He had at his command an instrument of incomparable fineness and range in the language which he fashioned out the speech of the common people amongst whom he lived.

In his dramatic writings this language took on a kind of rhythm which had the effect of producing a certain remoteness of the highest possible artistic value.

The people of his imagination appear a little disembodied.

They talk with that straightforward and simple kind of innocency which makes strange and impressive the dialogue of Maeterlinck's earlier plays.

Through it, as Mr.Yeats has said, he saw the subject-matter of his art "with wise, clear-seeing, unreflecting eyes--and he preserved the innocence of good art in an age of reasons and purposes." He had no theory except of his art; no "ideas" and no "problems"; he did not wish to change anything or to reform anything; but he saw all his people pass by as before a window, and he heard their words.