he good plays that have shown a lasting quality, have
sinned in neither of these particulars.

It is especially of import that our critic-in-the-seat should insist on
this matter of normal appeal, because ours happens to be a day when
personal vagaries, extravagant theories and lawless imaginings are
granted a freedom in literary and other art in general such as an
earlier day hardly conceived of. The abuses under the mighty name of Art
are many and flagrant. All the more need for the knowing spectator in
the theater, or he who reads the play at home, to be prepared for his
function, quick to reprimand alike tame subserviency or the
abnormalities of unrestrained "genius." It is fair to say that absolute
honesty on the dramatist's part in the conception and presentation of
theme will meet all legitimate criticisms of his work. Within his
limitations, we shall get the best that is in him, if he will only show
us life as he sees it, and have the courage of his convictions, allowing
no son of man to warp his work from that purpose.

CHAPTER VII

METHOD AND STRUCTURE

I

So far we have considered the material of the dramatist, his theme and
subject matter, and his attitude toward it. But his method in conceiving
this material and of handling it is of great importance and we may now
examine this a little in detail, to realize the peculiar problem that
confronts him.

At the beginning let it be understood that the dramatist must see his
subject dramatically. Every stage story should be seen or conceived in a
central moment which is the explanation of the whole play, its reason
for being. Without that moment, the drama could not exist; if the story
were told, the plot unfolded without presenting that scene, the play
would fall flat, nay, there would, strictly speaking, be no play there.
That is why the French (leaders in nomenclature, as in all else
dramatic) call it the _scene a faire_, the scene that one must do; or,
to adopt the English equivalent offered by Mr. Archer in his interesting
and able manual of stagecraft entitled _Playmaking_, the obligatory
scene: that is, the scene one is obliged to show. This moment in the
story is a climax, because it is the crowning result of all the
preceding growth of the drama up to a point where the steadily
increasing interest has reached its height and an electric effect of
suspense and excitement results. This suspensive excitement depends upon
the clash of human will