his two sons after his death. He partook
largely of the satirical vein which characterises
Voltaire, Wieland, and Sterne. He was a
virulent opponent of the romanticism which was
then invading literary Denmark, and ridiculed,
in his Playful Stories, the ancient Scandinavian
traditions. Notwithstanding which, he
described in inflated style the massacres of the
first French revolution, which he witnessed.
On the first of January, 1795, he wrote, "What
a heavy-laden waggon has this night crossed
the threshold of eternity! I remained up till
midnight, in order to behold the curtain fall
on the terrible spectacle of the year 1794, and
I think I can still hear the crash of the gates
closing behind its wheels, and the ground
resounding at the fall of its heavy load of dead
bodies. Whilst hell triumphed, heaven wept;
and the tears which fell from the eyes of the
Genius of Humanity had nearly extinguished
the bonfires of the demons. Suddenly, the
devils burst forth into peals of despairing
laughter, in the presence of the corpse of
Robespierre himself, and the angels ceased to
weep. When all was over, the Genius of
Humanity exclaimed, 'Let Ahrimanes repose
at last,'"

Wessel, born in Norway, but educated in
Denmark, led an irregular and poverty-stricken
life as teacher, translator of French pieces for
the theatre, and journalist. He wrote for a
magazine called Your Servant Otiosis, stories
in verse, which are still read with pleasure.
In his Love Without Stockings, he gaily
parodied the long tirades and Alexandrines of
the French classical drama, at the same time
that he profited by it to polish his style and
his versification. The plot of his burlesque is
this. A journeyman tailor is in love with
Grethe, a fat merry girl who eats raw ham
and pickled herring. During his absence, a
rival arrives. Grethe has a confidante who
treats her like a queen, and only addresses her
in pompous hexameters. The rival also has a
confidant who calls him "lord." The journeyman
tailor, on his return, wishes to marry
Grethe. But there is one grand obstacle; he
has no stockings to go to church in. At this
sad announcement, the heroine faints.
Unfortunately, the confidante, who always has her wits
about her, advises the loving tailor to steal a
pair of stockings from his rival. He follows
the evil counsel, and returns in triumph to his
princess, who receives him like a conqueror.
But the theft is discovered. The lover kills
himself, refusing to survive his disgrace. The
lady kills herself, refusing to live without him.
The rival kills himself, because he still loves
Grethe; and the two confidants, out of sheer
ennui, kill themselves because there will be no
more confidences for them to receive.

The subsequent epoch is completely filled by
Œhlenschläger's celebrity. His death took
place so recently as the 21st of January, 1850.
He was born, in 1779, at Fredericksburg, a
royal residence near Copenhagen, of which his
father was steward. He was originally intended
for the navy, but the intention failed to take
effect. He appeared without success on the
Copenhagen stage, entered the university, and
eighteen months afterwards passed his
examinations in philology and philosophy. He then
published a volume of poetry on subjects taken
from the Scandinavian Mythology, which
attracted considerable attention. Travels which
he made, with government assistance, gave him
an opportunity of describing France, Germany,
Switzerland, and Italy. His patrons succeeded
in obtaining for him the professorship of Æsthetics
(Polite Literature), which he held until his
death. In this capacity, his society was much
courted by literary travellers. In 1818, he was
appointed member of the Academic Senate, and
Chevalier of the Order of the Danebrog.

Œhlenschläger produced more than thirty
successful pieces for the theatre, and, for several
years, filled the office of co-director of the
Copenhagen Theatre Royal. His heroic and epic
poems, The death of Balder, Hrolf Krake; and
The Gods of the North, were less popular with
his countrymen than his dramas. Among his
numerous productions may be cited, Hakon Jarl,
a picture of the struggle between Christianity
and Odinism; Palnatoke, a famous Sea-king of
the tenth century; Axel and Valborg, a
celebrated middle-age legend; and Socrates, the
last scene of which Œhlenschläger had read to
him on his death-bed. These grave productions
were diversified by a sprinkling of lighter lucubrations
—comedies, operas, and fantastic sketches.

The following—the Punishment of Cowardice
—is from his Gods of the North:

"Loki and his companions followed the god
Thor, and they arrived all together before
Helheim (the abode of Hela or Death). Thor
knocked at the gates with his magic lance; they
opened, and the god and his suite entered into
the kingdom of shadows.

"They passed through numerous and winding
vaults. Their footsteps produced a muffled
sound, and a thousand echoes repeated the noise
of their arms.

"After traversing innumerable galleries, they
reached a sort of passage so narrow and so low
that they were obliged to stoop and march in
single file. At the extremity of this passage,
they perceived a vast, circular grotto, lined with
hewn stone, and dimly lighted.

"In it, there sat along the walls in several
rows, men with pale and livid countenances,
trembling in every limb. A cold sweat streamed
down their foreheads. They were wrapped in
winding-sheets fastened round their loins by
serpents.

"In a recess of the cavern was a throne
built up of human bones, on which sat Hela, the
queen of the dead. Half black, half white, she
regarded the funeral assembly with menacing
looks.

"Her crown was composed of skulls. In her
right hand, by way of sceptre, she held an
immense thigh-bone, still damp with corruption,
freshly torn from a skeleton, and bleached in the
moonbeams.