AMONG MY PHOTOGRAPHS.

sneers, and to set the other on a gilded pedestal, but I imagine the slender one will come in at the finish a winner.

*

THEY tell me that "Erminie" is back in the Casino. I used to express my dislike for that popular operetta whenever it was mentioned, but I got exhausted long ago trying to find some one to agree with me about it; and if it stays on many more years I will abandon my faith in Gilbert aud Sullivan, and start diligently on a study of Harry Paulton and whoever that man is who composed "Erminie," hoping in that way to get alongside of the multitude that continues to be pleased, and to beat me in musical discrimination.

C. M. S. McLellan.

INSPIRATION.

STEP silently, the room is all afloat

With dim and vague unuttered thoughts divine,
Across the threshold, beautiful, sublime,
They come in radiance from some realm remote.

Chaotic fancies rush along the deep

Of mind and soul in struggle to be free,
And melodies from far eternity
Echo adown the winding paths of sleep.
And thus the poet-seer in knowledge blest,
Weaves far beyond the rugged wall of sense
The sweetest music of life's recompense,
And nobler thoughts and hopes are manifest.
He sings in splendor at a work apart,
Among the distant stars that gleam and glow,
Yet breaking thro' the shadowy rifts below
To light the darkened silence with his art.
Unto the world he gives a golden scroll
Filled with a balm of love and sympathy;
Like clouds across the noontide heated sky,
Cooling the longing of a parched soul.

For Nature in her vast wide solitude
Creates a power in the yearning heart,
To reach the goal of some far dreamland art
Within the golden gate of fame's abode.

Below, the world is revelling in war,
Ambition strives to ideal heights in vain ;
Above, the stretch of wide, blue Summer plain
Bends down in peace and quietude afar.

So inspiration comes in wondrous ways,
To poet and to player both, divine,
Inheritors of genius' sunny clime,
Where art, in progress, rules as king of days.
Mabel Hayden.

IN my cosy little boudoir where the sun shines in warm and bright, there hangs on one of the doors a photograph-rack of actors and actresses, some dead and some living. It is rather an interesting collection, though it is not one half Dixey or Mrs. Langtry. Away up in the left-hand corner is the intelligent face of Mrs. John Ward née Helen Dauvray, with "Yours truly," written in her own peculiar way. She is such a merry, lively person, bright as a steel-trap, with so much energy and dash about her as to make every-day women seem flat and stupid. Though she has for a time retired, let us hope she has not said "Good-bye forever" to the stage. Then, next to the bride, is the pleasant, jovial face of Wm. H. Crane, who is simply coining money down there at the Union Square Theatre. He is in his thirty-ninth year, a devoted husband, has no children (in spite of the papers), and used to play Birbanto in the "Corsair," in Boston. It was among his first successes. Next to Mr. Crane is the sweet, delicate profile of Venie Clancey, and on the back is written by one of her most ardent admirers, who knew her well: "Died, Wednesday, March 1st, 1882, in California, age twentytwo years." She was the ideal Evangeline, if ever there was one, says this admirer, "and her sweet voice and lovely face, the very essence of refinement and girlishness, has not been supplanted yet." I should think it would make poor Venie turn over in her grave, to hear the pretty, but affected Miss Montague speak the lines of Medora the part she created in Boston and broke the

hearts of all the jeunesse dorée in the Hub. She had only been married a little while, and died of consumption, while she was just at the height of her success. At no public performance were two actresses ever given the number of flowers that Lizzie Webster and Venie Clancey were on a benefit night of "Evangeline," at the Globe Theatre, Boston. The stage was literally filled with flowers in all designs and shapes, and the two actresses were almost completely hidden from the audience. The scene was quite affecting, so much so that Venie Clancey was brought to tears. Next to Miss Clancey is the manly form, the strong face of Charles R. Thorne, Jr., Mr. Palmer's greatest leading man, and also New York's greatest leading man. was an Atheist as is also Stuart Robson and another actor whose name I cannot recall; and the three men once made a solemn vow that no religious ceremonies were to take place at their funerals. Mr. Thorne was the first to die, and in no way was his wish broken, and his body went to the grave with only a few words spoken by Stuart Robson at the house. He was rather a peculiar man, perhaps, and at times very eccentric-but what an actor! What a deep, intense voice: he simply made one listen. It is a great pity his children have inherited so little of his fire.

He

Just below Mr. Thorne is a pretty picture of Mrs. Nat. C. Goodwin (Eliza Weathersby). Alas! she, too, has gone, and I am afraid there will never be any one who will suggest her vanished sprightliness. She seemed to be sui generis. Not only was she exceptionally bright and sparkling, but she appeared to represent a higher intellectuality than any of the burlesque actresses on the stage today. Then comes such a handsome man! one whose Grosvenor all the girls raved about, and spent all their allowances for seats in the front row and baskets of flowers. This royal crusher of the female heart is Mr. James Barton Key. Alas! he, too, is a thing of the past; that is, his blonde perfectness is; to-day he is still an exceedingly handsome man, but not the Adonis he once was. He is a hail fellow well met; every one's friend, and generous to a fault. If any one is in trouble, let him or her go to "Barty," as he is familiarly called, and no one will be more sympathetic or quick to lend a helping hand or a silver dollar. He is now managing Mrs. James Brown Potter: doing the heavy swell for Mr. Miner. Four lovely photos of Miss Ada Rehan follow, one representing her in what I consider her most captivating part: Peggy, in "The Country Giri." You are

surprised that I have so many likenesses of this charming actress? Well, you see, she is my favorite of all New York leading women, so I indulge myself. I don't think I can tell you anything in particular about her; she leads such a quiet life, and there is little concerning her in the papers. She does not seek free advertising by newspaper notoriety. She has two or three sisters on the stage; one is Mrs. Oliver Doud Byron. The clean-shaven face of Mr. E. A. Sothern looks down upon me, as much as to say: What are you going to write about me? (with a physiognomy that honorably echoes the superbly side-whiskered man whose photograph is just above him, and who all the world knew as the delightful Lord Dundreary.) Well, not much, for you have all read lots about this clever young man; he is such a favorite. His "Yours Sincerely," on the top of his picture, and the date accompanying it, recalls to me the first time I met him, at a jolly little impromptu supper at a mutual friend's; and the number of sardines-or "tin fishes," as he insisted upon calling them-that he ate was quite marvellous. He is much bored by notes and flowers from the dear girls, who fondly believe he has smiled on them as they sit in all the glory of the front row.

Let me say right here, that girls have just as much weakness for the front row when they want to see their own particular actor as the dude or bald patrician has. Several photos of Miss Lillian Grubb who has cleverly worked her way up the comic opera ladder to the top, the Casino, come about the centre of the rack; she has been a favorite with the New York men for several seasons, has a good voice, is a pretty woman, but has a little affected way of speaking that rather spoils her. She is not, however, a good actress, and never will be, as her rapid ascension to the rather giddy height she has now attained, will spoil her for any more real hard work, and she has reached her ultimatum. Pretty Geraldine Ulmer in a stylish travelling suit looks as if she was starting for home, but I have not heard of her coming, and I am afraid it is only the photo that looks it. She is making too much of a success in "dear smoky London,” to return to America, the home of the brave and many pretty comic opera singers and chorus girls. I have been informed that " Dolly" has told many a bright story over a bottle or two of champagne with a jolly party in her pleasant apartments in the Westminster, where she lives, when at home. Miss Lillian Russell in a great big hat: she started at Tony Pastor's, starred, had two or three husbands, come

back again as "leading lady," and now contemplates grand opera. She is a beautiful woman, with a lovely voice, and let us hope has sown her wild oats. Mrs. D. P. Bowers in her stately Queen Elizabeth robe, is a very tragic actress on the stage, but anything besides off-she is so lively and full of fun, a most lovable and companionable woman so girlish and sweet, the soft gray hair on her forehead seems almost a farce. She is most entertaining, and here in this very little parlor she was so bright and funny over a Welsh rarebit, one night after the performance during her last engagement in New York. Two handsome panels of sweet Miss Annie Robe: how finely she acts in "Paul Kauvar"! she is doing the greatest acting she has done in New York, and how pretty she is with her soft golden hair! She was a great favorite at Wallacks, and is, I think, one of the youngest (if not the youngest) leading women we have. She has a Spanish parrot that is devoted to her, and never leaves her shoulder when she is in the house. The finest taken photograph in the whole collection is one of Mr. Charles B. Welles, recently leading man with Mr. Barrett. It is one taken way out in Milwaukee, but it should excite the jealousy of any of our photographers, it is so exquisitely fine, almost as though it had been done from an oil painting. Mr. Welles' figure is very handsome; he is well dressed (in the costume he wore in Rienzi), so the tout ensemble is striking. Rhéa, as Juliet, comes next. Why has she never played here? She is rather like Mme. Mojeska, or perhaps it is her accent that reminds one of her. She is a good actress, painstaking and hardworking, and I wish her success. We have many good actresses, but few great ones; they all get to a certain point and then stick. Their ambition dies out after a certain point has been reached. The statuesque Mary Ander- ! son in a big Gainsborough, and, just at her left, Mrs. Stirling, her nurse, in “Juliet." Then there is Sidney, the baby of the Drew family, who always plays comedy, but is a very serious young man, and would adore playing Romeo and Claude Melnotte, but whose physique and voice prevent. His mother, Mrs. John Drew, always comes on from Philadelphia to see her son act on the first night of a new part; and at the "first night of "Paul Kauvar " was seen in a box watching most minutely his every action. Sidney says he does not dread any of the critics as much as he does his mother's criticism, and cares more for her opinion than for all the Winters and Howards in the city. Mr. Harry Edwards,

the "bug" man who has given to THE THEATRE some delightfully interesting specimens of "Among My Autographs,' (I must admit that I stole my heading to this humble article from his), is a very jolly man, always good-natured, with a smile for all and each of his friends, who are really legion. He is an entymologist, and is said to have one of the finest collections in the world. Mr. Henry Lee, in his handsome dress, worn as Gouroc, in "Paul Kauvar," when he played that part in Buffalo, and just alongside of him his lovely little dog,

Earl." There is Miss Genevieve Lytton, in the Directoire dress worn in "Anarchy," when she created the part of Diane. Mr. Edgar S. Kelley, who writes such delightful music and looks so serious; but he isn't one bit so; he is really awfully funny, and tells many a good story in his own inimitable way.

His playing is beautiful, and he has spent evening after evening in this little room at the piano. Mr. Kyrle Bellew, who, the first time I met him, was deeply grieved because I called him Mr. Belloo. I was instantly corrected by him, however, with great dignity, and requested to say Mr. Bellew. Since then I have never repeated my terrible faux pas. Here is Mr. Arthur Wallack who was one of a party on a short yachting cruise, two Summers ago, and entertained us with wonderful stories of his valuable big St. Bernard dog. Mr. James Lewis and Mrs. G. H. Gilbert, arm-in-arm, taken in London; Miss Pauline Hall, the Queen of Diamonds; Miss Marie Jansen, whose little feet are the envy of all girls; Miss Bertha Ricci and her fascinating dimple; dear old John Gilbert, who every one just loves to see come on the stage, and many other members of the profession, complete my rack. I would like to give all as much room here, but, alas! I have been limited to space.

Marie Adelaide Welch.

THE PRETTY WHITE AND RED COVER.

(From the Springfield Republican.)

A GOOD word must be spoken for the Christmas number of THE THEATRE, Deshler Welch's admirable little dramatic review. Inside the pretty red and white paper covers are found a store of good things. William Winter records the career of Augustin Daly, whose success he attributes to foresight, perseverance and judicious skill in pleasing, and at the same time bettering the public taste. A fine portrait of Mr. Daly, drawn and engraved by Kurtz, forms the frontispiece to the magazine. "Dear

old John Gilbert " has a delightful letter about the prodigies of the stage; Valentine Hall writes entertainingly of Mr. Coward and Miss Brady of the New York Amateur Comedy Club, and "The Caricaturists of the Stage" are treated by Lewis Rosenthal.

HERR ERNST POSSART. THE German Theatre, as a means of eduIcation and cultivation of the taste for the fine arts is acknowledged to be in advance of all other countries, thanks to the versatility, thorough education, untiring energy. and industry of the actors and actresses, who constitute the various companies and the zeal of the managers in charge. The audiences, not being accustomed to attend one theatre one evening and another the next for variety, expect and demand the necessary change in the leading theatre (usually subsidized by the court, state or city), which affords a change of play every night.

The public, many of whom are subscribers who attend regularly, perhaps every night, or alternate nights, are thus given a pleasing variety of dramas and operas--for music is combined with the drama in a manner that is never dreamed of in this country or England. Imagine a repertoire for one week such as may be found in the average court theatre in Germany, Sunday" Lohengrin," Monday "Egmont" (with Beethoven's music too, with an orchestra of sixty), Tuesday "Fra Diavolo," Wednesday "Dr. Klaus (serio comedy), Thursday "Don Juan," Friday "A Midsummer Night's Dream' (with Mendelssohn's music), and Saturday Robert and Bertram" (farce in five acts with songs introduced).

From a glance at the above list it may readily be seen that the German theatres provide their patrons with a most diverse menu, and that they are not limited to one school of music, any more than to one style of drama, and the main object is to acquaint their people with the best of all nations.

At the head of these directors and actors of the day stands Herr Ernst Possart, whose Gastspiel" or as we term it "Star engagement" at the. Thalia Theatre, has met with such brilliant success.

Herr Possart was born May 11, 1841, in Berlin. His father, a well-educated merchant of means, gave him a liberal education. His talent showed itself first in his fondness for declamation, which led his parents to believe that his vocation would be that of a clergyman, but here they were doomed to disappointment.

After finishing his course of studies in the Gymnasium, he entered Kaiser's book-publishing house, where his praiseworthy industry won for him the good-will of all. While here engaged he saw the Berlin actor Kaiser (a brother of the publisher), whose performance produced such a powerful impression upon him that he resolved to be

come an actor. Knowing that his parents would not approve of this step, he imparted his plans to Kaiser himself who kindly instructed him, secretly, in elocution; and all this while he continued his clerical duties. Finding that his parents would not listen to his request to follow the stage, he packed up and ran away, feeling that he would succeed in the long run even if he had to suffer the disappointments which await all young artistes.

His first engagement was in Breslau, and here it was where he assisted the courts of justice in a very peculiar manner. One evening while Possart was portraying the tortures of a conscience-stricken murderer, a wild cry was heard in the gallery and a criminal who had thus far eluded detection came trembling and delivered himself to a police officer, his nerves having been so wrought upon that he was completely over

come.

Herr Possart, after a year's engagement in Breslau and a shorter one in Berne, Switzerland, went to Hamburg where he soon became a favorite at the City Theatre. During his sojourn in Hamburg he was invited to play a star engagement in the Court Theatre in Munich. He appeared the first evening as Franz Moor, and his success was so overwhelming that he was immediately engaged by the director of this theatre, so that from the year 1864 until last spring he has been a member of the Royal Bavarian Court Theatre, and for several years director of the same. Here he has had opportunity to present the following roles from Shakespeare: King John, Richard III., Shylock, Iago, King Lear, Hamlet, Mercutio. From Goethe: Mephisto, Carlos, Antonio. From Schiller: Franz Moor, Wurm, Burleigh, Domingo, Talbot, Gessler, Muley-Hassan. From Lessing, Nathan and Morinelli. He has also achieved great success in character rôles like Narciss, Alter Fritz, Hans Jurgens, etc., but the crown of his achievements is Byron's Manfred, which, together with Schumann's music, was produced for the first time on the stage in Munich under Possart's management.

As Byron announced in the preface to his poem, he did not intend it for the stage, it will be of great interest to all literary, dramatic and musical connoissenrs, to see what the effect of a dramatic production of Manfred will be lifted, as it was by Schumann, to the prominence of a public performance, and a symphonic concert, and now by Possart to a drama, with a most poetical musical setting.

In 1880 Herr Possart inaugurated the

"model performances" (Mustervorstellungen) in the Court Theatre in Munich, on which occasion the leading artists from all the leading theatres in Germany took part. During the month of March "model performances" will be given at the Thalia Theatre, when several of Germany's leading actors and actresses will be seen. In the meantime Herr Possart will appear in Nathan the Wise, Faust, Lear, Hamlet, Henry IV., Napoleon, Dr. Claus, Richard III., The Robbers and Manfred.

To those who are studying the German language these performances cannot be too strongly recommended.

Edgar S. Kelley.

WANTED. A winning and modest appearing male baby, three months old, of unexceptionable moral character, would like to avail himself of the advantages of a nurse. Baby's name is mostly "Tootsey-Wootsey-Mamma's-Pet," but it can be changed to "Bub," if that seems to come handier. Can refer to seventeen nurses now in the lunatic asylum, with whom he has lived during the past four weeks. Address "LITTLE ANGEL."

A WORK by Johann Sebastian Bach, which, when first found, created a profound sensation among musicians, has just been published in the shape of a score for pianoforte and voice by Breitkopf & Härtel. This is the third Passion music composed by Bach, and is set to words by St. Luke. The work dates from Bach's youth, and is not as colossal in form or contents as the St. Matthew or the St. John Passion music, and only after a wordy warfare has it been agreed that it is by Bach. It is to be performed for the first time this season by the Berlin Philharmonic Chorus.

con

A BUST of Taglioni, the famous dancer, has been placed in the ballet green-room of the Opera, Paris. There were two Taglionis-the great and the little. The latter was the aunt of the " stellation," and she figured on the stage with indifferent success from 1804 to 1806. Marie, the brilliant niece, first appeared at the opera in July, 1827. In a year she had dethroned the queen of the Paris ballet, Mme. Montessu, who was protected by Lubert, manager of the Opera, who afterward became a cabinet minister in Egypt. Critics, playgoers, and connoisseurs were in raptures about the half-Sweedish, half-Italian sylph, who was plain and almost deformed, but danced like a fairy, and, according to one of her devotees, when she appeared as a naiad, veritably floated along the boards like a drop of water on a branch of coral. Another enthusiast called her the "Venus of Modern Mythology," and Méry, in a poem, compared her to a butterfly. Taglioni was so popular among the Parisians that she was applauded like a queen whenever she appeared in public.

ART CHAT.

THE Fall Exhibition of '87 is still open at the American Art Galleries. It is likely to be for some time to come.

The Makart which is shown in conjunction with the Fall Exhibition has had our consideration, but my "Chats" having been crowded out two or three times, lately, the American paintings have not been discussed.

They are most of them of rare quality, being, the majority of them, paintings, not studies, from nature, which the authors of them have, no doubt, thought good enough for exhibition, but not important enough in subject to be held over till the "Academy," or the "Society of American Artists" Exhibitions, in the Spring. Besides these there are a number of very ambitious compositions by younger men, many of whom are studying abroad.

AMONG the first class of works are notably five studies (Nos. 62 to 66) about Flatbush and the Brooklyn Navy Yard, by W. M. Chase, which are simply perfect, as simple, direct notes of sunlight effects and values. They are unattractive in the extreme to laymen, but full of meaning to the art student. F. A. Bridgeman sends from abroad two Algerian studies, which are nearer to his best early efforts than the paintings we have seen from his brush for the last three or four seasons. "The Neighbors" (34) is particularly strong in that pure coloring which gave his early pictures a virtue which outrivalled his master's, Gérome's, work.

R. Cleveland Coxe evidently intends to exhibit some large storm or fog effect, later on in the season, in which he need not overstep the qualities of his two small, quiet marines, "Summer Afternoon" (72) and "Fog-Gloucester Harbor" (73), especially the latter, which is about as near a realization of salt-water fog as pigment can pro

cure.

Walter Satterlee shows his strongest points in an open-air, strong sunlight study of "A Breton Winnower' (233). She stands, sieve in hand (her skirts blown by the breeze), the chaff flying, the grain falling: a realistic figure, in a realistic landscape; with shadows thrown by a luminous sun; they are not mere darkened spots. Mr. Satterlee's study is, moreover, a complete picture, and leaves nothing more to be desired. "Breton Gossips" (234) is also by the same artist.