a
whim to have himself paid every Saturday in silver five-franc pieces.
Then throwing over his shoulder the bag of money, he would walk proudly
through the crowd which was waiting to see him at the door of the
theatre.

One of the earliest developments of Lemaitre's independence of spirit
and contempt of the honeyed adjectives of critics was displayed in his
refusal to pay those amiable taxes which are so much the rule in Paris,
if not in all European cities. Generous enough in his own way with the
abundant earnings of his art, Lemaitre declined to pay for puffery. A
well-known journalist of the time, counting on his success with less
eccentric artists, called one day at Lemaitre's residence and suggested
that the actor should smooth over the rough places of criticism by a
liberal _douceur_. Lemaitre refused. "It is but a small matter to you,"
said this gentle literary bandit: "a thousand or twelve hundred francs a
year--what does so trifling a sum signify to one who has your splendid
income? And thanks to this modest subvention you will be constantly well
treated in my columns." To which Lemaitre replied, "Monsieur, I will not
be eulogized for gold: other eulogies or none." Two days later a
slashing article against Lemaitre appeared in the columns over which the
blackmailer had control. Lemaitre made no complaint, but knowing that it
would not be long ere his assailant would visit the green-room of the
theatre according to French custom, he waited in patience. A night or
two later the critic appeared. Lemaitre walked up to him, made a low
bow, and while the crowd in the green-room were attending to see what
would follow, slapped the fellow's face. Naturally, this liberty was
resented by the journalist, who struck back at Lemaitre; but the actor,
who was gifted with extraordinary muscular power, took both the man's
hands in one of his own, and holding him thus, said to the witnesses of
the scene, "To-morrow, if it is necessary, I will fight this
_miserable_; but before all I desire to treat him in your presence as he
merits--that is to say as a vulgar scoundrel." With this he dragged the
blackmailer to the door and kicked him out.

The part of Georges de Germany, which Dickens saw played in 1856, was
Lemaitre's second great creation. Those who saw him in this part in his
younger days so rave about it that even Dickens's warm eulogy seems cool
in comparison. Such unheard-of developments of passion and disorder!
such in