46 
tranquillity,.was more: agreeable to him 
than noify d-firacting day. However iin- 
gular it may appear, it is not the ls{s true, 
that ia the evening he might be found at 
his breakfaft, and at midnight deeply en- 
gaged in,bufinels. The ftamp of midnight 
ts in fact fickingly impreffed on many of 
his compoiitions. By this conduct he, 
alas | abridged his cheerfulnefs, his plea- 
fures, and even his life. 
It was impoflible not to perceive. what 
the Academy poffeffed in Schiller. Inthe 
year 1796 he received a regular honorary 
profeffo: fhip, witha falary of two hundred 
dollars, which after he left Jena was.con- 
tinved to be paid by the Duke of Weimar, 
and was augmented a fhort time previous 
to his death. Meanwhile Géthe, who 
had become the friand of Schiller, endea- 
voured to reftore him to hie and its enjoy- 
ments. Jena, he perceived, was not the 
place for this purpefe ; it was neceflary to 
remove him to a region of greater tree- 
dom, and he invited him to Weimar.— 
This removal had the defired effet. He 
appeared te be again attached to life by 
more plealing tes, and was completely 
happy in his domeftic circle, among. his 
children, 
This cheerful tone pervades all the 
works he compofed in the latter years of 
his life at Weimar: they are not the off- 
fpring of fombre midnight, but tbe. pro- 
ductions of genial day. Among thefe 
was his “* Maid of Oileans,” of the firtt 
seprefentation of which at Leipzig tke fol- 
lowing account is given by an eye-witnefs 
and a friend of Schiller :—‘* I repaired 
(fays he) from Lauchfiadt to Leipzig, 
and fhou!d not have repented the journey, 
had I only witnefled the refpeét_ paid to 
Sehiller, ina manner perhaps unparalicled 
in the annals of the German fage. Not- 
-withftanding the heat, the houfe was 
erowded almoft to fuffocation. No fooner 
had the curtain dropped at the conclufion 
of the firt acti, than a thoufand voices ex- 
claimed, as with one mouth, ‘* Long live 
Frederic Schiller!’ and the found’ of 
drums and of trumpets joired in this ex- 
preffion of univer‘al applaufe. The mo- 
deft author returned thanks from his box 
with a.bow, but all the fpeéta:ors had not 
been able to cbtain a fight of the object of 
their admiration. You may therefore 
conceive how, when the play was over, 
all thronged out of the houfe to fee him. 
The extcnlive {pace from the theatre to 
the Ranfiadt gate was crowded with 
cople. He came out, and ina momenta 
péfisge was cleared. ‘¢ Hots off 1!" ex 
ciaimed a voice i the requilition was uni- 
Memoirs of Schiller, the German Dramatift, 
[Feb. 1, 
verfally complied with; and thus the poet 
proceeded through multitudes of admur- 
ing {pectators, who all ftood uncovered 
while parents in the back ground railed 
their children in their arms, and cried—= 
‘Fhat is Schiller !” 
He had, as he himfelf acknowledged, 
two methods which he invariably follow- 
ed in compofition. When he had chofea 
a fubjeét, he completed ail the detail m his 
mind before he committed a fingle line te 
paper. A work which he had thus 
brought to maturity in his mind, was 
finifhed, and hence may have often arifen 
the reports that Schiller had finifhed this 
orthe other. Such was the cafe, toward 
the conclufion of his life, with his Atttla, 
of which he declared that he had five 
fcenes ready. This may have been true, 
even though not.a Hine of it were eommit- 
ted to writing. 
Thofe compofitions which Schiller had 
committed to paper, efpeeially metrical 
performances, he ufed to read aloud by 
himfelf ; and it frequently happened that 
he paffed unawares from reading to de- 
claiming, a proof that he made his ears. 
and not metre, a jodge of rhythm and 
harmony. Woe to the poet who adopts a 
different condu&!. Unthackled Nature 
will rot fail to avepge herfelf on the fait 
offspring of pedanticrules. ...5 
Schiller was tall, and rather flender.— 
Even during his refidence at Jena his body 
feemed to fuffer from the exertions of his 
sind : his face was pale, and his cheeks 
hollow ; but filent enthufiafm fparkled im 
« 
his animated eye, and his high open fore- _ 
head announced the chara&er of profound 
reficGion. His whole demeanour was 
calculated to excite confidence. There 
was nothing in it of referve, nothing of 
pride, haugitinefs, or affectation 5 every 
expreflion was marked with fuch cancour 
and fincerity, and unfolded fuch excellent 
qualities of the heart, that before you had 
pafied a quarter of an hour in his company, 
you felt as if you had been acquainted 
with him for years. In a word, go him 
may juftly be applied the charaéter he has 
afcribed to true genius. ‘* The child- 
like charaéter (fays he) which genius 
ftamps upon all ics works, it likewife ma- 
ni‘efts in private life, and in its manners. 
It is modeit, becavfe Natare is always.fo ; 
but it is net decorous, becavfe decorum 
only attends corruption ; it isrational, for 
Nature can never be the contrary 5 but it 
is not crafty, for craft belongs only to art. 
Tt is true to ns character and its propen= 
fities, not fo much from principle, for Na= 
ture, notwitatanding all digreflions, ins 
~ variably 
