that she could never again endure the pain of seeing herself reflected upon its truth-telling surface.  On the toilette-table was a vase full of camellias—­those beautiful but scentless flowers which were emblematic of her brilliant but artificial life.  Taking one of these in her hand, she plucked it to pieces leaf by leaf, and when the last petal fell to the ground went quietly back to her bed, there hopelessly to await the coming on of death.  Her parting with Armand was very pathetic, and her death, although harrowing and true to Nature, was not revolting, its horrors being moderated by artistic good sense and delicacy.  This great artiste died young, worn out by the strong emotions she not only represented, but actually felt.

Signora Cazzola, together with Virginia Marini and Isolina Piamonti, was a pupil of Signor Salvini.  Virginia Marini is well considered in Italy, and used to be the leading lady in the Salvini troupe.  She now directs a company of her own, and has been succeeded in her former position by the estimable Signora Piamonti, whom Salvini declares to be one of the most versatile artistes he has ever known, equally good in the highest tragedy or the liveliest farce.  Her Dalilla in Samson was much admired in America, but her rendering of the role of Francesca di Rimini in the tragedy of that name is perhaps her greatest performance.

Signora Sedowsky is undoubtedly the greatest tragic actress of Italy.  She is perhaps less stately and grand than Ristori, but in fire and depth of feeling she greatly surpasses this eminent tragedienne.  Her Phedre is pronounced by excellent judges equal to that of Rachel.  Signora Sedowsky was born at Naples, and is the proprietress of three large theatres in that city.  She is the wife of a wealthy nobleman.  Notwithstanding her rank, she still keeps on the stage, but is received with honor in the first society.  She has never acted out of Italy, and very rarely beyond the walls of Naples.

The superlative merits of Signora Ristori are so well known in America that the mere mention of her name is sure to recall some of the most delightful evenings ever spent by many of my readers.  Her genius and beauty, her majesty and glorious method of declamation, have won her a foremost rank in her profession, and her virtues and nobility of conduct the esteem of all who have ever known her.  There are indeed few women more estimable than Adelaide Ristori, Marchioness Capranica del Grillo.  It may be a matter of surprise to some who are not aware of the fact when I tell them that in Italy Ristori is more famous in comedy than in tragedy.  She is inimitable in such parts as the hostess in Goldoni’s clever comedy of La Locandiera.