Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 439 | Page 4

was the
magnet of attraction, the careless glance of a monarch become from
habit almost insensible to the loyal enthusiasm of his subjects.
'So he will not come?' said the tragedian to an old friend who was with
him. 'He is a cynical old fool; and yet, I assure you, my dear M. Lesec,
that I had Leonidas got up expressly for him, thinking to tickle his old
republican fancies, for to my mind it is as stupid a play as Germanicus,
though I contrive to produce an effect with some of its high-sounding
patriotic passages; and I thought the worthy David would have
recognised his own picture vivified. But he will not come: he positively
refused, you tell me. I might have known it. Age, exile, the memory of
the past--all this has cut him up terribly: he is the David of the
Consulate no longer.'
'I am just come from him,' answered Collector Lesec: 'he received me
almost as Hermione receives Orestes in the fourth act of Andromache.
To say the least of it, he was somewhat tart. "I never go to the theatre,"
he answered abruptly. "Tell my friend Talma, that I thank him for his
kindness; but I always go to bed at nine. I should be very glad if he
would come, before he left Brussels, and have a tankard and a smoke
with me."'
'I see,' said Talma with a half-ironical smile, 'he is turned quite Flemish.
Poor fellow! to what has he come?--to smoking tobacco, and losing all
faith in art. Persecution does more harm than the guillotine,' added the
tragedian in a tone of bitterness. 'There is a living death. David's exile

has deprived us of many a chef-d'oeuvre. I can forgive the Restoration
for surrounding itself with nobodies, but it need not banish our men of
talent: they are not to be found now-a-days in every corner. But enough.
Another word, and we should be talking politics.'
Leonidas finished shaving like any other man; and then turned
suddenly to his friend: 'I bet you ten napoleons,' said he, 'that David
would have come to the play had I gone myself to him with the
invitation! I intended it, but I had not time; these rehearsals kill me--I
might as well be a galley-slave. However, I have about three-quarters
of an hour to myself now, and I will go beard the old Roman in his
stronghold. What say you to going with me?'
It would have been difficult to name a place to which M. Lesec would
not have gone, to have the honour of being seen arm-in-arm with the
great Talma; and in another half hour they were on their way across the
Place de la Monnaie into the Rue Pierre Plate.
'Now for a storm!' said Lesec. 'We are in for it: so be prepared. I leave
it all on your shoulders, noble sir, for I must keep clear of him.'
'Is he, then, so entirely changed?' exclaimed Talma, quickening his
pace. 'Poor exile! unhappy genius! torn from thy native soil, to languish
and die!'
The visitors soon reached the large, though somewhat dilapidated
mansion of the celebrated artist; and after they had been reconnoitred
through a small grating by an old female servant, they were ushered
into a rather gloomy apartment, presenting a singular discrepancy
between its antique decorations and modern furniture.
The illustrious exile came out of an adjoining apartment in his
dressing-gown, and advanced towards them with a quick yet almost
majestic step, though his form was slightly bent, apparently by age. To
Talma's great surprise, David received him most cordially, even
throwing away his usually inseparable companion, a long pipe, to grasp
both his hands. 'Welcome, welcome, my old friend!' he said; 'you could
not have come at a better time. I have not for many a day felt so happy,

and the sight of you is a great addition.' And the old painter kept
rubbing his hands, a token with him of exuberant satisfaction.
Talma looked at Lesec as much as to say: 'The devil is not quite so
black as he is painted;' while the worthy collector only shrugged his
shoulders, and lifted his eyebrows in pantomimic expression of his
inability to comprehend such a sudden change in the atmosphere.
'You must promise to come and dine with me to-morrow,' continued
the painter, accompanying his invitation with a smile, or rather a grin,
for David's face was very much disfigured by a wen on his cheek,
which also, by causing a twitching of the jaw, rendered his articulation
indistinct.
'To my great regret, I am obliged to decline your invitation, my dear
friend,' said Talma. 'This is my last night here, and I must set off for
Paris to-morrow.'
'Set off to-morrow!'
'Positively. Michelet and Dumas