The books came from a man named Reinwald, who was in charge of the ducal
library at Meiningen and to whom Schiller, foreseeing his own need, had
made haste to introduce himself. Reinwald was some twenty-two years
older than Schiller, a bit of a poet and a man of some literary
ambition; but he had not got on well in the world. It was fated that he
should marry Christophine Schiller, become peevish and sour in the
course of time and lose the respect of his brother-in-law. For the
present, however, he proved a very useful friend; for he not only
executed orders for books and tobacco (Schiller had learned to smoke and
take snuff), but he served as general intermediary between the
mysterious Dr. Ritter and the outside world. Schiller's nature craved
friendship, and his imagination easily endowed Reinwald with the
qualities of an ideal companion of the soul. After a while we find him
writing in such a strain as this:

Your visit the day before yesterday produced a glorious effect, I
feel my spirits renewed and a warmer life courses through all my
nerves. My situation in this solitude has drawn upon my soul the
fate of stagnant water, which becomes foul unless it Is stirred up a
little now and then. And I too hope to become necessary to your
heart.[48]

As for Reinwald, he had long since passed the effusive age, but it
pleased him to receive the younger man's confidence. He wrote in his
diary: 'To-day Schiller opened his heart to me,--a youth who has already
been through the school of life,--and I found him worthy to be called my
friend. I do not believe that I have given my confidence to an unworthy
man. He has an extraordinary mind and I believe that Germany will some
day name his name with pride.'--Which was not bad guessing in its way.