thence he made a brief sojourn at Rudolstadt, but a memorable one, as it was here that he saw the Fraulein von Langefeld. This event called forth the following observations in a letter to a friend: gently, not only in reading and writing history, but also in the continued cultivation of poetry. He was at all times, as such a mind might be expected to be, devoted to classical literature. But, at this period, he imposed on himself a course of this study with a direct view to the purification of taste and style. He studied Homer profoundly, and with great delight. He translated into German the "Iphigenia "I require a medium through which to enjoy other pleasures. Friendship, taste, truth and beauty would operate on me more powerfully, if an unbroken train of refined, beneficent, domestic sentiments attuned me to joy, and renewed the warmth of my torpid being. Hith-in Aulis" (with the exception of the last erto I have been an isolated stranger wander- scene), and a part of the "Phoenissæ" of ing about amid nature, and have possessed Euripides. His freedom, yet accuracy, nothing of my own. I yearn for a political particularly in the former of these translaand domestic existence. For many years I tions, can scarcely be sufficiently admired. have known no perfect happiness, not so much He projected a version of the "Agamemfor want of opportunities, as because I rather non" of Eschylus, a play in which he tasted pleasures than enjoyed them, and want ed that even, equable, and gentle susceptibili- much delighted. Bürger visited him at ty which only the quiet of domestic life be- Weimar, in 1789, and the friends agreed to translate the same passage of Virgil, each in a metre of his own selection. These studies had a perceptible influence on his poetry, particularly his dramas. stows." It may be well imagined that Schiller repaired to Rudolstadt again, as early as possible. He spent the following summer there, and partly at Volkstädt, in the same neighborhood. Here he cultivated the friendship of the Langefeld family, and extended the circle of his friends; and during this sojourn he made his first acquaintance with Goethe. His first impressions of the great master of German imagination are thus detailed : 66 Schiller's inaugural lecture at Jena was attended by an audience of more than 400; nor did it disappoint the high expectation which had been formed of it. His pen was now a ready and certain source of emolument; a History of the Thirty Years' War," and a "German Plutarch," among various minor literary enterprises, were put in preparation. He was admired and caressed by the great; a pension was assigned him by the Duke of Saxe Weimar, and there was now no obstacle to the fulfilment of his dearest wishes. In February, 1790, he had the happiness to obtain the hand of the Fraulein von Langefeld. We here cast together, from several of his letters, as selected by Körner, passages de "On the whole, my truly high idea of Goethe has not been diminished by this personal intercourse; but I doubt whether we shall ever approach very closely. Much which is yet interesting to me, much which is yet among my wishes and my hopes, has with him lived out its period. His whole being is, from the first, very differently constituted from mine; his world is not mine. Our modes of imagination are essentially distinct. Howev-scriptive of his enjoyment:It is quite aner, no certain and well-grounded intimacy can result from such a meeting. Time will teach further." for other life, by the side of a beloved woman, from that which I led before, so desolate and solitary; even in summer, I now, the first time, enjoy beautiful Nature entireAnd the lesson was soon imparted; es- ly, and live in her. All around me is arpecially when it is considered that all Goe- rayed in poetic forms, and within me, too, the's prejudices were revolted by "The they are oft stirring. What a beautiful Robbers," and that he had actually avoid-life am I now leading! I gaze around ed an interview as long as possible. But me with joyful spirit, and my heart finds in a few months Goethe's interest in Schil- an everduring gentle satisfaction from ler, and high estimate of his abilities, were without! my soul experiences such sweet practically exemplified. "The Revolt of the Netherlands" had in part seen the light, and obtained high reputation for Schiller as a historian. By the efforts of Goethe, he was now appointed to the Chair of History in the University of Jena. support and refreshment! My being moves in harmonious evenness; not overstrained by passion, but calm and bright are the days which I pass. I look forward on my destiny with cheerful spirit; standing at the goal of my desires, I am myself astonIn this situation Schiller labored dili-ished to think how all has succeeded beyond my expectations. Destiny has overcome [ of metaphysics. He had formed, at Jena, my difficulties, and brought me smoothly the friendship of Paulus, Schutz, Hufeland, to the end of my career. From the future and Reinhold; and by them he was iniI have every thing to hope. A few years, tiated in the philosophy of Kant, which he and I shall live in the full enjoyment of has exemplified in some of his prose wrimy mind; nay, I even hope to return to tings. To this Sir Bulwer Lytton attribyouth; the poet-life within me will restore utes the Christian conviction and religious it." tone which, after this period (so marked as to be called "the third" in Schiller's Life), pervades his compositions. We would rather ascribe it to the teaching of sickness, before the revelations of which the mists of sophistry and self-confidence vanish as in daylight. The thirtieth Psalm will still afford illustration. When David was troubled, his testimony was, "I cried unto thee, O Lord; and unto the Lord I made supplication." It is impossible to doubt that Schiller did likewise; or that he experienced a like return from Him who is unchangeable. This language, while it proves the writer's affection, purity, and elevation of mind, conveys a painful impression that his worldly happiness had rendered him insensible, at least for a time, to considerations which are not less needful in such moments than amid the darkest sorrows; but of which our ingratitude then most loses sight, when the love which would awaken them is most conspicuous. How little do we know our real happiness, when we envy the sunshine of Schiller's heart, or repine in the night of solitude and abandonment! In that sunshine he had lost sight of the History, next to poetry, was Schiller's pole-star whereby alone his voyage could favorite employment; and he now occupied be directed, and which is ever clearest himself in an eminently congenial work, when other lights are away. In his pros- and that on which his reputation, as a prose perity, like the Psalmist, he had said, "I writer, is chiefly founded:-The History shall never be moved;" and, too proba- of the Thirty Years' War. This work apbly, even without the pious acknowledg-peared in Göschen's Historical Almanack. ment which qualified that presumption, This passage of history, from its poetical "Lord, by thy favor Thou hast made my character, had always a peculiar charm for mountain to stand strong." For though Schiller; and various were his poetical proSchiller, under all circumstances, had nev-jects in connexion with it. They resulted er lost the first fresh devotional feelings of at length in the noblest productions of his his boyhood, and had admitted doubts with pain, and desired to escape from them, yet he could not be as one whose faith was steadfastly grounded on the sure Rock of Revelation. Like the Psalmist, however, he could add, "Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled." Mercy and chastisement, each involved in the other, overtook him in the beginning of the following year. He was afflicted with a severe attack of disease of the chest, from which, though "fifteen years were added to his life," he never recovered. His whole frame was shattered; and repeated relapses left him incapable of public lectures and every other laborious exertion. The diminution of income consequent on this calamity added much to its severity. But this was not long to be a part of his distress. The Crown Prince of Denmark, and the Count von Schimmelmann, offered him a salary of 100 thalers for three years, with a delicacy and kindness, as he informs us, not less gratifying than the boon itself. Unembarrassed now by narrow circumstances and public duties, he gave himself to the study pen, the two tragedies on the subject of Wallenstein. It is remarkable that, during this latter task, he had much less confidence in his poetic powers, criticised his former writings with severity, and acknowledged that he had become a new man in poetry. The truth was, his taste had grown severer, and his judgment riper, and his mind had been disciplined by the study of the ancients; in particular of Aristotle, whom he had found to differ far from the French theories ascribed to him. Schiller's genius was never more vigorous or brilliant, but it was now under guidance and command. The "Wallenstein" occupied seven years. During this period, the French Revolution was approaching its bloody crisis. Schiller gave the most unquestionable proof of his hostility to its barbarous principles by projecting an address to the French people in favor of their monarch, monarchy, order, and religion; a project which was not executed only because he could meet with no person who would undertake to translate his intended work into French. In 1793, the poet revisited the scenes and compan 440 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SCHILLER. ions of his youth, having previously ascer- might direct the theatre there, accord- 66 "Mac other he betook himself in the summer, to have On his return to Jena, Schiller conceived But he afterwards settled entirely at Weileisure and opportunity for composition. a new literary project. He had formed an intimacy with William von Humboldt (bro- increased the pension bestowed by the mar. The reigning duke continued and ther of the celebrated traveller), who was Danish prince, though Schiller's literary then at Jena, and in concert with him, and his successes placed him beyond the need of it. more distinguished friend Goethe, he started a periodical called "Die Horen," to which cession by his other plays. "Wallenstein " was followed in rapid sucthe most eminent literary men of Germany appeared in 1800; "The Maid of Orleans" Mary Stuart" contributed. This was a fertile period with in 1801; The Bride of Messina" in 1803; our poet, who contributed largely to this" William Tell work, and to "The Almanack of the period he translated Shakspeare's in 1804. During this Muses," while he continued to labor ener-beth,' getically at "Wallenstein." This period cine's "Phædra," besides some Gozzi's Turandot," and Raalso produced the "Xenien," a collection pieces. While occupied in the tragedy of of varied epigrams, which have widely in-" fluenced the literature of Germany; and plaint ended his life on the 9th of May, Demetrius," a severe return of his comthe ballads, which are some of the most at-1805. His death exemplified tranquillity tractive of Schiller's writings, were the re- and hope. He was, as has been above obsult of a friendly rivalry with Goethe about served, a different man after the first accesthis time. "Wallenstein" saw the light in sion of his illness; and the teaching he 1797. Two portions of this magnificent had received from his first affliction was yet work are well known to English readers, in further improved by others. In the last ten the no less magnificent translation of Cole-years of his life he lost his sister, father, ridge. It consists of three parts; the first and mother; the two former in the same called "Wallenstein's Camp," introductory, year (1796). "He felt both losses acutely," which Coleridge has not rendered, as it says Sir Bulwer Lytton; "the last perhaps adds nothing to the dramatic interest. is not, however, without its uses; as de- see the philosopher return to the old childIt the most; but in his letters it pleases us to picting the license and turbulence of Wal-like faith in God, the reliance on divine lenstein's soldiery, and inspiring the reader goodness for support in grief, the trust in with a high idea of the commanding intel- divine mercy for the life to come. lect and military tact which restrained so has been remarked with justice, that while For it many thousands of lawless and discordant Schiller's reason is often troubled in regard spirits, not only in subordination, but at- to the fundamental truths of religion, his tachment. It has, moreover, somewhat the heart is always clear. The moment death same relation to the following parts that the strikes upon his affections, the phraseology Satiric Drama had to Tragedy among the of the schools vanishes from his lips-its Greeks. The other divisions of the poem cavils and scruples from his mind; and he are intituled "The Piccolomini," and "The comforts himself and his fellow-mourners Death of Wallenstein." The towering am- with the simple lessons of gospel resignabition, and all-mastering genius of the hero tion and gospel hope." It is singular that -the cold steady loyality of Octavio Picco- the writer of this passage failed to perceive lomini, which all that genius is powerless that the philosophy which Schiller found to touch-the high, confiding, devoted spir-powerless to console affliction, could scarceit of his son, who will not abandon Wallen-ly have been that which aided him so efstein till his treason is palpable, and then fectually in the trying season of incipient hesitates not to sacrifice all for his sovereign disease. -the gentle beauty and devotedness of Thekla-these are pictures which have never been surpassed. About this time Schiller changed his winter abode to Weimar, in order that, in conjunction with his friend Goethe, he A few words on some of his latest dramas must conclude this memoir. While Sir Bulwer Lytton passes on the "Mary we cannot concur in the censure which Stuart," there can, we think, be no question of its inferiority to " The Maid of Or We conclude this article with a few extracts from Schiller's dramatic productions. BOYISH FRIENDSHIP. DON CARLOS, Act 1. Scene 2. leans." "Mary Stuart" is a beautiful widen, and to sanctify, the reverential discreature of imagination; for such we must position that inclines to Faith." This is call her, notwithstanding her historical saying much for one educated in the imname; as, without entering on the much perfect system of German Protestantism, litigated question of Mary's real conduct and exposed to metaphysical temptation in under several suspicious circumstances, the no ordinary degree. poetical Mary is certainly much more that childlike ideal perfection which Schiller loved to contemplate, than the nursling of courts and the directress and intimate of statesmen. Nor, indeed, is the character strictly self-consistent; for it embraces, in some degree, the latter view. "Joanna" is still further removed from the Joan of history, than Mary from her historical prototype; but she is altogether a character of a higher order, and appears to have been drawn with higher views, to exemplify and teach exalted truth. It is difficult to conceive that Schiller's mind, while occupied with this poem, was not deeply influenced by spiritual religion; that he did not feel what he evidently so well understood. Besides, it was his avowed intention, not without a lingering of his early predilections, to make the stage a kind of pulpit, and inculcate from it a Christian morality. And the "Maid of Orleans" has done even as He AH! let me weep, and on thy bosom shed dare There is no place-none else where I could tion.] Persuade thyself I am an orphan child, alone And in the morning of our life awoke more. The blessing of obedience, the evil of the smallest sin, the necessity and blessedness of contrition, are there depicted in the liveliest colors. "The Bride of Messina" is an attempt to familiarize the modern stage with the chorus. Its plot is sim-Mong millions found to understand my state; ple, but unpleasing. The lyrical portions Should it be true, that Nature's parent hand are of consummate beauty. "William In Carlos re-created Roderick, Tell" is the impersonation of Civil liberty, "Joanna" is of spiritual religion. is of a very different order from Charles Moor in "The Robbers;" and, indeed, but for the assassination of the tyrant, he might stand as a noble representative of the abstraction. The catastrophe was historical, yet we know that Schiller did not consider his fictions necessarily to be limited by history. But, as Sir Bulwer Lytton truly remarks, throughout the whole breathes the condemnation of the French chy." anar In a sketch of this kind we have necessarily left unnoticed great numbers of pieces, both in prose in verse, the productions of Schiller's fertile pen. Of the general character of his works we would say with Sir Bulwer Lytton, "The whole scope and tendency of his writings, taken one with the other, are eminently Christian. No German writer, no writer not simply theological, has done more to increase, to MARQUIS. 'Tis dearer far than all the world besides. CARLOS. So low I'm fallen, and so poor I'm grown, cold. Oft stood I there yet thou observed'st it not! "Why only these?" I mournfully exclaimed: MARQUIS. O cease, Prince, from these boyish recollections, Which make me still red with the blush of shame. CARLOS. This did I merit not from thee. Despise Thou might'st, and deeply wound my heart, but ne'er Estrange it from thee. Thrice the Prince repulsed, Thrice he came back to thee a suppliant, T' implore thy love, and force his own on thee. It happened in our games thy shuttlecock The culprit to denounce-The treacherous act feet MARY STUART'S IMPRISONMENT RE LAXED. MARY STUART. Act III. Scene I. (Our own version, as we are not aware of another.) [A Park-The foreground occupied with treesAn extensive prospect in the backgroundMary runs forward in haste from behind the trees-Hannah Kennedy, (her nurse,) follows at a distance.] KENNEDY. You hasten, e'en as though you were on wing! MARY. Let me enjoy my new freedom's pleasure! Are the black walls of my dungeon riven? KENNEDY. O my dear lady! you are still imprison'd; MARY. CARLOS. It was wreaked. In presence of the servants of the court, Who all stood round compassionate, wreaked Upon thy Carl, fully as on a slave. Thanks, thanks again, to those dear friendly trees, O why awake me from that happy dream? I looked at thee and wept not; though the pang At thee, and wept not-thou cam'st up and threw'st |