s-like renews the strength of humanity, and
Hardt had drawn upon the rich source of racial lore. But when a jury
consisting of men like Dr. Jacob Minor, Dr. Paul Schlenther, Hermann
Sudermann, Carl Hauptmann and others within a few weeks after that
contest awarded the popular Schiller prize also to Hardt and for the
same play, with a competitor like Hofmannsthal in the race, it seemed
safe to argue that this unanimity indicated a turn of the tide. Both
Schoenherr and Hardt stand for that sane eclecticism which seems
destined to pilot German drama out of the contrary currents to which it
has long been a prey toward a type more in harmony with the classical
ideal.

[Footnote A: For Schoenherr, compare Vol. XVI, pp. 410-479.]

Though comparatively unknown when he issued as victor from those
contests and suddenly obtained a measure of celebrity, Hardt was by no
means a novice in the world of letters. The first book bearing his
name, _Priests of Death_ (1898), contained some stories of an epic
dignity and a dramatic rhythm that challenged attention and secured
interest for the works that followed. These were another volume of
fiction, one of poetry, some plays and a number of translations from
Taine, Flaubert, Balzac, and other French writers, which are remarkable
specimens of his ability to grasp the spirit of a foreign world and to
convey its essence through the medium of his native tongue. It seems
natural that his familiarity with French literature had some influence
upon the character of his prize drama, since he had chosen for its
topic a story belonging alike to German and Gallic lore. To re-create
the story of Tristan and Isolde upon the foundation of the German
source would have challenged comparison not only with the cherished
epic of Master Gottfried of Strassburg, but also with the music-drama
of Richard Wagner, who had treated it with something like finality,--at
least for the present generation. By going back to the old French
legend and to J. Bedier's book _Le roman de Tristan et Yseult_ (1900),
the author was able to present that most tragic of all love-stories
from a different angle. By complicating the plot through the
introduction of the second Isolde, jealousy became the secondary,
though hardly less powerful theme. This deviation from the
comparatively simple plot of the German story is of course more
difficult of comprehension upon the stage. It is not easy to convince
an audience that jealousy of