ON THE WANE.
By 1852 Rachel had begun to feel acutely the havoc that continual wandering and over-exertion had wrought upon her delicate constitution.
She wrote to her mother about her depression and incapacity for work in these terms:—
I am not actually ill; I am very weak, but have no pain. I can sleep well, and can now remain alone at night. My appetite is not so good as at Paris. I went out walking with papa yesterday, but came home utterly exhausted. To-day I preferred to drive; I found that better. My leisure time is spent reading and working. It is impossible for me to study any rôle; I do not attempt it, therefore. I hope with returning health the dear old tragedies will inspire me once more. Now, it is my duty and my wish to take care of myself for the sake of my children, for you and my friends who have proved their affection.
Rachel.
I embrace all the family circle.
She had been invited by the King of Prussia to visit Berlin in the summer. Although suffering from want of sleep and overtaxed nerves, the demon of unrest that now seemed to have permanently taken possession of her, induced the actress to accept the invitation. In Brussels, on her way to Berlin, she almost com-
