CHAPTER VIII

by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

　　DEAR PARENTS,—

　　We have to study much more now than at first, butas I am less behind the others than I was, it is not so hard. I shallchange many things in father's place when I come home; for there ismuch that is wrong there, and it is wonderful that it has prospered aswell as it has. But I shall make everything right, for I have learneda great deal. I want to go to some place where I can put into practiceall I now know, and so I must look for a high position when I getthrough here.

　　No one here considers Jon Hatlen as clever as he is thought to beat home with us; but as he has a gard of his own, this does not concernany one but himself.

　　Many who go from here get very high salaries, but they are paid sowell because ours is the best agricultural school in the country. Somesay the one in the next district is better, but this is by no meanstrue. There are two words here: one is called Theory, the otherPractice. It is well to have them both, for one is nothing without theother; but still the latter is the better. Now the former means, tounderstand the cause and principle of a work; the latter, to be able toperform it: as, for instance, in regard to a quagmire; for there aremany who know what should be done with a quagmire and yet do it wrong,because they are not able to put their knowledge into practice. Many,on the other hand, are skillful in doing, but do not know what ought tobe done; and thus they too may make bad work of it, for there are manykinds of quagmires. But we at the agricultural school learn bothwords. The superintendent is so skillful that he has no equal. At thelast agricultural meeting for the whole country, he led in twodiscussions, and the other superintendents had only one each, and uponcareful consideration his statements were always sustained. At themeeting before the last, where he was not present, there was nothingbut idle talk. The lieutenant who teaches surveying was chosen by thesuperintendent only on account of his ability, for the other schoolshave no lieutenant. He is so clever that he was the best scholar atthe military academy.

　　The school-master asks if I go to church. Yes, of course I go tochurch, for now the priest has an assistant, and his sermons fill allthe congregation with terror, and it is a pleasure to listen to him.He belongs to the new religion they have in Christiania, and peoplethink him too strict, but it is good for them that he is so.

　　Just now we are studying much history, which we have not donebefore, and it is curious to observe all that has happened in theworld, but especially in our country, for we have always won, exceptwhen we have lost, and then we always had the smaller number. We nowhave liberty; and no other nation has so much of it as we, exceptAmerica; but there they are not happy. Our freedom should be loved byus above everything.

　　Now I will close for this time, for I have written a very longletter. The school-master will read it, I suppose, and when he answersfor you, get him to tell me some news about one thing or another, forhe never does so of himself. But now accept hearty greetings from youraffectionate son,

　　O. THORESEN.

　　DEAR PARENTS,—

　　Now I must tell you that we have had examinations,and that I stood 'excellent' in many things, and 'very good' in writingand surveying, but 'good' in Norwegian composition. This comes, thesuperintendent says, from my not having read enough, and he has made mea present of some of Ole Vig's books, which are matchless, for Iunderstand everything in them. The superintendent is very kind to me,and he tells us many things. Everything here is very inferior comparedwith what they have abroad; we understand almost nothing, but learneverything from the Scotch and Swiss, although horticulture we learnfrom the Dutch. Many visit these countries. In Sweden, too, they aremuch more clever than we, and there the superintendent himself hasbeen. I have been here now nearly a year, and I thought that I hadlearned a great deal; but when I heard what those who passed theexamination knew, and considered that they would not amount to anythingeither when they came into contact with foreigners, I became verydespondent. And then the soil here in Norway is so poor compared withwhat it is abroad; it does not at all repay us for what we do with it.Moreover, people will not learn from the experience of others; and evenif they would, and if the soil was much better, they really have notthe money to cultivate it. It is remarkable that things have prosperedas well as they have.

　　I am now in the highest class, and am to remain there a yearbefore I get through. But most of my companions have left and I longfor home. I feel alone, although I am not so by any means, but one hassuch a strange feeling when one has been long absent. I once thought Ishould become so much of a scholar here; but I am not making theprogress I anticipated.

　　What shall I do with myself when I leave here? First, of course,I will come home; afterwards, I suppose, I will have to seek somethingto do, but it must not be far away.

　　Farewell, now, dear parents! Give greetings to all who inquirefor me, and tell them that I have everything pleasant here but that nowI long to be at home again.

　　Your affectionate son,

　　OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN.

　　DEAR SCHOOL-MASTER,—

　　With this I ask if you will deliver the inclosed

　　letter and not speak of it to any one. And if you will not, then you

　　must burn it.

　　OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN.

　　TO THE MOST HONORED MAIDEN, MARIT KNUDSDATTER NORDISTUEN AT THE UPPER

　　HEIDEGARDS:—

　　You will no doubt be much surprised at receiving a letter from me;

　　but you need not be for I only wish to ask how you are. You must send

　　me a few words as soon as possible, giving me all particulars.

　　Regarding myself, I have to say that I shall be through here in a year.

　　Most respectfully,

　　OYVIND PLADSEN.

　　TO OYVIND PLADSEN, AT THE AGRICULTURAL SCHOOL:—

　　Your letter was duly received by me from the school-master, and Iwill answer since you request it. But I am afraid to do so, now thatyou are so learned; and I have a letter-writer, but it does not helpme. So I will have to try what I can do, and you must take the willfor the deed; but do not show this, for if you do you are not the one Ithink you are. Nor must you keep it, for then some one might see it,but you must burn it, and this you will have to promise me to do.There were so many things I wanted to write about, but I do not quitedare. We have had a good harvest; potatoes bring a high price, andhere at the Heidegards we have plenty of them. But the bear has donemuch mischief among the cattle this summer: he killed two of OleNedregard's cattle and injured one belonging to our houseman so badlythat it had to be killed for beef. I am weaving a large piece ofcloth, something like a Scotch plaid, and it is difficult. And now Iwill tell you that I am still at home, and that there are those whowould like to have it otherwise. Now I have no more to write about forthis time, and so I must bid you farewell.

　　MARIT KNUDSDATTER.

　　P.S.—Be sure and burn this letter.

　　TO THE AGRICULTURIST, OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN:—

　　As I have told you before, Oyvind, he who walks with God has comeinto the good inheritance. But now you must listen to my advice, andthat is not to take the world with yearning and tribulation, but totrust in God and not allow your heart to consume you, for if you do youwill have another god besides Him. Next I must inform you that yourfather and your mother are well, but I am troubled with one of my hips;for now the war breaks out afresh with all that was suffered in it.What youth sows age must reap; and this is true both in regard to themind and the body, which now throbs and pains, and tempts one to makeany number of lamentations. But old age should not complain; forwisdom flows from wounds, and pain preaches patience, that man may growstrong enough for the last journey. To-day I have taken up my pen formany reasons, and first and above all for the sake of Marit, who hasbecome a God-fearing maiden, but who is as light of foot as a reindeer,and of rather a fickle disposition. She would be glad to abide by onething, but is prevented from so doing by her nature; but I have oftenbefore seen that with hearts of such weak stuff the Lord is indulgentand long-suffering, and does not allow them to be tempted beyond theirstrength, lest they break to pieces, for she is very fragile. I dulygave her your letter, and she hid it from all save her own heart. IfGod will lend His aid in this matter, I have nothing against it, forMarit is most charming to young men, as plainly can be seen, and shehas abundance of earthly goods, and the heavenly ones she has too, withall her fickleness. For the fear of God in her mind is like water in ashallow pond: it is there when it rains, but it is gone when the sunshines.

　　My eyes can endure no more at present, for they see well at adistance, but pain me and fill with tears when I look at small objects.In conclusion, I will advise you, Oyvind, to have your God with you inall your desires and undertakings, for it is written: "Better is anhandful with quietness, than both the hands full with travail andvexation of spirit." Ecclesiastes, iv. 6. Your old school-master,

　　BAARD ANDERSEN OPDAL.

　　TO THE MOST HONORED MAIDEN, MARIT KNUDSDATTER HEIDEGARDS:—

　　You have my thanks for your letter, which I have read and burned,as you requested. You write of many things, but not at all concerningthat of which I wanted you to write. Nor do I dare write anythingdefinite before I know how you are in every respect. Theschool-master's letter says nothing that one can depend on, but hepraises you and he says you are fickle. That, indeed, you were before.Now I do not know what to think, and so you must write, for it will notbe well with me until you do. Just now I remember best about yourcoming to the cliff that last evening and what you said then. I willsay no more this time, and so farewell.

　　Most respectfully,

　　OYVIND PLADSEN.

　　TO OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN:—

　　The school-master has given me another letter from you, and I havejust read it, but I do not understand it in the least, and that, I daresay, is because I am not learned. You want to know how it is with mein every respect; and I am healthy and well, and there is nothing atall the matter with me. I eat heartily, especially when I get milkporridge. I sleep at night, and occasionally in the day-time too. Ihave danced a great deal this winter, for there have been many partieshere, and that has been very pleasant. I go to church when the snow isnot too deep; but we have had a great deal of snow this winter. Now, Ipresume, you know everything, and if you do not, I can think of nothingbetter than for you to write to me once more.

　　MARIT KNUDSDATTER.

　　TO THE MOST HONORED MAIDEN, MARIT KNUDSDATTER HEIDEGARDS:—

　　I have received your letter, but you seem inclined to leave me nowiser than I was before. Perhaps this may be meant for an answer. Ido not know. I dare not write anything that I wish to write, for I donot know you. But possibly you do not know me either.

　　You must not think that I am any longer the soft cheese yousqueezed the water away from when I sat watching you dance. I havelaid on many shelves to dry since that time. Neither am I like thoselong-haired dogs who drop their ears at the least provocation and takeflight from people, as in former days. I can stand fire now.

　　Your letter was very playful, but it jested where it should nothave jested at all, for you understood me very well, and you could seethat I did not ask in sport, but because of late I can think of nothingelse than the subject I questioned you about. I was waiting in deepanxiety, and there came to me only foolery and laughter.

　　Farewell, Marit Heidegards, I shall not look at you too much, as Idid at that dance. May you both eat well, and sleep well, and get yournew web finished, and above all, may you be able to shovel away thesnow which lies in front of the church-door.

　　Most respectfully,

　　OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN.

　　TO THE AGRICULTURIST, OYVIND THORESEN, AT THE AGRICULTURAL SCHOOL:—

　　Notwithstanding my advanced years, and the weakness of my eyes,and the pain in my right hip, I must yield to the importunity of theyoung, for we old people are needed by them when they have caughtthemselves in some snare. They entice us and weep until they are setfree, but then at once run away from us again, and will take no furtheradvice.

　　Now it is Marit; she coaxes me with many sweet words to write atthe same time she does, for she takes comfort in not writing alone. Ihave read your letter; she thought that she had Jon Hatlen or someother fool to deal with, and not one whom school-master Baard hadtrained; but now she is in a dilemma. However, you have been toosevere, for there are certain women who take to jesting in order toavoid weeping, and who make no difference between the two. But itpleases me to have you take serious things seriously, for otherwise youcould not laugh at nonsense.

　　Concerning the feelings of both, it is now apparent from manythings that you are bent on having each other. About Marit I haveoften been in doubt, for she is like the wind's course; but I have nowlearned that notwithstanding this she has resisted Jon Hatlen'sadvances, at which her grandfather's wrath is sorely kindled. She washappy when your offer came, and if she jested it was from joy, not fromany harm. She has endured much, and has done so in order to wait forhim on whom her mind was fixed. And now you will not have her, butcast her away as you would a naughty child.

　　This was what I wanted to tell you. And this counsel I must add,that you should come to an understanding with her, for you can findenough else to be at variance with. I am like the old man who haslived through three generations; I have seen folly and its course.

　　Your mother and father send love by me. They are expecting youhome; but I would not write of this before, lest you should becomehomesick. You do not know your father; he is like a tree which makesno moan until it is hewn down. But if ever any mischance should befallyou, then you will learn to know him, and you will wonder at therichness of his nature. He has had heavy burdens to bear, and issilent in worldly matters; but your mother has relieved his mind fromearthly anxiety, and now daylight is beginning to break through thegloom.

　　Now my eyes grow dim, my hand refuses to do more. Therefore Icommend you to Him whose eye ever watches, and whose hand is neverweary.

　　BAARD ANDERSEN OPDAL.

　　TO OYVIND PLADSEN:—

　　You seem to be displeased with me, and this greatly grieves me.For I did not mean to make you angry. I meant well. I know I haveoften failed to do rightly by you, and that is why I write to you now;but you must not show the letter to any one. Once I had everythingjust as I desired, and then I was not kind; but now there is no one whocares for me, and I am very wretched. Jon Hatlen has made a lampoonabout me, and all the boys sing it, and I no longer dare go to thedances. Both the old people know about it, and I have to listen tomany harsh words. Now I am sitting alone writing, and you must notshow my letter.

　　You have learned much and are able to advise me, but you are nowfar away. I have often been down to see your parents, and have talkedwith your mother, and we have become good friends; but I did not liketo say anything about it, for you wrote so strangely. Theschool-master only makes fun of me, and he knows nothing about thelampoon, for no one in the parish would presume to sing such a thing tohim. I stand alone now, and have no one to speak with. I rememberwhen we were children, and you were so kind to me; and I always sat onyour sled, and I could wish that I were a child again.

　　I cannot ask you to answer me, for I dare not do so. But if youwill answer just once more I will never forget it in you, Oyvind.

　　MARIT KNUDSDATTER.

　　Please burn this letter; I scarcely know whether I dare send it.

　　DEAR MARIT,—

　　Thank you for your letter; you wrote it in a lucky hour.I will tell you now, Marit, that I love you so much that I can scarcelywait here any longer; and if you love me as truly in return all thelampoons of Jon and harsh words of others shall be like leaves whichgrow too plentifully on the tree. Since I received your letter I feellike a new being, for double my former strength has come to me, and Ifear no one in the whole world. After I had sent my last letter Iregretted it so that I almost became ill. And now you shall hear whatthe result of this was. The superintendent took me aside and askedwhat was the matter with me; he fancied I was studying too hard. Thenhe told me that when my year was out I might remain here one more,without expense. I could help him with sundry things, and he wouldteach me more. Then I thought that work was the only thing I had torely on, and I thanked him very much; and I do not yet repent it,although now I long for you, for the longer I stay here the betterright I shall have to ask for you one day. How happy I am now! I worklike three people, and never will I be behind-hand in any work! Butyou must have a book that I am reading, for there is much in it aboutlove. I read in it in the evening when the others are sleeping, andthen I read your letter over again. Have you thought about ourmeeting? I think of it so often, and you, too, must try and find outhow delightful it will be. I am truly happy that I have toiled andstudied so much, although it was hard before; for now I can say what Iplease to you, and smile over it in my heart.

　　I shall give you many books to read, that you may see how muchtribulation they have borne who have truly loved each other, and thatthey would rather die of grief than forsake each other. And that iswhat we would do, and do it with the greatest joy. True, it will benearly two years before we see each other, and still longer before weget each other; but with every day that passes there is one day less towait; we must think of this while we are working.

　　My next letter shall be about many things; but this evening I haveno more paper, and the others are asleep. Now I will go to bed andthink of you, and I will do so until I fall asleep.

　　Your friend, OYVIND PLADSEN.