power field, these and kindred corporate influences wheeled into line. They brought every influence known to shrewd and crafty men of millions to bear in opposition to the bond issue; but the people were aroused as never before. They met the enemy at every point and routed him, foot, horse and dragoons. The total vote polled was 24,046, of which 21,918 were for and 2,128 against the proposition; so again and finally the people had won, by a majority of more than 10 to 1. Was ever greater courage or fidelity to the common weal displayed by any people anywhere, than by this comparative handful of Argonauts on the far western edge of our mighty Western continent?

The bonds were sold without difficulty and the actual work of construction commenced. The city asked for bids for cement, of which about one million barrels would be required. All

GEN. ADNA R. CHAFFEE, U. S. A. RETIRED

when most needed, thus insuring a constant flow of certain volume.

Since the source of the city's water supply is secured at an elevation of 3,800 feet above the point of delivery in the city, the constructing engineers. estimate that the city will be able to generate ninety thousand horse-power of electricity on the line of the Aqueduct. This means free lighting for the city and millions of dollars worth of commercial power for sale by the city at merely nominal rates.

On June 12, 1907, the final vote on bonding the city for twenty-three million dollars, estimated to be necessary to complete the gigantic project now well under way, was held. The initial bond issue met with very little opposition, but with the development of the project and the jeopardizing of immense light and power interests, by the assurance that on the completion of the great work the city would enter the light and

WILLIAM MULHOLLAND

bids were considered exorbitant, and forthwith the city constructed a cement plant, at a cost of $429,000, which has a capacity of 1,200 barrels a day. This is the pioneer municipal cement plant in the United States.

The city wanted telephone communication with all parts of the Aqueduct work extending a distance of 260 miles, through a sparsely settled or wholly barren country. Would a private corporation undertake the service? Yes, at a prohibitive tariff. At once the city constructed a complete telephone line, extending from the central offices in the heart of the city over the entire line of the Aqueduct construction. The city has constructed 130 miles of electric power line and is constructing two complete electric generating plants at a total cost of $500,000, for the purpose of furnishing light and power along the entire line of the Aqueduct. The city has built 80 miles of road and 20 miles of wagon trails, for facilitating the hauling of construction materials.

She has built 50 miles of pipe line for carrying a supply of fresh water to all construction camps on the line of work. The city has purchased and owns 120 square miles of territory along the line of her Aqueduct.

She conducts a complete hospital service for sick and injured employees, and she has now in her employ over 6,000 men, American laborers and employed at a minimum wage of two dollars for an eight-hour day.

Up to date, every feature of the vast work undertaken has been completed well under the engineers' estimates, and it is confidently predicted by all conversant with the project that it will be completed within the estimated cost of twenty-five million dollars and well within the time limit of six years from its inception in 1907.

In view of the recital of the facts here recorded, who will have the hardihood to set a limit upon the onward march of American Municipal Democracy?

A

LTHOUGH only in its third month, the theatrical season of 1909-10 gives ample evidence of the progress of the new Drama of the Idea. The change in the character of dramatic representation that began to manifest itself a few seasons ago has developed so rapidly and has achieved such important proportions that it is. now no longer denied, or viewed with skepticism and ridicule, but is accepted and encouraged even by those who formerly ignored or opposed it. Within an incredibly short time, the predictions of those who asserted that the American stage would have to present plays dealing with vital social subjects and reflecting the social and intellectual tendencies of the time have been verified. The dawn of the new social drama in America has already passed; its morning is here; the day of its fulfillment has well begun.

The social drama in America was a long time germinating. During twenty years, spasmodic sprouts became visible, only to be fatally smitten by the indifference of the multitude and the rapid discouragement of the few experts who blindly set their faces against the inevitable. And now these experts are justly without honor in their own country, for the multitude, impelled by the surge of the forces which are transforming the world and creating a new civilization, are demanding a drama expressive of these forces and reflecting nobler ideals of art, beauty and truth. And the producing managers, hastening to meet this demand, are finding it commercially profitable as well as artistically practicable, to give preference to plays of social significance, intellectual stimulus and ethical inspiration.

It is now conceded, though still grudgingly by some, that the theatre

has another mission than merely to entertain. The upholders of the dogma that the theatre was designed solely for amusement, that it could not afford to "preach," to be "didactic," and to "indulge in homolies" (a dogma, by the way, in contradiction to the known facts of theatrical history), have been silenced, though here and there a voice as from the past is raised in ineffectual protest. The two-fold mission of the theatre, the mission of enlightment, education and upliftment, conjoined with that of emotional appeal and entertainment, is now so commonly accepted as to be almost trite in its restatement. It is well that it is so, for no mightier factor for the promotion of good or ill in the community exists than the modern theatre in all of its manifold activities.

If this view may be considered too optimistic, one has but to turn to the roster of plays produced so far this. season for the first time in New York. Of the thirty-six plays, inclusive only of dramas and comedies, up to this writing one-third carried, directly or indirectly, an idea of social or ethical import or sought to convey a message of social value and instruction. That is to say, that apart from their interest as plays as such, and their external, human themes and purely emotional elements, these plays either projected a definite theme of positive influence or attempted to focus the search-light of publicity upon some question of grave public concern. Such a record is unparalleled and there are signs that it is not at an end.

It is true that not all of these plays have been successful or that they were models of dramatic construction or that their themes were entirely worth while. The point is that they were something more than simply plays written for

amusement purposes, that they did seek to provoke thought and stimulate intelligent interest and discussion, and that, though their authors bungled and stumbled at times, they were the result of an attempt to satisfy an increasing public appetite for such plays and of the authors' conscientious efforts to express themselves.

With this development has come. also the relegation to the background of the theme which dealt solely with the destinies of individuals, and particularly of the personal love theme, which heretofore has constituted the dominant motive of the popular drama. The love theme is there, of course, but it is subordinated to a larger and more vital theme of universal appeal and one more concerned with the destiny of humanity as a whole than with that of one or two individuals. The growth of social consciousness, the merging of the ego into the mass, the recognition

J. FORBES - ROBERTSON

of the complex social relations and obligations which modern civilization. produces, the search for individual betterment through social advancement -these receive striking confirmation. through this departure from long-time stage tradition.

This is best exemplified by The Passing of the Third Floor Back, The Harvest Moon, The Melting Pot, and The Fourth Estate, the four plays which must take precedence over all others up to this time for their intrinsic qualities. as well as for their social significance and importance. In each of these plays the personal love theme is incidental and they also illustrate the fact that it is now, not so much the manner in which a playwright says a thing, as it is what he has to say. In other words, it is the idea not the craftsmanship that counts.

In the case of The Passing of the

Third Floor Back, for instance, the author, Jerome K. Jerome, has deliberately ignored all of the accepted canons of dramatic technique, he has avoided all of the traditional stage devices, the laws of exposition, plot and counterplot, surprise and climax, and presented instead a series of episodes and pictures of character, each following the other easily, vividly and naturally, but culminating in a final effect which is irresistible and unforgettable, making in all a work of the most profound and moving character.

Into a London boarding-house kept by a shrewish, shrewish, close-fisted, selfish woman and inhabited by a group of sordid, middle class people, waited upon by a brow-beaten, hard-working, half-fed servant girl, comes one day a man who announces himself merely as a traveler, who, in passing by, has observed the card advertising a vacant room, for which he applies. From the

moment of his entrance the Passer-by exercises a remarkable influence upon all in the boarding-house. The serene dignity, kindliness and sweetness of his demeanor are felt at once. Το each one in turn he displays such quick sympathy, such acute understanding, such tender forbearance, bringing to bear such a power of selfrevelation and illumination, that each one comes to realize his or her possibilities for better living and nobler thinking. By subtle suggestion the Passer-by subjects each boarder to a process of self-analysis which reveals, stimulates and inspires.

When the Passer-by resumes his journey and passes from the house, he has left behind light where there was darkness; peace obtains instead of discord; love has displaced bitterness: humility has conquered pride; and kindness has supplanted harshness and cruelty. The Passer-by sym