According to the actor Joseph Kessler, when he was engaged to play in Philadelphia, he had seen that Schneier also was engaged there.

Schneier alone recalls he only played in Philadelphia for a short time, and he then went over to play in Chicago in Glickman's Turn Hall, where he had been for engaged for an "entire ten dollars a week." "The business of the theatre was good, and the manager of the troupe went over with the troupe to play in the Desplaines Street Theatre, where Schneier played for four years. Due to a fire in the theatre, he went away to play in Chelsea, Boston, and he often would go to play with his wife Rae in Philadelphia, under the direction of Mike Thomashefsky.

Finally Schneier returned with his wife to New York, where he became engaged in legitimate theatre in the People's Theatre with Thomashefsky, and later with David Kessler.

About that time, Schneier recalls in his conversation with a representative of the "Forward":

"I had thought that I am already a great actor. The managers, however, had other opinions about me. Even when I was already received into Kessler's Thalia Theatre four years back [in 1908], they also hadn't given me any opportunities to play the roles in which I had felt that I knew I would excel in. Kessler had simply not believed in my talent."

But here it occurred that the American manager Hammerstein had seen Schneier act in "Madame X," and he engaged him to play a role in the English play, "Hans, the Flute Player." [1910] But as Schneier didn't like the role, he refused it and remained to play with Kessler.

Later Hammerstein engaged him for the English play, "The Master's Masterpiece." The play, however, was a failure, and Schneier returned to the Yiddish theatre. About this Schneier continues to recall:

"When Hammerstein, however, became interested in me, when I then had played on the English stage, then the Yiddish managers began to treat me differently."

A "Forward" contributor wrote such about Schneier's career:

"Schneier arrived in America twenty years ago and began to work in a shop of new pants (children's pants). At the same time he gave productions with several young folks, only for pleasure. Pundits then saw him play and expressed a very good opinion about him. He had a great desire for the stage and completely left the shop of the new pants. He toured across the province and played vaudeville. Ten years ago he became a member of the theatre union, and from then on he played in the big Yiddish theatres in New York.

In these ten years Schneier rose a great deal. He passed away at the age of thirty-seven. However, everyone thought of him as an old, good father of the Yiddish stage. Every important enterprise in the Yiddish theatre world was not done without Schneier.

He was very devoted to his playing skills. He took his profession as an actor very seriously. And for each role that he had played, he studied them well beforehand. He was familiar with the dramatic literature of every people, in all the languages, because he read a lot, and he had a good understanding of literature, chiefly he had love for Yiddish literature and had maintained a friendship with Yiddish writers.

Schneier contributed a lot, so that the Yiddish theatre should be beautiful, better and noble. As an intelligent person he was trusted by the managers to select plays, and he always sought the noble, the beautiful artists are confused and repressed. In the last years

For the writer of this number, Schneier used to complain that he can't stand the cheap atmosphere of the theatre: "I love the theatre more than my life -- he used to argue -- and that's why I want the theatre to be beautiful, elegant and literary."

He used to complain that the actor should seek cheap means to advertise himself, and the quiet, the noble artists are confused and repressed. In the most recent years, Schneier's spirit and taste about the theatre was victorious. The most interesting actors were acknowledged. They ran the theatre, and the air in the theatre became much cleaner and more pleasant.

In the summer months Schneier staged plays on the roof garden of Kessler's theatre. He added money to the performances, but that didn't suit him. His purpose was to stage more or less noble plays, and also to give an opportunity to young dramatists to stage their works.

(Among other plays, Schneier on the roof garden of Kessler's Second Avenue Theatre staged Leon Kustman's plays, "Der leykhtziniker mentsh" and "Der veg tsu frayhayt.")

Schneier played in various roles, mainly he excelled in hero roles. His figure was slender, graceful, and his voice was impressive and pleasant, and that suited him best to his hero roles.

As far as Schneier had a fine taste for the stage, the fact that he wrote himself (he took the content) can also serve as a one-act play "The Dream," which he used to play with his wife in enterprises for welfare purposes. "The Dream" is a noble plaything, and also a fine, morale about family life. The one-acter is literary, and always was strongly received by the public.

Schneier was a tall, healthy man. During the week of his illness, however, he changed so much that, surprisingly, when he was weighed, he only weighed sixty pounds. All the nervous upheaval weakened his heart and it burst. ... He was not only a capable actor, but also a strong personality. He quickly reached a high position ((end 2636)) in the Yiddish theatre. Everyone strongly loved him like a brother. In all the activities of Yiddish theatre life, Schneier was the leader, the giver. In Kessler's theatre, where he played in recent years, he was the one who read plays, doled out the roles, and always played the second role after Kessler, many times the lead role."

As far as how ambitious Schneier was as an actor, he was able to serve the fact that he challenged the great Yiddish actor of that era, Jacob P. Adler, when the latter explained in a conversation that the Yiddish theatre in recent years had not produced any new young talents, and there is no one to play the roles of the stars of that time.

From Adler's declaration there was evoked [a response from] the young actors of that time, Maurice Schwartz and Schneier, who published in the "Forward" an editorial letter, in which Schneier said:

"Adler's statement was responded to by the then young players Maurice Schwartz and Schneier, who printed in the "Forward" a letter to the editors, in which Schneier said: "Mr. Adler, why should you require to take advantage of the young actors and challenge them to a degree in such roles in which you have had the opportunity to play and study for so many years, and yet you know that you hardly manage to convince the world that no capable forces have come to the Yiddish stage, that said, that with the way you disappear from the stage, the Yiddish stage is over. And it is impossible that you, being an artist, should possess so little love for the stage, that you should want it to go down completely after you leave it, so I have another proposal for you.

It is here in the Yiddish repertoire, three roles that I maintain are art roles: "Uriel Mazik" from "God, Man and Devil," "Stanton" from "Di varhayt," "Hyutin" from "Di emese kraft." These roles were created, not for you, and not for me. Consequently, we both have no disadvantage (birthright). These roles do not require any particular youthful strength, it means that he has no disadvantage in this regard either, you have the great advantage (privilege, advantage) that you have more experience on the stage, but I had the opportunity to try my hand at these roles, and I am happy with the roles to measure whether new forces have arrived on the Yiddish stage. These were three various character roles that gives an actor had an opportunity to convince himself that he has the talent for the stage, that he possesses powers of compulsion, and power for expression, two great factors for an actor.

I hope that you will accept my proposal, you will benefit [from it]. You will be able to console yourself that the Yiddish stage is still not as poor in strength as you think, and it will teach you that you should not try to make a pile of all the Yiddish actors with one explanation, because you must not forget that not long ago, Moshe Zilberman was on the throne of the Yiddish stage, and you had a great struggle to convince the world that you are also such a great actor as him. But in case, Mr. Adler, is it really difficult for you to study, and you don't want to go on my proposal and actually want to challenge yourself in your roles, until I come. I will gladly study any of your roles, which one is suitable for me and let the world judge whether the Yiddish stage still has some young forces.

With friendly greetings,
Samuel S. Schneier

Several days later Adler answered the two young actors and pointed out that the tumult came out because of the chatter about the material status of the Yiddish theatre, which had a newspaperman ask him about how the economic conditions might become better if the young talent would be allowed to play Adler's roles, on which he had depended on, that there are no such young talents. Adler further answered Schneier as such:

"As for Mr. Schneier, I believe that it is just a boast for his colleagues and for the English stage, which has sent him to the Yiddish stage in the course of a couple of weeks. Also I will not measure myself with him either. Only if they (Schwartz and Schneier) really believe in themselves so much that they can play my roles, they should let the management know, and which day we will have free, we will let them play any of my roles."

In a necrology in "Di varhayt," there was said by others that in New York Schneier played for the first time in legitimate Yiddish theatre with Kessler in the Thalia Theatre. Later he was a member in the Executive Council of the Yiddish Actors' Union. He read much that had interested him about the arts and literature, loved to spend time in the circles of playwrights, dramatists and musicians, and drew serious testimony from the critics. He used to learn his roles by memory, without the need for any prompters.

About the last days of Schneier and his sudden illness and his passing, a "Forward" contributor wrote:

"Schneier was young and strong. He wasn't sick, but from a sudden attack of madness; his heart had suddenly given him trouble, and after lying in a sanatorium for a few days, he died early yesterday. A night before his misfortune, this writer spent with Schneier. This was a week ago on Thursday evening. Schneier had looked healthy and ... as always. He went off to Kessler's theatre to play in "Resurrection" by Tolstoy. He said goodbye to the writer, and there was no suspicion about him. In the morning, Friday afternoon, when he was on the stage for the rehearsal, the accident happened to him. He had an attack of madness, and just before the week, yesterday, he passed out." 

According to his wife Rae, who played in Kessler's theatre with him, later reported that he got up in the morning a week earlier and woke her up with a scream: "You know, we're both being thrown out of the theatre." At the same time, his eyes began to look wild, and his heart was beating strongly. She was very frightened by his appearance and his claim that he had no sons, because he was considered a star and he had no concern to get a suitable position. The woman reassured him and asked him not to go to the rehearsal, that he was not healthy. But he said that he felt well and went to the rehearsal. She watched him and saw that he was wearing his coat properly and that his steps were not safe. She was therefore also in the theatre soon. There she met him normally, as usual. He fasted and assured that he felt fine, but an hour later he was brought home from the theatre in a terrible condition, [with a] nervous breakdown. The eyes looked wild. He portrayed himself, threw and closed the whole world. Doctors stopped him. Until Sunday he was at home. The entire time he spoke about roles, plays, and claimed that "people wanted to take away his art." On Sunday he became extremely wild. We had to take him earlier to Bellevue Hospital, where he became calmer, but weaker, and therefore the Actors' Union took him out from there and transferred him to a private sanatorium. Passing the Second Avenue Theatre, he considered everything calmly, recognized everyone, but suddenly started shouting again: "My roles, my art, you want to take everything away from me. I will not let myself go." The doctors had to bind him to the sanatorium, due to his difficult condition, but nevertheless they had believed that by this week he would be calm, but by this week he had died.

Further, in the same Forward article it is written:

"The cause of Schneier's misfortune, one cannot definitely stay. that this is why people have assumed a role for him. The role of the current play in Kessler's Theatre is not so important, that such an actor as Schneier should take it strongly to heart. Schneier has already played very large roles. What can be his reason is an intrigue. Theatre fans carried gossip about Schneier to Kessler. Schneier found out about this, and it hurt him a lot. In recent times he always spoke about this gossip, and he took it very seriously, as he took everything very seriously. He had a soul that felt very deeply, and this entirely broke him."

Boris Thomashefsky's description can serve as a key to the tragedy of Schneier:

"Schneier played with me a season in the old People's Theatre, and I was strongly satisfied with him as an actor, but even more as a man. He was, as one says, a living human being, a good brother, amusing at the cafe table, witty in life and interesting in society, and I had love for him. When we came to spend time together, I loved his company. ... It was only a few months ago that we had the chance to meet with a well-known musician. ... Schneier also gave a speech (he really liked that). He began his speech by drinking too much champagne, and ended with Schiller, Goethe and Shakespeare, and also recited a few parables from the Talmud. Sitting and listening to Schneier's speech, a thought flashed through my mind that something was wrong with him. But I said to myself that this was the work of the champagne ... After the speech, people continued to have a good time, they sung and danced. Schneier still walked around, throwing a few jabs at the Yiddish managers. ... But I put all the blame on the innocent champagne, poor thing..."

The mystery that led to Schneier's tragedy is perhaps best clarified when one becomes acquainted with what Schneier himself wrote the night before he lost his mind. "Di varhayt," which published the article on the eve of his death, under the title, "The Bitter Thoughts of a Plagued Actor," mentioned that as one can see from the imprinted, he did not finish his writing and interrupted it in places.

Schneier's article went as such:

"To my 37th year, after so many years (on the stage), the following two questions plagued me:
To which party do I belong politically?
Do I really have talent as an actor?
I woke up in the middle of the night after an argument between myself and Kessler about a role which was taken by Schneier, due to two reasons. Through a caprice with his partner, or through the fact that he had planted the idea that I had intrigued against him in the theatre, wanting to take his place as the first actor. He didn't have any other reasons, since I was friends with him for as much as a star-actor-manager can be friends with his second man. The entire time that I was in New York, an account of six years. And many in the company explained to me and others to him that I should have played the role.

Of course, only an actor can feel what kind of aggravation this is and as a result of the aggravation, I couldn't sleep at night. Then the questions came to my mind: Who is guilty in this? What man has intrigued against me? Who brought it on that I should not get the role? Who can I blame for that? And nevertheless, being strongly convinced that many people I know have intrigued, many, even though they are friends with me, they are more friends with him, I have come to the conviction that I cannot blame these individuals, because everyone had their own interests. Consequently, I believe that only the circumstances are to blame, and knowing that you have many times, after I have complained about people, yet in my heart defended them, I have come to the conviction that politically I belong to the Socialists.

As to the question whether I have talent as an actor? Can I, after being considered as second man to Kessler for six years in the theatre and many times as the first (man), sometimes we are not given a definite answer. And I noticed these traces in Kessler, in Adler, in Blank, and in most of the actors that I know. If someone wanted to convince himself of the truth, he could turn the question however he wanted. Did he have a good role -- compliments, a good actor; a bad role, shh, stay quiet. They wrote in the newspapers: "Good, enemies say: "friendly," "bad," -- friends say: "A personal grudge." Now, in the beginning, when the actor goes into the union, the enemies say: "There he has a good friend." He will be engaged, say the enemies: "A person with influence there has schlepped him into the theatre." He gets a good role: "A friend of the star has influence and got him a role." The public hits him with a bravo, and the enemies say: "You know, the public doesn't understand theatre." The newspapers write that he is good, and the enemies say: "He understands how to be good with the writers." He becomes a second actor to the star and receives good roles, and his enemies say: "He eats fish (in theatre language, he flatters),' the star, and he also becomes a star. They say: "Well, yes, that he has a lease (tenant of a theatre). A great Yiddish actor dies, and his enemies say: "He was lucky."

You laugh?

Nevertheless you understand that not everyone who dies is great, not every one becomes a star, they don't always receive good reviews, they do not all receive bravos, not all the time to they receive good roles, not everyone all the time can be engaged, and it is not so easy to go into the union.

We will release those who are not yet in the union."

On how much recognition Schneier received in the Yiddish theatre and in the writer-world, it is best to see that the news about his death and his funeral became on the front page of the Yiddish press, and in addition to the obituaries and evaluation articles, there was also given a lot of space for images of his roles, of which one can see that he was especially popular in the roles of "Stanton" in Gordin's "Di varhayt," "The Student" in "Der griner melamed," "Polnishev" in Tolstoy's "Kreutzer Sonata," "Apolon" in Gordin's "Sappho," and "Uriel Mazik" in Gordin's "God, Man and Devil," but especially in the role from Gordin's "Shlomo khokhem." About the last role, it is said in the Forward:

"He loved the role remarkably and excelled in it. In the role from "Shlomo khokhem" Schneier presents himself as an artist, a scientist, who invented the power of steam, which drives a locomotive. An English lord invented the invention. The latter, the Lord, becomes famous and rich from the invention and he, the inventor, Solomon the Wise, is forgotten in poverty and loneliness. Solomon the Wise suffered so much from his friends, people laughed at him, mocked his machine, and finally when the machine brings happiness to humanity, the rich one enjoys it. Solomon the Wise is touched out of his senses and dies. The scene when Solomon the Wise is moved out of his mind used to be played by Schneier with a remarkable natural power."

And the writer ends with how remarkable it is that Schneier ended his life like his hero, Solomon the Wise, as a man who has lost his mind. 

Thousands of people came to his funeral. Not only from the Second Avenue Theatre, where the sad ceremony took place, which was overfilled, but thousands of people besieged the surrounding streets. Those who spoke at the funeral included representatives of the Yiddish newspapers and from the theatre unions. The speech by the playwright Reubele Weissman was very touching, whom the deceased had on the eve of his death, asked him to mourn for him.  Cantor Yosele Rosenblatt, together with the men's chorus of the Yiddish theatres, sang the appropriate prayers. In front of the casket went Jacob P. Adler, David Kessler and Boris Thomashefsky, and after them the other actors.

The funeral blocked the other Yiddish theatres and the orphanage at 57 East 7th Street, where Schneier was a member.

Schneier was brought to his eternal resting place at the cemetery plot of the "Adler's Young Men's [Independent Association]," where he was a member. [This burial plot is located at Washington Cemetery, Brooklyn, NY. -- ed.].

Thomashefsky tells how, at the time when Schneier was already lying dead, there was a meeting in the Actors' Union [building], and there they touched on the tragedy of Schneier and:

"Mr. David Kessler also said some words. He tried to explain to the actors and actresses how Schneier had performed at the last rehearsal, how he (Kessler) had noticed that Schneier he was not his usual self. Schneier lashed out at him with stinging words, complaints and pretensions, but he calmed him down and treated him like a gentleman."

Thomashefsky portrayed him at his funeral:

"The picture was terrible, the scene -- heartbreaking. On the same stage, only a few days ago, Schneier ambitiously performed his roles, laughed and won, got angry and rejoiced. That night was something else: a millionaire, a beggar, a king, a worker. Women gasped, girls smiled, men admired, and everyone applauded the great and insignificant roles that Schneier had played, and now, on the same stage, the same electrical lamps, among the same stage decorations that dazzled him and were a hopeful future, now Schneier lies under a black canopy. ... And great people make speeches, it spits over his dead body's lips, which only a few days ago, when Schneier was alive, spoke differently. I think to myself ... If during Schneier's lifetime you had said about him at least half, at least a small part, of what you are talking about now, perhaps Schneier would have achieved his ambitious goal and would have lived a happier life."

According to Maurice Schwartz, he said the following about Schneier's acting in the Lyric Theatre with Kessler:

"In the troupe Samuel Schneier, a young actor from the province, occupied an important position. He was a tall man with a black head of hair and long sideburns. Schneier knew English very well, and because of this, Kessler had the greatest respect for him. Just as Adler was a lover of Russian, so Kessler went out to speak English. Because of his debates with Kessler in English, Schneier's subject matter was favorable in Kessler's eyes, and he called him "Sam." This already meant that Schneier's picture would stand on the poster of the walls, and that he will receive the second role after Kessler, and so it indeed occurred. For "God, Man and Devil," Schneier received the role of "Uriel Mazik." Playing in New York after Morris Moshkovitch in the role of "Uriel Mazik," as they say in theatre language, needed under-girdles. ... Schneier was a diligent actor. ... He very much loved the theatre. Being American-born (?), he learned Yiddish well in order to play in the theatre. He was completely ambitious. He threw himself into "Uriel Mazik" with his entire being. He bit into the role until he bled. As they say in the theatre tongue, he had the prologue thundered with fire, with temperament. He did violence and screamed at God so loudly that Kessler heard his screams and his wardrobe room. Kessler shouted, violently: "Jesus Christ, Sam is alright, he delivers the goods" ("Jesus Christmas, Sam is great, he is doing the right thing.").

However, Schwartz tells further that when the Kessler Second Avenue Theatre opened, the role was not given to Schneier to play, but it was given to Samuel Tabachnikoff, because otherwise, he threatened that he would not let his wife [Nettie] play.

Celia Adler tells:

"Schneier was a very talented actor, with a serious attitude to the theatre. In the few short years he played in New York, he made himself a considerable name with the press and with the theatrical profession in general. He played for many years with Kessler, who valued him very highly. At those rehearsals (of Libin's play, "Day and Night". Certainly an error, because the play was staged in 1913.) Kessler very often showed dissatisfaction with the way Schneier tried out his role. He stopped him at certain scenes and had words with him almost at every rehearsal. Schneier listened to him very patiently every time and made the greatest effort to bring out what he thought Kessler wanted... because, as you already know, it was very difficult for Kessler to explain right off to an actor what he wanted. I noticed at the rehearsals that every day Schneier gave a different interpretation of the scenes with which Kessler was not satisfied. But Kessler still continued to berate him angrily. Schneier couldn't control himself any more. He became very excited and yelled out: "Why do you pick on me? You are remonstrating only with me. Nothing I do pleases you. All my efforts to satisfy you haven't helped me one bit. How much longer am I to be tortured? All the others please you? He, for instance, satisfies you? You haven't had a thing to say to him — haven't said a word to him." Kessler looked very mildly at Schneier and answered him straight back: "And if you complain to him, will it help me? I can get what I want from you -- don't you understand that?"

In Kessler's biography, M. Osherowitch writes:

"Also the deceased Samuel Schneier, Kessler's good student, had in the last years of his life, carried around an idea to found a theatre, where one can perform better, literary plays; and if he had not died so young, he would certainly have achieved something in this field, because like most good students who looked up to Kessler as their rabbi and took him as an example for themselves, Schneier was very ambitious and very energetic."

M. E. from Joseph Kessler.

• B. Gorin -- "History of Yiddish Theatre," Vol. II, p. 224.
  
  

• Samuel S. Schneier -- Tsvey yunge aktiorn entfern oyf Adler's tshalendzsh, "Forward," N. Y., 15 January 1913.
  
  

• [--] -- Mr. Adler entfert Shvarts'n un Shneyer'n, same, 18 January 1913.
  

• Jacob Kirschenbaum -- Kunst un kinstler, "Di Idishe velt," Cleveland, 13 July 1915.

• Sam Schneier -- Di bitere gedanken fun a geplonten aktor, "Di varhayt," N. Y., 10 November 1915.

• [--] -- Aktor Samuel Schneier geshtorbn, "Forward," N. Y. 13 November 1915.

• M. M. -- Der tragisher toyt fun dem shoyshpiler Schneier, dort, 13 November, 1915.

• [--] -- Samuel Schneier geshtorbn nokh a vokh leydn, "Di varhayt," N. Y., 13 November 1915.

• [--] -- Der troyer in der Idisher theater-velt, dort, 13 November 1915.

•  [--] -- Schneier hot dertselt vi azoy er iz gevoren az aktor, "Forward," N. Y., 16 November 1915.

• [--] -- Toyzenter mentshn bay der loy fun aktor Schneier, dort, 16 November 1915.

• Boris Thomashefsky -- Thomashefsky shraybt vegen Schneier's toit un vegen zayn loy, dort, 21 November, 1915.
  

• M. Osherowitch -- "David Kessler un Muni Veyzenfreynd," New York, 1930, p. 31.

• Maurice Schwartz -- Moris Shvarts dertseylt, "Forward," Los Angeles, 16 September 1941.
  

• Celia Adler -- "Tsili Adler derstseylt," New York, 1959, pp. 348-9.