THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
into this pit and had been rescued by a noble youth after a heroic fight with the monstrous beasts. This adventure, not very original to be sure, I worked up in pompous eight-line stanzas, the sound of which delighted me so much that I could not refrain from sending a copy of my poem to my father. He, even prouder of it than I, hastened to show the verses to Count Metternich. The count, who probably took little interest in any kind of poetry, pronounced them fine, but said that he had never heard of this occurrence as a part of his family history—which did not surprise me in the least.
At prose, too, I tried my hand. Once, after having written a composition on “Schiller's Maid of Orleans,” which struck me as especially good, I found it difficult to resist the ambitious desire of seeing myself in print. I made a clean copy of the composition and carried it to the office of the Cologne Gazette, with a letter addressed to Levin Schücking, a well-known novelist of the time, and the literary editor of that great journal. In my letter I begged the privilege of a personal interview. A courteous answer fixed the day and hour of my visit, and soon I stood, with loud heart-beats, at the great man's door, who, so I believed, held my literary future in the hollow of his hand. I found in him an amiable gentleman, with pleasant features, and large, blue, benevolent eyes. He received me very kindly, talked upon a variety of subjects and finally returned my manuscript to me with the remark that it contained much that was excellent, but that I would do well to regard it only as a “study.” I departed completely crushed with disappointment and mortification; but after all I lived to become sincerely grateful to good Mr. Schücking for his timely counsel. Much that I have since written has, in pursuance of his sound advice, been quietly treated as a “study” by myself.
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