xercises 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!

Neunhausen, May 1814. FOUQUE.

Some of the incidents of the wonderful story of "The Shadowless Man"
were suggested by actual experiences of its author; and it is
remarkable that in the latter part of the narrative Chamisso should
have anticipated his own voyage round the world.

Chamisso was often pestered with questions respecting what he really
meant by the story of Schlemihl. These questions amused as well as
annoyed him. The truth is, that his intention in writing it was perhaps
scarcely of so precise a nature as to admit of his giving a formal
account of it. The story sprang into being of itself, like every work
of genius, prompted by a self-creating power. In a letter which he
wrote to Trinius, Councillor at St. Petersburg in 1829, Chamisso says:
"When I write I rarely have anything in view; I am, if you like, a
nightingale, a singing bird, and not a reasoning man." And when he had
just commenced the book he wrote to Hitzig as follows: "A book was the
last thing you would have expected from me! Place it before your wife
this evening, if you have time; should she be desirous to know
Schlemihl's further adventures, and particularly who the man in the
grey cloak is--send me back the MS. immediately, that I may continue
the story; but if you do not return it, I shall know the meaning of the
signal perfectly." "One day," Chamisso further relates, "I had lost my
hat, portmanteau, gloves and all my luggage, and Fouque asked me
jestingly whether I had also lost my shadow. We then amused ourselves
imagining such a calamity. I conceived the idea of Peter Schlemihl, and
as I had leisure in the country I wrote the story."

In the preface to a French translation (which appeared in 1838) of this
story, Chamisso amuses himself over the prying curiosity of those who
want to know what was his real object in writing this tale:--"The
present story," he says, "has fallen into the hands of thoughtful
people, who, being accustomed to read only for instruction's sake, have
been at a loss to know what the shadow signifies. On this point several
have formed curious hypotheses; others, who do me the honour to believe
that I am more learned than I really am, have addressed them