being commitment to custody, if not removal to Newgate or the Tower, and the payment of a good round sum in the shape of fees. The Deputy Serjeant-at-Arms made his way to the stranger, asked him to follow him, and led him from the body of the House. We all expected a scene," an appearance at the bar, a humble apology, a rebuke from the Speaker, or, perhaps, a remand and a search for precedents. Mr. Shaw Lefevre (now Viscount Eversley), however, took a more lenient and sensible view of the matter, and strained the practice of the House in the visitor's favour. His offence was so manifestly involuntary, and Mr. Brown was so provokingly inaudible, that the Speaker advised that no public notice of the matter should be taken by the Serjeant-at-Arms. The offender was therefore dismissed, and the matter was never brought before the House at all. Mr. Brown

all this time, unconscious of the occurrence, was quoting his statistics, reading his documents, and endeavouring, in vain, to make himself heard.'

He did make himself heard, however, in indirect ways, both in and out of Parliament. The greatest public service rendered by Mr. Brown, if not in Parliament, yet in virtue of his parliamentary position,' to use the words of the intelligent authority already cited,' was in 1856. The government of the United States declared that the British Minister at Washington had violated the law of the United States in raising a foreign legion in the Union for service in the Crimea, and summarily dismissed Mr. Crampton. Lord Palmerston warmly resented the insult, and vindicated the conduct of her Majesty's Minister. The American Government had allowed proceedings to go on which they afterwards contended were contrary to the law of the United States, without sending for Mr. Crampton, or telling him what it was supposed he was guilty of doing. They allow these things to accumulate," said Lord Palmerston, "in order that, when the proper time arrives, they may either take advantage of

them, or deal with them as matters which do not deserve consideration." These views being fully shared by the Cabinet, the public were prepared by a semi-official announcement for the dismissal of Mr. Dallas. Great alarm prevailed in monetary and commercial circles. A sudden activity was observable in our arsenals and dockyards. Supplies of the matériel of war were sent out to Canada; and the Secretary of State for the Colonies assured the Canadians that they would be supported by the whole force of the mother country in the event of war. Troops were despatched to British North America, and heavily-armed vessels of war received sailing orders for the American seaboard. So great was the uneasiness, that the underwriters at Lloyd's were asked in almost every case to insure against capture and seizure, and a percentage was actually charged for the increased risk. Public opinion at home supported the Government in declaring that Mr. Crampton's dismissal by President Pierce was unjustifiable, indefensible, and offensive. At this moment of peril, when the rupture of diplomatic negotiations between the two countries would probably have been followed by insulting and belligerent proceedings on the Canadian frontier and in Central America, Mr. Brown came forward as a mediator between the two countries. He deprecated irritating debates in Parliament, induced Mr. Baillie to withdraw a party question condemnatory of the Government in regard to enlistment in the States, and made an appeal to a virulent Irish member, who was determined to make a speech on the subject, which fixed him with a tremendous weight of responsibility, and procured him a signal defeat on a division. The honourable member for South Lancashire offered his personal mediation between Lord Palmerston and Mr. Dallas, and meanwhile expressed his conviction in the House of Commons, that the disputes between the two countries would be amicably arranged to the satisfaction of both governments, if no new cause of disagreement were supplied by party debates. The

American minister in London gladly accepted Mr. Brown's mediation, for he did not wish to be sent back to Washington. With Lord Palmerston the honourable member's task was more difficult. What took place at these interviews has never been publicly stated. Some assert that Mr. Brown put before the Premier facts and figures proving that a rupture between the two countries would be followed not only by rebellion in the slave states, but also by a revolution in Lancashire. Others, with perhaps more reason, opine that Mr. Brown represented the conduct of the American government as an attempt to get a little "Buncombe" out of the difficulty, with an eye to the next presidential election, and was so regarded in the Union-that the attempt would signally fail (as the event proved) and that if Lord Palmerston would only treat the affair as an unscrupulous and desperate attempt to get up a little political capital, he would, in a few months, be rewarded for his forbearance by seeing President Pierce and Secretary Marcy relapse into political obscurity and insignificance. Those who know Lord Palmerston best, affirm that the appeal to his magnanimity succeeded, when cotton statistics, tonnage, and all sorts of figures failed to shake his resolution to vindicate the insult passed upon her Majesty's representative. The Prime Minister yielded to the representations of one who spoke with peculiar weight, not only as a merchant, but as one of the most consistent and influential of Lord Palmerston's admirers and supporters in Parliament. Mr. Brown was not, however, satisfied with mediating between the two governments. He appealed to the two nations, and at his instance Liverpool, Manchester, and other English towns adopted addresses to the larger and more influential cities of the Union. These demonstrations elicited cordial and satisfactory responses from the other side of the Atlantic, breathing peace, and denouncing those who attempted to kindle disunion between two great and kindred nations. The political horizon

soon cleared. Mr. Dallas remained in London, and Mr. Brown received the thanks and congratulations of all who knew his noble and useful endeavours to avert so hideous, unnatural, and horrible an event as a war between the two countries.'

A man who could so act deserved to be called a merchant prince. From first to last William Brown exerted the influence he had acquired by long years of perseverance and integrity in promoting the welfare of his fellows and the development of liberal thoughts and kindly feelings among governors as well as governed in both the nations that he had dealings with. And a fair measure of the wealth that came from those dealings was spent in works of philanthropy. All the earlier fruits of his life-long charity are eclipsed by his last and almost unexampled piece of benevolence. In 1853 he offered to give 6,000l. towards constructing a public library for the town of Liverpool, provided the corporation would provide a suitable site. The offer was accepted, but not acted upon, it being thought that more than that sum was needed for a building worthy of the town, but no one being ready to increase it to the requisite extent. Therefore in 1856 Mr. Brown offered to double his contribution. Even that, however, was not thought sufficient, and nothing was done until the merchant, eager, as he said, that his favourite work should be completed in his lifetime, took the whole business into his own hands. Without delay he set the builders to work, and by the autumn of 1860, the Free Public Library and Museum was completed and stocked with books and rarities of all sorts, at a cost to its founder of not less than 40,000l., besides some 25,000l. supplied by the corporation and a few other subscribers.

This was, as it was meant to be, the crowning work of William Brown's career. Three years later he was appointed high sheriff of Lancashire, and honoured with a baronetcy. He died on the 3d of March, 1864, at the ripe age of 79.

H. R. F. B.

T is said that things theatrical are managed better in France than in England. Without discussing this question, it will be as well at once to state that the royal personages here treated of belong to the land of Molière and of Beaumarchais, and that the word Comedy is used as a generic term. Neither engravings nor letter-press are to be confined to the personators of the heroines of classic Comedy only. Comedy, as the highest in the rank of art, is, necessarily, presented to the reader first. Her haughty, flighty, stilted, unapproachable, emotional, hysterical, tearful sister, Tragedy-her humble, tawdry cousin, Melodrama

her

foster-sister, Farce-and her popular, but vulgar distant relatives, Extravaganza and Fairy Spectacle I will follow in her train.

Madame Arnoult Plessy, of the Théâtre Français, is perhaps one of the last of the true Queens of

Comedy. There may be a Countess of Comedy scattered here and there among the Parisian theatres, but Madame Plessy wears her robes, powders her hair, stalks on her high red-heeled shoes, and waves her fan with a difference. Hers is the true pre-revolutionary majesty and grace. Her manner has been formed upon the models that existed before the Bastille was levelled to the ground; when a marquis was a marquis, and could cane a common man or run him through if he thought fit, without fear of consequences; when the people' were submissive and respectful, not to say servile, and blouses, barricades, opposition newspapers, percussion-caps, drainage, railways, Zouaves, Turcos, the August fêtes, universal suffrage, the ballot, gas, street orderlies, commerce, and the guillotine were unknown. The old nobility of France were a little cruel, a trifle careless, somewhat profligate, slightly vindic

tive, and serenely atheistic - but their manners were charming. The soft cadence of voice, the rounded gesture, the fine compliment, the grace, elegance, wit, and tone of the past are gone with the suppers, the clouded canes, the three-cornered hats, and the epigrams. We have now mustachios, pegtop trousers, puns, argot, bouledogues and blackthorns, to console us in their stead.

Vielle école, bonne école. Madame Arnoult Plessy had the good fortune to be a pupil of Mademoiselle Mars, and it was in the heroine in Monsieur Alexandre Dumas' drama 'Mademoiselle de Belle Isle'-a part created by the Mars'- that Madame Plessy impressed the fastidious habitués of the Théâtre Français. A dreary adaptation of this play, by Miss Fanny Kemble, was played at the Haymarket Theatre_some_ten months ago, and Mademoiselle Beatrix enacted the heroine very charmingly; but Mademoiselle de Belle Isle,' though a capital piece in the original, can never be cooked up to suit the English palate. Its sentiment and tone are too French. Possibly, the novel of Rob Roy' is not interesting when translated into the Gallic tongue. It certainly would be hard to recognise Dougal, if he address Rob with 'Dis donc mon chef,' or Baillie Nicol Jarvie, if he remark, 'Je ne suis pas un homme joli,' or Rob Roy himself, if he say to Francis, Monsieur Osbaldiston, figurez vous que votre cousin ce beau Monsieur Rashleigh,' &c. Plays cannot be so spiced as to keep in any climate, and a success in China would be pretty sure to be a failure in Peru. Monsieur Dumas is not only indebted to Madame Plessy for her delineation of 'Mademoiselle de Belle Isle,' he is also her debtor for her brilliant rendering of his heroine in the 'Demoiselle de St. Cyr.' She is also famous for many stock' characters in the classic repertoire of Molière, her highest popularity having been achieved as Celimene in 'Le Misanthrope.'

The haughtiest of duchesses, the most graceful of marchesas, the sweetest of countesses, and most win

ning of baronesses, modern comedy -the comedy of crinoline and brusquerie-has been also subjugated by Madame Plessy. Monsieur Emile Augier-the stern, realistic, cynical Beaumarchais of this present nineteenth century-is under as heavy obligations to our heroine as Messieurs Molière and Dumas. The Marquise in 'Les Effrontés,' the Baronne in Le Fils de Giboyer,' and Madame Lecoutellier in 'Maître Guérin,' were three distinct varieties-like and yet unlike-of the selfish, self-loving, interested Parisienne-in society and yet not of it restless, brilliant, busy, scheming, playing at love, and loving the toilette.

Madame Arnoult Plessy's style of acting was founded on that of her preceptress, Mademoiselle Mars, who was a genius. All theatrical geniuses must inevitably reflect the times in which they live. Many people suppose that the peculiar talent of a great actor is his own personal gift, and this may, to an extent, be true; but it is not unlikely that the political events which form the social events of the world around him and about him, also form him. Mademoiselle Mars lived in troublous, revolutionary timeswhen kings, ministers, nobility, were upset, and Europe re-partitioned. She had seen the 'ancien noblesse,' talked to it, and been familiar with it; from it she derived the old classic dignity, regal bearing, stately sweep of arm, and tread of foot. Then came the Revolution: its passions, frenzies, and upheavings, witnessed by the Mars,' were reproduced at the theatre; and on the formal grandeur of the old school she grafted the tumultuous passions that she saw surrounding her. Then came Napoleon, with a reign of system and organisation, and the Mars, to the old grandeur and revolutionary passion added concentration, energy, and will. The actor's mind is impressionable and plastic, and they often illustrate their era without knowing it. Madame Plessy profited by all that her preceptress had seen and felt, and added to it a charm, an affability, a sweetness,

and a repose all her own. That Madame Plessy is handsome, our engraving shows. She has a queenly head and a noble face. The forehead is large and intellectual, and the expression of the mouth has that indescribable sweetness only seen when dimples are to be found lurking and settling in the immediate neighbourhood. Tall, and of stately presence, and with arms of singular beauty, our gifted heroine is a perfect grande dame.

She is a wonderful coquette. It is a sight to see her tracasser a lover. She leads the poor man such a life, is so unconscious of her charms, extinguishes hope by simply shutting up her fan, or alleviates despair by asking for a seat. Her features have a kaleidoscopic quality, and ripple with several meanings at the same time, as a stained-glass window glows with several hues. She is equally happy when she loves truly, and her performance in Le Legs,' where she coaxingly extorts a passionate but timid admirer into an avowal and an offer of marriage, is the highest of high comedy, and as superior to most of the representations of the vie intime of good society as the flight of a swallow is to that of Monsieur Leotard. It is sad to record Madame Arnoult Plessy's approaching retirement from the stage.

A more striking contrast could not be found than in the form, features, school of acting, management of voice, means of execution, and, so to speak, manipulation of the emotions of Madame Plessy than that of Mademoiselle Favart, who is also of the Comédie Française. Madame Plessy was a pupil of the Mars.' Mademoiselle Favart, without having been positively under tuition, has adopted the style founded by the late Rose Cheri-a style at once romantic and familiar, that delights in contrasts of voice, frequent pauses during which the expression of the features is the only medium of communication with the audience, and brief, curt, incisive intonations that make monosyllables tell long stories as plainly as long speeches. Madame Plessy is the lady of the year 1775. Mademoiselle Favart is

the great grand-daughter of the lady of 1775, of the same high blood and beauty, but of modern manners. Let us confess that the type furnished by Madame Plessy is most to be admired, but that the other is most to be loved. If the lady who received the homage of 'ces beaux messieurs' of the last century was the more modish, she who receives deference and not compliment from 'les gentlemen' of this, is the more sincere. One cannot easily imagine that bewitching fan-flourisher settling down into a quiet wife; but one may fancy that pensive brodeuse' heading a charming, inexpensive, comfortable, loving ménage. Waxcandles would be the extravagance of the grande dame. The other lady would economise for flowers.

The word 'lady,' in its most modern acceptation, happily describes Mademoiselle Favart and her acting. She is never demonstrative, or fussy, or self-conscious. Her hands and arms are not in continual play, nor do her eyes wander as if they did not belong to her; and when it is remembered that she is a Frenchwoman, and what sort of thing Frenchwomen usually consider fascination, this is no small praise. When silent, she might in feature, demeanour, and dress be taken for an English woman; indeed, a Frenchman, a great critic, and one severely bitten with Anglomania, remarked of her during her performance in the Fils de Giboyer,' Is she not distinguished? Exactly like to a young English lady.'

This impression is conveyed by Mademoiselle Favart, because she never rattles over the gamut of human passions and emotions like a clever girl let loose on a pianoforte. Her great strength as an actress lies in her rendering of the subjugation of emotion. She seems to be exactly the sort of woman who would take a delight in sacrificing herself for somebody-a lover, a brother, a husband, a child, or a father-and make no sign. If the world knew of her sacrifice, or even guessed at it, she would feel robbed of half her sentimental pleasure. To charm her thoroughly,