Another gifted actor whose fate ran counter to a hoped for New York popularity was Frank Mayo. Many who recall only his romantic Davy Crockett would be surprised to know that he gave a remarkably good performance of Hamlet. In the evening of his career came a recompense, and the later generation will remember Mayo as Puddin' Head Wilson in the play made from Mark Twain's story.

For the old New Yorker whose playgoing days extend back over the years there are memories, since the days of Burton and the Placides, of the Wallacks, Brougham, John Gilbert, Billy Florence, John Raymond, Mrs. Hoey, Laura Keene, Agnes Ethel, Mrs. Gilbert, Ada Rehan-but why enumerate? One could go on for many pages in the mere transcription of their names, and I am not trying to form a catalogue or historical dramatic directory.

I could not do so if I would, for I am writing at long range in a practically foreign country, far from books of reference. I am merely endeavoring to give some form to an impression of the art of the American theater as I have seen it and participated in it, heard of it through veterans of the craft, or as I have gathered it from the records.

Mary Anderson's name dwells pleasantly in the recollection of many who cherish their experiences of the theater. This Kentucky girl whose meteoric success was the source of inspiration to hundreds of her youthful countrywomen, sprang almost full armed into her equipment for the performance of the Shakespearean heroines. Her following was immediate and enthusiastic and confounded the judgment of the sages who had always pointed out that there was no royal road to success upon the stage. But there was. Mary Anderson found it unaided by any adventitious means. It was a sheer tour de force; the triumph of personality. By her magnetism and her beauty of person and voice she disarmed criticism. Many there were who said she had no art, that she was a mere schoolgirl frollicking through her performances, and perhaps they were right. But Our Mary she became, that was enough for the thousands who believed her great. Her success was regarded jealously by the many talented women who had contested inch by inch for the places they had attained.

There was a psychology in it all that defied analysis. One real artistic achievement she did gain unquestioned. Her acting in the two parts of Hermione and Perdita in The Winter's Tale bore the stamp of truth, was genius; and with this one uncontested triumph she retired from the stage. Does she merit a place among the really great ones of the American stage? Perhaps. Perhaps. I confess I do not know.

It is not the writer's purpose to attempt any detailed statement of the status of the 20th century stage, or to particularize the doings of its prominent actors, producers and dramatists. Its history is too recent, too well known.

The theater of to-day has become a huge factor in the life of the American public.

I have given a hint of the beginnings of the art as it has been shown on the native stage. From the crudity of its early environment it has grown from sporadic and individual endeavor to the dignity of a definite profession. Its purpose has become crystallized and its character established. The business side of its necessities has caused the most astonishing changes to take place in the conduct of playhouses, and a new class of men has been called into being. These men are of the executive class, men whose relation to dramatic art corresponds to that of the art dealer toward the painter. Many and loud have been the protests of writers and players against the invasion of the business man in the field of art. Commercialism is the shibboleth of the protesting class who have seen in the rise of the monied speculator a menace to individualism and freedom of artistic expression. Without doubt the change has brought about some undesirable conditions, but the commercial manager has become a vital necessity. The growth of the mere business side of the theater has been so great within the past twenty years that without skilled executors in the conduct of its affairs all would have been thrown into confusion. Within this time the number of playhouses in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago and all the larger cities has more than doubled. They have sprung up in the rapidly growing towns of the second class until there is scarcely a community in the length and breadth of the land that hasn't its theater where frequent dramatic performances are given.

Who, then, could conduct the affairs of these many playhouses, and who could supply the necessary performances? The actor? He has far too great a responsibility in the developing and conserving of his own art to take on cares of a purely commercial nature. Hence the raison d'etre of the business man and the monied investor. He has practically taken the place of the royal patron of the English theater and supplied the subsidy of the European capitals.

One cannot deny that the theater has improved with its growth as an institution, though whether this growth has been obtained through the interest of the commercial class or in spite of it, it is difficult to decide. Excellence in acting has kept pace with this increasing importance-that is, general excellence. The profession of the stage has called to his aid many talented playwrights, for the constant demand for new material has caused playmaking to become more of a skilled craft. The stage director, too, has become a greater necessity. Plays are no longer hurried into production with scanty rehearsal and preparation. The public will no longer tolerate hastily or inadequately presented plays; it demands the highest perfection. If this is lacking the play fails, and the speculative manager is too wise and has too much at stake to take any chances.

The growth of illusion has been made possible through the increasing power of the scene painters and the perfecting of new appliances for lighting and mechanical stage effect. All this has had a beneficial influence on the actor. In the matter of constant, skillfully directed rehearsals alone he has been immeasurably the gainer. He is no longer permitted to trust to his inspiration or the unaided strength of his personality. Fine points of characterization are gone over by the director and sufficient time allowed for the full conception of the player to mature. The constant friction of repetition and the labor of adjustment of purpose and character cause the subtleties of the scene to become apparent. The author is more a factor in these preparations than formerly he was. As he can now make a profession of playwriting, not being compelled to combine it with other literary labors for a livelihood, he can give more attention to the explanation of his

motives to the playing company. Thus the actor, the producer and the public are the gainers. An atmosphere of art is created that makes for higher results and increased perfection in the presented play.

For this practical widening of our artistic vision we are in a measure indebted to the visits of Henry Irving to this country. The smoothness of the presentations which were made known to us by him came in the nature of a revelation. His productions set a standard. He showed us the benefits to be derived from the exercise of painstaking care in preparation. Our producers have not been slow in adopting the suggestions thus obtained.

In the latest phases of its development the art of acting in America has shown great advancement in truth, simplicity, and artistic proportion. The standard is higher, and there is no such discrepancy between the leaders and the rank and file workers as one always expected to find in the theater of its younger days.

THE INFLUENCE OF MUSIC UPON

NATIONAL LIFE.

BY ARNOLD J. GANTVOORT.

[Arnold J. Gantvoort, educator; is prominent in the movement for the spread of musical education among the masses in the effort to improve their condition by awakening higher ideals; he is manager of the College of Music, Cincinnati, whose requirements for graduation are higher than those of any other in America. Prof. Gantvoort has delivered several addresses in the support of his ideas both to educators and to the general public.]

When Louis XIV. asked his prime minister, Colbert, how it was that so great and popular a nation as France was unable to subdue or conquer a little country like Holland, the prime minister answered: "Sire, the greatness of a nation does not depend upon the extent of its territory, but rather upon the character of its citizens."

Luther, in summing up the elements of national greatness, said:

"The life and character of a nation do not depend upon the abundance of its revenues, the strength of its fortifications, the size of its army, the beauty of its buildings; but on the number of its cultivated citizens; its men of education, enlightenment, and character. In them lie its chief strength, true greatness, and real power."

An English poet wrote:

What constitutes a state?

Not high raised battlement or labored mound,
Thick wall or moated gate,

Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned,
Not bays and broad armed ports.

No: men, high minded men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endued
In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude.
Men who their duties know,

But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain,
These constitute a state.