Chapter XIV: Section II (2)

“The god now became elated at the near prospect of measuring himself with the serpent, and gave full liberty to his thoughts. If he could succeed in slaying it,

‘By Yggdrasil[79], the feat
Would glad me more, by far,
In Valhall than to beat
Ten score Einheriar.

What fruitful seeds of ill
To mar man’s mortal state,
And earth with woes to fill,
From the worm emanate!
His pestilential breath
Fevers and plagues doth cause,
And each disease to death
Which man untimely draws.

When one in manhood’s prime
Feels his approaching end,
And ere yet lapsed his time,
To Hela’s power must bend;
When his heart-broken spouse
Sees hope’s last promise fail,
Then his fell might he’ll rouse
To mock the widow’s wail.

Her babe, which will not rest
When the pale mother clasps,
And gives in vain the breast,
Struggling for life it gasps.
Poor babe, as early rose
Late fresh—she sees its eye
In death for ever close—
Nor weeps for agony:

When one, who purely burns,
Absent for many a year,
To his true love returns
And finds her on her bier.
When from a mourning realm
Some virtuous prince is ta’en,
Or chief has bow’d his helm;
Then sure the foul snake’s seen

Writhing for joy. Their birth
All serpents, which infest
Man’s central spot of earth,
Draw from his nostril’s blast.
The great snake, whose wide jowl,
(To th’ southwards, far away)
Will gulp a raging bull,
Through him first saw the day.

Its tail wound round an oak
It watcheth long its prey,
Which from the affrighted flock
Struggling it drags away.
Others, with diamond eyes,
To Askur’s mortal race,
Death-doomed! though less in size,
Alas! not fatal less.

Fair sight their forms to view
Basking in new-donn’d sheen,
To their’s the violet’s blue
Must yield, or emerald’s green:
They know, by wizard gaze,
Coil’d ’neath some leafy bower,
Their prey with fear to glaze,
And charm him to their power.

Gaunt Fenris, Loptur’s son,
Who loves to prowl the night,
Bewilder’d travellers down
Hurling from rocky height:
When bloody treason’s rife,
When for some murder foul
The bandit whets his knife,
The wolf for joy doth howl.

All who delight in blood
From him beginning have;
From him the tiger brood,
The hyæna’s traitor laugh;
The like each robber beast,
Which from the fair light shrinks,
Fitchet of plunderers least,
Marten, and fox, and lynx.

For nought hath Fenris ruth,
When midnight winds blow hoarse,
His sacrilegious tooth
Tears from its grave the corse—
Still ’twere my chiefest joy
The foul worm and his brood
Of reptiles to destroy.
Grieves me that man the food

Of crawling worms should be:
This slain, his life should pass,
From loathsome sickness free,
In years of happiness.
And, when th’ o’erpeopled earth
No more her sons could feed,
The bravest should stand forth,
And like good warriors bleed.

Not hatred should unsheath
Their swords, nor lust of power,
But a soul-warming wrath,
Gone when the fight was o’er.
From some dark cloud the fray
I’d watch, my bolts in hand
The boldest on their way
To Odin’s hall to send.”

Thus mused the Aser Thor,
And pull’d with all his might,
Each time he struck his oar
The dark-green wave turn’d white.
The more his anger burn’d
The huge boat sped the more,
Seem’d as the waves it spurn’d
Skimming like Dolphin o’er—

So swiftly on it flew,
The sides began to split,
The sea so fast came through,
The twain in water sit.
Quick Hymir sprang to bale
It out, and loud to roar,
(His giant-heart ’gan fail)
‘Avast there! back your oar.

‘An you keep on this rate
We soon to Ran shall go’—
Quoth Thor: ‘Take heart, must yet
A score good leagues or so.’
‘Score leagues!’ cried Hymir: ‘why,
Art mad! mark’st not the storm!
E’en now I can descry
Where lies fell Midgard’s worm.’

‘And what care I for worm!’
Cried Thor, the fisher good:
‘The bleak north’s bitterest storm
But fans my heated blood—
I love the tempest’s roar—
Ha! there the foul worm struck,
Now I’ll take in mine oar,
And try with line my luck.’

Then rising to full height,
The iron kedge he took,
Which, though it seem’d him light,
Must serve him for a hook.
The gory bullock’s head
He took him for a bait—
The giant, pale with dread,
In the stern, trembling, sate.

For line, he next made loose
His belt, and one end pass’d
Twice round his waist, with noose
Well bound to th’ other fast
The baited hook he tied,
And in the ocean threw:
O’er the boat’s yielding side
The girdle, hissing, flew.”
_Ohlenschlager_.

“It must be confessed,” says the prose Edda, “that Thor here
made quite as great a fool of Jormungandur as Utgard’s-Lok did
of him, when the giant king caused him to lift up the worm,
believing it was a cat. The worm gulped down the ox’s head so
ravenously, that the hook stuck deep in his jaws. As soon as he
perceived this, he plunged with such violence, that both Thor’s
fists struck against the sides of the boat, on which the god’s
anger got up and his strength at the same time, and he pulled so
furiously against the snake, that both his legs went through the
boat, and he remained standing on the bottom of the sea. He now
pulled up the serpent to the edge of the boat, and, to say the
truth, it was a terrible sight to see Thor look so grim at the
serpent, and the serpent all the while gaping and spewing out
poison against Thor. It is reported also that the giant Hymir
changed colour, and became white with fear, when he saw the
snake, and the dark blue sea breaking through the sides of the
boat.

“In the same moment Thor seized hold of his hammer and swung it
round in the air, but the giant fumbled about for his knife, and
scored Thor’s knot over, by which means the snake got loose and
sank down to the bottom of the sea. Thor threw his hammer after
it, and it has been asserted that he thus knocked its head off
against the breakers. But I think that it is pretty certain that
the Midgard’s worm still lives and lies in the sea. Thor then
lifted his arm and gave Hymir such a cuff on the side of the
head that he fell overboard, and the soles of his feet were
turned up in the air, but Thor waded to shore.”[80]

The contrast between the preceding version and the simple relation in the venerable poetic Edda will, no doubt, appear striking to the reader, and abundantly confirm all the observations we have made on the subject.

THOR AND THE GIANT THRYM.

The poem of _Thrym’s-guida_, or the song about Thrym, in the elder Edda, has a physical meaning, though that meaning is dark. Awaking one morning, Thor could not find his hammer. Like Jove he shook his head and his beard, and groped about in every direction. Calling Loke to him, he said, “Here is a mishap, never before known in earth or heaven,—I have lost my hammer!” No doubt but it had been stolen during the night by one of the giants, who were always on the alert to injure the Aser. Both gods then went to Freya, to borrow her hawk’s-dress, as Loke had before borrowed it to recover Iduna.[81] “And thou should’st have it,” replied the goddess, “if it were gold, nay, if it were even silver.”[82] Loke assumed the dress, and flew into the giant region of Utgard. There he found Thrym, one of Utgard’s lords, making golden collars for his dogs, dressing the manes of his horses, and singing all the time. Seeing Loke, he inquired, “What news of the Aser? What of the elves? What brings thee alone to Jotunheim?” “Neither Aser nor elves are very well, just now:—hast thou hidden Thor’s hammer?” “That I have, eight miles below the earth’s surface; and regain it shall you never, unless you bring me the goddess Freya to wife!” The condition was a hard one. Freya was the queen of love; she was the Venus of Asgard; and she was also the moon,—two things much wanted in the cold dark region of Jotunheim. Away flew Loke, his wings resounding, until he reached Asgard, where he was anxiously met by Thor. “Hast thou been to Giant-land? And hast thou succeeded in thine errand?” “I have been to Giant-land, and I have succeeded in my errand. Thrym, the lord of the frost giants, has thy mallet, and thy mallet he will not restore, unless he has Freya to wife!” The loss of Freya would be a great loss, but that of the thunderbolt was worse; for how without it could Asgard be defended against the giants? Away went the two gods to Freya, and the Thunderer most unceremoniously bade her to prepare herself for a husband, and for a ride to Jotunheim:—

Angry was Freya,
And she trembled (with rage),
The whole palace of the gods
Was shaken.

The gods and goddesses were now assembled to deliberate on other means of recovering the hammer.

Heimdall proposed that Thor himself should assume the bridal dress, with the habit and ornaments of Freya, and proceed to Jotunheim:—

Let us make on him
The keys to jingle[83];
And a woman’s dress
To flow below his knees;
And on his breast
The jewell’d ornaments;
And let us put on him
The handsome head-gear.

Thor did not much relish the proposal, from a fear that the gods would hereafter hold him to be degraded,—would regard him as really a woman. Loke told him, however, that he had only to choose between the mode of recovering his mallet, and of seeing Asgard in possession of the giants. He then suffered himself to be conveyed in the manner proposed. Then spake Loke, the son of Laufeya:—

“I as thy servant
With thee will go:
We together will ride
To the land of the giants.”

The chariot was brought out, the goats were yoked, and the two Aser rapidly proceeded to their destination,—so rapidly, that the rocks split, and the earth blazed under the shining wheels:—

Then spake Thrym,
Lord of the Thurser[84];
“Arise, ye giants,
And strew the benches.
Then bring unto me
Freya my bride,
The daughter of Niord
From Nocturn:
“Bring into the bower
The cows with golden horns,
And the coal-black oxen,
The giant’s delight.
Many jewels have I
And many treasures:
Of Freya alone
Have I need.”

The giants arrived, and the bridal feast was prepared. Great was the surprise of Thrym to see his bride eat a whole ox, and eight salmon into the bargain; and to send after all three barrels of mead:—

“Who ever saw a bride
Eat so greedily?
Never did I see one
Devour so much;
Nor any virgin
Swill so much mead!”

The reply of Loke, disguised as a handmaid, was ready:—

“Nothing has Freya tasted
These eight nights (days),[85]
So great was her desire
To be in Jotunheim.”

The giant in a gallant style wished to kiss his bride; but no sooner did he lift the veil, and see her looks, than he started back in great alarm:—

“Why so angry
The glance of Freya?
I see from her eyes
The very fire doth issue.”

The reply of Loke, the handmaid, was equally ready:—

“No sleep hath Freya had
These eight nights:
Such was her longing
To visit Jotunheim!”

The giant’s sister came for a bridal present, and one she was about to get that she little expected. The mallet, by Thrym’s command, was now brought forth, that the wedding might be solemnised over it. The god laughed as he grasped his well-known bolt; and no sooner did he grasp it than he killed Thrym, the sister, and all assembled.[86]

According to Magnussen, the physical meaning of the poem is this. During the winter, Thor, the god of thunder, sleeps; and Thrym, the lord of that season, hides the thunderbolt. Loke (_flame_, and by an extension of the metaphor, _heat_) is sent in pursuit of it. The sun and moon were very meet and very natural gifts for the inhabitants of the dark region to solicit from the gods; and the world, on the present occasion, must have been left in darkness, or rather perhaps in cold, but for the interference of Thor. In the foundation of his theory, the critic is doubtless correct; but in the explanation of the attendant circumstances,—that in which the god assumes the female habit—he is whimsical enough. The truth is, that the foundation only can be traced in any of their myths: the circumstances are introduced purely for the sake of the embellishment, or for ensuring greater probability to the fable.

Before we dismiss Thor, we must advert to the goddess _Sif_, his wife. The word means a conjunction, kindred, and probably she was one of his family. By her he had two sons, Magne and Mode, and two daughters, Thrude and Lora. He was not her first husband, whose name does not appear; but she had a son named Uller by that husband.[92] She excelled in chastity, and was much worshipped, not in Scandinavia only, but among the Vends, and perhaps the Slavonians, as a personification of the summer-earth. Her greatest pride is her fair hair, which, like the hammer of Thor, and the magic ring possessed by Odin, was the work of the dwarfs. She is thus described by Ohlenschlager:

Sif, tall and fair with native grace,
To none in beauty need give place
Save her whom Odin called to light,
To make the erst dull world more bright.
Fair tho’ she be, to Freya ne’er
Can stately Sif in form compare.
Not her’s the clear eye’s speaking glance,
Age-frozen blood might make to dance:
Or heart which passion ne’er had felt
Like snow ’neath mid-day sun to melt.

* * * * * * * * *

Sif seems some Amazon to be,
Her look replete with dignity,
Her eye beams no impassioned glance,
But rests in cold indifference.
Her round arms, form’d alike to prove
The contests or of war or love;
Her swan-like bosom’s faultless curve
Would Bragi’s golden lyre deserve.
Smaller though Freya’s hand, not snow
Than Sifs, fresh fallen on mountain brow,
More white, nor softer virgin down
Of Eyder-fowl, nor breast of swan.
Two pencill’d brows of darkest brown
Meet on her front, and seem to frown:
What gentler beauty would deface,
To hers but adds another grace;
Her pearly teeth, of dazzling white,
With ruby lips form contrast bright;
But her first charm, past all compare,
Is her long, silken, amber hair.

NIORD, FREYR, FREYA.

Niord, a lord of the Vaner, obtained, as we have before related[93], a share in the government of the Aser. He could not, indeed, do otherwise after the junction of the two people. Mythologically, he is the lord of Vindheim, the region of the winds, and consequently the ally of Ægir, the god of the sea. His palace, Noatun, is represented as on the borders of the ocean. Thus, Ohlenschlager, who may be followed where poetical description merely is required:—

Niord who with ocean’s god
Full oft in league is found,
Loves o’er the raging flood
In swift career to bound.
Skimming each billow’s back,
Loud neighs his coal-black steed:
On the calm wave no track
He leaves—so great his speed.[94]

Niord was twice married. By his first wife, who was also his sister, and we are distinctly informed that the union of such near relatives was peculiar to the Vanir (the custom, however, was common to the Egyptians, the Persians, and the royal family of Peru), he had two children, Freyr[95] and Freya.[96] His second wife was Skada, daughter of the giant Thiasse. The circumstances which led to his marriage were these. No sooner did Skada hear that her father had been killed by Thor[97], than she armed herself, and proceeded to Asgard to avenge his death. As the condition of peace, the gods proposed that she should take a husband from them, but that, while choosing, she should be blindfolded. She groped about, and at length fixed on one whose feet were small and well formed, whom she thought to be Balder. It was Niord; and the marriage was celebrated. The pair, however, could not agree about their place of residence. The bride could not bear the sea-shore; the waves, she observed, would not let her sleep, and she longed for her native mountains. He was no less hostile to her father’s abode. A compromise was at length effected; the couple were to live nine days in Thrymheim, and three days in Noatun; that is, nine days in the mountains, and three on the sea-coast. But this compromise was of no long duration. The two were so dissimilar in character that they could not agree; there was a separation; and Skada became the wife of Odin.[98] Of Niord we shall only add that though little is said of him in the Edda, he must have been a primary deity from the terms of the oath solemnly taken by the Scandinavians:—“So help me Freyr, and Niord, and the mighty Aser!”

Freyr, the son of Niord, has been mentioned as one of the twelve ruling gods of Asgard—as god of sunshine, of rain, and consequently of vegetation. Alfheim, his residence, the kingdom of the light elves, was given him in the morning of time, when he had cut his first tooth. One day he had the presumption to ascend Lidskialf, the awful seat of Odin[99]; and he was punished for it by falling in love with Gerda, daughter of the giant Gymer, whom he saw issue from her father’s palace in the North. Surpassing, indeed, was the maiden’s beauty; it was so bright as to enlighten the whole region. He gazed and loved; and after the beautiful vision had departed, he descended, melancholy and miserable, to his own palace. What hope was there of winning a giant maiden? Would the gods themselves sanction such a connection? Sleep and appetite forsook him. In much anxiety, Niord besought his confidential messenger, Skirnir, to draw from Freyr the cause of his affliction. With some persuasion, Skirnir consented, and by much entreaty obtained the secret:

From Gymer’s house
I have seen a maiden issue
For whom I long.
Her fair arms shone
So as to enlighten air and sea.
Dearer is the maid to me
Than ever was maid to any youth.
But of gods or demigods
Not one will wish
That we should be united.

Skirnir loves the lord with whom he was reared; and he proposes, if Freyr will give him the horse “regardless of flame,” and the sword, to go and win the lady for him. Having mounted, he thus addressed the animal:—

“Dark is the night without;
Yet it is time for us to go
Through the misty hills,
Through the land of the Thurser.
We both must return,
Or both be seized
By the powerful giant.”

He rode to Jotunheim, and before the gate of Gymer saw fierce dogs. On a hill close by was a herdsman, to whom he rode, and inquired by what means he might pass the dogs so as to speak with Gymer’s daughter. The herdsman replied, that he must either be dead already, or about to die, to venture on such an errand; never could he speak to the lady. Skirnir observed, that he could but die; that he feared not death; and he dismounted. The noise attracted the attention of Gerda: she caused the stranger to enter, and thus addressed him:—

“Who art thou?—of the elves?
Or of the Aser sons?
Or of the wiser Vaner?
Why comest thou hither, alone,
Through raging flames
To visit our hall?”

He replied that he was not an Elf, nor an Aser, nor a Vanir; and he offered her eleven apples,—no doubt those of immortality, stolen from the treasury of Iduna,[100]—if she would bestow her love on Freyr, the most agreeable of all beings. She rejected the apples with scorn, declaring that she would never live with Freyr. He then offered her the ring—the very ring—which was laid on the funeral pyre with Balder, the son of Odin—that ring which every ninth night produced eight other rings of the same weight. It too she scorned; she had gold enough in her father’s house. He then bade her look at the sword which he held in his hand, and threatened to behead her unless she would love Freyr. Still she refused; and said that if he and her father met, there would be bloodshed. Other threats he employed, and commenced a charm which was for ever to deprive her of beauty, of happiness, of worldly esteem, and consign her to the most direful woes. In the midst of the charm, she interrupted him; she could resist no longer; she offered him a cup of mead; and at length named the very night on which she would meet Freyr in the grove of Barre.—Skirnir now returned in great joy. He is met by Freyr, who will not allow him to dismount until he has said what success has attended him. The news, which ought to fill him with joy, makes him impatient. One night seems long; nine seems an age. The giant-maiden kept her promise; and for a reward, Skirnir received the sword of Freyr.[101]

Freya, the sister of Freyr, and the goddess of love, is thus described by Ohlenschlager:—

——Freya’s hall
With precious gems o’erlaid,
Stands in a lonely vale,
Which rose-tree forests shade;
Swans, white as virgin snow,
There on the calm lakes sail,
Lovers, who ne’er brake vow,
Tell there their ardent tale.

But in Folkvangur’s bower
Nought like its matchless queen;
Mid many a beauteous flower
No flower like her, I ween.
Her form so round and slight,
Her look which love doth beam,
Her step as Zephyr’s light,
Exceeds e’en poet’s dream.

Each small, white, taper hand,
A blushing rose doth bear,
Which through her faery land
Breathe forth their fragrant air.
Their sweets no guardian thorn
From rude touch needs defend,
’Tis they to even and morn
The roseate tints which lend.

Like her no goddess kind,
She saves from wounds and death,
Her sigh—the sweet south wind
O’er the wild flowers doth breathe.[110]
Round tears for mortal woe
Each morn her blue eyes fill,
Which on the flowers below
In purest dew distil.

Her daughters Siofna[111] hight
And Hnos, with amber hair,
Not e’en the spirits of light
Can boast of aught so fair.
Whate’er is passing bright
On earth, from Hnos we call:
Siofna gives slumbers light,
The morn on pure souls fall.[112]

Freya had an equal share with Odin in the souls of all slain in fight; for is not love the cause of as much bloodshed as any other passion? All maidens of birth also hastened to her palace of Vingolf. Her car was drawn by two wild cats, or perhaps leopards; and next to Frigga, with whom she has been often confounded; she was the most powerful of all the goddesses. Her husband was Oddur, of whom little is known, except that he travelled far and wide, and that her attachment to him induced her to follow him, weeping tears of gold. Yet, if report be true, she was not always distinguished for conjugal faith. She had two daughters by Oddur, both exquisitely fair to behold; and she had four attendants, to each of whom was intrusted some portion of her sovereignty. Thus Siofna was the goddess of first love; Lofna removed all obstacles which impeded the fruition of lovers’ wishes; Var presided over betrothals, and punished false vows; Tir, the portress of Freya’s palace, refused admission to all who were not qualified to enter; and she was the enemy of all unfortunate lovers: she it was who prevented the fruition of their hopes.

This mythos explains itself more satisfactorily than any other.

ÆGIR AND RAN

Were of giant race, and deities of the deep. They had nine daughters, personifications of the billows, the currents, and the storm.

Ægir might be propitiated; but Ran was always cruel, when the fates would permit her: she occasioned shipwrecks in which she delighted, on account of the spoil which they brought her. She had a wonderful net, with which she caught such mariners as fell into the sea.

In crystal halls his head
Rears Ægir, Ran’s stern spouse;
A silver helmet red
With coral guards his brows;
His beard, of ocean weeds,
His spear with amber deck’d,
And pearls, but show he needs,
And the proud waves are check’d.

The emblem of his sway
When lifts the watery god—
Quick sinks the raging sea,
Obedient to his rod;
His pearly muscle throne,
In Hlesey may be seen;
Has daughters nine by Ran,
Three are the billows green.[113]

There was a brilliant feast held in the palace of Ægir, beneath the waves. Gods, goddesses, and elves were present to honour it; and the great cauldron which Thor had stolen[114] contained mead enough for all the guests. This feast, therefore, was subsequent to the other, when the want of that liquor was resented by Thor. On this occasion Thor was not present, but Loke was; yet no welcome guest was he. The deities did not like him; first, because he had a wicked tongue, and next, because he had but too much reason for using it at their expense. Two of the sea-gods, attendants, obtaining from all the praise of dexterity, Loke killed one of them, merely because he could not bear to hear any one commended. In great anger the gods excluded him from the festive hall; but he, at length, returned, and asked for his place, not in a penitential mood, but in the resolution of creating strife. All seemed inclined to reject him, until he won upon Odin by reminding him of past times:

Rememberest thou, Odin,
How, in the morning of time,
We mixed blood together?[115]
To taste of liquor
Thou swarest never,
Unless it were brought to us both.

The sire of gods was moved by this appeal; and he cried—

Arise, Vidar,
And let the wolf’s father
Take his place at the board!

He did take his place; and as each of the guests remonstrated with him on his ill-nature, he launched out into new abuse. He spared none; and though his reproaches were bitter, they had foundation enough to render them keenly felt. Neither the awful dignity of Odin, nor the thunderbolt of Thor, who arrived about the midst of the festival, could shield them from his attacks. We have not space for the alleged vices of the dwellers in the Scandinavian Olympus; but his abuse made the gods inwardly resolve to effect his destruction whenever the opportunity occurred. His share in the death of Balder (to which we shall soon advert) hastened the time.

OTHER DEITIES.

The three Nornies, Urda, Verdandi, and Skula, are celebrated in Scandinavian mythology. Of them we have before spoken, and have little to add here. Their origin was unknown. They appear to have sprung up with the great tree Yggdrasil, and to have been dependent only on the mysterious Al-fader. They were said to have more sympathy than destined beings would be expected to have, and to have wept over the fall of their favourites. Both Urda and Skula were frequently consulted by the gods, who were ignorant of their own fate.

Besides these there were inferior Nornies among the elves and the dwarfs.

_Night_ and _Day_ (Nott and Dagr) were also deified; so was the horse _Rimfaxi_ (frost-mane), which carried night, and the horse _Skinfaxi_ (bright mane), which drew the car of day. Dew is merely foam which falls from the bits of the former horse. Night was the daughter of the great Norvè; and being married to the god Delling (the dawn) the offspring was Day. There is some poetry in the following description from the poetic Edda:

Delling’s son (_day_) forth
Drove his horse,
Richly beset
With shining stones.
O’er Manheim (_earth_) gleamed
The courser’s mane,
Who drew in his car
The baffler of Dualin (_day_).

Through earth’s great
Gates of the north,
Beneath the outer root
Of the ancient tree,
To rest now glided
Giantesses and giants,
Ghosts and dwarfs,
And dark-alfs.

Heroes arose,
Alf-beamer (_sun_) got up:
Northwards to Niflheim,
Night is flown.
On Argiöll (_rainbow_) stood
Ulfruna’s son (_Heimdall_),
The great horn-sounder
Of heaven’s hill.

The deity of winter was the giant _Hrsnelgar_, who dwelt in a cavern towards the dreary pole, and from whose wings comes the bleak north wind. Thus the Vafthrudnis-mal:—

The giant Hrsnelger
At Heaven’s extremity
Sits under an eagle’s form.
From his wings, ’tis said,
The cold winds sweep
Over all nations.

This is the giant whom Thorkil saw in the cave.[116] In two or three places there is also allusion to a summer god, _Sfosoder_, the sweet, the pleasant; a contrast with Hrsnelgar, the devourer of carrion.

The Valkyrs, the elves, and dwarfs, having been already described, all that now remains is to relate the circumstances which will precede and accompany the destruction of the world. Many of them have a connection with the fate of

BALDER.

On this personage _historically_—if indeed there ever was one of this name and character—we have already dwelt[117]; we have now to consider him _mythologically_.

Balder had fearful dreams, and he believed that something dreadful was impending over him. He consulted his mother Frigga, who, though a prophetess, could not interpret his dreams, or foresee the kind of danger that was at hand. The gods were assembled; and as from ancient oracles they had learned how their fate was linked with his, they were the more anxious for the result. But all was darkness. Odin cut Runes in vain. Thrain and Dain, two dwarfs who excelled all beings in Runic wisdom, could only say that the dream was heavy, and that it portended evil. At this time Iduna was in the power of Thiasse[117], but she must be consulted, for she was a great prophetess. Heimdall, Loke, and Braga went to Jotunheim for that purpose. As she groaned for the joys of Asgard, the gods out of pity had previously sent her a wolf’s skin, by clothing herself in which she forgot the past. Why then should the three Aser proceed on their monstrous horses to her abode? Her only reply was by tears, which, though they proved that she dreaded, also proved that she knew not the cause of that dread. Again were the Aser convoked; and it was then resolved that Frigga should exact from every thing an oath not to injure Balder. But how could destiny be averted? She overlooked the Mistletoe.

At this crisis, when the future was impenetrable to the most prophetic of gods and dwarfs, Odin descended to consult the awful Vala, whose tomb lay on the confines of Helheim. His descent we have before related.[118] He returned to Asgard with the certainty that nothing could avert the fate of his beloved son, or that of the gods, of whose ruin it was the forerunner.

In the work of destiny, Loke, as might be expected, was the most active agent. He it was who drew from Frigga the secret of the Mistletoe; he it was who directed the blind Hoder to cast it; he it was who after Hela had consented to release Balder from her empire, if all creatures would lament for him, either persuaded the giant-woman to refuse, or personated one himself.

That this mythos of Balder—one of the most celebrated in the whole range of Scandinavian lore—has a physical meaning, is evident: it denotes the departure of the summer sun from the northern hemisphere. Some of the circumstances, however, have not been happily explained; and for the reason that we have more than once assigned,—that they never can be explained, since they were invented, not on physical principles, but to embellish the fable, and render it more interesting.

PUNISHMENT OF LOKE.

The crimes of Loke were now full; and the gods determined to suffer them no longer. Their vengeance fell, first, on his two sons, Nari and Vali. The latter being changed into a wolf, devoured his brother. With some difficulty Loke himself was taken by Thor, and, like Prometheus, bound to the flinty rocks. If he has not a vulture to feed on his entrails, he has something quite as bad,—a serpent hung over his head, which every moment drips its venom. More fortunate, however, than his prototype, he has a wife, Signi, who perpetually watches by his side, and building a large basin, catches the venom intended for him. But at intervals she is obliged to empty the basin; and when she does so, his agony, owing to the poison falling on his unprotected face, is the cause of earthquakes. There, like his monstrous offspring, the serpent[119] and the wolf[120], he must remain until Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods, when he and they and the whole visible universe will be destroyed.

RAGNAROK, THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS.

Of this consummation, so much dreaded by gods and elves and giants and men, the prose Edda gives the following account:—

“There will first come a winter which shall be called Fimbulveter; snow will fall from every quarter, and hard frost and cutting winds have sway, so that the heat of the sun will have no influence. Three such winters, unalleviated by any summer, will follow each other. Previously to this the whole world will be scourged, during three winters also, by wars and bloodshed. Brothers will kill each other through avarice, and there will be no mercy even from parents to their children.

“And now, to the great affliction of mankind, one wolf will devour the sun, another the moon, the stars will disappear from the firmament, the earth quake violently, trees be torn up by their roots, mountains fall together, all chains and bonds be burst asunder, and the wolf Fenris will break loose. Then will the ocean rise above its shores, for the great Midgard’s serpent will recover its giant strength, and struggle to gain the land.

“At length he will succeed, the ship Nagelfare will be set afloat, and the giant Hymir take the helm. Nagelfare is built of the nails of dead men, and it should be remarked that when a person dies and his nails are not cut, materials are furnished towards the building of a vessel, whose completion both gods and men should seek to delay as long as possible.

“Fenris now rushes onward open-mouthed; fire streams from his eyes and nostrils; his under jaw touches the earth, the upper heaven, and he would open them still wider if there were space. Jormungandur vomits out poison, which renders the air and the waters deadly. He is the most terrible of all, and fights by the side of the wolf.

“In the midst of the confusion the heavens are rent asunder, and the sons of Muspell (the genii of fire) ride forth, led on by Surtur, who is clothed in flame, and whose unrivalled sword surpasses in brightness the sun itself. The bridge Bifrost gives way beneath their weight. The sons of Muspell press onwards to the plain Vigrid, which extends five hundred miles every way, and where they meet Fenris and Jormungandur. Asa-Loke also has repaired thither, and at the same time appears Hymir with the Giants of the Frost. All the sons of Hela follow Loke.

“But now, on the other side, Heimdall rouses himself, and blowing with all his might on his Gjallar-horn, wakes up the Aser who hold council as to what is to be done. Odin rides to Mimer’s well to ascertain what is best; the Ash Yggdrasil is shaken, and all earth and heaven are in dismay.

“The Aser and Einheirar march to the plain Vigrid, with Odin at their head. Armed with his golden helm, his glittering mail and his spear, Gungnir, he encounters Fenris who swallows him up.

‘Then is accomplished
The goddess’ second-heart’s grief.[121]
Then falls the god
Best beloved of Frigga.’—_Voluspa_.

“At the same moment his son Vidar advances to avenge his father; he presses down with his foot the wolf’s lower jaw, and raising the other with his hand, rends him till he dies. Thor fights with the serpent, and acquires great fame by slaying him, but overpowered by the poison which he spews forth, recoils back nine paces, and falls dead to earth.

“Freyr is opposed to Surtur, but now misses his good sword which he had given to Skirnir, and is slain. The dog, Garmer, who had hitherto been bound in a cavern, escapes and rushes upon Asa-Tyr, and both fall. In like manner Loke and Heimdall slay each other. After all this Surtur pours out fire upon the earth, and the whole world is consumed. The great Ash, however, outlives this general ruin.

‘Yggdrasil’s Ash
Totters, but stands.’—_Voluspa_.

“Good and just men will now be transported to Gimlè, which is built of red gold, and where there are various splendid and delightful habitations. Bad men, perjurers, murderers, and the seducers of other men’s wives, will go to Nastrond, a vast, hideous dwelling, whose gates face northwards. It is built of adders, whose heads are turned inwards, and are continually spewing out poisons which form a large lake or river, where its inmates are to swim eternally, suffering horrible tortures.[122]

“A new earth, fairer and more verdant than the other, will arise out of the sea; from which the grain will shoot forth of itself. Vidar and Vale will survive the general destruction, and dwell upon the plain Ida, where Asgard lay before. Thither also will repair Magne and Mode, the sons of Thor, taking Miölner with them. Balder and Hoder will return from Hela, and these gods will sit together, and talk over the events of past times.

‘The Aser will meet
On Ida’s plain,
And talk of the mighty
Earth-surrounder[123]:
There they will call to mind
Great deeds of olden-time,
And the lofty gods’
Ancient learning.’[124]—_Voluspa_.

“During the conflagration caused by Surtur, a man and a woman, Lif and Livthraser, will lie concealed in a place called Homimer’s Holt, and there nourish themselves with the morning-dew. From them is to spring the second race of men.”[125]

The Voluspa also refers to the second and more blissful world:—

A hall I see
More brilliant than the sun,
Roofed with gold,
On the summit of Gimlè;
There shall dwell
A virtuous race,
And enjoy blessedness
To time eternal.

Thither cometh the mighty one
To the council of the gods,
In his strength from above;
He who thinketh for all.
He issueth judgments,
He causeth strife to cease,
And establisheth peace
To endure for ever.

This is to finish the visible universe, with its physical gods. But the immortality of the human soul is a doctrine strongly inculcated by the religion of the North. The souls of the gods, indeed, are, with two or three exceptions, to perish; and for this reason,—that they are physical gods merely,—mythologic creations to denote the powers and functions of nature. In this circumstance there is something pleasing to contemplate. The _physical_ Alfader (Odin) has passed into annihilation; but the eternal Alfadur (Almighty God) remains to govern the world, and to reward the good whom he has admitted to Gimlè. Thus even in the darkest systems (and few are darker than the Scandinavian) sages have attempted to vindicate the ways of Providence.

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