68 Reminiscences of 



cations of Choate, and for an hour the assemblage 

 was held by an eloquence siupassing any it has been 

 my experience to have witnessed. Perhaps I dwell 

 too long upon this digression, and sometimes I think 

 my receptive condition — ^being at that time in my 

 teens — exceeded that of my present, but my recol- 

 lection is vivid, and I would not deny myself the 

 memory, and I can see as plainly as of yesterday 

 the living countenance and animated form of Choate. 

 I think it quite probable that I was too receptive, 

 for I am reminded of the intense interest I felt at 

 that period in the dramatic recitations and acting 

 of the famous French tragedienne, Sarah Felix Rachel, 

 who visited the United States at that time, and the 

 effect upon me exceeded any I have since experienced 

 or approached by the representations I have witnessed 

 of Ristori, Janauschek, Matilda Heron, Charlotte 

 Cushman, and others of less note. Her fragile and 

 delicate form, of pliant mould, and her pale coun- 

 tenance, of not particular impressiveness when at rest, 

 became illuminated in action with the most intense 

 expressions which only high genius (or was it talent ?) 

 could render. Her rest of classic cast, her movement 

 of gentle or violent action ever graceful, her enuncia- 

 tion of sweetness or severity, although in foreign 

 tongue, ever clear and penetrating, habitated her 

 presence in my estimation beyond the possibilities of 

 expectation, and I clung to her representations of 

 Medea, Phrede, and other leading parts with a fer- 

 vency and absorbism never since equalled. Rachel 

 died soon afterwards in Paris at the age of thirty- 

 eight, consumed, it is claimed, by the intensity of her 

 own nature. 



