One thing is a comfort, at all events; all through the country there is strong evidence of family affection, and these weddings are only the beginning of a new era of happiness. In Thelemarken, as we have already had occasion to remark, one custom is for the bridegroom to elaborately carve the stabur, or family treasure-house, with excellent designs and cunning work, which he effects with his tolle-knife; and another is to carve good mottoes on the large beds and over the doors of the rooms. The following are some from Thelemarken district, that quaint land of short waists, shoulder-blades, and white jackets—a land abounding with grand old conscientious work; huge timbers made into solid houses; no hurry-skurry, no slurriness, no giving as little as possible for wages received—real good timber-work; while inside may be found carved chests, some of them family treasures handed down for generations. Motto over bed, carved in: “This is my bed and resting-place, where God gives me peace and rest, that I may healthy arise and serve Him.” Over the entrance to a house: “Stand, house, in the presence of our Lord, assured from all danger, from fire and theft. Save it, thou, O God; bless also all who go in and all who go out here.” The ale-bowls, too, have good mottoes: “Of me you must drink; but swear not, nor ever drink too much.” This motto we would recommend to the licensed victuallers of England, as good for their “pewters.” Another drinking-bowl: “I am as a star unto you, and all the girls drink of me willingly.” Another: “Taste of the fruit of the corn-field, and thank God from your inmost heart.” This one again: “Drink me forthwith, and be thankful, for I shall soon be no more.” These, we say, are good sentiments, and worthy of note; and they must be the outcome of deeply rooted honest hearts, anxious to benefit not only those about them, but those who may follow.

The Bride’s Return by Water.

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When the bride returns home there are great doings, with firing of guns, and, as we have before observed, libations and dancing; the latter doing good and giving pleasure, the former, to say the least of them, producing the next day what is known in Scotland as the “blacksmith’s hammer on the forehead.”

What a contrast to a Norwegian wedding, carried out with all its details, is the modern civilisation of being married before a “Registrar”—a process which must be sudden death to sentiment, and destructive of all the sacred associations so closely linked with the solemnity of marriage in Norway! Marriage takes time. The Lutheran Church has two distinct services or ceremonies, which conduce to the steady-going of the young people concerned, and tend to develop prudent and careful living. There is first the betrothal, and then the wedding. Circumstances decide the particular period between the two events—one year generally, sometimes two or more; in any case the betrothal is a good preparation for the responsibilities of married life, and certainly works well. One thing is beyond denial—it affords an opportunity to discover latent objections and bad habits, which might not crop out all at once while the lover is offering a concentrated essence of courtship. By the betrothal system a girl enters upon a certain and marked position, being as it were an aspirant to the honour and dignity of marriage; and this training has generally a most wholesome effect. The same system is likewise carried out by the provincial peasants, though these simple folk are sometimes a little impatient of the second ceremony; but the law of Norway has alleviated any difficulty which might arise from such impetuosity, and taken the same status as that of Scotland.

Before the Wedding.

The wedding festival will frequently last a week—early and late. It is not “What a day we are having!” but “What a week we are having!” The home love of the people is prominently shown on occasions like these; their simple affection and general kindliness can only be the outcome of tenderness and sympathy in their every-day life, when the mothers are so motherly, the fathers so fatherly. No “iceberg dads” are to be found in Norway; they are more like the stoves which every one gathers round for comfort when the chills of life are likely to be forthcoming. And the priest comes out strongly on these occasions, for, as we have previously noticed, he is a part of every family; he shares the troubles of the flocks, and enhances their joys. He is no kill-joy; on the contrary, he enters into all that is going on, joins in the songs, is generally convivial at table, and is not shy of tobacco; he is, in fact, a practical, genial Christian, and consequently does good service to the cause he represents and to his flock.