adulteress was obliged to hang herself,
or was stabbed by the knives of her
companions. The wives of the Cim-
brians, when they could not obtain
from Marius assurance of their chas-
ty, slew themselves with their own
hands. They thought there was some-
thing sacred in a woman; they mar-
ried but one, and kept faith with her.
In fifteen centuries the dea of mar-
riage is unchanged amongst them.
The wife, on entering her husband's
home, is aware that she gives herself
altogether,* "that she will have but
one body, one life with him; that she
will have no thought, no desire beyond:
that she will be the companion of his
perils and labors; that she will suffer
and dare as much as he, both in peace
and war." And he, like her, knows
that he gives himself. Having chosen
his chief, he forgets himself in him, as-
signs to him his own glory, serves him
to the death." He is infamous as long
as he lives, who returns from the field of
battle without his chief." It was on
this voluntary subordination that feu-
dal society was based. Man in this race,
can accept a superior, can be capable
of devotion and respect.// Thrown
back upon himself by the gloom and
severity of his climate, he has dis-
covered moral beauty, while others
discover sensuous beauty. This kind
of naked brute, who lies all day by his
fireside, sluggish and dirty, always eat-
ing and drinking, ‡ whose rusty facul-
ties cannot follow the clear and fine
outlines of happily created poetic
forms, catches a glimpse of the sub-
lime in his troubled dreams. He does
not see it, but simply feels it; his re-
ligion is already within, as it will be in
the sixteenth century, when he will
cast off the sensuous worship im-
ported from Rome, and hallow the
faith of the heart. § His gods are not
enclosed in walls; he has no idols.
What he designates by divine names, is
something invisible and grand, which
floats through nature, and is conceived
beyond nature, a mysterious infinity
• Tacitus, xix. vii. xvi. Kemble, i. 232.
+ Tacitus, xiv.

...

which the sense cannot touch, but which "reverence alone can feel; and when, later on, the legends define and alter this vague divination of nat ural powers, one idea remains at the bottom of this chaos of giant-dreams, namely, that the world is a warfare, and heroism the highest good.

In the beginning, say the old Ice. landic legends, there were two worlds, Niflheim the frozen, and Muspell the burning. From the falling snow-flakes was born the giant Ymir. "There was in times of old, where Ymir dwelt, nor sand nor sea, nor gelid waves; earth existed not, nor heaven above, 'twas a chaotic chasm, and grass nowhere." There was but Ymir, the horrible frozen Ocean, with his chil dren, sprung from his feet and his armpits; then their shapeless progeny, Terrors of the abyss, barren Mountains, Whirlwinds of the North, and other malevolent beings, enemies of the sun and of life; then the cow Andhumbla, born also of melting snow, brings to light, whilst licking the hoar frost from the rocks, a man Bur, whose grandsons kill the giant Ymir. "From his flesh the earth was formed, and from his bones the hills, the heaven from the skull of that ice-cold giant, and from his blood the sea; but of his brains the heavy clouds are all created." Then arose war between the monsters of winter and the luminous fertile gods, Odin the founder, Baldur the mild and benevolent, Thor the summer-thunder, who purifies the air, and nourishes the earth with showers. Long fought the gods against the frozen Jötuns, against the dark bestial powers, the Wolf Fenrir, the great Serpent, whom they drown in the sea, the treacherous Loki, whom they bind to the rocks, beneath a viper whose venom drops continually on his face Long will the heroes, who by a bloody

lud, quod sola reverentia vident." Later on, at Upsala for instance, they had images (Adam of Bremen, Historia Ecclesiastica). Wuotan (Odin) signifies etymologically the All-Powerful, him who penetrates ard circulates through every thing (Grimm, Mythol.).

* Sæmundar Edda, Snorra Edda, ed. Copenhagen, three vols. passim. Mr. Berg mann has translated several of these poems into French, which Mr. Taine quotes. The translator has generally made use if the edition Deorum nominibus appellant secretum il- of Mr. Thorpe, London, 1866.

"In omni domo, nudi et sordidi. Plus per otium transigunt, dediti somno, ciboque; totos dies juxta focum atque ignem agunt.' Grimm, 53, Preface. Tacitus, x.

40

death deserve to be placed "in the halls of Odin, and there wage a comDat every day," assist the gods in their mighty war. A day will, however, arrive when gods and men will be conquered. Then

heart; but Regin, brother of Fafnir drinks blood from the wound, and falls asleep. Sigurd, who was roasting the heart, raises his finger thoughtlessly to his lips. Forthwith he understands the language of the birds. The eagles scream above him in the branches. They warn him to mistrust Regin. Sigurd cuts off the latter's head, eats of Fafnir's heart, drinks his blood and his brother's. Amongst all these mur

"trembles Yggdrasil's ash yet standing; groans that ancient tree, and the Jötun Loki is loosed. The shadows groan on the ways of Hel, until the fire of Surt has consumed the tree. Hrym steers from the east, the waters rise, the mundane snake is coiled in jötun-ders their courage and poetry gw. rage. The worm beats the water, and the agle screams; the pale of beak tears carcases; (the ship) Naglfar is loosed. Surt from the South comes with flickering flame; shines from his sword the Val-god's sun. The stony hills are dashed together, the giantesses totter; men tread the path of Hel, and heaven is cloven. The sun darkens, earth in ocean sinks, fall from heaven the bright stars, fre's breath assails the all-nourishing tree, towering fire plays against heaven itself."†

The gods perish, devoured one by one by the monsters; and the cestial legend, sad and grand now like the life of man, bears witness to the hearts of warriors and heroes.

ac

Sigurd has subdued Brynhild, the un tamed maiden, by passing through the flaming fire; they share one couch for three nights, his naked sword betwixt them. "Nor the damsel did he kiss, nor did the Hunnish king to his arm lift her. He the blooming maid to Giuki's son delivered," because cording to his oath, he must ena her to her betrothed Gunnar. She, setting her love upon him, "Alone she sat without, at eve of day, began aloud with herself to speak: Sigurd must be mine; I must die, or that blooming There is no fear of pain, no care for youth clasp in my arms. But seeing life; they count it as dross when the him married, she brings about his idea has seized upon them. The death. "Laughed then Brynhild, trembling of the nerves, the repugnance Budli's daughter, once only. from her of animal instinct which starts back whole soul, when in her bed she lisbefore wounds and death, are all lost tened to the loud lament of Giuki's in an irresistible determination. See daughter." She put on her golden how in their epic f the subiime springscersi pierced herself with the sword's up amid the horrible, like a bright poir: und as a last request said: purple flower amid a pool of blood. Sigurd has plunged his sword into the dragon Fafnir, and at that very moment they looked on one another; and Fafnir asks, as he dies, "Who art thou? and who is thy father? and what thy kin, that thou wert so hardy as to bear weapons against me?" hardy heart urged me on thereto, and a strong hand and this sharp sword. Seldom hath hardy eld a faintheart youth." After this triumphant eagle cry S turd cuts out the worm's

"Lin the plain be raised a pile so spacious, that take room may be; let them burn the Hun (rd) on the one side of me, on the other side my household slaves, with collars splendid, two at our heads, and two hawks; let also lie between us both the keen-edged sword, as when we both one couch ascended; "A also five female thralls, eight male slaves of gentle birth fostered with me.""

Hei, the goddess of death, born of Loki a ad Angrboda.-TR.

Thorpe, The Edda of Sæmund, The Vala's Prophecy, str. 48-56, p. 9 et passim.

Fafnismal Edda. This epic is common to the Northern races, as is the Iliad to the Greek populations, and is found almost entire The in Germany in the Nibelungen Lied. translator has also used Magnusson and Morris' poetical version of the Völsunga Saga and certain songs of the Elder Edda, London, 1870.

All were burnt together; yet Gudrun the widow continued motionless by the corpse, and could not weep. The wives of the jarls came to console her, and each of them told her own sorrows, all the calamities of great devastations and the old life of barbarism.

"Then spoke Giaflang, Giuki's sister: Lo, up on earth I live most loveless, who of five mates must see the ending, of daughters twain and three sisters, of brethern eight, and abide behind lonely.' Then spake Herborg, Queen

Thorpe, The Edda of Samund, Third lay of Sigurd Fafnicide, str. 62-64, p. 83.

41

of Hunland: 'Crueller tale have I to tel. of | was I wavering while we both lived; now an my seven scns, down in the Southlands, and I so no longer, as I alone survive."" the eight man, my mate, felled in the deathmead. Father and mother, and four brothers on the wide sea the winds and death played with; the billows beat on the bulwark boards. Alone must I sing o'er them, alone must I array them, alone must my hands deal with their departing, and all this was in one season's wearing, and none was left for love or solace. Then was I bound a prey of the battle when that same season wore to its ending; as a tiring may must I bind the shoon of the luke's high dame, every day at dawning From her jealous hate gat I heavy mocking, truel lashes she laid upon me.'"'*

All was in vain; no word could draw tears from those dry eyes. They were obliged to lay the bloody corpse before her, ere her tears would come. Then tears flowed through the pillow; as "the geese withal that were in the home-field, the fair fowls the may owned, fell a-screaming." She would have died, like Sigrun, on the corpse of him whom alone she had loved, if they had not deprived her of memory by magic potion. Thus affected, E departs in order to marry Atli, king of the Huns; and yet she goes against her will, with gloomy forebodings; for murder begets murder; and her brothers, the murderers of Sigurd, having been drawn to Atli's court, fall in their turn into a snare like that which they had themselves laid. Then Gunnar was bound, and they tried to make him deliver up the treasure. He answers with a barbarian's laugh:

666

'Högni's heart in my hand shall lie, cut bloody from the breast of the valiant chief, the king's son, with a dull-edged knife.' They the heart cut out from Hialli's breast; on a dish, bleeding, laid it, and it to Gunnar bare. Then said Gunnar, lord of men: 'Here have I the heart of the timid Hialli, unlike the heart of ne bold Högni; for much it trembles as in the aish it lies; it trembles more by half while in his breast it lay." Högni laughed when to his heart they cut the living crest-crasher; no lament uttered he. All bleeding on a dish they laid it, and it to Gunnar bare. Calmy said Gunnar, the warrior Niflung: 'Here have I the heart of the bold Högni, unlike the heart of the timid Hialli; for it little trembles as in the dish it lies: it trembled less while in his breast it lay. So far shalt thou, Atli! be from the eyes of men as thou wilt from the treasures be. In my power alone is all the hidden Niflung's gold, now that Högni lives not. Ever

* Magnusson and Morris, Story of the Volsungs and Nibelungs, Lamentation of Gudrun, p. 11st farsin..

It was the last insult of the self-confident man, who values neither his own life nor that of another, so that he can satiate his vengeance. They cast him into the serpent's den, and there he died, striking his harp with his foot. But the inextinguishable flame of ven. geance passed from his heart to that of his sister. Corpse after corpse fall on each other; a mighty fury hurls them open-eyed to death. She killed the children she had by Atli, and one day on his return from the carnage, gave him their hearts to eat, served in honey, and laughed coldly as she told him on what he had fed. "Uproar was on the benches, portentous the cry of men, noise beneath the costly hangings.

a

The children of the Huns wept; all wept save Gudrun, who never wept or for her bear-fierce brothers, or for her dear sons, young, simple."t Judge from this heap of ruin and carnage to what excess the will is strung. There were men amongst them, Derserkirs, who in battle seized with a sort of madness, showed sudden and superhuman strength, and ceased to feel their wounds. This is the conception of a hero as engendered by this race in its infancy. Is it not strange to see them place their happiness in battle, their beauty in death? Is there any people, Hindoo, Persian, Greek, or Gallic, which has formed so tragic a conception of life? Is there any which has peopled its infantine mind with such gloomy dreams? Is there any which has so entirely banished from its dreams the sweetness of enjoyment, and the softness of pleasure? Endeavors, tenacious and mournful endeavors, an ecstasy of endeavors, such was their chosen condition. Carlyle said well, that in the sombre obstinacy of an English laborer still survives the tacit rage of the Scandinaviar. warrior. Strife for strife's sake-such is their pleasure. With what sadness, madness, destruction, such a disposi

Thorpe, The Edda of Sæmund, Lay of Atli, str. 21-27, p. 117.

† lbid. str. 38, p. 119.

This word signifies men who fought withou a breastplate, perhaps in shirts only; Scottice "Baresarks."-TR.

IV.

tion breaks its bonds, we shall see in | budge hence. I mean to die by my Shakespeare and Byron; with what lord's side, near this mar. I have loved vigor and purpose it can limit and em- so much. He kept his word, the word ploy itself when possessed by moral he had given to his chief, to the distrib ideas, we shall see in the case of the utor of gifts, promising him that they Puritans. should return to the town, safe and sound to their homes, or that they would fall both together, in the thick of the carnage, covered with wounds. He lies by his master's side, like a faithful servant." Though awkward in speech, their old poets find touch. ing words when they have to paint these manly friendships. We cannot without emotion hear them relate how the old "king embraced the best of his thanes, and put his arms about his neck, how the tears flowed down the cheeks of the greyhaired chief. . . . The valiant man was so dear to him. He could not stop the flood which mounted from his breast. In his heart, deep in the chords of his soul, he sighed in secret after the beloved man." Few as are the songs which remain to us, they return to this subject again and again. The wanderer in a reverie dreams about his lord: * It seems to him in his spirit as if he kisses and embraces him, and lays head and hands upon his knees, as oft before in the olden time, when he rejoiced in his gifts. Then he wakes-a man without friends. He sees before him the deser tracks, the sea-birds dipping in the waves, stretching wide their wings, the frost and the snow, mingled with falling hail. Then his heart's wounds press more heavily. Then the exile

They have established themselves in England; and however disordered the ciety which binds them together, it is founded, as in Germany, on generous sentiment. War is at every door, I am aware, but warlike virtues are within every house; courage chiefly, then fidelity. Under the brute there is a free man, and a man of spirit. There is no man amongst them who, at his own risk,* will not make alliance, go forth to fight, undertake adventures. There is no group of free men amongst them, who, in their Witenagemote, is not forever concluding alliances one with another. Every clan, in its own district, forms a league of which all the members, "brothers of the sword," defend each other, and demand revenge for the spilling of blood, at the price of their own. Every chief in his hall reckons that he has friends, not mercenaries, in the faithful ones who drink his beer, and who, having received as marks of his esteem and confidence, bracelets, swords, and suits of armor, will cast themselves between him and danger on the day of battle.t Independence and boldness rage amongst this young nation with violence and excess; but these are of themselves noble things; and no less oble are the sentiments which serve them for discipline,-to wit, affectionate devotion, and respect for plighted faith. These appear in their laws, and break forth in their poetry. Amongst them greatness of heart gives matter for imagination. Their characters are not selfish and shifty, like those of Homer. They are brave hearts, simple and strong, faithful to their relatives, to their master in arms, firm and stead fast to enemies and friends, abounding in courage a ready for sacrifice. "Old as I am," says one, "I will not

See the Life of Sweyn, of Hereward etc., ren up to the time of the Conquest. + Beowulf, passim, Death of Byrhtnoth.

says:

"In blithe habits full oft we, too, agreed that nought else should divide us except death alone been is now our friendship. To endure enmiat length this is changed, and as if it had never ties man orders me to dwell in the bowers of the forest, under the oak-tree in this earthy wearied out. Dim are the dells, high up are cave. Cold is this earth-dwelling: I am quite the mountains, a bitter city of twigs, with orian overgrown, a joyless abode. My friends are in the earth; those loved in life, the tomb holds them. The grave is guarding, while I above alone am going. Under the oak-tree, beyond this earth-cave, there I must sit the long summer-day."

Amid their perilous mode of life, and the perpetual appeal to arms, there

The Wanderer, the Exile's Song, Coden Exoniensis, published by Thorpe.