FIFTY YEARS AGO naturalism was the great new movement in the English theater, and John Galsworthy was its dignified prophet. But yesterday's masterpieces have become today's museum-pieces, and Galsworthy's voice is stilled. If he had been a bad dramatist, there would be no critical problem, but his plays have the virtues-serious content, clear structure, interesting characters, brilliant individual scenes-that usually guarantee long life in the theater; some of his scenes, such as that of Falder's isolation in Justice, are as good now as they ever were. As a whole, however, his work has not worn well, and what astonished its first audiences now often seems pallid or melodramatic or naive. My purpose is to suggest that this lack of durability is the fault not of Galsworthy's incompetence but of his strict adherence to naturalist theory.