His name was a household word throughout Norway from the dunes of Christiansand to the bleak rocks of the North Cape, and so worthy was he of this universal respect that no breath of calumny had ever sullied the reputation of either the deputy or the professor.
But though he was a Norwegian to the core he was a hot-blooded man, with none of the traditional coldness and apathy of his compatriots; but much more prompt and resolute in his thoughts and acts than most Scandinavians, as was proved by the quickness of his movements, the ardor of his words, and the vivacity of his gestures.

Had he been born in France, one would have unhesitatingly pronounced him a Southerner.
Sylvius Hogg's fortune had never exceeded a fair competence, for he had not entered into politics for the purpose of making money.
Naturally unselfish, he never thought of himself, but continually of others; nor was he tormented by a thirst for fame.

To be a deputy was enough for him; he craved no further advancement.
Just at this time Sylvius Hogg was taking advantage of a three months' vacation to recuperate after a year of severe legislative toil.

He had left Christiania six weeks before, with the intention of traveling through the country about Drontheim, the Hardanger, the Telemark, and the districts of Kongsberg and Drammen.

He had long been anxious to visit these provinces of which he knew nothing; and his trip was consequently one of improvement and of pleasure.