ieve that one resounding deed of
terror and self-immolation for the cause of the people will suffice to
overthrow the selfish existing order, and create for the toiling masses
a new heaven upon earth. No deeper tragedies have been conceived by
Bjoernson than these two, the tragedy of the saintlike Pastor Sang, who
believes that the miracle of his wife's restoration to health has at
last in very truth been wrought by his fervent prayer, and finds only
that the ardor of his faith and hers has brought death instead of life
to them both,--the tragedy of his son Elias, who dies like Samson with
his foes for an equally impossible faith, and by the very violence of
his fanaticism removes the goal of socialist endeavor farther than ever
into the dim future. Bjoernson has written nothing more profoundly
moving than these plays, with their twofold treatment of essentially
the same theme, nor has he written anything which offers a clearer
revelation of his own rich personality, with its unfailing poetic
vision, its deep tenderness, and its boundless love for all humankind.
The play, "Geography and Love," which came between the two just
described, is an amusing piece, in the vein of light and graceful
comedy, which satirizes the man with a hobby, showing how he
unconsciously comes to neglect his wife and family through absorption
in his work. The author was, in a way, taking genial aim at himself in
this piece, a fact which his son Bjorn, who played the principal part,
did not hesitate to emphasize. "Paul Lange and Tora Parsberg," the next
play, deals with the passions engendered by political controversy, and
made much unpleasant stir in Norwegian society because certain of the
characters and situations were unmistakeably taken from real life.
After these plays came "Laboremus" and "At Storhove," both concerned
with substantially the same theme, which is that of the malign
influence exerted by an evil-minded and reckless woman upon the lives
of others. From a different point of view, we may say that the subject
of these plays is the consecration of the home. This has always been a
favorite theme with Bjoernson, and he has no clearer title to our
gratitude than that which he has earned by his unfailing insistence
upon the sanctity of family life, its mutual confidences, and its
common joys. Completing the list, we have "Daglannet," another
domestic drama of simple structure, and "When the New Wine Blooms," a
study of modernity as