would have been stumbling-blocks to thousands, Mary Anderson made stepping-stones to honor and fame. And America today, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, is justly proud of her gifted daughter.

Her favorite play was "Galatea," and her cold, impassive nature suited the part she was called to present. For the last two years she has been in England, gradually building up a most enviable reputation. She has been the welcome guest at the homes of some of the best people in London, the RightHon. W. E. Gladstone among the rest. For a time she had to fight her way against the critics. But the London people understood her better than the critics. Speaking of these critics and Miss Anderson, a London journalist says:

"I regret to say that those critics for whom I have the highest esteem, and in whose judgment I repose the greatest confidence, have not said one word in praise of her art. In private I have heard some of these critics say the harshest and most uncompromising things in condemnation of her acting. In a little one-act play, written especially for Miss Anderson by W. S. Gilbert, under the title of "Tragedy and Comedy," Miss Mary Anderson made her first distinct success at the Lyceum. 1 was present on her opening night, and I must say that her tragic power in Clarice was a revelation to me. I had greatly admired, and was not wholly unappreciative of, her personal beauty. Her manner of life is modest and self-respecting, and I had been charmed by her successful endeavor to live, in her own home in London, a simple, sweet, and ladylike life. Her acting, heretofore, had seemed to me simply pleasing and not offensive. Her walking, her posing, her elocution, and her bearing, on the stage, were always graceful and artistic. But in Galatea' there was no approach to refined perception, delicate shading, or dramatic power; therefore, when she took the character of Clarice, in Mr. Gilbert's one-act play, I was wholly unprepared for the display of varied and well-shaded understanding of her role which characterized her first night. I must say that the curtain fell before an audience most thoroughly surprised and enthusiastic. Miss Anderson's growth in her art during her first London season was very marked, and, indeed, almost prodigious. When

she came to London she was an immature, unperceiving, dull artiste. In London she found an audience wholly unlike those to which she had heretofore played. Traveling on the road, appearing before different audiences every week, and audiences more or less uncritical, is one thing; appearing before a London audience night after night, and week after week, and month after month-an audience highly trained and perhaps hypercritical-is another thing. Miss Anderson was sensible enough soon to perceive this differenee, and to make the most of it. She studied hard, and achieved very marked growth, and to-day she is further along in her art than she could possibly have been had she remained in her own country and in her old professional habits. Among the London public she has intelligent and enthusiastic admirers, and those who prophesy that she has a very illustrious career before her."

What English people complain of is that Miss Anderson lacks heart. Speaking of her "Juliet," the following criticism is offered by one of her greatest admirers:

"I have read all the dramatic criticisms of her Juliet which have come to hand; she had conversed with me very fully upon her reading of that part, upon her methods of setting the play, and of her high ideal of presenting it. After reading the criticisms of the London journals, I am not in the least surprised that they treat her Juliet with praise that is faint, and, therefore, damning. Miss Anderson lacks heart. And, in her profession, it is all she lacks. She has physical grace, beauty, and charm. She has perception and intelligence and information; but in her art, up to now, she has no abandon, no spontaneity, no heavenly or hellish power. She never permits herself to rise or sink out of herself."

That Miss Anderson has borne up under unfortunate influences everybody knows, and it is to her greater honor that she has borne herself so nobly.

Miss Anderson is soon to return to her native land; when she comes she may fairly calculate on the heartiest and most enthusiastic welcome.

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MISCELLANEOUS &

Men in general, are but great children.-NAPOLEON I.

In order to do great things it is necessary to live as if one was never to die.-VAUVENARGUES.

The world cannot do without great men, but great men are very troublesome to the world.-JOHN WOLFGANG VON GOETHe.

He is a man who knows how to die for his God and his country; his heart, his lips, his arms are faithful unto death.—ERNST ARndt.

GENERAL LEE.

HE most distinguished but not the most skillful of the military leaders of the Confederate forces during the late civil war, was Robert E. Lee. He was born at A Stafford, Westmoreland County, Virginia, on June 19, 1807. He was a son of Colonel Henry Lee of the Revolution, known as "Legion Harry." He became a cadet at West Point in 1825, where he was distinguished for his good behavior, and graduated in 1829, second in his class. During the whole four years of his cadetship he was never reprimanded or received a demerit mark. He entered the corps of engineers, was engaged as assistant engineer, from 1829 until 1834, in the construction of Fortress Monroe. In 1839 he was assistant astronomer in determining the boundary between Ohio and Michigan. In 1838 he was promoted to captain, and when the war with Mexico began, he was appointed chief engineer of the army under General Scott, and was distinguished for important services during the contest. For his gallantry he received successive brevets, the last that of colonel. From 1852 to 1855 he was superintendent of the military academy at West Point. In the latter year he was made Lieutenant-colonel of one of the two new regiments of cavalry, of which Albert Sidney Johnston was colonel, Hardee and Thomas majors, and Van Dorn and Kirby Smith captains. All of these officers excepting George H. Thomas, deserted their flag in 1861, and fought against their country. Through his wife, Mary Custis, a great-granddaughter of Mrs. Washington, and daughter of Washington's adopted son, G. W. P. Custis, he came into possession of the Arlington estate, near the national capital, and the "White House" on the Pamunkey.