The evening world. Newspaper, May 10, 1913, Page 9

Sarah Bernhardt Talks Charm, Suffrage, Husbands a: “Americans Do Not Know How to Love—They Need| Lessons—Charm Ie Woman's Greatest Weapon + —That So Many American Women Will Not ‘ Bear Children Ie De-tes-ta-ble.” “Your Women Are Delicious; Your Men Are Not! Their Equale—Here Your Men Are Always To-! gether; Your Women Always Alone—Women, Need the Vote, but They Need Not Be Deputies.”’ t By Nixola Greeley-S mith. “Love is the only justification we, have for Ife, and children are love's laurel and reward.” “If you marry and deprive yourself of the joy of children, when you are fifty and your husband fifty-five what wili you have to love madly—cer- tainly not each other.” “Americans do not know how to love—that is, they do not love enough, and in order to acquire a needed lesson it would be well if American men could take European wives while American women sought vetr mates among the Latin races.” The greatest of living women among the latins—Mme, Sarah Bern-; hardt—supplied me with this unusual and untried formula of happiness a little party of four women sat at luncheon yesterday in her apartment at the Hotel Marte Antoinette. On the’ four sides of the green and gold salon where luncheon was served American beauties stood in rows, in slender vases of cut glass like a regiment at attention. They formed a hollow square about the little table presided over by the woman who, since I first met her seven years ago, has seemed to be the greatest feminine embodiment of personal distinction and Dersonal simplicity 1 have ever met. Except for a toque, made of hellotrope blossoms and tulle, Mme. Bernhardt was all in white, a gown of satin and lace with the high Bernhardt collar and over it a coat of ermine. The other members of the party were Mlle. Seyler and Miss Hornsby, an Englishwoman, who have been the famous actress's companions for many years, At the foot of the table scampering from one to another was Belidor, Mme. Bernhardt’s little Pomeranian, who now and then stood or rose ex-| pectantly on his hind legs and begged so hard that his mistress had to in- terrupt the conversation to say, “Attends, Belidor, attends,” though Bellidor did not want to walt at all. With the light from three windows streaming upon her, I sat beatde | Mme. Bernhardt for nearly two hours, and frankly I cannot understand the | point of view of those who think that she has grown older than she ap-| eeared upon her last visit to the United States. The eyes like translucent jade, the tawny hair, the quick, crooked smile, ‘the tiger growl over every French word which contains an and therefore an excuse for being tigerish, had for me the same familiar but inexhaustible Bernhardt charm. Aud it was charm that we began to discuss with the! omelette—like a proper French luncheon the meal began with an omelette— though when we reached the coffee the talk had shifted to an unusually frank discussion of America and Americans as Bernhardt sees them, T had asked Mme. Bernhardt which she considered the greatest feminine aveapon, beauty, talent or charm. She did not hesitate a moment in her reply. | “Charm immeasurably,” she replied, “both for the theatre and for every- | cay life. If a woman has charm she can create always the illusion of beauty | -—an iNusion go great that beauty seems pale and cold beside it. If she has! charm she:has genius, but unfortunately charm, like genius, is born in us. | We have it or we lack it at three months as at fifty. A little child may have charm. It may be one of many brothers, all nice little children but lacking in the charm which 1s, of course, merely the genius of pleasing.” | When Madame Bernhardt speaks of children a special tenderness comes | into her voice and you are not in the least astonished when she says to you | that the greatest inspiration of her life has been her son. The great Sarah | speaks of her artistic laurels deprecatingly, but when she says, ‘Men fils” the pride of a Cornelia is in her voice. In discussing her love of children Madame Bernhardt said frankly that she could not understand the aversion felt by many American women for child-bearing. “But it is detestable,” she said, “de-tes-ta-ble! An American woman marries, and if she is childless what will she and her husband have to live for—when she is fifty and he fifty-five? What will they be able to love madly—certainly not each other! A child is a constant renewal of tender- ness of youth. It is a very great responsibility, but that feeling of respon- sibility serves to feed and increase one’s tenderness. I was a mother at seventeen and a half and @ grandmother at forty-two, I pity the women who wait till they are twenty-five and thirty to become mothers. Why, they are fifty years old before their children are grown up!” In defense of American women I said that so many of us have lost the answers to the great conundrums of life, Whence came 1? What am I here for? Where am I going? that it {s possible to feel a sense of responsibility which withholds life instead of giving it. “Whence came we? Through love,” Madame Bernhardt answered. “What are we here for? To love. Where are we going? Forward, through our ehfldren. Love is the reason and the justification of life. The good God put us here with that great gift in our hearts. I am sorry for those who do not use it.” + Madame Bernhardt says “le bon Dieu” as simply and reverently as a child might, The phrase represent: concrete an entity to her as Sarah Bernhardt’s does to me. “But you Americans do not love enough,” she added. “Your women are delicious. Your men are not their equals. They make America a paradise for women; they work like slaves for their wives and sweethearts; they make money—more money—and bring it to them; but they do not give their women enough of themselves. Compared with the American woman the Huropean—yes, in France, everywhere, is a slave of man. She is under | the tutelage of her husband. She cannot dispose of her own property with-| | lack of tenderness of the American woman.” , America, d Wives' American man writes a novel he is very apt to complain of the coldness, the | of Lov “The crooked, vividly carmine smile crossed her face like a flarh of sheet lightning as the inexhaustible Sarah answered: “In that case she needs a lesson in loving. The American man should take a European wife, the American woman choose a Latin husband.” “The independence of American women might interfere with the success of your plan,” I suggested. “No,” Madame Bernhardt answered. respect her independence. You understand, I belleve in the independence of women. 1 am for the vote. Women need it. They will get it. But I do not see that they require to be Ministers and Deputies. There {s no doubt in my mind that men are stronger than women. They have a more balanced intelligence because they are not subject to the physical weaknesses of “She could teach her husband to women, which must always be taken into account. We women will always need man’s protection, but they are his equals and he should recugnise it. Here in America you will have no trouble in getting anything you want. Your men have always given it to you. They are just and kind. The Euro- pean, who loves women more, will yet refuse them justice. Perhaps the methods of the militants in England are necessary. I do not know. But I ane ctass do know that women who starve themselves to death for an {dea are not objects of ridicule, They interest me; they touch me very much!" To induce Madame Bernhardt to continue what was to me a very in- teresting comparison of American and European men I suggested that what she regards as the American man’s lack of tenderness has {ts compen- sations in his lack of jealousy. “But why should he be jealous? Of what should he be jealous? Your women are always with other womey. The European is jealous as a tiger, but he knows how to love. And to be loved when one is young, to be loved gloriously, completely, sheds a radiance over all of life; it fills a treasure house of memory; it gives a hoard which one may count over and over in the miser years of age.” The golden voice had dropped to a note of wistfulness. It seemed almost as though before our eyes the ageless Sarah was counting her precious memories. “When Americans are an older nation they will think more highly of love, they will see the duty of having children. To-day your intellectuals, your men and women of ideas, your real aristocracy are letting their race die out. To be replaced, how? By hordes from Italy and Russia. It is not thus that a nation is made. But you will realize it. ’ “As time goes on,” Madame Bernhardt continued, “you will think more of these things and less—much less—of money. You think too much of money. To-day if I am impressed by a personality and I ask ‘Who ts he?’ or ‘Who is she?’ the American answers me, ‘He is worth $15,000,000’ or ‘She ie the wife of a multi-millionaire.’ Now for me that is not an answer at all, I care nothing for what @ person is worth save in his value to his fellow men.” If any one doubts the sincerity of Madame Bernhardt’s declaration, let him heed the fact that in her apartment yesterday every floral tribute sent her by her admirers was equally displayed. For instance, there was a Httle fifty cent bunch of purple sweetpeas in the chimney piece, offered probably by some poor compatriot, which looked proudly down upon the embattled American beauties lined about the walls. There were wild flow- ers aud blossoming shrubs, dogwood lilacs, armsful of country flowers. hobnobbing with ‘orchids. And this great friendly gathering of all the flowers—this little commune of bloom—expressed the spirit of the woman artist to whom they had been offered, “Time will teach you other things,” Maadme Bernhardt continued | emilingly. uu will learn, for instance, not to desecrate your beautiful country with those terrible advertising signs, In cities they are not so bad—a city can make itwelf @ little ridiculous, but coming to New York from Cleveland recently the train passed along your beautiful Hudson. It is marvellous, But those advertisements, They were so many and so horrible that I crled—yes," Madame Bernhardt repeated tragically—'1 Metiatier a while you will learn 100,” renumed the incomparable Sarah when she had dried those retrospective tears over our advertisements, “you will learn that the world contains just two classes of people—its aristoc- | racy, made up of those of ancient blood and including its artists, writers, painters, poets, great engineers, great doctors, and the other class com- | posed of those who buy and sell—the financier, the merchant in other! words, the bourgeoisie.” | “We may learn that in time,” J said, “but f am afraid it-will be a long time. To the average American the man who gets rich making soap, the woman who marries him, are greater persons than the poet or the artist. out his signature. She is in every way his inferior. But she {s loved more (han the American woman, The European has for his wife or his sweet-! jeart a tenderness, a veiuptuousness of which the American knows nothing. He gives her all his leisure, and he would not consider life worth living) with no leisure to give her. Here I see your men always together and your | women always alone.” / ae "Om the other hand, Madame Berabardt,” J interrupted, “when the! Soap, you know, is #0 much more profitable than poetry and ts necded by so many tore persons.” The convet fon was interrupted at this point by the positive insist- ence of Belidor, the Pomeranian that he could not wait another minuw for his luncheon, His mistress did stot yield, but she reached down and petted him, And by the way, you bediamouded American stars, Madame Bernhardt did not wear a solitary jewel yesterday. Save for a very thin, gold band the Orm white band which patted Belidor was ringless. “But you will come to value artists more. ready,” Madame Bernhardt affirmed confidently. THE EVENING WOHLD, SATURDAY, MAY 10, 1913. SHILDREN ARE THE ONLY THINGS You CAN MADLY Love APrER Few INDIFFERENT? MME! SARAN “You have such a lon future, such a great future before you I can imagine no greater happiness than to be born an American woman. You alone among women are free. European woman will reach their highest destiny when they achieve your independence.” “There are those who doubt whether or not independence brings happ!- ness to women,” | said, “Pierre Lott, for instance, when he came to America recently for the production of ‘The Daughter of Heaven,’ said that the Turkish women are the happiest in-the world. He said that women find peace and content only in subjection and seclusion.” At this Madame Bernhardt flashed me another of her lightning smiles, “Loti is my friend,” she said, “but after all what does he know about women? He cares only for the society of men, U “Here and there perbaps there still exist women of the type of the The _Men Fr COUPLE of years ago Admiral A Togo of Japan came to New York, was put over the high hurdles of sightseeing and the low hurdles of Hospitality for aix furious @ays—then took to his bed with a low moan and acknowl ed that Tsus- hima was nothing Mke thi Right now two hardy gentlemen of the Flemish city of Ghent are de ing the same merry-go-roun i wind speed. Both of them ha a deep oath to survive and to ¥ back to Belgium some definite idea of New York and Its et ceteras to pass on to their friends and kindred. They are Dr. C, De Bruyne, Pro- fesseur a la Universite Echeviny de la Ville de Gand, and M, Alphonse van Werveke, Keeper of the Archives of the City of Ghent, or Gand. as the French has it, They came here to rep- resent their city in the conferences now progressing between certa nglish and American gentlemen to provide‘a fitting bration of centenary of pea ween the sepeaking peopl at these conferences because It was| the there, In 18M, that the treaty bringlig to a close the war between England and the United States wag signed. It wax Dr, De Hruyne who, by virtue of his facility at the English—an ac- complishment, by the way, of which he le very proud—took the part of spokes- man for the two when an Evening World reporter visited them in their rooms at the Hotel Plazw. “Kaleldoncopic!” he exph i@ the alngle word to convey impr dons of New York. “Yes, kaleidoscopic and a Mttle pit terrible “Where to begin, where to find an angle of entrance in trying to convey my impressions of your tremendous city I know not, In my anind I have sky scrapers (this I a perfectly good French word), automobiles, policemen, subways, y women, Fifth avenue and Central all jambied together, I cannot sep- one thing from another. € am 4! ed. “That ‘Tremendous or) Ghent demands representation | all that | can grasp inteligently! Here | I must have a man tear off a little I perceive changes al-| Roman slaves that lived only to minister to men and who take a kise and a blow with equal gratitude. But they are not many and they gét fewer dally. The women of the future will be the equals of man in all things, but because of their physical weakness they will not reject his Protection. They will love him more and they will find always, as their grandmothers found, their greatest glory and happiness and inspiration is thelr children, as 1 have found it in my son.” It had grown to be time for Madame Bernhardt to dress for her matinee at the Palace Theatre and it seemed to me an excellent moment to leave her standing among her American Beauties with a prophecy of the future }of women on her lips. As she stood the flowers drooped their heads a little, A soapmaker would have said the heat of the room had bowed their full-blown beauty. But a poet would have known they were dipping a salute to Sarah. As, according to the Bernhardt formula, the world ts peopled mainly by the makers of soap and the makers of poetry, | must leave the explanation to them. om Ghent on New York’s Marvels attp from my ticket and another man eattest {t and another man punch it. How elms ple it is in the New York subway! It is Dracticality * The Doctor from Ghent was asked the Doctor revolved hin hands, one around another, in a suggestive gesture. “You New Yorkers are drunk with movement. motion, force! “Behold—I take my atand in the middie of Fifth avenue—and It is not @ place devoid of danger. On one hand are thundering @utomobdiies; on the other hand, clephantine buses; ‘veneath my feet the subway roars (the good Do stor was @ vit off on his geography here, but allow him poetical license for the sake ot the rhetorical climax) and the ele- vated railroad thunders @ block o vay. What chaos! How must @ forelgner Uke myself be stunned! “Everybody hurries. Novody loiters. Fach rushes at tis business. Why, even the polwemen walk fast. You ere a people of iron nerves tf you can stand this. “Now the subway. In Paris. we have “TI do not like them, they are not Deau- tful,” he answered promptly. “Dowbt- lens they are necessary—are' very ticable—but they are not beautiful {tecturally, They make me dissy, come from « city where the fourth fifth story is the ultimate one. "Your skyscrapers are epikes in the sky!" The Doctor Mked that phrase and repeated it. “But your City Hall, ahimthet ts a beautiful building, I was so a1 and so pleased when | saw it! i | what a difference! | here, Duy a tleket and drop it in of | It 4s finished ; no more trouble. expected some monstrous skyscraper aad found instead this beautiful little bulld- ing nestled in the hands of skyscrapers about it. It 1s more beautiful than our own Hotel de Ville at Ghent & subway; there Is one in London, but 1 go into the subway Ga are Ueir “~