As a Civil War spectacle, “The Birth of a Nation” will probably never be outdone. The battle-field, with its miles of hand-to-hand fighting; the assembling of the Klan—hundreds of them in white robes, mounted;—Lincoln’s assassination—these things were more impressive than even the reality could have been, for no one of them was ever viewed in its entirety, or with deliberation, and it seems impossible that they should ever have been more real. Stirring, appropriate music, fitted by Griffith to the scenes, added a final thrill. The negro aspects of the picture were not entirely fortunate ... within the facts, but hardly within the proprieties. It attached no blame to the negro for the abuses of Reconstruction, but presented him in an unfavorable light. Negro political domination in the South was an evil growing out of the war—a war and an evil for which the negro was the last person to be held responsible, the last person to be reminded of them. “The Clansman,” as if was first called, was shown publicly at Clune’s Auditorium, Los Angeles, on the evening of February 8, 1915, all the film colony of Los Angeles being present. Reports had been spread that there would be negro rioting, and the police were out in force. There was no trouble. The theatre was jammed. Here and there in the audience were negroes. Following this presentation, a print of the picture was hurried to Washington, and shown to President Wilson, members of the Cabinet, and their families. A few days later, February 20, this print was run in New York, for the censors, and others concerned. Thomas Dixon, author of the story, was present, and declared excitedly, to Griffith: “‘The Clansman’ is too tame a title for what you have done. Let’s call it ‘The Birth of a Nation,’” which became its title, then and there. On March 3, the picture was shown at the Liberty Theatre, New York City, at two dollars a seat, the first time a motion picture ever became a full-sized theatre attraction. Even so, it was in for a record run. * * * * * Lillian’s success as Elsie Stoneman was a complete surprise to her, for she had not liked the part, and then it had dragged on so long. But when the notices poured in, she must have begun to wonder if anybody but herself and Walthall were in the picture. Their faces together, or hers alone, looked out from every page. From New York, Thomas Dixon wrote: _My dear Miss Gish_: I don’t care to tell you all the beautiful things I’d like to say about you and your exquisite work in our picture.... Between the acts, last week, a distinguished young man of letters—editor of a great magazine—found me in the lobby, dragged me one side and whispered “For God’s sake, tell me quick, who is the glorious little girl playing Elsie?” I answered, “Miss Lillian Gish.” “I want to meet her right away! Where is she?” he gasped.