This season will see a remark. able development of English _influences on the French stage. The Odeon, the second State theatre, has commenced with a French version of the "Cricket on the Earth." Dickens, by the way, has an immense number of admirers in this country. I remember Jules Verne, where books of semi-scientific adventure are still the delight of boys the world over, telling me with what pleasure he had read the whole of Dickens, and I imagine it is the case with many intellectual Frenchmen. His works, too, have been familiarized 10 the crowd by their appearance a: " feuillemons" in the newspapers. Dickens lived for several seasons in succession at Bou-logan, where his tiny cottage still stands appearances la Paris, some memories rethe abject of pious pilgrimage. OF Dickens's main. He gave readings from his works in one of the large public hills What struck him most in his audience was the intelligence with which they followed him, many not knowing the language, by his tures and facial expressions. The \éAtre Antoine, also, is of such as do honour to Knylish literature, A play by Mr. Louis N. Parker, entitled "La Main clu Singe" (The Monkey's Hand) is presently to Se mounted, whilst a atill more signi. ficant representation will be King Lear which is promised for next month. last season we had Humlet" magnificently produced at the Comédie Frangaise an Phe Second Mrs. Tanqueray" of Pinero, played at the Odeon.
Edmond Rostand.
When Edmoni Roatan wrote " Cyrano de rac" and was received on the strength of it by the company of the Forty Immortals, people predicted the greatest carver. It somed that he was indeed the favourite of the gods. Barely thirty, haud-seme, with splendid lyrical gifts, rich, and married to a charming ant accomplished wife, there app-are! nothing wanting from his cup of happiness. But, alas there was one thing without " which other possession is in vain.
fis health was uncertain. And now it most to" much to hope to have "chef d'wuvre" from his pen, he comes rarely t" Paris prefering to li absolutely quiet and retired life in the distant Pyrenees. His town house, the scene of many interesting and delightful receptions hxs now been sold. He is under engagement to write a play for M. Coquelin, who is now established in the famous old Paris playhouse of the Gaité, but i- ix an open question with his personal friends whether he will be able to accomplish the work.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.