We greatly regretted that we had not a glimpse at that magnificent lioness of Pillnitz, the Princess Amelia, sister to the monarch, and PLAYWRITER to Germany in general. How she, as a Saxon princess, contrived to depict on the stage, “the domestic manners of the Germans,” as Mrs. Jameson very artfully terms her dramas, is beyond my comprehension, unless she imitated the Eastern Princes of former days, who went _incog._ among their subjects. Be this as it may, I confess I do not see any delineation of character in these plays that might not be picked up in the library, theatre, and drawing-room, by any clever girl of Princess Amelia’s calibre and talents. There is a clearer insight into domestic manners in one of Horace’s Odes or Satires (vide Sat. VIII.,) than in the whole of the Princess’s plays put together. DRESDEN. We approached this city on a beautiful evening—its numerous spires and domes, its raised terraces, shaded promenades, broad river, and handsome bridge, making a favourable impression on the stranger’s mind. The bridge, though said to be the finest in Germany, would make a sorry figure alongside of our Waterloo—and it bears on its centre arch a memorial that is not likely ever to appear on any bridge that crosses the Thames—the marks of a blow-up by a French General. The memorial, however, is not very complimentary to the Gallic soldiers, who performed the exploit to prevent the allies from running—_after them_! I wish the bridge regulation over the Elbe was enforced on all bridges, and even streets—viz. that of compelling passengers to take the right-hand side, by which they avoid jostlings or collisions. The new town, on the right bank, is the unfashionable one—the old one, the reverse—though the streets of the latter are narrow, the houses high, and very dull as well as unadorned.