sympathy as is her husband in strength of character. The pitiful story of the undoing of this man is related to the motley company at the inn by a former servant of Bortsov. Then the lady herself appears. Her carriage has broken down, and she seeks shelter from the storm. Bortsov speaks to his wife, and appeals for a word of recognition. But she turns away, unmoved. And the sight of her heartlessness arouses all the bitterness pent-up in the breast of another bit of human wreckage, a tramp ruined by a heartless world. In this scene, poignant in its grim realism, there is a fine contrast of character between the two men.
The volume contains three farces: "The Proposal," "The Wedding," and "The Bear." These, too, are early works, and are characterized by a lightness of touch and a gentle playfulness of humor which Chekhov seems to have lost in later years. "The Proposal" unfolds all the petty details, the mean trivialities that come up between a man eager to propose, and a girl eager to dispose. The piece may be regarded as a preliminary study of the wedded life of the pair. The lady's father, Chubukov, and the lover, Iomov, have an exchange of pleasantries in the course of which the reader learns some interesting details of their private and family history. As Chubukov says, "Well that's a way to start your family bliss."
"The Bear" is a brief sketch of a stormy but successful courting, and the remaining farce, "The Wedding," describes a stormy wedding-supper.
Next to "The Cherry Orchard," the most important play in the volume is "The Three Sisters." It is a play that reveals the intense monotony of provincial life. As such, it is peculiarly characteristic of Chekhov's style. The three sisters have lived a colorless repressed life. Into the quiet of their lives enters, for a brief space, a great excitement and a great unrest. A regiment of soldiers stops at the village for a brief time. Then the soldiers leave, and the old inanity settles down again. A double grayness follows the brief flash of life and color.
This play, and "The Cherry Orchard," reveals the full mastery of Chekhov's delicate and refined art. He is the poet of the commonplace, and raises the threadbare to the height of dramatic action. He depicts his characters and unfolds his scenes with the light grace and the subtle touch of a skilled etcher. It is true that Chekhov does not set himself the task of attaining a philosophy of life. Perhaps he is an "inconclusive"; but as an artist his touch is sure, and his instinct infallible. He is the most truly original of all the later Russian writers. Those interested in Russian literature have every reason to congratulate themselves that they may possess, at last, the whole dramatic work of this greatest of the "modern" Russians.
A book that well merits translation into Russian is Clayton S. Cooper's "American Ideals." It helps to explain the American to himself, and should have every opportunity of making clear the meaning of America to those who have come to our shores from other lands. The author starts out by asking the question: "What is an American?"
