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7|ie Theatre 
 
 AS A 
 
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'^e THEATRE 
 AS A POWER 
 
 An Address Given By 
 
 William Faversham 
 
 IN THE 
 
 Chicago University Extension Course 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Lectures on the Drama 
 
 THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1911, CHICAGO, ILL. 
 
■Ir, 7) J9r/^^^ 
 
 
 H. S. Collins Printing Company 
 Saint Louis 
 
THE THEATRE AS A POWER 
 
 An Address Given By 
 
 WILLIAM FAVERSHAM 
 
 In being asked to come before you, I realize the honour is 
 paid me, because of my association for so many years of my 
 life with the theatre. 
 
 I must tell you that I began my work in the theatre, or I 
 shall say, study of the theatre, as a boy. No one can give 
 so many years to a cause, without feeling that, of that subject 
 he is capable of seeing something of the vital truths belonging 
 to it ; consequently, it is of the theatre that I shall speak to you. 
 The business of my life has been the theatre; but there is 
 always the dream, as well as the BUSINESS, and it is the 
 DREAM that has made it interesting. 
 
 Only a few years ago when I stood on the stage and the 
 curtain went down on that beautiful poetic tragedy of Stephen 
 Phillips' "Herod," which I had launched — one of my great 
 dreams — had come true. 
 
 I feel quite frank in saying that I owe everything to the 
 theatre. To Irving, the prophet of our art, and to the Lyceum 
 Theatre, London, that one-time Mecca of the artistic dramatic 
 world — that shrine of England's greatest achievement in the 
 theatre — I owe my artistic life. 
 
 I had an elder sister whose belief it was that boys, from 
 ten years on, should see everything that was good, and worthy, 
 and well done in the theatre; consequently, between the ages 
 of ten and seventeen, I was taken to the Lyceum Theatre on 
 an average of three times a week, where I was able to see 
 Henry Irving and Ellen Terry in Irving's masterly produc- 
 tions of Shakespeare. In this theatre I was afterwards able 
 to watch many rehearsals. In the other London theatres I 
 saw much of the work that was done by Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, Charles Coghlan, John Hare, Wilson 
 Barrett, and the great actor, Edwin Booth. I even saw Barry 
 
 432347 
 
Sullivan and Dion Boucicault; also Rossi, the great Italian 
 actor, who did one of the most remarkable pieces of work as 
 Romeo — whose imagination so illuminated and glorified his 
 characterization that you forgot he was a short, stout man. 
 Years afterwards, I was able to see the wonderful work of our 
 present great actor, Forbes Robertson. 
 
 The conditions of my life made it so that instead of being 
 sent away to school for any great length of time, I lived at 
 home, the only boy amongst a number of women. I think 
 the average person would have thought that I was very badly 
 brought up, but I saw between the ages of ten and seventeen, 
 all the best that England could give in the way of the theatre. 
 At the age of seventeen I ran away to become an actor and, 
 humorously, it seems to me now, my family was much amazed 
 that I should do so! 
 
 I don't know whether you in America know about what 
 they call "fit-ups" in England, but when I disappeared to join 
 a troupe of players, it was in one of these "fit-up" companies. 
 I often slept in a bath-house, because generally at the sea side 
 places where we played, we could not find rooms within our 
 means; but I had compensation for all physical discomforts, 
 for I played a great many of the leading classic roles, including 
 Hamlet, which I did on Saturday nights. A friend has since 
 said that the management wisely arranged that so that the 
 people could recover over Sunday ! ! ! 
 
 And it wasn't a bad life. We were studying and working 
 at Shakespeare, Scott, Lytton, Dickens, and the other classics, 
 not to mention all of Ouida's romantic books that were pos- 
 sible of dramatization. I remember that during the first three 
 or four months I was on the stage, I created the role of "Lord 
 Berti Cecil" in Ouida's "Under Two Flags," and was arrested 
 with the manager of the company for daring to dramatize, 
 or play in a dramatization of Ouida's most popular novel 
 without the publisher's consent, and paying the publisher's 
 royalty. I remember very well when I was taken up before 
 the authorities, and one of them asked me what was my 
 "business" or "calling." I very proudly told them "I was an 
 actor." It was, indeed, a world of romance and dreams, but 
 high ambitions. 
 
 It seems to me no institution has had so varied and so 
 curious a career as the theatre. Take it from the time when the 
 old religious plays were done by the priests, and of which such 
 
an excellent description exists of a fifteenth century mystery 
 play in Charles Reade's "The Cloister and the Hearth," when 
 young Gerard, the hero, sees his first play. I quote the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 "From another group he learned there was a mystery being 
 played under canvas hard by, and all the world gone to see it. 
 This revived his hopes, and he went and saw the mystery. 
 In this representative, divine personages, too sacred for me 
 to name here, came clumsily down from heaven to talk soph- 
 istry with the cardinal virtues, and nine muses, and the seven 
 deadly sins, all present in human shape, and not unlike one 
 another. To enliven which weary stuff, in waddled the prince 
 of the power of the air, and an imp that kept molesting him 
 and buffeting him with a bladder, at each twack of which the 
 crowd were in ecstacies ! ! ! When the vices had uttered good 
 store of obscenity, and the virtues, twaddle the Celestials, 
 including the nine muses, went gingerly back to heaven one 
 by one ; for there was but one cloud, and two artisans worked 
 it up with its supernatural freight, and worked it down with 
 a winch, in full sight of the audience. These disposed of, the 
 bottomless pit opened, and flamed in the center of the stage; 
 the carpenters and virtues shoved the vices in, and the virtues 
 and Beelzebub and his tormentor danced merrily round the 
 place of eternal torture to the fife and tabor. 
 
 "This entertainment was writ by the Bishop of Ghent, 
 for the diffusion of religious sentiment hy the aid of the senses 
 and was an average specimen of theatrical exhibitions so long 
 as they were in the hands of the clergy." But as Charles 
 Reade goes on to say, "in course of time, the laity conducted 
 plays, and so the theatre, I learn from the pulpit, has become 
 profane." 
 
 Of course, I might use this story of Charles Reade's in 
 retaliation, or answer, to that recent gentleman of the church, 
 who claimed that the theatre meant nothing but evil, and 
 could see nothing of value in it. This clergyman proceeded 
 to say that out of the productions in New York last year, 
 there were five plays that the critics said were not fit for the 
 public to witness. When you consider that there are over sev- 
 enty theatres in and around that city, the many hundreds of 
 productions that go in them during the year, all that fell under 
 his ban were five. This seems to me to speak well for the 
 drama of the present moment but, and this to me is the most 
 
important matter, the sooner we get rid of those five, the 
 better. 
 
 The point is, you must not allow those five evil trees to 
 grow any branches. 
 
 Perhaps it would be well to determine how far I feel the 
 theatre exists as an influence in the life of a country. I rank 
 it high, very high. It is as great as the pulpit, if not greateri 
 This is demonstrated by the fact that our very buildings are 
 sought by the clergy to deliver their lectures, sermons, talks, 
 call them what you will. We have a medium which is more 
 appealing to the people. Ninety-five per cent of the people 
 remember what they see and hear — five per cent, what they 
 read. This is a scientific fact. Of course, that doesn't mean 
 that the former brain is any less capable than the latter, which 
 retains what it reads. One explanation of this is the fact that 
 the people in our modern, workaday world tire their brains 
 out during their working hours and, therefore, enjoy their 
 problems, or their sermons, or whatever they feel inclined to 
 receive, from the stage of the theatre, because it is visualized 
 for them through their eyes. Personally, I think that it is a 
 special gift to be able to remember what one reads; that is 
 born in people, like the color of their eyes or their hair, or a 
 great singing voice. It is a rare gift, and very few people are 
 blessed with it. Do not most of our great lecturers take a hint 
 from the theatre, and use the coloured pictures to illuminate 
 their lectures? In London, Canon Carlisle of St. Paul's, used 
 coloured pictures and a brass band in his services, to attract 
 the poor. 
 
 The theatre could be the greatest educational factor in 
 the world — sometimes it is. We may not be able to learn 
 in it, that two and two make four ; we may not be able to learn 
 mathematics, chemistry, and a few of the other sciences, but 
 we can learn history, geography, music, painting, costuming, 
 proper speech, and deportment: for the actor who takes his 
 calling seriously and realizes the responsibilities and duties 
 that are his, has to gain a knowledge of all these departments 
 of which I have just spoken. 
 
 In no profession are so many beneficial educative forces 
 employed as is in the theatre. We bring to you the best of lit- 
 erature, the best of music to support our literature. We em- 
 ploy scenic artists who can visualize and stir the imagination 
 \as ably as a masterpiece in a gallery, and we also give life 
 
 X 
 
and illumination to work that would never reach the masses 
 but for the art of acting. That is, we do all this when we do 
 it worthily, and it is being done worthily, day in and day out, 
 by splendid bands of men and women who go from one end 
 of the United States and Canada, to the other, many who 
 work for more than money, believe me. I could tell of so many 
 instances where men and women have been tempted to do 
 inferior work for which they would have been paid very highly, 
 but which they have refused, in order to do the finer, nobler 
 things of the theatre. In no case was there a better exempli- 
 fication of this than in the late Sir Henry Irving, who died a 
 poor man, to give all that is best that the theatre has had in 
 our generation. Also, that great and wonderful actor, Edwin 
 Booth, who lost a million and a quarter dollars, which he had 
 worked hard for, in trying to do the finest things for the theatre 
 and our profession generally. No minister in his pulpit, no 
 novelist in his book, ever swayed the great populace for good, 
 more than did an Irving, a Booth, or a Modjeska. 
 
 And so my plea is, think of the theatre as an educative 
 force. And now I must explain that I do not ask you only to 
 approve, or think of the theatre as patronizing plays that are 
 serious-minded. I have always claimed that one must give 
 the great masses of people an entertainment, and then "tag" 
 on all the art that you can, and if we do this we find that we will 
 grow artistically, both those behind and those before the foot- 
 lights. No one is a greater lover of comedy, musical comedy, 
 and a really fine music hall, than I am; but I think some of 
 the cheap bids for sensation by exhibitions of moral and phy- 
 sical depravity that are growing throughout the United States 
 must have some strong organization make a movement to stop 
 it. Even the best of musical comedy, and the lighter form of 
 entertainment, must be taken in moderation by an intelligent 
 public. 
 
 Ginger-bread is all very well, but too much ginger-bread 
 is bad for the mental digestion. 
 
 And here, I think I might say that your Drama League 
 is a fine step in this direction, for it will do more to stop these 
 bids for sensation, and these exhibitions of moral, mental, and 
 physical depravity that are going on in the theatre, than is 
 being generally realized now. I think the Drama League can, 
 in time, become the "prime minister" of the theatre-going 
 public in America. 
 
However, I feel extremely optimistic that all that is for 
 the best in the theatre is coming about. The last ten years 
 have worked wonders on the American stage, by bringing 
 to us a fine class of men as plajrwrights. 
 
 The curriculum of our best colleges now includes the 
 literature of the theatre in its course. Men like Prof. Baker, 
 of Harvard, and Prof. Phelps, of Yale, are heart smd soul in 
 the movement of education through the drama, and the best 
 works of our modern dramatists are being studied with the 
 best of the classics. 
 
 Behind the footlights the same progress has been made. 
 Each year I notice a higher standard of young men and young 
 women coming into our profession in all departments. This 
 is cause to be grateful, as it is impossible for a young man or 
 young woman to arrive at any large position in the theatre, 
 who does not come to us already prepared, or who is not will- 
 ing to ground himself, or herself, well in an educational way. 
 On one point we have great difficulty, and in this I feel that 
 we can claim the theatre as a great educative force: and that 
 is good speech. You know, there seems to be a very curious 
 resentment, even amongst very well-bred people, when it comes 
 to correction of speech. This applies to both sides of the water. 
 The Englishman who enters our profession with his "heah," 
 "theah" and "deah," is just as bad as the American with his 
 "tub" and "yuh." They are both affectations, and they are 
 impossible in the theatre. There is much too much slang 
 spoken, much too much lax pronunciation, and too little 
 thought of diction in the private life. Amongst the young 
 people, they seem to think that speaking pure English is an 
 affectation, while really the dreadful dialect that one hears so 
 often amongst even the better classes, is an affectation, as 
 it surely does not belong to the minds and the culture of those 
 men and women. Not only few private schools, but few dra- 
 matic schools seem capable of coping with this. 
 
 The best school to enable beginners on the stage to over- 
 come this is in a good company under a leader" Who really pays 
 attention to the English that is used, and for the younger 
 people surely no better example can be given them than to be 
 taken to hear a company of men and women who are giving 
 some thought to the beauties of their language. I was taken, 
 as a boy, to the theatre often three times a week to listen to 
 the pure speech and diction of some prominent actor or 
 actress who might be playing at the time. 
 
To me, the glory of our language is the purity of its 
 speech, its beauty of diction, and I feel today that a great deal 
 of this is being lost by our younger generation here in America 
 and Canada. So many of the young people I meet, either soci- 
 ally, or who come to me to work, are lax in this matter to a 
 point that is almost criminal. Some three years ago a very 
 clever young actor came to see me about an engagement. I 
 wanted to engage him because I knew that he had fine qualities 
 in him for the theatre. During the first few moments of 
 our conversation, he told me that he didn't want "tuh" 
 play "heavy parts," and he wanted "seventy-fi" dollars a 
 week, "an' " was willing to take less in "Noo Yuk." Of course, 
 I wondered what would happen at rehearsals if I started to ask 
 him to correct these mistakes ; however, I "took a chance" and 
 engaged him. It took nearly one season — he used to blush, and 
 get very embarrassed — and once told me that he was afraid 
 people would think he was effeminate!!! But he finally con- 
 quered it, and I don't think there is today upon the stage a man 
 who speaks better English, and who has a finer voice than this 
 same young actor. He is going ahead, as I knew he would. 
 
 Without beauty of speech, no great work can be accom- 
 plished by the actor, especially in the interpretation of the 
 classic roles. The reason why we have so little authoritative 
 interpretation of the classic and poetic work now is extremely 
 simple. The young actors cannot speak it — they cannot manip- 
 ulate the words — they cannot manoeuver the lines. Let me 
 explain an elemental matter with an elemental illustration. A 
 very great woman in our profession, Carlotta Le Clercq, gave 
 me the following poem as an exercise. 
 
 An Austrian army, awfully arrayed, 
 Boldly by battery, beseiged Belgrade. 
 Cossack commanders, cannonading come, r^" 
 
 Dealing destruction, devastating doom. \\ 
 
 Every endeavor, engineers essay, 
 For fame, for fortune, fighting furious fray. 
 General 'gainst general grappled, grasping good ; 
 How honours Heaven, heroic hardihood!! 
 and so on. 
 
 We used to have to say it very, very slowly, until gradu- 
 ally in the course of a week or so, we were allowed to run it 
 off as fast as we could. The exercise, of course, you all know, 
 
but I have just repeated the first few lines so you will under- 
 stand what I mean by this example. 
 
 Another study which is so necessary, is the study of vocal 
 culture, and people entering our profession today seem to have 
 forgotten that it exists at all — that it is absolutely a necessity. 
 When I was rescued by my parents from my rovings with 
 the "fit-up" company, I was placed in the school of Carlotta 
 Leclerco's. She was then a power in England — consulted by 
 Irving and many other prominent managers in London, during 
 their rehearsals of big productions. She used to steal me into 
 rehearsals with her, and hide me at the back of the stalls, 
 and once I asked her why Miss Terry spoke so slowly and 
 pedantically at the rehearsals, and she said to me, "She is 
 getting her voice placed, and is SPACING." She said this was 
 Miss Terry's method, and was a very wonderful one, and that 
 if I would study her, and work as she did, that in years I might 
 be able to speak like her. The line that Miss Terry spoke 
 which seemed to me so strangely read, was when Faust offers 
 to see her home, and I noticed on the "first night" how beau- 
 tifully she said it, and then I realized why she spoke the way 
 she did at rehearsals, when she said to Faust ; "I-am-not-Lady ; 
 neither-am-I-fair ; home-I-can-go-without-your-care." 
 
 When someone says, "how blithely, how joyously Mr. 
 So-and-So does this or that," just you remember that without 
 his having given much careful thought to the rudiments of his 
 art, he could have done nothing. 
 
 It may amuse you to think that the Belgrade poem may 
 help a man to illuminate the soliloquy of Hamlet's, but it is 
 a fact. 
 
 What we want are important training schools all over 
 America. I realize the difficulties that are necessary to be 
 fought with in this country, because of the number of great 
 cities, each one of which ought to have its own school, with an 
 important board of directors; and the best of the theatrical 
 profession ought to help in this effort. It seems to me the 
 ideal institution is the Gower Street School, in London, which 
 is doing very excellent work. It is under the direction of Sir 
 Arthur W. Pinero, Sir John Hare, Sir George Alexander, and 
 the Bancrofts. Not only well-trained men and women of the 
 theatre, but some of London's most prominent actors and 
 actresses are employed regularly to teach in this school. The 
 busiest and most important men and women are its directors, 
 and yet they find time to give many hours to the hearing and 
 
discovering of the young people's talents, and in every way to 
 help encourage and stimulate them. Sir Arthur Pinero, who 
 is the greatest English-speaking playwright, has talked to me 
 on the subject, and I was enormously impressed by the earnest- 
 ness and unselfishness of Sir Arthur's and his co-workers' 
 efforts, for not only do they carefully attend the examinations 
 and rehearsals of these young people, to judge of their merits, 
 but, it seems to me, with the very greatest care they select the 
 teachers who are to be in charge of the place in its various 
 branches. And today that school is supplying the English 
 stage with some very fine material. One or two of the best 
 pupils who graduated three or four years ago, have already 
 attained great prominence on the English stage and, judging 
 from those I, personally, have seen, I should think they would 
 attain great heights. 
 
 How we in America can project such an enterprise as the 
 Gower Street School has greatly interested me. The diffi- 
 culties of traveling in the actor's life here almost prohibit it, 
 and yet I feel that in New York and Chicago, while I know 
 that many schools do exist, perhaps a more representative one 
 may be attained some time, modeled after the Gower Street 
 enterprise. 
 
 Of course, every actor believes that some one power which 
 he gives through his work, is the most helpful. It is purely an 
 individual belief. The force that appeals to me is imagination. 
 I have just read what Arnold Bennett says in a recent publi- 
 cation : 
 
 "There is a word, a 'name of fear', which rouses terror in 
 the heart of the vast educated majority of the English-speak- 
 ing race. The most valiant will fly at the mere utterance of 
 that word. The most broad-minded will put their backs up 
 against it. The most rash will not dare to affront it. I myself 
 have seen it empty buildings that had been full, and I know 
 that it will scatter a crowd more quickly than a hose-pipe, 
 hornets, or the rumor of plague. Even to murmur it is to 
 incur solitude, probably disdain, and possibly starvation, as 
 historical examples show. And that word is 'Poetry.' " 
 
 In these words of Arnold Bennett's lies a great condemna- 
 tion, if it be a truth. 
 
 For the genius of the theatre is imagination, and through 
 poetry we get imagination at its highest. 
 
;f The dream of the theatre is to encourage the reverence for 
 
 I the imagination, to give it to the people, to develop theirs. I 
 I claim it is the highest form in any art. It is the essence of all 
 
 great creation, and without it, we become dolts and savages. 
 ! Imagination, imagination, and AGAIN imagination ! This 
 
 / is, and should be, the war cry of the theatre. We must have 
 a worthy stage, a worthy public, otherwise the great works of 
 imagination and beauty will die. We must give it to the 
 people. We must make the people feel that they want it, for 
 it is the clarion tongue that proclaims truth, beauty, art. 
 
 In Germany particularly, the acceptance of great imagin- 
 ative works is far greater than in other countries. They seem 
 to have a more highly trained audience — people who have 
 come prepared by a century of development — artistically, in 
 music, literature, and poetry. Perhaps the most significant 
 fact that proclaims this truth is that in the most imaginative 
 of all plays — Hamlet — the Germans so lend themselves to this 
 force that they will accept the play without the Ghost in the 
 flesh, but simply expressed with an eerie light, and the voice of 
 the ghost being heard, showing that the unseen visitor is but 
 a creation of the distorted mind of Hamlet. 
 
 I appreciate all the modern, realistic works. America has 
 been prolific in plays dealing with their captains of industry — 
 in taking the modern, sordid, truthful, photographic conditions 
 of life — and putting them on the stage. Some of them are very 
 finei, some of them being very big lessons, some accomplish a 
 great deal of good ; but there lies a great danger in them. We 
 must not over-glorify the ash-can, as the "crook-and-trusts" 
 drama. We must remember that all these material evidences 
 of man's domain cannot compete with the wind, the stars, the 
 spirit, the fantasy that lie about us, and which are our highest 
 attributes. These are the plays that sway, or should sway the 
 mind — the spiritual mind — of the man. I would rather see 
 burned every manuscript in the world that treated only of the 
 modern realistic drama, than that we should lose our heritage 
 of the imaginative gifts that can be ours. All of the modern 
 plays that have been done, are not worth the last act of 
 "Othello." We can't always have Shakespeare, but we can 
 have works that help us to cultivate the imagination, that 
 remember the graces, beauty, wit, fantasy. It has never been 
 an easy thing, either in our time, or in any time, to do great 
 things greatly, and to find a great public. Perhaps that is the 
 
reason it is so very fascinating. It is the privilege of the 
 actor, in his relation to the public, to feel the stimulus of 
 illuminating, and making acceptable a great play, that in the 
 beginning only a few really appreciate and desire. One can 
 always do the obvious, and the easy work, and get a very good 
 recompense, but it is the striving after the best that is the joy 
 of every artist. 
 
 We often hear about the heart-breaking experiences ofi 
 the actor's life, and the actor-manager who has pinned his 
 faith on doing difficult work ; but, believe me, back of it all is ; 
 a joy unspeakable for the true artist. "^l 
 
 The privileges of my calling are many. I am rebellious 
 against the man and woman of our profession who can only, 
 after years of work and often after achievement, remember 
 the unpleasant, the trying, the difficult hours — the physical 
 and mental discomfort. 
 
 These conditions, even while they do exist, cannot take 
 from us our privilege or power of illuminating and benefitting 
 humanity. Why, we can give in three lines of real acting, the" 
 glow, the warmth, the impetus to set hundreds of minds 
 aquiver with possibilities in their natures that they had not 
 dreamed of; to drag them away from the workaday world, to 
 uplift, to stimulatej perhaps to change the purpose of a life. 
 We can reach a small boy in the gallery ; take him into an ideal 
 world; start the tiny, almost dead glow of his imagination 
 growing. We can make you joyous ; we can make you thought- 
 ful ; we can make you forget your cares ; we can send you out 
 refreshed. That is ours as actors to give. And that is a power 
 not lightly to be decried. That is our power in the theatre. 
 But you who form the public, you, also, have a power that 
 is to be reckoned with. Good citizenship means all that is 
 best for education; and you men and women, you, also, must 
 be held responsible concerning the business and the dream of 
 the theatre. Either you go forth from your universities asking 
 for, and willing to accept the great imaginative gifts, or you 
 shut the doors on us that make possible these productions. 
 We will give you what you ask for — we of the theatre. There 
 are earnest men and women, eager to have you demand and 
 consume what is best, but without you we are helpless. 
 
 Do you ever consider when you say, "I wonder why 
 So-and-So doesn't do so-and-so," that it is because when you 
 have a holiday, you pay your money, and to gratify your wish 
 to have a good time, you cast off your mind, and let your 
 
physical senses merely enjoy the inane, inapt "show"; show, 
 that abominable word has been coined in the last decade, and 
 which is used to designate anything from a "leg show" to the 
 symbolic, exquisite "Blue Bird" of Maeterlinck. 
 
 I have talked to you about the splendid uses that can be 
 obtained from the theatre for educational purposes, and now 
 I am going to confide something to you, which will also help 
 to educate, because it will both honour a great artist and a 
 great man, and it will give dignity to our profession. It is a 
 scheme which I would like to see carried out, and it can be 
 done through your support, when we finally begin to interest 
 the public in it. 
 
 I must preface my scheme by telling you that one of the 
 most impressive things that I have ever seen in connection 
 with our profession, is the attitude of the public towards the 
 artist, in Europe. Perhaps I had better say in England, as I 
 do not know so much about the attitude of the public in the 
 continental countries of Europe towards their actors ; but I DO 
 know about it in England. It is an attitude of dignified re- 
 spect, and it never so impressed me as it did this year in Lon- 
 don. The city was filled with all sorts of people from all over 
 the continent, of all nationalities, and from all parts of the 
 British Isles. I stood very often in front of the statue that was 
 put up in memory of Sir Henry Irving in front of the National 
 Portrait Gallery — a beautiful, simple monument with the figure 
 of this wonderful man surmounting it, and underneath it the 
 simple words: "Henry Irving, Actor; Born, February 8, 1837; 
 Died, October 13, 1905." As I watched the crowd pass this 
 monument, I have seen men of all nationalities stop and look 
 at it, raise their hats, and walk on. That monument has done 
 more to impress the people with the dignity of our profession 
 than a library of praise concerning the power of the theatre. 
 Henry Irving was the man in England who raised the social 
 position of the actor, and rightly deserves the monument of 
 dignified respect which the public gave him, and his profession. 
 
 A man said to me not long ago, speaking of a certain actor 
 in England: "Yes; he is great. He is too fine an actor to be 
 knighted." Of course, we appreciate the humor of that. Let 
 it pass. But after all, the knighting of the players is done 
 to give a dignfiied recognition of the work that the actor has 
 accomplished. 
 
The money was raised for this monument to Sir Henry 
 Irving by subscriptions from members of every branch of the 
 dramatic profession. 
 
 Now, what I want to see done in this country, is a very 
 similar movement. America has produced a man in our pro- 
 fession who was as great a man as Irving, perhaps a greater 
 natural actor; who really did more for our profession than 
 anybody who has ever worked in it in this country. 
 
 That man was Edwin Booth. 
 
 I have just told you the amount of money which he spent, 
 and lost, in doing beautiful work in the theatre, bringing 
 into his work the finest artists and musicians, and the finest 
 company of actors that the country could produce. Now, 
 why shouldn't we have a statue of Edwin Booth? Don't you 
 think if such a statue stood in one of your public places, that 
 every time the man on the street passed it, and stopped to 
 think, that he would give it the dignified thought and con- 
 sideration that it deserves? 
 
 Don't you think it would make him appreciate the work 
 and the attainments of the people in our profession? And 
 don't you think between us such a movement can be started? 
 
 Just vaguely in my mind I have an idea how such a thing 
 could be brought about. I want to see a committee formed 
 of representative men and women; I want them to choose 
 the best American sculptor to do this statue; I want them 
 to obtain the very best actors that America has, and by the 
 most skillful stage management, form a company of these 
 actors; then select three or four of the best classic plays. I 
 want them to allot the actors to their parts, not taking into 
 consideration whether the actors are stars or whether they are 
 not stars, but to play the parts which the committee consider 
 these actors are fitted to play. When I speak of actors being 
 American, don't misunderstand that I mean the people must 
 be bred and born in this country. I am an Englishman, but 
 I am an American actor, and this applies to many more. I 
 don't recognize any nationality in art. Let them choose from 
 the best that there is in America at the time, and you may 
 be sure they would make a very fine showing. There should 
 be four or five performances. They should not come on 
 consecutive days. They should come say one every month. 
 Tickets should be sold for one, or for the series. It would 
 be very easy for a committee to find out what companies 
 are playing in Chicago during, say November, and from these 
 companies pick their cast. Again, they can pick the cast 
 for one of the other plays during the month of December, then 
 January, and so on. The same thing could be done in New 
 
York, and I think if the public were properly informed about 
 the movement, that it could be carried out just as well as it 
 was carried out in England; even on a bigger scale, perhaps, 
 as we have a larger population from which to draw our con- 
 tributions. 
 
 I have already talked this matter over with Mr. Norman 
 Hapgood, of Collier's Weekly, and have asked him to try and 
 form a committee to start the movement. There is not an 
 actor, there is not an artist, there is not a costumer, or any- 
 body in connection with our profession who, I am sure, would 
 not give their services to this, without any consideration of 
 monetary return. 
 
 Now, I am hoping there is somebody in Chicago who will 
 project this enterprise. I have many ideas on the subject, 
 and I should like to talk further to those who would be in- 
 terested in it. Quite the most wonderful thing that could 
 happen, would be to interest the authorities of your university, 
 and receive the help from a committee formed of its professors 
 in art and literature. I believe that if these gentlemen would 
 agree to this plan, and would call together the dramatic critics 
 of Chicago (a body of people who have done so much to help 
 our profession, and bring to it a dignified consideration) that 
 a generous response would be given us by all the newspapers, 
 and through them the public would be reached, and the project 
 would be assured of success. 
 
 And now, a final word in regard to the theatre in general. 
 It seems to me that a good deal of the future of the theatre 
 is in your hands — the public's hands — backed up by your 
 splendid newspapers and magazines who follow it so closely 
 and are willing to write so extensively about it. You can de- 
 mand from us almost what you want; you have the power 
 to force us to give you the best, and it is so easy for you to 
 ignore us, to pass us by, if we don't give you the best. It is 
 also very easy for you to encourage us and help us to climb 
 artistically and educationally, and bring the theatre to the 
 heights we want to see it stand upon. 
 
 Condemn all things that are brought into the theatre by 
 people who have not the real interest of the theatre at heart, 
 beyond a desire to gain notoriety, or solely to make money. 
 
 And so that you shall not misunderstand anything that 
 I have said in this paper, I want to say, my text, whenever I 
 am preaching about the theatre, is "Entertain; tag on all the 
 art you can while you are entertaining, and eventually the 
 best art will be accepted as entertainment." 
 
 The theatre has its MISSION, and the theatre has its 
 PLACE, and with your assistance, it ought to attain a very 
 high one. 
 
AK INITIAL FINE OF f f ^r.' 
 
 TH.S BOOK O-'^THE ""Jl^^s ^^^ ^^rtH 
 
 Xr«o"« S^roTTHe SEVENTH O.T 
 
 OVERDUE. 
 
GaylordBros 
 
 Makers 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 PAT. JAN. 21, 1901 
 
 YD 0346 
 
 4:^2347 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY