The first few acts are not in any sense dramatic. Nothing happens. The characters are merely disclosed, and they talk. But, though nothing happens, the quiet of the home of the old watch-maker seems strained, and to be real must be broken by the entrance of the mob, the agents of violence.
The dialogue is specially interesting from a Zionist point of view, and we are glad to hear that an English translation of the play is soon to appear. Nachmann is impetuous, enthusiastic, but he speaks with conviction, strengthened by the action of the drama. Beresin presents the usual socialistic or radical argument and Boris echoes his sentiments. True to life, the author makes the girl sympathetic toward her father's idealism, Nachmann's enthusiasm, but she is in love with Ber-
esin, and that determines her position
Be a TR er ra en ea a TE: ee ee The actors who present this play have been received with special cordiality by the London Jewish community, for it is at a sacrifice of many interests that they have left their homes to present this study of Russian conditions to the outer world. M. Orlenoff heads the cast as Nachmann, and. though not a Jew, presents .a. fine study of the enthusiast. Mme. Nasimoff, who plays Leah, is an actress of no mean ability. She plays the part with a quiet reserve, which is admirably in contrast with her noble bearing in the last act. M. Or- loff played Leiser Frankel with patriarchal dignity. One of the pathetie minor characters is that of Schlome, the apprentice, a quiet, suffering, wistful boy, who sympathizes with Nachmann. The play is produced with seenie completeness.
“A Call to Israel’s Sons”
Awake! Oh Israel, from thy sleep,And turn a listening ear to Heaven.That bids thee rise from out the depthOf black despair, to help thy brethren.
The hour has come which calls thee forth.Oh harken to the trumpet soundYour chief hath raised, to prove your worth,Ere o'er his face you place a mound!
The blood-red sun of wrong has set,And love is wakening for thy race,The eyes that saw thy grief are wetWith pity, and with sorrowing grace.
Thy wanderings past, thy sufferings o'er,What land will then refuse to crownThy sons with laurel, gained when poor,For noble deeds for its renown?