the proposition that the obligations of morality are equally binding
upon both sexes; a problem treated by Ibsen, after a somewhat different
fashion, in 'Gengangere' (Ghosts). This play has occasioned much heated
discussion, for its theme is of the widest interest, besides being
pivotal as regards Bjoernson's sociological views. 'Over AEvne' is a
curiously wrought and delicate treatment of religious mysticism,
fascinating to read, but not very definite in outcome. 'Kongen' is
probably the most remarkable, all things considered, of this series of
plays, and Bjoernson told me some years ago that he considered it the
most important of his works. Taking frankly for granted that monarchy,
whether absolute or constitutional, is an outworn institution, the play
discusses the question whether it may not be possible so to transform
the institution as to fit it for a prolongation of existence. The
interest centres about the character of a king who is profoundly
convinced that the principle he embodies is an anachronism or a lie, and
who seeks to do away with the whole structure of convention, and
ceremonial, and hypocrisy, that the centuries have built about the
throne and its occupants. But his dearest hopes are frustrated by the
forces of malice, and dull conservatism, and invincible stupidity; the
burden proves too heavy for him, the fight too unequal, and he takes his
own life in a moment of despair. The terrible satirical power of certain
scenes in this play would be difficult to match were our choice to range
through the whole literature of Revolt. Its production brought upon the
author a storm of furious denunciation. He had outraged both throne and
altar, and his sacrilegious hand had not spared things the most
sacrosanct. But a less passionate judgment, while still deprecating
something of the author's violence, will recognize the fact that the
core of the work is a noble idealism in both politics and religion, and
will justify the hot indignation with which the author assails the shams
that in modern society stifle the breath of free and generous souls.

During all these years of writing for the stage Bjoernson did not,
however, forget that he was also a novelist; and it is in fiction that
he has scored the greatest of his recent triumphs. But the world of
'Synnoeve' and 'Arne' is now far behind him. The transition from his
earlier to his later manner as a novelist is marked by two or three
stories delicate in conception