Miriam Balestier_, published in the
November number of BELFORD'S, by far the most artistically beautiful
work from the pen of our author, he by implication attacks an entire
profession that has held through generations not only the admiration
but love of the public. There is absolutely nothing in the vocation of
an actor that either degrades or demoralizes. On the contrary, there
is much to elevate and refine--the work sustained by art found in
painting and music, the thought and feelings of the poets; and while
this is meant to amuse, the stage has been the most potent factor in
not only furthering civilization and culture in the masses, but
awaking in the hearts of the many the loftiest patriotism known to
humanity. It has awakened a deeper feeling for the home, a firmer
trust in the law of right, and a stronger faith in virtue than aught
else of human origin. That taints, stains, and abuses have attached is
no fault of the drama. One could as well attack the bar or the pulpit
because a few unworthy members have disgraced themselves, as to hold
the stage responsible for the recognized evils that have fastened
themselves to a part. That we have senseless burlesques and lascivious
exhibits of nakedness at a majority of our theatres is the fault of
the patrons, not the stage. The manager, like any other dealer in
commercial wares, caters to the taste of his customers, and the stage
is no more responsible for their productions than the street is for
the wretched street-walker.

So long as citizens take their wives and children to witness the
shameless productions, so long will the managers produce them, and
when remonstrated with, shrug their shoulders, and ask, "Well,
what would you?" The pulpit denounces the drama, but leaves untouched
their congregations in their patronage of its abuse. The great city
of New York, for example, lately entertained a convocation of
Protestant clergymen, met to consider the sad fact that they were
preaching to empty churches, and to devise means through which to
awaken the religious conscience of the multitude. They went to
their meetings along streets where every other house was a saloon,
where the beastly American practice of "treating" makes each a door
to ruin; and they passed corners where the walls were aflame with
pictured advertisements of naked legs, bare bosoms, and faces fairly
enamelled with sin. One reads their debates with amazement. Their
clerical minds were troubled with w