Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1859-07-15
81 hear tn, echoing tread of Time,
Down the dim galleries of the Past,


And in the funeral train Of years,
follow where my way was cast"
1t is nearly ten years since I made
my first appearance in the mimic world
the stage; intervening time is full of
event--important to me, but not, per-
haps, Of sufficient Importance to others
to Justify a recital.
| will tell only the portent of u few
hours in which young girl-a very
child--lived years Of trembling hope
and gratifea ambition, which klndled
in the soul quenchlcss thirst to drink
the libations which the multitude pour
to the Deity Of Genius. l knew no.
thing of the hfc into which | stepped,
that night, across the threshold of my
fathers door. My brother had taken
me but once to the theatre, t. see the
great actor of the day in Macbeth :"
He WAS great. But the person repre-
senting Lady Macbeth was Of ordi-
nary capacity. The house shook with
applause, yet Il thought could see de-
fects in the representation, and felt a
momentary desire to spring upon the
stage and undertake the more forcible
rendering Of a character which the ac-
ttess rendered absurd to my conception.
Still the audience applauded the coarse,
stupid woman, who was decorating the
noble bard whose creations lave given
Immortality to historical beings which,
but for him, would now he slumberine
among the moth-eaten records from
which the antiquary can translate little
of great achievement. That night
lay awake tillHornins, reading "Mac-
beth" I need not detail the opera
tions of mind which in a few years
crowned me with the mimic diamonds
Of the tragic queen.
stood trembling at the wing Of the
largest theatre IN New Orleans, wait
ing for the word that would call me
before the multitude Of strange faces.
The house was one compact mass Of
humanity, attracted by the novelty Of
first appearance, and | could read
expectation and severe criticism in the
deep silence Of the audience. My heart
almost leaped out as stepped before
that throng. My first articulation wa:
low and labored, but although little
above a whisper, it sounded frightfully
loud as the applause, prompted by my
youthful appearance. subsidized t.
breathless silence. l could see thou
sands of eyes fixed on me, and the au
dience seemed to extend back half ;
mile, to a perspective focus, like tn
narrowing street Of a great city.
spoke with the desperation Of terror
After perhaps dozen sentences, maj
in the pit raped with his cane, an(
then came storm Of applause, which
to me seemed louder than the roar Of
thousand landward- coming waves, il
their dissolution on the rocks. 1t was
my first intoxicating draught Of graft.
fed ambition. My head reeled anc
swan as though the Gulf Stream swept
by me, but 1t was only momel tary, and
when silence was restored [ was strong
and self-rcliant. Round after round
of applause followed me through the
piece, and when the curtain fell could
feel the stage trembling as some one
led me to seat, and finally before the
curtain, in response to the continued
clamorings in front. Blessings on the
old man with stick But for him |
must have failed-but for him the poor,
trembling girl would have sunk before
the merciless gaze Of the throng, before
whom she was mere Of spectacle than
an actress. l am satisfied now that
my acting that night was like the ora
tory Of the school but the i'm
pulse Of that kind hearted man made
me return home exalted and proud as
the young hero at his first ovation.
Oh, how naughty was ny step as l
strobe home, listening to the congratu-
lations Of my friends. Siddons, in
her proudest conquest, never felt great
er exultation than did when my broth
err kissed my cheek, and talked Of the
events Of the evening.
Gloriously rose the morning sun
with his golden flood Of day; the worlt
was one great temple of fame, to thu
dome of which l was swiftly to climb
the heavens were but scroll on which
my name was to be written from al
alphabet Of stars. Little did I thinl
then that the flowers Of youth and hope
which bent over and dipped their face
in the gilded stream, would turn tt
Dead Sea fruit, and fall to ashes il
the stagnant pond, that lives withou
the boundaries Of Christian mercy
Among the visions of the new day
saw not the austere form Of Religion
with communicating ban, furrowin
a chasm between the actress and tn
Sacramento. 1 thought not that de
partment Of art made luminous by tn
highest intelligences Of centuries
should ever be craven around by tn
proscriptive chisel Of the ecclesiasti
and declared more profane than tn
work Of painter, sculptor, or histori
an. l saw only the golden creste
waves in which the sunlight Of sum
ner's day was entombed !; | felt not th
Arctic rigor which was to freeze me in
to . companionless desolation.
The scene fitted /; sat in lionel
tenement of a great city, watching th
life ebb away from little child, who,
Ilad lifted from the soup troughs {
the poor. Her face was so thin an
pale, yet beautiful as photograp
" rought by the pure light Of HEAVIER
from an angel who smiles on the slice