1822. 
at this moment ¢o the attitudes of the 
acting man, and openly proclaims that 
our souls have passed into the condition 
of his. If thou hast ever been present, 
Raflaelle, when a great event was re- 
fated to a numerous assembly, hast 
thou not seen in the narrator how he 
himself expected the incense, how he 
himself absorbed the approbation, 
which was to he offered to his here. 
And if thou wert the narrator, wouldst 
thou net be able to catch thy heart in 
this pleasing ilusien ? 
Instances must occur, to you, how 
warmly J can compete with tke very 
friend of my bosom for the luxury of 
reading aloud a fine anecdote, or an 
excellent poem; and my heart secretly 
owns to me, that itcan grudge even to 
you ithe taurel, which in such cases 
passes over from the author to the 
reader. A quick and intimate relish 
fer the beauty of virttie, is universally 
tinderstoed to indicate a talent for vir- 
tue. On the other hand, no one hesi- 
tates to mistrust the hearé of a man, 
whose head slowly and reluctantly 
compreherds moral heauty. 
- Do not object te me, that on the 
lively recognition of any perfection, 
will often arise in the mind an idea of 
the antithetic or precisely opposite im- 
perfection. Even the criminal is eften 
assailed by virtuews propensities; and 
the coward may feel enthusiasm for 
Herculean greatness. I know for in- 
stance, that our admired Haller, who 
has so spiritedly unmasked the nothing- 
ness of formal titles, and te whese phi- 
losophic greatness I pay a willing tri- 
bute of admiration, was not able to de- 
spise a star of knighthood. I am con- 
vinced that, in the happy moment of 
conception, the artist, the philosopher, 
and the poet, are really the great and 
ood men whose image they pourtray. 
ut this ennoblement of soul is in 
many an unnatural state, violently 
produced by a quicker movement of 
the blood, and a warmer glow of the 
fancy, aud which as quickly faints and 
cools as any other sort of intoxication, 
leaving the wearied heart only an easier 
captive to low passions. An easier, I 
say, for experience teaches that the 
relapsed criminal is always the more 
desperate one; and the renegades of 
virtue seek to be rid of the burdensome 
eonstraint of remorse, by flinging them- 
selves more frequently into the sweet 
arms of vice. 
I wanted to prove, my Raffaelle, that 
it is our own condifion when we feel 
The German Student, 
No. XXilI—Schiller. 27 
anothers; that any perfection becomes 
ours during the moment that we awaken 
the idea of it, and that our delight in 
truth, beauty, and virtue, is wholly 
referable to the consciousness of our 
personalamelioration and ennoblement. 
And this, I think I have proved. 
We have ideas of the wisdom of the 
supreme being, of his goodness, of his 
justice, but none of his omnipotence. 
To denote his power, we assist our- 
selves with the partial 1epresentation 
of three successions— nothing, his will, 
and something. It is dark and void ; 
God exclaims: Light; and light is. 
Had we a real idea ef his effective on- 
nipotence, we should be creators like 
him. 
Every perfection, therefore, which I 
perceive, becomes my own, and gives 
me pleasure because it is my owa: I 
covet it, because I love myself. Per- 
fection in nature is no property of 
matter, but of minds. All minds are 
happy through their perfection. I de- 
sire the happiness of all minds, because 
1 love myself. The happiness which 
[ represent to inyself becomes my hap- 
piness; therefore 1 desire to awaken, 
to multiply, to exalt such representa- 
tions; therefore I desire to spread 
happiness around me. Whatever beau- 
ty, whatever perfection, whatever en- 
joyment I produce without me, I also 
produce within me. Whatever T neg- 
lect or destroy, to myself alse I neglect 
and destroy. I desire the happiness of 
others, because I desire my own: and 
this desire of the happiness of others is 
termed benevolence. 
Now, my valued Raffaelle, let us 
look around. The hill is climbed, the 
mist is dissipated, and, as before a 
blooming landscape, I stand amidst in- 
finitude. A purer sunshine has cleared 
up all my ideas. 
Love, then—the fairest phenomenon 
of the animated creation, the almighty 
magnetism of the spiritual world, the 
source of devotion, and of the sub- 
limest virtue—love is but the reflection 
of this single force, an attraction of the 
excellent, based on a momentary change 
of personality, a transmigration of 
being. 
When T hate, I take something away 
from myself; when I love, I become 
richer by what I love. Forgiveness is 
the recovery of a lost property. Mi- 
santhropy is a perpetual suicide. Egot- 
isin is the highest poverty of a created 
being. 
Schiller then proceeds fo carry on 
his 
