CHAPTER I.

ODIN.

SECTION I. ODIN.

The first and eldest of the asas is Odin. His name is derived from the verb _vada_ (imperfect _ód_), to walk, (compare watan, wuot, wuth, wüthen, wuothan, wodan). He is the all-_pervading_ spirit of the world, and produces life and spirit (_önd_, _aand_). He does not create the world, but arranges and governs it. With Vile and Ve he makes heaven and earth from Ymer’s body; with Hœner and Loder he makes the first man and woman, and he gives them spirit. All enterprise in peace and in war proceeds from him. He is the author of war and the inventor of poetry. All knowledge comes from him and he is the inventor of the runes. As the spirit of life he permeates all animate and inanimate matter, the whole universe; he is the infinite wanderer. He governs all things, and although the other deities are powerful they all serve and obey him as children do their father. He confers many favors on gods and men. As it is said in the Elder Edda, in the lay of Hyndla:

FREYJA.

Wake maid of maids! Wake, my friend! Hyndla! Sister, Who in the cavern dwellest. Now there is dark of darks; We will both to Valhal ride And to the holy fane.

Let us Odin pray Into our minds to enter; He gives and grants Gold to the deserving. He gave Hermod A helm and corselet, And from him Sigmund A sword received.

Victory to his sons he gives, But to some riches; Eloquence to the great And to men wit; Fair wind he gives to traders, But visions to skalds; Valor he gives To many a warrior.

Especially are the heroes constantly the object of his care. He guides and protects the brave hero through his whole life; he watches over his birth and over his whole development; gives him wonderful weapons, teaches him new arts of war; assists him in critical emergencies, accompanies him in war, and takes the impetus out of the enemy’s javelins; and when the warrior has at last grown old, he provides that he may not die upon his bed, but fall in honorable combat. Finally, he protects the social organization and influences the human mind. He revenges murder, protects the sanctity of the oath, subdues hatred, and dispels anxieties and sorrows.

SECTION II. ODIN’S NAMES.

Odin is called Allfather, because he is the father of all the gods, and Valfather (father of the slain), because he chooses for his sons all who fall in combat. For their abode he has prepared Valhal and Vingolf, where they are called einherjes (heroes). In Asgard, Odin has twelve names, but in the Younger Edda forty-nine names are enumerated, and if to these are added all the names by which the poets have called him, the number will reach nearly two hundred. The reason for his many names, says the Younger Edda, is the great variety of languages. For the various nations were obliged to translate his name into their respective tongues in order that they might supplicate and worship him. Some of his names, however, are owing to adventures that have happened to him on his journeys and which are related in old stories. No one can pass for a wise man who is not able to give an account of these wonderful adventures.

SECTION III. ODIN’S OUTWARD APPEARANCE.

In appearance, Odin is an old, tall, one-eyed man with a long beard, a broad-brimmed hat, a striped cloak of many colors, and a spear in his hand. On his arm he wears the gold ring Draupner, two ravens sit on his shoulders, two wolves lie at his feet, and a huge chariot rolls above his head. He sits upon a high throne and looks out upon the world, or he rides on the winds upon his horse Sleipner. There is a deep speculative expression on his countenance. In the Volsung Saga, Odin is revealed as follows: King Volsung had made preparations for an entertainment. Blazing fires burned along the hall, and in the middle of the hall stood a large tree, whose green and fair foliage covered the roof. (This reminds us of Ygdrasil.) King Volsung had placed it there, and it was called Odin’s tree. Now as the guests sat around the fire in the evening, a man entered the hall whose countenance they did not know. He wore a variegated cloak, was bare-footed, his breeches were of linen, and a wide-brimmed hat hung down over his face. He was very tall, looked old, and was one-eyed. He had a sword in his hand. The man went to the tree, struck his sword into it with so powerful a blow that it sunk into it even to the hilt. No one dared greet this man. Then said he: He who draws this sword out of the trunk of the tree shall have it as a gift from me, and shall find it true that he never wielded a better sword. Then went the old man out of the hall again, and no one knew who he was or whither he went. Now all tried to draw the sword out, but it would not move, before Volsung’s son, Sigmund, came; for him it seemed to be quite loose. Farther on in the Saga Sigmund had become king, and had already grown old when he waged war with King Lynge. The norns protected him so that he could not be wounded. In a battle with Lynge there came a man to Sigmund, wearing a large hat and blue cloak. He had but one eye, and had a spear in his hand. The man swung his spear against Sigmund. Sigmund’s sword broke in two, luck had left him, and he fell. The same Saga afterwards tells us that Sigmund’s son, Sigurd, sailed against the sons of Hunding, on a large dragon. A storm arose, but Sigurd commanded that the sails should not be taken down, even though the wind should split them, but rather be hoisted higher. As they passed a rocky point, a man cried to the ship and asked who was the commander of the ships and men. They answered that it was Sigurd Sigmundson, the bravest of all young men. The man said, all agree in praising him; take in the sails and take me on board! They asked him for his name. He answered: Hnikar they called me, when I gladdened the raven after the battle; call me now Karl, from the mountain, Fengr or Fjolner, but take me on board! They laid to and took him on board. The storm ceased and they sailed until they came to the sons of Hunding; then Fjolner (Odin) disappeared. In the same Saga he also comes to Sigurd in the garb of an old man with long flowing beard, and teaches him how to dig ditches by which to capture Fafner.

SECTION IV. ODIN’S ATTRIBUTES.

Odin’s hat represents the arched vault of heaven, and his blue or variegated cloak is the blue sky or atmosphere, and both these symbolize protection.

Odin’s ravens, Hugin (reflection) and Munin (memory), have been mentioned before. They are perched upon his shoulders and whisper into his ears what they see and hear. He sends them out at daybreak to fly over the world, and they come back at eve toward meal-time. Hence it is that Odin knows so much and is called Rafnagud (raven-god). Most beautifully does Odin express himself about these ravens in Grimner’s lay, in the Elder Edda:

Hugin and Munin Fly each day Over the spacious earth. I fear for Hugin That he come not back, Yet more anxious am I for Munin.

And in Odin’s Raven-song, Hug (Hugin) goes forth to explore the heavens. Odin’s mind, then, is the flying raven; he is the spiritual ruler.

Odin has two wolves, Gere and Freke (the greedy one and the voracious one). Odin gives the meat that is set on his table to these two wolves; for he himself stands in no need of food. Wine is for him both meat and drink. Thus the Elder Edda, in Grimner’s lay:

Gere and Freke Feeds the war-faring, Triumphant father of hosts; For ’tis with wine only That Odin in arms renowned Is nourished forever.

To meet a wolf is a good omen. Odin amusing himself with his wolves is an exquisite theme for the sculptor.

Odin had a ring called Draupner. We find its history in the conversations of Brage, the second part of the Younger Edda. Loke had once out of malice cut all the hair off Sif, the wife of Thor. But when Thor found this out he seized Loke and would have crushed every bone in him if he had not sworn to get the elves of darkness to make golden hair for Sif, that would grow like other hair. Then went Loke to the dwarfs, that are called Ivald’s sons, and they made the hair, and Skidbladner (Frey’s ship), and the spear that Odin owned and is called Gungner. Then Loke wagered his head with the dwarf, whose name is Brok, that his brother, Sindre, would not be able to make three more treasures as good as those three just named. The brothers went to the smithy. Sindre put a pig-skin in the furnace and bade Brok blow the bellows and not stop before Sindre took that out of the furnace which he had put into it. A fly set itself on Brok’s hand and stung him, but still he continued blowing the bellows, and that which Sindre took out was a boar with golden bristles. Then Sindre put gold into the furnace. This time the fly set itself on Brok’s neck, and stung him worse, but he continued blowing the bellows, and that which the smith took out was the gold ring Draupner (from the verb meaning _to drop_). The third time Sindre put iron in the furnace, and bade his brother be sure to continue blowing or all would be spoiled. Now the fly set itself between his eyes and stung his eye-lids. The blood ran down into his eyes, so that he could not see; then Brok let go of the bellows just for a moment to drive the fly away. That which the smith now took out was a hammer. Sindre gave his brother these treasures and bade him go to Asgard to fetch the wager. As now Loke and Brok came each with his treasures, the asas seated themselves upon their thrones and held consult, and Odin, Thor and Frey were appointed judges who should render a final decision. Then Loke gave Odin the spear, which never would miss its mark; Thor he gave the hair, which immediately grew fast upon Sif’s head; and to Frey he gave the ship, which always got fair wind as soon as the sails were hoisted, no matter where its captain was going, and it could also be folded as a napkin and put into the pocket, if this were desirable. Thereupon Brok came forward and gave Odin the ring, and said that every ninth night a ring equally heavy would drop from it. To Frey he gave the boar, and said that it could run in the air and on the sea, night and day, faster than any horse, and the night never was so dark, nor the other worlds so gloomy, but that it would be light where this boar was present, so bright shone its bristles. To Thor he gave the hammer, and said that with it he might strike as large an object as he pleased; it would never fail, and when he threw it he should not be afraid of losing it, for no matter how far it flew it would always return into his hand, and at his wish it would become so small that he might conceal it in his bosom, but it had one fault, and that was that the handle was rather short. According to the decision of the gods, the hammer was the best of all the treasures, and especially as a protection against the frost-giants; they accordingly decided that the dwarf had won the wager. The latter now wanted Loke’s head. Loke offered to redeem it in some way, but the dwarf would accept no alternatives. Well take me then, said Loke, and in a moment he was far away, for he had shoes with which he could run through the air and over the sea. Then the dwarf asked Thor to seize him, which was done; but when the dwarf wanted to cut his head off, Loke said: The head is yours, but not the neck.[35] Then took the dwarf thread and knife and wanted to pierce Loke’s lips, so as to sew his lips together, but the knife was not sharp enough. Now it were well, if I had my brother’s awl, said he, and instantaneously the awl was there, and it was sharp. Then the dwarf sewed Loke’s lips together. (The dwarfs are here represented as smiths of the gods.)

The ring Draupner is a symbol of fertility. Odin placed this ring on Balder’s funeral pile and it was burnt with Balder (the summer), and when Balder sent this ring back to Odin, his wife, the flower-goddess Nanna, sent Frigg, the wife of Odin, a carpet (of grass), which represents the return of vegetation and fruitfulness. Balder sends the ring back as a memento of the fair time when he and his father (Odin) worked together, and reminds the father of all, that he must continue to bless the earth and make it fruitful. But this is not all; this ring also symbolizes the fertility of the mind, the creative power of the poet, the evolution of one thought from the other, the wonderful chain of thought. The rings fell from Draupner as drop falls from drop. Ideas do not cling fast to their parent, but live an independent life when they are born; and the idea or thought, when once awakened, does not slumber, but continues to grow and develop in man after man, in generation after generation, evolving constantly new ideas until it has grown into a unique system of thought. If we, as our fathers undoubtedly did, make this gold ring typify the historical connection between times and events, a ring constantly multiplying and increasing with ring interlinked with ring in time’s onward march, what a beautiful golden chain there has been formed from time’s morning until now!

Odin had a spear called Gungner. The word means producing a violent shaking or trembling, and it most thoroughly shook whomsoever was hit by it. As has been seen above, it was made by the sons of Ivald (the dwarfs), and was presented to Odin by Loke. Odin speeds forth to the field of battle with golden helmet, resplendent armor, and his spear Gungner. Oath was taken on the point of Gungner. This spear is frequently referred to in the semi-mythological Sagas, where spears are seen flying over the heads of the enemy; they are panic-stricken and defeated. Spears are sometimes seen as meteorical phenomena, showing that war is impending. The spear symbolizes Odin’s strength and power. When Odin’s spear was thrown over anybody, Odin thereby marked him as his own. Did not Odin wound himself with a spear, and thereby consecrate himself to heaven? (See pp. 254-261.) When Odin puts the spear into the hands of the warrior, it means that he awakens and directs his deeds of valor. When Odin is the god of poetry and eloquence (Anglo-Saxon _wód_), then the spear Gungner is the keen, stinging satire that can be expressed in poetry and oratory.

Odin’s horse Sleipner (slippery) was the most excellent horse. Runes were carved on his teeth. The following myth gives us an account of his birth: When the gods were constructing their abodes, and had already finished Midgard and Valhal, a certain artificer came and offered to build them, in the space of three half years, a residence so well fortified that they should be perfectly safe from the incursions of the frost-giants and the giants of the mountains, even though they should have penetrated within Midgard. But he demanded for his reward the goddess Freyja, together with the sun and moon. After long deliberation the gods agreed to his terms, provided he would finish the whole work himself without any one’s assistance, and all within the space of one winter; but if anything remained unfinished on the first day of summer, he should forfeit the recompense agreed on. On being told these terms, the artificer stipulated that he should be allowed the use of his horse, called Svadilfare (slippery-farer), and this by the advice of Loke was granted to him. He accordingly set to work on the first day of winter, and during the night let his horse draw stone for the building. The enormous size of the stones struck the gods with astonishment, and they saw clearly that the horse did one half more of the toilsome work than his master. Their bargain, however, had been concluded in the presence of witnesses and confirmed by solemn oaths, for without these precautions a giant would not have thought himself safe among the gods, especially when Thor returned from an expedition he had then undertaken toward the east against evil demons.

As the winter drew to a close, the building was far advanced, and the bulwarks were sufficiently high and massive to render this residence impregnable. In short, when it wanted but three days to summer, the only part that remained to be finished was the gateway. Then sat the gods on their seats of justice and entered into consultation, inquiring of one another who among them could have advised to give Freyja away to Jotunheim or to plunge the heavens in darkness by permitting the giant to carry away the sun and the moon. They all agreed that none but Loke Laufeyarson and the author of so many evil deeds could have given such bad counsel, and that he should be put to a cruel death if he did not contrive some way or other to prevent the artificer from completing his task and obtaining the stipulated recompense. They immediately proceeded to lay hands on Loke, who in his fright promised upon oath, that let it cost him what it would he would so manage matters that the man should lose his reward. That very night, when the artificer went with Svadilfare for building-stone, a mare suddenly ran out of a forest and began to neigh. The horse being thus excited, broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest, which obliged the man also to run after his horse, and thus between one and the other the whole night was lost, so that at dawn the work had not made the usual progress. The man, seeing that he had no other means of completing his task, resumed his own gigantic stature, and the gods now clearly perceived that it was in reality a mountain giant who had come amongst them. No longer regarding their oaths, they therefore called on Thor, who immediately ran to their assistance, and lifting up his mallet Mjolner (the crusher) that the dwarfs had made, he paid the workman his wages, not with the sun and moon, and not even by sending him back to Jotunheim, for with the first blow he shattered the giant’s skull to pieces, and hurled him headlong into Niflheim. But Loke had run such a race with Svadilfare, that shortly after the mischief-maker (Loke) bore a gray foal with eight legs. This is the horse Sleipner, which excels all horses ever possessed by gods or men. The gods perjured themselves, and in reference to this says the Elder Edda:

Then went the rulers there, All gods most holy, To their seats aloft, And counsel together took; Who all the winsome air With guile had blended, Or to the giant’s race Oder’s maiden given.[36]

Then Thor, who was there, Arose in wrathful mood, For seldom sits he still When such things he hears. Annulled were now all oaths, And words of promise fair, And faith not long before In council plighted.

This riddle is propounded. Who are the two who ride to the Thing? Three eyes have they together, ten feet and one tail; and thus they travel through the lands. The answer is Odin, who rides on Sleipner; he has one eye, the horse two; the horse runs on eight feet, Odin has two; only the horse has a tail.

Odin’s horse, Sleipner, symbolizes the winds of heaven, that blow from eight quarters. In Skaane and Bleking, in Sweden, it was customary to leave a sheaf of grain in the field for Odin’s horse, to keep him from treading down the grain. Wednesday is named after Odin (Odinsday), and on this day his horse was most apt to visit the fields. But in a higher sense Sleipner is a Pegasos. Pegasos flew from the earth to the abodes of the gods; Sleipner comes from heaven, carries the hero unharmed through the dangers of life, and lifts the poet, who believes in the spirit, up to his heavenly home. Grundtvig calls Sleipner the courser of the poet’s soul; that is to say, of the Icelandic or Old Norse strophe in poetry, which consisted of eight verses, or four octometers. The most poetic is the most truthful interpretation of the myths.

SECTION V. ODIN’S JOURNEYS.

A whole chapter might be written about the wanderings of Odin, his visits to the giants, to men, to battles, etc.; but as these records are very voluminous, and are found to a great extent in the semi-mythological Sagas, in which it is difficult to separate the mythical and historical elements, we will make but a few remarks on this subject. All his wanderings of course describe him as the all-pervading spirit of the universe. They have the same significance as his horse Sleipner, his ravens Hugin and Munin, etc. He descends to the bottom of the sea for wisdom, he descends to earth to try the minds of men. In the Elder Edda journeys of Odin form the subjects of the lays of Vafthrudner, Grimner, Vegtam, etc. (See pp. 120-124.) In the lay of Vafthrudner Odin visits the giant Vafthrudner for the purpose of proving his knowledge. They propose questions relating to the cosmogony of the Norse mythology, on the condition that the baffled party forfeit his head. The giant incurs the penalty. Odin calls himself Gangraad, but by the last question the giant recognizes him and is stricken with awe and fear. The giant must perish since he has ventured into combat with Odin. The mind subdues physical nature. When the giant recognizes Odin he realizes his own depressed nature and must die. No rogue can look an honest man in the eye. In Grimnersmál Odin assumes the name of Grimner, and goes to try the mind of his foster-son Geirrod. Geirrod tortures him and places him between two fires. And here begins the lay, in which Odin glorifies himself and the power of the gods and pities his fallen foster-son, but finally discloses himself and declares death to Geirrod for his want of hospitality. Thus Odin closes his address to Geirrod in the lay of Grimner:

Many things I told thee, But thou hast few remembered: Thy friends mislead thee. My friend’s sword Lying I see With blood all dripping.

The fallen by the sword Ygg shall now have; Thy life is now run out: Wrath with thee are the dises, Odin thou now shalt see: Draw near to me, if thou canst.

Odin I am named, Ygg I was called before, Before that Thund, Vaker and Skilfing, Vafud and Hroptatyr; With the gods Gaut and Jalk,[37] Ofner and Svafner; All which I believe to be Names of me alone.

SECTION VI. ODIN AND MIMER.

In the lay of Vegtam, Odin goes to Hel, and wakes the prophetess to learn the fate of his son Balder. He also takes counsel from the utmost sources of the ocean, and listens to the voice from the deep. Some myths refer to Odin’s pawning his eye with Mimer, others to his talking with Mimer’s head.

The Younger Edda, having stated that Mimer’s well is situated under that root of the world-ash Ygdrasil that extends to Jotunheim, adds that wisdom and wit lie concealed in it, and that Odin came to Mimer one day and asked for a drink of water from the fountain. He obtained the drink, but was obliged to leave one of his eyes in pawn for it. To this myth refers the following passage from the Völuspá in the Elder Edda:

Alone she[38] sat without, When came that ancient Dreaded prince[39] of the gods, And in his eye she gazed.

The vala to Odin:

Of what wouldst thou ask me? Odin! I know all, Where thou thine eye didst sink In the pure well of Mimer.

Mimer drinks mead each morn From Valfather’s pledge. Understand ye yet, or what?

This myth was given in connection with Ygdrasil, but it is repeated here to shed a ray of light upon the character of Odin, and in this wise Mimer is brought into a clearer sunlight also.

In regard to Odin’s speaking with Mimer’s head, we have the following passage in the lay of Sigdrifa:

On the rock he[40] stood With edged sword, A helm on his head he bore. _Then spake Mimer’s head_ Its first wise word, And true sayings uttered.

And in Völuspá, when Ragnarok is impending:

Mimer’s sons dance, But the central tree takes fire At the resounding Gjallarhorn, Loud blows Heimdal, His horn is raised; _Odin speaks With Mimer’s head_.

Odin’s eye is the sun. Mimer’s fountain is the utmost sources of the ocean. Into it, Odin’s eye, the sun sinks every evening to search the secrets of the deep, and every morning Mimer drinks the gold-brown mead (aurora). When the dawn colors the sea with crimson and scarlet, then Mimer’s white fountain is changed to golden mead; it is then Mimer, the watcher of the fountain of knowledge, drinks with his golden horn the clear mead which flows over Odin’s pledge. But Mimer means memory[41] (Anglo-Saxon _meomor_), and as we know that our ancestors paid deep reverence to the memories of the past, and that the fallen heroes, who enjoyed the happiness of Valhal with Odin, reveled in the memory of their deeds done on earth, it is proper to add that Mimer is an impersonation of memory. Our spirit (Odin, _od_, _aand_) sinks down into the depths of the past (memory, the sea, Odin’s fountain), and brings back golden thoughts, which are developed by the knowledge which we obtained from the depths beneath the sea of past history and experience. What a vast ocean is the history and experience of our race!

SECTION VII. HLIDSKJALF.

Hlidskjalf is Odin’s throne. The accounts of it are very meagre. The Younger Edda speaks of a stately mansion belonging to Odin called Valaskjalf, which was built by the gods and roofed with pure silver, and in which is the throne called Hlidskjalf. When Odin is seated on this throne he can see over the whole world. But he not only looks, he also listens.

Odin listened In Hlidskjalf,

it is said in Odin’s Raven-song; in Grimner’s lay it is stated that Odin and Frigg, his wife, were sitting in Hlidskjalf, looking over all the world; and in the lay of Skirner we read that Frey, son of Njord, had one day seated himself in Hlidskjalf. As Odin every morning sends out his ravens, it seems to be his first business, as a good father, to look out upon the world that he has made, and see how his children are doing, and whether they need his providential care in any respect. Hlidskjalf and Valhal must not be confounded. Valhal will be explained hereafter. It is situated in Gladsheim, where Odin sat with his chosen heroes and drank wine. But Valaskjalf is a place apart from Gladsheim, and on its highest pinnacle above the highest arches of heaven is Odin’s throne, Hlidskjalf.

SECTION VIII. THE HISTORICAL ODIN.

We have now presented the mythological Odin as based on the inscrutable phenomena of nature, and have given some hints in regard to the ethical or anthropomorphic element contained in each myth. Our next subject will be Odin’s wives, their maid-servants, his sons, etc.; but before we proceed to them we will give a short outline of the historical Odin, as he is presented in the Heimskringla of Snorre Sturleson by Saxo Grammaticus and others. Mr. Mallet, the French writer on Northern Antiquities, has given a synoptical view of all that these writers have said about the wanderings and exploits of this famous person, and we will make an abstract from him.

The Roman Empire had arrived at its highest point of power, and saw all the then known world subject to its laws, when an unforeseen event raised up enemies against it from the very bosom of the forests of Scythia and on the banks of the Tanais. Mithridates by flying had drawn Pompey after him into those deserts. The king of Pontus sought there for refuge and new means of vengeance. He hoped to arm against the ambition of Rome all the barbarous nations, his neighbors, whose liberty she threatened. He succeeded in this at first, but all those peoples, ill united as allies, poorly armed as soldiers, and still worse disciplined, were forced to yield to the genius of Pompey. Odin is said to have been of this number. He was obliged to flee from the vengeance of the Romans and to seek, in countries unknown to his enemies, that safety which he could no longer find in his own.

Odin commanded the Asas, whose country was situated between the Pontus Euxinus and the Caspian Sea. Their principal city was Asgard. Odin having united under his banners the youth of the neighboring nations, marched toward the west and north of Europe, subduing all the peoples he met on his way and giving them to one or other of his sons for subjects. Many sovereign families of the North are said to be descended from these princes. Thus Hengist and Horsa, the Saxon chiefs who conquered Britain in the fifth century, counted Odin in the number of their ancestors. So did also the other Anglo-Saxon princes, as well as the greater part of the princes of Lower Germany and the North.

After having disposed of so many countries and confirmed and settled his new governments, Odin directed his course toward Scandinavia, passing through Holstein and Jutland. These provinces made him no resistance. Then he passed into Funen (Denmark), which submitted as soon as he appeared. In this island he remained for a long time and built the city of Odense (_Odins-ve_, Odin’s sanctuary), which still preserves in its name the memory of its founder. Hence he extended his authority over all the North. He subdued the rest of Denmark and placed his son Skjold upon its throne. The descendants of Skjold continued for many generations to rule Denmark, and were called Skjoldungs.

Odin, who seems to have been better pleased to give crowns to his children than to wear them himself, afterwards passed over into Sweden, where at that time ruled a prince by name Gylfe, who paid him great honors and even worshiped him as a divinity. Odin quickly acquired in Sweden the same authority as he had obtained in Denmark. The Swedes came in crowds to do him homage, and by common consent bestowed the title of king upon his son Yngve and his posterity. Hence sprung the Ynglings, a name by which the kings of Sweden were for a long time distinguished. Gylfe died and was forgotten; Odin acquired lasting fame by his distinguished rule. He enacted new laws, introduced the customs of his own country, and established at Sigtuna, an ancient city in the same province as Stockholm, a supreme council or tribunal, composed of twelve judges. Their business was to watch over the public weal, to distribute justice to the people, to preside over the new worship, which Odin had brought with him into the North, and to preserve faithfully the religious and magical secrets which that prince deposited with them. He levied a tax on every man throughout the country, but engaged on his part to defend the inhabitants against all their enemies and to defray the expense of the worship rendered to the gods at Sigtuna.

These great acquisitions seem not, however, to have satisfied his ambition. The desire of extending further his religion, his authority, and his glory, caused him to undertake the conquest of Norway. His good fortune followed him thither, and this kingdom quickly obeyed a son of Odin named Sæming, who became the head of a family the different branches of which reigned for a long time in Norway.

After Odin had finished these glorious achievements he retired into Sweden, where, perceiving his end to draw near, he would not wait for a lingering disease to put an end to that life which he had so often and so valiantly hazarded in the battle-field, but gathering round him the friends and companions of his fortune, he gave himself nine wounds in the form of a circle with the point of a lance, and many other cuts in his skin with his sword. As he was dying he declared he was going back to Asgard to take his seat among the gods at an eternal banquet, where he would receive with great honors all who should expose themselves intrepidly in battle and die bravely with their swords in their hands. As soon as he had breathed his last they carried his body to Sigtuna, where, in accordance with a custom introduced by him into the North, his body was burned with much pomp and magnificence.

Such was the end of this man, whose death was as extraordinary as his life. It has been contended by many learned men that a desire of being revenged on the Romans was the ruling principle of his whole conduct. Driven by those enemies of universal liberty from his former home, his resentment was the more violent, since the Goths considered it a sacred duty to revenge all injuries, especially those offered to their relations or country. He had no other view, it is said, in traversing so many distant kingdoms, and in establishing with so much zeal his doctrines of valor, but to arouse all nations against so formidable and odious a nation as that of Rome. This leaven which Odin left in the bosoms of the worshipers of the gods, fermented a long time in secret; but in the fullness of time, the signal given, they fell upon this unhappy empire, and, after many repeated shocks, entirely overturned it, thus revenging the insult offered so many ages before to their founder.

The Sagas paint Odin as the most persuasive of men. Nothing could resist the force of his words. He sometimes enlivened his harangues with verses, which he composed extemporaneously, and he was not only a great poet, but it was he who taught the art of poetry to the Norsemen. He was the inventor of the runic characters, which so long were used in the North. This marking down the unseen thought that is in man with written characters is the most wonderful invention ever made; it is almost as miraculous as speech itself, and well may it be called a sort of second speech. But what most contributed to make Odin pass for a god was his skill in magic. He could run over the world in the twinkling of an eye; he had the command of the air and the tempests, he could transform himself into all sorts of shapes, could raise the dead, could foretell things to come, could by enchantments deprive his enemies of health and strength and discover all the treasures concealed in the earth. He knew how to sing airs so tender and melodious, that the very plains and mountains would open and expand with delight; the ghosts, attracted by the sweetness of his songs, would leave their infernal caverns and stand motionless around him.

But while his eloquence, together with his august and venerable deportment, procured him love and respect in a calm and peaceable assembly, he was no less dreadful and furious in battle. He inspired his enemies with such terror that they thought they could not describe it better than by saying he rendered them blind and deaf. He would appear like a wolf all desperate and biting his very shield for rage, he would throw himself amidst the opposing ranks, making around him the most horrible carnage, without receiving any wound himself. Such is the historical Odin of the North, such was, in other words, the great example that the Norsemen had to imitate in war and in peace.

SECTION IX. ODIN’S WIVES.

Odin’s wives are Jord (Fjorgyn, Hlodyn), Rind and Frigg. Heaven is married to earth. This we find in all mythologies (Uranos and Gaia, Zeus and Demeter, etc.) Among the Norsemen also the ruler of heaven and earth (Odin) enters into marriage relations with his own handiwork. This relation is expressed in three ways: Odin is married to Jord, to Frigg, and to Rind. Jord is the original, uninhabited earth, or the earth without reference to man; Frigg is the inhabited, cultivated earth, the abode of man, and Rind is the earth when it has again become unfruitful, when the white flakes of winter have covered its crust; it is in this latter condition that she long resists the loving embraces of her husband. These three relations are expressed still more clearly by their children. With Jord Odin begets Thor, with Frigg Balder, and with Rind Vale. Jord is the Greek Gaia, Frigg is Demeter, but the fortunate Greeks had no goddess corresponding to Rind; they knew not the severe Norse winter.

Jord is sometimes called Fjorgyn and Hlodyn, but neither of these names occur many times in the Eddas. There are only found occasional allusions to her, such as the flesh of Ymer, the daughter of Annar, sister of Dag, mother of Thor, etc.

Frigg is the daughter of Fjorgyn and the first among the goddesses, the queen of the asas and asynjes. Odin is her dearly beloved husband. She sits with him in Hlidskjalf and looks out upon all the worlds, and for the death of their son, the light Balder, they mourn together with all nature. Frigg knows the fate of men, but she never says or prophesies anything about it herself. She possesses a falcon-disguise, which Loke once borrowed of her. She possesses a magnificent mansion Fensal, where she sat weeping over Valhal’s misfortune after the death of Balder. It is not certain whether Friday is named after Frigg or Freyja or after Frey, but the probabilities are that it is Freyja’s day (_dies Veneris_). While Frigg and Freyja are by many authors confounded, they are nevertheless wholly different characters. Frigg is _asa_queen, Freyja is _vana_dis. Frigg is a _mother’s_ love; Freyja is the love of the _youth_ or _maiden_. The asas are land deities, the vans are divinities of the water. The vana-goddess Freyja represents the surging, billowy, unsettled love; the asynje Frigg represents love in its nobler and more constant form.

SECTION X. FRIGG’S MAID-SERVANTS.

Fulla, Hlyn, Gnaa, Snotra, Var, Lofn (Sjofn), and Syn, are enumerated as maid-servants of Frigg.

Fulla goes about with her hair flowing over her shoulders and her head adorned with a golden ribbon. She is intrusted with the toilette and slippers of Frigg and admitted into the most important secrets of that goddess. The word Fulla means full, fulness, and as the servant of Frigg she represents the fulness of the earth, which is beautifully suggested by her waving hair and golden ribbon (harvest), and when Balder sent the ring Draupner from Hel, his wife Nanna sent Frigg a carpet, and Fulla a gold ring.

Hlyn has the care of those whom Frigg intends to deliver from peril.

Gnaa is the messenger that Frigg sends into the various worlds on her errands. She has a horse that can run through air and water, called Hofvarpner (the hoof-thrower). Once, as she drove out, certain vans saw her car in the air, when one of them exclaimed:

What flies there? What goes there? In the air aloft what glides?

She answered:

I fly not, though I go, And glide through the air On Hofvarpner, Whose sire’s Hamskerper[42] And dame Gardrofa.[43]

Gnaa is interpreted to mean the mild breezes, that Frigg sends out to produce good weather.

Var listens to the oaths that men take, and particularly the troth plighted between man and woman, and punishes those who keep not their promises. She is wise and prudent, and so penetrating that nothing remains hidden from her. Her name Var means _wary_, careful.

Lofn (_lofa_, _loben_, love) is so mild and gracious to those who invoke her, that by a peculiar privilege which either Odin himself or Frigg has given her, she can remove every obstacle that may prevent the union of lovers sincerely attached to each other. Hence her name is applied to denote love, and whatever is beloved by men.

Sjofn delights in turning men’s hearts and thoughts to love; hence love is called from her name _sjafni_.

Syn keeps the door in the hall and shuts it against those who ought not to enter. She presides at trials, when anything is to be denied on oath; whence the proverb, Syn (negation) is set against it, when anything is denied.

SECTION XI. GEFJUN, EIR.

The norns or destinies have been previously explained (see p. 190); Nanna will be discussed in connection with Balder, and Freyja, the goddess of love, in connection with Njord and Frey; but there are besides these a few other goddesses, who demand our attention here.

Gefjun is a maid, and all those who die maids become her hand-maidens. Of her there is the following anecdote in the Younger Edda. King Gylfe ruled over the land which is now called Sweden. It is related of him that he once gave a wayfaring woman, as a recompense for her having diverted him, as much land in his realm as she could plow with four oxen in a day and a night.[44] This woman was however of the race of the asas, and was called Gefjun. She took four oxen from the North, out of Jotunheim, (but they were the sons she had had with a giant,) and set them before a plow. Now the plow made such deep furrows that it tore up the land, which the oxen drew westward out to the sea until they came to a sound. There Gefjun fixed the land and called it Zealand. And the place where the land had stood became water, and formed a lake which is now called Logrinn (the sea) in Sweden, and the inlets of this lake correspond exactly with the headlands of Zealand in Denmark. Thus saith the Skald, Brage:

Gefjun drew from Gylfe, Rich in stored up treasure, The land she joined to Denmark. Four heads and eight eyes bearing, While hot sweat trickled down them, The oxen dragged the reft mass That formed this winsome island.

The etymology of Gefjun is uncertain. Some explain it as being a combination of the Greek γῆ, and Norse _fjón_, separation (_terræ separatio_). Grimm compares it with the Old Saxon _geban_, Anglo-Saxon, _geofon_, _gifan_, the ocean. Grundtvig derives it from Anglo-Saxon _gefean_, gladness. He says it is the same word as Funen (_Fyn_), and that the meaning of the myth is that Funen and Jutland with united strength tore Zealand from Sweden. This would then be a historical interpretation.

The derivation from _gefa_, to give, has also been suggested, and there is no doubt that the plowing Gefjun is the goddess of agriculture. She unites herself with the giants (the barren and unfruitful fields or deserts) and subdues them, thus preparing the land for cultivation. In this sense she is Frigg’s maid-servant. Gefjun, the plowed land, develops into Frigg, the fruit-bearing earth; hence she is a maid, not a woman. The maid _is not_, but _shall become_ fruitful.

Eir is the goddess of the healing art, and this is about all that we know of her; but that is a great deal. A healer for our frail body and for the sick mind! what a beneficent divinity!

SECTION XII. RIND.

This goddess was mentioned in Section IX. It is the third form of earth in its relation to Odin. Thus the lay of Vegtam, in the Elder Edda:

Rind a son shall bear In the wintry halls, He shall slay Odin’s son When one night old. He a hand will not wash, Nor his hair comb, Ere he to the pile has borne Balder’s adversary.

Odin’s repeated wooing of this maid is expressed in Hávamál, of the Elder Edda, as follows:

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.

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.

Billing’s lass[45] On her couch I found, Sun-bright, sleeping. A prince’s joy To me seemed naught, If not with that form to live.

Yet nearer night, she said, Must thou, Odin, come, If thou wilt talk the maiden over; All will be disastrous Unless we alone Are privy to such misdeed.

I returned, Thinking to love At her wise desire; I thought I should obtain Her whole heart and love.

When next I came, The bold warriors were All awake, With lights burning, And bearing torches: Thus was the way to pleasure closed.

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.

Many a fair maiden, When rightly known, Toward men is fickle: That I experienced When that discreet maiden I Strove to win: Contumely of every kind That wily girl Heaped upon me; Nor of that damsel gained I aught.

This is clearly the same story as is related by Saxo Grammaticus, as follows: Odin loves a maiden, whose name is Rind, and who has a stubborn disposition. Odin tried to revenge the death of his son Balder. Then he was told by Rosthiof that he with Rind, the daughter of the king of the Ruthenians, would beget another son, who would revenge his brother’s death. Odin put on his broad-brimmed hat and went into the service of the king, and won the friendship of the king, for as commander he put a whole army to flight. He revealed his love to the king, but when he asked the maiden for a kiss, she struck his ear. The next year he came as a smith, called himself Rosterus, and offered the maiden a magnificent bracelet and beautiful rings; but she gave his ear another blow. The third time he came as a young warrior, but she thrust him away from her so violently that he fell head first to the ground. Finally he came as a woman, called himself Vecha, and said he was a doctress. As Rind’s servant-maid, he washed her feet in the evening, and when she became sick he promised to cure her, but the remedy was so bitter that she must first be bound. He represented to her father that it, even against her wish, must operate with all its dissolving power, and permeate all her limbs before she could be restored to health. Thus he won the maiden, as some think, with the secret consent of her father. But the gods banished Odin from Byzantium, and accepted in his place a certain Oller, whom they even gave Odin’s name. This Oller had a bone, which he had so charmed by incantations that he could traverse the ocean with it as in a ship. Oller was banished again by the gods, and betook himself to Sweden; but Odin returned in his divine dignity and requested his son Bous, whom Rind bad borne, and who showed a great proclivity for war, to revenge the death of his brother. Saxo Grammaticus relates this as confidently as if it were the most genuine history, not having the faintest suspicion as to its mythical character.

Saxo’s Rosthiof is mentioned in the Elder Edda as Hross-thiofr (horse-thief), of Hrimner’s (the frost’s rime’s) race. Saxo’s Vecha is Odin, who in the Elder Edda is called Vak. The latter portion of the myth is not given in Hávamál, and were it not for faithful Saxo we should scarcely understand that portion of the Elder Edda which was quoted above. But with the light that he sheds upon it there is no longer any doubt. Rind is the earth, not generally speaking, but the earth who after the death of Balder is consigned to the power of winter. Does not the English word _rind_ remind us of the hard-frozen crust of the earth? Defiantly and long she resists the love of Odin; in vain be proffers her the ornaments of summer; in vain he reminds her of his warlike deeds, the Norseman’s most cherished enterprise in the summer-season. By his all-powerful witchcraft he must dissolve and as it were melt her stubborn mind. Finally she gives birth to Vale, the strong warrior.

In the incantation of Groa, in the Elder Edda, this is the first song that the mother sings to her son:

I will sing to thee first One that is thought most useful, Which Rind sang to Ran;[46] That from thy shoulders thou shouldst cast What to thee seems irksome: Let thyself thyself direct. (Be independent!)

What is it that seems so irksome to Rind and Ran, and that both cast from their shoulders in order to become independent? It is the ice. When Rind had thrown it off she requested the sea-goddess Ran to do likewise.

The Greeks have a myth corresponding somewhat to this. The god of the heavens, Zeus, comes down in the rain into Hera’s lap; but when she resisted his entreaties Zeus let fall a shower of rain, while she was sitting on the top of a mountain, and he changed himself to a nightingale (a symbol of spring-time). Then Hera compassionately took the wet and dripping bird into her lap. But look at the difference! Hera soon gives way and pities, but our Norse Rind makes a desperate resistance. It repeatedly looks as if Odin had conquered, but the maid reassumes her stubborn disposition. How true this is of the climate in the northern latitudes! Rind is not inapplicable to our Wisconsin winters.

Such is the physical interpretation of Odin’s relation to Frigg and Rind. Heaven and earth are wedded together; and upon this marriage earth presents itself in two forms: fruitful and blest, unfruitful and imprisoned in the chains of cold and frost. As the king of the year Odin embraces both of them. But Odin is also the spiritual (_aand_) king, who unites himself with the human earthly mind. He finds it crude and uncultured, but susceptible of impressions. Pure thoughts and noble feelings are developed, which grow into blooming activities. But then comes back again the unfeeling coldness and defiant stubbornness which take possession of the mind, shutting out the influence of truth upon the mind. It is a sad time when doubt and skepticism and despair every night lay their leaden weight upon the poor man’s soul. However to the honest seeker of truth it is only a transitory state of trial. A wise Providence takes him with tender and patient hands again to his bosom. He sends down showers of blessings or misfortunes upon him. With his mild breath he melts the frozen heart, and it at once clothes itself with garlands of divinest hues. With all his charms he touches the wintry _rind_ that encases us, and the mind stands forth unmanacled and free. What to the year is light summer and dark winter is to us bright and gloomy periods of our existence, that succeed each other in their turn, advancing or impeding our spiritual development, which must continue forever. This is also contained in the myth about Odin and Rind, nay, it is the better half.

SECTION XIII. GUNLAD. THE ORIGIN OF POETRY.

Poetry is represented as an inspiring drink. He who partakes of it is _skáld_, poet. This drink was kept with the giants, where Gunlad protected it. Odin goes down to the giants, conquers all obstacles, wins Gunlad’s affection, and gets permission to partake of the drink. He brings it to the upper world and gives it to men. Thus poetry originated and developed. Thus it is related in the Younger Edda:

Æger having expressed a wish to know how poetry originated, Brage, the god of poetry, informed him that the asas and vans having met to put an end to the war which had long been carried on between them, a treaty of peace was agreed to and ratified by each party spitting into a jar. As a lasting sign of the amity which was thenceforward to subsist between the contending parties, the gods formed out of this spittle a being, to whom they gave the name of Kvaser, and whom they endowed with such a high degree of intelligence that no one could ask him a question that he was unable to answer. Kvaser then traversed the whole world to teach men wisdom, but the dwarfs, Fjalar and Galar, having invited him to a feast, treacherously murdered him. They let his blood run into two cups and a kettle. The name of the kettle is Odrœrer, and the names of the cups are Son and Bodn. By mixing up his blood with honey they composed a drink of such surpassing excellence that whoever partakes of it acquires the gift of song (becomes a poet or man of knowledge, _skáld_, _eða fræðamaðr_). When the gods inquired what had become of Kvaser, the dwarfs told them that he had been suffocated with his own wisdom, not being able to find anyone who, by proposing to him a sufficient number of learned questions, might relieve him of its super-abundance.

The dwarfs invited a giant, by name Gilling, and his wife. They proposed to the giant to take a boat-ride with them out on the sea, but they rowed on to a rock and capsized. Gilling could not swim, and perished, but the dwarfs rowed ashore, and told his wife of his death, which made her burst forth in a flood of tears. Then Fjalar asked her whether it would not be some consolation to her to look out upon the water, where her husband had perished; and when she consented to this, Fjalar said to his brother Galar that he should get up above the door, and, as she passed out through it, he should let fall a mill-stone upon her head, for he was sick and disgusted with her crying. The brother did so, and thus she perished also. A son of Gilling, a giant by name Suttung, avenged these treacherous deeds. He took the dwarfs out to sea and placed them on a shoal, which was flooded at high water. In this critical position they implored Suttung to spare their lives, and accept the verse-inspiring beverage, which they possessed, as an atonement for their having killed his parents. Suttung, having agreed to these conditions, released the dwarfs, and, carrying the mead home with him, committed it to the care of his daughter Gunlad. Hence poetry is indifferently called Kvaser’s blood, Suttung’s mead, the dwarfs’ ransom, etc.

How did the gods get possession of this valuable mead of Suttung? Odin being fully determined to acquire it, set out for Jotunheim, and after journeying for some time he came to a meadow, in which nine thralls were mowing. Entering into conversation with them, Odin offered to whet their scythes, an offer which they gladly accepted. He took a whetstone from his belt and whetted their scythes, and finding that it had given their scythes an extraordinarily keen edge the thralls asked him whether he was willing to dispose of it; but Odin threw the whetstone up into the air, and as all the thralls attempted to catch it as it fell, each brought his scythe to bear on the neck of one of his comrades, so that they were all killed in the scramble. Odin took up his night’s lodging at the house of Suttung’s brother Bauge, who told him he was sadly at a loss for laborers, his nine thralls having slain each other. Odin who here called himself Bolverk (one who can perform the most difficult work), said that for a draught of Suttung’s mead he would do the work of nine men for him. Bauge answered that he had no control over it. Suttung wanted it alone, but he would go with Bolverk and try to get it. These terms were agreed on and Odin worked for Bauge the whole summer, doing the work of nine men; but when winter set in he wanted his reward. Bauge and Odin set out together, and Bauge explained to Suttung the agreement between him and Bolverk, but Suttung was deaf to his brother’s entreaties and would not part with a drop of the precious drink, which was carefully preserved in a cavern under his daughter’s custody. Into this cavern Odin was resolved to penetrate. We must invent some stratagem, said he to Bauge. He then gave Bauge the augur, which is called Rate, and said to him that he should bore a hole through the rock, if the edge of the augur was sharp enough. Bauge did so, and said that he now had bored through. But Odin, or Bolverk as he is here called, blew into the augur-hole and the chips flew into his face. He then perceived that Bauge intended to deceive him and commanded him to bore clear through. Bauge bored again, and, when Bolverk blew a second time, the chips flew the other way. Then Odin transformed himself into a worm, crept through the hole, and resuming his natural shape won the heart of Gunlad. Bauge put the augur down after him, but missed him. After having passed three nights with the fair maiden, he had no great difficulty in inducing her to let him take a draught out of each of the three jars called Odrœrer, Bodn, and Son, in which the mead was kept. But wishing to make the most of his advantage, he drank so deep that not a drop was left in the vessels. Transforming himself into an eagle, he then flew off as fast as his wings could carry him, but Suttung becoming aware of the stratagem, also took upon himself an eagle’s guise and flew after him. The gods, on seeing him approach Asgard, set out in the yard all the jars they could lay their hands on, which Odin filled by disgorging through his beak the wonder-working liquor he had drunk. He was however so near being caught by Suttung, that he sent some of the mead after him backwards, and as no care was taken of this it fell to the share of poetasters. It is called the drink of silly poets. But the mead discharged into the jars was kept for the gods and for those men who have sufficient wit to make a right use of it. Hence poetry is called Odin’s booty, Odin’s gift, the beverage of the gods, etc.

But let us look at this myth in its older and purer form. Thus the Elder Edda, in Hávamál:

Oblivion’s heron ’t is called That over potations hovers; He steals the minds of men. With this bird’s pinions I was fettered In Gunlad’s dwelling.

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.

This passage then refers to the effects of the strong drink of poetry, and Odin recommends us to use it with moderation. Would it not be well for some of our poets to heed the advice?

Thus Hávamál again:

The old giant[47] 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.

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.

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.

Of a well-assumed form I made good use: Few things fail the wise; For Odrœrer Is now come up To men’s earthly dwellings.

’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.

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.

Odin, I believe, A ring-oath gave. Who in his faith will trust? Suttung defrauded, Of his drink bereft, And Gunlad made to weep.

It is a beautiful idea that Odin creeps into Suttung’s hall as a serpent, but when he has drunk the mead of poetry, when he has become inspired, he soars away on eagles’ pinions.

Odin’s name, Bolverk, may mean the one working evil, which might be said of him in relation to the giants, or the one who accomplishes difficult things, which then would impersonate the difficulty in mastering the art of poetry. Without a severe struggle no one can gain a victory in the art of poetry, and least of all in the Old Norse language. Gunlad (from _gunnr_, struggle, and _laða_, to invite) invites Odin to this struggle. She sits well fortified in the abode of the giant. She is surrounded by stone walls. The cup in which was the mead is called Odrœrer (_od-rœrer_, that which moves the spirit); that is, the cup of inspiration; and the myth is as clear as these names. Kvaser is the fruit of which the juice is pressed and mixed with honey; it produces the inspiring drink. It is also pertinently said that Kvaser perishes in his own wisdom. Does not the fruit burst from its superabundance of juice? But do not take only the outside skin of this myth; press the ethical juice out of it.

It should be noticed here that Kvaser (the spit, the ripe fruit) is produced by a union of asas and vans, an intimate union of the solid and liquid elements.

This myth also illustrates the wide difference between the Elder and the Younger Edda. How much purer and poetic in the former than in the latter! _Ex ipso fonte dulcius bibuntur aquæ._ In the Elder Edda is water in which it is worth our while to fish.

SECTION XIV. SAGA.

Odin is not only the inventor of poetry, he also favors and protects history, Saga. The Elder Edda:

Sokvabek hight the fourth dwelling., Over it flow the cool billows; Glad drink there Odin and Saga Every day from golden cups.

The charming influence of history could not be more beautifully described.

Sokvabek is the brook of the deep. From the deep arise the thoughts and roll as cool refreshing waves through golden words. Saga can tell, Odin can think, about it. Thus they sit together day after day and night after night and refresh their minds from the fountain of history. Saga is the second of the goddesses. She dwells at Sokvabek, a very large and stately abode. The stream of history is large, it is broad and deep. Saga is from the word meaning _to say_. In Greece Klio was one of the muses, but in Norseland Saga is alone, united with Odin, the father of heroic deeds. Her favor is the hope of the youth and the delight of the old man.

SECTION XV. ODIN AS THE INVENTOR OF RUNES.

The original meaning of the word rune is _secret_, and it was used to signify a mysterious song, mysterious doctrine, mysterious speech, and mysterious writing. Our ancestors had an alphabet called runes, before they learned the so-called Roman characters. The runic stave-row was a futhore (_f_, _u_, _th_, _o_, _r_, _k_), not an alphabet (_A_, _B_) as in Greek or Latin. But what does it mean mythologically, that Odin is the inventor of the runes? Odin himself says in his famous Rune-song in the Elder Edda:

I know that I hung On a wind-rocked tree[48] Nine whole nights, With a spear wounded And to Odin offered, Myself to myself; On that tree Of which no one knows From what root it springs.

Bread no one gave me Nor a horn of drink, Downward I peered, To runes applied myself Wailing learnt them, Then fell down thence.

Potent songs nine From the famed son I learned Of Bolthorn, Bestla’s father, And a draught obtained Of the precious mead, Drawn from Odrœrer.

Then I began to bear fruit And to know many things, To grow and well thrive: Word by word I sought out words, Fact by fact I sought out facts.

Runes thou wilt find And explained characters, Very large characters, Very potent characters, Which the great speaker depicted And the high powers formed And the powers’ prince graved.

Odin among the asas, But among the elves, Daain; Odin as inventor of runes And Dvalin for the dwarfs; Aasvid for the giants runes risted, Some I myself risted.

Knowest thou how to rist them? Knowest thou how to expound them? Knowest thou how to depict them? Knowest thou how to prove them? Knowest thou how to pray? Knowest thou how to offer? Knowest thou how to send? Knowest thou how to consume?

’T is better not to pray Than too much offer; A gift ever looks to a return. ’T is better not to send Than too much consume. So Thund risted Before the origin of men, There he ascended Where he afterwards came.

Those songs I know Which the king’s wife knows not Nor son of man. _Help_ the first is called, For that will help thee Against strifes and cares.

For the second I know, What the sons of men require Who will as leeches live.

For the third I know, If I have great need To restrain my foes, The weapon’s edge I deaden: Of my adversaries Nor arms nor wiles harm aught.

For the fourth I know, If men place Bonds on my limbs, I so sing That I can walk; The fetter starts from my feet And the manacle from my hands.

For the fifth I know, I see a shot from a hostile hand, A shaft flying amid the host, So swift it cannot fly, That I cannot arrest it, If only I get sight of it.

For the sixth I know, If one wounds me With a green tree’s root,[49] Also if a man Declares hatred to me, Harm shall consume _them_ sooner than me.

For the seventh I know, If a lofty house I see Blaze o’er its inmates, So furiously it shall not burn That I cannot save it; That song I can sing.

For the eighth I know, What to all is Useful to learn; Where hatred grows Among the sons of men— That I can quickly assuage.

For the ninth I know, If I stand in need My bark on the water to save, I can the wind On the waves allay, And the sea lull.

For the tenth I know, If I see troll-wives Sporting in air, I can so operate That they will forsake Their own forms And their own minds.

For the eleventh I know, If I have to lead My ancient friends to battle, Under their shields I sing, And with power they go Safe to the fight, Safe from the fight; Safe on every side they go.

For the twelfth I know, If on a tree I see A corpse swinging from a halter, I can so rist And in runes depict, That the man shall walk, And with me converse.

For the thirteenth I know, If on a young man I sprinkle water,[50] He shall not fall, Though he into battle come: That man shall not sink before swords.

For the fourteenth I know, If in the society of men I have to enumerate the gods, Asas and elves, I know the distinctions of all. This few unskilled can do.

For the fifteenth I know. What the dwarf of Thodrœrer[51] sang Before Delling’s doors. Strength he sang to the asas, And to the elves prosperity, Wisdom to Hroptatyr (Odin).

For the sixteenth I know, If a modest maiden’s favor and affection I desire to possess, The soul I change Of the white-armed damsel, And wholly turn her mind.

For seventeenth I know, That that young maiden will Reluctantly avoid me. These songs, Lodfafner, Thou wilt long have lacked; Yet it may be good, if thou understandest them, Profitable if thou learnest them.

For the eighteenth I know, That which I never teach To maid or wife of man, (All is better What _one_ only knows: This is the closing of the songs) Save her alone Who clasps me in her arms, Or is my sister.

Now are sung the _High One’s_ songs In the High One’s hall, To the sons of men all useful, But useless to the giants’ sons. Hail to him who has sung them! Hail to him who knows them! May he profit who has learnt them! Hall to those who have listened to them!

Odin’s sister or wife is, as we have seen, Frigg, the earth, and there is much between heaven and earth of which the wisest men do not even dream, much that the profoundest philosophy is unable to unravel, and this is what Odin never teaches to maid or wife of man.

The runes of Odin were risted on the shield which stands before the shining god, on the ear of Aarvak (the ever-wakeful), and on the hoof of Alsvin; on the wheels that roll under Rogner’s chariot, on Sleipner’s reins, on the paw of the bear and on the tongue of Brage; on the claws of the wolf, on the beak of the eagle, on bloody wings and on the end of the bridge (the rainbow); on glass, on gold, on wine and on herb; on Vile’s heart, on the point of Gungner (Odin’s spear), on Grane’s breast, on the nails of the norn and on the beak of the owl. All, that were carved, were afterwards scraped off, mixed with the holy mead and sent out into all parts of the world. Some are with the asas, some with the elves, and some with the sons of men.

All this and even more that is omitted we find in the Elder Edda. What are Odin’s runes? What but a new expression of his being? Odin’s runes represent the might and wisdom with which he rules all nature, even its most secret phenomena. Odin, as master of runes, is the spirit that subdues and controls physical nature. He governs inanimate nature, the wind, the sea, the fire, and the mind of man, the hate of the enemy and the love of woman. Everything submits to his mighty sway, and thus the runes were risted on all possible things in heaven and on earth. He is the spirit of the world, that pervades everything, the almighty creator of heaven and earth, or, to use more mythological expression, the father of gods and men.

Odin hung nine days on the tree (Ygdrasil) and sacrificed himself to himself, and wounded himself with his own spear. This has been interpreted to mean the nine months in which the child is developed in its mother’s womb. Turn back and read the first strophes carefully, and it will be found that there is some sense in this interpretation; but, kind reader, did you ever try to subdue and penetrate into the secrets of matter with your mind? Do you know that knowledge cannot be acquired without labor, without struggle, without sacrifice, without solemn consecration of one’s self to an idea? Do you remember that Odin gave his eye in pawn for a drink from Mimer’s fountain? The spear with which he now wounds himself shows how solemnly he consecrates himself. For the sake of this struggle to acquire knowledge, the spirit offers itself to itself. It knows what hardships and sufferings must be encountered on the road to knowledge, but it bravely faces these obstacles, it wants to wrestle with them; that is its greatness, its glory, its power. Nine nights Odin hangs on the tree. Rome was not built in a day. _Tantæ molis erat Romanas condere gentes!_ Neither is knowledge acquired in a day. The mind is developed by a slow process. He neither eats nor drinks, he fasts. You must also curb your bodily appetites, and, like Odin, look down into the depths and penetrate the mysteries of nature with your mind. Then will you learn all those wonderful songs that Odin learned crying before he fell from the tree.

Odin is the author of the runic incantations that played so conspicuous a part in the social and religious life of the Norseman. The belief in sorcery (_galdr_ and _seiðr_) was universal among the heathen Norsemen, and it had its origin in the mythology, which represents the magic arts as an invention of Odin.

SECTION XVI. VALHAL.

Thus the Elder Edda, in the lay of Grimner:

Gladsheim is named the fifth dwelling; There the golden-bright Valhal stands spacious; There Hropt[52] selects Each day those men Who die by weapons.

Easily to be known is, By those who to Odin come, The mansion by its aspect. Its roof with spears is laid, Its hall with shields is decked, With corselets are its benches strewed.

Easily to be known is, By those who to Odin come, The mansion by its aspect. A wolf hangs Before the western door, Over it an eagle hovers.

Odin was preëminently the god of war. He who fell in battle came after death to Odin in Valhal. There he began the battle anew, fell and arose again. Glorious was the life in Valhal.

The hall was called Valhal, that is, the hall of the slain; Odin was called Valfather (father of the slain), and the maids he sent out to choose the fallen heroes on the field of battle were called valkyries. Valhal must not, as before stated, be confused with the silver-roofed valaskjalf.

The heroes who came to Valhal were called einherjes, from _ein_ and _herja_, which together mean the excellent warrior, and we find that Odin was also called Herja-father (father of heroes).

Valhal is situated in Gladsheim. It is large and resplendent with gold; spears support its ceiling, it is roofed with shields, and coats of mail adorn its benches. Swords serve the purpose of fire, and of its immense size we can form some idea when we read in the Elder Edda that

Five hundred doors And forty more Methinks are in Valhal; Eight hundred heroes through each door Shall issue forth Against the wolf to combat.

Outside of Valhal stands the shining grove Glaser. All its leaves are red gold, whence gold is frequently called Glaser’s leaves.

What does Odin give all his guests to eat? If all the men who have fallen in fight since the beginning of the world are gone to Odin in Valhal, there must be a great crowd there. Yes, the crowd there is indeed great, but great though it be, it will still be thought too little when the wolf comes (the end of the world). But however great the band of men in Valhal may be, the flesh of the boar Sæhrimner will more than suffice for their sustenance. This boar is cooked every morning, but becomes whole again every night. The cook is called Andhrimner and the kettle Eldhrimner. Thus the Elder Edda:

Andhrimner cooks In Eldhrimner Sæhrimner; ’Tis the best of flesh; But few know What the einherjes eat.

What do the guests of Odin drink? Do you imagine that Allfather would invite kings and jarls and other great men and give them nothing but water to drink? In that case many of those, who had endured the greatest hardships and received deadly wounds in order to obtain access to Valhal, would find that they had paid too great a price for their water drink, and would indeed have reason to complain were they there to meet with no better entertainment. But we shall see that the case is quite otherwise; for the she-goat Heidrun (the clear stream) stands above Valhal and feeds on the leaves of a very famous tree. This tree is called Lerad (affording protection), and from the teats of the she-goat flows mead in such great abundance that every day a bowl, large enough to hold more than would suffice for all the heroes, is filled with it. And still more wonderful is what is told of the stag, Eikthyrner (the oak-thorned, having knotty horns), which also stands over Valhal and feeds upon the leaves of the same tree, and while he is feeding so many drops fall from his antlers down into Hvergelmer that they furnish sufficient water for the thirty-six rivers that issuing thence flow twelve to the abodes of the gods, twelve to the abodes of men, and twelve to Niflheim.

Ah! our ancestors were uncultivated barbarians, and that is proved by the life in Valhal, where the heroes ate pork and drank mead! But what are we, then, who do the same thing? Let us look a little more carefully at the words they used. Food they called flesh, and drink, mead,—expressions taken from life; but they connected an infinitely higher idea with the heavenly nourishment. Although but few know what the einherjes eat, we ought to know it. When we hear the word ambrosia, we think of a very fine nourishment, although we do not know what it was. In the _Iliad_ (14, 170), it is used of pure water. The words used in the Norse mythology in reference to the food and drink of the gods are very simple, And-hrimner, Eld-hrimner, and Sæ-hrimner. Hrim (rime) is the first and most delicate transition from a liquid to a solid; hrimner is the one producing this transition. The food was formed, as the words clearly show, by air (_and_, _önd_, _aande_, breath), by fire (_eld_), and by water (_sæ_, sea). We have here the most delicate formation of the most delicate elements. There is nothing earthly in it. The fundamental element is water boiled by the fire, which is nourished by the air; and the drink is the clear stream, which flows from the highest abodes of heaven, the pure ethereal current, which comes from the distant regions where the winds are silent. Nay, we cannot even call it a drink, but it is the purest and most delicate breath of the air, that fills the lungs of the immortal heroes in Valhal.

A mighty band of men there is in Valhal, and Odin must indeed be a great chieftain to command such a numerous host; but how do the heroes pass their time when they are not drinking? Answer: Every day, as soon as they have dressed themselves, they ride out into the court, and there fight until they cut each other into pieces. This is their pastime. But when meal-time approaches, they remount their steeds and return to drink mead from the skulls of their enemies[53] in Valhal. Thus the Elder Edda:

The einherjes all On Odin’s plain Hew daily each other, While chosen the slain are. From the battle-field they ride And sit in peace with each other.

SECTION XVII. THE VALKYRIES (VALKYRJUR).

As the god of war, Odin sends out his maids to choose the fallen heroes (_kjósa val_). They are called valkyries and valmaids (_valmeyar_). The valkyries serve in Valhal, where they bear in the drink, take care of the drinking-horns, and wait upon the table. Odin sends them to every field of battle, to make choice of those who are to be slain and to sway the victory. The youngest of the norns, Skuld, also rides forth to choose the slain and turn the combat. More than a dozen valkyries are named in the Elder Edda, and all these have reference to the activities of war.

This myth about Odin as the god of war, about Valhal and the valkyries, exercised a great influence upon the mind and character of our ancestors. The dying hero knows that the valkyries have been sent after him to invite him home to Odin’s hall, and he receives their message with joy and gladness. That the brave were to be taken after death to Valhal was one of the fundamental points, if not the soul, of the Norse religion.[54] The Norsemen felt in their hearts that it was absolutely necessary to be brave. Odin would not care for them, but despise and thrust them away from him, if they were not brave. And is there not some truth in this doctrine? Is it not still a preëminent duty to be brave? Is it not the first duty of man to subdue fear? What can we accomplish until we have got rid of fear? A man is a slave, a coward, his very thoughts are false, until he has got fear under his feet. Thus we find that the Odinic doctrine, if we disentangle the real kernel and essence of it, is true even in our times. A man must be valiant—he must march forward and acquit himself like a man. How much of a man he is will be determined in most cases by the completeness of his victory over fear. Their views of Odin, Valhal and the valkyries made the Norsemen think it a shame and misery not to die in battle; and if natural death seemed to be coming on, they would cut wounds in their flesh, that Odin might receive them as warriors slain. Old kings, about to die, had their bodies laid in a ship; the ship was sent forth with sails set, and a slow fire burning it, so that once out at sea it might blaze up in flame, and in such manner bury worthily the hero both in the sky and in the ocean. The Norse viking fought with an indomitable, rugged energy. He stood in the prow of his ship, silent, with closed lips, defying the wild ocean with its monsters, and all men and things. No Homer sang of these Norse warriors and sea-kings, but their heroic deeds and wild deaths are the ever-recurring theme of the skalds.

The death of the Norse viking is beautifully described in the following strophe from Professor Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen’s poem, entitled _Odin’s Ravens_:

In the prow with head uplifted Stood the chief like wrathful Thor; Through his locks the snow-flakes drifted Bleached their hue from gold to hoar. Mid the crash of mast and rafter Norsemen leaped through death with laughter Up through Valhal’s wide-flung door.

Regner Lodbrok thus ends his famous song, the Krákumál:

Cease, my strain! I hear a voice From realms where martial souls rejoice; I hear the maids of slaughter call, Who bid me hence to Odin’s hall: High-seated in their blest abodes I soon shall quaff the drink of gods. The hours of life have glided by, I fall, but smiling shall I die.

And in the death-song of Hakon (_Hákonarmál_) we find the valkyries Gondul and Skogul in the heat of battle:

The god Tyr sent Gondul and Skogul To choose a king Of the race of Ingve, To dwell with Odin In roomy Valhal.

The battle being described, the skald continues:

When lo! Gondul, Pointing with her spear, Said to her sister, Soon shall increase The band of the gods: To Odin’s feast Hakon is bidden.

The king beheld The beautiful maids Sitting on their horses In shining armor, Their shields before them, Solemnly thoughtful.

The king heard The words of their lips, Saw them beckon With pale hands, And thus bespoke them: Mighty goddesses, Were we not worthy You should choose us A better doom?

Skogul answered: Thy foes have fallen, Thy land is free, Thy fame is pure; Now we must ride To greener worlds, To tell Odin That Hakon comes.

An interpretation of the valkyries is not necessary. The god of war sends his thoughts and his will to the carnage of the battle-field in the form of mighty armed women, in the same manner as he sends his ravens over all the earth.

Ethically considered, then, Odin symbolizes the matchless hope of victory that inspired the Norsemen, and from which their daring exploits sprang; and we know that this hope of victory did not leave the hero when he fell bleeding on the field of battle, but followed him borne in valkyrian arms to Valhal, and thence he soared on eagle pinions to Gimle on the everlasting hights.

Footnote 35:

Compare _Shakespeare_—Shylock and the pound of flesh:

... No jot of blood; The words expressly are “a pound of flesh.”

Footnote 36:

Freyja, whom the gods had promised the giant, was Oder’s wife.

Footnote 37:

Jack the Giant-killer.

Footnote 38:

The vala, or prophetess.

Footnote 39:

Odin.

Footnote 40:

Odin.

Footnote 41:

See Vocabulary under the word _Mimer_.

Footnote 42:

He who hardens the hide.

Footnote 43:

Fence-breaker.

Footnote 44:

Compare with this myth Dido and the founding of Carthage.

Footnote 45:

Rind was daughter of Billing.

Footnote 46:

The goddess of the sea.

Footnote 47:

Suttung.

Footnote 48:

Ygdrasil.

Footnote 49:

Roots of trees were especially fitted for hurtful trolldom (witchcraft). They produced mortal wounds.

Footnote 50:

The old heathen Norsemen sprinkled their children with water when they named them.

Footnote 51:

The waker of the people.

Footnote 52:

Odin.

Footnote 53:

If the _North American Review_, or anybody else, thinks this is proof of barbarism, we can refer them to the monks in Trier, who preserved the skull of Saint Theodulf and gave sick people drink from it; and we know several other such instances. Our Norse ancestors were not, then, in this respect any more savage than the Christian bishops and monks. See _North American Review_, January, 1875, p. 195.

Footnote 54:

See Thomas Carlyle’s _Heroes and Hero-worship_.