Somnambulism plays a similar part in _Der Prinz von Homburg_, the finest of Kleist's dramas--probably the finest drama produced by the Romantic School. In it all the important characters stand out as if hewn in stone. The dialogue is vigorous and clear; every word tells. The young cavalry leader commits an unpardonable breach of discipline; he is victorious in an engagement which he has brought about in a manner forbidden in his instructions. The Elector condemns him to death. Not for a moment imagining that the sentence will be carried out, the young hero treats it as a mere matter of form. When it dawns upon him that it is sober earnest, a sudden fear of death takes possession of him, and he abjectly begs for his life. Kleist's genius shows itself in the delineation of the mental process by which the Prince becomes himself again, and demands death as his right. Here once more it is the night side of the mind to which attention is drawn. The Prince is nervous, ill, and absent-minded. In the first act he walks in his sleep. In the last we have the realisation of one of his visions. He transgresses orders, not, like the son of Manlius Torquatus, in youthful audacity and martial ardour, but because, in his nervous, dreamy absent-mindedness he has not heard the orders given, and consequently dashes recklessly on. Kleist had been deeply interested by G. H. von Schubert's _Die Nachtseite der Naturwissenschaft_ ("The Night Side of the Science of Nature"). This book, written by the most popular "Naturphilosoph" of the day, is one of the most extravagant works of the whole period. The night side of a planet is that which is turned away from the sun, and only glimmers faintly in the darkness, with a light destitute of warmth, a light in which all objects look strange, and totally different from what they do in the light of the sun. Schubert considers that he succeeds, in his "Science of Nature," in demonstrating the existence of such a night side. The first half of the work is "Naturphilosophie," much as Steffens understood it. "This is certainly not philosophy for the world," says the author, "but it is much older than the world and all its philosophies, and will last much longer." Most of it is on the same lines as the so-called occult sciences of to-day. Man, like the nature which surrounds him, is a "prophetic hieroglyph." In animal magnetism, in somnambulism, in presentiment, and in so-called prescience, proofs are sought of a predestined harmony between the life of the individual and that of the whole.