BEAUTY OF FORM AND BEAUTY OF MIND.txt

1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
BEAUTY OF FORM AND BEAUTY OF MIND
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE was once a sculptor, named Alfred, who having won the
large gold medal and obtained a travelling scholarship, went to Italy,
and then came back to his native land. He was young at that time-
indeed, he is young still, although he is ten years older than he
was then. On his return, he went to visit one of the little towns in
the island of Zealand. The whole town knew who the stranger was; and
one of the richest men in the place gave a party in his honor, and all
who were of any consequence, or who possessed some property, were
invited. It was quite an event, and all the town knew of it, so that
it was not necessary to announce it by beat of drum.
Apprentice-boys, children of the poor, and even the poor people
themselves, stood before the house, watching the lighted windows;
and the watchman might easily fancy he was giving a party also,
there were so many people in the streets. There was quite an air of
festivity about it, and the house was full of it; for Mr. Alfred,
the sculptor, was there. He talked and told anecdotes, and every one
listened to him with pleasure, not unmingled with awe; but none felt
so much respect for him as did the elderly widow of a naval officer.
She seemed, so far as Mr. Alfred was concerned, to be like a piece
of fresh blotting-paper that absorbed all he said and asked for
more. She was very appreciative, and incredibly ignorant- a kind of
female Gaspar Hauser.
"I should like to see Rome," she said; "it must be a lovely
city, or so many foreigners would not be constantly arriving there.
Now, do give me a description of Rome. How does the city look when you
enter in at the gate?"
"I cannot very well describe it," said the sculptor; "but you
enter on a large open space, in the centre of which stands an obelisk,
which is a thousand years old."
"anist!" exclaimed the lady, who had never heard the word