Chapter 7
The lectures started; the pupils had turned into students.
For Daniel it was a great help; it occupied his thoughts. Between all these ideas of ideal youth, he can think of Berta Maria.
He had thought that the lectures were not spiritual at all. Very often he had called them soulless, if only he had dared to say or think so about such sublime things. But he did not dare. It was certainly only him that did not throughly understand them.
It was nice here, that one did not need to study the lessons. And one was not asked about the lessons. One had enough to do just listening and writing “notes” if one thought it necessary, and if one wanted to be absent from the lectures, nobody held him to account. The professors did not know their students; everyone worked as he would. Daniel liked this, but he wondered how one would learn the lessons if one did not get home assignments.
In the afternoons, he joined whatever company he got. He had thought of reading again what he had learned and not learned in his schooldays, but that had to wait until later. In the evenings, he was sometimes at the theater. He liked it there; most of it was about love. And everything was beautiful and ideal. The theater was like a fairyland in the midst of life’s prose; there the beautiful lived in its life peace; sheltered from everything that could displace or tarnish it. There Daniel lived in the true ideal, he thought, even if he had to sit in the cheapest seats.
Jens Larsebakken sent the money. But that worker of the soil sent only 50 dalar instead of 100; so it meant being very careful about spending, and Daniel saved as well as he had learned. It meant stretching the 50 dalar as much as he could. But in time, he might be able to get more.
Those who had helped him for so long did not help anymore. And now Daniel has a specially good reason to hope; because Jens Larsebakken had told him that his brother, Lias, had gotten a license to dig on several “promising” ore sites –
At the student association, he had some evenings when he could watch the great student life. But it was so solemn there. He felt almost lost in this great hall, among all those many self-assured yuuth; and he sat and listened to readings from the gazette and debates as quietly as if he were in a church. But the discussion was about an autumn ball that some very much wanted to organize; and it was strange how quick they were to tweak and edit each other’s words “in absurdum” (1) Daniel listened with respect to these great speakers and thought to himself that he could not manage to learn such things. But time went slowly here and he just sat and wished that they would finish. At last came the toddy. But it was not like the graduation party. One must sit so stiffly like a wooden stave and listen to long speeches; there was not much life before it was far into the night, but when they had come that far, they stopped.
Was this in reality the ideal student life? But one night Aslak Fjordan said with a big laugh that he could swear he had never been involved with such nonsense as this than now. And when Haugum halfway agreed with it, so did Daniel. They were agreed that this was not the right spirit of the student life; and then they parted; Aslak invited them to his home for the next Saturday evening; where they would have it much nicer than at the student association, he said.
Saturday evening came, and Aslak kept his word. It was a small gathering and there was life in the company. A couple of guests, among them a student named Hærland from the The Future clique according to Aslak, were new to Daniel; but everybody got acquainted soon enough. The conversation started quickly. The professors were appraised in various ways; then came topics about science and especially philosophy. Haugum had difficulty with the “transition” from nothingness to existence and asked Hærland to take it up; Hærland laughed and asked what Haugum meant that such things were to be “understood”. “Can you find one Norwegian student who has learned to understand the Hegelian logic,” he added, “then I shall not be an honest man.” Then laughed Aslak with his loud laughter and said that he wanted to believe it like hell; the poet Gregus Johnsen nodded.
Fromlogic they went on to ethics; and from there to politics. Hærland and Aslak were republicans; the others were constitutionalists; and there was a hot debate; the only one who did not join in was Ortvedt who thought it was too heavy; Gregus Johnson found it prosaic; and Daniel was content to just listen. Besides, he did know whose side he will take; he naturally sided with Haugum but he really wanted to support Hærland who was a sharp and articulate fellow.
But after a while, Aslak was bored with the debate and wanted to have a more genial spirit`, so he set to singing with his great voice, “Ja vi elsker dette Landet”. (2) That helped. Haugum forgot the kingdom and the republic and joined the singing in happy celebration: “som det stiger frem”; (3) Daniel and Gregus Johnson joined in; Hærland could not stop talking but he joined in with “de tusind Hjem”. (4)
And they sang and sang themselves warm. The one verse took the other; and at each verse they were happier and in higher spirits. At last when they raised strong voices and swore
“Also we, when it is demanded,
will for its peace join the camp”
Haugum clinked on his glass and said that he wanted to give a toast to the fatherland. He did not have much to say and it was not really a speech, but it was eloquent. There was silence among them as they drank the toast.
Then Gregus Johnsen said that it was his turn; he asked affably if the gentlemen had read the latest poem of Bjørnson. “Yes,” answered Ortvedt promptly; but Daniel was innocent and said “No”, and that gave Gregus the signal to recite the poem. He declaimed with great effort, but there was not much applause. But Haugum rose and gave a speech on Bjørnson that met with such approval, so that Gregus also tried to make a speech on the same subject. With that speech, Hærland took the opportunity to start with “Scandinavism”; Haugum took the opposing view; but it was soon evident they were actually in agreement. They had drank so much toddy that they became more spirited and then the party began to split into smaller groups. Ortvedt told about being in a drinking party where the host began shooting at the guests with a revolver; Haugum and Hærland were discussing the country’s administration; Gregus grabbed Daniel and explained about his misfortune at the examination. He had taken the examination twice, but what Daniel must know is that he was not made to become an exam horse. He was meant for something else, something that he thought was more sublime. He did not know if Mr. Braut would agree that poetry was supreme in life. “Yes, yes,” shouted Daniel, “poetry; that is exactly my opinion too; there is nothing like it!”
Gregus was happy to hear that. There were so many philistines nowadays, and even among the students, there were those who did not have a taste for it, that poetry was the most sublime power in life. But Gregus understood that and nobody can convince him otherwise. To hitch him up to the examination wagon was like ... yes, he did not want to use the image he was thinking of. People talked about spiritual development, about intellectual discipline... yes, Gregus had read philosophy about such and such; but... they did not understand the spirit, those people; they have never felt the spirit roar on wide wings inside them; Gregus is convinced that they did not have that, if they think that they could bind the spirit with rules and by saying that one must think such and such, and so and so, as if the spirit did not go on its own ways!
“Yes, sing it!” yelled Aslak Fjordan: “sing it!” Haugum set to it calmly, with a mild voice; everybody listened:
“I have carried the wings of the lark
I have loudly sung its song;
I have felt that I shall swing myself
up to Paradise one day, up to Paradise one day.”
The song was just the thing; Haugum had to sing it once more. Gentle and warm in their thoughts, they sad listening and dreaming once more of their childhood dreams about angels and God the Father. It could happen that on some days they had doubts about a couple of things about the Church’s teaching; but in moments like this came up all the good and warm thoughts, and they again believed as they did in their childhood. Even Hærland was carried away, his eyes gentle and feeling warm in the chest, he sat and let himself glide into peaceful church dreams; finally, he swore that this was the most sublime and deepest inside us, regardless of how much we struggle with doubts and denials.
After a while, they took up another topic: women. It was a long chapter. It went the whole scale: from the “ideal” – cheers for the sweetheart! “The darkness sank, it cooled” and downwards, until they reached the bottom. Then Ortvedt began with a little thin voice and wavered in singing, “Samson, who loved Daliladalila, daliladalila”, and then everything went in all directions; Daniel who was thinking with an aching heart of his unfortuante Berta Maria, could not enjoy himself. Through a natural chain of thoughts, they came to talk of unpleasant things like illness, medicine, scary infirmities, such that Daniel sat completely scared. Then Aslak said, “Cheers!” and drank the rest of the glass. “Was it the second or the third?” he laughed and poured another glass, and motioned to the others to do the same. But when Ortvedt went on withhis hospital stories, Aslak stood up and began singing with a voice that could wake up the dead, “Sing about the students\ happy days.”
The song came at exactly the right moment. Haugum stood up and sang with him, soon the others did too and went tramping around the floor as they sang; but they did not reach the end of the verse; the discussion caught them again, one by one. They have so much to talk about; two and two; or three and three, they stood and talked; and now and then they went to the table and drank a toast, “Cheers!” It got livelier and livelier, and the chatting got louder and louder, just like a sea when it starts to heave and blow. Some talked about where it would be best to have dinner; others discussed about the three pesons in one god. And so finally came up what they mostly kept to themselves: money worries and transgressions, bluffings and stupidities were revealed so honestly and totally as if they were standing before the last judgement. Daniel could no longer bear his sorrows about love all by himself; Gregus Johnsen let Ortvedt know that he was working on a big tragic drama that should be named Emperor Caligula: “the devil it is!” laughed Ortvedt; “aut Cæsar; aut nihil”, said Gregus Johnsen. But Hærland who had arrived at his own happy state went to Haugum and explained that the teachings about the divinity of Christ was not biblical at all, in such an excited manner that his hair was almost flying out of his head. And they drank in “dus” with a sacred fervor; and loved each other and believed in each other; and burst out in roaring and happy laughter about nothing at all. Now and then they began singing “Sing about the students”, then forgot everything else, and everyone said with “let us be glad” but almost at once the chat was picked up again and the verse was never finished. The air was stuffy like a cloud of tobacco smoke and toddy fumes; Haugum let the window stand ajar but it did not help much. So they clinked on a glass; one or the other stood up red-eyed and pale and held a speech before a toast for this or this, or that and that; and then Hærland, who had gotten tired of quarreling with Haugum about the divinity of Christ, made a long speech about “the grand ideas that came over us like a flood from Europe” It was almost morning when the party broke up.
They had several of such nights. And they sang and made noise and held discussions about everything; fought about politics and big issues; so that there were moments of hostility; often they got Aslak Fjordan and Halvor Mosebø to sing folksongs or they got Hærland to narrate a folktale in the dialect.
When they went about talking and singing arm in arm along the streets long into the night, they almost got a constable running at their heels; “he understood that they were graduates, and hoped to impose fines on them,” said Hærland. As it had been in the old days, so was it now that the student life did not go well with the police; but they took it lightly and; when they heard the constable after them, they became sober and serious like a group of community leaders. The old farmers’ respect for everything that smelled of “authority” was in their blood; yes, Daniel was abstaining from alcohol; when he had been drinking, he felt a longing to have “a good talk with that constable”, so that he wanted to “cut up the seams of his coat” or “get his head down into his throat”; but the whole gang behaved. Daniel was so very afraid of him; it was not easy to know which way it will go if he got into the claws of the police.
Otherwise they could decide to go wild. People who were free from all disciplinarians, from the strong farmers’ conventions and the wise folk traditions; they thought that they who are farmers ought to use their freedom. Nightlife in Kristiania was for them a wild and tempting adventure; one ought to know this unbelievable werewolf life outside all rules and moral restrictions that stood outside the human understanding. So it could happen, when they were quick and lively--- and the night was dark, that Ortvedt suggested “beer upstairs”, and so they went there, the only place where they could “get beer after midnight.” But they did not enjoy it much, the adventure was not adventurous enough. It was pathetic Kristiania prose, raw and rotten company that smelled like a gutter. It was unbelievable that such could exist and that people could be so terribly bad.
Daniel was soon tired of going to the lectures. To sit up there in the dark Universiy four or five hours everyday and listen to the endless explanations about angles and categories; it was not much nicer than being in school. He did not learn anything either. He wondered if this were the lectures that Professor Darre had meant. when he made the speech about the soulless study of science. And philosophy – yes, it was incomprehensible, as Hærland had said.
He allowed himself to neglect his studies. When the examination comes, one could memorize the necessary books; that accomplished the same thing. And there were many who did that too. Besides, the second examination was easy. And it had so little significance; one could use his time in better ways; one could sit at home in peace and quiet and study the human life through soulful books.
So that was what Daniel did. His acquaintances did not wonder about it every day, but often enough. And it became more and more often.
Those “soulful” books he borrowed from Gregus Johnsen for a bottle of beer every now and then; afterwards he began reading novels.
Pretty soon, his money began to shrink. He had two alternatives: look for something that would earn him some shillings; or he should start saving seriously.
He chose to save. One can be an independent student as long as he could; and help will come soon; one must simply hold out as long as he can.
Lias must soon sell his ore, then all of us will be saved. And if worse comes to worst, he told himself that it must be easy to get a job in such a big and rich city as Kristiania.
The only thing he could save on was food. But that is as it should be. Philistines live so they could eat; a student ate so he could live; a true student and idealist should live on a meager diet. And Dølen had lived his best days when he did not get any dinner.
Daniel wanted to try this. For two days a week, he skipped dinner and lived on “home food”. And that, he thought, was good enough.
But the money shrunk even further.
One had to scrimp on dinner. There was no other way; besides, it was nice to have dinner at home, it was so quiet there.
He became lazier and lazier. In the mornings, he lay and read and smoked long into the afternoon, and when he got up, he simply continued what he had been doing.
It was so gratifying to read about love. Almost always, he found a girl who could be Berta Maria, and one who could be Inga Holm; and in these dreams he lived. But life itself was a dream that he had forgotten.
He began to understand the boy who wished to be king, and who wanted to lie in the barn the whole day and ate sour cream porridge. Those who had a novel and ate porridge, then smoked a pipe afterwards could not have it so bad!
After a lapse of time, he suddenly had a terrible craving for food. As quietly as he had been living, he was almost always hungry. This did not bode well for his savings.
It got worse and worse. Thoughts of food became so strong that he did not get peace. He could read the most wonderful stories about love and its sorrows, and then he had to get up and cut a piece of bread for himself. Or he would read about the lives of knights and their chivalrous deeds in the heat of his dreams of salted meat and pork with peas at the “Dampen”. (5)
One day, he stood before the “Dampen”, that day when he should have stayed home according to his schedule. Strong smells of food wafted over him from the steaming kitchen; he breathed in the aroma as drunkards gulped their drink; but his conscience pricked and nagged and clearly reminded him that he could not afford it.
When he reached the service window where the food came was handed out and served the rich depths .... and when the smoking hot fat flowed into his hands, it was no longer a dream but a very real and solid reality – oh, he cast himself over the food like a beast; his body hunched over it as a dog guarded a stolen piece of bone; and he ate; sighed in vast relief, set himself to eating it thoroughly and methodically so that each single bite went in carefully; cleaned out the plate; and wished that he had the neck of a swan so that the pleasure would be longer. But when he came home, he was as hungry as before.
It was not so poetic to starve as Daniel had thought. And with mounting terror, he saw that his money was less and less each day. Each dalar that disappared was like one more piece of brick that disappered from under him; and when the day came that the last shilling had to be spent... it was like gliding into a dark, deep abyss.
He had acquaintances; but they needed their shillings themselves. Haugum would be going home for the New Year and would work at a job in a school; Ortvedt would go out to the countryside and work as a house tutor; Aslak Fjordan had almost used up his bank account, and Hærland and Sven Dufva lived on loans just like the others. Daniel realized that they were always afraid that he might want to borrow money from them.
He no longer thought of looking elegant; those dreams were among the first that he had discarded. His Sunday clothes must be spared as long as he could; and so too with his everyday clothes. His coat had faded so that it was a color between bottle green and ash yellow; and it was so baggy that it hang on him like a sack; the vest was buttoned all the way up to the throat to hide the shirt that was seldom washed; laundry was expensive; and at the throat he had a paper collar that was not often changed. The hair was left to go whichever way it would; and the long, red beard grew on his chin in its own scraggly fashion. His trousers hang down his legs in baggy folds and the scruffy hem lay over the holes in his boots with the worn and misshapen heels. He comforted himself with the thought that with the winter coming soon, he could hide the worst signs of poverty with his winter coat.
No longer could he join the toddy evenings, because he could not afford to host an evening even once. Besides, he quickly got drunk now and it was so bad to feel drunk. And when he was drunk, he babbled incessantly that he became repulsive. He was more and more alone; and he lay more and more in hiding; that ideal student life has to wait until he could get shillings again.
Everyday he walked and waited for the letter frrom Lias about his ore mining. But it did not work out. And Daniel knew that the day when he will not have a single shilling will soon come .
He had been asked to pay last month’s rent. That time he had gotten away from it in some way, but he knew that a new demand for payment would come anytime now. Oh, if only Lias would write!
Yes, one day Lias wrote. He wrote that he wanted to sell the farm and go to America. He had gone crazy for a time with mining fever and wasted time and money as a victim of the worst fraud; now he could no longer cope. Jens Larsebakken or the bank would take over the farm, and their mother would go to live with Judit who has gotten married with a carpenter from Neset; he himself would take the next boat.
Daniel sat and read, and it was as if a mountain of dreams tumbled over him in a roar of debris; now he lay under it. What should he do now?
Oh, that the Good Lord could not help. He who owned the whole world; who was all powerful... could He not have helped Lias find the ore? Could He not with a single word create an ore mine in that mountain for which Lias had gotten a license to mine? Could He not ... could He not turn this leter into gold... or turn that lantern into gold; or the inkwell....
“Those who will not work; they shall not eat,” so it was written. But that was not true! Hundreds of thousands of happy boys walked around this world and did nothing; nothing but naughty things; and they lived anyway, lived well; lived magnificently, because they had a wealthy father, or received a big inheritance; why should not another one be close to such things as the others did?
When Daniel had exhausted himself thinking about this and understood that he had nowhere to go; he drew a heavy sigh and told himself that now he must try the last way out.
In a city such as this there were enough jobs. It was just a matter of finding something that one liked.
What job could he get? Sell books? No. Be a teacher of musick? No. In mathematics? No. In Latin or Greek? No. In German or French? Hardly. He could do nothing that was useful.
And to whom should he go? He knew nobody. Nobody who had money or power. He searched in the newspapers where there might be something.
Nothing. Nothing for him. For tradespeople and servant girls there were enough jobs to get; but for a student who could work at nothing, there was nothing.
Daniel Braut was frightened.
In desperation he went to Haugum. He had to think about getting some work he could do, he said; and he asked if Haugum knew of anybody who might have use for him. No, Haugum knew nobody.
It is very difficult to get a job when one is not known, explained Haugum. Here there is so much competition about everything; a hundred dogs competed for the smallest bone, so that it would be a lucky thing to get anything at all. “But go to the editor of the Farmer’s Friend,” said Haugum, “if there is anyone who should know something, he is the man” “Yes, but ... can one go to such a man ...... and ask him about such?” “Yes, one can do that! The Farner’s Friend is a kind old man, just go to him.”
Daniel put on his Sunday clothes and went on his way. But he did not feel brave.
He was shown into a dark, long room, where a lot of boys sat at his table working on gazette pages. Some were putting pages together; others made covers; others wrote copy. Daniel felt a deep respect; he thought of a word that he read somewhere, that the press was the fourth estate. He took off his cp and uttered greetings to the room; nobody replied. They couldn’t care less; Daniel felt so small; it wouldn’t be worth trying here; better that he should leave. But then came a little boy. “Do you want to talk to somebody?” he asked calmly and confidently; Daniel felt shy with this little fellow. “Yes... it was ... the editor.” “Go ahead! In there!” said the boy, pointing as he walked away. Daniel went in through a corridor; silently, carefully; the fourth estate; the fourth estate! The room was white with paper; the air was filled with the sound of rustling paper.
Quietly and solemnly, Daniel knocked at the door. Nobody answered. One more time; a little more firmly; -”Come in!” said grouchy voice as if from deep inside a cellar. Daniel carefully opened the door and went in; humble as if he were before the king.
There was nobody inside. The room was not big; and it was dimly lit. But it was ugly, and untidy. In the middle of the floor stood a table full of paper and old newspapers; at its end was a large bin or basket of the same sort; books and packages lay topsy turvy on the floor; a huge bookcase at the far end was half empty, staring and gaping over some bound issues of the Farmer’s Friend and The Parliament Times; a couple of wooden chairs stood here and there where they were last used. But in a cubbyhole Daniel saw a gray back that sat stooped over a desk; could that be the Farmer’s Friend?
The grey back turned around; Daniel saw a pale face with sharp eyes, with a thin, red beard around heavy, slack jowls; the mouth that did not say anything was broad and bored . Daniel was uncomfortabl. “Are you... the editor?” he asked; he should have said, “Mr. Editor” but he did not manage to. “He is coming soon,” was the answer, “have a seat!” With that he turned his face away; and Daniel again saw the grey back that sat and hunched itself over a desk.
Daniel sat himself down on one of the wooden chairs. He was glad that the grey back was not the editor; but he felt nervous that the great man should come anytime now... trodding heavily and majestically; pondering on the country’s important reforms; what should one say to such a man?
There was a knock; Daniel tensed where he sat. “Come in!” said the grey back; and a small, thin, rather old man crept in, bareheaded and with short hair, with a small, odd face like a cat's. His back was half bent into a greeting but straightened up when he did not see the editor; scuttled with small, light steps towards the inner door; Daniel thought that the man was a tailor.“Good day!”
The grey back turned.
“The editor is not in?”
“No.”
“Is he coming soon?”
“Oh, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Before noon sometimes.”
“But today I had it from the reception that he is coming here this afternoon?”
“Tomorrow before noon, as I have said. Be here between 11 and one”.
“Yes, yes. But it was about this piece, you understand... “
What piece?”
“Oh, about this piece of luxury... about how wrong it is with all these luxries..”
“Then?”
“He promised he would come, but it has been so long now; and I want to know if he is coming soon!”
“Yes, you will get to talk to the editor.”
“And I really want to know if I can get something for this piece; it is not so easy to cope nowadays.”
“Be here tomorrow between 11 and one.” The face turned away; the grey back clearly showed the tailor the door.
“Good, good,” said the tailor; he stood and shifted his feet as if in a dance; “tomorrow between 11 and one... Yes, goodmorning, then!” He ambled on his way out with long, stiff steps; and then it was evident that he had a bald spot on top of his head.
Daniel did like it where he sat; it was uncomfortable to be here, and there seemed to be nothing to wait for... He dared go to the door and asked respectfully if it was true that the editor will not come until the next morning.“He’s coming soon,” growled the grey back. Was there anything else he could do? Mmm... no, that was ... Would he perhaps want a job with the newspaper? Was he maybe expelled from the University?
No, Daniel was not.
“Well, good. Everyone who failed the exams or expelled from the school often came her and wanted to be newspapermen; we could provide all Europe with such newspapermen; so you should not compete there. Good, there is now.”
Daniel turned, pale and braced himself to utter a greeting. A great body in a great wintercoat squeezed itself through the door; on his head was a fur cap and on his eyes was a pair of big horn-rimmed glasses. Daniel bowed again and again. The old man did not respond; went quickly to a corner and took off his galoshes and overcoat. Then he walked stiffly with old, careful steps towards where Daniel stood; did not return the greeting; said nothing; stared stiffly through his eyeglasses.
Daniel said haltingly as fast as he could what he wanted; the old man raised his head and said no. No, he did not know about anything. He had helped one or other on the way before... “Sit down, my boy! The old man sat down himself; anyway there was one whose name was... whose name was ... Jacob, no, Peter, no it was Jacob! No, I think it was Peter, Peter – Peter Monsen ... “Are you acquainted with Peter Monsen?” No. Daniel did not know him. “Now then. Yes; he was in fact the boy who knew how to ingratiate himself, blast him, and borrowed 20 dalar from me that he promised to pay when his father had sold the great mine that he had found...” And Daniel got a long story about this Peter Monsen and his talent for getting around; the old man laughed and was in good humor. But Daniel felt more and more hopeless. There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” shouted the old man. “Yes, as I said, no, I don’t know anything, my boy; but you can put in an ad! Good evening, good evening!” he said to the newcomer. “Now, that was good, you came. Have a seat! Yes, goodnight, my boy!” Daniel left; he felt so terribly cold, and so heavy in the feet.
He walked home and lay down. He was not thinking; he only lay there, feeling hopeless. Afterwards he began to daydream. Maybe there was a meaning to this. Maybe Our Lord did not want him to be bound to just any job; maybe He had prepared the help already, and that one He would send when the need was greatest. On the day when he came home hungry and tired, and completely hopeless, there would be a letter addressed to him on the table with 100 dalar and only these words. “from an unknown frriend, be brave! And when that money was gone, there would be a new letter of the same kind... He lay there and imagined how best he would use the money; but he decided that 100 dalar was far too little; and so he dreamed the dream again such that there was now 200 dalar inside the letter. There was a knock on the door; Daniel sat up... but it was only Gregus Johnsen.
The following day, Daniel went to the University halls to look if there were some jobs as house tutor available. Yes, there was one, with a doctor living far in the western countryside. Daniel left right away. Our Lord could never want him to bury himself down in that faraway province.
He no longer had the inclination to sit inside and read.
Neither could he attend the lectures, he had other things to think of. Mostly he went strolling down the street and drowned his fears in daydreams; and he had a secret hope–that he would in some way get through. It could happen that his luck was sitting and waiting for him here or there; if he could only get over this. The food! It would be so absurd that a soul would go under, just because of food. All heroes in all the poems always got food; it was cruel to ask about such things. The food must come. Our Lod was just as good a poet as the all the others....
Without purpose, without thought, irresponsible it would be to help him out of the life of a farmer only to let him down in this manner. Daniel’s thoughts were not free of the threat that he would stop believing in the Good Lord if He does not get help now. These were thoughts that he found contemptible, but he justified this with the thought that if he should reach rock bottom, then he would come to believe that there is no meaning in life. And so it is all up to the Good Lord! He who had every man’s heart and mind in His hand... Daniel went on thinking of a thousand ways how the Good Lord could solve his problem. Now and then, an old memory about a verse of psalm rolled about in his, something about the Good Lord gave His children what they need while they lay down sleeping; and was it not written in the Bible? Old Kingo (6) sang about both Joseph and Elias and many others, the verse hummed in the ears of the boy, until he could almost hear it:
“Elia, sig, hvo fødte dig,
der Regnen forholdtes underlig
i den svare dyre Tid?
I sidons Land en enke rund
til den Gud sendte dig samme Stund.
Og at du ei skulde lide Nød,
der du drog did, som Gud dig bød,
og hans Befaling gjorde,
dig førte Ravne Kjød og Brød
aarle og silde til din Fød’.
Josef blev til Ægypten solgt
og der i Fægsel sat med Vold
for sin Gudfrygtighed;
Men Gud hjalp ham til Herrenavn,
hans Venner til stor Ære og Gavn
Gud havde Daniel ei forgjet,
der han blandt Løverne var nedsæt,
sin Engel sendte han did;
han hannem Mad da føre lod
ved Habakuk, sin Tjener god.” (7)
It was about having faith, he told himself. But he had faith. Was it not about having more than that? That he should have faith as strong as a mountain! But when he thought about this, he felt inside him the voice of his conscience that put his nose out of joint: you are lying.
Could it be this that stood in the way? Would the Good Lord, through poverty and need force his mind and drive him to repentance? He was troubled with such thoughts. The next day he went up to the University and wanted to look for something better than the house tutor’s post; it could be wortwhile not to demand too much from the Good Lord either. But when he arrived, the ad on the house tutor’s post was gone.
Daniel went home with a bowed head and heavy steps. But afterwards his daydreams began again. When the need is at its worst, help is close at hand. It could happen that when he came into his room, on the table would be a letter with a letter of credit, from an unknown friend, 100 dalar, 200 dalar, 500, 1000.... He did not really believe this. But when he came into his room, he glanced towards the table, not believing that there would be anything there yet. By God! There was a letter. Could this be possible? Could Our Lord in his eternal mercy... He opened the letter with trembling hands. It said
Mr. Student D. Sørbraut
Dear cousin!
I have such a longing to go to Kristiania. I do not enjoy it here at home, the living conditions here are so miserably small that I can honestly agree with the great poet B. Bjørnson; here it is so cramped, corrodingly crampe, and my courage is so unseasoned and perverse. Therefore, I now ask you, who are a student and familiar with that place, to grant the big favor to get me a place in Kristiania. I do not have good speech, but my handwriting is good and I can do the four basics of arithmethic and do fractions; in addition to being able to make computations of interest and understand decimals; and my needs are not so big; if only I can live there...”
Daniel flung the letter as far as he could. He was in such a bad mood and tired that he could not laugh.
________
(1) in absurdum - make fun of
(2)“Ja vi elsker dette Landet” - the first line of Norway’s national anthem, (Yes, we love this land)
(3) “som det stiger frem” - that rises from the sea”
(4) “det tusind Hjem” - the thousand homes
(5) Dampen - literally “steam kitchen”, a cheap eating place Kristiania (Oslo) that served hot food and was frequented by students and the labor class.(6) Thomas Kingo (1634-1703), Danish priest who wrote psalms, became bishop in 1679, author, and composer. He published "Kingo's Psalmebok"m a book of psalms in 1699, which included 86 of his psalms and was used in Denmark and in Norway during the 1870s. Landstad's book of psalms replaced Kingo's book of psalms.
(7) See the translation in the Appendices.