SUCCESS.
33
was almost empty. The first two acts were received coldly; the love scene in the second act made no impression; the public were still indifferent and apathetic. Suddenly the passion of the actress broke forth:—
Que le courroux du ciel, allumé par mes vœux,
Fasse pleuvoir sur elle un déluge de feux.
The great critic was won: when the play was over he begged to go behind the scenes to be introduced to the young Camille. Her modesty and gentleness completed the charm. Janin had a column and a half to fill the next day; he devoted it to Rachel. It was one of those pétards, a tapageuse gaminerie which at that time exercised such a disproportionate influence on the Parisian public. He wrote in his dogmatic style:—
Let me tell you there exists at this moment, at the Théâtre Français, an unexpected victory, one of those triumphs of which a nation such as ours has reason to be proud. Those works of art, lost for so long, are at length given back to us. We possess the most marvellous actress (although only still a child) that this generation has seen on the stage. This actress is Mademoiselle Rachel. About a year ago she first appeared at the Gymnase, and I maintained then that she possessed talent of no common order, and that a great future lay before her. I was not believed; people said I exaggerated, and I alone was not strong enough to support this little girl on that stage. A few days after her first appearance the actress disappeared from the Gymnase, and I, perhaps, was the only person who had remembered her, when suddenly she reappears at the Théâtre Français in the great tragedies of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire. Now she is listened to, encouraged, applauded. She has found the legitimate development of her precocious dramatic genius. It is nothing short of marvellous, this uneducated child, without art, without preparation of any kind, thus becoming the interpreter of our grand old tragedies! She blows their ashes into a flame by her genius and her energy; and, remember, she is small, ugly, with a narrow chest, an insignificant appearance, and common speech. Do not ask her who Tancrède, Horace. Hermione are, or about the Trojan war, or Pyrrhus, or Helen. She knows nothing; but she has that which is better than knowledge. She has
