bably long secure toleration for
patriarchal Romeos, and even for matriarchal Juliets.

Recent discoveries have no doubt benefited the toilets of the players,
which, indeed, stood in need of assistance, the fierce illumination of
the modern stage being considered. In those palmy but dark days of the
drama, when gas and lime-lights were not, the disguising of the
mischief wrought by time must have been a comparatively easy task.

However, supply, as usual, has followed demand, and there are now
traders dealing specially in the materials for making-up, in
theatrical cosmetics of the best possible kind at the lowest possible
prices: "Superfine rouge, rose for lips, blanc (liquid and in powder),
pencils for eyebrows, creme de l'imperatrice and fleur-de-riz for
softening the skin," &c. Further, there are the hairdressers, who
provide theatrical wigs of all kinds, and advertise the merits of
their "old men's bald pates," which must seem a strange article of
sale to those unversed in the mysteries of stage dressing-rooms. One
inventive person, it may be noted, loudly proclaims the merits of a
certain "spirit gum" he has concocted, using which, as he alleges, "no
actor need fear swallowing his moustache"--so runs the form of his
advertisement.

Of Mademoiselle Guirnard, the famous French opera-dancer, it is
related that her portrait, painted in early youth, always rested upon
her dressing-table. Every morning, during many years, she carefully
made up her face to bring her looks in as close accord as possible
with the loveliness of her picture. For an incredible time her success
is reported to have been something marvellous. But at last the
conviction was forced upon her that her facial glories had departed.
Yet her figure was still perfectly symmetrical, her grace and agility
were as supreme as they had ever been. She was sixty-four, when,
yielding to the urgent entreaties of her friends, she consented to
give a "very last" exhibition of her art. The performance was of a
most special kind. The curtain was so far lowered as to conceal
completely the head and shoulders of the dancer. "Il fut impossible
aux spectateurs," writes a biographer of the lady, "de voir autre que
le travail de ses jambes dont le temps avait respecte l'agilite et les
formes pures et delicates!"

By way of final word on the subject, it may be stated that making-up
is but a small portion of the histrionic art; and not, as some would
have it, the very be