indeed, the latter, as has latterly been questioned, embodied his oral promises in a definite proposition. Three months before his journey to Berlin, Schiller had finished the last drama which he completed, viz., "Wilhelm Tell." In all probability it was Goethe's journey to Switzerland, and his conversation concerning the poetic possibilities of the Tell legend, which aroused Schiller's interest in the Swiss traditions, and prompted him to peruse Tschudi's Swiss Chronicle. It is well known that Goethe himself contemplated writing an epic with Tell for its hero, but that he subsequently abandoned the plan, and recommended the subject to his friend. Although somewhat loosely put together, and without any well-defined focus of interest, "Wilhelm Tell" has always been the popular favorite among Schiller's dramas, and possesses a charm which seems never to fail or grow old. It may be a weakness of construction that Tell's role, as the deliverer of his country, is, in a manner, accidental; since, according to his own testimony, he kills Gessler in self-defence, and in order to protect his wife and children from the tyrant's vengeance. It may also be contrary to dramatic canons to have two parallel intrigues without any vital interdependence, but in spite of all such objections the fact remains that the drama has always been greeted with a warm and spontaneous enthusiasm wherever it has been worthily represented. The fragrance of the Alpine meadows, and the breath of the glaciers blow into our faces from the very opening scene, and a long, clear vista is revealed into the very heart of the beautiful Switzerland. In the presence of such vivid impressions the critic's dissenting voice is left unheeded. It is drowned in the rush and roar of the ice-fed rivers, and in the resounding echoes of the ranz-des-vaches. As Schiller's hold upon existence grew feebler, his interest in his work grew more intense. He labored incessantly, even while tortured by physical sufferings. During the winter of 1804-5, he had several severe attacks of illness which shattered his weak frame. And yet the thought of his next drama, "Demetrius," never left him. Whenever he had a little respite from suffering he immediately resumed his work upon this "child of sorrows." Even after consciousness had left him he raved in his delirium about the Russian pretender, and declaimed scene after scene with excited looks and gestures. Next to his wife and children there was nothing in the world which it grieved him more to abandon than this unfinished master-piece; but perhaps not even this exception ought to be made. May 9, 1805, he expired. His last conscious act was to kiss his wife, and his last words were: "Happy, ever happier." The significance of his life and work to his country it is difficult to over-estimate. By his fearless protest against tyranny and his worship of liberty he first wakened the noble rebellion which in time will accomplish the enfranchisement of the fatherland from spiritual and political despotism. In the sober idealism of his maturer years he sought a con solation, in the world of thought, for what reality could not yield him; and thus the German finds, at each stage of his development, the fuller utterance in Schiller's life and work for his own unformulated thought and sentiment. Nevertheless, the key-note of his song, which he first struck in his youthful rebellion against tyranny, has resounded with stronger vibrations than his more philosophic strains; and he returned to it once more in his last completed drama. Therefore the Germans are not wrong in loving and revering him as "the poet of liberty." |