The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1882-09-22
SARAH BERNHARDT.
Something About her Bohemian Instincts
and her Private Life I'm New York.
Propidepce Star.


Providence Star.
OF her public career In New York every
body knows; of her private life most people
heaven knows! Her conduct was an enigma
and q disappointment to the scandalized
community, who had read accounts finer ex-
travagances copied out Of French journals.
and so 1t was said she was afraid of one and
was refused the other. As q fact, IL was So
ciety and not Bernhard who wss snubbed.
There were houses on Murray Hill, on Gram
ercy Park, and Washington square even that
would gladly have opened to her had she
willed it, but the courtesy she accepted was
the characteristic one of a mans dinner given
her by an old American friend, q well known
gentleman in New York. Yet she had her
own circle and her own salon during her
whole sojourn, and to the favored few admit
ted on these occasions she was the most
graceful of hostesses and the most brilliant
of women. Bernhard was at heart q thor
ough Bohemian. She liked ideas and was
indifferent to mortals. She despised rules
and precedents solely as such, and allowed
for any vagary that had reason for its vouch-
er. Utterly fearless of criticism, supremely
contemptuous of mediocrity, she regulated
her tastes and habits by her own inner con-
sciousness of what she considered best for
herself and left the rest of the world to regu-
late itself.
Her versatile gifts drew men of all sorts
about her; artists, sculptors, architects, ac-
tors, musicians, men of letters, all found her
responsive to their advances. She not only
understood ana appreciated their ideas, but
was no mean proficient in their work; she
could paint with the artists, model with the
sculpt0rs, play with the musicians, write ver-
ses with the poets, and give lessons to the
actors, as we'll as design theatres with the
architects. Her versatility was an unfailing
surprise. In all but her profession she was
an amateur, but it was the amateurishness of
genius, however faulty the technical per-
formancs, the artistic instinct was always
sure. To such woman, w0men's society
was as repugnant as she herself was repug-
nant to women. With the exception of
Clara Morris, aud believe Mary Anderson,
| know of no women outside her own conf
pany whom she met in New York. This
was not, am convinced because of prefer
ence for men as men, but because they rep
resented ideas which she knew few women
had. believe If she ever met q woman who
was her intellectual equal she would have
been her friend as long as her bohemianism
was unconfned. But she was essentially
social free lance, and Mould have had more
i'll common with George Sand than George
Eliot. So it was the world saw little or
nothing Of Sarah Benhardt off the stage.
When going to the theatre she took q close
carriage with her private agent, Mr.. James
Jarrett, an old. English theatrical manager.
Occasionally her face, seen from the windows
of her parlors, would create q sensation
among the passers beneath; and often in the
early afternoon she drove in the park in
coupe, always In Mr.. Jsrrett's company.
Sometimes she would have reckless freak
or become prostrated through the hard, ex-
acting work she was compelled to get
through, and Disgusting herself as well as
possible, would steal out from the hotel and
take solitary rambles among the near by
shops, to the great CONSERVATION of her at
tendants. On one OCCASION, being for some
reason unable TO procure fresh meat for her
pet dog in the hotel, she started impetuously
out in her robe de chambre and slippers for
the nearest butchers and was only induced
TO give up her project at the earnest remon-
STRANGE of Mr.. Jarrett who encountered her
en- route. Yet such whims as these were
harmless ebuilitions of high spirited, ac-
tive woman. She was never guilty of a
single act at which an American social critic
might cavi. Her life was full of hard work
and ordered as well poised, self respecting
woman should be. or the follies and ex-
travagances Of which we bad heard so much
we saw nothing. She was easily satisfied,
generous with her thanks, and her money,
thoughtful for the comforts of others, and
| appreciative of any attention paid to her
wishes and convenience. 1t Is striking COM
ment of her mode of life--for she always
dined in her own room-that newly arrived
gaests at the Albemarle received their first
knowledge of her presence in the house
through the newspapers. She gave the lie
quite unconsciously to the published absurdi-
ties regarding her, and throughout her whole
tour was almost as ignorant as she was
wholly indifferent to the very loudly express