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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Life of Friedrich Schiller + Comprehending an Examination of His Works + +Author: Thomas Carlyle + +Release Date: October 27, 2007 [EBook #23209] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF FRIEDRICH SCHILLER *** + + + + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Henry Craig, Irma Spehar and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h2>THOMAS CARLYLE'S<br /><br /></h2> + +<h1>COLLECTED WORKS.</h1> + + +<p class="center" style="font-weight: bold; padding-top: 4em; text-indent: 0em">LIBRARY EDITION.</p> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 2em; letter-spacing: 0.25ex; text-indent: 0em"><i>IN THIRTY VOLUMES.</i></p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 4em; text-indent: 0em">VOL. V.</p> + +<h3>LIFE OF FRIEDRICH SCHILLER.</h3> + + +<p class="publisher">LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL (LIMITED),<br /> +<small>11 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT +GARDEN.</small></p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/frontispiece.jpg"><img src="images/frontispiece_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + +<p class="caption"> +From a Miniature in the Possession of the Hofdame Fräulein von Kalb, +in Berlin, taken while Schiller lived with the Körners in Dresden.<br /><br /> + +London. Chapman & Hall.</p> + + + +<h1><span style="font-size: 50%">THE</span></h1> + +<h1>LIFE OF FRIEDRICH SCHILLER<br /><br /> + + +<span style="font-size: 40%">COMPREHENDING</span><br /><br /> + +<span style="font-size: 70%">AN EXAMINATION OF HIS WORKS.</span></h1> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 4em; font-size: 80%; text-indent: 0em">BY</p> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 1em; font-size: 110%; text-indent: 0em">THOMAS CARLYLE.</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 2em; font-size: 70%; text-indent: 0em">Quique pii vates et Phœbo digna locuti. <span class="smcap" style="padding-left: 2em">Virgil.</span></p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 80%; text-indent: 0em">[1825.]</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 2em; text-indent: 0em"><i>WITH SUPPLEMENT OF 1872.</i></p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 4em; text-indent: 0em; letter-spacing: 0.15ex"><small>LONDON:</small><br /> CHAPMAN AND HALL (LIMITED).</p> + + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + +<tr><td> </td><td class="pageno"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href="#PREFACE_TO_SECOND_EDITION">Preface to Second Edition</a></span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#PART_I">PART I.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#SCHILLERS_YOUTH"><span class="smcap">Schiller's Youth.</span> (1759-1784)</a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#PART_II">PART II.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#FROM_SCHILLERS_SETTLEMENT_AT_MANNHEIM_TO_HIS"><span class="smcap">From his Settlement at Mannheim to his Settlement at +Jena.</span> (1784-1790.)</a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#PART_III">PART III.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#FROM_HIS_SETTLEMENT_AT_JENA_TO_HIS_DEATH"><span class="smcap">From his Settlement at Jena to his Death.</span> (1790-1805.)</a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#SUPPLEMENT_OF_1872">SUPPLEMENT OF 1872.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#HERR_SAUPES_BOOK"><span class="smcap">Schiller's Parentage, Boyhood, and Youth</span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#APPENDIX_I">APPENDIX I.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#NO_1_PAGE_31"><span class="smcap">No.</span> 1. <span class="smcap">Daniel Schubart</span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_341">341</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#NO_2_PAGE_33"><span style="padding-left: 1.8em">2. <span class="smcap">Letters of Schiller</span></span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_354">354</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#NO_5_PAGE_114"><span style="padding-left: 1.8em">3. <span class="smcap">Friendship with Goethe</span></span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_371">371</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#NO_4_PAGE_125"><span style="padding-left: 1.8em">4. <span class="smcap">Death of Gustavus Adolphus</span></span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="part"><a href="#APPENDIX_II">APPENDIX II.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#APPENDIX_II"><span class="smcap">Goethe's Introduction to German Translation of this Life +of Schiller</span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_379">379</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="chapter"><a href="#SUMMARY_AND_INDEX"><span class="smcap">Summary and Index</span></a></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_417">417</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PREFACE_TO_SECOND_EDITION" id="PREFACE_TO_SECOND_EDITION"></a>PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span><br /> +<small>[1845.]</small></h2> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">The</span> excuse for reprinting this somewhat insignificant Book is, that +certain parties, of the pirate species, were preparing to reprint it +for me. There are books, as there are horses, which a judicious owner, +on fair survey of them, might prefer to adjust by at once shooting +through the head: but in the case of books, owing to the pirate +species, that is not possible. Remains therefore that at least dirty +paper and errors of the press be guarded against; that a poor Book, +which has still to walk this world, do walk in clean linen, so to +speak, and pass its few and evil days with no blotches but its own +adhering to it.</p> + +<p>There have been various new <i>Lives</i> of Schiller since this one first +saw the light;—great changes in our notions, informations, in our +relations to the Life of Schiller, and to other things connected +therewith, during that long time! Into which I could not in the least +enter on the present occasion. Such errors, one or two, as lay +corrigible on the surface, I have pointed out by here and there a Note +as I read; but of errors that lay deeper there could no charge be +taken: to break the surface, to tear-up the old substance, and model +<i>it</i> anew, was a task that lay far from me,—that would have been +frightful to me. What was written remains written; and the Reader, by +way of constant commentary, when needed, has to say to himself, "It +was written Twenty years ago." For newer instruction on Schiller's +Biography he can consult the <i>Schillers Leben</i> of Madame von Wolzogen, +which Goethe once called a <i>Schiller Redivivus</i>; the <i>Briefwechsel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> +zwischen Schiller und Goethe</i>;—or, as a summary of the whole, and the +readiest inlet to the general subject for an English reader, Sir +Edward Bulwer's <i>Sketch of Schiller's Life</i>, a vigorous and lively +piece of writing, prefixed to his <i>Translations from Schiller</i>.</p> + +<p>The present little Book is very imperfect:—but it pretends also to be +very harmless; it can innocently instruct those who are more ignorant +than itself! To which ingenuous class, according to their wants and +tastes, let it, with all good wishes, and hopes to meet afterwards in +fruitfuler provinces, be heartily commended.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">T. Carlyle.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><i>London, 7th May 1845.</i> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></h2> + + +<h3><a name="SCHILLERS_YOUTH" id="SCHILLERS_YOUTH"></a>SCHILLER'S YOUTH (1759-1784).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></h3> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_FIRST" id="PART_FIRST"></a>PART FIRST.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +<br /> +<small>[1759-1784.]</small></h2> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">Among</span> the writers of the concluding part of the last century there is +none more deserving of our notice than Friedrich Schiller. +Distinguished alike for the splendour of his intellectual faculties, +and the elevation of his tastes and feelings, he has left behind him +in his works a noble emblem of these great qualities: and the +reputation which he thus enjoys, and has merited, excites our +attention the more, on considering the circumstances under which it +was acquired. Schiller had peculiar difficulties to strive with, and +his success has likewise been peculiar. Much of his life was deformed +by inquietude and disease, and it terminated at middle age; he +composed in a language then scarcely settled into form, or admitted to +a rank among the cultivated languages of Europe: yet his writings are +remarkable for their extent and variety as well as their intrinsic +excellence; and his own countrymen are not his only, or perhaps his +principal admirers. It is difficult to collect or interpret the +general voice; but the World, no less than Germany, seems already to +have dignified him with the reputation of a classic; to have enrolled +him among that select number whose works belong not wholly to any age +or nation, but who, having instructed their own contemporaries, are +claimed as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> instructors by the great family of mankind, and set apart +for many centuries from the common oblivion which soon overtakes the +mass of authors, as it does the mass of other men.</p> + +<p>Such has been the high destiny of Schiller. His history and character +deserve our study for more than one reason. A natural and harmless +feeling attracts us towards such a subject; we are anxious to know how +so great a man passed through the world, how he lived, and moved, and +had his being; and the question, if properly investigated, might yield +advantage as well as pleasure. It would be interesting to discover by +what gifts and what employment of them he reached the eminence on +which we now see him; to follow the steps of his intellectual and +moral culture; to gather from his life and works some picture of +himself. It is worth inquiring, whether he, who could represent noble +actions so well, did himself act nobly; how those powers of intellect, +which in philosophy and art achieved so much, applied themselves to +the every-day emergencies of life; how the generous ardour, which +delights us in his poetry, displayed itself in the common intercourse +between man and man. It would at once instruct and gratify us if we +could understand him thoroughly, could transport ourselves into his +circumstances outward and inward, could see as he saw, and feel as he +felt.</p> + +<p>But if the various utility of such a task is palpable enough, its +difficulties are not less so. We should not lightly think of +comprehending the very simplest character, in all its bearings; and it +might argue vanity to boast of even a common acquaintance with one +like Schiller's. Such men as he are misunderstood by their daily +companions, much more by the distant observer, who gleans his +information from scanty records, and casual notices of characteristic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +events, which biographers are often too indolent or injudicious to +collect, and which the peaceful life of a man of letters usually +supplies in little abundance. The published details of Schiller's +history are meagre and insufficient; and his writings, like those of +every author, can afford but a dim and dubious copy of his mind. Nor +is it easy to decipher even this, with moderate accuracy. The haze of +a foreign language, of foreign manners, and modes of thinking strange +to us, confuses and obscures the sight, often magnifying what is +trivial, softening what is rude, and sometimes hiding or distorting +what is beautiful. To take the dimensions of Schiller's mind were a +hard enterprise, in any case; harder still with these impediments.</p> + +<p>Accordingly we do not, in this place, pretend to attempt it: we have +no finished portrait of his character to offer, no formal estimate of +his works. It will be enough for us if, in glancing over his life, we +can satisfy a simple curiosity, about the fortunes and chief +peculiarities of a man connected with us by a bond so kindly as that +of the teacher to the taught, the giver to the receiver of mental +delight; if, in wandering through his intellectual creation, we can +enjoy once more the magnificent and fragrant beauty of that fairy +land, and express our feelings, where we do not aim at judging and +deciding.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Johann Christoph Friedrich Schiller was a native of Marbach, a small +town of Würtemberg, situated on the banks of the Neckar. He was born +on the 10th of November 1759,—a few months later than our own Robert +Burns. Schiller's early culture was favoured by the dispositions, but +obstructed by the outward circumstances of his parents. Though removed +above the pressure of poverty, their station was dependent and +fluctuating; it involved a frequent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> change of place and plan. Johann +Caspar Schiller, the father, had been a surgeon in the Bavarian army; +he served in the Netherlands during the Succession War. After his +return home to Würtemberg, he laid aside the medical profession, +having obtained a commission of ensign and adjutant under his native +Prince. This post he held successively in two regiments; he had +changed into the second, and was absent on active duty when Friedrich +was born. The Peace of Paris put an end to his military employment; +but Caspar had shown himself an intelligent, unassuming and useful +man, and the Duke of Würtemberg was willing to retain him in his +service. The laying-out of various nurseries and plantations in the +pleasure-grounds of Ludwigsburg and Solitude was intrusted to the +retired soldier, now advanced to the rank of captain: he removed from +one establishment to another, from time to time; and continued in the +Duke's pay till death. In his latter years he resided chiefly at +Ludwigsburg.</p> + +<p>This mode of life was not the most propitious for educating such a boy +as Friedrich; but the native worth of his parents did more than +compensate for the disadvantages of their worldly condition and their +limited acquirements in knowledge. The benevolence, the modest and +prudent integrity, the true devoutness of these good people shone +forth at an after period, expanded and beautified in the character of +their son; his heart was nourished by a constant exposure to such +influences, and thus the better part of his education prospered well. +The mother was a woman of many household virtues; to a warm affection +for her children and husband, she joined a degree of taste and +intelligence which is of much rarer occurrence. She is said to have +been a lover of poetry; in particular an admiring reader of Utz and +Gellert, writers whom it is creditable for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> one in her situation to +have relished.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Her kindness and tenderness of heart peculiarly +endeared her to Friedrich. Her husband appears to have been a person +of great probity and meekness of temper, sincerely desirous to approve +himself a useful member of society, and to do his duty conscientiously +to all men. The seeds of many valuable qualities had been sown in him +by nature; and though his early life had been unfavourable for their +cultivation, he at a late period laboured, not without success, to +remedy this disadvantage. Such branches of science and philosophy as +lay within his reach, he studied with diligence, whenever his +professional employments left him leisure; on a subject connected with +the latter he became an author.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> But what chiefly distinguished him +was the practice of a sincere piety, which seems to have diffused +itself over all his feelings, and given to his clear and honest +character that calm elevation which, in such a case, is its natural +result. As his religion mingled itself with every motive and action of +his life, the wish which in all his wanderings lay nearest his heart, +the wish for the education of his son, was likely to be deeply +tinctured with it. There is yet preserved, in his handwriting, a +prayer composed in advanced age, wherein he mentions how, at the +child's birth, he had entreated the great Father of all, "to supply in +strength of spirit what must needs be wanting in outward instruction." +The gray-haired man, who had lived to see the maturity of his boy, +could now express his solemn thankfulness, that "God had heard the +prayer of a mortal."</p> + +<p>Friedrich followed the movements of his parents for some time; and had +to gather the elements of learning from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>various masters. Perhaps it +was in part owing to this circumstance, that his progress, though +respectable, or more, was so little commensurate with what he +afterwards became, or with the capacities of which even his earliest +years gave symptoms. Thoughtless and gay, as a boy is wont to be, he +would now and then dissipate his time in childish sports, forgetful +that the stolen charms of ball and leapfrog must be dearly bought by +reproaches: but occasionally he was overtaken with feelings of deeper +import, and used to express the agitations of his little mind in words +and actions, which were first rightly interpreted when they were +called to mind long afterwards. His schoolfellows can <i>now</i> recollect +that even his freaks had sometimes a poetic character; that a certain +earnestness of temper, a frank integrity, an appetite for things grand +or moving, was discernible across all the caprices of his boyhood. +Once, it is said, during a tremendous thunderstorm, his father missed +him in the young group within doors; none of the sisters could tell +what was become of Fritz, and the old man grew at length so anxious +that he was forced to go out in quest of him. Fritz was scarcely past +the age of infancy, and knew not the dangers of a scene so awful. His +father found him at last, in a solitary place of the neighbourhood, +perched on the branch of a tree, gazing at the tempestuous face of the +sky, and watching the flashes as in succession they spread their lurid +gleam over it. To the reprimands of his parent, the whimpering truant +pleaded in extenuation, "that the lightning was very beautiful, and +that he wished to see where it was coming from!"—Such anecdotes, we +have long known, are in themselves of small value: the present one has +the additional defect of being somewhat dubious in respect of +authenticity. We have ventured to give it, as it came to us, +notwithstanding. The picture of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> the boy Schiller, contemplating the +thunder, is not without a certain interest, for such as know the man.</p> + +<p>Schiller's first teacher was Moser, pastor and schoolmaster in the +village of Lorch, where the parents resided from the sixth to the +ninth year of their son. This person deserves mention for the +influence he exerted on the early history of his pupil: he seems to +have given his name to the Priest 'Moser' in the <i>Robbers</i>; his +spiritual calling, and the conversation of his son, himself afterwards +a preacher, are supposed to have suggested to Schiller the idea of +consecrating himself to the clerical profession. This idea, which laid +hold of and cherished some predominant though vague propensities of +the boy's disposition, suited well with the religious sentiments of +his parents, and was soon formed into a settled purpose. In the public +school at Ludwigsburg, whither the family had now removed, his studies +were regulated with this view; and he underwent, in four successive +years, the annual examination before the Stuttgard Commission, to +which young men destined for the Church are subjected in that country. +Schiller's temper was naturally devout; with a delicacy of feeling +which tended towards bashfulness and timidity, there was mingled in +him a fervid impetuosity, which was ever struggling through its +concealment, and indicating that he felt deeply and strongly, as well +as delicately. Such a turn of mind easily took the form of religion, +prescribed to it by early example and early affections, as well as +nature. Schiller looked forward to the sacred profession with +alacrity: it was the serious daydream of all his boyhood, and much of +his youth. As yet, however, the project hovered before him at a great +distance, and the path to its fulfilment offered him but little +entertainment. His studies did not seize his attention firmly; he +followed them from a sense of duty, not of pleasure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> Virgil and +Horace he learned to construe accurately; but is said to have taken no +deep interest in their poetry. The tenderness and meek beauty of the +first, the humour and sagacity and capricious pathos of the last, the +matchless elegance of both, would of course escape his inexperienced +perception; while the matter of their writings must have appeared +frigid and shallow to a mind so susceptible. He loved rather to +meditate on the splendour of the Ludwigsburg theatre, which had +inflamed his imagination when he first saw it in his ninth year, and +given shape and materials to many of his subsequent reveries.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Under +these circumstances, his progress, with all his natural ability, could +not be very striking; the teachers did not fail now and then to visit +him with their severities; yet still there was a negligent success in +his attempts, which, joined to his honest and vivid temper, made men +augur well of him. The Stuttgard Examinators have marked him in their +records with the customary formula of approval, or, at worst, of +toleration. They usually designate him as 'a boy of good hope,' <i>puer +bonæ spei</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>This good hope was not, however, destined to be realised in the way +they expected: accidents occurred which changed the direction of +Schiller's exertions, and threatened for a time to prevent the success +of them altogether. The Duke of Würtemberg had lately founded a Free +Seminary for certain branches of professional education: it was first +set up at Solitude, one of his country residences; and had now been +transferred to Stuttgard, where, under an improved form, and with the +name of <i>Karls-schule</i>, we believe it still exists. The Duke proposed +to give the sons of his military officers a preferable claim to the +benefits of this institution; and having formed a good opinion both of +Schiller and his father, he invited the former to profit by this +opportunity. The offer occasioned great embarrassment: the young man +and his parents were alike determined in favour of the Church, a +project with which this new one was inconsistent. Their embarrassment +was but increased, when the Duke, on learning the nature of their +scruples, desired them to think well before they decided. It was out +of fear, and with reluctance that his proposal was accepted. Schiller +enrolled himself in 1773; and turned, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>with a heavy heart, from +freedom and cherished hopes, to Greek, and seclusion, and Law.</p> + +<p>His anticipations proved to be but too just: the six years which he +spent in this establishment were the most harassing and comfortless of +his life. The Stuttgard system of education seems to have been formed +on the principle, not of cherishing and correcting nature, but of +rooting it out, and supplying its place with something better. The +process of teaching and living was conducted with the stiff formality +of military drilling; every thing went on by statute and ordinance, +there was no scope for the exercise of free-will, no allowance for the +varieties of original structure. A scholar might possess what +instincts or capacities he pleased; the 'regulations of the school' +took no account of this; he must fit himself into the common mould, +which, like the old Giant's bed, stood there, appointed by superior +authority, to be filled alike by the great and the little. The same +strict and narrow course of reading and composition was marked out for +each beforehand, and it was by stealth if he read or wrote any thing +beside. Their domestic economy was regulated in the same spirit as +their preceptorial: it consisted of the same sedulous exclusion of all +that could border on pleasure, or give any exercise to choice. The +pupils were kept apart from the conversation or sight of any person +but their teachers; none ever got beyond the precincts of despotism to +snatch even a fearful joy; their very amusements proceeded by the word +of command.</p> + +<p>How grievous all this must have been, it is easy to conceive. To +Schiller it was more grievous than to any other. Of an ardent and +impetuous yet delicate nature, whilst his discontentment devoured him +internally, he was too modest and timid to give it the relief of +utterance by deeds or words. Locked up within himself, he suffered +deeply, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> without complaining. Some of his letters written during +this period have been preserved: they exhibit the ineffectual +struggles of a fervid and busy mind veiling its many chagrins under a +certain dreary patience, which only shows them more painfully. He +pored over his lexicons and grammars, and insipid tasks, with an +artificial composure; but his spirit pined within him like a +captive's, when he looked forth into the cheerful world, or +recollected the affection of parents, the hopes and frolicsome +enjoyments of past years. The misery he endured in this severe and +lonely mode of existence strengthened or produced in him a habit of +constraint and shyness, which clung to his character through life.</p> + +<p>The study of Law, for which he had never felt any predilection, +naturally grew in his mind to be the representative of all these +evils, and his distaste for it went on increasing. On this point he +made no secret of his feelings. One of the exercises, yearly +prescribed to every scholar, was a written delineation of his own +character, according to his own views of it, to be delivered publicly +at an appointed time: Schiller, on the first of these exhibitions, +ventured to state his persuasion, that he was not made to be a jurist, +but called rather by his inclinations and faculties to the clerical +profession. This statement, of course, produced no effect; he was +forced to continue the accustomed course, and his dislike for Law kept +fast approaching to absolute disgust. In 1775, he was fortunate enough +to get it relinquished, though at the expense of adopting another +employment, for which, in different circumstances, he would hardly +have declared himself. The study of Medicine, for which a new +institution was about this time added to the Stuttgard school, had no +attractions for Schiller: he accepted it only as a galling servitude +in exchange for one more gall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>ing. His mind was bent on higher +objects; and he still felt all his present vexations aggravated by the +thought, that his fairest expectations from the future had been +sacrificed to worldly convenience, and the humblest necessities of +life.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the youth was waxing into manhood, and the fetters of +discipline lay heavier on him, as his powers grew stronger, and his +eyes became open to the stirring and variegated interests of the +world, now unfolding itself to him under new and more glowing colours. +As yet he contemplated the scene only from afar, and it seemed but the +more gorgeous on that account. He longed to mingle in its busy +current, and delighted to view the image of its movements in his +favourite poets and historians. Plutarch and Shakspeare;<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> the +writings of Klopstock, Lessing, Garve, Herder, Gerstenberg, Goethe, +and a multitude of others, which marked the dawning literature of +Germany, he had studied with a secret avidity: they gave him vague +ideas of men and life, or awakened in him splendid visions of literary +glory. Klopstock's <i>Messias</i>, combined with his own religious +tendencies, had early turned him to sacred poetry: before the end of +his fourteenth year, he had finished what he called an 'epic poem,' +entitled <i>Moses</i>. The extraordinary popularity of Gerstenberg's +<i>Ugolino</i>, and Goethe's <i>Götz von Berlichingen</i>, next directed his +attention to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> drama; and as admiration in a mind like his, full of +blind activity and nameless aspirings, naturally issues in imitation, +he plunged with equal ardour into this new subject, and produced his +first tragedy, <i>Cosmo von Medicis</i>, some fragments of which he +retained and inserted in his <i>Robbers</i>. A mass of minor performances, +preserved among his papers, or published in the Magazines of the time, +serve sufficiently to show that his mind had already dimly discovered +its destination, and was striving with a restless vehemence to reach +it, in spite of every obstacle.</p> + +<p>Such obstacles were in his case neither few nor small. Schiller felt +the mortifying truth, that to arrive at the ideal world, he must first +gain a footing in the real; that he might entertain high thoughts and +longings, might reverence the beauties of nature and grandeur of mind, +but was born to toil for his daily bread. Poetry he loved with the +passionateness of a first affection; but he could not live by it; he +honoured it too highly to wish to live by it. His prudence told him +that he must yield to stern necessity, must 'forsake the balmy climate +of Pindus for the Greenland of a barren and dreary science of terms;' +and he did not hesitate to obey. His professional studies were +followed with a rigid though reluctant fidelity; it was only in +leisure gained by superior diligence that he could yield himself to +more favourite pursuits. Genius was to serve as the ornament of his +inferior qualities, not as an excuse for the want of them.</p> + +<p>But if, when such sacrifices were required, it was painful to comply +with the dictates of his own reason, it was still more so to endure +the harsh and superfluous restrictions of his teachers. He felt it +hard enough to be driven from the enchantments of poetry by the dull +realities of duty; but it was intolerable and degrading to be +hemmed-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>in still farther by the caprices of severe and formal +pedagogues. Schiller brooded gloomily over the constraints and +hardships of his situation. Many plans he formed for deliverance. +Sometimes he would escape in secret to catch a glimpse of the free and +busy world to him forbidden: sometimes he laid schemes for utterly +abandoning a place which he abhorred, and trusting to fortune for the +rest. Often the sight of his class-books and school-apparatus became +irksome beyond endurance; he would feign sickness, that he might be +left in his own chamber to write poetry and pursue his darling studies +without hindrance. Such artifices did not long avail him; the masters +noticed the regularity of his sickness, and sent him tasks to be done +while it lasted. Even Schiller's patience could not brook this; his +natural timidity gave place to indignation; he threw the paper of +exercises at the feet of the messenger, and said sternly that "<i>here</i> +he would choose his own studies."</p> + +<p>Under such corroding and continual vexations an ordinary spirit would +have sunk at length, would have gradually given up its loftier +aspirations, and sought refuge in vicious indulgence, or at best have +sullenly harnessed itself into the yoke, and plodded through +existence, weary, discontented, and broken, ever casting back a +hankering look upon the dreams of youth, and ever without power to +realise them. But Schiller was no ordinary character, and did not act +like one. Beneath a cold and simple exterior, dignified with no +artificial attractions, and marred in its native amiableness by the +incessant obstruction, the isolation and painful destitutions under +which he lived, there was concealed a burning energy of soul, which no +obstruction could extinguish. The hard circumstances of his fortune +had prevented the natural development of his mind;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> his faculties had +been cramped and misdirected; but they had gathered strength by +opposition and the habit of self-dependence which it encouraged. His +thoughts, unguided by a teacher, had sounded into the depths of his +own nature and the mysteries of his own fate; his feelings and +passions, unshared by any other heart, had been driven back upon his +own, where, like the volcanic fire that smoulders and fuses in secret, +they accumulated till their force grew irresistible.</p> + +<p>Hitherto Schiller had passed for an unprofitable, a discontented and a +disobedient Boy: but the time was now come when the gyves of +school-discipline could no longer cripple and distort the giant might +of his nature: he stood forth as a Man, and wrenched asunder his +fetters with a force that was felt at the extremities of Europe. The +publication of the <i>Robbers</i> forms an era not only in Schiller's +history, but in the Literature of the World; and there seems no doubt +that, but for so mean a cause as the perverted discipline of the +Stuttgard school, we had never seen this tragedy. Schiller commenced +it in his nineteenth year; and the circumstances under which it was +composed are to be traced in all its parts. It is the production of a +strong untutored spirit, consumed by an activity for which there is no +outlet, indignant at the barriers which restrain it, and grappling +darkly with the phantoms to which its own energy thus painfully +imprisoned gives being. A rude simplicity, combined with a gloomy and +overpowering force, are its chief characteristics; they remind us of +the defective cultivation, as well as of the fervid and harassed +feelings of its author. Above all, the latter quality is visible; the +tragic interest of the <i>Robbers</i> is deep throughout, so deep that +frequently it borders upon horror. A grim inexpiable Fate is made the +ruling principle: it envelops and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> overshadows the whole; and under +its louring influence, the fiercest efforts of human will appear but +like flashes that illuminate the wild scene with a brief and terrible +splendour, and are lost forever in the darkness. The unsearchable +abysses of man's destiny are laid open before us, black and profound +and appalling, as they seem to the young mind when it first attempts +to explore them: the obstacles that thwart our faculties and wishes, +the deceitfulness of hope, the nothingness of existence, are sketched +in the sable colours so natural to the enthusiast when he first +ventures upon life, and compares the world that is without him to the +anticipations that were within.</p> + +<p>Karl von Moor is a character such as young poets always delight to +contemplate or delineate; to Schiller the analogy of their situations +must have peculiarly recommended him. Moor is animated into action by +feelings similar to those under which his author was then suffering +and longing to act. Gifted with every noble quality of manhood in +overflowing abundance, Moor's first expectations of life, and of the +part he was to play in it, had been glorious as a poet's dream. But +the minor dexterities of management were not among his endowments; in +his eagerness to reach the goal, he had forgotten that the course is a +labyrinthic maze, beset with difficulties, of which some may be +surmounted, some can only be evaded, many can be neither. Hurried on +by the headlong impetuosity of his temper, he entangles himself in +these perplexities; and thinks to penetrate them, not by skill and +patience, but by open force. He is baffled, deceived, and still more +deeply involved; but injury and disappointment exasperate rather than +instruct him. He had expected heroes, and he finds mean men; friends, +and he finds smiling traitors to tempt him aside, to profit by his +aberrations, and lead him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> onward to destruction: he had dreamed of +magnanimity and every generous principle, he finds that prudence is +the only virtue sure of its reward. Too fiery by nature, the intensity +of his sufferings has now maddened him still farther: he is himself +incapable of calm reflection, and there is no counsellor at hand to +assist him; none, whose sympathy might assuage his miseries, whose +wisdom might teach him to remedy or to endure them. He is stung by +fury into action, and his activity is at once blind and tremendous. +Since the world is not the abode of unmixed integrity, he looks upon +it as a den of thieves; since its institutions may obstruct the +advancement of worth, and screen delinquency from punishment, he +regards the social union as a pestilent nuisance, the mischiefs of +which it is fitting that he in his degree should do his best to +repair, by means however violent. Revenge is the mainspring of his +conduct; but he ennobles it in his own eyes, by giving it the colour +of a disinterested concern for the maintenance of justice,—the +abasement of vice from its high places, and the exaltation of +suffering virtue. Single against the universe, to appeal to the +primary law of the stronger, to 'grasp the scales of Providence in a +mortal's hand,' is frantic and wicked; but Moor has a force of soul +which makes it likewise awful. The interest lies in the conflict of +this gigantic soul against the fearful odds which at length overwhelm +it, and hurry it down to the darkest depths of ruin.</p> + +<p>The original conception of such a work as this betrays the +inexperience no less than the vigour of youth: its execution gives a +similar testimony. The characters of the piece, though traced in +glowing colours, are outlines more than pictures: the few features we +discover in them are drawn with elaborate minuteness; but the rest are +wanting. Every thing indicates the condition of a keen and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> powerful +intellect, which had studied men in books only; had, by +self-examination and the perusal of history, detected and strongly +seized some of the leading peculiarities of human nature; but was yet +ignorant of all the minute and more complex principles which regulate +men's conduct in actual life, and which only a knowledge of living men +can unfold. If the hero of the play forms something like an exception +to this remark, he is the sole exception, and for reasons alluded to +above: his character resembles the author's own. Even with Karl, the +success is incomplete: with the other personages it is far more so. +Franz von Moor, the villain of the Piece, is an amplified copy of Iago +and Richard; but the copy is distorted as well as amplified. There is +no air of reality in Franz: he is a villain of theory, who studies to +accomplish his object by the most diabolical expedients, and soothes +his conscience by arguing with the priest in favour of atheism and +materialism; not the genuine villain of Shakspeare and Nature, who +employs his reasoning powers in creating new schemes and devising new +means, and conquers remorse by avoiding it,—by fixing his hopes and +fears on the more pressing emergencies of worldly business. So +reflective a miscreant as Franz could not exist: his calculations +would lead him to honesty, if merely because it was the best policy.</p> + +<p>Amelia, the only female in the piece, is a beautiful creation; but as +imaginary as her persecutor Franz. Still and exalted in her warm +enthusiasm, devoted in her love to Moor, she moves before us as the +inhabitant of a higher and simpler world than ours. "<i>He</i> sails on +troubled seas," she exclaims, with a confusion of metaphors, which it +is easy to pardon, "he sails on troubled seas, Amelia's love sails +with him; he wanders in pathless deserts, Amelia's love makes the +burning sand grow green beneath him, and the stunted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> shrubs to +blossom; the south scorches his bare head, his feet are pinched by the +northern snow, stormy hail beats round his temples—Amelia's love +rocks him to sleep in the storm. Seas, and hills, and horizons, are +between us; but souls escape from their clay prisons, and meet in the +paradise of love!" She is a fair vision, the <i>beau idéal</i> of a poet's +first mistress; but has few mortal lineaments.</p> + +<p>Similar defects are visible in almost all the other characters. Moor, +the father, is a weak and fond old man, who could have arrived at gray +hairs in such a state of ignorance nowhere but in a work of fiction. +The inferior banditti are painted with greater vigour, yet still in +rugged and ill-shapen forms; their individuality is kept up by an +extravagant exaggeration of their several peculiarities. Schiller +himself pronounced a severe but not unfounded censure, when he said of +this work, in a maturer age, that his <i>chief</i> fault was in 'presuming +to delineate men two years before he had met one.'</p> + +<p>His skill in the art of composition surpassed his knowledge of the +world; but that too was far from perfection. Schiller's style in the +<i>Robbers</i> is partly of a kind with the incidents and feelings which it +represents; strong and astonishing, and sometimes wildly grand; but +likewise inartificial, coarse, and grotesque. His sentences, in their +rude emphasis, come down like the club of Hercules; the stroke is +often of a crushing force, but its sweep is irregular and awkward. +When Moor is involved in the deepest intricacies of the old question, +necessity and free will, and has convinced himself that he is but an +engine in the hands of some dark and irresistible power, he cries out: +"Why has my Perillus made of me a brazen bull to roast men in my +glowing belly?" The stage-direction says, 'shaken with horror:' no +wonder that he shook!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>Schiller has admitted these faults, and explained their origin, in +strong and sincere language, in a passage of which we have already +quoted the conclusion. 'A singular miscalculation of nature,' he says, +'had combined my poetical tendencies with the place of my birth. Any +disposition to poetry did violence to the laws of the institution +where I was educated, and contradicted the plan of its founder. For +eight years my enthusiasm struggled with military discipline; but the +passion for poetry is vehement and fiery as a first love. What +discipline was meant to extinguish, it blew into a flame. To escape +from arrangements that tortured me, my heart sought refuge in the +world of ideas, when as yet I was unacquainted with the world of +realities, from which iron bars excluded me. I was unacquainted with +men; for the four hundred that lived with me were but repetitions of +the same creature, true casts of one single mould, and of that very +mould which plastic nature solemnly disclaimed. * * * Thus +circumstanced, a stranger to human characters and human fortunes, to +hit the medium line between angels and devils was an enterprise in +which I necessarily failed. In attempting it, my pencil necessarily +brought out a monster, for which by good fortune the world had no +original, and which I would not wish to be immortal, except to +perpetuate an example of the offspring which Genius in its unnatural +union with Thraldom may give to the world. I allude to the +<i>Robbers</i>.'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p>Yet with all these excrescences and defects, the unbounded popularity +of the <i>Robbers</i> is not difficult to account for. To every reader, the +excitement of emotion must be a chief consideration; to the mass of +readers it is the sole one: and the grand secret of moving others is, +that the poet be himself moved. We have seen how well Schiller's +temper and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>circumstances qualified him to fulfil this condition: +treatment, not of his choosing, had raised his own mind into something +like a Pythian frenzy; and his genius, untrained as it was, sufficed +to communicate abundance of the feeling to others. Perhaps more than +abundance: to judge from our individual impression, the perusal of the +<i>Robbers</i> produces an effect powerful even to pain; we are absolutely +wounded by the catastrophe; our minds are darkened and distressed, as +if we had witnessed the execution of a criminal. It is in vain that we +rebel against the inconsistencies and crudities of the work: its +faults are redeemed by the living energy that pervades it. We may +exclaim against the blind madness of the hero; but there is a towering +grandeur about him, a whirlwind force of passion and of will, which +catches our hearts, and puts the scruples of criticism to silence. The +most delirious of enterprises is that of Moor, but the vastness of his +mind renders even that interesting. We see him leagued with +desperadoes directing their savage strength to actions more and more +audacious; he is in arms against the conventions of men and the +everlasting laws of Fate: yet we follow him with anxiety through the +forests and desert places, where he wanders, encompassed with peril, +inspired with lofty daring, and torn by unceasing remorse; and we wait +with awe for the doom which he has merited and cannot avoid. Nor amid +all his frightful aberrations do we ever cease to love him: he is an +'archangel though in ruins;' and the strong agony with which he feels +the present, the certainty of that stern future which awaits him, +which his own eye never loses sight of, makes us lenient to his +crimes. When he pours forth his wild recollections, or still wilder +forebodings, there is a terrible vehemence in his expressions, which +overpowers us, in spite both of his and their extravagance. The scene +on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> hills beside the Danube, where he looks at the setting sun, +and thinks of old hopes, and times 'when he could not sleep if his +evening prayer had been forgotten,' is one, with all its +improprieties, that ever clings to the memory. "See," he passionately +continues, "all things are gone forth to bask in the peaceful beam of +the spring: why must I alone inhale the torments of hell out of the +joys of heaven? That all should be so happy, all so married together +by the spirit of peace! The whole world one family, its Father above; +that Father not <i>mine</i>! I alone the castaway, I alone struck out from +the company of the just; not for me the sweet name of child, never for +me the languishing look of one whom I love; never, never, the +embracing of a bosom friend! Encircled with murderers; serpents +hissing around me; riveted to vice with iron bonds; leaning on the +bending reed of vice over the gulf of perdition; amid the flowers of +the glad world, a howling Abaddon! Oh, that I might return into my +mother's womb;—that I might be born a beggar! I would never more—O +Heaven, that I could be as one of these day-labourers! Oh, I would +toil till the blood ran down from my temples, to buy myself the +pleasure of one noontide sleep, the blessing of a single tear. There +<i>was</i> a time too, when I could weep—O ye days of peace, thou castle +of my father, ye green lovely valleys!—O all ye Elysian scenes of my +childhood! will ye never come again, never with your balmy sighing +cool my burning bosom? Mourn with me, Nature! They will never come +again, never cool my burning bosom with their balmy sighing. They are +gone! gone! and may not return!"</p> + +<p>No less strange is the soliloquy where Moor, with the instrument of +self-destruction in his hands, the 'dread key that is to shut behind +him the prison of life, and to unbolt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> before him the dwelling of +eternal night,'—meditates on the gloomy enigmas of his future +destiny. Soliloquies on this subject are numerous,—from the time of +Hamlet, of Cato, and downwards. Perhaps the worst of them has more +ingenuity, perhaps the best of them has less awfulness than the +present. St. Dominick himself might shudder at such a question, with +such an answer as this: "What if thou shouldst send me companionless +to some burnt and blasted circle of the universe; which thou hast +banished from thy sight; where the lone darkness and the motionless +desert were my prospects—forever? I would people the silent +wilderness with my fantasies; I should have Eternity for leisure to +examine the perplexed image of the universal woe."</p> + +<p>Strength, wild impassioned strength, is the distinguishing quality of +Moor. All his history shows it; and his death is of a piece with the +fierce splendour of his life. Having finished the bloody work of +crime, and magnanimity, and horror, he thinks that, for himself, +suicide would be too easy an exit. He has noticed a poor man toiling +by the wayside, for eleven children; a great reward has been promised +for the head of the Robber; the gold will nourish that poor drudge and +his boys, and Moor goes forth to give it them. We part with him in +pity and sorrow; looking less at his misdeeds than at their frightful +expiation.</p> + +<p>The subordinate personages, though diminished in extent and varied in +their forms, are of a similar quality with the hero; a strange mixture +of extravagance and true energy. In perusing the work which represents +their characters and fates, we are alternately shocked and inspired; +there is a perpetual conflict between our understanding and our +feelings. Yet the latter on the whole come off victorious. The +<i>Robbers</i> is a tragedy that will long find readers to astonish, and, +with all its faults, to move. It stands, in our imagi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>nation, like +some ancient rugged pile of a barbarous age; irregular, fantastic, +useless; but grand in its height and massiveness and black frowning +strength. It will long remain a singular monument of the early genius +and early fortune of its author.</p> + +<p>The publication of such a work as this naturally produced an +extraordinary feeling in the literary world. Translations of the +<i>Robbers</i> soon appeared in almost all the languages of Europe, and +were read in all of them with a deep interest, compounded of +admiration and aversion, according to the relative proportions of +sensibility and judgment in the various minds which contemplated the +subject. In Germany, the enthusiasm which the <i>Robbers</i> excited was +extreme. The young author had burst upon the world like a meteor; and +surprise, for a time, suspended the power of cool and rational +criticism. In the ferment produced by the universal discussion of this +single topic, the poet was magnified above his natural dimensions, +great as they were: and though the general sentence was loudly in his +favour, yet he found detractors as well as praisers, and both equally +beyond the limits of moderation.</p> + +<p>One charge brought against him must have damped the joy of literary +glory, and stung Schiller's pure and virtuous mind more deeply than +any other. He was accused of having injured the cause of morality by +his work; of having set up to the impetuous and fiery temperament of +youth a model of imitation which the young were too likely to pursue +with eagerness, and which could only lead them from the safe and +beaten tracks of duty into error and destruction. It has even been +stated, and often been repeated since, that a practical +exemplification of this doctrine occurred, about this time, in +Germany. A young nobleman, it was said, of the fairest gifts and +prospects, had cast away all these ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>vantages; betaken himself to the +forests, and, copying Moor, had begun a course of active +operations,—which, also copying Moor, but less willingly, he had +ended by a shameful death.</p> + +<p>It can now be hardly necessary to contradict these theories; or to +show that none but a candidate for Bedlam as well as Tyburn could be +seduced from the substantial comforts of existence, to seek +destruction and disgrace, for the sake of such imaginary grandeur. The +German nobleman of the fairest gifts and prospects turns out, on +investigation, to have been a German blackguard, whom debauchery and +riotous extravagance had reduced to want; who took to the highway, +when he could take to nothing else,—not allured by an ebullient +enthusiasm, or any heroical and misdirected appetite for sublime +actions, but driven by the more palpable stimulus of importunate duns, +an empty purse, and five craving senses. Perhaps in his later days, +this philosopher <i>may</i> have referred to Schiller's tragedy, as the +source from which he drew his theory of life: but if so, we believe he +was mistaken. For characters like him, the great attraction was the +charms of revelry, and the great restraint, the gallows,—before the +period of Karl von Moor, just as they have been since, and will be to +the end of time. Among motives like these, the influence of even the +most malignant book could scarcely be discernible, and would be little +detrimental, if it were.</p> + +<p>Nothing, at any rate, could be farther from Schiller's intention than +such a consummation. In his preface, he speaks of the moral effects of +the <i>Robbers</i> in terms which do honour to his heart, while they show +the inexperience of his head. Ridicule, he signifies, has long been +tried against the wickedness of the times, whole cargoes of hellebore +have been expended,—in vain; and now, he thinks, recourse must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> be +had to more pungent medicines. We may smile at the simplicity of this +idea; and safely conclude that, like other specifics, the present one +would fail to produce a perceptible effect: but Schiller's vindication +rests on higher grounds than these. His work has on the whole +furnished nourishment to the more exalted powers of our nature; the +sentiments and images which he has shaped and uttered, tend, in spite +of their alloy, to elevate the soul to a nobler pitch: and this is a +sufficient defence. As to the danger of misapplying the inspiration he +communicates, of forgetting the dictates of prudence in our zeal for +the dictates of poetry, we have no great cause to fear it. Hitherto, +at least, there has always been enough of dull reality, on every side +of us, to abate such fervours in good time, and bring us back to the +most sober level of prose, if not to sink us below it. We should thank +the poet who performs such a service; and forbear to inquire too +rigidly whether there is any 'moral' in his piece or not. The writer +of a work, which interests and excites the spiritual feelings of men, +has as little need to justify himself by showing how it exemplifies +some wise saw or modern instance, as the doer of a generous action has +to demonstrate its merit, by deducing it from the system of +Shaftesbury, or Smith, or Paley, or whichever happens to be the +favourite system for the age and place. The instructiveness of the +one, and the virtue of the other, exist independently of all systems +or saws, and in spite of all.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">But the tragedy of the <i>Robbers</i> produced some inconveniences of a +kind much more sensible than these its theoretical mischiefs. We have +called it the signal of Schiller's deliverance from school tyranny and +military constraint; but its operation in this respect was not +immediate; at first it seemed to involve him more deeply and +dangerously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> than before. He had finished the original sketch of it in +1778; but for fear of offence, he kept it secret till his medical +studies were completed.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> These, in the mean time, he had pursued +with sufficient assiduity to merit the usual honours;<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> in 1780, he +had, in consequence, obtained the post of surgeon to the regiment +<i>Augé</i>, in the Würtemberg army. This advancement enabled him to +complete his project, to print the <i>Robbers</i> at his own expense, not +being able to find any bookseller that would undertake it. The nature +of the work, and the universal interest it awakened, drew attention to +the private circumstances of the author, whom the <i>Robbers</i>, as well +as other pieces of his writing, that had found their way into the +periodical publications of the time, sufficiently showed to be no +common man. Many grave persons were offended at the vehement +sentiments expressed in the <i>Robbers</i>; and the unquestioned ability +with which these extravagances were expressed, but made the matter +worse. To Schiller's superiors, above all, such things were +inconceivable: he might perhaps be a very great genius, but was +certainly a dangerous servant for his Highness the Grand Duke of +Würtemberg. Officious people <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>mingled themselves in the affair: nay, +the graziers of the Alps were brought to bear upon it. The Grisons +magistrates, it appeared, had seen the book: and were mortally huffed +at being there spoken of, according to a Swabian adage, as <i>common +highwaymen</i>.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> They complained in the <i>Hamburg Correspondent</i>; and a +sort of Jackal, at Ludwigsburg, one Walter, whose name deserves to be +thus kept in mind, volunteered to plead their cause before the Grand +Duke.</p> + +<p>Informed of all these circumstances, the Grand Duke expressed his +disapprobation of Schiller's poetical labours in the most unequivocal +terms. Schiller was at length summoned to appear before him; and it +then turned out, that his Highness was not only dissatisfied with the +moral or political errors of the work, but scandalised moreover at its +want of literary merit. In this latter respect, he was kind enough to +proffer his own services. But Schiller seems to have received the +proposal with no sufficient gratitude; and the interview passed +without advantage to either party. It terminated in the Duke's +commanding Schiller to abide by medical subjects: or at least to +beware of writing any more poetry, without submitting it to <i>his</i> +inspection.</p> + +<p>We need not comment on this portion of the Grand Duke's history: his +treatment of Schiller has already been sufficiently avenged. By the +great body of mankind, his name will be recollected, chiefly, if at +all, for the sake of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> the unfriended youth whom he now schooled so +sharply, and afterwards afflicted so cruelly: it will be recollected +also with the angry triumph which we feel against a shallow and +despotic 'noble of convention,' who strains himself to oppress 'one of +nature's nobility,' submitted by blind chance to his dominion, +and—finds that he cannot! All this is far more than the Prince of +Würtemberg deserves. Of limited faculties, and educated in the French +principles of taste, then common to persons of his rank in Germany, he +had perused the <i>Robbers</i> with unfeigned disgust; he could see in the +author only a misguided enthusiast, with talents barely enough to make +him dangerous. And though he never fully or formally retracted this +injustice, he did not follow it up; when Schiller became known to the +world at large, the Duke ceased to persecute him. The father he still +kept in his service, and nowise molested.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, however, various mortifications awaited Schiller. It +was in vain that he discharged the humble duties of his station with +the most strict fidelity, and even, it is said, with superior skill: +he was a suspected person, and his most innocent actions were +misconstrued, his slightest faults were visited with the full measure +of official severity. His busy imagination aggravated the evil. He had +seen poor Schubart<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> wearing out his tedious eight years of durance +in the fortress of Asperg, because he had been 'a rock of offence to +the powers that were.' The fate of this unfortunate author appeared to +Schiller a type of his own. His free spirit shrank at the prospect of +wasting its strength in strife against the pitiful constraints, the +minute and endless persecutions of men who knew him not, yet had his +fortune in their hands; the idea of dungeons and jailors haunted and +tortured his mind; and the means of escaping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> them, the renunciation +of poetry, the source of all his joy, if likewise of many woes, the +radiant guiding-star of his turbid and obscure existence, seemed a +sentence of death to all that was dignified, and delightful, and worth +retaining, in his character. Totally ignorant of what is called the +world; conscious too of the might that slumbered in his soul, and +proud of it, as kings are of their sceptres; impetuous when roused, +and spurning unjust restraint; yet wavering and timid from the +delicacy of his nature, and still more restricted in the freedom of +his movements by the circumstances of his father, whose all depended +on the pleasure of the court, Schiller felt himself embarrassed, and +agitated, and tormented in no common degree. Urged this way and that +by the most powerful and conflicting impulses; driven to despair by +the paltry shackles that chained him, yet forbidden by the most sacred +considerations to break them, he knew not on what he should resolve; +he reckoned himself 'the most unfortunate of men.'</p> + +<p>Time at length gave him the solution; circumstances occurred which +forced him to decide. The popularity of the <i>Robbers</i> had brought him +into correspondence with several friends of literature, who wished to +patronise the author, or engage him in new undertakings. Among this +number was the Freiherr von Dalberg, superintendent of the theatre at +Mannheim, under whose encouragement and countenance Schiller +remodelled the <i>Robbers</i>, altered it in some parts, and had it brought +upon the stage in 1781. The correspondence with Dalberg began in +literary discussions, but gradually elevated itself into the +expression of more interesting sentiments. Dalberg loved and +sympathised with the generous enthusiast, involved in troubles and +perplexities which his inexperience was so little adequate to thread: +he gave him advice and assistance; and Schiller repaid this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> favour +with the gratitude due to his kind, his first, and then almost his +only benefactor. His letters to this gentleman have been preserved, +and lately published; they exhibit a lively picture of Schiller's +painful situation at Stuttgard, and of his unskilful as well as eager +anxiety to be delivered from it.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> His darling project was that +Dalberg should bring him to Mannheim, as theatrical poet, by +permission of the Duke: at one time he even thought of turning player.</p> + +<p>Neither of these projects could take immediate effect, and Schiller's +embarrassments became more pressing than ever. With the natural +feeling of a young author, he had ventured to go in secret, and +witness the first representation of his tragedy, at Mannheim. His +incognito did not conceal him; he was put under arrest during a week, +for this offence: and as the punishment did not deter him from again +transgressing in a similar manner, he learned that it was in +contemplation to try more rigorous measures with him. Dark hints were +given to him of some exemplary as well as imminent severity: and +Dalberg's aid, the sole hope of averting it by quiet means, was +distant and dubious. Schiller saw himself reduced to extremities. +Beleaguered with present distresses, and the most horrible +forebodings, on every side; roused to the highest pitch of +indignation, yet forced to keep silence, and wear the face of +patience, he could endure this maddening constraint no longer. He +resolved to be free, at whatever risk; to abandon advantages which he +could not buy at such a price; to quit his step-dame home, and go +forth, though friendless and alone, to seek his fortune in the great +market of life. Some foreign Duke or Prince was arriving at Stuttgard; +and all the people were in movement, occupied with seeing the +spectacle of his entrance: Schiller seized this opportunity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +retiring from the city, careless whither he went, so he got beyond the +reach of turnkeys, and Grand Dukes, and commanding officers. It was in +the month of October 1782.</p> + +<p>This last step forms the catastrophe of the publication of the +<i>Robbers</i>: it completed the deliverance of Schiller from the grating +thraldom under which his youth had been passed, and decided his +destiny for life. Schiller was in his twenty-third year when he left +Stuttgard. He says 'he went empty away,—empty in purse and hope.' The +future was indeed sufficiently dark before him. Without patrons, +connexions, or country, he had ventured forth to the warfare on his +own charges; without means, experience, or settled purpose, it was +greatly to be feared that the fight would go against him. Yet his +situation, though gloomy enough, was not entirely without its brighter +side. He was now a free man, free, however poor; and his strong soul +quickened as its fetters dropped off, and gloried within him in the +dim anticipation of great and far-extending enterprises. If, cast too +rudely among the hardships and bitter disquietudes of the world, his +past nursing had not been delicate, he was already taught to look upon +privation and discomfort as his daily companions. If he knew not how +to bend his course among the perplexed vicissitudes of society, there +was a force within him which would triumph over many difficulties; and +a 'light from Heaven' was about his path, which, if it failed to +conduct him to wealth and preferment, would keep him far from baseness +and degrading vices. Literature, and every great and noble thing which +the right pursuit of it implies, he loved with all his heart and all +his soul: to this inspiring object he was henceforth exclusively +devoted; advancing towards this, and possessed of common necessaries +on the humblest scale, there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> was little else to tempt him. His life +might be unhappy, but would hardly be disgraceful.</p> + +<p>Schiller gradually felt all this, and gathered comfort, while better +days began to dawn upon him. Fearful of trusting himself so near +Stuttgard as at Mannheim, he had passed into Franconia, and was living +painfully at Oggersheim, under the name of Schmidt: but Dalberg, who +knew all his distresses, supplied him with money for immediate wants; +and a generous lady made him the offer of a home. Madam von Wolzogen +lived on her estate of Bauerbach, in the neighbourhood of Meinungen; +she knew Schiller from his works, and his intimacy with her sons, who +had been his fellow-students at Stuttgard. She invited him to her +house; and there treated him with an affection which helped him to +forget the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.</p> + +<p>Under this hospitable roof, Schiller had leisure to examine calmly the +perplexed and dubious aspect of his affairs. Happily his character +belonged not to the whining or sentimental sort: he was not of those, +in whom the pressure of misfortune produces nothing but unprofitable +pain; who spend, in cherishing and investigating and deploring their +miseries, the time which should be spent in providing a relief for +them. With him, strong feeling was constantly a call to vigorous +action: he possessed in a high degree the faculty of conquering his +afflictions, by directing his thoughts, not to maxims for enduring +them, or modes of expressing them with interest, but to plans for +getting rid of them; and to this disposition or habit,—too rare among +men of genius, men of a much higher class than mere sentimentalists, +but whose sensibility is out of proportion with their inventiveness or +activity,—we are to attribute no small influence in the fortunate +conduct of his subsequent life. With such a turn of mind, Schiller, +now that he was at length master of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> his own movements, could not long +be at a loss for plans or tasks. Once settled at Bauerbach, he +immediately resumed his poetical employments; and forgot, in the +regions of fancy, the vague uncertainties of his real condition, or +saw prospects of amending it in a life of literature. By many safe and +sagacious persons, the prudence of his late proceedings might be more +than questioned; it was natural for many to forbode that one who left +the port so rashly, and sailed with such precipitation, was likely to +make shipwreck ere the voyage had extended far: but the lapse of a few +months put a stop to such predictions. A year had not passed since his +departure, when Schiller sent forth his <i>Verschwörung des Fiesco</i> and +<i>Kabale und Liebe</i>; tragedies which testified that, dangerous and +arduous as the life he had selected might be, he possessed resources +more than adequate to its emergencies. <i>Fiesco</i> he had commenced +during the period of his arrest at Stuttgard; it was published, with +the other play, in 1783; and soon after brought upon the Mannheim +theatre, with universal approbation.</p> + +<p>It was now about three years since the composition of the <i>Robbers</i> +had been finished; five since the first sketch of it had been formed. +With what zeal and success Schiller had, in that interval, pursued the +work of his mental culture, these two dramas are a striking proof. The +first ardour of youth is still to be discerned in them; but it is now +chastened by the dictates of a maturer reason, and made to animate the +products of a much happier and more skilful invention. Schiller's +ideas of art had expanded and grown clearer, his knowledge of life had +enlarged. He exhibits more acquaintance with the fundamental +principles of human nature, as well as with the circumstances under +which it usually displays itself; and far higher and juster views of +the manner in which its manifestations should be represented.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the <i>Conspiracy of Fiesco</i> we have to admire not only the energetic +animation which the author has infused into all his characters, but +the distinctness with which he has discriminated, without aggravating +them; and the vividness with which he has contrived to depict the +scene where they act and move. The political and personal relations of +the Genoese nobility; the luxurious splendour, the intrigues, the +feuds, and jarring interests, which occupy them, are made visible +before us: we understand and may appreciate the complexities of the +conspiracy; we mingle, as among realities, in the pompous and imposing +movements which lead to the catastrophe. The catastrophe itself is +displayed with peculiar effect. The midnight silence of the sleeping +city, interrupted only by the distant sounds of watchmen, by the low +hoarse murmur of the sea, or the stealthy footsteps and disguised +voice of Fiesco, is conveyed to our imagination by some brief but +graphic touches; we seem to stand in the solitude and deep stillness +of Genoa, awaiting the signal which is to burst so fearfully upon its +slumber. At length the gun is fired; and the wild uproar which ensues +is no less strikingly exhibited. The deeds and sounds of violence, +astonishment and terror; the volleying cannon, the heavy toll of the +alarm-bells, the acclamation of assembled thousands, 'the voice of +Genoa speaking with Fiesco,'—all is made present to us with a force +and clearness, which of itself were enough to show no ordinary power +of close and comprehensive conception, no ordinary skill in arranging +and expressing its results.</p> + +<p>But it is not this felicitous delineation of circumstances and visible +scenes that constitutes our principal enjoyment. The faculty of +penetrating through obscurity and confusion, to seize the +characteristic features of an object, abstract or material; of +producing a lively description in the latter case,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> an accurate and +keen scrutiny in the former, is the essential property of intellect, +and occupies in its best form a high rank in the scale of mental +gifts: but the creative faculty of the poet, and especially of the +dramatic poet, is something superadded to this; it is far rarer, and +occupies a rank far higher. In this particular, <i>Fiesco</i>, without +approaching the limits of perfection, yet stands in an elevated range +of excellence. The characters, on the whole, are imagined and +portrayed with great impressiveness and vigour. Traces of old faults +are indeed still to be discovered: there still seems a want of pliancy +about the genius of the author; a stiffness and heaviness in his +motions. His sublimity is not to be questioned; but it does not always +disdain the aid of rude contrasts and mere theatrical effect. He +paints in colours deep and glowing, but without sufficient skill to +blend them delicately: he amplifies nature more than purifies it; he +omits, but does not well conceal the omission. <i>Fiesco</i> has not the +complete charm of a true though embellished resemblance to reality; +its attraction rather lies in a kind of colossal magnitude, which +requires it, if seen to advantage, to be viewed from a distance. Yet +the prevailing qualities of the piece do more than make us pardon such +defects. If the dramatic imitation is not always entirely successful, +it is never very distant from success; and a constant flow of powerful +thought and sentiment counteracts, or prevents us from noticing, the +failure. We find evidence of great philosophic penetration, great +resources of invention, directed by a skilful study of history and +men; and everywhere a bold grandeur of feeling and imagery gives life +to what study has combined. The chief incidents have a dazzling +magnificence; the chief characters, an aspect of majesty and force +which corresponds to it. Fervour of heart, capaciousness of intellect +and imagination, present<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> themselves on all sides: the general effect +is powerful and exalting.</p> + +<p>Fiesco himself is a personage at once probable and tragically +interesting. The luxurious dissipation, in which he veils his daring +projects, softens the rudeness of that strength which it half +conceals. His immeasurable pride expands itself not only into a +disdain of subjection, but also into the most lofty acts of +magnanimity: his blind confidence in fortune seems almost warranted by +the resources which he finds in his own fearlessness and imperturbable +presence of mind. His ambition participates in the nobleness of his +other qualities; he is less anxious that his rivals should yield to +him in power than in generosity and greatness of character, attributes +of which power is with him but the symbol and the fit employment. +Ambition in Fiesco is indeed the common wish of every mind to diffuse +its individual influence, to see its own activity reflected back from +the united minds of millions: but it is the common wish acting on no +common man. He does not long to rule, that he may sway other wills, as +it were, by the physical exertion of his own: he would lead us captive +by the superior grandeur of his qualities, once fairly manifested; and +he aims at dominion, chiefly as it will enable him to manifest these. +'It is not the arena that he values, but what lies in that arena:' the +sovereignty is enviable, not for its adventitious splendour, not +because it is the object of coarse and universal wonder; but as it +offers, in the collected force of a nation, something which the +loftiest mortal may find scope for all his powers in guiding. "Spread +out the thunder," Fiesco exclaims, "into its single tones, and it +becomes a lullaby for children: pour it forth together in <i>one</i> quick +peal, and the royal sound shall move the heavens." His affections are +not less vehement than his other passions:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> his heart can be melted +into powerlessness and tenderness by the mild persuasions of his +Leonora; the idea of exalting this amiable being mingles largely with +the other motives to his enterprise. He is, in fact, a great, and +might have been a virtuous man; and though in the pursuit of grandeur +he swerves from absolute rectitude, we still respect his splendid +qualities, and admit the force of the allurements which have led him +astray. It is but faintly that we condemn his sentiments, when, after +a night spent in struggles between a rigid and a more accommodating +patriotism, he looks out of his chamber, as the sun is rising in its +calm beauty, and gilding the waves and mountains, and all the +innumerable palaces and domes and spires of Genoa, and exclaims with +rapture: "This majestic city—mine! To flame over it like the kingly +Day; to brood over it with a monarch's power; all these sleepless +longings, all these never satiated wishes to be drowned in that +unfathomable ocean!" We admire Fiesco, we disapprove of him, and +sympathise with him: he is crushed in the ponderous machinery which +himself put in motion and thought to control: we lament his fate, but +confess that it was not undeserved. He is a fit 'offering of +individual free-will to the force of social conventions.'</p> + +<p>Fiesco is not the only striking character in the play which bears his +name. The narrow fanatical republican virtue of Verrina, the mild and +venerable wisdom of the old Doria, the unbridled profligacy of his +Nephew, even the cold, contented, irreclaimable perversity of the +cutthroat Moor, all dwell in our recollections: but what, next to +Fiesco, chiefly attracts us, is the character of Leonora his wife. +Leonora is of kindred to Amelia in the <i>Robbers</i>, but involved in more +complicated relations, and brought nearer to the actual condition of +humanity. She is such a heroine as Schiller most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> delights to draw. +Meek and retiring by the softness of her nature, yet glowing with an +ethereal ardour for all that is illustrious and lovely, she clings +about her husband, as if her being were one with his. She dreams of +remote and peaceful scenes, where Fiesco should be all to her, she all +to Fiesco: her idea of love is, that '<i>her</i> name should lie in secret +behind every one of his thoughts, should speak to him from every +object of Nature; that for him, this bright majestic universe itself +were but as the shining jewel, on which her image, only <i>hers</i>, stood +engraved.' Her character seems a reflection of Fiesco's, but refined +from his grosser strength, and transfigured into a celestial form of +purity, and tenderness, and touching grace. Jealousy cannot move her +into anger; she languishes in concealed sorrow, when she thinks +herself forgotten. It is affection alone that can rouse her into +passion; but under the influence of this, she forgets all weakness and +fear. She cannot stay in her palace, on the night when Fiesco's +destiny is deciding; she rushes forth, as if inspired, to share in her +husband's dangers and sublime deeds, and perishes at last in the +tumult.</p> + +<p>The death of Leonora, so brought about, and at such a time, is +reckoned among the blemishes of the work: that of Fiesco, in which +Schiller has ventured to depart from history, is to be more favourably +judged of. Fiesco is not here accidentally drowned; but plunged into +the waves by the indignant Verrina, who forgets or stifles the +feelings of friendship, in his rage at political apostasy. 'The nature +of the Drama,' we are justly told, 'will not suffer the operation of +Chance, or of an immediate Providence. Higher spirits can discern the +minute fibres of an event stretching through the whole expanse of the +system of the world, and hanging, it may be, on the remotest limits of +the future and the past, where man discerns nothing save the action<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +itself, hovering unconnected in space. But the artist has to paint for +the short view of man, whom he wishes to instruct; not for the +piercing eye of superior powers, from whom he learns.'</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">In the composition of <i>Fiesco</i>, Schiller derived the main part of his +original materials from history; he could increase the effect by +gorgeous representations, and ideas preëxisting in the mind of his +reader. Enormity of incident and strangeness of situation lent him a +similar assistance in the <i>Robbers</i>. <i>Kabale und Liebe</i> is destitute +of these advantages; it is a tragedy of domestic life; its means of +interesting are comprised within itself, and rest on very simple +feelings, dignified by no very singular action. The name, +<i>Court-Intriguing and Love</i>, correctly designates its nature; it aims +at exhibiting the conflict, the victorious conflict, of political +manœuvering, of cold worldly wisdom, with the pure impassioned +movements of the young heart, as yet unsullied by the tarnish of +every-day life, inexperienced in its calculations, sick of its empty +formalities, and indignantly determined to cast-off the mean +restrictions it imposes, which bind so firmly by their number, though +singly so contemptible. The idea is far from original: this is a +conflict which most men have figured to themselves, which many men of +ardent mind are in some degree constantly waging. To make it, in this +simple form, the subject of a drama, seems to be a thought of +Schiller's own; but the praise, though not the merit of his +undertaking, considerable rather as performed than projected, has been +lessened by a multitude of worthless or noxious imitations. The same +primary conception has been tortured into a thousand shapes, and +tricked out with a thousand tawdry devices and meretricious ornaments, +by the Kotzebues, and other 'intellectual Jacobins,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> whose +productions have brought what we falsely call the 'German Theatre' +into such deserved contempt in England. Some portion of the gall, due +only to these inflated, flimsy, and fantastic persons, appears to have +acted on certain critics in estimating this play of Schiller's. August +Wilhelm Schlegel speaks slightingly of the work: he says, 'it will +hardly move us by its tone of overstrained sensibility, but may well +afflict us by the painful impressions which it leaves.' Our own +experience has been different from that of Schlegel. In the characters +of Louisa and Ferdinand Walter we discovered little overstraining; +their sensibility we did not reckon very criminal; seeing it united +with a clearness of judgment, chastened by a purity of heart, and +controlled by a force of virtuous resolution, in full proportion with +itself. We rather admired the genius of the poet, which could elevate +a poor music-master's daughter to the dignity of a heroine; could +represent, without wounding our sense of propriety, the affection of +two noble beings, created for each other by nature, and divided by +rank; we sympathised in their sentiments enough to feel a proper +interest in their fate, and see in them, what the author meant we +should see, two pure and lofty minds involved in the meshes of vulgar +cunning, and borne to destruction by the excess of their own good +qualities and the crimes of others.</p> + +<p>Ferdinand is a nobleman, but not convinced that 'his patent of +nobility is more ancient or of more authority than the primeval scheme +of the universe:' he speaks and acts like a young man entertaining +such persuasions: disposed to yield everything to reason and true +honour, but scarcely anything to mere use and wont. His passion for +Louisa is the sign and the nourishment rather than the cause of such a +temper: he loves her without limit, as the only creature he has ever +met with of a like mind with himself; and this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> feeling exalts into +inspiration what was already the dictate of his nature. We accompany +him on his straight and plain path; we rejoice to see him fling aside +with a strong arm the artifices and allurements with which a worthless +father and more worthless associates assail him at first in vain: +there is something attractive in the spectacle of native integrity, +fearless though inexperienced, at war with selfishness and craft; +something mournful, because the victory will seldom go as we would +have it.</p> + +<p>Louisa is a meet partner for the generous Ferdinand: the poet has done +justice to her character. She is timid and humble; a feeling and +richly gifted soul is hid in her by the unkindness of her earthly lot; +she is without counsellors except the innate holiness of her heart, +and the dictates of her keen though untutored understanding; yet when +the hour of trial comes, she can obey the commands of both, and draw +from herself a genuine nobleness of conduct, which secondhand +prudence, and wealth, and titles, would but render less touching. Her +filial affection, her angelic attachment to her lover, her sublime and +artless piety, are beautifully contrasted with the bleakness of her +external circumstances: she appears before us like the '<i>one</i> rose of +the wilderness left on its stalk,' and we grieve to see it crushed and +trodden down so rudely.</p> + +<p>The innocence, the enthusiasm, the exalted life and stern fate of +Louisa and Ferdinand give a powerful charm to this tragedy: it is +everywhere interspersed with pieces of fine eloquence, and scenes +which move us by their dignity or pathos. We recollect few passages of +a more overpowering nature than the conclusion, where Ferdinand, +beguiled by the most diabolical machinations to disbelieve the virtue +of his mistress, puts himself and her to death by poison. There is a +gloomy and solemn might in his despair; though over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>whelmed, he seems +invincible: his enemies have blinded and imprisoned him in their +deceptions; but only that, like Samson, he may overturn his +prison-house, and bury himself, and all that have wronged him, in its +ruins.</p> + +<p>The other characters of the play, though in general properly +sustained, are not sufficiently remarkable to claim much of our +attention. Wurm, the chief counsellor and agent of the unprincipled, +calculating Father, is wicked enough; but there is no great +singularity in his wickedness. He is little more than the dry, cool, +and now somewhat vulgar miscreant, the villanous Attorney of modern +novels. Kalb also is but a worthless subject, and what is worse, but +indifferently handled. He is meant for the feather-brained thing of +tags and laces, which frequently inhabits courts; but he wants the +grace and agility proper to the species; he is less a fool than a +blockhead, less perverted than totally inane. Schiller's strength lay +not in comedy, but in something far higher. The great merit of the +present work consists in the characters of the hero and heroine; and +in this respect it ranks at the very head of its class. As a tragedy +of common life, we know of few rivals to it, certainly of no superior.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">The production of three such pieces as the <i>Robbers</i>, <i>Fiesco</i>, and +<i>Kabale und Liebe</i>, already announced to the world that another great +and original mind had appeared, from whose maturity, when such was the +promise of its youth, the highest expectations might be formed. These +three plays stand related to each other in regard to their nature and +form, as well as date: they exhibit the progressive state of +Schiller's education; show us the fiery enthusiasm of youth, +exasperated into wildness, astonishing in its movements rather than +sublime; and the same enthusiasm gradually<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> yielding to the sway of +reason, gradually using itself to the constraints prescribed by sound +judgment and more extensive knowledge. Of the three, the <i>Robbers</i> is +doubtless the most singular, and likely perhaps to be the most widely +popular: but the latter two are of more real worth in the eye of +taste, and will better bear a careful and rigorous study.</p> + +<p>With the appearance of <i>Fiesco</i> and its companion, the first period of +Schiller's literary history may conclude. The stormy confusions of his +youth were now subsiding; after all his aberrations, repulses, and +perplexed wanderings, he was at length about to reach his true +destination, and times of more serenity began to open for him. Two +such tragedies as he had lately offered to the world made it easier +for his friend Dalberg to second his pretensions. Schiller was at last +gratified by the fulfilment of his favourite scheme; in September +1783, he went to Mannheim, as poet to the theatre, a post of +respectability and reasonable profit, to the duties of which he +forthwith addressed himself with all his heart. He was not long +afterwards elected a member of the German Society established for +literary objects in Mannheim; and he valued the honour, not only as a +testimony of respect from a highly estimable quarter, but also as a +means of uniting him more closely with men of kindred pursuits and +tempers: and what was more than all, of quieting forever his +apprehensions from the government at Stuttgard. Since his arrival at +Mannheim, one or two suspicious incidents had again alarmed him on +this head; but being now acknowledged as a subject of the Elector +Palatine, naturalised by law in his new country, he had nothing more +to fear from the Duke of Würtemberg.</p> + +<p>Satisfied with his moderate income, safe, free, and surrounded by +friends that loved and honoured him, Schiller now looked confidently +forward to what all his efforts had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> been a search and hitherto a +fruitless search for, an undisturbed life of intellectual labour. What +effect this happy aspect of his circumstances must have produced upon +him may be easily conjectured. Through many years he had been inured +to agitation and distress; now peace and liberty and hope, sweet in +themselves, were sweeter for their novelty. For the first time in his +life, he saw himself allowed to obey without reluctance the ruling +bias of his nature; for the first time inclination and duty went hand +in hand. His activity awoke with renovated force in this favourable +scene; long-thwarted, half-forgotten projects again kindled into +brightness, as the possibility of their accomplishment became +apparent: Schiller glowed with a generous pride when he felt his +faculties at his own disposal, and thought of the use he meant to make +of them. 'All my connexions,' he said, 'are now dissolved. The public +is now all to me, my study, my sovereign, my confidant. To the public +alone I henceforth belong; before this and no other tribunal will I +place myself; this alone do I reverence and fear. Something majestic +hovers before me, as I determine now to wear no other fetters but the +sentence of the world, to appeal to no other throne but the soul of +man.'</p> + +<p>These expressions are extracted from the preface to his <i>Thalia</i>, a +periodical work which he undertook in 1784, devoted to subjects +connected with poetry, and chiefly with the drama. In such sentiments +we leave him, commencing the arduous and perilous, but also glorious +and sublime duties of a life consecrated to the discovery of truth, +and the creation of intellectual beauty. He was now exclusively what +is called a <i>Man of Letters</i>, for the rest of his days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> She was of humble descent and little education, the +daughter of a baker in Kodweis.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> His book is entitled <i>Die Baumzucht im Grossen</i> (the +Cultivation of Trees on the Grand Scale): it came to a second edition +in 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The first display of his poetic gifts occurred also in +his ninth year, but took its rise in a much humbler and less common +source than the inspiration of the stage. His biographers have +recorded this small event with a conscientious accuracy, second only +to that of Boswell and Hawkins in regard to the Lichfield <i>duck</i>. 'The +little tale,' says one of them, 'is worth relating; the rather that, +after an interval of more than twenty years, Schiller himself, on +meeting with his early comrade (the late Dr. Elwert of Kantstadt) for +the first time since their boyhood, reminded him of the adventure, +recounting the circumstances with great minuteness and glee. It is as +follows: Once in 1768, Elwert and he had to repeat their catechism +together on a certain day publicly in the church. Their teacher, an +ill-conditioned, narrow-minded pietist, had previously threatened them +with a thorough flogging if they missed even a single word. To make +the matter worse, this very teacher chanced to be the person whose +turn it was to catechise on the appointed day. Both the boys began +their answers with dismayed hearts and faltering tongues; yet they +succeeded in accomplishing the task; and were in consequence rewarded +by the mollified pedagogue with two kreutzers apiece. Four kreutzers +of ready cash was a sum of no common magnitude; how it should be +disposed of formed a serious question for the parties interested. +Schiller moved that they should go to Harteneck, a hamlet in the +neighbourhood, and have a dish of curds-and-cream: his partner +assented; but alas! in Harteneck no particle of curds or cream was to +be had. Schiller then made offer for a quarter-cake of cheese; but for +this four entire kreutzers were demanded, leaving nothing whatever in +reserve for bread! Twice baffled, the little gastronomes, unsatisfied +in stomach, wandered on to Neckarweihingen; where, at length, though +not till after much inquiry, they did obtain a comfortable mess of +curds-and-cream, served up in a gay platter, and silver spoons to eat +it with. For all this, moreover, they were charged but three +kreutzers; so that there was still one left to provide them with a +bunch of St. John grapes. Exhilarated by such liberal cheer, Schiller +rose into a glow of inspiration: having left the village, he mounted +with his comrade to the adjacent height, which overlooks both +Harteneck and Neckarweihingen; and there in a truly poetic effusion he +pronounced his malediction on the creamless region, bestowing with the +same solemnity his blessing on the one which had afforded him that +savoury refreshment.' <i>Friedrich von Schillers Leben</i> (Heidelberg. +1817), p. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The feeling produced in him by Shakspeare he described +long afterwards: it throws light on the general state of his temper +and tastes. 'When I first, at a very early age,' he says, 'became +acquainted with this poet, I felt indignant at his coldness, his +hardness of heart, which permitted him in the most melting pathos to +utter jests,—to mar, by the introduction of a fool, the +soul-searching scenes of <i>Hamlet</i>, <i>Lear</i>, and other pieces; which now +kept him still where my sensibilities hastened forward, now drove him +carelessly, onward where I would so gladly have lingered * * He was +the object of my reverence and zealous study for years before I could +love himself. I was not yet capable of comprehending Nature at +first-hand: I had but learned to admire her image, reflected in the +understanding, and put in order by rules.' <i>Werke</i>, Bd. viii 2, p. +77.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Deutsches Museum v. Jahr</i> 1784, cited by Doering.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> On this subject Doering gives an anecdote, which may +perhaps be worth translating. 'One of Schiller's teachers surprised +him on one occasion reciting a scene from the <i>Robbers</i>, before some +of his intimate companions. At the words, which Franz von Moor +addresses to Moser: <i>Ha, what! thou knowest none greater? Think again! +Death, heaven, eternity, damnation, hovers in the sound of thy voice! +Not one greater?</i>—the door opened, and the master saw Schiller +stamping in desperation up and down the room. "For shame," said he, +"for shame to get into such a passion, and curse so!" The other +scholars tittered covertly at the worthy inspector; and Schiller +called after him with a bitter smile, "A noodle" (ein confiscirter +Kerl)!'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> His Latin Essay on the <i>Philosophy of Physiology</i> was +written in 1778, and never printed. His concluding <i>thesis</i> was +published according to custom: the subject is arduous enough, "the +connection between the animal and spiritual nature of man,"—which Dr. +Cabanis has since treated in so offensive a fashion. Schiller's tract +we have never seen. Doering says it was long 'out of print,' till +Nasse reproduced it in his Medical Journal (Leipzig, 1820): he is +silent respecting its merits.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The obnoxious passage has been carefully expunged from +subsequent editions. It was in the third scene of the second act; +Spiegelberg discoursing with Razmann, observes, "An honest man you may +form of windle-straws; but to make a rascal you must have grist: +besides, there is a national genius in it, a certain rascal-climate, +so to speak." In the first edition, there was added: "<i>Go to the +Grisons, for instance: that is what I call the thief's Athens.</i>" The +patriot who stood forth on this occasion for the honour of the +Grisons, to deny this weighty charge, and denounce the crime of making +it, was not Dogberry or Verges, but 'one of the noble family of +Salis.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> See <a href="#NO_1_PAGE_31">Appendix I., No. 1.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> See <a href="#NO_2_PAGE_33">Appendix I., No. 2.</a></p></div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></h2> + +<h3><a name="FROM_SCHILLERS_SETTLEMENT_AT_MANNHEIM_TO_HIS" id="FROM_SCHILLERS_SETTLEMENT_AT_MANNHEIM_TO_HIS"></a>FROM SCHILLER'S SETTLEMENT AT MANNHEIM TO HIS<br /> SETTLEMENT AT JENA.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +(1783-1790.)</h3> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_SECOND" id="PART_SECOND"></a>PART SECOND.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +<br /> +<small>[1783-1790.]</small></h2> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">If</span> to know wisdom were to practise it; if fame brought true dignity +and peace of mind; or happiness consisted in nourishing the intellect +with its appropriate food and surrounding the imagination with ideal +beauty, a literary life would be the most enviable which the lot of +this world affords. But the truth is far otherwise. The Man of Letters +has no immutable, all-conquering volition, more than other men; to +understand and to perform are two very different things with him as +with every one. His fame rarely exerts a favourable influence on his +dignity of character, and never on his peace of mind: its glitter is +external, for the eyes of others; within, it is but the aliment of +unrest, the oil cast upon the ever-gnawing fire of ambition, +quickening into fresh vehemence the blaze which it stills for a +moment. Moreover, this Man of Letters is not wholly made of spirit, +but of clay and spirit mixed: his thinking faculties may be nobly +trained and exercised, but he must have affections as well as thoughts +to make him happy, and food and raiment must be given him or he dies. +Far from being the most enviable, his way of life is perhaps, among +the many modes by which an ardent mind endeavours to express its +activity,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> the most thickly beset with suffering and degradation. Look +at the biography of authors! Except the Newgate Calendar, it is the +most sickening chapter in the history of man. The calamities of these +people are a fertile topic; and too often their faults and vices have +kept pace with their calamities. Nor is it difficult to see how this +has happened. Talent of any sort is generally accompanied with a +peculiar fineness of sensibility; of genius this is the most essential +constituent; and life in any shape has sorrows enough for hearts so +formed. The employments of literature sharpen this natural tendency; +the vexations that accompany them frequently exasperate it into morbid +soreness. The cares and toils of literature are the business of life; +its delights are too ethereal and too transient to furnish that +perennial flow of satisfaction, coarse but plenteous and substantial, +of which happiness in this world of ours is made. The most finished +efforts of the mind give it little pleasure, frequently they give it +pain; for men's aims are ever far beyond their strength. And the +outward recompense of these undertakings, the distinction they confer, +is of still smaller value: the desire for it is insatiable even when +successful; and when baffled, it issues in jealousy and envy, and +every pitiful and painful feeling. So keen a temperament with so +little to restrain or satisfy, so much to distress or tempt it, +produces contradictions which few are adequate to reconcile. Hence the +unhappiness of literary men, hence their faults and follies.</p> + +<p>Thus literature is apt to form a dangerous and discontenting +occupation even for the amateur. But for him whose rank and worldly +comforts depend on it, who does not live to write, but writes to live, +its difficulties and perils are fearfully increased. Few spectacles +are more afflicting than that of such a man, so gifted and so fated, +so jostled and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> tossed to and fro in the rude bustle of life, the +buffetings of which he is so little fitted to endure. Cherishing, it +may be, the loftiest thoughts, and clogged with the meanest wants; of +pure and holy purposes, yet ever driven from the straight path by the +pressure of necessity, or the impulse of passion; thirsting for glory, +and frequently in want of daily bread; hovering between the empyrean +of his fancy and the squalid desert of reality; cramped and foiled in +his most strenuous exertions; dissatisfied with his best performances, +disgusted with his fortune, this Man of Letters too often spends his +weary days in conflicts with obscure misery: harassed, chagrined, +debased, or maddened; the victim at once of tragedy and farce; the +last forlorn outpost in the war of Mind against Matter. Many are the +noble souls that have perished bitterly, with their tasks unfinished, +under these corroding woes! Some in utter famine, like Otway; some in +dark insanity, like Cowper and Collins; some, like Chatterton, have +sought out a more stern quietus, and turning their indignant steps +away from a world which refused them welcome, have taken refuge in +that strong Fortress, where poverty and cold neglect, and the thousand +natural shocks which flesh is heir to, could not reach them any more.</p> + +<p>Yet among these men are to be found the brightest specimens and the +chief benefactors of mankind! It is they that keep awake the finer +parts of our souls; that give us better aims than power or pleasure, +and withstand the total sovereignty of Mammon in this earth. They are +the vanguard in the march of mind; the intellectual Backwoodsmen, +reclaiming from the idle wilderness new territories for the thought +and the activity of their happier brethren. Pity that from all their +conquests, so rich in benefit to others, themselves should reap so +little! But it is vain to murmur. They are volunteers in this cause; +they weighed the charms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> of it against the perils: and they must abide +the results of their decision, as all must. The hardships of the +course they follow are formidable, but not all inevitable; and to such +as pursue it rightly, it is not without its great rewards. If an +author's life is more agitated and more painful than that of others, +it may also be made more spirit-stirring and exalted: fortune may +render him unhappy; it is only himself that can make him despicable. +The history of genius has, in fact, its bright side as well as its +dark. And if it is distressing to survey the misery, and what is +worse, the debasement of so many gifted men, it is doubly cheering on +the other hand to reflect on the few, who, amid the temptations and +sorrows to which life in all its provinces and most in theirs is +liable, have travelled through it in calm and virtuous majesty, and +are now hallowed in our memories, not less for their conduct than +their writings. Such men are the flower of this lower world: to such +alone can the epithet of great be applied with its true emphasis. +There is a congruity in their proceedings which one loves to +contemplate: 'he who would write heroic poems, should make his whole +life a heroic poem.'</p> + +<p>So thought our Milton; and, what was more difficult, he acted so. To +Milton, the moral king of authors, a heroic multitude, out of many +ages and countries, might be joined; a 'cloud of witnesses,' that +encompass the true literary man throughout his pilgrimage, inspiring +him to lofty emulation, cheering his solitary thoughts with hope, +teaching him to struggle, to endure, to conquer difficulties, or, in +failure and heavy sufferings, to</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'arm th' obdured breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With stubborn patience as with triple steel.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">To this august series, in his own degree, the name of Schiller may be +added.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>Schiller lived in more peaceful times than Milton; his history is less +distinguished by obstacles surmounted, or sacrifices made to +principle; yet he had his share of trials to encounter; and the +admirers of his writings need not feel ashamed of the way in which he +bore it. One virtue, the parent of many others, and the most essential +of any, in his circumstances, he possessed in a supreme degree; he was +devoted with entire and unchanging ardour to the cause he had embarked +in. The extent of his natural endowments might have served, with a +less eager character, as an excuse for long periods of indolence, +broken only by fits of casual exertion: with him it was but a new +incitement to improve and develop them. The Ideal Man that lay within +him, the image of himself as he <i>should</i> be, was formed upon a strict +and curious standard; and to reach this constantly approached and +constantly receding emblem of perfection, was the unwearied effort of +his life. This crowning principle of conduct, never ceasing to inspire +his energetic mind, introduced a consistency into his actions, a firm +coherence into his character, which the changeful condition of his +history rendered of peculiar importance. His resources, his place of +residence, his associates, his worldly prospects, might vary as they +pleased; this purpose did not vary; it was ever present with him to +nerve every better faculty of his head and heart, to invest the +chequered vicissitudes of his fortune with a dignity derived from +himself. The zeal of his nature overcame the temptations to that +loitering and indecision, that fluctuation between sloth and consuming +toil, that infirmity of resolution, with all its tormenting and +enfeebling consequences, to which a literary man, working as he does +at a solitary task, uncalled for by any pressing tangible demand, and +to be recompensed by distant and dubious advantage, is especially +exposed. Unity of aim, aided<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> by ordinary vigour of character, will +generally insure perseverance; a quality not ranked among the cardinal +virtues, but as essential as any of them to the proper conduct of +life. Nine-tenths of the miseries and vices of mankind proceed from +idleness: with men of quick minds, to whom it is especially +pernicious, this habit is commonly the fruit of many disappointments +and schemes oft baffled; and men fail in their schemes not so much +from the want of strength as from the ill-direction of it. The weakest +living creature, by concentrating his powers on a single object, can +accomplish something: the strongest, by dispersing his over many, may +fail to accomplish anything. The drop, by continual falling, bores its +passage through the hardest rock; the hasty torrent rushes over it +with hideous uproar, and leaves no trace behind. Few men have applied +more steadfastly to the business of their life, or been more +resolutely diligent than Schiller.</p> + +<p>The profession of theatrical poet was, in his present circumstances, +particularly favourable to the maintenance of this wholesome state of +mind. In the fulfilment of its duties, while he gratified his own +dearest predilections, he was likewise warmly seconded by the +prevailing taste of the public. The interest excited by the stage, and +the importance attached to everything connected with it, are greater +in Germany than in any other part of Europe, not excepting France, or +even Paris. Nor, as in Paris, is the stage in German towns considered +merely as a mental recreation, an elegant and pleasant mode of filling +up the vacancy of tedious evenings: in Germany, it has the advantage +of being comparatively new; and its exhibitions are directed to a +class of minds attuned to a far higher pitch of feeling. The Germans +are accused of a proneness to amplify and systematise, to admire with +excess, and to find, in whatever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> calls forth their applause, an +epitome of a thousand excellencies, which no one else can discover in +it. Their discussions on the theatre do certainly give colour to this +charge. Nothing, at least to an English reader, can appear more +disproportionate than the influence they impute to the stage, and the +quantity of anxious investigation they devote to its concerns.</p> + +<p>With us, the question about the moral tendency of theatrical +amusements is now very generally consigned to the meditation of +debating clubs, and speculative societies of young men under age; with +our neighbours it is a weighty subject of inquiry for minds of almost +the highest order. With us, the stage is considered as a harmless +pastime, wholesome because it occupies the man by occupying his +mental, not his sensual faculties; one of the many departments of +fictitious representation; perhaps the most exciting, but also the +most transitory; sometimes hurtful, generally beneficial, just as the +rest are; entitled to no peculiar regard, and far inferior in its +effect to many others which have no special apparatus for their +application. The Germans, on the contrary, talk of it as of some new +organ for refining the hearts and minds of men; a sort of lay pulpit, +the worthy ally of the sacred one, and perhaps even better fitted to +exalt some of our nobler feelings; because its objects are much more +varied, and because it speaks to us through many avenues, addressing +the eye by its pomp and decorations, the ear by its harmonies, and the +heart and imagination by its poetical embellishments, and heroic acts +and sentiments. Influences still more mysterious are hinted at, if not +directly announced. An idea seems to lurk obscurely at the bottom of +certain of their abstruse and elaborate speculations, as if the stage +were destined to replace some of those sublime illusions which the +progress of reason<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> is fast driving from the earth; as if its +pageantry, and allegories, and figurative shadowing-forth of things, +might supply men's nature with much of that quickening nourishment +which we once derived from the superstitions and mythologies of darker +ages. Viewing the matter in this light, they proceed in the management +of it with all due earnestness. Hence their minute and painful +investigations of the origin of dramatic emotion, of its various kinds +and degrees; their subdivisions of romantic and heroic and +romantico-heroic, and the other endless jargon that encumbers their +critical writings. The zeal of the people corresponds with that of +their instructors. The want of more important public interests +naturally contributes still farther to the prominence of this, the +discussion of which is not forbidden, or sure to be without effect. +Literature attracts nearly all the powerful thought that circulates in +Germany; and the theatre is the great nucleus of German literature.</p> + +<p>It was to be expected that Schiller would participate in a feeling so +universal, and so accordant with his own wishes and prospects. The +theatre of Mannheim was at that period one of the best in Germany; he +felt proud of the share which he had in conducting it, and exerted +himself with his usual alacrity in promoting its various objects. +Connected with the duties of his office, was the more personal duty of +improving his own faculties, and extending his knowledge of the art +which he had engaged to cultivate. He read much, and studied more. The +perusal of Corneille, Racine, Voltaire, and the other French classics, +could not be without advantage to one whose exuberance of power, and +defect of taste, were the only faults he had ever been reproached +with; and the sounder ideas thus acquired, he was constantly busy in +exemplifying by attempts of his own. His projected translations from +Shakspeare and the French were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> postponed for the present: indeed, +except in the instance of <i>Macbeth</i>, they were never finished: his +<i>Conradin von Schwaben</i>, and a second part of the <i>Robbers</i>, were +likewise abandoned: but a number of minor undertakings sufficiently +evinced his diligence: and <i>Don Carlos</i>, which he had now seriously +commenced, was occupying all his poetical faculties.</p> + +<p>Another matter he had much at heart was the setting forth of a +periodical work, devoted to the concerns of the stage. In this +enterprise, Schiller had expected the patronage and coöperation of the +German Society, of which he was a member. It did not strike him that +any other motive than a genuine love of art, and zeal for its +advancement, could have induced men to join such a body. But the zeal +of the German Society was more according to knowledge than that of +their new associate: they listened with approving ear to his vivid +representations, and wide-spreading projects, but declined taking any +part in the execution of them. Dalberg alone seemed willing to support +him. Mortified, but not disheartened by their coldness, Schiller +reckoned up his means of succeeding without them. The plan of his work +was contracted within narrower limits; he determined to commence it on +his own resources. After much delay, the first number of the +<i>Rheinische Thalia</i>, enriched by three acts of <i>Don Carlos</i>, appeared +in 1785. It was continued, with one short interruption, till 1794. The +main purpose of the work being the furtherance of dramatic art, and +the extension and improvement of the public taste for such +entertainments, its chief contents are easy to be guessed at; +theatrical criticisms, essays on the nature of the stage, its history +in various countries, its moral and intellectual effects, and the best +methods of producing them. A part of the publication was open to +poetry and miscellaneous discussion.</p> + +<p>Meditating so many subjects so assiduously, Schiller knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> not what it +was to be unemployed. Yet the task of composing dramatic varieties, of +training players, and deliberating in the theatrical senate, or even +of expressing philosophically his opinions on these points, could not +wholly occupy such a mind as his. There were times when, +notwithstanding his own prior habits, and all the vaunting of +dramaturgists, he felt that their scenic glories were but an empty +show, a lying refuge, where there was no abiding rest for the soul. +His eager spirit turned away from their paltry world of pasteboard, to +dwell among the deep and serious interests of the living world of men. +The <i>Thalia</i>, besides its dramatic speculations and performances, +contains several of his poems, which indicate that his attention, +though officially directed elsewhither, was alive to all the common +concerns of humanity; that he looked on life not more as a writer than +as a man. The <i>Laura</i>, whom he celebrates, was not a vision of the +mind; but a living fair one, whom he saw daily, and loved in the +secrecy of his heart. His <i>Gruppe aus dem Tartarus</i> (Group from +Tartarus), his <i>Kindesmörderinn</i> (Infanticide), are products of a mind +brooding over dark and mysterious things. While improving in the art +of poetry, in the capability of uttering his thoughts in the form best +adapted to express them, he was likewise improving in the more +valuable art of thought itself; and applying it not only to the +business of the imagination, but also to those profound and solemn +inquiries, which every reasonable mortal is called to engage with.</p> + +<p>In particular, the <i>Philosophische Briefe</i>, written about this period, +exhibits Schiller in a new, and to us more interesting point of view. +Julius and Raphael are the emblems of his own fears and his own hopes; +their <i>Philosophic Letters</i> unfold to us many a gloomy conflict that +had passed in the secret chambers of their author's soul. Sceptical +doubts on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> the most important of all subjects were natural to such an +understanding as Schiller's; but his heart was not of a temper to rest +satisfied with doubts; or to draw a sorry compensation for them from +the pride of superior acuteness, or the vulgar pleasure of producing +an effect on others by assailing their dearest and holiest +persuasions. With him the question about the essence of our being was +not a subject for shallow speculation, charitably named scientific; +still less for vain jangling and polemical victories: it was a fearful +mystery, which it concerned all the deepest sympathies and most +sublime anticipations of his mind to have explained. It is no idle +curiosity, but the shuddering voice of nature that asks: 'If our +happiness depend on the harmonious play of the sensorium; if our +conviction may waver with the beating of the pulse?' What Schiller's +ultimate opinions on these points were, we are nowhere specially +informed. That his heart was orthodox, that the whole universe was for +him a temple, in which he offered up the continual sacrifice of devout +adoration, his works and life bear noble testimony; yet, here and +there, his fairest visions seem as if suddenly sicklied over with a +pale cast of doubt; a withering shadow seems to flit across his soul, +and chill it in his loftiest moods. The dark condition of the man who +longs to believe and longs in vain, he can represent with a +verisimilitude and touching beauty, which shows it to have been +familiar to himself. Apart from their ingenuity, there is a certain +severe pathos in some of these passages, which affects us with a +peculiar emotion. The hero of another work is made to express himself +in these terms:</p> + +<p>'What went before and what will follow me, I regard as two black +impenetrable curtains, which hang down at the two extremities of human +life, and which no living man has yet drawn aside. Many hundreds of +generations have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> already stood before them with their torches, +guessing anxiously what lies behind. On the curtain of Futurity, many +see their own shadows, the forms of their passions enlarged and put in +motion; they shrink in terror at this image of themselves. Poets, +philosophers, and founders of states, have painted this curtain with +their dreams, more smiling or more dark, as the sky above them was +cheerful or gloomy; and their pictures deceive the eye when viewed +from a distance. Many jugglers too make profit of this our universal +curiosity: by their strange mummeries, they have set the outstretched +fancy in amazement. A deep silence reigns behind this curtain; no one +once within it will answer those he has left without; all you can hear +is a hollow echo of your question, as if you shouted into a chasm. To +the other side of this curtain we are all bound: men grasp hold of it +as they pass, trembling, uncertain who may stand within it to receive +them, <i>quid sit id quod tantum morituri vident</i>. Some unbelieving +people there have been, who have asserted that this curtain did but +make a mockery of men, and that nothing could be seen because nothing +<i>was</i> behind it: but to convince these people, the rest have seized +them, and hastily pushed them in.'<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Philosophic Letters</i> paint the struggles of an ardent, +enthusiastic, inquisitive spirit to deliver itself from the harassing +uncertainties, to penetrate the dread obscurity, which overhangs the +lot of man. The first faint scruples of the Doubter are settled by the +maxim: 'Believe nothing but thy own reason; there is nothing holier +than truth.' But Reason, employed in such an inquiry, can do but half +the work: she is like the Conjuror that has pronounced the spell of +invocation, but has forgot the counter-word; spectres and shadowy +forms come crowding at his summons; in endless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> multitudes they press +and hover round his magic circle, and the terror-struck Black-artist +cannot lay them. Julius finds that on rejecting the primary dictates +of feeling, the system of dogmatical belief, he is driven to the +system of materialism. Recoiling in horror from this dead and +cheerless creed, he toils and wanders in the labyrinths of pantheism, +seeking comfort and rest, but finding none; till, baffled and tired, +and sick at heart, he seems inclined, as far as we can judge, to +renounce the dreary problem altogether, to shut the eyes of his too +keen understanding, and take refuge under the shade of Revelation. The +anxieties and errors of Julius are described in glowing terms; his +intellectual subtleties are mingled with the eloquence of intense +feeling. The answers of his friend are in a similar style; intended +not more to convince than to persuade. The whole work is full of +passion as well as acuteness; the impress of a philosophic and poetic +mind striving with all its vast energies to make its poetry and its +philosophy agree. Considered as exhibiting the state of Schiller's +thoughts at this period, it possesses a peculiar interest. In other +respects there is little in it to allure us. It is short and +incomplete; there is little originality in the opinions it expresses, +and none in the form of its composition. As an argument on either +side, it is too rhetorical to be of much weight; it abandons the +inquiry when its difficulties and its value are becoming greatest, and +breaks off abruptly without arriving at any conclusion. Schiller has +surveyed the dark Serbonian bog of Infidelity: but he has, made no +causeway through it: the <i>Philosophic Letters</i> are a fragment.</p> + +<p>Amid employments so varied, with health, and freedom from the coarser +hardships of life, Schiller's feelings might be earnest, but could +scarcely be unhappy. His mild and amiable manners, united to such +goodness of heart, and such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> height of accomplishment, endeared him to +all classes of society in Mannheim; Dalberg was still his warm friend; +Schwann and Laura he conversed with daily. His genius was fast +enlarging its empire, and fast acquiring more complete command of it; +he was loved and admired, rich in the enjoyment of present activity +and fame, and richer in the hope of what was coming. Yet in proportion +as his faculties and his prospects expanded, he began to view his +actual situation with less and less contentment. For a season after +his arrival, it was natural that Mannheim should appear to him as land +does to the shipwrecked mariner, full of gladness and beauty, merely +because it is land. It was equally natural that, after a time, this +sentiment should abate and pass away; that his place of refuge should +appear but as other places, only with its difficulties and discomforts +aggravated by their nearness. His revenue was inconsiderable here, and +dependent upon accidents for its continuance; a share in directing the +concerns of a provincial theatre, a task not without its irritations, +was little adequate to satisfy the wishes of a mind like his. Schiller +longed for a wider sphere of action; the world was all before him; he +lamented that he should still be lingering on the mere outskirts of +its business; that he should waste so much time and effort in +contending with the irascible vanity of players, or watching the ebbs +and flows of public taste; in resisting small grievances, and +realising a small result. He determined upon leaving Mannheim. If +destitute of other holds, his prudence might still have taught him to +smother this unrest, the never-failing inmate of every human breast, +and patiently continue where he was: but various resources remained to +him, and various hopes invited him from other quarters. The produce of +his works, or even the exercise of his profession, would insure him a +competence anywhere; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> former had already gained him distinction +and goodwill in every part of Germany. The first number of his +<i>Thalia</i> had arrived at the court of Hessen-Darmstadt while the Duke +of Sachsen-Weimar happened to be there: the perusal of the first acts +of <i>Don Carlos</i> had introduced the author to that enlightened prince, +who expressed his satisfaction and respect by transmitting him the +title of Counsellor. A less splendid but not less truthful or pleasing +testimonial had lately reached him from Leipzig.</p> + +<p>'Some days ago,' he writes, 'I met with a very flattering and +agreeable surprise. There came to me, out of Leipzig, from unknown +hands, four parcels, and as many letters, written with the highest +enthusiasm towards me, and overflowing with poetical devotion. They +were accompanied by four miniature portraits, two of which are of very +beautiful young ladies, and by a pocket-book sewed in the finest +taste. Such a present, from people who can have no interest in it, but +to let me know that they wish me well, and thank me for some cheerful +hours, I prize extremely; the loudest applause of the world could +scarcely have flattered me so agreeably.'</p> + +<p>Perhaps this incident, trifling as it was, might not be without effect +in deciding the choice of his future residence. Leipzig had the more +substantial charm of being a centre of activity and commerce of all +sorts, that of literature not excepted; and it contained some more +effectual friends of Schiller than these his unseen admirers. He +resolved on going thither. His wishes and intentions are minutely +detailed to Huber, his chief intimate at Leipzig, in a letter written +shortly before his removal. We translate it for the hints it gives us +of Schiller's tastes and habits at that period of his history.</p> + +<p>'This, then, is probably the last letter I shall write to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> you from +Mannheim. The time from the fifteenth of March has hung upon my hands, +like a trial for life; and, thank Heaven! I am now ten whole days +nearer you. And now, my good friend, as you have already consented to +take my entire confidence upon your shoulders, allow me the pleasure +of leading you into the interior of my domestic wishes.</p> + +<p>'In my new establishment at Leipzig, I purpose to avoid one error, +which has plagued me a great deal here in Mannheim. It is this: No +longer to conduct my own housekeeping, and also no longer to live +alone. The former is not by any means a business I excel in. It costs +me less to execute a whole conspiracy, in five acts, than to settle my +domestic arrangements for a week; and poetry, you yourself know, is +but a dangerous assistant in calculations of economy. My mind is drawn +different ways; I fall headlong out of my ideal world, if a holed +stocking remind me of the real world.</p> + +<p>'As to the other point, I require for my private happiness to have a +true warm friend that would be ever at my hand, like my better angel; +to whom I could communicate my nascent ideas in the very act of +conceiving them, not needing to transmit them, as at present, by +letters or long visits. Nay, when this friend of mine lives beyond the +four corners of my house, the trifling circumstance, that in order to +reach him I must cross the street, dress myself, and so forth, will of +itself destroy the enjoyment of the moment, and the train of my +thoughts is torn in pieces before I see him.</p> + +<p>'Observe you, my good fellow, these are petty matters; but petty +matters often bear the weightiest result in the management of life. I +know myself better than perhaps a thousand mothers' sons know +themselves; I understand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> how much, and frequently how little, I +require to be completely happy. The question therefore is: Can I get +this wish of my heart fulfilled in Leipzig?</p> + +<p>'If it were possible that I could make a lodgment with you, all my +cares on that head would be removed. I am no bad neighbour, as perhaps +you imagine; I have pliancy enough to suit myself to another, and here +and there withal a certain knack, as Yorick says, at helping to make +him merrier and better. Failing this, if you could find me any person +that would undertake my small economy, everything would still be well.</p> + +<p>'I want nothing but a bedroom, which might also be my working room; +and another chamber for receiving visits. The house-gear necessary for +me are a good chest of drawers, a desk, a bed and sofa, a table, and a +few chairs. With these conveniences, my accommodation were +sufficiently provided for.</p> + +<p>'I cannot live on the ground-floor, nor close by the ridge-tile; also +my windows positively must not look into the churchyard. I love men, +and therefore like their bustle. If I cannot so arrange it that we +(meaning the <i>quintuple alliance</i><a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>) shall mess together, I would +engage at the <i>table d'hôte</i> of the inn; for I had rather fast than +eat without company, large, or else particularly good.</p> + +<p>'I write all this to you, my dearest friend, to forewarn you of my +silly tastes; and, at all events, that I may put it in your power to +take some preparatory steps, in one place or another, for my +settlement. My demands are, in truth, confoundedly naïve, but your +goodness has spoiled me.</p> + +<p>'The first part of the <i>Thalia</i> must already be in your possession; +the doom of <i>Carlos</i> will ere now be pronounced.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> Yet I will take it +from you orally. Had we five not been acquainted, who knows but we +might have become so on occasion of this very <i>Carlos</i>?'</p> + +<p>Schiller went accordingly to Leipzig; though whether Huber received +him, or he found his humble necessaries elsewhere, we have not +learned. He arrived in the end of March 1785, after eighteen months' +residence at Mannheim. The reception he met with, his amusements, +occupations, and prospects are described in a letter to the Kammerrath +Schwann, a bookseller at Mannheim, alluded to above. Except Dalberg, +Schwann had been his earliest friend; he was now endeared to him by +subsequent familiarity, not of letters and writing, but of daily +intercourse; and what was more than all, by the circumstance that +<i>Laura</i> was his daughter. The letter, it will be seen, was written +with a weightier object than the pleasure of describing Leipzig: it is +dated 24th April 1785.</p> + +<p>'You have an indubitable right to be angry at my long silence; yet I +know your goodness too well to be in doubt that you will pardon me.</p> + +<p>'When a man, unskilled as I am in the busy world, visits Leipzig for +the first time, during the Fair, it is, if not excusable, at least +intelligible, that among the multitude of strange things running +through his head, he should for a few days lose recollection of +himself. Such, my dearest friend, has till today been nearly my case; +and even now I have to steal from many avocations the pleasing moments +which, in idea, I mean to spend with you at Mannheim.</p> + +<p>'Our journey hither, of which Herr Götz will give you a circumstantial +description, was the most dismal you can well imagine; Bog, Snow and +Rain were the three wicked foes that by turns assailed us; and though +we used an additional pair of horses all the way from Vach, yet our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +travelling, which should have ended on Friday, was spun-out till +Sunday. It is universally maintained that the Fair has visibly +suffered by the shocking state of the roads; at all events, even in my +eyes, the crowd of sellers and buyers is far <i>beneath</i> the description +I used to get of it in the Empire.</p> + +<p>'In the very first week of my residence here, I made innumerable new +acquaintances; among whom, Weisse, Oeser, Hiller, Zollikofer, +Professor Huber, Jünger, the famous actor Reinike, a few merchants' +families of the place, and some Berlin people, are the most +interesting. During Fair-time, as you know well, a person cannot get +the <i>full</i> enjoyment of any one; our attention to the individual is +dissipated in the noisy multitude.</p> + +<p>'My most pleasant recreation hitherto has been to visit Richter's +coffee-house, where I constantly find half the <i>world</i> of Leipzig +assembled, and extend my acquaintance with foreigners and natives.</p> + +<p>'From various quarters I have had some alluring invitations to Berlin +and Dresden; which it will be difficult for me to withstand. It is +quite a peculiar case, my friend, to have a literary name. The few men +of worth and consideration who offer you their intimacy on that score, +and whose regard is really worth coveting, are too disagreeably +counterweighed by the baleful swarm of creatures who keep humming +round you, like so many flesh-flies; gape at you as if you were a +monster, and condescend moreover, on the strength of one or two +blotted sheets, to present themselves as colleagues. Many people +cannot understand how a man that wrote the <i>Robbers</i> should look like +another son of Adam. Close-cut hair, at the very least, and +postillion's boots, and a hunter's whip, were expected.</p> + +<p>'Many families are in the habit here of spending the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> summer in some +of the adjacent villages, and so enjoying the pleasures of the +country. I mean to pass a few months in Gohlis, which lies only a +quarter of a league from Leipzig, with a very pleasant walk leading to +it, through the Rosenthal. Here I purpose being very diligent, working +at <i>Carlos</i> and the <i>Thalia</i>; that so, which perhaps will please you +more than anything, I may gradually and silently return to my medical +profession. I long impatiently for that epoch of my life, when my +prospects may be settled and determined, when I may follow my darling +pursuits merely for my own pleasure. At one time I studied medicine +<i>con amore</i>; could I not do it now with still greater keenness?</p> + +<p>'This, my best friend, might of itself convince you of the truth and +firmness of my purpose; but what should offer you the most complete +security on that point, what must banish all your doubts about my +steadfastness, I have yet kept secret. <i>Now or never</i> I must speak it +out. Distance alone gives me courage to express the wish of my heart. +Frequently enough, when I used to have the happiness of being near +you, has this confession hovered on my tongue; but my confidence +always forsook me, when I tried to utter it. My best friend! Your +goodness, your affection, your generosity of heart, have encouraged me +in a hope which I can justify by nothing but the friendship and +respect you have always shown me. My free, unconstrained access to +your house afforded me the opportunity of intimate acquaintance with +your amiable daughter; and the frank, kind treatment with which both +you and she honoured me, tempted my heart to entertain the bold wish +of becoming your son. My prospects have hitherto been dim and vague; +they now begin to alter in my favour. I will strive with more +continuous vigour when the goal is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> clear; do you decide whether I can +reach it, when the dearest wish of my heart supports my zeal.</p> + +<p>'Yet two short years and my whole fortune will be determined. I feel +how <i>much</i> I ask, how boldly, and with how little right I ask it. A +year is past since this thought took possession of my soul; but my +esteem for you and your excellent daughter was too high to allow room +for a wish, which at that time I could found on no solid basis. I made +it a duty with myself to visit your house less frequently, and to +dissipate such feelings by absence; but this poor artifice did not +avail me.</p> + +<p>'The Duke of Weimar was the first person to whom I disclosed myself. +His anticipating goodness, and the declaration that he took an +interest in my happiness, induced me to confess that this happiness +depended on a union with your noble daughter; and he expressed his +satisfaction at my choice. I have reason to hope that he will do more, +should it come to the point of completing my happiness by this union.</p> + +<p>'I shall add nothing farther: I know well that hundreds of others +might afford your daughter a more splendid fate than I at this moment +can promise her; but that any other <i>heart</i> can be more worthy of her, +I venture to deny. Your decision, which I look for with impatience and +fearful expectation, will determine whether I may venture to write in +person to your daughter. Fare you well, forever loved by—Your—</p> + +<p class="right">'<span class="smcap">Friedrich Schiller.</span>'</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Concerning this proposal, we have no farther information to +communicate; except that the parties did not marry, and did not cease +being friends. That Schiller obtained the permission he concludes with +requesting, appears from other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> sources. Three years afterwards, in +writing to the same person, he alludes emphatically to his eldest +daughter; and what is more ominous, <i>apologises</i> for his silence to +her. Schiller's situation at this period was such as to preclude the +idea of present marriage; perhaps, in the prospect of it, <i>Laura</i> and +he commenced corresponding; and before the wished-for change of +fortune had arrived, both of them, attracted to other objects, had +lost one another in the vortex of life, and ceased to regard their +finding one another as desirable.</p> + +<p>Schiller's medical project, like many which he formed, never came to +any issue. In moments of anxiety, amid the fluctuations of his lot, +the thought of this profession floated through his mind, as of a +distant stronghold, to which, in time of need, he might retire. But +literature was too intimately interwoven with his dispositions and his +habits to be seriously interfered with; it was only at brief intervals +that the pleasure of pursuing it exclusively seemed overbalanced by +its inconveniences. He needed a more certain income than poetry could +yield him; but he wished to derive it from some pursuit less alien to +his darling study. Medicine he never practised after leaving +Stuttgard.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, whatever he might afterwards resolve on, he +determined to complete his <i>Carlos</i>, the half of which, composed a +considerable time before, had lately been running the gauntlet of +criticism in the <i>Thalia</i>.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> With this for his chief occupation, +Gohlis or Leipzig for his residence, and a circle of chosen friends +for his entertainment, Schiller's days went happily along. His <i>Lied +an die Freude</i> (Song to Joy), one of his most spirited and beautiful +lyrical productions, was composed here: it bespeaks a mind impetuous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +even in its gladness, and overflowing with warm and earnest emotions.</p> + +<p>But the love of change is grounded on the difference between +anticipation and reality, and dwells with man till the age when habit +becomes stronger than desire, or anticipation ceases to be hope. +Schiller did not find that his establishment at Leipzig, though +pleasant while it lasted, would realise his ulterior views: he yielded +to some of his 'alluring invitations,' and went to Dresden in the end +of summer. Dresden contained many persons who admired him, more who +admired his fame, and a few who loved himself. Among the latter, the +Appellationsrath Körner deserves especial mention.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> Schiller found +a true friend in Körner, and made his house a home. He parted his time +between Dresden and Löschwitz, near it, where that gentleman resided: +it was here that <i>Don Carlos</i>, the printing of which was meanwhile +proceeding at Leipzig, received its completion and last +corrections.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> It was published in 1786.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p><p>The story of Don Carlos seems peculiarly adapted for dramatists. The +spectacle of a royal youth condemned to death by his father, of which +happily our European annals furnish but another example, is among the +most tragical that can be figured; the character of that youth, the +intermixture of bigotry and jealousy, and love, with the other strong +passions, which brought on his fate, afford a combination of +circumstances, affecting in themselves, and well calculated for the +basis of deeply interesting fiction. Accordingly they have not been +neglected: Carlos has often been the theme of poets; particularly +since the time when his history, recorded by the Abbé St. Réal, was +exposed in more brilliant colours to the inspection of every writer, +and almost of every reader.</p> + +<p>The Abbé St. Réal was a dexterous artist in that half-illicit species +of composition, the historic novel: in the course of his operations, +he lighted on these incidents; and, by filling-up according to his +fancy, what historians had only sketched to him, by amplifying, +beautifying, suppressing, and arranging, he worked the whole into a +striking little narrative, distinguished by all the symmetry, the +sparkling graces, the vigorous description, and keen thought, which +characterise his other writings. This French Sallust, as his +countrymen have named him, has been of use to many dramatists. His +<i>Conjuraison contre Venise</i> furnished Otway with the outline of his +best tragedy; <i>Epicaris</i> has more than once appeared upon the stage; +and <i>Don Carlos</i> has been dramatised in almost all the languages of +Europe. Besides <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>Otway's <i>Carlos</i> so famous at its first appearance, +many tragedies on this subject have been written: most of them are +gathered to their final rest; some are fast going thither; two bid +fair to last for ages. Schiller and Alfieri have both drawn their plot +from St. Réal; the former has expanded and added; the latter has +compressed and abbreviated.</p> + +<p>Schiller's <i>Carlos</i> is the first of his plays that bears the stamp of +anything like full maturity. The opportunities he had enjoyed for +extending his knowledge of men and things, the sedulous practice of +the art of composition, the study of purer models, had not been +without their full effect. Increase of years had done something for +him; diligence had done much more. The ebullience of youth is now +chastened into the steadfast energy of manhood; the wild enthusiast, +that spurned at the errors of the world, has now become the +enlightened moralist, that laments their necessity, or endeavours to +find out their remedy. A corresponding alteration is visible in the +external form of the work, in its plot and diction. The plot is +contrived with great ingenuity, embodying the result of much study, +both dramatic and historical. The language is blank verse, not prose, +as in the former works; it is more careful and regular, less ambitious +in its object, but more certain of attaining it. Schiller's mind had +now reached its full stature: he felt and thought more justly; he +could better express what he felt and thought.</p> + +<p>The merit we noticed in <i>Fiesco</i>, the fidelity with which the scene of +action is brought before us, is observable to a still greater degree +in <i>Don Carlos</i>. The Spanish court in the end of the sixteenth +century; its rigid, cold formalities; its cruel, bigoted, but +proud-spirited grandees; its inquisitors and priests; and Philip, its +head, the epitome at once of its good and its bad qualities, in all +his complex interests, are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> exhibited with wonderful distinctness and +address. Nor is it at the surface or the outward movements alone that +we look; we are taught the mechanism of their characters, as well as +shown it in action. The stony-hearted Despot himself must have been an +object of peculiar study to the author. Narrow in his understanding, +dead in his affections, from his birth the lord of Europe, Philip has +existed all his days above men, not among them. Locked up within +himself, a stranger to every generous and kindly emotion, his gloomy +spirit has had no employment but to strengthen or increase its own +elevation, no pleasure but to gratify its own self-will. Superstition, +harmonising with these native tendencies, has added to their force, +but scarcely to their hatefulness: it lends them a sort of sacredness +in his own eyes, and even a sort of horrid dignity in ours. Philip is +not without a certain greatness, the greatness of unlimited external +power, and of a will relentless in its dictates, guided by principles, +false, but consistent and unalterable. The scene of his existence is +haggard, stern and desolate; but it is all his own, and he seems +fitted for it. We hate him and fear him; but the poet has taken care +to secure him from contempt.</p> + +<p>The contrast both of his father's fortune and character are those of +Carlos. Few situations of a more affecting kind can be imagined, than +the situation of this young, generous and ill-fated prince. From +boyhood his heart had been bent on mighty things; he had looked upon +the royal grandeur that awaited his maturer years, only as the means +of realising those projects for the good of men, which his beneficent +soul was ever busied with. His father's dispositions, and the temper +of the court, which admitted no development of such ideas, had given +the charm of concealment to his feelings; his life had been in +prospect; and we are the more attached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> to him, that deserving to be +glorious and happy, he had but expected to be either. Bright days, +however, seemed approaching; shut out from the communion of the Albas +and Domingos, among whom he lived a stranger, the communion of another +and far dearer object was to be granted him; Elizabeth's love seemed +to make him independent even of the future, which it painted with +still richer hues. But in a moment she is taken from him by the most +terrible of all visitations; his bride becomes his mother; and the +stroke that deprives him of her, while it ruins him forever, is more +deadly, because it cannot be complained of without sacrilege, and +cannot be altered by the power of Fate itself. Carlos, as the poet +represents him, calls forth our tenderest sympathies. His soul seems +once to have been rich and glorious, like the garden of Eden; but the +desert-wind has passed over it, and smitten it with perpetual blight. +Despair has overshadowed all the fair visions of his youth; or if he +hopes, it is but the gleam of delirium, which something sterner than +even duty extinguishes in the cold darkness of death. His energy +survives but to vent itself in wild gusts of reckless passion, or +aimless indignation. There is a touching poignancy in his expression +of the bitter melancholy that oppresses him, in the fixedness of +misery with which he looks upon the faded dreams of former years, or +the fierce ebullitions and dreary pauses of resolution, which now +prompts him to retrieve what he has lost, now withers into +powerlessness, as nature and reason tell him that it cannot, must not +be retrieved.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, no less moving and attractive, is also depicted with +masterly skill. If she returns the passion of her amiable and once +betrothed lover, we but guess at the fact; for so horrible a thought +has never once been whispered to her own gentle and spotless mind. Yet +her heart bleeds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> for Carlos; and we see that did not the most sacred +feelings of humanity forbid her, there is no sacrifice she would not +make to restore his peace of mind. By her soothing influence she +strives to calm the agony of his spirit; by her mild winning eloquence +she would persuade him that for Don Carlos other objects must remain, +when his hopes of personal felicity have been cut off; she would +change his love for her into love for the millions of human beings +whose destiny depends on his. A meek vestal, yet with the prudence of +a queen, and the courage of a matron, with every graceful and generous +quality of womanhood harmoniously blended in her nature, she lives in +a scene that is foreign to her; the happiness she should have had is +beside her, the misery she must endure is around her; yet she utters +no regret, gives way to no complaint, but seeks to draw from duty +itself a compensation for the cureless evil which duty has inflicted. +Many tragic queens are more imposing and majestic than this Elizabeth +of Schiller; but there is none who rules over us with a sway so soft +and feminine, none whom we feel so much disposed to love as well as +reverence.</p> + +<p>The virtues of Elizabeth are heightened by comparison with the +principles and actions of her attendant, the Princess Eboli. The +character of Eboli is full of pomp and profession; magnanimity and +devotedness are on her tongue, some shadow of them even floats in her +imagination; but they are not rooted in her heart; pride, selfishness, +unlawful passion are the only inmates there. Her lofty boastings of +generosity are soon forgotten when the success of her attachment to +Carlos becomes hopeless; the fervour of a selfish love once +extinguished in her bosom, she regards the object of it with none but +vulgar feelings. Virtue no longer according with interest, she ceases +to be virtuous; from a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> rejected mistress the transition to a jealous +spy is with her natural and easy. Yet we do not hate the Princess: +there is a seductive warmth and grace about her character, which makes +us lament her vices rather than condemn them. The poet has drawn her +at once false and fair.</p> + +<p>In delineating Eboli and Philip, Schiller seems as if struggling +against the current of his nature; our feelings towards them are +hardly so severe as he intended; their words and deeds, at least those +of the latter, are wicked and repulsive enough; but we still have a +kind of latent persuasion that they meant better than they spoke or +acted. With the Marquis of Posa, he had a more genial task. This Posa, +we can easily perceive, is the representative of Schiller himself. The +ardent love of men, which forms his ruling passion, was likewise the +constant feeling of his author; the glowing eloquence with which he +advocates the cause of truth, and justice, and humanity, was such as +Schiller too would have employed in similar circumstances. In some +respects, Posa is the chief character of the piece; there is a +preëminent magnificence in his object, and in the faculties and +feelings with which he follows it. Of a splendid intellect, and a +daring devoted heart, his powers are all combined upon a single +purpose. Even his friendship for Carlos, grounded on the likeness of +their minds, and faithful as it is, yet seems to merge in this +paramount emotion, zeal for the universal interests of man. Aiming, +with all his force of thought and action, to advance the happiness and +best rights of his fellow-creatures; pursuing this noble aim with the +skill and dignity which it deserves, his mind is at once unwearied, +earnest and serene. He is another Carlos, but somewhat older, more +experienced, and never crossed in hopeless love. There is a calm +strength in Posa, which no accident of fortune can shake. Whether +cheering the for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>lorn Carlos into new activity; whether lifting up his +voice in the ear of tyrants and inquisitors, or taking leave of life +amid his vast unexecuted schemes, there is the same sedate +magnanimity, the same fearless composure: when the fatal bullet +strikes him, he dies with the concerns of others, not his own, upon +his lips. He is a reformer, the perfection of reformers; not a +revolutionist, but a prudent though determined improver. His +enthusiasm does not burst forth in violence, but in manly and +enlightened energy; his eloquence is not more moving to the heart than +his lofty philosophy is convincing to the head. There is a majestic +vastness of thought in his precepts, which recommends them to the mind +independently of the beauty of their dress. Few passages of poetry are +more spirit-stirring than his last message to Carlos, through the +Queen. The certainty of death seems to surround his spirit with a kind +of martyr glory; he is kindled into transport, and speaks with a +commanding power. The pathetic wisdom of the line, 'Tell him, that +when he is a man, he must reverence the dreams of his youth,' has +often been admired: that scene has many such.</p> + +<p>The interview with Philip is not less excellent. There is something so +striking in the idea of confronting the cold solitary tyrant with 'the +only man in all his states that does not need him;' of raising the +voice of true manhood for once within the gloomy chambers of thraldom +and priestcraft, that we can forgive the stretch of poetic license by +which it is effected. Philip and Posa are antipodes in all respects. +Philip thinks his new instructor is 'a Protestant;' a charge which +Posa rebuts with calm dignity, his object not being separation and +contention, but union and peaceful gradual improvement. Posa seems to +understand the character of Philip better; not attempting to awaken in +his sterile heart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> any feeling for real glory, or the interests of his +fellow-men, he attacks his selfishness and pride, represents to him +the intrinsic meanness and misery of a throne, however decked with +adventitious pomp, if built on servitude, and isolated from the +sympathies and interests of others.</p> + +<p>We translate the entire scene; though not by any means the best, it is +among the fittest for extraction of any in the piece. Posa has been +sent for by the King, and is waiting in a chamber of the palace to +know what is required of him; the King enters, unperceived by Posa, +whose attention is directed to a picture on the wall:</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Act III. Scene X.</span> +<br /> +<small>The <span class="smcap">King</span> and <span class="smcap">Marquis de Posa.</span></small> +</h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p class="directions">[<i>The latter, on noticing the King, advances towards him, and kneels, +then rises, and waits without any symptom of embarrassment.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">King.</span> [<i>looks at him with surprise</i>].<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">We have met before, then?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">No.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">You did my crown</span><br /> +Some service: wherefore have you shunn'd my thanks?<br /> +Our memory is besieged by crowds of suitors;<br /> +Omniscient is none but He in Heaven.<br /> +You should have sought my looks: why did you not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> 'Tis scarcely yet two days, your Majesty,<br /> +Since I returned to Spain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">I am not used</span><br /> +To be my servants' debtor; ask of me<br /> +Some favour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">I enjoy the laws.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">That right</span><br /> +The very murd'rer has.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">And how much more</span><br /> +The honest citizen!—Sire, I'm content.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Much self-respect indeed, and lofty daring!<br /> +But this was to be looked for: I would have<br /> +My Spaniards haughty; better that the cup<br /> +Should overflow than not be full.—I hear<br /> +You left my service, Marquis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">Making way</span><br /> +For men more worthy, I withdrew.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">'Tis wrong:</span><br /> +When spirits such as yours play truant,<br /> +My state must suffer. You conceive, perhaps,<br /> +Some post unworthy of your merits<br /> +Might be offer'd you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">No, Sire, I cannot doubt</span><br /> +But that a judge so skilful, and experienced<br /> +In the gifts of men, has at a glance discover'd<br /> +Wherein I might do him service, wherein not.<br /> +I feel with humble gratitude the favour,<br /> +With which your Majesty is loading me<br /> +By thoughts so lofty: yet I can—<span style="padding-left: 10em">[<i>He stops.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">You pause?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> Sire, at the moment I am scarce prepar'd<br /> +To speak, in phrases of a Spanish subject,<br /> +What as a citizen o' th' world I've thought.<br /> +Truth is, in parting from the Court forever,<br /> +I held myself discharged from all necessity<br /> +Of troubling it with reasons for my absence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> Are your reasons bad, then? Dare you not risk<br /> +Disclosing them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">My life, and joyfully,</span><br /> +Were scope allow'd me to disclose them <i>all</i>.<br /> +'Tis not myself but Truth that I endanger,<br /> +Should the King refuse me a full hearing.<br /> +Your anger or contempt I fain would shun;<br /> +But forced to choose between them, I had rather<br /> +Seem to you a man deserving punishment<br /> +Than pity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>with a look of expectation</i>]. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">The servant of a prince</span><br /> +I cannot be.<span style="padding-left: 6em">[<i>The King looks at him with astonishment.</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">I will not cheat my merchant:</span><br /> +If you deign to take me as your servant,<br /> +You expect, you wish, my actions only;<br /> +You wish my arm in fight, my thought in counsel;<br /> +Nothing more you will accept of: not my actions,<br /> +Th' approval they might find at Court becomes<br /> +The object of my acting. Now for me<br /> +Right conduct has a value of its own:<br /> +The happiness my king might cause me plant<br /> +I would myself produce; and conscious joy,<br /> +And free selection, not the force of duty,<br /> +Should impel me. Is it thus your Majesty<br /> +Requires it? Could you suffer new creators<br /> +In your own creation? Or could I<br /> +Consent with patience to become the chisel,<br /> +When I hoped to be the statuary?<br /> +I love mankind; and in a monarchy,<br /> +Myself is all that I can love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">This fire</span><br /> +Is laudable. You would do good to others;<br /> +How you do it, patriots, wise men think<br /> +Of little moment, so it be but done.<br /> +Seek for yourself the office in my kingdoms<br /> +That will give you scope to gratify<br /> +This noble zeal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">There is not such an office.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">What the king desires to spread abroad</span><br /> +Through these weak hands, is it the good of men?<br /> +That good which my unfetter'd love would wish them?<br /> +Pale majesty would tremble to behold it!<br /> +No! Policy has fashioned in her courts<br /> +Another sort of human good; a sort<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>Which <i>she</i> is rich enough to give away,<br /> +Awakening with it in the hearts of men<br /> +New cravings, such as <i>it</i> can satisfy.<br /> +Truth she keeps coining in her mints, such truth<br /> +As she can tolerate; and every die<br /> +Except her own she breaks and casts away.<br /> +But is the royal bounty wide enough<br /> +For me to wish and work in? Must the love<br /> +I hear my brother pledge itself to be<br /> +My brother's jailor? Can I call him happy<br /> +When he dare not think? Sire, choose some other<br /> +To dispense the good which <i>you</i> have stamped for us.<br /> +With me it tallies not; a prince's servant<br /> +I cannot be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>rather quickly</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 5em">You are a Protestant.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> [<i>after some reflection</i>]<br /> +Sire, your creed is also mine.<span style="padding-left: 10em">[<i>After a pause.</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 12em;">I find</span><br /> +I am misunderstood: 'tis as I feared.<br /> +You see me draw the veil from majesty,<br /> +And view its mysteries with steadfast eye:<br /> +How should you know if I regard as holy<br /> +What I no more regard as terrible?<br /> +Dangerous I seem, for bearing thoughts too high:<br /> +My King, I am not dangerous: my wishes<br /> +Lie buried here.<span style="padding-left: 10em">[<i>Laying his hand on his breast.</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 8em;">The poor and purblind rage</span><br /> +Of innovation, that but aggravates<br /> +The weight o' th' fetters which it cannot break,<br /> +Will never heat <i>my</i> blood. The century<br /> +Admits not my ideas: I live a citizen<br /> +Of those that are to come. Sire, can a picture<br /> +Break your rest? Your breath obliterates it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> No other knows you harbour such ideas?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> Such, no one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>rises, walks a few steps, then stops opposite the Marquis.</i><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>—Aside</i>]. New at least, this dialect!</span><br /> +Flattery exhausts itself: a man of parts<br /> +Disdains to imitate. For once let's have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span><br /> +A trial of the opposite! Why not?<br /> +The strange is oft the lucky.—If so be<br /> +This is your principle, why let it pass!<br /> +I will conform; the crown shall have a servant<br /> +New in Spain,—a liberal!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">Sire, I see</span><br /> +How very meanly you conceive of men;<br /> +How, in the language of the frank true spirit<br /> +You find but another deeper artifice<br /> +Of a more practis'd coz'ner: I can also<br /> +Partly see what causes this. 'Tis men;<br /> +'Tis men that force you to it: they themselves<br /> +Have cast away their own nobility,<br /> +Themselves have crouch'd to this degraded posture.<br /> +Man's innate greatness, like a spectre, frights them;<br /> +Their poverty seems safety; with base skill<br /> +They ornament their chains, and call it virtue<br /> +To wear them with an air of grace. Twas thus<br /> +You found the world; thus from your royal father<br /> +Came it to you: how in this distorted,<br /> +Mutilated image could you honour man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> Some truth there is in this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Pity, however,</span><br /> +That in taking man from the Creator,<br /> +And changing him into <i>your</i> handiwork,<br /> +And setting up yourself to be the god<br /> +Of this new-moulded creature, you should have<br /> +Forgotten one essential; you yourself<br /> +Remained a man, a very child of Adam!<br /> +You are still a suffering, longing mortal,<br /> +You call for sympathy, and to a god<br /> +We can but sacrifice, and pray, and tremble!<br /> +O unwise exchange! unbless'd perversion!<br /> +When you have sunk your brothers to be play'd<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>As harp-strings, who will join in harmony<br /> +With you the player?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>aside</i>].<span style="padding-left: 4em">By Heaven, he touches me!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> For you, however, this is unimportant;<br /> +It but makes you separate, peculiar;<br /> +'Tis the price you pay for being a god.<br /> +And frightful were it if you failed in this!<br /> +If for the desolated good of millions,<br /> +You the Desolator should gain—nothing!<br /> +If the very freedom you have blighted<br /> +And kill'd were that alone which could exalt<br /> +Yourself!—Sire, pardon me, I must not stay:<br /> +The matter makes me rash: my heart is full,<br /> +Too strong the charm of looking on the one<br /> +Of living men to whom I might unfold it.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The Count de Lerma enters, and whispers a few words to the King. The +latter beckons to him to withdraw, and continues sitting in his former +posture.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>to the Marquis, after Lerma is gone</i>].<br /> +Speak on!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> [<i>after a pause</i>] I feel, Sire, all the worth—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Speak on!</span><br /> +Y' had something more to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">Not long since, Sire,</span><br /> +I chanced to pass through Flanders and Brabant.<br /> +So many rich and flourishing provinces;<br /> +A great, a mighty people, and still more,<br /> +An honest people!—And this people's Father!<br /> +That, thought I, must be divine: so thinking,<br /> +I stumbled on a heap of human bones.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>He pauses; his eyes rest on the King, who endeavours to return his +glance, but with an air of embarrassment is forced to look upon the +ground.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">You are in the right, you <i>must</i> proceed so.<br /> +That you <i>could</i> do, what you saw you <i>must</i> do,<br /> +Fills me with a shuddering admiration.<br /> +Pity that the victim welt'ring in its blood<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>Should speak so feeble an eulogium<br /> +On the spirit of the priest! That mere men,<br /> +Not beings of a calmer essence, write<br /> +The annals of the world! Serener ages<br /> +Will displace the age of Philip; these will bring<br /> +A milder wisdom; the subject's good will then<br /> +Be reconcil'd to th' prince's greatness;<br /> +The thrifty State will learn to prize its children,<br /> +And necessity no more will be inhuman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> And when, think you, would those blessed ages<br /> +Have come round, had I recoil'd before<br /> +The curse of this? Behold my Spain! Here blooms<br /> +The subject's good, in never-clouded peace:<br /> +<i>Such</i> peace will I bestow on Flanders.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> Peace of a churchyard! And you hope to end<br /> +What you have entered on? Hope to withstand<br /> +The timeful change of Christendom; to stop<br /> +The universal Spring that shall make young<br /> +The countenance o' th' Earth? <i>You</i> purpose, single<br /> +In all Europe, alone, to fling yourself<br /> +Against the wheel of Destiny that rolls<br /> +For ever its appointed course; to clutch<br /> +Its spokes with mortal arm? You may not, Sire!<br /> +Already thousands have forsook your kingdoms,<br /> +Escaping glad though poor: the citizen<br /> +You lost for conscience' sake, he was your noblest.<br /> +With mother's arms Elizabeth receives<br /> +The fugitives, and rich by foreign skill,<br /> +In fertile strength her England blooms. Forsaken<br /> +Of its toilsome people, lies Grenada<br /> +Desolate; and Europe sees with glad surprise<br /> +Its enemy faint with self-inflicted wounds.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The King seems moved: the Marquis observes it, and advances some +steps nearer.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Plant for Eternity and death the seed?<br /> +Your harvest will be nothingness. The work<br /> +Will not survive the spirit of its former;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>It will be in vain that you have labour'd;<br /> +That you have fought the fight with Nature;<br /> +And to plans of Ruin consecrated<br /> +A high and royal lifetime. Man is greater<br /> +Than you thought. The bondage of long slumber<br /> +He will break; his sacred rights he will reclaim.<br /> +With Nero and Busiris will he rank<br /> +The name of Philip, and—that grieves me, for<br /> +You once were good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">How know you that?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> [<i>with warm energy</i>]<span style="padding-left: 6em">You were;</span><br /> +Yes, by th' All-Merciful! Yes, I repeat it.<br /> +Restore to us what you have taken from us.<br /> +Generous as strong, let human happiness<br /> +Stream from your horn of plenty, let souls ripen<br /> +Round you. Restore us what you took from us.<br /> +Amid a thousand kings become a king.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>He approaches him boldly, fixing on him firm and glowing looks</i>.</p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Oh, could the eloquence of all the millions,<br /> +Who participate in this great moment,<br /> +Hover on my lips, and raise into a flame<br /> +That gleam that kindles in your eyes!<br /> +Give up this false idolatry of self,<br /> +Which makes your brothers nothing! Be to us<br /> +A pattern of the Everlasting and the True!<br /> +Never, never, did a mortal hold so much,<br /> +To use it so divinely. All the kings<br /> +Of Europe reverence the name of Spain:<br /> +Go on in front of all the kings of Europe!<br /> +One movement of your pen, and new-created<br /> +Is the Earth. Say but, Let there be freedom!<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 14em">[<i>Throwing himself at his feet.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>surprised, turning his face away, then again towards Posa</i>].<br /> +Singular enthusiast! Yet—rise—I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> Look round and view God's lordly universe:<br /> +On Freedom it is founded, and how rich<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>Is it with Freedom! He, the great Creator,<br /> +Has giv'n the very worm its sev'ral dewdrop;<br /> +Ev'n in the mouldering spaces of Decay,<br /> +He leaves Free-will the pleasures of a choice.<br /> +This world of <i>yours</i>! how narrow and how poor!<br /> +The rustling of a leaf alarms the lord<br /> +Of Christendom. You quake at every virtue;<br /> +He, not to mar the glorious form of Freedom,<br /> +Suffers that the hideous hosts of Evil<br /> +Should run riot in his fair Creation.<br /> +Him the maker we behold not; calm<br /> +He veils himself in everlasting laws,<br /> +Which and not Him the sceptic seeing exclaims,<br /> +'Wherefore a God? The World itself is God.'<br /> +And never did a Christian's adoration<br /> +So praise him as this sceptic's blasphemy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> And such a model you would undertake,<br /> +On Earth, in my domains to imitate?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> You, you can: who else? To th' people's good<br /> +Devote the kingly power, which far too long<br /> +Has struggled for the greatness of the throne.<br /> +Restore the lost nobility of man.<br /> +Once more make of the subject what he was,<br /> +The purpose of the Crown; let no tie bind him,<br /> +Except his brethren's right, as sacred as<br /> +His own. And when, given back to self-dependence,<br /> +Man awakens to the feeling of his worth,<br /> +And freedom's proud and lofty virtues blossom,<br /> +Then, Sire, having made <i>your</i> realms the happiest<br /> +In the Earth, it may become your duty<br /> +To subdue the realms of others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>after a long pause</i>].<br /> +I have heard you to an end.<br /> +Not as in common heads, the world is painted<br /> +In that head of yours: nor will I mete you<br /> +By the common standard. I am the first<br /> +To whom your heart has been disclosed:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>I know this, so believe it. For the sake<br /> +Of such forbearance; for your having kept<br /> +Ideas, embraced with such devotion, secret<br /> +Up to this present moment, for the sake<br /> +Of that reserve, young man, I will forget<br /> +That I have learned them, and how I learned them.<br /> +Arise. The headlong youth I will set right,<br /> +Not as his sovereign, but as his senior.<br /> +I will, because I will. So! bane itself,<br /> +I find, in generous natures may become<br /> +Ennobled into something better. But<br /> +Beware my Inquisition! It would grieve me<br /> +If you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> Would it? would it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>gazing at him, and lost in surprise</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 13em">Such a mortal</span><br /> +Till this hour I never saw. No, Marquis!<br /> +No! You do me wrong. To you I will not<br /> +Be a Nero, not to you. <i>All</i> happiness<br /> +Shall not be blighted by me: you yourself<br /> +Shall be permitted to remain a man<br /> +Beside me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> [<i>quickly</i>] And my fellow-subjects, Sire?<br /> +Oh, not for <i>me</i>, not <i>my</i> cause was I pleading.<br /> +And your subjects, Sire?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">You see so clearly</span><br /> +How posterity will judge of me; yourself<br /> +Shall teach it how I treated men so soon<br /> +As I had found one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">O Sire! in being</span><br /> +The most just of kings, at the same instant<br /> +Be not the most unjust! In your Flanders<br /> +Are many thousands worthier than I.<br /> +'Tis but yourself,—shall I confess it, Sire?—<br /> +That under this mild form first truly see<br /> +What freedom is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>with softened earnestness</i>].<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">Young man, no more of this.</span><br /> +Far differently will you think of men,<br /> +When you have seen and studied them as I have.<br /> +Yet our first meeting must not be our last;<br /> +How shall I try to make you mine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mar.</span> <span style="padding-left: 10em">Sire, let me</span><br /> +Continue as I am. What good were it<br /> +To you, if I like others were corrupted?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">King.</span> This pride I will not suffer. From this moment<br /> +You are in my service. No remonstrance!<br /> +I will have it so. * * * * * +</p> +</div> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Had the character of Posa been drawn ten years later, it would have +been imputed, as all things are, to the 'French Revolution;' and +Schiller himself perhaps might have been called a Jacobin. Happily, as +matters stand, there is room for no such imputation. It is pleasing to +behold in Posa the deliberate expression of a great and good man's +sentiments on these ever-agitated subjects: a noble monument, +embodying the liberal ideas of his age, in a form beautified by his +own genius, and lasting as its other products.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p> + +<p>Connected with the superior excellence of Posa, critics have remarked +a dramatic error, which the author himself was the first to +acknowledge and account for. The magnitude of Posa throws Carlos into +the shade; the hero of the first three acts is no longer the hero of +the other two. The cause of this, we are informed, was that Schiller +kept the work too long upon his own hands:</p> + +<p>'In composing the piece,' he observes, 'many interruptions occurred; +so that a considerable time elapsed between beginning and concluding +it; and, in the mean while, much within myself had changed. The +various alterations which, during this period, my way of thinking and +feeling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> underwent, naturally told upon the work I was engaged with. +What parts of it had at first attracted me, began to produce this +effect in a weaker degree, and, in the end, scarcely at all. New +ideas, springing up in the interim, displaced the former ones; Carlos +himself had lost my favour, perhaps for no other reason than because I +had become his senior; and, from the opposite cause, Posa had occupied +his place. Thus I commenced the fourth and fifth acts with quite an +altered heart. But the first three were already in the hands of the +public; the plan of the whole could not now be re-formed; nothing +therefore remained but to suppress the piece entirely, or to fit the +second half to the first the best way I could.'</p> + +<p>The imperfection alluded to is one of which the general reader will +make no great account; the second half is fitted to the first with +address enough for his purposes. Intent not upon applying the dramatic +gauge, but on being moved and exalted, we may peruse the tragedy +without noticing that any such defect exists in it. The pity and love +we are first taught to feel for Carlos abide with us to the last; and +though Posa rises in importance as the piece proceeds, our admiration +of his transcendent virtues does not obstruct the gentler feelings +with which we look upon the fate of his friend. A certain confusion +and crowding together of events, about the end of the play, is the +only fault in its plan that strikes us with any force. Even this is +scarcely prominent enough to be offensive.</p> + +<p>An intrinsic and weightier defect is the want of ease and lightness in +the general composition of the piece; a defect which, all its other +excellencies will not prevent us from observing. There is action +enough in the plot, energy enough in the dialogue, and abundance of +individual beauties in both; but there is throughout a certain air of +stiffness and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> effort, which abstracts from the theatrical illusion. +The language, in general impressive and magnificent, is now and then +inflated into bombast. The characters do not, as it were, verify their +human nature, by those thousand little touches and nameless turns, +which distinguish the genius essentially dramatic from the genius +merely poetical; the Proteus of the stage from the philosophic +observer and trained imitator of life. We have not those careless +felicities, those varyings from high to low, that air of living +freedom which Shakspeare has accustomed us, like spoiled children, to +look for in every perfect work of this species. Schiller is too +elevated, too regular and sustained in his elevation, to be altogether +natural.</p> + +<p>Yet with all this, <i>Carlos</i> is a noble tragedy. There is a stately +massiveness about the structure of it; the incidents are grand and +affecting; the characters powerful, vividly conceived, and +impressively if not completely delineated. Of wit and its kindred +graces Schiller has but a slender share: nor among great poets is he +much distinguished for depth or fineness of pathos. But what gives him +a place of his own, and the loftiest of its kind, is the vastness and +intense vigour of his mind; the splendour of his thoughts and imagery, +and the bold vehemence of his passion for the true and the sublime, +under all their various forms. He does not thrill, but he exalts us. +His genius is impetuous, exuberant, majestic; and a heavenly fire +gleams through all his creations. He transports us into a holier and +higher world than our own; everything around us breathes of force and +solemn beauty. The looks of his heroes may be more staid than those of +men, the movements of their minds may be slower and more calculated; +but we yield to the potency of their endowments, and the loveliness of +the scene which they animate. The enchantments of the poet are strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +enough to silence our scepticism; we forbear to inquire whether it is +true or false.</p> + +<p>The celebrity of Alfieri generally invites the reader of <i>Don Carlos</i> +to compare it with <i>Filippo</i>. Both writers treat the same subject; +both borrow their materials from the same source, the <i>nouvelle +historique</i> of St. Réal: but it is impossible that two powerful minds +could have handled one given idea in more diverse manners. Their +excellencies are, in fact, so opposite, that they scarcely come in +competition. Alfieri's play is short, and the characters are few. He +describes no scene: his personages are not the King of Spain and his +courtiers, but merely men; their place of action is not the Escurial +or Madrid, but a vacant, objectless platform anywhere in space. In all +this, Schiller has a manifest advantage. He paints manners and +opinions, he sets before us a striking pageant, which interests us of +itself, and gives a new interest to whatever is combined with it. The +principles of the antique, or perhaps rather of the French drama, upon +which Alfieri worked, permitted no such delineation. In the style +there is the same diversity. A severe simplicity uniformly marks +Alfieri's style; in his whole tragedy there is not a single figure. A +hard emphatic brevity is all that distinguishes his language from that +of prose. Schiller, we have seen, abounds with noble metaphors, and +all the warm exciting eloquence of poetry. It is only in expressing +the character of Philip that Alfieri has a clear superiority. Without +the aid of superstition, which his rival, especially in the +catastrophe, employs to such advantage, Alfieri has exhibited in his +Filippo a picture of unequalled power. Obscurity is justly said to be +essential to terror and sublimity; and Schiller has enfeebled the +effect of his Tyrant, by letting us behold the most secret recesses of +his spirit: we understand him better, but we fear him less. Alfieri +does not show us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> the internal combination of Filippo: it is from its +workings alone that we judge of his nature. Mystery, and the shadow of +horrid cruelty, brood over his Filippo: it is only a transient word or +act that gives us here and there a glimpse of his fierce, implacable, +tremendous soul; a short and dubious glimmer that reveals to us the +abysses of his being, dark, lurid, and terrific, 'as the throat of the +infernal Pool.' Alfieri's Filippo is perhaps the most wicked man that +human imagination has conceived.</p> + +<p>Alfieri and Schiller were again unconscious competitors in the history +of Mary Stuart. But the works before us give a truer specimen of their +comparative merits. Schiller seems to have the greater genius; Alfieri +the more commanding character. Alfieri's greatness rests on the stern +concentration of fiery passion, under the dominion of an adamantine +will: this was his own make of mind; and he represents it, with +strokes in themselves devoid of charm, but in their union terrible as +a prophetic scroll. Schiller's moral force is commensurate with his +intellectual gifts, and nothing more. The mind of the one is like the +ocean, beautiful in its strength, smiling in the radiance of summer, +and washing luxuriant and romantic shores: that of the other is like +some black unfathomable lake placed far amid the melancholy mountains; +bleak, solitary, desolate; but girdled with grim sky-piercing cliffs, +overshadowed with storms, and illuminated only by the red glare of the +lightning. Schiller is magnificent in his expansion, Alfieri is +overpowering in his condensed energy; the first inspires us with +greater admiration, the last with greater awe.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">This tragedy of <i>Carlos</i> was received with immediate and universal +approbation. In the closet and on the stage, it excited the warmest +applauses equally among the learned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> and unlearned. Schiller's +expectations had not been so high: he knew both the excellencies and +the faults of his work; but he had not anticipated that the former +would be recognised so instantaneously. The pleasure of this new +celebrity came upon him, therefore, heightened by surprise. Had +dramatic eminence been his sole object, he might now have slackened +his exertions; the public had already ranked him as the first of their +writers in that favourite department. But this limited ambition was +not his moving principle; nor was his mind of that sort for which rest +is provided in this world. The primary disposition of his nature urged +him to perpetual toil: the great aim of his life, the unfolding of his +mental powers, was one of those which admit but a relative not an +absolute progress. New ideas of perfection arise as the former have +been reached; the student is always attaining, never has attained.</p> + +<p>Schiller's worldly circumstances, too, were of a kind well calculated +to prevent excess of quietism. He was still drifting at large on the +tide of life; he was crowned with laurels, but without a home. His +heart, warm and affectionate, fitted to enjoy the domestic blessings +which it longed for, was allowed to form no permanent attachment: he +felt that he was unconnected, solitary in the world; cut off from the +exercise of his kindlier sympathies; or if tasting such pleasures, it +was 'snatching them rather than partaking of them calmly.' The vulgar +desire of wealth and station never entered his mind for an instant: +but as years were added to his age, the delights of peace and +continuous comfort were fast becoming more acceptable than any other; +and he looked with anxiety to have a resting-place amid his +wanderings, to be a man among his fellow-men.</p> + +<p>For all these wishes, Schiller saw that the only chance of fulfilment +depended on unwearied perseverance in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> literary occupations. Yet +though his activity was unabated, and the calls on it were increasing +rather than diminished, its direction was gradually changing. The +Drama had long been stationary, and of late been falling in his +estimation: the difficulties of the art, as he viewed it at present, +had been overcome, and new conquests invited him in other quarters. +The latter part of <i>Carlos</i> he had written as a task rather than a +pleasure; he contemplated no farther undertaking connected with the +Stage. For a time, indeed, he seems to have wavered among a +multiplicity of enterprises; now solicited to this, and now to that, +without being able to fix decidedly on any. The restless ardour of his +mind is evinced by the number and variety of his attempts; its +fluctuation by the circumstance that all of them are either short in +extent, or left in the state of fragments. Of the former kind are his +lyrical productions, many of which were composed about this period, +during intervals from more serious labours. The character of these +performances is such as his former writings gave us reason to expect. +With a deep insight into life, and a keen and comprehensive sympathy +with its sorrows and enjoyments, there is combined that impetuosity of +feeling, that pomp of thought and imagery which belong peculiarly to +Schiller. If he had now left the Drama, it was clear that his mind was +still overflowing with the elements of poetry; dwelling among the +grandest conceptions, and the boldest or finest emotions; thinking +intensely and profoundly, but decorating its thoughts with those +graces, which other faculties than the understanding are required to +afford them. With these smaller pieces, Schiller occupied himself at +intervals of leisure throughout the remainder of his life. Some of +them are to be classed among the most finished efforts of his genius. +The <i>Walk</i>, the <i>Song of the Bell</i>, contain exquisite delineations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> of +the fortunes and history of man; his <i>Ritter Toggenburg</i>, his <i>Cranes +of Ibycus</i>, his <i>Hero and Leander</i>, are among the most poetical and +moving ballads to be found in any language.</p> + +<p>Of these poems, the most noted written about this time, the +<i>Freethinking of Passion</i> (<i>Freigeisterei der Leidenschaft</i>), is said +to have originated in a real attachment. The lady, whom some +biographers of Schiller introduce to us by the mysterious designation +of the 'Fräulein A * * *, one of the first beauties in Dresden,' seems +to have made a deep impression on the heart of the poet. They tell us +that she sat for the picture of the princess Eboli, in his <i>Don +Carlos</i>; that he paid his court to her with the most impassioned +fervour, and the extreme of generosity. They add one or two anecdotes +of dubious authenticity; which, as they illustrate nothing, but show +us only that love could make Schiller crazy, as it is said to make all +gods and men, we shall use the freedom to omit.</p> + +<p>This enchanting and not inexorable spinster perhaps displaced the +Mannheim <i>Laura</i> from her throne; but the gallant assiduities, which +she required or allowed, seem not to have abated the zeal of her +admirer in his more profitable undertakings. Her reign, we suppose, +was brief and without abiding influence. Schiller never wrote or +thought with greater diligence than while at Dresden. Partially +occupied with conducting his <i>Thalia</i>, or with those more slight +poetical performances, his mind was hovering among a multitude of +weightier plans, and seizing with avidity any hint that might assist +in directing its attempts. To this state of feeling we are probably +indebted for the <i>Geisterseher</i>, a novel, naturalised in our +circulating libraries by the title of the <i>Ghostseer</i>, two volumes of +which were published about this time. The king of quacks, the renowned +Cagliostro, was now playing his dextrous game at Paris; harrowing-up +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> souls of the curious and gullible of all ranks in that capital, +by various thaumaturgic feats; raising the dead from their graves; +and, what was more to the purpose, raising himself from the station of +a poor Sicilian lacquey to that of a sumptuous and extravagant count. +The noise of his exploits appears to have given rise to this work of +Schiller's. It is an attempt to exemplify the process of hoodwinking +an acute but too sensitive man; of working on the latent germ of +superstition, which exists beneath his outward scepticism; harassing +his mind by the terrors of magic,—the magic of chemistry and natural +philosophy and natural cunning; till, racked by doubts and agonising +fears, and plunging from one depth of dark uncertainty into another, +he is driven at length to still his scruples in the bosom of the +Infallible Church. The incidents are contrived with considerable +address, displaying a familiar acquaintance, not only with several +branches of science, but also with some curious forms of life and +human nature. One or two characters are forcibly drawn; particularly +that of the amiable but feeble Count, the victim of the operation. The +strange Foreigner, with the visage of stone, who conducts the business +of mystification, strikes us also, though we see but little of him. +The work contains some vivid description, some passages of deep +tragical effect: it has a vein of keen observation; in general, a +certain rugged power, which might excite regret that it was never +finished. But Schiller found that his views had been mistaken: it was +thought that he meant only to electrify his readers, by an +accumulation of surprising horrors, in a novel of the Mrs. Radcliffe +fashion. He felt, in consequence, discouraged to proceed; and finally +abandoned it.</p> + +<p>Schiller was, in fact, growing tired of fictitious writing. +Imagination was with him a strong, not an exclusive, perhaps not even +a predominating faculty: in the sublimest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> flights of his genius, +intellect is a quality as conspicuous as any other; we are frequently +not more delighted with the grandeur of the drapery in which he +clothes his thoughts, than with the grandeur of the thoughts +themselves. To a mind so restless, the cultivation of all its powers +was a peremptory want; in one so earnest, the love of truth was sure +to be among its strongest passions. Even while revelling, with unworn +ardour, in the dreamy scenes of the Imagination, he had often cast a +longing look, and sometimes made a hurried inroad, into the calmer +provinces of reason: but the first effervescence of youth was past, +and now more than ever, the love of contemplating or painting things +as they should be, began to yield to the love of knowing things as +they are. The tendency of his mind was gradually changing; he was +about to enter on a new field of enterprise, where new triumphs +awaited him.</p> + +<p>For a time he had hesitated what to choose; at length he began to +think of History. As a leading object of pursuit, this promised him +peculiar advantages. It was new to him; and fitted to employ some of +his most valuable gifts. It was grounded on reality, for which, as we +have said, his taste was now becoming stronger; its mighty revolutions +and events, and the commanding characters that figure in it, would +likewise present him with things great and moving, for which his taste +had always been strong. As recording the past transactions, and +indicating the prospects of nations, it could not fail to be +delightful to one, for whom not only human nature was a matter of most +fascinating speculation, but who looked on all mankind with the +sentiments of a brother, feeling truly what he often said, that 'he +had no dearer wish than to see every living mortal happy and contented +with his lot.' To all these advantages another of a humbler sort was +added, but which the nature of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> situation forbade him to lose +sight of. The study of History, while it afforded him a subject of +continuous and regular exertion, would also afford him, what was even +more essential, the necessary competence of income for which he felt +reluctant any longer to depend on the resources of poetry, but which +the produce of his pen was now the only means he had of realising.</p> + +<p>For these reasons, he decided on commencing the business of historian. +The composition of <i>Don Carlos</i> had already led him to investigate the +state of Spain under Philip II.; and, being little satisfied with +Watson's clear but shallow Work on that reign, he had turned to the +original sources of information, the writings of Grotius, Strada, De +Thou, and many others. Investigating these with his usual fidelity and +eagerness, the Revolt of the Netherlands had, by degrees, become +familiar to his thoughts; distinct in many parts where it was +previously obscure; and attractive, as it naturally must be to a +temper such as his. He now determined that his first historical +performance should be a narrative of that event. He resolved to +explore the minutest circumstance of its rise and progress; to arrange +the materials he might collect, in a more philosophical order; to +interweave with them the general opinions he had formed, or was +forming, on many points of polity, and national or individual +character; and, if possible, to animate the whole with that warm +sympathy, which, in a lover of Freedom, this most glorious of her +triumphs naturally called forth.</p> + +<p>In the filling-up of such an outline, there was scope enough for +diligence. But it was not in Schiller's nature to content himself with +ordinary efforts; no sooner did a project take hold of his mind, than, +rallying round it all his accomplishments and capabilities, he +stretched it out into something so magnificent and comprehensive, that +little less<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> than a lifetime would have been sufficient to effect it. +This History of the Revolt of the Netherlands, which formed his chief +study, he looked upon but as one branch of the great subject he was +yet destined to engage with. History at large, in all its bearings, +was now his final aim; and his mind was continually occupied with +plans for acquiring, improving, and diffusing the knowledge of it.</p> + +<p>Of these plans many never reached a describable shape; very few +reached even partial execution. One of the latter sort was an intended +<i>History of the most remarkable Conspiracies and Revolutions in the +Middle and Later Ages</i>. A first volume of the work was published in +1787. Schiller's part in it was trifling; scarcely more than that of a +translator and editor. St. Réal's <i>Conspiracy of Bedmar against +Venice</i>, here furnished with an extended introduction, is the best +piece in the book. Indeed, St. Réal seems first to have set him on +this task: the Abbé had already signified his predilection for plots +and revolutions, and given a fine sample of his powers in treating +such matters. What Schiller did was to expand this idea, and +communicate a systematic form to it. His work might have been curious +and valuable, had it been completed; but the pressure of other +engagements, the necessity of limiting his views to the Netherlands, +prevented this for the present; it was afterwards forgotten, and never +carried farther.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Such were Schiller's occupations while at Dresden; their extent and +variety are proof enough that idleness was not among his vices. It +was, in truth, the opposite extreme in which he erred. He wrote and +thought with an impetuosity beyond what nature always could endure. +His intolerance of interruptions first put him on the plan of studying +by night; an alluring but pernicious practice, which began at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +Dresden, and was never afterwards forsaken. His recreations breathed a +similar spirit; he loved to be much alone, and strongly moved. The +banks of the Elbe were the favourite resort of his mornings: here +wandering in solitude amid groves and lawns, and green and beautiful +places, he abandoned his mind to delicious musings; watched the fitful +current of his thoughts, as they came sweeping through his soul in +their vague, fantastic, gorgeous forms; pleased himself with the +transient images of memory and hope; or meditated on the cares and +studies which had lately been employing, and were again soon to employ +him. At times, he might be seen floating on the river in a gondola, +feasting himself with the loveliness of earth and sky. He delighted +most to be there when tempests were abroad; his unquiet spirit found a +solace in the expression of his own unrest on the face of Nature; +danger lent a charm to his situation; he felt in harmony with the +scene, when the rack was sweeping stormfully across the heavens, and +the forests were sounding in the breeze, and the river was rolling its +chafed waters into wild eddying heaps.</p> + +<p>Yet before the darkness summoned him exclusively to his tasks, +Schiller commonly devoted a portion of his day to the pleasures of +society. Could he have found enjoyment in the flatteries of admiring +hospitality, his present fame would have procured them for him in +abundance. But these things were not to Schiller's taste. His opinion +of the 'flesh-flies' of Leipzig we have already seen: he retained the +same sentiments throughout all his life. The idea of being what we +call a <i>lion</i> is offensive enough to any man, of not more than common +vanity, or less than common understanding; it was doubly offensive to +him. His pride and his modesty alike forbade it. The delicacy of his +nature, aggravated into shyness by his education and his habits,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +rendered situations of display more than usually painful to him; the +<i>digito prætereuntium</i> was a sort of celebration he was far from +coveting. In the circles of fashion he appeared unwillingly, and +seldom to advantage: their glitter and parade were foreign to his +disposition; their strict ceremonial cramped the play of his mind. +Hemmed in, as by invisible fences, among the intricate barriers of +etiquette, so feeble, so inviolable, he felt constrained and helpless; +alternately chagrined and indignant. It was the giant among pigmies; +Gulliver, in Lilliput, tied down by a thousand packthreads. But there +were more congenial minds, with whom he could associate; more familiar +scenes, in which he found the pleasures he was seeking. Here Schiller +was himself; frank, unembarrassed, pliant to the humour of the hour. +His conversation was delightful, abounding at once in rare and simple +charms. Besides the intellectual riches which it carried with it, +there was that flow of kindliness and unaffected good humour, which +can render dulness itself agreeable. Schiller had many friends in +Dresden, who loved him as a man, while they admired him as a writer. +Their intercourse was of the kind he liked, sober, as well as free and +mirthful. It was the careless, calm, honest effusion of his feelings +that he wanted, not the noisy tumults and coarse delirium of +dissipation. For this, under any of its forms, he at no time showed +the smallest relish.</p> + +<p>A visit to Weimar had long been one of Schiller's projects: he now +first accomplished it in 1787. Saxony had been, for ages, the Attica +of Germany; and Weimar had, of late, become its Athens. In this +literary city, Schiller found what he expected, sympathy and +brotherhood with men of kindred minds. To Goethe he was not +introduced;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> Herder and Wieland received him with a cordial +welcome; with the latter he soon formed a most friendly intimacy. +Wieland, the Nestor of German letters, was grown gray in the service: +Schiller reverenced him as a father, and he was treated by him as a +son. 'We shall have bright hours,' he said; 'Wieland is still young, +when he loves.' Wieland had long edited the <i>Deutsche Mercur</i>: in +consequence of their connexion, Schiller now took part in contributing +to that work. Some of his smaller poems, one or two fragments of the +History of the Netherlands, and the <i>Letters on Don Carlos</i>, first +appeared here. His own <i>Thalia</i> still continued to come out at +Leipzig. With these for his incidental employments, with the Belgian +Revolt for his chief study, and the best society in Germany for his +leisure, Schiller felt no wish to leave Weimar. The place and what it +held contented him so much, that he thought of selecting it for his +permanent abode. 'You know the men,' he writes, 'of whom Germany is +proud; a Herder, a Wieland, with their brethren; and one wall now +encloses me and them. What excellencies are in Weimar! In this city, +at least in this territory, I mean to settle for life, and at length +once more to get a country.'</p> + +<p>So occupied and so intentioned, he continued to reside at Weimar. Some +months after his arrival, he received an invitation from his early +patroness and kind protectress, Madam von Wolzogen, to come and visit +her at Bauerbach. Schiller went accordingly to this his ancient city +of refuge; he again found all the warm hospitality, which he had of +old experienced when its character could less be mistaken; but his +excursion thither produced more lasting effects than this. At +Rudolstadt, where he stayed for a time on occasion of this journey, he +met with a new friend. It was here that he first saw the Fräulein +Lengefeld, a lady whose attrac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>tions made him loth to leave +Rudolstadt, and eager to return.</p> + +<p>Next year he did return; he lived from May till November there or in +the neighbourhood. He was busy as usual, and he visited the Lengefeld +family almost every day. Schiller's views on marriage, his longing for +'a civic and domestic existence,' we already know. 'To be united with +a person,' he had said, 'that shares our sorrows and our joys, that +responds to our feelings, that moulds herself so pliantly, so closely +to our humours; reposing on her calm and warm affection, to relax our +spirit from a thousand distractions, a thousand wild wishes and +tumultuous passions; to dream away all the bitterness of fortune, in +the bosom of domestic enjoyment; this the true delight of life.' Some +years had elapsed since he expressed these sentiments, which time had +confirmed, not weakened: the presence of the Fräulein Lengefeld awoke +them into fresh activity. He loved this lady; the return of love, with +which she honoured him, diffused a sunshine over all his troubled +world; and, if the wish of being hers excited more impatient thoughts +about the settlement of his condition, it also gave him fresh strength +to attain it. He was full of occupation, while in Rudolstadt; ardent, +serious, but not unhappy. His literary projects were proceeding as +before; and, besides the enjoyment of virtuous love, he had that of +intercourse with many worthy and some kindred minds.</p> + +<p>Among these, the chief in all respects was Goethe. It was during his +present visit, that Schiller first met with this illustrious person; +concerning whom, both by reading and report, his expectations had been +raised so high. No two men, both of exalted genius, could be possessed +of more different sorts of excellence, than the two that were now +brought together, in a large company of their mutual friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> The +English reader may form some approximate conception of the contrast, +by figuring an interview between Shakspeare and Milton. How gifted, +how diverse in their gifts! The mind of the one plays calmly, in its +capricious and inimitable graces, over all the provinces of human +interest; the other concentrates powers as vast, but far less various, +on a few subjects; the one is catholic, the other is sectarian. The +first is endowed with an all-comprehending spirit; skilled, as if by +personal experience, in all the modes of human passion and opinion; +therefore, tolerant of all; peaceful, collected; fighting for no class +of men or principles; rather looking on the world, and the various +battles waging in it, with the quiet eye of one already reconciled to +the futility of their issues; but pouring over all the forms of +many-coloured life the light of a deep and subtle intellect, and the +decorations of an overflowing fancy; and allowing men and things of +every shape and hue to have their own free scope in his conception, as +they have it in the world where Providence has placed them. The other +is earnest, devoted; struggling with a thousand mighty projects of +improvement; feeling more intensely as he feels more narrowly; +rejecting vehemently, choosing vehemently; at war with the one half of +things, in love with the other half; hence dissatisfied, impetuous, +without internal rest, and scarcely conceiving the possibility of such +a state. Apart from the difference of their opinions and mental +culture, Shakspeare and Milton seem to have stood in some such +relation as this to each other, in regard to the primary structure of +their minds. So likewise, in many points, was it with Goethe and +Schiller. The external circumstances of the two were, moreover, such +as to augment their several peculiarities. Goethe was in his +thirty-ninth year; and had long since found his proper rank and +settlement in life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> Schiller was ten years younger, and still without +a fixed destiny; on both of which accounts, his fundamental scheme of +thought, the principles by which he judged and acted, and maintained +his individuality, although they might be settled, were less likely to +be sobered and matured. In these circumstances we can hardly wonder +that on Schiller's part the first impression was not very pleasant. +Goethe sat talking of Italy, and art, and travelling, and a thousand +other subjects, with that flow of brilliant and deep sense, sarcastic +humour, knowledge, fancy and good nature, which is said to render him +the best talker now alive.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> Schiller looked at him in quite a +different mood; he felt his natural constraint increased under the +influence of a man so opposite in character, so potent in resources, +so singular and so expert in using them; a man whom he could not agree +with, and knew not how to contradict. Soon after their interview, he +thus writes:</p> + +<p>'On the whole, this personal meeting has not at all diminished the +idea, great as it was, which I had previously formed of Goethe; but I +doubt whether we shall ever come into any close communication with +each other. Much that still interests me has already had its epoch +with him. His whole nature is, from its very origin, otherwise +constructed than mine; his world is not my world; our modes of +conceiving things appear to be essentially different. From such a +combination, no secure, substantial intimacy can result. Time will +try.'</p> + +<p>The aid of time was not, in fact, unnecessary. On the part of Goethe +there existed prepossessions no less hostile; and derived from sources +older and deeper than the present transitory meeting, to the +discontents of which they probably contributed. He himself has lately +stated them with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> his accustomed frankness and good humour, in a +paper, part of which some readers may peruse with an interest more +than merely biographical.</p> + +<p>'On my return from Italy,' he says, 'where I had been endeavouring to +train myself to greater purity and precision in all departments of +art, not heeding what meanwhile was going on in Germany, I found here +some older and some more recent works of poetry, enjoying high esteem +and wide circulation, while unhappily their character to me was +utterly offensive. I shall only mention Heinse's <i>Ardinghello</i> and +Schiller's <i>Robbers</i>. The first I hated for its having undertaken to +exhibit sensuality and mystical abstruseness, ennobled and supported +by creative art: the last, because in it, the very paradoxes moral and +dramatic, from which I was struggling to get liberated, had been laid +hold of by a powerful though an immature genius, and poured in a +boundless rushing flood over all our country.</p> + +<p>'Neither of these gifted individuals did I blame for what he had +performed or purposed: it is the nature and the privilege of every +mortal to attempt working in his own peculiar way; he attempts it +first without culture, scarcely with the consciousness of what he is +about; and continues it with consciousness increasing as his culture +increases; whereby it happens that so many exquisite and so many +paltry things are to be found circulating in the world, and one +perplexity is seen to rise from the ashes of another.</p> + +<p>'But the rumour which these strange productions had excited over +Germany, the approbation paid to them by every class of persons, from +the wild student to the polished court-lady, frightened me; for I now +thought all my labour was to prove in vain; the objects, and the way +of handling them, to which I had been exercising all my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> powers, +appeared as if defaced and set aside. And what grieved me still more +was, that all the friends connected with me, Heinrich Meyer and +Moritz, as well as their fellow-artists Tischbein and Bury, seemed in +danger of the like contagion. I was much hurt. Had it been possible, I +would have abandoned the study of creative art, and the practice of +poetry altogether; for where was the prospect of surpassing those +performances of genial worth and wild form, in the qualities which +recommended them? Conceive my situation. It had been my object and my +task to cherish and impart the purest exhibitions of poetic art; and +here was I hemmed in between Ardinghello and Franz von Moor!</p> + +<p>'It happened also about this time that Moritz returned from Italy, and +stayed with me awhile; during which, he violently confirmed himself +and me in these persuasions. I avoided Schiller, who was now at +Weimar, in my neighbourhood. The appearance of <i>Don Carlos</i> was not +calculated to approximate us; the attempts of our common friends I +resisted; and thus we still continued to go on our way apart.'</p> + +<p>By degrees, however, both parties found that they had been mistaken. +The course of accidents brought many things to light, which had been +hidden; the true character of each became unfolded more and more +completely to the other; and the cold, measured tribute of respect was +on both sides animated and exalted by feelings of kindness, and +ultimately of affection. Ere long, Schiller had by gratifying proofs +discovered that 'this Goethe was a very worthy man;' and Goethe, in +his love of genius, and zeal for the interests of literature, was +performing for Schiller the essential duties of a friend, even while +his personal repugnance continued unabated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>A strict similarity of characters is not necessary, or perhaps very +favourable, to friendship. To render it complete, each party must no +doubt be competent to understand the other; both must be possessed of +dispositions kindred in their great lineaments: but the pleasure of +comparing our ideas and emotions is heightened, when there is +'likeness in unlikeness.' <i>The same sentiments, different opinions</i>, +Rousseau conceives to be the best material of friendship: reciprocity +of kind words and actions is more effectual than all. Luther loved +Melancthon; Johnson was not more the friend of Edmund Burke than of +poor old Dr. Levitt. Goethe and Schiller met again; as they ultimately +came to live together, and to see each other oftener, they liked each +other better; they became associates, friends; and the harmony of +their intercourse, strengthened by many subsequent communities of +object, was never interrupted, till death put an end to it. Goethe, in +his time, has done many glorious things; but few on which he should +look back with greater pleasure than his treatment of Schiller. +Literary friendships are said to be precarious, and of rare +occurrence: the rivalry of interest disturbs their continuance; a +rivalry greater, where the subject of competition is one so vague, +impalpable and fluctuating, as the favour of the public; where the +feeling to be gratified is one so nearly allied to vanity, the most +irritable, arid and selfish feeling of the human heart. Had Goethe's +prime motive been the love of fame, he must have viewed with +repugnance, not the misdirection but the talents of the rising genius, +advancing with such rapid strides to dispute with him the palm of +intellectual primacy, nay as the million thought, already in +possession of it; and if a sense of his own dignity had withheld him +from offering obstructions, or uttering any whisper of discontent, +there is none but a truly patrician spirit that would cordially have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +offered aid. To being secretly hostile and openly indifferent, the +next resource was to enact the patron; to solace vanity, by helping +the rival whom he could not hinder, and who could do without his help. +Goethe adopted neither of these plans. It reflects much credit on him +that he acted as he did. Eager to forward Schiller's views by exerting +all the influence within his power, he succeeded in effecting this; +and what was still more difficult, in suffering the character of +benefactor to merge in that of equal. They became not friends only, +but fellow-labourers: a connection productive of important +consequences in the history of both, particularly of the younger and +more undirected of the two.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Meanwhile the <i>History of the Revolt of the United Netherlands</i> was in +part before the world; the first volume came out in 1788. Schiller's +former writings had given proofs of powers so great and various, such +an extent of general intellectual strength, and so deep an +acquaintance, both practical and scientific, with the art of +composition, that in a subject like history, no ordinary work was to +be looked for from his hands. With diligence in accumulating +materials, and patient care in elaborating them, he could scarcely +fail to attain distinguished excellence. The present volume was well +calculated to fulfil such expectations. The <i>Revolt of the +Netherlands</i> possesses all the common requisites of a good history, +and many which are in some degree peculiar to itself. The information +it conveys is minute and copious; we have all the circumstances of the +case, remote and near, set distinctly before us. Yet, such is the +skill of the arrangement, these are at once briefly and impressively +presented. The work is not stretched out into a continuous narrative; +but gathered up into masses, which are successively exhibited to view, +the minor facts being grouped around some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> leading one, to which, as +to the central object, our attention is chiefly directed. This method +of combining the details of events, of proceeding as it were, <i>per +saltum</i>, from eminence to eminence, and thence surveying the +surrounding scene, is undoubtedly the most philosophical of any: but +few men are equal to the task of effecting it rightly. It must be +executed by a mind able to look on all its facts at once; to +disentangle their perplexities, referring each to its proper head; and +to choose, often with extreme address, the station from which the +reader is to view them. Without this, or with this inadequately done, +a work on such a plan would be intolerable. Schiller has accomplished +it in great perfection; the whole scene of affairs was evidently clear +before his own eye, and he did not want expertness to discriminate and +seize its distinctive features. The bond of cause and consequence he +never loses sight of; and over each successive portion of his +narrative he pours that flood of intellectual and imaginative +brilliancy, which all his prior writings had displayed. His +reflections, expressed or implied, are the fruit of strong, +comprehensive, penetrating thought. His descriptions are vivid; his +characters are studied with a keen sagacity, and set before us in +their most striking points of view; those of Egmont and Orange occur +to every reader as a rare union of perspicacity and eloquence. The +work has a look of order; of beauty joined to calm reposing force. Had +it been completed, it might have ranked as the very best of Schiller's +prose compositions. But no second volume ever came to light; and the +first concludes at the entrance of Alba into Brussels. Two fragments +alone, the <i>Siege of Antwerp</i>, and the <i>Passage of Alba's Army</i>, both +living pictures, show us still farther what he might have done had he +proceeded. The surpassing and often highly-picturesque movements of +this War, the de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>votedness of the Dutch, their heroic achievement of +liberty, were not destined to be painted by the glowing pen of +Schiller, whose heart and mind were alike so qualified to do them +justice.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> + +<p>The accession of reputation, which this work procured its author, was +not the only or the principal advantage he derived from it. Eichhorn, +Professor of History, was at this time about to leave the University +of Jena: Goethe had already introduced his new acquaintance Schiller +to the special notice of Amelia, the accomplished Regent of +Sachsen-Weimar; he now joined with Voigt, the head Chaplain of the +Court, in soliciting the vacant chair for him. Seconded by the general +voice, and the persuasion of the Princess herself, he succeeded. +Schiller was appointed Professor at Jena; he went thither in 1789.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">With Schiller's removal to Jena begins a new epoch in his public and +private life. His connexion with Goethe here first ripened into +friendship, and became secured and cemented by frequency of +intercourse.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Jena is but a few miles distant from Weimar; and the +two friends, both settled in public offices belonging to the same +Government, had daily opportunities of interchanging visits. +Schiller's wanderings were now concluded: with a heart tired of so +fluctuating an existence, but not despoiled of its capacity for +relishing a calmer one; with a mind experienced by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>much and varied +intercourse with men; full of knowledge and of plans to turn it to +account, he could now repose himself in the haven of domestic +comforts, and look forward to days of more unbroken exertion, and more +wholesome and permanent enjoyment than hitherto had fallen to his lot. +In the February following his settlement at Jena, he obtained the hand +of Fräulein Lengefeld; a happiness, with the prospect of which he had +long associated all the pleasures which he hoped for from the future. +A few months after this event, he thus expresses himself, in writing +to a friend:</p> + +<p>'Life is quite a different thing by the side of a beloved wife, than +so forsaken and alone; even in Summer. Beautiful Nature! I now for the +first time fully enjoy it, live in it. The world again clothes itself +around me in poetic forms; old feelings are again awakening in my +breast. What a life I am leading here! I look with a glad mind around +me; my heart finds a perennial contentment without it; my spirit so +fine, so refreshing a nourishment. My existence is settled in +harmonious composure; not strained and impassioned, but peaceful and +clear. I look to my future destiny with a cheerful heart; now when +standing at the wished-for goal, I wonder with myself how it all has +happened, so far beyond my expectations. Fate has conquered the +difficulties for me; it has, I may say, forced me to the mark. From +the future I expect everything. A few years, and I shall live in the +full enjoyment of my spirit; nay, I think my very youth will be +renewed; an inward poetic life will give it me again.'</p> + +<p>To what extent these smiling hopes were realised will be seen in the +next and concluding Part of this Biography.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Der Geisterseher</i>, Schillers Werke, B. iv. p 350.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Who the other three were is nowhere particularly +mentioned.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Wieland's rather harsh and not too judicious sentence on +it may be seen at large in Gruber's <i>Wieland Geschildert</i>, B. ii. S. +571.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> The well-written life, prefixed to the Stuttgard and +Tübingen edition of Schiller's works, is by this Körner. The Theodor +Körner, whose <i>Lyre and Sword</i> became afterwards famous, was his son.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> In vol. x. of the Vienna edition of Schiller are some +ludicrous verses, almost his sole attempt in the way of drollery, +bearing a title equivalent to this: 'To the Right Honourable the Board +of Washers, the most humble Memorial of a downcast Tragic Poet, at +Löschwitz;' of which Doering gives the following account. 'The first +part of <i>Don Carlos</i> being already printed, by Göschen, in Leipzig, +the poet, pressed for the remainder, felt himself obliged to stay +behind from an excursion which the Körner family were making, in a +fine autumn day. Unluckily, the lady of the house, thinking Schiller +was to go along with them, had locked all her cupboards and the +cellar. Schiller found himself without meat or drink, or even wood for +fuel; still farther exasperated by the dabbling of some washer-maids +beneath his window, he produced these lines.' The poem is of the kind +which cannot be translated; the first three stanzas are as follows: +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Die Wäsche klatscht vor meiner Thür,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Es plarrt die Küchenzofe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Und mich, mich fuhrt das Flügelthier<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Zu König Philips Hofe.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ich eile durch die Gallerie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mit schnellem Schritt, belausche<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dort die Prinzessin Eboli<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Im süssen Liebesrausche.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Schon ruft das schöne Weib: Triumph!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Schon hör' ich—Tod und Hölle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was hör' ich—einen nassen Strumpf<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Geworfen in die Welle."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Jean Paul nevertheless, not without some show of reason, +has compared this Posa to the tower of a lighthouse: 'high, +far-shining,—empty!' (<i>Note of 1845.</i>)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Doering says, 'Goethe was at this time absent in Italy;' +an error, as will by and by appear.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> 1825.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> If we mistake not, Madame de Staël, in her <i>Révolution +Française</i>, had this performance of Schiller's in her eye. Her work is +constructed on a similar though a rather looser plan of arrangement: +the execution of it bears the same relation to that of Schiller; it is +less irregular; more ambitious in its rhetoric; inferior in precision, +though often not in force of thought and imagery.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> The obstacles to their union have already been described +in the words of Goethe; the steps by which these were surmounted, are +described by him in the same paper with equal minuteness and effect. +It is interesting, but cannot be inserted here. See<a href="#APPENDIX_I"> Appendix I.</a>, No. +3.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></h2> + +<h3><a name="FROM_HIS_SETTLEMENT_AT_JENA_TO_HIS_DEATH" id="FROM_HIS_SETTLEMENT_AT_JENA_TO_HIS_DEATH"></a>FROM HIS SETTLEMENT AT JENA TO HIS DEATH.<br /> + +(1790-1805.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PART_THIRD" id="PART_THIRD"></a>PART THIRD.<br /> + +<small>[1790-1805.]</small></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> duties of his new office naturally called upon Schiller to devote +himself with double zeal to History: a subject, which from choice he +had already entered on with so much eagerness. In the study of it, we +have seen above how his strongest faculties and tastes were exercised +and gratified: and new opportunities were now combined with new +motives for persisting in his efforts. Concerning the plan or the +success of his academical prelections, we have scarcely any notice: in +his class, it is said, he used most frequently to speak extempore; and +his delivery was not distinguished by fluency or grace, a circumstance +to be imputed to the agitation of a public appearance; for, as +Woltmann assures us, 'the beauty, the elegance, ease, and true +instructiveness with which he could continuously express himself in +private, were acknowledged and admired by all his friends.' His +matter, we suppose, would make amends for these deficiencies of +manner: to judge from his introductory lecture, preserved in his +works, with the title, <i>What is Universal History, and with what views +should it be studied</i>, there perhaps has never been in Europe another +course of history sketched out on principles so magnificent and +philosophical.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> college exercises were far from being his +ultimate object, nor did he rest satisfied with mere visions of +perfection: the compass of the outline he had traced, for a proper +Historian, was scarcely greater than the assiduity with which he +strove to fill it up. His letters breathe a spirit not only of +diligence but of ardour; he seems intent with all his strength upon +this fresh pursuit; and delighted with the vast prospects of untouched +and attractive speculation, which were opening around him on every +side. He professed himself to be 'exceedingly contented with his +business;' his ideas on the nature of it were acquiring both extension +and distinctness; and every moment of his leisure was employed in +reducing them to practice. He was now busied with the <i>History of the +Thirty-Years War</i>.</p> + +<p>This work, which appeared in 1791, is considered by the German critics +as his chief performance in this department of literature: <i>The Revolt +of the Netherlands</i>, the only one which could have vied with it, never +was completed; otherwise, in our opinion, it might have been superior. +Either of the two would have sufficed to secure for Schiller a +distinguished rank among historians, of the class denominated +philosophical; though even both together, they afford but a feeble +exemplification of the ideas which he entertained on the manner of +composing history. In his view, the business of history is not merely +to record, but to interpret; it involves not only a clear conception +and a lively exposition of events and characters, but a sound, +enlightened theory of individual and national morality, a general +philosophy of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>human life, whereby to judge of them, and measure their +effects. The historian now stands on higher ground, takes in a wider +range than those that went before him; he can now survey vast tracts +of human action, and deduce its laws from an experience extending over +many climes and ages. With his ideas, moreover, his feelings ought to +be enlarged: he should regard the interests not of any sect or state, +but of mankind; the progress not of any class of arts or opinions, but +of universal happiness and refinement. His narrative, in short, should +be moulded according to the science, and impregnated with the liberal +spirit of his time.</p> + +<p>Voltaire is generally conceived to have invented and introduced a new +method of composing history; the chief historians that have followed +him have been by way of eminence denominated philosophical. This is +hardly correct. Voltaire wrote history with greater talent, but +scarcely with a new species of talent: he applied the ideas of the +eighteenth century to the subject; but in this there was nothing +radically new. In the hands of a thinking writer history has always +been 'philosophy teaching by experience;' that is, such philosophy as +the age of the historian has afforded. For a Greek or Roman, it was +natural to look upon events with an eye to their effect on his own +city or country; and to try them by a code of principles, in which the +prosperity or extension of this formed a leading object. For a monkish +chronicler, it was natural to estimate the progress of affairs by the +number of abbeys founded; the virtue of men by the sum-total of +donations to the clergy. And for a thinker of the present day, it is +equally natural to measure the occurrences of history by quite a +different standard: by their influence upon the general destiny of +man, their tendency to obstruct or to forward him in his advancement +towards liberty, knowledge, true religion and dignity of mind. Each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +of these narrators simply measures by the scale which is considered +for the time as expressing the great concerns and duties of humanity.</p> + +<p>Schiller's views on this matter were, as might have been expected, of +the most enlarged kind. 'It seems to me,' said he in one of his +letters, 'that in writing history for the moderns, we should try to +communicate to it such an interest as the History of the Peloponnesian +War had for the Greeks. Now this is the problem: to choose and arrange +your materials so that, to interest, they shall not need the aid of +decoration. We moderns have a source of interest at our disposal, +which no Greek or Roman was acquainted with, and which the <i>patriotic</i> +interest does not nearly equal. This last, in general, is chiefly of +importance for unripe nations, for the youth of the world. But we may +excite a very different sort of interest if we represent each +remarkable occurrence that happened to <i>men</i> as of importance to +<i>man</i>. It is a poor and little aim to write for one nation; a +philosophic spirit cannot tolerate such limits, cannot bound its views +to a form of human nature so arbitrary, fluctuating, accidental. The +most powerful nation is but a fragment; and thinking minds will not +grow warm on its account, except in so far as this nation or its +fortunes have been influential on the progress of the species.'</p> + +<p>That there is not some excess in this comprehensive cosmopolitan +philosophy, may perhaps be liable to question. Nature herself has, +wisely no doubt, partitioned us into 'kindreds, and nations, and +tongues:' it is among our instincts to grow warm in behalf of our +country, simply for its own sake; and the business of Reason seems to +be to chasten and direct our instincts, never to destroy them. We +require individuality in our attachments: the sympathy which is +expanded over all men will commonly be found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> so much attenuated by +the process, that it cannot be effective on any. And as it is in +nature, so it is in art, which ought to be the image of it. Universal +philanthropy forms but a precarious and very powerless rule of +conduct; and the 'progress of the species' will turn out equally +unfitted for deeply exciting the imagination. It is not with freedom +that we can sympathise, but with free men. There ought, indeed, to be +in history a spirit superior to petty distinctions and vulgar +partialities; our particular affections ought to be enlightened and +purified; but they should not be abandoned, or, such is the condition +of humanity, our feelings must evaporate and fade away in that extreme +diffusion. Perhaps, in a certain sense, the surest mode of pleasing +and instructing all nations <i>is</i> to write for one.</p> + +<p>This too Schiller was aware of, and had in part attended to. Besides, +the Thirty-Years War is a subject in which nationality of feeling may +be even wholly spared, better than in almost any other. It is not a +German but a European subject; it forms the concluding portion of the +Reformation, and this is an event belonging not to any country in +particular, but to the human race. Yet, if we mistake not, this +over-tendency to generalisation, both in thought and sentiment, has +rather hurt the present work. The philosophy, with which it is embued, +now and then grows vague from its abstractness, ineffectual from its +refinement: the enthusiasm which pervades it, elevated, strong, +enlightened, would have told better on our hearts, had it been +confined within a narrower space, and directed to a more specific +class of objects. In his extreme attention to the philosophical +aspects of the period, Schiller has neglected to take advantage of +many interesting circumstances, which it offered under other points of +view. The Thirty-Years War abounds with what may be called +picturesqueness in its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> events, and still more in the condition of the +people who carried it on. Harte's <i>History of Gustavus</i>, a wilderness +which mere human patience seems unable to explore, is yet enlivened +here and there with a cheerful spot, when he tells us of some scalade +or camisado, or speculates on troopers rendered bullet-proof by +art-magic. His chaotic records have, in fact, afforded to our Novelist +the raw materials of Dugald Dalgetty, a cavalier of the most singular +equipment, of character and manners which, for many reasons, merit +study and description. To much of this, though, as he afterwards +proved, it was well known to him, Schiller paid comparatively small +attention; his work has lost in liveliness by the omission, more than +it has gained in dignity or instructiveness.</p> + +<p>Yet, with all its imperfections, this is no ordinary history. The +speculation, it is true, is not always of the kind we wish; it +excludes more moving or enlivening topics, and sometimes savours of +the inexperienced theorist who had passed his days remote from +practical statesmen; the subject has not sufficient unity; in spite of +every effort, it breaks into fragments towards the conclusion: but +still there is an energy, a vigorous beauty in the work, which far +more than redeems its failings. Great thoughts at every turn arrest +our attention, and make us pause to confirm or contradict them; happy +metaphors,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> some vivid descriptions of events and men, remind us of +the author of <i>Fiesco</i> and <i>Don Carlos</i>. The characters of Gustavus +and Wallenstein are finely developed in the course of the narrative. +Tilly's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> passage of the Lech, the battles of Leipzig and Lützen figure +in our recollection, as if our eyes had witnessed them: the death of +Gustavus is described in terms which might draw 'iron tears' from the +eyes of veterans.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> If Schiller had inclined to dwell upon the mere +visual or imaginative department of his subject, no man could have +painted it more graphically, or better called forth our emotions, +sympathetic or romantic. But this, we have seen, was not by any means +his leading aim.</p> + +<p>On the whole, the present work is still the best historical +performance which Germany can boast of. Müller's histories are +distinguished by merits of another sort; by condensing, in a given +space, and frequently in lucid order, a quantity of information, +copious and authentic beyond example: but as intellectual productions, +they cannot rank with Schiller's. Woltmann of Berlin has added to the +<i>Thirty-Years War</i> another work of equal size, by way of continuation, +entitled <i>History of the Peace of Munster</i>; with the first +negotiations of which treaty the former concludes. Woltmann is a +person of ability; but we dare not say of him, what Wieland said of +Schiller, that by his first historical attempt he 'has discovered a +decided capability of rising to a level with Hume, Robertson and +Gibbon.' He will rather rise to a level with Belsham or Smollett.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">This first complete specimen of Schiller's art in the historical +department, though but a small fraction of what he meant to do, and +could have done, proved in fact to be the last he ever undertook. At +present very different cares awaited him: in 1791, a fit of sickness +overtook him; he had to exchange the inspiring labours of literature +for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> disgusts and disquietudes of physical disease. His disorder, +which had its seat in the chest, was violent and threatening; and +though nature overcame it in the present instance, the blessing of +entire health never more returned to him. The cause of this severe +affliction seemed to be the unceasing toil and anxiety of mind, in +which his days had hitherto been passed: his frame, which, though +tall, had never been robust, was too weak for the vehement and +sleepless soul that dwelt within it; and the habit of nocturnal study +had, no doubt, aggravated all the other mischiefs. Ever since his +residence at Dresden, his constitution had been weakened: but this +rude shock at once shattered its remaining strength; for a time the +strictest precautions were required barely to preserve existence. A +total cessation from every intellectual effort was one of the most +peremptory laws prescribed to him. Schiller's habits and domestic +circumstances equally rebelled against this measure; with a beloved +wife depending on him for support, inaction itself could have procured +him little rest. His case seemed hard; his prospects of innocent +felicity had been too banefully obscured. Yet in this painful and +difficult position, he did not yield to despondency; and at length, +assistance, and partial deliverance, reached him from a very +unexpected quarter. Schiller had not long been sick, when the +hereditary Prince, now reigning Duke of Holstein-Augustenburg, jointly +with the Count Von Schimmelmann, conferred on him a pension of a +thousand crowns for three years.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> No stipulation was added, but +merely that he should be careful of his health, and use every +attention to recover. This speedy and generous aid, moreover, was +presented with a delicate politeness, which, as Schiller said, touched +him more than even the gift itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> We should remember this Count and +this Duke; they deserve some admiration and some envy.</p> + +<p>This disorder introduced a melancholy change into Schiller's +circumstances: he had now another enemy to strive with, a secret and +fearful impediment to vanquish, in which much resolute effort must be +sunk without producing any positive result. Pain is not entirely +synonymous with Evil; but bodily pain seems less redeemed by good than +almost any other kind of it. From the loss of fortune, of fame, or +even of friends, Philosophy pretends to draw a certain compensating +benefit; but in general the permanent loss of health will bid defiance +to her alchymy. It is a universal diminution; the diminution equally +of our resources and of our capacity to guide them; a penalty +unmitigated, save by love of friends, which then first becomes truly +dear and precious to us; or by comforts brought from beyond this +earthly sphere, from that serene Fountain of peace and hope, to which +our weak Philosophy cannot raise her wing. For all men, in itself, +disease is misery; but chiefly for men of finer feelings and +endowments, to whom, in return for such superiorities, it seems to be +sent most frequently and in its most distressing forms. It is a cruel +fate for the poet to have the sunny land of his imagination, often the +sole territory he is lord of, disfigured and darkened by the shades of +pain; for one whose highest happiness is the exertion of his mental +faculties, to have them chained and paralysed in the imprisonment of a +distempered frame. With external activity, with palpable pursuits, +above all, with a suitable placidity of nature, much even in certain +states of sickness may be performed and enjoyed. But for him whose +heart is already over-keen, whose world is of the mind, ideal, +internal; when the mildew of lingering disease has struck that world, +and begun to blacken and consume its beauty,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> nothing seems to remain +but despondency and bitterness and desolate sorrow, felt and +anticipated, to the end.</p> + +<p>Woe to him if his will likewise falter, if his resolution fail, and +his spirit bend its neck to the yoke of this new enemy! Idleness and a +disturbed imagination will gain the mastery of him, and let loose +their thousand fiends to harass him, to torment him into madness. +Alas! the bondage of Algiers is freedom compared with this of the sick +man of genius, whose heart has fainted and sunk beneath its load. His +clay dwelling is changed into a gloomy prison; every nerve is become +an avenue of disgust or anguish; and the soul sits within, in her +melancholy loneliness, a prey to the spectres of despair, or stupefied +with excess of suffering, doomed as it were to a 'life in death,' to a +consciousness of agonised existence, without the consciousness of +power which should accompany it. Happily, death, or entire fatuity, at +length puts an end to such scenes of ignoble misery; which, however, +ignoble as they are, we ought to view with pity rather than contempt.</p> + +<p>Such are frequently the fruits of protracted sickness, in men +otherwise of estimable qualities and gifts, but whose sensibility +exceeds their strength of mind. In Schiller, its worst effects were +resisted by the only availing antidote, a strenuous determination to +neglect them. His spirit was too vigorous and ardent to yield even in +this emergency: he disdained to dwindle into a pining valetudinarian; +in the midst of his infirmities, he persevered with unabated zeal in +the great business of his life. As he partially recovered, he returned +as strenuously as ever to his intellectual occupations; and often, in +the glow of poetical conception, he almost forgot his maladies. By +such resolute and manly conduct, he disarmed sickness of its cruelest +power to wound; his frame might be in pain, but his spirit retained +its force,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> unextinguished, almost unimpeded; he did not lose his +relish for the beautiful, the grand, or the good, in any of their +shapes; he loved his friends as formerly, and wrote his finest and +sublimest works when his health was gone. Perhaps no period of his +life displayed more heroism than the present one.</p> + +<p>After this severe attack, and the kind provision which he had received +from Denmark, Schiller seems to have relaxed his connexion with the +University of Jena: the weightiest duties of his class appear to have +been discharged by proxy, and his historical studies to have been +forsaken. Yet this was but a change, not an abatement, in the activity +of his mind. Once partially free from pain, all his former diligence +awoke; and being also free from the more pressing calls of duty and +economy, he was now allowed to turn his attention to objects which +attracted it more. Among these one of the most alluring was the +Philosophy of Kant.</p> + +<p>The transcendental system of the Königsberg Professor had, for the +last ten years, been spreading over Germany, which it had now filled +with the most violent contentions. The powers and accomplishments of +Kant were universally acknowledged; the high pretensions of his +system, pretensions, it is true, such as had been a thousand times put +forth, a thousand times found wanting, still excited notice, when so +backed by ability and reputation. The air of mysticism connected with +these doctrines was attractive to the German mind, with which the +vague and the vast are always pleasing qualities; the dreadful array +of first principles, the forest huge of terminology and definitions, +where the panting intellect of weaker men wanders as in pathless +thickets, and at length sinks powerless to the earth, oppressed with +fatigue, and suffocated with scholastic miasma, seemed sublime rather +than appalling to the Germans; men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> who shrink not at toil, and to +whom a certain degree of darkness appears a native element, essential +for giving play to that deep meditative enthusiasm which forms so +important a feature in their character. Kant's Philosophy, +accordingly, found numerous disciples, and possessed them with a zeal +unexampled since the days of Pythagoras. This, in fact, resembled +spiritual fanaticism rather than a calm ardour in the cause of +science; Kant's warmest admirers seemed to regard him more in the +light of a prophet than of a mere earthly sage. Such admiration was of +course opposed by corresponding censure; the transcendental neophytes +had to encounter sceptical gainsayers as determined as themselves. Of +this latter class the most remarkable were Herder and Wieland. Herder, +then a clergyman of Weimar, seems never to have comprehended what he +fought against so keenly: he denounced and condemned the Kantean +metaphysics, because he found them heterodox. The young divines came +back from the University of Jena with their minds well nigh delirious; +full of strange doctrines, which they explained to the examinators of +the Weimar Consistorium in phrases that excited no idea in the heads +of these reverend persons, but much horror in their hearts.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> Hence +reprimands, and objurgations, and excessive bitterness between the +applicants for ordination and those appointed to confer it: one young +clergyman at Weimar shot himself on this account; heresy, and jarring, +and unprofitable logic, were universal. Hence Herder's vehement +attacks on this 'pernicious quackery;' this delusive and destructive +'system of words.'<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> Wieland strove against it for another reason. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>He had, all his life, been labouring to give currency among his +countrymen to a species of diluted epicurism; to erect a certain +smooth, and elegant, and very slender scheme of taste and morals, +borrowed from our Shaftesbury and the French. All this feeble edifice +the new doctrine was sweeping before it to utter ruin, with the +violence of a tornado. It grieved Wieland to see the work of half a +century destroyed: he fondly imagined that but for Kant's philosophy +it might have been perennial. With scepticism quickened into action by +such motives, Herder and he went forth as brother champions against +the transcendental metaphysics; they were not long without a multitude +of hot assailants. The uproar produced among thinking men by the +conflict, has scarcely been equalled in Germany since the days of +Luther. Fields were fought, and victories lost and won; nearly all the +minds of the nation were, in secret or openly, arrayed on this side or +on that. Goethe alone seemed altogether to retain his wonted +composure; he was clear for allowing the Kantean scheme to 'have its +day, as all things have.' Goethe has already lived to see the wisdom +of this sentiment, so characteristic of his genius and turn of +thought.</p> + +<p>In these controversies, soon pushed beyond the bounds of temperate or +wholesome discussion, Schiller took no part: but the noise they made +afforded him a fresh inducement to investigate a set of doctrines, so +important in the general estimation. A system which promised, even +with a very little plausibility, to accomplish all that Kant asserted +his complete performance of; to explain the difference between Matter +and Spirit, to unravel the perplexities of Necessity <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>and Free-will; +to show us the true grounds of our belief in God, and what hope nature +gives us of the soul's immortality; and thus at length, after a +thousand failures, to interpret the enigma of our being,—hardly +needed that additional inducement to make such a man as Schiller grasp +at it with eager curiosity. His progress also was facilitated by his +present circumstances; Jena had now become the chief well-spring of +Kantean doctrine, a distinction or disgrace it has ever since +continued to deserve. Reinhold, one of Kant's ablest followers, was at +this time Schiller's fellow-teacher and daily companion: he did not +fail to encourage and assist his friend in a path of study, which, as +he believed, conducted to such glorious results. Under this tuition, +Schiller was not long in discovering, that at least the 'new +philosophy was more poetical than that of Leibnitz, and had a grander +character;' persuasions which of course confirmed him in his +resolution to examine it.</p> + +<p>How far Schiller penetrated into the arcana of transcendentalism it is +impossible for us to say. The metaphysical and logical branches of it +seem to have afforded him no solid satisfaction, or taken no firm hold +of his thoughts; their influence is scarcely to be traced in any of +his subsequent writings. The only department to which he attached +himself with his ordinary zeal was that which relates to the +principles of the imitative arts, with their moral influences, and +which in the Kantean nomenclature has been designated by the term +<i>Æsthetics</i>,<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> or the doctrine of sentiments and emotions. On these +subjects he had already amassed a multitude of thoughts; to see which +expressed by new symbols, and arranged in systematic form, and held +together by some common theory, would necessarily yield enjoyment to +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> intellect, and inspire him with fresh alacrity in prosecuting +such researches. The new light which dawned, or seemed to dawn, upon +him, in the course of these investigations, is reflected, in various +treatises, evincing, at least, the honest diligence with which he +studied, and the fertility with which he could produce. Of these the +largest and most elaborate are the essays on <i>Grace and Dignity</i>; on +<i>Naïve and Sentimental Poetry</i>; and the <i>Letters on the Æsthetic +Culture of Man</i>: the other pieces are on <i>Tragic Art</i>; on the +<i>Pathetic</i>; on the <i>Cause of our Delight in Tragic Objects</i>; on +<i>Employing the Low and Common in Art</i>.</p> + +<p>Being cast in the mould of Kantism, or at least clothed in its +garments, these productions, to readers unacquainted with that system, +are encumbered here and there with difficulties greater than belong +intrinsically to the subject. In perusing them, the uninitiated +student is mortified at seeing so much powerful thought distorted, as +he thinks, into such fantastic forms: the principles of reasoning, on +which they rest, are apparently not those of common logic; a dimness +and doubt overhangs their conclusions; scarcely anything is proved in +a convincing manner. But this is no strange quality in such writings. +To an exoteric reader the philosophy of Kant almost always appears to +invert the common maxim; its end and aim seem not to be 'to make +abstruse things simple, but to make simple things abstruse.' Often a +proposition of inscrutable and dread aspect, when resolutely grappled +with, and torn from its shady den, and its bristling entrenchments of +uncouth terminology, and dragged forth into the open light of day, to +be seen by the natural eye, and tried by merely human understanding, +proves to be a very harmless truth, familiar to us from of old, +sometimes so familiar as to be a truism. Too frequently, the anxious +novice is reminded of Dryden in the <i>Battle of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> Books</i>: there is a +helmet of rusty iron, dark, grim, gigantic; and within it, at the +farthest corner, is a head no bigger than a walnut. These are the +general errors of Kantean criticism; in the present works, they are by +no means of the worst or most pervading kind; and there is a +fundamental merit which does more than counterbalance them. By the aid +of study, the doctrine set before us can, in general, at length be +comprehended; and Schiller's fine intellect, recognisable even in its +masquerade, is ever and anon peering forth in its native form, which +all may understand, which all must relish, and presenting us with +passages that show like bright verdant islands in the misty sea of +metaphysics.</p> + +<p>We have been compelled to offer these remarks on Kant's Philosophy; +but it is right to add that they are the result of only very limited +acquaintance with the subject. We cannot wish that any influence of +ours should add a note, however feeble, to the loud and not at all +melodious cry which has been raised against it in this country. When a +class of doctrines so involved in difficulties, yet so sanctioned by +illustrious names, is set before us, curiosity must have a theory +respecting them, and indolence and other humbler feelings are too +ready to afford her one. To call Kant's system a laborious dream, and +its adherents crazy mystics, is a brief method, brief but false. The +critic, whose philosophy includes the <i>craziness</i> of men like these, +so easily and smoothly in its formulas, should render thanks to Heaven +for having gifted him with science and acumen, as few in any age or +country have been gifted. Meaner men, however, ought to recollect that +where we do not understand, we should postpone deciding, or, at least, +keep our decision for our own exclusive benefit. We of England may +reject this Kantean system, perhaps with reason; but it ought to be on +other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> grounds than are yet before us. Philosophy is science, and +science, as Schiller has observed, cannot always be explained in +'conversations by the parlour fire,' or in written treatises that +resemble such. The <i>cui bono</i> of these doctrines may not, it is true, +be expressible by arithmetical computations: the subject also is +perplexed with obscurities, and probably with manifold delusions; and +too often its interpreters with us have been like 'tenebrific stars,' +that 'did ray out darkness' on a matter itself sufficiently dark. But +what then? Is the jewel always to be found among the common dust of +the highway, and always to be estimated by its value in the common +judgment? It lies embosomed in the depths of the mine; rocks must be +rent before it can be reached; skilful eyes and hands must separate it +from the rubbish where it lies concealed, and kingly purchasers alone +can prize it and buy it. This law of <i>ostracism</i> is as dangerous in +science as it was of old in politics. Let us not forget that many +things are true which cannot be demonstrated by the rules of <i>Watts's +Logic</i>; that many truths are valuable, for which no price is given in +Paternoster Row, and no preferment offered at St. Stephen's! Whoever +reads these treatises of Schiller with attention, will perceive that +they depend on principles of an immensely higher and more complex +character than our 'Essays on Taste,' and our 'Inquiries concerning +the Freedom of the Will.' The laws of criticism, which it is their +purpose to establish, are derived from the inmost nature of man; the +scheme of morality, which they inculcate, soars into a brighter +region, very far beyond the ken of our 'Utilities' and +'Reflex-senses.' They do not teach us 'to judge of poetry and art as +we judge of dinner,' merely by observing the impressions it produced +in us; and they <i>do</i> derive the duties and chief end of man from other +grounds than the philosophy of Profit and Loss. These <i>Letters on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +Æsthetic Culture</i>, without the aid of anything which the most +sceptical could designate as superstition, trace out and attempt to +sanction for us a system of morality, in which the sublimest feelings +of the Stoic and the Christian are represented but as stages in our +progress to the pinnacle of true human grandeur; and man, isolated on +this fragment of the universe, encompassed with the boundless desolate +Unknown, at war with Fate, without help or the hope of help, is +confidently called upon to rise into a calm cloudless height of +internal activity and peace, and <i>be</i>, what he has fondly named +himself, the god of this lower world. When such are the results, who +would not make an effort for the steps by which they are attained? In +Schiller's treatises, it must be owned, the reader, after all +exertions, will be fortunate if he can find them. Yet a second perusal +will satisfy him better than the first; and among the shapeless +immensities which fill the Night of Kantism, and the meteoric +coruscations, which perplex him rather than enlighten, he will fancy +he descries some streaks of a serener radiance, which he will pray +devoutly that time may purify and ripen into perfect day. The +Philosophy of Kant is probably combined with errors to its very core; +but perhaps also, this ponderous unmanageable dross may bear in it the +everlasting gold of truth! Mighty spirits have already laboured in +refining it: is it wise in us to take up with the base pewter of +Utility, and renounce such projects altogether? We trust, not.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> + +<p>That Schiller's <i>genius</i> profited by this laborious and ardent study +of Æsthetic Metaphysics, has frequently been doubted, and sometimes +denied. That, after such investigations,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> the process of composition +would become more difficult, might be inferred from the nature of the +case. That also the principles of this critical theory were in part +erroneous, in still greater part too far-fetched and fine-spun for +application to the business of writing, we may farther venture to +assert. But excellence, not ease of composition, is the thing to be +desired; and in a mind like Schiller's, so full of energy, of images +and thoughts and creative power, the more sedulous practice of +selection was little likely to be detrimental. And though considerable +errors might mingle with the rules by which he judged himself, the +habit of judging carelessly, or not at all, is far worse than that of +sometimes judging wrong. Besides, once accustomed to attend strictly +to the operations of his genius, and rigorously to try its products, +such a man as Schiller could not fail in time to discover what was +false in the principles by which he tried them, and consequently, in +the end, to retain the benefits of this procedure without its evils. +There is doubtless a purism in taste, a rigid fantastical demand of +perfection, a horror at approaching the limits of impropriety, which +obstructs the free impulse of the faculties, and if excessive, would +altogether deaden them. But the excess on the other side is much more +frequent, and, for high endowments, infinitely more pernicious. After +the strongest efforts, there may be little realised; without strong +efforts, there must be little. That too much care does hurt in any of +our tasks is a doctrine so flattering to indolence, that we ought to +receive it with extreme caution. In works impressed with the stamp of +true genius, their quality, not their extent, is what we value: a dull +man may spend his lifetime writing little; better so than writing +much; but a man of powerful mind is liable to no such danger. Of all +our authors, Gray is perhaps the only one that from fasti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>diousness of +taste has written less than he should have done: there are thousands +that have erred the other way. What would a Spanish reader give, had +Lope de Vega composed a hundred times as little, and that little a +hundred times as well!</p> + +<p>Schiller's own ideas on these points appear to be sufficiently sound: +they are sketched in the following extract of a letter, interesting +also as a record of his purposes and intellectual condition at this +period:</p> + +<p>'Criticism must now make good to me the damage she herself has done. +And damaged me she most certainly has; for the boldness, the living +glow which I felt before a rule was known to me, have for several +years been wanting. I now <i>see</i> myself <i>create</i> and <i>form</i>: I watch +the play of inspiration; and my fancy, knowing she is not without +witnesses of her movements, no longer moves with equal freedom. I +hope, however, ultimately to advance so far that <i>art</i> shall become a +second <i>nature</i>, as polished manners are to well-bred men; then +Imagination will regain her former freedom, and submit to none but +voluntary limitations.'</p> + +<p>Schiller's subsequent writings are the best proof that in these +expectations he had not miscalculated.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">The historical and critical studies, in which he had been so +extensively and seriously engaged, could not remain without effect on +Schiller's general intellectual character. He had spent five active +years in studies directed almost solely to the understanding, or the +faculties connected with it; and such industry united to such ardour +had produced an immense accession of ideas. History had furnished him +with pictures of manners and events, of strange conjunctures and +conditions of existence; it had given him more minute and truer +conceptions of human nature in its many forms, new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> and more accurate +opinions on the character and end of man. The domain of his mind was +both enlarged and enlightened; a multitude of images and detached +facts and perceptions had been laid up in his memory; and his +intellect was at once enriched by acquired thoughts, and strengthened +by increased exercise on a wider circle of knowledge.</p> + +<p>But to understand was not enough for Schiller; there were in him +faculties which this could not employ, and therefore could not +satisfy. The primary vocation of his nature was poetry: the +acquisitions of his other faculties served but as the materials for +his poetic faculty to act upon, and seemed imperfect till they had +been sublimated into the pure and perfect forms of beauty, which it is +the business of this to elicit from them. New thoughts gave birth to +new feelings: and both of these he was now called upon to body forth, +to represent by visible types, to animate and adorn with the magic of +creative genius. The first youthful blaze of poetic ardour had long +since passed away; but this large increase of knowledge awakened it +anew, refined by years and experience into a steadier and clearer +flame. Vague shadows of unaccomplished excellence, gleams of ideal +beauty, were now hovering fitfully across his mind: he longed to turn +them into shape, and give them a local habitation and a name. +Criticism, likewise, had exalted his notions of art: the modern +writers on subjects of taste, Aristotle, the ancient poets, he had +lately studied; he had carefully endeavoured to extract the truth from +each, and to amalgamate their principles with his own; in choosing, he +was now more difficult to satisfy. Minor poems had all along been +partly occupying his attention; but they yielded no space for the +intensity of his impulses, and the magnificent ideas that were rising +in his fancy. Conscious of his strength, he dreaded not engaging with +the highest species of his art:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> the perusal of the Greek tragedians +had given rise to some late translations;<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> the perusal of Homer +seems now to have suggested the idea of an epic poem. The hero whom he +first contemplated was Gustavus Adolphus; he afterwards changed to +Frederick the Great of Prussia.</p> + +<p>Epic poems, since the time of the <i>Epigoniad</i>, and <i>Leonidas</i>, and +especially since that of some more recent attempts, have with us +become a mighty dull affair. That Schiller aimed at something +infinitely higher than these faint and superannuated imitations, far +higher than even Klopstock has attained, will appear by the following +extract from one of his letters:</p> + +<p>'An epic poem in the eighteenth century should be quite a different +thing from such a poem in the childhood of the world. And it is that +very circumstance which attracts me so much towards this project. Our +manners, the finest essence of our philosophies, our politics, +economy, arts, in short, of all we know and do, would require to be +introduced without constraint, and interwoven in such a composition, +to live there in beautiful harmonious freedom, as all the branches of +Greek culture live and are made visible in Homer's <i>Iliad</i>. Nor am I +disinclined to invent a species of machinery for this purpose; being +anxious to fulfil, with hairsbreadth accuracy, all the requisitions +that are made of epic poets, even on the side of form. Besides, this +machinery, which, in a subject so modern, in an age so prosaic, +appears to present the greatest difficulty, might exalt the interest +in a high degree, were it suitably adapted to this same modern spirit. +Crowds of confused ideas on this matter are rolling to and fro within +my head; something distinct will come out of them at last.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>'As for the sort of metre I would choose, this I think you will hardly +guess: no other than <i>ottave rime</i>. All the rest, except iambic, are +become insufferable to me. And how beautifully might the earnest and +the lofty be made to play in these light fetters! What attractions +might the epic <i>substance</i> gain by the soft yielding <i>form</i> of this +fine rhyme! For, the poem must, not in name only, but in very deed, be +capable of being <i>sung</i>; as the <i>Iliad</i> was sung by the peasants of +Greece, as the stanzas of <i>Jerusalem Delivered</i> are still sung by the +Venetian gondoliers.</p> + +<p>'The epoch of Frederick's life that would fit me best, I have +considered also. I should wish to select some unhappy situation; it +would allow me to unfold his mind far more poetically. The chief +action should, if possible, be very simple, perplexed with no +complicated circumstances, that the whole might easily be comprehended +at a glance, though the episodes were never so numerous. In this +respect there is no better model than the <i>Iliad</i>.'</p> + +<p>Schiller did not execute, or even commence, the project he has here so +philosophically sketched: the constraints of his present situation, +the greatness of the enterprise compared with the uncertainty of its +success, were sufficient to deter him. Besides, he felt that after all +his wide excursions, the true home of his genius was the Drama, the +department where its powers had first been tried, and were now by +habit or nature best qualified to act. To the Drama he accordingly +returned. The <i>History of the Thirty-Years War</i> had once suggested the +idea of Gustavus Adolphus as the hero of an epic poem; the same work +afforded him a subject for a tragedy: he now decided on beginning +<i>Wallenstein</i>. In this undertaking it was no easy task that he +contemplated; a common play did not now comprise his aim; he required +some magnificent and comprehensive object, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> which he could expend +to advantage the new poetical and intellectual treasures which he had +for years been amassing; something that should at once exemplify his +enlarged ideas of art, and give room and shape to his fresh stores of +knowledge and sentiment. As he studied the history of Wallenstein, and +viewed its capabilities on every side, new ideas gathered round it: +the subject grew in magnitude, and often changed in form. His progress +in actual composition was, of course, irregular and small. Yet the +difficulties of the subject, increasing with his own wider, more +ambitious conceptions, did not abate his diligence: <i>Wallenstein</i>, +with many interruptions and many alterations, sometimes stationary, +sometimes retrograde, continued on the whole, though slowly, to +advance.</p> + +<p>This was for several years his chosen occupation, the task to which he +consecrated his brightest hours, and the finest part of his faculties. +For humbler employments, demanding rather industry than inspiration, +there still remained abundant leisure, of which it was inconsistent +with his habits to waste a single hour. His occasional labours, +accordingly, were numerous, varied, and sometimes of considerable +extent. In the end of 1792, a new object seemed to call for his +attention; he once about this time seriously meditated mingling in +politics. The French Revolution had from the first affected him with +no ordinary hopes; which, however, the course of events, particularly +the imprisonment of Louis, were now fast converting into fears. For +the ill-fated monarch, and the cause of freedom, which seemed +threatened with disgrace in the treatment he was likely to receive, +Schiller felt so deeply interested, that he had determined, in his +case a determination not without its risks, to address an appeal on +these subjects to the French people and the world at large. The voice +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> reason advocating liberty as well as order might still, he +conceived, make a salutary impression in this period of terror and +delusion; the voice of a distinguished man would at first sound like +the voice of the nation, which he seemed to represent. Schiller was +inquiring for a proper French translator, and revolving in his mind +the various arguments that might be used, and the comparative +propriety of using or forbearing to use them; but the progress of +things superseded the necessity of such deliberation. In a few months, +Louis perished on the scaffold; the Bourbon family were murdered, or +scattered over Europe; and the French government was changed into a +frightful chaos, amid the tumultuous and bloody horrors of which, calm +truth had no longer a chance to be heard. Schiller turned away from +these repulsive and appalling scenes, into other regions where his +heart was more familiar, and his powers more likely to produce effect. +The French Revolution had distressed and shocked him; but it did not +lessen his attachment to liberty, the name of which had been so +desecrated in its wild convulsions. Perhaps in his subsequent writings +we can trace a more respectful feeling towards old establishments; +more reverence for the majesty of Custom; and with an equal zeal, a +weaker faith in human perfectibility: changes indeed which are the +common fruit of years themselves, in whatever age or climate of the +world our experience may be gathered.</p> + +<p>Among the number of fluctuating engagements, one, which for ten years +had been constant with him, was the editing of the <i>Thalia</i>. The +principles and performances of that work he had long looked upon as +insufficient: in particular, ever since his settlement at Jena, it had +been among his favourite projects to exchange it for some other, +conducted on a more liberal scheme, uniting more ability in its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +support, and embracing a much wider compass of literary interests. +Many of the most distinguished persons in Germany had agreed to assist +him in executing such a plan; Goethe, himself a host, undertook to go +hand in hand with him. The <i>Thalia</i> was in consequence relinquished at +the end of 1793: and the first number of the <i>Horen</i> came out early in +the following year. This publication was enriched with many valuable +pieces on points of philosophy and criticism; some of Schiller's +finest essays first appeared here: even without the foreign aids which +had been promised him, it already bade fair to outdo, as he had meant +it should, every previous work of that description.</p> + +<p>The <i>Musen-Almanach</i>, of which he likewise undertook the +superintendence, did not aim so high: like other works of the same +title, which are numerous in Germany, it was intended for preserving +and annually delivering to the world, a series of short poetical +effusions, or other fugitive compositions, collected from various +quarters, and often having no connexion but their juxtaposition. In +this work, as well as in the <i>Horen</i>, some of Schiller's finest +smaller poems made their first appearance; many of these pieces being +written about this period, especially the greater part of his ballads, +the idea of attempting which took its rise in a friendly rivalry with +Goethe. But the most noted composition sent forth in the pages of the +<i>Musen-Almanach</i>, was the <i>Xenien</i>;<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> a collection of epigrams which +originated partly, as it seems, in the mean or irritating conduct of +various contemporary authors. In spite of the most flattering +promises, and of its own intrinsic character, the <i>Horen</i>, at its +first appearance, instead of being hailed with welcome by the leading +minds of the country, for whom it was intended as a rallying point, +met in many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> quarters with no sentiment but coldness or hostility. The +controversies of the day had sown discord among literary men; Schiller +and Goethe, associating together, had provoked ill-will from a host of +persons, who felt the justice of such mutual preference, but liked not +the inferences to be drawn from it; and eyed this intellectual +duumvirate, however meek in the discharge of its functions and the +wearing of its honours, with jealousy and discontent.</p> + +<p>The cavilling of these people, awkwardly contrasted with their +personal absurdity and insipidity, at length provoked the serious +notice of the two illustrious associates: the result was this German +Dunciad; a production of which the plan was, that it should comprise +an immense multitude of detached couplets, each conveying a complete +thought within itself, and furnished by one of the joint operators. +The subjects were of unlimited variety; 'the most,' as Schiller says, +'were wild satire, glancing at writers and writings, intermixed with +here and there a flash of poetical or philosophic thought.' It was at +first intended to provide about a thousand of these pointed +monodistichs; unity in such a work appearing to consist in a certain +boundlessness of size, which should hide the heterogeneous nature of +the individual parts: the whole were then to be arranged and +elaborated, till they had acquired the proper degree of consistency +and symmetry; each sacrificing something of its own peculiar spirit to +preserve the spirit of the rest. This number never was completed: and, +Goethe being now busy with his <i>Wilhelm Meister</i>, the project of +completing it was at length renounced; and the <i>Xenien</i> were published +as unconnected particles, not pretending to constitute a whole. Enough +appeared to create unbounded commotion among the parties implicated: +the <i>Xenien</i> were exclaimed against, abused, and replied to, on all +hands; but as they declared war not on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> persons but on actions; not +against Gleim, Nicolai, Manso, but against bad taste, dulness, and +affectation, nothing criminal could be sufficiently made out against +them.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> The <i>Musen-Almanach</i>, where they appeared in 1797, continued +to be published till the time of Schiller's leaving Jena: the <i>Horen</i> +ceased some months before.</p> + +<p>The coöperation of Goethe, which Schiller had obtained so readily in +these pursuits, was of singular use to him in many others. Both +possessing minds of the first order, yet constructed and trained in +the most opposite modes, each had much that was valuable to learn of +the other, and suggest to him. Cultivating different kinds of +excellence, they could joyfully admit each other's merit; connected by +mutual services, and now by community of literary interests, few +unkindly feelings could have place between them. For a man of high +equalities, it is rare to find a meet companion; painful and injurious +to want one. Solitude exasperates or deadens the heart, perverts or +enervates the faculties; association with inferiors leads to dogmatism +in thought, and self-will even in affections. Rousseau never should +have lived in the Val de Montmorenci; it had been good for Warburton +that Hurd had not existed; for Johnson never to have known Boswell or +Davies. From such evils Schiller and Goethe were delivered; their +intimacy seems to have been equal, frank and cordial; from the +contrasts and the endowments of their minds, it must have had peculiar +charms. In his critical theories, Schiller had derived much profit +from communicating with an intellect as excursive as his own, but far +cooler and more sceptical: as he lopped off from his creed the +excrescences of Kantism, Goethe and he,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> on comparing their ideas, +often found in them a striking similarity; more striking and more +gratifying, when it was considered from what diverse premises these +harmonious conclusions had been drawn. On such subjects they often +corresponded when absent, and conversed when together. They were in +the habit of paying long visits to each other's houses; frequently +they used to travel in company between Jena and Weimar. 'At Triesnitz, +a couple of English miles from Jena, Goethe and he,' we are told, +'might sometimes be observed sitting at table, beneath the shade of a +spreading tree; talking, and looking at the current of +passengers.'—There are some who would have 'travelled fifty miles on +foot' to join the party!</p> + +<p>Besides this intercourse with Goethe, he was happy in a kindly +connexion with many other estimable men, both in literary and in +active life. Dalberg, at a distance, was to the last his friend and +warmest admirer. At Jena, he had Schütz, Paul, Hufland, Reinhold. +Wilhelm von Humboldt, also, brother of the celebrated traveller, had +come thither about this time, and was now among his closest +associates. At Weimar, excluding less important persons, there were +still Herder and Wieland, to divide his attention with Goethe. And +what to his affectionate heart must have been the most grateful +circumstance of all, his aged parents were yet living to participate +in the splendid fortune of the son whom they had once lamented and +despaired of, but never ceased to love. In 1793 he paid them a visit +in Swabia, and passed nine cheerful months among the scenes dearest to +his recollection: enjoying the kindness of those unalterable friends +whom Nature had given him; and the admiring deference of those by whom +it was most delightful to be honoured,—those who had known him in +adverse and humbler circumstances, whether they might have respected +or contemned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> him. By the Grand Duke, his ancient censor and patron, +he was not interfered with; that prince, in answer to a previous +application on the subject, having indirectly engaged to take no +notice of this journey. The Grand Duke had already interfered too much +with him, and bitterly repented of his interference. Next year he +died; an event which Schiller, who had long forgotten past +ill-treatment, did not learn without true sorrow, and grateful +recollections of bygone kindness. The new sovereign, anxious to repair +the injustice of his predecessor, almost instantly made offer of a +vacant Tübingen professorship to Schiller; a proposal flattering to +the latter, but which, by the persuasion of the Duke of Weimar, he +respectfully declined.</p> + +<p>Amid labours and amusements so multiplied, amid such variety of +intellectual exertion and of intercourse with men, Schiller, it was +clear, had not suffered the encroachments of bodily disease to +undermine the vigour of his mental or moral powers. No period of his +life displayed in stronger colours the lofty and determined zeal of +his character. He had already written much; his fame stood upon a firm +basis; domestic wants no longer called upon him for incessant effort; +and his frame was pining under the slow canker of an incurable malady. +Yet he never loitered, never rested; his fervid spirit, which had +vanquished opposition and oppression in his youth; which had struggled +against harassing uncertainties, and passed unsullied through many +temptations, in his earlier manhood, did not now yield to this last +and most fatal enemy. The present was the busiest, most productive +season of his literary life; and with all its drawbacks, it was +probably the happiest. Violent attacks from his disorder were of rare +occurrence; and its constant influence, the dark vapours with which it +would have overshadowed the faculties of his head and heart, were +repelled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> by diligence and a courageous exertion of his will. In other +points, he had little to complain of, and much to rejoice in. He was +happy in his family, the chosen scene of his sweetest, most lasting +satisfaction; by the world he was honoured and admired; his wants were +provided for; he had tasks which inspired and occupied him; friends +who loved him, and whom he loved. Schiller had much to enjoy, and most +of it he owed to himself.</p> + +<p>In his mode of life at Jena, simplicity and uniformity were the most +conspicuous qualities; the single excess which he admitted being that +of zeal in the pursuits of literature, the sin which all his life had +most easily beset him. His health had suffered much, and principally, +it was thought, from the practice of composing by night: yet the +charms of this practice were still too great for his self-denial; and, +except in severe fits of sickness, he could not discontinue it. The +highest, proudest pleasure of his mind was that glow of intellectual +production, that 'fine frenzy,' which makes the poet, while it lasts, +a new and nobler creature; exalting him into brighter regions, adorned +by visions of magnificence and beauty, and delighting all his +faculties by the intense consciousness of their exerted power. To +enjoy this pleasure in perfection, the solitary stillness of night, +diffusing its solemn influence over thought as well as earth and air, +had at length in Schiller's case grown indispensable. For this +purpose, accordingly, he was accustomed, in the present, as in former +periods, to invert the common order of things: by day he read, +refreshed himself with the aspect of nature, conversed or corresponded +with his friends; but he wrote and studied in the night. And as his +bodily feelings were too often those of languor and exhaustion, he +adopted, in impatience of such mean impediments, the pernicious +expedient of stimulants, which yield<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> a momentary strength, only to +waste our remaining fund of it more speedily and surely.</p> + +<p>'During summer, his place of study was in a garden, which at length he +purchased, in the suburbs of Jena, not far from the Weselhöfts' house, +where at that time was the office of the <i>Allgemeine +Litteratur-Zeitung</i>. Reckoning from the market-place of Jena, it lies +on the south-west border of the town, between the Engelgatter and the +Neuthor, in a hollow defile, through which a part of the Leutrabach +flows round the city. On the top of the acclivity, from which there is +a beautiful prospect into the valley of the Saal, and the fir +mountains of the neighbouring forest, Schiller built himself a small +house, with a single chamber.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> It was his favourite abode during +hours of composition; a great part of the works he then wrote were +written here. In winter he likewise dwelt apart from the noise of men; +in the Griesbachs' house, on the outside of the city-trench. * * * On +sitting down to his desk at night, he was wont to keep some strong +coffee, or wine-chocolate, but more frequently a flask of old Rhenish, +or Champagne, standing by him, that he might from time to time repair +the exhaustion of nature. Often the neighbours used to hear him +earnestly declaiming, in the silence of the night: and whoever had an +opportunity of watching him on such occasions, a thing very easy to be +done from the heights lying opposite his little garden-house, on the +other side of the dell, might see him now speaking aloud and walking +swiftly to and fro in his chamber, then suddenly throwing himself down +into his chair and writing; and drinking the while, sometimes more +than once, from the glass standing near him. In winter he was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> be +found at his desk till four, or even five o'clock in the morning; in +summer, till towards three. He then went to bed, from which he seldom +rose till nine or ten.'<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> + +<p>Had prudence been the dominant quality in Schiller's character, this +practice would undoubtedly have been abandoned, or rather never taken +up. It was an error so to waste his strength; but one of those which +increase rather than diminish our respect; originating, as it did, in +generous ardour for what was best and grandest, they must be cold +censurers that can condemn it harshly. For ourselves, we but lament +and honour this excess of zeal; its effects were mournful, but its +origin was noble. Who can picture Schiller's feelings in this +solitude, without participating in some faint reflection of their +grandeur! The toil-worn but devoted soul, alone, under the silent +starry canopy of Night, offering up the troubled moments of existence +on the altar of Eternity! For here the splendour that gleamed across +the spirit of a mortal, transient as one of us, was made to be +perpetual; these images and thoughts were to pass into other ages and +distant lands; to glow in human hearts, when the heart that conceived +them had long been mouldered into common dust. To the lovers of +genius, this little garden-house might have been a place to visit as a +chosen shrine; nor will they learn without regret that the walls of +it, yielding to the hand of time, have already crumbled into ruin, and +are now no longer to be traced. The piece of ground that it stood on +is itself hallowed with a glory that is bright, pure and abiding; but +the literary pilgrim could not have surveyed, without peculiar +emotion, the simple chamber, in which Schiller wrote the <i>Reich der +Schatten</i>, the <i>Spaziergang</i>, the <i>Ideal</i>, and the immortal scenes of +<i>Wallenstein</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>The last-named work had cost him many an anxious, given him many a +pleasant, hour. For seven years it had continued in a state of +irregular, and oft-suspended progress; sometimes 'lying endless and +formless' before him; sometimes on the point of being given up +altogether. The multitude of ideas, which he wished to incorporate in +the structure of the piece, retarded him; and the difficulty of +contenting his taste, respecting the manner of effecting this, +retarded him still more. In <i>Wallenstein</i> he wished to embody the more +enlarged notions which experience had given him of men, especially +which history had given him of generals and statesmen; and while +putting such characters in action, to represent whatever was, or could +be made, poetical, in the stormy period of the Thirty-Years War. As he +meditated on the subject, it continued to expand; in his fancy, it +assumed successively a thousand forms; and after all due strictness of +selection, such was still the extent of materials remaining on his +hands, that he found it necessary to divide the play into three parts, +distinct in their arrangements, but in truth forming a continuous +drama of eleven acts. In this shape it was sent forth to the world, in +1799; a work of labour and persevering anxiety, but of anxiety and +labour, as it then appeared, which had not been bestowed in vain. +<i>Wallenstein</i> is by far the best performance he had yet produced; it +merits a long chapter of criticism by itself; and a few hurried pages +are all that we can spend on it.</p> + +<p>As a porch to the great edifice stands Part first, entitled +<i>Wallenstein's Camp</i>, a piece in one act. It paints, with much humour +and graphical felicity, the manners of that rude tumultuous host which +Wallenstein presided over, and had made the engine of his ambitious +schemes. Schiller's early experience of a military life seems now to +have stood him in good stead; his soldiers are delineated with the +distinctness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> of actual observation; in rugged sharpness of feature, +they sometimes remind us of Smollett's seamen. Here are all the wild +lawless spirits of Europe assembled within the circuit of a single +trench. Violent, tempestuous, unstable is the life they lead. +Ishmaelites, their hands against every man, and every man's hand +against them; the instruments of rapine; tarnished with almost every +vice, and knowing scarcely any virtue but those of reckless bravery +and uncalculating obedience to their leader, their situation still +presents some aspects which affect or amuse us; and these the poet has +seized with his accustomed skill. Much of the cruelty and repulsive +harshness of these soldiers, we are taught to forget in contemplating +their forlorn houseless wanderings, and the practical magnanimity, +with which even they contrive to wring from Fortune a tolerable +scantling of enjoyment. Their manner of existence Wallenstein has, at +an after period of the action, rather movingly expressed:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Our life was but a battle and a march,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like the wind's blast, never-resting, homeless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We storm'd across the war-convulsed Earth.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Still farther to soften the asperities of the scene, the dialogue is +cast into a rude Hudibrastic metre, full of forced rhymes, and strange +double-endings, with a rhythm ever changing, ever rough and lively, +which might almost be compared to the hard, irregular, fluctuating +sound of the regimental drum. In this ludicrous doggrel, with phrases +and figures of a correspondent cast, homely, ridiculous, graphic, +these men of service paint their hopes and doings. There are ranks and +kinds among them; representatives of all the constituent parts of the +motley multitude, which followed this prince of <i>Condottieri</i>. The +solemn pedantry of the ancient Wachtmeister is faithfully given; no +less so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> are the jocund ferocity and heedless daring of Holky's +Jägers, or the iron courage and stern camp-philosophy of Pappenheim's +Cuirassiers. Of the Jäger the sole principle is military obedience; he +does not reflect or calculate; his business is to do whatever he is +ordered, and to enjoy whatever he can reach. 'Free wished I to live,' +he says,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Free wished I to live, and easy and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see something new on each new day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the joys of the moment lustily sharing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Bout the past or the future not thinking or caring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Kaiser, therefore, I sold my bacon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by him good charge of the whole is taken.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Order me on 'mid the whistling fiery shot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the Rhine-stream rapid and roaring wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A third of the troop must go to pot,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without loss of time, I mount and ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But farther, I beg very much, do you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in all things else you would leave me free.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Pappenheimer is an older man, more sedate and more indomitable; he +has wandered over Europe, and gathered settled maxims of soldierly +principle and soldierly privilege: he is not without a <i>rationale</i> of +life; the various professions of men have passed in review before him, +but no coat that he has seen has pleased him like his own 'steel +doublet,' cased in which, it is his wish,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Looking down on the world's poor restless scramble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Careless, through it, astride of his nag to ramble.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Yet at times with this military stoicism there is blended a dash of +homely pathos; he admits,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'This sword of ours is no plough or spade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot delve or reap with the iron blade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For us there falls no seed, no corn-field grows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neither home nor kindred the soldier knows:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering over the face of the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warming his hands at another's hearth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the pomp of towns he must onward roam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the village-green with its cheerful game,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the mirth of the vintage or harvest-home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No part or lot can the soldier claim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me then, in the place of goods or pelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What has he unless to honour himself?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave not even <i>this</i> his own, what wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man should burn and kill and plunder?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But the camp of Wallenstein is fall of bustle as well as speculation; +there are gamblers, peasants, sutlers, soldiers, recruits, capuchin +friars, moving to and fro in restless pursuit of their several +purposes. The sermon of the Capuchin is an unparalleled +composition;<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> a medley of texts, puns, nicknames, and verbal logic, +conglutinated by a stupid judgment, and a fiery catholic zeal. It +seems to be delivered with great unction, and to find fit audience in +the camp: towards the conclusion they rush upon him, and he narrowly +escapes killing or ducking, for having ventured to glance a censure at +the General. The soldiers themselves are jeering, wrangling, jostling; +discussing their wishes and expectations; and, at last, they combine +in a profound deliberation on the state of their affairs. A vague +exaggerated outline of the coming events and personages is imaged to +us in their coarse conceptions. We dimly discover the precarious +position of Wallenstein; the plots which threaten him, which he is +meditating: we trace the leading qualities of the principal officers; +and form a high estimate of the potent spirit which, binds this fierce +discordant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> mass together, and seems to be the object of universal +reverence where nothing else is revered.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Two Piccolomini</i>, the next division of the work, the generals +for whom we have thus been prepared appear in person on the scene, and +spread out before us their plots and counterplots; Wallenstein, +through personal ambition and evil counsel, slowly resolving to +revolt; and Octavio Piccolomini, in secret, undermining his influence +among the leaders, and preparing for him that pit of ruin, into which, +in the third Part, <i>Wallenstein's Death</i>, we see him sink with all his +fortunes. The military spirit which pervades the former piece is here +well sustained. The ruling motives of these captains and colonels are +a little more refined, or more disguised, than those of the +Cuirassiers and Jägers; but they are the same in substance; the love +of present or future pleasure, of action, reputation, money, power; +selfishness, but selfishness distinguished by a superficial external +propriety, and gilded over with the splendour of military honour, of +courage inflexible, yet light, cool and unassuming. These are not +imaginary heroes, but genuine hired men of war: we do not love them; +yet there is a pomp about their operations, which agreeably fills up +the scene. This din of war, this clash of tumultuous conflicting +interests, is felt as a suitable accompaniment to the affecting or +commanding movements of the chief characters whom it envelops or +obeys.</p> + +<p>Of the individuals that figure in this world of war, Wallenstein +himself, the strong Atlas which supports it all, is by far the most +imposing. Wallenstein is the model of a high-souled, great, +accomplished man, whose ruling passion is ambition. He is daring to +the utmost pitch of manhood; he is enthusiastic and vehement; but the +fire of his soul burns hid beneath a deep stratum of prudence, guiding +itself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> by calculations which extend to the extreme limits of his most +minute concerns. This prudence, sometimes almost bordering on +irresolution, forms the outward rind of his character, and for a while +is the only quality which we discover in it. The immense influence +which his genius appears to exert on every individual of his many +followers, prepares us to expect a great man; and, when Wallenstein, +after long delay and much forewarning, is in fine presented to us, we +at first experience something like a disappointment. We find him, +indeed, possessed of a staid grandeur; yet involved in mystery; +wavering between two opinions; and, as it seems, with all his wisdom, +blindly credulous in matters of the highest import. It is only when +events have forced decision on him, that he rises in his native might, +that his giant spirit stands unfolded in its strength before us;</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Night must it be, ere Friedland's star will beam:'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">amid difficulties, darkness and impending ruin, at which the boldest +of his followers grow pale, he himself is calm, and first in this +awful crisis feels the serenity and conscious strength of his soul +return. Wallenstein, in fact, though preeminent in power, both +external and internal, of high intellect and commanding will, skilled +in war and statesmanship beyond the best in Europe, the idol of sixty +thousand fearless hearts, is not yet removed above our sympathy. We +are united with him by feelings, which he reckons weak, though they +belong to the most generous parts of his nature. His indecision partly +takes its rise in the sensibilities of his heart, as well as in the +caution of his judgment: his belief in astrology, which gives force +and confirmation to this tendency, originates in some soft kindly +emotions, and adds a new interest to the spirit of the warrior; it +humbles him, to whom the earth is subject, before those mysterious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +Powers which weigh the destinies of man in their balance, in whose +eyes the greatest and the least of mortals scarcely differ in +littleness. Wallenstein's confidence in the friendship of Octavio, his +disinterested love for Max Piccolomini, his paternal and brotherly +kindness, are feelings which cast an affecting lustre over the +harsher, more heroic qualities wherewith they are combined. His +treason to the Emperor is a crime, for which, provoked and tempted as +he was, we do not greatly blame him; it is forgotten in our admiration +of his nobleness, or recollected only as a venial trespass. Schiller +has succeeded well with Wallenstein, where it was not easy to succeed. +The truth of history has been but little violated; yet we are +compelled to feel that Wallenstein, whose actions individually are +trifling, unsuccessful, and unlawful, is a strong, sublime, commanding +character; we look at him with interest, our concern at his fate is +tinged with a shade of kindly pity.</p> + +<p>In Octavio Piccolomini, his war-companion, we can find less fault, yet +we take less pleasure. Octavio's qualities are chiefly negative: he +rather walks by the letter of the moral law, than by its spirit; his +conduct is externally correct, but there is no touch of generosity +within. He is more of the courtier than of the soldier: his weapon is +intrigue, not force. Believing firmly that 'whatever is, is best,' he +distrusts all new and extraordinary things; he has no faith in human +nature, and seems to be virtuous himself more by calculation than by +impulse. We scarcely thank him for his loyalty; serving his Emperor, +he ruins and betrays his friend: and, besides, though he does not own +it, personal ambition is among his leading motives; he wishes to be +general and prince, and Wallenstein is not only a traitor to his +sovereign, but a bar to this advancement. It is true, Octavio does not +personally tempt him towards his destruc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>tion; but neither does he +warn him from it; and perhaps he knew that fresh temptation was +superfluous. Wallenstein did not deserve such treatment from a man +whom he had trusted as a brother, even though such confidence was +blind, and guided by visions and starry omens. Octavio is a skilful, +prudent, managing statesman; of the kind praised loudly, if not +sincerely, by their friends, and detested deeply by their enemies. His +object may be lawful or even laudable; but his ways are crooked; we +dislike him but the more that we know not positively how to blame him.</p> + +<p>Octavio Piccolomini and Wallenstein are, as it were, the two opposing +forces by which this whole universe of military politics is kept in +motion. The struggle of magnanimity and strength combined with +treason, against cunning and apparent virtue, aided by law, gives rise +to a series of great actions, which are here vividly presented to our +view. We mingle in the clashing interests of these men of war; we see +them at their gorgeous festivals and stormy consultations, and +participate in the hopes or fears that agitate them. The subject had +many capabilities; and Schiller has turned them all to profit. Our +minds are kept alert by a constant succession of animating scenes of +spectacle, dialogue, incident: the plot thickens and darkens as we +advance; the interest deepens and deepens to the very end.</p> + +<p>But among the tumults of this busy multitude, there are two forms of +celestial beauty that solicit our attention, and whose destiny, +involved with that of those around them, gives it an importance in our +eyes which it could not otherwise have had. Max Piccolomini, Octavio's +son, and Thekla, the daughter of Wallenstein, diffuse an ethereal +radiance over all this tragedy; they call forth the finest feelings of +the heart, where other feelings had already been aroused; they +superadd to the stirring pomp of scenes, which had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> already kindled +our imaginations, the enthusiasm of bright unworn humanity, 'the bloom +of young desire, the purple light of love.' The history of Max and +Thekla is not a rare one in poetry; but Schiller has treated it with a +skill which is extremely rare. Both of them are represented as +combining every excellence; their affection is instantaneous and +unbounded; yet the coolest, most sceptical reader is forced to admire +them, and believe in them.</p> + +<p>Of Max we are taught from the first to form the highest expectations: +the common soldiers and their captains speak of him as of a perfect +hero; the Cuirassiers had, at Pappenheim's death, on the field of +Lützen, appointed him their colonel by unanimous election. His +appearance answers these ideas: Max is the very spirit of honour, and +integrity, and young ardour, personified. Though but passing into +maturer age, he has already seen and suffered much; but the experience +of the man has not yet deadened or dulled the enthusiasm of the boy. +He has lived, since his very childhood, constantly amid the clang of +war, and with few ideas but those of camps; yet here, by a native +instinct, his heart has attracted to it all that was noble and +graceful in the trade of arms, rejecting all that was repulsive or +ferocious. He loves Wallenstein his patron, his gallant and majestic +leader: he loves his present way of life, because it is one of peril +and excitement, because he knows no other, but chiefly because his +young unsullied spirit can shed a resplendent beauty over even the +wastest region in the destiny of man. Yet though a soldier, and the +bravest of soldiers, he is not this alone. He feels that there are +fairer scenes in life, which these scenes of havoc and distress but +deform or destroy; his first acquaintance with the Princess Thekla +unveils to him another world, which till then he had not dreamed of; a +land of peace and serene elysian felicity,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> the charms of which he +paints with simple and unrivalled eloquence. Max is not more daring +than affectionate; he is merciful and gentle, though his training has +been under tents; modest and altogether unpretending, though young and +universally admired. We conceive his aspect to be thoughtful but +fervid, dauntless but mild: he is the very poetry of war, the essence +of a youthful hero. We should have loved him anywhere; but here, amid +barren scenes of strife and danger, he is doubly dear to us.</p> + +<p>His first appearance wins our favour; his eloquence in sentiment +prepares us to expect no common magnanimity in action. It is as +follows: <i>Octavio</i> and <i>Questenberg</i> are consulting on affairs of +state; <i>Max</i> enters: he is just returned from convoying the <i>Princess +Thekla</i> and her mother, the daughter and the wife of <i>Friedland</i>, to +the camp at Pilsen.</p> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Act I. Scene IV.</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Max Piccolomini, Octavio Piccolomini, Questenberg.</span></small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> 'Tis he himself! My father, welcome, welcome!</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>He embraces him: on turning round, he observes Questenberg, and +draws coldly back.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"> +Busied, I perceive? I will not interrupt you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> How now, Max? View this stranger better!<br /> +An old friend deserves regard and kindness;<br /> +The Kaiser's messenger should be rever'd!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> [<i>drily</i>] Von Questenberg! If it is good that brings you<br /> +To our head-quarters, welcome!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> [<i>has taken his hand</i>] Nay, draw not<br /> +Your hand away, Count Piccolomini!<br /> +Not on mine own account alone I grasp it,<br /> +And nothing common will I say therewith.<br /> +Octavio, Max, Piccolomini!<span style="padding-left: 6em">[<i>Taking both their hands.</i></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>Names of benignant solemn import! Never<br /> +Can Austria's fortune fail while two such stars,<br /> +To guide and guard her, gleam above our hosts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> You play it wrong, Sir Minister! To praise,<br /> +I wot, you come not hither; to blame and censure<br /> +You are come. Let me be no exception.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> [<i>to Max.</i>] He comes from Court, where every one is not<br /> +So well contented with the Duke as here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> And what new fault have they to charge him with?<br /> +That he alone decides what he alone<br /> +Can understand? Well! Should it not be so?<br /> +It should and must! This man was never made<br /> +To ply and mould himself like wax to others:<br /> +It goes against his heart; he cannot do it,<br /> +He has the spirit of a ruler, and<br /> +The station of a ruler. Well for us<br /> +It is so! Few can rule themselves, can use<br /> +Their wisdom wisely: happy for the whole<br /> +Where there is one among them that can be<br /> +A centre and a hold for many thousands;<br /> +That can plant himself like a firm column,<br /> +For the whole to lean on safely! Such a one<br /> +Is Wallenstein; some other man might better<br /> +Serve the Court, none else could serve the Army.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> The Army, truly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">And it is a pleasure</span><br /> +To behold how all awakes and strengthens<br /> +And revives around him; how men's faculties<br /> +Come forth; their gifts grow plainer to themselves!<br /> +From each he can elicit his endowment,<br /> +His peculiar power; and does it wisely;<br /> +Leaving each to be the man he found him,<br /> +Watching only that he always be so.<br /> +I' th' proper place: and thus he makes the talents<br /> +Of all mankind his own.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">No one denies him</span><br /> +Skill in men, and skill to use them. His fault is<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>That in the ruler he forgets the servant,<br /> +As if he had been born to be commander.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> And is he not? By birth he is invested<br /> +With all gifts for it, and with the farther gift<br /> +Of finding scope to use them; of acquiring<br /> +For the ruler's faculties the ruler's office.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> So that how far the rest of us have rights<br /> +Or influence, if any, lies with Friedland?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> He is no common person; he requires<br /> +No common confidence: allow him space;<br /> +The proper limit he himself will set.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> The trial shows it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">Ay! Thus it is with them!</span><br /> +Still so! All frights them that has any depth;<br /> +Nowhere are they at ease but in the shallows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> [<i>to Quest.</i>] Let him have his way, my friend! The argument<br /> +Will not avail us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em">They invoke the spirit</span><br /> +I' th' hour of need, and shudder when he rises.<br /> +The great, the wonderful, must be accomplished<br /> +Like a thing of course!—In war, in battle,<br /> +A moment is decisive; on the spot<br /> +Must be determin'd, in the instant done.<br /> +With ev'ry noble quality of nature<br /> +The leader must be gifted: let him live, then,<br /> +In their noble sphere! The oracle within him,<br /> +The living spirit, not dead books, old forms,<br /> +Not mould'ring parchments must he take to counsel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> My Son! despise not these old narrow forms!<br /> +They are as barriers, precious walls and fences,<br /> +Which oppressed mortals have erected<br /> +To mod'rate the rash will of their oppressors.<br /> +For the uncontrolled has ever been destructive.<br /> +The way of Order, though it lead through windings,<br /> +Is the best. Right forward goes the lightning<br /> +And the cannon-ball: quick, by the nearest path,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>They come, op'ning with murderous crash their way,<br /> +To blast and ruin! My Son! the quiet road<br /> +Which men frequent, where peace and blessings travel,<br /> +Follows the river's course, the valley's bendings;<br /> +Modest skirts the cornfield and the vineyard,<br /> +Revering property's appointed bounds;<br /> +And leading safe though slower to the mark.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> O, hear your Father! him who is at once<br /> +A hero and a man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">It is the child</span><br /> +O' th' camp that speaks in thee, my Son: a war<br /> +Of fifteen years has nursed and taught thee; peace<br /> +Thou hast never seen. My Son, there is a worth<br /> +Beyond the worth of warriors: ev'n in war itself<br /> +The object is not war. The rapid deeds<br /> +Of power, th' astounding wonders of the moment—<br /> +It is not these that minister to man<br /> +Aught useful, aught benignant or enduring.<br /> +In haste the wandering soldier comes, and builds<br /> +With canvas his light town: here in a moment<br /> +Is a rushing concourse; markets open;<br /> +Roads and rivers crowd with merchandise<br /> +And people; Traffic stirs his hundred arms.<br /> +Ere long, some morning, look,—and it is gone!<br /> +The tents are struck, the host has marched away;<br /> +Dead as a churchyard lies the trampled seed-field,<br /> +And wasted is the harvest of the year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> O Father! that the Kaiser <i>would</i> make peace!<br /> +The bloody laurel I would gladly change<br /> +For the first violet Spring should offer us,<br /> +The tiny pledge that Earth again was young!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> How's this? What is it that affects thee so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> Peace I have never seen? Yes, I have seen it!<br /> +Ev'n now I come from it: my journey led me<br /> +Through lands as yet unvisited by war.<br /> +O Father! life has charms, of which we know not:<br /> +We have but seen the barren coasts of life;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>Like some wild roving crew of lawless pirates,<br /> +Who, crowded in their narrow noisome ship,<br /> +Upon the rude sea, with rude manners dwell;<br /> +Naught of the fair land knowing but the bays,<br /> +Where they may risk their hurried thievish landing.<br /> +Of the loveliness that, in its peaceful dales,<br /> +The land conceals—O Father!—O, of this,<br /> +In our wild voyage we have seen no glimpse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> [<i>gives increased attention</i>]<br /> +And did this journey show thee much of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> 'Twas the first holiday of my existence.<br /> +Tell me, where's the end of all this labour,<br /> +This grinding labour that has stolen my youth,<br /> +And left my heart uncheer'd and void, my spirit<br /> +Uncultivated as a wilderness?<br /> +This camp's unceasing din; the neighing steeds;<br /> +The trumpet's clang; the never-changing round<br /> +Of service, discipline, parade, give nothing<br /> +To the heart, the heart that longs for nourishment.<br /> +There is no soul in this insipid bus'ness;<br /> +Life has another fate and other joys.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct.</span> Much hast thou learn'd, my Son, in this short journey!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> O blessed bright day, when at last the soldier<br /> +Shall turn back to life, and be again a man!<br /> +Through th' merry lines the colours are unfurl'd,<br /> +And homeward beats the thrilling soft peace-march;<br /> +All hats and helmets deck'd with leafy sprays,<br /> +The last spoil of the fields! The city's gates<br /> +Fly up; now needs not the petard to burst them:<br /> +The walls are crowded with rejoicing people;<br /> +Their shouts ring through the air: from every tower<br /> +Blithe bells are pealing forth the merry vesper<br /> +Of that bloody day. From town and hamlet<br /> +Flow the jocund thousands; with their hearty<br /> +Kind impetuosity our march impeding.<br /> +The old man, weeping that he sees this day,<br /> +Embraces his long-lost son: a stranger<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>He revisits his old home; with spreading boughs<br /> +The tree o'ershadows him at his return,<br /> +Which waver'd as a twig when he departed;<br /> +And modest blushing comes a maid to meet him,<br /> +Whom on her nurse's breast he left. O happy,<br /> +For whom some kindly door like this, for whom<br /> +Soft arms to clasp him shall be open'd!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Quest.</span> [<i>with emotion</i>]<span style="padding-left: 8em">O that</span><br /> +The times you speak of should be so far distant!<br /> +Should not be tomorrow, be today!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> And who's to blame for it but you at Court?<br /> +I will deal plainly with you, Questenberg:<br /> +When I observ'd you here, a twinge of spleen<br /> +And bitterness went through me. It is you<br /> +That hinder peace; yes, you. The General<br /> +Must force it, and you ever keep tormenting him,<br /> +Obstructing all his steps, abusing him;<br /> +For what? Because the good of Europe lies<br /> +Nearer his heart, than whether certain acres<br /> +More or less of dirty land be Austria's!<br /> +You call him traitor, rebel, God knows what,<br /> +Because he spares the Saxons; as if that<br /> +Were not the only way to peace; for how<br /> +If during war, war end not, <i>can</i> peace follow?<br /> +Go to! go to! As I love goodness, so I hate<br /> +This paltry work of yours: and here I vow to God,<br /> +For him, this rebel, traitor Wallenstein,<br /> +To shed my blood, my heart's blood, drop by drop,<br /> +Ere I will see you triumph in his fall!</p> +</div> + +<p>The Princess Thekla is perhaps still dearer to us. Thekla, just +entering on life, with 'timid steps,' with the brilliant visions of a +cloister yet undisturbed by the contradictions of reality, beholds in +Max, not merely her protector and escort to her father's camp, but the +living emblem of her shapeless yet glowing dreams. She knows not +deception, she trusts and is trusted: their spirits meet and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> mingle, +and 'clasp each other firmly and forever.' All this is described by +the poet with a quiet inspiration, which finds its way into our +deepest sympathies. Such beautiful simplicity is irresistible. 'How +long,' the Countess Terzky asks,</p> + +<div class="drama"> +<p style="text-indent: 0em">How long is it since you disclosed your heart?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> This morning first I risked a word of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Coun.</span> Not till this morning during twenty days?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span> 'Twas at the castle where you met us, 'twixt this<br /> +And Nepomuk, the last stage of the journey.<br /> +On a balcony she and I were standing, our looks<br /> +In silence turn'd upon the vacant landscape;<br /> +And before us the dragoons were riding,<br /> +Whom the Duke had sent to be her escort.<br /> +Heavy on my heart lay thoughts of parting,<br /> +And with a faltering voice at last I said:<br /> +All this reminds me, Fräulein, that today<br /> +I must be parted from my happiness;<br /> +In few hours you will find a father,<br /> +Will see yourself encircled by new friends;<br /> +And I shall be to you nought but a stranger,<br /> +Forgotten in the crowd—"Speak with Aunt Terzky!"<br /> +Quick she interrupted me; I noticed<br /> +A quiv'ring in her voice; a glowing blush<br /> +Spread o'er her cheeks; slow rising from the ground,<br /> +Her eyes met mine: I could control myself<br /> +No longer—</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The Princess appears at the door, and stops; the Countess, but not +Piccolomini, observing her.</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="padding-left: 6em;">—I clasp'd her wildly in my arms,</span><br /> +My lips were join'd with hers. Some footsteps stirring<br /> +I' th' next room parted us; 'twas you; what then<br /> +Took place, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Coun.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">And can you be so modest,</span><br /> +Or incurious, as not once to ask me<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>For <i>my</i> secret, in return?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Your secret?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Coun.</span> Yes, sure! On coming in the moment after,<br /> +How my niece receiv'd me, what i' th' instant<br /> +Of her first surprise she—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Max.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">Ha?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>enters hastily</i>].<span style="padding-left: 2em">Spare yourself</span><br /> +The trouble, Aunt! That he can learn from me.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>We rejoice in the ardent, pure and confiding affection of these two +angelic beings: but our feeling is changed and made more poignant, +when we think that the inexorable hand of Destiny is already lifted to +smite their world with blackness and desolation. Thekla has enjoyed +'two little hours of heavenly beauty;' but her native gaiety gives +place to serious anticipations and alarms; she feels that the camp of +Wallenstein is not a place for hope to dwell in. The instructions and +explanations of her aunt disclose the secret: she is not to love Max; +a higher, it may be a royal, fate awaits her; but she is to tempt him +from his duty, and make him lend his influence to her father, whose +daring projects she now for the first time discovers. From that moment +her hopes of happiness have vanished, never more to return. Yet her +own sorrows touch her less than the ruin which she sees about to +overwhelm her tender and affectionate mother. For herself, she waits +with gloomy patience the stroke that is to crush her. She is meek, and +soft, and maiden-like; but she is Friedland's daughter, and does not +shrink from what is unavoidable. There is often a rectitude, and quick +inflexibility of resolution about Thekla, which contrasts beautifully +with her inexperience and timorous acuteness of feeling: on +discovering her father's treason, she herself decides that Max 'shall +obey his first impulse,' and forsake her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>There are few scenes in poetry more sublimely pathetic than this. We +behold the sinking but still fiery glory of Wallenstein, opposed to +the impetuous despair of Max Piccolomini, torn asunder by the claims +of duty and of love; the calm but broken-hearted Thekla, beside her +broken-hearted mother, and surrounded by the blank faces of +Wallenstein's desponding followers. There is a physical pomp +corresponding to the moral grandeur of the action; the successive +revolt and departure of the troops is heard without the walls of the +Palace; the trumpets of the Pappenheimers reëcho the wild feelings of +their leader. What follows too is equally affecting. Max being forced +away by his soldiers from the side of Thekla, rides forth at their +head in a state bordering on frenzy. Next day come tidings of his +fate, which no heart is hard enough to hear unmoved. The effect it +produces upon Thekla displays all the hidden energies of her soul. The +first accidental hearing of the news had almost overwhelmed her; but +she summons up her strength: she sends for the messenger, that she may +question him more closely, and listen to his stern details with the +heroism of a Spartan virgin.</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Act IV. Scene X.</span><br /> + +<small><span class="smcap">Thekla; the Swedish Captain; Fräulein Neubrunn.</span></small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> [<i>approaches respectfully</i>]<br /> +Princess—I—must pray you to forgive me<br /> +My most rash unthinking words: I could not—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>with noble dignity</i>].<br /> +You saw me in my grief; a sad chance made you<br /> +At once my confidant, who were a stranger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> I fear the sight of me is hateful to you:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>They were mournful tidings I brought hither.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> The blame was mine! 'Twas I that forced them from you;<br /> +Your voice was but the voice of Destiny.<br /> +My terror interrupted your recital:<br /> +Finish it, I pray you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">'Twill renew your grief!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I am prepared for't, I will be prepared.<br /> +Proceed! How went the action? Let me hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> At Neustadt, dreading no surprise, we lay<br /> +Slightly entrench'd; when towards night a cloud<br /> +Of dust rose from the forest, and our outposts<br /> +Rush'd into the camp, and cried: The foe was there!<br /> +Scarce had we time to spring on horseback, when<br /> +The Pappenheimers, coming at full gallop,<br /> +Dash'd o'er the palisado, and next moment<br /> +These fierce troopers pass'd our camp-trench also.<br /> +But thoughtlessly their courage had impelled them<br /> +To advance without support; their infantry<br /> +Was far behind; only the Pappenheimers<br /> +Boldly following their bold leader—</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Thekla makes a movement. The Captain pauses for a moment, till she +beckons him to proceed.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">On front and flank with all our horse we charged them;<br /> +And ere long forc'd them back upon the trench,<br /> +Where rank'd in haste our infantry presented<br /> +An iron hedge of pikes to stop their passage.<br /> +Advance they could not, nor retreat a step,<br /> +Wedg'd in this narrow prison, death on all sides.<br /> +Then the Rheingraf call'd upon their leader,<br /> +In fair battle, fairly to surrender:<br /> +But Colonel Piccolomini—<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>Thekla, tottering, catches by a seat.</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 12em">—We knew him</span><br /> +By's helmet-plume and his long flowing hair,<br /> +The rapid ride had loosen'd it: to th' trench<br /> +He points; leaps first himself his gallant steed<br /> +Clean over it; the troop plunge after him:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>But—in a twinkle it was done!—his horse<br /> +Run through the body by a partisan,<br /> +Rears in its agony, and pitches far<br /> +Its rider; and fierce o'er him tramp the steeds<br /> +O' th' rest, now heeding neither bit nor bridle.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Thekla, who has listened to the last words with increasing anguish, +falls into a violent tremor; she is sinking to the ground; Fräulein +Neubrunn hastens to her, and receives her in her arms.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Lady, dearest mistress—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> [<i>moved</i>]<span style="padding-left: 7em">Let me begone.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> 'Tis past; conclude it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">Seeing their leader fall,</span><br /> +A grim inexorable desperation<br /> +Seiz'd the troops: their own escape forgotten,<br /> +Like wild tigers they attack us; their fury<br /> +Provokes our soldiers, and the battle ends not<br /> +Till the last man of the Pappenheimers falls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>with a quivering voice</i>].<br /> +And where—where is—You have not told me all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]<br /> +This morning we interr'd him. He was borne<br /> +By twelve youths of the noblest families,<br /> +And all our host accompanied the bier.<br /> +A laurel deck'd his coffin; and upon it<br /> +The Rheingraf laid his own victorious sword.<br /> +Nor were tears wanting to his fate: for many<br /> +Of us had known his noble-mindedness,<br /> +And gentleness of manners; and all hearts<br /> +Were mov'd at his sad end. Fain would the Rheingraf<br /> +Have sav'd him; but himself prevented it;<br /> +'Tis said he wish'd to die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> [<i>with emotion, to Thekla, who hides her face</i>]<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 11em">O! dearest mistress,</span><br /> +Look up! O, why would you insist on this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Where is his grave?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">I' th' chapel of a cloister</span><br /> +At Neustadt is he laid, till we receive<br /> +Directions from his father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">What is its name?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> St. Catharine's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Is't far from this?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 14em">Seven leagues.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How goes the way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">You come by Tirschenreit</span><br /> +And Falkenberg, and through our farthest outposts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Who commands them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span><span style="padding-left: 11em">Colonel Seckendorf.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>steps to a table, and takes a ring from her jewel-box</i>].<br /> +You have seen me in my grief, and shown me<br /> +A sympathising heart: accept a small<br /> +Memorial of this hour [<i>giving him the ring</i>].<span style="padding-left: 1em">Now leave me.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Capt.</span> [<i>overpowered</i>]<span style="padding-left: 13em">Princess!</span></p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Thekla silently makes him a sign to go, and turns from<br /> +him. He lingers, and attempts to speak; Neubrunn<br /> +repeats the sign; he goes.</i></p> +</div> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene XI.</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Neubrunn; Thekla.</span></small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>falls on Neubrunn's neck</i>].<br /> +Now, good Neubrunn, is the time to show the love<br /> +Which thou hast always vow'd me. Prove thyself<br /> +A true friend and attendant! We must go,<br /> +This very night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Go! This very night! And whither?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Whither? There is but one place in the world,<br /> +The place where he lies buried: to his grave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Alas, what would you there, my dearest mistress?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What there? Unhappy girl! Thou wouldst not ask<br /> +If thou hadst ever lov'd. There, there, is all<br /> +That yet remains of him; that one small spot<br /> +Is all the earth to me. Do not detain me!<br /> +O, come! Prepare, think how we may escape.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Have you reflected on your father's anger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I dread no mortal's anger now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 15em">The mockery</span><br /> +Of the world, the wicked tongue of slander!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I go to seek one that is cold and low:<br /> +Am I, then, hast'ning to my lover's arms?<br /> +O God! I am but hast'ning to his grave!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> And we alone? Two feeble, helpless women?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> We will arm ourselves; my hand shall guard thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> In the gloomy night-time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">Night will hide us.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> In this rude storm?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">Was <i>his</i> bed made of down,</span><br /> +When the horses' hoofs went o'er him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">O Heaven!</span><br /> +And then the many Swedish posts! They will not<br /> +Let us pass.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Are they not men? Misfortune<br /> +Passes free through all the earth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">So far! So—</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Does the pilgrim count the miles, when journeying<br /> +To the distant shrine of grace?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">How shall we</span><br /> +Even get out of Eger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Gold opens gates.</span><br /> +Go! Do go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">If they should recognise us?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> In a fugitive despairing woman<br /> +No one will look to meet with Friedland's daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> And where shall we get horses for our flight?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> My Equerry will find them. Go and call him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Will he venture without his master's knowledge?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> He will, I tell thee. Go! O, linger not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Ah! And what will your mother do when you<br /> +Are vanish'd?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>recollecting this, and gazing with a look of anguish</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 7em">O my mother!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> <span style="padding-left: 10em">Your good mother!</span><br /> +She has already had so much to suffer.<br /> +Must this last heaviest stroke too fall on her?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I cannot help it. Go, I prithee, go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Think well what you are doing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 11em">All is thought</span><br /> +That can be thought, already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em"><i>Were</i> we there,</span><br /> +What would you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em">God will direct me, there.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> Your heart is full of trouble: O my lady!<br /> +This way leads <i>not</i> to peace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">To that deep peace</span><br /> +Which he has found. O, hasten! Go! No words!<br /> +There is some force, I know not what to call it,<br /> +Pulls me irresistibly, and drags me<br /> +On to his grave: there I shall find some solace<br /> +Instantly; the strangling band of sorrow<br /> +Will be loosen'd; tears will flow. O, hasten!<br /> +Long time ago we might have been o' th' road.<br /> +No rest for me till I have fled these walls:<br /> +They fall upon me, some dark power repels me<br /> +From them—Ha! What's this? The chamber's filling<br /> +With pale gaunt shapes! No room is left for me!<br /> +More! more! The crowding spectres press on me,<br /> +And push me forth from this accursed house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neu.</span> You frighten me, my lady: I dare stay<br /> +No longer; quickly I'll call Rosenberg.</p> +</div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene XII.</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span></small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">It is his spirit calls me! 'Tis the host<br /> +Of faithful souls that sacrificed themselves<br /> +In fiery vengeance for him. They upbraid me<br /> +For this loit'ring: <i>they</i> in death forsook him not,<br /> +Who in their life had led them; their rude hearts<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>Were capable of this: and <i>I</i> can live?</p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">No! No! That laurel-garland which they laid<br /> +Upon his bier was twined for both of us!<br /> +What is this life without the light of love?<br /> +I cast it from me, since its worth is gone.<br /> +Yes, when we found and lov'd each other, life<br /> +Was something! Glittering lay before me<br /> +The golden morn: I had two hours of Heaven.</p> + +<p>Thou stoodest at the threshold of the scene<br /> +Of busy life; with timid steps I cross'd it:<br /> +How fair it lay in solemn shade and sheen!<br /> +And thou beside me, like some angel, posted<br /> +To lead me out of childhood's fairy land<br /> +On to life's glancing summit, hand in hand!<br /> +My first thought was of joy no tongue can tell,<br /> +My first look on <i>thy</i> spotless spirit fell.<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 4em">[<i>She sinks into a reverie, then with signs of horror proceeds.</i></span><br /> +And Fate put forth his hand: inexorable, cold,<br /> +My friend it grasp'd and clutch'd with iron hold,<br /> +And—under th' hoofs of their wild horses hurl'd:<br /> +Such is the lot of loveliness i' th' world!</p> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Thekla has yet another pang to encounter; the parting with her mother: +but she persists in her determination, and goes forth, to die beside +her lover's grave. The heart-rending emotions, which this amiable +creature has to undergo, are described with an almost painful effect: +the fate of Max and Thekla might draw tears from the eyes of a stoic.</p> + +<p>Less tender, but not less sublimely poetical, is the fate of +Wallenstein himself. We do not pity Wallenstein; even in ruin he seems +too great for pity. His daughter having vanished like a fair vision +from the scene, we look forward to Wallenstein's inevitable fate with +little feeling save expectant awe:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This kingly Wallenstein, whene'er he falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will drag a world to ruin down with him;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a ship that in the midst of ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catches fire, and shiv'ring springs into the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in a moment scatters between sea and sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crew it bore, so will he hurry to destruction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'ry one whose fate was join'd with his.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Yet still there is some touch of pathos in his gloomy fall; some +visitings of nature in the austere grandeur of his slowly-coming, but +inevitable and annihilating doom. The last scene of his life is among +the finest which poetry can boast of. Thekla's death is still unknown +to him; but he thinks of Max, and almost weeps. He looks at the stars: +dim shadows of superstitious dread pass fitfully across his spirit, as +he views these fountains of light, and compares their glorious and +enduring existence with the fleeting troubled life of man. The strong +spirit of his sister is subdued by dark forebodings; omens are against +him; his astrologer entreats, one of the relenting conspirators +entreats, his own feelings call upon him, to watch and beware. But he +refuses to let the resolution of his mind be overmastered; he casts +away these warnings, and goes cheerfully to sleep, with dreams of hope +about his pillow, unconscious that the javelins are already grasped +which will send him to his long and dreamless sleep. The death of +Wallenstein does not cause tears; but it is perhaps the most +high-wrought scene of the play. A shade of horror, of fateful +dreariness, hangs over it, and gives additional effect to the fire of +that brilliant poetry, which glows in every line of it. Except in +<i>Macbeth</i> or the conclusion of <i>Othello</i>, we know not where to match +it. Schiller's genius is of a kind much narrower than Shakspeare's; +but in his own peculiar province, the exciting of lofty, earnest, +strong emotion, he admits of no superior. Others are finer, more +piercing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> varied, thrilling, in their influence: Schiller, in his +finest mood, is overwhelming.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">This tragedy of <i>Wallenstein</i>, published at the close of the +eighteenth century, may safely be rated as the greatest dramatic work +of which that century can boast. France never rose into the sphere of +Schiller, even in the days of her Corneille: nor can our own country, +since the times of Elizabeth, name any dramatist to be compared with +him in general strength of mind, and feeling, and acquired +accomplishment. About the time of <i>Wallenstein's</i> appearance, we of +this gifted land were shuddering at <i>The Castle Spectre</i>! Germany, +indeed, boasts of Goethe: and on some rare occasions, it must be owned +that Goethe has shown talents of a higher order than are here +manifested; but he has made no equally regular or powerful exertion of +them: <i>Faust</i> is but a careless effusion compared with <i>Wallenstein</i>. +The latter is in truth a vast and magnificent work. What an assemblage +of images, ideas, emotions, disposed in the most felicitous and +impressive order! We have conquerors, statesmen, ambitious generals, +marauding soldiers, heroes, and heroines, all acting and feeling as +they would in nature, all faithfully depicted, yet all embellished by +the spirit of poetry, and all made conducive to heighten one paramount +impression, our sympathy with the three chief characters of the +piece.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Soon after the publication of <i>Wallenstein</i>, Schiller once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> more +changed his abode. The 'mountain air of Jena' was conceived by his +physicians to be prejudicial in disorders of the lungs; and partly in +consequence of this opinion, he determined henceforth to spend his +winters in Weimar. Perhaps a weightier reason in favour of this new +arrangement was the opportunity it gave him of being near the theatre, +a constant attendance on which, now that he had once more become a +dramatist, seemed highly useful for his farther improvement. The +summer he, for several years, continued still to spend in Jena; to +which, especially its beautiful environs, he declared himself +particularly attached. His little garden-house was still his place of +study during summer; till at last he settled constantly at Weimar. +Even then he used frequently to visit Jena; to which there was a fresh +attraction in later years, when Goethe chose it for his residence, +which, we understand, it still occasionally is. With Goethe he often +stayed for months.</p> + +<p>This change of place produced little change in Schiller's habits or +employment: he was now as formerly in the pay of the Duke of Weimar; +now as formerly engaged in dramatic composition as the great object of +his life. What the amount of his pension was, we know not: that the +Prince behaved to him in a princely manner, we have proof sufficient. +Four years before, when invited to the University of Tübingen, +Schiller had received a promise, that, in case of sickness or any +other cause preventing the continuance of his literary labour, his +salary should be doubled. It was actually increased on occasion of the +present removal; and again still farther in 1804, some advantageous +offers being made to him from Berlin. Schiller seems to have been, +what he might have wished to be, neither poor nor rich: his simple +unostentatious economy went on without embarrassment: and this was all +that he required. To avoid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> pecuniary perplexities was constantly +among his aims: to amass wealth, never. We ought also to add that, in +1802, by the voluntary solicitation of the Duke, he was ennobled; a +fact which we mention, for his sake by whose kindness this honour was +procured; not for the sake of Schiller, who accepted it with +gratitude, but had neither needed nor desired it.</p> + +<p>The official services expected of him in return for so much kindness +seem to have been slight, if any. Chiefly or altogether of his own +accord, he appears to have applied himself to a close inspection of +the theatre, and to have shared with Goethe the task of superintending +its concerns. The rehearsals of new pieces commonly took place at the +house of one of these friends; they consulted together on all such +subjects, frankly and copiously. Schiller was not slow to profit by +the means of improvement thus afforded him; in the mechanical details +of his art he grew more skilful: by a constant observation of the +stage, he became more acquainted with its capabilities and its laws. +It was not long till, with his characteristic expansiveness of +enterprise, he set about turning this new knowledge to account. In +conjunction with Goethe, he remodelled his own <i>Don Carlos</i> and his +friend's <i>Count Egmont</i>, altering both according to his latest views +of scenic propriety. It was farther intended to treat, in the same +manner, the whole series of leading German plays, and thus to produce +a national stock of dramatic pieces, formed according to the best +rules; a vast project, in which some progress continued to be made, +though other labours often interrupted it. For the present, Schiller +was engaged with his <i>Maria Stuart</i>: it appeared in 1800.</p> + +<p>This tragedy will not detain us long. It is upon a subject, the +incidents of which are now getting trite, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> the moral of which has +little that can peculiarly recommend it. To exhibit the repentance of +a lovely but erring woman, to show us how her soul may be restored to +its primitive nobleness, by sufferings, devotion and death, is the +object of <i>Maria Stuart</i>. It is a tragedy of sombre and mournful +feelings; with an air of melancholy and obstruction pervading it; a +looking backward on objects of remorse, around on imprisonment, and +forward on the grave. Its object is undoubtedly attained. We are +forced to pardon and to love the heroine; she is beautiful, and +miserable, and lofty-minded; and her crimes, however dark, have been +expiated by long years of weeping and woe. Considering also that they +were the fruit not of calculation, but of passion acting on a heart +not dead, though blinded for a time, to their enormity, they seem less +hateful than the cold premeditated villany of which she is the victim. +Elizabeth is selfish, heartless, envious; she violates no law, but she +has no virtue, and she lives triumphant: her arid, artificial +character serves by contrast to heighten our sympathy with her +warm-hearted, forlorn, ill-fated rival. These two Queens, particularly +Mary, are well delineated: their respective qualities are vividly +brought out, and the feelings they were meant to excite arise within +us. There is also Mortimer, a fierce, impetuous, impassioned lover; +driven onward chiefly by the heat of his blood, but still interesting +by his vehemence and unbounded daring. The dialogue, moreover, has +many beauties; there are scenes which have merited peculiar +commendation. Of this kind is the interview between the Queens; and +more especially the first entrance of Mary, when, after long +seclusion, she is once more permitted to behold the cheerful sky. In +the joy of a momentary freedom, she forgets that she is still a +captive; she addresses the clouds, the 'sailors of the air,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> who 'are +not subjects of Elizabeth,' and bids them carry tidings of her to the +hearts that love her in other lands. Without doubt, in all that he +intended, Schiller has succeeded; <i>Maria Stuart</i> is a beautiful +tragedy; it would have formed the glory of a meaner man, but it cannot +materially alter his. Compared with <i>Wallenstein</i>, its purpose is +narrow, and its result is common. We have no manners or true +historical delineation. The figure of the English court is not given; +and Elizabeth is depicted more like one of the French Medici, than +like our own politic, capricious, coquettish, imperious, yet on the +whole true-hearted, 'good Queen Bess.' With abundant proofs of genius, +this tragedy produces a comparatively small effect, especially on +English readers. We have already wept enough for Mary Stuart, both +over prose and verse; and the persons likely to be deeply touched with +the moral or the interest of her story, as it is recorded here, are +rather a separate class than men in general. Madame de Staël, we +observe, is her principal admirer.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Next year, Schiller took possession of a province more peculiarly his +own: in 1801, appeared his <i>Maid of Orleans</i> (<i>Jungfrau von Orleans</i>); +the first hint of which was suggested to him by a series of documents, +relating to the sentence of Jeanne d'Arc, and its reversal, first +published about this time by De l'Averdy of the <i>Académie des +Inscriptions</i>. Schiller had been moved in perusing them: this tragedy +gave voice to his feelings.</p> + +<p>Considered as an object of poetry or history, Jeanne d'Arc, the most +singular personage of modern times, presents a character capable of +being viewed under a great variety of aspects, and with a +corresponding variety of emotions. To the English of her own age, +bigoted in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> creed, and baffled by her prowess, she appeared +inspired by the Devil, and was naturally burnt as a sorceress. In this +light, too, she is painted in the poems of Shakspeare. To Voltaire, +again, whose trade it was to war with every kind of superstition, this +child of fanatic ardour seemed no better than a moonstruck zealot; and +the people who followed her, and believed in her, something worse than +lunatics. The glory of what she had achieved was forgotten, when the +means of achieving it were recollected; and the Maid of Orleans was +deemed the fit subject of a poem, the wittiest and most profligate for +which literature has to blush. Our illustrious <i>Don Juan</i> hides his +head when contrasted with Voltaire's <i>Pucelle</i>: Juan's biographer, +with all his zeal, is but an innocent, and a novice, by the side of +this arch-scorner.</p> + +<p>Such a manner of considering the Maid of Orleans is evidently not the +right one. Feelings so deep and earnest as hers can never be an object +of ridicule: whoever pursues a purpose of any sort with such fervid +devotedness, is entitled to awaken emotions, at least of a serious +kind, in the hearts of others. Enthusiasm puts on a different shape in +every different age: always in some degree sublime, often it is +dangerous; its very essence is a tendency to error and exaggeration; +yet it is the fundamental quality of strong souls; the true nobility +of blood, in which all greatness of thought or action has its rise. +<i>Quicquid vult valdè vult</i> is ever the first and surest test of mental +capability. This peasant girl, who felt within her such fiery +vehemence of resolution, that she could subdue the minds of kings and +captains to her will, and lead armies on to battle, conquering, till +her country was cleared of its invaders, must evidently have possessed +the elements of a majestic character. Benevolent feelings, sublime +ideas, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> above all an overpowering will, are here indubitably +marked. Nor does the form, which her activity assumed, seem less +adapted for displaying these qualities, than many other forms in which +we praise them. The gorgeous inspirations of the Catholic religion are +as real as the phantom of posthumous renown; the love of our native +soil is as laudable as ambition, or the principle of military honour. +Jeanne d'Arc must have been a creature of shadowy yet far-glancing +dreams, of unutterable feelings, of 'thoughts that wandered through +Eternity.' Who can tell the trials and the triumphs, the splendours +and the terrors, of which her simple spirit was the scene! 'Heartless, +sneering, god-forgetting French!' as old Suwarrow called them,—they +are not worthy of this noble maiden. Hers were errors, but errors +which a generous soul alone could have committed, and which generous +souls would have done more than pardon. Her darkness and delusions +were of the understanding only; they but make the radiance of her +heart more touching and apparent; as clouds are gilded by the orient +light into something more beautiful than azure itself.</p> + +<p>It is under this aspect that Schiller has contemplated the Maid of +Orleans, and endeavoured to make us contemplate her. For the latter +purpose, it appears that more than one plan had occurred to him. His +first idea was, to represent Joanna, and the times she lived in, as +they actually were: to exhibit the superstition, ferocity, and +wretchedness of the period, in all their aggravation; and to show us +this patriotic and religious enthusiast beautifying the tempestuous +scene by her presence; swaying the fierce passions of her countrymen; +directing their fury against the invaders of France; till at length, +forsaken and condemned to die, she perished at the stake, retaining +the same steadfast and lofty faith, which had ennobled and redeemed +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> errors of her life, and was now to glorify the ignominy of her +death. This project, after much deliberation, he relinquished, as too +difficult. By a new mode of management, much of the homeliness and +rude horror, that defaced and encumbered the reality, is thrown away. +The Dauphin is not here a voluptuous weakling, nor is his court the +centre of vice and cruelty and imbecility: the misery of the time is +touched but lightly, and the Maid of Arc herself is invested with a +certain faint degree of mysterious dignity, ultimately represented as +being in truth a preternatural gift; though whether preternatural, and +if so, whether sent from above or from below, neither we nor she, +except by faith, are absolutely sure, till the conclusion.</p> + +<p>The propriety of this arrangement is liable to question; indeed, it +has been more than questioned. But external blemishes are lost in the +intrinsic grandeur of the piece: the spirit of Joanna is presented to +us with an exalting and pathetic force sufficient to make us blind to +far greater improprieties. Joanna is a pure creation, of +half-celestial origin, combining the mild charms of female loveliness +with the awful majesty of a prophetess, and a sacrifice doomed to +perish for her country. She resembled, in Schiller's view, the +Iphigenia of the Greeks; and as such, in some respects, he has treated +her.</p> + +<p>The woes and desolation of the land have kindled in Joanna's keen and +fervent heart a fire, which the loneliness of her life, and her deep +feelings of religion, have nourished and fanned into a holy flame. She +sits in solitude with her flocks, beside the mountain chapel of the +Virgin, under the ancient Druid oak, a wizard spot, the haunt of evil +spirits as well as of good; and visions are revealed to her such as +human eyes behold not. It seems the force of her own spirit, +expressing its feelings in forms which react upon itself. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +strength of her impulses persuades her that she is called from on high +to deliver her native France; the intensity of her own faith persuades +others; she goes forth on her mission; all bends to the fiery +vehemence of her will; she is inspired because she thinks herself so. +There is something beautiful and moving in the aspect of a noble +enthusiasm, fostered in the secret soul, amid obstructions and +depressions, and at length bursting forth with an overwhelming force +to accomplish its appointed end: the impediments which long hid it are +now become testimonies of its power; the very ignorance, and meanness, +and error, which still in part adhere to it, increase our sympathy +without diminishing our admiration; it seems the triumph, hardly +contested, and not wholly carried, but still the triumph, of Mind over +Fate, of human volition over material necessity.</p> + +<p>All this Schiller felt, and has presented with even more than his +usual skill. The secret mechanism of Joanna's mind is concealed from +us in a dim religious obscurity; but its active movements are +distinct; we behold the lofty heroism of her feelings; she affects us +to the very heart. The quiet, devout innocence of her early years, +when she lived silent, shrouded in herself, meek and kindly though not +communing with others, makes us love her: the celestial splendour +which illuminates her after-life adds reverence to our love. Her words +and actions combine an overpowering force with a calm unpretending +dignity: we seem to understand how they must have carried in their +favour the universal conviction. Joanna is the most noble being in +tragedy. We figure her with her slender lovely form, her mild but +spirit-speaking countenance; 'beautiful and terrible;' bearing the +banner of the Virgin before the hosts of her country; travelling in +the strength of a rapt soul; irresistible by faith; 'the lowly +herdsmaid,' greater in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> grandeur of her simple spirit than the +kings and queens of this world. Yet her breast is not entirely +insensible to human feeling, nor her faith never liable to waver. When +that inexorable vengeance, which had shut her ear against the voice of +mercy to the enemies of France, is suspended at the sight of Lionel, +and her heart experiences the first touch of mortal affection, a +baleful cloud overspreads the serene of her mind; it seems as if +Heaven had forsaken her, or from the beginning permitted demons or +earthly dreams to deceive her. The agony of her spirit, involved in +endless and horrid labyrinths of doubt, is powerfully portrayed. She +has crowned the king at Rheims; and all is joy, and pomp, and jubilee, +and almost adoration of Joanna: but Joanna's thoughts are not of joy. +The sight of her poor but kind and true-hearted sisters in the crowd, +moves her to the soul. Amid the tumult and magnificence of this royal +pageant, she sinks into a reverie; her small native dale of Arc, +between its quiet hills, rises on her mind's eye, with its +straw-roofed huts, and its clear greensward; where the sun is even +then shining so brightly, and the sky is so blue, and all is so calm +and motherly and safe. She sighs for the peace of that sequestered +home; then shudders to think that she shall never see it more. Accused +of witchcraft, by her own ascetic melancholic father, she utters no +word of denial to the charge; for her heart is dark, it is tarnished +by earthly love, she dare not raise her thoughts to Heaven. Parted +from her sisters; cast out with horror by the people she had lately +saved from despair, she wanders forth, desolate, forlorn, not knowing +whither. Yet she does not sink under this sore trial: as she suffers +from without, and is forsaken of men, her mind grows clear and strong, +her confidence returns. She is now more firmly fixed in our admiration +than before; tenderness is united to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> our other feelings; and her +faith has been proved by sharp vicissitudes. Her countrymen recognise +their error; Joanna closes her career by a glorious death; we take +farewell of her in a solemn mood of heroic pity.</p> + +<p>Joanna is the animating principle of this tragedy; the scenes employed +in developing her character and feelings constitute its great charm. +Yet there are other personages in it, that leave a distinct and +pleasing impression of themselves in our memory. Agnes Sorel, the +soft, languishing, generous mistress of the Dauphin, relieves and +heightens by comparison the sterner beauty of the Maid. Dunois, the +Bastard of Orleans, the lover of Joanna, is a blunt, frank, sagacious +soldier, and well described. And Talbot, the gray veteran, delineates +his dark, unbelieving, indomitable soul, by a few slight but +expressive touches: he sternly passes down to the land, as he thinks, +of utter nothingness, contemptuous even of the fate that destroys him, +and</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'On the soil of France he sleeps, as does<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hero on the shield he would not quit.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A few scattered extracts may in part exhibit some of these inferior +personages to our readers, though they can afford us no impression of +the Maid herself. Joanna's character, like every finished piece of +art, to be judged of must be seen in all its bearings. It is not in +parts, but as a whole, that the delineation moves us; by light and +manifold touches, it works upon our hearts, till they melt before it +into that mild rapture, free alike from the violence and the +impurities of Nature, which it is the highest triumph of the Artist to +communicate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Act III. Scene IV.</span></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p class="directions">[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dauphin Charles</span>, <i>with his suite: afterwards</i> <span class="smcap">Joanna</span>. <i>She is +in armour, but without her helmet; and wears a garland in her hair.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dunois</span> [<i>steps forward</i>].<br /> +My heart made choice of her while she was lowly;<br /> +This new honour raises not her merit<br /> +Or my love. Here, in the presence of my King<br /> +And of this holy Archbishop, I offer her<br /> +My hand and princely rank, if she regard me<br /> +As worthy to be hers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Resistless Maid,</span><br /> +Thou addest miracle to miracle!<br /> +Henceforward I believe that nothing is<br /> +Impossible to thee. Thou hast subdued<br /> +This haughty spirit, that till now defied<br /> +Th' omnipotence of Love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">La Hire</span> [<i>steps forward</i>]. If I mistake not<br /> +Joanna's form of mind, what most adorns her<br /> +Is her modest heart. The rev'rence of the great<br /> +She merits; but her thoughts will never rise<br /> +So high. She strives not after giddy splendours:<br /> +The true affection of a faithful soul<br /> +Contents her, and the still, sequester'd lot<br /> +Which with this hand I offer her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">Thou too,</span><br /> +La Hire? Two valiant suitors, equal in<br /> +Heroic virtue and renown of war!<br /> +—Wilt thou, that hast united my dominions,<br /> +Soften'd my opposers, part my firmest friends?<br /> +Both may not gain thee, each deserving thee:<br /> +Speak, then! Thy heart must here be arbiter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Agnes Sorel</span> [<i>approaches</i>].<br /> +Joanna is embarrass'd and surprised;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>I see the bashful crimson tinge her cheeks.<br /> +Let her have time to ask her heart, to open<br /> +Her clos'd bosom in trustful confidence<br /> +With me. The moment is arriv'd when I<br /> +In sisterly communion also may<br /> +Approach the rigorous Maid, and offer her<br /> +The solace of my faithful, silent breast.<br /> +First let us women sit in secret judgment<br /> +On this matter that concerns us; then expect<br /> +What we shall have decided.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>about to go</i>].<span style="padding-left: 2em">Be it so, then!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> Not so, Sire! 'Twas not the embarrassment<br /> +Of virgin shame that dy'd my cheeks in crimson:<br /> +To this lady I have nothing to confide,<br /> +Which I need blush to speak of before men.<br /> +Much am I honour'd by the preference<br /> +Of these two noble Knights; but it was not<br /> +To chase vain worldly grandeurs, that I left<br /> +The shepherd moors; not in my hair to bind<br /> +The bridal garland, that I girt myself<br /> +With warlike armour. To far other work<br /> +Am I appointed: and the spotless virgin<br /> +Alone can do it. I am the soldier<br /> +Of the God of Battles; to no living man<br /> +Can I be wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Archbishop.</span> As kindly help to man<br /> +Was woman born; and in obeying Nature<br /> +She best obeys and reverences Heaven.<br /> +When the command of God who summon'd thee<br /> +To battle is fulfull'd, thou wilt lay down<br /> +Thy weapons, and return to that soft sex<br /> +Which thou deny'st, which is not call'd to do<br /> +The bloody work of war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em">Father, as yet</span><br /> +I know not how the Spirit will direct me:<br /> +When the needful time comes round, His voice<br /> +Will not be silent, and I will obey it.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>For the present, I am bid complete the task.<br /> +He gave me. My sov'reign's brow is yet uncrown'd,<br /> +His head unwetted by the holy oil,<br /> +He is not yet a King.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">We are journeying</span><br /> +Towards Rheims.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Let us not linger by the way.</span><br /> +Our foes are busy round us, shutting up<br /> +Thy passage: I will lead thee through them all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dunois.</span> And when the work shall be fulfill'd, when we<br /> +Have marched in triumph into Rheims,<br /> +Will not Joanna then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em">If God see meet</span><br /> +That I return with life and vict'ry from<br /> +These broils, my task is ended, and the herdsmaid<br /> +Has nothing more to do in her King's palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>taking her hand</i>].<br /> +It is the Spirit's voice impels thee now,<br /> +And Love is mute in thy inspired bosom.<br /> +Believe me, it will not be always mute!<br /> +Our swords will rest; and Victory will lead<br /> +Meek Peace by th' hand, and Joy will come again<br /> +To ev'ry breast, and softer feelings waken<br /> +In every heart: in thy heart also waken;<br /> +And tears of sweetest longing wilt thou weep,<br /> +Such as thine eyes have never shed. This heart,<br /> +Now fill'd by Heav'n, will softly open<br /> +To some terrestrial heart. Thou hast begun<br /> +By blessing thousands; but thou wilt conclude<br /> +By blessing one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 3em">Dauphin! Art thou weary</span><br /> +Of the heavenly vision, that thou seekest<br /> +To deface its chosen vessel, wouldst degrade<br /> +To common dust the Maid whom God has sent thee?<br /> +Ye blind of heart! O ye of little faith!<br /> +Heaven's brightness is about you, before your eyes<br /> +Unveils its wonders; and ye see in me<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>Nought but a woman. Dare a woman, think ye,<br /> +Clothe herself in iron harness, and mingle<br /> +In the wreck of battle? Woe, woe to me,<br /> +If bearing in my hand th' avenging sword<br /> +Of God, I bore in my vain heart a love<br /> +To earthly man! Woe to me! It were better<br /> +That I never had been born. No more,<br /> +No more of this! Unless ye would awake the wrath<br /> +Of <span class="smcap">Him</span> that dwells in me! The eye of man<br /> +Desiring me is an abomination<br /> +And a horror.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">Cease! 'Tis vain to urge her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> Bid the trumpets sound! This loit'ring grieves<br /> +And harasses me. Something chases me<br /> +From sloth, and drives me forth to do my mission,<br /> +Stern beck'ning me to my appointed doom.</p> +</div> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">A Knight</span> [<i>in haste</i>].</small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> How now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">The enemy has pass'd the Marne;</span><br /> +Is forming as for battle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>as if inspired</i>]. Arms and battle!<br /> +My soul has cast away its bonds! To arms!<br /> +Prepare yourselves, while I prepare the rest!<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>She hastens out</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Trumpets sound with a piercing tone, and while the scene is changing +pass into a wild tumultuous sound of battle.</i>]</p> +</div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p class="directions">[<i>The scene changes to an open space encircled with trees. During the +music, soldiers are seen hastily retreating across the background.</i>]</p> + +<p class="directions"><span class="smcap">Talbot</span>, <i>leaning upon</i> <span class="smcap">Fastolf</span>, <i>and accompanied by</i> Soldiers. <i>Soon +after</i>, <span class="smcap">Lionel</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot.</span> Here set me down beneath this tree, and you<br /> +Betake yourselves again to battle: quick!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>I need no help to die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fastolf.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">O day of woe!</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">[<i>Lionel enters.</i></span><br /> +Look, what a sight awaits you, Lionel!<br /> +Our General expiring of his wounds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> Now God forbid! Rise, noble Talbot! This<br /> +Is not a time for you to faint and sink.<br /> +Yield not to Death; force faltering Nature<br /> +By your strength of soul, that life depart not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot.</span> In vain! The day of Destiny is come<br /> +That prostrates with the dust our power in France.<br /> +In vain, in the fierce clash of desp'rate battle,<br /> +Have I risk'd our utmost to withstand it:<br /> +The bolt has smote and crush'd me, and I lie<br /> +To rise no more forever. Rheims is lost;<br /> +Make haste to rescue Paris.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">Paris has surrender'd</span><br /> +To the Dauphin: an express is just arriv'd<br /> +With tidings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot</span> [<i>tears away his bandages</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">Then flow out, ye life-streams;</span><br /> +I am grown to loathe this Sun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">They want me!</span><br /> +Fastolf, bear him to a place of safety:<br /> +We can hold this post few instants longer,<br /> +The coward knaves are giving way on all sides,<br /> +Irresistible the Witch is pressing on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot.</span> Madness, thou conquerest, and I must yield:<br /> +Stupidity can baffle the very gods.<br /> +High Reason, radiant Daughter of God's Head,<br /> +Wise Foundress of the system of the Universe,<br /> +Conductress of the stars, who art thou, then,<br /> +If, tied to th' tail o' th' wild horse Superstition,<br /> +Thou must plunge, eyes open, vainly shrieking,<br /> +Sheer down with that drunk Beast to the Abyss?<br /> +Cursed who sets his life upon the great<br /> +And dignified; and with forecasting spirit<br /> +Forms wise projects! The Fool-king rules this world.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> O, Death is near you! Think of your Creator!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot.</span> Had we as brave men been defeated<br /> +By brave men, we might have consoled ourselves<br /> +With common thoughts of Fortune's fickleness:<br /> +But that a sorry farce should be our ruin!—<br /> +Did our earnest toilsome struggle merit<br /> +No graver end than this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel</span> [<i>grasps his hand</i>]. Talbot, farewell!<br /> +The meed of bitter tears I'll duly pay you,<br /> +When the fight is done, should I outlive it.<br /> +Now Fate calls me to the field, where yet<br /> +She wav'ring sits, and shakes her doubtful urn.<br /> +Farewell! we meet beyond the unseen shore.<br /> +Brief parting for long friendship! God be with you!<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>Exit.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Talbot.</span> Soon it is over, and to th' Earth I render,<br /> +To the everlasting Sun, the atoms,<br /> +Which for pain and pleasure join'd to form me;<br /> +And of the mighty Talbot, whose renown<br /> +Once fill'd the world, remains nought but a handful<br /> +Of light dust. Thus man comes to his end;<br /> +And our one conquest in this fight of life<br /> +Is the conviction of life's nothingness,<br /> +And deep disdain of all that sorry stuff<br /> +We once thought lofty and desirable.</p> +</div> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></h3> + +<div class="drama"> + +<p class="directions"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Charles</span>; <span class="smcap">Burgundy</span>; <span class="smcap">Dunois</span>; <span class="smcap">Du Chatel</span>; <i>and</i> Soldiers.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Burgun.</span> The trench is storm'd.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dunois.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">The victory is ours.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>observing Talbot</i>].<br /> +Ha! who is this that to the light of day<br /> +Is bidding his constrained and sad farewell?<br /> +His bearing speaks no common man: go, haste,<br /> +Assist him, if assistance yet avail.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Soldiers from the Dauphin's suite step forward.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fastolf.</span> Back! Keep away! Approach not the Departing,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>Whom in life ye never wish'd too near you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Burgun.</span> What do I see? Lord Talbot in his blood!</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>He goes towards him. Talbot gazes fixedly at him, and dies.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fastolf.</span> Off, Burgundy! With th' aspect of a traitor<br /> +Poison not the last look of a hero.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dunois.</span> Dreaded Talbot! stern, unconquerable!<br /> +Dost thou content thee with a space so narrow,<br /> +And the wide domains of France once could not<br /> +Stay the striving of thy giant spirit?—<br /> +Now for the first time, Sire, I call you King:<br /> +The crown but totter'd on your head, so long<br /> +As in this body dwelt a soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>after looking at the dead in silence</i>]. It was<br /> +A higher hand that conquer'd him, not we.<br /> +Here on the soil of France he sleeps, as does<br /> +A hero on the shield he would not quit.<br /> +Bring him away.<span style="padding-left: 4em">[<i>Soldiers lift the corpse, and carry it off.</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">And peace be with his dust!</span><br /> +A fair memorial shall arise to him<br /> +I' th' midst of France: here, where the hero's course<br /> +And life were finished, let his bones repose.<br /> +Thus far no other foe has e'er advanced.<br /> +His epitaph shall be the place he fell on.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> +</div> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene IX.</span></h3> + +<div class="drama"> + +<p class="directions"><i>Another empty space in the field of battle. In the distance are seen +the towers of Rheims illuminated by the sun.</i></p> + +<p class="directions"><i>A Knight, cased in black armour, with his visor shut.</i> <span class="smcap">Joanna</span> +<i>follows him to the front of the scene, where he stops and awaits +her.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> Deceiver! Now I see thy craft. Thou hast,<br /> +By seeming flight, enticed me from the battle,<br /> +And warded death and destiny from off the head<br /> +Of many a Briton. Now they reach thy own.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span> Why dost thou follow me, and track my stops<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>With murd'rous fury? I am not appointed<br /> +To die by thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 3em">Deep in my lowest soul</span><br /> +I hate thee as the Night, which is thy colour.<br /> +To sweep thee from the face of Earth, I feel<br /> +Some irresistible desire impelling me.<br /> +Who art thou? Lift thy visor: had not I<br /> +Seen Talbot fall, I should have named thee Talbot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span> Speaks not the prophesying Spirit in thee?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> It tells me loudly, in my inmost bosom,<br /> +That Misfortune is at hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Joanna d'Arc!</span><br /> +Up to the gates of Rheims hast thou advanced,<br /> +Led on by victory. Let the renown<br /> +Already gain'd suffice thee! As a slave<br /> +Has Fortune serv'd thee: emancipate her,<br /> +Ere in wrath she free herself; fidelity<br /> +She hates; no one obeys she to the end.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> How say'st thou, in the middle of my course,<br /> +That I should pause and leave my work unfinish'd?<br /> +I will conclude it, and fulfil my vow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span> Nothing can withstand thee; thou art most strong;<br /> +In ev'ry battle thou prevailest. But go<br /> +Into no other battle. Hear my warning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> This sword I quit not, till the English yield.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight.</span> Look! Yonder rise the towers of Rheims, the goal<br /> +And purpose of thy march; thou seest the dome<br /> +Of the cathedral glittering in the sun:<br /> +There wouldst thou enter in triumphal pomp,<br /> +To crown thy sov'reign and fulfil thy vow.<br /> +Enter not there. Turn homewards. Hear my warning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> Who art thou, false, double-tongued betrayer,<br /> +That wouldst frighten and perplex me? Dar'st thou<br /> +Utter lying oracles to me?</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The Black Knight attempts to go; she steps in his way.</i></p> + +<p><span style="padding-left: 12em">No!</span><br /> +Thou shalt answer me, or perish by me!<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 14em">[<i>She lifts her arm to strike him.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knight</span> [<i>touches her with his hand: she stands immovable</i>].<br /> +Kill what is mortal!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Darkness, lightning and thunder. The Knight sinks.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>stands at first amazed: but soon recovers herself</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 9em">It was nothing earthly.</span><br /> +Some delusive form of Hell, some spirit<br /> +Of Falsehood, sent from th' everlasting Pool<br /> +To tempt and terrify my fervent soul!<br /> +Bearing the sword of God, what do I fear?<br /> +Victorious will I end my fated course;<br /> +Though Hell itself with all its fiends assail me,<br /> +My heart and faith shall never faint or fail me.<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>She is going.</i></span></p> +</div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene X.</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Lionel, Joanna.</span></small></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> Accursed Sorceress, prepare for battle:<br /> +Not both of us shall leave the place alive.<br /> +Thou hast destroyed the chosen of my host;<br /> +Brave Talbot has breath'd out his mighty spirit<br /> +In my bosom. I will avenge the Dead,<br /> +Or share his fate. And wouldst thou know the man<br /> +Who brings thee glory, let him die or conquer,<br /> +I am Lionel, the last survivor<br /> +Of our chiefs; and still unvanquish'd is this arm.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>He rushes towards her; after a short contest, she strikes the sword +from his hand.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Faithless fortune!<span style="padding-left: 12em">[<i>He struggles with her.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>seizes him by the plume from behind, and tears his helmet</i><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>violently down, so that his face is exposed: at</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>the same time she lifts her sword with the right</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>hand</i>].</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 10em">Suffer what thou soughtest!</span><br /> +The Virgin sacrifices thee through me!</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>At this moment she looks in his face; his aspect touches her; she +stands immovable, and then slowly drops her arm.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> Why lingerest thou, and stayest the stroke of death?<br /> +My honour thou hast taken, take my life:<br /> +'Tis in thy hands to take it; I want not mercy.<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 8em">[<i>She gives him a sign with her hand to depart.</i></span><br /> +Fly from <i>thee</i>? Owe <i>thee</i> my life? Die rather!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>her face turned away</i>].<br /> +I will not remember that thou owedst<br /> +Thy life to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">I hate thee and thy gift.</span><br /> +I want not mercy. Kill thy enemy,<br /> +Who meant to kill thee, who abhors thee!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> Kill me, and fly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em">Ha! How is this?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>hides her face</i>].<span style="padding-left: 7em">Woe's me!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel</span> [<i>approaches her</i>].<br /> +Thou killest every Briton, I have heard,<br /> +Whom thou subdu'st in battle: why spare me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>lifts her sword with a rapid movement against him,</i><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>but quickly lets it sink again, when she observes his</i></span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em"><i>face</i>].</span><span style="padding-left: 2em"> O Holy Virgin!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Wherefore namest thou</span><br /> +The Virgin? <i>She</i> knows nothing of thee; Heaven<br /> +Has nought to say to thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>in violent anguish</i>]. What have I done!<br /> +My vow, my vow is broke!<span style="padding-left: 4em">[<i>Wrings her hands in despair.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel</span> [<i>looks at her with sympathy, and comes nearer</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 14em">Unhappy girl!</span><br /> +I pity thee; thou touchest me; thou showedst<br /> +Mercy to me alone. My hate is going:<br /> +I am constrain'd to feel for thee. Who art thou?<br /> +Whence comest thou?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Away! Begone!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Thy youth,</span><br /> +Thy beauty melt and sadden me; thy look<br /> +Goes to my heart: I could wish much to save thee;<br /> +Tell me how I may! Come, come with me! Forsake<br /> +This horrid business; cast away those arms!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> I no more deserve to bear them!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 14em">Cast them</span><br /> +Away, then, and come with me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna</span> [<i>with horror</i>].<span style="padding-left: 4em">Come with thee!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> Thou mayst be sav'd: come with me! I will save thee.<br /> +But delay not. A strange sorrow for thee<br /> +Seizes me, and an unspeakable desire<br /> +To save thee.<span style="padding-left: 14em">[<i>Seizes her arm.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">Ha! Dunois! 'Tis they!</span><br /> +If they should find thee!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">Fear not; I will guard thee.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span> I should die, were they to kill thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Am I</span><br /> +Dear to thee?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">Saints of Heaven!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">Shall I ever</span><br /> +See thee, hear of thee, again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Never! Never!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> This sword for pledge that I will see thee!<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 14em">[<i>He wrests the sword from her.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joanna.</span><span style="padding-left: 15em">Madman!</span><br /> +Thou dar'st?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lionel.</span> I yield to force; again I'll see thee.<span style="padding-left: 6em">[<i>Exit.</i></span></p> +</div> + +<p>The introduction of supernatural agency in this play, and the final +aberration from the truth of history, have been considerably censured +by the German critics: Schlegel, we recollect, calls Joanna's end a +'rosy death.' In this dramaturgic discussion, the mere reader need +take no great interest. To require our belief in apparitions and +miracles, things which we cannot now believe, no doubt for a moment +disturbs our submission to the poet's illusions: but the miracles in +this story are rare and transient, and of small account in the general +result: they give our reason little trouble, and perhaps contribute to +exalt the heroine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> in our imaginations. It is still the mere human +grandeur of Joanna's spirit that we love and reverence; the lofty +devotedness with which she is transported, the generous benevolence, +the irresistible determination. The heavenly mandate is but the means +of unfolding these qualities, and furnishing them with a proper +passport to the minds of her age. To have produced, without the aid of +fictions like these, a Joanna so beautified and exalted, would +undoubtedly have yielded greater satisfaction: but it may be +questioned whether the difficulty would not have increased in a still +higher ratio. The sentiments, the characters, are not only accurate, +but exquisitely beautiful; the incidents, excepting the very last, are +possible, or even probable: what remains is but a very slender evil.</p> + +<p>After all objections have been urged, and this among others has +certainly a little weight, the <i>Maid of Orleans</i> will remain one of +the very finest of modern dramas. Perhaps, among all Schiller's plays, +it is the one which evinces most of that quality denominated <i>genius</i> +in the strictest meaning of the word. <i>Wallenstein</i> embodies more +thought, more knowledge, more conception; but it is only in parts +illuminated by that ethereal brightness, which shines over every part +of this. The spirit of the romantic ages is here imaged forth; but the +whole is exalted, embellished, ennobled. It is what the critics call +idealised. The heart must be cold, the imagination dull, which the +<i>Jungfrau von Orleans</i> will not move.</p> + +<p>In Germany this case did not occur: the reception of the work was +beyond example flattering. The leading idea suited the German mind; +the execution of it inflamed the hearts and imaginations of the +people; they felt proud of their great poet, and delighted to +enthusiasm with his poetry. At the first exhibition of the play in +Leipzig,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> Schiller being in the theatre, though not among the +audience, this feeling was displayed in a rather singular manner. When +the curtain dropped at the end of the first act, there arose on all +sides a shout of "<i>Es lebe Friedrich Schiller!</i>" accompanied by the +sound of trumpets and other military music: at the conclusion of the +piece, the whole assembly left their places, went out, and crowded +round the door through which the poet was expected to come; and no +sooner did he show himself, than his admiring spectators, uncovering +their heads, made an avenue for him to pass; and as he waited along, +many, we are told, held up their children, and exclaimed, "<i>That is +he!</i>"<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></p> + +<p>This must have been a proud moment for Schiller; but also an +agitating, painful one; and perhaps on the whole, the latter feeling, +for the time, prevailed. Such noisy, formal, and tumultuous plaudits +were little to his taste: the triumph they confer, though plentiful, +is coarse; and Schiller's modest nature made him shun the public gaze, +not seek it. He loved men, and did not affect to despise their +approbation; but neither did this form his leading motive. To him art, +like virtue, was its own reward; he delighted in his tasks for the +sake of the fascinating feelings which they yielded him in their +performance. Poetry was the chosen gift of his mind, which his +pleasure lay in cultivating: in other things he wished not that his +habits or enjoyments should be different from those of other men.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + +<p>At Weimar his present way of life was like his former one at Jena: his +business was to study and compose; his recreations were in the circle +of his family, where he could abandon himself to affections, grave or +trifling, and in frank and cheerful intercourse with a few friends. Of +the latter he had lately formed a social club, the meetings of which +afforded him a regular and innocent amusement. He still loved solitary +walks: in the Park at Weimar he might frequently be seen wandering +among the groves and remote avenues, with a note-book in his hand; now +loitering slowly along, now standing still, now moving rapidly on; if +any one appeared in sight, he would dart into another alley, that his +dream might not be broken.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> 'One of his favourite resorts,' we are +told, 'was the thickly-overshadowed rocky path which leads to the +<i>Römische Haus</i>, a pleasure-house of the Duke's, built under the +direction of Goethe. There he would often sit in the gloom of the +crags, overgrown with cypresses and boxwood; shady hedges before him; +not far from the murmur of a little brook, which there gushes in a +smooth slaty channel, and where some verses of Goethe are cut upon a +brown plate of stone, and fixed in the rock.' He still continued to +study in the night: the morning was spent with his children and his +wife, or in pastimes such as we have noticed; in the afternoon he +revised what had been last composed, wrote letters, or visited his +friends. His evenings were often passed in the theatre; it was the +only public place of amusement which he ever visited; nor was it for +the purpose of amusement that he visited this: it was his observatory, +where he watched the effect of scenes and situations;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> devised new +schemes of art, or corrected old ones. To the players he was kind, +friendly: on nights when any of his pieces had been acted successfully +or for the first time, he used to invite the leaders of the company to +a supper in the Stadthaus, where the time was spent in mirthful +diversions, one of which was frequently a recitation, by Genast, of +the Capuchin's sermon in <i>Wallenstein's Camp</i>. Except on such rare +occasions, he returned home directly from the theatre, to light his +midnight lamp, and commence the most earnest of his labours.</p> + +<p>The assiduity, with which he struggled for improvement in dramatic +composition, had now produced its natural result: the requisitions of +his taste no longer hindered the operation of his genius; art had at +length become a second nature. A new proof at once of his fertility, +and of his solicitude for farther improvement, appeared in 1803. The +<i>Braut von Messina</i> was an experiment; an attempt to exhibit a modern +subject and modern sentiments in an antique garb. The principle on +which the interest of this play rests is the Fatalism of the ancients: +the plot is of extreme simplicity; a Chorus also is introduced, an +elaborate discussion of the nature and uses of that accompaniment +being prefixed by way of preface. The experiment was not successful: +with a multitude of individual beauties this <i>Bride of Messina</i> is +found to be ineffectual as a whole: it does not move us; the great +object of every tragedy is not attained. The Chorus, which Schiller, +swerving from the Greek models, has divided into two contending parts, +and made to enter and depart with the principals to whom they are +attached, has in his hands become the medium of conveying many +beautiful effusions of poetry; but it retards the progress of the +plot; it dissipates and diffuses our sympathies; the interest we +should take in the fate and prospects of Manuel and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> Cæsar, is +expended on the fate and prospects of man. For beautiful and touching +delineations of life; for pensive and pathetic reflections, +sentiments, and images, conveyed in language simple but nervous and +emphatic, this tragedy stands high in the rank of modern compositions. +There is in it a breath of young tenderness and ardour, mingled +impressively with the feelings of gray-haired experience, whose +recollections are darkened with melancholy, whose very hopes are +chequered and solemn. The implacable Destiny which consigns the +brothers to mutual enmity and mutual destruction, for the guilt of a +past generation, involving a Mother and a Sister in their ruin, +spreads a sombre hue over all the poem; we are not unmoved by the +characters of the hostile Brothers, and we pity the hapless and +amiable Beatrice, the victim of their feud. Still there is too little +action in the play; the incidents are too abundantly diluted with +reflection; the interest pauses, flags, and fails to produce its full +effect. For its specimens of lyrical poetry, tender, affecting, +sometimes exquisitely beautiful, the <i>Bride of Messina</i> will long +deserve a careful perusal; but as exemplifying a new form of the +drama, it has found no imitators, and is likely to find none.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">The slight degree of failure or miscalculation which occurred in the +present instance, was next year abundantly redeemed. <i>Wilhelm Tell</i>, +sent out in 1804, is one of Schiller's very finest dramas; it exhibits +some of the highest triumphs which his genius, combined with his art, +ever realised. The first descent of Freedom to our modern world, the +first unfurling of her standard on the rocky pinnacle of Europe, is +here celebrated in the style which it deserved. There is no false +timsel-decoration about <i>Tell</i>, no sickly refinement, no declamatory +sentimentality. All is downright, simple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> and agreeable to Nature; +yet all is adorned and purified and rendered beautiful, without losing +its resemblance. An air of freshness and wholesomeness breathes over +it; we are among honest, inoffensive, yet fearless peasants, untainted +by the vices, undazzled by the theories, of more complex and perverted +conditions of society. The opening of the first scene sets us down +among the Alps. It is 'a high rocky shore of the Luzern Lake, opposite +to Schwytz. The lake makes a little bight in the land, a hut stands at +a short distance from the bank, the fisher-boy is rowing himself about +in his boat. Beyond the lake, on the other side, we see the green +meadows, the hamlets and farms of Schwytz, lying in the clear +sunshine. On our left are observed the peaks of the Hacken surrounded +with clouds: to the right, and far in the distance, appear the +glaciers. We hear the <i>rance des vaches</i> and the tinkling of +cattle-bells.' This first impression never leaves us; we are in a +scene where all is grand and lovely; but it is the loveliness and +grandeur of unpretending, unadulterated Nature. These Switzers are not +Arcadian shepherds or speculative patriots; there is not one crook or +beechen bowl among them, and they never mention the Social Contract, +or the Rights of Man. They are honest people, driven by oppression to +assert their privileges; and they go to work like men in earnest, bent +on the despatch of business, not on the display of sentiment. They are +not philosophers or tribunes; but frank, stalwart landmen: even in the +field of Rütli, they do not forget their common feelings; the party +that arrive first indulge in a harmless little ebullition of parish +vanity: "<i>We</i> are first here!" they say, "we Unterwaldeners!" They +have not charters or written laws to which they can appeal; but they +have the traditionary rights of their fathers, and bold hearts and +strong arms to make them good. The rules by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> which they steer are not +deduced from remote premises, by a fine process of thought; they are +the accumulated result of experience, transmitted from peasant sire to +peasant son. There is something singularly pleasing in this exhibition +of genuine humanity; of wisdom, embodied in old adages and practical +maxims of prudence; of magnanimity, displayed in the quiet +unpretending discharge of the humblest every-day duties. Truth is +superior to Fiction: we feel at home among these brave good people; +their fortune interests us more than that of all the brawling, vapid, +sentimental heroes in creation. Yet to make them interest us was the +very highest problem of art; it was to copy lowly Nature, to give us a +copy of it embellished and refined by the agency of genius, yet +preserving the likeness in every lineament. The highest quality of art +is to conceal itself: these peasants of Schiller's are what every one +imagines he could imitate successfully; yet in the hands of any but a +true and strong-minded poet they dwindle into repulsive coarseness or +mawkish insipidity. Among our own writers, who have tried such +subjects, we remember none that has succeeded equally with Schiller. +One potent but ill-fated genius has, in far different circumstances +and with far other means, shown that he could have equalled him: the +<i>Cotter's Saturday Night</i> of Burns is, in its own humble way, as +quietly beautiful, as <i>simplex munditiis</i>, as the scenes of <i>Tell</i>. No +other has even approached them; though some gifted persons have +attempted it. Mr. Wordsworth is no ordinary man; nor are his pedlars, +and leech-gatherers, and dalesmen, without their attractions and their +moral; but they sink into whining drivellers beside <i>Rösselmann the +Priest</i>, <i>Ulric the Smith</i>, <i>Hans of the Wall</i>, and the other sturdy +confederates of Rütli.</p> + +<p>The skill with which the events are concatenated in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> this play +corresponds to the truth of its delineation of character. The +incidents of the Swiss Revolution, as detailed in Tschudi or Müller, +are here faithfully preserved, even to their minutest branches. The +beauty of Schiller's descriptions all can relish; their fidelity is +what surprises every reader who has been in Switzerland. Schiller +never saw the scene of his play; but his diligence, his quickness and +intensity of conception, supplied this defect. Mountain and +mountaineer, conspiracy and action, are all brought before us in their +true forms, all glowing in the mild sunshine of the poet's fancy. The +tyranny of Gessler, and the misery to which it has reduced the land; +the exasperation, yet patient courage of the people; their characters, +and those of their leaders, Fürst, Stauffacher, and Melchthal; their +exertions and ultimate success, described as they are here, keep up a +constant interest in the piece. It abounds in action, as much as the +<i>Bride of Messina</i> is defective in that point.</p> + +<p>But the finest delineation is undoubtedly the character of Wilhelm +Tell, the hero of the Swiss Revolt, and of the present drama. In Tell +are combined all the attributes of a great man, without the help of +education or of great occasions to develop them. His knowledge has +been gathered chiefly from his own experience, and this is bounded by +his native mountains: he has had no lessons or examples of splendid +virtue, no wish or opportunity to earn renown: he has grown up to +manhood, a simple yeoman of the Alps, among simple yeomen; and has +never aimed at being more. Yet we trace in him a deep, reflective, +earnest spirit, thirsting for activity, yet bound in by the wholesome +dictates of prudence; a heart benevolent, generous, unconscious alike +of boasting or of fear. It is this salubrious air of rustic, +unpretending honesty that forms the great beauty in Tell's character: +all is native, all is genuine; he does not de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>claim: he dislikes to +talk of noble conduct, he exhibits it. He speaks little of his +freedom, because he has always enjoyed it, and feels that he can +always defend it. His reasons for destroying Gessler are not drawn +from jurisconsults and writers on morality, but from the everlasting +instincts of Nature: the Austrian Vogt must die; because if not, the +wife and children of Tell will be destroyed by him. The scene, where +the peaceful but indomitable archer sits waiting for Gessler in the +hollow way among the rocks of Küssnacht, presents him in a striking +light. Former scenes had shown us Tell under many amiable and +attractive aspects; we knew that he was tender as well as brave, that +he loved to haunt the mountain tops, and inhale in silent dreams the +influence of their wild and magnificent beauty: we had seen him the +most manly and warm-hearted of fathers and husbands; intrepid, modest, +and decisive in the midst of peril, and venturing his life to bring +help to the oppressed. But here his mind is exalted into stern +solemnity; its principles of action come before us with greater +clearness, in this its fiery contest. The name of murder strikes a +damp across his frank and fearless spirit; while the recollection of +his children and their mother proclaims emphatically that there is no +remedy. Gessler must perish: Tell swore it darkly in his secret soul, +when the monster forced him to aim at the head of his boy; and he will +keep his oath. His thoughts wander to and fro, but his volition is +unalterable; the free and peaceful mountaineer is to become a shedder +of blood: woe to them that have made him so!</p> + +<p>Travellers come along the pass; the unconcern of their every-day +existence is strikingly contrasted with the dark and fateful purposes +of Tell. The shallow innocent garrulity of Stüssi the Forester, the +maternal vehemence of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> Armgart's Wife, the hard-hearted haughtiness of +Gessler, successively presented to us, give an air of truth to the +delineation, and deepen the impressiveness of the result.</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Act IV. Scene III.</span></h3> + +<div class="drama"> +<p class="directions"><i>The hollow way at Küssnacht. You descend from behind amid rocks; and +travellers, before appearing on the scene, are seen from the height +above. Rocks encircle the whole space; on one of the foremost is a +projecting crag overgrown with brushwood.</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="padding-left: 4em"><span class="smcap">Tell</span> [<i>enters with his bow</i>].</span><br /> + +Here through the hollow way he'll pass; there is<br /> +No other road to Küssnacht: here I'll do it!<br /> +The opportunity is good; the bushes<br /> +Of alder there will hide me; from that point<br /> +My arrow hits him; the strait pass prevents<br /> +Pursuit. Now, Gessler, balance thy account<br /> +With Heaven! Thou must be gone: thy sand is run.</p> + +<p>Remote and harmless I have liv'd; my bow<br /> +Ne'er bent save on the wild beast of the forest;<br /> +My thoughts were free of murder. Thou hast scar'd me<br /> +From my peace; to fell asp-poison hast thou<br /> +Changed the milk of kindly temper in me;<br /> +Thou hast accustom'd me to horrors. Gessler!<br /> +The archer who could aim at his boy's head<br /> +Can send an arrow to his enemy's heart.</p> + +<p>Poor little boys! My kind true wife! I will<br /> +Protect them from thee, Landvogt! When I drew<br /> +That bowstring, and my hand was quiv'ring,<br /> +And with devilish joy thou mad'st me point it<br /> +At the child, and I in fainting anguish<br /> +Entreated thee in vain; then with a grim<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>Irrevocable oath, deep in my soul,<br /> +I vow'd to God in Heav'n, that the <i>next</i> aim<br /> +I took should be thy heart. The vow I made<br /> +In that despairing moment's agony<br /> +Became a holy debt; and I will pay it.</p> + +<p>Thou art my master, and my Kaiser's Vogt;<br /> +Yet would the Kaiser not have suffer'd thee<br /> +To do as thou hast done. He sent thee hither<br /> +To judge us; rigorously, for he is angry;<br /> +But not to glut thy savage appetite<br /> +With murder, and thyself be safe, among us:<br /> +There is a God to punish them that wrong us.</p> + +<p>Come forth, thou bringer once of bitter sorrow,<br /> +My precious jewel now, my trusty yew!<br /> +A mark I'll set thee, which the cry of woe<br /> +Could never penetrate: to <i>thee</i> it shall not<br /> +Be impenetrable. And, good bowstring!<br /> +Which so oft in sport hast serv'd me truly,<br /> +Forsake me not in this last awful earnest;<br /> +Yet once hold fast, thou faithful cord; thou oft<br /> +For me hast wing'd the biting arrow;<br /> +Now send it sure and piercing, now or never!<br /> +Fail this, there is no second in my quiver.<br /> + +<span style="padding-left: 14em">[<i>Travellers cross the scene.</i></span></p> + +<p>Here let me sit on this stone bench, set up<br /> +For brief rest to the wayfarer; for here<br /> +There is no home. Each pushes on quick, transient,<br /> +Regarding not the other or his sorrows.<br /> +Here goes the anxious merchant, and the light<br /> +Unmoneyed pilgrim; the pale pious monk,<br /> +The gloomy robber, and the mirthful showman;<br /> +The carrier with his heavy-laden horse,<br /> +Who comes from far-off lands; for every road<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span><br /> +Will lead one to the end o' th' World.<br /> +They pass; each hastening forward on his path,<br /> +Pursuing his own business: mine is death!<span style="padding-left: 3em">[<i>Sits down.</i></span></p> + +<p>Erewhile, my children, were your father out,<br /> +There was a merriment at his return;<br /> +For still, on coming home, he brought you somewhat,<br /> +Might be an Alpine flower, rare bird, or elf-bolt,<br /> +Such as the wand'rer finds upon the mountains:<br /> +Now he is gone in quest of other spoil<br /> +On the wild way he sits with thoughts of murder:<br /> +'Tis for his enemy's life he lies in wait<br /> +And yet on you, dear children, you alone<br /> +He thinks as then: for your sake is he here;<br /> +To guard you from the Tyrant's vengeful mood,<br /> +He bends his peaceful bow for work of blood.<span style="padding-left: 3em">[<i>Rises.</i></span></p> + +<p>No common game I watch for. Does the hunter<br /> +Think it nought to roam the livelong day,<br /> +In winter's cold; to risk the desp'rate leap<br /> +From crag to crag, to climb the slipp'ry face<br /> +O' th' dizzy steep, glueing his steps in's blood;<br /> +And all to catch a pitiful chamois?<br /> +Here is a richer prize afield: the heart<br /> +Of my sworn enemy, that would destroy me.<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>A sound of gay music is heard in the distance; it approaches.</i></span></p> + +<p>All my days, the bow has been my comrade,<br /> +I have trained myself to archery; oft<br /> +Have I took the bull's-eye, many a prize<br /> +Brought home from merry shooting; but today<br /> +I will perform my master-feat, and win me<br /> +The best prize in the circuit of the hills.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>A wedding company crosses the scene, and mounts up through the Pass. +Tell looks at them, leaning on his bow; Stüssi the Forester joins +him.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> 'Tis Klostermey'r of Morlischachen holds<br /> +His bridal feast today: a wealthy man;<br /> +Has half a score of glens i' th' Alps. They're going<br /> +To fetch the bride from Imisee; tonight<br /> +There will be mirth and wassail down at Küssnacht.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>Come you! All honest people are invited.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span> A serious guest befits not bridal feasts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> If sorrow press you, dash it from your heart!<br /> +Seize what you can: the times are hard; one needs<br /> +To snatch enjoyment nimbly while it passes.<br /> +Here 'tis a bridal, there 'twill be a burial.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span> And oftentimes the one leads to the other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> The way o' th' world at present! There is nought<br /> +But mischief everywhere: an avalanche<br /> +Has come away in Glarus; and, they tell me,<br /> +A side o' th' Glarnish has sunk under ground.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span> Do, then, the very hills give way! On earth<br /> +Is nothing that endures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">In foreign parts, too,</span><br /> +Are strange wonders. I was speaking with a man<br /> +From Baden: a Knight, it seems, was riding<br /> +To the King; a swarm of hornets met him<br /> +By the way, and fell on's horse, and stung it<br /> +Till it dropt down dead of very torment,<br /> +And the poor Knight was forced to go afoot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span> Weak creatures too have stings.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Armgart's Wife enters with several children, and places herself at +the entrance of the Pass.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 14em">'Tis thought to bode</span><br /> +Some great misfortune to the land; some black<br /> +Unnatural action.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Ev'ry day such actions</span><br /> +Occur in plenty: needs no sign or wonder<br /> +To foreshow them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 3em">Ay, truly! Well for him</span><br /> +That tills his field in peace, and undisturb'd<br /> +Sits by his own fireside!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">The peacefulest</span><br /> +Dwells not in peace, if wicked neighbours hinder.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Tell looks often, with restless expectation, towards the top of the +Pass.</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> Too true.—Good b'ye!—You're waiting here for some one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell.</span> That am I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Glad meeting with your friends!</span><br /> +You are from Uri? His Grace the Landvogt<br /> +Is expected thence today.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Traveller</span> [<i>enters</i>]. Expect not<br /> +The Landvogt now. The waters, from the rain,<br /> +Are flooded, and have swept down all the bridges.<span style="padding-left: 2em">[<i>Tell stands up.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart</span> [<i>coming forward</i>].<br /> +The Vogt not come!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em">Did you want aught with him?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> Ah! yes, indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">Why have you placed yourself</span><br /> +In this strait pass to meet him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">In the pass</span><br /> +He cannot turn aside from me, must hear me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Friesshardt</span> [<i>comes hastily down the Pass, and calls into the Scene</i>].<br /> +Make way! make way! My lord the Landvogt<br /> +Is riding close at hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">The Landvogt coming!</span></p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>She goes with her children to the front of the Scene. Gessler and +Rudolph der Harras appear on horseback at the top of the Pass.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi</span> [<i>to Friesshardt</i>].<br /> +How got you through the water, when the flood<br /> +Had carried down the bridges?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Friess.</span><span style="padding-left: 9em">We have battled</span><br /> +With the billows, friend; we heed no Alp-flood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> Were you o' board i' th' storm?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Friess.</span><span style="padding-left: 14em">That were we;</span><br /> +While I live, I shall remember 't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">Stay, stay!</span><br /> +O, tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Friess.</span> Cannot; must run on t' announce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span><br /> +His lordship in the Castle. <span style="padding-left: 12em">[<i>Exit.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Had these fellows</span><br /> +I' th' boat been honest people, 't would have sunk<br /> +With ev'ry soul of them. But for such rakehells,<br /> +Neither fire nor flood will kill them. [<i>He looks round.</i>] Whither<br /> +Went the Mountain-man was talking with me?<span style="padding-left: 4em">[<i>Exit.</i></span></p> + +<p class="directions"><span class="smcap">Gessler</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Rudolph der Harras</span> <i>on horseback</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> Say what you like, I am the Kaiser's servant,<br /> +And must think of pleasing him. He sent me<br /> +Not to caress these hinds, to soothe or nurse them:<br /> +Obedience is the word! The point at issue is<br /> +Shall Boor or Kaiser here be lord o' th' land.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> Now is the moment! Now for my petition!<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 18em">[<i>Approaches timidly.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> This Hat at Aldorf, mark you, I set up<br /> +Not for the joke's sake, or to try the hearts<br /> +O' th' people; these I know of old: but that<br /> +They might be taught to bend their necks to me,<br /> +Which are too straight and stiff: and in the way<br /> +Where they are hourly passing, I have planted<br /> +This offence, that so their eyes may fall on't,<br /> +And remind them of their lord, whom they forget.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> But yet the people have some rights—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span><span style="padding-left: 14em">Which now</span><br /> +Is not a time for settling or admitting.<br /> +Mighty things are on the anvil. The house<br /> +Of Hapsburg must wax powerful; what the Father<br /> +Gloriously began, the Son must forward:<br /> +This people is a stone of stumbling, which<br /> +One way or t'other must be put aside.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>They are about to pass along. The Woman throws herself before the +Landvogt.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> Mercy, gracious Landvogt! Justice! Justice!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> Why do you plague me here, and stop my way,<br /> +I' th' open road? Off! Let me pass!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">My husband</span><br /> +Is in prison; these orphans cry for bread.<br /> +Have pity, good your Grace, have pity on us!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> Who or what are you, then? Who is your husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> A poor wild-hay-man of the Rigiberg,<br /> +Whose trade is, on the brow of the abyss,<br /> +To mow the common grass from craggy shelves<br /> +And nooks to which the cattle dare not climb.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph</span> [<i>to Gessler</i>]. By Heaven, a wild and miserable life!<br /> +Do now! do let the poor drudge free, I pray you!<br /> +Whatever be his crime, that horrid trade<br /> +Is punishment enough.<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">[<i>To the Woman</i>] You shall have justice:</span><br /> +In the Castle there, make your petition;<br /> +This is not the place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">No, no! I stir not</span><br /> +From the spot till you give up my husband!<br /> +'Tis the sixth month he has lain i' th' dungeon,<br /> +Waiting for the sentence of some judge, in vain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> Woman! Wouldst' lay hands on me? Begone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> Justice, Landvogt! thou art judge o' th' land here,<br /> +I' th' Kaiser's stead and God's. Perform thy duty!<br /> +As thou expectest justice from above,<br /> +Show it to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> Off! Take the mutinous rabble<br /> +From my sight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart</span> [<i>catches the bridle of the horse</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">No, no! I now have nothing</span><br /> +More to lose. Thou shalt not move a step, Vogt,<br /> +Till thou hast done me right. Ay, knit thy brows,<br /> +And roll thy eyes as sternly as thou wilt;<br /> +We are so wretched, wretched now, we care not<br /> +Aught more for thy anger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Woman, make way!</span><br /> +Or else my horse shall crush thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em">Let it! there—</span></p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>She pulls her children to the ground, and throws herself along with +them in his way.</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Here am I with my children: let the orphans<br /> +Be trodden underneath thy horse's hoofs!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>'Tis not the worst that thou hast done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> Woman! Art' mad?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart</span> [<i>with still greater violence</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 10em">'Tis long that thou hast trodden.</span><br /> +The Kaiser's people under foot. Too long!<br /> +O, I am but a woman; were I a man,<br /> +I should find something else to do than lie<br /> +Here crying in the dust.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The music of the Wedding is heard again, at the top of the Pass, but +softened by distance.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em">Where are my servants?</span><br /> +Quick! Take her hence! I may forget myself,<br /> +And do the thing I shall repent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span><span style="padding-left: 8em">My lord,</span><br /> +The servants cannot pass; the place above<br /> +Is crowded by a bridal company.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> I've been too mild a ruler to this people;<br /> +They are not tamed as they should be; their tongues<br /> +Are still at liberty. This shall be alter'd!<br /> +I will break that stubborn humour; Freedom<br /> +With its pert vauntings shall no more be heard of:<br /> +I will enforce a new law in these lands;<br /> +There shall not—</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>An arrow pierces him; he claps his hand upon his heart, and is about +to sink. With a faint voice</i></p> + +<p><span style="padding-left: 6em">God be merciful to me!</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> Herr Landvogt—God! What is it? Whence came it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart</span> [<i>springing up</i>].<br /> +Dead! dead! He totters, sinks! 'T has hit him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph</span> [<i>springs from his horse</i>].<br /> +Horrible!—O God of Heaven!—Herr Ritter,<br /> +Cry to God for mercy! You are dying.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gessler.</span> 'Tis Tell's arrow.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Has slid down from his horse into Rudolph's arms, who sets him on +the stone bench.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tell</span> [<i>appears above, on the point of the rock</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 12em">Thou hast found the archer;</span><br /> +Seek no other. Free are the cottages,<br /> +Secure is innocence from thee; thou wilt<br /> +Torment the land no more.<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 6em">[<i>Disappears from the height. The people rush in.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi</span> [<i>foremost</i>].<span style="padding-left: 2em">What? What has happen'd?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> The Landvogt shot, kill'd by an arrow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">People</span> [<i>rushing in</i>].<span style="padding-left: 12em">Who?</span><br /> +Who is shot?</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Whilst the foremost of the wedding company enter on the Scene, the +hindmost are still on the height, and the music continues</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> He's bleeding, bleeding to death.<br /> +Away! Seek help; pursue the murderer!<br /> +Lost man! Must it so end with thee? Thou wouldst not<br /> +Hear my warning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em">Sure enough! There lies he</span><br /> +Pale and going fast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Many Voices.</span><span style="padding-left: 2em">Who was it killed him?</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> Are the people mad, that they make music<br /> +Over murder? Stop it, I say!</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The music ceases suddenly; more people come crowding round</i>.</p> + +<p><span style="padding-left: 12em">Herr Landvogt,</span><br /> +Can you not speak to me? Is there nothing<br /> +You would entrust me with?</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Gessler makes signs with his hand, and vehemently repeats them, as +they are not understood</i>.</p> + +<p><span style="padding-left: 10em">Where shall I run?</span><br /> +To Küssnacht! I cannot understand you:<br /> +O, grow not angry! Leave the things of Earth,<br /> +And think how you shall make your peace with Heaven!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>The whole bridal company surround the dying man with an expression +of unsympathising horror</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> Look there! How pale he grows! Now! Death is coming<br /> +Round his heart: his eyes grow dim and fixed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart</span> [<i>lifts up one of her children</i>].<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>See, children, how a miscreant departs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> Out on you, crazy hags! Have ye no touch<br /> +Of feeling in you, that ye feast your eyes<br /> +On such an object? Help me, lend your hands!<br /> +Will no one help to pull the tort'ring arrow<br /> +From his breast?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Women</span> [<i>start back</i>]. <i>We</i> touch him whom God has smote!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span> My curse upon you!<span style="padding-left: 8em">[<i>Draws his sword.</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi</span> [<i>lays his hand on Rudolph's arm</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 14em">Softly, my good Sir!</span><br /> +Your government is at an end. The Tyrant<br /> +Is fallen: we will endure no farther violence:<br /> +We are free.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> [<i>tumultuously</i>]. The land is free!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rudolph.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em">Ha! runs it so?</span><br /> +Are rev'rence and obedience gone already?<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 12em">[<i>To the armed Attendants, who press in.</i></span><br /> +You see the murd'rous deed that has been done.<br /> +Our help is vain, vain to pursue the murd'rer;<br /> +Other cares demand us. On! To Küssnacht!<br /> +To save the Kaiser's fortress! For at present<br /> +All bonds of order, duty, are unloosed,<br /> +No man's fidelity is to be trusted.</p> + +<p class="directions">[<i>Whilst he departs with the Attendants, appear six Fratres +Misericordiæ.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Armgart.</span> Room! Room! Here come the Friars of Mercy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stüssi.</span> The victim slain, the ravens are assembling!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fratres Misericordiæ</span> [<i>form a half-circle round the dead body, +and sing in a deep tone</i>].<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 4em">With noiseless tread death comes on man,</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 5em">No plea, no prayer delivers him;</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 4em">From midst of busy life's unfinished plan,</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 5em">With sudden hand, it severs him:</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 4em">And ready or not ready,—no delay,</span><br /> +<span style="padding-left: 5em;">Forth to his Judge's bar he must away!</span></p> +</div> + +<p>The death of Gessler, which forms the leading object of the plot, +happens at the end of the fourth act; the fifth, occupied with +representing the expulsion of his satellites,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> and the final triumph +and liberation of the Swiss, though diversified with occurrences and +spectacles, moves on with inferior animation. A certain want of unity +is, indeed, distinctly felt throughout all the piece; the incidents do +not point one way; there is no connexion, or a very slight one, +between the enterprise of Tell and that of the men of Rütli. This is +the principal, or rather sole, deficiency of the present work; a +deficiency inseparable from the faithful display of the historical +event, and far more than compensated by the deeper interest and the +wider range of action and delineation, which a strict adherence to the +facts allows. By the present mode of management, Alpine life in all +its length and breadth is placed before us: from the feudal halls of +Attinghausen to Ruodi the Fisher of the Luzern Lake, and Armgart,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The poor wild-hay-man of the Rigiberg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose trade is, on the brow of the abyss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mow the common grass from craggy shelves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nooks to which the cattle dare not climb,—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">we stand as if in presence of the Swiss, beholding the achievement of +their freedom in its minutest circumstances, with all its simplicity +and unaffected greatness. The light of the poet's genius is upon the +Four Forest Cantons, at the opening of the Fourteenth Century: the +whole time and scene shine as with the brightness, the truth, and more +than the beauty, of reality.</p> + +<p>The tragedy of <i>Tell</i> wants unity of interest and of action; but in +spite of this, it may justly claim the high dignity of ranking with +the very best of Schiller's plays. Less comprehensive and ambitious +than <i>Wallenstein</i>, less ethereal than the <i>Jungfrau</i>, it has a look +of nature and substantial truth, which neither of its rivals can boast +of. The feelings it inculcates and appeals to are those of universal +human na<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>ture, and presented in their purest, most unpretending form. +There is no high-wrought sentiment, no poetic love. Tell loves his +wife as honest men love their wives; and the episode of Bertha and +Rudenz, though beautiful, is very brief, and without effect on the +general result. It is delightful and salutary to the heart to wander +among the scenes of <i>Tell</i>: all is lovely, yet all is real. Physical +and moral grandeur are united; yet both are the unadorned grandeur of +Nature. There are the lakes and green valleys beside us, the +Schreckhorn, the Jungfrau, and their sister peaks, with their +avalanches and their palaces of ice, all glowing in the southern sun; +and dwelling among them are a race of manly husbandmen, heroic without +ceasing to be homely, poetical without ceasing to be genuine.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">We have dwelt the longer on this play, not only on account of its +peculiar fascinations, but also—as it is our last! Schiller's +faculties had never been more brilliant than at present: strong in +mature age, in rare and varied accomplishments, he was now reaping the +full fruit of his studious vigils; the rapidity with which he wrote +such noble poems, at once betokened the exuberant riches of his mind +and the prompt command which he enjoyed of them. Still all that he had +done seemed but a fraction of his appointed task: a bold imagination +was carrying him forward into distant untouched fields of thought and +poetry, where triumphs yet more glorious were to be gained. Schemes of +new writings, new kinds of writing, were budding in his fancy; he was +yet, as he had ever been, surrounded by a multitude of projects, and +full of ardour to labour in fulfilling them. But Schiller's labours +and triumphs were drawing to a close. The invisible Messenger was +already near, which overtakes alike the busy and the idle, which +arrests man in the midst of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> pleasures or his occupations, <i>and +changes his countenance and sends him away</i>.</p> + +<p>In 1804, having been at Berlin witnessing the exhibition of his +<i>Wilhelm Tell</i>, he was seized, while returning, with a paroxysm of +that malady which for many years had never wholly left him. The attack +was fierce and violent; it brought him to the verge of the grave; but +he escaped once more; was considered out of danger, and again resumed +his poetical employments. Besides various translations from the French +and Italian, he had sketched a tragedy on the history of Perkin +Warbeck, and finished two acts of one on that of a kindred but more +fortunate impostor, Dimitri of Russia. His mind, it would appear, was +also frequently engaged with more solemn and sublime ideas. The +universe of human thought he had now explored and enjoyed; but he +seems to have found no permanent contentment in any of its provinces. +Many of his later poems indicate an incessant and increasing longing +for some solution of the mystery of life; at times it is a gloomy +resignation to the want and the despair of any. His ardent spirit +could not satisfy itself with things seen, though gilded with all the +glories of intellect and imagination; it soared away in search of +other lands, looking with unutterable desire for some surer and +brighter home beyond the horizon of this world. Death he had no reason +to regard as probably a near event; but we easily perceive that the +awful secrets connected with it had long been familiar to his +contemplation. The veil which hid them from his eyes was now shortly, +when he looked not for it, to be rent asunder.</p> + +<p>The spring of 1805, which Schiller had anticipated with no ordinary +hopes of enjoyment and activity, came on in its course, cold, bleak, +and stormy; and along with it his sickness returned. The help of +physicians was vain; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> unwearied services of trembling affection +were vain: his disorder kept increasing; on the 9th of May it reached +a crisis. Early in the morning of that day, he grew insensible, and by +degrees delirious. Among his expressions, the word <i>Lichtenberg</i> was +frequently noticed; a word of no import; indicating, as some thought, +the writer of that name, whose works he had lately been reading; +according to others, the castle of Leuchtenberg, which, a few days +before his sickness, he had been proposing to visit. The poet and the +sage was soon to lie low; but his friends were spared the farther pain +of seeing him depart in madness. The fiery canopy of physical +suffering, which had bewildered and blinded his thinking faculties, +was drawn aside; and the spirit of Schiller looked forth in its wonted +serenity, once again before it passed away forever. After noon his +delirium abated; about four o'clock he fell into a soft sleep, from +which he ere long awoke in full possession of his senses. Restored to +consciousness in that hour, when the soul is cut off from human help, +and man must front the King of Terrors on his own strength, Schiller +did not faint or fail in this his last and sharpest trial. Feeling +that his end was come, he addressed himself to meet it as became him; +not with affected carelessness or superstitious fear, but with the +quiet unpretending manliness which had marked the tenor of his life. +Of his friends and family he took a touching but a tranquil farewell: +he ordered that his funeral should be private, without pomp or parade. +Some one inquiring how he felt, he said "<i>Calmer and calmer</i>;" simple +but memorable words, expressive of the mild heroism of the man. About +six he sank into a deep sleep; once for a moment he looked up with a +lively air, and said, "<i>Many things were growing plain and clear to +him!</i>" Again he closed his eyes; and his sleep deepened and deepened, +till it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> changed into the sleep from which there is no awakening; and +all that remained of Schiller was a lifeless form, soon to be mingled +with the clods of the valley.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">The news of Schiller's death fell cold on many a heart: not in Germany +alone, but over Europe, it was regarded as a public loss, by all who +understood its meaning. In Weimar especially, the scene of his noblest +efforts, the abode of his chosen friends, the sensation it produced +was deep and universal. The public places of amusement were shut; all +ranks made haste to testify their feelings, to honour themselves and +the deceased by tributes to his memory. It was Friday when Schiller +died; his funeral was meant to be on Sunday; but the state of his +remains made it necessary to proceed before. Doering thus describes +the ceremony:</p> + +<p>'According to his own directions, the bier was to be borne by private +burghers of the city; but several young artists and students, out of +reverence for the deceased, took it from them. It was between midnight +and one in the morning, when they approached the churchyard. The +overclouded heaven threatened rain. But as the bier was set down +beside the grave, the clouds suddenly split asunder, and the moon, +coming forth in peaceful clearness, threw her first rays on the coffin +of the Departed. They lowered him into the grave; and the moon again +retired behind her clouds. A fierce tempest of wind began to howl, as +if it were reminding the bystanders of their great, irreparable loss. +At this moment who could have applied without emotion the poet's own +words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, the ruddy morning tinges<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A silent, cold, sepulchral stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And evening throws her crimson fringes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But round his slumber dark and lone!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So lived and so died Friedrich Schiller; a man on whose history other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +men will long dwell with a mingled feeling of reverence and love. Our +humble record of his life and writings is drawing to an end: yet we +still linger, loth to part with a spirit so dear to us. From the +scanty and too much neglected field of his biography, a few slight +facts and indications may still be gleaned; slight, but distinctive of +him as an individual, and not to be despised in a penury so great and +so unmerited.</p> + +<p>Schiller's age was forty-five years and a few months when he died.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> +Sickness had long wasted his form, which at no time could boast of +faultless symmetry. He was tall and strongly boned; but unmuscular and +lean: his body, it might be perceived, was wasting under the energy of +a spirit too keen for it. His face was pale, the cheeks and temples +rather hollow, the chin somewhat deep and slightly projecting, the +nose irregularly aquiline, his hair inclined to auburn. Withal his +countenance was attractive, and had a certain manly beauty. The lips +were curved together in a line, expressing delicate and honest +sensibility; a silent enthusiasm, impetuosity not unchecked by +melancholy, gleamed in his softly kindled eyes and pale cheeks, and +the brow was high and thoughtful. To judge from his portraits, +Schiller's face expressed well the features of his mind: it is +mildness tempering strength; fiery ardour shining through the clouds +of suffering and disappointment, deep but patiently endured. Pale was +its proper tint; the cheeks and temples were best hollow. There are +few faces that affect us more than Schiller's; it is at once meek, +tender, unpretending, and heroic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<p>In his dress and manner, as in all things, he was plain and +unaffected. Among strangers, something shy and retiring might +occasionally be observed in him: in his own family, or among his +select friends, he was kind-hearted, free, and gay as a little child. +In public, his external appearance had nothing in it to strike or +attract. Of an unpresuming aspect, wearing plain apparel, his looks as +he walked were constantly bent on the ground; so that frequently, as +we are told, 'he failed to notice the salutation of a passing +acquaintance; but if he heard it, he would catch hastily at his hat, +and give his cordial "<i>Guten Tag</i>."' Modesty, simplicity, a total want +of all parade or affectation were conspicuous in him. These are the +usual concomitants of true greatness, and serve to mitigate its +splendour. Common things he did as a common man. His conduct in such +matters was uncalculated, spontaneous; and therefore natural and +pleasing.</p> + +<p>Concerning his mental character, the greater part of what we had to +say has been already said, in speaking of his works. The most cursory +perusal of these will satisfy us that he had a mind of the highest +order; grand by nature, and cultivated by the assiduous study of a +lifetime. It is not the predominating force of any one faculty that +impresses us in Schiller; but the general force of all. Every page of +his writings bears the stamp of internal vigour; new truths, new +aspects of known truth, bold thought, happy imagery, lofty emotion. +Schiller would have been no common man, though he had altogether +wanted the qualities peculiar to poets. His intellect is clear, deep, +and comprehensive; its deductions, frequently elicited from numerous +and distant premises, are presented under a magnificent aspect, in the +shape of theorems, embracing an immense multitude of minor +propositions. Yet it seems powerful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> and vast, rather than quick or +keen; for Schiller is not notable for wit, though his fancy is ever +prompt with its metaphors, illustrations, comparisons, to decorate and +point the perceptions of his reason. The earnestness of his temper +farther disqualified him for this: his tendency was rather to adore +the grand and the lofty than to despise the little and the mean. +Perhaps his greatest faculty was a half-poetical, half-philosophical +imagination: a faculty teeming with magnificence and brilliancy; now +adorning, or aiding to erect, a stately pyramid of scientific +speculation; now brooding over the abysses of thought and feeling, +till thoughts and feelings, else unutterable, were embodied in +expressive forms, and palaces and landscapes glowing in ethereal +beauty rose like exhalations from the bosom of the deep.</p> + +<p>Combined and partly of kindred with these intellectual faculties was +that vehemence of temperament which is necessary for their full +development. Schiller's heart was at once fiery and tender; impetuous, +soft, affectionate, his enthusiasm clothed the universe with grandeur, +and sent his spirit forth to explore its secrets and mingle warmly in +its interests. Thus poetry in Schiller was not one but many gifts. It +was not the 'lean and flashy song' of an ear apt for harmony, combined +with a maudlin sensibility, or a mere animal ferocity of passion, and +an imagination creative chiefly because unbridled: it was, what true +poetry is always, the quintessence of general mental riches, the +purified result of strong thought and conception, and of refined as +well as powerful emotion. In his writings, we behold him a moralist, a +philosopher, a man of universal knowledge: in each of these capacities +he is great, but also in more; for all that he achieves in these is +brightened and gilded with the touch of another quality; his maxims, +his feelings, his opinions are transformed from the lifeless shape of +didactic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> truths, into living shapes that address faculties far finer +than the understanding.</p> + +<p>The gifts by which such transformation is effected, the gift of pure, +ardent, tender sensibility, joined to those of fancy and imagination, +are perhaps not wholly denied to any man endowed with the power of +reason; possessed in various degrees of strength, they add to the +products of mere intellect corresponding tints of new attractiveness; +in a degree great enough to be remarkable they constitute a poet. Of +this peculiar faculty how much had fallen to Schiller's lot, we need +not attempt too minutely to explain. Without injuring his reputation, +it may be admitted that, in general, his works exhibit rather +extraordinary strength than extraordinary fineness or versatility. His +power of dramatic imitation is perhaps never of the very highest, the +Shakspearean kind; and in its best state, it is farther limited to a +certain range of characters. It is with the grave, the earnest, the +exalted, the affectionate, the mournful, that he succeeds: he is not +destitute of humour, as his <i>Wallenstein's Camp</i> will show, but +neither is he rich in it; and for sprightly ridicule in any of its +forms he has seldom shown either taste or talent. Chance principally +made the drama his department; he might have shone equally in many +others. The vigorous and copious invention, the knowledge of life, of +men and things, displayed in his theatrical pieces, might have been +available in very different pursuits; frequently the charm of his +works has little to distinguish it from the charm of intellectual and +moral force in general; it is often the capacious thought, the vivid +imagery, the impetuous feeling of the orator, rather than the wild +pathos and capricious enchantment of the poet. Yet that he was capable +of rising to the loftiest regions of poetry, no reader of his <i>Maid of +Orleans</i>, his character of Thekla, or many other of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> his pieces, will +hesitate to grant. Sometimes we suspect that it is the very grandeur +of his general powers which prevents us from exclusively admiring his +poetic genius. We are not lulled by the syren song of poetry, because +her melodies are blended with the clearer, manlier tones of serious +reason, and of honest though exalted feeling.</p> + +<p>Much laborious discussion has been wasted in defining genius, +particularly by the countrymen of Schiller, some of whom have narrowed +the conditions of the term so far, as to find but three <i>men of +genius</i> since the world was created: Homer, Shakspeare, and Goethe! +From such rigid precision, applied to a matter in itself indefinite, +there may be an apparent, but there is no real, increase of accuracy. +The creative power, the faculty not only of imitating given forms of +being, but of imagining and representing new ones, which is here +attributed with such distinctness and so sparingly, has been given by +nature in complete perfection to no man, nor entirely denied to any. +The shades of it cannot be distinguished by so loose a scale as +language. A definition of genius which excludes such a mind as +Schiller's will scarcely be agreeable to philosophical correctness, +and it will tend rather to lower than to exalt the dignity of the +word. Possessing all the general mental faculties in their highest +degree of strength, an intellect ever active, vast, powerful, +far-sighted; an imagination never weary of producing grand or +beautiful forms; a heart of the noblest temper, sympathies +comprehensive yet ardent, feelings vehement, impetuous, yet full of +love and kindliness and tender pity; conscious of the rapid and fervid +exercise of all these powers within him, and able farther to present +their products refined and harmonised, and 'married to immortal +verse,' Schiller may or may not be called a man of genius by his +critics; but his mind in either case will remain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> one of the most +enviable which can fall to the share of a mortal.</p> + +<p>In a poet worthy of that name, the powers of the intellect are +indissolubly interwoven with the moral feelings, and the exercise of +his art depends not more on the perfection of the one than of the +other. The poet, who does not feel nobly and justly, as well as +passionately, will never permanently succeed in making others feel: +the forms of error and falseness, infinite in number, are transitory +in duration; truth, of thought and sentiment, but chiefly of +sentiment, truth alone is eternal and unchangeable. But, happily, a +delight in the products of reason and imagination can scarcely ever be +divided from, at least, a love for virtue and genuine greatness. Our +feelings are in favour of heroism; we <i>wish</i> to be pure and perfect. +Happy he whose resolutions are so strong, or whose temptations are so +weak, that he can convert these feelings into action! The severest +pang, of which a proud and sensitive nature can be conscious, is the +perception of its own debasement. The sources of misery in life are +many: vice is one of the surest. Any human creature, tarnished with +guilt, will in general be wretched; a man of genius in that case will +be doubly so, for his ideas of excellence are higher, his sense of +failure is more keen. In such miseries, Schiller had no share. The +sentiments, which animated his poetry, were converted into principles +of conduct; his actions were as blameless as his writings were pure. +With his simple and high predilections, with his strong devotedness to +a noble cause, he contrived to steer through life, unsullied by its +meanness, unsubdued by any of its difficulties or allurements. With +the world, in fact, he had not much to do; without effort, he dwelt +apart from it; its prizes were not the wealth which could enrich him. +His great, almost his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> single aim, was to unfold his spiritual +faculties, to study and contemplate and improve their intellectual +creations. Bent upon this, with the steadfastness of an apostle, the +more sordid temptations of the world passed harmlessly over him. +Wishing not to seem, but to be, envy was a feeling of which he knew +but little, even before he rose above its level. Wealth or rank he +regarded as a means, not an end; his own humble fortune supplying him +with all the essential conveniences of life, the world had nothing +more that he chose to covet, nothing more that it could give him. He +was not rich; but his habits were simple, and, except by reason of his +sickness and its consequences, unexpensive. At all times he was far +above the meanness of self-interest, particularly in its meanest +shape, a love of money. Doering tells us, that a bookseller having +travelled from a distance expressly to offer him a higher price for +the copyright of <i>Wallenstein</i>, at that time in the press, and for +which he was on terms with Cotta of Tübingen, Schiller answering, +"Cotta deals steadily with me, and I with him," sent away this new +merchant, without even the hope of a future bargain. The anecdote is +small; but it seems to paint the integrity of the man, careless of +pecuniary concerns in comparison with the strictest uprightness in his +conduct. In fact, his real wealth lay in being able to pursue his +darling studies, and to live in the sunshine of friendship and +domestic love. This he had always longed for; this he at last enjoyed. +And though sickness and many vexations annoyed him, the intrinsic +excellence of his nature chequered the darkest portions of their gloom +with an effulgence derived from himself. The ardour of his feelings, +tempered by benevolence, was equable and placid: his temper, though +overflowing with generous warmth, seems almost never to have shown any +hastiness or anger. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> all men he was humane and sympathising; among +his friends, open-hearted, generous, helpful; in the circle of his +family, kind, tender, sportive. And what gave an especial charm to all +this was, the unobtrusiveness with which it was attended: there was no +parade, no display, no particle of affectation; rating and conducting +himself simply as an honest man and citizen, he became greater by +forgetting that he was great.</p> + +<p>Such were the prevailing habits of Schiller. That in the mild and +beautiful brilliancy of their aspect there must have been some specks +and imperfections, the common lot of poor humanity, who knows not? +That these were small and transient, we judge from the circumstance +that scarcely any hint of them has reached us: nor are we anxious to +obtain a full description of them. For practical uses, we can +sufficiently conjecture what they were; and the heart desires not to +dwell upon them. This man is passed away from our dim and tarnished +world: let him have the benefit of departed friends; let him be +transfigured in our thoughts, and shine there without the little +blemishes that clung to him in life.</p> + +<p>Schiller gives a fine example of the German character: he has all its +good qualities in a high degree, with very few of its defects. We +trace in him all that downrightness and simplicity, that sincerity of +heart and mind, for which the Germans are remarked; their enthusiasm, +their patient, long-continuing, earnest devotedness; their +imagination, delighting in the lofty and magnificent; their intellect, +rising into refined abstractions, stretching itself into comprehensive +generalisations. But the excesses to which such a character is liable +are, in him, prevented by a firm and watchful sense of propriety. His +simplicity never degenerates into ineptitude or insipidity; his +enthusiasm must be based on reason;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> he rarely suffers his love of the +vast to betray him into toleration of the vague. The boy Schiller was +extravagant; but the man admits no bombast in his style, no inflation +in his thoughts or actions. He is the poet of truth; our +understandings and consciences are satisfied, while our hearts and +imaginations are moved. His fictions are emphatically nature copied +and embellished; his sentiments are refined and touchingly beautiful, +but they are likewise manly and correct; they exalt and inspire, but +they do not mislead. Above all, he has no cant; in any of its thousand +branches, ridiculous or hateful, none. He does not distort his +character or genius into shapes, which he thinks more becoming than +their natural one: he does not hang out principles which are not his, +or harbour beloved persuasions which he half or wholly knows to be +false. He did not often speak of wholesome prejudices; he did not +'embrace the Roman Catholic religion because it was the grandest and +most comfortable.' Truth with Schiller, or what seemed such, was an +indispensable requisite: if he but suspected an opinion to be false, +however dear it may have been, he seems to have examined it with rigid +scrutiny, and if he found it guilty, to have plucked it out, and +resolutely cast it forth. The sacrifice might cause him pain, +permanent pain; real damage, he imagined, it could hardly cause him. +It is irksome and dangerous to travel in the dark; but better so, than +with an <i>Ignis-fatuus</i> to guide us. Considering the warmth of his +sensibilities, Schiller's merit on this point is greater than we might +at first suppose. For a man with whom intellect is the ruling or +exclusive faculty, whose sympathies, loves, hatreds, are comparatively +coarse and dull, it may be easy to avoid this half-wilful +entertainment of error, and this cant which is the consequence and +sign of it. But for a man of keen tastes, a large fund of innate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +probity is necessary to prevent his aping the excellence which he +loves so much, yet is unable to attain. Among persons of the latter +sort, it is extremely rare to meet with one completely unaffected. +Schiller's other noble qualities would not have justice, did we +neglect to notice this, the truest proof of their nobility. Honest, +unpretending, manly simplicity pervades all parts of his character and +genius and habits of life. We not only admire him, we trust him and +love him.</p> + +<p>'The character of child-like simplicity,' he has himself observed,<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> +'which genius impresses on its works, it shows also in its private +life and manners. It is bashful, for nature is ever so; but it is not +prudish, for only corruption is prudish. It is clear-sighted, for +nature can never be the contrary; but it is not cunning, for this only +art can be. It is faithful to its character and inclinations; but not +so much because it is directed by principles, as because after all +vibrations nature constantly reverts to her original position, +constantly renews her primitive demand. It is modest, nay timid, for +genius is always a secret to itself; but it is not anxious, for it +knows not the dangers of the way which it travels. Of the private +habits of the persons who have been peculiarly distinguished by their +genius, our information is small; but the little that has been +recorded for us of the chief of them,—of Sophocles, Archimedes, +Hippocrates; and in modern times, of Dante and Tasso, of Rafaelle, +Albrecht Dürer, Cervantes, Shakspeare, Fielding, and others,—confirms +this observation.' Schiller himself confirms it; perhaps more strongly +than most of the examples here adduced. No man ever wore his faculties +more meekly, or performed great works with less consciousness of their +greatness. Abstracted from the contemplation of himself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> his eye was +turned upon the objects of his labour, and he pursued them with the +eagerness, the entireness, the spontaneous sincerity, of a boy +pursuing sport. Hence this 'child-like simplicity,' the last +perfection of his other excellencies. His was a mighty spirit +unheedful of its might. He walked the earth in calm power: 'the staff +of his spear was like a weaver's beam;' but he wielded it like a wand.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Such, so far as we can represent it, is the form in which Schiller's +life and works have gradually painted their character in the mind of a +secluded individual, whose solitude he has often charmed, whom he has +instructed, and cheered, and moved. The original impression, we know, +was faint and inadequate, the present copy of it is still more so; yet +we have sketched it as we could: the figure of Schiller, and of the +figures he conceived and drew are there; himself, 'and in his hand a +glass which shows us many more.' To those who look on him as we have +wished to make them, Schiller will not need a farther panegyric. For +the sake of Literature, it may still be remarked, that his merit was +peculiarly due to her. Literature was his creed, the dictate of his +conscience; he was an Apostle of the Sublime and Beautiful, and this +his calling made a hero of him. For it was in the spirit of a true man +that he viewed it, and undertook to cultivate it; and its inspirations +constantly maintained the noblest temper in his soul. The end of +Literature was not, in Schiller's judgment, to amuse the idle, or to +recreate the busy, by showy spectacles for the imagination, or quaint +paradoxes and epigrammatic disquisitions for the understanding: least +of all was it to gratify in any shape the selfishness of its +professors, to minister to their malignity, their love of money, or +even of fame. For persons who degrade it to such purposes, the deepest +contempt of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> which his kindly nature could admit was at all times in +store. 'Unhappy mortal!' says he to the literary tradesman, the man +who writes for gain, 'Unhappy mortal, who with science and art, the +noblest of all instruments, effectest and attemptest nothing more than +the day-drudge with the meanest; who, in the domain of perfect +Freedom, bearest about in thee the spirit of Slave!' As Schiller +viewed it, genuine Literature includes the essence of philosophy, +religion, art; whatever speaks to the immortal part of man. The +daughter, she is likewise the nurse of all that is spiritual and +exalted in our character. The boon she bestows is truth; truth not +merely physical, political, economical, such as the sensual man in us +is perpetually demanding, ever ready to reward, and likely in general +to find; but truth of moral feeling, truth of taste, that inward truth +in its thousand modifications, which only the most ethereal portion of +our nature can discern, but without which that portion of it +languishes and dies, and we are left divested of our birthright, +thenceforward 'of the earth earthy,' machines for earning and +enjoying, no longer worthy to be called the Sons of Heaven. The +treasures of Literature are thus celestial, imperishable, beyond all +price: with her is the shrine of our best hopes, the palladium of pure +manhood; to be among the guardians and servants of this is the noblest +function that can be intrusted to a mortal. Genius, even in its +faintest scintillations, is 'the inspired gift of God;' a solemn +mandate to its owner to go forth and labour in his sphere, to keep +alive 'the sacred fire' among his brethren, which the heavy and +polluted atmosphere of this world is forever threatening to +extinguish. Woe to him if he neglect this mandate, if he hear not its +small still voice! Woe to him if he turn this inspired gift into the +servant of his evil or ignoble passions; if he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> offer it on the altar +of vanity, if he sell it for a piece of money!</p> + +<p>'The Artist, it is true,' says Schiller, 'is the son of his age; but +pity for him if he is its pupil, or even its favourite! Let some +beneficent Divinity snatch him when a suckling from the breast of his +mother, and nurse him with the milk of a better time; that he may +ripen to his full stature beneath a distant Grecian sky. And having +grown to manhood, let him return, a foreign shape, into his century; +not, however, to delight it by his presence; but terrible, like the +Son of Agamemnon, to purify it. The Matter of his works he will take +from the present; but their Form he will derive from a nobler time, +nay from beyond all time, from the absolute unchanging unity of his +nature. Here from the pure æther of his spiritual essence, flows down +the Fountain of Beauty, uncontaminated by the pollutions of ages and +generations, which roll to and fro in their turbid vortex far beneath +it. His Matter caprice can dishonour as she has ennobled it; but the +chaste Form is withdrawn from her mutations. The Roman of the first +century had long bent the knee before his Cæsars, when the statues of +Rome were still standing erect; the temples continued holy to the eye, +when their gods had long been a laughing-stock; and the abominations +of a Nero and a Commodus were silently rebuked by the style of the +edifice which lent them its concealment. Man has lost his dignity, but +Art has saved it, and preserved it for him in expressive marbles. +Truth still lives in fiction, and from the copy the original will be +restored.</p> + +<p>'But how is the Artist to guard himself from the corruptions of his +time, which on every side assail him? By despising its decisions. Let +him look upwards to his dig<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>nity and his mission, not downwards to his +happiness and his wants. Free alike from the vain activity, that longs +to impress its traces on the fleeting instant; and from the +discontented spirit of enthusiasm, that measures by the scale of +perfection the meagre product of reality, let him leave to <i>common +sense</i>, which is here at home, the province of the actual; while <i>he</i> +strives from the union of the possible with the necessary to bring out +the ideal. This let him imprint and express in fiction and truth, +imprint it in the sport of his imagination and the earnest of his +actions, imprint it in all sensible and spiritual forms, and cast it +silently into everlasting Time.'<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p> + +<p>Nor were these sentiments, be it remembered, the mere boasting +manifesto of a hot-brained inexperienced youth, entering on literature +with feelings of heroic ardour, which its difficulties and temptations +would soon deaden or pervert: they are the calm principles of a man, +expressed with honest manfulness, at a period when the world could +compare them with a long course of conduct. In this just and lofty +spirit, Schiller undertook the business of literature; in the same +spirit he pursued it with unflinching energy all the days of his life. +The common, and some uncommon, difficulties of a fluctuating and +dependent existence could not quench or abate his zeal: sickness +itself seemed hardly to affect him. During his last fifteen years, he +wrote his noblest works; yet, as it has been proved too well, no day +of that period could have passed without its load of pain.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> Pain +could not turn him from his purpose, or shake his equanimity: in death +itself he was <i>calmer and calmer</i>. Nor has <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>he gone without his +recompense. To the credit of the world it can be recorded, that their +suffrages, which he never courted, were liberally bestowed on him: +happier than the mighty Milton, he found 'fit hearers,' even in his +lifetime, and they were not 'few.' His effect on the mind of his own +country has been deep and universal, and bids fair to be abiding: his +effect on other countries must in time be equally decided; for such +nobleness of heart and soul shadowed forth in beautiful imperishable +emblems, is a treasure which belongs not to one nation, but to all. In +another age, this Schiller will stand forth in the foremost rank among +the master-spirits of his century; and be admitted to a place among +the chosen of all centuries. His works, the memory of what he did and +was, will rise afar off like a towering landmark in the solitude of +the Past, when distance shall have dwarfed into invisibility the +lesser people that encompassed him, and hid him from the near +beholder.</p> + +<p>On the whole, we may pronounce him happy. His days passed in the +contemplation of ideal grandeurs, he lived among the glories and +solemnities of universal Nature; his thoughts were of sages and +heroes, and scenes of elysian beauty. It is true, he had no rest, no +peace; but he enjoyed the fiery consciousness of his own activity, +which stands in place of it for men like him. It is true, he was long +sickly; but did he not even then conceive and body-forth Max +Piccolomini, and Thekla, and the Maid of Orleans, and the scenes of +<i>Wilhelm Tell</i>? It is true, he died early; but the student will +exclaim with Charles XII. in another case, "Was it not enough of life +when he had conquered kingdoms?" These kingdoms which Schiller +conquered were not for one nation at the expense of suffering to +another; they were soiled by no patriot's blood, no widow's, no +orphan's tear: they are kingdoms conquered from the barren realms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> of +Darkness, to increase the happiness, and dignity, and power, of all +men; new forms of Truth, new maxims of Wisdom, new images and scenes +of Beauty, won from the 'void and formless Infinite;' a <ins class="correction" +title="Transcribed as: 'ktêma es aiei'">κτημα ες αιει</ins>, +'a possession forever,' to all the generations of the +Earth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> The paper entitled <i>Hints on the Origin of Human +Society, as indicated in the Mosaic Records</i>, the <i>Mission of Moses</i>, +the <i>Laws of Solon and Lycurgus</i>, are pieces of the very highest +order; full of strength and beauty; delicious to the lovers of that +plastic philosophy, which employs itself in giving form and life to +the 'dry bones' of those antique events, that lie before us so +inexplicable in the brief and enigmatic pages of their chroniclers. +The <i>Glance over Europe at the period of the first Crusade</i>; the +<i>Times of the Emperor Frederick I.</i>; the <i>Troubles in France</i>, are +also masterly sketches, in a simpler and more common style.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Yet we scarcely meet with one so happy as that in the +<i>Revolt of the Netherlands</i>, where he finishes his picture of the +gloomy silence and dismay that reigned in Brussels on the first +entrance of Alba, by this striking simile: 'Now that the City had +received the Spanish General within its walls, it had the air as of a +man that has drunk a cup of poison, and with shuddering expectation +watches, every moment, for its deadly agency.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> See <a href="#NO_4_PAGE_125">Appendix I., No. 4.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> It was to Denmark likewise that Klopstock owed the means +of completing his <i>Messias</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Schelling has a book on the 'Soul of the World:' +Fichte's expression to his students, "Tomorrow, gentlemen, I shall +create God," is known to most readers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> See <i>Herder's Leben</i>, by his Widow. That Herder was not +usually troubled with any unphilosophical scepticism, or aversion to +novelty, may be inferred from his patronising Dr. Gall's system of +Phrenology, or 'Skull-doctrine' as they call it in Germany. But Gall +had referred with acknowledgment and admiration to the <i>Philosophie +der Geschichte der Menschheit</i>. Here lay a difference.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> From the verb <ins class="correction" +title="Transcribed as: 'aisthanomai'">αισθἁνομαι</ins>, <i>to feel</i>.—The term +is Baumgarten's; prior to Kant (1845).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Are our hopes from Mr. Coleridge always to be fruitless? +Sneers at the common-sense philosophy of the Scotch are of little use: +it is a poor philosophy, perhaps; but not so poor as none at all, +which seems to be the state of matters here at present.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> These were a fine version, of Euripides' <i>Iphigenia in +Aulide</i>, and a few scenes of his <i>Phœnissæ</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> So called from <ins class="correction" +title="Transcribed as: 'xenion'">ξἑνιον</ins>, <i>munus hospitale</i>; a +title borrowed from Martial, who has thus designated a series of +personal epigrams in his Thirteenth Book.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> This is but a lame account of the far-famed <i>Xenien</i> and +their results. See more of the matter in Franz Horn's <i>Poesie und +Beredtsamkeit</i>; in Carlyle's <i>Miscellanies</i> (i. 67); &c. (<i>Note of +1845.</i>)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> 'The street leading from Schiller's dwelling-house to +this, was by some wags named the <i>Xenien-gasse</i>; a name not yet +entirely disused.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Doering, pp. 118-131.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Said to be by Goethe; the materials faithfully extracted +from a real sermon (by the Jesuit Santa Clara) of the period it refers +to.—There were various Jesuits Santa Clara, of that period: this is +the <i>German</i> one, Abraham by name; specimens of whose Sermons, a +fervent kind of preaching-run-mad, have been reprinted in late years, +for dilettante purposes, (<i>Note of 1845.</i>)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> <i>Wallenstein</i> has been translated into French by M. +Benjamin Constant; and the last two parts of it have been faithfully +rendered into English by Mr. Coleridge. As to the French version, we +know nothing, save that it is an <i>improved</i> one; but that little is +enough: Schiller, as a dramatist, improved by M. Constant, is a +spectacle we feel no wish to witness. Mr. Coleridge's translation is +also, as a whole, unknown to us: but judging from many large +specimens, we should pronounce it, excepting Sotheby's <i>Oberon</i>, to be +the best, indeed the only sufferable, translation from the German with +which our literature has yet been enriched.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Doering (p. 176);—who adds as follows: 'Another +testimony of approval, very different in its nature, he received at +the first production of the play in Weimar. Knowing and valuing, as he +did, the public of that city, it could not but surprise him greatly, +when a certain young Doctor S—— called out to him, "<i>Bravo, +Schiller!</i>" from the gallery, in a very loud tone of voice. Offended +at such impertinence, the poet hissed strongly, in which the audience +joined him. He likewise expressed in words his displeasure at this +conduct; and the youthful sprig of medicine was, by direction of the +Court, farther punished for his indiscreet applause, by some +admonitions from the police.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> 'Whatever he intended to write, he first composed in his +head, before putting down a line of it on paper. He used to call a +work <i>ready</i> so soon as its existence in his spirit was complete: +hence in the public there often were reports that such and such a +piece of his was finished, when, in the common sense, it was not even +begun.'—<i>Jördens Lexicon</i>, § <span class="smcap">Schiller</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> 'He left a widow, two sons, and two daughters,' of whom +we regret to say that we have learned nothing. 'Of his three sisters, +the youngest died before him; the eldest is married to the Hofrath +Reinwald, in Meinungen; the second to Herr Frankh, the clergyman of +Meckmuhl, in Würtemberg.' <i>Doering.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>Naive und sentimentalische Dichtung.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <i>Über die æsthetische Erziehung des Menschen.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> On a surgical inspection of his body after death, the +most vital organs were found totally deranged. 'The structure of the +lungs was in great part destroyed, the cavities of the heart were +nearly grown up, the liver had become hard, and the gall-bladder was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +extended to an extraordinary size.' <i>Doering.</i></p></div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="SUPPLEMENT_OF_1872" id="SUPPLEMENT_OF_1872"></a>SUPPLEMENT OF 1872.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></h2> + + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="HERR_SAUPES_BOOK" id="HERR_SAUPES_BOOK"></a>HERR SAUPE'S BOOK.<br /> +<small>[NOTE IN PEOPLE'S EDITION.]</small></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the end of Autumn last a considerately kind old Friend of mine +brought home to me, from his Tour in Germany, a small Book by a Herr +Saupe, one of the Head-masters of Gera High-School,—Book entitled +'Schiller and His Father's Household,'<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a>—of which, though it has +been before the world these twenty years and more, I had not heard +till then. The good little Book,—an altogether modest, lucid, exact +and amiable, though not very lively performance, offering new little +facts about the Schiller world, or elucidations and once or twice a +slight correction of the old,—proved really interesting and +instructive; awoke, in me especially, multifarious reflections, +mournfully beautiful old memories;—and led to farther readings in +other Books touching on the same subject, particularly in these three +mentioned below,<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a>—the first two of them earlier than Saupe's, the +third later and slightly corrective of him once or twice;—all which +agreeably employed me for some weeks, and continued to be rather a +pious recreation than any labour.</p> + +<p>To this accident of Saupe's little Book there was, meanwhile, added +another not less unexpected: a message, namely, from Bibliopolic +Head-quarters <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>that my own poor old Book on Schiller was to be +reprinted, and that in this "<i>People's Edition</i>" it would want (on +deduction of the German Piece by Goethe, which had gone into the +"<i>Library Edition</i>," but which had no fitness here) some sixty or +seventy pages for the proper size of the volume. <i>Saupe</i>, which I was +still reading, or idly reading-about, offered the ready +expedient:—and here accordingly <i>Saupe</i> is. I have had him faithfully +translated, and with some small omissions or abridgments, slight +transposals here and there for clearness' sake, and one or two +elucidative patches, gathered from the three subsidiary Books already +named, all duly distinguished from Saupe's text;—whereby the gap or +deficit of pages is well filled up, almost of its own accord. And thus +I can now certify that, in all essential respects, the authentic +<i>Saupe</i> is here made accessible to English readers as to German; and +hope that to many lovers of Schiller among us, who are likely to be +lovers also of humbly beautiful Human Worth, and of such an +unconsciously noble scene of Poverty made <i>richer</i> than any +California, as that of the elder Schiller Household here manifests, it +may be a welcome and even profitable bit of reading.</p> + +<p class="right">T. C.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Chelsea, Nov. 1872.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="SAUPES" id="SAUPES"></a><small>SAUPE'S</small><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span><br /><br /> +"SCHILLER AND HIS FATHER'S HOUSEHOLD."</h3> + + +<h4>I. THE FATHER.</h4> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Schiller's</span> Father, Johann Caspar Schiller, was born at Bittenfeld, a +parish hamlet in the ancient part of Würtemberg, a little north of +Waiblingen, on the 27th October 1723. He had not yet completed his +tenth year when his Father, Johannes Schiller, <i>Schultheiss</i>, "Petty +Magistrate," of the Village, and by trade a Baker, died, at the age of +fifty-one. Soon after which the fatherless Boy, hardly fitted out with +the most essential elements of education, had to quit school, and was +apprenticed to a Surgeon; with whom, according to the then custom, he +was to learn the art of "Surgery;" but in reality had little more to +do than follow the common employment of a Barber.</p> + +<p>'After completing his apprenticeship and proof-time, the pushing young +lad, eager to get forward in the world, went, during the +Austrian-Succession War, in the year 1745, with a Bavarian Hussar +Regiment, as "Army-Doctor," into the Netherlands. Here, as his active +mind found no full employment in the practice of his Art, he willingly +undertook, withal, the duties of a sub-officer in small military +enterprises. On the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, when a part of +this Regiment was disbanded, and Schiller with them, he returned to +his homeland; and set himself down in Marbach, a pleasant little +country town on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> Neckar, as practical Surgeon there. Here, in +1749, he married the Poet's Mother; then a young girl of sixteen: +Elisabetha Dorothea, born at Marbach in the year 1733, the daughter of +a respectable townsman, Georg Friedrich Kodweis, who, to his trade of +Baker adding that of Innkeeper and Woodmeasurer, had gathered a little +fortune, and was at this time counted well-off, though afterwards, by +some great inundation of the Neckar,' date not given, 'he was again +reduced to poverty. The brave man by this unavoidable mischance came, +by degrees, so low that he had to give-up his house in the +Market-Place, and in the end to dwell in a poor hut, as Porter at one +of the Toll-Gates of Marbach. Elisabetha was a comely girl to look +upon; slender, well-formed, without quite being tall; the neck long, +hair high-blond, almost red, brow broad, eyes as if a little sorish, +face covered with freckles; but with all these features enlivened by a +soft expression of kindliness and good-nature.</p> + +<p>'This marriage, for the first eight years, was childless; after that, +they gradually had six children, two of whom died soon after birth; +the Poet Schiller was the second of these six, and the only Boy. The +young couple had to live in a very narrow, almost needy condition, as +neither of them had any fortune; and the Husband's business could +hardly support a household. There is still in existence a legal +Marriage Record and Inventory, such as is usual in these cases, which +estimates the money and money's worth brought together by the young +people at a little over 700 gulden (70<i>l.</i>). Out of the same +Inventory, one sees, by the small value put upon the surgical +instruments, and the outstanding debts of patients, distinctly enough, +that Caspar Schiller's practice, at that point of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> time, did not much +exceed that of a third-class Surgeon, and was scarcely adequate, as +above stated, to support the thriftiest household. And therefore it is +not surprising that Schiller, intent on improving so bare a position, +should, at the breaking-out of the Seven-Years War, have anew sought a +military appointment, as withal more fit for employing his young +strength and ambitions.</p> + +<p>'In the beginning of the year 1757 he went, accordingly, as Ensign and +Adjutant, into the Würtemberg Regiment Prince Louis; which in several +of the campaigns in the Seven-Years War belonged to an auxiliary corps +of the Austrian Army.'—Was he at the <i>Ball of Fulda</i>, one wonders? +Yes, for certain! He was at the Ball of Fulda (tragi-comical Explosion +of a Ball, <i>not</i> yet got to the dancing-point); and had to run for +life, as his Duke, in a highly-ridiculous manner, had already done. +And, again, tragically, it is certain that he stood on the fated +Austrian left-wing at the <i>Battle of Leuthen</i>; had his horse shot +under him there, and was himself nearly drowned in a quagmire, +struggling towards Breslau that night.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></p> + +<p>'In Bohemia this Corps was visited by an infectious fever, and +suffered by the almost pestilential disorder a good deal of loss. In +this bad time, Schiller, who by his temperance and frequent movement +in the open air had managed to retain perfect health, showed himself +very active and helpful; and cheerfully undertook every kind of +business in which he could be of use. He attended the sick, there +being a scarcity of Doctors; and served at the same time as Chaplain +to the Regiment, so far as to lead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> the Psalmody, and read the +Prayers. When, after this, he was changed into another Würtemberg +Regiment, which served in Hessen and Thüringen, he employed every free +hour in filling up, by his own industrious study, the many deeply-felt +defects in his young schooling; and was earnestly studious. By his +perseverant zeal and diligence, he succeeded in the course of these +war-years in acquiring not only many medical, military and +agricultural branches of knowledge, but also, as his Letters prove, in +amassing a considerable amount of general culture. Nor did his +praiseworthy efforts remain without recognition and external reward. +At the end of the Seven-Years War, he had risen to be a Captain, and +had even saved a little money.</p> + +<p>'His Wife, who, during these War-times, lived, on money sent by him, +in her Father's house at Marbach, he could only visit seldom, and for +short periods in winter-quarters, much as he longed for his faithful +Wife; who, after the birth of a Daughter, in September 1757, was +dearer to him than ever. But never had the rigid fetters of +War-discipline appeared more oppressive than when, two years later, in +November 1759, a Son, the Poet, was born. With joyful thanks to God, +he saluted this dear Gift of Heaven; in daily prayer commended Mother +and Child to "the Being of all Beings;" and waited now with impatience +the time when he should revisit his home, and those that were his +there. Yet there still passed four years before Father Schiller, on +conclusion of the Hubertsburg Peace, 1763, could return home from the +War, and again take up his permanent residence in his home-country. +Where, on his return, his first Garrison quarters were, whether at +Ludwigsburg, Cannstadt or what other place, is not known. On the other +hand, all likelihoods are, that, so soon as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> could find it +possible, he carried over his Wife and his two Children, the little +Daughter Christophine six, and the little Friedrich now four, out of +Marbach to his own quarters, wherever these were.'</p> + +<p>There is no date to the Neckar Inundation above mentioned; but we have +elsewhere evidence that the worthy Father Kodweis with his Wife, at +this time, still dwelt in their comfortable house in the Market-Place. +We know also, though it is not mentioned in the text, that their pious +Daughter struggled zealously to the last to alleviate their sore +poverty; and the small effect, so far as money goes, may testify how +poor and straitened the Schiller Family itself then was.</p> + +<p>'With the Father's return out of War, there came a new element into +the Family, which had so long been deprived of its natural Guardian +and Counsellor. To be House-Father in the full sense of the word was +now all the more Captain Schiller's need and duty, the longer his +War-service had kept him excluded from the sacred vocation of Husband +and Father. For he was throughout a rational and just man, simple, +strong, expert, active for practical life, if also somewhat quick and +rough. This announced itself even in the outward make and look of him; +for he was of short stout stature and powerful make of limbs; the brow +high-arched, eyes sharp and keen. Withal, his erect carriage, his firm +step, his neat clothing, as well as his clear and decisive mode of +speech, all testified of strict military training; which also extended +itself over his whole domestic life, and even over the daily devotions +of the Family. For although the shallow Illuminationism of that period +had produced some influence on his religious convictions, he held fast +by the pious principles of his fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>bears; read regularly to his +household out of the Bible; and pronounced aloud, each day, the +Morning and Evening Prayer. And this was, in his case, not merely an +outward decorous bit of discipline, but in fact the faithful +expression of his Christian conviction, that man's true worth and true +happiness can alone be found in the fear of the Lord, and the moral +purity of his heart and conduct. He himself had even, in the manner of +those days, composed a long Prayer, which he in later years addressed +to God every morning, and which began with the following lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True Watcher of Israel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Thee be praise, thanks and honour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praying aloud I praise Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That earth and Heaven may hear.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'If, therefore, a certain otherwise accredited Witness calls him a +kind of crotchety, fantastic person, mostly brooding over strange +thoughts and enterprises, this can only have meant that Caspar +Schiller in earlier years appeared such, namely at the time when, as +incipient Surgeon at Marbach, he saw himself forced into a circle of +activity which corresponded neither to his inclination, strength nor +necessities.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'On the spiritual development of his Son this conscientious Father +employed his warmest interest and activities; and appears to have been +for some time assisted herein by a near relation, a certain Johann +Friedrich Schiller from Bittenfeld; the same who, as <i>Studiosus +Philosophiæ</i>, was, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> 1759, Godfather to the Boy. He is said to have +given the little Godson Fritz his first lessons in Writing, +Natural-History and Geography. A more effective assistance in this +matter the Father soon after met with on removing to Lorch.</p> + +<p>'In the year 1765, the reigning Duke, Karl of Würtemberg, sent Captain +Schiller as Recruiting Officer to the Imperial Free-Town +Schwäbish-Gmünd; with permission to live with his Family in the +nearest Würtemberg place, the Village and Cloister of Lorch. Lorch +lies in a green meadow-ground, surrounded by beech-woods, at the foot +of a hill, which is crowned by the weird buildings of the Cloister, +where the Hohenstaufen graves are; opposite the Cloister and Hamlet, +rise the venerable ruins of Hohenstaufen itself, with a series of +hills; at the bottom winds the Rems,' a branch of the Neckar, 'towards +still fruitfuler regions. In this attractive rural spot the Schiller +Family resided for several years; and found from the pious and kindly +people of the Hamlet, and especially from a friend of the house, +Moser, the worthy Parish-Parson there, the kindliest reception. The +Schiller children soon felt themselves at home and happy in Lorch, +especially Fritz did, who, in the Parson's Son, Christoph Ferdinand +Moser, a soft gentle child, met with his first boy-friend. In this +worthy Parson's house he also received, along with the Parson's own +Sons, the first regular and accurate instruction in reading and +writing, as also in the elements of Latin and Greek. This arrangement +pleased and comforted Captain Schiller not a little: for the more +distinctly he, with his clear and candid character, recognised the +insufficiency of his own instruction and stock of knowledge, the more +impressively it lay on him that his Son should early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> acquire a good +foundation in Languages and Science, and learn something solid and +effective. What he could himself do in that particular he faithfully +did; bringing out, with this purpose, partly the grand historical +memorials of that neighbourhood, partly his own life-experiences, in +instructive and exciting dialogues with his children. He would point +out to the listening little pair the venerable remains of the +Hohenstaufen Ancestral Castle, or tell them of his own soldier-career. +He took the Boy with him into the Exercise Camp, to the Woodmen in the +Forest, and even into the farther-distant pleasure-castle of +Hohenheim; and thereby led their youthful imagination into many +changeful imaginings of life.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> + +<p>'Externally little Fritz and his Sister were not like; Christophine +more resembling the Father, whilst Friedrich was the image of the +Mother. On the other hand, they had internally very much in common; +both possessed a lively apprehension for whatever was true, beautiful +or good. Both had a temper capable of enthusiasm, which early and +chiefly turned towards the sublime and grand: in short, the strings of +their souls were tuned on a cognate tone. Add to this, that both, in +the beautifulest, happiest period of their life, had been under the +sole care and direction of the pious genial Mother; and that Fritz, at +least till his sixth year, was exclusively limited to Christophine's +society, and had no other companion. They two had to be, and were, all +to each other. Christophine on this account stood nearer to her +Brother throughout all his life than the Sisters who were born later.</p> + +<p>'In rural stillness, and in almost uninterrupted converse with +out-door nature, flowed by for Fritz and her the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> greatest part of +their childhood and youth. Especially dear to them was their abode in +this romantic region. Every hour that was free from teaching or other +task, they employed in roaming about in the neighbourhood; and they +knew no higher joy than a ramble into the neighbouring hills. In +particular they liked to make pilgrimages together to a chapel on the +Calvary Hill at Gmünd, a few miles off, to which the way was still +through the old monkish grief-stations, on to the Cloister of Lorch +noticed above. Often they would sit with closely-grasped hands, under +the thousand-years-old Linden, which stood on a projection before the +Cloister-walls, and seemed to whisper to them long-silent tales of +past ages. On these walks the hearts of the two clasped each other +ever closer and more firmly, and they faithfully shared their little +childish joys and sorrows. Christophine would bitterly weep when her +vivacious Brother had committed some small misdeed and was punished +for it. In such cases, she often enough confessed Fritz's faults as +her own, and was punished when she had in reality had no complicity in +them. It was with great sorrow that they two parted from their little +Paradise; and both of them always retained a great affection for Lorch +and its neighbourhood. Christophine, who lived to be ninety, often +even in her latter days looked back with tender affection to their +abode there.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'In his family-circle, the otherwise hard-mannered Father showed +always to Mother and Daughters the tenderest respect and the +affectionate tone which the heart suggests. Thus, if at table a dish +had chanced to be especially prepared for him, he would never eat of +it without first inviting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> the Daughters to be helped. As little could +he ever, in the long-run, withstand the requests of his gentle Wife; +so that not seldom she managed to soften his rough severity. The +Children learned to make use of this feature in his character; and +would thereby save themselves from the first outburst of his anger. +They confessed beforehand to the Mother their bits of misdoings, and +begged her to inflict the punishment, and prevent their falling into +the heavier paternal hand. Towards the Son again, whose moral +development his Father anxiously watched over, his wrath was at times +disarmed by touches of courage and fearlessness on the Boy's part. +Thus little Fritz, once on a visit at Hohenheim, in the house where +his Father was calling, and which formed part of the side-buildings of +the Castle, whilst his Father followed his business within doors, had, +unobserved, clambered out of a saloon-window, and undertaken a voyage +of discovery over the roofs. The Boy, who had been missed and +painfully sought after, was discovered just on the point of trying to +have a nearer view of the Lion's Head, by which one of the +roof-gutters discharges itself, when the terrified Father got eye on +him, and called out aloud. Cunning Fritz, however, stood motionless +where he was on the roof, till his Father's anger had stilled itself, +and pardon was promised him.'—Here farther is a vague anecdote made +authentic: 'Another time the little fellow was not to be found at the +evening meal, while, withal, there was a heavy thunderstorm in the +sky, and fiery bolts were blazing through the black clouds. He was +searched for in vain, all over the house; and at every new +thunder-clap the misery of his Parents increased. At last they found +him, not far from the house, on the top of the highest lime-tree, +which he was just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> preparing to descend, under the crashing of a very +loud peal. "In God's name, what hast thou been doing there?" cried the +agitated Father. "I wanted to know," answered Fritz, "where all that +fire in the sky was coming from!"</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'Three full years the Schiller Family lived at Lorch; and this in +rather narrow circumstances, as the Father, though in the service of +his Prince, could not, during the whole of this time, receive the +smallest part of his pay, but had to live on the little savings he had +made during War-time. Not till 1768, after the most impressive +petitioning to the Duke, was he at last called away from his post of +Recruiting Officer, and transferred to the Garrison of Ludwigsburg, +where he, by little and little, squeezed out the pay owing him.</p> + +<p>'Upon his removal, the Father's first care was to establish his little +Boy, now nine years old,—who, stirred-on probably by the impressions +he had got in the Parsonage at Lorch, and the visible wish of his +Parents, had decided for the Clerical Profession,—in the Latin school +at Ludwigsburg. This done, he made it his chief care that his Son's +progress should be swift and satisfying there. But on that side, Fritz +could never come up to his expectations, though the Teachers were well +enough contented. But out of school-time, Fritz was not so zealous and +diligent as could be wished; liked rather to spring about and sport in +the garden. The arid, stony, philological instruction of his teacher, +Johann Friedrich Jahn, who was a solid Latiner, and nothing more, was +not calculated to make a specially alluring impression on the clever +and lively Boy; thus it was nothing but the reverence and awe of his +Father that could drive him on to diligence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>'To this time belongs the oldest completely preserved Poem of +Schiller's; it is in the form of a little Hymn, in which, on +New-year's day 1769, the Boy, now hardly over nine years old, presents +to his Parents the wishes of the season. It may stand here by way of +glimpse into the position of the Son towards his Parents, especially +towards his Father.</p> + + +<p style="padding-left: 5em"><span class="smcap">Much-loved Parents.</span><a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Parents, whom I lovingly honour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Today my heart is full of thankfulness!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Year may a gracious God increase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is at all times your support!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lord, the Fountain of all joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remain always your comfort and portion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Word be the nourishment of your heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Jesus your wished-for salvation.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I thank you for all your proofs of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all your care and patience;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart shall praise all your goodness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever comfort itself in your favour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Obedience, diligence and tender love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I promise you for this Year.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God send me only good inclinations,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make true all my wishes! Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="font-size: 90%">1 January 1769. <span class="smcap" style="padding-left: 8em">Johann Friedrich Schiller.</span></p> + + +<p>'According to the pious wish of their Son, this year, 1769, did bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +somewhat which "comforted" them. Captain Schiller, from of old a lover +of rural occupations, and skilful in gardening and nursery affairs, +had, at Ludwigsburg, laid-out for himself a little Nursery. It was +managed on the same principles which he afterwards made public in his +Book, <i>Die Baumzucht im Grossen</i> (Neustrelitz, 1795, and second +edition, Giessen, 1806); and was prospering beautifully. The Duke, who +had noticed this, signified satisfaction in the thing; and he +appointed him, in 1770, to shift to his beautiful Forest-Castle, Die +Solitüde, near Stuttgart, as overseer of all his Forest operations +there. Hereby to the active man was one of his dearest wishes +fulfilled; and a sphere of activity opened, corresponding to his +acquirements and his inclination. At Solitüde, by the Duke's order, he +laid-out a Model Nursery for all Würtemberg, which he managed with +perfect care and fidelity; and in this post he so completely satisfied +the expectations entertained of him, that his Prince by and by raised +him to the rank of Major.' He is reckoned to have raised from seeds, +and successfully planted, 60,000 trees, in discharge <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>of this +function, which continued for the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>'His Family, which already at Lorch, in 1766, had been increased by +the birth of a Daughter, Luise, waited but a short time in Ludwigsburg +till the Father brought them over to the new dwelling at Solitüde. +Fritz, on the removal of his Parents, was given over as boarder to his +actual Teacher, the rigorous pedant Jahn; and remained yet two years +at the Latin school in Ludwigsburg. During this time, the lively, and +perhaps also sometimes mischievous Boy, was kept in the strictest +fetters; and, by the continual admonitions, exhortations, and manually +practical corrections of Father and of Teacher, not a little held down +and kept in fear. The fact, for instance, that he liked more the +potent Bible-words and pious songs of a Luther, a Paul Gerhard, and +Gellert, than he did the frozen lifeless catechism-drill of the +Ludwigsburg Institute, gave surly strait-laced Jahn occasion to lament +from time to time to the alarmed Parents, that "their Son had no +feeling whatever for religion." In this respect, however, the +otherwise so irritable Father easily satisfied himself, not only by +his own observations of an opposite tendency, but chiefly by stricter +investigation of one little incident that was reported to him. The +teacher of religion in the Latin school, Superintendent Zilling, whose +name is yet scornfully remembered, had once, in his dull awkwardness, +introduced even Solomon's Song as an element of nurture for his class; +and was droning out, in an old-fashioned way, his interpretation of it +as symbolical of the Christian Church and its Bridegroom Christ, when +he was, on the sudden, to his no small surprise and anger, interrupted +by the audible inquiry of little Schiller, "But was this Song,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> then, +actually sung to the Church?" Schiller Senior took the little heretic +to task for this rash act; and got as justification the innocent +question, "Has the Church really got teeth of ivory?" The Father was +enlightened enough to take the Boy's opposition for a natural +expression of sound human sense; nay, he could scarcely forbear a +laugh; whirled swiftly round, and murmured to himself, "Occasionally +she has Wolf's teeth." And so the thing was finished.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></p> + +<p>'At Ludwigsburg Schiller and Christophine first saw a Theatre; where +at that time, in the sumptuous Duke's love of splendour, only pompous +operas and ballets were given. The first effect of this new enjoyment, +which Fritz and his Sister strove to repeat as often as they could, +was that at home, with little clipped and twisted paper dolls, they +set about representing scenes; and on Christophine's part it had the +more important result of awakening and nourishing, at an early age, +her æsthetic taste. Schiller considered her, ever after these youthful +sports, as a true and faithful companion in his poetic dreams and +attempts; and constantly not only told his Sister, whose silence on +such points could be perfect, of all that he secretly did in the way +of verse-making in the Karl's School,—which, as we shall see, he +entered in 1773,—but if possible brought it upon the scene with her. +Scenes from the lyrical operetta of <i>Semele</i> were acted by Schiller +and Christophine, on those terms; which appears in a complete shape +for the first time in Schiller's <i>Anthology</i>, printed 1782.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'So soon as Friedrich had gone through the Latin school at +Ludwigsburg, which was in 1772, he was, according to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>the standing +regulation, to enter one of the four Lower Cloister-schools; and go +through the farther curriculum for a Würtemberg clergyman. But now +there came suddenly from the Duke to Captain Schiller an offer to take +his Son, who had been represented to him as a clever boy, into the new +Military Training-School, founded by his Highness at Solitüde, in +1771; where he would be brought up, and taken charge of, free of cost.</p> + +<p>'In the Schiller Family this offer caused great consternation and +painful embarrassment. The Father was grieved to be obliged to +sacrifice a long-cherished paternal plan to the whim of an arbitrary +ruler; and the Son felt himself cruelly hurt to be torn away so rudely +from his hope and inclination. Accordingly, how dangerous soever for +the position of the Family a declining of the Ducal grace might seem, +the straightforward Father ventured nevertheless to lay open to the +Duke, in a clear and distinct statement, how his purpose had always +been to devote his Son, in respect both of his inclination and his +hitherto studies, to the Clerical Profession; for which in the new +Training-School he could not be prepared. The Duke showed no anger at +this step of the elder Schiller's; but was just as little of intention +to let a capable and hopeful scholar, who was also the Son of one of +his Officers and Dependents, escape him. He simply, with brevity, +repeated his wish, and required the choice of another study, in which +the Boy would have a better career and outlook than in the Theological +Department. Nill they, will they, there was nothing for the Parents +but compliance with the so plainly intimated will of this Duke, on +whom their Family's welfare so much depended.</p> + +<p>'Accordingly, 17th January 1773, Friedrich Schiller, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> in his +fourteenth year, stept over to the Military Training-School at +Solitüde.</p> + +<p>'In September of the following year, Schiller's Parents had, +conformably to a fundamental law of the Institution, to acknowledge +and engage by a written Bond, "That their Son, in virtue of his +entrance into this Ducal Institution, did wholly devote himself to the +service of the Würtemberg Ducal House; that he, without special Ducal +permission, was not empowered to go out of it; and that he had, with +his best care, to observe not only this, but all other regulations of +the Institute." By this time, indeed directly upon signature of this +strict Bond, young Schiller had begun to study Jurisprudence;—which, +however, when next year, 1775, the Training-School, raised now to be a +"Military Academy," had been transferred to Stuttgart, he either of +his own accord, or in consequence of a discourse and interview of the +Duke with his Father, exchanged for the Study of Medicine.</p> + +<p>'From the time when Schiller entered this "Karl's School"' (Military +Academy, in official style), 'he was nearly altogether withdrawn from +any tutelage of his Father; for it was only to Mothers, and to Sisters +still under age, that the privilege of visiting their Sons and +Brothers, and this on the Sunday only, was granted: beyond this, the +Karl's Scholars, within their monastic cells, were cut off from family +and the world, by iron-doors and sentries guarding them. This rigorous +seclusion from actual life and all its friendly impressions, still +more the spiritual constraint of the Institution, excluding every free +activity, and all will of your own, appeared to the Son in a more +hateful light than to the Father, who, himself an old soldier, found +it quite according to order that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> the young people should be kept in +strict military discipline and subordination. What filled the Son with +bitter discontent and indignation, and at length brought him to a kind +of poetic outburst of revolution in the <i>Robbers</i>, therein the Father +saw only a wholesome regularity, and indispensable substitute for +paternal discipline. Transient complaints of individual teachers and +superiors little disturbed the Father's mind; for, on the whole, the +official testimonies concerning his Son were steadily favourable. The +Duke too treated young Schiller, whose talents had not escaped his +sharpness of insight, with particular goodwill, nay distinction. To +this Prince, used to the accurate discernment of spiritual gifts, the +complaints of certain Teachers, that Schiller's slow progress in +Jurisprudence proceeded from want of head, were of no weight whatever; +and he answered expressly, "Leave me that one alone; he will come to +something yet!" But that Schiller gave his main strength to what in +the Karl's School was a strictly forbidden object, to poetry namely, +this I believe was entirely hidden from his Father, or appeared to +him, on occasional small indications, the less questionable, as he saw +that, in spite of this, the Marketable-Sciences were not neglected.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'At the same age, viz. about twenty-two, at which Captain Schiller had +made his first military sally into the Netherlands and the +Austrian-Succession War, his Son issued from the Karl's School, 15th +December 1780; and was immediately appointed Regimental-Doctor at +Stuttgart; with a monthly pay of twenty-three gulden' (<i>2l. 6s.=11s.</i> +and a fraction per week). 'With this appointment, Schiller had, as it +were, openly altogether outgrown all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> special paternal guardianship or +guidance; and was, from this time, treated by his Father as come to +majority, and standing on his own feet. If he came out, as frequently +happened, with a comrade to Solitüde, he was heartily welcome there, +and the Father's looks often dwelt on him with visible satisfaction. +If in the conscientious and rigorous old man, with his instructive and +serious experiences of life, there might yet various anxieties and +doubts arise when he heard of the exuberantly genial ways of his +hopeful Son at Stuttgart, he still looked upon him with joyful pride, +in remarking how those so promising Karl's Scholars, who had entered +into the world along with him, recognised his superiority of mind, and +willingly ranked themselves under him. Nor could it be otherwise than +highly gratifying to his old heart to remark always with what deep +love the gifted Son constantly regarded his Parents and +Sisters.'<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a>—Of Schiller's first procedures in Stuttgart, after his +emancipation from the Karl's School, and appointment as +Regimental-Surgeon, or rather of his general behaviour and way of life +there, which are said to have been somewhat wild, genially, or even +<i>un</i>genially extravagant, and to have involved him in many paltry +entanglements of debts, as one bad consequence,—there will be some +notice in the next Section, headed "<i>The Mother</i>." His Regimental +Doctorship, and stay in Stuttgart altogether, lasted twenty-two +months.</p> + +<p>This is Schiller's bodily appearance, as it first presented itself to +an old School-fellow, who, after an interval of eighteen months, saw +him again on Parade, as Doctor of the Regiment Augé,—more to his +astonishment than admiration.</p> + +<p>'Crushed into the stiff tasteless Old-Prussian Uniform;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> on each of +his temples three stiff rolls as if done with gypsum; the tiny +three-cocked hat scarcely covering his crown; so much the thicker the +long pigtail, with the slender neck crammed into a very narrow +horsehair stock; the felt put under the white spatterdashes, smirched +by traces of shoe-blacking, giving to the legs a bigger diameter than +the thighs, squeezed into their tight-fitting breeches, could boast +of. Hardly, or not at all, able to bend his knees, the whole man moved +like a stork.'</p> + +<p>'The Poet's form,' says this Witness elsewhere, a bit of a dilettante +artist it seems, 'had somewhat the following appearance: Long straight +stature; long in the legs, long in the arms; pigeon-breasted; his neck +very long; something rigorously stiff; in gait and carriage not the +smallest elegance. His brow was broad; the nose thin, cartilaginous, +white of colour, springing out at a notably sharp angle, much bent,—a +parrot-nose, and very sharp in the point (according to Dannecker the +Sculptor, Schiller, who took snuff, had pulled it out so with his +hand). The red eyebrows, over the deep-lying dark-gray eyes, were bent +too close together at the nose, which gave him a pathetic expression. +The lips were thin, energetic; the under-lip protruding, as if pushed +forward by the inspiration of his feelings; the chin strong; cheeks +pale, rather hollow than full, freckly; the eyelids a little inflamed; +the bushy hair of the head dark red; the whole head rather ghostlike +than manlike, but impressive even in repose, and all expression when +Schiller declaimed. Neither the features nor the somewhat shrieky +voice could he subdue. Dannecker,' adds the satirical Witness, 'has +unsurpassably cut this head in marble for us.'<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></a></p> + +<p>'The publication of the <i>Robbers</i>' (Autumn 1781),—'which Schiller, +driven on by rage and desperation, had composed in the fetters of the +Karl's School,—raised him on the sudden to a phenomenon on which all +eyes in Stuttgart were turned. What, with careless exaggeration, he +had said to a friend some months before, on setting forth his <i>Elegy +on the Death of a Young Man</i>, "The thing has made my name hereabouts +more famous than twenty years of practice would have done; but it is a +name like that of him who burnt the Temple of Ephesus: God be merciful +to me a sinner!" might now with all seriousness be said of the +impression his <i>Robbers</i> made on the harmless townsfolk of Stuttgart. +But how did Father Schiller at first take up this eccentric product of +his Son, which openly declared war on all existing order? Astonishment +and terror, anger and detestation, boundless anxiety, with touches of +admiration and pride, stormed alternately through the solid honest +man's paternal breast, as he saw the frank picture of a Prodigal Son +rolled out before him; and had to gaze into the most revolting deeps +of the passions and vices. Yet he felt himself irresistibly dragged +along by the uncommon vivacity of action in this wild Drama; and at +the same time powerfully attracted by the depth, the tenderness and +fulness of true feeling manifested in it: so that, at last, out of +those contradictory emotions of his, a clear admiration and pride for +his Son's bold and rich spirit maintained the upper hand. By +Schiller's friends and closer connections, especially by his Mother +and Sisters, all pains were of course taken to keep up this favourable +humour in the Father, and carefully to hide from him all +disadvantageous or disquieting tidings about the Piece and its +consequences and practical effects. Thus he heard suffi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>ciently of the +huge excitement and noise which the <i>Robbers</i> was making all over +Germany, and of the seductive approval which came streaming-in on the +youthful Poet, even out of distant provinces; but heard nothing either +of the Duke's offended and angry feelings over the <i>Robbers</i>, a +production horrible to him; nor of the Son's secret journeys to +Mannheim, and the next consequences of these' (his brief arrest, +namely), 'nor of the rumour circulating in spiteful quarters, that +this young Doctor was neglecting his own province of medicine, and +meaning to become a play-actor. How could the old man, in these +circumstances, have a thought that the <i>Robbers</i> would be the loss of +Family and Country to his poor Fritz! And yet so it proved.</p> + +<p>'Excited by all kinds of messagings, informings and insinuations, the +imperious Prince, in spite of his secret pleasure in this sudden +renown of his Pupil, could in no wise be persuaded to revoke or soften +his harsh Order, which "forbade the Poet henceforth, under pain of +military imprisonment, either to write anything poetic or to +communicate the same to foreign persons"' (non-Würtembergers). In vain +were all attempts of Schiller to obtain his discharge from Military +Service and his "<i>Entschwäbung</i>" (Un-<i>Swabian</i>-ing); such petitions +had only for result new sharper rebukes and hard threatening +expressions, to which the mournful fate of Schubart in the Castle of +Hohenasperg<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> formed a too questionable background.</p> + +<p>'Thus by degrees there ripened in the strong soul of this young man +the determination to burst these laming fetters of his genius, by +flight from despotic Würtemberg altogether; and, in some friendlier +country, gain for himself the freedom without which his spiritual +development was impossible. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>Only to one friend, who clung to him with +almost enthusiastic devotion, did he impart his secret. This was +Johann Andreas Streicher of Stuttgart, who intended to go next year to +Hamburg, and there, under Bach's guidance, study music; but declared +himself ready to accompany Schiller even now, since it had become +urgent. Except to this trustworthy friend, Schiller had imparted his +plan to his elder Sister Christophine alone; and she had not only +approved of the sad measure, but had undertaken also to prepare their +Mother for it. The Father naturally had to be kept dark on the +subject; all the more that, if need were, he might pledge his word as +an Officer that he had known nothing of his Son's intention.</p> + +<p>'Schiller went out, in company of Madam Meier, Wife of the <i>Regisseur</i> +(Theatre-manager) at Mannheim, a native of Stuttgart, and of this +Streicher, one last time to Solitüde, to have one more look of it and +of his dear ones there; especially to soothe and calm his Mother. On +the way, which they travelled on foot, Schiller kept up a continual +discourse about the Mannheim Theatre and its interests, without +betraying his secret to Madam Meier. The Father received these welcome +guests with frank joy; and gave to the conversation, which at first +hung rather embarrassed, a happy turn by getting into talk, with +cheery circumstantiality, of the grand Pleasure-Hunt, of the Play and +of the Illumination, which were to take place, in honour of the +Russian Grand-Prince, afterwards Czar Paul, and his Bride, the Duke of +Würtemberg's Niece, on the 17th September instant, at Solitüde. Far +other was the poor Mother's mood; she was on the edge of betraying +herself, in seeing the sad eyes of her Son; and she could not speak +for emotion. The presence of Streicher and a Stranger with whom the +elder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> Schiller was carrying on a, to him, attractive conversation, +permitted Mother and Son to withdraw speedily and unremarked. Not till +after an hour did Schiller reappear, alone now, to the company; +neither this circumstance, nor Schiller's expression of face, yet +striking the preoccupied Father. Though to the observant Streicher, +his wet red eyes betrayed how painful the parting must have been. +Gradually on the way back to Stuttgart, amid general talk of the +three, Schiller regained some composure and cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>'The bitter sorrow of this hour of parting renewed itself yet once in +Schiller's soul, when on the flight itself, about midnight of the +17th. In effect it was these same festivities that had decided the +young men's time and scheme of journey; and under the sheltering noise +of which their plan was luckily executed. Towards midnight of the +above-said day, when the Castle of Solitüde, with all its +surroundings, was beaming in full splendour of illumination, there +rolled past, almost rubbing elbows with it, the humble Schiller +Vehicle from Stuttgart, which bore the fugitive Poet with his true +Friend on their way. Schiller pointed out to his Friend the spot where +his Parents lived, and, with a half-suppressed sigh and a woe-begone +exclamation, "Oh, my Mother!" sank back upon his seat.'</p> + +<p>Mannheim, the goal of their flight, is in Baden-Baden, under another +Sovereign; lies about 80 miles to <small>N.W.</small> of Stuttgart. Their dreary +journey lasted two days,—arrival not till deep in the night of the +second. Their united stock of money amounted to 51 gulden,—Schiller +23, Streicher 28,—5<i>l.</i> 6<i>s.</i> in all. Streicher subsequently squeezed +out from home 3<i>l.</i> more; and that appears to have been their +sum-total.<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> + +<p>'Great was the astonishment and great the wrath of the Father, when at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +length he understood that his Son had broken the paternal, written +Bond, and withdrawn himself by flight from the Ducal Service. He +dreaded, not without reason, the heavy consequences of so rash an +action; and a thousand gnawing anxieties bestormed the heart of the +worthy man. Might not the Duke, in the first outburst of his +indignation, overwhelm forever the happiness of their Family, which +there was nothing but the income of his post that supported in humble +competence? And what a lot stood before the Son himself, if he were +caught in flight, or if, what was nowise improbable, his delivery back +was required and obtained? Sure enough, there had risen on the +otherwise serene heaven of the Schiller Family a threatening +thundercloud; which, any day, might discharge itself, bringing +destruction on their heads.</p> + +<p>'The thing, however, passed away in merciful peace. Whatever may have +been the Duke's motives or inducements to let the matter, in spite of +his embitterment, silently drop,—whether his bright festal humour in +presence of those high kinsfolk, or the noble frankness with which the +Runaway first of all, to save his Family, had in a respectful missive, +dated from Mannheim, explained to his Princely Educator the necessity +of his flight; or the expectation, flattering to the Ducal pride, that +the future greatness of his Pupil might be a source of glory to him +and his Karl's-School: enough, on his part, there took place no kind +of hostile step against the Poet, and still less against his Family. +Captain Schiller again breathed freer when he saw himself delivered +from his most crushing anxiety on this side; but there remained still +a sharp sting in his wounded heart. His military feeling of honour was +painfully hurt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> by the thought that they might now look upon his Son +as a deserter; and withal the future of this voluntary Exile appeared +so uncertain and wavering, that it did not offer the smallest +justification of so great a risk. By degrees, however, instead of +anger and blame there rose in him the most sympathetic anxiety for the +poor Son's fate; to whom, from want of a free, firm and assuring +position in life, all manner of contradictions and difficulties must +needs arise.</p> + +<p>'And Schiller did actually, at Mannheim, find himself in a bad and +difficult position. The Superintendent of the celebrated Mannheim +Theatre, the greatly powerful Imperial Baron von Dalberg, with whom +Schiller, since the bringing out of his <i>Robbers</i>, had stood in lively +correspondence, drew back when Schiller himself was here; and kept the +Poet at a distance as a political Fugitive; leaving him to shift as he +could. In vain had Schiller explained to him, in manly open words, his +economic straits, and begged from him a loan of 300 gulden' (30<i>l.</i>) +'to pay therewith a pressing debt in Stuttgart, and drag himself +along, and try to get started in the world. Dalberg returned the +<i>Fiesco</i>, Schiller's new republican Tragedy, which had been sent him, +with the declaration that he could advance no money on the <i>Fiesco</i> in +its present form; the Piece must first be remodelled to suit the +stage. During this remodelling, which the otherwise so passionately +vivid and hopeful Poet began without murmur, he lived entirely on the +journey-money that had been saved up by the faithful Streicher, who +would on no account leave him.'</p> + +<p>What became of this good Streicher afterwards, I have inquired +considerably, but with very little success. On the total exhaustion of +their finance, Schiller and he had to part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> company,—Schiller for +refuge at Bauerbach, as will soon be seen. Streicher continued about +Mannheim, not as Schiller's fellow-lodger any longer, but always at +his hand, passionately eager to serve him with all his faculties by +night or by day; and they did not part finally till Schiller quitted +Mannheim, two years hence, for Leipzig. After which they never met +again. Streicher, in Mannheim, seems to have subsisted by his musical +talent; and to have had some connection with the theatre in that +capacity. In similar dim positions, with what shiftings, adventures +and vicissitudes is quite unknown to me, he long survived Schiller, +and, at least fifty years after these Mannheim struggles, wrote some +Book of bright and loving Reminiscences concerning him, the exact +<i>title</i> of which I can nowhere find,—though passages from it are +copied by Biographer Schwab here and there. His affection for Schiller +is of the nature of worship rather, of constant adoration; and +probably formed the sunshine to poor Streicher's life. Schiller +nowhere mentions him in his writings or correspondences, after that +final parting at Mannheim, 1784.</p> + +<p>'The necessities of the two Friends reached by and by such a height +that Schiller had to sell his Watch, although they had already for +several weeks been subsisting on loans. To all which now came +Dalberg's overwhelming message, that even this Remodelling of <i>Fiesco</i> +could not be serviceable; and of course could not have money paid for +it. Schiller thereupon, at once resolute what to do, walked off to the +worthy Bookseller Schwann,' with whom he was already on a trustful, +even grateful footing; 'and sold him his <span class="smcap">MS</span>. at one louis-d'or the +sheet. At the same time, too, he recognised the necessity of quitting +Mannheim, and finding a new asylum in Saxony; seeing, withal, his +farther<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> continuance here might be as dangerous for him as it was a +matter of apprehension to his Friends. For although the Duke of +Würtemberg undertook nothing that was hostile to him, and his Family +at Solitüde experienced no annoyance, yet the impetuous Prince might, +any day, take it into his head to have him put in prison. In the ever +livelier desire after a securely-hidden place of abode, where he might +execute in peace his poetic plans and enterprises, Schiller suddenly +took up an earlier purpose, which had been laid aside.</p> + +<p>'In the Stuttgart time he had known Wilhelm von Wolzogen, by and by +his Brother-in-law' (they married two sisters), 'who, with three +Brothers, had been bred in the Karl's School. The two had, indeed, +during the academic time, Wolzogen being some years younger, had few +points of contact, and were not intimate. But now on the appearance of +the <i>Robbers</i>, Wolzogen took a cordial affection and enthusiasm for +the widely-celebrated Poet, and on closer acquaintance with Schiller, +also affected his Mother,—who, as Widow, for her three Sons' sake, +lived frequently at Stuttgart,—with a deep and zealous sympathy in +Schiller's fate. Schiller had, with a truly childlike trust, confided +himself to this excellent Lady, and after his Arrest,—a bitter +consequence of his secret visit to Mannheim,—had confessed to her his +purpose to run away. Frau von Wolzogen, who feared no sacrifice when +the question was of the fortune of her friends, had then offered him +her family mansion, Bauerbach, near Meiningen, as a place of refuge. +Schiller's notion had also been to fly thither; though, deceived by +false hopes, he changed that purpose. He now wrote at once to +Stuttgart, and announced to Frau von Wolzogen his wish to withdraw +for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> 'some time to Bauerbach.' To which, as is well known, the assent +was ready and zealous.</p> + +<p>'Before quitting Mannheim, Schiller could not resist the longing wish, +to see his Parents yet one time; and wrote to them accordingly, 19 +Nov. 1782, in visible haste and excitement:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Best Parents,—As I am at present in Mannheim, and am to go +away forever in five days, I wished to prepare for myself +and you the one remaining satisfaction of seeing one another +once more. Today is the 19th, on the 21st you receive this +Letter;—if you therefore, without the least delay (that is +indispensable), leave Stuttgart, you might on the 22d be at +the Post-house in Bretten, which is about half way from +Mannheim, and where you would find me. I think it would be +best if Mamma and Christophine, under the pretext of going +to Ludwigsburg to Wolzogen, should make this journey. Take +the Frau Vischerin" (a Captain's Widow, sung of under the +name of "Laura," with whom he had last lodged in Stuttgart) +"and also Wolzogen with you, as I wish to speak with both of +them, perhaps for the last time, Wolzogen excepted. I will +give you a Karolin as journey-money; but not till I see you +at Bretten. By the prompt fulfilment of my Prayer, I will +perceive whether is still dear to you,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 6em">Your ever-grateful Son,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"><span class="smcap">Schiller</span>."'</p> + +</div> + +<p>From Mannheim, Bauerbach or Meiningen lies about 120 miles <small>N.E.</small>; and +from Stuttgart almost as far straight North. Bretten, 'a little town +on a hill, celebrated as Melancthon's Birthplace, his Father's house +still standing there,' is some 35 miles <small>S.E.</small> of Mannheim, and as far +<small>N.W.</small> from Stuttgart. From Mannheim, in this wise, it is not at all on +the road to Meiningen, though only a few miles more remote in direct +distance. Schiller's purpose had been, after this affectionate +interview, to turn at once leftward and make for Mein<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>ingen, by what +road or roads there were from Bretten thither. Schiller's poor guinea +(Karolin) was not needed on this occasion; the rendezvous at Bretten +being found impossible or inexpedient at the Stuttgart end of it. Our +Author continues:</p> + +<p>'Although this meeting, on which the loving Son and Brother wished to +spend his last penny, did not take effect; yet this mournful longing +of his, evident from the Letter, and from the purpose itself, must +have touched the Father's heart with somewhat of a reconciliatory +feeling. Schiller Senior writes accordingly, 8 December 1782, the very +day after his Son's arrival at Bauerbach, to Bookseller Schwan in +Mannheim: "I have not noticed here the smallest symptom that his Ducal +Durchlaucht has any thought of having my Son searched for and +prosecuted; and indeed his post here has long since been filled up; a +circumstance which visibly indicates that they can do without him." +This Letter to Schwan concludes in the following words, which are +characteristic: "He (my Son) has, by his untimely withdrawal, against +the advice of his true friends, plunged himself into this difficult +position; and it will profit him in soul and body that he feel the +pain of it, and thereby become wiser for the future. I am not afraid, +however, that want of actual necessaries should come upon him, for in +such case I should feel myself obliged to lend a hand."</p> + +<p>'And in effect Schiller, during his abode in Bauerbach, did once or +twice receive little subventions of money from his Father, although +never without earnest and not superfluous admonition to become more +frugal, and take better heed in laying-out his money. For economics +were, by Schiller's own confession, "not at all his talent; it cost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +him less," he says, "to execute a whole conspiracy and tragedy-plot +than to adjust his scheme of housekeeping."—At this time it was never +the Father himself who wrote to Schiller, but always Christophine, by +his commission; and on the other hand, Schiller too never risked +writing directly to his Father, as he felt but too well how little on +his part had been done to justify the flight in his Father's eyes. He +writes accordingly, likewise on that 8th December 1782, to his +Publisher Schwan: "If you can accelerate the printing of my <i>Fiesco</i>, +you will very much oblige me by doing so. You know that nothing but +the prohibition to become an Author drove me out of the Würtemberg +service. If I now, on this side, don't soon let my native country hear +of me, they will say the step I took was useless and without real +motive."</p> + +<p>'In Bauerbach Schiller lived about eight months, under the name of +Doctor Ritter, unknown to everybody; and only the Court-Librarian, +Reinwald, in Meiningen, afterwards his Brother-in-law,' as we shall +see, 'in whom he found a solid friend, had been trusted by Frau von +Wolzogen with the name and true situation of the mysterious stranger. +The most of Schiller's time here was spent in dramatic labours, +enterprises and dreams. The outcome of all these were his third civic +Tragedy, <i>Louise Miller</i>, or <i>Kabale und Liebe</i>, which was finished in +February 1783, and the settling on <i>Don Carlos</i> as a new tragic +subject. Many reasons, meanwhile, in the last eight months, had been +pushing Schiller into the determination to leave his asylum, and anew +turn towards Mannheim. A passionate, though unreturned attachment to +Charlotte von Wolzogen at that time filled Schiller's soul; and his +removal therefore must both to Frau von Wolzogen for her own and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +Daughter's sake, and to Schiller himself, have appeared desirable. It +was Frau von Wolzogen's own advice to him to go for a short time to +Mannheim, there to get into clear terms with Dalberg, who had again +begun corresponding with him: so, in July 1783, Schiller bade his +solitary, and, by this time dear and loved, abode a hasty adieu; and, +much contrary to fond hope, never saw it again.</p> + +<p>'In September 1783, his bargainings with Dalberg had come to this +result, That for a fixed salary of 500 gulden,' 50<i>l.</i> a year, 'he was +appointed Theatre-Poet here. By this means, to use his own words, the +way was open to him gradually to pay-off a considerable portion of his +debts, and so escape from the drowning whirlpool, and remain an honest +man. Now, furthermore, he thought it permissible to show himself to +his Family with a certain composure of attitude; and opened +straightway a regular correspondence with his Parents again. And +Captain Schiller volunteers a stiff-starched but true and earnest +Letter to the Baron Dalberg himself; most humbly thanking that +gracious nobleman for such beneficent favour shown my poor Son; and +begs withal the far stranger favour that Dalberg would have the +extreme goodness to appoint the then inexperienced young man some true +friend who might help him to arrange his housekeeping, and in moral +things might be his Mentor!</p> + +<p>'Soon after this, an intermittent fever threw the Poet on a sick-bed; +and lamed him above five weeks from all capacity of mental labour. Not +even in June of the following year was the disease quite overcome. +Visits, acquaintanceships, all kinds of amusements, and more than +anything else, over-hasty attempts at work, delayed his cure;—so that +his Father had a perfect right to bring before him his,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> Schiller's, +own blame in the matter: "That thou"' (<i>Er</i>, He; the then usual tone +towards servants and children) '"for eight whole months hast weltered +about with intermittent fever, surely that does little honour to thy +study of medicine; and thou wouldst, with great justice, have poured +the bitterest reproaches on any Patient who, in a case like thine, had +not held himself to the diet and regimen that were prescribed to +him!"—</p> + +<p>'In Autumn 1783, there seized Schiller so irresistible a longing to +see his kindred again, that he repeatedly expressed to his Father the +great wish he had for a meeting, either at Mannheim or some other +place outside the Würtemberg borders. To the fulfilment of this scheme +there were, however, in the sickness which his Mother had fallen into, +in the fettered position of the Father, and in the rigorously frugal +economies of the Family, insuperable obstacles. Whereupon his Father +made him the proposal, that he, Friedrich, either himself or by him, +the Captain, should apply to the Duke Karl's Serene Highness; and +petition him for permission to return to his country and kindred. As +Schiller to this answered nothing, Christophine time after time +pressingly repeated to him the Father's proposal. At the risk of again +angering his Father, Schiller gave, in his answer to Christophine, of +1st January 1784, the decisive declaration that his honour would +frightfully suffer if he, without connection with any other Prince, +without character and lasting means of support, after his forceful +withdrawal from Würtemberg, should again show face there. "That my +Father," adds he, as ground of this refusal, "give his name to such a +petition can help me little; for every one will at once, so long as I +cannot make it plain that I no longer need the Duke of Würtemberg, +suspect in a re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>turn, obtained on petition (by myself or by another is +all one), a desire to get settled in Würtemberg again. Sister, +consider with serious attention these circumstances; for the happiness +of thy Brother may, by rash haste in this matter, suffer an incurable +wound. Great part of Germany knows of my relations to your Duke and of +the way I left him. People have interested themselves for me at the +expense of this Duke; how horribly would the respect of the public +(and on this depends my whole future fortune), how miserably would my +own honour sink by the suspicion that I had sought this return; that +my circumstances had forced me to repent my former step; that the +support which I had sought in the wide world had misgone, and I was +seeking it anew in my Birthland! The open manlike boldness, which I +showed in my forceful withdrawal, would get the name of a childish +outburst of mutiny, a stupid bit of impotent bluster, if I do not make +it good. Love for my dear ones, longing for my Fatherland might +perhaps excuse me in the heart of this or the other candid man; but +the world makes no account of all that.</p> + +<p>"For the rest, if my Father is determined to do it, I cannot hinder +him; only this I say to thee, Sister, that in case even the Duke would +permit it, I will not show myself on Würtemberg ground till I have at +least a character (for which object I shall zealously labour); and +that in case the Duke refuses, I shall not be able to restrain myself +from avenging the affront thereby put upon me by open fooleries +(<i>sottisen</i>) and expressions of myself in print."</p> + +<p>'The intended Petition to the Duke was not drawn out,—and Father +Schiller overcame his anger on the matter; as, on closer consideration +of the Son's aversion to this step, he could not wholly disapprove +him. Yet he did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> hide from Schiller Junior the steadfast wish that +he would in some way or other try to draw near to the Duke; at any +rate he, Father Schiller, "hoped to God that their parting would not +last forever; and that, in fine, he might still live to see his only +Son near him again."</p> + +<p>'In Mannheim Schiller's financial position, in spite of his earnest +purpose to manage wisely, grew by degrees worse rather than better. +Owing to the many little expenses laid upon him by his connections in +society, his income would not suffice; and the cash-box was not seldom +run so low that he had not wherewithal to support himself next day. Of +assistance from home, with the rigorous income of his Father, which +scarcely amounted to 40<i>l.</i> a year, there could nothing be expected; +and over and above, the Father himself had, in this respect, very +clearly spoken his mind. "Parents and Sisters," said Schiller Senior, +"have as just a right as they have a confidence, in cases of +necessity, to expect help and support from a Son." To fill to +overflowing the measure of the Poet's economical distress, there now +stept forth suddenly some secret creditors of his in Stuttgart, +demanding immediate payment. Whereupon, in quick succession, there +came to Captain Schiller, to his great terror, two drafts from the +Son, requiring of him, the one 10<i>l.</i>, the other 5<i>l.</i> The Captain, +after stern reflection, determined at last to be good for both +demands; but wrote to the Son that he only did so in order that his, +the Son's, labour might not be disturbed; and in the confident +anticipation that the Son, regardful of his poor Sisters and their bit +of portion, would not leave him in the lurch.</p> + +<p>'But Schiller, whom still other debts in Stuttgart, unknown to his +Father, were pressing hard, could only repay the smaller of these +drafts; and thus the worthy Father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> saw himself compelled to pay the +larger, the 10<i>l.</i>, out of the savings he had made for outfit of his +Daughters. Whereupon, as was not undeserved, he took his Son tightly +to task, and wrote to him: "As long as thou, my Son, shalt make thy +reckoning on resources that are still to come, and therefore are still +subject to chance and mischance, so long wilt thou continue in thy +mess of embarrassments. Furthermore, as long as thou thinkest, This +gulden or batzen (shilling or farthing) can't help me to get over it; +so long will thy debts become never the smaller: and, what were a +sorrow to me, thou wilt not be able, after a heavy labour of head got +done, to recreate thyself in the society of other good men. But, +withal, to make recreation-days of that kind more numerous than +work-days, that surely will not turn out well. Best Son, thy abode in +Bauerbach has been of that latter kind. <i>Hinc illæ lacrymæ!</i> For these +thou art now suffering, and that not by accident. The embarrassment +thou now art in is verily a work of Higher Providence, to lead thee +off from too great trust in thy own force; to make thee soft and +contrite; that, laying aside all self-will, thou mayest follow more +the counsel of thy Father and other true friends; must meet every one +with due respectful courtesy and readiness to oblige; and become ever +more convinced that our most gracious Duke, in his restrictive plans, +meant well with thee; and that altogether thy position and outlooks +had now been better, hadst thou complied, and continued in thy +country. Many a time I find thou hast wayward humours, that make thee +to thy truest friend scarcely endurable; stiff ways which repel the +best-wishing man;—for example, when I sent thee my excellent old +friend Herr Amtmann Cramer from Altdorf near Speier, who had come to +Herr Hofrath Schwan's in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> the end of last year, thy reception of him +was altogether dry and stingy, though by my Letter I had given thee so +good an opportunity to seek the friendship of this honourable, +rational and influential man (who has no children of his own), and to +try whether he might not have been of help to thee. Thou wilt do well, +I think, to try and make good this fault on another opportunity."</p> + +<p>'At the same time the old man repeatedly pressed him to return to +Medicine, and graduate in Heidelberg: "a theatre-poet in Germany," he +signified, "was but a small light; and as he, the Son, with all his +Three Pieces, had not made any footing for himself, what was to be +expected of the future ones, which might not be of equal strength! +Doctorship, on the other hand, would give him a sure income and +reputation as well."—Schiller himself was actually determined to +follow his Father's advice as to Medicine; but this project and others +of the same, which were sometimes taken up, went to nothing, now and +always, for want of money to begin with.</p> + +<p>'Amid these old tormenting hindrances, affronts and embarrassments, +Schiller had also many joyful experiences, to which even his Father +was not wholly indifferent. To these belong, besides many others, his +reception into the <i>Kurpfälzische Deutsche Gesellschaft</i>', German +Society of the Electoral Palatinate, 'of this year; which he himself +calls a great step for his establishment; as well as the stormy +applause with which his third Piece, <i>Kabale und Liebe</i>, came upon the +boards, in March following. His Father acknowledged receipt of this +latter Work with the words, "That I possess a copy of thy new Tragedy +I tell nobody; for I dare not, on account of certain passages, let any +one notice that it has pleased me." Nevertheless the Piece, as already +the <i>Robbers</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> had done, came in Stuttgart also to the acting point; +and was received with loud approval. Schiller now, with new pleasure +and inspiration, laid hands on his <i>Don Carlos</i>; and with the happy +progress of this Work, there began for him a more confident temper of +mind, and a clearing-up of horizon and outlook; which henceforth only +transiently yielded to embarrassments in his outer life.</p> + +<p>'Soon after this, however, there came upon him an unexpected event so +suddenly and painfully that, in his extremest excitement and misery, +he fairly hurt the feelings of his Father by unreasonable requirements +of him, and reproaches on their being refused. A principal Stuttgart +Cautioner of his, incessantly pressed upon by the stringent measures +of the creditors there, had fairly run off, saved himself by flight, +from Stuttgart, and been seized in Mannheim, and there put in jail. +Were not this Prisoner at once got out, Schiller's honour and peace of +conscience were at stake. And so, before his (properly Streicher's) +Landlord, the Architect Hölzel, could get together the required 300 +gulden, and save this unlucky friend, the half-desperate Poet had +written home, and begged from his Father that indispensable sum. And +on the Father's clear refusal, had answered him with a very unfilial +Letter. Not till after the lapse of seven weeks, did the Father reply; +in a Letter, which, as a luminous memorial of his faithful honest +father-heart and of his considerate just character as a man, deserves +insertion here:</p> + +<p>"Very unwilling," writes he, "am I to proceed to the answering of thy +last Letter, 21st November of the past year; which I could rather wish +never to have read than now to taste again the bitterness contained +there. Not enough that thou, in the beginning of the said Letter, very +undeservedly reproachest me, as if I could and should have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> raised the +300 gulden for thee,—thou continuest to blame me, in a very painful +way, for my inquiries about thee on this occasion. Dear Son, the +relation between a good Father and his Son fallen into such a strait, +who, although gifted with many faculties of mind, is still, in all +that belongs to true greatness and contentment, much mistaken and +astray, can never justify the Son in taking up as an injury what the +Father has said out of love, out of consideration and experience of +his own, and meant only for his Son's good. As to what concerns those +300 gulden, every one, alas, who knows my position here, knows that it +cannot be possible for me to have even 50 gulden, not to speak of 300, +before me in store; and that I should borrow such a sum, to the still +farther disadvantage of my other children, for a Son, who of the much +that he has promised me has been able to perform so little,—there, +for certain, were I an unjust Father." Farther on, the old man takes +him up on another side, a private family affair. Schiller had, +directly and through others, in reference to the prospect of a +marriage between his elder Sister Christophine and his friend Reinwald +the Court Librarian of Meiningen, expressed himself in a doubting +manner, and thereby delayed the settlement of this affair. In regard +to which his Father tells him:</p> + +<p>"And now I have something to remark in respect of thy Sister. As thou, +my Son, partly straight out, and partly through Frau von Kalb, hast +pictured Reinwald in a way to deter both me and thy Sister in +counselling and negotiating in the way we intended, the affair seems +to have become quite retrograde: for Reinwald, these two months past, +has not written a word more. Whether thou, my Son, didst well to +hinder a match not unsuitable for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> age, and the narrow pecuniary +circumstances of thy Sister, God, who sees into futurity, knows. As I +am now sixty-one years of age, and can leave little fortune when I +die; and as thou, my Son, how happily soever thy hopes be fulfilled, +wilt yet have to struggle, years long, to get out of these present +embarrassments, and arrange thyself suitably; and as, after that, thy +own probable marriage will always require thee to have more thy own +advantages in view, than to be able to trouble thyself much about +those of thy Sisters;—it would not, all things considered, have been +ill if Christophine had got a settlement. She would quite certainly, +with her apparent regard for Reinwald, have been able to fit herself +into his ways and him; all the better as she, God be thanked, is not +yet smit with ambition, and the wish for great things, and can suit +herself to all conditions."</p> + +<p>The Reinwald marriage did take place by and by, in spite of Schiller +Junior's doubts; and had not Christophine been the paragon of Wives, +might have ended very ill for all parties.</p> + +<p>'After these incidents, Schiller bent his whole strength to disengage +himself from the crushing burden of his debts, and to attain the goal +marked out for him by his Parents' wishes,—an enduring settlement and +steady way of life. Two things essentially contributed to enliven his +activity, and brighten his prospects into the future. One was, the +original beginning, which falls in next June 1784, of his friendly +intimacy with the excellent Körner; in whom he was to find not only +the first founder of his outer fortune in life, but also a kindred +spirit, and cordial friend such as he had never before had. The second +was, that he made, what shaped his future lot, acquaintance with Duke +Karl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> August of Weimar; who, after hearing him read the first act of +<i>Don Carlos</i> at the Court of Darmstadt, had a long conversation with +the Poet, and officially, in consequence of the same, bestowed on him +the title of Rath. This new relation to a noble German Prince gave him +a certain standing-ground for the future; and at the same time +improved his present condition, by completely securing him in respect +of any risk from Würtemberg. The now Schiller, as Court-Counsellor +(<i>Hofrath</i>) to the Duke of Weimar; distinguished in this way by a +Prince, who was acquainted with the Muses, and accustomed only to what +was excellent,—stept forth in much freer attitude, secure of his +position and himself, than the poor fugitive under ban of law had +done.</p> + +<p>'Out of this, however, and the fact resulting from it, that he now +assumed a more decisive form of speech in the Periodical "<i>Thalia</i>" +founded by him, and therein spared the players as little as the +public, there grew for him so many and such irritating brabbles and +annoyances that he determined to quit his connection with the Theatre, +leave Mannheim altogether; and, at Leipzig with his new title of Rath, +to begin a new honourable career. So soon as the necessary moneys and +advices from his friend' (Körner) had arrived, he repaired thither, +end of March 1785; and remained there all the summer. In October of +the same year, he followed his friend Körner to Dresden; and found in +the family of this just-minded, clear-seeing man the purest and +warmest sympathy for himself and his fortunes. The year 1787 led him +at last to Weimar. But here too he had still long to struggle, under +the pressure of poverty and want of many things, while the world, in +ever-increasing admiration, was resounding with his name,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> till, in +1789, his longing for a civic existence, and therewith the intensest +wish of his Parents, was fulfilled.</p> + +<p>'Inexpressible was the joy of the now elderly Father to see his +deeply-beloved Son, after so many roamings, mischances and battles, at +last settled as Professor in Jena; and soon thereafter, at the side of +an excellent Wife, happy at a hearth of his own. The economic +circumstances of the Son were now also shaped to the Father's +satisfaction. If his College salary was small, his literary labours, +added thereto, yielded him a sufficient income; his Wife moreover had +come to him quite fitted out, and her Mother had given all that +belongs to a household. "Our economical adjustment," writes Schiller +to his Father, some weeks after their marriage, "has fallen out, +beyond all my wishes, well; and the order, the dignity which I see +around me here serves greatly to exhilarate my mind. Could you but for +a moment get to me, you would rejoice at the happiness of your Son."</p> + +<p>'Well satisfied and joyful of heart, from this time, the Father's eye +followed his Son's career of greatness and renown upon which the +admired Poet every year stepped onwards, powerfuler, and richer in +results, without ever, even transiently, becoming strange to his +Father's house and his kindred there. Quite otherwise, all letters of +the Son to Father and Mother bear the evident stamp of true-hearted, +grateful and pious filial love. He took, throughout, the heartiest +share in all, even the smallest, events that befell in his Father's +house; and in return communicated to his loved ones all of his own +history that could soothe and gratify them. Of this the following +Letter, written by him, 26th October 1791, on receipt of a case of +wine sent from home, furnishes a convincing proof:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Dearest Father,—I have just returned with my dear Lotte +from Rudolstadt" (her native place), "where I was passing +part of my holidays; and find your Letter. Thousand thanks +for the thrice-welcome news you give me there, of the +improving health of our dear Mother, and of the general +welfare of you all. The conviction that it goes well with +you, and that none of my dear loved ones is suffering, +heightens for me the happiness which I enjoy here at the +side of my dear Lotte.</p> + +<p>You are careful, even at this great distance, for your +children, and gladden our little household with gifts. +Heartiest thanks from us both for the Wine you have sent; +and with the earliest carriage-post the Reinwalds shall have +their share. Day after tomorrow we will celebrate your +Birthday as if you were present, and with our whole heart +drink your health.</p> + +<p>Here I send you a little production of my pen, which may +perhaps give pleasure to my dear Mother and Sisters; for it +should be at least written for ladies. In the year 1790 +Wieland edited the <i>Historical Calendar</i>, and in this of +1791 and in the 1792 that will follow, I have undertaken the +task. Insignificant as a <i>Calendar</i> seems to be, it is that +kind of book which the Publishers can circulate the most +extensively, and which accordingly brings them the best +payment. To the Authors also they can, accordingly, offer +much more. For this Essay on the <i>Thirty-Years War</i> they +have given me 80 Louis-d'or, and I have in the middle of my +Lectures written it in four weeks. Print, copperplates, +binding, Author's honorarium cost the Publisher 4,500 +<i>reichsthaler</i> (675<i>l.</i>), and he counts on a sale of 7,000 +copies or more.</p> + +<p>"<i>28th.</i> Today," so he continues, after some remarks on a +good old friend of his Father's, written after +interruption,—"Today is your Birthday, dearest Father, +which we both celebrate with a pious joy that Heaven has +still preserved you sound and happy for us thus far. May +Heaven still watch over your dear life and your health, and +preserve your days to the latest age, that so your grateful +Son may be able to spread, with all the power he has, joy +and contentment over the evening of your life, and pay the +debts of filial duty to you!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Farewell, my dearest Father; loving kisses to our dearest +Mother and my dear Sisters. We will soon write again.</p> + +<p>"The Wine has arrived in good condition; once more receive +our hearty thanks.—Your grateful and obedient Son</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">"<span class="smcap">Friedrich.</span>"<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>'In the beginning of this year (1791) the Poet had been seized with a +violent and dangerous affection of the chest. The immediate danger was +now over; but his bodily health was, for the rest of his life, +shattered to ruin, and required, for the time coming, especially for +the time just come, all manner of soft treatment and repose. The +worst, therefore, was to be feared if his friends and he could not +manage to place him, for the next few years, in a position freer from +economic cares than now. Unexpectedly, in this difficulty, help +appeared out of Denmark. Two warm admirers of Schiller's genius, the +then hereditary Prince of Holstein-Augustenburg' (Grandfather of the +Prince Christian now, 1872, conspicuous in our English Court), 'and +Count von Schimmelmann, offered the Poet a pension of 1,000 thalers' +(150<i>l.</i>) 'for three years; and this with a fineness and delicacy of +manner, which touched the recipient more even than the offer itself +did, and moved him to immediate assent. The Pension was to remain a +secret; but how could Schiller prevail on himself to be silent of it +to his Parents? With tears of thankfulness the Parents received this +glad message; in their pious minds they gathered out of this the +beneficent conviction that their Son's heavy sorrows, and the danger +in which his life hung, had only been decreed by Providence to set in +its right light the love and veneration which he far and near enjoyed. +Schiller himself this altogether unexpected proof of tenderest +sympathy in his fate visibly cheered,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> and strengthened even in +health; at lowest, the strength of his spirit, which now felt itself +free from outward embarrassments, subdued under it the weakness of his +body.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'In the middle of the year 1793, the love of his native country, and +the longing after his kindred, became so lively in him that he +determined, with his Wife, to visit Swabia. He writes to Körner: "The +Swabian, whom I thought I had altogether got done with, stirs himself +strongly in me; but indeed I have been eleven years parted from +Swabia; and Thüringen is not the country in which I can forget it." In +August he set out, and halted first in the then <i>Reichstadt</i>' +(Imperial Free-town) 'Heilbronn, where he found the friendliest +reception; and enjoyed the first indescribable emotion in seeing again +his Parents, Sisters and early friends. "My dear ones," writes he to +Körner, 27th August, from Heilbronn, "I found well to do, and, as thou +canst suppose, greatly rejoiced to meet me again. My Father, in his +seventieth year, is the image of a healthy old age; and any one who +did not know his years would not count them above sixty. He is in +continual activity, and this it is which keeps him healthy and +youthful." In large draughts the robust old man enjoyed the pleasure, +long forborne, of gazing into the eyes of his Son, who now stood +before him a completed man. He knew not whether more to admire than +love him; for, in his whole appearance, and all his speeches and +doings, there stamped itself a powerful lofty spirit, a tender loving +heart, and a pure noble character. His youthful fire was softened, a +mild seriousness and a friendly dignity did not leave him even in +jest; instead of his old neglect in dress, there had come a dignified +elegance; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> his lean figure and his pale face completed the +interest of his look. To this was yet added the almost wonderful gift +of conversation upon the objects that were dear to him, whenever he +was not borne down by attacks of illness.</p> + +<p>'From Heilbronn, soon after his arrival, Schiller wrote to Duke Karl, +in the style of a grateful former Pupil, whom contradictory +circumstances had pushed away from his native country. He got no +answer from the Duke; but from Stuttgart friends he did get sure +tidings that the Duke, on receipt of this Letter, had publicly said, +if Schiller came into Würtemberg Territory, he, the Duke, would take +no notice. To Schiller Senior, too, he had at the same time granted +the humble petition that he might have leave to visit his Son in +Heilbronn now and then.</p> + +<p>'Under these circumstances, Schiller, perfectly secure, visited +Ludwigsburg and even Solitüde, without, as he himself expressed it, +asking permission of the "Schwabenkönig." And, in September, in the +near prospect of his Wife's confinement, he went altogether to +Ludwigsburg, where he was a good deal nearer to his kindred; and +moreover, in the clever Court-Doctor von Hoven, a friend of his youth, +hoped to find counsel, help and enjoyment. Soon after his removal, +Schiller had, in the birth of his eldest Son, Karl, the sweet +happiness of first paternal joy; and with delight saw fulfilled what +he had written to a friend shortly before his departure from Jena: "I +shall taste the joys of a Son and of a Father, and it will, between +these two feelings of Nature, go right well with me."</p> + +<p>'The Duke, ill of gout, and perhaps feeling that death was nigh, +seemed to make a point of strictly ignoring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> Schiller; and laid not +the least hindrance in his way. On the contrary, he granted Schiller +Senior, on petition, the permission to make use of a certain Bath as +long as he liked; and this Bath lay so near Ludwigsburg that he could +not but think the meaning merely was, that the Father wished to be +nearer his Son. Absence was at once granted by the Duke, useful and +necessary as the elder Schiller always was to him at home. For the old +man, now Major Schiller, still carried on his overseeing of the Ducal +Gardens and Nurseries at Solitüde, and his punctual diligence, +fidelity, intelligence and other excellences in that function had long +been recognised.</p> + +<p>'In a few weeks after, 24th October 1793, Duke Karl died; and was, by +his illustrious Pupil, regarded as in some sort a paternal friend. +Schiller thought only of the great qualities of the deceased, and of +the good he had done him; not of the great faults which as Sovereign, +and as man, he had manifested. Only to his most familiar friend did he +write: "The death of old Herod has had no influence either on me or my +Family,—except indeed that all men who had immediately to do with +that Sovereign Herr, as my Father had, are glad now to have the +prospect of a man before them. That the new Duke is, in every good, +and also in every bad meaning of the word." Withal, however, his +Father, to whom naturally the favour of the new Duke, Ludwig Eugen, +was of importance, could not persuade Schiller to welcome him to the +Sovereignty with a poem. To Schiller's feelings it was unendurable to +awaken, for the sake of an external advantage from the new Lord, any +suspicions as if he welcomed the death of the old.'<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></p> + +<p>Christophine, Schiller's eldest Sister, whom he always loved the most,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +was not here in Swabia;—long hundred miles away, poor Christophine, +with her sickly and gloomy Husband at Meiningen, these ten years +past!—but the younger two, Luise and Nanette, were with him, the +former daily at his hand. Luise was then twenty-seven, and is +described as an excellent domestic creature, amiable affectionate, +even enthusiastic; yet who at an early period though full of +admiration about her Brother and his affairs, had turned all her +faculties and tendencies upon domestic practicality, and the +satisfaction of being useful to her loved ones in their daily life and +wants.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> 'Her element was altogether house-management; the aim of +her endeavour to attain the virtues by which she saw her pious Mother +made happy herself, in making others happy in the narrow in-door +kingdom. This quiet household vocation with its manifold labours and +its simple joys, was Luise's world; beyond which she needed nothing +and demanded nothing. From her Father she had inherited this feeling +for the practical, and this restless activity; from the Mother her +piety, compassion and kindliness; from both, the love of order, +regularity and contentment. Luise, in the weak state of Schiller's +Wife's health, was right glad to take charge of her Brother's +housekeeping; and, first at Heilbronn and then at Ludwigsburg, did it +to the complete satisfaction both of Brother and Sister-in-law. +Schiller himself gives to Körner the grateful testimony, that she +"very well understands household management."</p> + +<p>'In this daily relation with her delicate and loving Brother, to whom +Luise looked up with a sort of timid adoration, he became ever dearer +to her; with a silent delight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> she would often look into the soft +eyes of the great and wonderful man; from whose powerful spirit she +stood so distant, and to whose rich heart so near. All-too rapidly for +her flew-by the bright days of his abode in his homeland, and long she +looked after the vanished one with sad longing; and Schiller also felt +himself drawn closer to his Sister than before; by whose silent +faithful working his abode in Swabia had been made so smooth and +agreeable.'</p> + +<p>Nanette he had, as will by and by appear, seen at Jena, on her +Mother's visit there, the year before;—with admiration and surprise +he then saw the little creature whom he had left a pretty child of +five years old, now become a blooming maiden, beautiful to eye and +heart, and had often thought of her since. She too was often in his +house, at present; a loved and interesting object always. She had been +a great success in the foreign Jena circle, last year; and had left +bright memories there. This is what Saupe says afterwards, of her +appearance at Jena, and now in Schiller's temporary Swabian home:</p> + +<p>'She evinced the finest faculties of mind, and an uncommon receptivity +and docility, and soon became to all that got acquainted with her a +dear and precious object. To declaim passages from her Brother's Poems +was her greatest joy; she did her recitation well; and her Swabian +accent and naïvety of manner gave her an additional charm for her new +relatives, and even exercised a beneficent influence on the Poet's own +feelings. With hearty pleasure his beaming eyes rested often on the +dear Swabian girl, who understood how to awaken in his heart the sweet +tones of childhood and home. "She is good," writes he of her to his +friend Körner, "and it seems as if something could be made of her. She +is yet much the child of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> nature, and that is still the best she could +be, never having been able to acquire any reasonable culture." With +Schiller's abode in Swabia, from August 1793 till May 1794, Nanette +grew still closer to his heart, and in his enlivening and inspiring +neighbourhood her spirit and character shot out so many rich blossoms, +that Schiller on quitting his Father's house felt justified in the +fairest hopes for the future.' Just before her visit to Jena, Schiller +Senior writes to his Son: "It is a great pity for Nanette that I +cannot give her a better education. She has sense and talent and the +best of hearts; much too of my dear Fritz's turn of mind, as he will +himself see, and be able to judge."<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></p> + +<p>'For the rest, on what childlike confidential terms Schiller lived +with his Parents at this time, one may see by the following Letter, of +8th November 1793, from Ludwigsburg:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Right sorry am I, dearest Parents, that I shall not be able +to celebrate my Birthday, 11th November, along with you. But +I see well that good Papa cannot rightly risk just now to +leave Solitüde at all,—a visit from the Duke being expected +there every day. On the whole, it does not altogether depend +on the day on which one is to be merry with loved souls; and +every day on which I can be where my dear Parents are shall +be festal and welcome to me like a Birthday.</p> + +<p>"About the precious little one here Mamma is not to be +uneasy." (Here follow some more precise details about the +health of this little Gold Son; omitted.) "Of watching and +nursing he has no lack; that you may believe; and he is +indeed, a little leanness excepted, very lively and has a +good appetite.</p> + +<p>"I have been, since I made an excursion to Stuttgart, +tolerably well; and have employed this favourable time to get +a little forward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> in my various employments which have been +lying waste so long. For this whole week, I have been very +diligent, and getting on briskly. This is also the cause that +I have not written to you. I am always supremely happy when I +am busy and my labour speeds.</p> + +<p>"For your so precious Portrait I thank you a thousand times, +dearest Father: yet glad as I am to possess this memorial of +you, much gladder still am I that Providence has granted me +to have you yourself, and to live in your neighbourhood. But +we must profit better by this good time, and no longer make +such pauses before coming together again. If you once had +seen the Duke at Solitüde and known how you stand with him, +there would be, I think, no difficulty in a short absence of +a few days, especially at this season of the year. I will +send up the carriage" (hired at Jena for the visit thither +and back) "at the very first opportunity, and leave it with +you, to be ready always when you can come.</p> + +<p>"My and all our hearty and childlike salutations to you +both, and to the good Nane" (Nanette) "my brotherly +salutation.</p> + +<p>"Hoping soon for a joyful meeting,—Your obedient Son,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +"<span class="smcap">Friedrich Schiller.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<p>'In the new-year time 1794, Schiller spent several agreeable weeks in +Stuttgart; whither he had gone primarily on account of some family +matter which had required settling there. At least he informs his +friend Körner, on the 17th March, from Stuttgart, "I hope to be not +quite useless to my Father here, though, from the connections in which +I stand, I can expect nothing for myself."</p> + +<p>'By degrees, however, the sickly, often-ailing Poet began to long +again for a quiet, uniform way of life; and this feeling, daily +strengthened by the want of intellectual conversation, which had +become a necessary for him, grew at length so strong, that he, with an +alleviated heart, thought of departure from his Birth-land, and of +quitting his loved ones; glad that Providence had granted him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> again +to possess his Parents and Sisters for months long and to live in +their neighbourhood. He gathered himself into readiness for the +journey back; and returned, first to his original quarters at +Heilbronn, and, in May 1794, with Wife and Child, to Jena.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'Major Schiller, whom the joy to see his Son and Grandson seemed to +have made young again, lived with fresh pleasure in his idyllic +calling; and in free hours busied himself with writing down his +twenty-years experiences in the domain of garden- and +tree-culture,—in a Work, the printing and publication of which were +got managed for him by his renowned Son. In November 1794 he was +informed that the young Publisher of the first <i>Musen-Almanach</i> had +accepted his <small>MS.</small> for an honorarium of twenty-four Karolins; and that +the same was already gone to press. Along with this, the good old +Major was valued by his Prince, and by all who knew him. His +subordinates loved him as a just impartial man; feared him, too, +however, in his stringent love of order. Wife and children showed him +the most reverent regard and tender love; but the Son was the ornament +of his old age. He lived to see the full renown of the Poet, and his +close connection with Goethe, through which he was to attain complete +mastership and lasting composure. With hands quivering for joy the old +man grasped the <small>MSS.</small> of his dear Son; which from Jena, <i>viâ</i> Cotta's +Stuttgart Warehouses, were before all things transmitted to him. In a +paper from his hand, which is still in existence, there is found a +touching expression of thanks, That God had given him such a joy in +his Son. "And Thou Being of all beings," says he in the same, "to Thee +did I pray, at the birth of my one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> Son, that Thou wouldst supply to +him in strength of intellect and faculty what I, from want of +learning, could not furnish; and Thou hast heard me. Thanks to Thee, +most merciful Being, that Thou hast heard the prayer of a mortal!"</p> + +<p>'Schiller had left his loved ones at Solitüde whole and well; and with +the firm hope that he would see them all again. And the next-following +years did pass untroubled over the prosperous Family. But "ill-luck," +as the proverb says, "comes with a long stride." In the Spring of +1796, when the French, under Jourdan and Moreau, had overrun South +Germany, there reached Schiller, on a sudden, alarming tidings from +Solitüde. In the Austrian chief Hospital, which had been established +in the Castle there, an epidemic fever had broken out; and had visited +the Schiller Family among others. The youngest Daughter Nanette had +sunk under this pestilence, in the flower of her years; and whilst the +second Daughter Luise lay like to die of the same, the Father also was +laid bedrid with gout. For fear of infection, nobody except the +Doctors would risk himself at Solitüde; and so the poor weakly Mother +stood forsaken there, and had, for months long, to bear alone the +whole burden of the household distress. Schiller felt it painfully +that he was unable to help his loved ones, in so terrible a posture of +affairs; and it cost him great effort to hide these feelings from his +friends. In his pain and anxiety, he turned himself at last to his +eldest Sister Christophine, Wife of Hofrath Reinwald in Meiningen; and +persuaded her to go to Solitüde to comfort and support her people +there. Had not the true Sister-heart at once acceded to her Brother's +wishes, he had himself taken the firm determination to go in person to +Swabia, in the middle of May,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> and bring his Family away from +Solitüde, and make arrangements for their nursing and accommodation. +The news of his Sister's setting-out relieved him of a great and +continual anxiety. "Heaven bless thee," writes he to her on the 6th +May, "for this proof of thy filial love." He earnestly entreats her to +prevent his dear Parents from delaying, out of thrift, any wholesome +means of improvement to their health; and declares himself ready, with +joy, to bear all costs, those of travelling included: she is to draw +on Cotta in Tübingen for whatever money she needs. Her Husband also he +thanks, in a cordial Letter, for his consent to this journey of his +Wife.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'July 11, 1796, was born to the Poet, who had been in much trouble +about his own household for some time, his second Son, Ernst. Great +fears had been entertained for the Mother; which proving groundless, +the happy event lifted a heavy burden from his heart; and he again +took courage and hope. But soon after, on the 15th August, he writes +again to the faithful Körner about his kinsfolk in Swabia: "From the +War we have not suffered so much; but all the more from the condition +of my Father, who, broken-down under an obstinate and painful disease, +is slowly wending towards death. How sad this fact is, thou mayest +think."</p> + +<p>'Within few weeks after, 7th September 1796, the Father died; in his +seventy-third year, after a sick-bed of eight months. Though his +departure could not be reckoned other than a blessing, yet the good +Son was deeply shattered by the news of it. What his filially faithful +soul suffered, in these painful days, is touchingly imaged in two +Letters, which may here make a fitting close to this Life-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>sketch of +Schiller's Father. It was twelve days after his Father's death when he +wrote to his Brother-in-law, Reinwald, in Meiningen:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Thou hast here news, dear Brother, of the release of our +good Father; which, much as it had to be expected, nay +wished, has deeply affected us all. The conclusion of so +long and withal so active a life is, even for bystanders, a +touching object: what must it be to those whom it so nearly +concerns? I have to tear myself away from thinking of this +painful loss, since it is my part to help the dear remaining +ones. It is a great comfort to thy Wife that she has been +able to continue and fulfil her daughterly duty till her +Father's last release. She would never have consoled +herself, had he died a few days after her departure home.</p> + +<p>"Thou understandest how in the first days of this fatal +breach among us, while so many painful things storm-in upon +our good Mother, thy Christophine could not have left, even +had the Post been in free course. But this still remains +stopped, and we must wait the War-events on the Franconian, +Swabian and Palatinate borders. How much this absence of thy +Wife must afflict, I feel along with thee; but who can fight +against such a chain of inevitable destinies? Alas, public +and universal disorder rolls up into itself our private +events too, in the fatalest way.</p> + +<p>"Thy Wife longs from her heart for home; and she only the +more deserves our regard that she, against her inclination +and her interest, resolved to be led only by the thought of +her filial duties. Now, however, she certainly will not +delay an hour longer with her return, the instant it can be +entered upon without danger and impossibility. Comfort her +too when thou writest to her; it grieves her to know thee +forsaken, and to have no power to help thee.</p> + +<p>"Fare right well, dear Brother.—Thine,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"><span class="smcap">Schiller.</span>"<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>'Nearly at the same time he wrote to his Mother:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Grieved to the heart, I take up the pen to lament with you +and my dear Sisters the loss we have just sustained. In +truth, for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> good while past I have expected nothing else: +but when the inevitable actually comes, it is always a sad +and overwhelming stroke. To think that one who was so dear +to us, whom we hung upon with the feelings of early +childhood, and also in later years were bound to by respect +and love, that such an object is gone from the world, that +with all our striving we cannot bring it back,—to think of +this is always something frightful. And when, like you, my +dearest best Mother, one has shared with the lost Friend and +Husband joy and sorrow for so many long years, the parting +is all the painfuler. Even when I look away from what the +good Father that is gone was to myself and to us all, I +cannot without mournful emotion contemplate the close of so +steadfast and active a life, which God continued to him so +long, in such soundness of body and mind, and which he +managed so honourably and well. Yes truly, it is not a small +thing to hold out so faithfully upon so long and toilsome a +course; and like him, in his seventy-third year, to part +from the world in so childlike and pure a mood. Might I but, +if it cost me all his sorrows, pass away from my life as +innocently as he from his! Life is so severe a trial; and +the advantages which Providence, in some respects, may have +granted me compared with him, are joined with so many +dangers for the heart and for its true peace!</p> + +<p>"I will not attempt to comfort you and my dear Sisters. You +all feel, like me, how much we have lost; but you feel also +that Death alone could end these long sorrows. With our dear +Father it is now well; and we shall all follow him ere long. +Never shall the image of him fade from our hearts; and our +grief for him can only unite us still closer together.</p> + +<p>"Five or six years ago it did not seem likely that you, my +dear ones, should, after such a loss, find a Friend in your +Brother,—that I should survive our dear Father. God has +ordered it otherwise; and He grants me the joy to feel that +I may still be something to you. How ready I am thereto, I +need not assure you. We all of us know one another in this +respect, and are our dear Father's not unworthy children."</p> +</div> + +<p>This earnest and manful lamentation, which contains also a just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +recognition of the object lamented, may serve to prove, think Saupe +and others, what is very evident, that Caspar Schiller, with his +stiff, military regulations, spirit of discipline and rugged, angular +ways, was, after all, the proper Father for a wide-flowing, sensitive, +enthusiastic, somewhat lawless Friedrich Schiller; and did +beneficently compress him into something of the shape necessary for +his task in this world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>II. THE MOTHER.</h4> + +<p>Of Schiller's Mother, Elisabetha Dorothea Kodweis, born at Marbach +1733, the preliminary particulars have been given above: That she was +the daughter of an Innkeeper, Woodmeasurer and Baker; prosperous in +the place when Schiller Senior first arrived there. We should have +added, what Saupe omits, that the young Surgeon boarded in their +house; and that by the term Woodmeasurer (<i>Holzmesser</i>, Measurer of +Wood) is signified an Official Person appointed not only to measure +and divide into portions the wood supplied as fuel from the Ducal or +Royal Forests, but to be responsible also for payment of the same. In +which latter capacity, Kodweis, as Father Schiller insinuates, was +rash, imprudent and unlucky, and at one time had like to have involved +that prudent, parsimonious Son-in-law in his disastrous economics. We +have also said what Elisabetha's comely looks were, and particular +features; pleasing and hopeful, more and more, to the strict young +Surgeon, daily observant of her and them.</p> + +<p>'In her circle,' Saupe continues, 'she was thought by her early +playmates a kind of enthusiast; because she, with average faculties of +understanding combined deep feeling, true piety and love of Nature, a +talent for Music, nay even for Poetry. But perhaps it was the very +reverse qualities in her, the fact namely that what she wanted in +culture, and it may be also in clearness and sharpness of +understanding, was so richly compensated by warmth and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> lovingness of +character,—perhaps it was this which most attracted to her the heart +of her deeply-reasonable Husband. And never had he cause to repent his +choice. For she was, and remained, as is unanimously testified of her +by trustworthy witnesses, an unpretending, soft and dutiful Wife; and, +as all her Letters testify, had the tenderest mother-heart. She read a +good deal, even after her marriage, little as she had of time for +reading. Favourite Books with her were those on Natural History; but +she liked best of all to study the Biographies of famous men, or to +dwell in the spiritual poetising of an Utz, a Gellert and Klopstock. +She also liked, and in some measure had the power, to express her own +feelings in verses; which, with all their simplicity, show a sense for +rhythm and some expertness in diction. Here is one instance; her +salutation to the Husband who was her First-love, on New-year's day +1757, the ninth year of their as yet childless marriage:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O could I but have found forget-me-not in the Valley,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roses beside it! Then had I plaited thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fragrant blossoms the garland for this New Year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is still brighter to me than that of our Marriage was.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I grumble, in truth, that the cold North now governs us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every flowret's bud is freezing in the cold earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet one thing does not freeze, I mean my loving heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine that is, and shares with thee its joys and sorrows.<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'The Seven-Years War threw the young Wife into manifold anxiety and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +agitation; especially since she had become a Mother, and in fear for +the life of her tenderly-loved Husband, had to tremble for the Father +of her children too. To this circumstance Christophine ascribes, +certainly with some ground, the world-important fact that her Brother +had a much weaker constitution than herself. He had in fact been +almost born in a camp. In late Autumn 1759, the Infantry Regiment of +Major-General Romann, in which Caspar Schiller was then a Lieutenant, +had, for sake of the Autumn Manœuvres of the Würtemberg Soldiery, +taken Camp in its native region. The Mother had thereupon set out from +Marbach to visit her long-absent Husband in the Camp; and it was in +his tent that she felt the first symptoms of her travail. She rapidly +hastened back to Marbach; and by good luck still reached her Father's +house in the Market-Place there, near by the great Fountain; where +she, on the 11th November, was delivered of a Boy. For almost four +years the little Friedrich with Christophine and Mother continued in +the house of the well-contented Grandparents (who had not yet fallen +poor), under her exclusive care. With self-sacrificing love and +careful fidelity, she nursed her little Boy; whose tender body had to +suffer not only from the common ailments of children, but was heavily +visited with fits of cramp. In a beautiful region, on the bosom of a +tender Mother, and in these first years far from the oversight of a +rigorous Father, the Child grew up, and unfolded himself under +cheerful and harmonious impressions.</p> + +<p>'On the return of his Father from the War, little Fritz, now four +years old, was quite the image of his Mother; long-necked, freckled +and reddish-haired like her. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> the pious Mother's work, too, +that a feeling of religion, early and vivid, displayed itself in him. +The easily-receptive Boy was indeed keenly attentive to all that his +Father, in their Family-circle, read to them, and inexhaustible in +questions till he had rightly caught the meaning of it: but he +listened with most eagerness when his Father read passages from the +Bible, or vocally uttered them in prayer. "It was a touching sight," +says his eldest Sister, "the expression of devotion on the dear little +Child's countenance. With its blue eyes directed towards Heaven, its +high-blond hair about the clear brow, and its fast-clasped little +hands. It was like an angel's head to look upon."</p> + +<p>'With Father's return, the happy Mother conscientiously shared with +him the difficult and important business of bringing up their Son; and +both in union worked highly beneficially for his spiritual +development. The practical and rigorous Father directed his chief aim +to developing the Boy's intellect and character; the mild, pious, +poetic-minded Mother, on the other hand, strove for the ennobling +nurture of his temper and his imagination. It was almost exclusively +owing to her that his religious feeling, his tender sense of all that +was good and beautiful, his love of mankind, tolerance, and capability +of self-sacrifice, in the circle of his Sisters and playmates, +distinguished the Boy.</p> + +<p>'On Sunday afternoons, when she went to walk with both the Children, +she was wont to explain to them the Church-Gospel of the day. "Once," +so stands it in Christophine's Memorials, "when we two, as children, +had set out walking with dear Mamma to see our Grandparents, she took +the way from Ludwigsburg to Marbach, which leads straight over the +Hill, a walk of some four miles. It was a beautiful Easter Monday, +and our Mother related<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> to us the history of the two Disciples to +whom, on their journey to Emmaus, Jesus had joined himself. Her speech +and narrative grew ever more inspired; and when we got upon the Hill, +we were all so much affected that we knelt down and prayed. This Hill +became a Tabor to us."</p> + +<p>'At other times she entertained the children with fairy-tales and +magic histories. Already while in Lorch she had likewise led the Boy, +so far as his power of comprehension and her own knowledge permitted, +into the domains of German Poetry. Klopstock's <i>Messias</i>, Opitz's +Poems, Paul Gerhard's and Gellert's pious Songs, were made known to +him in this tender age, through his Mother; and were, for that reason, +doubly dear. At one time also the artless Mother made an attempt on +him with Hofmannswaldau;<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> but the sugary and windy tone of him hurt +the tender poet-feeling of the Boy. With smiling dislike he pushed the +Book away; and afterwards was wont to remark, when, at the new year, +rustic congratulants with their foolish rhymes would too liberally +present themselves, "Mother, there is a new Hofmannswaldau at the +door!" Thus did the excellent Mother guide forward the soul of her +docile Boy, with Bible-passages and Church-symbols, with tales, +histories and poems, into gradual form and stature. Never forgetting, +withal, to awaken and nourish his sense for the beauties of Nature. +Before long, Nature had become his dearest abode; and only love of +that could sometimes tempt him to little abridgments of school-hours. +Often, in the pretty region of Lorch, he wished the Sun goodnight in +open song; or with childish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> pathos summoned Stuttgart's Painters to +represent the wondrous formation and glorious colouring of the sunset +clouds. If, in such a humour, a poor man met him, his overflowing +little heart would impel him to the most active pity; and he liberally +gave away whatever he had by him and thought he could dispense with. +The Father, who, as above indicated, never could approve or even +endure such unreasonable giving-up of one's feelings to effeminate +impressions, was apt to intervene on these occasions, even with manual +punishment,—unless the Mother were at hand to plead the little +culprit off.</p> + +<p>'But nothing did the Mother forward with more eagerness, by every +opportunity, than the kindling inclination of her Son to become a +Preacher; which even showed itself in his sports. Mother or Sister had +to put a little cowl on his head, and pin round him by way of surplice +a bit of black apron; then would he mount a chair and begin earnestly +to preach; ranging together in his own way, not without some traces of +coherency, all that he had retained from teaching and church-visiting +in this kind, and interweaving it with verses of songs. The Mother, +who listened attentively and with silent joy, put a higher meaning +into this childish play; and, in thought, saw her Son already stand in +the Pulpit, and work, rich in blessings, in a spiritual office. The +spiritual profession was at that time greatly esteemed, and gave +promise of an honourable existence. Add to this, that the course of +studies settled for young Würtemberg Theologians not only offered +important pecuniary furtherances and advantages, but also morally the +fewest dangers. And thus the prudent and withal pious Father, too, saw +no reason to object to this inclination of the Son and wish of the +Mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It had almost happened, however, that the Latin School, in +Ludwigsburg (where our Fritz received the immediately preparatory +teaching for his calling) had quite disgusted him with his destination +for theology. The Teacher of Religion in the Institute, a +narrow-minded, angry-tempered Pietist,' as we have seen, 'used the sad +method of tormenting his scholars with continual rigorous, altogether +soulless, drillings and trainings in matters of mere creed; nay he +threatened often to whip them thoroughly, if, in the repetition of the +catechism, a single word were wrong. And thus to the finely-sensitive +Boy instruction was making hateful to him what domestic influences had +made dear. Yet these latter did outweigh and overcome, in the end; and +he remained faithful to his purpose of following a spiritual career.</p> + +<p>'When young Schiller, after the completion of his course at the Latin +School, 1777, was to be confirmed, his Mother and her Husband came +across to Ludwigsburg the day before that solemn ceremony. Just on +their arrival, she saw her Son wandering idle and unconcerned about +the streets; and impressively represented to him how greatly his +indifference to the highest and most solemn transaction of his young +life troubled her. Struck and affected hereby, the Boy withdrew; and, +after a few hours, handed to his Parents a German Poem, expressive of +his feelings over the approaching renewal of his baptismal covenant. +The Father, who either hadn't known the occasion of this, or had +looked upon his Son's idling on the street with less severe eyes, was +highly astonished, and received him mockingly with the question, "Hast +thou lost thy senses, Fritz?" The Mother, on the other hand, was +visibly rejoiced at that poetic outpouring, and with good cause. For, +apart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> from all other views of the matter, she recognised in it how +firmly her Son's inclination was fixed on the study of +Theology.'—(This anecdote, if it were of any moment whatever, appears +to be a little doubtful.)</p> + +<p>'The painfuler, therefore, was it to the Mother's heart when her Son, +at the inevitable entrance into the Karl's School, had to give-up +Theology; and renounce withal, for a long time, if not forever, her +farther guidance and influence. But she was too pious not to recognise +by degrees, in this change also, a Higher Hand; and could trustfully +expect the workings of the same. Besides, her Son clung so tenderly to +her, that at least there was no separation of him from the Mother's +heart to be dreaded. The heart-warm attachment of childish years to +the creed taught him by his Mother might, and did, vanish; but not the +attachment to his Mother herself whose dear image often enough charmed +back the pious sounds and forms of early days, and for a time scared +away doubts and unbelief.</p> + +<p>'Years came and went; and Schiller, at last, about the end of 1780, +stept out of the Academy, into the actual world, which he as yet knew +only by hearsay. Delivered from that long unnatural constraint of body +and spirit, he gave free course to his fettered inclinations; and +sought, as in Poetry so also in Life, unlimited freedom! The tumults +of passion and youthful buoyancy, after so long an imprisonment, had +their sway; and embarrassments in money, their natural consequence, +often brought him into very sad moods.</p> + +<p>'In this season of time, so dangerous for the moral purity of the +young man, his Mother again was his good Genius; a warning and +request, in her soft tone of love sufficed to recall youthful levity +within the barriers again, and restore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> the balance. She anxiously +contrived, too, that the Son, often and willingly, visited his +Father's house. Whenever Schiller had decided to give himself a good +day, he wandered out with some friend as far as Solitüde.' (Only some +four or five miles.) '"What a baking and a roasting then went on by +that good soul," says one who witnessed it, "for the dear Prodigy of a +Son and the comrade who had come with him; for whom the good Mother +never could do enough! Never have I seen a better maternal heart, a +more excellent, more domestic, more womanly woman."</p> + +<p>'The admiring recognition which the Son had already found among his +youthful friends, and in wider circles, was no less grateful to her +heart than the gradual perception that his powerful soul, welling +forth from the interior to the outward man, diffused itself into his +very features, and by degrees even advantageously altered the +curvatures and the form of his body. His face about this time got rid +of its freckles and irregularities of skin; and strikingly improved, +moreover, by the circumstance that the hitherto rather drooping nose +gradually acquired its later aquiline form. And withal, the youthful +Poet, with the growing consciousness of his strength and of his worth, +assumed an imposing outward attitude; so that a witty Stuttgart Lady, +whose house Schiller often walked past, said of him: "Regiment's Dr. +Schiller steps out as if the Duke were one of his inferior servants!"</p> + +<p>'The indescribable impression which the <i>Robbers</i>, the gigantic +first-born of a Karl's Scholar, made in Stuttgart, communicated itself +to the Mother too; innocently she gave herself up to the delight of +seeing her Son's name wondered at and celebrated; and was, in her +Mother-love, inventive enough to overcome all doubts and risks which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +threatened to dash her joy. By Christophine's mediations, and from the +Son himself as well, she learned many a disquieting circumstance, +which for the present had to be carefully concealed from her Husband; +but nothing whatever could shake her belief in her Son and his talent. +Without murmur, with faithful trust in God, she resigned herself even +to the bitter necessity of losing for a long time her only Son; having +once got to see, beyond disputing, that his purpose was firm to +withdraw himself by flight from the Duke's despotic interference with +his poetical activity as well as with his practical procedures; and +that this purpose of his was rigorously demanded by the circumstances. +Yet a sword went through her soul when Schiller, for the last time, +appeared at Solitüde, secretly to take leave of her.' Her feelings on +this tragic occasion have been described above; and may well be +pictured as among the painfulest, tenderest and saddest that a +Mother's heart could have to bear. Our Author continues:</p> + +<p>'In reality, it was to the poor Mother a hard and lamentable time. +Remembrance of the lately bright and safe-looking situation, now +suddenly rent asunder and committed to the dubious unknown; anxiety +about their own household and the fate of her Son; the Father's just +anger, and perhaps some tacit self-reproach that she had favoured a +dangerous game by keeping it concealed from her honest-hearted +Husband,—lay like crushing burdens on her heart. And if many a thing +did smooth itself, and many a thing, which at first was to be feared, +did not take place, one thing remained fixed continually,—painful +anxiety about her Son. To the afflicted Mother, in this heavy time, +Frau von Wolzogen devoted the most sincere and beneficent sympathy; a +Lady of singular goodness of heart,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> who, during Schiller's eight +hidden months at Bauerbach, frequently went out to see his Family at +Solitüde. By her oral reports about Schiller, whom she herself several +times visited at Bauerbach, his Parents were more soothed than by his +own somewhat excited Letters. With reference to this magnanimous +service of friendship, Schiller wrote to her at Stuttgart in February +1783: "A Letter to my Parents is getting on its way; yet, much as I +had to speak of you, I have said nothing whatever" (from prudent +motives) "of your late appearance here, or of the joyful moments of +our conversation together. You yourself still, therefore, have all +that to tell, and you will presumably find a pair of attentive +hearers." Frau von Wolzogen ventured also to apply to a high court +lady, Countess von Hohenheim' (Duke's <i>finale</i> in the <i>illicit</i> way, +whom he at length wedded), 'personally favourable to Schiller, and to +direct her attention, before all, upon the heavy-laden Parents. Nor +was this without effect. For the Countess's persuasion seems +essentially to have contributed to the result that Duke Karl, out of +respect for the deserving Father, left the evasion of his own Pupil +unpunished.</p> + +<p>'It must, therefore, have appeared to the still-agitated Mother, who +reverenced the Frau von Wolzogen as her helpful guardian, a flagrant +piece of ingratitude, when she learnt that her Son was allowing +himself to be led into a passionate love for the blooming young +Daughter of his Benefactress. She grieved and mourned in secret to see +him exposed to new storms; foreseeing clearly, in this passion, a +ready cause for his removal from Bauerbach. To such agitations her +body was no longer equal; a creeping, eating misery undermined her +health. She wrote to her Son at Mannheim, with a soft shadow of +reproof, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> in this year, since his absence, she had become ten +years older in health and looks. Not long after, she had actually to +take to bed, because of painful cramps, which, proceeding from the +stomach, spread themselves over breast, head, back and loins. The +medicines which the Son, upon express account of symptoms by the +Father, prescribed for her, had no effect. By degrees, indeed, these +cramps abated or left-off; but she tottered about in a state of +sickness, years long: the suffering mind would not let the body come +to strength. For though her true heart was filled with a pious love, +which hopes all, believes and suffers all, yet she was neither blind +to the faults of her Son, nor indifferent to the thought of seeing her +Family's good repute and well-being threatened by his non-performances +and financial confusions.</p> + +<p>'With the repose and peace which the news of her Son's appointment to +Jena, and intended marriage, had restored to his Family, there +appeared also (beginning of 1790) an improvement to be taking place in +the Mother's health. Learning this by a Letter from his Father, +Schiller wrote back with lightened heart: "How welcome, dearest +Father, was your last Letter to me, and how necessary! I had, the very +day before, got from Christophine the sad news that my dearest +Mother's state had grown so much worse; and what a blessed turn now +has this weary sickness taken! If in the future <i>regimen vitæ</i> (diet +arrangements) of my dearest Mother, there is strict care taken, her +long and many sufferings, with the source of them, may be removed. +Thanks to a merciful Providence, which saves and preserves for us the +dear Mother of our youth. My soul is moved with tenderness and +gratitude. I had to think of her as lost to us forever; and she has +now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> been given back." In reference to his approaching marriage with +Lottchen von Lengefeld, he adds, "How did it lacerate my heart to +think that my dearest Mother might not live to see the happiness of +her Son! Heaven bless you with thousandfold blessings, best Father, +and grant to my dear Mother a cheerful and painless life!"</p> + +<p>'Soon, however, his Mother again fell sick, and lay in great danger. +Not till August following could the Father announce that she was +saved, and from day to day growing stronger. The annexed history of +the disorder seemed so remarkable to Schiller, that he thought of +preparing it for the public; unless the Physician, Court-Doctor +Consbruch, liked better to send it out in print himself. "On this +point," says Schiller, "I will write to him by the first post; and +give him my warmest thanks for the inestimable service he has done us +all, by his masterly cure of our dear Mamma; and for his generous and +friendly behaviour throughout." "How heartily, my dearest Parents," +writes he farther, "did it rejoice us both" (this Letter is of 29th +December; on the 20th February of that year he had been wedded to his +Lotte), "this good news of the still-continuing improvement of our +dearest Mother! With full soul we both of us join in the thanks which +you give to gracious Heaven for this recovery; and our heart now gives +way to the fairest hopes that Providence, which herein overtops our +expectations, will surely yet prepare a joyful meeting for us all once +more."</p> + +<p>'Two years afterwards this hope passed into fulfilment. The Mother +being now completely cured of her last disorder, there seized her so +irresistible a longing for her Son, that even her hesitating Husband, +anxious lest her very health should suffer, at last gave his consent +to the far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> and difficult journey to Jena. On the 3d Sept. 1792, +Schiller, in joyful humour, announces to his friend in Dresden, "Today +I have received from home the very welcome tidings that my good +Mother, with one of my Sisters, is to visit us here this month. Her +arrival falls at a good time, when I hope to be free and loose from +labour; and then we have ahead of us mere joyful undertakings." The +Mother came in company with her youngest Daughter, bright little Nane, +or Nanette; and surprised him two days sooner than, by the Letters +from Solitüde, he had expected her. Unspeakable joy and sweet sorrow +seized Mother and Son to feel themselves, after ten years of +separation, once more in each other's arms. The long journey, bad +weather and roads had done her no harm. "She has altered a little, in +truth," writes he to Körner, "from what she was ten years ago; but +after so many sicknesses and sorrows, she still has a healthy look. It +rejoices me much that things have so come about, that I have her with +me again, and can be a joy to her."</p> + +<p>'The Mother likewise soon felt herself at home and happy in the +trusted circle of her children; only too fast flew-by the beautiful +and happy days, which seemed to her richly to make amends for so many +years of sorrows and cares. Especially it did her heart good to see +for herself what a beneficent influence the real and beautiful +womanhood of her Daughter-in-law exercised upon her Son. Daily she +learnt to know the great advantages of mind and heart in her; daily +she more deeply thanked God that for her Son, who, on account even of +his weak health, was not an altogether convenient Husband, there had +been so tender-hearted and so finely-cultivated a Wife given him as +life-companion. The conviction that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> the domestic happiness of her Son +was secure contributed essentially also to alleviate the pain of +departure.</p> + +<p>'Still happier days fell to her when Schiller, stirred up by her +visit, came the year after, with his Wife, to Swabia; and lived there +from August 1793 till May 1794. It was a singular and as if +providential circumstance, which did not escape the pious Mother, that +Schiller, in the same month in which he had, eleven years ago, hurried +and in danger, fled out of Stuttgart to Ludwigsburg, should now in +peace and without obstruction come, from Heilbronn by the same +Ludwigsburg, to the near neighbourhood of his Parents. With bitter +tears of sorrow, her eye had then followed the fugitive, in his dark +trouble and want of everything; with sweet tears of joy she now +received her fame-crowned Son, whom God, through sufferings and +mistakes and wanderings, had led to happiness and wisdom. The birth of +the Grandson gave to her life a new charm, as if of youth returned. +She felt herself highly favoured that God had spared her life to see +her dear Son's first-born with her own eyes. It was a touching +spectacle to see the Grandmother as she sat by the cradle of the +little "Gold Son," and listened to every breath-drawing of the child; +or when, with swelling heart, she watched the approaching steps of her +Son, and observed his true paternal pleasure over his first-born.</p> + +<p>'Well did the excellent Grandmother deserve such refreshment of heart; +for all-too soon there came again upon her troublous and dark days. +Schiller had found her stronger and cheerfuler than on her prior visit +to Jena; and had quitted his Home-land with the soothing hope that his +good Mother would reach a long and happy age. Nor could he have the +least presentiment of the events which, three years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> later, burst-in, +desolating and destroying, upon his family, and brought the health and +life of his dear Mother again into peril. It is above stated, in our +sketch of the Husband, in what extraordinary form the universal public +misery, under which, in 1796, all South Germany was groaning, struck +the Schiller Family at Solitüde. Already on the 21st March of this +year, Schiller had written to his Father, "How grieved I am for our +good dear Mother, on whom all manner of sorrows have stormed-down in +this manner! But what a mercy of God it is, too, that she still has +strength left not to sink under these circumstances, but to be able +still to afford you so much help! Who would have thought, six or seven +years ago, that she, who was so infirm and exhausted, would now be +serving you all as support and nurse? In such traits I recognise a +good Providence which watches over us; and my heart is touched by it +to the core."</p> + +<p>'Meanwhile the poor Mother's situation grew ever frightfuler from day +to day; and it needed her extraordinary strength of religious faith to +keep her from altogether sinking under the pains, sorrows and toils, +which she had for so many weeks to bear all alone, with the help only +of a hired maid. The news of such misery threw Schiller into the +deepest grief. He saw only one way of sending comfort and help to his +poor Mother, and immediately adopted it; writing to his eldest Sister +in Meiningen, as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Thou too wilt have heard, dearest Sister, that Luise has +fallen seriously ill; and that our poor dear Mother is +thereby robbed of all consolation. If Luise's case were to +grow worse, or our Father's even, our poor Mother would be +left entirely forsaken. Such misery would be unspeakable. +Canst thou make it possible, think'st thou, that thy +strength could accomplish such a thing? If so, at once make +the journey thither. What it costs I will pay with joy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +Reinwald might accompany thee; or, if he did not like that, +come over to me here, where I would brother-like take care +of him.</p> + +<p>"Consider, my dear Sister, that Parents, in such extremity +of need, have the justest claim upon their children for +help. O God, why am not I myself in such health as in my +journey thither three years ago! Nothing should have +hindered me from hastening to them; but that I have scarcely +gone over the threshold for a year past makes me so weak +that I either could not stand the journey, or should fall +down into sickness myself in that afflicted house. Alas, I +can do nothing for them but help with money; and, God knows, +I do that with joy. Consider that our dear Mother, who has +held up hitherto with an admirable courage, must at last +break down under so many sorrows. I know thy childlike +loving heart, I know the perfect fairness and equitable +probity of my Brother-in-law. Both these facts will teach +you better than I under the circumstances. Salute him +cordially.—Thy faithful Brother,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">"<span class="smcap">Schiller.</span>"</p></div> + +<p>Christophine failed not to go, as we saw above. 'From the time of her +arrival there, no week passed without Schiller's writing home; and his +Letters much contributed to strengthen and support the heavy-laden +Mother. The assurance of being tenderly loved by such a Son was +infinitely grateful to her; she considered him as a tried faithful +friend, to whom one, without reluctance, yields his part in one's own +sorrows. Schiller thus expressed himself on this matter in a Letter to +Christophine of 9th May. "The last Letter of my dear good Mother has +deeply affected me. Ah, how much has this good Mother already +undergone; and with what patience and courage has she borne it! How +touching is it that she opened her heart to me; and what woe was mine +that I cannot immediately comfort and soothe her! Hadst thou not gone, +I could not have stayed here. The situation of our dear ones was +horrible; so solitary,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> without help from loving friends, and as if +forsaken by their two children, living far away! I dare not think of +it. What did not our good Mother do for <i>her</i> Parents; and how greatly +has she deserved the like from us! Thou wilt comfort her, dear Sister; +and me thou wilt find heartily ready for all that thou canst propose +to me. Salute our dear Parents in the tenderest way, and tell them +that their Son feels their sorrows."</p> + +<p>'The excellent Christophine did her utmost in these days of sorrow. +She comforted her Mother, and faithfully nursed her Father to his last +breath; nay she saved him and the house, with great presence of mind, +on a sudden inburst of French soldiers. Nor did she return to +Meiningen till all tumult of affairs was past, and the Mother was +again a little composed. And composure the Mother truly needed; for in +a short space she had seen a hopeful Daughter and a faithful Husband +laid in their graves; and by the death of her Husband a union severed +which, originating in mutual affection, had for forty-seven years been +blessed with the same mutual feeling. To all which in her position was +now added the doubly-pressing care about her future days. Here, +however, the Son so dear to her interposed with loving readiness, and +the tender manner natural to him:</p> + +<p>"You, dear Mother," he writes, "must now choose wholly for yourself +what your way of life is to be; and let there be, I charge you, no +care about me or others in your choice. Ask yourself where you would +like best to live,—here with me, or with Christophine, or in our +native country with Luise. Whithersoever your choice falls, there will +we provide the means. For the present, of course, in the circumstances +given, you would remain in Würtemberg a little while; and in that time +all would be arranged. I think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> you might pass the winter months most +easily at Leonberg" (pleasant Village nearest to Solitüde); "and then +with the Spring you would come with Luise to Meiningen; where, +however, I would expressly advise that you had a household of your +own. But of all this, more next time. I would insist upon your coming +here to me, if I did not fear things would be too foreign and too +unquiet for you. But were you once in Meiningen, we will find means +enough to see each other, and to bring your dear Grandchildren to you. +It were a great comfort, dearest Mother, at least to know you, for the +first three or four weeks after Christophine's departure, among people +of your acquaintance; as the sole company of our Luise would too much +remind you of times that are gone. But should there be no Pension +granted by the Duke, and the Sale of Furniture, &c. did not detain you +too long, you might perhaps travel with both the Sisters to Meiningen; +and there compose yourself in the new world so much the sooner. All +that you need for a convenient life must and shall be yours, dear +Mother. It shall be henceforth my care that no anxiety on that head be +left you. After so many sorrows, the evening of your life must be +rendered cheerful, or at least peaceful; and I hope you will still, in +the bosom of your Children and Grandchildren, enjoy many a good day." +In conclusion, he bids her send him everything of Letters and <span class="smcap">MSS.</span> +which his dear Father left; hereby to fulfil his last wish; which also +shall have its uses to his dear Mother.</p> + +<p>'The Widow had a Pension granted by the Duke, of 200 gulden' (near +20<i>l.</i>); 'and therein a comfortable proof that official people +recognised the worth of her late Husband, and held him in honour. She +remained in her native country; and lived the next three years, +according to her Son's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> counsel, with Luise in the little village of +Leonberg, near to Solitüde, where an arrangement had been made for +her. Here a certain Herr Roos, a native of Würtemberg, had made some +acquaintance with her, in the winter 1797-8; to whom we owe the +following sketch of portraiture. "She was a still-agreeable old person +of sixty-five or six, whose lean wrinkly face still bespoke +cheerfulness and kindliness. Her thin hair was all gray; she was of +short" (middle) "stature, and her attitude slightly stooping; she had +a pleasant tone of voice; and her speech flowed light and cheerful. +Her bearing generally showed native grace, and practical acquaintance +with social life."</p> + +<p>'Towards the end of 1799, there opened to the Mother a new friendly +outlook in the marriage of her Luise to the young Parson, M. Frankh, +in Clever-Sulzbach, a little town near Heilbronn. The rather as the +worthy Son-in-law would on no account have the Daughter separated from +the Mother.' Error on Saupe's part. The Mother Schiller continued to +occupy her own house at Leonberg till near the end of her life; she +naturally made frequent little visits to Clever-Sulzbach; and her +death took place there.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> 'Shortly before the marriage, Schiller +wrote, heartily wishing Mother and Sister happiness in this event. It +would be no small satisfaction to his Sister, he said, that she could +lodge and wait upon her good dear Mother in a well-appointed house of +her own; to his Mother also it must be a great comfort to see her +children all settled, and to live up again in a new generation.</p> + +<p>'Almost contemporary with the removal of the Son from Jena to Weimar +was the Mother's with her Daughter to Clever-Sulzbach. The peaceful +silence which now environed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> them in their rural abode had the most +salutary influence both on her temper of mind and on her health; all +the more as Daughter and Son-in-law vied with each other in respectful +attention to her. The considerable distance from her Son, when at +times it fell heavy on her, she forgot in reading his Letters; which +were ever the unaltered expression of the purest and truest +child-love. She forgot it too, as often, over the immortal works out +of which his powerful spirit spoke to her. She lived to hear the name +of Friedrich Schiller celebrated over all Germany with reverent +enthusiasm; and ennobled by the German People sooner and more +gloriously than an Imperial Patent could do it. Truly a Mother that +has had such joys in her Son is a happy one; and can and may say, +"Lord, now let me depart in peace; I have lived enough!"</p> + +<p>'In the beginning of the year 1802, Schiller's Mother again fell ill. +Her Daughter Luise hastened at once to Stuttgart, where she then +chanced to be, and carried her home to Clever-Sulzbach, to be under +her own nursing. So soon as Schiller heard of this, he wrote, in +well-meant consideration of his Sister's frugal economies, to Dr. +Hoven, a friend of his youth at Ludwigsburg; and empowered him to take +his Mother over thither, under his own medical care: he, Schiller, +would with pleasure pay all that was necessary for lodging and +attendance. But the Mother stayed with her Daughter; wrote, however, +in her last Letter to Schiller: "Thy unwearied love and care for me +God reward with thousandfold love and blessings! Ah me! another such +Son there is not in the world!" Schiller, in his continual anxiety +about the dear Patient, had his chief solace in knowing her to be in +such tender hands; and he wrote at once, withal, to his Sister: "Thou +wilt permit me also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> that on my side I try to do something to lighten +these burdens for thee. I therefore make this agreement with my +Bookseller Cotta that he shall furnish my dear Mother with the +necessary money to make good, in a convenient way, the extra outlays +which her illness requires."</p> + +<p>'Schiller's hope, supported by earlier experiences, that kind Nature +would again help his Mother, did not find fulfilment. On the contrary, +her case grew worse; she suffered for months the most violent pains; +and was visibly travelling towards Death. Two days before her +departure, she had the Medallion of her Son handed down to her from +the wall; and pressed it to her heart; and, with tears, thanked God, +who had given her such good children. On the 29th April 1802, she +passed away, in the 69th year of her age. Schiller, from the tenor of +the last news received, had given up all hope; and wrote, in +presentiment of the bitter loss, to his Sister Frankh at +Clever-Sulzbach:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Thy last letter, dearest Sister, leaves me without hope of +our dear Mother. For a fortnight past I have looked with +terror for the tidings of her departure; and the fact that +thou hast not written in that time, is a ground of fear, not +of comfort. Alas! under her late circumstances, life was no +good to her more; a speedy and soft departure was the one +thing that could be wished and prayed for. But write me, +dear Sister, when thou hast recovered thyself a little from +these mournful days. Write me minutely of her condition and +her utterances in the last hours of her life. It comforts +and composes me to busy myself with her, and to keep the +dear image of my Mother living before me.</p> + +<p>"And so they are both gone from us, our dear Parents; and we +Three alone remain. Let us be all the nearer to each other, +dear Sister; and believe always that thy Brother, though so +far away from thee and thy Sister, carries you both warmly +in his heart; and in all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> the accidents of this life will +eagerly meet you with his brotherly love.</p> + +<p>"But I can write no more today. Write me a few words soon. I +embrace thee and thy dear Husband with my whole heart; and +thank him again for all the love he has shown our departed +Mother.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 4em">"Your true Brother,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">"<span class="smcap">Schiller</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>'Soon after this Letter, he received from Frankh, his Brother-in-law, +the confirmation of his sad anticipations. From his answer to Frankh +we extract the following passage: "May Heaven repay with rich interest +the dear Departed One all that she has suffered in life, and done for +her children! Of a truth she deserved to have loving children; for she +was a good Daughter to her suffering necessitous Parents; and the +childlike solicitude she always had for them well deserved the like +from us. You, my dear Brother-in-law, have shared the assiduous care +of my Sister for Her that is gone; and acquired thereby the justest +claim upon my brotherly love. Alas, you had already given your +spiritual support and filial service to my late Father, and taken on +yourself the duties of his absent Son. How cordially I thank you! +Never shall I think of my departed Mother without, at the same time, +blessing the memory of him who alleviated so kindly the last days of +her life." He then signifies the wish to have, from the effects of his +dear Mother, something that, without other worth, will remain a +continual memorial of her. And was in effect heartily obliged to his +Brother, who sent him a ring which had been hers. "It is the most +precious thing that he could have chosen for me," writes he to Luise; +"and I will keep it as a sacred inheritance." Painfully had it touched +him, withal,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> that the day of his entering his new house at Weimar had +been the death-day of his Mother. He noticed this singular +coincidence, as if in mournful presentiment of his own early decease, +as a singular concatenation of events by the hand of Destiny.</p> + +<p>'A Tree and a plain stone Cross, with the greatly-comprehensive short +inscription, "Here rests Schiller's Mother," now mark her grave in +Clever-Sulzbach Churchyard.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>III. THE SISTERS.</h4> + +<p>Saupe has a separate Chapter on each of the three Sisters of Schiller; +but most of what concerns them, especially in relation to their +Brother, has been introduced incidentally above. Besides which, +Saupe's flowing pages are too long for our space; so that instead of +translating, henceforth, we shall have mainly to compile from Saupe +and others, and faithfully abridge.</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 1em"><i>Christophine (born 4 Sept. 1757; married 'June 1786;' died 31 August +1847).</i><a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></p> + +<p>Till Schiller's flight, in which what endless interest and industries +Christophine had we have already seen, the young girls,—Christophine +25, Luise 16, Nanette a rosy little creature of 5,—had known no +misfortune; nor, except Christophine's feelings on the death of the +two little Sisters, years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> ago, no heavy sorrow. At Solitüde, but for +the general cloud of anxiety and grief about their loved and gifted +Brother and his exile, their lives were of the peaceablest +description: diligence in household business, sewing, spinning, +contented punctuality in all things; in leisure hours eager reading +(or at times, on Christophine's part, drawing and painting, in which +she attained considerable excellence), and, as choicest recreation, +walks amid the flourishing Nurseries, Tree-avenues, and fine solid +industries and forest achievements of Papa. Mention is made of a +Cavalry Regiment stationed at Solitüde; the young officers of which, +without society in that dull place, and with no employment except +parade, were considerably awake to the comely Jungfers Schiller and +their promenadings in those pleasant woods: one Lieutenant of them +(afterwards a Colonel, 'Obrist von Miller of Stuttgart') is said to +have manifested honourable aspirations and intentions towards +Christophine,—which, however, and all connection with whom or his +comrades, the rigorously prudent Father strictly forbade; his piously +obedient Daughters, Christophine it is rather thought with some +regret, immediately conforming. A Portrait of this Von Miller, painted +by Christophine, still exists, it would appear, among the papers of +the Schillers.<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a></p> + +<p>The great transaction of her life, her marriage with Reinwald, Court<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> +Librarian of Meiningen, had its origin in 1783; the fruit of that +forced retreat of Schiller's to Bauerbach, and of the eight months he +spent there, under covert, anonymously and in secret, as 'Dr. Ritter,' +with Reinwald for his one friend and adviser. Reinwald, who commanded +the resources of an excellent Library, and of a sound understanding, +long seriously and painfully cultivated, was of essential use to +Schiller; and is reckoned to be the first real guide or useful +counsellor he ever had in regard to Literature. One of Christophine's +Letters to her Brother, written at her Father's order, fell by +accident on Reinwald's floor, and was read by him,—awakening in his +over-clouded, heavy-laden mind a gleam of hope and aspiration. "This +wise, prudent, loving-hearted and judicious young woman, of such clear +and salutary principles of wisdom as to economics too, what a blessing +she might be to me as Wife in this dark, lonely home of mine!" Upon +which hint he spake; and Schiller, as we saw above, who loved him +well, but knew him to be within a year or two of fifty, always ailing +in health, taciturn, surly, melancholy, and miserably poor, was +rebuked by Papa for thinking it questionable. We said, it came about +all the same. Schiller had not yet left Mannheim for the second and +last time, when, in 1784, Christophine paid him a visit, escorted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +thither by Reinwald; who had begged to have that honour allowed him; +having been at Solitüde, and, either there or on his road to Mannheim, +concluded his affair. Streicher, an eyewitness of this visit, says, +"The healthy, cheerful and blooming Maiden had determined to share her +future lot with a man whose small income and uncertain health seemed +to promise little joy. Nevertheless her reasons were of so noble a +sort, that she never repented, in times following, this sacrifice of +her fancy to her understanding, and to a Husband of real worth."<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> +They were married "June 1786;" and for the next thirty, or indeed, in +all, sixty years, Christophine lived in her dark new home at +Meiningen; and never, except in that melancholy time of sickness, +mortality and war, appears to have seen Native Land and Parents again.</p> + +<p>What could have induced, in the calm and well-discerning Christophine, +such a resolution, is by no means clear; Saupe, with hesitation, seems +to assign a religious motive, "the desire of doing good." Had that +abrupt and peremptory dismissal of Lieutenant Miller perhaps something +to do with it? Probably her Father's humour on the matter, at all +times so anxious and zealous to see his Daughters settled, had a chief +effect. It is certain, Christophine consulted her Parish Clergyman on +the affair; and got from him, as Saupe shows us, an affirmatory or at +least permissive response. Certain also that she summoned her own best +insight of all kinds to the subject, and settled it calmly and +irrevocably with whatever faculty was in her.</p> + +<p>To the candid observer Reinwald's gloomy ways were not without their +excuse. Scarcely above once before this, in his now longish life, had +any gleam of joy or success shone on him, to cheer the strenuous and +never-abated struggle. His father had been Tutor to the Prince of +Meiningen, who became Duke afterwards, and always continued to hold +him in honour. Father's death had taken place in 1751, young Reinwald +then in his fourteenth year. After passing with distinction his +three-years curriculum at Jena, Reinwald returned to Meiningen, +expecting employment and preferment;—the rather perhaps as his +Mother's bit of property got much ruined in the Seven-Years War then +raging. Employment Reinwald got, but of the meanest <i>Kanzlist</i> +(Clerkship) kind; and year after year, in spite of his merits, patient +faithfulness and undeniable talent, no preferment whatever. At length, +however, in 1762, the Duke, perhaps enlightened by experience as to +Reinwald, or by personal need of such a talent, did send him as +<i>Geheimer Kanzlist</i> (kind of Private Secretary) to Vienna, with a +view<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> to have from him reports "about politics and literary objects" +there. This was an extremely enjoyable position for the young man; but +it lasted only till the Duke's death, which followed within two years. +Reinwald was then immediately recalled by the new Duke (who, I think, +had rather been in controversy with his Predecessor), and thrown back +to nearly his old position; where, without any regard had to his real +talents and merits, he continued thirteen years, under the title of +<i>Consistorial Kanzlist</i>; and, with the miserablest fraction of yearly +pay, 'carried on the slavish, spirit-killing labours required of him.' +In 1776,—uncertain whether as promotion or as mere abridgment of +labour,—he was placed in the Library as now; that is to say, had +become <i>Sub</i>-Librarian, at a salary of about 15<i>l.</i>, with all the +Library duties to do; an older and more favoured gentleman, perhaps in +lieu of pension, enjoying the Upper Office, and doing none of the +work.</p> + +<p>Under these continual pressures and discouragements poor Reinwald's +heart had got hardened into mutinous indignation, and his health had +broken down: so that, by this time, he was noted in his little world +as a solitary, taciturn, morose and gloomy man; but greatly respected +by the few who knew him better, as a clear-headed, true and faithful +person, much distinguished by intellectual clearness and veracity, by +solid scholarly acquirements and sterling worth of character. To bring +a little help or cheerful alleviation to such a down-pressed man, if a +wise and gentle Christophine could accomplish it, would surely be a +bit of well-doing; but it was an extremely difficult one!</p> + +<p>The marriage was childless; not, in the first, or in any times of it, +to be called unhappy; but, as the weight of years was added, +Christophine's problem grew ever more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> difficult. She was of a +compassionate nature, and had a loving, patient and noble heart; +prudent she was; the skilfulest and thriftiest of financiers; could +well keep silence, too, and with a gentle stoicism endure much small +unreason. Saupe says withal, 'Nobody liked a laugh better, or could +laugh more heartily than she, even in her extreme old +age.'—Christophine herself makes no complaint, on looking back upon +her poor Reinwald, thirty years after all was over. Her final record +of it is: "for twenty-nine years we lived contentedly together." But +her rugged hypochondriac of a Husband, morbidly sensitive to the least +interruption of his whims and habitudes, never absent from their one +dim sitting-room, except on the days in which he had to attend at the +Library, was in practice infinitely difficult to deal with; and seems +to have kept her matchless qualities in continual exercise. He +belonged to the class called in Germany <i>Stubengelehrten</i> (Closet +Literary-men), who publish little or nothing that brings them profit, +but are continually poring and studying. Study was the one consolation +he had in life; and formed his continual employment to the end of his +days. He was deep in various departments, Antiquarian, Philological, +Historical; deep especially in Gothic philology, in which last he did +what is reckoned a real feat,—he, Reinwald, though again it was +another who got the reward. He had procured somewhere, 'a Transcript +of the famous Anglo-Saxon Poem <i>Heliand</i> (Saviour) from the Cotton +Library in England,' this he, with unwearied labour and to great +perfection, had at last got ready for the press; Translation, +Glossary, Original all in readiness;—but could find no Publisher, +nobody that would print without a premium. Not to earn <i>less</i> than +nothing by his labour, he sent the Work to the München Library; where, +in after years, one Schmeller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> found it, and used it for an <i>editio +princeps</i> of his own. <i>Sic vos non vobis</i>; heavy-laden Reinwald!<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a>—</p> + +<p>To Reinwald himself Christophine's presence and presidency in his dim +household were an infinite benefit,—though not much recognised by +him, but accepted rather as a natural tribute due to unfortunate +down-pressed worth, till towards the very end, when the singular merit +of it began to dawn upon him, like the brightness of the Sun when it +is setting. Poor man, he anxiously spent the last two weeks of his +life in purchasing and settling about a neat little cottage for +Christophine; where accordingly she passed her long widowhood, on +stiller terms, though not on less beneficent and humbly beautiful, +than her marriage had offered.</p> + +<p>Christophine, by pious prudence, faith in Heaven, and in the good +fruits of real goodness even on Earth, had greatly comforted the +gloomy, disappointed, pain-stricken man; enlightened his darkness, and +made his poverty noble. <i>Simplex munditiis</i> might have been her motto +in all things. Her beautiful Letters to her Brother are full of +cheerful, though also, it is true, sad enough, allusions to her +difficulties with Reinwald, and partial successes. Poor soul, her +hopes, too, are gently turned sometimes on a blessed future, which +might still lie ahead: of her at last coming, as a Widow, to live with +her Brother, in serene affection, like that of their childhood +together; in a calm blessedness such as the world held no other for +her! But gloomy Reinwald survived bright Schiller for above ten years; +and she had thirty more of lone widowhood, under limited conditions, +to spend after him, still in a noble, humbly-admirable, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> even +happy and contented manner. She was the flower of the Schiller +Sisterhood, though all three are beautiful to us; and in poor Nane, +there is even something of poetic, and tragically pathetic. For one +blessing, Christophine 'lived almost always in good health.' Through +life it may be said of her, she was helpful to all about her, never +hindersome to any; and merited, and had, the universal esteem, from +high and low, of those she had lived among. At Meiningen, 31st August +1847, within a few days of her ninety-first year, without almost one +day's sickness, a gentle stroke of apoplexy took her suddenly away, +and so ended what may be called a <i>Secular</i> Saintlike existence, +mournfully beautiful, wise and noble to all that had beheld it.</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 1em"><i>Nanette (born 8th September 1777, died 23d March 1796; age not yet +19).</i></p> + +<p>Of Nanette we were told how, in 1792, she charmed her Brother and his +Jena circle, by her recitations and her amiable enthusiastic nature; +and how, next year, on Schiller's Swabian visit, his love of her grew +to something of admiration, and practical hope of helping such a rich +talent and noble heart into some clear development,—when, two years +afterwards, death put, to the dear Nanette and his hopes about her, a +cruel end. We are now to give the first budding-out of those fine +talents and tendencies of poor Nanette, and that is all the history +the dear little Being has. Saupe proceeds:</p> + +<p>'Some two years after Schiller's flight, Nanette as a child of six or +seven had, with her elder Sister Luise, witnessed the first +representation of Schiller's <i>Kabale und Liebe</i> in the Stuttgart +theatre. With great excitement, and breath held-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>in, she had watched +the rolling-up of the curtain; and during the whole play no word +escaped her lips; but the excited glance of her eyes, and her +heightened colour, from act to act, testified her intense emotion. The +stormy applause with which her Brother's Play was received by the +audience made an indelible impression on her.</p> + +<p>'The Players, in particular, had shone before her as in a magic light; +the splendour of which, in the course of years, rather increased than +diminished. The child's bright fancy loved to linger on those +never-to-be-forgotten people, by whom her Brother's Poem had been led +into her sight and understanding. The dawning thought, how glorious it +might be to work such wonders herself, gradually settled, the more she +read and heard of her dear Brother's poetic achievements, into the +ardent but secret wish of being herself able to represent his +Tragedies upon the stage. On her visit to Jena, and during her +Brother's abode in Swabia, she was never more attentive than when +Schiller spoke occasionally of the acting of his Pieces, or unfolded +his opinion of the Player's Art.</p> + +<p>'The wish of Nanette, secretly nourished in this manner, to be able, +on the stage, which represents the world, to contribute to the glory +of her Brother, seized her now after his return with such force and +constancy, that Schiller's Sister-in-law, Caroline von Wolzogen, urged +him to yield to the same; to try his Sister's talent; and if it was +really distinguished, to let her enter this longed-for career. +Schiller had no love for the Player Profession; but as, in his then +influential connections in Weimar, he might steer clear of many a +danger, he promised to think the thing over. And thus this kind and +amiable protectress had the satisfaction of cheering Nanette's last +months with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> friendly prospect that her wishes might be +fulfilled.—Schiller's hope, after a dialogue with Goethe on the +subject, had risen to certainty, when with the liveliest sorrow he +learnt that Nanette was ill of that contagious Hospital Fever, and, in +a few days more, that she was gone forever.'<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></p> + +<p>Beautiful Nanette; with such a softly-glowing soul, and such a brief +tragically-beautiful little life! Like a Daughter of the rosy-fingered +Morn; her existence all a sun-gilt soft auroral cloud, and no sultry +Day, with its dusts and disfigurements, permitted to follow. Father +Schiller seems, in his rugged way, to have loved Nanette best of them +all; in an embarrassed manner, we find him more than once recommending +her to Schiller's help, and intimating what a glorious thing for her, +were it a possible one, education might be. He followed her in few +months to her long home; and, by his own direction, 'was buried in the +Churchyard at Gerlingen by her side.'</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 1em"><i>Luise (born 24th January 1766; married 20th October 1799; died 14th +September 1836).</i></p> + +<p>Of Luise's life too, except what was shown above, there need little be +said. In the dismal pestilential days at Solitüde, while her Father +lay dying, and poor Nanette caught the infection, Luise, with all her +tender assiduities and household talent, was there; but, soon after +Nanette's death, the fever seized her too; and she long lay +dangerously ill in that forlorn household; still weak, but slowly +recovering, when Christophine arrived.</p> + +<p>The Father, a short while before his death, summoned to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> him that +excellent young Clergyman, Frankh, who had been so unweariedly kind to +them in this time of sickness when all neighbours feared to look in, +To ask him what his intentions towards Luise were. It was in presence +of the good old man that they made solemn promise to each other; and +at Leonberg, where thenceforth the now-widowed Mother's dwelling was, +they were formally betrothed; and some two years after that were +married.</p> + +<p>Her Mother's death, so tenderly watched over, took place at their +Parsonage at Clever-Sulzbach, as we saw above. Frankh, about two years +after, was promoted to a better living, Möckmühl by name; and lived +there, a well-doing and respected Parson, till his death, in 1834; +which Luise's followed in September of the second year afterwards. +Their marriage lasted thirty-five years. Luise had brought him three +children; and seems to have been, in all respects, an excellent Wife. +She was ingenious in intellectuals as well as economics; had a taste +for poetry; a boundless enthusiasm for her Brother; seems to have been +an anxious Mother, often ailing herself but strenuously doing her best +at all times.</p> + +<p>A touching memorial of Luise is Schiller's last Letter to her, Letter +of affectionate apology for long silence,—apology, and hope of doing +better,—written only a few weeks before his own death. It is as +follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">"Weimar, 27th March 1805.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a long time indeed, good dear Luise, since I +have written to thee; but it was not for amusements that I +forgot thee; it was because in this time I have had so many +hard illnesses to suffer, which put me altogether out of my +regular way; for many months I had lost all courage and +cheerfulness, and given up all hope of my recovery. In such +a humour one does not like to speak; and since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> then, on +feeling myself again better, there was, after the long +silence, a kind of embarrassment; and so it was still put +off. But now, when I have been anew encouraged by thy +sisterly love, I gladly join the thread again; and it shall, +if God will, not again be broken.</p> + +<p>"Thy dear Husband's promotion to Möckmühl, which I learned +eight days ago from our Sister" (Christophine), "has given +us great joy, not only because it so much improves your +position, but also because it is so honourable a testimony +for my dear Brother-in-law's deserts. May you feel +yourselves right happy in these new relations, and right +long enjoy them! We too are got thereby a few miles nearer +you; and on a future journey to Franconia, which we are +every year projecting, we may the more easily get over to +you.</p> + +<p>"How sorry am I, dear Sister, that thy health has suffered +so much; and that thou wert again so unfortunate with thy +confinement! Perhaps your new situation might permit you, +this summer, to visit some tonic watering-place, which might +do thee a great deal of good."—</p> + +<p>"Of our Family here, my Wife will write thee more at large. +Our Children, this winter, have all had chicken-pox; and +poor little Emilie" (a babe of four months) "had much to +suffer in the affair. Thank God, things are all come round +with us again, and my own health too begins to confirm +itself.</p> + +<p>"A thousand times I embrace thee, dear Sister, and my dear +Brother-in-law as well, whom I always wish from the heart to +have more acquaintance with. Kiss thy Children in my name; +may all go right happily with you, and much joy be in store! +How would our dear Parents have rejoiced in your good +fortune; and especially our dear Mother, had she been spared +to see it! Adieu, dear Luise. With my whole soul,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 6em">"Thy faithful Brother,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">"<span class="smcap">Schiller.</span>"</p> + +</div> + +<p>Schiller's tone and behaviour to his Sisters is always beautifully +human and brotherlike, as here. Full of affection, sincerity and the +warmest truest desire to help and cheer. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> noble loving Schiller; +so mindful always of the lowly, from his own wildly-dangerous and +lofty path! He was never rich, poor rather always; but of a spirit +royally munificent in these respects; never forgets the poor +"birthdays" of his Sisters, whom one finds afterwards gratefully +recognising their "beautiful dress" or the like!—</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Of date some six weeks after this Letter to Luise, let us take from +Eyewitnesses one glimpse of Schiller's own deathbed. It is the eighth +day of his illness; his last day but one in this world:</p> + +<p>'<i>Morning of 8th May 1805.</i>— —Schiller, on awakening from sleep, +asked to see his youngest Child. The Baby' Emilie, spoken of above, +'was brought. He turned his head round; took the little hand in his, +and, with an inexpressible look of love and sorrow, gazed into the +little face; then burst into bitter weeping, hid his face among the +pillows; and made a sign to take the child away.'—This little Emilie +is now the Baroness von Gleichen, Co-editress with her Cousin Wolzogen +of the clear and useful Book, <i>Beziehungen</i>, often quoted above. It +was to that same Cousin Wolzogen's Mother (Caroline von Wolzogen, +Authoress of the Biography), and in the course of this same day, that +Schiller made the memorable response, "Calmer, and calmer."—'Towards +evening he asked to see the Sun once more. The curtain was opened; +with bright eyes and face he gazed into the beautiful sunset. It was +his last farewell to Nature.</p> + +<p>'<i>Thursday 9th May.</i> All the morning, his mind was wandering; he spoke +incoherent words, mostly in Latin. About three in the afternoon, +complete weakness came on; his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> breathing began to be interrupted. +About four, he asked for naphtha, but the last syllable died on his +tongue. He tried to write, but produced only three letters; in which, +however, the character of his hand was still visible. Till towards +six, no change. His Wife was kneeling at the bedside; he still pressed +her offered hand. His Sister-in-law stood, with the Doctor, at the +foot of the bed, and laid warm pillows on his feet, which were growing +cold. There now darted, as it were, an electrical spasm over all his +countenance; the head sank back; the profoundest repose transfigured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +his face. His features were as those of one softly sleeping,'—wrapt +in hard-won Victory and Peace forevermore!<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a>—</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Schiller und sein Väterliches Haus.</i> Von Ernst Julius +Saupe, Subconrector am Gymnasium zu Gera. Leipzig: Verlagsbuchhandlung +von J. J. Weber, 1851.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> <i>Schiller's Leben von Gustav Schwab</i> (Stuttgart, 1841). +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 1em"> +<i>Schiller's Leben, verfasst aus</i>, &c. By Caroline von Wolzogen, <i>born</i> +von Lengefeld (Schiller's Sister-in-law): Stuttgart und Tübingen, +1845. +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 1em"> +<i>Schiller's Beziehungen zu Eltern, Geschwistern und der Familie von +Wolzogen, aus den Familien-Papieren.</i> By Baroness von Gleichen +(Schiller's youngest Daughter) and Baron von Wolzogen (her Cousin): +Stuttgart, 1859.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> See <i>Life of Friedrich</i> (Book xix. chap. 8; Book xviii. +chap. 10), and Schiller Senior's rough bit of Autobiography, called +'<i>Meine Lebensgeschichte</i>,' in <i>Schiller's Beziehungen zu Eltern, +Geschwistern und der Familie von Wolzogen</i> (mentioned above), p. 1 et +seqq.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Treuer Wächter Israels!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dir sei Preis und Dank und Ehren;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laut betend lob' ich Dich,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dass es Erd' und Himmel hören' &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, p. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, pp. 106-108.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> +</p><p style="padding-left: 6em"> +<span class="smcap">Herzgeliebte Eltern.</span> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Eltern, die ich zärtlich ehre,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mein Herz ist heut' voll Dankbarkeit!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Der treue Gott dies Jahr vermehre</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Was Sie erquickt zu jeder Zeit!</i><br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Der Herr, die Quelle aller Freude,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Verbleibe stets Ihr Trost und Theil;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sein Wort sei Ihres Herzens Weide,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Und Jesus Ihr erwunschtes Heil.</i><br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ich dank' von alle Liebes-Proben,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Von alle Sorgfalt und Geduld,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mein Herz soll alle Güte loben,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Und trösten sich stets Ihrer Huld.</i><br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Gehorsam, Fleiss und zarte Liebe</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Verspreche ich auf dieses Jahr.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Der Herr schenk' mir nur gute Treibe,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Und mache all' mein Wunschen wahr. Amen.</i><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p style="padding-left: 8em"><span class="smcap">Johann Christoph Friedrich Schiller.</span></p> + +<p style="padding-left: 2em"><i>Den 1 Januarii Anno 1769.</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, p. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Ibid. p. 109.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, p. 25.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Schwab, <i>Schiller's Leben</i> (Stuttgart, 1841), p. 68.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> See <a href="#APPENDIX_II">Appendix II.</a> <i>infrà</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Schwab, <i>Schiller's Leben</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, p. 60.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, p. 136 et seqq.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, pp. 149-50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>'O hätt ich doch im Thal Vergissmeinnicht gefunden</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Und Rosen nebenbei! Dann hat' ich Dir gewunden</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In Blüthenduft den Kranz zu diesem neuen Jahr,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Der schöner noch als der am Hochzeittage war.</i><br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ich zürne, traun, dass itzt der kalte Nord regieret,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Und jedes Blümchens Keim in kalter Erde frieret!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Doch eines frieret nicht, es ist mein liebend Herz;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dein <i>ist es, theilt mit Dir die Freuden und den Schmerz.'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> A once-celebrated Silesian of the 17th century, +distinguished for his blusterous exaggerations, numb-footed caprioles, +and tearing of a passion to rags;—now extinct.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> <i>Beziehungen</i>, p. 197, n.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Here, from Schiller Senior himself (<i>Autobiography</i>, +called "<i>Curriculum Vitæ</i>," in <i>Beziehungen</i>, pp. 15-18), is a List of +his six Children;—the two that died so young we have marked in +italics: +</p><p> +1. '<span class="smcap">Elisabeth Christophine Friedericke</span>, born 4 September 1757, at +Marbach. +</p><p> +2. '<span class="smcap">Johann Christoph Friedrich</span>, born 10 November 1759, at +Marbach. +</p><p> +3. '<span class="smcap">Luise Dorothea Katharina</span>, born 24 January 1766, at Lorch. +</p><p> +4. '<i>Maria Charlotte, born 20 November 1768, at Ludwigsburg: died 29 +March 1774; age 5 gone.</i> +</p><p> +5. '<i>Beata Friedericke, born 4 May 1773, at Ludwigsburg: died 22 +December, same year.</i> +</p><p> +6. '<span class="smcap">Caroline Christiane</span>, born 8 September 1777, at Solitüde;'—(this +is she they call, in fond diminutive, <i>Nane</i> or <i>Nanette</i>.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> <i>Beziehungen</i>, p. 217 n.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> <i>Schwab</i>, p. 173, citing Streicher's words.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> <i>Schiller's Beziehungen</i> (where many of Christophine's +<i>Letters</i>, beautiful all of them, are given).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> <i>Saupe</i>, pp. 150-5.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> <i>Schwab</i>, p. 627, citing Voss, an eyewitness; and +Caroline von Wolzogen herself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX_I" id="APPENDIX_I"></a>APPENDIX I.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></h2> + + + +<hr /> +<h5><a name="NO_1_PAGE_31" id="NO_1_PAGE_31"></a><small>NO. 1. PAGE 31.</small><br /><br /> +DANIEL SCHUBART.</h5> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> enthusiastic discontent so manifest in the <i>Robbers</i> has by some +been in part attributed to Schiller's intercourse with Schubart. This +seems as wise as the hypothesis of Gray's Alderman, who, after half a +century of turtle-soup, imputed the ruin of his health to eating two +unripe grapes: 'he felt them cold upon his stomach, the moment they +were over; he never got the better of them.' Schiller, it appears, saw +Schubart only once, and their conversation was not of a confidential +kind. For any influence this interview could have produced upon the +former, the latter could have merited no mention here: it is on other +grounds that we refer to him. Schubart's history, not devoid of +interest in itself, unfolds in a striking light the circumstances +under which Schiller stood at present; and may serve to justify the +violence of his alarms, which to the happy natives of our Island might +otherwise appear pusillanimous and excessive. For these reasons we +subjoin a sketch of it.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Schubart's character is not a new one in literature; nor is it strange +that his life should have been unfortunate. A warm genial spirit; a +glowing fancy, and a friendly heart; every faculty but diligence, and +every virtue but 'the understrapping virtue of dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>cretion:' such is +frequently the constitution of the poet; the natural result of it also +has frequently been pointed out, and sufficiently bewailed. This man +was one of the many who navigate the ocean of life with 'more sail +than ballast;' his voyage contradicted every rule of seamanship, and +necessarily ended in a wreck.</p> + +<p>Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart was born at Obersontheim in +Swabia, on the 26th of April 1739. His father, a well-meaning soul, +officiated there in the multiple capacity of schoolmaster, precentor, +and curate; dignities which, with various mutations and improvements, +he subsequently held in several successive villages of the same +district. Daniel, from the first, was a thing of inconsistencies; his +life proceeded as if by fits and starts. At school, for a while, he +lay dormant: at the age of seven he could not read, and had acquired +the reputation of a perfect dunce. But 'all at once,' says his +biographer, 'the rind which enclosed his spirit started asunder;' and +Daniel became the prodigy of the school! His good father determined to +make a learned man of him: he sent him at the age of fourteen to the +Nordlingen Lyceum, and two years afterwards to a similar establishment +at Nürnberg. Here Schubart began to flourish with all his natural +luxuriance; read classical and domestic poets; spouted, speculated; +wrote flowing songs; discovered 'a decided turn for music,' and even +composed tunes for the harpsichord! In short, he became an +acknowledged <i>genius</i>: and his parents consented that he should go to +Jena, and perform his <i>cursus</i> of Theology.</p> + +<p>Schubart's purposes were not at all like the decrees of Fate: he set +out towards Jena; and on arriving at Erlangen, resolved to proceed no +farther, but perform his <i>cursus</i> where he was. For a time he studied +well; but afterwards 'tumultuously,' that is, in violent fits, +alternating with fits as violent of idleness and debauchery. He became +a <i>Bursche</i> of the first water; drank and declaimed, rioted and ran in +debt; till his parents, unable any longer to support such expenses, +were glad to seize the first opening in his <i>cursus</i>, and recall him. +He returned to them with a mind fevered by intemperance, and a +constitution permanently injured; his heart burning with regret, and +vanity, and love of pleasure; his head without habits of activity or +principles of judgment, a whirlpool where fantasies and hallucinations +and 'fragments of science' were chaotically jumbled to and fro.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> But +he could babble college-latin; and talk with a trenchant tone about +the 'revolutions of Philosophy.' Such accomplishments procured him +pardon from his parents: the precentorial spirit of his father was +more than reconciled on discovering that Daniel could also preach and +play upon the organ. The good old people still loved their prodigal, +and would not cease to hope in him.</p> + +<p>As a preacher Schubart was at first very popular; he imitated Cramer; +but at the same time manifested first-rate pulpit talents of his own. +These, however, he entirely neglected to improve: presuming on his +gifts and their acceptance, he began to 'play such fantastic tricks +before high Heaven,' as made his audience sink to yawning, or explode +in downright laughter. He often preached extempore; once he preached +in verse! His love of company and ease diverted him from study: his +musical propensities diverted him still farther. He had special gifts +as an organist; but to handle the concordance and to make 'the heaving +bellows learn to blow' were inconsistent things.</p> + +<p>Yet withal it was impossible to hate poor Schubart, or even seriously +to dislike him. A joyful, piping, guileless mortal, good nature, +innocence of heart, and love of frolic beamed from every feature of +his countenance; he wished no ill to any son of Adam. He was musical +and poetical, a maker and a singer of sweet songs; humorous also, +speculative, discursive; his speech, though aimless and redundant, +glittered with the hues of fancy, and here and there with the keenest +rays of intellect. He was vain, but had no touch of pride; and the +excellencies which he loved in himself, he acknowledged and as warmly +loved in others. He was a man of few or no principles, but his nervous +system was very good. Amid his chosen comrades, a jug of indifferent +beer and a pipe of tobacco could change the earth into elysium for +him, and make his brethren demigods. To look at his laughing eyes, and +his effulgent honest face, you were tempted to forget that he was a +perjured priest, that the world had duties for him which he was +neglecting. Had life been all a may-game, Schubart was the best of +men, and the wisest of philosophers.</p> + +<p>Unluckily it was not: the voice of Duty had addressed him in vain; but +that of Want was more impressive. He left his father's house, and +engaged himself as tutor in a family at Königsbronn. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> teach the +young idea how to shoot had few delights for Schubart: he soon gave up +this place in favour of a younger brother; and endeavoured to subsist, +for some time, by affording miscellaneous assistance to the clergy of +the neighbouring villages. Ere long, preferring even pedagogy to +starvation, he again became a teacher. The bitter morsel was sweetened +with a seasoning of music; he was appointed not only schoolmaster but +also organist of Geisslingen. A fit of diligence now seized him: his +late difficulties had impressed him; and the parson of the place, who +subsequently married Schubart's sister, was friendly and skilful +enough to turn the impression to account. Had poor Schubart always +been in such hands, the epithet 'poor' could never have belonged to +him. In this little village-school he introduced some important +reforms and improvements, and in consequence attracted several +valuable scholars. Also for his own behoof, he studied honestly. His +conduct here, if not irreprehensible, was at least very much amended. +His marriage, in his twenty-fifth year, might have improved it still +farther; for his wife was a good, soft-hearted, amiable creature, who +loved him with her whole heart, and would have died to serve him.</p> + +<p>But new preferments awaited Schubart, and with them new temptations. +His fame as a musician was deservedly extending: in time it reached +Ludwigsburg, and the Grand Duke of Würtemberg himself heard Schubart +spoken of! The schoolmaster of Geisslingen was, in 1768, promoted to +be organist and band-director in this gay and pompous court. With a +bounding heart, he tossed away his ferula, and hastened to the scene, +where joys for evermore seemed calling on him. He plunged into the +heart of business and amusement. Besides the music which he taught and +played, publicly and privately, with great applause, he gave the +military officers instruction in various branches of science; he +talked and feasted; he indited songs and rhapsodies; he lectured on +History and the Belles Lettres. All this was more than Schubart's head +could stand. In a little time he fell in debt; took up with virtuosi; +began to read Voltaire, and talk against religion in his drink. From +the rank of genius, he was fast degenerating into that of profligate: +his affairs grew more and more embarrassed; and he had no gift of +putting any order in them. Prudence was not one of Schubart's virtues; +the nearest approxima<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>tion he could make to it was now and then a +little touch of cunning. His wife still loved him; loved him with that +perverseness of affection, which increases in the inverse ratio of its +requital: she had long patiently endured his follies and neglect, +happy if she could obtain a transient hour of kindness from him. But +his endless course of riot, and the straits to which it had reduced +their hapless family, at length overcame her spirits: she grew +melancholy, almost broken-hearted; and her father took her home to +him, with her children, from the spendthrift who had been her ruin. +Schubart's course in Ludwigsburg was verging to its close; his +extravagance increased, and debts pressed heavier and heavier on him: +for some scandal with a young woman of the place, he was cast into +prison; and let out of it, with an injunction forthwith to quit the +dominions of the Grand Duke.</p> + +<p>Forlorn and homeless, here then was Schubart footing the hard highway, +with a staff in his hand, and one solitary <i>thaler</i> in his purse, not +knowing whither he should go. At Heilbronn, the Bürgermeister Wachs +permitted him to teach his Bürgermeisterinn the harpsichord; and +Schubart did not die of hunger. For a space of time he wandered to and +fro, with numerous impracticable plans; now talking for his victuals; +now lecturing or teaching music; kind people now attracted to him by +his genius and misfortunes, and anon repelled from him by the faults +which had abased him. Once a gleam of court-preferment revisited his +path: the Elector Palatine was made acquainted with his gifts, and +sent for him to Schwetzingen to play before him. His playing gratified +the Electoral ear; he would have been provided for, had he not in +conversation with his Highness happened to express a rather free +opinion of the Mannheim Academy, which at that time was his Highness's +hobby. On the instant of this luckless oversight, the door of +patronage was slammed in Schubart's face, and he stood solitary on the +pavement as before.</p> + +<p>One Count Schmettau took pity on him; offered him his purse and home; +both of which the way-worn wanderer was happy to accept. At +Schmettau's he fell in with Baron Leiden, the Bavarian envoy, who +advised him to turn Catholic, and accompany the returning embassy to +Munich. Schubart hesitated to become a renegade; but departed with his +new patron, upon trial. In the way, he played before the Bishop of +Würzburg; was rewarded by his Princely Re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>verence with gold as well as +praise; and arrived under happy omens at Munich. Here for a while +fortune seemed to smile on him again. The houses of the great were +thrown open to him; he talked and played, and fared sumptuously every +day. He took serious counsel with himself about the great Popish +question; now inclining this way, now that: he was puzzling which to +choose, when Chance entirely relieved him of the trouble. 'A person of +respectability' in Munich wrote to Würtemberg to make inquiries who or +what this general favourite was; and received for answer, that the +general favourite was a villain, and had been banished from +Ludwigsburg for denying that there was a Holy Ghost!—Schubart was +happy to evacuate Munich without tap of drum.</p> + +<p>Once more upon the road without an aim, the wanderer turned to +Augsburg, simply as the nearest city, and—set up a Newspaper! The +<i>Deutsche Chronik</i> flourished in his hands; in a little while it had +acquired a decided character for sprightliness and talent; in time it +became the most widely circulated journal of the country. Schubart was +again a prosperous man: his writings, stamped with the vigorous +impress of his own genius, travelled over Europe; artists and men of +letters gathered round him; he had money, he had fame; the rich and +noble threw their parlours open to him, and listened with delight to +his overflowing, many-coloured conversation. He wrote paragraphs and +poetry; he taught music and gave concerts; he set up a spouting +establishment, recited newly-published poems, read Klopstock's +<i>Messias</i> to crowded and enraptured audiences. Schubart's evil genius +seemed asleep, but Schubart himself awoke it. He had borne a grudge +against the clergy, ever since his banishment from Ludwigsburg; and he +now employed the facilities of his journal for giving vent to it. He +criticised the priesthood of Augsburg; speculated on their selfishness +and cant, and took every opportunity of turning them and their +proceedings into ridicule. The Jesuits especially, whom he regarded as +a fallen body, he treated with extreme freedom; exposing their +deceptions, and holding up to public contumely certain quacks whom +they patronised. The Jesuitic Beast was prostrate, but not dead: it +had still strength enough to lend a dangerous kick to any one who came +too near it. One evening an official person waited upon Schubart, and +mentioned an <i>arrest</i> by virtue of a warrant from the Catholic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +Bürgermeister! Schubart was obliged to go to prison. The heads of the +Protestant party made an effort in his favour: they procured his +liberty, but not without a stipulation that he should immediately +depart from Augsburg. Schubart asked to know his crime; but the +Council answered him: "We have our reasons; let that satisfy you:" and +with this very moderate satisfaction he was forced to leave their +city.</p> + +<p>But Schubart was now grown an adept in banishment; so trifling an +event could not unhinge his equanimity. Driven out of Augsburg, the +philosophic editor sought refuge in Ulm, where the publication of his +journal had, for other reasons, already been appointed to take place. +The <i>Deutsche Chronik</i> was as brilliant here as ever: it extended more +and more through Germany; 'copies of it even came to London, Paris, +Amsterdam, and Petersburg.' Nor had its author's fortune altered much; +he had still the same employments, and remunerations, and +extravagances; the same sort of friends, the same sort of enemies. The +latter were a little busier than formerly: they propagated scandals; +engraved caricatures, indited lampoons against him; but this he +thought a very small matter. A man that has been three or four times +banished, and as often put in prison, and for many years on the point +of starving, will not trouble himself much about a gross or two of +pasquinades. Schubart had his wife and family again beside him, he had +money also to support them; so he sang and fiddled, talked and wrote, +and 'built the lofty rhyme,' and cared no fig for any one.</p> + +<p>But enemies, more fell than these, were lurking for the thoughtless +Man of Paragraphs. The Jesuits had still their feline eyes upon him, +and longed to have their talons in his flesh. They found a certain +General Ried, who joined them on a quarrel of his own. This General +Ried, the Austrian Agent at Ulm, had vowed inexpiable hatred against +Schubart, it would seem, for a very slight cause indeed: once Schubart +had engaged to play before him, and then finding that the harpsichord +was out of order, had refused, flatly refused! The General's elevated +spirit called for vengeance on this impudent plebeian; the Jesuits +encouraged him; and thus all lay in eager watch. An opportunity ere +long occurred. One week in 1778, there appeared in Schubart's +newspaper an Extract of a Letter from Vienna,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> stating that 'the +Empress Maria Theresa had been struck by apoplexy.' On reading which, +the General made instant application to his Ducal Highness, requesting +that the publisher of this 'atrocious libel' should be given up to him +and 'sent to expiate his crime in Hungary,' by imprisonment—for life. +The Duke desired his gallant friend to be at ease, for that <i>he</i> had +long had his own eye on this man, and would himself take charge of +him. Accordingly, a few days afterwards, Herr von Scholl, Comptroller +of the Convent of Blaubeuren, came to Schubart with a multitude of +compliments, inviting him to dinner, "as there was a stranger wishing +to be introduced to him." Schubart sprang into the <i>Schlitten</i> with +this wolf in sheep's clothing, and away they drove to Blaubeuren. +Arrived here, the honourable Herr von Scholl left him in a private +room, and soon returned with a posse of official Majors and Amtmen, +the chief of whom advanced to Schubart, and declared him—<i>an arrested +man</i>! The hapless Schubart thought it was a jest; but alas here was no +jesting! Schubart then said with a composure scarcely to be looked +for, that "he hoped the Duke would not condemn him unheard." In this +too he was deceived; the men of office made him mount a carriage with +them, and set off without delay for Hohenasperg. The Duke himself was +there with his Duchess, when these bloodhounds and their prey arrived: +the princely couple gazed from a window as the group went past them, +and a fellow-creature took his farewell look of sun and sky!</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">If hitherto the follies of this man have cast an air of farce upon his +sufferings, even when in part unmerited, such sentiments must now give +place to that of indignation at his cruel and cold-blooded +persecutors. Schubart, who never had the heart to hurt a fly, and with +all his indiscretions, had been no man's enemy but his own, was +conducted to a narrow subterraneous dungeon, and left, without book or +pen, or any sort of occupation or society, to chew the cud of bitter +thought, and count the leaden months as they passed over him, and +brought no mitigation of his misery. His Serene Transparency of +Würtemberg, nay the heroic General himself, might have been satisfied, +could they have seen him: physical squalor, combined with moral agony, +were at work on Schubart; at the end of a year, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> was grown so weak, +that he could not stand except by leaning on the walls of his cell. A +little while, and he bade fair to get beyond the reach of all his +tyrants. This, however, was not what they wanted. The prisoner was +removed to a wholesome upper room; allowed the use of certain books, +the sight of certain company, and had, at least, the privilege to +think and breathe without obstruction. He was farther gratified by +hearing that his wife and children had been treated kindly: the boys +had been admitted to the Stuttgard school, where Schiller was now +studying; to their mother there had been assigned a pension of two +hundred gulden. Charles of Würtemberg was undoubtedly a weak and +heartless man, but we know not that he was a savage one: in the +punishment of Schubart, it is possible enough that he believed himself +to be discharging an important duty to the world. The only subject of +regret is, that any duty to the world, beyond the duty of existing +inoffensively, should be committed to such hands; that men like +Charles and Ried, endowed with so very small a fraction of the common +faculties of manhood, should have the destiny of any living thing at +their control.</p> + +<p>Another mitigating circumstance in Schubart's lot was the character of +his gaoler. This humane person had himself tasted the tender mercies +of 'paternal' government; he knew the nature of a dungeon better even +than his prisoner. 'For four years,' we are told, 'he had seen no +human face; his scanty food had been lowered to him through a +trap-door; neither chair nor table were allowed him, his cell was +never swept, his beard and nails were left to grow, the humblest +conveniences of civilised humanity were denied him!'<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> On this man +affliction had produced its softening, not its hardening influence: he +had grown religious, and merciful in heart; he studied to alleviate +Schubart's hard fate by every means within his power. He spoke +comfortingly to him; ministered to his infirmities, and, in spite of +orders, lent him all his books. These, it is true, were only treatises +on theosophy and mystical devotion; but they were the best he had; and +to Schubart, in his first lonely dungeon, they afforded occupation and +solace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span></p> + +<p>Human nature will accommodate itself to anything. The King of Pontus +taught himself to eat poison: Schubart, cut out from intemperance and +jollity, did not pine away in confinement and abstemiousness; he had +lost Voltaire and gay company, he found delight in solitude and Jacob +Böhm. Nature had been too good to him to let his misery in any case be +unalloyed. The vague unguided ebullience of spirit, which had so often +set the table in a roar, and made him the most fascinating of +debauchees, was now mellowed into a cloudy enthusiasm, the sable of +which was still copiously blended with rainbow colours. His brain had +received a slight though incurable crack; there was a certain +exasperation mixed with his unsettled fervour; but he was not +wretched, often even not uncomfortable. His religion was not real; but +it had reality enough for present purposes; he was at once a sceptic +and a mystic, a true disciple of Böhm as well as of Voltaire. For +afflicted, irresolute, imaginative men like Schubart, this is not a +rare or altogether ineffectual resource: at the bottom of their minds +they doubt or disbelieve, but their hearts exclaim against the +slightest whisper of it; they dare not look into the fathomless abyss +of Infidelity, so they cover it over with the dense and +strangely-tinted smoke of Theosophy. Schubart henceforth now and then +employed the phrases and figures of religion; but its principles had +made no change in his theory of human duties: it was not food to +strengthen the weakness of his spirit, but an opiate to stay its +craving.</p> + +<p>Schubart had still farther resources: like other great men in +captivity, he set about composing the history of his life. It is true, +he had no pens or paper; but this could not deter him. A +fellow-prisoner, to whom, as he one day saw him pass by the grating of +his window, he had communicated his desire, entered eagerly into the +scheme: the two contrived to unfasten a stone in a wall that divided +their apartments; when the prison-doors were bolted for the night, +this volunteer amanuensis took his place, Schubart trailed his +mattress to the friendly orifice, and there lay down, and dictated in +whispers the record of his fitful story. These memoirs have been +preserved; they were published and completed by a son of Schubart's: +we have often wished to see them, but in vain.</p> + +<p>By day, Schubart had liberty to speak with certain visitors. One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> of +these, as we have said above, was Schiller. That Schubart, in their +single interview, was pleased with the enthusiastic friendly boy, we +could have conjectured, and he has himself informed us. 'Excepting +Schiller,' said the veteran garreteer, in writing afterwards to Gleim, +'I scarcely know of any German youth in whom the sacred spark of +genius has mounted up within the soul like flame upon the altar of a +Deity. We are fallen into the shameful times, when women bear rule +over men; and make the toilet a tribunal before which the most +gigantic minds must plead. Hence the stunted spirit of our poets; +hence the dwarf products of their imagination; hence the frivolous +witticism, the heartless sentiment, crippled and ricketed by soups, +ragouts and sweetmeats, which you find in fashionable balladmongers.'</p> + +<p>Time and hours wear out the roughest day. The world began to feel an +interest in Schubart, and to take some pity on him: his songs and +poems were collected and published; their merit and their author's +misery exhibited a shocking contrast. His Highness of Würtemberg at +length condescended to remember that a mortal, of wants and feelings +like his own, had been forced by him to spend, in sorrow and inaction, +the third part of an ordinary lifetime; to waste, and worse than +waste, ten years of precious time; time, of which not all the dukes +and princes in the universe could give him back one instant. He +commanded Schubart to be liberated; and the rejoicing Editor +(unacquitted, unjudged, unaccused!) once more beheld the blue zenith +and the full ring of the horizon. He joined his wife at Stuttgard, and +recommenced his newspaper. The <i>Deutsche Chronik</i> was again popular; +the notoriety of its conductor made amends for the decay which critics +did not fail to notice in his faculties. Schubart's sufferings had in +fact permanently injured him; his mind was warped and weakened by +theosophy and solitude; bleak northern vapours often flitted over it, +and chilled its tropical luxuriance. Yet he wrote and rhymed; +discoursed on the corruption of the times, and on the means of their +improvement. He published the first portion of his Life, and often +talked amazingly about the Wandering Jew, and a romance of which he +was to form the subject. The idea of making old <i>Joannes a +temporibus</i>, the 'Wandering,' or as Schubart's countrymen denominate +him the 'Eternal Jew,' into a novel hero, was a mighty fa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span>vourite with +him. In this antique cordwainer, as on a raft at anchor in the stream +of time, he would survey the changes and wonders of two thousand +years: the Roman and the Arab were to figure there; the Crusader and +the Circumnavigator, the Eremite of the Thebaid and the Pope of Rome. +Joannes himself, the Man existing out of Time and Space, Joannes the +unresting and undying, was to be a deeply tragic personage. Schubart +warmed himself with this idea; and talked about it in his cups, to the +astonishment of simple souls. He even wrote a certain rhapsody +connected with it, which is published in his poems. But here he +rested; and the project of the Wandering Jew, which Goethe likewise +meditated in his youth, is still unexecuted. Goethe turned to other +objects: and poor Schubart was surprised by death, in the midst of his +schemes, on the 10th of October 1791.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Of Schubart's character as a man, this record of his life leaves but a +mean impression. Unstable in his goings, without principle or plan, he +flickered through existence like an <i>ignis-fatuus</i>; now shooting into +momentary gleams of happiness and generosity, now quenched in the +mephitic marshes over which his zig-zag path conducted him. He had +many amiable qualities, but scarcely any moral worth. From first to +last his circumstances were against him; his education was +unfortunate, its fluctuating aimless wanderings enhanced its ill +effects. The thrall of the passing moment, he had no will; the fine +endowments of his heart were left to riot in chaotic turbulence, and +their forces cancelled one another. With better models and advisers, +with more rigid habits, and a happier fortune, he might have been an +admirable man: as it is, he is far from admirable.</p> + +<p>The same defects have told with equal influence on his character as a +writer. Schubart had a quick sense of the beautiful, the moving, and +the true; his nature was susceptible and fervid; he had a keen +intellect, a fiery imagination; and his 'iron memory' secured forever +the various produce of so many gifts. But he had no diligence, no +power of self-denial. His knowledge lay around him like the plunder of +a sacked city. Like this too, it was squandered in pursuit of casual +objects. He wrote in gusts; the <i>labor limæ et mora</i> was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> thing he +did not know. Yet his writings have great merit. His newspaper essays +abound in happy illustration and brilliant careless thought. His +songs, excluding those of a devotional and theosophic cast, are often +full of nature, heartiness and true simplicity. 'From his youth +upwards,' we are told, 'he studied the true Old-German <i>Volkslied</i>; he +watched the artisan on the street, the craftsman in his workshop, the +soldier in his guardhouse, the maid by the spinning-wheel; and +transferred the genuine spirit of primeval Germanism, which he found +in them, to his own songs.' Hence their popularity, which many of them +still retain. 'In his larger lyrical pieces,' observes the same not +injudicious critic, 'we discover fearless singularity; wild +imagination, dwelling rather on the grand and frightful than on the +beautiful and soft; deep, but seldom long-continued feeling; at times +far-darting thoughts, original images, stormy vehemence; and generally +a glowing, self-created, figurative diction. He never wrote to show +his art; but poured forth, from the inward call of his nature, the +thought or feeling which happened for the hour to have dominion in +him.'<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></p> + +<p>Such were Schubart and his works and fortunes; the <i>disjecta membra</i> +of a richly-gifted but ill-starred and infatuated poet! The image of +his persecutions added speed to Schiller's flight from Stuttgard; may +the image of his wasted talents and ineffectual life add strength to +our resolves of living otherwise!</p> + + + + +<h5><small><a name="NO_2_PAGE_33" id="NO_2_PAGE_33"></a>NO. 2. PAGE 33.</small><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span><br /><br /> +<a name="LETTERS_OF_SCHILLER" id="LETTERS_OF_SCHILLER"></a>LETTERS OF SCHILLER.</h5> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A few</span> Extracts from Schiller's correspondence may be gratifying to +some readers. The <i>Letters to Dalberg</i>, which constitute the chief +part of it as yet before the public, are on the whole less interesting +than might have been expected, if we did not recollect that the writer +of them was still an inexperienced youth, overawed by his idea of +Dalberg, to whom he could communicate with freedom only on a single +topic; and besides oppressed with grievances, which of themselves +would have weighed down his spirit, and prevented any frank or cordial +exposition of its feelings.</p> + +<p>Of the Reichsfreiherr von Dalberg himself, this correspondence gives +us little information, and we have gleaned little elsewhere. He is +mentioned incidentally in almost every literary history connected with +his time; and generally as a mild gentlemanly person, a judicious +critic, and a warm lover of the arts and their cultivators. The +following notice of his death is extracted from the +<i>Conversations-Lexicon</i>, Part III. p. 12: 'Died at Mannheim, on the +27th of December 1806, in his 85th year, Wolfgang Heribert, +Reichsfreiherr von Dalberg; knighted by the Emperor Leopold on his +coronation at Frankfort. A warm friend and patron of the arts and +sciences; while the German Society flourished at Mannheim, he was its +first President; and the theatre of that town, the school of the best +actors in Germany, of Iffland, Beck, Beil, and many others, owes to +him its foundation, and its maintenance throughout his long +Intendancy, which he held till 1803. As a writer and a poet, he is no +less favourably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> known. We need only refer to his <i>Cora</i>, a musical +drama, and to 'the <i>Monch von Carmel</i>.'—These letters of Schiller +were found among his papers at his death; rescued from destruction by +two of his executors, and published at Carlsruhe, in a small +duodecimo, in the year 1819. There is a verbose preface, but no note +or comment, though some such aid is now and then a little wanted.</p> + +<p>The letters most worthy of our notice are those relating to the +exhibition of the <i>Robbers</i> on the Mannheim stage, and to Schiller's +consequent embarrassments and flight. From these, accordingly, the +most of our selections shall be taken. It is curious to see with what +timidity the intercourse on Schiller's part commences; and how this +awkward shyness gradually gives place to some degree of confidence, as +he becomes acquainted with his patron, or is called to treat of +subjects where he feels that he himself has a dignity, and rights of +his own, forlorn and humble as he is. At first he never mentions +Dalberg but with all his titles, some of which to our unceremonious +ears seem ludicrous enough. Thus in the full style of German +reverence, he avoids directly naming his correspondent, but uses the +oblique designation of 'your Excellency,' or something equally +exalted: and he begins his two earliest letters with an address, +which, literally interpreted, runs thus: 'Empire-free, +Highly-wellborn, Particularly-much-to-be-venerated, Lord Privy +Counsellor!' Such sounding phrases make us smile: but they entirely +depend on custom for their import, and the smile which they excite is +not by any means a philosophic one. It is but fair that in our version +we omit them, or render them by some more grave equivalent.</p> + +<p>The first letter is as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">[No date.]</p> + +<p>'The proud judgment, passed upon me in the flattering letter +which I had the honour to receive from your Excellency, is +enough to set the prudence of an Author on a very slippery +eminence. The authority of the quarter it proceeds from, +would almost communicate to that sentence the stamp of +infallibility, if I could regard it as anything but a mere +encouragement of my Muse. More than this a deep feeling of +my weakness will not let me think it; but if my strength +shall ever climb to the height of a masterpiece,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> I +certainly shall have this warm approval of your Excellency +alone to thank for it, and so will the world. For several +years I have had the happiness to know you from the public +papers: long ago the splendour of the Mannheim theatre +attracted my attention. And, I confess, ever since I felt +any touch of dramatic talent in myself, it has been among my +darling projects some time or other to remove to Mannheim, +the true temple of Thalia; a project, however, which my +<i>closer</i> connection with Würtemberg might possibly impede.</p> + +<p>'Your Excellency's very kind proposal on the subject of the +<i>Robbers</i>, and such other pieces as I may produce in future, +is infinitely precious to me; the maturing of it well +deserves a narrower investigation of your Excellency's +theatre, its special mode of management, its actors, the +<i>non plus ultra</i> of its machinery; in a word, a full +conception of it, such as I shall never get while my only +scale of estimation is this Stuttgard theatre of ours, an +establishment still in its minority. Unhappily my +<i>economical</i> circumstances render it impossible for me to +travel much; though I could travel now with the greater +happiness and confidence, as I have still some <i>pregnant +ideas</i> for the Mannheim theatre, which I could wish to have +the honour of communicating to your Excellency. For the +rest, I remain,' &c.</p> +</div> + +<p>From the second letter we learn that Schiller had engaged to +<i>theatrilise</i> his original edition of the <i>Robbers</i>, and still wished +much to be connected in some shape with Mannheim. The third explains +itself:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">'Stuttgard, 6th October 1781.</p> + +<p>'Here then at last returns the luckless prodigal, the remodelled +<i>Robbers</i>! I am sorry that I have not kept the time, appointed by +myself; but a transitory glance at the number and extent of the +changes I have made, will, I trust, be sufficient to excuse me. Add to +this, that a contagious epidemic was at work in our military Hospital, +which, of course, interfered very often with my <i>otia poetica</i>. After +finishing my work, I may assure you I could engage with less effort of +mind, and certainly with far more contentment, to compose a new piece, +than to undergo the labour I have just concluded. The task was +complicated and tedious. Here I had to correct an error,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> which +naturally was rooted in the very groundwork of the play; there perhaps +to sacrifice a beauty to the limits of the stage, the humour of the +pit, the stupidity of the gallery, or some such sorrowful convention; +and I need not tell you, that as in nature, so on the stage, an idea, +an emotion, can have only one suitable expression, one proper tone. A +single alteration in a trait of character may give a new tendency to +the whole personage, and, consequently, to his actions, and the +mechanism of the piece which depends on them.</p> + +<p>'In the original, the Robbers are exhibited in strong contrast with +each other; and I dare maintain that it is difficult to draw half a +dozen robbers in strong contrast, without in some of them offending +the delicacy of the stage. In my first conception of the piece, I +excluded the idea of its ever being represented in a theatre; hence +came it that Franz was planned as a <i>reasoning</i> villain; a plan which, +though it may content the thinking Reader, cannot fail to vex and +weary the Spectator, who does not come to think, and who wants not +philosophy, but action.</p> + +<p>'In the new edition, I could not overturn this arrangement without +breaking-down the whole economy of the piece. Accordingly I can +predict, with tolerable certainty, that Franz when he appears on the +stage, will not play the part which he has played with the reader. +And, at all events, the rushing stream of the action will hurry the +spectator over all the finer shadings, and rob him of a third part of +the whole character.</p> + +<p>'Karl von Moor might chance to form an era on the stage; except a few +speculations, which, however, work as indispensable colours in the +general picture, he is all action, all visible life. Spiegelberg, +Schweitzer, Hermann, are, in the strictest sense, personages for the +stage; in a less degree, Amelia and the Father.</p> + +<p>'Written and oral criticisms I have endeavoured to turn to advantage. +The alterations are important; certain scenes are altogether new. Of +this number, are Hermann's counter-plots to undermine the schemes of +Franz; his interview with that personage, which, in the first +composition of the work, was entirely and very unhappily forgotten. +His interview with Amelia in the garden has been postponed to the +succeeding act; and my friends tell me that I could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> have fixed upon +no better act than this, no better time than a few moments prior to +the meeting of Amelia with Moor. Franz is brought a little nearer +human nature; but the mode of it is rather strange. A scene like his +condemnation in the fifth act has never, to my knowledge, been +exhibited on any stage; and the same may be said of the scene where +Amelia is sacrificed by her lover.</p> + +<p>'If the piece should be too long, it stands at the discretion of the +manager to abbreviate the speculative parts of it, or here and there, +without prejudice to the general impression, to omit them altogether. +But in the <i>printing</i>, I use the freedom humbly to protest against the +leaving out of anything. I had satisfactory reasons of my own for all +that I allowed to pass; and my submission to the stage does not extend +so far, that I can leave <i>holes</i> in my work, and mutilate the +characters of men for the convenience of actors.</p> + +<p>'In regard to the selection of costume, without wishing to prescribe +any rules, I may be permitted to remark, that though in nature dress +is unimportant, on the stage it is never so. In this particular, the +taste of my Robber Moor will not be difficult to hit. He wears a +plume; for this is mentioned expressly in the play, at the time when +he abdicates his office. I have also given him a baton. His dress +should always be noble without ornament, unstudied but not negligent.</p> + +<p>'A young but excellent composer is working at a symphony for my +unhappy prodigal: I know it will be masterly. So soon as it is +finished, I shall take the liberty of offering it to you.</p> + +<p>'I must also beg you to excuse the irregular state of the manuscript, +the incorrectness of the penmanship. I was in haste to get the piece +ready for you; hence the double sort of handwriting in it; hence also +my forbearing to correct it. My copyist, according to the custom of +all <i>reforming</i> caligraphers, I find, has wofully abused the spelling. +To conclude, I recommend myself and my endeavours to the kindness of +an honoured judge. I am,' &c.</p> +</div> + +<div class="blockquot" style="padding-top: 1em"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">'Stuttgard, 12th December 1781.</p> + +<p>'With the change projected by your Excellency, in regard to the +publishing of my play, I feel entirely contented, especially as I +perceive that by this means two interests that had become very alien,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +are again made one, without, as I hope, any prejudice to the results +and the success of my work. Your Excellency, however, touches on some +other <i>very</i> weighty changes, which the piece has undergone from your +hands; and these, in respect of myself, I feel to be so important, +that I shall beg to explain my mind at some length regarding them. At +the outset, then, I must honestly confess to you, I hold the projected +transference of the action represented in my play to the epoch of the +<i>Landfried</i>, and the Suppression of Private Wars, with the whole +accompaniment which it gains by this new position, as infinitely +better than mine; and must hold it so, although the whole piece should +go to ruin thereby. Doubtless it is an objection, that in our +enlightened century, with our watchful police and fixedness of +statute, such a reckless gang should have arisen in the very bosom of +the laws, and still more, have taken root and subsisted for years: +doubtless the objection is well founded, and I have nothing to allege +against it, but the license of Poetry to raise the probabilities of +the real world to the rank of true, and its possibilities to the rank +of probable.</p> + +<p>'This excuse, it must be owned, is little adequate to the objection it +opposes. But when I grant your Excellency so much (and I grant it +honestly, and with complete conviction), what will follow? Simply that +my play has got an ugly fault at its birth, which fault, if I may say +so, it must carry with it to its grave, the fault being interwoven +with its very nature, and not to be removed without destruction of the +whole.</p> + +<p>'In the first place, all my personages speak in a style too modern, +too enlightened for that ancient time. The dialect is not the right +one. That simplicity so vividly presented to us by the author of <i>Götz +von Berlichingen</i>, is altogether wanting. Many long tirades, touches +great and small, nay entire characters, are taken from the aspect of +the present world, and would not answer for the age of Maximilian. In +a word, this change would reduce the piece into something like a +certain woodcut which I remember meeting with in an edition of Virgil. +The Trojans wore hussar boots, and King Agamemnon had a pair of +pistols in his belt. I should commit a <i>crime</i> against the age of +Maximilian, to avoid an <i>error</i> against the age of Frederick the +Second.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Again, my whole episode of Amelia's love would make a frightful +contrast with the simple chivalry attachment of that period. Amelia +would, at all hazards, need to be re-moulded into a chivalry maiden; +and I need not tell you that this character, and the sort of love +which reigns in my work, are so deeply and broadly tinted into the +whole picture of the Robber Moor, nay, into the whole piece, that +every part of the delineation would require to be re-painted, before +those tints could be removed. So likewise is it with the character of +Franz, that speculative, metaphysico-refining knave.</p> + +<p>'In a word, I think I may affirm, that this projected transposition of +my work, which, prior to the commencement, would have lent it the +highest splendour and completeness, could not fail now, when the piece +is planned and finished, to change it into a defective <i>quodlibet</i>, a +crow with peacock's feathers.</p> + +<p>'Your Excellency will forgive a father this earnest pleading in behalf +of his son. These are but words, and in the long-run every theatre can +make of any piece what they think proper; the author must content +himself. In the present case, he looks upon it as a happiness that he +has fallen into such hands. With Herr Schwann, however, I will make it +a condition that, at least, he <i>print</i> the piece according to the +first plan. In the theatre I pretend to no vote whatever.</p> + +<p>'That other change relating to Amelia's death was perhaps even more +interesting to me. Believe me, your Excellency, this was the portion +of my play which cost me the greatest effort and deliberation, of all +which the result was nothing else than this, that Moor <i>must</i> kill his +Amelia, and that the action is even a <i>positive beauty</i>, in his +character; on the one hand painting the ardent lover, on the other the +Bandit Captain, with the liveliest colours. But the vindication of +this part is not to be exhausted in a single letter. For the rest, the +few words which you propose to substitute in place of this scene, are +truly exquisite, and altogether worthy of the situation. I should be +proud of having written them.</p> + +<p>'As Herr Schwann informs me that the piece, with the music and +indispensably necessary pauses, will last about five hours (too long +for any piece!), a second curtailment of it will be called for. I +should not wish that any but myself undertook this task, and I +my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span>self, <i>without the sight of a rehearsal, or of the first +representation</i>, cannot undertake it.</p> + +<p>'If it were possible that your Excellency could fix the general +rehearsal of the piece some time between the twentieth and the +thirtieth of this month, and make good to me the main expenses of a +journey to you, I should hope, in some few days, I might unite the +interest of the stage with my own, and give the piece that proper +rounding-off, which, without an actual view of the representation, +cannot well be given it. On this point, may I request the favour of +your Excellency's decision soon, that I may be prepared for the event.</p> + +<p>'Herr Schwann writes me that a Baron von Gemmingen has given himself +the trouble and done me the honour to read my piece. This Herr von +Gemmingen, I also hear, is author of the <i>Deutsche Hausvater</i>. I long +to have the honour of assuring him that I liked his <i>Hausvater</i> +uncommonly, and admired in it the traces of a most accomplished man +and writer. But what does the author of the <i>Deutsche Hausvater</i> care +about the babble of a young apprentice? If I should ever have the +honour of meeting Dalberg at Mannheim, and testifying the affection +and reverence I bear him, I will then also press into the arms of that +other, and tell him how dear to me such souls are as Dalberg and +Gemmingen.</p> + +<p>'Your thought about the small Advertisement, before our production of +the piece, I exceedingly approve of; along with this I have enclosed a +sketch of one. For the rest, I have the honour, with perfect respect, +to be always,' &c.</p></div> + +<p>This is the enclosed scheme of an Advertisement; which was afterwards +adopted:</p> + +<div class="blockquot" style="padding-top: 1em"> +<p class="center" style="text-indent: 0em">'THE ROBBERS,<br /> +<small>'<span class="smcap">A PLAY.</span></small></p> + +<p>'The picture of a great, misguided soul, furnished with +every gift for excellence, and lost in spite of all its +gifts: unchecked ardour and bad companionship contaminate +his heart; hurry him from vice to vice, till at last he +stands at the head of a gang of murderers, heaps horror upon +horror, plunges from abyss to abyss into all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> depths of +desperation. Great and majestic in misfortune; and by +misfortune improved, led back to virtue. Such a man in the +Robber Moor you shall "bewail and hate, abhor and love. A +hypocritical, malicious deceiver, you shall likewise see +unmasked, and blown to pieces in his own mines. A feeble, +fond, and too indulgent father. The sorrows of enthusiastic +love, and the torture of ungoverned passion. Here also, not +without abhorrence, you shall cast a look into the interior +economy of vice, and from the stage be taught how all the +gilding of fortune cannot kill the inward worm; how terror, +anguish, remorse, and despair follow close upon the heels of +the wicked. Let the spectator weep today before our scene, +and shudder, and learn to bend his passions under the laws +of reason and religion. Let the youth behold with affright +the end of unbridled extravagance; nor let the man depart +from our theatre, without a feeling that Providence makes +even villains instruments of His purposes and judgments, and +can marvellously unravel the most intricate perplexities of +fate.'</p></div> + +<p>Whatever reverence Schiller entertained for Dalberg as a critic and a +patron, and however ready to adopt his alterations when they seemed +judicious, it is plain, from various passages of these extracts, that +in regard to writing, he had also firm persuasions of his own, and +conscientiousness enough to adhere to them while they continued such. +In regard to the conducting of his life, his views as yet were far +less clear. The following fragments serve to trace him from the first +exhibition of his play at Mannheim to his flight from Stuttgard:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +'Stuttgard, 17th January 1782.</p> + +<p>'I here in writing repeat my warmest thanks for the +courtesies received from your Excellency, for your attention +to my slender efforts, for the dignity and splendour you +bestowed upon my piece, for all your Excellency did to exalt +its little merits and hide its weaknesses by the greatest +outlay of theatric art. The shortness of my stay at Mannheim +would not allow me to go into details respecting the play or +its representation; and as I could not say all, my time +being meted out to me so sparingly, I thought it better to +say absolutely nothing. I observed much, I learned much; and +I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> believe, if Germany shall ever find in me a true dramatic +poet, I must reckon the date of my commencement from the +past week.' * * *</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +'Stuttgard, 24th May 1782.</p> + +<p>* * * 'My impatient wish to see the piece played a second +time, and the absence of my Sovereign favouring that +purpose, have induced me, with some ladies and male friends +as full of curiosity respecting Dalberg's theatre and +<i>Robbers</i> as myself, to undertake a little journey to +Mannheim, which we are to set about tomorrow. As this is the +principal aim of our journey, and to me a more perfect +enjoyment of my play is an exceedingly important object, +especially since this would put it in my power to set about +<i>Fiesco</i> under better auspices, I make it my earnest request +of your Excellency, if possible, to procure me this +enjoyment on Tuesday the 28th current.' * * *</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +'Stuttgard, 4th June 1782.</p> + +<p>'The satisfaction I enjoyed at Mannheim in such copious +fulness, I have paid, since my return, by this epidemical +disorder, which has made me till today entirely unfit to +thank your Excellency for so much regard and kindness. And +yet I am forced almost to repent the happiest journey of my +life; for by a truly mortifying contrast of Mannheim with my +native country, it has pained me so much, that Stuttgard and +all Swabian scenes are become intolerable to me. Unhappier +than I am can no one be. I have feeling enough of my bad +condition, perhaps also feeling enough of my meriting a +better; and in both points of view but <i>one</i> prospect of +relief.</p> + +<p>'May I dare to cast myself into your arms, my generous +benefactor? I know how soon your noble heart inflames when +sympathy and humanity appeal to it; I know how strong your +courage is to undertake a noble action, and how warm your +zeal to finish it. My new friends in Mannheim, whose respect +for you is boundless, told me this: but their assurance was +not necessary; I myself in that hour of your time, which I +had the happiness exclusively to enjoy, read in your +countenance far more than they had told me. It is this which +makes me bold to <i>give</i> myself without reserve to you, to +put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> my whole fate into your hands, and look to you for the +happiness of my life. As yet I am little or nothing. In this +Arctic Zone of taste, I shall never grow to anything, unless +happier stars and a <i>Grecian climate</i> warm me into genuine +poetry. Need I say more, to expect from Dalberg all support?</p> + +<p>'Your Excellency gave me every hope to this effect; the +squeeze of the hand that sealed your promise, I shall +forever feel. If your Excellency will adopt the two or three +hints I have subjoined, and use them in a letter to the +Duke, I have no very great misgivings as to the result.</p> + +<p>'And now with a burning heart, I repeat the request, the +soul of all this letter. Could you look into the interior of +my soul, could you see what feelings agitate it, could I +paint to you in proper colours how my spirit strains against +the grievances of my condition, you would not, I know you +would not, delay one hour the aid which an application from +you to the Duke might procure me.</p> + +<p>'Again I throw myself into your arms, and wish nothing more +than soon, very soon, to have it in my power to show by +personal exertions in your service, the reverence with which +I could devote to you myself and all that I am.'</p></div> + +<p>The 'hints' above alluded to, are given in a separate enclosure, the +main part of which is this:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I earnestly desire that you could secure my union with the +Mannheim Theatre for a specified period (which at your +request might be lengthened), at the end of which I might +again belong to the Duke. It will thus have the air rather +of an excursion than a final abdication of my country, and +will not strike them so ungraciously. In this case, however, +it would be useful to suggest that means of practising and +studying medicine might be afforded me at Mannheim. This +will be peculiarly necessary, lest they sham, and higgle +about letting me away.'</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +'Stuttgard, 15th July 1782.</p> + +<p>'My long silence must have almost drawn upon me the reproach +of folly from your Excellency, especially as I have not only +delayed answering your last kind letter, but also retained +the two books by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span> me. All this was occasioned by a harassing +affair which I have had to do with here. Your Excellency +will doubtless be surprised when you learn that, for my last +journey to you, I have been confined a fortnight under +arrest. Everything was punctually communicated to the Duke. +On this matter I have had an interview with him.</p> + +<p>'If your Excellency think my prospects of coming to you +anywise attainable, my only prayer is to <i>accelerate the +fulfilment of them</i>. The reason why I now wish this with +double earnestness, is one which I dare trust no whisper of +to paper. This alone I can declare for certain, that within +a month or two, if I have not the happiness of being with +you, there will remain no further hope of my ever being +there. Ere that time, I shall be forced to take a <i>step</i>, +which will render it impossible for me to stay at Mannheim.' +* * *</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>The next two extracts are from letters to another correspondent. +Doering quotes them without name or date: their purport sufficiently +points out their place.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I must haste to get away from this: in the end they might +find me an apartment in the Hohenasperg, as they have found +the honest and ill-fated Schubart. They talk of better +culture that I need. It is possible enough, they might +cultivate me differently in Hohenasperg: but I had rather +try to make shift with what culture I have got, or may still +get, by my unassisted efforts. This at least I owe to no one +but my own free choice, and volition that disdains +constraint.'</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'In regard to those affairs, concerning which they wish to +put my spirit under wardship, I have long reckoned my +minority to be concluded. The best of it is, that one can +cast away such clumsy manacles: me at least they shall not +fetter.'</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +[No date.]</p> + +<p>'Your Excellency will have learned from my friends at +Mannheim, what the history of my affairs was up to your +arrival, which unhappily I could not wait for. When I tell +you <i>that I am flying my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> country</i>, I have painted my whole +fortune. But the worst is yet behind. I have not the +necessary <i>means</i> of setting my mishap at defiance. For the +sake of safety, I had to withdraw from Stuttgard with the +utmost speed, at the time of the Prince's arrival. Thus were +my economical arrangements suddenly snapped asunder: I could +not even pay my debts. My hopes had been set on a removal to +Mannheim; there I trusted, by your Excellency's assistance, +that my new play might not only have cleared me of debt, but +have permanently put me into better circumstances. All this +was frustrated by the necessity for hastening my removal. I +went empty away; empty in purse and hope. I blush at being +forced to make such disclosures to you; though I know they +do not disgrace me. Sad enough for me to see realised in +myself the hateful saying, that mental growth and full +stature are things denied to every Swabian!</p> + +<p>'If my former conduct, if all that your Excellency knows of +my character, inspires you with confidence in my love of +honour, permit me frankly to ask your assistance. Pressingly +as I now need the profit I expect from my <i>Fiesco</i>, it will +be impossible for me to have the piece in readiness before +three weeks: my heart was oppressed; the feeling of my own +situation drove me back from my poetic dreams. But if at the +specified period, I could make the play not only <i>ready</i>, +but, as I also hope, <i>worthy</i>, I take courage from that +persuasion, respectfully to ask that your Excellency would +be so obliging as <i>advance</i> for me the price that will then +become due. I need it now, perhaps more than I shall ever do +again throughout my life. I had near 200 florins of debt in +Stuttgard, which I could not pay. I may confess to you, that +this gives me more uneasiness than anything about my future +destiny. I shall have no rest till I am free on <i>that</i> side.</p> + +<p>'In eight days, too, my travelling purse will be exhausted. +It is yet utterly impossible for me to labour with my mind. +In my hand, therefore, are at present no resources.</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'My actual situation being clear enough from what I have +already said, I hold it needless to afflict your Excellency +with any <i>importuning picture</i> of my want. Speedy aid is all +that I can now think of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> or wish. Herr Meyer has been +requested to communicate your Excellency's resolution to me, +and to save you from the task of writing to me in person at +all. With peculiar respect, I call myself,' &c.</p></div> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>It is pleasing to record that the humble aid so earnestly and modestly +solicited by Schiller, was afforded him; and that he never forgot to +love the man who had afforded it; who had assisted him, when +assistance was of such essential value. In the first fervour of his +gratitude, for this and other favours, the poet warmly declared that +'he owed all, all to Dalberg;' and in a state of society where +Patronage, as Miss Edgeworth has observed, directly the antipodes of +Mercy, is in general 'twice cursed,' cursing him that gives and him +that takes, it says not a little for the character both of the obliged +and the obliger in the present instance, that neither of them ever +ceased to remember their connexion with pleasure. Schiller's first +play had been introduced to the Stage by Dalberg, and his last was +dedicated to him.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> The venerable critic, in his eighty-third year, +must have received with a calm joy the tragedy of <i>Tell</i>, accompanied +by an address so full of kindness and respect: it must have gratified +him to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> think that the youth who was once his, and had now become the +world's, could, after long experience, still say of him,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And fearlessly to thee may <i>Tell</i> be shown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every noble feeling is thy own.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Except this early correspondence, very few of Schiller's letters have +been given to the world.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> In Doering's Appendix, we have found one +written six years after the poet's voluntary exile, and agreeably +contrasted in its purport with the agitation and despondency of that +unhappy period. We translate it for the sake of those who, along with +us, regret that while the world is deluged with insipid +correspondences, and 'pictures of mind' that were not worth drawing, +the correspondence of a man who never wrote unwisely should lie +mouldering in private repositories, ere long to be irretrievably +destroyed; that the 'picture of a mind' who was among the conscript +fathers of the human race should still be left so vague and dim. This +letter is addressed to Schwann, during Schiller's first residence in +Weimar: it has already been referred to in the Text.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em"> +'Weimar, 2d May 1788.</p> + +<p>'You apologise for your long silence to spare <i>me</i> the pain +of an apology. I feel this kindness, and thank you for it. +You do not impute my silence to decay of friendship; a proof +that you have read my heart more justly than my evil +conscience allowed me to hope. Continue to believe that the +memory of you lives ineffaceably in my mind, and needs not +to be brightened up by the routine of visits, or letters of +assurance. So no more of this.</p> + +<p>'The peace and calmness of existence which breathes +throughout your letter, gives me joy; I who am yet drifting +to and fro between wind and waves, am forced to envy you +that uniformity, that health of soul and body. To me also in +time it will be granted, as a recompense for labours I have +yet to undergo.</p> + +<p>'I have now been in Weimar nearly three quarters of a year: +after finishing my <i>Carlos</i>, I at last accomplished this +long-projected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> journey. To speak honestly, I cannot say but +that I am exceedingly contented with the place; and my +reasons are not difficult to see.</p> + +<p>'The utmost political tranquillity and freedom, a very +tolerable disposition in the people, little constraint in +social intercourse, a select circle of interesting persons +and thinking heads, the respect paid to literary diligence: +add to this the unexpensiveness to me of such a town as +Weimar. Why should I not be satisfied?</p> + +<p>'With Wieland I am pretty intimate, and to him I must +attribute no small influence on my present happiness; for I +like him, and have reason to believe that he likes me in +return. My intercourse with Herder is more limited, though I +esteem him highly as a writer and a man. It is the caprice +of chance alone which causes this; for we opened our +acquaintance under happy enough omens. Besides, I have not +always time to act according to my likings. With Bode no one +can be very friendly. I know not whether you think here as I +do. Goethe is still but <i>expected</i> out of Italy. The Duchess +Dowager is a lady of sense and talent, in whose society one +does not feel constrained.</p> + +<p>'I thank you for your tidings of the fate of <i>Carlos</i> on +your stage. To speak candidly, my hopes of its success on +any stage were not high; and I know my reasons. It is but +fair that the Goddess of the Theatre avenge herself on me, +for the little gallantry with which I was inspired in +writing. In the mean time, though <i>Carlos</i> prove a never so +decided failure on the stage, I engage for it, our public +shall see it ten times acted, before they understand and +fully estimate the merit that should counterbalance its +defects. When one has seen the beauty of a work, and not +till then, I think one is entitled to pronounce on its +deformity. I hear, however, that the second representation +succeeded better than the first. This arises either from the +changes made upon the piece by Dalberg, or from the fact, +that on a second view, the public comprehended certain +things, which on a first, they—did not comprehend.</p> + +<p>'For the rest, no one can be more satisfied than I am that +<i>Carlos</i>, from causes honourable as well as causes +dishonorable to it, is no speculation for the stage. Its +very length were enough to banish it. Nor was it out of +confidence or self-love that I forced the piece<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> on such a +trial; perhaps out of self-interest rather. If in the affair +my vanity played any part, it was in this, that I thought +the work had solid stuff in it sufficient to outweigh its +sorry fortune on the boards.</p> + +<p>'The present of your portrait gives me true pleasure. I +think it a striking likeness; that of Schubart a little less +so, though this opinion may proceed from my faulty memory as +much as from the faultiness of Lobauer's drawing. The +engraver merits all attention and encouragement; what I can +do for the extension of his good repute shall not be +wanting.</p> + +<p>'To your dear children present my warmest love. At Wieland's +I hear much and often of <i>your eldest daughter</i>; there in a +few days she has won no little estimation and affection. Do +I still hold any place in her remembrance? Indeed, I ought +to blush, that by my long silence I so ill deserve it.</p> + +<p>'That you are going to my dear native country, and will not +pass my Father without seeing him, was most welcome news to +me. The Swabians are a good people; this I more and more +discover, the more I grow acquainted with the other +provinces of Germany. To my family you will be cordially +welcome. Will you take a pack of compliments from me to +them? Salute my Father in my name; to my Mother and my +Sisters <i>your daughter</i> will take my kiss.'</p></div> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'And with these hearty words,' as Doering says, 'we shall conclude +this paper.'</p> + + + +<h5><small><a name="NO_5_PAGE_114" id="NO_5_PAGE_114"></a>NO. 5. PAGE 114.</small><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span><br /><br /> +<a name="FRIENDSHIP_WITH_GOETHE" id="FRIENDSHIP_WITH_GOETHE"></a>FRIENDSHIP WITH GOETHE.</h5> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> history of Schiller's first intercourse with Goethe has been +recorded by the latter in a paper published a few years ago in the +<i>Morphologie</i>, a periodical work, which we believe he still +occasionally continues, or purposes to continue. The paper is entitled +<i>Happy Incident</i>; and may be found in Part I. Volume 1 (pp. 90-96) of +the work referred to. The introductory portion of it we have inserted +in the text at page 109; the remainder, relating to certain scientific +matters, and anticipating some facts of our narrative, we judged it +better to reserve for the Appendix. After mentioning the publication +of <i>Don Carlos</i>, and adding that 'each continued to go on his way +apart,' he proceeds:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'His Essay on <i>Grace and Dignity</i> was yet less of a kind to +reconcile me. The Philosophy of Kant, which exalts the +dignity of mind so highly, while appearing to restrict it, +Schiller had joyfully embraced: it unfolded the +extraordinary qualities which Nature had implanted in him; +and in the lively feeling of freedom and self-direction, he +showed himself unthankful to the Great Mother, who surely +had not acted like a step-dame towards him. Instead of +viewing her as self-subsisting, as producing with a living +force, and according to appointed laws, alike the highest +and the lowest of her works, he took her up under the aspect +of some empirical native qualities of the human mind. +Certain harsh passages I could even directly apply to +myself: they exhibited my confession of faith in a false +light; and I felt that if written without particular +attention to me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> they were still worse; for in that case, +the vast chasm which lay between us gaped but so much the +more distinctly.</p> + +<p>'There was no union to be dreamed of. Even the mild +persuasion of Dalberg, who valued Schiller as he ought, was +fruitless: indeed the reasons I set forth against any +project of a union were difficult to contradict. No one +could deny that between two spiritual antipodes there was +more intervening than a simple diameter of the sphere: +antipodes of that sort act as a sort of poles, and so can +never coalesce. But that some relation may exist between +them will appear from what follows.</p> + +<p>'Schiller went to live at Jena, where I still continued +unacquainted with him. About this time Batsch had set in +motion a Society for Natural History, aided by some handsome +collections, and an extensive apparatus. I used to attend +their periodical meetings: one day I found Schiller there; +we happened to go out together; some discourse arose between +us. He appeared to take an interest in what had been +exhibited; but observed, with great acuteness and good +sense, and much to my satisfaction, that such a disconnected +way of treating Nature was by no means grateful to the +exoteric, who desired to penetrate her mysteries.</p> + +<p>'I answered, that perhaps the initiated themselves were +never rightly at their ease in it, and that there surely was +another way of representing Nature, not separated and +disunited, but active and alive, and expanding from the +whole into the parts. On this point he requested +explanations, but did not hide his doubts; he would not +allow that such a mode, as I was recommending, had been +already pointed out by experiment.</p> + +<p>'We reached his house; the talk induced me to go in. I then +expounded to him with as much vivacity as possible, the +<i>Metamorphosis of Plants</i>,<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> drawing out on paper, with +many characteristic strokes, a symbolic Plant for him, as I +proceeded. He heard and saw all this with much interest and +distinct comprehension; but when I had done, he shook his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> +head and said: "This is no experiment, this is an idea." I +stopped with some degree of irritation; for the point which +separated us was most luminously marked by this expression. +The opinions in <i>Dignity and Grace</i> again occurred to me; +the old grudge was just awakening; but I smothered it, and +merely said: "I was happy to find that I had got ideas +without knowing it, nay that I saw them before my eyes."</p> + +<p>'Schiller had much more prudence and dexterity of management +than I: he was also thinking of his periodical the <i>Horen</i>, +about this time, and of course rather wished to attract than +repel me. Accordingly he answered me like an accomplished +Kantite; and as my stiff necked Realism gave occasion to +many contradictions, much battling took place between us, +and at last a truce, in which neither party would consent to +yield the victory, but each held himself invincible. +Positions like the following grieved me to the very soul: +<i>How can there ever be an experiment that shall correspond +with an idea? The specific quality of an idea is, that no +experiment can reach it or agree with it.</i> Yet if he held as +an idea the same thing which I looked upon as an experiment, +there must certainly, I thought, be some community between +us, some ground whereon both of us might meet! The first +step was now taken; Schiller's attractive power was great, +he held all firmly to him that came within his reach: I +expressed an interest in his purposes, and promised to give +out in the <i>Horen</i> many notions that were lying in my head; +his wife, whom I had loved and valued since her childhood, +did her part to strengthen our reciprocal intelligence; all +friends on both sides rejoiced in it; and thus by means of +that mighty and interminable controversy between <i>object</i> +and <i>subject</i>, we two concluded an alliance, which remained +unbroken, and produced much benefit to ourselves and +others.'</p></div> + +<p>The friendship of Schiller and Goethe forms so delightful a chapter in +their history, that we long for more and more details respecting it. +Sincerity, true estimation of each other's merit, true sympathy in +each other's character and purposes appear to have formed the basis of +it, and maintained it unimpaired to the end. Goethe, we are told, was +minute and sedulous in his attention to Schiller, whom he venerated as +a good man and sympathised with as an afflicted one: when in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span> mixed +companies together, he constantly endeavoured to draw out the stores +of his modest and retiring friend; or to guard his sick and sensitive +mind from annoyances that might have irritated him; now softening, now +exciting conversation, guiding it with the address of a gifted and +polished man, or lashing out of it with the scorpion-whip of his +satire much that would have vexed the more soft and simple spirit of +the valetudinarian. These are things which it is good to think of: it +is good to know that there <i>are</i> literary men, who have other +principles besides vanity; who can divide the approbation of their +fellow mortals, without quarrelling over the lots; who in their +solicitude about their 'fame' do not forget the common charities of +nature, in exchange for which the 'fame' of most authors were but a +poor bargain.</p> + + +<h5><small><a name="NO_4_PAGE_125" id="NO_4_PAGE_125"></a>NO. 4. PAGE 125.</small><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span><br /><br /> +DEATH OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.</h5> + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> a specimen of Schiller's historical style, we have extracted a few +scenes from his masterly description of the Battle of Lützen. The +whole forms a picture, executed in the spirit of Salvator; and though +this is but a fragment, the importance of the figure represented in it +will perhaps counterbalance that deficiency.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">'At last the dreaded morning dawned; but a thick fog, which lay +brooding over all the field, delayed the attack till noon. Kneeling in +front of his lines, the King offered up his devotions; the whole army, +at the same moment, dropping on their right knees, uplifted a moving +hymn, and the field-music accompanied their singing. The King then +mounted his horse; dressed in a jerkin of buff, with a surtout (for a +late wound hindered him from wearing armour), he rode through the +ranks, rousing the courage of his troops to a cheerful confidence, +which his own forecasting bosom contradicted. <i>God with us</i> was the +battle-word of the Swedes; that of the Imperialists was <i>Jesus Maria</i>. +About eleven o'clock, the fog began to break, and Wallenstein's lines +became visible. At the same time, too, were seen the flames of Lützen, +which the Duke had ordered to be set on fire, that he might not be +outflanked on this side. At length the signal pealed; the horse dashed +forward on the enemy; the infantry advanced against his trenches.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>'Meanwhile the right wing, led on by the King in person, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> fallen +on the left wing of the Friedlanders. The first strong onset of the +heavy Finland Cuirassiers scattered the light-mounted Poles and +Croats, who were stationed here, and their tumultuous flight spread +fear and disorder over the rest of the cavalry. At this moment notice +reached the King that his infantry were losing ground, and likely to +be driven back from the trenches they had stormed; and also that his +left, exposed to a tremendous fire from the Windmills behind Lützen, +could no longer keep their place. With quick decision, he committed to +Von Horn the task of pursuing the already beaten left wing of the +enemy; and himself hastened, at the head of Steinbock's regiment, to +restore the confusion of his own. His gallant horse bore him over the +trenches with the speed of lightning; but the squadrons that came +after him could not pass so rapidly; and none but a few horsemen, +among whom Franz Albert, Duke of Sachsen-Lauenburg, is mentioned, were +alert enough to keep beside him. He galloped right to the place where +his infantry was most oppressed; and while looking round to spy out +some weak point, on which his attack might be directed, his +short-sightedness led him too near the enemy's lines. An Imperial +sergeant (<i>gefreiter</i>), observing that every one respectfully made +room for the advancing horseman, ordered a musketeer to fire on him. +"Aim at <i>him</i> there," cried he; "that must be a man of consequence." +The soldier drew his trigger; and the King's left arm was shattered by +the ball. At this instant, his cavalry came galloping up, and a +confused cry of "<i>The King bleeds! The King is shot!</i>" spread horror +and dismay through their ranks. "It is nothing: follow me!" exclaimed +the King, collecting all his strength; but overcome with pain, and on +the point of fainting, he desired the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to +take him without notice from the tumult. The Duke then turned with him +to the right wing, making a wide circuit to conceal this accident from +the desponding infantry; but as they rode along, the King received a +second bullet through the back, which took from him the last remainder +of his strength. "I have got enough, brother," said he with a dying +voice: "haste, save thyself." With these words he sank from his horse; +and here, struck by several other bullets, far from his attendants, he +breathed out his life beneath the plundering hands of a troop of +Croats. His horse flying on without its rider,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> and bathed in blood, +soon announced to the Swedish cavalry the fall of their King; with +wild yells they rush to the spot, to snatch that sacred spoil from the +enemy. A deadly fight ensues around the corpse, and the mangled +remains are buried under a hill of slain men.</p> + +<p>'The dreadful tidings hasten in a few minutes over all the Swedish +army: but instead of deadening the courage of these hardy troops, they +rouse it to a fierce consuming fire. Life falls in value, since the +holiest of all lives is gone; and death has now no terror for the +lowly, since it has not spared the anointed head. With the grim fury +of lions, the Upland, Smäland, Finnish, East and West Gothland +regiments dash a second time upon the left wing of the enemy, which, +already making but a feeble opposition to Von Horn, is now utterly +driven from the field.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>'But how dear a victory, how sad a triumph! Now first when the rage of +battle has grown cold, do they feel the whole greatness of their loss, +and the shout of the conqueror dies in a mute and gloomy despair. He +who led them on to battle has not returned with them. Apart he lies, +in his victorious field, confounded with the common heaps of humble +dead. After long fruitless searching, they found the royal corpse, not +far from the great stone, which had already stood for centuries +between Lützen and the Merseburg Canal, but which, ever since this +memorable incident, has borne the name of <i>Schwedenstein</i>, the Stone +of the Swede. Defaced with wounds and blood, so as scarcely to be +recognised, trodden under the hoofs of horses, stripped of his +ornaments, even of his clothes, he is drawn from beneath a heap of +dead bodies, brought to Weissenfels, and there delivered to the +lamentations of his troops and the last embraces of his Queen. +Vengeance had first required its tribute, and blood must flow as an +offering to the Monarch; now Love assumes its rights, and mild tears +are shed for the Man. Individual grief is lost in the universal +sorrow. Astounded by this overwhelming stroke, the generals in blank +despondency stand round his bier, and none yet ventures to conceive +the full extent of his loss.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span></p> + +<p>The descriptive powers of the Historian, though the most popular, are +among the lowest of his endowments. That Schiller was not wanting in +the nobler requisites of his art, might he proved from his reflections +on this very incident, 'striking like a hand from the clouds into the +calculated horologe of men's affairs, and directing the considerate +mind to a higher plan of things.' But the limits of our Work are +already reached. Of Schiller's histories and dramas we can give no +farther specimens: of his lyrical, didactic, moral poems we must take +our leave without giving any. Perhaps the time may come, when all his +writings, transplanted to our own soil, may be offered in their entire +dimensions to the thinkers of these Islands; a conquest by which our +literature, rich as it is, might be enriched still farther.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> And yet Mr. Fox is reported to have said: <i>There was +one</i> <small>FREE</small> <i>Government on the Continent, and that one was—Würtemberg.</i> +They had a parliament and 'three estates' like the English.—So much +for paper Constitutions!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> <i>Jördens Lexicon</i>: from which most part of the above +details are taken.—There exists now a decidedly compact, intelligent +and intelligible <i>Life of Schubart</i>, done, in three little volumes, by +Strauss, some years ago. (<i>Note of</i> 1857.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> It clearly appears I am wrong here; I have confounded +the Freiherr Wolfgang Heribert von Dalberg, Director of the Mannheim +Theatre, with Archduke and <i>Fürst Primas</i> Karl Theodor Dalberg, his +younger Brother,—a man justly eminent in the Politico-Ecclesiastical +world of his time, and still more distinguished for his patronage of +letters, and other benefactions to his country, than the Freiherr was. +Neither is the play of <i>Tell</i> 'dedicated' to him, as stated in the +text; there is merely a copy presented, with some verses by the Author +inscribed in it; at which time Karl Theodor was in his <i>sixtieth</i> +year. A man of conspicuous station, of wide activity, and high +influence and esteem in Germany. He was the personal friend of Herder, +Goethe, Schiller, Wieland; by Napoleon he was made <i>Fürst Primas</i>, +Prince Primate of the Confederation of the Rhine, being already +Archbishop, Elector of Mentz, &c. The good and brave deeds he did in +his time appear to have been many, public and private. Pensions to +deserving men of letters were among the number: Zacharias Werner, I +remember, had a pension from him,—and still more to the purpose, Jean +Paul. He died in 1817. There was a third Brother also memorable for +his encouragement of Letters and Arts. "<i>Ist kein Dalberg da</i>, Is +there no Dalberg here?" the Herald cries on a certain occasion. (See +<i>Conv. Lexicon</i>, B. iii.) +</p><p> +To Sir Edward Bulwer, in his <i>Sketch of the Life of Schiller</i> (p. c.), +I am indebted for very kindly pointing out this error; as well as for +much other satisfaction derived from that work. (<i>Note of</i> 1845.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> There have since been copious contributions: +<i>Correspondence with Goethe, Correspondence with Madam von Wolzogen</i>, +and perhaps others which I have not seen. (<i>Note of</i> 1845.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> A curious physiologico-botanical theory by Goethe, which +appears to be entirely unknown in this country; though several eminent +continental botanists have noticed it with commendation. It is +explained at considerable length in this same <i>Morphologie</i>.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX_II" id="APPENDIX_II"></a>APPENDIX II.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> +</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<h2>APPENDIX II.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> preceding Appendix, which is here marked "Appendix <i>First</i>," has +hitherto, in all Editions, been the only one, and has ended the Book. +As indeed, for the common run of English readers, it still essentially +may, or even must. But now, for a more select class, and on +inducements that are accidental and peculiar, there is, in this final +or farewell Edition, which stands without change otherwise, something +to be added as Appendix <i>Second</i>, by the opportunity that offers.</p> + +<p>Schiller has now many readers of his own in England: perhaps the most +and best that read this my poor Account of his <i>Life</i> know something +of Germany and him at first-hand; and have their curiosity awake in +regard to things German:—to such readers, if not to others, I can +expect that the following Reprint or Reproduction of a Piece from the +greatest of Germans, which connects itself with Schiller and this Book +on Schiller, may not be unwelcome. To myself it has become symbolical, +touching and memorable; and much invites my insertion of it here, +since there happens to be room.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Certainly an interesting little circumstance in the history of this +Book, and to me the one circumstance that now has any interest, is, +That a German Translation of it had the altogether unexpected honour +of an Introductory Preface by Goethe, in the last years of his life. A +beautiful small event to me and mine, in our then remote circle; +coming suddenly upon us, like a little outbreak of sunshine and azure, +in the common gray element there! It was one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> more salient +points of a certain individual relation, and far-off personal +intercourse, which had arisen some years before, with the great man +whom we had never seen, and never saw; and which was very beautiful, +high, singular and dear to us,—to myself, and to <span class="smcap">Another</span> who is not +with me now. A little gleam as of celestial radiancy, miraculous +almost, but indisputable, shining out on us always from time to time; +somewhat ennobling for us the much of impediment that lay there, and +forbidding it altogether to impede. Truly there are few things I now +remember with a more bright or pious feeling than our then relation, +amid the Scottish moors, to the man whom of all others I the most +honoured, and felt that I was the most indebted to. Looking back on +all this, through the vista of almost forty years, and what they have +brought and have taken, I decide to reproduce this Goethe +<i>Introduction</i>, as a little pillar of memorial, while time yet is.</p> + +<p>Many of my present readers, too, readers especially of this Volume, +may have their curiosities about the "Introduction (<i>Einleitung</i>)" of +so small a thing by so great a man (which withal is a Piece not to be +found in the great man's <i>Collected Works</i>, or elsewhere that I know +of):—and will good-naturedly allow me to have my own way with it, +namely to reprint it here in the original words. And will not even +quarrel with me if I reproduce in <i>facsimile</i> those poor +"<i>Verzierungen</i> (Copperplates)" of Goethe's devising, Shadows of Human +Dwellings far away; judging well how beautiful and full of meaning the +poorest of them now is to me.</p> + + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em">Subjoined, on the next page, is Goethe's List or 'special Indication' +of these latter; the only words of his which, on this occasion, I +translate as well (<i>Note of 1868</i>):<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p> + +<h4>'<span class="smcap">Special Indication of the Localities represented</span>.</h4> + +<p class="negative">'<i>Frontispiece</i>, Thomas Carlyle's House in the County of +Dumfries, South of Scotland.</p> + +<p class="negative">'<i>Titlepage Vignette</i>, The Same in the distance.</p> + +<p class="negative">'<i>Upper-side of Cover</i>, Schiller's House in Weimar.</p> + +<p class="negative">'<i>Under-side of Cover</i>, Solitary small Apartment in +Schiller's Garden, over the Leutra Brook in Jena, built by +himself; where, in the completest seclusion, he wrote many +things, <i>Maria Stuart</i> in particular. After his removal from +Jena, and subsequent decease, the little Edifice was taken +away as threatening to fall ruinous; and we wished here to +preserve the remembrance of it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/illo383.jpg"><img src="images/illo383_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + + + + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<h4><a name="Naehere_Bezeichnung_der_dargestellten_Lokalitaeten" id="Naehere_Bezeichnung_der_dargestellten_Lokalitaeten"></a>Nähere Bezeichnung der dargestellten Lokalitäten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span></h4> + + +<p class="negative">Titelkupfer, Thomas Carlyles Wohnung in der Graffschaft +Dumfries, des südlichen Schottlands.</p> + +<p class="negative">Titel-Vignette, dieselbe in der Ferne.</p> + +<p class="negative">Vorderseite des Umschlags, Wohnung Schillers in Weimar.</p> + +<p class="negative">Rückseite des Umschlags, einsames Häuschen in Schillers +Garten, über der Jenaischen Leutra, von ihm selbst +errichtet; wo er in vollkommenster Einsamkeit manches, +besonders Maria Stuart schrieb. Nach seiner Entfernung und<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> +erfolgtem Scheiden, trug man es ab, wegen Wandelbarkeit, und +man gedachte hier das Andenken desselben zu erhalten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span><a href="images/illo385.jpg"><img src="images/illo385_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + + +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span><a href="images/illo387.jpg"><img src="images/illo387_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + + +<h1><small>Thomas Carlyle</small><br /><br /> + +Leben Schillers,<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 65%; letter-spacing: 0.25ex">aus dem Englischen;</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 50%; letter-spacing: 0.25ex">eingeleitet</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 50%">durch</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="letter-spacing: 0.35ex">Goethe.</span></h1> + + +<p class="publisher">Frankfurt am Main, 1830.<br /> +<span style="letter-spacing: 0.25ex">Verlag von Heinrich Wilmans.</span></p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 4em; padding-bottom: 2em; letter-spacing: 0.25ex; text-indent: 0em"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> +Der hochansehnlichen<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 250%">Gesellschaft</span><br /> +<br /> +für ausländische<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 150%">schöne Literatur,</span><br /> +<br /> +zu<br /> +<br /> +<big>Berlin.</big></p> + +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span></p> + +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Als gegen Ende des vergangenen Jahres ich die angenehme Nachricht +erhielt, dass eine mir freundlich bekannte Gesellschaft, welche bisher +ihre Aufmerksamkeit inländischer Literatur gewidmet hatte, nunmehr +dieselbe auf die ausländische zu wenden gedenke, konnte ich in meiner +damaligen Lage nicht ausführlich und gründlich genug darlegen, wie +sehr ich ein Unternehmen, bey welchen man auch meiner auf das +geneigteste gedacht hatte, zu schätzen wisse.</p> + +<p>Selbst mit gegenwärtigem öffentlichen Ausdruck meines dankbaren +Antheils geschieht nur fragmentarisch was ich im bessern Zusammenhang +zu überliefern gewünscht hätte. Ich will aber auch das wie es mir +vorliegt nicht zurückweisen, indem ich meinen Hauptzweck dadurch zu +erreichen hoffe, dass ich nämlich meine Freunde mit einem Manne in +Berührung bringe, welchen ich unter diejenigen zähle, die in späteren +Jahren sich an mich thätig angeschlossen, mich<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> durch eine +mitschreitende Theilnahme zum Handeln und Wirken aufgemuntert, und +durch ein edles, reines wohlgerichtetes Bestreben wieder selbst +verjüngt, mich, der ich sie heranzog, mit sich fortgezogen haben. Es +ist der Verfasser des hier übersetzten Werkes, Herr <em class="gesperrt">Thomas Carlyle</em>, +ein Schotte, von dessen Thätigkeit und Vorzügen, so wie von dessen +näheren Zuständen nachstehende Blätter ein Mehreres eröffnen werden.</p> + +<p>Wie ich denselben und meine Berliner Freunde zu kennen glaube, so wird +zwischen ihnen und ihm eine frohe wirksame Verbindung sich einleiten +und beide Theile werden, wie ich hoffen darf, in einer Reihe von +Jahren sich dieses Vermächtnisses und seines fruchtbaren Erfolges +zusammen erfreuen, so dass ich ein fortdauerndes Andenken, um welches +ich hier schliesslich bitten möchte, schon als dauernd gegönnt, mit +anmuthigen Empfindungen voraus geniessen kann.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 4em">in treuer Anhänglichkeit und Theilnahme.</p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; padding-left: 2em">Weimar April<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 1.5em">1830.</span></p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 4em"><em class="gesperrt">J. W. v. Goethe.</em><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.5em; text-indent: 0em">Es ist schon einige Zeit von einer allgemeinen Weltliteratur die Rede +und zwar nicht mit Unrecht: denn die sämmtlichen Nationen, in den +fürchterlichsten Kriegen durcheinander geschüttelt, sodann wieder auf +sich selbst einzeln zurückgeführt, hatten zu bemerken, dass sie +manches Fremde gewahr worden, in sich aufgenommen, bisher unbekannte +geistige Bedürfnisse hie und da empfunden. Daraus entstand das Gefühl +nachbarlicher Verhältnisse, und anstatt dass man sich bisher +zugeschlossen hatte, kam der Geist nach und nach zu dem Verlangen, +auch in den mehr oder weniger freyen geistigen Handelsverkehr mit +aufgenommen zu werden.</p> + +<p>Diese Bewegung währt zwar erst eine kurze Weile, aber doch immer lang +genug, um schon einige Betrachtungen darüber anzustellen, und aus ihr +bald möglichst, wie man es im Waarenhandel ja auch thun muss, Vortheil +und Genuss zu gewinnen.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Gegenwärtiges, zum Andenken <em class="gesperrt">Schillers</em>, geschriebene Werk kann, +übersetzt, für uns kaum etwas Neues brin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span>gen; der Verfasser nahm seine +Kenntnisse aus Schriften, die uns längst bekannt sind, so wie denn +auch überhaupt die hier verhandelten Angelegenheiten bey uns öfters +durchgesprochen und durchgefochten worden.</p> + +<p>Was aber den Verehrern <em class="gesperrt">Schillers</em>, und also einem jeden Deutschen, wie +man kühnlich sagen darf, höchst erfreulich seyn muss, ist: unmittelbar +zu erfahren, wie ein zartfühlender, strebsamer, einsichtiger Mann über +dem Meere, in seinen besten Jahren, durch <em class="gesperrt">Schillers</em> Productionen +berührt, bewegt, erregt und nun zum weitern Studium der deutschen +Literatur angetrieben worden.</p> + +<p>Mir wenigstens war es rührend, zu sehen, wie dieser, rein und ruhig +denkende Fremde, selbst in jenen ersten, oft harten, fast rohen +Productionen unsres verewigten Freundes, immer den edlen, +wohldenkenden, wohlwollenden Mann gewahr ward und sich ein Ideal des +vortrefflichsten Sterblichen an ihm auferbauen konnte.</p> + +<p>Ich halte deshalb dafür dass dieses Werk, als von einem Jüngling +geschrieben, der deutschen Jugend zu empfehlen seyn möchte: denn wenn +ein munteres Lebensalter einen Wunsch haben darf und soll, so ist es +der: in allem Geleisteten das Löbliche, Gute, Bildsame, Hochstrebende, +genug das Ideelle, und selbst in dem nicht Musterhaften, das +allgemeine Musterbild der Menschheit zu erblicken.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Ferner kann uns dieses Werk von Bedeutung seyn, wenn wir ernstlich +betrachten: wie ein fremder Mann die <em class="gesperrt">Schillerischen</em> Werke, denen wir +so mannigfaltige Kultur verdanken, auch als Quelle der seinigen +schätzt, verehrt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span> und dies, ohne irgend eine Absicht, rein und ruhig +zu erkennen giebt.</p> + +<p>Eine Bemerkung möchte sodann hier wohl am Platze seyn: dass sogar +dasjenige, was unter uns beynahe ausgewirkt hat, nun, gerade in dem +Augenblicke welcher auswärts der deutschen Literatur günstig ist, +abermals seine kräftige Wirkung beginne und dadurch zeige, wie es auf +einer gewissen Stufe der Literatur immer nützlich und wirksam seyn +werde.</p> + +<p>So sind z. B. <em class="gesperrt">Herders</em> Ideen bey uns dergestalt in die Kenntnisse der +ganzen Masse übergegangen, dass nur wenige, die sie lesen, dadurch +erst belehrt werden, weil sie, durch hundertfache Ableitungen, von +demjenigen was damals von grosser Bedeutung war, in anderem +Zusammenhange schon völlig unterrichtet worden. Dieses Werk ist vor +kurzem ins Französische übersetzt; wohl in keiner andern Ueberzeugung +als dass tausend gebildete Menschen in Frankreich sich immer noch an +diesen Ideen zu erbauen haben.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>In Bezug auf das dem gegenwärtigen Bande vorgesetzte Bild sey +folgendes gemeldet: Unser Freund, als wir mit ihm in Verhältniss +traten, war damals in Edinburgh wohnhaft, wo er in der Stille lebend, +sich im besten Sinne auszubilden suchte, und, wir dürfen es ohne +Ruhmredigkeit sagen, in der deutschen Literatur hiezu die meiste +Förderniss fand.</p> + +<p>Später, um sich selbst und seinen redlichen literarischen Studien +unabhängig zu leben, begab er sich, etwa zehen deutsche Meilen +südlicher, ein eignes Besitzthum zu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span> bewohnen und zu benutzen, in die +Grafschaft Dumfries. Hier, in einer gebirgigen Gegend, in welcher der +Fluss Nithe dem nahen Meere zuströmt, ohnfern der Stadt Dumfries, an +einer Stelle welche Craigenputtock genannt wird, schlug er mit einer +schönen und höchst gebildeten Lebensgefährtin seine ländlich einfache +Wohnung auf, wovon treue Nachbildungen eigentlich die Veranlassung zu +gegenwärtigem Vorworte gegeben haben.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Gebildete Geister, zartfühlende Gemüther, welche nach fernem Guten +sich bestreben, in die Ferne Gutes zu wirken geneigt sind, erwehren +sich kaum des Wunsches, von geehrten, geliebten, weitabgesonderten +Personen das Portrait, sodann die Abbildung ihrer Wohnung, so wie der +nächsten Zustände, sich vor Augen gebracht zu sehen.</p> + +<p>Wie oft wiederholt man noch heutiges Tags die Abbildung von Petrarch's +Aufenthalt in Vaucluse, Tasso's Wohnung in Sorent! Und ist nicht immer +die Bieler Insel, der Schutzort Rousseau's, ein seinen Verehrern nie +genugsam dargestelltes Local?</p> + +<p>In eben diesem Sinne hab' ich mir die Umgebungen meiner entfernten +Freunde im Bilde zu verschaffen gesucht, und ich war um so mehr auf +die Wohnung Hrn. <em class="gesperrt">Thomas Carlyle</em> begierig, als er seinen Aufenthalt in +einer fast rauhen Gebirgsgegend unter dem 55ten Grade gewählt hatte.</p> + +<p>Ich glaube durch solch eine treue Nachbildung der neulich +eingesendeten Originalzeichnungen gegenwärtiges Buch zu zieren und dem +jetzigen gefühlvollen Leser, viel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span>leicht noch mehr dem künftigen, +einen freundlichen Gefallen zu erweisen und dadurch, so wie durch +eingeschaltete Auszüge aus den Briefen des werthen Mannes, das +Interesse an einer edlen allgemeinen Länder- und Weltannäherung zu +vermehren.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + + +<p class="center"><big><em class="gesperrt">Thomas Carlyle</em> an <em class="gesperrt">Goethe</em>.</big></p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">Craigenputtock den 25. Septbr. 1828. +</p> + +<p>"Sie forschen mit so warmer Neigung nach unserem gegenwärtigen +Aufenthalt und Beschäftigung, dass ich einige Worte hierüber sagen +muss, da noch Raum dazu übrig bleibt. Dumfries ist eine artige Stadt, +mit etwa 15000 Einwohnern und als Mittelpunct des Handels und der +Gerichtsbarkeit anzusehen eines bedeutenden Districkts in dem +schottischen Geschäftskreis. Unser Wohnort ist nicht darin, sondern 15 +Meilen (zwei Stunden zu reiten) nordwestlich davon entfernt, zwischen +den Granitgebirgen und dem schwarzen Moorgefilde, welche sich +westwärts durch Gallovay meist bis an die irische See ziehen. In +dieser Wüste von Heide und Felsen stellt unser Besitzthum eine grüne +Oase vor, einen Raum von geackertem, theilweise umzäumten und +geschmückten Boden, wo Korn reift und Bäume Schatten gewähren, +obgleich ringsumher von Seemöven und hartwolligen Schaafen umgeben. +Hier, mit nicht geringer Anstrengung, haben wir für uns eine reine, +dauerhafte Wohnung erbaut und eingerichtet; hier wohnen wir in +Ermangelung einer Lehr- oder andern öffentlichen Stelle, um uns der +Literatur zu befleissigen, nach eigenen Kräften uns damit zu +beschäftigen. Wir wünschen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> dass unsre Rosen und Gartenbüsche fröhlich +heranwachsen, hoffen Gesundheit und eine friedliche Gemüthsstimmung, +um uns zu fordern. Die Rosen sind freylich zum Theil noch zu pflanzen, +aber sie blühen doch schon in Hoffnung.</p> + +<p>Zwei leichte Pferde, die uns überall hintragen, und die Bergluft sind +die besten Aerzte für zarte Nerven. Diese tägliche Bewegung, der ich +sehr ergeben bin, ist meine einzige Zerstreuung; denn dieser Winkel +ist der einsamste in Brittanien, sechs Meilen von einer jeden Person +entfernt die mich allenfalls besuchen möchte. Hier würde sich Rousseau +eben so gut gefallen haben, als auf seiner Insel St. Pierre.</p> + +<p>Fürwahr meine städtischen Freunde schreiben mein Hierhergehen einer +ähnlichen Gesinnung zu und weissagen mir nichts Gutes; aber ich zog +hierher, allein zu dem Zweck meine Lebensweise zu vereinfachen und +eine Unabhängigkeit zu erwerben, damit ich mir selbst treu bleiben +könne. Dieser Erdraum ist unser, hier können wir leben, schreiben und +denken wie es uns am besten däucht, und wenn Zoilus selbst König der +Literatur werden sollte.</p> + +<p>Auch ist die Einsamkeit nicht so bedeutend, eine Lohnkutsche bringt +uns leicht nach Edinburgh, das wir als unser brittisch Weimar ansehen. +Habe ich denn nicht auch gegenwärtig eine ganze Ladung von +französischen, deutschen, amerikanischen, englischen Journalen und +Zeitschriften, von welchem Werth sie auch seyn mögen, auf den Tischen +meiner kleinen Bibliothek aufgehäuft!</p> + +<p>Auch an alterthümlichen Studien fehlt es nicht. Von einigen unsrer +Höhen entdeck' ich, ohngefähr eine Tagereise westwärts, den Hügel, wo +Agrikola und seine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> Römer ein Lager zurückliessen; am Fusse desselben +war ich geboren, wo Vater und Mutter noch leben um mich zu lieben. Und +so muss man die Zeit wirken lassen. Doch wo gerath ich hin! Lassen Sie +mich noch gestehen, ich bin ungewiss über meine künftige literarische +Thätigkeit, worüber ich gern Ihr Urtheil vernehmen möchte; gewiss +schreiben Sie mir wieder und bald, damit ich mich immer mit Ihnen +vereint fühlen möge."</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Wir, nach allen Seiten hin wohlgesinnten, nach allgemeinster Bildung +strebenden Deutschen, wir wissen schon seit vielen Jahren die +Verdienste würdiger schottischer Männer zu schätzen. Uns blieb nicht +unbekannt, was sie früher in den Naturwissenschaften geleistet, woraus +denn nachher die Franzosen ein so grosses Uebergewicht erlangten.</p> + +<p>In der neuern Zeit verfehlten wir nicht den lichen Inflows +anzuerkennen, den ihre Philosophie auf die Sinnesänderung der +Franzosen ausübte, um sie von dem starren Sensualism zu einer +geschmeidigern Denkart auf dem Wege des gemeinen Menschenverstandes +hinzuleiten. Wir verdankten ihnen gar manche gründliche Einsicht in +die wichtigsten Fächer brittischer Zustände und Bemühungen.</p> + +<p>Dagegen mussten wir vor nicht gar langer Zeit unsre +ethisch-ästhetischen Bestrebungen in ihren Zeitschriften auf eine +Weise behandelt sehen, wo es zweifelhaft blieb, ob Mangel an Einsicht +oder böser Wille dabey obwaltete; ob eine oberflächliche, nicht genug +durchdringende Ansicht,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> oder ein widerwilliges Vorurtheil im Spiele +sey. Dieses Ereigniss haben wir jedoch geduldig abgewartet, da uns ja +dergleichen im eignen Vaterlande zu ertragen genügsam von jeher +auferlegt worden.</p> + +<p>In den letzten Jahren jedoch erfreuen uns aus jenen Gegenden die +liebevollsten Blicke, welche zu erwiedern wir uns verpflichtet fühlen +und worauf wir in gegenwärtigen Blättern unsre wohldenkenden +Landsleute, insofern es nöthig seyn sollte, aufmerksam zu machen +gedenken.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Herr <em class="gesperrt">Thomas Carlyle</em> hatte schon den <em class="gesperrt">Wilhelm Meister</em> übersetzt und gab +sodann vorliegendes Leben <em class="gesperrt">Schillers</em> im Jahre 1825 heraus.</p> + +<p>Im Jahre 1827 erschien <i>German Romances</i> in 4 Bänden, wo er, aus den +Erzählungen und Mährchen deutscher Schriftsteller als: <em class="gesperrt">Musäus</em>, <em class="gesperrt">La +Motte Fouqué</em>, <em class="gesperrt">Tieck</em>, <em class="gesperrt">Hoffmann</em>, <em class="gesperrt">Jean Paul</em> und <em class="gesperrt">Goethe</em>, heraushob, was er +seiner Nation am gemässesten zu seyn glaubte.</p> + +<p>Die einer jeden Abtheilung vorausgeschickten Nachrichten von dem +Leben, den Schriften, der Richtung des genannten Dichters und +Schriftstellers geben ein Zeugniss von der einfach wohlwollenden +Weise, wie der Freund sich möglichst von der Persönlichkeit und den +Zuständen eines jeden zu unterrichten gesucht, und wie er dadurch auf +den rechten Weg gelangt, seine Kenntnisse immer mehr zu +vervollständigen.</p> + +<p>In den Edinburgher Zeitschriften, vorzüglich in denen welche +eigentlich fremder Literatur gewidmet sind, finden sich nun, ausser +den schon genannten deutschen Autoren,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> auch <em class="gesperrt">Ernst Schulz</em>, <em class="gesperrt">Klingemann</em>, +<em class="gesperrt">Franz Horn</em>, <em class="gesperrt">Zacharias Werner</em>, Graf <em class="gesperrt">Platen</em> und manche andere, von +verschiedenen Referenten, am meisten aber von unserm Freunde, +beurtheilt und eingeführt.</p> + +<p>Höchst wichtig ist bey dieser Gelegenheit zu bemerken, dass sie +eigentlich ein jedes Werk nur zum Text und Gelegenheit nehmen, um über +das eigentliche Feld und Fach, so wie alsdann über das besondere +Individuelle, ihre Gedanken zu eröffnen und ihr Gutachten meisterhaft +abzuschliessen.</p> + +<p>Diese <i>Edinburgh Reviews</i>, sie seyen dem Innern und Allgemeinen, oder +den auswärtigen Literaturen besonders gewidmet, haben Freunde der +Wissenschaften aufmerksam zu beachten; denn es ist höchst merkwürdig, +wie der gründlichste Ernst mit der freysten Uebersicht, ein strenger +Patriotismus mit einem einfachen reinen Freysinn, in diesen Vorträgen +sich gepaart findet.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Geniessen wir nun von dort, in demjenigen was uns hier so nah angeht, +eine reine einfache Theilnahme an unsern ethisch-ästhetischen +Bestrebungen, welche für einen besondern Charakterzug der Deutschen +gelten können, so haben wir uns gleichfalls nach dem umzusehen, was +ihnen dort von dieser Art eigentlich am Herzen liegt. Wir nennen hier +gleich den Namen <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em>, von welchem ein Schreiben des Herrn <em class="gesperrt">Carlyle's</em> +folgende Stelle enthält.</p> + +<p>"Das einzige einigermassen Bedeutende, was ich seit meinem Hierseyn +schrieb, ist ein Versuch über <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> Vielleicht habt Ihr niemals von +diesem Mann gehört, und doch war er einer der entschiedensten Genies; +aber in der tiefsten Classe der Landleute geboren und durch die +Verwicklungen sonderbarer Lagen zuletzt jammervoll zu Grunde +gerichtet, so dass was er wirkte verhältnissmässig geringfügig ist; er +starb in der Mitte der Manns-Jahre (1796)."</p> + +<p>"Wir Engländer, besonders wir Schottländer, lieben <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em> mehr als +irgend einen Dichter seit Jahrhunderten. Oft war ich von der Bemerkung +betroffen, er sey wenig Monate vor <em class="gesperrt">Schiller</em>, in dem Jahr 1759 geboren +und keiner dieser beiden habe jemals des andern Namen vernommen. Sie +glänzten als Sterne in entgegengesetzten Hemisphären, oder, wenn man +will, eine trübe Erdatmosphäre fing ihr gegenseitiges Licht auf."</p> + +<p>Mehr jedoch als unser Freund vermuthen mochte, war uns <em class="gesperrt">Robert Burns</em> +bekannt; das allerliebste Gedicht <i>John Barley-Corn</i> war anonym zu uns +gekommen, und verdienter Weise geschätzt, veranlasste solches manche +Versuche unsrer Sprache es anzueignen. <i>Hans Gerstenkorn</i>, ein +wackerer Mann, hat viele Feinde, die ihn unablässig verfolgen und +beschädigen, ja zuletzt gar zu vernichten drohen. Aus allen diesen +Unbilden geht er aber doch am Ende triumphirend hervor, besonders zu +Heil und Fröhlichkeit der leidenschaftlichen Biertrinker. Gerade in +diesem heitern genialischen Anthropomorphismus zeigt sich <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em> als +wahrhaften Dichter.</p> + +<p>Auf weitere Nachforschung fanden wir dieses Gedicht in der Ausgabe +seiner poetischen Werke von 1822, welcher eine Skizze seines Lebens +voransteht, die uns wenigstens<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> von den Aeusserlichkeiten seiner +Zustände bis auf einen gewissen Grad belehrte. Was wir von seinen +Gedichten uns zueignen konnten, überzeugte uns von seinem +ausserordentlichen Talent, und wir bedauerten, dass uns die +Schottische Sprache gerade da hinderlich war, wo er des reinsten +natürlichsten Ausdrucks sich gewiss bemächtigt hatte. Im Ganzen jedoch +haben wir unsre Studien so weit geführt, dass wir die nachstehende +rühmliche Darstellung auch als unsrer Ueberzeugung gemäss +unterschreiben können.</p> + +<p>Inwiefern übrigens unser <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em> auch in Deutschland bekannt sey, mehr +als das Conversations-Lexicon von ihm überliefert, wüsste ich, als der +neuen literarischen Bewegungen in Deutschland unkundig, nicht zu +sagen; auf alle Fälle jedoch gedenke ich die Freunde auswärtiger +Literatur auf die kürzesten Wege zu weisen: <i>The Life of Robert Burns. +By J. G. Lockhart. Edinburgh 1828</i>, rezensirt von unserm Freunde im +<i>Edinburgh Review</i>, December 1828.</p> + +<p>Nachfolgende Stellen daraus übersetzt, werden den Wunsch, das Ganze +und den genannten Mann auf jede Weise zu kennen, hoffentlich lebhaft +erregen.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>"<em class="gesperrt">Burns</em> war in einem höchst prosaischen Zeitalter, dergleichen +Brittanien nur je erlebt hatte, geboren, in den aller ungünstigsten +Verhältnissen, wo sein Geist nach hoher Bildung strebend ihr unter dem +Druck täglich harter körperlicher Arbeit nach zu ringen hatte, ja +unter Mangel und trostlosesten Aussichten auf die Zukunft; ohne +Förderniss als die Begriffe, wie sie in eines armen Mannes Hütte +wohnen, und allenfalls die Reime von Ferguson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> und Ramsay, als das +Muster der Schönheit aufgesteckt. Aber unter diesen Lasten versinkt er +nicht; durch Nebel und Finsterniss einer so düstern Region entdeckt +sein Adlerauge die richtigen Verhältnisse der Welt und des +Menschenlebens, er wächst an geistiger Kraft und drängt sich mit +Gewalt zu verständiger Erfahrung. Angetrieben durch die +unwiderstehliche Regsamkeit seines inneren Geistes strauchelt er +vorwärts und zu allgemeinen Ansichten, und mit stolzer Bescheidenheit +reicht er uns die Frucht seiner Bemühungen, eine Gabe dar, welche +nunmehr durch die Zeit als unvergänglich anerkannt worden."</p> + +<p>"Ein wahrer Dichter, ein Mann in dessen Herzen die Anlage eines reinen +Wissens keimt, die Töne himmlischer Melodien vorklingen, ist die +köstlichste Gabe, die einem Zeitalter mag verliehen werden. Wir sehen +in ihm eine freyere, reinere Entwicklung alles dessen was in uns das +Edelste zu nennen ist; sein Leben ist uns ein reicher Unterricht und +wir betrauern seinen Tod als eines Wohlthäters, der uns liebte so wie +belehrte."</p> + +<p>"Solch eine Gabe hat die Natur in ihrer Güte uns an <em class="gesperrt">Robert Burns</em> +gegönnt; aber mit allzuvornehmer Gleichgültigkeit warf sie ihn aus der +Hand als ein Wesen ohne Bedeutung. Es war entstellt und zerstört ehe +wir es anerkannten, ein ungünstiger Stern hatte dem Jüngling die +Gewalt gegeben, das menschliche Daseyn ehrwürdiger zu machen, aber ihm +war eine weisliche Führung seines eigenen nicht geworden. Das +Geschick – denn so müssen wir in unserer Beschränktheit reden – seine +Fehler, die Fehler der Andern lasteten zu schwer auf ihm, und dieser +Geist, der sich erhoben hatte, wäre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span> es ihm nur zu wandern geglückt, +sank in den Staub; seine herrlichen Fähigkeiten wurden in der Blüthe +mit Füssen getreten. Er starb, wir dürfen wohl sagen, ohne jemals +gelebt zu haben. Und so eine freundlich warme Seele, so voll von +eingebornen Reichthümern, solcher Liebe zu allen lebendigen und +leblosen Dingen! Das späte Tausendschönchen fällt nicht unbemerkt +unter seine Pflugschar, so wenig als das wohlversorgte Nest der +furchtsamen Feldmaus, das er hervorwühlt. Der wilde Anblick des +Winters ergötzt ihn; mit einer trüben, oft wiederkehrenden +Zärtlichkeit, verweilt er in diesen ernsten Scenen der Verwüstung; +aber die Stimme des Windes wird ein Psalm in seinem Ohr; wie gern mag +er in den sausenden Wäldern dahin wandern: denn er fühlt seine +Gedanken erhoben zu dem, der auf den Schwingen des Windes +einherschreitet. Eine wahre Poetenseele! sie darf nur berührt werden +und ihr Klang ist Musik."</p> + +<p>"Welch ein warmes allumfassendes Gleichheitsgefühl! welche +vertrauenvolle, gränzenlose Liebe! welch edelmuthiges Ueberschätzen +des geliebten Gegenstandes! Der Bauer, sein Freund, sein nussbraunes +Mädchen sind nicht länger gering und dörfisch, Held vielmehr und +Königin, er rühmt sie als gleich würdig des Höchsten auf der Erde. Die +rauhen Scenen schottischen Lebens sieht er nicht im arkadischen +Lichte, aber in dem Rauche, in dem unebenen Tennenboden einer solchen +rohen Wirthlichkeit findet er noch immer Liebenswürdiges genug. Armuth +fürwahr ist sein Gefährte, aber auch Liebe und Muth zugleich; die +einfachen Gefühle, der Werth, der Edelsinn, welche unter dem Strohdach +wohnen, sind lieb und ehrwürdig<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span> seinem Herzen. Und so über die +niedrigsten Regionen des menschlichen Daseyns ergiesst er die Glorie +seines eigenen Gemüths und sie steigen, durch Schatten und +Sonnenschein gesänftigt und verherrlicht, zu einer Schönheit, welche +sonst die Menschen kaum in dem Höchsten erblicken."</p> + +<p>"Hat er auch ein Selbstbewusstseyn, welches oft in Stolz ausartet, so +ist es ein edler Stolz, um abzuwehren, nicht um anzugreifen, kein +kaltes misslaunisches Gefühl, ein freyes und geselliges. Dieser +poetische Landmann beträgt sich, möchten wir sagen, wie ein König in +der Verbannung; er ist unter die Niedrigsten gedrängt und fühlt sich +gleich den Höchsten; er verlangt keinen Rang, damit man ihm keinen +streitig mache. Den Zudringlichen kann er abstossen, den Stolzen +demüthigen, Vorurtheil auf Reichthum oder Altgeschlecht haben bey ihm +keinen Werth. In diesem dunklen Auge ist ein Feuer, woran sich eine +abwürdigende Herablassung nicht wagen darf; in seiner Erniedrigung, in +der äussersten Noth vergisst er nicht für einen Augenblick die +Majestät der Poesie und Mannheit. Und doch, so hoch er sich über +gewöhnlichen Menschen fühlt, sondert er sich nicht von ihnen ab, mit +Wärme nimmt er an ihrem Interesse Theil, ja er wirft sich in ihre Arme +und, wie sie auch seyen, bittet er um ihre Liebe. Es ist rührend zu +sehen, wie in den düstersten Zuständen dieses stolze Wesen in der +Freundschaft Hülfe sucht, und oft seinen Busen dem Unwürdigen +aufschliesst; oft unter Thränen an sein glühendes Herz ein Herz +andrückt, das Freundschaft nur als Namen kennt. Doch war er scharf und +schnellsichtig, ein Mann vom durch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span>dringendsten Blick, vor welchem +gemeine Verstellung sich nicht bergen konnte. Sein Verstand sah durch +die Tiefen des vollkommensten Betrügers, und zugleich war eine +grossmüthige Leichtgläubigkeit in seinem Herzen. So zeigte sich dieser +Landmann unter uns: Eine Seele wie Aeolsharfe, deren Saiten vom +gemeinsten Winde berührt, ihn zu gesetzlicher Melodie verwandelten. +Und ein solcher Mann war es für den die Welt kein schicklicher +Geschäft zu finden wusste, als sich mit Schmugglern und Schenken +herumzuzanken, Accise auf den Talg zu berechnen und Bierfässer zu +visiren. In solchem Abmühen ward dieser mächtige Geist kummervoll +vergeudet, und hundert Jahre mögen vorüber gehen, eh uns ein gleicher +gegeben wird, um vielleicht ihn abermals zu vergeuden."</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Und wie wir den Deutschen zu ihrem <em class="gesperrt">Schiller</em> Glück wünschen, so wollen +wir in eben diesem Sinne auch die Schottländer segnen. Haben diese +jedoch unserm Freunde so viel Aufmerksamkeit und Theilnahme erwiesen, +so wär' es billig, dass wir auf gleiche Weise ihren <em class="gesperrt">Burns</em> bey uns +einführten. Ein junges Mitglied der hochachtbaren Gesellschaft, der +wir gegenwärtiges im Ganzen empfohlen haben, wird Zeit und Mühe +höchlich belohnt sehen, wenn er diesen freundlichen Gegendienst einer +so verehrungswürdigen Nation zu leisten den Entschluss fassen und das +Geschäft treulich durchführen will. Auch wir rechnen den belobten +<em class="gesperrt">Robert Burns</em> zu den ersten Dichtergeistern, welche das vergangene +Jahrhundert hervorgebracht hat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span></p> + +<p>Im Jahr 1829 kam uns ein sehr sauber und augenfällig gedrucktes +Octavbändchen zur Hand: <i>Catalogue of German Publications, selected +and systematically arranged for W. H. Koller and Jul. Cahlmann. +London.</i></p> + +<p>Dieses Büchlein, mit besonderer Kenntniss der deutschen Literatur, in +einer die Uebersicht erleichternden Methode verfasst, macht demjenigen +der es ausgearbeitet und den Buchhändlern Ehre, welche ernstlich das +bedeutende Geschäft übernehmen eine fremde Literatur in ihr Vaterland +einzuführen, und zwar so dass mann in allen Fächern übersehen könne +was dort geleistet worden, um so wohl den Gelehrten den denkenden +Leser als auch den fühlenden und Unterhaltung suchenden anzulocken und +zu befriedigen. Neugierig wird jeder deutsche Schriftsteller und +Literator, der sich in irgend einem Fache hervorgethan, diesen Catalog +aufschlagen um zu forschen: ob denn auch seiner darin gedacht, seine +Werke, mit andern Verwandten, freundlich aufgenommen worden. Allen +deutschen Buchhändlern wird es angelegen seyn zu erfahren: wie man +ihren Verlag über dem Canal betrachte, welchen Preis man auf das +Einzelne setze und sie werden nichts verabsäumen um mit jenen die +Angelegenheit so ernsthaft angreifenden Männern in Verhältniss zu +kommen, und dasselbe immerfort lebendig erhalten.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Wenn ich nun aber das von unserm Schottischen Freunde vor soviel +Jahren verfasste Leben <em class="gesperrt">Schillers</em>, auf das er mit einer ihm so wohl +anstehenden Bescheidenheit zurücksieht, hiedurch einleite und +gegenwärtig an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> den Tag fördere, so erlaube er mir einige seiner +neusten Aeusserungen hinzuzufügen, welche die bisherigen gemeinsamen +Fortschritte am besten deutlich machen möchten.</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + + +<p class="center"><big><em class="gesperrt">Thomas Carlyle</em> an <em class="gesperrt">Goethe</em>.</big></p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2em">den 22. December 1829.</p> + +<p>"Ich habe zu nicht geringer Befriedigung zum zweitenmale den +<em class="gesperrt">Briefwechsel</em> gelesen und sende heute einen darauf gegründeten Aufsatz +über <em class="gesperrt">Schiller</em> ab für das <i>Foreign Review</i>. Es wird Ihnen angenehm seyn +zu hören, dass die Kentniss und Schätzung der auswärtigen, besonders +der deutschen Literatur, sich mit wachsender Schnelle verbreitet so +weit die englische Zunge herrscht; so dass bey den Antipoden, selbst +in Neuholland, die Weisen Ihres Landes ihre Weisheit predigen. Ich +habe kürzlich gehört, dass sogar in Oxford und Cambridge, unsern +beiden englischen Universitäten, die bis jetzt als die Haltpuncte der +insularischen eigenthümlichen Beharrlichkeit sind betrachtet worden, +es sich in solchen Dingen zu regen anfängt. Ihr <em class="gesperrt">Niebuhr</em> hat in +Cambridge einen geschickten Uebersetzer gefunden und in Oxford haben +zwei bis drei Deutsche schon hinlängliche Beschäftigung als Lehrer +ihrer Sprache. Das neue Licht mag für gewisse Augen zu stark seyn; +jedoch kann Niemand an den guten Folgen zweifeln, die am Ende daraus +hervorgehen werden. Lasst Nationen wie Individuen sich nur einander +kennen und der gegenseitige Hass wird sich in gegenwärtige +Hülfleistung verwandeln, und anstatt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> natürlicher Feinde, wie +benachbarte Länder zuweilen genannt sind, werden wir alle natürliche +Freunde seyn."</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<p>Wenn uns nach allen diesem nun die Hoffnung schmeichelt, eine +Uebereinstimmung der Nationen, ein allgemeineres Wohlwollen werde sich +durch nähere Kentniss der verschiedenen Sprachen und Denkweisen, nach +und nach erzeugen; so wage ich von einem bedeutenden Inflows der +deutschen Literatur zu sprechen, welcher sich in einem besondern Falle +höchst wirksam erweisen möchte.</p> + +<p>Es ist nämlich bekannt genug, dass die Bewohner der drei brittischen +Königreiche nicht gerade in dem besten Einverständnisse leben, sondern +dass vielmehr ein Nachbar an dem andern genügsam zu tadeln findet, um +eine heimliche Abneigung bey sich zu rechtfertigen.</p> + +<p>Nun aber bin ich überzeugt, dass wie die deutsche ethisch-ästhetische +Literatur durch das dreifache Brittanien sich verbreitet, zugleich +auch eine stille Gemeinschaft von <em class="gesperrt">Philogermanen</em> sich bilden werde, +welche in der Neigung zu einer vierten, so nahverwandten Völkerschaft, +auch unter einander, als vereinigt und verschmolzen sich empfinden +werden.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="Schillers_Leben" id="Schillers_Leben"></a><em class="gesperrt">Schillers Leben.</em></h2> + +<p class="center" style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0em; margin-top: 2em"><em class="gesperrt">Erster Abschnitt.</em></p> + +<p class="center" style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0em; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em"><em class="gesperrt">Seine Jugend</em> (1759-1784.)</p> + +<p>Unter allen Schriftstellern ist am Schluss des letzten Jahrhunderts +wohl keiner der Aufmerksamkeit würdiger, als <em class="gesperrt">Friedrich Schiller</em>. +Ausgezeichnet durch glänzenden Geist, erhabenes Gefühl und edlen +Geschmack liess er den schönsten Abdruck dieser selten vereinigten +Eigenschaften in seinen Werken zurück. Der ausgebreitete Ruhm, welcher +ihm dadurch geworden,...</p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">... es sind neue Formen der Wahrheiten, neue Grundsätze der Weisheit, +neue Bilder und Scenen der Schönheit, die er dem leeren formlosen +unendlichen Raum abgenommen; zum <ins class="correction" +title="Transcribed as: 'ktêma eis aei'">κτημα εις αει</ins> + oder zum ewigen Eigenthum aller Geschlechter dieses Erdballs.<span style="float: right; padding-right: 1.5em;">[s. 301.]</span><br style="clear: both" /></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">... die unsere Literatur, so reich sie auch schon an sich ist, noch +ungleich mehr bereichern würde.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span> + +<span style="float: right; padding-right: 1.5em;">[<i>Anhang</i>, s. 54.]</span><br style="clear: both" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span></p> + + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SUMMARY_AND_INDEX" id="SUMMARY_AND_INDEX"></a>SUMMARY AND INDEX.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span></h2> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="SUMMARY" id="SUMMARY"></a>SUMMARY.</h2> + + +<h3>PART I.<br /><br /> + +<small>SCHILLER'S YOUTH.</small><br /> + +<small>(1759-1784.)</small></h3> + + +<p>Introductory remarks: Schiller's high destiny. His Father's career: +Parental example and influences. Boyish caprices and aspirations. (p. +<a href="#Page_3">3</a>.)—His first schoolmaster: Training for the Church: Poetical +glimmerings. The Duke of Würtemberg, and his Free Seminary: Irksome +formality there. Aversion to the study of Law and Medicine. +(<a href="#Page_9">9</a>.)—Literary ambition and strivings: Economic obstacles and pedantic +hindrances: Silent passionate rebellion. Bursts his fetters. +(<a href="#Page_13">13</a>.)—<i>The Robbers</i>: An emblem of its young author's baffled, madly +struggling spirit: Criticism of the Characters in the Play, and of the +style of the work. Extraordinary ferment produced by its publication: +Exaggerated praises and condemnations: Schiller's own opinion of its +moral tendency. (<a href="#Page_17">17</a>.)—Discouragement and persecution from the Duke of +Würtemberg. Dalberg's generous sympathy and assistance. Schiller +escapes from Stuttgard, empty in purse and hope: Dalberg supplies his +immediate wants: He finds hospitable friends. (<a href="#Page_28">28</a>.)—Earnest literary +efforts. Publishes two tragedies, <i>Fiesco</i> and <i>Kabale und Liebe</i>. His +mental growth. Critical account of the Conspiracy of Fiesco: Fiesco's +genial ambition: The Characters of the Play nearer to actual humanity. +How all things in the Drama of Life hang inseparably together. +(<a href="#Page_35">35</a>.)—<i>Kabale und Liebe</i>, a domestic tragedy of high merit: Noble and +interesting characters of hero and heroine. (<a href="#Page_42">42</a>.)—The stormy +confusions of Schiller's youth now subsiding. Appointed poet to the +Mannheim Theatre. Nothing to fear from the Duke of Würtemberg. The +Public, his only friend and sovereign. A Man of Letters for the rest +of his days. (<a href="#Page_46">46</a>.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>PART II.<br /><br /> + +<small>FROM HIS SETTLEMENT AT MANNHEIM<br /> TO HIS SETTLEMENT AT JENA.</small><br /> + +<small>(1784-1790:)</small></h3> + +<p>Reflections: Difference between knowing and doing: Temptations and +perils of a literary life: True Heroism. Schiller's earnest and +steadfast devotion to his Ideal Good: Misery of idleness and +indecision. (p. <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.)—German esteem for the Theatre. Theatrical, and +deeper than theatrical activities: The <i>Rheinische Thalia</i> and +<i>Philosophische Briefe</i>. The two Eternities: The bog of Infidelity +surveyed but not crossed. (<a href="#Page_56">56</a>.)—Insufficiency of Mannheim. A pleasant +tribute of regard. Letter to Huber: Domestic tastes. Removes to +Leipzig. Letter to his friend Schwann: A marriage proposal. +Fluctuations of life. (<a href="#Page_63">63</a>.)—Goes to Dresden. <i>Don Carlos</i>: Evidences +of a matured mind: Analysis of the Characters: Scene of the King and +Posa. Alfieri and Schiller contrasted. (<a href="#Page_73">73</a>.)—Popularity: Crowned with +laurels, but without a home. Forsakes the Drama. Lyrical productions: +<i>Freigeisterei der Leidenschaft</i>. The <i>Geisterseher</i>, a Novel. Tires +of fiction. Studies and tries History. (<a href="#Page_95">95</a>.)—Habits at Dresden. +Visits Weimar and Bauerbach. The Fraülein Lengefeld: Thoughts on +Marriage. (<a href="#Page_102">102</a>.)—First interview with Goethe: Diversity in their +gifts: Their mistaken impression of each other. Become better +acquainted: Lasting friendship. (<a href="#Page_106">106</a>.)—History of the <i>Revolt of the +Netherlands</i>. The truest form of History-writing. Appointed Professor +at Jena. Friendly intercourse with Goethe. Marriage. (<a href="#Page_112">112</a>.)</p> + + +<h3>PART III.<br /><br /> + +<small>FROM HIS SETTLEMENT AT JENA TO HIS DEATH.</small><br /> + +<small>(1790-1805.)</small></h3> + +<p>Academical duties. Study of History: Cosmopolitan philosophy, and +national instincts. History of the <i>Thirty-Years War</i>. (p. +<a href="#Page_119">119</a>.)—Sickness, and help in it. Heavy trial for a literary man. +Schiller's unabated zeal. (<a href="#Page_125">125</a>.)—Enthusiasm and conflicts excited by +Kant's Philosophy. Schiller's growing interest in the subject: Letters +on <i>Æsthetic Culture</i>, &c. Claims of Kant's system to a respectful +treatment. (<a href="#Page_129">129</a>.)—Fastidiousness and refinement of taste. Literary +projects: Epic poems: Returns to the Drama. Outbreak of the French +Revolution. (<a href="#Page_137">137</a>.)—Edits the <i>Horen</i>: Connexion with Goethe. A +pleasant visit to his parents. Mode of life at Jena:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> Night-studies, +and bodily stimulants. (<a href="#Page_143">143</a>.)—<i>Wallenstein</i>: Brief sketch of its +character and compass: Specimen scenes, Max Piccolomini and his +Father; Max and the Princess Thekla; Thekla's frenzied grief: No +nobler or more earnest dramatic work. (<a href="#Page_152">152</a>.)—Removes to Weimar: +Generosity of the Duke. Tragedy of <i>Maria Stuart</i>. (<a href="#Page_178">178</a>.)—The <i>Maid +of Orleans</i>: Character of Jeanne d'Arc: Scenes, Joanna and her +Suitors; Death of Talbot; Joanna and Lionel. Enthusiastic reception of +the play. (<a href="#Page_181">181</a>.)—Daily and nightly habits at Weimar. The <i>Bride of +Messina</i>. <i>Wilhelm Tell</i>: Truthfulness of the Characters and Scenery: +Scene, the Death of Gossler. (<a href="#Page_201">201</a>.)—Schiller's dangerous illness. +Questionings of Futurity. The last sickness: Many things grow clearer: +Death. (<a href="#Page_219">219</a>.)—General sorrow for his loss. His personal aspect: +Modesty and simplicity of manner: Mental gifts. (<a href="#Page_222">222</a>.)—Definitions of +genius. Poetic sensibilities and wretchedness: In such miseries +Schiller had no share. A fine example of the German character: No +cant; no cowardly compromising with his own conscience: Childlike +simplicity. Literary Heroism. (<a href="#Page_227">227</a>.)</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + +<h3>SUPPLEMENT OF 1872.</h3> + +<p>Small Book by Herr Saupe, entitled <i>Schiller and his Father's +Household</i>. Really interesting and instructive. Translation, with +slight corrections and additions. (p. <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.)</p> + + +<h4>SCHILLER'S FATHER.</h4> + +<p>Johann Caspar Schiller, born in Würtemberg, 27th October 1723. At ten +years a fatherless Boy poorly educated, he is apprenticed to a +barber-surgeon. Becomes 'Army Doctor' to a Bavarian regiment. Settles +in Marbach, and marries the daughter of a respectable townsman, +afterwards reduced to extreme poverty. The marriage, childless for the +first eight years. Six children in all: The Poet Schiller the only +Boy. (p. <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.)—Very meagre circumstances. At breaking-out of the +Seven-Years War returns to the Army. At the Ball of Fulda; at the +Battle of Leuthen. Cheerfully undertakes anything useful. Earnestly +diligent and studious. Greatly improves in general culture, and even +saves money. (<a href="#Page_244">244</a>.)—Boards his poor Wife with her Father. His first +Daughter and his only Son born there. At the close of the War he +carries his Wife and Children to his own quarters. A just man; simple, +strong, expert; if also somewhat quick and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> rough. (<a href="#Page_246">246</a>.) Solicitude +for his Son's education. Appointed Recruiting Officer, with permission +to live with his Family at Lorch. The children soon feel themselves at +home and happy. Little Fritz receives his first regular school +instruction, much to the comfort of his Father. Holiday rambles among +the neighbouring hills: Brotherly and Sisterly affection. Touches of +boyish fearlessness: Where does the lightning come from? (<a href="#Page_248">248</a>.)—The +Family run over to Ludwigsburg. Fritz to prepare for the clerical +profession. At the Latin School, cannot satisfy his Father's anxious +wishes. One of his first poems. (<a href="#Page_253">253</a>.)—The Duke of Würtemberg notices +his Father's worth, and appoints him Overseer of all his Forest +operations: With residence at his beautiful Forest-Castle, Die +Solitüde. Fritz remains at the Ludwigsburg Latin School: Continual +exhortations and corrections from Father and Teacher. Youthful heresy. +First acquaintance with a Theatre. (<a href="#Page_255">255</a>.)—The Duke proposes to take +Fritz into his Military Training-School. Consternation of the Schiller +Family. Ineffectual expostulations: Go he must. Studies Medicine. +Altogether withdrawn from his Father's care. Rigorous seclusion and +constraint. The Duke means well to him. (<a href="#Page_258">258</a>.)—Leaves the School, and +becomes Regimental-Doctor at Stuttgard. His Father's pride in him. +Extravagance and debt. His personal appearance. (<a href="#Page_260">260</a>.)—Publication of +the <i>Robbers</i>. His Father's mingled feelings of anxiety and +admiration. Peremptory command from the Duke to write no more poetry, +on pain of Military Imprisonment. Prepares for flight with his friend +Streicher. Parting visit to his Family at Solitüde: His poor Mother's +bitter grief. Escapes to Mannheim. Consternation of his Father. +Happily the Duke takes no hostile step. (<a href="#Page_263">263</a>.)—Disappointments and +straits at Mannheim. Help from his good friend Streicher. He sells +<i>Fiesco</i>, and prepares to leave Mannheim. Through the kindness of Frau +von Wolzogen he finds refuge in Bauerbach. Affectionate Letter to his +Parents. His Father's stern solicitude for his welfare. (<a href="#Page_268">268</a>.)—Eight +months in Bauerbach, under the name of Doctor Ritter. Unreturned +attachment to Charlotte Wolzogen. Returns to Mannheim. Forms a settled +engagement with Dalberg, to whom his Father writes his thanks and +anxieties. Thrown on a sick-bed: His Father's admonitions. He vainly +urges his Son to petition the Duke for permission to return to +Würtemberg; the poor Father earnestly wishes to have him near him +again. Increasing financial difficulties. More earnest fatherly +admonition and advice. Enthusiastic reception of <i>Kabale und Liebe</i>. +<i>Don Carlos</i> well in hand. A friend in trouble through mutual debts. +Applies to his Father for unreasonable help. Annoyance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span> at the +inevitable refusal. His Father's loving and faithful expostulation. +His Sister's proposed marriage with Reinwald. (<a href="#Page_273">273</a>.)—Beginning of his +friendly intimacy with the excellent Körner. The Duke of Weimar +bestows on him the title of Rath. No farther risk for him from +Würtemberg. At Leipzig, Dresden, Weimar. Settles at last as Professor +in Jena. Marriage and comfortable home: His Father well satisfied, and +joyful of heart. Affectionate Letter to his good Father. +(<a href="#Page_282">282</a>.)—Seized with a dangerous affection of the chest. Generous +assistance from Denmark. Joyful visit to his Family, after an absence +of eleven years. Writes a conciliatory Letter to the Duke. Birth of a +Son. The Duke's considerateness for Schiller's Father. The Duke's +death. (<a href="#Page_286">286</a>.)—Schiller's delight in his Sisters, Luise and Nanette. +Letter to his Father. Visits Stuttgard. Returns with Wife and Child to +Jena. Assists his Father in publishing the results of his long +experiences of gardens and trees. Beautiful and venerable old age. +(<a href="#Page_290">290</a>.)—Thick-coming troubles for the Schiller Family. Death of the +beautiful Nanette in the flower of her years: Dangerous illness of +Luise: The Father bedrid with gout. The poor weakly Mother bears the +whole burden of the household distress. Sister Christophine, now +Reinwald's Wife, hastens to their help. Schiller's anxious sympathy. +His Father's death. Grateful letters to Reinwald and to his poor +Mother. (<a href="#Page_296">296</a>.)</p> + + +<h4>HIS MOTHER.</h4> + +<p>Elizabetha Dorothea Kodweis, born at Marbach, 1733. An unpretending, +soft and dutiful Wife, with the tenderest Mother-heart. A talent for +music and even for poetry. Verses to her Husband. Troubles during the +Seven-Years War. Birth of little Fritz. The Father returns from the +War. Mutual helpfulness, and affectionate care for their children. She +earnestly desires her Son may become a Preacher. His confirmation. Her +disappointment that it was not to be. (p. <a href="#Page_300">300</a>.)—Her joy and care for +him whenever he visited his Home. Her innocent delight at seeing her +Son's name honoured and wondered at. Her anguish and illness at their +long parting. Brighter days for them all. She visits her Son at Jena. +He returns the visit with Wife and Child. Her strength in adversity. +Comfort in her excellent Daughter Christophine. Her Husband's death. +Loving and helpful sympathy from her Son. (<a href="#Page_307">307</a>.)—Receives a pension +from the Duke. Removes with Luise to Leonberg. Marriage of Luise. +Happy in her children's love and in their success in life. Her last +illness and death. Letters from Schiller to his Sister Luise and her +kind husband. (<a href="#Page_318">318</a>.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>HIS SISTERS.</h4> + +<p>Till their Brother's flight the young girls had known no misfortune. +Diligent household occupations, and peaceful contentment. A +love-passage in Christophine's young life. Her marriage with Reinwald. +His unsuccessful career: Broken down in health and hope. +Christophine's loving, patient and noble heart. For twenty-nine years +they lived contentedly together. Through life she was helpful to all +about her; never hindersome to any. (p. <a href="#Page_324">324</a>.)—Poor Nanette's brief +history. Her excitement, when a child, on witnessing the performance +of her Brother's <i>Kabale und Liebe</i>. Her ardent secret wish, herself +to represent his Tragedies on the Stage. All her young glowing hopes +stilled in death. (<a href="#Page_331">331</a>.)—Luise's betrothal and marriage. An anxious +Mother, and in all respects an excellent Wife. Her Brother's last +loving Letter to her. His last illness, and peaceful death. (<a href="#Page_333">333</a>.)</p> + +<hr class="thought" /> + + +<h3>APPENDIX I.</h3> + + +<h4>No. 1. DANIEL SCHUBART.</h4> + +<p>Influence of Schubart's persecutions on Schiller's mind. His Birth and +Boyhood. Sent to Jena to study Theology: Profligate life: Returns +home. Popular as a preacher: Skilful in music. A joyful, piping, +guileless mortal. (p. <a href="#Page_341">341</a>.)—Prefers pedagogy to starvation. Marries. +Organist to the Duke of Würtemberg. Headlong business, amusement and +dissipation. His poor Wife returns to her Father: Ruin and banishment. +A vagabond life. (<a href="#Page_343">343</a>.)—Settles at Augsburg, and sets up a Newspaper: +Again a prosperous man: Enmity of the Jesuits. Seeks refuge in Ulm: +His Wife and Family return to him. The Jesuits on the watch. +Imprisoned for ten years: Interview with young Schiller. (<a href="#Page_346">346</a>.)—Is at +length liberated. Joins his Wife at Stuttgard, and reëstablishes his +Newspaper. Literary enterprises: Death. Summary of his character. +(<a href="#Page_351">351</a>.)</p> + + +<h4>No. 2. LETTERS OF SCHILLER TO DALBERG.</h4> + +<p>Brief account of Dalberg. Schiller's desire to remove to Mannheim. +Adaptation of the <i>Robbers</i> to the stage. (p. <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.)—Struggles to get +free from Stuttgard and his Ducal Jailor: Dalberg's friendly help. +Friendly letter to his friend Schwann. (<a href="#Page_362">362</a>.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>No. 3. FRIENDSHIP WITH GOETHE.</h4> + +<p>Goethe's feeling of the difference in their thoughts and aims: Great +Nature <i>not</i> a phantasm of her children's brains. Growing sympathy and +esteem, unbroken to the end. (p. <a href="#Page_371">371</a>.)</p> + + +<h4>No. 4. DEATH OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.</h4> + +<p>Schiller's historical style. A higher than descriptive power. (p. +<a href="#Page_375">375</a>.)</p> + + +<h3>APPENDIX II.</h3> + +<p>Schiller's Life into German; Author's Note thereon. (p. +<a href="#Page_380">380</a>.)—Goethe's introduction (in German), with Four Prints. (<a href="#Page_393">393</a>.)</p> + +<div class="note"> + +<p class="center" style="font-weight: bold">Transcriber's Notes</p> +<p>The obvious typographic errors have been corrected. The original +formatting of the drama parts has been reproduced. Please hover your mouse over the words with a thin dotted gray line +underneath them to see the transcription of Greek phrases.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Life of Friedrich Schiller, by Thomas Carlyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF FRIEDRICH SCHILLER *** + +***** This file should be named 23209-h.htm or 23209-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/2/0/23209/ + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Henry Craig, Irma Spehar and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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