of a whole people." Even more fittingly might the phrase be applied
to Bjornson, for it would be difficult to find anywhere else in
modern literature a figure so completely and profoundly representative
of his race. In the frequently quoted words of Dr. Brandes, to speak
the name of Bjornson in any assembly of his countrymen is like
"hoisting the Norwegian flag." It has been maliciously added that
mention of his name is also like flaunting a red flag in the sight
of a considerable proportion of the assembly, for Bjornson has always
been a fighter as well as an artist, and it has been his self-imposed
mission to arouse his fellow countrymen from their mental sluggishness
no less than to give creative embodiment to their types of character
and their ideal aspirations. But whatever the opposition aroused by
his political and social radicalism, even his opponents have been
constrained to feel that he was the mouthpiece of their race as no
other Norwegian before him had been, and that he has voiced whatever
is deepest and most enduring in the Norwegian temper. Powerful as
has been his appeal to the intellect and conscience of the modern
world at large, it has always had a special note of admonition or
of cheer for his own people. With reference to the second of our
two themes, it is sufficient to say that, although the form of verse
was almost wholly abandoned by him during the latter half of his life,
the breath of poetry never ceased to exhale from his work, and the
lyric exuberance of his later prose still recalls to us the singer
of the sixties.

Few productions of modern literature have proved as epoch-
making as the modest little volume called "Synnove Solbakken,"
which appeared in the book shops of Christiania and Copenhagen
in 1857. It was a simple tale of peasant life, an idyl of the
love of a boy and a girl, but it was absolutely new in its