lay of the historical
event, and far more than compensated by the deeper interest and the
wider range of action and delineation, which a strict adherence to the
facts allows. By the present mode of management, Alpine life in all
its length and breadth is placed before us: from the feudal halls of
Attinghausen to Ruodi the Fisher of the Luzern Lake, and Armgart,--

The poor wild-hay-man of the Rigiberg,
Whose trade is, on the brow of the abyss,
To mow the common grass from craggy shelves
And nooks to which the cattle dare not climb,--

we stand as if in presence of the Swiss, beholding the achievement of
their freedom in its minutest circumstances, with all its simplicity
and unaffected greatness. The light of the poet's genius is upon the
Four Forest Cantons, at the opening of the Fourteenth Century: the
whole time and scene shine as with the brightness, the truth, and more
than the beauty, of reality.

The tragedy of _Tell_ wants unity of interest and of action; but in
spite of this, it may justly claim the high dignity of ranking with
the very best of Schiller's plays. Less comprehensive and ambitious
than _Wallenstein_, less ethereal than the _Jungfrau_, it has a look
of nature and substantial truth, which neither of its rivals can boast
of. The feelings it inculcates and appeals to are those of universal
human nature, and presented in their purest, most unpretending form.
There is no high-wrought sentiment, no poetic love. Tell loves his
wife as honest men love their wives; and the episode of Bertha and
Rudenz, though beautiful, is very brief, and without effect on the
general result. It is delightful and salutary to the heart to wander
among the scenes of _Tell_: all is lovely, yet all is real. Physical
and moral grandeur are united; yet both are the unadorned grandeur of
Nature. There are the lakes and green valleys beside us, the
Schreckhorn, the Jungfrau, and their sister peaks, with their
avalanches and their palaces of ice, all glowing in the southern sun;
and dwelling among them are a race of manly husbandmen, heroic without
ceasing to be homely, poetical without ceasing to be genuine.

We have dwelt the longer on this play, not only on account of its
peculiar fascinations, but also--as it is our last! Schiller's
faculties had never been more brilliant than at present: strong in
mature age, in rare and varied accomplishments, he was now reaping the
full fruit of his studious vigils; the