THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE [0]
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE
by Hans Christian Andersen
FAR away towards the east, in India, which seemed in those days
the world's end, stood the Tree of the Sun; a noble tree, such as we
have never seen, and perhaps never may see.
The summit of this tree spread itself for miles like an entire
forest, each of its smaller branches forming a complete tree. Palms,
beech-trees, pines, plane-trees, and various other kinds, which are
found in all parts of the world, were here like small branches,
shooting forth from the great tree; while the larger boughs, with
their knots and curves, formed valleys and hills, clothed with velvety
green and covered with flowers. Everywhere it was like a blooming
meadow or a lovely garden. Here were birds from all quarters of the
world assembled together; birds from the primeval forests of
America, from the rose gardens of Damascus, and from the deserts of
Africa, in which the elephant and the lion may boast of being the only
rulers. Birds from the Polar regions came flying here, and of course
the stork and the swallow were not absent. But the birds were not
the only living creatures. There were stags, squirrels, antelopes, and
hundreds of other beautiful and light-footed animals here found a
home.
The summit of the tree was a wide-spreading garden, and in the
midst of it, where the green boughs formed a kind of hill, stood a
castle of crystal, with a view from it towards every quarter of
heaven. Each tower was erected in the form of a lily, and within the
stern was a winding staircase, through which one could ascend to the
top and step out upon the leaves as upon balconies. The calyx of the
flower itself formed a most beautiful, glittering, circular hall,
above which no other roof arose than the blue firmament and the sun
and stars.
Just as much splendor, but of another kind, appeared below, in the
wide halls of the castle. Here, on the walls, were reflected
pictures of the world, which represented numerous and varied scenes of
everything that took place daily, so that it was useless to read the
newspapers, and indeed there were none to be obtained in this spot.
All was to be seen in living pictures by those who wished it, but
all would have been too much for even the wisest man, and this man
dwelt here. His name is very difficult; you would not be able to
pronounce it, so it may be omitted. He knew everything that a man on
earth can know or imagine. Every invention already in existence or yet
to be, was known to him, and much more; still everything on earth
has a limit. The wise king Solomon was not half so wise as this man.
He could govern the powers of nature and held sway over potent
spirits; even Death itself was obliged to give him every morning a
list of those who were to die during the day. And King Solomon himself
had to die at last, and this fact it was which so often occupied the
thoughts of this great man in the castle on the Tree of the Sun. He
knew that he also, however high he might tower above other men in
wisdom, must one day die. He knew that his children would fade away
like the leaves of the forest and become dust. He saw the human race
wither and fall like leaves from the tree; he saw new men come to fill
their places, but the leaves that fell off never sprouted forth again;
they crumbled to dust or were absorbed into other plants.
"What happens to man," asked the wise man of himself, "when
touched by the angel of death? What can death be? The body decays, and
the soul. Yes; what is the soul, and whither does it go?"
"To eternal life," says the comforting voice of religion.
"But what is this change? Where and how shall we exist?"
"Above; in heaven," answers the pious man; "it is there we hope to
go."
"Above!" repeated the wise man, fixing his eyes upon the moon
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE
by Hans Christian Andersen
FAR away towards the east, in India, which seemed in those days
the world's end, stood the Tree of the Sun; a noble tree, such as we
have never seen, and perhaps never may see.
The summit of this tree spread itself for miles like an entire
forest, each of its smaller branches forming a complete tree. Palms,
beech-trees, pines, plane-trees, and various other kinds, which are
found in all parts of the world, were here like small branches,
shooting forth from the great tree; while the larger boughs, with
their knots and curves, formed valleys and hills, clothed with velvety
green and covered with flowers. Everywhere it was like a blooming
meadow or a lovely garden. Here were birds from all quarters of the
world assembled together; birds from the primeval forests of
America, from the rose gardens of Damascus, and from the deserts of
Africa, in which the elephant and the lion may boast of being the only
rulers. Birds from the Polar regions came flying here, and of course
the stork and the swallow were not absent. But the birds were not
the only living creatures. There were stags, squirrels, antelopes, and
hundreds of other beautiful and light-footed animals here found a
home.
The summit of the tree was a wide-spreading garden, and in the
midst of it, where the green boughs formed a kind of hill, stood a
castle of crystal, with a view from it towards every quarter of
heaven. Each tower was erected in the form of a lily, and within the
stern was a winding staircase, through which one could ascend to the
top and step out upon the leaves as upon balconies. The calyx of the
flower itself formed a most beautiful, glittering, circular hall,
above which no other roof arose than the blue firmament and the sun
and stars.
Just as much splendor, but of another kind, appeared below, in the
wide halls of the castle. Here, on the walls, were reflected
pictures of the world, which represented numerous and varied scenes of
everything that took place daily, so that it was useless to read the
newspapers, and indeed there were none to be obtained in this spot.
All was to be seen in living pictures by those who wished it, but
all would have been too much for even the wisest man, and this man
dwelt here. His name is very difficult; you would not be able to
pronounce it, so it may be omitted. He knew everything that a man on
earth can know or imagine. Every invention already in existence or yet
to be, was known to him, and much more; still everything on earth
has a limit. The wise king Solomon was not half so wise as this man.
He could govern the powers of nature and held sway over potent
spirits; even Death itself was obliged to give him every morning a
list of those who were to die during the day. And King Solomon himself
had to die at last, and this fact it was which so often occupied the
thoughts of this great man in the castle on the Tree of the Sun. He
knew that he also, however high he might tower above other men in
wisdom, must one day die. He knew that his children would fade away
like the leaves of the forest and become dust. He saw the human race
wither and fall like leaves from the tree; he saw new men come to fill
their places, but the leaves that fell off never sprouted forth again;
they crumbled to dust or were absorbed into other plants.
"What happens to man," asked the wise man of himself, "when
touched by the angel of death? What can death be? The body decays, and
the soul. Yes; what is the soul, and whither does it go?"
"To eternal life," says the comforting voice of religion.
"But what is this change? Where and how shall we exist?"
"Above; in heaven," answers the pious man; "it is there we hope to
go."
"Above!" repeated the wise man, fixing his eyes upon the moon