Perhaps Galsworthy has made a mistake in choosing Falder as his victim. The man is of a type which would go under with a very slight push, weak and changeable, an extreme case. On the other hand, he shows the effect of Law on the poor and weak it is ostensibly there to protect. He is one of those for whom Justice, as understood in this country, and indeed most countries, makes no provision. He is a special case, and it is characteristic of systems and institutions that they ignore—are to a certain extent forced to ignore—the special case, which is almost always better worth considering than the general mass to which the system is adapted. Galsworthy suggests no remedy, no alternative. He does not hint anywhere that Falder has been badly treated. He has been treated as well as Justice will allow; as many men are the victims of injustice, so is he the victim of justice itself.
The play is not quite so well constructed as Strife. The first and second acts cover mostly the same ground, and the action is not so compact or the climax so inevitable. On the other hand, there are some fine scenes, and some particularly arresting characters. Cokeson, the little kind-hearted, humble-minded clerk, is a lovable person, and the relations between Falder and Ruth Honeywill are studied with exquisite delicacy and pathos. The scene of Falder’s arrest, of his trial, and that terrible silent scene, in which not a word is spoken, but in which we are shown far more powerfully than by any words, the horror, the misery, the madness, of solitary confinement—are all memorable, and make us forgive a certain scrappiness in their succession. The play ends on a fine note of tragedy, when Falder, re-arrested for obtaining employment by a forged character, throws himself downstairs rather than go back to gaol:
[Ruth drops on her knees by the body.]
Ruth [in a whisper]. What is it? He’s not breathing. [She crouches over him.] My dear! my pretty!.... [Leaping to her feet.] No, no! No, no! He’s dead.
Cokeson [stealing forward, in a hoarse voice]. There, there, poor dear woman.
[Ruth faces round at him.]
Cokeson. No one’ll touch him now! Never again! He’s safe with gentle Jesus.
[Ruth stands as though turned to stone in the doorway, staring at Cokeson, who, bending humbly before her, holds out his hand as one would to a lost dog.]
Justice and Strife both deal with social and economic questions in the larger sense, but in the majority of the plays the issues are more personal. The Silver Box and The Eldest Son, for instance, both show the different standards of morality expected from the poor and from the rich. The Fugitive is a study of the helplessness of a beautiful woman, not specially trained, when she is driven to make her own way in life. Joy shows the essential selfishness which we all bring into our relations both with one another and with problems of conduct.
The Silver Box runs Strife close as Galsworthy’s masterpiece. There is a strong resemblance between its central idea and that of The Eldest Son, a far inferior play. In The Silver Box the charwoman’s husband is sent to gaol for stealing, whereas the M.P.’s son, who has also committed a theft, under far more unforgivable circumstances, escapes because of his superior position and wealth.... In The Eldest Son, the poor gamekeeper is threatened with dismissal if he will not marry the girl he has betrayed, while the eldest son of the house brings his father’s wrath upon his head for standing by the lady’s maid he has put in the same position.