gain a second
fortune from such a combination of these qualities as "Metamora." We are
more sophisticated; we refuse to be thrilled by Ingomar, no matter how
loudly he bellows. What we ask for principally is to be amused, and
consequently the great effort of the theatre is to amuse us, for the
theatre must cater to its public. So, if the stage to-day is not what it
was fifty years ago, the fault lies principally in front of the
footlights and not behind them.

* * * * *

[Illustration: BOOTH]

To the student of American acting, one name stands out before all the
rest, the name of Booth. No other actors in this country have ever
equalled the achievements of Junius Brutus Booth and of his son, Edwin
Booth. They possessed the genius of tragedy, if any men ever did, and no
one who saw them in their great moments can forget the impression of
absolute reality which they conveyed.

Junius Brutus Booth was the son of an eccentric silversmith of London,
and was born there in 1796. Let us pause here to remark that, just as
the greatest Frenchman who ever lived was an Italian, and the greatest
Russian woman a German, so most of the early American actors were either
English or Irish. This sounds rather Irish itself; but it is true.
Certainly, in the end Napoleon Bonaparte became as French as any
Frenchman and the Empress Catherine II Russian to the core; and the
English and Irish actors who came to these shores in search of fame and
fortune, and who found them and spent the remainder of their lives here,
have every right to be considered in any account of the American stage
which they did so much to adorn.

Junius Brutus Booth, then, was born in London in 1796. Twenty years
before, his father had been so carried away by Republican principles
that he had sailed for America to join the ranks of the army of
independence, but he was captured and sent back to England. So it will
be seen that he was something more than a mere silversmith; but he was
very successful at his trade, and was able to give his son a careful
classical education, to fit him for the bar. Imagine his chagrin when
the boy, after a short experience in amateur theatricals, announced his
intention of becoming an actor.

He secured some small parts, made a tour of the provinces, and finally,
in London, engaged in a remarkable war with the great tragedian, Edmund
Kean, which divided the town into two factions. But Booth tired of the