Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 094.djvu/462



is only very recently that the popular literature of Denmark has become at all known to the generality of English readers; that the names of Danish authors have been heard on the shores of this island, where, 800 years ago, Canute, a Danish monarch, reigned. Perhaps this is partly traceable to the fact, that there has been no direct communication between Great Britain and Denmark, but that Hamburgh, and the north-west portion of Germany, have formed the pathway between the two countries, and the usual medium of intercourse. Even during the late Schleswig-Holstein hostilities, the principal accounts from the theatre of war were received through the Hamburgh newspapers; and the information of almost all that is known to the community at large in Great Britain, of the political events in Denmark, is derived from German papers. No wonder, then, that the Danish works which have appeared in this country have, with a few exceptions, been all re-translations from German versions; and that some of the Danish authors themselves have been classed as Germans.

The limited influence which Denmark has exercised over the destinies and international relations of the greater part of the European governments, the influx of travellers to the sunny south rather than to the bleak north, have tended, and united to prevent that intimate acquaintance with the language and literature of Denmark, which has taken place in regard to those of countries within more easy reach, and which are brought more prominently into contact with England. Although every one is supposed to understand French, translations from that language are to be seen in every penny magazine. The treasures of German lore have found numerous interpreters; Spanish and Portuguese writers have not been without translators; and the best Italian authors, from the difficult Dante to Manzoni’s "Promessi Sposi," have been rendered into English, for the benefit of those who cannot read the beautiful originals. But, except to the élite of the learned and literary world, those native authors, who have instructed or amused the inhabitants of Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, have remained almost as much unknown as if these countries had been situated at the base of the Mountains of the Moon—shut in by swamps and deserts, guarded by tribes of savages, and the scarcely more ferocious wild beasts of nearly impervious forests.

But a new taste seems springing up; translators, having well-nigh exhausted the south, are turning their attention to the north; and it is