What must necessarily have impressed every student of Schiller as most characteristic was the fact that thinking was the very substance of his life, in a higher and more significant sense than perhaps has ever been the case with any other person.  His intellect was alive with spontaneous and almost tireless activity, which ceased only when the attacks of his physical infirmity became overpowering.  Such activity seemed to him a recreation rather than an effort, and was manifested most conspicuously in conversation, for which Schiller appeared to have a natural aptitude.

He never sought for deep subjects of conversation, but seemed rather to leave the introduction of a subject to chance; but from each topic he led the discourse up to a general point of view, and after a short dialogue one found oneself in the very midst of a mentally stimulating discussion.  He always treated the central idea as an end to be attained in common; he always seemed to need the help of the person with whom he was conversing, for, although the latter always felt that the idea was supplied by Schiller alone, Schiller never allowed him to remain inactive.

This was the chief difference between Schiller’s and Herder’s mode of conversing.  Never, perhaps, has there been a man who talked with greater charm than Herder, if one happened to catch him in an agreeable mood—­not a difficult matter when any kind of note was struck with which he was in harmony.

[Illustration:  #WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT# FRANZ KRUeGER]

All the extraordinary qualities of this justly admired man seemed to gain double power in conversation, for which they were so peculiarly adapted.  The thought blossomed forth in expression with a grace and dignity which appeared to proceed from the subject alone, although really belonging only to the individual.  Thus speech flowed on uninterruptedly with a limpidness which still left something remaining for one’s own imagination, and yet with a chiaroscuro which did not prevent one from definitely grasping the thought.  As soon as one subject was exhausted a new one was taken up.  Nothing was gained by making objections which would only have served as a hindrance.  One had listened, one could even talk oneself, but one felt the lack of an interchange of thought.

Schiller’s speech was not really beautiful, but his mind constantly strove, with acumen and precision, to make new intellectual conquests; he held this effort under control, however, and soared above his subject in perfect liberty.  Hence, with a light and delicate touch he utilized any side-issue which presented itself, and this was the reason why his conversation was peculiarly rich in words that are so evidently the inspiration of the moment; yet, in spite of such seeming freedom in the treatment of the subject, the final end was not lost sight of.  Schiller always held with firmness the thread which was bound to lead thither, and, if the conversation was not interrupted by any mishap, he was not prone to bring it to a close until he had reached the goal.