[Boston—Thursday, 7 December 1871]

Dec. 6 [sic]. 1871. Last night went with Lizzie to see the dancer Morlacchi. G.S. Hillard sat just in front of us. We were all delighted with the grace and physical beauty of form. The play was “The French Spy”, the same in which Mad. Celeste rendered herself in former years agone. Morlacchi and the queer Majiltons india-rubber people gave us great pleasure. We thought the tall one of the latter the man who sat to Zamaçois as the giant in our picture. Jamie was in Portland where he lectured, supped with G.T. Davis, then, returned home in time for breakfast this morning.

Charles Blanc in his Grammaire des arts du dessin writes “L’artiste qui se borne à imiter la nature n’en saisit que l’individualité: il est esclave. Celui qui interprète la nature en voit les qualités heureuses; il en démêle le caractère: il est maître. L’artiste qui l’idéalise y découvre ou y imprime l’image de la beauté: celui-là est un grand maître. … La nature en effet ne produit que des individus: l’art s’élève à la conception de l’espèce.”

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