and intellectual dependency of Denmark. For three hundred years she had
been governed more or less effectively from Copenhagen, and for two
hundred years Danish had supplanted Norwegian as the language of church
and state, of trade, and of higher social intercourse. The country had
no university; Norwegians were compelled to go to Copenhagen for their
degrees and there loaf about in the anterooms of ministers waiting for
preferment. Videnskabsselskabet was the first tangible evidence of
awakened national life, and we are not surprised to find that it was in
this circle that the demand for a separate Norwegian university was
first authoritatively presented. Again, a little group of periodicals
sprang up in which were discussed, learnedly and pedantically, to be
sure, but with keen intelligence, the questions that were interesting
the great world outside. It is dreary business ploughing through these
solemn, badly printed octavos and quartos. Of a sudden, however, one
comes upon the first, and for thirty-six years the only Norwegian
translation of Shakespeare.

We find it in _Trondhjems Allehaande_ for October 23, 1782--the third
and last volume. The translator has hit upon Antony's funeral oration
and introduces it with a short note:[1] "The following is taken from
the famous English play _Julius Caesar_ and may be regarded as a
masterpiece. When Julius Caesar was killed, Antonius secured permission
from Brutus and the other conspirators to speak at his funeral. The
people, whose minds were full of the prosperity to come, were satisfied
with Caesar's murder and regarded the murderers as benefactors. Antonius
spoke so as to turn their minds from rejoicing to regret at a great
man's untimely death and so as to justify himself and win the hearts of
the populace. And in what a masterly way Antonius won them! We shall
render, along with the oration, the interjected remarks of the crowd,
inasmuch as they too are evidences of Shakespeare's understanding of