ht him to
smother this unrest, the never-failing inmate of every human breast,
and patiently continue where he was: but various resources remained to
him, and various hopes invited him from other quarters. The produce of
his works, or even the exercise of his profession, would insure him a
competence anywhere; the former had already gained him distinction
and goodwill in every part of Germany. The first number of his
_Thalia_ had arrived at the court of Hessen-Darmstadt while the Duke
of Sachsen-Weimar happened to be there: the perusal of the first acts
of _Don Carlos_ had introduced the author to that enlightened prince,
who expressed his satisfaction and respect by transmitting him the
title of Counsellor. A less splendid but not less truthful or pleasing
testimonial had lately reached him from Leipzig.

'Some days ago,' he writes, 'I met with a very flattering and
agreeable surprise. There came to me, out of Leipzig, from unknown
hands, four parcels, and as many letters, written with the highest
enthusiasm towards me, and overflowing with poetical devotion. They
were accompanied by four miniature portraits, two of which are of very
beautiful young ladies, and by a pocket-book sewed in the finest
taste. Such a present, from people who can have no interest in it, but
to let me know that they wish me well, and thank me for some cheerful
hours, I prize extremely; the loudest applause of the world could
scarcely have flattered me so agreeably.'

Perhaps this incident, trifling as it was, might not be without effect
in deciding the choice of his future residence. Leipzig had the more
substantial charm of being a centre of activity and commerce of all
sorts, that of literature not excepted; and it contained some more
effectual friends of Schiller than these his unseen admirers. He
resolved on going thither. His wishes and intentions are minutely
detailed to Huber, his chief intimate at Leipzig, in a letter written
shortly before his removal. We translate it for the hints it gives us
of Schiller's tastes and habits at that period of his history.

'This, then, is probably the last letter I shall write to you from
Mannheim. The time from the fifteenth of March has hung upon my hands,
like a trial for life; and, thank Heaven! I am now ten whole days
nearer you. And now, my good friend, as you have already consented to
take my entire confidence upon your shoulders, allow me the pleasure
of leading you into the interior of my