lure to recognize theoretically the necessity for adequate
motivation.

Changes of sentiment are much more important and more difficult to
handle. A change of will can always manifest itself in action but it is
very difficult to externalize convincingly a mere change of heart. When
the conclusion of a play hinges (as it frequently does) on a conversion
of this nature, it becomes a matter of the first moment that it should
not merely be asserted, but proved. Many a promising play has gone wrong
because of the author's neglect, or inability, to comply with this
condition.

It has often been observed that of all Ibsen's thoroughly mature works,
from _A Doll's House_ to _John Gabriel Borkman_, _The Lady from the Sea_
is the loosest in texture, the least masterly in construction. The fact
that it leaves this impression on the mind is largely due, I think, to a
single fault. The conclusion of the play--Ellida's clinging to Wangel
and rejection of the Stranger--depends entirely on a change in Wangel's
mental attitude, _of which we have no proof whatever beyond his bare
assertion_. Ellida, in her overwrought mood, is evidently inclining to
yield to the uncanny allurement of the Stranger's claim upon her, when
Wangel, realizing that her sanity is threatened, says:

WANGEL: It shall not come to that. There is no other way of
deliverance for you--at least I see none. And therefore--therefore
I--cancel our bargain on the spot. Now you can choose your own path,
in full--full freedom.

ELLIDA (_Gazes at him awhile, as if speechless_): Is this
true--true--what you say? Do you mean it--from your inmost heart?

WANGEL: Yes--from the inmost depths of my tortured heart, I mean
it.... Now your own true life can return to its--its right groove
again. For now you can choose in freedom; and on your own
responsibility, Ellida.

ELLIDA: In freedom--and on my own responsibility? Responsibility?
This--this transforms everything.

--and she promptly gives the Stranger his dismissal. Now this is
inevitably felt to be a weak conclusion, because it turns entirely on a
condition of Wangel's mind of which he gives no positive and convincing
evidence. Nothing material is changed by his change of heart. He could
not in any case have restrained Ellida by force; or, if the law gave him
the abstract right to do so, he certainly never had the slightest
intention of exercising it. Psychologically, indeed, the incident is
accep