court, and attempt to lead a simple and natural life, in which the interests of the people shall be paramount in his attention. But in this attempt he is thwarted at every step. All the forces of selfishness and prejudice and ignorance combine against him; even the people whom he seeks to benefit are so wedded to their idols that their attitude is one of suspicion rather than of sympathy. He loves a young woman of strong and noble character, and wins her love in return, but she dies on the very eve of their union. His oldest and most confidential friend, the wealthiest man in the kingdom, but a republican, is murdered by a radical associate of the intransigeant type, and the king is left utterly bereaved by his twofold loss. This brings us to the closing scene of the drama, in which the king, his nerves strained to the breaking point, confronts the group of officials and others who bring to him the empty phrases of a conventional condolence:—

The King. Hush! Have a little respect for the truth that should follow death! Understand me rightly: I do not mean that any of you would lie. But the very air about a king is infected. It was of that-a word or two. My time is short. But a testament. ...

The Priest. Testament.

The King. Neither the Old nor the New! Greet what is called Christianity here in this land-greet it from me! I have thought much about Christian folk of late.

The Priest. That rejoices me.

The King. How your tone cuts me! Greet it from me, what is called Christianity here in this land. Nay, do not crane your necks and bend your backs as if the wisdom of the ages were now forthcoming. (aside) Can there be any use in saying something seriously? (aloud) You are Christians?

The General. God forbid the doubt! Faith is exceedingly useful. ...

The King. For discipline. (to the Sheriff) And you?

The Sheriff. From my blessed ancestors I received the faith.

The King. So they are blessed also. Why not?'

The Sheriff. They brought me strictly up to fear God, to honor the king.

The King. And love your fellowmen. You are a State individual, sheriff. And such are Christians nowadays. (to the Merchant) And you?

The Merchant. I have not been able to go to church very much of late because of my cough. And in the foul air. ...

The King. You go to sleep. But are you a Christian?

The. Merchant. That goes without saying.

The King. (to the Priest.) And you are naturally one?

The Priest. By the grace of Jesus I hope that I am.

The King. That is the formula, boys, that is the accepted thing to say. Therefore, you are a Christian community, and it is no fault of mine if such a community will not deal seriously with what concerns Christianity. Greet it from me, and say that it must have an eye to the institution of monarchy.

The Priest. Christianity has nothing to do with such matters. It searches the inner man.

The King. That tone! I know it—it does not search the air in which the patient lives, but the lungs. There you have it! Nevertheless, Christianity must have an eye to the monarchy—must pluck the lie from it—must not follow it to its coronation in the church, as an ape follows a peacock. I know what I felt in that situation. I had gone through with a rehearsal the day before—ho, ho! Ask the Christianity in this land, if it be not time to concern itself with the monarchy. It should hardly any longer, it seems to me, let the monarchy play the part of the seductive wanton who turns the thoughts of all citizens to war—which is much against the message of Christianity—and to class distinctions, to luxury, to show and vanity. The monarchy is now so great a lie that it compels the most upright man to share in its falsehood."

The conversation that follows is in a vein of bitterness on the one side, and of obtuse smugness on the other; the tragic irony of the action grows deeper and deeper, until in the end the king, completely disheartened and despairing, goes into an adjoining room, and dies by his own hand, to the consternation of the men from whom he has just parted. They give utterance to a few polite phrases, charitably accounting for the deed by the easy attribution of insanity to the king, and the curtain falls.

It may well be imagined that "The King" made a stir in literary and social circles, and quite noticeably fluttered the dovecotes of conventionality and conservatism. Such plain speaking and such deadly earnestness of conviction were indeed far removed from the idyllic simplicity of the peasant tales and from the poetical reconstructions of the legendary past. Eight years later, Björnson prefaced a new edition of this work with a series of reflections upon "Intellectual Freedom" that constitute one of the most vigorous and remarkable examples of his serious prose. The central ideas of his political faith are embodied in the following sentences from this preface:—

"Intellectual Freedom. Why is not attention called over and over again to the fact that for the great peoples, who have so many compensating interests, the free commerce of ideas is one condition of life among many others; while for us, the small peoples, it is absolutely indispensable. A people numerically large may attain to ways of thought and enterprise that no political censure can reduce to a minimum; but under narrower conditions it may easily come about that the whole people will fall asleep. A powerful propaganda of enlightenment under the conditions of free speech is for us of the first and the last importance. When I wrote this piece it was my chief aim to enlarge the bounds of free thought. I have later made the same attempt in matters of religion and morals. When my opponents seek to sum up my character in a few words, they are apt to say: 'He attacks the throne and the altar.' It seems to me that I have served the freedom of the spirit, and in the interests of that cause I now beg leave to reply. (1) Concerning the attack on Christianity. It may be worth while in a country with a state church to recall now and then the meaning of Christianity. It is not an institution, still less a book, and least of all it is a house or a seminary. It is the godly life according to the precepts and example of Jesus. There may be men who think they are attacking Christianity when they investigate the historical origin or the morality of some dogma; I do not think so. Honest investigation can result only in growth. Christianity, with or without its whole apparatus of dogma, will endure in its essence for thousands of years after us; there will always be spiritually-minded people who will be ennobled by it, and some made great. I honor all the noble. I have friends among the Christians, whom I love, and never for a moment have I thought of attacking their Christianity. I have no higher wish than to see them by its help transform certain aspects of our society into seriousness. (2) Concerning the attack on monarchy. Monarchy is, on the other hand, an institution, here the circumstances are naturally different. I have attacked monarchy, and I will attack it. But—and to this 'but' I call the closest attention. Shortly before the July Revolution, when its first signs were declared, Chateaubriand was talking with the King, who asked what it all meant. 'It is monarchy that is done with,' replied the royalist, for he was also a seer. Certainly there have been in France both kingdom and empire since that day. If there should be no more hereafter, they still exist in other lands, and will endure for generations after us. But 'done with' are they none the less; notice was given them by the French Revolution. It does not concern them all simultaneously; it fixes terms, different for the different kingdoms, and far removed for the kingdoms based upon conquest. But the face of civilization is now turned toward the republic, and every people has reached the first, second, or third stage of the way. "If a work of the mind is born of Norse conditions and stands