in her heart; a serpent raged in her bosom. Driven by a nameless
agonised disquiet, she hastened forth into the free air, and ascended,
almost without being aware of it herself, the steep footpath up the
mountain, where many a time, in calmer moments, she had admired the
beautiful prospect.
Great and beautiful scenes had, during the foregoing conversation,
arisen before her view;--she felt herself so little, so poor beside
them. Ah! she could not once speak of the great and beautiful, for her
tongue was bound. She felt so warmly, and yet could warm no one! The
happy Alette won without trouble, perhaps even without much valuing it,
a regard, an approval, which Susanna would have purchased with her life.
The Barbra-spirit boiled up in her, and with a reproachful glance to
heaven she exclaimed, "Shall I then, for my whole life remain nothing
but a poor despised maid-servant!"
The heaven looked clown on the young maiden mildly, but smilingly; soft
rain-drops sprinkled her forehead; and all nature around her stood
silent, and, as it were, in sorrow. This sorrowing calm operated on
Susanna like the tenderly accusing glance of a good mother. She looked
down into her heart, and saw there envy and pride, and she shuddered at
herself. She gazed down into the stream which waved beneath her feet,
and she thought with longing, "Oh, that one could but plunge down, deep,
deep into these waves, and then arise purified--improved!"
But already this wish had operated like a purifying baptism on Susanna's
soul; and she felt fresh and light thoughts ascend within her. "A poor
maid-servant!" repeated now Sanna; "and why should that be so
contemptible a lot? The Highest himself has served on earth; served for
all, for the very least; yes, even for me. Oh!--" and it became
continually lighter and warmer in her mind.--"I will be a true
maid-servant, and place my honour in it, and desire to be nothing else!
Charm I cannot; beauty and genius, and beautiful talents, I have not;
but--I can love and I can serve, and that will I do with my whole heart,
and with all my strength, and in all humility; and if men despise me,
yet God will not forsake the poor and faithful maid-servant!"
When Susanna again cast her tearful eyes on the ground, they fell on a
little piece of moss, one of those very least children of nature, which
in silence and unheeded pass through the metamorphoses of their quiet
life. The little plant stood in fresh green, on its head hung the clear
rain-drops, and the sun which now shone through the clouds, glittered in
them.
Susanna contemplated the little moss, and it seemed to say to her: "See
thou! though I am so insignificant, yet I enjoy the dew of heaven and
the beams of the sun, as fully as the roses and the lilacs of the
garden!" Susanna understood the speech of the little plant, and grateful
and calmed, she repeated many times to herself, with a species of silent
gladness--"a humble, a faithful maid-servant!"
When Susanna came home, she found Mrs. Astrid not well. She had been
much excited, and on such occasions an attack of the spasms was always
to be apprehended. Susanna begged earnestly, and received the permission
to watch by her to-night; at least, till Mrs. Astrid slept. Mrs. Astrid
had, indeed, another maid with her, but she was old and very deaf, and
Susanna had no confidence in her.
Mrs. Astrid retired to rest. Susanna seated herself on a stool by the
window, silently occupied with her thoughts, and with knitting a
stocking. The window had stood open during the day, and a host of flies
had entered the room. Mrs. Astrid was much disturbed by them, and
complained that they prevented her sleeping. Quietly Susanna laid bare
her white shoulders, neck, and arms, and when the flies in swarms darted
down upon her, and her mistress now left at peace slept calmly, Susanna
sate still, let the flies enjoy themselves, and enjoyed herself thereby
more than one can believe.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Probably Newfoundland.
[9] Probably spotted maple.
[10] Upper Canada.
[11] Snails or cockles, as they called their light craft.
[12] I have not wished to attempt a translation of these verses,
convinced that for the Swedish reader it is not necessary; and why
unnecessarily brush off the golden dust from the butterfly's
wings.--_Fredrika Bremer_.
As, however, the _English reader_ may find it _rather_ more necessary to
give a translation of the Norwegian verses, I have made it, and that as
much in the simplicity of the original as I could.--M. H.
RETREATING AND ADVANCING.
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits
itself most significantly in little things. Those which we in
general call so, are not by any means so little.
J. C. LOUS.
It is with our faults as with horseradish; it is terribly difficult to
extirpate it from the earth in which it has once taken root; and nothing
is more discouraging to the cultivator who will annihilate this weed
from his ground, than to see it, so lately plucked up, shooting forth
again freshly to the light from roots which remained buried in the
earth. One can get quite out of patience; with the weedy soil, and one
is, when this soil is one's own dear self, possessed by the most cordial
desire to set off far, far from one's self. But how!!!
Susanna was often conscious of this feeling, as she daily laboured to
repress the excitements which arose up within her at this time. Still
the thoughts and resolutions which awoke within her on the evening just
described, had taken hold upon her too strongly for them to be again
effaced, and with the motto--"a humble and regular servant-girl," she
struggled boldly through the dangers and the events of the day. Her
demeanour was calmer; she quietly withdrew herself from taking part in
conversation which went beyond her education; in a friendly spirit, she
endeavoured to renounce the attentions and interest of others, and
busied herself only in attending to the comforts and pleasures of all,
as well as in accomplishing, and when possible, anticipating every wish.
And such an activity has, more than people imagine, an influence upon
the well-being of every-day life. The affectionate will lends even to
dead things soul and life. But heavy to the ministering spirits is this
life of labour and care for others, where no sunbeam of love, no cordial
acknowledgment, falls upon their laborious day.
In the beginning of August, Harald set off, to return in about fourteen
days with Alf Lexow, the betrothed of Alette. During his absence, Alette
was to pay a visit to her uncle in Hallingdal; but, according to Mrs.
Astrid's wish, she yet spent another week at Semb. During these days,
Alette and Susanna became better friends, for Alette was touched
involuntarily by Susanna's unwearied and unpretending attentions, and
besides this, she found in her such a frank mind and such cordial
sympathy, that she could not deny herself the pleasure of communicating
much of that which lived in the heart of the happy bride. Happy,--indeed
Alette was, for long and warmly had she loved Alf Lexow, and should
shortly be united to him for ever; and yet often stole a melancholy
expression over her charming surface, when the conversation turned to
this marriage and to her removal into Nordland. Susanna asked her
several times of the cause of this, and as often Alette jestingly evaded
the question; but one evening when they had chatted together more
friendly than common, Alette said--
"It is a strange feeling to get everything ready for one's own marriage
in the belief that one shall not long survive it! This removal to
Nordland will be my death, that I know certainly. No, do not look so
terrified! It is in no case so dangerous. And thoughts of an early
death I have long borne in my mind, and therefore I am accustomed to
them."
"Ah!" said Susanna, "those who love and are loved, the happy, should
never die! But why this strange foreboding?"
"I do not know myself!" replied Alette, "but it has accompanied me from
my earliest youth. My mother was born under the beautiful heaven of
Provence, and passed the greater part of her youth in that warm country.
The love of my father made her love in our Norway a second country, and
here she spent the remainder of her life; she never, however, could
rightly bear this cold climate, longed secretly for that warmer land,
and died with the longing. To me has she bequeathed this feeling; and
although I have never seen those orange groves, that warm blue heaven,
of which she so gladly spoke, I drew in from childhood a love to them; I
have, besides, inherited my mother's suffering from cold;--my chest is
not strong, ah!--the long, dark winters of Nordland; the residence on
the sea-shore in a climate which is twice as cold as that to which I
have been accustomed, the sea-mists and storms--ah! I cannot long
withstand them. But Susanna, you must promise me not to say one word of
what I have confided to you, either to Harald or to Lexow!"
"But if they know it," said Susanna, "then you certainly need not go
there. Certainly your bridegroom would for your sake seek out a milder
country----"
"And not feel at home there, and die of longing for his dear Nordland!
No, no, Susanna! I know his love for his native land, and know that this
winterly nature which I dread so much, is precisely his life and his
health. Alf is a Nordlander in heart and soul, and has, as it were,
grown up with the district which his fathers inhabited, and whose
advance and prosperity is his favourite scheme, the principal object of
his activity. No, no! for my sake he shall not tear himself from his
home, his noble efforts. Rather would I, if it must be so, find an early
grave in his Nordland!"
Susanna now desired to know, and Alette communicated to her, various
particulars of the country which was she thought so terrible, and we
will now, with the young friends, cast--
A GLANCE INTO NORDLAND.
All is cold and hard.
BLOM.
The spirit of God yet rests upon Nordland.
Z.
A great part of Norway has, as it were, its face turned away from life.
"The Old Night," which the ancient world considered to be the original
mother of all things, here held the giant child in her dark bosom, and
bound it tight in swaddling bands, out of which it could not shape
itself to joy and freedom. Neither Nordland nor Finmark see the sun for
many months in the year, and the difficulties and dangers of the road
shut them out from intercourse with the southern world. The spirit of
the North Pole rests oppressively over this region, and when in still
August nights it breathes from hence over southern Norway, then withers
the half-ripened harvests of the valleys and the plains, and the
icy-grey face of hunger stares stiffly from the northern cliffs upon
laborious but unhappy human multitudes. The sea breaks upon this coast
against a palisadoed fence of rocks and cliffs, around which swarm
flocks of polar birds with cries and screams. Storms alternate with
thick mists. The cliffs along this coast have extraordinary shapes; now
ascend they upwards like towers, now resemble beasts, now present
gigantic and terrific human profiles; and one can easily imagine how the
popular belief sees in them monsters and giants turned to stone, and why
their ancestors laid their Jotunhem in this desolate wilderness.
And a dark fragment of Paganism still lingers about this region even to
this day. It is frozen fast into the people's imagination; it is turned
to stone in the horrible shapes of nature, which once gave it life. The
light of the Gospel endeavours in vain to dissipate the shadows of a
thousand years; the Old Night holds them back. In vain the Holy Cross is
raised upon all the cliffs; the belief in magic and magic arts lives
still universally among the people. Witches sit, full of malice, in
their caves, and blow up storms for the sea-wanderers, so that they must
be unfortunate; and the ghost Stallo, a huge man, dressed in black, with
a staff in his hand, wanders about in the wildernesses, and challenges
the solitary traveller to meet him in the contest for life and death.
The Laplander, the nomade of the North, roving free with his reindeer
over undivided fields, appears like a romantic feature in this life; but
it must be viewed from afar. Near, every trace of beauty vanishes in the
fumes of brandy and the smoke of the Lapland hut.
Along the coasts, between the cliffs, and the rocks, and the hundreds of
islands which surround this strand, live a race of fishermen, who,
rivalling the sea-mew, skim the sea. Night and day, winter and summer,
swarm their boats upon the waves; through the whistling tempest, through
the foaming breakers, speed they unterrified with their light sails,
that from the depths of the sea they may catch the silvery shoals of
herrings, the greatest wealth of the country. Many annually are
swallowed up of the deep; but more struggle with the elements, and
conquer. Thus amid the daily contest are many powers developed, many a
hero-deed achieved,[13] and people harden themselves against danger and
death, and also against the gentler beauty of life.
Yet it is in this severe region that the eider-duck has its home; it is
upon those naked cliffs where its nest is built, from feathers plucked
from its own breast, that silky soft down which is scattered abroad over
the whole world, that people in the North and in the South may lie warm
and soft. How many suffering limbs, how many aching heads, have not
received comfort from the hard cliffs of Norway.
Upon the boundaries between Nordland and Finmark lies the city of
Tromsö, the now flourishing centre of these provinces. It was here that
Alette was to spend her life; it was here that affection prepared for
her a warm and peaceful nest, like the eider-duck drawing from its own
breast the means of preparing a soft couch in the bosom of the hard
rock. And after Alette had described to Susanna what terrified her so
much in her northern retreat, she concealed not from her that which
reconciled her so forcibly to it; and Susanna comprehended this very
well, as Alette read to her the following letter:
Tromsö. May 28th.
Were you but here, my Alette! I miss you every moment whilst I am
arranging my dwelling for your reception, and feel continually the
necessity of asking, "How do you wish it? what think you of it?" Ah,
that you were here, my own beloved, at this moment! and you would be
charmed with this "ice and bear land," before which, I know, you
secretly shudder. The country around here is not wild and dark; as, for
example, at Helgoland. Leafy woods garland the craggy shores of our
island, and around them play the waves of the sea in safe bays and
creeks. Our well-built little city lies sweetly upon the southern side
of the island, only divided from the mainland by a narrow arm of the
sea. My house is situated in the street which runs along the large
convenient harbour. At this moment above twenty vessels lie at anchor,
and the various flags of the different nations wave in the evening wind.
There are English, German, and especially Russian, which come to our
coast, in order to take our fish, our eider-down, and so on, in exchange
for their corn and furs. Besides these, the inhabitants of more southern
regions bring hither a vast number of articles of luxury and fashion,
which are eagerly purchased by the inhabitants of Kola, and the borders
of the White Sea. Long life to Commerce! My soul expands at the sight of
its life. What has not commerce done from the beginning of the world for
the embellishment of life, for promoting the friendly intercourse of
countries and people, for the refinement of manners! It has always given
me the most heartfelt delight, that the wisest and most humane of the
lawgivers of antiquity--Solon--was a merchant. "By trade," says one of
his biographers, "by wisdom and music was his soul fashioned. Long life
to commerce! What lives not through it?" What is all fresh life, all
movement, in reality, but trade, exchange, gift for gift! In love, in
friendship, in the great life of the people, in the quiet family circle,
everywhere where I see happiness and prosperity, see I also trade; nay,
what is the whole earth if not a colony from the mother country of
heaven, and whose well-being and happy condition depend upon free export
and import! The simile might be still further carried out, yet--thou
good Giver above, pardon us that we have ventured upon it!
And you must not fancy, Alette, that the great interest for trade here
excludes the nobler and more refined mental culture. Among the thousand
people who inhabit the city, one can select out an interesting circle
for social intercourse. We also have a theatre, and many pleasures of
refined life. I was yesterday at a ball, where they danced through the
whole night, till--daylight. The good music, the tasteful dresses and
lovely dancing of the ladies; but above all, the tone of social life,
the cordial cheerfulness, astonished several foreigners who were
present, and caused them to inquire whether they were really here under
the seventieth degree of latitude?
But the winter! Methinks I hear you say, "in summer it may be well
enough, but in the long, dark winter." Well then, my Alette,
winter--goes on right excellently when people love one another, when it
is warm at home. Do you remember, Alette, last autumn, how we read
together at Christiansand, in the Morning Paper, the following paragraph
from the Tromsö News of the fourteenth of October:
"Already for several days successively have we had snow storms, and at
this moment the snow-plough is working to form a road for the
church-going people. The grave-like stillness of night and winter spread
itself with tempest speed over meadow and valley, and only a few cows
wander now like spectres over the snow-covered fields, to pluck their
scanty fare from the twigs which are not yet snowed up."
That little winter-piece pleased me, but at the expression, "the
grave-like stillness of night and winter," you bowed your loving dear
face, with closed eyes, to my breast. Oh, my Alette! thus shall you do
in future, when dread of darkness and cold seize upon you; and upon my
breast, listening to the beating of my heart and to my love, shall you
forget the dark pictures which stand without before your home. Close
your eyes; slumber beloved, whilst I watch over you, and then you will,
with brightening eyes and blooming cheeks, look upon the night and
winter, and feel that its power is not great. Oh, truly can love, this
Geiser of the soul, smelt ice and snow, wherever they may be on earth;
truly, wherever its warm springs swell forth, a southern clime can
bloom; yes, even at the North Pole itself.
Whilst I write this, I hear music, which makes upon me a cheerful and a
melancholy impression at the same time. They are eight Russians, who
sing one of their national songs, whilst in the quiet evening they sail
down the Tromsö-sound. They sing a quartet, and with the most complete
purity and melody. They sing in a minor key, but yet not mournfully.
They row in the deep shadow of the shore, and at every stroke of the
oars the water shines around the boat, and drops, as of fire, fall from
the oars. The phenomenon is not uncommon on the Atlantic; and know you
not, my Alette, what it is which shines and burns so in the sea? It is
love! At certain moments, the consciousness of the sea-insects rises to
a high pitch of vividness, and millions of existences invisible to the
naked human eye, then celebrate the bliss of their being. In such
moments the sea kindles; then every little worm, inspired by love,
lights up its tiny lamp. Yet only for a moment burns its flame, then all
the quicker to be extinguished. But it dies without pain--dies joyfully.
Rich nature! Good Creator!
My heart also burns. I look upon the illuminated element, which may be
said to be full of enjoyment; I listen to the melody of the singers,
full of joy and pain, and--I stretch forth my arms to you, Alette, my
Alette!
"Oh!" exclaimed Susanna, "how this man loves you, and how you must love
him! Certainly you must live long, that you may be happy together!"
"And if not long," said Alette, "yet for a short time; yes, a short time
I hope to live and to make him happy, to thank him for all his love. And
then----"
Alette stooped down and plucked a beautiful full-blown water-lily which
grew in the river, by whose banks they stood; she showed it to Susanna,
whilst she continued with a pensive smile--
What more then than this?
One moment she is
A friendly ray given,
From her home's shining heaven;
Then is she the flame,
High mid the temple's resounding acclaim--
One moment like this
Bears you up through death's sleep into bliss.--MUNCH.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] The stormy winter of 1839 abounded in misfortunes to the fishermen
of Lofodne, but abounded also in the most beautiful instances of heroic
courage, where life was ventured, and sometimes lost, in order to save a
suffering fellow-creature.
THE RETURN.
To meet, to part;
The welcome, the farewell;
Behold the sum of life!
BJERREGAARD.
Alette set off to fulfil her promise to her uncle in Hallingdal; but in
a few weeks she was again at Semb, in company with Harald and Alf Lexow,
who had fetched her there. Yet this visit could last only for a short
time, for then she had to set out with her bridegroom and her uncle's
family on the journey to Trondhjem, where her marriage was to be
celebrated at the house of a rich and cordial aunt, who had long been
rejoicing in it, and had now for several months been baking and boiling
in preparation for it. Harald also was to accompany them on this
journey.
Alf Lexow was a man in his best years, with an open and generous manner.
His face was small, marked by the smallpox, but otherwise handsome and
full of life and benevolence. He was one of those men whose first glance
attracts one and inspires confidence. Susanna felt great pleasure on
seeing the affectionate, confidential understanding between the
betrothed. She herself also was now happier, because Harald now left
Alette much with her bridegroom, and sought as before for Susanna's
society.
Alette was lively, agreeable, and well-educated; but she liked best to
hear herself talk. So in reality did Harald; and a better listener than
Susanna could nobody have. Contentions occurred no longer; but there was
a something in Susanna which attracted Harald to her more than the
former passion for strife had ever done. He found Susanna's manners
altered for the better; there was in them a something quieter, and, at
the same time, gentler than before; whilst she was now always so kind,
so attentive, and thought of everything which could give pleasure to
others. He saw, at the same time, with what silent solicitude her
thoughts followed Mrs. Astrid, who now, at the approach of autumn--it
was then the end of August--appeared to have relapsed into her dark and
silent mood, out of which she had been aroused for some time. She now
very rarely left her room, except at the hour of dinner.
Harald wished that his sister and brother-in-law elect should witness,
before their departure from the dale, some of the popular assemblings
for games and dancings, and had therefore prepared a rural festival, to
which he invited them and Susanna, and to which we also will now betake
ourselves.
THE HALLING.
This peculiar, wild, affecting music, is our national poetry.
HENR WERGELAND.
The violins ringing;
Not blither the singing
Of birds in the woods and the meadows.
Hurrah! hand round the foaming can--
Skål for the fair maid who dancing began!
Skål for the Jente mine! And
Skål for the Jente thine! And
Skål for the fathers and mothers on benches!
NORWEGIAN SONG.
One lovely afternoon in the early part of September were seen two young
festally-attired peasant maidens gaily talking, hastening along the
footpath through the little wood in Heimdal towards a green open space
surrounded by trees, and where might be seen a crowd of persons of both
sexes assembled, all in peasant dresses. Here was the "Leikevold," or
dancing-ground; and as the young girls approached it, the one said to
the other, "It is certain, Susanna, that the dress becomes you
excellently! Your lovely bright hair shines more beautifully than ever,
plaited with red ribbons. I fancy the costume does not suit me half so
well."
"Because you, best Alette, look like a disguised princess, and I in mine
like a regular peasant girl."