CHAPTER VII.
THE SOURCES OF NORSE MYTHOLOGY AND INFLUENCE OF THE ASA-FAITH.
In order to thoroughly comprehend the Odinic mythology it is necessary to make a careful study of the history, literature, languages and dialects of the Teutonic races and of their popular life in all its various manifestations.
The chief depositories of the Norse mythology are the Elder or Sæmund’s Edda (poetry) and the Younger or Snorre’s Edda (prose). In Icelandic _Edda_ means _great-grandmother_, and some think this appellation refers to the ancient origin of the myths it contains. Others connect it with the Indian _Veda_ and the Norse _vide_ (Swedish _veta_, to know).
I. The Elder Edda.
This work was evidently collected from the mouths of the people in the same manner as Homer’s _Iliad_, and there is a similar uncertainty in regard to who put it in writing. It has generally been supposed that the songs of the Elder Edda were collected by Sæmund the Wise (born 1056, died 1133), but Sophus Bugge and N. M. Petersen, both eminent Icelandic scholars, have made it seem quite probable that it was not put in writing before the year 1240. This is not the place for a discussion of this difficult question, and the reader is referred to Sophus Bugge’s Introduction to _Sæmundar Edda_ and to Petersen’s _History of Northern Literature_, if he wishes to investigate this subject. There are thirty-nine poems in the Elder Edda, and we have here to look at their contents. Like the most of the Icelandic poetry, these poems do not distinguish themselves, as does the poetry of Greece and Rome, by a metrical system based on quantity, but have an arrangement of their own in common with the poetry of the other old Gothic nations, the Anglo-Saxons, etc. This system consists chiefly in the number of _long syllables_ and in _alliteration_. The songs are divided into strophes commonly containing eight verses or lines. These strophes are usually divided into two halves, and each of these halves again into two parts, which form a fourth part of the whole strophe, and contain two verses belonging together and united by alliteration.
The alliteration (letter rhyme) is the most essential element in Icelandic versification. It is found in all kinds of verse and in every age, the Icelanders still using it; and its nature is this, that in the two lines belonging together, three words occur beginning with the same letter, two of which must be in the first line and the third in the beginning of the second. The third and last of these is called the chief letter (_höfuðstafr_, head-stave), because it is regarded as ruling over the two others which depend on it and have the name sub-letters (_studlar_, supporters). All rhyme-letters must be found in accented syllables, and no more words in the two lines should begin with the same letter—at least no chief word, which takes the accent on the first syllable. This principle is illustrated by the following first half of the seventh strophe of Völuspá, the oldest song in the Elder Edda:
_T_efldu í _t_úni, _T_eitir váru; _V_ar þeim _v_ettugis _V_ant ór gulli.
Free version in English:
With _g_olden tablets in the _g_arden _G_lad they played, Nor _w_as there to the _v_aliant gods _W_ant of gold.
The rhyme-letters here are those in _italics_.
The poems of the Elder Edda are in no special connection one with the other, and they may be divided into three classes: purely mythological, mythological-didactic, and mythological-historical poems.
The Elder Edda presents the Norse cosmogony, the doctrines of the Odinic mythology, and the lives and doings of the gods. It contains also a cycle of poems on the demi-gods and mythic heroes and heroines of the same period. It gives us as complete a view of the mythological world of the North as Homer and Hesiod do of that of Greece. But (to use in part the language of the Howitts) it presents this to us not as Homer does, worked up into one great poem, but as the rhapsodists of Greece presented to Homer’s hands the materials for that great poem in the various hymns and ballads of the fall of Troy, which they sung all over Greece. No Homer ever arose in Norseland to mould all these sublime lyrics of the Elder Edda into one lordly epic. The story of Siegfried and Brynhild, which occupies the latter portion of the Elder Edda, was, in later times in Germany moulded into the great and beautiful _Niebelungen-Lied_; although it was much altered by the German poet or by German tradition. The poems of the Elder Edda show us what the myths of Greece would have been without a Homer. They remain huge, wild and fragmentary; full of strange gaps rent into their very vitals by the strokes of rude centuries; yet like the ruin of the Colosseum or the temples of Pæstum, standing aloft amid the daylight of the present time, magnificent testimonials of the stupendous genius of the race which reared them. There is nothing besides the Bible, which sits in a divine tranquillity of unapproachable nobility like a king of kings amongst all other books, and the poem of Homer itself, which can compare in all the elements of greatness with the Edda. There is a loftiness of stature, and a firmness of muscle about it which no poets of the same race have ever since reached. The only production since, that can be compared with the Elder Edda in profoundness of thought, is that of Shakespeare, the Hercules or Thor in English literature, that heroic mind of divine lineage which passed through the hell-gates of the Roman school-system unscathed. The obscurity which still hangs over some parts of the Elder Edda, like the deep shadows crouching amid the ruins of the past, is the result of neglect, and will in due time be removed; but amid this stand forth the boldest masses of intellectual masonry. We are astonished at the wisdom which is shaped into maxims, and at the tempestuous strength of passions to which all modern emotions seem puny and constrained. Amid the bright sun-light of a far-off time, surrounded by the densest shadows of forgotten ages, we come at once into the midst of gods and heroes, goddesses and fair women, giants and dwarfs, moving about in a world of wonderful construction, unlike any other world or creation which God has founded or man has imagined, but still beautiful beyond conception.
The Elder Edda opens with Völuspá (the vala’s prophecy), and this song may be regarded as one of the oldest, if not the oldest, poetic monument of the North. In it the mysterious vala, or prophetess, seated somewhere unseen in the marvelous heaven, sings an awful song of the birth of gods and men; of the great Ygdrasil, or Tree of Existence, whose roots and branches extend through all regions of space, and concludes her thrilling hymn with the terrible Ragnarok, or Twilight of the gods, when Odin and the other gods perish in the flames that devour all creation, and the new heavens and new earth rise beautifully green to receive the reign of Balder and of milder natures.
The second song in the Elder Edda is Hávamál (the high-song of Odin). Odin himself is represented as its author. It contains a pretty complete code of Odinic morality and precepts of wisdom. The moral and social axioms that are brought together in Hávamál will surprise the reader, who has been accustomed to regard the Norsemen as a rude and half wild race, hunting in the savage forests of the North, or scouring the coasts of Europe in quest of plunder. They contain a profound knowledge, not merely of human nature, but of human nature in its various social and domestic relations. They are more like the proverbs of Solomon than anything in human literature.
The third poem in the Elder Edda is Vafthrudnismál (that is, Vafthrudner’s speech or song). Vafthrudner is derived from _vaf_, a web or weaving, and _thrúð_, strong; hence Vafthrudner is the _powerful weaver_, the one powerful in riddles, and it is the name of a giant, who in the first part of the poem propounds a series of intricate questions or riddles. Odin tells his wife Frigg that he desires to visit the all-wise giant Vafthrudner, to find out from him the secrets of the past and measure strength with him. Frigg advises him not to undertake this journey, saying that she considers Vafthrudner the strongest of all giants. Odin reminds her of his many perilous adventures and experiences, arguing that these are sufficient to secure him in his curiosity to see Vafthrudner’s halls. Frigg wishes him a prosperous journey and safe return, and also the necessary presence of mind at his meeting with the giant. Odin then proceeds on his journey and enters the halls of Vafthrudner in the guise of a mortal wayfarer, by name Gangraad. He greets the lord of the house, and says he is come to learn whether he was a wise or omniscient giant. Such an address vexes Vafthrudner, coming as it did from a stranger, and he soon informs Gangraad that if he is not wiser than himself he shall not leave the hall alive. But the giant, finding, after he had asked the stranger a few questions, that he really had a worthy antagonist in his presence, invites him to take a seat, and challenges him to enter into a disputation, that they might measure their intellectual strength, on the condition that the vanquished party—the one unable to answer a question put to him by the other—should forfeit his head. Odin accepts this dangerous challenge. They accordingly discuss, by question and answer, the principal topics of Norse mythology. The pretended Gangraad asks the giant many questions, which the latter answers correctly; but when the former at length asks his adversary what Odin whispered in the ear of his son Balder before he had been placed on the funeral pile—a question by which the astonished giant becomes aware that his antagonist is Odin himself, who was alone capable of answering it,—the giant acknowledges himself vanquished, and sees with terror that he cannot avoid the death which he in his cruel pride had intended to inflict upon an innocent wanderer.
The fourth song is Grimnismál (the song of Grimner). It begins with a preface in prose, in which it is related that Odin, under the name of Grimner, visited his foster-son Geirrod, and the latter, deceived by a false representation by Frigg, takes him for a sorcerer, makes him sit between two fires and pine there without nourishment for eight days, until Agnar, the king’s son, reaches him a drinking-horn. Hereupon Grimner sings the song which bears his name. Lamenting his confinement and blessing Agnar, he goes on to picture the twelve abodes of the gods and the splendors of Valhal, which he describes at length, and then speaks of the mythological world-tree Ygdrasil, of the valkyries, of the giant Ymer, of the ship Skidbladner, and adds various other cosmological explanations.
The fifth song is Skirnismál, or För Skirnis (the journey of Skirner). This gives in the form of a dialogue the story of Frey and Gerd, of his love to her, and his wooing her through the agency of his faithful servant Skirner, after whom the song is named.
The sixth is the Lay of Harbard. It is a dialogue between Thor and the ferryman Harbard, who refuses to carry him over the stream. This furnishes an occasion for each of them to recount his exploits. They contrast their deeds and exploits. The contest is continued without interruption until near the end of the poem, where Thor finally offers a compromise, again requesting to be taken over the river. Harbard, who is in fact Odin, again refuses in decided terms. Then Thor asks him to show him another way. This request Harbard seems in a manner to comply with, but refers Thor to Fjorgyn, his mother. Thor asks how far it is, but Harbard makes enigmatical answers. Thor ends the conversation with threats and Harbard with evil wishes.
The seventh poem is the Song of Hymer. The gods of Asgard are invited to a banquet with the sea-god Æger. Thor goes to the giant Hymer for a large kettle, in which to brew ale for the occasion. When Thor has arrived at the home of Hymer he persuades the giant to take him along on a fishing expedition, in which Thor fishes up the Midgard-serpent, which he would have killed had it not been for Hymer, who cut off the fish-line. Thor succeeds in carrying off the kettle, but has to slay Hymer and other giants who pursue him.
The eighth is Lokasenna (or Loke’s quarrel.) This poem has a preface in prose. This is also a banquet at Æger’s. It takes place immediately after Balder’s death. Loke was present. He slew one of Æger’s servants and had to flee to the woods, but soon returns, enters Æger’s hall, and immediately begins to abuse the gods in the most shameful manner: first Brage, then Idun, Gefjun, Odin, Frigg, Freyja, Njord, and the others, until Thor finally appears and drives him away. There is a prose conclusion to this poem, describing Loke’s punishment A profound tragedy characterizes this poem. Although Loke is abusive, he still speaks the truth, and he exposes all the faults of the gods, which foreshadow their final fall. Peace disappeared with the death of Balder, and the gods, conscious that Ragnarok is inevitable, are overpowered by distraction and sorrow.
The ninth poem is the Song of Thrym. This gives an account of the loss of Thor’s hammer, and tells how Loke helped him to get it back from the giant Thrym.
The tenth is the Song of Alvis (the all-wise). Alvis comes for Thor’s daughter as his bride. Thor cunningly detains him all night by asking him questions concerning the various worlds he has visited. Alvis answers and teaches him the names by which the most important things in nature are called in the respective languages of different worlds: of men, of the gods, of the vans, of the giants, of the elves, of the dwarfs, and finally of the realms of the dead and of the supreme god. The dwarf, being one of those mythical objects which cannot endure the light of day, was detained till dawn without accomplishing his object.
The eleventh poem is Vegtam’s Lay. Odin assumes the name Vegtam. In order to arrive at certainty concerning the portentous future of the gods, he descends to Niflheim, goes into the abodes of Hel, and calls the vala up from her grave-mound, asking her about the fate of Balder. She listens to him indignantly, answers his questions unwillingly, but at last discovers that Vegtam is the king of the gods, and angrily tells him to ride home.
We will omit a synopsis of the remainder, and merely give their titles, as they do not enter so completely into the system of mythology as the first eleven: (12) Rigsmaal (Song of Rig), (13) The Lay of Hyndla, (14) The Song of Volund, (15) The Song of Helge Hjorvardson, (16) Song of Helge Hundingsbane I, (17) Song of Helge Hundingsbane II, (18) Song of Sigurd Fafnisbane I, (19) Song of Sigurd Fafnisbane II, (20) Song of Fafner, (21) Song of Sigdrifa, (22) Song of Sigurd, (23) Song of Gudrun I, (24) Song of Gudrun III, (25) Brynhild’s Ride to Hel, (26) Song of Gudrun II, (27) Song of Gudrun III, (28) The Weeping of Odrun, (29) The Song of Atle, (30) The Speech of Atle, (31) The Challenge of Gudrun, (32) The Song of Hamder, (33) The Song of Grotte, (34) Extracts from the Younger Edda, (35) Extracts from the Volsunga Saga, (36) Song of Svipdag I, (37) Song of Svipdag II, (38) The Lay of the Sun, (39) Odin’s Raven-Cry.
The antiquity of these poems cannot be fixed, but they certainly carry us back to the remotest period of the settlement of Norway by the Goths.
It may be added here that many of the poems of the Elder Edda, as well as much of the Old Norse poetry generally, are very difficult to understand, on account of the bold metaphorical language in which they are written. The poet did not call an object by its usual name, but borrowed a figure by which to present it, either from the mythology or from some other source. Thus he would call the sky _the skull of the giant Ymer_; the rainbow he called _the bridge of the gods_; gold was _the tears of Freyja_; poetry, _the present_ or _drink of Odin_. The earth was called indifferently _the wife of Odin_, _the flesh of Ymer_, _the daughter of night_, _the vessel that floats on the ages_, or _the foundation of the air_; herbs and plants were called _the hair_ or _the fleece of the earth_. A battle was called _a bath of blood_, _the hail of Odin_, _the shock of bucklers_; the sea was termed _the field of pirates_, _the girdle of the earth_; ice, _the greatest of all bridges_; a ship, _the horse of the waves_; the tongue, _the sword of words_, etc.
II. The Younger Edda,
written by Snorre Sturleson, the author of the famous _Heimskringla_ (born 1178, died 1241) is mostly prose, and may be regarded as a sort of commentary upon the Elder Edda. The prose Edda consists of two parts: Gylfaginning (the deluding of Gylfe), and the Bragaræður or Skáldskaparmál (the conversations of Brage, the god of poetry, or the treatise on poetry). Gylfaginning tells how the Swedish king Gylfe makes a journey to Asgard, the abode of the gods, where Odin instructs him in the old faith, and gradually relates to him the myths of the Norsemen. The manner in which the whole is told reminds us of _A Thousand and One Nights_, or of poems from a later time, as for instance Boccaccio’s _Decameron_. It is a prose synopsis of the whole Asa faith, with here and there a quotation from the Elder Edda by way of elucidation. It shows a great deal of ingenuity and talent on the part of its author, and is the most perspicuous and clear presentation of the mythology that we possess.
But all the material for the correct presentation of the Norse mythology is not found in the Eddas; or rather we do not perfectly understand the Eddas, if we confine our studies to them alone. For a full comprehension of the myths, it is necessary to study carefully all the semi-mythological Icelandic Sagas, which constitute a respectable library by themselves; and in connection with these we must read the Anglo-Saxon _Beowulf’s Drapa_, and the German _Niebelungen-Lied_. In the next place, we must examine carefully all the folk-lore of the Gothic race, and we must, in short, study the manifestations of the Gothic mind and spirit everywhere: in the development of the State and of the Church, in their poetry and history, in their various languages and numerous dialects, in their literature, in their customs and manners, and in their popular belief. If we neglect all these we shall never understand the Eddas; if we neglect the Eddas we shall never understand the other sources of mythology. They mutually explain each other, and the Gothic race must sooner or later begin to study its own history.
That the Odinic mythology exercised a mighty influence in forming the national character of the Norsemen, becomes evident when we compare the doctrines of their faith with the popular life as portrayed in the Sagas. Still we must bear in mind that this national spirit was not created by this faith. The harsh climate of the North modified not only the Norse mythology, but also moulded indefinitely the national character, and then the two, the mythology and the national character, acted and reacted upon each other. Thus bred up to fight with nature in a constant battle for existence, and witnessing the same struggle in the life of his gods, the Norseman became fearless, honest and truthful, ready to smite and ready to forgive, shrinking not from pain himself and careless about inflicting it on others. Beholding in external nature and in his mythology the struggle of conflicting forces, he naturally looked on life as a field for warfare. The ice-bound fjords and desolate fells, the mournful wail of the waving pine-branches, the stern strife of frost and fire, the annual death of the short-lived summer, made the Norseman sombre, if not gloomy, in his thoughts, and inured him to the rugged independence of the country. The sternness of the land in which he lived was reflected in his character; the latter was in turn reflected in the tales which he told of his gods and heroes, and thus the Norseman and his mythology mutually influenced each other.
The influence of the Asa faith, says Prof. Keyser, upon the popular spirit of the Norsemen, must be regarded from quite another point of view than that of Christianity at a later period. The Asa faith was, so to speak, inborn with the Norsemen, as it had developed itself from certain germs and assumed form with the popular life almost unconsciously to the latter. Christianity, on the other hand, was given to the people as a religious system complete in itself, intended for all the nations of the earth; one which by its own divine power opened for itself a way to conviction, and through that conviction operated on the popular spirit in a direction previously pointed out by the fundamental principles of the religion itself. As the system of the Asa faith arose without any conscious object of affecting the morals, therefore it did not embrace any actual code of morals in the higher sense of this term. The Asa doctrine does not pronounce by positive expression what is virtue and what is vice; it presupposes a consciousness thereof in its votaries. It only represents virtue as reaping its own rewards and vice its own punishment, if not here upon the earth, then with certainty beyond the grave. Thus Keyser.
The Norse system of mythology embodied the doctrine of an imperishable soul in man; it had Valhal and Gimle set apart for and awaiting the brave and virtuous, and Helheim and Naastrand for the wicked.
The moral and social maxims of the Norsemen are represented as being uttered by Odin himself in the Hávamál (high song of Odin), the second song of the Elder Edda, and by the valkyrie Sigdrifa in the Sigrdrífumál (the lay of Sigdrifa), the twenty-first poem of the same work. Read these poems and maxims, and judge whether they will warrant the position repeatedly taken in this work, that the electric spark that has made England and America great and free came not from the aboriginal Britons, not from the Roman enslavers, but must be sought in the prophetic, imaginative and poetic childhood of the Gothic race. Read these poems and judge whether the eminent English writer, Samuel Laing, is right when he says:
All that men hope for of good government and future improvement in their physical and moral condition,—all that civilized men enjoy at this day of civil, religious and political liberty,—the British constitution, representative legislation, the trial by jury, security of property, freedom of mind and person, the influence of public opinion over the conduct of public affairs, the Reformation, the liberty of the press, the spirit of the age,—all that is or has been of value to man in modern times as a member of society, either in Europe or in the New World, may be traced to the spark left burning upon our shores by these northern barbarians.
Read these poems and find truth in the words of Baron Montesquieu, the admirable author of _The Spirit of Laws_ (L’Esprit des Lois), when he says: The great prerogative of Scandinavia, and what ought to recommend its inhabitants beyond every people upon earth, is, that they afforded the great resource to the liberty of Europe, that is, to almost all the liberty that is among men; and when he calls the North the forge of those instruments which broke the fetters manufactured in the South.
In the old Gothic religion were embodied principles and elements which had a tendency to make its votaries brave, independent, honest, earnest, just, charitable, prudent, temperate, liberty-loving, etc.; principles and morals that in due course of time and under favorable circumstances evolved the Republic of Iceland, the Magna Charta of England, and the Declaration of Independence.
The rules of life as indicated by the High Song of Odin and in Sigrdrífumál, in which the valkyrie gives counsel to Sigurd Fafnisbane, are briefly summed up by Professor Keyser as follows:
1. The recognition of the depravity of human nature, which calls for a struggle against our natural desires and forbearance toward the weakness of others.
2. Courage and faith both to bear the hard decrees of the norns and to fight against enemies.
3. The struggle for independence in life with regard to knowledge as well as to fortune; an independence which should, therefore, be earned by a love of learning and industry.
4. A strict adherence to oaths and promises.
5. Candor and fidelity as well as foresight in love, devotion to the tried friend, but dissimulation toward the false and war to the death against the implacable enemy.
6. Respect for old age.
7. Hospitality, liberality, and charity to the poor.
8. A prudent foresight in word and deed.
9. Temperance, not only in the gratification of the senses, but also in the exercise of power.
10. Contentment and cheerfulness.
11. Modesty and politeness in intercourse.
12. A desire to win the good will of our fellow men, especially to surround ourselves with a steadfast circle of devoted kinsmen and faithful friends.
13. A careful treatment of the bodies of the dead.
Listen now to Odin himself, as he gives precepts of wisdom to mankind in
HÁVAMÁL:
1. All door-ways Before going forward, Should be looked to; For difficult it is to know Where foes may sit Within a dwelling
2. Givers, hail! A guest is come in: Where shall he sit? In much haste is he, Who on his ways has To try his luck.
3. Fire is needful To him who is come in, And whose knees are frozen; Food and raiment A man requires Who o’er the fell has traveled.
4. Water to him is needful, Who for refection comes, A towel and hospitable invitation, A good reception; If he can get it, Discourse and answer.
5. Wit is needful To him who travels far: At home all is easy. A laughingstock is he Who nothing knows, And with the instructed sits.[8]
6. Of his understanding No one should be proud, But rather in conduct cautious. When the prudent and taciturn Come to a dwelling, Harm seldom befalls the cautious; For a firmer friend No man ever gets Than great sagacity.
7. A wary guest Who to refection comes Keeps a cautious silence; With his ears listens, And with his eyes observes: So explores every prudent man.
8. He is happy Who for himself obtains Fame and kind words: Less sure is that Which a man must have In another’s breast.
9. He is happy Who in himself possesses Fame and wit while living; For bad counsels Have oft been received From another’s breast.
10. A better burthen No man bears on the way Than much good sense: That is thought better than riches In a strange place; Such is the recourse of the indigent.
11. A worse provision On the way he cannot carry Than too much beer-bibbing; So good is not, As it is said, Beer for the sons of men.
12. A worse provision No man can take from table Than too much beer-bibbing, For the more he drinks The less control he has Of his own mind.
13. Oblivion’s heron ’tis called That over potations hovers; He steals the minds of men. With this bird’s pinions I was fettered In Gunlad’s dwelling.
14. Drunk I was, I was over-drunk, At that cunning Fjalar’s. It’s the best drunkenness When every one after it Regains his reason.
15. Taciturn and prudent, And in war daring Should a king’s children be; Joyous and liberal Everyone should be Until his hour of death.
16. A cowardly man Thinks he will ever live If warfare he avoids; But old age will Give him no peace. Though spears may spare him.
17. A fool gapes When to a house he comes, To himself mutters or is silent; But all at once, If he gets drink, Then is the man’s mind displayed.
18. He alone knows, Who wanders wide And has much experienced, By what disposition Each man is ruled, Who common sense possesses.
19. Let a man hold the cup, Yet of the mead drink moderately, Speak sensibly or be silent. As of a fault No man will admonish thee, If thou goest betimes to sleep.
20. A greedy man, If he be not moderate, Eats to his mortal sorrow. Oftentimes his belly Draws laughter on a silly man Who among the prudent comes.
21. Cattle know When to go home And then from grazing cease; But a foolish man Never knows His stomach’s measure.
22. A miserable man, And ill-conditioned, Sneers at everything: One thing he knows not, Which he ought to know, That he is not free from faults.
23. A foolish man Is all night awake, Pondering over everything; He then grows tired, And when morning comes All is lament as before.
24. A foolish man Thinks all who on him smile To be his friends; He feels it not, Although they speak ill of him, When he sits among the clever.
25. A foolish man Thinks all who speak him fair To be his friends; But he will find, If into court he comes, That he has few advocates.
26. A foolish man Thinks he knows everything If placed in unexpected difficulty; But he knows not What to answer If to the test he is put.
27. A foolish man, Who among people comes, Had best be silent; For no one knows That he knows nothing Unless he talks too much. He who previously knew nothing Will still know nothing, Talk he ever so much.
28. He thinks himself wise Who can ask questions And converse also; Conceal his ignorance No one can, Because it circulates among men.
29. He utters too many Futile words Who is never silent; A garrulous tongue, If it be not checked, Sings often to its own harm.
30. For a gazing-stock No man shall have another, Although he come a stranger to his house. Many a one thinks himself wise, If he is not questioned, And can sit in a dry habit.
31. Clever thinks himself The guest who jeers a guest, If he takes to flight. Knows it not certainly He who prates at meat, Whether he babbles among foes.
32. Many men are mutually Well-disposed, Yet at table will torment each other. That strife will ever be; Guest will guest irritate.
33. Early meals A man should often take, Unless to a friend’s house he goes; Else he will sit and mope, Will seem half famished, And can of few things inquire.
34. Long is and indirect the way To a bad friend’s, Though by the road he dwell; But to a good friend’s The paths lie direct, Though he be far away.
35. A guest should depart, Not always stay In one place: The welcome becomes unwelcome If he too long continues In another’s house.
36. One’s own house is best, Small though it be; At home is every one his own master. Though he but two goats possess, And a straw-thatched cot, Even that is better than begging.
37. One’s own house is best, Small though it be; At home is every one his own master. Bleeding at heart is he Who has to ask For food at every meal-tide.
38. Leaving in the field his arms, Let no man go A foot’s length forward; For it is hard to know When on his way A man may need his weapon.
39. I have never found a man so bountiful Or so hospitable That he refused a present; Or of his property So liberal That he scorned a recompense.
40. Of the property Which he has gained, No man should suffer need; For the hated oft is spared What for the dear was destined: Much goes worse than is expected.
41. With arms and vestments Friends should each other gladden, Those which are in themselves most sightly. Givers and requiters Are longest friends, If all else goes well.
42. To his friend A man should be a friend, And gifts with gifts requite; Laughter with laughter Men should receive, But leasing with lying.
43. To his friend A man should be a friend, To him and to his friend; But of his foe No man shall His friend’s friend be.
44. Know if thou hast a friend Whom thou fully trustest, And from whom thou would’st good derive; Thou should’st blend thy mind with his, And gifts exchange, And often go to see him.
45. If thou hast another Whom thou little trustest, Yet would’st good from him derive, Thou should’st speak him fair, But think craftily, And leasing pay with lying.
46. But of him yet further Whom thou little trustest, And thou suspectest his affection, Before him thou should’st laugh, And contrary to thy thoughts speak; Requital should the gift resemble.
47. I once was young, I was journeying alone And lost my way; Rich I thought myself When I met another: Man is the joy of man.
48. Liberal and brave Men live best, They seldom cherish sorrow; But a bare-minded man Dreads everything; The niggardly is uneasy even at gifts.
49. My garments in a field I gave away To two wooden men: Heroes they seemed to be When they got cloaks:[9] Exposed to insult is a naked man.
50. A tree withers That on a hill-top stands; Protects it neither bark nor leaves: Such is the man Whom no one favors: Why should he live long?
51. Hotter than fire Love for five days burns Between false friends; But is quenched When the sixth day comes, And friendship is all impaired.
52. Something great Is not always to be given, Praise is often for a trifle bought With half a loaf And a tilted vessel I got myself a comrade.
53. Little are the sand grains, Little the wits, Little the minds of men; For all men Are not wise alike: Men are everywhere by halves.
54. Moderately wise Should each one be, But never over-wise; For a wise man’s heart Is seldom glad, If he is all-wise who owns it.
55. Moderately wise Should each one be, But never over-wise: Of those men The lives are fairest Who know much well.
56. Moderately wise Should each one be, But never over-wise; His destiny let know No man beforehand; His mind will be freest from care.
57. Brand burns from brand Until it is burnt out, Fire is from fire quickened: Man to man Becomes known by speech, But a fool by his bashful silence.
58. He should rise early Who another’s property or life Desires to have: Seldom a sluggish wolf Gets prey, Or a sleeping man victory.
59. Early should rise He who has few workers. And go his work to see to; Greatly is he retarded Who sleeps the morn away. Wealth half depends on energy.
60. Of dry planks And roof shingles A man knows the measure; Of the firewood That may suffice Both measure and time.
61. Washed and refected Let a man ride to _Thing_,[10] Although his garments be not too good; Of his shoes and breeches Let no one be ashamed, Nor of his horse, Although he have not a good one.
62. Inquire and impart Should every man of sense, Who will be accounted sage. Let one only know, A second may not; If three, all the world knows.
63. Gasps and gapes, When to the sea he comes, The eagle over old ocean; So is a man Who among many comes, And has few advocates.
64. His power should Every sagacious man Use with discretion, For he will find, When among the bold he comes, That no one alone is doughtiest.
65. Circumspect and reserved Every man should be, And wary in trusting friends; Of the words That a man says to another He often pays the penalty.
66. Much too early I came to many places, But too late to others; The beer was drunk, Or not ready: The disliked seldom hits the moment.
67. Here and there I should Have been invited If I a meal had needed; Or two hams had hung At that true friend’s Where of one I had eaten.
68. Fire is best Among the sons of men, And the sight of the sun, If his health A man can have, With a life free from vice.
69. No man lacks everything, Although his health be bad. One in his sons is happy, One in his kin, One in abundant wealth, One in his good works.
70. It is better to live, Even to live miserably; A living man can always get a cow. I saw fire consume The rich man’s property, And death stood without his door.
71. The halt can ride on horseback. The one-handed drive cattle; The deaf, fight and be useful: To be blind is better Than to be burnt:[11] No one gets good from a corpse.
72. A son is better Even if born late, After his father’s departure. Gravestones seldom Stand by the way-side Unless raised by a kinsman to a kinsman.
73. Two are adversaries: The tongue is the bane of the head: Under every cloak I expect a hand.
74. At night is joyful He who is sure of traveling entertainment; A ship’s yards are short; Variable is an autumn night, Many are the weather’s changes In five days, But more in a month.
75. He knows not, Who knows nothing, That many a one apes another, One man is rich, Another poor: Let him not be thought blameworthy.
76. Cattle die, Kindred die, We ourselves also die; But the fair fame Never dies Of him who has earned it.
77. Cattle die, Kindred die, We ourselves also die; But I know one thing That never dies,— Judgment on each one dead.
78. Full storehouses I saw At Dives’ sons’: Now bear they the beggar’s staff. Such are riches, As is the twinkling of an eye: Of friends they are most fickle.
79. A foolish man, If he acquires Wealth or woman’s love, Pride grows within him, But wisdom never: He goes on more and more arrogant.
80. Thus ’t is made manifest, If of runes thou questionest him, Those to the high ones known, Which the great powers invented, And the great talker[12] painted, That he had best hold silence.
81. At eve the day is to be praised, A woman after she is burnt,[13] A sword after it is proved, A maid after she is married, Ice after it has been crossed, Beer after it is drunk.
82. In the wind one should hew wood, In a breeze row out to sea, In the dark talk with a lass, Many are the eyes of day. In a ship voyages are to be made, But a shield is for protection, A sword for striking, But a damsel for a kiss.
83. By the fire one should drink beer, On the ice slide; Buy a horse that is lean, A sword that is rusty; Feed a horse at home, But a dog at the farm.
84. In a maiden’s words No one should place faith, Nor in what a woman says; For on a turning wheel Have their hearts been formed, And guile in their breasts been laid.
85. In a creaking bow, A burning flame, A yawning wolf, A chattering crow, A grunting swine, A rootless tree, A waxing wave, A boiling kettle,
86. A flying dart, A falling billow, A one night’s ice, A coiled serpent, A woman’s bed-talk Or a broken sword, A bear’s play Or a royal child,
87. A sick calf, A self-willed thrall, A flattering prophetess, A corpse newly slain, A serene sky, A laughing lord, A barking dog And a harlot’s grief,
88. An early-sown field, Let no one trust, Nor prematurely in a son: Weather rules the field, And wit the son, Each of which is doubtful.
89. A brother’s murderer, Though on the high-road met, A half-burnt house, An over-swift horse (A horse is useless If a leg be broken): No man is so confiding As to trust any of these.
90. Such is the love of women, Who falsehood meditate, As if one drove not rough-shod On slippery ice, A spirited two-year-old And unbroken horse; Or as in a raging storm A helmless ship is beaten; Or as if the halt were set to catch A reindeer in the thawing fell.[14]
91. Openly I now speak, Because I both sexes know; Unstable are men’s minds toward women; ’Tis then we speak most fair, When we most falsely think: That deceives even the cautious.
92. Fair shall speak, And money offer, Who would obtain a woman’s love Praise the form Of a fair damsel; He gets, who courts her.
93. At love should no one Ever wonder In another: A beauteous countenance Oft captivates the wise, Which captivates not the foolish.
94. Let no one wonder at Another’s folly, It is the lot of many. All-powerful desire Makes of the sons of men Fools even of the wise.
95. The mind only knows What lies near the heart; That alone is conscious of our affections No disease is worse To a sensible man Than not to be content with himself.
96. That I experienced When in the reeds I sat Awaiting my delight. Body and soul to me Was that discreet maiden; Nevertheless I possess her not.
97. Billing’s lass On her couch I found, Sun-bright, sleeping. A prince’s joy To me seemed naught, If not with that form to live.
98. Yet nearer eve Must thou, Odin, come, she said, If thou wilt talk the maiden over; All will be disastrous Unless we alone Are privy to such misdeed.
99. I returned, Thinking to love At her wise desire; I thought I should obtain Her whole heart and love.
100. When next I came, The bold warriors were All awake, With lights burning, And bearing torches:
101. But at the approach of morn, When again I came, The household all was sleeping; The good damsel’s dog Alone I found Tied to the bed.
102. Many a fair maiden, When rightly known, Toward men is fickle: That I experienced When that discreet maiden I decoyed into danger: Contumely of every kind That wily girl Heaped upon me; Nor of that damsel gained I aught.
103. At home let a man be cheerful, And toward a guest liberal; Of wise conduct he should be, Of good memory and ready speech; If much knowledge he desires, He must often talk on what is good. Fimbulfambi he is called Who little has to say: Such is the nature of the simple.
104. The old giant I sought; Now I am come back: Little got I there by silence; In many words I spoke to my advantage In Suttung’s halls.[15]
105. Gunlad gave me, On her golden seat, A draught of the precious mead; A bad recompense I afterwards made her For her whole soul, Her fervent love.
106. Rate’s mouth I caused To make a space, And to gnaw the rock; Over and under me Were the giant’s ways: Thus I my head did peril.
107. Of a well assumed form I made good use: Few things fail the wise, For Odrærer is now come up To men’s earthly dwellings.
108. ’Tis to me doubtful, That I could have come From the giant’s courts, Had not Gunlad aided me,— That good damsel Over whom I laid my arm.
109. On the day following Came the frost-giants To learn something of the High One In the High One’s hall; After Bolverk they inquired, Whether he with the gods were come, Or Suttung had destroyed him.
110. Odin I believe A ring-oath[16] gave. Who in his faith will trust? defrauded, Of his drink bereft, And Gunlad made to weep!
111. Time ’t is to discourse From the speaker’s chair. By the well of Urd I silent sat, I saw and meditated, I listened to men’s words.
112. Of runes I heard discourse, And of things divine, Nor of risting[17] them were they silent, Nor of sage counsels, At the High One’s hall. In the High One’s hall I thus heard say:
113. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Rise not at night, Unless to explore, Or art compelled to go out.
114. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. In an enchantress’ embrace Thou mayest not sleep, So that in her arms she clasp thee.
115. She will be the cause That thou carest not For _Thing_ or prince’s words; Food thou wilt shun And human joys; Sorrowful wilt thou go to sleep.
116. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, it thou takest it. Another’s wife Entice thou never To secret converse.
117. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. By fell or firth If thou have to travel, Provide thee well with food.
118. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. A bad man Let thou never Know thy misfortunes; For from a bad man Thou never wilt obtain A return for thy good will.
119. I saw mortally Wound a man A wicked woman’s words; A false tongue Caused his death, And most unrighteously.
120. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. If thou knowest thou hast a friend, Whom thou well canst trust, Go oft to visit him; For with brushwood overgrown And with high grass Is the way that no one treads.
121. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. A good man attract to thee In pleasant converse, And salutary speech learn, while thou livest.
122. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. With thy friend Be thou never First to quarrel. Care gnaws the heart, If thou to no one canst Thy whole mind disclose.
128. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Words thou never Shouldst exchange With a witless fool.
124. For from an ill-conditioned man Thou wilt never get A return for good; But a good man will Bring thee favor By his praise.
125. There is a mingling of affection, Where one can tell Another all his mind. Everything is better Than being with the deceitful. He is not another’s friend Who ever says as he says.
126. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Even in three words Quarrel not with a worse man: Often the better yields, When the worse strikes.
127. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Be not a shoemaker Nor a shaftmaker, Unless for thyself it be: For a shoe, if ill made, Or a shaft if crooked, Will call down evil on thee.
128. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Wherever of injury thou knowest, Regard that injury as thy own; And give to thy foes no peace.
129. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Rejoiced at evil Be thou never, But let good give thee pleasure.
130. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. In a battle Look not up,[18] (Like swine[19] The sons of men then become), That men may not fascinate thee.
131. If thou wilt induce a good woman To pleasant converse, Thou must promise fair, And hold to it: No one turns from good, if it can be got.
132. I enjoin thee to be wary, But not over-wary; At drinking be thou most wary, And with another’s wife; And thirdly, That thieves delude thee not.
133. With insult or derision Treat thou never A guest or wayfarer; They often little know, Who sit within, Of what race they are who come.
134. Vices and virtues The sons of mortals bear In their breasts mingled; No one is so good That no failing attends him, Nor so bad as to be good for nothing.
135. At a hoary speaker Laugh thou never, Often is good that which the aged utter; Oft from a shriveled hide Discreet words issue, From those whose skin is pendent And decked with scars, And who go loitering among the vile.
136. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou wilt profit, if thou takest it. Rail not at a guest, Nor from thy gate thrust him; Treat well the indigent, They will speak well of thee.
137. Strong is the bar That must be raised To admit all.[20] Do thou give a penny, Or they will call down on thee Every ill on thy limbs.
138. I counsel thee, Lodfafner, To take advice; Thou will profit, if thou takest it. Wherever thou beer drinkest, Invoke to thee the power of earth; For earth is good against drink, Fire for distempers, The oak for constipation, A corn-ear for sorcery, A hall for domestic strife. In bitter hates invoke the moon; The bitter for bite-injuries is good, But runes against calamity; Fluid let earth absorb.
This is all of the famous Hávamál of the Elder Edda except the so-called Runic Chapter, which will be given in the second part in connection with the myth of Odin. Hear now what the valkyrie has to say to Sigurd Fafnisbane in
SIGRDRÍFUMÁL (_the Lay of Sigdrifa_).
Sigurd rode up the Hindarfiall, and directed his course southward toward Frankland. In the fell he saw a great light, as if a fire were burning, which blazed up to the sky. On approaching it, there stood a _skialdborg_, and over it a banner. Sigurd went into the skialdborg, and saw a warrior lying within it asleep, completely armed. He first took the helmet off the warrior’s head, and saw that it was a woman. Her corselet was as fast as if it had grown to her body. With his sword, Gram, he ripped the corselet from the upper opening downwards, and then through both sleeves. He then took the corselet off from her, when she awoke, sat up, and, on seeing Sigurd, said:
1. What has my corselet cut? Why from my sleep have I started? Who has cast from me The fallow bands?
SIGURD:
1. Sigmund’s son (Recently did the raven Feed on carrion)[21] And Sigurd’s sword.
SHE:
2. Long have I slept, Long been with sleep oppressed, Long are mortals’ sufferings! Odin is the cause That I have been unable To cast off torpor.
Sigurd sat down and asked her name. She then took a horn filled with mead, and gave him the _minnis-cup_ (cup of memory).
SHE:
3. Hail to Day! Hail to the sons of Day! To Night and her daughter, hail! With placid eyes Behold us here, And here sitting give us victory.
4. Hail to the gods! Hail to the goddesses! Hail to the bounteous earth! Words and wisdom Give to us noble twain, And healing hands while we live.
She was named Sigdrifa, and was a valkyrie. She said that two kings had made war on each other, one of whom was named Hialmgunnar; he was old and a great warrior, and Odin had promised him victory. The other was Agnar, a brother of Aud, whom no divinity would patronize. Sigdrifa overcame Hialmgunnar in battle; in revenge for which Odin pricked her with a sleep-thorn, and declared that thenceforth she should never have victory in battle, and should be given in marriage. But, said she, I said to him that I had bound myself by a vow not to espouse any man who could be made to fear. Sigurd answers, and implores her to teach him wisdom, as she had intelligence from all worlds:
SIGDRIFA:
5. Beer I bear to thee, Column of battle! With might mingled, And with bright glory: ’Tis full of song, And salutary saws, Of potent incantations, And joyous discourses.
6. Sig-runes thou must know, If victory (_sigr_) thou wilt have, And on thy sword’s hilt rist them; Some on the chapes, Some on the guard, And twice name the name of Tyr.
7. Öl-(ale-)runes thou must know, If thou wilt not that another’s wife Thy trust betray, if thou In her confide. On the horn must they be risted, And on the hand’s back, And Naud[22] on the nail be scored.
8. A cup must be blessed, And against peril guarded, And garlick in the liquor cast; Then I know Thou wilt never have Mead with treachery mingled.
9. Biarg-(help-)runes thou must know, If thou wilt help And loose the child from women; In the palm they must be graven, And round the joints be clasped, And the dises prayed for aid.
10. Brim-(sea-)runes thou must know, If thou wilt have secure Afloat thy sailing steeds. On the prow they must be risted, And on the helm-blade, And with fire to the oar applied. No surge shall be so towering, Nor waves so dark, But from the ocean thou safe shalt come,
11. Lim-(branch-)runes thou must know. If thou a leech would be, And wounds know how to heal. On the bark they must be risted, And on the leaves of trees, Of those whose boughs bend eastward.
12. Mál-(speech-)runes thou must know, If thou wilt that no one For injury with hate requite thee. Those thou must wind, Those thou must wrap round, Those thou must altogether place In the assembly, Where people have Into full court to go.
13. Hug-(thought-)runes thou must know, If thou a wiser man wilt be Than every other. Those interpreted, Those risted, Those devised Hropt,[23] From the fluid Which had leaked From Heiddraupner’s[24] head, And from Hoddropner’s horn.
14. On a rock he stood, With edged sword, A helm on his head he bore. Then spake Mimer’s head Its first wise word, And true sayings uttered.
15. They are, it is said, On the shield risted Which stands before the shining god, On Aarvak’s[25] ear, And on Alsvinn’s hoof, On the wheel which rolls Under Rogner’s[26] car, On Sleipner’s teeth, And on the sledge’s bands.
16. On the bear’s paw, And on Brage’s tongue, On the wolf’s claws, And the eagle’s beak, On bloody wings, And on the bridge’s end, On the releasing hand. And on healing’s track.
17. On glass and on gold, On amulets of men, In wine and in ale, And in the welcome seat, On Gungner’s point, And on Grane’s breast, On the norn’s nail, And the owl’s neb.
18. All were erased That were inscribed, And mingled with the sacred mead, And sent on distant ways; They are with the gods, They are with the elves; Some with the wise vans, Some human beings have.
19. Those are bôk-runes Those are biarg-runes, And all öl-(ale-)runes, And precious megin-(power-)runes For those who can, Without confusion or corruption, Turn them to his welfare. Use, if thou hast understood them, Until the powers perish.
20. Now thou shalt choose, Since a choice is offered thee, Keen armed warrior! My speech or silence: Think over it in thy mind. All evils have their measure.
SIGURD:
21. I will not flee, Though thou shouldst know me doomed: I am not born a craven. Thy friendly councils all I will receive, As long as life is in me.
SIGDRIFA:
22. This I thee counsel first: That toward thy kin Thou bear thee blameless. Take not hasty vengeance, Although they raise up strife: That, it is said, benefits the dead.
23. This I thee counsel secondly: That no oath thou swear, If it not be true. Cruel bonds Follow broken faith: Accursed is the faith-breaker.
24. This I thee counsel thirdly: That in the assembly thou Contend not with a fool; For an unwise man Oft utters words Worse than he knows of.
25. All is vain, If thou holdest silence; Then wilt thou seem a craven born, Or else truly accused. Doubtful is a servant’s testimony, Unless a good one thou gettest. On the next day Let his life go forth, And so men’s lies reward.
26. This I counsel thee fourthly: If a wicked sorceress Dwell by the way, To go on is better Than there to lodge, Though night may overtake thee.
27. Of searching eyes The sons of men have need, When fiercely they have to fight: Oft pernicious women By the wayside sit, Who swords and valor deaden.
28. This I thee counsel fifthly: Although thou see fair women On the benches sitting, Let not their kindred’s silver[27] Over thy sleep have power. To kiss thee entice no woman.
29. This I thee counsel sixthly: Although among men pass Offensive tipsy talk, Never, while drunken, quarrel With men of war: Wine steals the wits of many.
30. Brawls and drink To many men have been A heart-felt sorrow; To some their death, To some calamity: Many are the griefs of men!
31. This I thee counsel seventhly: If thou hast disputes With a daring man, Better it is for men To fight than to be burnt Within their dwelling.
32. This I thee counsel eighthly: That thou guard thee against evil, And eschew deceit. Entice no maiden, Nor wife of man, Nor to wantonness incite.
33. This I thee counsel ninthly: That thou corpses bury, Wherever on the earth thou findest them; Whether from sickness they have died, Or from the sea, Or are from weapons dead.
34. Let a mound be raised For those departed; Let their hands and head be washed, Combed, and wiped dry, Ere in the coffin they are laid; And pray for their happy sleep.
35. This I thee counsel tenthly: That thou never trust A foe’s kinsman’s promises, Whose brother thou hast slain, Or sire laid low: There is a wolf In a young son, Though he with gold be gladdened.
36. Strifes and fierce enmities Think not to be lulled, No more than deadly injury. Wisdom and fame in arms A prince not easily acquires, Who shall of men be foremost.
37. This I counsel thee eleventhly: That thou at evil look, What course it may take. A long life, it seems to me, The prince may [not] enjoy; Fierce disputes will arise.
Sigurd said: A wiser mortal exists not, and I swear that I will possess thee, for thou art after my heart. She answered: Thee I will have before all others, though I have to choose among all men. And this they confirmed with oaths to each other.
Here ends the lay of Sigdrifa.
The reader may find some of these rules of _Hávamál_ and _Sigrdrífumál_ somewhat inconsistent with our ideas of a supreme deity; but are not many of these principles laid down in the Odinic morality worthy of a Christian age and of a Christian people, and do they not all reveal a profound knowledge of human nature in all its various phases?
These rules of life, says Professor Keyser, were variously understood, and as variously carried out into practice. But on the whole we find them reflected in the popular character of the Norsemen, such as history teaches it to us during heathendom. Bravery, prudence, and a love of independence are its brightest features, although bravery often degenerated into warrior fierceness, prudence into dissimulation, and the love of independence into self-will. If on the one hand we find a noble self-command, devoted faithfulness in friendship and love, noble-hearted hospitality and generosity, a love of right and of legal order, we also see on the other hand, unyielding stubbornness, a fierce spirit of revenge, a repulsive arrogance, a far-reaching self-interest, and an excessive dependence upon the formalities of the law. A cold and unmoved exterior often concealed a soul torn by the bitterest grief, or stirred up by the wildest passions. A passionate outburst of joy or of grief was considered undignified. Few words, but energetic action, was esteemed in conduct, and complaint was silenced in order that vengeance could strike the more surely and heavily. Under a tranquil, indifferent mien were concealed the boldest and most deep-laid plans, and the real intention first came to light in the decisive moment. On the whole, there was certainly an impress of rigidity, insensibility and self-goodness stamped upon the popular character, but this stamp was more upon the outside than in its innermost character, more the result of inordinate prudence than of an evil disposition; and through all its failings there shines forth a dignity of soul which ennobled power and held up glory in this life and in after ages as the highest object of human undertakings.[28]
The part assigned to the Norsemen in the grand drama of European history was to free the human mind from the Cæsarian thraldom of Rome, in which it had so long been chained; to show what marvels self-government and free institutions can accomplish, and thus hand down to us, their descendants, a glorious heritage of imperishable principles, which we must study and in a great measure be guided by.
We retain in the days of the week the remembrance of this religion, which was brought to England more than fourteen hundred years ago by the Goths, who came to give that country a new name and a new fate in the world. The Goths taught the people of Britain to divide tho week into their _Sun_-day, _Moon_-day, _Tys_-day, _Odin’s_-day, _Thor’s_-day, and _Frey’s_ or _Freyja’s_-day. The name of Saturday the English owe to the Roman god Saturnus; but the last day of the week was known among the early Norsemen, and is still known among them, as _Laugar_-dag, _Lör_-dag, that is _Washing_-day. It is possible, as E. C. Otté quaintly remarks, that our Anglo-Saxon forefathers may have wished to change this name when, in later times, they had ceased to have only _one_ washing-day out of the seven, like their northers ancestors.
We are now prepared to present the Norse mythology, and we shall divide it into three divisions: THE CREATION AND PRESERVATION, THE LIFE AND EXPLOITS OF THE GODS, and RAGNAROK AND REGENERATION. These three divisions we dedicate respectively to URD, VERDANDE, and SKULD, the three norns, WAS, IS, and SHALL BE, which uphold the world’s structure and preside over the destinies of gods and men.
Footnote 8:
Beowulf, 1839.
Footnote 9:
The tailor makes the man.
Footnote 10:
The public assembly.
Footnote 11:
That is, _dead_ on the funeral pile.
Footnote 12:
Odin.
Footnote 13:
Dead.
Footnote 14:
Such lines as this show the _Norse_ origin of the Edda.
Footnote 15:
For the story of Suttung and Gunlad, see second part, pp. 246-253.
Footnote 16:
In the North a holy oath was taken on a ring kept in the temple for that purpose.
Footnote 17:
Carving: runes are risted = runes are carved.
Footnote 18:
In a battle we must not look up, but forward.
Footnote 19:
To become panic-stricken, which the Norsemen called to become swine.
Footnote 20:
The meaning is, it is difficult to show hospitality to everybody. A door would have to be strong to stand so much opening and shutting.
Footnote 21:
The parenthesis refers to Fafner’s death.
Footnote 22:
The name of a rune; our _N_.
Footnote 23:
Odin.
Footnote 24:
Mimer.
Footnote 25:
The horses of the sun.
Footnote 26:
Odin.
Footnote 27:
Which thou mightest get by marriage.
Footnote 28:
_Religion of the Northmen_, chap. xvii.
NORSE MYTHOLOGY.
Urðar orði kveðr engi maðr. Vafin er Verðandi reyk. Lítið sjáum aptr, en ekki fram; skyggir Skuld fyrir sjón.
MATTHIAS JOCHUMSON.