sometimes strikingly beautiful.

"Miss Anderson has the true sense of rhythm and the clearest enunciation;
she has a deep and musical voice, which in moments of pathos thrills with
a sweet and tender inflection. She has seized, in this instance, upon the
touching rather than the harmonious side of Galatea, the pure and innocent
girl who is not fit to live upon this world. She is only not human because
she is superior to human folly; she cannot understand sin because it is so
sweet; she asks to be taught a fault; but the womanly love and devotion,
and unselfishness, are all there, writ in clear and uncompromising
characters. The first and last acts were decidedly the best; in the latter
especially Miss Anderson touched a true pathetic chord, and fairly
elicited the pity and sympathy of the audience. With a gentle wonder and
true dignity she meets the gradual dropping away of her illusion, the
crumbling of her unreasoning faith, the cruel stings when her spiritual
nature is misunderstood, and her actions misinterpreted. She is jarred by
the rough contact of commonplace facts, and ruffled and wounded by the
strange and cynical indifference to her sufferings of the man she loves.
At last when she can bear no more, yet uncomplaining to the last, like a
flower broken on its stem, shrinking and sensitive, she totters out with
one loud cry of woe, the expression of her agony. Miss Anderson is a poet,
she brings everything to the level of her own refined and artistic
sensibility, and the result is that while she presents us with a picture
of ideal womanhood, she must appeal of necessity rather to our
imaginations than to our senses, and may by some persons be considered
cold. Once or twice she dropped her voice so as to became almost
inaudible, and occasionally forced her low tones more than was quite
agreeable; but whether in speech, in gesture, or in delicate suggestive
byplay, her performance is essentially finished. One or two little actions
may be noted, such as the instinctive recoil of alarmed modesty when