on to their Brother, has been introduced incidentally above. Besides which, Saupe's flowing pages are too long for our spac

1757; married 'June 1786;

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 prome

-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 thither by Reinwald; who had begged to have that honour allowed him; h

ieutenant 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

g. Employment Reinwald got, but of the meanest Kanzlist (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 Geheimer Kanzlist (kind of Private Secretary) to Vienna, with a view 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

rn, 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 sterli

her." 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 Stubengelehrten (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

ed 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 purcha

er 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 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 tragical

mber 1777, died 23d Mar

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

rt theatre. With great excitement, and breath held-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,

m 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 he

; 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 chee

s 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,

6; married 20th October 1799

g, and poor Nanette caught the infection, Luise, with all her tender assiduities and household talent, was there; but, soon after Nanette's death,

ess 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

cted 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 excell

of affectionate apology for long silence,-apology, and hope of doing b

27th Ma

er 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 then, on feeling myself again better, there was

r 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 lon

ain so unfortunate with thy confinement! Perhaps your new situation might permit you, thi

d chicken-pox; and poor little Emilie" (a babe of four months) "had much to suffer in the affair.

aintance 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 h

ithful

hil

cheer. The 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 roy

rom Eyewitnesses one glimpse of Schiller's own deathbed. It is t

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, Beziehungen, often quoted above. It was to that same Cousin Wolzogen's Mother (Caroline von Wolzogen,

rite, 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 pill

TNO

Julius Saupe, Subconrector am Gymnasium zu Gera.

en von Gustav Schwa

e von Wolzogen, born von Lengefeld (Schiller's

ogen, aus den Familien-Papieren. By Baroness von Gleichen (Schiller's y

r's rough bit of Autobiography, called 'Meine Lebensgeschichte,' in Schiller's Beziehung

4

W?chter

is und Dank

end lob'

' und Himme

aupe,

pe, pp.

4

liebte

e ich z?rt

t heut' voll

ott dies Ja

quickt zu

ie Quelle a

ets Ihr Tros

ei Ihres He

Ihr erwuns

on alle Lie

Sorgfalt

soll alle

sich stets

Fleiss und

ich auf d

enk' mir nur

' mein Wunsch

toph Friedri

nuarii A

aupe,

bid. p

aupe,

ler's Leben (Stutt

Appendix

b, Schille

aupe,

e, p. 136

upe, pp

5

im Thal Vergiss

bei! Dann hat'

den Kranz zu di

h als der am Ho

dass itzt der ka

ens Keim in kalt

t nicht, es ist m

mit Dir die Freude

tinguished for his blusterous exaggerations, numb-footed

ehungen,

Curriculum Vit?," in Beziehungen, pp. 15-18), is a List of his s

ne Friedericke, born 4 S

riedrich, born 10 Nove

atharina, born 24 Ja

ovember 1768, at Ludwigsburg:

4 May 1773, at Ludwigsburg:

1777, at Solitüde;'-(this is she they ca

ehungen,

173, citing St

e many of Christophine's Letters,

upe, pp

Voss, an eyewitness; and C

END

. PAG

L SCH

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. Sc

diligence, and every virtue but 'the understrapping virtue of discretion:' such is frequently the constitution of the poet; the natural result of it also has frequently been pointed out, and suf

d 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

his parents, unable any longer to support such expenses, were glad to seize the first opening in his cursus, 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 scie

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 an

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 indifferen

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 belo

d 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 approximation 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 requita

cable 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

hop of Würzburg; was rewarded by his Princely Reverence 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

ic and gave concerts; he set up a spouting establishment, recited newly-published poems, read Klopstock's Messias 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

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 m

a Letter from Vienna, 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 he 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 Schlitten with this wolf in sheep's clothing, and away th

e 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 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 S

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!'[67] 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'

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 B?hm as well as of Voltaire. For afflicted, irresolute, imaginative men like Schubart, this is not a rare or altogether

f 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 t

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

s newspaper. The Deutsche Chronik 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 Joannes a temporibus, the 'Wandering,' or as Schubart's countrymen denominate him the 'Eternal Jew,' into a novel hero, was a mighty favourite with him. In this antique cordwaine

arshes 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 mo

ritings 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 Volkslied; 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

and infatuated poet! The image of his persecutions added speed to Schiller's flight from Stuttgard; ma

. PAG

S OF S

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 wi

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 Inte

atron, 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

letter is

da

ere 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, 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

its actors, the non plus ultra 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 economical circumstances render it

ilise his original edition of the Robbers, and still wished much to

d, 6th Oc

ter 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, which naturally was rooted in the very groundwork of the play; there perhaps to sacrifice a beauty to the limits of the stage, the hu

f 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

ith 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 eve

s indispensable colours in the general picture, he is all action, all visible life. Spiegelberg, Schweitze

n 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 have fixed upon no better act than this, no better time than a few moments prior to the meeting of Ameli

ression, to omit them altogether. But in the printing, I use the freedom humbly to protest against the leaving out of anything. I had satisfactory reasons of my own for all th

he 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 th

my unhappy prodigal: I know it will be masterly. So soon as i

you; hence the double sort of handwriting in it; hence also my forbearing to correct it. My copyist, according to the custom of all reforming calig

, 12th Dec

o 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 Landfried, 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. Doubtl

estly, 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

ny 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 whic

den; 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

ommencement, would have lent it the highest splendour and completeness, could not fail now, when the

ece 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 H

se than this, that Moor must kill his Amelia, and that the action is even a positive beauty, 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

urs (too long for any piece!), a second curtailment of it will be called for. I should not wish that any but myself un

ain 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, witho

ssuring him that I liked his Hausvater uncommonly, and admired in it the traces of a most accomplished man and writer. But what does the author of the Deutsche Hausvater care about the babble of a young apprentice? If I should

ece, I exceedingly approve of; along with this I have enclosed a sketch of o

e of an Advertisement; whi

ROB

P

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, r

s 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 co

, 17th Jan

e 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 o

rd, 24th

nd Robbers 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 ob

rd, 4th

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

or 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 give myself without reserve to you, to put m

romise, I shall forever feel. If your Excellency will adopt the two or three hints I have subj

uld you see what feelings agitate it, could I paint to you in proper colours how my spirit strains against the grievances of my c

soon, to have it in my power to show by personal exertions in your service

e given in a separate enclosure,

ong 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

d, 15th J

tained the two books by 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, f

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 yo

rrespondent. Doering quotes them without name or dat

y 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

wardship, I have long reckoned my minority to be concluded. The best of it is,

da

thdraw 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

rt 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 ready, but, as I also hope, worthy, I take courage from that persuasion, respectfully to ask that your Excellency would be so obliging as advance for me the price t

d. It is yet utterly impossible for me to labour with my

uning picture of my want. Speedy aid is all that I can now think of or wish. Herr Meyer has been requested to communicate your Excel

te 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 intro

y to thee may

oble feelin

iod. 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, er

, 2d Ma

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 m

t drifting to and fro between wind and waves, am forced to envy you that uniformity, that health of s

I at last accomplished this long-projected journey. To speak honestly, I cannot say but

t in social intercourse, a select circle of interesting persons and thinking heads, the respect paid to lite

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.

an time, though Carlos 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

Its very length were enough to banish it. Nor was it out of confidence or self-love that I forced the piece on such a trial; perhaps out of self-interest rather.

so, though this opinion may proceed from my faulty memory as much as from the faultiness of Lobauer's drawing. The en

daughter; there in a few days she has won no little estimation and affection. Do I still hold an

d 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 welcom

ds,' as Doering says, 'we

. PAG

HIP WIT

ontinue. The paper is entitled Happy Incident; 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 s

irection, 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 nati

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

ratus. 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;

ting Nature, not separated and disunited, but active and alive, and expanding from the whole into the parts. On this point he requested expl

and saw all this with much interest and distinct comprehension; but when I had done, he shook his 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

llowing grieved me to the very soul: 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. 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 wit

ympathised with as an afflicted one: when in 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

. PAG

GUSTAVUS

of the Battle of Lützen. The whole forms a picture, executed in the spirit of Salvator; and though this is

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. God with us was the battle-word of the Swedes; that of the Imperialists was Jesus Maria. Ab

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 (gefreiter), observing that every one respectfully made room for the advancing horseman, ordered a musketeer to fire on him. "Aim at him 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 "The King bleeds! The King is shot!" 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 fain

n 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, Sm?land, Fi

at 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 Schwedenstein, 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 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 t

TNO

ment on the Continent, and that one was-Würtemberg. They had a parliamen

re exists now a decidedly compact, intelligent and intelligible Life of Schuba

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 sixtieth 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 Fürst Primas, Prince Primate of the Confederation of the Rhine, being already Archbishop, Elector of Mentz, &c. The good

, I am indebted for very kindly pointing out this error; as well as

ndence with Goethe, Correspondence with Madam von Wolzogen

unknown in this country; though several eminent continental botanists have noticed

NDIX

NDIX

ommon 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,

ty 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 wi

alient 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 Another 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 the

d in the great man's Collected Works, 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 m

l Indication' of these latter; the only words of his whi

ion of the Local

le's House in the County of

ette, The Same

over, Schiller's

in the completest seclusion, he wrote many things, Maria Stuart in particular. After his removal from Jena, and subsequent de

ng der dargestel

ohnung in der Graffschaft Dumf

te, dieselbe

schlags, Wohnung S

chtet; wo er in vollkommenster Einsamkeit manches, besonders Maria Stuart schrieb. Nach seiner Entfernung und e

as C

Schi

m Engl

gel

u

et

t am Mai

n Heinric

chanse

llsc

usl?n

e Lit

rl

samkeit inl?ndischer Literatur gewidmet hatte, nunmehr dieselbe auf die ausl?ndische zu wenden gedenke, konnte ich in meiner damaligen Lage nicht aus

s ich n?mlich meine Freunde mit einem Manne in Berührung bringe, welchen ich unter diejenigen z?hle, die in sp?teren Jahren sich an mich th?tig angeschlossen, mich durch eine mitschreitende Theilnahme zum Handeln und Wirken aufgemuntert, und durch ein edles, reines wohlgerichtetes Bestre

heile werden, wie ich hoffen darf, in einer Reihe von Jahren sich dieses Verm?chtnisses und seines fruchtbaren Erfolges zusammen erfreuen, so dass ich

?nglichkeit u

ar A

8

v. G

ch 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 nachbar

m schon einige Betrachtungen darüber anzustellen, und aus ihr bald m?glichst,

gen; der Verfasser nahm seine Kenntnisse aus Schriften, die uns l?ngst bekannt sind, so wie denn auch ü

ist: unmittelbar zu erfahren, wie ein zartfühlender, strebsamer, einsichtiger Mann über dem Meere, in seinen besten Jahren,

ten, oft harten, fast rohen Productionen unsres verewigten Freundes, immer den edlen, wohldenkenden, woh

n wenn ein munteres Lebensalter einen Wunsch haben darf und soll, so ist es der: in allem Geleisteten das L?bliche, Gute, Bildsa

Mann die Schillerischen Werke, denen wir so mannigfaltige Kultur verdanken, auch als Quelle der

nun, gerade in dem Augenblicke welcher ausw?rts der deutschen Literatur günstig ist, abermals seine kr?ftige Wirk

durch hundertfache Ableitungen, von demjenigen was damals von grosser Bedeutung war, in anderem Zusammenhange schon v?llig unterrichtet worden. Dieses Werk ist vor k

Verh?ltniss traten, war damals in Edinburgh wohnhaft, wo er in der Stille lebend, sich im besten Sinne auszubilde

die Grafschaft Dumfries. Hier, in einer gebirgigen Gegend, in welcher der Fluss Nithe dem nahen Meere zustr?mt, ohnfern der Stadt Dumfries, an einer Stelle welche Craigenputtock genannt wird, sc

ken geneigt sind, erwehren sich kaum des Wunsches, von geehrten, geliebten, weitabgesonderten Personen das P

t in Vaucluse, Tasso's Wohnung in Sorent! Und ist nicht immer die Bieler Insel,

chaffen gesucht, und ich war um so mehr auf die Wohnung Hrn. Thomas Carlyle begierig, als e

igen gefühlvollen Leser, vielleicht noch mehr dem künftigen, einen freundlichen Gefallen zu erweisen und dadurch, so wie durch einges

arlyle a

ck den 25. S

rnt, zwischen den Granitgebirgen und dem schwarzen Moorgefilde, welche sich westw?rts 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 umz?umten und geschmückten Boden, wo Korn reift und B?ume Schatten gew?hren, obgleich ringsumher von Seem?ven und hartwolligen Schaafen umgeben. Hier, mit nicht geringer Anstrengung, haben wir für

ich sehr ergeben bin, ist meine einzige Zerstreuung; denn dieser Winkel ist der einsamste in Brittanien, sechs Meilen von einer jeden P

allein zu dem Zweck meine Lebensweise zu vereinfachen und eine Unabh?ngigkeit zu erwerben, damit ich mir selbst treu bleiben k?nne. Dieser Erdr

eimar ansehen. Habe ich denn nicht auch gegenw?rtig eine ganze Ladung von franz?sischen, deutschen, amerikanischen, englisch

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 unge

vielen Jahren die Verdienste würdiger schottischer M?nner zu sch?tzen. Uns blieb nicht unbekannt, was sie frühe

osen ausübte, um sie von dem starren Sensualism zu einer geschmeidigern Denkart auf dem Wege des gemeinen Menschenverstandes h

blieb, ob Mangel an Einsicht oder b?ser Wille dabey obwaltete; ob eine oberfl?chliche, nicht genug durchdringende Ansicht, oder ein widerwilliges Vorurtheil im

che zu erwiedern wir uns verpflichtet fühlen und worauf wir in gegenw?rtigen Bl?ttern unsr

m Meister übersetzt und gab sodann vorlieg

M?hrchen deutscher Schriftsteller als: Mus?us, La Motte Fouqué, Tieck, Hoffmann, Je

stellers geben ein Zeugniss von der einfach wohlwollenden Weise, wie der Freund sich m?glichst von der Pers?nlichkeit und den Zust?nde

nun, ausser den schon genannten deutschen Autoren, auch Ernst Schulz, Klingemann, Franz Horn, Zacharias Werner, Graf

um Text und Gelegenheit nehmen, um über das eigentliche Feld und Fach, so wie alsdann über das

Freunde der Wissenschaften aufmerksam zu beachten; denn es ist h?chst merkwürdig, wie der gründlichste Ernst mit der fre

, welche für einen besondern Charakterzug der Deutschen gelten k?nnen, so haben wir uns gleichfalls nach dem umzusehen, was ihnen dort von diese

geh?rt, und doch war er einer der entschiedensten Genies; aber in der tiefsten Classe der Landleute geboren und durch die Verwicklungen sonderbarer

betroffen, er sey wenig Monate vor Schiller, in dem Jahr 1759 geboren und keiner dieser beiden habe jemals des andern Namen vernommen.

rsuche unsrer Sprache es anzueignen. Hans Gerstenkorn, ein wackerer Mann, hat viele Feinde, die ihn unabl?ssig verfolgen und besch?digen, ja zuletzt gar zu vernichten drohen. Aus allen diesen Unbilden geht er

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 reins

literarischen Bewegungen in Deutschland unkundig, nicht zu sagen; auf alle F?lle jedoch gedenke ich die Freunde ausw?rtiger Literatur auf die kürz

n Wunsch, das Ganze und den genannten Mann auf j

ie Begriffe, wie sie in eines armen Mannes Hütte wohnen, und allenfalls die Reime von Ferguson und Ramsay, als das Muster der Sch?nheit aufgesteckt. Aber unter diesen Lasten versinkt er nicht; durch Nebel und Finsterniss einer so düstern Region entdeckt sein Adlerauge die richtigen Verh?ltnisse der Welt und des Menschenlebens, er w?chst an geist

ichste Gabe, die einem Zeitalter mag verliehen werden. Wir sehen in ihm eine freyere, reinere Entwicklung alles dessen was in uns das Edelste

er Andern lasteten zu schwer auf ihm, und dieser Geist, der sich erhoben hatte, w?re es ihm nur zu wandern geglückt, sank in den Staub; seine herrlichen F?higkeiten 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 sp?te Tausendsch?nchen f?llt nicht unbemerkt unter seine Pflugschar, so wenig als das wohlv

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 Gef?hrte, aber auch Liebe und Muth zugleich; die einfachen Gefühle, der Werth, der Edelsinn, welche un

rsten Noth vergisst er nicht für einen Augenblick die Majest?t der Poesie und Mannheit. Und doch, so hoch er sich über gew?hnlichen Menschen fühlt, sondert er sich nicht von ihnen ab, mit W?rme 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 Zust?nden dieses stolze Wesen in der Freundschaft Hülfe sucht, und oft seinen Busen dem Unwürdigen aufschliesst; oft unter Thr?nen an sein glühendes Herz ein Herz andrückt, das Freundschaft nur als Namen kennt. Doch war er scharf und schnellsichtig, ein Mann vom durchdringendsten Blick, vor welchem gemeine Verstellung sich nicht b

uf gleiche Weise ihren Burns bey uns einführten. Ein junges Mitglied der hochachtbaren Gesellschaft, der wir gegenw?rtiges im Ganzen empfohlen haben, wird Zeit und Mühe h?chlich belohnt sehen, wenn er diesen freundlichen Gegendienst ein

avb?ndchen zur Hand: Catalogue of German Publications, selected and

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 Verw

so wohl anstehenden Bescheidenheit zurücksieht, hiedurch einleite und gegenw?rtig an den Tag f?rdere, so erlaube er mir eini

arlyle a

Decemb

isen Ihres Landes ihre Weisheit predigen. Ich habe kürzlich geh?rt, dass sogar in Oxford und Cambridge, unsern beiden englischen Universit?ten, die bis jetzt als die Haltpuncte der insularischen eigenthümlichen Beharrlichkeit sind betrachtet worden, es sich in solchen Dingen zu regen anf?ngt. Ihr Niebuhr hat in Cambridge einen geschickten Uebersetzer gefunden und in Oxford haben zwei bis drei Deutsche schon hinl?ngliche Bes

erde sich durch n?here Kentniss der verschiedenen Sprachen und Denkweisen, nach und nach erzeugen; so wage ich von einem be

gerade in dem besten Einverst?ndnisse leben, sondern dass vielmehr ein Nachbar an dem a

verbreitet, zugleich auch eine stille Gemeinschaft von Philogermanen sich bilden werde, welche in der Neigung zu ein

lers

r Abs

gend (17

ch Schiller. Ausgezeichnet durch gl?nzenden Geist, erhabenes Gefühl und edlen Geschmack liess er den sch?nsten Abdruck d

d Scenen der Sch?nheit, die er dem leeren formlosen unendlichen Raum abgenommen; zum

auch schon an sich ist, noch ungleich

Y AND

MM

RT

LER'S

9-17

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. (17.)-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. (28.)-Earnest literary efforts. Publishes two tragedies, Fiesco and Kabale und Liebe. His mental gro

RT

ETTLEMENT

ETTLEMEN

4-17

ribute of regard. Letter to Huber: Domestic tastes. Removes to Leipzig. Letter to his friend Schwann: A marriage proposal. Fluctuations of life. (63.)-Goes to Dresden. Don Carlos: Evidences of a matured mind: Analysis of the Characters: Scene of the King and Posa. Alfieri and Schiller contrasted. (73.)-Popularity: Crowned with laurels, but without a home. Forsakes the Drama. Lyrical productions: Freigeisterei der Leidenschaft. The Geisterseher, a Novel.

T I

LEMENT AT JEN

0-18

he. A pleasant visit to his parents. Mode of life at Jena: Night-studies, and bodily stimulants. (143.)-Wallenstein: 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. (152.)-Removes to Weimar: Generosity of the Duke. Tragedy of Maria Stuart. (178.)-The Maid of Orleans: Character of Jeanne d'Arc: Scenes, Joanna and her Suitors; Death of Talbot; Joanna and Lionel. Enthusiastic reception of the play. (181.)-Daily and nightly habits at Weimar.

MENT O

er's Household. Really interesting and instructive. Tran

ER'S F

ie Solitüde. Fritz remains at the Ludwigsburg Latin School: Continual exhortations and corrections from Father and Teacher. Youthful heresy. First acquaintance with a Theatre. (255.)-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. (258.)-Leaves the School, and becomes Regimental-Doctor at Stuttgard. His Father's pride in him. Extravagance and debt. His personal appearance. (260.)-Publication of the Robbers. 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. (263.)-Disappointments and straits at Mannheim. Help from his good friend Streicher. He sells Fiesco, 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. (268.)-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

MO

y become a Preacher. His confirmation. Her disappointment that it was not to be. (p. 300.)-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

SIST

nd noble heart. For twenty-nine years they lived contentedly together. Through life she was helpful to all about her; never hindersome to any. (p. 324.)-Poor Nanette's brief history. Her excitement, when a child, on witnessing the performance of her Brother's Kabale und Liebe. Her ardent

END

DANIEL

ganist to the Duke of Würtemberg. Headlong business, amusement and dissipation. His poor Wife returns to her Father: Ruin and banishment. A vagabond life. (343.)-Settles at Augsburg, and sets up a Newspaper: Again a prosperous man: Enmity of the Jesuits. Seeks refuge in Ul

RS OF SCHILL

he Robbers to the stage. (p. 354.)-Struggles to get free from Stuttgard and his Du

ENDSHIP WI

ims: Great Nature not a phantasm of her children's brains.

H OF GUSTAV

tyle. A higher than des

NDIX

te thereon. (p. 380.)-Goethe's introduct

riber'

he drama parts has been reproduced. Please hover your mouse over the words with