SKETCHES FROM SZTERSDAL. ae 
himself, and you will get a naive and astonished reply. 
‘He needn’t work, he is rich; he isn’t compelled to 
do it.” They cannot understand why a person works, 
unless from the greatest necessity. Amongst a people 
of such idle tendencies, it is very common to find along 
with this letting out of farms an arrangement made by 
which the owner secures a maintenance for himself, so 
as to be able to pursue an idle, slothful, lounging exist- 
ence; and it is easy to understand what a depressing 
influence such a proceeding must have on the value of 
property, and the progress of agriculture. It has, more- 
over, a destructive influence on the whole family life, and 
often by the side of affection for parents, there creeps in 
an element of calculative speculation on the probable 
event of their death, so as to set the estate at liberty. 
The Szetersdal peasant (as with all uncivilized people), 
is greatly addicted to strong drink, and on particular occa- 
sions—at all events at marriages and Christmas feasts 
—there is nothing more common than to see men and 
women, like the Samoiedes, drinking together, till at 
last they roll down in a state of unconscious helplessness. 
And still by the side of this barbarity, there are to be 
found traits of a romantic chivalry in their nature, at 
which one cannot help marvelling. 
In Setersdal abductions are not uncommon. It is 
an old custom, and seems to have taken its origin from 
the desire of forming alliances and connections not 
