l-sustaining faith, and in that protest I feel
inclined to concur.

With "The Lonely Way" begins a series of plays representing not only
Schnitzler's highest achievements so far, but a new note in the modern
drama. To a greater extent than any other modern plays--not even
excepting those of Ibsen--they must be defined as psychological. The
dramas of Strindberg come nearest in this respect, but they, too, lag
behind in soul-revealing quality. Plots are almost lacking in the
Schnitzler productions during his later period. Things happen, to be
sure, and these happenings are violent enough at times, but they do not
constitute a sharply selected sequence of events leading up to a
desired and foreshadowed end. In the further development of this
period, even clearly defined themes are lost sight of, and the course
of the play takes on an almost accidental aspect. This is puzzling, of
course, and it must be especially provoking to those who expect each
piece of art to have its narrow little lesson neatly tacked on in a
spot where it cannot be missed. It implies a manner that exacts more
alertness and greater insight on the part of the reader. But for that
very reason these later plays of Schnitzler should prove stimulating to
those who do not suffer from mental laziness or exhaustion.

"Intermezzo" (_Zwischenspiel_) might be interpreted as an attack on
those new marital conventions which abolish the old-fashioned demand
for mutual faithfulness and substitute mutual frankness. It would be
more correct, however, to characterize it as a discussion of what
constitutes true honesty in the ever delicate relationship between
husband and wife. It shows, too, the growth of a woman's soul, once she
has been forced to stand on her own feet. Viewed from this point, the
play might very well be classified as feministic. It would be easy, for
one thing, to read into it a plea for a single moral standard. But its
ultimate bearing goes far beyond such a narrow construction. Here as
elsewhere, Schnitzler shows himself more sympathetic toward the female
than toward the male outlook on life, and the creator of _Cecilia
Adams-Ortenburg_ may well be proclaimed one of the foremost living
painters of the woman soul.

The man who, in "Anatol," saw nothing but a rather weak-minded
restlessness in woman's inconstancy, recognizes in "Intermezzo" woman's
right to as complete a knowledge of life and its possibilities as any
man may acquire. The same note