sion on the boy, and he prayed in secret for the soul of his father. Another day his father said, "There is no other devil but what a man bears in his own breast!" After which, finding his arm scratched one morning when he awoke, his wife said it was a punishment of the devil, to teach him his real existence.

about in manuscript, and people laughed at it, and ridiculed him as the "play-writer." This wounded him so deeply, that he passed one whole night weeping, and was only pacified, or rather silenced, by his mother threatening to give him a good beating for his folly. Spite, however, of his ill-success, he wrote again and again, studying, The unhappy temper of the father in- among other devices, German and French creased from day to day; he longed to go words, to give dignity to his dialogue. forth into the world. At that time war was Again the whole town read his productions, raging in Germany. Napoleon was his and the boys shouted after him as he went, hero, and as Denmark had now allied itself" Look! look! there goes the play-writo France, he enlisted as a private soldier in a recruiting regiment, hoping that some time or other he might return as a lieutenant. The neighbors, however, thought it was a folly to let himself be shot for no purpose at all. The corps in which he served went no further than Holstein; the peace succeeded, and the poor shoemaker returned to his trade, only chagrined to have seen no The worldly affairs of the mother grew service, nor even been in foreign lands. worse and worse, and as boys of his age But though he had seen no service, his earned money in a manufactory near, it was health had suffered; he awoke one morn-resolved that there also Hans Christian ing delirious, and talked about campaigns should be sent. His old grandmother took and Napoleon. Young Andersen, then him to the manufactory, and shed bitter

Terrified almost out of his senses lest he should meet the ghost, he set out on his homeward way, and reached his own door without any such apparition presenting itself; but for all that, his father died on the third day.

From this time, young Andersen was left to himself. The whole instruction that he ever received, was in a charity school, and consisted of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but of the two last he knew scarcely anything.

About this time, he was engaged by a widow of a clergyman in Odense, to read aloud to herself and her sister-in-law. She was the widow of a clergyman who had written poems. In this house Andersen first heard the appellation of poet; and saw with what love the poetical talent of the deceased pastor was regarded. This sank deeply into his mind; he read tragedies, resolved to become a poet, as this good man had been before him.

He wrote a tragedy, therefore, which the two ladies praised highly; it was handed VOL. XII. No. II.

15

ter!"

One day he took to his schoolmaster, as a birthday present, a garland with which he had twisted up a little poem. The schoolmaster was angry with him; he saw nothing but folly and false quantities in the verses, and thus the poor lad had nothing but trouble and tears.

tears because the lot of the boy was so early toil and sorrow. The workmen in the factory were principally German, and discovering that Andersen had a fine voice, and knew many popular songs, they made him sing to them while the other boys did his work. He knew himself that he had a good voice, because the neighbors always listened when he sang at home, and once a whole party of rich people had stopped to hear him, and had praised his beautiful voice. Everybody in the manufactory heard him with equal delight.

"I can act comedy as well!" said the poor boy one day, encouraged by their applause, and began to recite whole scenes from the comedies which his father had been in the habit of reading. The workmen were delighted, and the other boys were made to do his tasks while he amused them all. This smooth life of comedy acting and singing lasted but for a short time, and he returned home.

"The boy must go and act at the theatre!" many of the neighbors said to his mother; but as she knew of no other theatre than that of the strolling players, she shook her head, and resolved rather to put her son apprentice to a tailor.

He was now twelve, and had nothing to do; he devoured, therefore, the contents of every book which came in his way. His

favorite reading was an old prose trans-house, and after she had read the cards, lation of Shakspeare. From this, with and studied the coffee-grounds, she prolittle figures which he made of pasteboard, nounced these words: he performed the whole of King Lear, and the Merchant of Venice.

"Your son will become a great man. The city of Odense will one day be illuminated in his honor."

Andersen's passion for reading, and his beautiful voice, had in the meantime drawn A prophecy like this removed all doubts. upon him the attention of several of the "Go in God's name!" said his mother, higher families of the city, who introduced and he lost no time in preparing for his him to their houses. His simple, child-great journey.

like behavior, his wonderful memory, and Some one had mentioned to him a his sweet voice, gave to him a peculiar certain female dancer at the Royal Theatre charm; people talked of him, and he soon as a person of great influence; he obtained, many friends; among others, a therefore, from a gentleman universally. Colonel Guldborg, brother to the well- esteemed in Odense a letter of introduction known poet of that name, and who after- to this lady; and with this, and his thirteen wards introduced him to Prince Christian of rix-dollars, he commenced the journey on Denmark. which depended his whole fate. His About this time his mother married a mother accompanied him to the city gate, second time, and as the step-father would and there his good old grandmother met not spend a penny, or do anything for her him; she kissed him with many tears, son's education, he had still more leisure. blessed him, and he never saw her more. He had no play-fellows, and often wandered by himself to the neighboring forest, or seated himself at home, in a corner of the house, and dressed up little dolls for his theatre, his mother in the meantime thinking that, as he was destined for a tailor, this was all good practice.

At length the time came when he was to be confirmed. On this occasion he had his first pair of boots; he was very vain of them, and that all the world might see them, he pulled them over his trousers. An old sempstress was employed to make him a confirmation-suit out of his deceased father's great coat. Never before had he been possessed of such excellent clothes; the very thoughts of them disturbed his devotions on the day of consecration.

It was not until he had crossed the Great Belt that he felt how forlorn he was in the world; he stepped aside from the road, fell on his knees, and besought God to be his friend. He rose up comforted, and walked on through towns and villages, until on Monday morning, the 5th of September, 1819, he saw the towers of Copenhagen; and with his little bundle under his arm, he entered that great city.

On the day after his arrival, dressed in his confirmation-suit, he betook himself, with his letter of introduction in his hand, to the house of the all-potential dancer. The lady allowed him to wait a long time on the steps of her house, and when at length he entered, his awkward, simple behavior and appearance displeased her; she fancied him insane, more particularly as the gentleman from whom he brought the letter was unknown to her.

He next went to the director of the theatre, requesting some appointment.

"You are too thin for the theatre," was the answer he obtained.

"Oh," replied Andersen, "only ensure me one hundred rix-dollars, and I will soon get fat!"

It had been determined that Andersen was to be apprenticed to a tailor after his confirmation, but he earnestly besought his mother to give up this idea, and consent to his going to Copenhagen, that he might get employment at the theatre there. He read to her the lives of celebrated men who had been quite as poor as himself, and assured her that he also would one day be a celebrated man. For several years he had been hoarding up his money; he had But the director would make no agreenow about thirty shillings, English, which ment of this kind, and then informed him seemed to him an inexhaustible sum. As that they engaged none at the theatre but soon as his mother heard of this fund, her people of education. This settled the heart inclined towards his wishes, and she question; he had nothing to say on his promised to consent on condition that they own behalf, and dejected in spirit went out should consult a wise woman, and that his into the street. He knew no human going or staying should be decided by her creature; he thought of death, and this augury. The sibyl was fetched to the thought turned his mind to God."

"When everything goes adversely," and good man, Conference Counsellor said he, "then God will help me; it is written so in every book that I ever read, and in God will I put my trust!"

Collin, who, perceiving the genius that slumbered in the young poet, went immediately to the king, and obtained permission Days and weeks went on, bringing with from him that he should be sent, at them nothing but disappointment and de- Government charges, to one of the learned spair; his money was all gone, and for schools in the provinces, in which, however, some time he worked with a joiner. At he suffered immensely, till his heart was length, as, with a heavy heart, he was almost broken by unkindness. From this walking one day along the crowded streets school he went to college, and became very of the city, it occurred to him that as yet soon favorably known to the public by nobody had heard his fine voice. Full of true poetical works. Ingemann, Oehlenthis thought, he hastened at once to the schläger, and others then obtained for him a house of Professor Siboni, where a large royal stipend, to enable him to travel; and party happened to be at dinner, and among he visited Germany, France, Switzerland, the guests Baggesen, the poet, and the cele- and Italy. Italy, and the poetical characbrated composer, Professor Weyse. He ter of life in that beautiful country, inknocked at the door, which was opened by spired him; and he wrote the "Improvia female servant, and to her he related, satore," one of the most exquisite works, quite open-heartedly, how forlorn and whether for truthful delineation of characfriendless he was, and how great a desire ter, or pure and noble sentiment, that ever he had to be engaged at the theatre; the was penned. This work most harmoniously young woman went in and related this to combines the warm coloring and intensity the company. All were interested in the of Italian life with the freshness and strong little adventurer; he was ordered in, and simplicity of the north. His romance of desired to sing, and to give some scenes "O. T." followed; this is a true picture from Holberg. One of these scenes bore a of the secluded, sober life of the north, and resemblance to his own melancholy circum- is a great favorite there. His third work, stances, and he burst into tears. The Only a Fiddler," is remarkable for its company applauded him. strongly drawn personal and national cha"I prophesy," said Baggesen, "that racteristics, founded upon his own experithou wilt turn out something remarkable; ence in early life. Perhaps there never only don't become vain when the public admires thee."

was a more affecting picture of the hopeless attempts of a genius of second-rate order to combat against and rise above poverty and adverse circumstances, than is given in the life of poor Christian, who dies at last "only a fiddler.

Professor Siboni promised immediately that he would cultivate Andersen's voice, and that he should make his debut at the Theatre Royal. He had a good friend too in Professor Weyse, and a year and a half In all these works Andersen has drawn were spent in elementary instruction. But from his own experience, and in this lies a new misfortune now befell him; he lost their extraordinary power. There is a his beautiful voice, and Siboni counselled child-like tenderness and simplicity in his him to put himself to some handicraft writings; a sympathy with the poor and trade. He once more seemed abandoned the struggling, and an elevation and to a hopeless fate. Casting about in his purity of tone, which have something absomind who might possibly befriend him, lutely holy about them; it is the inspiration he bethought himself of the poet Guldborg, of true genius, combined with great experiwhose brother the colonel had been so kind ence of life, and a spirit baptized with the to him in Odense. To him he went, and tenderness of Christianity. This it is in him he happily found a friend; although which is the secret of the extreme charm of poverty still pursued him, and his sufferings his celebrated stories for children. They which no one knew almost overcame him. are as simple and as touching as the old He wrote a rhymed tragedy, which ob- Bible narratives of Joseph and his brethren, tained some little praise from Oehlenschlä-and the little lad who died in the corn ger and Ingemann-but no debut was per-field. We wonder not at their being the mitted him on the theatre. He wrote a most popular books of their kind in second and third, but the theatre would Europe.

not accept them. These youthful efforts It has been my happiness, as I said fell, however, into the hand of a powerful before, to translate his three principal

works, his Picture Book without Pictures, | The number of strangers there, and the and several of his stories for children. presence of the Court, gave a peculiar They have likewise been translated into animation to it. The Danish flag was German, and some of them into Dutch, seen waving, and music was heard on all and even Russian. He speaks nobly of hands. I was soon established in my this circumstance in his life. My quarters, and was invited every day to works," says he, seem to come forth dine with their majesties as well as to pass under a lucky star, they fly over all lands. the evening in their circle. On several There is something elevating, but at the evenings I read aloud my little stories to same time something terrific, in seeing them, and nothing could be more gracious one's thoughts spread so far, and among so and kind than they were. It is so well many people; it is indeed almost a fearful when a noble human nature will reveal thing to belong to so many. The noble itself, where otherwise only the king's and good in us becomes a blessing, but the crown and purple mantle might be disbad, one's errors, shoot forth also; and, covered. involuntarily the prayer forces itself from us-God! let me never write down a word of which I shall not be able to give an account to thee!' A peculiar feeling, a mixture of joy and anxiety, fills my heart every time my good genius conveys my fictions to a foreign people."

Of Andersen's present life we need only say that he spends a great deal of time in travelling; he goes from land to land, and from court to court, everywhere an honored guest, and enjoying the glorious reward of a manly struggle against adversity, and the triumph of a lofty and pure genius in seeing its claims generously acknowledged. Let us now see the son of the poor shoemaker of Odense-the friendless, ill-clad, almost heart-broken boy of Copenhagenon one of those occasions, which would make an era in the life of any other literary man, but which are of every day occurrence in his. I will quote from his own words.

"I received a letter from the minister, Count Rantzau Breitenburg, containing an invitation from their majesties of Denmark, to join them at the watering-place of Föhr; this island lies on the North Sea, on the coast of Sleswick. It was just now five-and-twenty years since I, a poor lad, travelled alone and helpless to Copenhagen. Exactly the five-and-twentieth anniversary would be celebrated by my being with my king and queen. Everything which surrounded me, man and nature, reflected themselves imperishably in my soul; I felt myself, as it were, conducted to a point from which I could look forth more distinctly over the past, with all the good fortune and happiness which it had evolved for me.

"Wyck, the largest town of Föhr, in which are the baths, is built like a Dutch town, with houses one story high, sloping roofs, and gables turned to the street.

"I sailed in the train of their majesties, to the largest of the Haligs, those grassy runes in the ocean, which bear testimony to a sunken country. The violence of the sea has changed the mainland into islands, has again riven these, and buried men and villages. Year after year are new portions rent away, and in half a century's time there will be nothing left but sea. The Halligs are now low islets, covered with a dark turf, on which a few flocks graze. When the sea rises, these are driven to the garrets for refuge, and the waves roll over this little region, which lies miles distant from any shore. Oland, which we visited, contains a little town; the houses stand closely side by side, as if in their sore need they had huddled together; they are all erected on a platform, and have little windows like the cabin of a ship. There, solitary, through half the year, sit the wives and daughters spinning. Yet I found books in all the houses; the people read and work, and the sea rises round the houses, which lie like a wreck on the ocean. The church-yard is half washed away; coffins and corpses are frequently exposed to view. It is an appalling sight, and yet the inhabitants of the Haligs are attached to their little home, and frequently die of home sickness when removed from it.

"We found only one man upon the island, and he had only lately arisen from a sick bed; and the others were out on long voyages. We were received by women and girls; they had erected before the church a triumphal arch with flowers, which they had fetched from Föhr, but it was so small and low, that one was obliged to go round it; it nevertheless showed their good will. The Queen was deeply affected by their having cut down their only shrub, a rose-bush, to lay over a marshy place which she had to cross.

"On our return, dinner was served on board the royal steamer, and afterwards, as we sailed in a glorious sunset through this archipelago, the deck of the vessel was changed to a dancing hall; servants flew higher and thither with refreshments; sailors stood upon the paddle-boxes and took soundings, and their deep tones might be Such are truly the feelings of a pure and heard giving the depth of the water. The noble nature. Andersen has stood the test moon rose round and large, and the pro-through every trial of poverty and advermontory of Amrom assumed the appear- sity; the harder trial, that of a sun-bright ance of a snow-covered chain of Alps." prosperity, is now proving him, and so far, thank God, the sterling nature of the man has remained unspoiled.