Year: 1876

The lecture field lost little and the stage
gained nothing by Miss Anna Dickinson's debut
in Bosten last week. It was hera!dsd by the
bran-bread dilet:ana of that dyspeptic city
that she would wear diamonds; that she had
written her own play in two weeks; that her
clothes would cest $1,000, ard that the
daring dc6aants occupied the suite of apart
ments at Boston hotel that were once used
by Fanny Kemble, Edwin Booth, Duke Alexis
and Dom Pedro. That was very gratifying In
a social way, but 1t will no more make her
act than the fact that he now occupies the
rooms left vacant at the aristocratic Arlington
by Dom Pedro makes the Hon. Thomas
Creamer q scion of the house of Braganza.
Miss Dickinson made the dramatic failure
every one who knew anything about the stage
must have predicted for her. Her venture, to
speak frankly, was a foolish and an impudent
one. She had no reason whatever to expect
success, or to assume that for her alone q
royal road to the summit of the theatrical
profession had been laid. Her career as
lecturer gave no promise, even in the blush of
her youth, of success as an actress. She had
not the gifts of vocal expression, dramatic
conception or emotional power which would
warrant her in thinking that at thirty-fve she
could take an easy jump from the plat
form and land on the stage along side the
women who have given a life's study to a
difficult art.


Miss Dickinson's failure is not one to be
lamented. She did not deserve success, and
therefore she has missed it. It is well that
selEconfidence has discovered that 1t cannot
take the place of studious labor and long and
patient training. In all departments of art
there is no substitute for elementary instruc-
ton. Not even genius can get along without
that; and Miss Dickinson's efforts on the plat
form showed that she lacked genius. She had
power of intense utterance, but no idea of
artistic effect. 1t was indeed painful to listen
to her high pitched, strained, little flexible
voice as she declaimed, or, rather, scolded.
Her rash attempt to start at once as a great
tragic actress without training, and as a mas
ter playwright without practice or careful cul-
tivation, was an implied rebuke to the dra-
matte profession, slowly climbing to the
heights of histrionic excellence and to dra-
matte authorship, in which experience has
taught that with ordinary persons only years
of effort can attain to success. There was no
reason to anticipate for Miss Dickinson a re-
suit short of q stinging blow to her arrogant
self-confdence. If she had met with any
thing else she would have been a dramatic
phenomenon, which she evidently thought her
self to be, and in which foolish idea indiscreet
friends seem to have encouraged her. We
trust that her failure will teach mel and
women who fancy they can become dramatic
artists of the highest class-such as Charlotte
CushmaD, Rose Eytinge and Edwin Booth
simply by putting on stage clothes and ap-
pearing before the footlights, that grand act
ing can no more be done under the spur of
vanity, without long practice Of its details,
than the girl who paints a pretty flower on a
screen can produce at call a RaphePs "Ma-
DONNA" or nimble player of little waltzes
can compete with Listz or Won Bulow in the
execution Of a grand sonata.