It is an axiom that all things in the universe are interesting.  The word interesting means capable of awakening some activity of human mind; and there is no imaginable topic, whether pleasant or unpleasant, which is not, in one way, or another, capable of this effect.  But the activities of the human mind are various, and there are therefore several different sorts of interest.  The activity of mind awakened by music over waters is very different from that awakened by the binomial theorem.  Some things interest the intellect, others the emotions; and it is only things of prime importance that interest them both in equal measure.  Now if we compare the interest of pleasant and unpleasant topics, we shall see at once that the activity of mind awakened by the former is more complete than that awakened by the latter.  A pleasant topic not only interests the intellect but also elicits a positive response from the emotions; but most unpleasant topics are positively interesting to the intellect alone.  In so far as the emotions respond at all to an unpleasant topic, they respond usually with a negative activity.  Regarding a thing which is unpleasant, the healthy mind will feel aversion—­which is a negative emotion—­or else will merely think about it with no feeling whatsoever.  But regarding a thing which is pleasant, the mind may be stirred through the entire gamut of positive emotions, rising ultimately to that supreme activity which is Love.  This is, of course, the philosophic reason why the thinkers of pleasant thoughts and dreamers of beautiful dreams stand higher in history than those who have thought unpleasantness and have imagined woe.

Returning now to that clever title of Mr. Shaw’s, we may define an unpleasant play as one which interests the intellect without at the same time awakening a positive response from the emotions; and we may define a pleasant play as one which not only stimulates thought but also elicits sympathy.  To any one who has thoroughly considered the conditions governing theatric art, it should be evident a priori that pleasant plays are better suited for service in the theatre than unpleasant plays.  This truth is clearly illustrated by the facts of Mr. Shaw’s career.  As a matter of history, it will be remembered that his vogue in our theatres has been confined almost entirely to his pleasant plays.  All four of them have enjoyed a profitable run; and it is to Candida, the best of his pleasant plays, that, in America at least, he owes his fame.  Of the three unpleasant plays, The Philanderer has never been produced at all; Widower’s Houses has been given only in a series of special matinees; and Mrs. Warren’s Profession, though it was enormously advertised by the fatuous interference of the police, failed to interest the public when ultimately it was offered for a run.