yed by her was so
remarkable, that she was encouraged to repeat the essay in public at the
theatre of Bourges, on which occasion her infant exertions were rewarded
by the enthusiastic applause of the audience, and--which was probably
still more to her taste--by a shower of _bonbons_." Either the applause
or the _bonbons_, or both, decided her vocation, and she continued to
act from time to time, until at length she became a regular member of a
provincial company, whose manager was her father. In 1842, she went to
Paris, where she soon took rank with the best _jeunes premieres_ of the
capital. She has been justly called the most loveable actress upon the
French stage; so graceful, so soft and womanly, displaying alternately
such genuine feeling and nature, and such arch coquetry of manner;
always such great freshness of style. We were pleased to see her
properly appreciated during her last visit to London, both by press and
public. Trained to the stage from so early an age--although not, as
Mademoiselle Dejazet is said to have been, born in a theatre--it is not
surprising that Rose Cheri is in the highest degree self-possessed and
at her ease. But if she is _sans peur_ on the boards, she is also--most
rare commendation for a French actress--_sans reproche_ in private life.
Such a Rose as this is indeed the pride of the garden.

Two words about the Palais Royal, and we have done; leaving the dramatic
aristocracy of the theatres royal, and the smaller fry of the
Boulevards, for some future opportunity of comment. The Francais,
although it reckons in its company several excellent comic actors,
relies chiefly on tragedy, and will doubtless continue to do so, as long
as it possesses Rachel, or until a comedian of very extraordinary talent
starts up. And in French tragedies, even, heretical as it may sound, in
the classic masterpieces of Corneille and Racine, we take far less
pleasure than in the witty and sparkling comedies of many less renowned
authors, to which the genius of the language so much better adapts
itself. Nay, we confess to have more than once passed the Francais
without the least compunction, with _les Horaces_ or _Andromaque_ on the
bills, and a crowd at the door, to commit ourselves, a few paces
farther, to the friendly arms of a stall at the Palais Royal, and the
mirth-inspiring influence of Tousez and Levassor, the most comical
buffoon and admirable mimic on the French stage.

When the _Varietes'_ company