Chapter X: Introduction

THE TWO EDDAS, THE ELDER AND THE YOUNGER, THE POETIC AND THE
PROSE.—CONTENTS OF THE FORMER.—DIVISION INTO CLASSES. 1. THE MYSTICAL.
2. THE MYTHIC-DIDACTIC. 3. THE PURELY MYTHOLOGICAL. 4. THE
MYTHIC-HISTORICAL.—POEMS OF EACH CLASS.—THE PROSE EDDA.—SNORRO
STURLESON.

THE religion of the ancient Northmen—which, though it has many points
of affinity with other religions, has yet a sufficient number of its
own peculiarities to constitute it a distinct system—has been always
admitted to be a most interesting and most curious subject of inquiry,
not merely in the north of Europe, but in England, in Germany, and in
France. Yet until the last few years, the popular notions concerning
it were vague and inaccurate; and for the best of all reasons—that, of
the two sources from which alone a full knowledge of it could be
acquired, the one had been carelessly, the other partially published.

The two works to which we allude are the two Eddas, the Elder and the
Younger; the former attributed to Sæmund, the other to Snorro, the son
of Sturlo, both Icelanders and both Christians,—the one born in the
eleventh, the other in the twelfth century.

Sæmund, who, from his varied knowledge, is styled _hin Frode_, or the
Learned, and by posterity at least was regarded as a wizard, had
greater advantages of education than we should have expected in an
Icelander of that remote period. He studied, we are told, both in
France and Germany, and is supposed to have visited Rome. On his
return he settled at Oddé, in the northern part of the island,
embraced holy orders, and was entrusted with the cure of souls. Much
of his time, however, was devoted to the education of youth, and to
literary pursuits. Whether, as Christianity had not long been
established in that remote island, he was still in some degree
influenced by the lingering spirit of paganism, or whether (a more
probable supposition) a taste superior to the age in which he lived
led him to preserve, instead of destroying, the remaining monuments of
paganism, we are indebted to him for one of the most curious books
that has ever occupied the attention of the human mind. This was the
Elder Edda, the first part of which was published for the first time
in 1787. The second part did not issue from the press until 1818, nor
the third until 1828. No writer, therefore, prior to these years,
could have any just notice of this venerable collection of pieces, or,
consequently, of the religion which they illustrate. To the advantage
furnished to the modern student by their publication must be added the
vast erudition of Finn Magnusen, editor of the third or last part,
whose Mythological Lexicon and Critical Dissertations (especially the
one elaborately devoted to “the Edda Doctrine and its Origin”) have
not only exhausted the subject, but pointed out many of the affinities
between the Scandinavian religion and that of the most celebrated
nations both in ancient and modern times.

The Elder, or Poetic Edda, consists of about forty poems,—all
anonymous, all, with one exception, pagan compositions, though written
at different periods, the most recent of them bearing the impress of
considerable antiquity. They have been arranged, perhaps somewhat
arbitrarily, into four different classes, according to the nature of
the subjects. These are—1. the Mystical; 2. the Mythic-didactic; 3.
the purely Mythological; and 4. the Mythic-historical.

1. Of the Mystical class, the most prominent is the _Voluspa_
(Voluspa), the oracle of Vala the prophetess. This contains a rapid,
abrupt, and very dark account of the whole system, beginning with the
creation, and ending with the destruction of the universe by fire. All
things, however, are not to be destroyed: two individuals, a man and a
woman, are to be saved, and made the progenitors of a new and fairer
world. It should be observed, that in the Scandinavian as in the Greek
and Roman superstition, superior sanctity is ascribed to the women.
They alone knew the fates; even Odin had to consult them when he
wished to look beyond the dark cloud that concealed the future from
the gods no less than from mankind.

The _Grougaldor_, or the magical song of Groa, is another of this
class. It consists of terms and precepts, the use of which is to
produce the most astounding supernatural effects. These “words of
might” were not peculiar to the Odinic worship. They pervade still
more thoroughly that which Zoroaster instituted, between whom and the
northern prophet there are more points of resemblance than the learned
have yet discerned. Both, for example, pretended to magical powers,
because both found the pretension already in existence when they
entered on their respective careers; and neither was willing to be
thought inferior to the members of the priestly caste which he
undertook to subvert. The magic of the Finns and Lets Odin stigmatized
as _black_ magic—as inculcated by the powers of darkness for the
injury of mankind; but _his_ was the white, the pure magic, the kingly
art. He found a school already established in the north; and with all
his power he could not wholly extirpate it. There seems, indeed,
reason to infer that he connived at the union of many native rites
with his own; or, at least, that if _he_ did not, his immediate
successors did. Just so it was with the renowned Magian. In
contemplating the origin of his religion, we may either smile, or be
provoked, at the prodigies which every where meet us. It is a religion
of magic; it boasts of supernatural powers; it openly owns not merely
the possibility, but the necessity, of miraculous results, when the
words of might which it prescribes are duly pronounced. And if
miracles and prodigies constitute its peculiar character even at this
day, in the comparatively civilised Hindostan, they were doubly
necessary when Zoroaster first announced it to the world. To them he
boldly appealed for the truth of his mission. The miracles which
preceded, those which accompanied, his birth, may be seen in the
elaborate account of him prefixed by Anquetil du Perron to his
translation of the Zendavesta. Throughout his life, if any faith is to
be placed in his biographers, he wrought, or pretended to work,
miracles by his magical terms. Yet he exceeded even Odin in the zeal
with which he inveighed against the magic of his rivals. Against the
magicians his most terrible anathemas were hurled; against them he
waged a war of extermination, and justified the hostility by alleging
the express command of heaven. But they were the servants of Ahriman,
the irreconcilable enemies of Ormuzd—of every thing that is good—of
every thing that issues from the benevolent deity. In their hands,
magic was sure to become an instrument of evil; but in those of
himself and his disciples, it could not fail to be an instrument of
happiness. In the former case it must be fatal, in the latter highly
useful, to human nature: hence the necessity of destroying in the one
case that which should be piously maintained in the other. Such, too,
was the conduct of Odin. There was, however, this difference between
the two legislators: while the Median regarded women as absolutely
impure, and confided the celebration of all his rites, magical or
religious, to the men; the Scythian paid peculiar honour to the sex:
women were allowed, enjoined, to perform the most solemn, the most
awful, ceremonies of the new faith. Yet the men were not excluded from
the privilege. There were colleges or fraternities of wizards from the
earliest known periods of Scandinavian history, down to the time of
Harald Harfager, or even later still. Rognevald, a son of that
monarch, was burned to death, with eighty of his associates, on the
charge of exercising a magic condemned by Odin, and emanating from the
evil powers.

The _Solar Liod_, or Song of the Sun, is almost wholly the composition
of Sæmund. But then he derived his materials from ancient pagan times.

2. Of the mytho-didactic poems, the first place may well be assigned
to the _Vafthrudnis-mâl_. It is, like many of the other Odinic pieces,
in the form of a dialogue. Odin expresses his resolution to visit
Vafthrudnir, a famous giant or genius, and of contending with him in
science. Frigga, his queen, “to whom the future is known,” attempts to
dissuade him from the journey, because “no one of the genii is to be
compared with Vafthrudnir in wisdom and valour.” If Odin should be
vanquished in the contest, he must perish, and with him all the gods
who were dependent on him. But he persists, assumes the disguise of a
weary traveller, and proceeds to the palace of the sage giant. On this
poem, however, we shall not further dilate, as a translation of it may
be found in a volume of the present collection.[16] This contest
between the chief of the gods and the giant is derived from the same
source as the war of the Titans with Jove.

_Grimnis-mâl_, or Grimner’s Song, is another of the mytho-didactic
class. Grimner is no other than Odin, who has assumed the disguise of
an aged minstrel, for a purpose explained by the Icelandic
introduction to the poem. King Rodung had two sons, the one eight, the
other ten years of age. One day they embarked in a boat to pass some
hours in fishing. A storm arising, they were driven into an unknown
sea, and cast upon a strange coast. Approaching a hut, they were
hospitably received by the master and mistress, who seemed to be a
rustic pair, but who in reality were Odin and Frigga. Agner, the
elder, was the favourite of the latter, Geirrod, the younger, of the
former. In the hut they remained the whole winter; and when spring
arrived, they were led to the sea-coast, and embarked in a new vessel
which their hosts presented to them. When bidding adieu, the male
rustic whispered something into Geirrod’s ear. The purport of this
secret may be inferred from the conduct of the prince just as he
reached land. As he leaped on shore, he pushed the boat away,
exclaiming to his brother Agner, “Go, where the evil genii may seize
thee!” Repairing to his father’s court, he found that father no more,
and he was immediately proclaimed king of the country. On the other
hand, Agner was among the giants or evil genii, and married to a woman
of that hated race. Great, therefore, was the contrast between the
fortunes of the two; and Odin one day, from the highest heaven,
pointed it out in triumph to his goddess-queen. Frigga declared that
Geirrod was undeserving of the good fortune; that he was a niggard who
starved his dependents and guests. This the god refused to credit; and
when she persisted in the charge, he assumed a mortal form to try the
experiment. But what man can equal a woman, either god or goddess, in
cunning? Frigga sent one of her confidential messengers to Geirrod,
telling him to be on his guard against a wise magician then in his
dominions, who had resolved to destroy him: that magician was to be
known by this token—that no dog would bark at him. The royal command
was therefore given that dogs should be set on all who approached the
palace, and whomsoever they refused to assail should be brought before
him. A man, covered with a blue peltz, was brought before him and
questioned; but the stranger would return no other answer than that he
was called Grimner. In great wrath, the king placed him between two
great fires—an infallible way of discovering a wizard—and commanded
that he should receive no food. There he remained eight days and eight
nights, suffering from the heat and from thirst, when Agner, the son
of Geirrod, a boy of ten years, took pity on him, and presented him
with a full horn, observing that his father did wrong thus to punish a
guiltless man. Here the piece opens: Odin exclaims that the fire is
hot; and prophesies that the royal youth shall, for this service, soon
hold the sceptre of the Goths. He then proceeds—somewhat oddly, only
immortal beings may be privileged to say or do what they please—to
describe in succession the twelve mansions of heaven. (To this
description we shall afterwards advert, when we endeavour to explain
the cosmogony of the Scandinavians.) He ended by declaring who he was;
and that the death of Geirrod was at hand. In great fear, the king
arose to release the divine speaker; but stumbling, the point of his
sword entered his body, and Agner was immediately proclaimed.

As many poems on the Edda will hereafter occupy our attention, we
shall only observe that the _Alvis-mâl_, or song concerning the dwarf
Alvis; the _Hyndlu-liod_, or song concerning Hyndla; and the
_Fiolsvinns-mâl_, or story about Fiolsvinr, are of the same class, and
equally conversant with mythological subjects. The second of these
also mentions the names of some Norwegian jarls who traced their
origin to a divine source. The _Hava-mâl_, or sublime discourse of
Odin, concludes this class of poems. It consists partly of moral
precepts, some of which are very good; while others are dictated by a
mind more cunning than wise; and partly of the wonderful powers
attached to certain runes. For the latter we have no taste; of the
former, half a dozen specimens may be given.

“Remain not long a guest in the house of another; for he who does so
becomes a burden to his host.”

“A secret can be kept by _one_ person only,—by him whom it concerns.
If two know it, there is danger; if three know it, it is no longer a
secret.”

“Be thou the friend of thy friend’s friend, and in no wise the friend
of thine enemy’s friend.”

“If thou hast a true friend, and keepest nothing from him, join thy
heart with his, exchange gifts with him, and visit him often. The path
untrodden is soon overgrown.”

“If thou hast a friend whom thou canst not trust, but yet wouldst
obtain a benefit from him, speak fairly to him, but keep thine own
secret: return him falsehood for falsehood.”

“Trust not to a woman’s word: her heart is moveable as the wheel at
which she spins, and deceit is cherished in her breast.”

“The child of one’s old age is the most precious.”

“Flocks and herds perish; so do friends and kindred; such will be our
own lot. But one thing there is that will never perish,—the good man’s
fame.”

3. The poems purely mythological are of a more interesting class. The
_Hymis-guida_, or song concerning Hymir, describes an entertainment
given by Ægir, the sea-god, to the deities of the Scandinavian
Olympus. Ægir, to his great dismay, has no cauldron large enough to
brew mead in for such thirsty guests; and Thor goes to borrow or steal
one from the great Hymir. This entertainment gave rise to another
poem, the _Loka-glespa_, or quarrelling of Loka with the assembled
guests. It is curious as showing the estimation in which the gods were
held by one of their own number. A more imaginative production is the
_Hamars-heimt_, or recovery of Thor’s mallet, which the guests had
stolen, and which Thrym, one of the number, had buried eight miles
below the surface of the ground. The _Rafna-galdur-Odins_, or raven
song of Odin, describes the lamentations of the gods at their
approaching annihilation. The _Skirnirs-for_, or journey of Skirnir to
the region of the giants, in search of a wife for Freyr, one of the
gods, is graphic, and strikingly illustrative of northern mythology.
The _Vegtams-guida_, or Song of the Traveller, contains the descent of
Odin to consult the charmed prophetess Vala concerning the fate of
Baldur. This piece we have already translated.[17]

That most of the preceding poems were composed at a period lost in the
depths of antiquity, and in a region less remote than Scandinavia from
the cradle of the human race, is exceedingly probable. Such are the
Voluspa, Vafthrudnis-mâl, Grimnis-mâl, Alvis-mâl, Rafna-galdur-Odins,
and Vegtams-guida. In regard to Hymis-guida, Hamars-heimt,
Skirnirs-for, Hyndlu-liod, &c., they do not bear the impress of so
high an antiquity: they are supposed to be the productions of the
northern muse. They have their interest; but that interest is much
stronger when we read the olden pieces. These have been compared by a
living writer[18] “to the organic remains, the wrecks, of a more
ancient world; or to the gigantic ruins of Egypt and Hindostan,
speaking a more perfect civilisation, the glories of which have long
since departed.” We see, however, no reason for assuming this “more
perfect civilisation:” the nation or people who knew such doctrines
might have been ignorant enough, while their priests were
comparatively learned. The oriental impress which they bear cannot be
mistaken; still less can we overlook the extreme antiquity which they
may claim. Kindred with the most ancient superstitions of Rome, of
Greece, of Persia, they must have been derived from the same common
source.

4. Of the mytho-historical poems, there are many. In them magic is so
joined with the ordinary knowledge of life, the supernatural with the
human, that we are inclined to reject even that which has a real
historical foundation. In this respect, however, they are like the
poems of all heroic ages, and not more censurable than those of Homer
or of Hindostan. A more interesting fact is, that from these lays have
sprung most of the great Teutonic fictions which adorn the
Nibelungenlied, and many even of those which we denominate the
romantic or the chivalric. Probably the incidents are perversions of
real facts, which happened in a period approaching that of Attila and
his Huns, whose exploits occupy the attention of the northern muse.
Some of them, we know, were sung at the court of Olaf Trygveson, the
Norwegian king. It would not, however, be difficult to trace others to
a higher source than the age of Attila,—to the source whence the
heroic classical lore of Greece was derived; and others again bear a
marked affinity with the legends of the Arabian Nights.

The prose or younger Edda, usually, but perhaps erroneously, ascribed
to Snorro Sturleson, has also many of these chivalric or
mytho-historical lays. Of this venerable monument of antiquity the
world could form no just notion prior to the year 1818, when that
admirable scholar professor Rask published his edition. The edition of
Resenius—the only one previously known to Europe—is an imperfect work,
derived from corrupted MSS. and the notes of the Scalds are often
confounded with the text. It consists of several parts. The _Formali_,
which is the introduction, has many legends and fables respecting the
descent of nations, especially of the Scandinavian. They are evidently
from both Asiatic and European sources. After the introduction, comes
the _Gylfa-ginning_, or deception of Gylfa. This personage was a king
of Swithiof (part of Sweden) and a famous magician,—the head of the
native magical college which the Aser were endeavouring to subvert. To
account for their superior power, the result of their superior wisdom,
he determined to assume a disguise, and proceed at once to the cradle
of the Aser in the east. Under the name of Gangler (the traveller), he
reaches the celestial city, and finds an oracle capable of resolving
all his doubts, of removing all his ignorance. To each of his
questions the reply is in full, explaining the mythology of the elder
Edda, illustrated by extracts from the Voluspa, the Hava-mâl, and the
predictions of the Scalds. This part of the work is, in its design,
and partly in its execution, so similar to the Vafthrudnis-mâl in the
elder Edda, that it must have been derived from it, or from a source
common to both. The _second_ part of the prose Edda, called
_Braga-raedar_, contains the recitation of his best pieces by the
divine Braga, at the banquet of the sea-god Ægir. The _Eptirmali_ is a
kind of epilogue written by Icelandic poets immediately prior to
Snorro, or possibly by Snorro himself. It is an attempt to explain
many of the fables in the Edda, by the circumstances of the Trojan
war. In addition to all these subjects, we have the _Skalda_, which is
a kind of _ars poetica_, for the use of poetical students.

While mentioning the prose Edda, we are naturally drawn to its reputed
compiler Snorro, the son of Sturle, who was also the compiler of the
Heimskringla, our only sure guide for northern history down to the
13th century. This extraordinary man was born in 1178, near the bay of
Hoams-fiord, on the domain of his family. He was, consequently, above
a century later than Sæmund, whose birth was between 1050 and 1060.
His descent was illustrious; it could be traced to the ancient
Ynglings and to the jarls of Moria. In his fourth year he was sent to
Oddé, which, as we have before related[19], had been the residence of
that remarkable priest; and, strange to say, he was educated under the
direction of Sæmund’s grandson, Jon Loptston. Here he remained until
his twentieth year, and was instructed in Greek no less than in Roman
literature. The MSS. collections made by Sæmund and Ari Frode, were
his delight; and to them he was indebted for the ruling bias of his
life. In 1197 he left Oddé, and by marrying the daughter of a rich
priest, greatly increased his patrimonial inheritance. In every thing
fortune smiled upon him; he became in a few years the richest man on
the island; and when he appeared at the Al-thing, he was generally
escorted by a body of some hundred horsemen. In 1202, he removed his
residence from Borg, one of his patrimonial seats, to the estate of
Reykholt, which he had also inherited. This place he fortified—a proof
that deadly feuds were common—and adorned it with works that evinced
alike his genius and his riches. In 1213, he was raised to the dignity
of logsogomadr[20], or chief judge of the island. No man could be
better qualified for duties, the nature and origin of which had
occupied so much of his time. In 1218 he visited Norway, where he was
well received by king and nobles. His fame, indeed, had travelled
before him. Among his poetical compositions were some odes in honour
of the great; and these, (for flattery has every where the same
effect) procured him many valuable presents, not only in Norway, but
in Sweden. His sojourn in West and East Gothland doubtless originated
in his desire to collect all the information which tradition, and
possibly MSS., could furnish him in regard to his ancestors, and the
Yngling princes. But his patriotism seems to have been inferior to his
genius. That he entered into a conspiracy for the complete subjection
of his country to the Norwegian court is certain. In 1220, both
enriched and honoured, he returned to Iceland; but we no longer
perceive in him the great qualities which had led to his election in
1213. Avaricious, haughty, revengeful, he made enemies on every side,
and in 1237 was compelled to seek a refuge from their fury. Again he
repaired to Norway, where he found one of his old patrons, Skule, the
jarl, plotting for the crown of the realm. That plot he favoured; he
even wrote a poem in support of that nobleman’s claims. Yet he also
flattered the king, from whom he received the title of jarl. But he
had designs deeper than either Skule or the king suspected; and in a
short time some of his intrigues were known to that monarch. He was
forbidden to sail for Iceland; and when he departed in defiance of
that prohibition, secret instructions were sent to his son-in-law,
Gissur Thorwaldson, to seize him and send him bound to Norway; or if
this should be impossible, to put him to death. The extremities to
which feuds in a barbarous age may be carried, are clearly illustrated
by the conduct of Gissur. Though so nearly connected with the
historian; though formerly the most intimate of his friends; he
performed the more atrocious part of the proposal. The great wealth of
Snorro, there can be no doubt, was one inducement to the deed of
blood; but this must have been inferior to the feeling of vengeance.
His measures required caution, for Snorro was powerful; and to be
prepared, had only to be warned. His design was penetrated by one of
Snorro’s friends, who in a Runic letter acquainted him with his
danger. But this letter the poet could not understand;—we are told
even that he could not read it; and that all to whom he showed it were
equally unable to decipher it. However this be, Thorwaldson, marching
at the head of a strong body of men belonging to a clan at deadly feud
with his victim, hastened to Reykholt, where he surprised and murdered
the noble owner, September 22., 1241.

Snorro, as we have observed, is the reputed collector of the prose
Edda, and of the Heimskringla. A collector merely he seems to have
been; but he exhibited great judgment in selecting, arranging, and
modernising the poetic compositions which he followed. For his
history, no less than his mythology, the pagan Scalds were his
authorities.

So much for matter purely introductory. From the two Eddas, assisted
by the commentaries of the best northern scholars, we proceed to lay
before the reader the most striking features of the cosmogony and
religion of the Scandinavians; and to accompany them by such
reflections as may seem necessary to show their origin and nature.