Weekly Trinity journal., 1858-07-03
}NIA. SATURDAY, JULY 3, 1853.
ORION l..
Passages i'm the Life of nn Actress.
81 hear the echoing tread of time
Down the dim galleries of the Past,
And in the funeral train Of years,
follow where my way was cast


/ intervening time is full of evcnt-important to
me, but not, perhaps, of sufficient Importance to
others to justify recital
will tell only the portent of few hours in
which young girl--a very child-lved years of
trembling hope and gratled ambition, which kin
died in the soul quenchess thirst to drink the
libations which the multitude pour to the deity
of Genius. knew nothing of the life into which
| stepped that night, across the threshold of my
fathers door. My brother had taken me but
once to the Theatre to see the great actor of the
day in "Macbeth." lie tcds great. But the per
son representing Lady Macbeth, was of ord
nary capacity. The house shook with applause,
yet thought could perceive defects in the rep
resenation, and felt momentary desire to spring
upon the stage and undertake the more forcible
rendering of character which the actress made
absurd to my own conception. Still the audi
ence applauded the coarse, stupid woman who
was laccrating the noble bard whose creations
have given Immortality to historical beings
which, but for him, would now be slumbcring
among the moth-catcn records from which the
antiquary can translate little of great achieve
ment. That night | lay awake till morning, read
ing " Macbeth" need not detail the operations
of mind which in few years crowned me with
the mimic diamonds of the tragedy queen
| stood trembling at the wing Of the largest
Theatre in New Orleans, waiting for the word
that would call me before n multitude OF strange
faces The house was one compact of humanity,
attracted by the novelty of first appearance
| could read expectation and severe criticism in
the deep silence of the audience, and my heart
almost lcapt out as | stepped before the immense
throng My first articulation was low and labor
ed, but although little above a whisper it sound
cd frightluly loud, as the applause, prompted by
my youthful appearance, subsidized to breathlcss
silence. | could see thousands of eyes fixed on
me, and the audience seemed to extend back half
a mile, to perspective focus, like the narrowing
street Of great city. spoke with the despcr-
alton Of terror. After perhaps dozen senten
ccs a man in the pit raped with his cane, and
then came storm Of applause, which to me seem
ed louder than the roar of thousand landward-
coming waves, in their dissolution on the rocks.
1t was my first intoxicating draught of gratdcd
ambition. My head realed and swan as though
the Gulf Stream swept by me, but il was only
momcntary, and when silence was restored was
strong and sclfrelant Round after round Of
applause followed me through the piece, and
when the curtain fell would feel the stage trcm-
bling as some one led me to seat, and finally,
before the curtain, in response to the continued
camoiings in front. Blessings on that old man
with Il stick But for him must have failed
but for him the poor trembling girl would have
sunk before the mcrcless gaze Of the throng, be
fore whom she was more Of II spectacle than an
actress | am satisfied now that my acting that
night was like the oratory of the school room,
but the impulse of that kind hearted man made
me return home exultant and proud as the young
hero at his first ovation. Oh how naughty was my
step as trodc home, listening to the congratu-
lations of my friends. Siddons, in her proudest
conquest. never felt greater cxultation than did
/, when my brother kissed my check, and talked
Of the events Of the evening. Glorlously rose
the morning sun, with his golden food Of day
the world was one great temple of fame to the
dome Of which was to swiftly climb the hca-
vens were but scroll, on which my name was to
written from an alphabet of stars. Little did |
think then that the flowers of youth and hope
which bent over and dipped their faces in the
gilded stream, would turn to Dead Sea fruit, and
fall to ashes in the stagnant pool that lies with
out the boundaries of christian mercy Among
the visions of that new day, saw not the aus
tere form Of Religion with communicating ban
furrowing chasm between the actress and the
Sacraments | thought not that department OF
art made luminous by the highest intellgences |
Of centuries, should ever be craven around ny
the proscriptive chisel Of eccl"slastc, ana DC
clarcd more profanc than the work of painter,
sculptor or historian | saw only the golden
crested waves in which the sunlight OF sum
mer's day was cntombed felt not the Arctic
ripor which was to freeze me into companionless
isolation
The scene shifted ; | safe in a lonely tenement
of a'grcat city, watching the life ebb away from
little child whom had lifted from the soup
troughs OF the poor. Her face was so thin and
pale, yet beautiful as a photograph wrought by
the pure light of heaven, from the angel who
smiles on the sleep of innocence. l could see the
blood coagulating in her blue veins, and felt
the tremor when the pure soul eapt out into the
territory Of angels. | was alone-wilh no one
to love me on the earth. The tragedy queen oe-
came peasant of sorrow,-alone in the crowd
of the followers of Christ, without one hand OF
benedction, save her own, on the little monu-
ment of Mary All, could the world and the
church look within the cheerless chamber
of the actress, when weary and faint she lays
her aching head on the pillow, and kneels
by tho little bed Of her sick child, disnp-