about the most awful character in Shakspeare; but Schiller's Philip
II. is something beyond even this, without perhaps so much necessity
for the exhibition of this absolute delight in evil. It is long
since I have been so excited in a theatre. I was three rows from the
stage, heard and understood everything, and was so completely carried
away by the grandeur and intense feeling of Devrient (who was well
supported by the Don Carlos), that I had some difficulty to keep
quiet, and feel to-day rather odd, shaken, as it were, from such a
strain upon the feelings.'

Here is a letter, enclosed within one to his sister Fanny on
September 9, written on a scrap of paper. The apologetic tone of
confession is amusing:--

'My dearest Father,--I have not before told you that I have been at
work for just three weeks upon a new subject; reading, however,
Hebrew every day almost for three hours as well. Schier is not a
great Hebraist; and I found the language in one sense easier than I
expected, so that with good grammar and dictionary I can quite get on
by myself, reading an easy part of the Bible (historical books, e.g.}
at the rate of about twenty-five verses an hour. Well, I began to
think that I ought to use the opportunities that Dresden affords. I
know that Hebrew is not a rich language; that many words occur only
once, and consequently have an arbitrary meaning attached to them,
unless they can be illustrated from cognate languages. Now I have a
taste for these things, and have in three weeks progressed so far in
my new study as to feel sure I shall make it useful; and so I tell
you without fear I am working at Arabic. I hope you won't think it
silly. It is very hard, and for ten days was as hard work as I ever
had in my life. I think I have learnt enough to see my way now, and