their ideas and conviction to impress auditors than when eloquence is scarcely needed, because the bare fact of interest shown in such and such a question by a high personage suffices. The Queen had expressed a desire to visit Kew Gardens, and we followed Her Majesty at first through the spacious and beautiful grounds and then through the hot-houses; naturally the Queen, though incognito, walked ahead of our little party, and we soon became so engrossed by the sight of the various and splendid floral treasures that we thought of nothing else. The gardener led the way, and as visitors were very numerous that day he insisted on the people not stopping long before each plant and bringing confusion. We often heard him say in a distinct, monotonous voice: "Please walk on, ladies and gentlemen, walk on." We were just in front of one of those dainty orchids whose petals bear the vivid hues of a sunset sky, when I remarked that we halted a minute or two and the gardener's voice was rising to an unusual pitch. I raised my head, and to our mingled annoyance and amusement found out that the Queen had completely forgotten her incognito, and reverting to similar ocçasions in which her royal duties always obliged her to pay compliments and declare her high satisfaction, she now stood distributing her radiant and kind smiles right and left; and being shortsighted she could not observe that her politeness was received with stolid indifference. Moreover, the gardener was getting quite nervous, while Carmen Sylva gently said: "The flowers are beautiful indeed, but I am quite delighted with the orchids. And what trouble you must have to take care of all this quantity of plants. What a fervent admirer of nature you must be. I congratulate you-I am really delighted. I fully appreciate your efforts and their excellent results," sentences which pronounced by an undisguised Queen would have been published, eagerly copied by the newspapers, and brought to that gardener a great pride and contentment. But alas! they lacked the conventional force they would have carried along their every syllable had the man only guessed who was the lady to whom his rough voice spoke in terms rude and angry. "Will you go along? This has lasted more than ten minutes. You are preventing the other visitors from advancing." We had in vain been trying to join the Queenthe crowd was dense between her and ourselves, and when I was at last able to reach her and hurriedly reminded her of the incognito and the mistake she was making, Carmen Sylva burst into childish glee. "Now," said she, as we found ourselves safely out of the hot-house and far from the obnoxious keeper, "whenever I hear you ladies speak again of my personal charm and attractive manners I will just say the magic words: Kew Gardens, Kew Gardeners, and you will be silenced." This small event was duly related to Queen Victoria, who also laughed very much when I imitated in Her presence our Queen's speech to the gardener, and her royal demeanor, thrown away upon the unconscious man; and then Queen Victoria, turning to Carmen Sylva, said: "You see, dear, we are not as much to be pitied as some of us seem to think. Only imagine the effect of all we say and do; although we have to be cautious more than any other women, we cannot but try to use well the formidable weapons we wield and that blood and rank confer upon us." From this little story I shall not be accused of taking an imprudent view if I say I am convinced that sovereigns would be the most wretched creatures under the sun were they deprived not only of their moral rights, their sceptres and crowns, but also of all the small and great attributes of their ex alted position. Therefore, when they stoop to change their attitudes and ways for ours, and endeavor to assume simplicity and the troubles of an existence whose peace and comfort are not defended from the invasion of care by a strong barrier, they act thus because the anomaly pleases them, because they are perfectly certain that they are only playing a part, and will be able to resume their interrupted task which forces them to soar above our common evils and our common enjoyments. That the interest they show nowadays in every social endeavor in which the welfare of humanity is concerned makes them better akin to the best amongst us, I cannot deny; but that they form a race apart, that in. order to preserve their dignity and the glamour that surrounds their history, they will ever be obliged to remain hidden in the distant haze of pomp and mystery, is equally undeniable. Carmen Sylva will again help to prove what advance: and as she can in no way be suspected of harboring in her bosom the secret fire of pride, the influence of heredity alone will account for the necessity that leads me to draw a conclusion favorable to the intangibility of monarchical ideas from the character of one who strives to destroy the chains wrought by pride and prejudice. Carmen Sylva is the most sweettempered lady I have ever known; her patience, however severely tried, never gives way. She puts up with the most disagreeable people that come across her path, and it is touching to see how much she humors those who, having discovered the depths and extent of her kindness, trespass upon her unwavering amiability and the full command that she possesses over her will and nerves. For my part I remember having seen our Queen angry only once; and I am sorry to own that I willingly gave her occasion to look rebuke upon me, because real words of rebuke and disparagement she cannot speak. One day, after an exhaustive conversation, of which the subject was human destiny, human misery, the eternal pain and hope that gnaw at every heart, I was led to relate a few domestic dramas which I had witnessed or been told of, and to point out all the various species of misfortune that I had met with among our society people, and also the aristocracy and bourgeoisie of other lands. To every one of these tragedies, obscure and thrilling, the Queen opposed the tale of a tragedy as awful that had happened in former days among her own people or acquaintances or ancestors, Kings, Queens and Princes belonging to royal families, and the more I enlarged on the strain of suffering imposed by fate on the unhappy victims of my class, the more the Queen insisted upon the uncommon amount of wretchedness which was or had been the portion of her equals. Soon I saw that even Carmen Sylva seemed to believe that the souls of the beings who were superior in blood and rank had been greater too in their comprehension and grasp of misery, had borne an unusual load of distress because theirs was a lot unusual. In fact, for those privileged few she also wanted to secure the privilege of bearing and understanding pain better than others. Our discussion became fierce. Two races, not two souls, were face to face, each struggling for precedence in the realm of sorrow, where the poor and the humble are Kings, and thus perhaps nearer to the Immortal King. The Queen's eloquence and my stubborn resolution were equally loath to give way. At last, almost vanquished by Her Majesty's triumphant arguments, I was about to plead guilty, when a flash of victory shone in my eyes and I exclaimed: "No-no-no, they are not superior to us in the dominion of pain; that supremacy at least does not be long to them. Can Your Majesty mention to me a King who has committed suicide?" This argument, which the Queen might easily have destroyed by proving the superiority of patience and religion in the hearts of desperate sovereigns, yet struck her deeply, and after a few moments' silence she changed the conversation and never again returned to the perilous subject. The idea of their inborn grandeur is to monarchs and Princes the salt and cement of their souls; they can justly boast of the discipline taught them from their earliest childhood, and whose maintenance is as necessary to them as their own breath. Court etiquette is neither a nuisance for those who inspire nor for those who exercise it; it gives to courtiers and great personages a sense of their personal value The Contemporary Review. and a means of gratifying the inward respect that they have for themselves. A Prince who is unable to bear the boredom of listening for hours to discourses and speeches that do not in the least interest him will ever be considered a weakling, whereas a Kingeven a mediocre King-who would be up to any strain inherent in his situation, must win respect, because he has obeyed the behests of his caste and his ancestry. Sovereigns who walk with alacrity in the way of modern aspirations are to be revered and loved for the great sacrifice that they make, when they are sincere; but in their own opinion and the imagination of the nations, their real place is half-way between the demi-gods of ancient mythology and the Uebermenschen of Nietsche. Helène Vacaresco. OTHELLO ON THE STAGE. Among all the characters in the acted plays of Shakespeare there are very few that require for their adequate representation so rare a combination of qualities in the actor as does Othello. To an imposing presence (which, as the records of Edmund Kean's performance show, is not the same thing as imposing stature,) must be joined not grandeur of manner merely and outward dignity, but the power of expressing that nobility of soul which is implicit in every line of the text but is so difficult to reproduce satisfactorily upon the stage. It is the absence of this quality that has made the really great Othellos of stage history so few, in spite of the obvious scope for the tragedian's art which the character affords. It is not a part in which a certain measure of success can be attained by dint of' manner and trick, as, for instance, is Richard the Third. As "Gloster" every inferior hack can find some scenes which are within his range, and so makes his "points," and has his "moments." Nor does the part play itself as to some extent Hamlet does. In Hamlet, it is said, no actor ever completely failed, because the words and actions must of themselves produce some amount of effect apart from any question of inspiration in the interpreter. With Othello this is not so. The action of the play is so sublime and at the same time so severely simple that, unless it is informed and sustained by the lofty genius of the principal player, it can produce no effect at all. Either it must live and move upon the topmost heights of pity and terror or it must fail utterly. It is made up of the simple elemental passions, "love strong as death and jealousy cruel as the grave." And no actor's graces or stage tricks will avail to fill the swelling outlines if the massiveness of soul be absent by which and through which alone these passions can be adequately portrayed. "For he was great of heart." one And there is another reason for the comparative infrequency of worthy representations of "Othello" upon the stage. Never is it more true that "two stars keep not their motion in sphere," than when the sphere is a theatre, at any rate when the stars are of the same sex. A single planet with a number of satellites has been the arrangement that has more usually found favor. And in "Othello" there are two male parts of almost equal eminence. Occasionally Iago has been allowed to take his rightful place. But more commonly the Moor, like the Turk, has brooked no rival near the throne, and the play has suffered from the depression into a foil of one who should have faced the protagonist on equal terms. "You are the best Iago I have ever played with," said Kean on one occasion to an actor much his inferior in reputation. it as follows in the enumeration of his characters. But let me not forget one chiefest part Wherein beyond the rest he moved the heart, The grieved Moor made jealous by a slave, Who sent his wife to fill a timeless grave. These lines are of doubtful authenticity. But we know enough of Burbage's tragic power and the force and animation of his acting to believe that the early popularity of "Othello" upon the stage was in great part due to him. This popularity was maintained during the period of the Restoration, a restoration of the theatre as well as of monarchical government, and both in a debased form. In spite, however, of the prominence at this time of comedies of contemporary life and manners, many of Shakespeare's plays still held the stage. And among those that were fortunate enough to escape the attentions of the "improver" of the type of Davenant was "Othello." This epoch of stage history is the reign of Betterton, as the former was the reign of Burbage. that the compliment was received with "Because I have known five other Iagos to whom you have said the same thing," was the reply. The anecdote is instructive as showing the greatest of all Othellos going about the country and accepting with indifference the Iagos that were supplied him as he might accept the scenery and stage arrangements of the provincial theatres. Richard Burbage, one of the greatest names in English theatrical history, set the fashion which, with some eminent exceptions, has been followed ever since, of treating Othello as the leading part in the tragedy. The unknown writer of the elegy upon him includes And in Othello Betterton found one of his most admired parts. For into it, as into his Hotspur and his Brutus, he was able to throw the generous ardor and nobility which characterized all his tragic acting, and were especially needful in this case. Steele writing of him in the "Tatler" says, The wonderful agony which he appeared in when he examined the circumstance of the handkerchief in "Othello"; the mixture of love that intruded upon his mind, upon the innocent answers Desdemona makes, betrayed in his gesture such a variety and vicissitude of passions as would admonish a man to be afraid of his own heart, and perfectly convince him that it is to stab it, to admit that worst of daggers, jealousy. Whoever reads in his closet this admirable scene will find that he cannot, except he has as warm an imagination as Shakespeare himself, find any but dry, incoherent and broken sentences; but a reader that has seen Betterton act it observes there could not be a word added, that longer speeches had been unnatural, nay impossible, in Othello's circumstances. Pepys considered Betterton "the best actor in the world," but does not appear to have seen him in "Othello," which indeed seemed to him "a mean thing." He once saw an actor named Burt in the part, but does not trouble himself to set down a word of criticism on his performance, though he is quick to note "By the same token a very pretty lady that sat by me called out to see Desdemona smothered." By the same token, to borrow Mr. Pepys's phrase, Desdemona was the first part to be acted by a woman on the English stage. The change was made just after the Restoration, and a prologue written for the occasion gives the reason for it thus: due rather to the wonderful variety and flexibility of his art, to his moments of frenzied passion and his power of inspiring awe and terror, than to any capacity for sustained sublimity or grandeur. And so, after Barry came to the front, Garrick, who with all his vanity was shrewd enough in recognizing his own limitations, never played Othello again. For he knew that in this part he could not compete with the stately presence and silver voice of his rival, any more than the fiery impetuosity of his Romeo could hold its own against Barry's melting seductiveness. And Barry was one of those actors who are called great in their own day but not afterwards. Towards the end of the eighteenth century John Kemble acted Othello with success. But when we reach Kemble we are on the threshold of the career of Kean, before whose coming, as Leigh Hunt said, Kemble faded like a tragedy ghost. So we cannot stop to say more of the elder actor than that his Othello was cold and stately, that it had a certain shadowy greatness, but lacked altogether the human feeling and fire of his conqueror. Great as he was in Shylock and Richard, Othello may be taken to have been Edmund Kean's greatest part and the most typical both of the excellences and shortcomings of his genius. "Othello," says G. H. Lewes, "which is the most trying of all Shakespeare's parts, was Kean's masterpiece." The greatness of his art rose to the greatness of the demands made upon it. A passage in which the same critic examines the impersonation in detail will show how this single character illustrates Kean's art as a whole. Kean's range of expression, as already hinted, was very limited. His physical aptitudes were such as confined him to the strictly tragic pas |