to
trust in God and not allow your heart to consume you, for if you do you
will have another god besides Him. Next I must inform you that your
father 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 the
mind and the body, which now throbs and pains, and tempts one to make
any number of lamentations. But old age should not complain; for
wisdom flows from wounds, and pain preaches patience, that man may grow
strong enough for the last journey. To-day I have taken up my pen for
many reasons, and first and above all for the sake of Marit, who has
become 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 one
thing, but is prevented from so doing by her nature; but I have often
before seen that with hearts of such weak stuff the Lord is indulgent
and long-suffering, and does not allow them to be tempted beyond their
strength, lest they break to pieces, for she is very fragile. I duly
gave her your letter, and she hid it from all save her own heart. If
God will lend His aid in this matter, I have nothing against it, for
Marit is most charming to young men, as plainly can be seen, and she
has abundance of earthly goods, and the heavenly ones she has too, with
all her fickleness. For the fear of God in her mind is like water in a
shallow pond: it is there when it rains, but it is gone when the sun
shines.
My eyes can endure no more at present, for they see well at a
distance, 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 in
all your desires and undertakings, for it is written: "Better is an
handful with quietness, than both the hands full with travail and
vexation 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 concerning
that of which I wanted you to write. Nor do I dare write anything
definite before I know how you are in _every respect_. The
school-master's letter says nothing that one can depend on, but he
praises you and he says you are fickle. That, indeed, yo