CONCLUSION.
A few reflections on the theatre and its work in concluding this
little history may not be out of place.
The cultivation and progress of the drama in connection with its
kindred arts, poesy and painting, marks the progress of civilization,
culture and refinement at any given period in any country. Without the
aid of the theatre and the actors' art, the great majority of mankind
would remain in ignorance as to the works of the most gifted writers;
without those great reflectors of human thought, how many thousands
there have been and are who never would have heard or read the plays
of Shakespeare and other writers of genius, but who, by the assistance
of the actor's delineations, have become familiar with the most
sublime and beautiful thoughts and sentiments that adorn our language.
I make mention particularly of Shakespeare's plays, as they are beyond
all question the greatest and grandest compositions ever written.
Among the thousands of plays that have been written during and since
the great dramatic renaissance of Elizabeth's reign, they still stand
out incomparable as models _par excellence_ of dramatic composition,
challenging competition, and as yet unrivaled after a lapse of more
than three centuries.
That the stage is a great factor in our modern civilization, for the
education of the people, no reading, reflecting person would attempt
to deny. It is true that some pernicious things occasionally creep in
that would be better suppressed, but they are rare and exceptional.
The great bulk of dramatic entertainment is uplifting in its
tendencies. The infinite variety of plays presented, showing human
life in all conditions, and under every variety of circumstances, can
not be otherwise than educational in effect upon those who witness
them. However crude or devoid of literary merit a play may be, there
seldom is one, however bald in plot or uninteresting in sentiment, but
what "points a moral and adorns a tale."
In Shakespeare's day the theatre was even more or an educational
institution than it is today. Books were scarce in that age, and the
newspapers were an undiscovered medium of information, so that plays
(especially historical plays) possessed a wonderful interest for the
masses, who had little chance for schooling or the acquirement of
knowledge from books.
The old chronicles and legends were freely used by the dramatists of
the Elizabethan era, and the incidents of history were made so
familiar to the habitues of the theatre that the common people
acquired a good knowledge of history by witnessing the representation
of those plays. To illustrate how much this was the case, Ben Jonson
tells the story of a fellow who, having been taken to task on some
question of history and the accuracy of his position being assailed
and the authenticity of his assertions being called in question,
replied by way of defense: "No, I confess I had it not from the
histories but from the play books, and consider them the more
authentic."
Many dramas have been written (and more especially by the poets)
without perhaps having in view their exploitation on the stage, but
like their other poetry, to be read, suitable only for the library,
more poetical than dramatic.
Such are the plays of Byron, Shelley, Keats, Moore, and others. A
still greater number have been written solely for acting purposes; and
the majority of these may not lay claim to any permanent abiding place
in literature. Others still are admirably adapted to both the library
and the stage. Such are the plays of Sheridan, Knowles, Bulwer,
Schiller, Kotzebue, and later of Heinrick Ibsen. Of such a character
also are the plays of our gifted Salt Lake dramatist, the late Edward
W. Tullidge. The present-day theatre-goers have little time to indulge
in the reading of plays. The overwhelming mass of reading matter
thrown from the press, keeps the general reader busy to keep abreast
of the current literature of our times. So that plays form no part of
the world's reading matter; here and there is one, some stagestruck
soul who loves to get hold of and read a play, but the vast majority
are content to let the actors read the plays for them, preferring to
witness the acting of them. It is a fact and a very gratifying one
that Shakespeare's plays are about the only ones that are read
nowadays, and these are by no means so universally read as they should
be. The masses have not time for reading Shakespeare, or other
dramatists, so it is a fortunate thing for them that the theatres are
so popular and accessible; here, they can hear the thoughts and
sentiments, and see in literal action the characters of both ancient
and modern times, and gather from the mimic scene suggestions of the
tremendous throes and struggles through which the human race has
passed.
During the forty-three years that the Salt Lake Theatre has been in
existence, an almost infinite variety of plays have been presented and
thousands of actors (as infinite in variety as the plays) have
"strutted and fretted their brief hour upon its stage" and now are
heard no more. It is a solemn reflection that in all probability more
than three-fourths of all who have trod the stage of this theatre,
both local and transient actors, in less than half a century of
existence are "heard no more." The voices that have thrilled us, the
animated and beautified forms that have called forth our admiration
and praise, are stilled forever by the chilling touch of death;
genius, mediocrity, incompetency, all alike go down, and the greatest
names in a few brief years are forgotten; so transitory is the actor's
fame. Yet it is not more so perhaps than that of other professions,
and certainly not quite so much of a "will o' the wisp" as "seeking
the bubble reputation in the cannon's mouth."
Out of the multitudinous dramatic pictures that have been presented on
the stage of this theatre during its forty-three years of existence,
it is interesting to know which stand out in bold relief. We need not
hesitate to reply, the plays of Shakespeare, and those that are
nearest akin to them, such as Bulwer's "Richelieu," Knowles'
"Virginius," Banim's "Damon and Pythias." The Irish plays of Dion
Boucicault, "Colleen Bawn," "Arrah Na Pogue," "Shaugraun," "Kerry,"
and even his "London Assurance," made very strong impressions, were
very popular, and made money both for actors and managers. So with
many other plays we might cite; but compared with Shakespeare's plays
they have proven to be short-lived and their fame but transitory. They
have never found a permanent abiding place in the world of literature.
There is a strange, a marvelous thing in connection with the plays of
Shakespeare. In his day the theatre was not popular, as it is in our
times. The religionists held it in reprobation; actors were looked
upon by the good church people as little better than vagabonds, and
the occupation of play writing was scarcely reputable. The Globe
Theatre, the best there was in London at that time, was little better
than a barn. The art of scene painting was unknown. Candles were the
best artificial light they had, all the accessories of the stage were
of the most primitive description. The art of costuming plays was
crude in the extreme, and woefully inadequate and incorrect. In short,
the facilities for staging plays were poor, extremely poor, as
compared with those of our own time. The greatest drawback of all
however was this. They had no women on the stage; all those beautiful
female characters of Shakespeare's were impersonated by men. Woman had
not yet asserted her independence and equality with man in this domain
of art; and yet under these most adverse conditions, _the greatest
plays the world has ever seen were written_. Three centuries have
winged their flight into the past, and in all that time no other
dramatist has arisen that can rival Shakespeare. The popularity of the
theatre and the actor's art have steadily grown since his time until
in our own day we have the most costly and elaborate theatres. In
every city, and almost every town of the civilized world, there is
some sort of a theatre; many of them are truly _temples_ of the
Thespian art; invention has racked its brains to supply original and
costly adjuncts to the drama in the way of scenery and mechanical
devices; realism has run mad in its efforts to produce novel illusions
and startling stage effects. Woman has long since demonstrated her
equality with man in the arena of dramatic art, and for more than two
centuries she has adorned the stage with her beauty, grace and
talents. There is an eager and expectant world of theatregoers waiting
for some new genius to come forth and give to the stage another halo,
to shed a radiance over its flickering lights, and fill the world with
wonder and delight; but alas! no other Shakespeare has arisen; with
the models he gave before them, in three centuries no dramatist has
arisen that could write a "Hamlet," a "Macbeth," or a "Lear;" nothing
in all that time to equal "Romeo and Juliet," "As You Like It," or
"The Merchant of Venice."
There have been hundreds of playwrights since Shakespeare's time,
thousands of plays have been written, the greater portion of them
worthless to the stage, but a great number of excellent playwrights
have flourished since then, and their plays have had a greater or less
degree of success. We will just instance a few of the most successful
ones. Otway wrote "Venice Preserved;" Massinger, "A New Way to Pay Old
Debts;" Addison his "Cato," Goethe his "Faust;" Schiller "The
Robbers;" Kotzebue, "The Stranger;" Bellinghousen, "Ingomar;"
Sheridan, "The School of Scandal," "Pizarro" and "The Rivals;"
Knowles, "The Hunchback," "Virginius" and "William Tell;" John Howard
Payne, "Brutus;" Bulwer, "The Lady of Lyons," "Richelieu" and "Money;"
Dr. Bird, "The Gladiator;" Judge Conrad, "Jack Cade;" George F. Boker,
"Francisca de Rimini." I might instance many others, but these will
suffice tor my purpose. Now these are all noble productions, and have
won fame and money for both authors and actors; but it is questionable
if any of them will live indefinitely. Already many of the plays I
have named are waning in the dramatic firmament; some of them have
already set. Why is it, let us ask. What is there in Shakespeare's
plays that lifts them so far above the average of merit and sets them
on a plane so distinctively their own? Other authors have certainly
equaled Shakespeare in erudition, have even excelled him in the
description of the sublime and terrible, surpassed him in glowing
pictures of supernatural imagery. Why, then, does the world attach so
much importance to the work of Shakespeare? Why are they so highly
prized? It is because Shakespeare was the grand High Priest of Nature!
He got closer to the human heart than any and all other authors. To
him nature was an open book, and he was so thoroughly in love with it,
that he left no page unturned or unobserved; from the primer page or
the humblest creations of nature's lavish hand up through the
countless and variegated specimens of her handiwork to the crowning
production of her creative power, _man_--this son of genius penetrated
all her secrets, delved all her depths, scaled her loftiest heights.
The heart of man, that secret repository of so many contending
passions; that cradle where the affections are rocked into life; that
fountain whence so many varying emotions spring, that sea o'er which
are swept the multitudinous passions of life, was also to him an open
page; the last and greatest chapter in nature's wonderful volume. He
understood life in all its phases.
No plays afford greater opportunity for scenic splendor than
Shakespeare's, yet none are less dependent on the adjuncts of scenery
and outward realism. Shakespeare put his realism into his characters
and no inadequate surroundings can rob them of their wondrous charms;
they possess such range of mental vision, such tremendous power of
thought, such depth and placidity, such glowing imagination; his
characters are living, breathing, speaking types of the age in which
they lived, and he their creator stands out wholly beyond question or
dispute, the most transcendent genius our earth has ever produced.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Mormons and the Theatre, by John S. Lindsay