Poor Hofrath von Diehl! A more melancholy and affecting history than his is not readily to be conceived; and amid the ravelled skein of his ideas, the memory of his grievous wrongs stands clear and imperishable. It would be difficult to refer to language more vividly descriptive of the surprise and anguish, and despair, to which a human spirit may be subjected by the base wantonness of others, than that which breaks forth amid the strange wanderings of this document of his. The injured eyesight and hearing--the hair burnt from his head as by lightning--the shock of astonishment when he finds himself, instead of advanced to the post of honour which had been delusively promised him, thrust "there where inexpressible pains are inflicted; pains which make every thing in man which is of the nature of man cry out;" a prey also to epilepsy, and above all to madness. Poor fellow! yet amid the smarting sense of his irreparable injuries he retains all his own humanity of feeling. He cherishes no hatred against mankind. His heart is sound; that is not injured, though his brain is; and he employs himself through the long years of his mental eclipse, with the perpetual hope and endeavour to benefit, not only his friends, his town, his countrymen, but all mankind. It is well that the gallant student in the spring-days of his career, while he runs on the green and gay path of Burschen-life, is kind to him. That he makes daily amends to him, for the crimes and follies of those in a day gone by. May the brave youths of Ruperto-Carolo long cherish this kind feeling to the unfortunate Hofrath! may they smoothen the few years of his earthly course to him! While he lives in the dreams of literary fame and of boundless philanthropy, may they blunt the tooth of that poverty of which he so painfully complains; and, finally, may the brave hands of the sons of the Muses, one day lay that weak but worthily-meaning head, on which some of their precursors heaped wantonly such a fearful calamity, peacefully and honourably at rest. * * *