Of these poems, the most noted written about this time, the
_Freethinking of Passion_ (_Freigeisterei der Leidenschaft_), is said
to have originated in a real attachment. The lady, whom some
biographers of Schiller introduce to us by the mysterious designation
of the 'Fraeulein A * * *, one of the first beauties in Dresden,' seems
to have made a deep impression on the heart of the poet. They tell us
that she sat for the picture of the princess Eboli, in his _Don
Carlos_; that he paid his court to her with the most impassioned
fervour, and the extreme of generosity. They add one or two anecdotes
of dubious authenticity; which, as they illustrate nothing, but show
us only that love could make Schiller crazy, as it is said to make all
gods and men, we shall use the freedom to omit.

This enchanting and not inexorable spinster perhaps displaced the
Mannheim _Laura_ from her throne; but the gallant assiduities, which
she required or allowed, seem not to have abated the zeal of her
admirer in his more profitable undertakings. Her reign, we suppose,
was brief and without abiding influence. Schiller never wrote or
thought with greater diligence than while at Dresden. Partially
occupied with conducting his _Thalia_, or with those more slight
poetical performances, his mind was hovering among a multitude of
weightier plans, and seizing with avidity any hint that might assist
in directing its attempts. To this state of feeling we are probably
indebted for the _Geisterseher_, a novel, naturalised in our
circulating libraries by the title of the _Ghostseer_, two volumes of
which were published about this time. The king of quacks, the renowned
Cagliostro, was now playing his dextrous game at Paris; harrowing-up
the souls of the curious and gullible of all ranks in that capital,
by various thaumaturgic feats; raising the dead from their graves;
and, what was more to the purpose, raising himself from the station of
a poor Sicilian lacquey to that of a sumptuous and extravagant count.
The noise of his exploits appears to have given rise to this work of
Schiller's. It is an attempt to exemplify the process of hoodwinking
an acute but too sensitive man; of working on the latent germ of
superstition, which exists beneath his outward scepticism; harassing
his mind by the terrors of magic,--the magic of chemistry and natural
philosophy and natural cunning; till, racked by doubts and agonising
fears, and plunging from one depth of dark un