e has imparted
all the minutiae of his science. To this gentleman was assigned the
honor of opening the _seance_ by a brief exposition of the system, and
of closing it by reciting in French a brilliant tragic monologue, the
effect of which, in spite of the absence of appropriate costume and
scenic illusion, electrified the audience. In this scene, "Les Terreurs
de Thoas," those rapidly changing expressions of the features, those
statuesque attitudes melting into each other, which we all remember in
Rachel, indicated a common origin. It needed not the added eloquence of
words and the sombre music of the voice to tell the tragic story of the
victim of the Eumenides. After listening to the recitation, I was not
surprised to learn that the young student was to appear, under the
auspices of his teacher, at the Theatre Francais, during the approaching
winter,--an honor never before conceded to any foreigner. The large
American colony in Paris was looking forward to this _debut_ with a
natural pride, and Delsarte with the calm assurance of his favorite's
triumph. Alas! we all reckoned without taking King William, the Crown
Prince, the Fed Prince, von Moltke, and von Bismarck into our account.
We never fancied, on that bright July morning, that Krupp of Essen's
cannon and the needle-gun were soon to give laws to Paris. But _inter
arma silent artes_ as well as _leges_. Nearer and deadlier tragedies
than those of Corneille and Racine were soon to be enacted; and the
poor players were summoned to perform their parts upon no mimic stage.
However, "what though the field be lost? all is not lost." The _venue_,
to borrow a legal phrase, has been changed, but the cause has not been
abandoned. Our young countryman has returned to his native land,
bringing with him the fruits of his long studies, to appeal to an
American audience, and it is quite possible that his teacher may be
induced to transfer his school of art to the United States.

Although at this _seance_ Delsarte appeared disposed to efface himself
in favor of his brilliant representative, he kindly consented to speak a
few words (and what a charming French lesson was his _causerie_!) and to
present a specimen of his pantomimic powers. The latter exhibition was
really surprising. He depicted the various passions and emotions of the
human soul, by means of expression and gesture only, without uttering a
single syllable; moving the spectators to tears, exciting them to
enthusiasm