life and thought, he stands out-a unique figure-among his compeers, a poet in the fullest sense. Let the reader purchase

the volume, and judge of its beauty and promise.

MR.FITZGERALD MALLOY's late biography of Edmund Kean, has called forth some controversy in England. Several points of dispute have been raised upon the biographer's version of Kean's origin. While merely following the traditional and accepted history of the great actor's birth in his work, he has come forward in "The Spectator," and in reply to his commentators, clearly proved that Kean was really the illegitimate son of Nance Carey, and grandson to George Carey, the actor, as it is generally understood. Mr. Malloy, be it known, had a picturesque up-hill fight for existence when he first landed in London from the sister island, and succeeded in existing, and more than that, thriving. Like all clever people, Mr. Malloy has a strong individuality, which manifests itself for relaxation in the direction of "fads." His pet business is Theosophy. According to an expose which appeared in the gossip department of a Manchester paper lately, Mr. Malloy's private apartments are fantastically decorated with all sorts of curiosities pertaining to mysticism, brought over from Hindustan. He does all his thinking in the dark-we are gravely and unblushingly informed-because he has found this condition of things better adapted to the "manufacture" of thoughts. Evidently he has not heard of Bill Nye's apparatus. There followed such an amount of rubbish in the same sycophantic view, that we thought the writer must have learned interviewing in this city. That patch-work novel, "A Modern Magician,"

is from Mr. Malloy's pen, and it has been

a dismal failure. If, by any mischance, it had become a success, it could be properly termed a dismal success, for it smacks of hallucination and brain-poulticing.

It has come out that it was the elder Kean who used the expression, “when critics do agree, their unanimity is wonder. ful."

This was applied to the London pressring in a sneering manner by the erratic Kean, senior, when his brilliant son Charles made his first hit in conjunction with Miss F. H. Kelly at the Haymarket, in 1829. For two years previously Charles John Kean, had battled hard to win favor, but he had been steadily thrust back, much to the disgust of his father until, on the evening of October 6, 1829, he leaped into fame with one supreme effort. Success breeds success, and so we trace from thence-forward the upward flight of that great genius, the younger Kean.

Now that the regular critics of the press have got through with "The Yeoman of the Guard," permit your humble commentator-with a profound salaam to the moguls before mentioned-to offer his comments in a duly chastened spirit. It seems evident that all the pretty and romantic stories now being circulated about mysterious individuals dodging in dark corners of the "Casino auditorium, armed with phonographs, loaded pencils and other devilish devices for cheating Sir Aurthur Sallivan & Co. of their copyright perogations, it seems that all these tales are in some degree true. For the sake of the honor involved, let us way, it is hard to blame Brown for trying to checkmate Smith by advertising himself.

hope so. Any

This you know, is the penalty a successful theatrical man pays for being success

ful. Turning to the "The Yeoman of the Guard, it is now pretty generally admitted -striking an average of opinion-that W. S. Gilbert has run himself to seed in this late work. Of course, traces of Gilbert's constructive skill can be seen everywhere, but the spontaneity of genius is nowhere seen in the ensemble. The touch of refinement it is claimed is visible, but rather call it the touch of inanity. The difference one can observe between the libretto of "Princess Ida," the best lyrical work from his pen-and his present piece "The Yeoman of the Guard," is the difference distinguishable between a cultured man of fine discriminating instincts, and the priggish, inane refinement of Chawley Popinjay Rhinelander. Humorous works to be remembered, can be made to reflect an indefinate tincture of that quality which we will name refinement for the want of better term. Place "Boccaccio" beside daintily humorous " Princess Ida," and you will see "smut" and "color" outlined in contrast.

We have, however, no reference to the music of either. What is strikingly observable in the whole combined result of Messrs. Gilbert & Sullivan's loudly advertised efforts, is an operatic composition projected "against time." You can almost see where Mr. Gilbert after having sketched out his fairly-good plot, struggled hard to stage it, so as to give it the complexity and dramatic finish which necessitates the introduction of several stirring climaxes, and changes of scene; for in operatic art, this seems to be a structural feature which tends to cover up dramatic defects. Then we know his time for completion was limited, so he dashed at it, and divided the story in two precise halves-giving it on the half-shells as it were-and consequently, we now have to stand the ordeal of staring at one set of monotonous scenic

effects for a whole evening. Think of it! Oh! you remark, there is the fun, and the music, and the what-not else? Alas! for the fun. Let us briefly give our impressions: Staring at the gloomy picture of the tower walls and bastions, while seeing the opera, our eyes grew tired, and trying to find relaxation betimes in Mr. Gilbert's antique witticisms illustrated with thumb-. screw chopping-blocks and other pleasantries, we become enamored of Fred Solomon's lugubrious grimace. It is perfect. His lines find their apotheosis of expression in those pantomimic contortions in which his face revels. As the humor was being brewed, we tried to smile world-ways but failed.

Self-reproachfully your commentator asked himself what must not his neighbors on the right think-he of the six inch smile who had been out between the act to recuperate.

Cordially we shake ourselves up and try to generate an applausive grimace in response to those lavished sideways upon us by our neighbor, and thanks to perserverance, barely succeed. The atmosphere is surcharged all over with dyspeptic Mr. Gilbert in the mumps. Mr. Ryleyclever as he ever is-comes on and off. He quibbles and jests per note. He skips around heroically, to the inspiration of genial Mr. Jessie Williams's baton, and tries hard meanwhile to think of the cues Mr. Barker fetched along with him from the factory in London, and as the performance unwinds itself. In one scene too, Mr. Gilbert jokes with himself frequently in a saddened manner.

A word about the music: Sullivan's symphonic periods and concerted work. are fine indeed. The orchestration is throughout more than effective, and Mr. Aronson's excellent band under Mr. Wil

liams, interprets Suilivan with full justice. But we see here also the curiously inappropriate way the lyrics fit into the incidental music, giving one the impression that he had tacked one portion of "Macbeth" or some other unpublished work to this libretto beforehand, and waited until the last week to add the songs, ballads, duets, and other vocal belongings. This sense of incompleteness is what comes of sacrificing effect to money.

It is well to add that to a person residing in, or close to the city, with boundless opportunities for musical and theatrical enjoyment, a turn into the beantiful Casino will not prove a permanent harm; but to a poor unfortunate, who, relying upon the high reputation of this house, brings his wife, best girl or sister in from the country on purpose, expecting to go away happy, the effect must be depressing, to put it mildly. We respectfully hope that Mr. Aronson will produce some other work upon its merits soon, and will give us no more G. & S. upon the empty merit of tradition. Superstition is dying hard it

seems.

Ladies interested in such matters have found it extremely difficult during late years to procure autographs of the leading people who figure in the dramatic and musical world. The reasons are obvious. Prominent actors and managers especially, are troubled with so many requests from all over this vast continent that they-unless in special instances-utterly refuse to notice applications.

The exceptionally fine collection of these rare autographs in the possession of Mrs. Robert L. Sackett, of this city, compiled, by the way, within two years, which she exhibited to your contributor, the writer, recently, is an eloquent tribute to

the industry and perserverance of the compiler.

Almost every manager and actor of note is represented in the volume. Sincere respect for the exponents of dramatic art, were the incentives which prompted her to attempt the task, she assured the writer, not the gratification of caprice. The fortunate collector succeded generally in procuring the autographs by enclosing a neat card with the usual polite request. When

no answer was received, a second and a third followed. This rarely ever failed. Even Miss Rehan, who is dead set against giving away her autograph, relented at the sight of those delicaiely embossed and sweetly scented cards, and wrote her prettiest hand. She now occupies a place beside Jane Hading in the volume, and the two names seem delightfully mated. Young ladies can take a hint from this. Daniel Spillane.

GLASS COVERED PAINTINGS.

THERE are a number of paintings on exhibition at the Academy of Design which are in frames covered by glass.

These glass boxes are called "robbery boxes" in England, where they originated, as their effect is to rob a purchaser of money he pays for excellencies in a canvas that are not in it, but only in the plate glass covering it. All artists acknowledge that a poor picture is greatly improved, while a good one is injured, by a glass

cover.

The glass acts as a mirror and reflections of all the various lights and colors within its range, and the picture, although it may be chalky and opaque, when seen through this medium, seems pervaded with palpitating light and color; thus the work of an indifferent artist is made in some respects the equal of one in which an able and conscientious painter, has by subtle gradations of light and color, really given this depth and richness. Again, to the unsophisticated mind, the glass conveys an idea of

preciousness and such great pecuniary value that it must be thus protected from the air and dust or any chance touch. But artists know well enough that a picture is very rarely damaged from these causes.

To state the case in plain English, the glass is used simply to take in ignorant people by making them believe that a picture is better than it really is-and every wouldbe purchaser of a glass-covered picture should demand the removal of the glass before buying it.

If a picture dealer wishes to practice such trickery, let him do so; but no body of artists who are working for the advancement of their art can afford it.

I do not believe that the artists have thought of it in this light. They naturally wish their work to appear as attractive as possible, and have not further considered the subject; but their individual honesty and their sense of what is due to their profession, will show them that it is wrong.

In the exhibitions of the Salon and of the Royal Academy, and, I believe, in all other European exhibitions managed by artists, oil paintings covered with glass are ruled out. Let it be so with the galleries in this country.

THE WEEK.

A Student.

BRONSON HOWARD'S NEW PLAY.

"SHENANDOAH," Mr. Bronson How

ard's new five-act military drama, was produced for the first time at the Boston Museum, Nov. 19. Written especially for the Museum company, its preparation was most elaborate in every espect, and dramatically and artistically the play has won; successfully meeting the critical inspection of a distinguished audience whose verdict must be accepted as both discriminate and flattering. In view, also, of the commemoration of the close of Mr. R. M. Fields' twenty-fifth year as manager of this historic house, which this play is to emphasize, he has every reason to feel proud of its unques

tionable ability to meet the popular taste for military plays and also the demand for good comedy. Its story is not a new one; nor does it contain elements that can be pronounced startling. The first act is laid. in Charleston, S. C., the time being that which ushered in the morning of the first attack on Fort Sumpter, April 12, 1861, and serves to introduce the following characters, who have been gathered at a party held in the Ellingham mansion, and who as its guests are awaitidg with emotions attuned to their individual sense of patriotism the moment in which the confederate battery, stationed across the harbor, is to open fire on Anderson and his noble band in accordance with Beauregard's last message to the latter, sent at 3.20 a. m., that day :-"I shall open fire in one hour."

each other; Madeline and Robert entertaining a similar passion for each other; and that Frank is a fugitive from justice, living in New York, under cover, and the possessor of a pretty wife, his crime being embezzlement. Thornton is the villian of the play. He is persecuting Mrs. Haverill with his unholy love, which serves to introduce the complicating factor in the drama. Colonel Haverill's regiment has been stationed in Charleston, now ordered to the North. The scene, an exterior, shows the Ellingham residence and grounds, situated near the city and overlooking the harbor, with Fort Sumpter in the distance. The act ends with the first

Here another pair of lovers are brought forward in Heartease and Jenny. At first, Robert appears, the bearer of secret dispatches to Early. He has stopped at his home to change horses. While in the room with his sister is discovered by Jenny, who with Madeline, has arrived to visit their old friend. He enters an inner room, into which Madeline is sent by Jenny, and these lovers meet again, although Jenny accuses herself of a high crime in permitting this. Gertrude disappears with the despatches as the house is being surrounded by a regiment of Union cavalry, a squad from which enter to search it and just miss taking Robert who escapes from it. The The house is made the regiment's headquarters, and then follows a meeting between Jenny and Heartsease, after which, Lieut. Bedloe appears, having just reported for duty with it. He is recognized by West and Heartease as Frank Haverill,

who is supposed to have been killed in '61, in New Orleans. They promise to keep his secret just as his father enters and who announces that Volunteers are revuired to form a party to capture the Confederate signal-station on Three-Top Mountain. Bedloe begs for the detail and gets it, thereby hoping to redeem his past to his father and the world by an act of heroism. He departs on his duty, following whom goes Heartsease to keep an eye on the young man. The capture of Gertrude while attempting to pass the lines with Thornton, who gets away far the nonce with the despatches, and his final capture in the end, close the act.

The third and fourth acts show the exterior of the Ellingham residence with the Shenandoah Valley stretching away toward Three-Top Mountain. In them is told the capture of Bedloe after he has taken the rebel-signal station and secured its code-book, which is brought to Col. West by Barket; the copture of Col. Ellingham, who is exchanged for Bedloe; the attempted escape and re-capture of Thornton, who severely wounds West; the return of Bedloe fatally wounded and his death; and the transmissions of signals by the Union signal-corps and the reading of those sent by the Confederates, by means of their captured code. During the close of the fourth the attack by Early or Sheridan's army is begun; the retreating boys in blue begin to appear while the fighting about the house increases, and finally the cry that Sheridan is coming checks their steps until, with shouts of joy, a black horse bearing the great general dashes across the scene and defeat is turned into victory.

The fifth act is laid in Washington in 1865, at the residence of Gen. Buckthorn. Here the misunderstanding between this