e man himself, too. Such technique, of course,
comes most often from the study of other drama. Certainly it was an
original possession of none of the dramatists of the Celtic Renaissance,
and Mr. Martyn might have been content to be a fellow learner, along
with the rest of them, from one another, and from all the great
dramatists of the world. It may be that Mr. Martyn never would have
attained style, but he could, I think, have learned to make his
characters express themselves in a way nearer to true dramatic speech
than the lifeless dialogue of his that only just manages to give you
their thought, with none of their mood of the moment or of their
personality.

In every one of Mr. Martyn's plays the plot is interesting, save in "The
Place Hunters"; in every other play it is significant; and in all it is
come largely of his individual experience of life. Back of all the plays
but these two political satires there is brooding that is deep if not
passionate. In all the characters are natural, though some of them are
unusual in the way of the unusual characters of Ibsen. And all the plays
are marred, "The Heather Field" less than any other, by the fumbling
touch of the amateur. Ironically, Mr. Martyn is strong where most
Irishmen are weak--in his plot construction: even Mr. Yeats, who never
praises with his tongue in his cheek, owning to "the triumphant
construction of the 'The Heather Field'"; and weak, where most Irishmen
are strong, in the dialogue. It would not have aided Mr. Martyn, for the
kind of play he prefers, to have listened to the speech of the peasant
as Lady Gregory has listened to it, but he might have learned, with such
compeers, how to select and to condense from actual upper-class speech a
speech that would represent the thoughts and emotions and personalities
of his characters. It is far more difficult, of course, to write
dialogue for upper-class people, save humorous dialogue, since, as many
from Wordsworth's day on have pointed out, upper-class people do not
express their thoughts and emotions as frankly as do the folk. As Mr.
Yeats puts it, they look into the fire instead.

Amateur as he is, however, Mr. Martyn has one play to his credit that he
who has read will remember, "The Heather Field." It is often thus with
the amateur. We need go no further than Mr. Martyn's countryman who gave
us "The Burial of Sir John Moore" for witness. Mr. Martyn has, too, like
other amateurs, given suggestions to oth