a judicious
critic, and a warm lover of the arts and their cultivators. The following
notice of his death is extracted from the _Conversations-Lexicon_,
Part III. p. 12: 'Died at Mannheim, on the 27th of December 1806, in
his 85th year, Wolfgang Heribert, Reichsfreiherr von Dalberg; knighted
by the Emperor Leopold on his coronation at Frankfort. A warm friend
and patron of the arts and sciences; while the German Society
flourished at Mannheim, he was its first President; and the theatre of
that town, the school of the best actors in Germany, of Iffland, Beck,
Beil, and many others, owes to him its foundation, and its maintenance
throughout his long Intendancy, which he held till 1803. As a writer
and a poet, he is no less favourably known. We need only refer to his
_Cora_, a musical drama, and to 'the _Monch von Carmel_.'--These
letters of Schiller were found among his papers at his death; rescued
from destruction by two of his executors, and published at Carlsruhe,
in a small duodecimo, in the year 1819. There is a verbose preface,
but no note or comment, though some such aid is now and then a little
wanted.

The letters most worthy of our notice are those relating to the
exhibition of the _Robbers_ on the Mannheim stage, and to Schiller's
consequent embarrassments and flight. From these, accordingly, the
most of our selections shall be taken. It is curious to see with what
timidity the intercourse on Schiller's part commences; and how this
awkward shyness gradually gives place to some degree of confidence, as
he becomes acquainted with his patron, or is called to treat of
subjects where he feels that he himself has a dignity, and rights of
his own, forlorn and humble as he is. At first he never mentions
Dalberg but with all his titles, some of which to our unceremonious
ears seem ludicrous enough. Thus in the full style of German
reverence, he avoids directly naming his correspondent, but uses the
oblique designation of 'your Excellency,' or something equally
exalted: and he begins his two earliest letters with an address,
which, literally interpreted, runs thus: 'Empire-free, Highly-wellborn,
Particularly-much-to-be-venerated, Lord Privy Counsellor!' Such
sounding phrases make us smile: but they entirely depend on custom for
their import, and the smile which they excite is not by any means a
philosophic one. It is but fair that in our version we omit them, or
render them by some more grave equivalent.

The first