“A lack of true interpretation we can never excuse.  We give mediocrity fair common-place words, generally of commendation unaccompanied by censure.  But when we come to deal with a divine inspiration, our words must have their full meaning.

“We do not here want mere commendatory phrases, whose stereotyped faces appear again and again.  We want just appreciation, just censure.  Thus our criticism is not to be considered unkind.  Nay, we not only owe it to the truth and to ourselves in Miss Anderson’s case, to state the existence of faults and crudities in her acting, but we owe it to her, for it is the greatest kindness, and yet we do not speak harshly and are glad to admit that most of her faults—­such for instance as frequently casting up the eyes—­are not only slight in themselves, but enhanced if not caused by the timidity natural on such an occasion.

“But enough of faults.  We know something of the quality of our home actress.  We see with but little further training and experience she will stand among the foremost actresses on the stage.  We are charmed by her beauty and commanding power, and are justified in predicting great future success.”

In the following February Mary Anderson appeared again at Macaulay’s Theater for a week, when she played, with success, Bianca in “Phasio,” studied by the advice of the manager, who thought she had a vocation for heavy tragedy; also Julia in “The Hunchback,” Evadne, and again Juliet.

The reputation of the rising young actress began to spread now beyond the bounds of her Kentucky home, and on the 6th of March, 1876, she commenced a week’s engagement at the Opera House in St. Louis.  Old Ben de Bar, the great Falstaff of his time, was manager of this theater.  He had known all the most eminent American actors, and had been manager for many of the stars; and he was quick to discern the brilliant future which awaited the young actress.  The St. Louis engagement was not altogether successful, though it was brightened by the praises of General Sherman, with whom was formed then a friendship which remains unbroken till to-day.  Indeed, the old veteran can never pass Long Branch in his travels without “stopping off to see Mary.”  Ben de Bar had a theater in New Orleans known as the St. Charles.  It was the Drury Lane of that city, and situated in an unfashionable quarter of the town.  Its benches were reported to be almost deserted and its treasury nearly empty.  But an engagement to appear there for a week was accepted joyfully by Mary Anderson.  She played Evadne at a parting matinee in St. Louis on the Saturday, traveled to New Orleans all through Sunday, arriving there at two o’clock on the Monday afternoon, rushed down to the theater to rehearse with a new company, and that night appeared to a house of only forty-eight dollars!  The students of the Military College formed a large part of the scanty audience, and fired with the beauty and talent of the young actress, they