eriously, and he
compelled the public to take him seriously. The tendency which had only
flashed forth here and there in the "novelettes" now revealed its
whole countenance. The author's theme was the life of the prosperous
bourgeoisie in the western coast-towns; he drew their types with a hand
that gave evidence of intimate knowledge. He had himself sprung from
one of these rich ship-owning, patrician families, had been given every
opportunity to study life both at home and abroad, and had accumulated
a fund of knowledge of the world, which he had allowed quietly to grow
before making literary drafts upon it. The same Gallic perspicacity
of style which had charmed in his first book was here in a heightened
degree; and there was, besides, the same underlying sympathy with
progress and what is called the ideas of the age. What mastery of
description, what rich and vigorous colors Kielland had at his disposal
was demonstrated in such scenes as the funeral of Consul Garman and the
burning of the ship. There was, moreover, a delightful autobiographical
note in the book, particularly in boyish experiences of Gabriel Garman.
Such things no man invents, however clever; such material no imagination
supplies, however fertile. Except Fritz Reuter's Stavenhagen, I know no
small town in fiction which is so vividly and completely individualized,
and populated with such living and credible characters. Take, for
instance, the two clergymen, Archdeacon Sparre and the Rev. Mr. Martens,
and it is not necessary to have lived in Norway in order to recognize
and enjoy the faithfulness and the artistic subtlety of these portraits.
If they have a dash of satire (which I will not undertake to deny), it
is such delicate and well-bred satire that no one, except the originals,
would think of taking offence. People are willing, for the sake of the
entertainment which it affords, to forgive a little quiet malice at
their neighbors' expense. The members of the provincial bureaucracy are
drawn with the same firm but delicate touch, and everything has that
beautiful air of reality which proves the world akin.

It was by no means a departure from his previous style and tendency
which Kielland signalized in his next novel, _Laboring People_ (1881).
He only emphasizes, as it were, the heavy, serious bass chords in the
composite theme which expresses his complex personality, and allows the
lighter treble notes to be momentarily drowned. Superficially speak