cannot be redeemed; not novel propositions, though irreproachable, and not propositions of intrinsically authoritative dramatic value.

The story of the play is trite; the language of it is an attenuated tissue of silliness, slang, vulgarity, profanity, and argot. Nell Sanders and Jim Platt,-the one a drudge, the other a vagrant, both denizens of a slum in New York,-are "pals." The man bullies the woman, and the woman, because she loves him, submits to his brutality. There is a germ of goodness in each of them. Nell is affronted in a bar-room and a fight ensues, in which Jim Platt stabs his opponent in the eyes with his fingers, so blinding and horribly injuring him. Jim is arrested. Nell, about to become a mother, is prevented, by a Salvation Army worker, from becoming an inmate of a brothel. Jim is sent to prison for the crime of murderous assault. Nell is spiritually awakened, and she becomes a member of the Salvation Army, -zealous, industrious, and exemplary. She is a mother. Eight years pass. The father of her boy comes out of prison and again seeks her society. Experience in prison has made him a worse ruffian than ever. He purposes to obtain money by stealing it, and he asks Nell to migrate with him-and his plunder-into the West. That she declines to do, and he is repudiated and repelled; but, after much irrelevant twaddle, the regenerating influence of love, which has redeemed the woman, eventually proves potent for the redemption

of the man, and Nell and Jim are united in religious faith and a prospect of domestic happiness.

Mrs. Fiske, whose early success, as an actress, was gained in demure, mischievous, sparkling characters, the piquant sporters of rattling light comedy, has moved through a wide range of parts, and, in particular, she has evinced copious resources of emotional energy. The part of Nell Sanders,-called Salvation Nell after she has joined the Army of Blood and Fire,-obviously makes no demand on the imagination. Mrs. Fiske's performance of it was a photographic study-as such, the best performance of her career. Nell is carried through a series of situations, such as are incident to vulgarity of condition and occupation and to an environment of dirt, blackguardism, vice, and crime. Provision is made (and it is entirely easy, in the concoction of slum dramas, to make that provision) for a few moments of tumultuous feeling, whether of animal rage or religious frenzy, and in all those moments Mrs. Fiske was finely impassioned and effective, her method, then as ever, commingling impetuous volubility with intensity of repressed emotion. It was, however, as a whole, a melancholy exhibition, except to those persons who like to have their minds dragged through the gutter and drenched with the slime of the brothel and, incidentally, observe a brilliant actress making a deplorable misuse of her fine faculties and great opportunity.

IX.

THE SACRED LABORS OF OLGA NETHERSOLE.

"SAPHO" AND "THE LABYRINTH."

IN the absence of positive knowledge to the contrary, or of conclusive testimony, the "imputation and strong circumstances which lead directly to the door of truth," -it seems fair to assume, regarding purveyors of theatrical punk, that, however mischievous their ministrations may be, their motives are honest. Mrs. Lander, who introduced "Camille" to our Stage, was one of the best of women, and her purpose, beyond a shadow of doubt, was beneficent. It is, perhaps, just to believe the same concerning Miss Olga Nethersole, but it is difficult, almost to the extent of impossibility. At times the attitude of that performer has been such as to prompt belief of a desire to identify herself, exclusively, with characters of degeneracy and plays of morbid delirium, because her repertory has been, in some respects, one as pernicious as could have been devised, even with deliberate purpose to corrupt the public mind. Miss Nethersole made her first appearance on the American Stage, at Palmer's Theatre, on October 15, 1894, in Mr. A. W. Gattie's "The Transgressor," and

she has ever since devoted herself largely to theatrical parade of transgressors, erring sisters, and episodes of vice. The principal decent plays of her repertory are "Romeo and Juliet," "Adrienne Lecouvreur," and "The Termagant." She has been conspicuously identified with "Camille," "Frou-Frou," "Carmen," "The Second Mrs. Tanqueray," "The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith," "Magda," "The Labyrinth," and "The Enigma." The public, subjected to that flux of offensive plays, might well exclaim, with old Lear: "Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination!" Representative personations by Miss Nethersole were those of the trollop called Sapho, in a play of that name, and Marianne, in "The Labyrinth," by M. Paul . Hervieu.

Much benevolent theatrical industry has been enlisted in the dissemination of "views" and "precepts" as to control of animal propensities and as to conduct of the amatory affairs of mankind, and many estimable dames, together with some who were more notorious than estimable, have made devout efforts in that sacred cause, largely to the edification of a grateful public and much to the emolument of those moral missionaries. In England and America the refulgent Mrs. "Pat" Campbell and the illustrious Mrs. Kendal have shown the piteous woes and the corrosive virtues of the torrid Mrs. Tanqueray, from whose seductive personality lessons of rectitude radiate like the spokes of a wheel.

Mrs. Leslie Carter, formerly of Chicago, has perfumed the Theatre with the pious patchouly of Zaza. The revered Mme. Bernhardt has diffused general information as to the blandishments of Izeyl and the result of their exercise. The all-fascinating Duse, assuming the everlasting French courtesan with the interminable cough, has broken the public heart and "drowned the stage with tears." Others, too numerous to mention, have wrought in the same vineyard of eleemosynary labor, and with like results, and it is not the fault of the Theatre if Society has not become fully and finally convinced that there is no difference between virtue and vice; that woman ought, naturally, to become licentious for the reason that men are naturally depraved; that strumpet and saint are interchangeable terms; that, with the exception of leather, there is nothing like "love," and that the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

On February 5, 1900, at Wallack's Theatre, New York, Miss Nethersole made a new and more than usually strenuous effort in the holy work of moral illumination, imparting unto the young men of this period the salutary monition that the society of drabs ought to be avoided, and that the path of sensual vice is a downward path, leading, through torment, to the gates of hell. The novelty of that impartment was not likely to startle any male person who had ever attended a Sunday School or made even a passing acquaintance with the Book of Proverbs; but for observers