In fact one is conscious of cutting a ludicrous figure
in attempting to argue this subject on its merits with a
charming lady (in a long white clinging ermine-trimmed
dress) who gravely contends that La Dame aux Camillas
is a piece which every young girl ought to be taken to
see, that M. Sardou's FMora is " a powerful sermon
against revenge," not to be equalled by " many pages
of philosophy," while M. Sardou, it appears, holds
undisputed sway as Master of his Art. One is driven
to turn to things more profitable, irrelevant though they
are — Mme. Bernhardt's little personal anecdotes and
confessions. She remembers that, when she first played
Iphig^nie at the Com^die Fran§aise and she held up
her long thin arms for the sacrifice, the audience burst
out laughing. She still feels nervous on the stage —
especially over a new piece. She likes American and
English audiences, because they take the theatre
seriously, whereas the Latin nations do not. Neverthe-
less, the courtesy of the Spaniards is very charming,
and " France retains the place of honour for literary
works." Nor must one, in international comparisons,
forget the society of the Entente Cordiale " at whose
soirh I assisted in London," or the wild Iroquois in



THE MORALIST 273

Canada who once gave z.fite in Mme. Sarah's honour.
