Had one never heard of Sudermann, or his most popular drama, "Magda", in which Madame Bertha Kalich is now playing at the Plymouth, he would yet recognize it, before he had seen the first act through, as one of the dramas of the last quarter of the nineteenth century, as belonging to the period of Ibsen, Zola, Hardy, and the other great questioners of the established order of things. The predominant note which Sudermann strikes in "Magda" is one of protest and incidentally of inevitable tragedy. The comparison with Ibsen's "Ghosts" and the other Ibsen's dramas of a like nature comes almost immediately to the mind. In essential feeling the two have much in common, but Sudermann introduces far less of the morbidly exotic,--plays less in the weird nooks and crannies of human misery and sorrow, and bases his tragedy more entirely on conflicts of standards and temperaments.

In "Magda" it is the old Prussian paternalism, proud, self-righteous, and unbending, against the new spirit of freedom and the unbreakable will of a talented, restless woman. Magda, driven to leave her home early in life by the narrow and unsympathetic intolerance of her father returns twelve years later, a great and universally honored singer. But before attaining this pinnacle of success she had gone through a long period of degradation and poverty. She had been true to herself always, but realizes that her father with his stern and limited conception of morality could never comprehend the irregularities of a life so fundamentally different from his own. Thus she exacts the promise that no questions be asked about her past life if she is to return to the family who so ardently desire her. But the old father's suspicions are aroused, Magda forgets her initial caution and attempts to explain the life she has led away from home. Immediately the colonel's conception of honor is outraged, his family name has been irretrievably degraded, and all the household compassed in the ruin of one daughter. To his stiff-necked, unyielding idea of honor the only remedy lies through the bloody channels established by time and tradition. From this point the action might proceed to any one of many conclusions. Sudermann very wisely sees the struggle through, shows it up in its many phases, and leaves the future undetermined.

Whether "Magda" would seem like the great play it does without a Madame Kalich or a Sarah Bernhardt is open to serious question. The part of Magda was created for a great actress--what it would be without one we fortunately are not called upon to determine. Madame Kalich in every way measures up to the difficult requirements of a part, which to be great demands greatness in its interpretation. Trained as she has been in the careful school of the French theatre, she displays a perfection, a precision in the sightest detail of the dramatic art which is rarely equalled on the American stage.

The work of the rest of the cast is marked by the same finish, and also by a remarkable fitness for the various' parts. Each actor and actress is adapted to the peculiar role he or she plays, not only physically, but even, it would seem, in natural temperament. Edward Fielding as the colonel, has the impressive bearing, the stubborn will, and the military self-righteousness of the typical Prussian officer as if he had spent his entire life in the Kaiser's army. The realism of this old gentleman's character may be somewhat difficult for the American of today to grasp. Gis concept of absolute paternal rule, his narrow, strict moral sense is, to be sure, not an every day sight among the present inhabitants of this country. But there is certainly no American living who need search further than a Methodist grandparent or a German neighbor for first hand evidence that such Puritainism and paternalism as that emboided in Sudermann's Colonel Scnwartze is not entirely foreign to his own country and his own experience.

Misha Auer, as the young lieutenant, clicks his heals and salutes his superiors in convincing fashion, while Leonard Mudie is particularly well suited for the role of the pastor who was neither a hypocrite nor a fool.

Kuno Franke said of "Magda" some years ago, "It is one of those literary thunderclouds which are charged with the social and intellectual electricity of a whole age." And, inspite of women's suffrage, the widespread influence of modernistic schools of thought, and the unhampered liberty of the rising generation, it brings up an issue which today is far from dead--the great thundercloud of 30 years ago is still anything but a pale glimmer of heat lightening on the distant horizon.