long as he could, although with growing exasperation, until the
rhapsodical author of _Creation_, transgressing all moderation, accused
those who held reasonable views in literature and politics of being
traitors. Then it became necessary to deal with this raw and local
parody of Victor Hugo. When, in the words of _The Cask of Amontillado_,
Wergeland "ventured upon insult," Welhaven "vowed he would be avenged."

Welhaven formed as complete a contrast to his antagonist as could be
imagined. He was of the class of Sully Prudhomme, of Matthew Arnold, of
Lowell, to name three of his younger contemporaries. In his nature all
was based upon equilibrium; his spirit, though full of graceful and
philosophical intuitions, was critical rather than creative. He wrote
little, and with difficulty, and in exquisite form. His life was as
blamelessly correct as his literary art was harmonious. Wergeland knew
nothing of the Danish tradition of his day, which he treated with
violent and bitter contempt. Welhaven, who had moved in the circle of
the friends of Rahbek, instinctively referred every literary problem to
the tribunal of Danish taste. He saw that with the enthusiasm with which
the poetry of Wergeland was received in Norway was connected a suspicion
of mental discipline, a growing worship of the peasant and a hatred and
scorn of Denmark, with all of which he had no sympathy. He thought the
time had come for better things; that the national temper ought to be
mollified with the improved economic situation of the country; that the
students, who were taking a more and more prominent place, ought to be
on the side of the angels. It was not unnatural that Welhaven should
look upon the corybantic music of Wergeland as the source and origin of
an evil of which it was really the symptom; he gathered his powers
together to crush it, and he published a thunderbolt of sonnets.

The English reader, familiar with the powerlessness of even the best