Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1886-05-21
FROM PULPIT TO STAGE.
The Famons Ex-Preaeher Min Tells How ii
Came About.
Mars

The Famons Ex-Preacher Min Tells How it
Came About.
Chicago News
was a clergyman. l am an actor. Two
pursuits in single life, which to most
minds seem fairly antipode. For ten
years l lived the life of hard-working.
earnest, and L hope not altogether unsuc-
cessful minister. For three years and
half 1 have been a play-actor. Of my
record in the former calling l have never
been ashamed; in the latter my career is
still before me. During my life in the
pulpit passed through all the different
stages and fulfilled all the functions of
preachers life. l baptized the young,
buried the dead, married the foolish, and
preached a good many wretchedly bad
sermons! | knew what il was to be poor
so poor that Jobs turkey might have
passed me by with the strut of a Wander
bilt or Gould. Later on 1 knew what it
was to have more than | needed-though
not more than L used. During those ten
years in the ministry 1 passed through a
mental evolution, whose genesis was ultra
and enthusiastic orthodoxy, and the ter
minatiOn of which was well defined agnos-
ticism. The curious often ask. '.how /
came to changer" To which my reply has
always been that | grew" Certainly l
had neither intention nor desire to aban-
don the faith of my childhood. But CON
yictiOn is the result of reason. and living
in the nineteenth century. as we do. 1t is
not easy to escape the ''irrepressible con-
fict between the logic of modern phiIos-
ophy ard science and the legacy of me-
dieval theology which fingers in the stand
ards of the church.
At the time l left the pulpit lived
singularly enough-next door to one of
the most genial and whole-souled theat-
rical managers in Chicago Uncle Dick"
Hooley. When 4. lad l played truant
from prayer-meeting upon more than one
occasion to attend his excellent minstrel
performances in the old Brooklyn Thea
ter To him | at first contided my inten-
ton to become an actor. | shall never
| forget the dazed expression which came
! over his face when l, heretical preacher,
announced to him my purpose to enter
| the profession" Had Gabriel proposed
carrying a spear a "supe" in his thea
ter | don't think he would have been
more surprised. But he was very kind,
and advised me we'll; and, more than all
else, he accompanied me on very hot
summers day to an upper room in my
house and quietly endured the infictiOn
of several soliloquies on my part. have
never quite known what he thought about
1t, or whether he thought at all: but l do
know that when [ made my debut as an
actor no one did more to throw a kindly
light upon my initial effort than r. NJ.
| HOOIey.
How to get on the stage in this day of
travelling combinations is question diff
cult to answer. The present system,
vitiating as it is in its effect upon the
stage, does more harm in giving ready
access to the footlights to lot of I'M
trained amateurs than in any other way.
People who can scarcely read intelligently
the English language, who are as innO-
cent of anything like intellectual culture
as the devil is of true religion, who do
not even know good drawing-room man
ners, find their way into the ranks of
profession to-day which demands educa-
ton, refinement, arduous study and wide
experience. Had l desired to go upon
the stage fifteen CT twenty years ago.
when a lad, [ should have commenced by
serving as a 'call boy" or utility man."
Three years and a half ago-such are the
changed conditions of the profession-I
was compelled to commence as a star"
And many others with far less experience
of public life than possessed have jumped
from the sewing machine into the ropes
of Camills, or vaulted from lid or dry
goods box onto the Roman forum. All
my attempts to enter the theater by the
back door were thwarted My name was
in the newspapers-lu and unlucky
fate and | was not allowed to withdraw
myself into Obscurity. What an immense
amount of unintentional misrepresenta-
ton Is done in the course OF the year by
an ordinary newspaper man! During the
interval between my leaving the pulpit
and going on the stage [ was accredited
with more audacious schemes than [ ever
dreamed of. One writer made me the
victim of political aspirations. from
which," l have always devoutly prayed,
Good Lord deliver me- another started
me i'll a saw-mill in Dakota. and still
another placed me in the editorial chair.
The fact was that | stood alone in the
world, my occupation gone, like Othello's
and my life to be disposed of. had left
the pulpit feeling that it was no more
for me. After pausing awhile for reflect
ion | determined to become an actor. but
this was not until | had forever left the
pulpit. 1t was never true that [ left the
pulpit for the stage. / left ii because |
was Il bonatide hereto, and | went upon
lne stage because L wanted TO.
l have always cordially believed that
with a few notable exception, the com
pany by which | was first supported was
what is known on the stage as '.rotten
bad!' And its badness was worse when
uncOncealed by the tinsel of the customer
and the glitter of the footlights. [ never
shall forget those horrible rehearsals al
though | want to. OF course [ was the
M of mn old
actor informed me how it was done
twenty years agO-every young one prac-
tically let me know that |, at least, could
not tell him how it was I'm the good old
days of the stock" But | Iabored pa
tiently and rehearsed thoroughly. and so
prepared myself assiduously for the hOlo-
caust.
Those were trying times to me, though
| have never admitted it till now. Every
tiippant writer in America had his cheap
little fling at me- and | learned anew that
"a prophet is not without honor save
among his own people," and that the
American journalist hesitates to acknowl-
edge that sun in its dawning before which
he prostrates himself at noontide |
learned-what many others have learned
that ambition. coupled with inexperi-
ence, is always laughed at by the thought
less crow, and that he who would con
quer a career must quietly endure the
taunts of the professional jester, the
thrusts of the cynical pessimist-to whom
nothing good Is possible and, worse
than all. the ill-concealed pity of good
natured friends, who perpetually inquire:
Can any good come out of the Nazareth
in which we live!"
GEORGE c. Min.
Iln.. nll1lllrlN-- L III IL.