ge, and
denounce the crime of making it, was not Dogberry or Verges,
but 'one of the noble family of Salis.']

Informed of all these circumstances, the Grand Duke expressed his
disapprobation of Schiller's poetical labours in the most unequivocal
terms. Schiller was at length summoned to appear before him; and it
then turned out, that his Highness was not only dissatisfied with the
moral or political errors of the work, but scandalised moreover at its
want of literary merit. In this latter respect, he was kind enough to
proffer his own services. But Schiller seems to have received the
proposal with no sufficient gratitude; and the interview passed
without advantage to either party. It terminated in the Duke's
commanding Schiller to abide by medical subjects: or at least to
beware of writing any more poetry, without submitting it to _his_
inspection.

We need not comment on this portion of the Grand Duke's history: his
treatment of Schiller has already been sufficiently avenged. By the
great body of mankind, his name will be recollected, chiefly, if at
all, for the sake of the unfriended youth whom he now schooled so
sharply, and afterwards afflicted so cruelly: it will be recollected
also with the angry triumph which we feel against a shallow and
despotic 'noble of convention,' who strains himself to oppress 'one of
nature's nobility,' submitted by blind chance to his dominion,
and--finds that he cannot! All this is far more than the Prince of
Wuertemberg deserves. Of limited faculties, and educated in the French
principles of taste, then common to persons of his rank in Germany, he
had perused the _Robbers_ with unfeigned disgust; he could see in the
author only a misguided enthusiast, with talents barely enough to make
him dangerous. And though he never fully or formally retracted this
injustice, he did not follow it up; when Schiller became known to the
world at large, the Duke ceased to persecute him. The father he still
kept in his service, and nowise molested.

In the mean time, however, various mortifications awaited Schiller. It
was in vain that he discharged the humble duties of his station with
the most strict fidelity, and even, it is said, with superior skill:
he was a suspected person, and his most innocent actions were
misconstrued, his slightest faults were visited with the full measure
of official severity. His busy imagination aggravated the evil. He had
seen poor Schubart[9] wearing out his