ADELAIDE NEILSON'S PRESENTATION.

On May 14, 1877, at the Fifth Avenue Theatre, Miss Neilson played the part for the first time in New York. She was then making a professional tour of the United States, under the management of Max Strakosch. Her chief associates in the cast of "Cymbeline" were Joseph Wheelock, Sr., as Posthumus, John B. Studley as Iachimo, Charles Fisher as Belarius, John Drew as Cloten, Frank Hardenberg as Pisanio, Joseph Haworth as Arviragus, Edmund Collier as Cymbeline, and Mrs. G. H. Gilbert as the Queen. The play was richly dressed. Miss Neilson gave a charming performance of Imogen. She had long

studied the part. Her ideal of it was true, and her execution of it was smooth, graceful, and firm. The features of this actress were not regular, but in the slight irregularity of them there was a peculiar, piquant charm. Her eyes were exceedingly beautiful,-large, dark, luminous, velvety; now brilliant with the fire of passion, now placid and gentle; at all times wonderfully expressive. Her voice was rich in quality, strong, melodious, and sympathetic, and she used it with consummate skill. Her figure was slender, her demeanor was engaging, and equally in her speaking and her acting she was seemingly spontaneous. It was easy for her to look like Imogen and she expressed the

delicate charm of the part in a manner that captivated her audience. Her personality, according absolutely with that of the character, asserted itself with potent allurement. Simplicity, affectionate ardor, impassioned dignity, the resentment of intrinsic virtue wrongly and cruelly accused, a delicious capriciousness, made up of innocence, grace, the desire to please, and the winning condition of being involuntarily engaging, were attributes of that personality, and the performance therefore was one of winning loveliness. Special excellences of her embodiment were the manner of passionate tenderness toward Posthumus, in the First Act; the . extraordinarily vivid though silent impartment of suffering while listening to Iachimo, in her interview with him, followed by the sudden blaze of indignation; the death-like abruptness of her swoon on reading the letter of Posthumus to Pisanio; the wild, despairing cry of agony with which she flung herself on the dead body of the supposed Posthumus, and the frenzy with which she kissed, again and again, the dead hands and senseless clothing of what she took to be her husband, a burst of genuine tragic power. I cannot better summarize this memorable performance than by printing here a few words which I have written about it elsewhere:

Shakespeare could not have been an exception to the natural rule that every author obeys a feeling,

distinct from intellectual purpose, which impels him in the exercise of his art. The feeling that shines through "Cymbeline" is a loving delight in the character of Imogen. The nature of that feeling and the quality of that character, had they been obscure, would have been made clear by Adelaide Neilson's embodiment, which exhibited a temperament neither embittered by hard experience nor vapid with excess of goodness, and a delicious type of seductive womanhood, without one touch of wantonness or guile,—a woman innately good and radiantly lovely, who, amid severest trials, spontaneously acted with the ingenuous grace of childhood, the amplest generosity, the most constant spirit. Miss Neilson, with her uncommon graces of person, found it easy to make the Chamber Scene and the Cave Scene pictorial and charming. Her ingenuous trepidation and her pretty wiles, as Fidèle, in the Cave, were finely harmonious with the character and arose from it like odor from a flower. The innocence, the glee, the feminine desire to please, the pensive grace, the fear, the weakness, and the artless simplicity made up a state of gracious fascination. It was, however, in the revolt against Iachimo's perfidy, in the fall before Pisanio's cruel disclosure, and in the frenzy over the supposed death of Leonatus that the actress put forth electrical power and showed how strong emotion, acting through the imagination,

can transfigure the being and give to love or sorrow a monumental semblance and an everlasting voice. The power was harmonious with the individuality and did not mar its grace. There was a perfect preservation of sustained identity, and this was expressed with such a sweet elocution and such an airy freedom of movement and flexibility of gesture that the observer neglected to notice the method of the mechanism and forgot that he was looking upon a fiction.-If it be the justification of the Stage as an institution of public benefit and social advancement that it elevates humanity by presenting noble ideals of human nature and making them exemplars and guides, that justification was practically accomplished by that beautiful performance.

SUBSEQUENT REPRESENTATIONS.-DAVENPORT.

MODJESKA.-MARLOWE.-MATHER.

Since the time of Adelaide Neilson there have been only five players of Imogen on our Stage,—namely Fanny Davenport, 1879; Helena Modjeska, 1887-'88; and later; Margaret Mather, 1890 and 1897; Julia Marlowe, 1890; and Viola Allen, 1906. Miss Davenport seldom played the part: she was a dashing, rich, voluptuous beauty, full of animal spirits, romp, and mischief, accomplished in a wide range of character,

proficient, in a technical sense, in most, and excellent in some. She was unsuited to Imogen alike in temperament and method: she assumed exceedingly well, however, the semblance of a boy.

Helena Modjeska, a beautiful woman and a great actress, was, perhaps, a little too mature, intellectual and commanding for Imogen, and hence over-weighted the part, but she was an accomplished artist in all that she did, and of this part her embodiment was essentially woman-like and very charming. In person Mme. Modjeska was of medium height, slender and symmetrical. Her demeanor was elegant, her manner distinctly patrician. Her eyes were grey, her features were regular, her countenance, somewhat sad in repose, was capable of great and various expression, at times sparkling with gayety, at times animated with power and fervor of passionate feeling. Her hair was abundant and in hue a lovely brown. The poise of her head was notably fine, and it instantly arrested attention, suggesting the erect, alert carriage of the deer. Looking at her, I often thought of the nobility and refinement of a white marble statue, such as the exquisite Aphrodite of Cnidus. Her voice was singularly sweet and sometimes involuntarily pathetic. In all her acting she evinced high intelligence, delicious refinement, and exceeding sensibility. As Imogen she was most effective in her imperious resentment and