preme excellence of his performance, Mr. Mansfield merits great praise for the courage of this great venture. It is a comparatively easy matter, in these days, to amuse the vast majority of the public with farces, vaudeville, and light comic opera; especially when they are presented with brilliant spectacular display. The commercial success of such theatrical ventures is always well assured without involving any risk of costly preparation. But when it comes to the presentation of the great dramatic classics, whose qualities appeal to something besides the mere senses and which require imagination and intellect to appreciate them, the case is quite different. It is a matter of strenuous competition to make the heavy classics as attractive to the masses as those lighter pieces.

Referring solely to the legitimate drama, Victor Hugo well wrote that there are always three classes of play-goers: one that desires only to see something going on, one that desires to be stirred emotionally, and one that desires to see something that will inspire thought; and that the first class is always the most numerous, and the third class the least numerous.

In our day, when so little prominence is given, on the whole, to the legitimate drama, the exceedingly numerous first class prefers to attend the extravaganza and spectacular play; and the third class alone, or even with such support as the second class would usually give it, is not numerous enough to maintain the classical play. Therefore, in order to insure the success of a classical presentation it is necessary to prepare the play in such a way that all classes will be appealed to. To secure this result not only must the art of the actors be of high excellence, but also there must be lavish expenditure on scenery, costumes, and other accessories, so that there will be little or nothing left for the popular imagination to do to effect an understanding of the environments of time and place. Mr. Mansfield has entered upon the arduous undertaking of a Shakespearean revival of unusual magnitude this season in the conviction that he owes it to the cause of his art to give generous assistance in keeping classic plays in the foreground.

The Mansfield production of "Julius Cæsar" arrived in Chicago for its initial appearance at the Grand Opera House in this city in a special train of ten cars. The

striking thing about the stage outfit is that antiquarian accuracy of detail was secured through Mr. Mansfield's employment of the great English artist, Sir Alma-Tadema, to design all the costumes and all the scenery, with the single exception of the scene in Brutus's tent, occurring in Act IV. Hundreds of costumes were made from the most approved models. Several hundred people take part in the action for the mobs, armies, etc., besides the many principal actors, which fact necessitated a great deal of drillwork. These are a few of the items which make this great revival outweigh in cost and exceed in magnitude any half-dozen of the ordinary productions this season at the leading playhouses of the country. In fact, it is due to the inordinate cost of an adequate and symmetrical production that "Julius Cæsar" is seen on the stage so seldom, although for stage representation it is one of the most interesting and impressive of the tragedies. Not only are the appropriate scenes and costumes too expensive for the actor and manager of ordinary means, but also the many first-rate artists required, together with the multitude of people necessary for the pictorial scenes, raise the expense to an almost prohibitive sum. Mr. Mansfield undertook this great enterprise in the cause of genuine art, with the hope that his sincere effort would meet with strong encouragement from all who profess to love the legitimate drama; and, judging from the way the Grand Opera House was crowded during the fortnight in Chicago, one may trust that his hope has been realized.

Mans

Of course, the most remarkable feature of the production is Mansfield's interpretation of the character of Brutus, which is unique among all Shakespeare revivals, and bears evidence of an unusually painstaking and wise inductive study of the play. field's Brutus is not the oratorical hero of an older and more declamatory school of acting, but is an introspective, philosophical Brutus; a strong man of refinement and kindly nature, of a gentleness that cannot be masked under stoical restraint, but who sacrifices humane compassion for the sake of a patriotic principle. I know of only one among the higher literary critics of Shakespeare who has so thoroughly taken into account all the humane elements in Brutus's nature, who has fully indicated the extreme of gentleness in him, and at the same

time shown that of his greatness of personality.

Mansfield strikes the keynote of his whole conception of the character of Brutus in the remarkable manner in which he makes his entrance into the action. On the opening night he was on the stage for some time before the audience was aware of his presDuring the ence. scene of Cæsar's triumphal progress, a dark, sinewy man leaned against the basin of a fountain back in a shadowy corner, smiling sadly as he gazed with calm, keen eyes upon the pageant of black slaves carrying the litters of sleek patrician women; the golden statue of the conqueror of Pompey, borne high above all heads; the splendid litter of Cæsar himself, whose wasted visage appeared amid a shimmer of white and gold, with the suave and gracious Antony whispering compliments in Cæsar's ear; the ranks of lictors, soldiers, and slaves; and the applauding multitude of onlookers. Slowly the calm eyes of the silent man leaning against the fountain swept this array again and again. He seemed to be about forty years old. His dark, wavy hair was bound with a circle of gold. Over his white tunic and toga was thrown a mantle of dull red. About his neck hung a golden chain bearing a medallion; and on his bare forearms he wore heavy bracelets of gold. The muscles of the neck, chest, and arms stood out boldly. This swarthy form, with the pensive eyes, quivering nostrils, and mobile mouth, gave an impression of poetic fire and bodily force. Sometimes the broad shoulders were raised, half in scorn, half in patient resignation. Once this man shifted his pose to catch a glimpse of the oncoming procession; but otherwise he remained almost motionless for several minutes. When the crowd dispersed at a gesture from Mark Antony, the silent watcher advanced from the fountain and was stopped by the question from

Cassius. Will you see the order of the course?

Brutus. I am not so gamesome.

Only then was it realized that the great actor had been overlooked in the interest of the brilliant pageant. For a star such a mode of entrance is anomalous.

The predominant note in Mansfield's. whole representation of the part is one of ineffable pathos. Mansfield's Brutus is a sincere patriot, a man of strong, gentle disposition, ruling by his personal magnetism,

courage, and commanding intellect, even the men who had much to do to persuade him to join their conspiracy to restore the declining republic, only to be borne to destruction with the unfortunate cause. The pathos of the whole tragedy of "Julius Cæsar" lies in the unretributive calamity which overwhelms a man of generous nature, honest purpose, and indomitable will. To all who have made an inductive study of the part there can be no doubt that Mansfield's conception of it is the true one. In the garden scene on the night of the conspiracy, Brutus's tenderness is so wrought upon by his wife's entreaties that he is induced, against his better judgment, to agree to take Portia into his confidence with regard to his plans, though there is danger that the resulting strain of her anxiety may lead her to betray the conspiracy. Again, in striking contrast with the usual harshness of Roman masters is Brutus's considerateness for his dependents. On the eve of the Battle of Philippi, he insists that the watchers in his tent shall lie down instead of standing, as discipline would require. The same is true of the kindness he shows to his page, Lucius, on the same night, when the boy falls asleep while playing his lyre. On such scenes as these Mansfield lays particular emphasis in his representation, as giving the key to the character of the republican leader; and there are many passages in other portions of the play to support his theory.

This second great Shakespearean revival that Mansfield has headed quite surpasses the success of his "Henry V.," fine as the latter was. His support is strong, Mr. Barry Johnstone's Cassius and Mr. Arthur Forrest's Mark Antony being particularly able. As much may be said of Miss Dorothy Hammond's Portia and Miss Maude Hoffman's Calpurnia. There is especial charm in the convincing manner in which the devotion of Brutus's page, Lucius, is represented by Miss Mona Harrison. Concerning the supernumeraries it should be stated that, on account of excellent training, the Roman mob is a masterpiece.

Except Richard Mansfield's revival of "Julius Cæsar," the most important dramatic event of this season is Mrs. Minnie Maddern Fiske's presentation of an English version of Paul Heyse's tragedy, "Mary of Magdala." This was given at the Grand Opera House, Chicago, for three weeks, be

TYRONE POWER (ON LEFT) AND SCOTT CRAVEN, AS
JUDAS AND HARAN IN 66 MARY OF
99
MAGDALA, ACT V.

fought for her lofty artistic ideals throughout her career, and for many years against great odds. In one field or another, the preparation of this, Mrs. Fiske's most important undertaking has been in progress for two years; and the result is well calculated to afford high artistic pleasure to the appreciative spectator.

Including the Egyptian dancing girls and other supernumeraries, there are nearly two hundred people on the stage, and the scenes are models of antiquarian study. There is unity of place throughout each act, the scenes being as follows: Act I-A room in

the house of Mary of Magdala, a sumptuous Oriental interior; Act II-A room in the house of Aulus Flavius, a sumptuous Roman interior; Act III-A square in Jerusalem, shown in an accompanying illustration; Act IV-Same as in Act I; Act V-A ravine near Jerusalem, the background consisting of high, wood-crowned cliffs and crags, with a flight of stairs hewn out of the face of a precipice. During the darkness and thunderstorm when Tyrone Power depicts here the remorse and despair of Judas, the wild picturesqueness, not to say sublimity, presented in this view is a triumph of scenic art. The scene of the whole play is laid in Jerusalem during the reign of the Roman Emperor Tiberius.

This powerful drama, based on the story of the Crucifixion, owes its effectiveness to its tragic suggestion. So far as stage action is concerned, the author seems to have followed the pre-Elizabethan theory of "dramatic decorum." There are almost no deeds done on the stage. The spectator sees absolutely no bloodshed. Yet the play is an intense tragedy, and the austerity and sadness which pervade the piece without a relieving feature beyond the sublimity of the theme inspire an almost oppressive seriousness in the onlooker. In short, the drama is a masterpiece of suggestion. The real theme of it is the Passion of Christ, who is not impersonated on the stage, and all the drama that is visible to the audience is but incidental to the great invisible tragedy. The little drama enacted before our eyes is used by the author as a mirror for the drama which it is deemed impossible to represent adequately on the stage. This plan to indicate to us the sufferings of the unseen hero, Christ, by the sufferings of those who are associated with him is ingenious. Use is made of the awe and reverence with

which the people of Christendom are accuș, tomed to regard this hero, because the feeling has been instilled into them by generations of training. But this dramatic plan would be worthless for any other subject, as it would be impossible to interest us in an unseen hero, whom we had not been wont to think of as a being of divine origin, the benefactor of the race, to whom we owe, gratitude and homage for his self-sacrifice for our salvation.

Yet, although Paul Heyse's scheme renders the visible drama of "Mary of Magdala" a matter of subordinate interest, it