these stories
were charming to the mind of Moe, who was fortunately joined by a
stronger though less delicate spirit in the person of Peter Christian
Asbjoernsen. Their earliest collection of folk-lore in collaboration
appeared in 1841, but it was the full edition of 1856 which produced a
national sensation, and doubtless awakened Ibsen in Bergen. Meanwhile,
in 1853, M. B. Landstad had published the earliest of his collections
of the folkeviser, or national songs, while L. M. Lindeman in the same
years (1853-59) was publishing, in installments, the peasant melodies of
Norway. Moreover, Ibsen, who read no Icelandic, was studying the ancient
sagas in the faithful and vigorous paraphrase of Petersen, and all
combined to determine him to make an experiment in a purely national and
archaistic direction.

Ibsen, whose practice is always better than his theory, has given rather
a confused account of the circumstances that led to the composition
of his next play, _The Vikings at Helgeland_. But it is clear that in
looking through Petersen for a subject which would display, in broad and
primitive forms, the clash of character in an ancient Norwegian family,
he fell upon "Volsungasaga," and somewhat rashly responded to its
vigorous appeal. He thought that in this particular episode, "the
titanic conditions and occurrences of the 'Nibelungenlied'" and other
pro-mediaeval legends had "been reduced to human dimensions." He
believed that to dramatize such a story would lift what he called "our
national epic material" to a higher plane. There is one phrase in his
essay which is very interesting, in the light it throws upon the object
which the author had before him in writing _The Vikings at Helgeland_.
He says clearly--and this was intended as a revolt against the tradition
of Oehlenschlaeger--"it was not my aim to present our mythic world, but
simply our life in primitive times." Brandes says of this departure that
it is "indeed a new conquest, but, like so many conquests, associated
with very extensive plundering."

In turning to an examination of _The Vikings_, the first point which
demands notice is that Ibsen has gained a surprising mastery over the
arts of theatrical writing since we met with him last. There is nothing
of the lyrical triviality of the verse in _The Feast at Solhoug_ about
the trenchant prose of _The Vikings_, and the crepuscular dimness
of _Lady Inger_ is exchanged for a perfect lucidity and directness.
What