Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 095.djvu/150

Rh he called "The Labyrinth." A short extract from the account of his arrival at Worms, on the Rhine, may be interesting to some readers:

"Traversing a pleasant road at the foot of sloping hills on the right hand, and by the margin of the majestic ever-flowing Rhine, in sight of fertile flowery fields, vineyards, many-tinted groves of nut-trees, and smiling gardens, we approached about mid-day the old imperial city. I could not help feeling deeper interest as I gazed on its venerable roofs than I had ever experienced on visiting any other place. The spirit of Luther seemed to hover over me! … We went straight to the time-hallowed spot where the intrepid Luther appeared at the Diet, in 1521, before Charles V. 'Here he stood!' we exclaimed; and, over-powered by the exciting remembrance, we sank upon our knees. Yes, here stood, at that time, Europe’s single worthy representative, with the fate of centuries on his Atlas shoulders! He felt that the freedom—the spiritual light—the happiness of numerous races, would fail if he were to give way, and he stood immovable as a rock amidst the wildest storms—a second, but more steadfast, Peter! How quailed Lynilden's Son before his lofty energy! With a countenance radiant in light from heaven, high towered his noble head above all the startled concourse there: the dagger fell from the trembling hand of the assassin; the poisoned chalice burst, symbolical of the overthrow of Papacy, and the scattering of the clouds of darkness!"

After many wanderings, Baggesen returned to settle in Copenhagen in 1798, bringing with him a second wife, whom he had married at Paris, not long after the death of the first one. He was appointed director of the theatre; but soon became tired of a stationary life, and left Zealand for tho continent. He published in German as well as in Danish; but so numerous were his writings, that it will be sufficient to say his Danish works alone fill twelve volumes, in an edition published by his son. Baggesen was truly an erratic genius; as both his writings and his life evinced: brilliant, sensitive, and peevish, he had great talents, but he wanted perseverance and ballast.

It is manifestly impossible here to give any adequate specimen of Baggesen’s writings; therefore we shall only take a few verses from one of his early productions—"Holger Danske"—and some lines written at a later period of his life, which are much admired by the Danes:

Twas the midnight hour, and spectres danced

Round Urian;

While hill and dale, and forest glanced

As lightning ran.

Round Urian loudly thunders roar

Amidst the night;

Then all became dark, as before

Blazed yonder light.

But brave Sir Oller still onwards pressed

Towards the wood;

He spurred—no fear his soul possessed—

His charger good.