ngly, were numerous, varied, and sometimes of considerable
extent. In the end of 1792, a new object seemed to call for his
attention; he once about this time seriously meditated mingling in
politics. The French Revolution had from the first affected him with
no ordinary hopes; which, however, the course of events, particularly
the imprisonment of Louis, were now fast converting into fears. For
the ill-fated monarch, and the cause of freedom, which seemed
threatened with disgrace in the treatment he was likely to receive,
Schiller felt so deeply interested, that he had determined, in his
case a determination not without its risks, to address an appeal on
these subjects to the French people and the world at large. The voice
of reason advocating liberty as well as order might still, he
conceived, make a salutary impression in this period of terror and
delusion; the voice of a distinguished man would at first sound like
the voice of the nation, which he seemed to represent. Schiller was
inquiring for a proper French translator, and revolving in his mind
the various arguments that might be used, and the comparative
propriety of using or forbearing to use them; but the progress of
things superseded the necessity of such deliberation. In a few months,
Louis perished on the scaffold; the Bourbon family were murdered, or
scattered over Europe; and the French government was changed into a
frightful chaos, amid the tumultuous and bloody horrors of which, calm
truth had no longer a chance to be heard. Schiller turned away from
these repulsive and appalling scenes, into other regions where his
heart was more familiar, and his powers more likely to produce effect.
The French Revolution had distressed and shocked him; but it did not
lessen his attachment to liberty, the name of which had been so
desecrated in its wild convulsions. Perhaps in his subsequent writings
we can trace a more respectful feeling towards old establishments;
more reverence for the majesty of Custom; and with an equal zeal, a
weaker faith in human perfectibility: changes indeed which are the
common fruit of years themselves, in whatever age or climate of the
world our experience may be gathered.

Among the number of fluctuating engagements, one, which for ten years
had been constant with him, was the editing of the _Thalia_. The
principles and performances of that work he had long looked upon as
insufficient: in particular, ever since his settlement at Jena, it h