At Jena his friends had been witness to the perseverance and resolute determination with which he occupied himself with “Wallenstein.” This subject, which kept expanding at the hands of his genius, was worked out, knit together, revised, in numerous ways, until he saw at last that it would be necessary to divide the piece into three parts, as was thereupon done. And afterwards he did not cease to make alterations, in order that the principal scenes might acquire all the effect that was possible. The result was, however, that the _Death of Wallenstein_ was given oftener on all stages than the _Camp_ and the _Piccolomini_. _Don Carlos_ had been condensed still earlier for the stage; and whoever will compare this play, as it is produced, with the earlier printed edition, will recognize the same laborious changes. For though Schiller in sketching out the plan of his work felt bound by no limitations, in a later revision for theatrical purposes he had the courage, as a result of his convictions, to adapt it stringently, yes even mercilessly, to the practical exigencies of the situation. These meant a definite limitation of time; all the principal scenes had to pass before the eyes of the audience in a certain period of time. All the other scenes he omitted, and yet he could never really confine himself to the space of three hours. _The Robbers_, _Intrigue and Love_, _Fiesco_, productions of an aggressive youthful impatience and indignation at a severe and confining training, had to undergo many alterations for the stage-production which was eagerly demanded by the public and especially the young men. About them all he would speculate whether it was not possible to assimilate them to a more refined taste, a taste such as he had trained himself since to feel. On this point he was accustomed to take long and detailed counsel with himself, in long sleepless nights, and sometimes on pleasant evenings in talks with his friends. Could these discussions and suggestions have been preserved by a shorthand writer, we should have possessed a noteworthy contribution to productive criticism. But even more valuable will discerning readers find Schiller’s own remarks about the projected and indeed commenced “Demetrius,” which fine example of penetrating and critical creative ability is preserved for us in the supplement to his works. The three plays mentioned above, however, we decided not to touch, for what is offensive in them is too closely bound up with their contents and form; and we had to trust to fortune in transmitting them to posterity just as they had sprung from a powerful and bizarre genius.