when we have lost, and then we always had the smaller number. We now
have liberty; and no other nation has so much of it as we, except
America; but there they are not happy. Our freedom should be loved by
us above everything.
Now I will close for this time, for I have written a very long
letter. The school-master will read it, I suppose, and when he answers
for you, get him to tell me some news about one thing or another, for
he never does so of himself. But now accept hearty greetings from your
affectionate son,
O. THORESEN.

DEAR PARENTS,--Now I must tell you that we have had examinations,
and that I stood 'excellent' in many things, and 'very good' in writing
and surveying, but 'good' in Norwegian composition. This comes, the
superintendent says, from my not having read enough, and he has made me
a present of some of Ole Vig's books, which are matchless, for I
understand everything in them. The superintendent is very kind to me,
and he tells us many things. Everything here is very inferior compared
with what they have abroad; we understand almost nothing, but learn
everything from the Scotch and Swiss, although horticulture we learn
from the Dutch. Many visit these countries. In Sweden, too, they are
much more clever than we, and there the superintendent himself has
been. I have been here now nearly a year, and I thought that I had
learned a great deal; but when I heard what those who passed the
examination knew, and considered that they would not amount to anything
either when they came into contact with foreigners, I became very
despondent. And then the soil here in Norway is so poor compared with
what it is abroad; it does not at all repay us for what we do with it.
Moreover, people will not learn from the experience of others; and even
if they would, and if the soil was much better, they really have not
the money to cultivate it. It is remarkable that things have prospered
as well as they have.
I am now in the highest class, and am to remain there a year
before I get through. But most of my companions have left and I long
for home. I feel alone, although I am not so by any means, but one has
such a strange feeling when one has been long absent. I once thought I
should become so much of a scholar here; but I am not making the
progress I anticipated.
What shall I do with myself when I leave here? First, of course,
I will come home; afterwards, I suppose, I w