ayers have a
sure position under responsible and intelligent government, and feel
themselves to be not mere puppets, but educational factors with a
certain pride and dignity in their work.

There are more Shakespeare plays given in Germany in a week than in
all the English-speaking countries together in a year. This is by no
means an exaggeration. The theatre is looked upon as a school. Fathers
and mothers arrange that their older children as well as themselves
shall attend the theatre all through the winter, and subscribe for
seats as we would subscribe to a lending library. During the last year
in Germany, the plays of Schiller were given 1,584 times, of
Shakespeare 1,042 times, the music-dramas of Wagner 1,815 times, the
plays of Goethe 700 times, and of Hauptmann 600 times. There is no
spectacular gorgeousness, as when an Irving, a Booth, or a Beerbohm
Tree sugarcoats Shakespeare to induce us barbarians to go, in the
belief that we are after all not wasting our time, since the
performance tastes a little of the more gorgeous music halls. The
scenery and costumes are sufficient, and the performance always worth
intelligent attention, for the reason that both the director and his
players have given time and scholarship to its interpretation. The
acting is often indifferent as compared to the French stage, but it is
at least always in earnest and intelligent. The theatre prices in
Berlin are high, even as compared with New York prices, but in other
cities and towns of Germany cheaper than in England, France, or
America.

Pericles passed a law in Athens by which each citizen was granted two
oboli, one to pay for his seat at the theatre, the other to provide
himself with refreshment. In Athens the play began at 6 or 7 A. M.,
and during the morning three tragedies and a satirical drama were
played, followed in the afternoon by a comedy. The theatre of
Dionysius seated 30,000 people, who brought their cushions, food, and
drink, and occasionally used them to express their dislike of the
performance or the performers. At one of the larger industrial towns
in Germany, during a Sunday of my visit, there were three
performances; one at 11 A. M., of a patriotic melodrama, "Glaube und
Heimat"; another, at 3.30 P. M., of "Der Freischuetz"; and another, at
7.30 P. M., of Sudermann's play, "Die Ehre." The prices of seats for
the morning performance ranged from eight cents to forty-five cents; a
little more in the afternoon; and f