uctuation between sloth and consuming
toil, that infirmity of resolution, with all its tormenting and
enfeebling consequences, to which a literary man, working as he does
at a solitary task, uncalled for by any pressing tangible demand, and
to be recompensed by distant and dubious advantage, is especially
exposed. Unity of aim, aided by ordinary vigour of character, will
generally insure perseverance; a quality not ranked among the cardinal
virtues, but as essential as any of them to the proper conduct of
life. Nine-tenths of the miseries and vices of mankind proceed from
idleness: with men of quick minds, to whom it is especially
pernicious, this habit is commonly the fruit of many disappointments
and schemes oft baffled; and men fail in their schemes not so much
from the want of strength as from the ill-direction of it. The weakest
living creature, by concentrating his powers on a single object, can
accomplish something: the strongest, by dispersing his over many, may
fail to accomplish anything. The drop, by continual falling, bores its
passage through the hardest rock; the hasty torrent rushes over it
with hideous uproar, and leaves no trace behind. Few men have applied
more steadfastly to the business of their life, or been more
resolutely diligent than Schiller.

The profession of theatrical poet was, in his present circumstances,
particularly favourable to the maintenance of this wholesome state of
mind. In the fulfilment of its duties, while he gratified his own
dearest predilections, he was likewise warmly seconded by the
prevailing taste of the public. The interest excited by the stage, and
the importance attached to everything connected with it, are greater
in Germany than in any other part of Europe, not excepting France, or
even Paris. Nor, as in Paris, is the stage in German towns considered
merely as a mental recreation, an elegant and pleasant mode of filling
up the vacancy of tedious evenings: in Germany, it has the advantage
of being comparatively new; and its exhibitions are directed to a
class of minds attuned to a far higher pitch of feeling. The Germans
are accused of a proneness to amplify and systematise, to admire with
excess, and to find, in whatever calls forth their applause, an
epitome of a thousand excellencies, which no one else can discover in
it. Their discussions on the theatre do certainly give colour to this
charge. Nothing, at least to an English reader, can appear more
disproportio