To conclude: I have become convinced, by repeated experience, that a guardian angel watches over books, places them in proper hands, and if not always, yet often, prevents them from falling into improper. In any case, he exercises an invisible guardianship over every work of true genius and genuine feeling, and with unfailing tact and skill opens or shuts its pages as he sees fit. To this guardian angel I commit our “Schlemihl.” And so, adieu! FOUQUÉ. _Neunhausen_, _May_, 1814. THE STORY WITHOUT AN END. TO MY DAUGHTER MY DEAR CHILD, The story you love so much in German I dedicate to you in English. It was in compliance with your earnest wish that other children might share the delight it has so often afforded you, that I translated it; so that it is, in some sort, yours of right. Let us hope that your confident expectations of sympathy in your pleasure may not be disappointed; or that, if others think the story less beautiful than you do, they may find compensation in the graceful designs it has inspired. You have often regretted that it left off so soon, and would, I believe, “have been glad to hear more and more, and for ever.” The continuation you have longed for lies in a wide and magnificent book, which contains more wonderful and glorious things than all our favourite fairy tales put together. But to read in that book, so as to discover all its beautiful meanings, you must have pure, clear eyes, and an humble, loving heart; otherwise you will complain, as some do, that it is dim and puzzling; or, as others that it is dull and monotonous. May you continue to read in it with new curiosity, new delight, and new profit; and to find it, as long as you live, the untiring “Story without an End.” Your affectionate mother, S. A. CHAPTER I.