after a brief and painless illness, he died, August 1st, 1875. His
admirers had already erected a statue in his honor, and the State gave
him a magnificent funeral; but his most enduring monument is that which
his 'Wonder Tales' are still building all around the world.

The character of Andersen is full of curious contrasts. Like the French
fabulist, La Fontaine, he was a child all his life, and often a spoiled
child; yet he joined to childlike simplicity no small share of worldly
wisdom. Constant travel made him a shrewd observer of detail, but his
self-absorption kept him from sympathy with the broad political
aspirations of his generation.

In the judgment of his friends and critics, his autobiographical 'Story
of My Life' is strangely unjust, and he never understood the limitations
of his genius. He was not fond of children, nor personally attractive to
them, though his letters to them are charming.

In personal appearance he was limp, ungainly, awkward, and odd, with
long lean limbs, broad flat hands, and feet of striking size. His eyes
were small and deep-set, his nose very large, his neck very long; but he
masked his defects by studied care in dress, and always fancied he
looked distinguished, delighting to display his numerous decorations on
his evening dress in complacent profusion.

On Andersen's style there is a remarkably acute study by his
fellow-countryman Brandes, in 'Kritiker og Portraite' (Critiques and
Portraits), and a useful comment in Boyesen's 'Scandinavian Literature.'
When not perverted by his translators, it is perhaps better suited than
any other to the comprehension of children. His syntax and rhetoric are
often faulty; and in the 'Tales' he does not hesitate to take liberties