s of their loss,
and the shout of the conqueror dies in a mute and gloomy despair. He
who led them on to battle has not returned with them. Apart he lies,
in his victorious field, confounded with the common heaps of humble
dead. After long fruitless searching, they found the royal corpse, not
far from the great stone, which had already stood for centuries
between Luetzen and the Merseburg Canal, but which, ever since this
memorable incident, has borne the name of _Schwedenstein_, the Stone
of the Swede. Defaced with wounds and blood, so as scarcely to be
recognised, trodden under the hoofs of horses, stripped of his
ornaments, even of his clothes, he is drawn from beneath a heap of
dead bodies, brought to Weissenfels, and there delivered to the
lamentations of his troops and the last embraces of his Queen.
Vengeance had first required its tribute, and blood must flow as an
offering to the Monarch; now Love assumes its rights, and mild tears
are shed for the Man. Individual grief is lost in the universal
sorrow. Astounded by this overwhelming stroke, the generals in blank
despondency stand round his bier, and none yet ventures to conceive
the full extent of his loss.'

The descriptive powers of the Historian, though the most popular, are
among the lowest of his endowments. That Schiller was not wanting in
the nobler requisites of his art, might he proved from his reflections
on this very incident, 'striking like a hand from the clouds into the
calculated horologe of men's affairs, and directing the considerate
mind to a higher plan of things.' But the limits of our Work are
already reached. Of Schiller's histories and dramas we can give no
farther specimens: of his lyrical, didactic, moral poems we must take
our leave without giving any. Perhaps the time may come, when all his
writings, transplanted to our own soil, may be offered in their entire
dimensions to the thinkers of these Islands; a conquest by which our
literature, rich as it is, might be enriched still farther.

APPENDIX II.

The preceding Appendix, which is here marked "Appendix _First_," has
hitherto, in all Editions, been the only one, and has ended the Book.
As indeed, for the common run of English readers, it still essentially
may, or even must. But now, for a more select class, and on
inducements that are accidental and peculiar, there is, in this final
or farewell Edition, which stands without change otherwise, s