22 THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 
as a diversion. There he expects to for- 
get his study of bird and beast and revel 
in a world of fantasy which has nothing in 
common with science. In the same way 
the worker of the theatre goes to nature 
merely for rest and relaxation. What 
does wild nature mean to him excepting 
a pageant of unnamable birds and ani- 
mals in whose presence he may forget 
the cares of his work? But that is the 
old-fashioned point of view for both. A 
new school arises and we are discover- 
ing that scientists and artists are one 
soul, seeking truth by two methods — 
the one objective, the other subjective. 
Science has fought its fight with super- 
stition and tradition and has won. Art 
is only beginning its fight with supersti- 
tion. Dramatic art is not yet delivered 
from its life scramble with quacks and 
commercialism. Yet in the hearts of 
the people, is the origin both of drama 
and of conservation and there the two 
will ultimately work together.” 
“The plea for conservation,” says 
the naturalist Ernest Harold Baynes, 
“must reach the hearts of the people 
before it can achieve success. They 
must visualize the beauty and romance 
of wild life as well as its economic value. 
Then they will be willing to conserve it.” 
Out of these beliefs of naturalist and 
poet came the bird masque Sanctuary, by 
Percy Mackaye, under the tutelage, one 
suspects, of Mr. Baynes. The play isa 
dream of Mackaye’s little daughter, to 
whom through the voice of the hermit 
comes the great need of preserving our 
wild birds. “The text-books,” says 
Augustus Thomas, “tell us that drama 
is a story told in action, but I believe 
that a better definition is an idea visu- 
alized.” In Sanctuary we have the idea 
that bird life must be conserved, visu- 
alized and made very real. 
It is believed that the play gave im- 
petus to the fight for the clause in the 
new tariff bill, forbidding the importa- 
tion of feathers. Thus already has the 
drama been a powerful agency in for- 
warding the movement for the preserva- 
tion of wild birds — but the opportunity 
has merely a beginning in this. It is 
easy to see that the needs of forestry, 
of the protection of our water supply, 
and in fact of all branches of conserva- 
tion may be put upon the stage with 
equal beauty and grace. 
“Let us dramatize our museums,” 
says Mackaye. “The natural history 
museum is established for a great social 
object, the conservation of wild nature 
knowledge in the hearts of people. 
Equipped by science only, it cannot fully 
obtain the interest of the people for 
whom it was founded. It must go 
farther and reach their imaginations. 
As it stands now indeed, it is a public 
boon; the people spend their spare time 
on Sunday at the museum, gazing eagerly 
at the exhibits although they only in part 
understand them and do not, in any case, 
fully appreciate their meaning. They 
spend their spare time for the rest of the 
week at the “movies.” To them the 
museum is never ecstatic and vivid, 
but the moving pictures are. AXE, 
it ought to be possible so to interpret 
the exhibits at a museum as to make 
them live for the general public as do 
the moving pictures. The naturalists 
and taxidermists have felt this need in 
creating the exhibits and have done 
their best to meet it. It is possible 
completely to fulfill this need. The 
drama can do it..... Pageantry pos- 
sésses the people. It must become a 
civic drama in name and in technique 
and will develop the masque to fit the 
public needs.” 
The masque Sanctuary has thus marked 
the beginning of an epoch in the service 
which the stage of the future is to render 
humanity. It offers a new field to 
player and playwright — a new pleasure 
and a new incentive to the playgoer. 
