e state of Schiller's
thoughts at this period, it possesses a peculiar interest. In other
respects there is little in it to allure us. It is short and
incomplete; there is little originality in the opinions it expresses,
and none in the form of its composition. As an argument on either
side, it is too rhetorical to be of much weight; it abandons the
inquiry when its difficulties and its value are becoming greatest, and
breaks off abruptly without arriving at any conclusion. Schiller has
surveyed the dark Serbonian bog of Infidelity: but he has, made no
causeway through it: the _Philosophic Letters_ are a fragment.

Amid employments so varied, with health, and freedom from the coarser
hardships of life, Schiller's feelings might be earnest, but could
scarcely be unhappy. His mild and amiable manners, united to such
goodness of heart, and such height of accomplishment, endeared him to
all classes of society in Mannheim; Dalberg was still his warm friend;
Schwann and Laura he conversed with daily. His genius was fast
enlarging its empire, and fast acquiring more complete command of it;
he was loved and admired, rich in the enjoyment of present activity
and fame, and richer in the hope of what was coming. Yet in proportion
as his faculties and his prospects expanded, he began to view his
actual situation with less and less contentment. For a season after
his arrival, it was natural that Mannheim should appear to him as land
does to the shipwrecked mariner, full of gladness and beauty, merely
because it is land. It was equally natural that, after a time, this
sentiment should abate and pass away; that his place of refuge should
appear but as other places, only with its difficulties and discomforts
aggravated by their nearness. His revenue was inconsiderable here, and
dependent upon accidents for its continuance; a share in directing the
concerns of a provincial theatre, a task not without its irritations,
was little adequate to satisfy the wishes of a mind like his. Schiller
longed for a wider sphere of action; the world was all before him; he
lamented that he should still be lingering on the mere outskirts of
its business; that he should waste so much time and effort in
contending with the irascible vanity of players, or watching the ebbs
and flows of public taste; in resisting small grievances, and
realising a small result. He determined upon leaving Mannheim. If
destitute of other holds, his prudence might still have taug