during the composition of _A Doll's House_--and he applies it with
something of fanaticism. He is under the sway of a prosaic ideal--
confessed in the phrase, "My object was to make the reader feel
that he was going through a piece of real experience"--and he is
putting some constraint upon the poet within him. The action moves
a little stiffly, and all in one rhythm. It lacks variety and
suppleness. Moreover, the play affords some slight excuse for the
criticism which persists in regarding Ibsen as a preacher rather
than as a creator--an author who cares more for ideas and doctrines
than for human beings. Though Mrs. Alving, Engstrand and Regina are
rounded and breathing characters, it cannot be denied that Manders
strikes one as a clerical type rather than an individual, while
even Oswald might not quite unfairly be described as simply and
solely his father's son, an object-lesson in heredity. We cannot be
said to know him, individually and intimately, as we know Helmer or
Stockmann, Hialmar Ekdal or Gregors Werle. Then, again, there are
one or two curious flaws in the play. The question whether Oswald's
"case" is one which actually presents itself in the medical books
seems to me of very trifling moment. It is typically true, even if
it be not true in detail. The suddenness of the catastrophe may
possibly be exaggerated, its premonitions and even its essential
nature may be misdescribed. On the other hand, I conceive it,
probable that the poet had documents to found upon, which may be
unknown to his critics. I have never taken any pains to satisfy
myself upon the point, which seems to me quite immaterial. There is
not the slightest doubt that the life-history of a Captain Alving
may, and often does, entail upon posterity consequences quite as
tragic as those which ensue in Oswald's case, and far more
wide-spreading. That being so, the artistic justification of the
poet's presentment of the case is certainly not dependent on its