treasured a favourite doll until she was nearer thirty than twenty.
'They of course symbolise the unsatisfied passion of motherhood in
Mrs. Solness's heart, but I have very little doubt that Ibsen makes
use of this "symbol" because he has observed a similar case, or
cases, in real life.' 'What!' cried the critic. 'He has seen a
grown-up, a middle-aged woman continuing to "live with" her dolls!'
I was about to say that it did not seem to me so very improbable,
when a lady who was seated next me, a total stranger to both of us,
leant forward and said, 'Excuse my interrupting you, but it may
perhaps interest you to know that I HAVE THREE DOLLS TO WHICH I AM
DEEPLY ATTACHED!' I will not be so rude as to conjecture this lady's
age, but we may be sure that a very young woman would not have had
the courage to make such an avowal. Does it not seem that Ibsen knows
a thing or two about human nature--English as well as Norwegian--
which we dramatic critics, though bound by our calling to be subtle
psychologists, have not yet fathomed?" In the course of the
correspondence which followed, one very apposite anecdote was quoted
from an American paper, the _Argonaut_: "An old Virginia lady said
to a friend, on finding a treasured old cup cracked by a careless
maid, 'I know of nothing to compare with the affliction of losing a
handsome piece of old china.' 'Surely,' said the friend, 'it is not
so bad as losing one's children.' 'Yes, it is,' replied the old lady,
'for when your children die, you do have the consolations of religion,
you know.'"

It would be a paradox to call _The Master Builder_ Ibsen's greatest
work, but one of his three or four greatest it assuredly is. Of all
his writings, it is probably the most original, the most individual,
the most unlike any other drama by any other writer. The form of
_Brand_ and _Peer Gynt_ was doubtless suggested by other dramatic