ere was of the good, the noble, and
the beautiful in human nature; he had never been deceived in his friends.
And such was his sympathy with the world at large that he could not bear
to see in any rank of life the image of man, created in the likeness of
God, distorted by cunning, pride, and selfishness. His whole poetry may be
said to be written on the simple text, "Be true, be good, be noble!" It
may seem a short text, but truth is very short, and the work of the
greatest teachers of mankind has always consisted in the unflinching
inculcation of these short truths. There is in Schiller's works a kernel
full of immortal growth, which will endure long after the brilliant colors
of his poetry have faded away. That kernel is the man, and without it
Schiller's poetry, like all other poetry, is but the song of sirens.
Schiller's character has been subjected to that painful scrutiny to which,
in modern times, the characters of great men are subjected; everything he
ever did, or said, or thought, has been published; and yet it would be
difficult, in the whole course of his life, to point out one act, one
word, one thought, that could be called mean, untrue, or selfish. From the
beginning to the end Schiller remained true to himself; he never acted a
part, he never bargained with the world. We may differ from him on many
points of politics, ethics, and religion; but though we differ, we must
always respect and admire. His life is the best commentary on his poetry;
there is never a discrepancy between the two. As mere critics, we may be
able to admire a poet without admiring the man; but poetry, it should be
remembered, was not meant for critics only, and its highest purpose is
never fulfilled, except where, as with Schiller, we can listen to the poet
and look up to the man.

1859.

V. WILHELM MUeLLER.(13) 1794-1827.

Seldom has a poet in a short life of thirty years engraven his name so
deeply on the memorial tablets of the history of German poetry as Wilhelm
Mueller. Although the youthful efforts of a poet may be appreciated by
those few who are able to admire what is good and beautiful, even though
it has never before been admired by others, yet in order permanently to
win the ear and heart of his people, a poet must live with the people, and
take part in the movements and struggles of his age. Thus only can he hope
to stir and mould the thoughts of his contemporaries, and to remain a
permanent living power in th