alism; before them is the new
life of freedom, of revolt against outworn beliefs and conventions--a
life of great difficulty, mayhap, but a life cheered by a noble
ideal--an ideal in whose realization the socialist materialists believe
as fully, as passionately as the ancient Hebrews believed in the
fulfilment of the Messianic prophecies.

Theirs is a hard case. Without ideals they cannot, in any worthy sense,
live. The only possible ideal, that even the keen eyes of so shrewd an
observer as Mr. Street can perceive, is the ideal of Socialism. But they
cannot accept this ideal without abandoning much, I do not say that is
dear to them, but much that by habit and tradition has become part and
parcel of their intellectual being.

If they decide to go forward into the New, the old world of dolls'
houses must become a strange land to them. In the difficulties and
trials of the new life, they cannot send back for aid to the old world,
which will have become a world of strangers to them. Nora's woman's
instinct did not fail her here; when Torvald asked if he could send help
to her in case of need, her unhesitating reply was, "No, I say. I take
nothing from strangers."

Far better is the case of the workingman attracted by the socialist
ideal. The Nihilism of Socialism has no deterrent terrors for him, for,
as Karl Marx said long ago, "he has nothing to lose but his chains, and
a whole world to gain." He has long since lost all interest in religion;
the factory by enlisting his wife and children as workers has already
destroyed his home; and to him the State means nothing but the club of
the policeman, the injunction of the judge, and the rifle of the
militiaman.

But for the man of the "educated and professional classes" leaving the
doll's house is indeed a difficult task. For its performance three
things are requisite: a free and open mind, courage, and a vivid
imagination. The Russian genius, Peshkoff (Maxim Gorky), did it, and did
it with relative ease because he was a workingman _before_ he became an
educated man. For the same reason, though in a less degree, Jack London
has also done it successfully, though here and there he still lapses
into the doll's mode of thought. The sex-interest in the latter part of
"The Sea Wolf" is obviously treated from the dolls' point of view; but
it should be remembered that Mr. London necessarily expected the
majority of the purchasers of "The Sea Wolf" to be dolls. But, in spite
of t