of that brilliant career, a confidence in me, of which I am justly proud. I beg, also, to inform you that there were not two of her classical or modern rôles, on the subject of which this eminent artist did not consult my "experience," if not my knowledge. And, I think, I do no injustice to her memory by showing that her triumphs had in no way destroyed that humility which is the best appanage of talent. On January 1st, 1840, she writes to me—
Dear M. Samson,
I cannot let the first day of the year go by without telling you my regret, my sorrow at our long and miserable separation, or without telling you all the affection there is in my heart for you, all the respect for Madame Samson, and all the friendship for your daughters.
Believe me, my sentiments for you are the same as ever, and will never change. Besides, do I not always need your good counsels, which have given me the strength to appear on the stage, and which have assured the applause of the public.
Again, later in the same year:—
My dear good Master,
I have not had the smallest word from you. You must sit down to your bureau at once, take a large sheet of paper, a good pen (if it is possible), and begin thushow, though, I will not tell you. Try yourself; so long as it is very tender and very kind. A long letter, do you hear? A long letter, Roxane commands; you must obey. Don't complain of this imperious tone; it is you who taught it me.
Again:—
Dear Monsieur Samson,
Virginius is announced for next Tuesday, and although I know how fatigued you are with your lessons, I venture to ask for a few hours between now and then, to make me repeat my rôle; for a first performance, a part to create, is a battle to win; but all fear vanishes when you are my general. I rehease at the theatre every day, from twelve to three, or four o'clock. Either before or after that. I will be punctual at whatever hour you appoint.
Another time, she addresses him as "Celui que j'aime le plus au monde," and ends her letter "Votre
