rix-dollars for four years. He then visited, chiefly on foot, most of the countries of Europe, and returned to Denmark in 1716. Two years afterward he published an Introduction to Natural and Popular Law, and was appointed Professor of Metaphysics in the University of Copenhagen. In 1720 he was given the more lucrative chair of Eloquence. Under the pseudonym of "Hans Mikkelsen," he had published in 1719 the seriocomic epic of Peder Paars, a satire on contemporary

manners.

With the opening of the Danish theatre, in 1721, Holberg determined to create a taste for Danish comedy. Until this time all plays acted in Denmark were written in either French or German. The first of his original pieces performed was Den Politiske Kandstöber (The Political Tinsmith), which had an extraordinary success. Before the close of 1722 he produced four more successful plays, Den Vögelsindede; Jean de France; Jeppe of the Mountain, and Gert the Westphalian. Among his comedies, written in 1723, are Barselstuen; Jakob von Thyboe; Den Bundeslöse, Don Ranudo, and Melampe. His most famous comedy of 1724 was Henrik and Pernille. He continued his dramatic labors until 1728. In 1731 he collected his comedies. His later works were historical, philosophical, and statistical. Among them are a Description of Denmark and Norway (1729); Description of Bergen (1737); Universal Church History (1738); Stories of Heroes and Heroines (1739-45); History of the Jews (1742); Moral Reflections (1744); Moral Fables (1751); and five volumes of Epistles. His only poem published in these years was The Subterranean Voyage of Nicholas Klim (1741), published first in Latin, and afterward trans

lated into Danish. To Holberg Danish literature owes its existence. His genius created it. Before his time it was said that "a man wrote Latin to his friends, talked French to the ladies, called his dogs in German, and used Danish only to swear at his servants."

The selection given is from The Political Tinsmith. This man thinks that the government is badly administered, and that he can set it right. He and his friends hold political meetings, while his business goes to rack and ruin. He is in danger of arrest, when someone proposes to cure him by letting him try his hand at government. The members of the Council tell him that he has been chosen Burgomaster of Hamburg; their wives call on his. All sorts of applicants for justice appear; sailors with bludgeons threaten him; two opposed counsel appeal to him, and convince him that both are right. Driven to the verge of lunacy, he begs his apprentice to take the Burgomastership off his hands, and permit him to be only Herman the Tinsmith.

FROM THE POLITICAL TINSMITH.

[GESKE, wife of HERMAN, the tinsmith; HENRICH, the apprentice.]

Geske. Henrich!

Henrich.- Ay!

Ges.- Henrich, from this time you must not speak in that way; don't you know what has happened to us? Hen.- No; I never heard.

Ges. My husband has become Burgomaster.

Hen. Of where?

Ges. Of where? why of Hamburg!

Hen. The duce, is he? That was indeed the devil of a tinsmith!

Herman.- Henrich, speak with more discretion; you must know that you are now the lackey of a great man.

Hen.- Lackey! am I raised so high?

Her. You may rise yet higher. You may in time be the servant of a gentleman of property. Only be silent. You may some day have to drive, lackey, until I can get a servant. He can wear my brown coat, dear heart! till we can get his livery ready.

Ges.- But. I am afraid it will be too long for him.

Her. Yes, to be sure it will be too long, but one must help one's self at a pinch as one can.

Hen. It will reach down to my heels! I shall look like a Jewish High Priest.

Her.- Listen, Henrich!

Hen. Yes, master.

Her.- Fellow, don't give me such titles any more! When I call you, you must answer, Sir! and when anybody comes to inquire for me, you must say, "Mr. Burgomaster von Bremenfeld is at home!"

Hen.- Must I say so, sir, whether you are at home or not?

Her. What nonsense! When I am not home you must say, “Mr. Burgomaster von Bremenfeld is not at home; and when I don't wish to be at home, you must say, "Mr. Burgomaster does not give audience to-day." [To Geske.] Listen, dear heart! you must directly have. coffee ready, that you may have something to entertain. the aldermen's ladies when they come; for our reputation will hereafter depend upon people being able to say, "The Burgomaster von Bremenfeld gave good dinners and his lady good coffee." I am very much afraid, dear heart, that you will make some mistake until you are accustomed to the high position to which you are advanced. Now let Henrich run out and fetch in a teatray and some cups, and let the girl run and get sixpennyworths of coffee, we can buy more afterward. This must be a rule to you, dear heart! that you don't talk much until you have learned how properly to discourse. You must not be too humble, but stand upon what is befitting you, and labor, above everything, to put the old tinman-life out of your head, and imagine that you have been the Burgomaster's lady for many years. In the morning there must always be a tea-table ready

prepared for callers, and in the afternoon coffee, and with the coffee, cards. There is a certain game at cards called "Allumber," which I would give a hundred rixdollars, that you and our daughter, Miss Angelica, understood. You must therefore pay great attention when you see anybody playing it, that you may learn it. In the morning you should lie in bed till nine or half-past, because it is only the common people who in summer get up with the sun; yet on Sundays you may get up rather earlier, as on that day I shall drive for my health's sake. You must have a handsome snuff-box, which you may have lying on the table beside you when you play at cards. And when anybody drinks your health, you must not say, thank you, but très humble serviteur. And when you yawn, you need not hold up your hand before your mouth, for that is not customary with fine folks. And when you are in company, you need not be too particular, but set prudery somewhat aside.

But listen, I had forgot something; you should also have a lap-dog, of which you must be as fond as of your own daughter, for that too is genteel. Our neighbor Arianke has a pretty little dog which she will lend you till we can get one of our own. You must give your dog a French name, which I will hunt out for you, when I have a little time to spare. It must always lie in your lap, and you must kiss it at least half a score times, when company is by.

Ges. Nay, my good husband! that I cannot possibly do; for one never knows in what dirt a dog has lain. One should get one's mouth full of filth and fleas.

Her.- What nonsense! If you will be a lady you must have the whims of a lady. Besides, a dog can also furnish you with something to talk about; for when you have nothing else to say, you can relate the peculiarities and good qualities of your dog. Do only as I tell you, dear heart! I understand the genteel world better than you do. Take me only as your model, and you shall see that there will not be a single fragment of the old tinsmith left about me. I shall not do as a certain butcher did who, when he became alderman, after he had written on one side of a sheet of paper, and wanted

to turn over, stuck his pen in his mouth as he had been used to with his butcher's knife. Now go in and give your directions. I have something to say to Henrich alone.- Translation of WM. HOWITT.

OLCROFT, THOMAS, an English dramatist and

novelist; born at London, December 10, 1745; died there, March 23, 1809. His father was a shoemaker and keeper of a livery-stable, and the son was his assistant. In time he became trainer of a race-horse at Newmarket, was subsequently a schoolmaster, and finally went upon the stage. At the time of the French Revolution he fell under the suspicions of Government, and in company with Horne Tooke, Thelwall, and others, was indicted for high treason. Some of the persons indicted were formally acquitted; others, among whom was Holcroft, were discharged without a trial. He wrote some thirty plays, the best known of which is The Road to Ruin; four novels, the best of which is Hugh Trevor, in which he depicted the vices and distresses which he conceived to be generated by the existing institutions of society; and a volume of autobiographical Memoirs, which were edited by William Hazlitt, and posthumously published in 1816. The following song is from Hugh Trevor:

GAFFER GRAY.

Ho! why dost thou shiver and shake,
Gaffer Gray?

And why does thy nose look so blue?