f the same talent. He was a Frenchman of the South, of the same race as
Villon and Marot.

Even in the prim and formal society of the eighteenth century, the
barber occupied no unimportant part. He and the sculptor, of all
working men, were allowed to wear the sword--that distinctive badge
of gentility. In short, the barber was regarded as an artist. Besides,
barbers were in ancient times surgeons; they were the only persons who
could scientifically "let blood." The Barber-Surgeons of London still
represent the class. They possess a cup presented to the Guild by
Charles II., in commemoration of his escape while taking refuge in the
oak-tree at Boscobel.{3}

But to return to the adventures of Jasmin's early life. He describes
with great zest his first visit to a theatre. It was situated near at
hand, by the ancient palace of the Bishop. After his day's work was
over--his shaving, curling, and hairdressing--he went across the square,
and pressed in with the rest of the crowd. He took his seat.

"'Heavens!' said he, 'where am I?' The curtain rises! 'Oh, this is
lovely! It is a new world; how beautifully they sing; and how sweetly
and tenderly they speak!' I had eyes for nothing else: I was quite
beside myself with joy. 'It is Cinderella,' I cried aloud in my
excitement. 'Be quiet,' said my neighbour. 'Oh, sir! why quiet? Where
are we? What is this?' 'You gaping idiot,' he replied, 'this is the
Comedy!'

"Jasmin now remained quiet; but he saw and heard with all his eyes and
ears. 'What love! what poetry!' he thought: 'it is more than a dream!
It's magic. O Cinderella, Cinderella! thou art my guardian angel!'
And from this time, from day to day, I thought of being an actor!"

Jasmin entered his garret late at night; and he slept so soundly, that
next morning his master went up to rouse him. "Where were you last
night? Answer, knave; you were not back till midnight?" "I was at the
Comedy," answered Jasmin sleepily; "it was so beautiful!" "You have been
there then, and lost your head. During the day you make such an uproar,
singing and declaiming. You, who have worn the cassock, should blush.
But I give you up; you will come to no good. Change, indeed! You will
give up the comb and razor, and become an actor! Unfortunate boy, you
must be blind. Do you want to die in the hospital?"

"This terrible word," says Jasmin, "fell like lead upon my heart, and
threw me into consternation. Cinderella was forthwith dethroned in my