squalor, combined with moral agony,
were at work on Schubart; at the end of a year, he was grown so weak,
that he could not stand except by leaning on the walls of his cell. A
little while, and he bade fair to get beyond the reach of all his
tyrants. This, however, was not what they wanted. The prisoner was
removed to a wholesome upper room; allowed the use of certain books,
the sight of certain company, and had, at least, the privilege to
think and breathe without obstruction. He was farther gratified by
hearing that his wife and children had been treated kindly: the boys
had been admitted to the Stuttgard school, where Schiller was now
studying; to their mother there had been assigned a pension of two
hundred gulden. Charles of Wuertemberg was undoubtedly a weak and
heartless man, but we know not that he was a savage one: in the
punishment of Schubart, it is possible enough that he believed himself
to be discharging an important duty to the world. The only subject of
regret is, that any duty to the world, beyond the duty of existing
inoffensively, should be committed to such hands; that men like
Charles and Ried, endowed with so very small a fraction of the common
faculties of manhood, should have the destiny of any living thing at
their control.

Another mitigating circumstance in Schubart's lot was the character of
his gaoler. This humane person had himself tasted the tender mercies
of 'paternal' government; he knew the nature of a dungeon better even
than his prisoner. 'For four years,' we are told, 'he had seen no
human face; his scanty food had been lowered to him through a
trap-door; neither chair nor table were allowed him, his cell was
never swept, his beard and nails were left to grow, the humblest
conveniences of civilised humanity were denied him!'[67] On this man
affliction had produced its softening, not its hardening influence: he
had grown religious, and merciful in heart; he studied to alleviate
Schubart's hard fate by every means within his power. He spoke
comfortingly to him; ministered to his infirmities, and, in spite of
orders, lent him all his books. These, it is true, were only treatises
on theosophy and mystical devotion; but they were the best he had; and
to Schubart, in his first lonely dungeon, they afforded occupation and
solace.

[Footnote 67: And yet Mr. Fox is reported to have said:
_There was one_ FREE _Government on the Continent, and that
one was--Wuertemberg._ They ha