In his artists and thinkers Hauptmann has illustrated the excessive nervousness of the age. Michael Kramer rises above it; Johannes Vockerat and Gabriel Schilling succumb. And beside these men there usually arises the sharply realised figure of the destroying woman--innocent and helpless in Kaethe Vockerat, trivial and obtuse in Alwine Lachmann, or impelled by a devouring sexual egotism in Eveline Schilling and Hanna Elias. Hauptmann's creative power culminates, however, as he approaches the common folk. These are of two kinds: the Berlin populace and the Silesian peasants. The world of the former in all its shrewdness, impudence and varied lusts he has set down with quiet and cruel exactness in _The Beaver Coat_ and _The Conflagration_. Mrs. Wolff, the protagonist of both plays, rises into a figure of epic breadth--a sordid and finally almost tragic embodiment of worldliness and cunning. When he approaches the peasants of his own countryside his touch is less hard, his method not quite so remorseless. And thus, perhaps, it comes about that in the face of these characters the art of criticism can only set down a confirmatory: "They are!" Old Deans in _The Heart of Midlothian_, Tulliver and the Dodson sisters in _The Mill on the Floss_ illustrate the nature of Hauptmann's incomparable projection of simple men and women. Here, in Dryden's phrase, is God's plenty: the morose pathos of Beipst (_Before Dawn_); the vanity and faithfulness of Friebe (_The Reconciliation_); the sad fatalism of Hauffe (_Drayman Henschel_); the instinctive kindliness of the nurse and the humorous fortitude of Mrs. Lehmann (_Lonely Lives_); the vulgar good nature of Liese Baensch (_Michael Kramer_); the trivial despair of Pauline and the primitive passion of Mrs. John (_The Rats_); the massive greatness of old Hilse's rock-like patience and the sudden impassioned protest of Luise (_The Weavers_); the deep trouble of Henschel's simple soul and the hunted purity of Rose Bernd--these qualities and these characters transcend the convincingness of mere art. Like the rain drenched mould, the black trees against the sky, the noise of the earth's waters, they are among the abiding elements of a native and familiar world. VII Such, then, is the naturalistic drama of Hauptmann. By employing the real speech of man, by emphasising being rather than action, by creating the very atmosphere and gesture of life, it succeeds in presenting characters whose vital truth achieves the intellectual beauty and moral energy of great art.