sity; his weightiest
duties were discharged by proxy; and his historical studies were
forsaken. His mind was being attracted by the philosophy of Kant. This
transcendental system had filled Germany with violent contentions;
Herder and Wieland were opposing it vehemently; Goethe alone retained
his wonted composure, willing to allow this theory to "have its day, as
all things have." How far Schiller penetrated its arena we cannot say,
but he wrote several essays, imbued in its spirit, upon aesthetic
subjects; notably, "Grace and Dignity," "Naive and Sentimental Poetry,"
and "Letters on the Aesthetic Culture of Man."

The project of an epic poem brought Schiller back to his art; he first
thought of Gustavus Adolphus, then of Frederick the Great of Prussia,
for his hero, and intended to adopt the _ottave rime_, and in general
construction to follow the model of the "Iliad." He did not even begin
to execute this work, but devoted himself instead to the tragedy of
"Wallenstein," which occupied him for several years. Among other
engagements were, the editing of the "Thalia," which was relinquished at
the end of 1793; a new periodical, the "Horen," which began early in
1794; and another, the "Musen-Almanach," in which the collection of
epigrams known as the "Xenien" appeared. In these new publications
Schiller was supported by the co-operation of Goethe.

"Wallenstein." by far the best work he had yet produced, was given to
the world in 1799. Wallenstein is the model of a high-souled, great,
accomplished man, whose ruling passion is ambition. A shade of horror,
of fateful dreariness, hangs over the hero's death, and except in
Macbeth or Othello we know not where to match it. This tragedy is the
greatest work of its century.

Schiller now spent his winters in Weimar, and at last lived there
constantly, often staying for months with Goethe. The tragedy of "Maria
Stuart," which appeared in 1800, is a beautiful work, but compared with
"Wallenstein" its purpose is narrow and its result common. It has no
true historical delineation. The "Maid of Orleans," 1801, a tragedy on
the subject of Jeanne d'Arc, will remain one of the very finest of
modern dramas, and its reception was beyond example flattering. It was
followed, in 1803, by the "Bride of Messina," a tragedy which fails to
attain its object; there is too little action in the play and the
interest flags. But "Wilhelm Tell," 1804, exhibits some of the highest
triumphs which Sc