,
expressing its feelings in forms which react upon itself. The
strength of her impulses persuades her that she is called from on high
to deliver her native France; the intensity of her own faith persuades
others; she goes forth on her mission; all bends to the fiery
vehemence of her will; she is inspired because she thinks herself so.
There is something beautiful and moving in the aspect of a noble
enthusiasm, fostered in the secret soul, amid obstructions and
depressions, and at length bursting forth with an overwhelming force
to accomplish its appointed end: the impediments which long hid it are
now become testimonies of its power; the very ignorance, and meanness,
and error, which still in part adhere to it, increase our sympathy
without diminishing our admiration; it seems the triumph, hardly
contested, and not wholly carried, but still the triumph, of Mind over
Fate, of human volition over material necessity.

All this Schiller felt, and has presented with even more than his
usual skill. The secret mechanism of Joanna's mind is concealed from
us in a dim religious obscurity; but its active movements are
distinct; we behold the lofty heroism of her feelings; she affects us
to the very heart. The quiet, devout innocence of her early years,
when she lived silent, shrouded in herself, meek and kindly though not
communing with others, makes us love her: the celestial splendour
which illuminates her after-life adds reverence to our love. Her words
and actions combine an overpowering force with a calm unpretending
dignity: we seem to understand how they must have carried in their
favour the universal conviction. Joanna is the most noble being in
tragedy. We figure her with her slender lovely form, her mild but
spirit-speaking countenance; 'beautiful and terrible;' bearing the
banner of the Virgin before the hosts of her country; travelling in
the strength of a rapt soul; irresistible by faith; 'the lowly
herdsmaid,' greater in the grandeur of her simple spirit than the
kings and queens of this world. Yet her breast is not entirely
insensible to human feeling, nor her faith never liable to waver. When
that inexorable vengeance, which had shut her ear against the voice of
mercy to the enemies of France, is suspended at the sight of Lionel,
and her heart experiences the first touch of mortal affection, a
baleful cloud overspreads the serene of her mind; it seems as if
Heaven had forsaken her, or from the beginning permitte