9047 who assailed Christianity with all the powers of mockery and logic were declared the apostles of the three fundamental principles of Christianity,-the principles of charity, fraternity, and equality. Voltaire attacked all sacred institutions, devoting himself to écraser l'infâme. Montesquieu examined with no reverent spirit the laws of every species of established government. Rousseau went deeper still, and struck at the root of all society by a production as daring as it was well-timed, the 'Discours sur l'Inégalité.'

The gayety, frivolity, wit, and elegance of France, so charming to those who lived in the salons, formed as it were but the graceful vine which clustered over a volcano about to burst; or rather let me say it was the rouge which on a sallow, sunken cheek simulated the ruddy glow of health. Lying deep down in the heart of society there was profound seriousness: the sadness of misery, of want, of slavery clanking its chains, of free thought struggling for empire. This seriousness was about to find utterance. The most careless observer could not fail to perceive the heavy thunder-clouds which darkened the horizon of this sunny sky. The court and the salons were not France: they occupied the foremost place upon the stage, but another actor was about to appear, before whom they would shrink into insignificance; the actor was the People.

9048

JONAS LIE

(1833-)

ONAS LIE is one of three men who make up the literary triumvirate of Norway. Björnson, Ibsen, and Lie are the veteran writers of the present day who have given international importance to Norwegian belles-lettres. Lie lacks the heroic proportions of the other two; but his position in his own land is as secure as theirs, and his work deserves and receives critical foreign attention. Jonas Lauritz Idemil Lie (the family name is pronounced Lee) was born June 11th, 1833, at Eker, a small town in southern Norway. His father was a lawyer, who when Jonas was a lad moved in some official capacity to the wild northern seaport of Tromsö. This early presence of the sea may have given color and direction to Lie's subsequent literary work, in which coast life is so prominent a theme. This residence also gave him opportunity for an acquaintance with the primitive fishing districts. He entered the naval academy at Frederiksværn, but near-sightedness compelled him to stop. He was then sent to school at Christiania to fit for the university at Heftberg's Gymnasium, where he fell in with Björnson and Ibsen, forming friendships kept up in the case of the former through later years. At the university, Lie studied jurisprudence, and began to practice law at Kongsvinger; he prospered in his profession, and soon was socially prominent. But in the Norwegian financial crisis of the sixties he was ruined; and in 1868having hitherto done journalistic and literary work enough to test his talent- he went to Christiania, there to devote himself single-eyed to letters.

JONAS LIE

He had the usual young literary man's struggle at first; did a little teaching; and got on his feet by his first novel, The Visionary' (1870), which had immediate recognition. After the enlightened custom of the country, the Norwegian government sent him to the far north to study life, and later allowed him a stipend to travel abroad for the purpose of cultivating himself as a poet. His Tales and Sketches from Norway' (1872) was written mostly in Rome. The

two novels The Bark "Failure" and 'The Pilot and his Wife' (1874) are typical sea stories, in which Lie excels. This year he was granted the "poet's pension," the same official recognition received by Björnson and Ibsen. 'The Pilot and his Wife' is perhaps the best known of his novels; and from this time Lie has worked steadily to produce the score of volumes constituting his literary baggage and adding solidly to his reputation. In the main he has lived abroad, in different German cities and in Paris,-like Ibsen in this respect; but he spent the summer of 1893 in Norway, after an absence of twelve years, and this visit was signalized by festivities in Christiania and other cities.

Lie's Italian experience brought forth Frankfulla,' 'Antonio Banniera,' and 'Faustina Strozzi' (1875), minor works not calling out his native gift. Thomas Ross' (1878) and 'Adam Schrader' (1879) depict city life. In 'Rutland' (1881) and 'Press On' (1882) he returns to the sea for inspiration. The Slave For Life' (1883) is a strong story, ranking among the best of his maturest productions. The Family at Gilje' appeared the same year. 'A Malstrom' (1884), Eight Stories (1885), 'The Daughters of the Commodore,' a finely representative work (1886), Married Life' (1887), 'Evil Powers' (1890), Troll I. and II.' (1891-2: a group of marine horror tales), and 'Niobe' (1893), complete the list of fiction. A three-act comedy, Grabow's Cat' (1880), after rejection at Copenhagen, was successful at Christiania and Stockholm; and another comedy, 'Merry Women,' is of so recent date as 1894.

Lie's earlier works are marked by keen characterization, sympathy for the life described, truthful observation of traits external and internal, and a certain pathos and poetry of treatment which give his fiction charm. Of late years Lie, like his literary compeers Björnson and Ibsen, like so many distinguished writers in other lands, has moved pretty steadily towards realism and the unflinching presentment of unpalatable fact,-retaining, however, his sympathetic touch. A powerful but unpleasant story like 'The Slave For Life,' written more than a dozen years ago, is a significant work in denoting this change in Lie; the same is true of the following novel, The Family at Gilje,' although this study is relieved by humor. When the novelist writes of the sea which he knows so marvelously well, when he limns the simple provincial folk who live by the water or go forth upon it for their daily bread,—he is admirably true, and a master at home with his subject. Björnson said of Lie in a public address: "His friends know that he only needs to dip the net down into himself to bring up a full catch." To carry out the figure, the fattest catch with Lie is a sea catch. When writing in scenes the most remote from the marine atmosphere, he has caught the very spirit

of the ocean and its wayfarers. This is true of The Pilot and his Wife' (the English translation of which is entitled 'A Norse Love Story), from which a chapter is given. Penned in a small Italian mountain town, it is, as Edmund Gosse puts it, "one of the saltest stories ever published."

Lie has been much translated, and a number of his novels and short stories have appeared in English.

I

ELIZABETH'S CHOICE

From A Norse Love Story. Copyright 1876, by S. C. Griggs & Co.

IN THE evening, when the gentlemen were sitting in the grove alone, and Elizabeth came out with a fresh supply of hot water for their toddy, the chairman permitted himself to offer a joke which drove the blood up to her cheeks. She made no reply, but the mug trembled in her hands as she put it down, and at the same time she gave to the one concerned a glance so decidedly bitter and scornful that he for an instant felt himself corrected.

"By heavens, Beck!" he exclaimed, "did you see what eyes she fixed on me? they fairly lightened."

"Yes, she is a noble girl," replied Beck; who was enraged, but had his reason for being circumspect before his superior.

"Ah, a noble girl!" added the latter in an irritated tone, which made Carl feel that he meant she ought rather to be called an impudent servant.

"Yes, I mean a handsome girl," added Carl, evasively correcting himself with a forced laugh.

Elizabeth had heard it. She was wounded, and commenced in her own mind, for the first time, a comparison between the lieutenant and Salve. Salve would not have prevaricated thus if he had been in this one's stead.

When later in the evening he chanced upon her alone, as she was putting things in order on the steps after their departure, he said half anxiously:

"You did not really take that to heart, Elizabeth, from the old, coarse, blustering brute? He is really a brave and honest fellow, who does not mean anything by his talk."

Elizabeth was silent, and sought to leave him and go inside with what she had in her hands.

"Yes, but I cannot endure that you should be insulted, Elizabeth!" he broke out suddenly in wild passion, and tried to seize her arm: "this hand, with which you work, is dearer to me than all the fine ladies' together."

"Herr Beck!" she burst out wildly, with tears in her eyes, "I go my way this very night if I hear more!"

She disappeared in the hallway, but Beck followed.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, “I am in earnest!" She tore herself violently from him and went into the kitchen, where the sisters were standing talking by the fire.

Young Beck, in the beautiful starlit night, took a lonely walk into the interior of the island, and did not return until past midnight.

He had not meant it so decidedly in earnest; but now, since he had seen her before him, so wonderfully beautiful, with the tears in her eyes—now, yes, now he did mean it in sober earnest. He was ready to engage himself to her in spite of all considerations, if need be.

The next morning he went with his pleasure-boat to Arendal. He had however first, in passing, whispered to her:

"I am in earnest!"

These words, again repeated, entirely confused Elizabeth. She had lain and thought upon this same remark during the night, and resented it with indignation; for it could only signify that he ventured to declare to her that he was charmed with her, and she had already determined to carry out her threat to leave the house. But now, repeated-in that tone! Did he really mean to offer her his hand and heart—to become his, the officer's wife?

There lay before her fancy a glittering expanse of early dreams which almost intoxicated her. She was distracted and pale the entire week, and thought with dread of Sunday, when he should come again. What would he then say? And what should she answer?

He did not come, however, since a business trip had unexpectedly become necessary. On the contrary, Marie Fostberg came, and she felt that the girl's disposition in some way or other must have changed; for she evidently shunned every assistance from her, and in glances which Marie accidentally caught there was something hard and unfriendly. It affected her more closely than she herself would admit. Faithful as she was, she