Now have I triumphed by the blood of the wounds of Jesus. I
have found my God, and gladly go to heaven.
The home life of Norway is very simple throughout: in summer, the
perfect enjoyment of the short but bright season; in winter, spinning,
weaving, and sledging. The absence of rudeness—the modern term “chaff”
is unknown—the “even-manneredness” of the people in all classes,
must strike a stranger. Whatever may be the class of society, there
is always the same kindly politeness. No double set of manners, as
civilisation brings about; no rudeness to inferiors, or fawning to
superiors; the equal distribution of this world’s goods, combined with
innate kindliness, prevents this. No unkindness, for they are tender
to all dumb animals, and that is an undoubted sign of sterling worth.
And yet, with all this, what jolly little things the children and young
folk are! They will make the most charming little curtsey, and then go
off, children to the core. A good innocent romp, how they enjoy it! The
young girls, too, are so natural, perfectly easy, and well behaved,
that it is refreshing to be with them. Nothing prim or starched about
them, but good hearts, with the bloom of youth. Their dances, too, how
they enjoy them; and then a song, with a chorus from the whole company,
and another dance! Capital housewives these Scandinavian maidens should
make, for even the _fröken_, or young girl of position, carries out all
the household duties of home, and enters into the real work of life
with the greatest earnestness, being mistress of every detail, and yet
the most charming of God’s work—a natural lady. N.B.—The Patriarch
did not lose his heart in Gamle Norge; that was safely at home in the
good care of one who has monopolized it ever since he was a boy.
[Illustration: _Sledging._]
Norwegian housekeeping is so totally different from anything we
have that it will be well to note it here. The wife has greater
responsibility and requires more forethought than with us. There are
no co-operative stores to which to send a long list; no one calls
for orders, or solicits the favour of custom; no inviting circulars
or enticing advertisements create an appetite for new purchases, and
make one believe that superfluous things are absolutely necessary,
and must be had. Nor does the husband go to town every day, and bring
back anything the dear wife has forgotten. Her mental powers and good
management must be equal to getting everything in before the winter
arrives, not for the family only, but for the labourers also; and all
this perhaps on slender means, sparse harvests, and bad seasons. In
this respect, therefore, if for no other, the betrothal system comes
in well, affording the young couple plenty of time for the acquisition
of a thorough knowledge of what their new position may necessitate.
There is one thing, however, Norwegians do not comprehend, and that is
the blessing of ventilation. They cannot understand it, and certainly
never practise it. Their rooms are stuffed up in every conceivable
way. As soon as the cold weather begins the internal atmosphere of the
house remains unchanged until the following summer. When you open the
door you have to cut your way in; it is as dense as cold turtle, and
less agreeable. The marvel is that colds are not more prevalent, from
the fact that the good folk wash their necks on Saturday afternoon as
a preparation for the Sunday, when they dress in their best, and look
like different creatures.
[Illustration: _The Gentle Reproof._]
We are drawing near to the end of our tether, and much as we love home,
there is not the same buoyancy about the return, however happy or
successful the trip may have been, as there is about the start; for the
latter is an important event, teeming with hope and expectancy, from
the _couleur-de-rose_ descriptions of friends who have preceded us,
and who have heartily enjoyed the recapitulation of their adventures,
narrow escapes, and temporary deprivations. But it is very different
with the end of a journey. There is something of the Ichabod in it; and
yet we know not why there should be; for if it has been one of danger,
we ought to be thankful that it is over; and if, on the contrary,
it has been productive of pleasant associations, we should still be
thankful, inasmuch as it will prove a bright spot to fall back upon
and refresh ourselves with when wearied in after-life. So we will not
be depressed at the end of our trip to Gamle Norge; we would rather
think of all the kindnesses of the people, the grand scenery of the
coast, the combinations of sea-rock façade and snow, and learn a lesson
of contentment and Christian love from the _bönder_ and their happy
families.
Having overcome this very natural feeling of regret that our holiday
is over, let us, in conclusion, notice a few leading characteristics
of the country which have been unnoted as we passed through it. Its
geology is most characteristic, while in variety of climate it stands
alone. Its wood-carving, too, has great individuality; and so has its
old silver.[6]
[6] THE NEW CURRENCY OF NORWAY.—This change from the old specie dollar
and skillings came into force on January 1st, 1877, when specie
dollars, marks or orts, and skillings became matters of history. The
new _régime_ is as follows:—