Precipice, her threshold; Care, her bed; and Burning Anguish forms the
hanging of her apartments.

The spirits of those who fell in battle, were carried at once to Odin,
in Valhalla—the hall of the slain; and on this account Odin is called
Val-father, or father of the slain. Those who die a natural death, or of
old age, were taken to Hel. These abodes, however, were not of eternal
duration, but only continued until Ragnarok—the final judgment and
destruction of the earth and all material things. Valhalla is not
represented as a place of unalloyed happiness, nor Hel of continued
misery; yet the former was far the most desirable abode. The joys of
Valhalla are imagined and pictured on the basis of all our ideas of
happiness in another world—the highest degree of felicity known in
this.[32]

The joys and employments in Valhalla, will consist of eating, drinking,
and fighting. The spirits of the slain will roam through the vast hall,
and eat and drink with the Æsir. The whole celestial banquet will
consist of ale, and the flesh of one wild boar, which, being cut off
every day, renews itself every night. The goddesses, or women, wait at
table, and fill the drinking horns. When the morning repast is over,
they all ride out into the plain, and fight, and cut one another to
pieces. They are, however, perpetually renewed; and, towards evening,
all resume their usual form, and return to drink ale together. Valhalla
was of immense size, had five hundred and forty doors, and was spacious
enough to contain the Æsir, and all the brave spirits that Odin called
to him from earth. In all the accounts of Hel and Valhalla, to be found
in the ancient Eddas, there is nothing that goes to prove that the
Scandinavians believed in a place of eternal punishment. One or two
brief passages from the Younger Edda are quoted, to show that such was
the case; but these are proved to have been interpolations in the
manuscript of the Edda, by a modern christian writer.

An early period is spoken of, called the Golden Age. Odin had
constructed a court, or hall, of great magnificence. It was resplendent
on all sides, within and without, with the finest gold. He appointed
rulers or judges, to judge with him the fate of men; and in the hall he
had twelve seats for them, besides his own throne. This court of justice
was called Gladsheim. Another edifice, a very fair structure, was
erected for the goddesses. This was called Vingolf. Lastly, a smithy was
built, and furnished with hammers, tongs, anvils, and all manner of
tools for working in wood, stone, and metal. All the movable things
belonging to the gods, were made of gold; and from this the period was
known as the Golden Age.

The age lasted until women arrived from Jötunheim, and corrupted it.

The exploits of Thor form the subjects of the most lengthy and
characteristic legends in the mythology of the Scandinavians. At one
time Ægir, the ocean deity, entertained all the gods in Asgard, giving
them a great feast, at the period of the autumnal equinox. He furnished
enough to eat, but drink was greatly wanting; for he had no vessel large
enough to brew ale for such a numerous company. Thor hearing that the
giant Hymir owned a famous cauldron of great size, he, in company with
Tyr, set out for Jötunheim, to obtain it, determined either by fair
means or foul to carry it away. After various adventures he gets it,
claps it on his head like a huge hat, and walks off with it, the ears of
the cauldron reaching down to his heels! The giants follow and attack
him; but he slays them all with his terrible mallet. Having obtained the
cauldron, Ægir brewed as much ale as was required; and Loki, Thor, and
all the company, have a regular drinking bout. It ended as such scenes
usually do—in a fight; and Loki killed one of Ægir’s servants, for which
he was expelled by the gods, and kicked out of doors. He was afterwards,
however, restored to his place.

Thor and Loki had a famous journey to Jötunheim, the land of the giants.
Thor, as usual, rode in his car drawn by two goats; and when night came
they put up at the cottage of a peasant, both the travelers assuming the
form and costume of men. Thor killed his goats, and after flaying them,
put them in a kettle to cook for their supper, and asked the peasant and
his family to partake with him. The peasant’s son was named Thjálfi, and
the daughter Röskva. Thor told them to throw all the bones into the
goats’ skins, which were spread out on the floor; but Thjálfi broke one
of the bones to get at the marrow. The next morning, Thor raised his
mallet, consecrated the goats’ skins, and they instantly assumed their
usual form, alive and well and ready to pursue the journey; but one of
the goats was found to be lame in one leg. To appease the anger of Thor,
the peasant offered any thing he possessed as a compensation. Thor chose
both his children; and ever after Thjálfi the Nimble and Röskva the
Quick were his attendants. They then continued their journey, passed out
of Mannheim, crossed a broad ocean, and entered a deep forest. They saw
a large hall, and, entering it, went to sleep in a deep room at one end.
During the night, there was an earthquake and a terrible roaring, which
shook the whole edifice. In the morning they found a giant of enormous
size, sleeping and snoring near them; and the vast edifice was his glove
which he had thrown off, and they had slept in the thumb of it. The
giant’s name was Skrymir, and when he awoke he knew Thor at once and
called him by name. He offered to carry the wallet of provisions and
relieve Thjálfi, and after breakfast they journeyed together. Thor,
wishing to get rid of his new fellow-traveler, when night arrived,
hurled his mallet at him after he was asleep; and it was buried deep in
his skull. Waking up, the giant asked if a leaf had fallen on his head.
He slept again, and Thor made two more efforts—once his mallet going
deep into his cheek; and again, burying it in his head up to the handle.
The giant merely put up his hand and asked if a bit of moss or an acorn
had fallen on him. He soon, however, left Thor, and pursued his journey
to the north. The travelers arrived at the city of Utgard, situated in a
vast plain, and immediately paid their respects to Utgard-Loki, the
king. His majesty looked at the Thunderer with great contempt, called
him a stripling, and said if he was not mistaken it must be Aku-Thor.
The king challenged Thor and his companions to try various feats of
skill and strength with his subjects, the giants of Jötunheim. Loki sat
down to a trough filled with meat, and to eat a race with a giant; but
he got vanquished, his competitor eating the most, and swallowing bones
and all. Thor then produced Thjálfi to run a race, and he was completely
distanced. Thor himself then attempted a drinking bout with the giants;
but at three long pulls he could not empty a single horn. He then tried
his hand at lifting; but though the giants only furnished a common gray
cat to be lifted, Thor could not raise him from the ground, only lifting
one foot a short distance. Then he tried wrestling; but though his
competitor was a wrinkled old woman, he could not throw her, but came
near being thrown himself. Thor confessed that he was vanquished, and
turned his steps away, being accompanied without the walls of the city
by his majesty Utgard-Loki, in person. Then the king tells Thor that, if
he has his way, the god shall never come into his place again, for he
fears him and only got the better of him that time by stratagem. He said
it was he that met him in the forest, and he had a mountain before him
when he slept; and if Thor would see it on his return, he would observe
two deep vallies where he buried his mallet, while he thought he struck
Utgard himself. The two immense glens that could be seen in the mountain
were but the dints of Thor’s mallet. In the contest of eating, the
competitor of Loki was Fire itself, that consumed all before it. Thjálfi
ran a race with Hugi—Thought—which flies faster than the fleetest being
that is created. The old woman who wrestled with Thor was Old Age, which
could in time lay every thing low. What appeared to be a cat, was the
great Midgard serpent, that encompassed the whole earth. The horn he
drank from extended to the sea itself; and in this he performed a most
prodigious feat, for he settled it greatly, as could be seen, and which
was called the ebb. Thor, on hearing how he had been vanquished by
stratagem, raised his mallet to strike down the giant; but on turning,
he had disappeared, and, instead of a city near by, he saw nothing but a
vast plain. This was the end of Thor’s adventures in Jötunheim. Then to
reëstablish his reputation, Thor went out to fish for the great Midgard
serpent. He took no companions, not even his car or goats. He traveled
in the guise of a young man, and put up at the house of a giant named
Hymir, who was going fishing; and he asked Thor to provide some bait. He
went into a herd of the giant’s oxen, and seizing the largest bull,
wrung off his head; and returning with it, the two put off to sea
together. They rowed much further than the giant had ever gone before;
and Thor, baiting a hook and line of great strength with the head of the
bull, cast it out. The Midgard serpent immediately swallowed it, and
Thor drew upon him. The scene was now most dreadful. Thor pulled so hard
that his feet broke through the boat, and went down to the bottom of the
sea. Thor darted looks of ire at the serpent, and he in turn spouted
floods of venom upon him. The giant turned pale with fright, took out
his knife and cut the line, when the serpent sunk under water. Thor then
grasped his mallet and hurled it at the monster; but he was low down in
the sea, and escaped, though some say his head was struck off at the
bottom of the ocean. Thor then, with his fist, hit the giant a blow
under the ear that knocked him out of sight; and then, with rapid
strides, he waded ashore.

Baldur the Good having dreamed that harm was to come to him, Friga, his
mother, hearing of it, exacted an oath from every thing, animate and
inanimate, stones, trees, fire, metals, and all living things, that they
would not hurt Baldur. One thing only was omitted—the misletoe. It was
then a favorite amusement for Baldur to stand up, and have the Æsir
throw at him their darts, javelins, battle-axes, and other missiles; for
none could harm him. Loki, under the guise of an old woman, hearing that
the misletoe had not taken the oath, gathered a branch, and calling
Hödur, the blind god, told him to hurl it at Baldur, saying he would
guide his arm, and it being only a twig, it could not hurt him. Hödur
threw it, under the guidance of Loki; and Baldur the Good was slain. The
gods were speechless with horror, looked at each other, and broke out
into violent lamentations of grief. Odin was most sensible of the great
loss the Æsir had suffered; and Friga asked who would gain her love and
good will by riding to Hel, and trying to find Baldur, and offer to Hela
a ransom for his return to Asgard. Hermod offered his services, and
left, mounted on Odin’s famous horse, Sleipnir. While Hermod was on this
mission, Baldur’s body was borne to the sea shore to be burnt. His ship
Hringhorn, the largest in the world, was required for a funeral pile;
but no one could move it, till they sent to Jötunheim for a famous
giantess named Hyrrokin. She came mounted on a wolf, with twisted
serpents for a bridle, and with one push moved the vessel as they wanted
it. Baldur’s body was borne to the funeral pile on board the ship; and
the ceremony had such an effect on Nanna, that she died of grief, and
her body was burned on the same pile with her husband’s. Thor hallowed
the pile with his mallet, and during the ceremony kicked a dwarf into
the fire, because he ran before him. At Baldur’s obsequies was a vast
concourse. First, there was Odin, with Friga, the valkyrjor, and his
ravens; then Frey, in his car drawn by the boar with golden bristles.
Heimdall rode his horse, Gulltopp; Freyja drove in her chariot drawn by
cats. There were also present many Frost-giants and giants of the
mountains. Baldur’s horse, fully caparisoned, was burned along with the
body of his master.

Hermod pursued his journey till he arrived at the gates of Hel, and
found them barred. He alighted, tightened the girths, mounted, put spurs
to the horse, and at one leap sprang over the gate without touching. He
found Baldur occupying the most distinguished seat in the hall; and
after spending a night with him, asked Hela (death) to let Baldur return
to Asgard. She said she would consent to it, provided Baldur was so
beloved that every thing would weep for him. Hermod then returned,
bearing a gold ring as a present to Odin from Baldur, and some valuable
gifts from Nanna to Friga. Every thing wept for Baldur, except one old
woman, who refused. This was found to be Loki in disguise, who never
ceased to work evil among the Æsir. To escape the wrath of the gods,
Loki changed himself into a salmon, was pursued down a river, and in
leaping a net was caught by Thor in his hands. The gods then confined
him in a cavern, with a serpent directly over him; and as the venom
drops on him, he writhes and howls, and this makes that shaking of the
earth that men call earthquakes. Loki’s two children were taken, and one
changed to a wolf; and he immediately devoured the other.

The end of all material things is known as Ragnarök,—the twilight of the
gods, and conflagration of the universe. The world becomes corrupt; a
wolf devours the sun, and another wolf the moon; trees fall, and
mountains tumble to pieces. The wolf Fenrir opens his enormous mouth,
the lower jaw being on the earth, and the upper reaching to heaven; the
Midgard serpent gains the land, and heaven is cleft in twain. The sons
of Muspell ride through the breach, led by Surtur, in the midst of
flaming fire. Bifröst breaks in pieces, and a vast assemblage gathers on
the battle-field of Vigrid, which is a hundred miles long. Heimdall
stands up, and, with all his might, blows a blast on the Gjallar-horn,
which arouses all the gods. Odin asks advice of Mimir; the Æsir, and all
the heroes of Valhalla, led by the All-father, go forth to the field of
battle. The ash, Yggdrasill, begins to shake; a dissolution of all
things is at hand. Odin places himself against the wolf Fenrir, and Thor
encounters the Midgard serpent. Frey meets Surtur, and they exchange
terrible blows; but Frey falls, as he has been without his trusty sword
ever since he fell in love with Gerda. The dog, Garm, that had been
chained in a cave, breaks loose, and attacks Tyr, and they kill each
other. Thor slays the Midgard serpent, thereby gaining great renown;
but, retiring nine paces, he falls dead on the spot, being suffocated
with the venom that the dying serpent throws over him. Odin is swallowed
by the wolf; and Vidar, coming up, with his foot on the lower jaw and
his hand on the upper, he tears the animal’s jaws apart, and rends him
till he dies. Loki and Heimdall fight, and kill each other. This most
terrible battle being over, Surtur darts fire and flame over the world,
and the whole universe is consumed by it. A heaven, and many abodes,
both good and bad, are supposed to exist after this; for the spirits of
all who have lived are immortal. A new earth, most lovely and verdant,
shall rise out of the sea, and grain shall grow unsown. During the
conflagration, a woman named Lif (Life) and a man named Lifthrasir, lie
concealed in Hodmimir’s forest. They feed on morning dew, and their
descendants soon cover the earth again. Vidar and Vali survive the
conflagration, and dwell on the plain of Ida, where Asgard formerly
stood. Thither went the sons of Thor, Modi and Magni, carrying with them
their father’s mallet, Mjölnir. Baldur and Hödur repaired thither from
the abode of death (Hel) and there they hold converse on their past
perils and adventures. A famous ship, called Skidbladnir, is spoken of,
that is so large that it would hold all the Æsir, and their weapons. It
was built by the dwarfs, and presented to Frey; and, being constructed
of many pieces and with great skill, when not wanted Frey could fold it
up like a piece of cloth and put it in his pocket. In the language of
the Edda,

                        The ash, Yggdrasill,
                        Is the first of trees;
                        As Skidbladnir of ships,
                        Odin of Æsir,
                        Sleipnir of steeds,
                        Bifröst of bridges,
                        Bragi of bards,
                        Hábrok of hawks,
                        And Garm of hounds, is.

                               FOOTNOTES:

-----

Footnote 29:

  Nót.

Footnote 30:

  Jörð.

Footnote 31:

  Dagr.

Footnote 32:

  The learned and enlightened Christian imagines Heaven as a place or
  state of being, where evil, sin, and pain are unknown; and where the
  celestial employments will consist of investigating the works of the
  Creator, and glorifying his name. The poor Indian dreams of pleasant
  hunting-grounds—some happy island in the watery waste—and thinks,

                      ——“admitted to that equal sky,
                His faithful dog shall bear him company.”

  An old lady who had just “experienced religion,” was asked what she
  thought would be the employments of the good in heaven; or how they
  would pass their time. She replied, that she thought she would be
  permitted to sit all day, in a clean, white apron, and sing psalms. We
  need not smile at the simplicity of the good old dame; for, is it not
  probable that the celestial labors and enjoyments will as far exceed
  the ideas of the most learned Christian, as his imagination goes
  beyond that of the good woman, or the rude joys of the unlettered
  savage?

                              CHAPTER XXV

 EARLY LITERATURE OF THE ICELANDERS—EDDAS AND SAGAS—MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
              OF THE PERIOD—EXTRACTS FROM THE POETIC EDDA.

ACCORDING to the system of the Northmen, man and woman were the last
and most perfect productions of the creative power. After the Æsir,
the Jötuns and the Dwarfs had a being. Odin and two other deities were
walking on the sea-shore, and came to two trees, and from them they
made the first man, ASK, and the first woman, EMBLA. They had allotted
to them, for a residence, Midgard, which, from being the home of man,
was called Mannheim; and from these two, Ask and Embla, are descended
the whole human race. Some time after this, Heimdal, the warder and
trumpeter of the gods, wandered over the earth under the name of
Rigr. He was received and hospitably entertained by the descendants
of Ask and Embla; first by Ai—Great Grandfather,—and Edda—Great
Grandmother,—who dwelt in a lowly hut; next by Afi—Grandfather,—and
Amma—Grandmother,—living in a comfortable habitation; and, lastly, by
Father and Mother,[33] who occupied a splendid mansion. The deity,
by his beneficent presence, infuses a vital energy into his hosts;
and, in due time after his departure, Edda, Amma, and Mother, each
give birth to a son. The infants are sprinkled with water at the
moment of their birth: Edda’s son is called Thræll—_Thrall_; Amma’s,
Karl—_Churl_; and Mother’s, Jarl, or _Noble_; and these three,
Thrall, Churl, and Noble, have each a numerous offspring. Here is an
aristocratic explanation of the three castes that appear, at an early
period, to have formed the frame-work of Scandinavian society,—the
thralls, or slaves; the churls, or free peasants—odalsmen, as they were
afterwards termed; and the nobles. The poet, in his Edda,[34] describes
the thralls as having black hair, an unsightly countenance, uncouth
appearance, and of low and deformed stature; physiological traits
characteristic of the Lapps, who were probably reduced to a state of
vassalage by their Scandinavian conquerors. The destiny of the thralls
is to toil incessantly, in order that by their labor the churls may
obtain sufficient produce from the earth to enable the nobles to live
with becoming splendor. The poet shows his contempt for this class, by
giving Thrall’s sons such names as Frousy, Stumpy, Plumpy, Sootyface,
Slowpace, Homespun, &c., and calling his daughters Lazybody, Cranefoot,
Smokynose, and Tearclout. Among the churls, sons of Karl, we find
such names as Stiffbeard, Husbandman, Holder (of land), and Smith;
the daughters being designated Prettyface, Swanlike, Blithespeech,
Chatterbox, &c. The poet, though, reserves the most of his eloquence
for the nobles, who, he says, have fair hair, a clear complexion, and
fine piercing eyes; their sole avocations being to wield the sword,
dart the javelin, rein the fiery steed, chase the deer, and other
elegant amusements, which Jarl’s descendants still delight to astonish
the churls with. Jarl—equivalent to Earl—marries Erna—Lively—the
daughter of Hersir—Baron; but the poet only gives the names of the
sons; names that usually designate relationship, as Cousin, Nephew, &c.

The literary history of Iceland, in the early ages of the republic, is
of a most interesting character. When we consider the limited population
of the country, and the many disadvantages under which they labored,
their literature is the most remarkable on record. The old Icelanders,
from the tenth to the sixteenth century, through a period in the history
of the world when little intellectual light beamed from the surrounding
nations, were as devoted and ardent workers in the fields of history and
poetry as any community in the world, under the most favorable
circumstances. Previous to the present century, the learned world seemed
to consider the writings of the Icelanders as almost unworthy of notice.
With the discovery through old manuscripts that the early voyages of the
Icelanders extended to the American coast, there was an interest
aroused, and curiosity was excited to learn the entire history of this
energetic and intellectual race. Springing from the old Norse, or
Norwegian stock, they carried the language and habits of their ancestors
with them to their island home. During a period of nearly one thousand
years, since the first settlement of the country, the Icelandic has
undergone less change—with perhaps one exception—than any language now
spoken. Though a very large number of our English words are derived
direct from the Icelandic, yet the most learned and indefatigable of our
lexicographers, both in England and America, have acknowledged their
ignorance of this language. Through the labors of Professors Rask, Rafn,
and Müller, M. Mallett, Mr. Finn Magnusen, and others, the language and
literature of this country is now open to us.

The writings of the early Icelanders are principally Eddas and Sagas.
The Eddas are the heroic poems of the day, and describe the deeds and
prowess of heroes and warriors; and some of them abound in mythological
machinery to an extent quite equal to the writings of Homer and Virgil.
The two principal Eddas are known as the Poetic, or _Elder_ Edda, and
the _Younger_, or Prose Edda. The Sagas are historical writings, give a
picture of the public and private life of the Icelanders, their manners
and customs, feuds, combats, voyages, and discoveries, biography of
eminent persons, and such a description of their national and social
state, as enables us to see the character and habits of the people
during the early years of the Icelandic Republic.

The ELDER EDDA consists of thirty-nine poems, and is ascribed to SÆMUND
SIGFUSSON, surnamed FRODE, or, “the _learned_.” He flourished at the
close of the eleventh, and beginning of the twelfth century; was
educated at the Universities of France and Germany, and returned to
Iceland, and became the parish priest of Oddi, a village near the foot
of Mt. Hekla. He devoted himself to the education of youth, deciphering
Runic manuscripts, and the cultivation of letters. Some suppose that he
was only the author of one of these poems; that he found the others in
manuscript, or obtained them from oral tradition. In proof of this, one
only—the Sólar-ljóth—Lay of the Sun—contains the least allusion to
Christianity. All the others bear marks of greater antiquity than the
eleventh century.

The PROSE, or YOUNGER EDDA, was written many years subsequent to the
Elder Edda. It contains a complete system of Scandinavian Mythology,
all, or nearly all, derived from the Elder.

The account of the Mythology of the Northmen in the former chapters, is
principally from Mallett’s account of the younger Edda,—Bishop Percy’s
translation. Snorri Sturlason, one of the most remarkable men in the
annals of Iceland, is said to be the writer and compiler of the younger
Edda. The prominent incidents of his life give a striking picture of
the manners of the age in which he lived. This was several generations
later than the time of Sæmund Frode. Snorri was born at Hvam, in Myra
Sysla, in the year 1178. He was a historian and poet, as well as a
powerful political chieftain, and at one time the wealthiest man in
Iceland. During his life he was twice elected Supreme Magistrate, or
President of the Republic. At three years of age, he was taken into
the care of John Lopston, of Oddi, grandson of Sæmund Frode, and
lived with him till he was twenty years of age. He flourished in a
stormy period, and led a turbulent and ambitious life. He received an
excellent education from his foster-father, and turned every favorable
circumstance to his own advantage. Appreciating the adage, that “money
is power,” he married Herdisa, the daughter of a priest called Bersi
the Rich—a very enviable surname, which, no doubt, enabled the reverend
gentleman to brave the bulls and decrees of popes and councils, and
take to himself a wife—who brought him a very considerable fortune.
If we judge by the career of Snorri, Christianity had not, at this
period, much improved the character of the Icelanders. We have the
same turbulent and sanguinary scenes, the same loose conduct of the
women, and the perfidy and remorseless cruelty of the men, as in Pagan
times. Snorri lived twenty-five years with Herdisa, obtained a divorce,
married a rich heiress, quarreled with a son and daughter of his first
wife respecting pecuniary matters, had a number of illegitimate, or,
rather, adulterine children, and was finally murdered by three of his
sons-in-law and a step-son. Three of his illegitimate daughters were
married to men of rank, and in more respects than one, were like the
daughters of Lear. Their husbands were obliged to get rid of them by
suing for legal divorces, on account of their loose conduct. One of
them, Ingjibjörg, married a second time, but was again divorced, and
became notorious, even in Iceland, for her debaucheries.[35] By his
marriages, his learning, shrewdness, and ambition, Snorri became the
most wealthy and powerful man in the country, and, for some time the
political head of the state. We are told that sometimes he made his
appearance at the national assembly with eight or nine hundred men
in his train. His ambition was literary, as well as political, and
his celebrity was not confined to his own country. He visited Norway,
composed and recited a poem in praise of Hacon, a powerful jarl; and
strengthened his position at home by an alliance with neighboring
chiefs on the continent. Like the emperors of Rome, he constructed a
sumptuous bath of cut stone and cement, which, to this day, is called
_Snorri-laug_, or Snorri’s Bath. It is circular, and spacious enough
to swim in. It is supplied with hot water from a spouting fountain or
geyser, by a conduit over five hundred feet in length. Though more than
six hundred years have passed since it was built, it is in good repair
at the present day, and has been used as a temporary bathing-place by
some modern travelers.

After a period of unexampled prosperity, Snorri began to experience the
frowns of fortune. His avarice, ambition, and turbulent disposition,
made him unpopular at home, and embroiled him in quarrels with
neighboring chiefs and rulers. Gissur Thorvaldsen, formerly his
son-in-law, was ordered by Hacon, king of Norway, to make him a
prisoner, and bring him before the king; and if he could not take him
alive, to bring him dead. Having an eye on his estates, Thorvaldsen
assassinated him, on the night of the 22d of September, 1241, and
immediately took possession of his property. Snorri fell in the 63d
year of his age. A letter in the Runic character, was sent to him, a
few hours before his death, warning him of his danger; but we are told,
notwithstanding his great learning and extensive acquaintance with the
antiquities and literature of the country, that he could not decipher
it. In addition to his poetical and other works, he was author and
compiler of the HEIMSKRINGLA, or “Chronicle of the Kings of Norway,” a
historical work of great interest and celebrity.

A bare recital of the titles of the different poems forming the Eddas,
would be of little interest. One was entitled the VÖLUSPA—_Völu-spá, The
Song of the Prophetess_. Another is the _Háva-mál_,[36] and contains a
complete code of Odinic morality; and, as will be seen by the following
extracts, translated by Bishop Percy, are, many of them, worthy of a
christian age and a christian people. We will close this chapter, and
our account of the Literature and Mythology of the early Icelanders, by
the following quotations from the Old Eddaic poem, the HÁVAMÁL:

1. Consider and examine well all your doors before you venture to stir
abroad; for he is exposed to continual danger, whose enemies lie in
ambush, concealed in his court.

3. To the guest who enters your dwelling with frozen knees, give the
warmth of your fire; he who hath traveled over the mountains, hath need
of food and well-dried garments.

4. Offer water to him who sits down at your table; for he hath occasion
to cleanse his hands; and entertain him honorably and kindly, if you
would win from him friendly words, and a grateful return.

5. He who traveleth hath need of wisdom. One may do at home whatsoever
one will; but he who is ignorant of good manners, will only draw
contempt upon himself when he comes to sit down with men well
instructed.

7. He who goes to a feast where he is not expected, either speaks with a
lowly voice, or is silent; he listens with his ears, and is attentive
with his eyes; by this he acquires knowledge and wisdom.

8. Happy he who draws upon himself the applause and benevolence of men!
for whatever depends upon the will of others, is hazardous and
uncertain.

10. A man can carry with him no better provision for his journey, than
the strength of understanding. In a foreign country, this will be of
more use to him than treasures; and will introduce him to the table of
strangers.

12-13. A man cannot carry a worse custom with him to a banquet, than
that of drinking too much; the more the drunkard swallows the less is
his wisdom, till he loses his reason. The bird of oblivion sings before
those who inebriate themselves, and steals away their souls.

16. A coward thinks he shall live forever, if he can but keep out of the
reach of arms; but though he should escape every weapon, old age, that
spares none, will give him no quarter.

17. The gluttonous man, if he is not upon his guard, eats his own death;
and the gluttony of a fool makes the wise man laugh.

21. The flocks know when to return to the fold, and to quit the pasture;
but the worthless and the slothful know not how to restrain their
gluttony.

22. The lewd and dissolute man makes a mock of every thing; not
considering how much he himself is the object of derision. No one ought
to laugh at another until he is free from faults himself.

23. A man void of sense ponders all night long, and his mind wanders
without ceasing; but when he is weary at the point of day, he is nothing
wiser than he was over night.

32. Many are thought to be knit in the ties of sincere kindness; but
when it comes to the proof, how much are they deceived! Slander is the
common vice of the age. Even the host backbites his guest.

37. One’s own home is the best home, though never so small. Every thing
one eats at home is sweet. He who lives at another man’s table, is often
obliged to wrong his palate.

41. Let friends pleasure each other reciprocally with presents of arms
and habits. Those who give and those who receive, continue a long time
friends, and often give feasts to each other.

43. Love both your friends and your friends’ friends; but do not favor
the friend of your enemies.

45. Hast thou a friend whom thou canst not well trust, but wouldst make
him useful to thee; speak to him with bland words, but think craftily,
and thus render him levity for lies.

47. When I was young, I wandered about alone; I thought myself rich if I
chanced to light upon a companion. A man gives pleasure to another man.

51. Peace, among the perfidious, continues for five nights to shine
bright as a flame; but when the sixth night approaches, the flame waxes
dim, and is quite extinguished; then all their amity turns to hatred.

55. Let not a man be over wise; neither let him be more curious than he
ought. Let him not seek to know his destiny, if he would sleep secure
and quiet.

67. They invite me up and down to feasts, if I have only need of a
slight breakfast: my faithful friend is he who will give me one loaf
when he has but two.

70. Whilst we live, let us live well; for be a man never so rich when he
lights his fire, death may perhaps enter his door before it be burnt
out.

72. It is better to have a son late than never. One seldom sees
sepulchral stones raised over the graves of the dead by any other hands
but those of their own offspring.

77. Riches pass away like the twinkling of an eye; of all friends, they
are the most inconstant. Flocks perish; relations die; friends are not
immortal; you will die yourself; but I know one thing alone that is out
of the reach of fate; and that is the judgment which is passed upon the
dead.

81. Praise the fineness of the day when it is ended; praise a woman when
she is buried; a sword when you have proved it; a maiden after she is
married; the ice when once you have crossed it; and the liquor after it
is drunk.

84. Trust not to the words of a girl, neither to those which a woman
utters; for their hearts have been made like the wheel that turns round;
levity was put into their bosoms.

86-87. Trust not to the ice of one day’s freezing; neither to the
serpent that lies asleep; nor to the caresses of her you are going to
marry; nor to a sword that is cracked or broken; nor to the son of a
powerful man; nor to a field that is newly sown.

90. Peace between malicious women is compared to a horse that is made to
walk over the ice not properly shod; or to a vessel in a storm without a
rudder; or to a lame man who should attempt to follow the mountain goats
with a young foal, or yearling mule.

92. He who would make himself beloved by a maiden, must entertain her
with fine discourses, and offer her engaging presents; he must also
incessantly praise her beauty. It requires good sense to be a skillful
lover.

95. The heart alone knows what passes within the heart, and that which
betrays the soul, is the soul itself. There is no malady or sickness
more severe than not to be content with one’s lot.

119. Never discover your uneasiness to an evil person, for he will
afford you no comfort.

121. Know that if you have a friend, you ought to visit him often. The
road is grown over with grass, the bushes quickly spread over it, if it
is not constantly traveled.

123. Be not the first to break with your friend. Sorrow gnaws the heart
of him who has no one to advise with but himself.

130. I advise you to be circumspect, but not too much: be so, however,
when you have drunk to excess, when you are near the wife of another,
and when you find yourself among robbers.

131. Do not accustom yourself to mocking; neither laugh at your guest
nor a stranger: they who remain at home often know not who the stranger
is that cometh to their gate.

136. Laugh not at the gray-headed declaimer, nor at the aged grandsire.
There often come forth from the wrinkles of the skin, words full of
wisdom.

140. The fire drives away diseases; Runic characters destroy the effect
of imprecations; the earth swallows up inundations; and death
extinguishes hatred and quarrels.

                               FOOTNOTES:

-----

Footnote 33:

  Faðir and Moðir.

Footnote 34:

  The _Rigsmál_, a poem of the Mythic-ethnologic class.

Footnote 35:

  Mallet.

Footnote 36:

  _Mál_, song, discourse, speech, a word cognate with the Anglo-Saxon
  _mal_, _mæl_, the Greek μέλος, &c. Háva-mál signifies the discourse or
  canticle of the sublime; _i. e._ deity. Odin himself was supposed to
  have given these precepts of wisdom to mankind.

                              CHAPTER XXVI

                   ——“Litera scripta manet,”
           The poet saith. Pray let me show my vanit-
             Y, and have “a foreign slipslop now and then,
           If but to prove I’ve traveled; and what’s travel,
           Unless it teaches one to quote and cavil?”

THE modern literature of the Icelanders is of quite a different
character from that in heathen times, and in the early history of the
country, from the tenth to the sixteenth century. They seem as much
devoted to poetry as their ancestors, and their style of versification
is similar; but they court the muse in a different strain. The poetry
of the modern Icelanders does not abound in mythology, hyperbole, and
fable; and it may reasonably be supposed that works of imagination
have lost something of the hue of romance that is thrown around
the productions of a heroic age. A study of the works of foreign
authors—translations from eminent christian poets, in Norway, Germany,
England, and the United States, are favorite pursuits of the modern
Icelanders; and works of this description are among the most popular
published in the country.

Among the original writers and translators of the present century, none
rank as high as Jon Thorlakson. Receiving a scanty salary of less than
fifty dollars a year, as parish priest of Bægisa, and laboring hard as a
farmer, he yet found time to translate from English and German writers,
and to compose original poetry, to the extent of several octavo volumes,
About the year 1818, his case attracted the attention of a learned
society in London, and a sum of money was forwarded to him to smooth his
declining years; but he survived only till 1821, being over seventy
years of age at the time of his death. His translation of Milton was
published in Icelandic, in octavo—double columns—a volume of over 400
pages, in 1828. The “Essay on Man,” and a volume of original poetry of
great merit were published in 1842. Among his original poems are two
versions of the story of Inkle and Yarico.

The style of versification in vogue among the early Icelandic writers
was very peculiar. Its harmony was dependent, not so much on rhyme and
the number of syllables in a line, as upon peculiar alliterations. Their
language abounding in consonants, this seemed easier than rhymes, which
were seldom used. Some of their kinds of verse had regular alliterations
at the commencement of the lines; other varieties, just so many
alliterations in a line, or alliterations in a similar position in
certain words of corresponding lines. The following is a very good
example. It is from an “Address to the New Year,” or, more literally,
“The sight of the New Year.”

NYARS VISUR.

                        Verði bliðda veðurs!
                        Viðir blómgi hliðar!
                        Veiðist vel á miðum!
                        Vaxi gengdin laxa!
                        Glitri grund og flötur!
                        Groi tun og floi!
                        Neytist afl til nota!
                        Nytist allt til hlitar!

How ingenious and regular are the alliterations! This is from a poem,
written in 1847. During the present century, rhymes have been gaining in
favor greatly. A longer meter and more perfect rhythm is also
cultivated. The old verse, and much of the more modern, is a very short
meter, which, to us, does not seem as poetical as a more stately and
majestic tread. Formerly, and sometimes at the present day, verse was
printed without capitals, except at the commencement of a stanza. Let us
see how old John Milton looks in an Icelandic dress; and how Mr.
Thorlakson sings:—

             Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit
             Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
             Brought death into the world and all our woe.

                         UM fyrsta manns
                         felda hlýðni
                         ok átlystíng
                         af epli forboðnu,
                         hvaðan óvægr
                         upp kom dauði,
                         Edens missir,
                         ok allt böl manna;
                           Þartil annarr einn,
                         æðri maðr,
                         aptr fær
                         oss viðreista,
                         ok afrekar nýan
                         oss til handa
                         fullsælustað
                         fögrum sigri;
                           Sýng þú, Menta-
                         móðir himneska!
                         þú sem Hórebs fyrr
                         á huldum toppi,
                         eða Sínaí,
                         sauðaverði
                         innblést fræðanda
                         útvalit sæði,
                         hve alheimr skópst
                         af alls samblandi;
                           Eða lysti þik
                         lángtum heldr
                         at Zíons hæð
                         ok Sílóa brunni,
                         sem framstreymdi
                         hjá Frétt guðligri!

We can barely recognize the “heavenly Muse”—“Mentamothir
hymneska”—Mother of hymns!—

              ——“that, on the secret top
            Of Oreb, or of Sinai, did’st inspire
            That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed,
            In the beginning, how Heaven and Earth
            Rose out of chaos.”

Thorlakson’s version of Pope’s great Essay is a later translation, and,
probably, a better one. It is longer meter, is all in rhyme, and more in
accordance with the structure of English verse.[37] Here is a selection
from the fourth epistle of the Essay, with the translation:—

           But, by your fathers’ worth, if yours you rate,
           Count me those only who were good and great.
           Go! if your ancient but ignoble blood
           Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood,
           Go! and pretend your family is young;
           Nor own your fathers have been fools so long.
           What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards?—
           Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards.

Mr. Thorlakson gives it in this style.

                 En sé yðvart hið aldna bólð
                 i ótérligum runnið straum
                 þartil nu siðan Nóa flóð,
                 narra-registar gegnum aum,
                 segið þá heldur yðar ætt
                 unga; látið ei heyra neinn
                 að sér hafi svo lengi lædt
                 i legg þeim dáraskapur einn!
                 Hvað skarn-þræl, narra, skelmskum hal,
                 skapa kann aðals-mæti góð?
                 ei heilar ættar tallaust tal
                 til vinnst, ei gjörvalt Hovarðs blóð.

One of the finest specimens of Icelandic poetry, is a translation of
Bruce’s Address to his Army, on the following page. It shows the
flexibility of the Icelandic language in a striking light; the piece
preserving the exact number of stanzas, the same number of lines to a
stanza, and rhymes precisely like the song of Burns, so that in the
Icelandic version it can be sung to the same air.

                              BANNOCKBURN.

                 AVARP ROBERT BRUCE TIL HERLITHS SINS.
                              EPTIR BURNS.

                    Skotar, er Wallace vörðust með,
                    Víg með Bruce opt hafið sjeð;
                    Velkomnir að blóðgum beð,
                        Bjartri eða sigurfrægð!

                    Stund og dagur dýr nú er;
                    Dauðinn ógnar hvar sem sjer;
                    Játvarðs að oss æðir her—
                        Ok og hlekkja nægð!

                    Hverr vill bera níðings nafn?
                    Ná hver bleyðu seðja hrafn?
                    Falla þræl ófrjálsum jafn?
                        Flýti hann burtu sjer!

                    Hverr vill hlinur Hildar báls
                    Hjör nú draga hins góða máls,
                    Standa bæði og falla frjáls?
                        Fari hann eptir mjer!

                    Ánauðar við eymd og grönd!
                    Yðar sona þrældóms bönd!
                    Vjer viljum láta líf og önd,
                        En leysa úr hlekkjum þá!

                    Fellið grimma fjendur því!
                    Frelsi er hverju höggi í!
                    Sjái oss hrósa sigri ný
                        Sol, eða orðna að ná!

We give the original, so they may be readily compared.

                              BANNOCKBURN.

                  ROBERT BRUCE’S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY.

                  Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled!
                  Scots wham Bruce has aften led!
                  Welcome to your gory bed,
                      Or to victory.

                  Now’s the day and now’s the hour;
                  See the front o’ battle lour;
                  See approach proud Edward’s power—
                      Chains and slavery!

                  Wha will be a traitor knave?
                  Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
                  Wha sae base as be a slave?
                      Let him turn and flee!

                  Wha for Scotland’s king and law,
                  Freedom’s sword will strangly draw?
                  Freeman stand, or freeman fa’,
                      Let him follow me!

                  By oppression’s woes and pains!
                  By your sons in servile chains!
                  We will drain our dearest veins,
                      But they shall be free.

                  Lay the proud usurpers low!
                  Tyrants fall in every foe!
                  Liberty’s in every blow!
                      Let us do or die!

These examples, though but _disjecta membra poetæ_, are sufficient to
show something of the structure and appearance of Icelandic poetry; and,
probably to the general reader, as interesting as a dissertation that
would fill a volume.

One more specimen, however, of their verse, shall be given; a couple of
stanzas of a very popular Icelandic hymn. It is entitled, “The weeping
of Jacob over Rachel,” or,

                       GRÁTUR JACOBS YFIR RAKEL.

                 Hvert er farin hin fagra og blíða?
                   Fórstu Rakel í svipanna heim?
                 Fyrir sunnu sje jeg nú líða
                   Svarta flóka og dimmir í geim.
                 Rakel! Rakel! daprast nú dagar,
                   Dvín mjer gleði, brátt enda mun líf;
                 Leiðir eru mjer ljósgrænir hagar—
                   Liggur í moldu hið ástkæra víf.

                 Drottinn Abrahams! deyr nú minn rómur,
                   Dauðans skuggi í hjarta mjer er;
                 Drottinn Abrahams! auður og tómur
                   Er nú heimur og dagsbirta þver;
                 Drottinn Abrahams! barn Þitt sjá bifa!
                   Blóðug falla tár þess á mund;
                 Drottinn Abrahams! lát mig ei lifa!—
                   Liggur í moldu hið harmdauða sprund.

We will now have a specimen of Icelandic prose. See how queer our good
old plain philosopher Franklin looks in a Northern dress. Here is his
“Story of a Whistle.”

                              HLJÓTHPÍPAN.

                      EPTIR DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
                  Sönn saga—skrifuð frænda hans ungum.

    Það bar til einhvern helgidag þegar eg var eitthvað sjö vetra
    gamall, að kunningjar mínir fylltu vasa mína koparskildingum.
    Jeg gekk þá strax beina leið til búdar þar sem barnagull voru
    seld; en á leiðinni mætti jeg dreng, sem hjelt á _hljóðpípu_, og
    þótti mjer svo fallegt hljóðið í henni, að jeg bauð honum af
    fyrra bragði allt fje mitt fyrir hana. Siðan fór eg heim og gekk
    um öll hús blásandi á _hljóðpípuna_ mína, og var hinn kátasti þó
    eg gjörði öllum heimamönnum ónæði. Bræður mínir, systur, og
    frændur komust brátt að um kaupskap minn, og sögðu mjer þa að eg
    hefði gefið fjórum sinnum meira fyrir pípuna enn hún væri verð.
    Þá fór eg að hugsa um hvað marga góða gripi eg hefði getað
    eignast fyrir það, sem eptir hefði mátt vertða af skildingum
    minum; og þau hlóu svo lengi að heimsku minni, að jeg grjet af
    gremju, og umhugsanin um þetta hriggði mig meira enn
    _hljóðpípan_ gladdi mig.

    Þetta atvik kom mjer þó síðan til nota, því áhrifin urðu eptir í
    sál minni; og opt, þegar freistni kom að mjer að kaupe einhvern
    óþarfann, sagði eg við sjálfan mig, _gefðu ei of mikið fyrir
    hlóðpípuna_; og með því móti hjelt eg fje mínu.

    Þegar eg óx upp, komst út í heiminn, og fór að taka eptir
    breitni manna, þá fannst mjer svo sem eg hitti marga, mjög
    marga, sem _gáfu of mikið fyrir hljóðpípuna_.

    Þegar eg sá mann, af eintómri eptirsókn eptir hylli konunga,
    eyða aldri sínum í því að bíða eptir hentugleikum þeirra, fórna
    næði sínu, frelsi, dygð og jafnvel vinum sínum, til að ná henni,
    þá sagði jeg við sjálfan mig, _þessi maður gefur of mikið fyrir
    hljóðpípu sína_.

    Þegar eg sá annan mann láta mikið af alþýðu hylli, og verja
    stundum sínum til að kvetja menn til óspekta, en sjálfum sjer
    til óbætanlegs skaða vanrækja efni sín; _hann gefur sannarlega_,
    sagði eg þá, _of mikið fyrir hljóðpípu sína_.

    Ef eg sje einhvern armingja, sem einasta til þess að geta hrúgað
    saman auðæfum, afneitar sjer um alla þægilegleika lífsins, alla
    þá ánægju, sem í því er að gjöra vel við aðra, alla virðingu
    segi eg þa, _þjer gefið vissulega of mikið fyrir hljóðpípu
    yðar_.

    Þegar eg mæti gleðimandi, sem fórnar hverju tækifært til að
    auðga sál sína eða bæta hag sinn á lofsverðan hátt, og það vegna
    eintómrar holdlegrar nautnar: _óláns-maður_, segi eg þá, _þjer
    bakið yður böl en ei gleði_: _þjer gefið of mikið fyrir
    hljóðpípu yðar_.

    Sjái jeg mann af tómri hjegómadýrð sækjast eptir dýrindis fötum,
    hússgögnum og öðrum útbunaði, allt meira enn efni hans leyfa,
    safna fyrir þá sök skuldum og lenda loks í díflissu; _æ_, segi
    eg þá, _hann hefur dýrkeypt, mjög dýrkeypt, hljóðpípu sína_.

    Þegar eg sje fagra, blíðlynda meyju, gefna illum og hroðalegum
    svola; _mikil hörmung er það_, segi eg þá, _að hún skuli hafa
    gefið svona mikið fyrir eina hljóðpípu_.

    Í stuttu máli, eg komst að raun um að mikill hluti af eydum
    manna kemur af því að þeir meta ranglega gildi hluta, og gefa of
    mikið fyrir _hljóðpípur_ sínar.

The word _Hljothpipan_, literally translated, is a pipe, or musical
instrument, made out of a reed. These extracts from Icelandic literature
are undoubtedly very interesting! If not so readily perused as our
English, they at least show the literary taste of the Icelanders, and
something of the variety and style of their composition. Here is an
extract from a newspaper published in Reykjavik a few days after I left;
a copy of which I received by mail after arriving in New York.

               From the Þjoðolfur[38] of Aug. 20th, 1852.

  Eptirfylgjandi GREIN bað ferðamaðurinn herra PLINY MILES rektor
    herra BJARNA JÓNSSON að láta prenta í Þjóðólfi, og senda honum
    svo til Vesturheims.

      Herra _Pliny Miles_, Vesturheimsmaður og meðlimur
    Sagnafjelagsins í Nýju Jórvík, hefur um bríð dvalið á Íslandi og
    farið víða um hjeröð landsins. Hann hefur skoðað _Geisir_, litla
    _Geisir_, brennisteinnámurnar í _Krisuvik_, og hann kom upp á
    tindinn á _Heklu_. Herra _Miles_ hefur skoðað og aðgætt nokkrar
    bækur landsins, og hefur hann haft heim með sjer til Vesturheims
    nokkrar íslenzkar bækur. Stiptsbókasafnið hefur sent böggul af
    bókum þjóðbókasafni Vesturheims, er _Smithson_ er höfundur að,
    til endurgjalds fyrir dýrar bækur, er stiptsbókasafnið hafði
    nýlega fengið frá bókasafni _Smithsons_. Herra _Miles_ siglir á
    póstskipinu til meginlands Norðurálfunnar, og tjáir hann sig
    mikillega ánægðan með allt, sem hann hefur sjeð út á Íslandi.

A translation of this is scarcely required, as its purport can be
readily seen. It is a short article written by Mr. Bjarni Johnson, for
the THIOTHOLFUR, and giving an account of the author’s visit to Iceland.

In the Icelandic, whole sentences from other languages are thrown
into one word. The word _Vesturheimsmathur_, fully translated,
is _a man who has his home on the western continent_. It goes on
to speak of this native of the West, as a member of the New York
Historical Society—“Sagnafjelagsins”—and that, during a somewhat
rainy period, he visited Iceland, traveled through the interior of
the country, went to the Geyser, the little Geyser, the Sulphur
Mountains—“brennisteinnámurnar”—of Krisuvik, and climbed to the top of
Hekla. It speaks of the visit as a pleasant one, and that on the return
of the traveler to America—“Vesturheims”—he took some books from the
Iceland public library—“stiptsbókasafnith”—as a present to the American
Smithsonian library, in return for a similar present formerly received
from Smithson’s. Then he journeyed on the mail packet—“póstskipinu”—to
the continent of Europe, after a long tour and an agreeable stay in
Iceland.

This shall close our extracts. Lest some may think that the writer of
this volume is an enthusiast, and overrates the value of Icelandic
literature, the following statement is quoted from the preface to the
English translation of Rask’s Icelandic Grammar, by Hon. George P.
Marsh, and shows the high estimate placed on the language and literature
of the Northmen, by this eminent linguist.

    The translator cannot here enter upon so copious a subject as
    the character and value of the literature of Iceland; and it
    must suffice to remark, that in the opinion of those most
    competent to judge, it has never been surpassed, if equaled, in
    all that gives value to that portion of history which consists
    of spirited delineations of character, and faithful and lively
    pictures of events among nations in a rude state of society.

    That the study of the Old-Northern tongue may have an important
    bearing on English grammar and etymology, will be obvious when
    it is known that the Icelandic is most closely allied to the
    Anglo-Saxon, of which so few monuments are extant; and a slight
    examination of its structure, and remarkable syntactical
    character, will satisfy the reader, that it may well deserve the
    attention of the philologist.

                               FOOTNOTES:

-----

Footnote 37:

  A sample is given at the head of Chapter IV., page 61, of this volume.

Footnote 38:

  “The Statesman.”

                             CHAPTER XXVII

                MATTERS PERSONAL, LITERARY, AND GENERAL.

THE Icelanders, as I have pictured them, are intellectual in their
tastes; and in domestic life they are highly social. Their amusements
are few, their enjoyments being principally in the family, at their
labor, and attending public worship. Throughout the country, they gather
from a circuit of many miles, to hear their ministers proclaim “glad
tidings,” and tell them of the reward that awaits a well-spent life. In
the long winter evenings, one member of the family is much of the time
reading aloud, while the others are engaged in domestic duties,
spinning, weaving, knitting, and making clothing and domestic utensils,
in which the males as well as the females, all engage. In their personal
demeanor, the Icelanders are generally quiet, sober, and somewhat
taciturn. A love of amusement, and a fondness for sport, is not common.
Some of the Icelanders that I have seen, have had a great deal of
vivacity, and large conversational powers. Some that have visited
foreign countries, have returned home so impressed with their experience
of the great and busy world; that they have infused a spirit of activity
and inquiry into the whole circle where they move. They tell of one man,
an Icelander, who got off to the continent, and went through all the
wars of Napoleon, and after many years returned to his native land. He
was so glad to see his own good island, that he fell down and embraced
the earth, and declared, in the words of the national proverb, “Iceland
is the best country the sun shines upon.”[39] With all that the poor
soldier had seen of the luxury and variety of foreign countries, there
was, to him, “no place like home.” While the Icelander is fond of
conversation, when in the presence of strangers he rather listen than
talk. They come well up to Dr. Johnson’s favorite character, a good
listener. When a foreigner calls at the house of an Icelander, he
attends first to the personal wants of his guest; then he is desirous of
learning all the stranger has to communicate. He is shrewd and
inquisitive, and asks the most pertinent and ingenious questions, and
never rests satisfied till he has learned with great minuteness all that
the stranger has to tell him respecting the great world, and the foreign
countries he has seen. He is always most respectful and obliging, and
ready to communicate information, and answer questions about every thing
relating to his country or pursuits. He seems to appreciate the greater
amount of wealth and luxury abroad, and the superior magnificence and
splendor of cities like Copenhagen, Paris, London, or New York, as
compared to his own small towns; yet his _amor patriæ_ and contentment
make him superior to all temptations to emigrate. His industry, fondness
for reading and conversing, his great integrity of character, a
devotional spirit, and ardent love for the precepts and practices of
Christianity—these, with his contentment and love of liberty, are the
most prominent characteristics of the Icelander. They do not show much
fondness for exact science, though they pay some attention to the
studies of geography and natural history. Having no fuel but turf—except
what is imported—none of the precious or useful metals, no material,
except wool, for the manufacture of textile fabrics, raising no fruits
or grain, and having little use for water or steam power, they have few
incentives to exert themselves in acquiring a knowledge of chemistry,
mineralogy, geology, electricity, magnetism, hydraulics, pneumatics, or
many of the mechanic and useful arts. “Circumstances make men,” or bring
out certain traits of character; and the Icelander forms no exception to
the general rule. We see how he is placed. Obtaining his subsistence
from the products of the earth and the sea, engaged little in traffic,
he does not experience much of the fraud and wrong that is found in the
busy haunts of men; and in him we see little but the gentle and better
characteristics of our nature.

The Icelander is poor, and books are to him a luxury; yet he possesses
more, in proportion to his means, than the natives of any other country.
We shall see by comparison and looking at facts, what their intellectual
resources are. The number of books, of all sizes, published in Iceland
in each of the years 1847 and 1848, was seventeen—thirty-four volumes in
two years; and these for a community of 60,000 people. Were there as
many in proportion printed for our population of twenty-five millions,
the number of books—distinct works, independent of periodicals—published
annually in the United States, would be over seven thousand. The most of
the Iceland books are duodecimos and octavos; the largest volume for the
year 1847 containing 928 pages. This was a sort of “Congressional
Globe,” though not issued in numbers—a record of the proceedings of
their Althing or Congress.[40] This seems like a pretty lengthy journal
of a session that lasted but little over a month. They passed a number
of acts of much importance to the people; and very likely the session
was enlivened with as many “speeches to Buncombe,” as we hear in the
same length of time on Capitol Hill.

Some of the works published in Icelandic, are issued from the press in
Copenhagen; but the majority of them are printed and bound in Iceland.
They have several printing-presses constantly at work, and three
newspapers—one once a week, and two issued once a fortnight. In
mechanical execution, their books and newspapers are turned out in
better style than the average of those issued from the American press.
They are, however, always without illustrations.

From what has been said, it will be seen that the Icelanders of the
present day are a different people from those of an earlier period. In
former times, the tyranny of rulers and the ambition of demagogues, kept
up a warlike spirit, and an ardent love of political liberty. While they
were less amiable and peaceful, they showed, both in letters and
politics, a greater degree of activity. Lest it may be thought that I
have drawn too favorable a picture of the early Icelanders, I will here
give an extract from a learned dissertation on the history and
literature of Iceland, by the distinguished Dr. (now Sir Henry) Holland,
who visited the country in 1810, in company with Sir George Mackenzie.

    Like the aurora borealis of their native sky, the poets and
    historians of Iceland not only illuminated their own country,
    but flashed the lights of their genius through the night which
    then hung over the rest of Europe. Commerce was pursued by the
    inhabitants with ardor and success; and they partook of the
    maritime adventures of discovery and colonization, which gave so
    much merited celebrity to the Norwegians of this period. Of the
    several features which distinguish this remarkable period in the
    history of Iceland, the literary character of the people is
    doubtless the most extraordinary and peculiar. We require much
    evidence to convince us of the fact that a nation remote from
    the rest of Europe, dwelling on a soil so sterile, and beneath
    such inclement skies, should have sent forth men whose genius,
    taste, and acquirements did honor to their country, and to the
    times in which they lived. Such evidence, however, of the most
    distinct and decisive kind, we possess in the many writings
    which have come down from this period to the present age, and in
    the testimonies afforded by the cotemporaneous writers of other
    countries. The reality of the fact, indeed, can admit of no
    doubt; and it is only left for us to speculate upon the causes
    which led to this singular anomaly in the history of
    literature.[41]

The above was written forty years ago, and by one of the most
intelligent travelers that ever visited Iceland.

I was asked by the Icelanders, if it would not be an object for some of
my countrymen to settle in Iceland, and teach them the practical and
productive arts as understood in my country. I told them, I did not
think it would be an object for the natives of any country I knew to go
and settle there. The restrictive laws of Denmark do not favor trade
with foreigners; the country produces too little variety, and too small
quantities of suitable articles for exportation, to create a trade of
much magnitude. Their soil is, a majority of it, entirely unproductive;
and the balance produces too little ever to support a numerous
population. The articles they have are good of the kind; they raise
excellent beef and mutton; the wool of their sheep is soft and durable,
but not fine or handsome. It is not so good for first-class
manufactures, as the sheep are often pied, spotted, and variegated in
color; and it is not so good for coloring, as they always pull it off of
the animals, instead of shearing it.[42] Fish—salmon and cod—are
important articles of export; and their horses, though small, are very
desirable animals. A little larger than the Shetland pony, often of
singular color, hardy, gentle, and docile; for pony carriages, and for
children and females to ride, I think they would be a desirable addition
to our stock of horses in the United States. A schooner-load of them
went from Iceland to Scotland, when I was in the country; and I have no
doubt they sold at a good profit, as the average cost was less than ten
dollars a head. As these animals are never fed in winter, they are
necessarily raised very cheaply; and, were trade open with foreign
countries, I have no doubt a great demand would spring up for them, and
add largely to the profits of the Iceland farmer. Apropos of this
subject of free trade, I will here give an extract from the letter of an
intelligent Icelander, which I have just received, and which was written
after the commencement of hostilities in Europe. There is no reason why
the king of Denmark should not open the trade of Iceland equally to all
nations. It is not a particle of pecuniary benefit to his kingdom, as
there are no duties charged; but, by restricting the trade to Danish
vessels, it is kept as a kind of monopoly by a few merchants of
Copenhagen; while the poor Icelanders complain greatly of the oppression
and hardship of being dependent for their foreign necessaries and
luxuries, entirely on a few grasping speculators. Whenever the Iceland
Althing passes an act opening their ports to all nations, the king
vetoes the bill. They murmur at it as great injustice; but what avail
the murmurs of the weak? During the last war in Europe—1810-12—Denmark
came near losing the colony in two different ways. One was, the enemy
came near taking possession; and another escape they had, the “mother
country” not being able to protect the island, or send them supplies,
the people came near starving to death; and were only saved from the
greatest destitution by the clemency and liberality of Great Britain, in
treating the Icelanders as “friends,” while the country was at war with
Denmark. If his Danish Majesty should feel compelled to take up arms in
the present struggle, the island would be in similar peril. Respecting
this, and some other subjects, the following letter, from a learned
Icelander—the President of the Iceland College—will be read with
interest:

                                         Reykjavik, March 1st, 1854.

    SIR:

    As to political news, I have not much to relate; nor, I am sure,
    do you expect much from this quarter; yet, a change is about to
    take place in our commercial relations. In all probability, the
    Danish government will, after a monopoly of two and a half
    centuries, at length, this year, condescend to allow of our free
    intercourse, for mercantile purposes, with all nations. It would
    be superfluous to write you any thing about the impending war;
    but I cannot forbear stating, that in case of war between
    England and Russia, to which Denmark would probably be
    constrained to become a party, our situation here, in this
    island, would needs become very precarious.

    Sir: I should be charmed to visit your stately country, to get
    an idea of her soaring aspirations, to view her wonders of
    civilization, with all her rapid improvements. She seems to be
    the only country that at present enjoys the blessings of
    freedom, and on whose soil liberty can prosper. But I very much
    fear my desire of paying a visit there will ever remain a “_pium
    votum_” which neither my financial circumstances nor my
    occupation will allow of.

    Though you have, dear sir, already rendered me so many important
    services, I must, before concluding this letter, once more
    importune you with a boon, which is in the interest of my
    college, to procure me a copy of the following work, a most
    excellent one, by one of your countrymen—“Report on Education in
    Europe, to the Trustees of the Girard College for Orphans, by
    Alex. Dallas Bache, Philadelphia, 1839.” I have made several
    applications to my bookseller in Copenhagen, but all in vain.
    Then, I should feel much obliged to you, if you could procure
    me, by the means of your influential friends in America and
    Great Britain, some examination papers from some of your
    colleges or schools of England, especially from Eton, Harrow, or
    Winchester, containing the questions put to the pupils, as well
    as copies of the best answers to them; together with specimens
    of their exercises in Latin and Greek. If you could comply with
    this desire of mine, you would render yourself one of the
    benefactors of our college. I could send the expense to Mr.
    Younghusband, your correspondent in Liverpool.

                                I remain, sir,
                                   Your faithful and obliged friend,
                                               BJARNI JOHNSON.

    To PLINY MILES, Esq.,
        Washington.

A man who can write thus, who can so express himself, in the purest and
most forcible English, does not belong to a community of people who are
entirely ignorant of the world at large, or indifferent to the national,
political, and educational movements of the powerful nations of the
earth. If the Danish government should open the ports of Iceland to all
nations, it would be in accordance with the advanced and progressive
spirit of the age, and while conferring a great benefit on a quiet,
peaceful, and isolated colony, knit more closely the ties of affection
and union between the colonists and the parent country. Then we might
chronicle the arrival and departure of vessels, _a little oftener_,
between the northern isle of the ocean and our own seaports.

Last year, a ship bearing the classic name of the “SAGA,”[43] sailed
into the harbor of New-York, direct from Iceland, _being the first
arrival from that country to this, in a period of more than eight
hundred years_! I think the maritime records of the world would be
searched in vain for a parallel case. The crew of this ship were the
“followers” of Eric the Red, and his compeers, who discovered the
American continent, and gave it the name of Vinland; but they were
certainly a long time in following him.[44]

                               FOOTNOTES:

-----

Footnote 39:

  “_Island er hinn besta land, sem solinn skinnar uppá._”

Footnote 40:

  “Tiðindi frá Alþingi. Annað þing, 1 Juli til 7 Agust, 1847.”

Footnote 41:

  From “Mackenzie’s Iceland;” “Preliminary Dissertation” on the
  Literature and History of the country, by Dr. Henry Holland.

Footnote 42:

  This may be thought barbarous and cruel; but probably it is not; for
  it is pulled at two or three different times, and only that portion
  pulled off that comes easy. Then, perhaps, too, custom is something,
  like the adage of the eels, &c.

Footnote 43:

  A vessel—the “BALDAUR,” as it was printed in the newspapers—seems to
  have derived its name from Northern Mythology—“Baldur, the Fair.” This
  ship was spoken of as having sailed near a steamer on the track of the
  missing “_Glasgow_.” Now and then, it seems, a name, or maritime
  event, connects us with the far north.

Footnote 44:

  Since the above was in type, intelligence has arrived from Denmark,
  that a law has just been passed, throwing open the ports of Iceland to
  the trade of the world. For this, none will rejoice more than the
  Icelanders themselves; for a more relentless, grinding, and hated
  monopoly never oppressed a poor people. The resident Danish merchants
  will now not be able to have every thing their own way. As the law
  takes effect in April, 1855, a trade between Iceland and England, and
  Iceland and America, will soon spring up. The articles that the
  Icelanders most require from foreign countries, and the productions of
  the island which they have to export, will be found enumerated in
  preceding chapters.

                             CHAPTER XXVIII

                RAMBLES BROUGHT TO A CLOSE—EMBARKATION.

THOUGH this little book was not written for the Iceland market, I cannot
help making one or two remarks respecting their own internal affairs.
Most undoubtedly they have learned more from experience than a foreigner
from a hasty visit could teach them, but I believe they do not
appreciate the productiveness and value of their soil. As scanty as are
the agricultural resources of Iceland, and as short as their seasons
are, I am confident that this “art of arts” might be greatly advanced
here. Plowing would, certainly, in many places, greatly improve their
land, smooth the surface, and enable them to lay it down with a better
quality of grass. Their seed would, the most of it, however, have to be
brought from foreign countries. On seeing their fine meadows of “red
top”—the kind of grass most prevalent,—I at once told them that the
white, if not the red clover, would be much more productive than their
native grasses. Afterwards, I saw many farms in the valleys of the Laxá
and the Thiorsá rivers, that were well seeded with white clover; and as
it was the haying season, I could see that these farms yielded about
double the hay that other farms did, where there was no clover. The
clover had once been sown, and then it had propagated itself. I believe
many of the more favorably located farms could be made to produce barley
and oats, if the land were properly prepared. These grains are raised in
Orkney, Shetland, and the Faroe Isles; and the latter group is but
little south of Iceland. Nothing would do, however, without plowing; and
in Iceland never a horse wore harness yet, so it would take a little
time to get such a business started. If the governor of Iceland were a
thoroughly practical man, he could do much towards introducing these and
other improvements. A good opening place for the plow would be the
“public square” in Reykjavik, about two acres of irregular grass; that,
once broken up, and leveled, and seeded down to white clover, would make
a beautiful village green. If they had plows, they would make larger
gardens than they now do with the spade, and more table vegetables would
be raised. This would be conducive to the health and comfort of the
people, and would, probably, in time, if not entirely eradicate at least
greatly reduce the diseases of the skin, and that terrible plague, the
leprosy; both of which are somewhat common, and undoubtedly produced, or
greatly aggravated, by living to a great extent on animal food.

The Icelanders, like all other ancient people, are extremely attached to
their own customs, and averse to innovation. I noticed one thing here,
that—though, as Captain Cuttle would say, there was not much wisdom in
it—is characteristic of every people under the sun. While fond of every
foreign article, particularly of ornament, they about entirely neglected
the native productions. With great pains and trouble, they would rear in
their houses, geraniums, roses, fuchsias, violets, and other exotics,
and yet neglect to plant one single native flower. The beautiful and
fragrant heath, common over much of Iceland, does not grow within
several miles of Reykjavik; and yet not one single resident had planted
by his dwelling a stalk of this elegant little shrub, to bloom and give
out perpetual fragrance. I saw, also, beautiful annual flowers growing
wild in the fields, and on the river banks, but which were never
cultivated. Sir George Mackenzie has given a list of the Iceland Flora,
and a pretty long catalogue it is.

I believe a carriage road could be made in some places, particularly
between Reykjavik and Hafnarfiorth; but then it might not pay to attempt
to make many carriage roads, and introduce wheeled vehicles in Iceland.
If the land was leveled and seeded down, and bogs and wet places
drained, and converted into dry, productive meadows, I believe it would
be an object for the larger farmers to have carts to draw their hay on,
rather than carry it in bundles on the backs of men or horses. Then,
too, if their meadows were smooth the product would be much greater, and
they would be able to introduce a much larger scythe than the little
two-foot knife-blade affair used there at present. With the improvement
of their land, their tools could be greatly improved. The population of
Iceland has been stated at 60,000 souls, and probably the increase is
not one-and-a-half per cent. annually. Women, as well as men, work in
the fields, during the hay season; but, in fishing, the men only are
engaged. The exposure attendant on this latter business gives many
complaints of the lungs; and probably more die of consumption than of
any other disease. The plague, about five hundred years ago, visited
Iceland; but cholera and yellow fever have never been here. There are
but few physicians in the country, and the distances they have to travel
often make their services of no avail, Death calling on the patient
before the doctor does. In countries of more luxury and refinement,
Death often calls soon after the doctor! From what I learn, I should
judge longevity was not as great here as in most countries in the
temperate zones.

The last Sunday I was in Iceland I attended church at the Reykjavik
cathedral. This is a beautiful little edifice, of brick, with a fine
altar—altogether of an ornamental appearance. The sermon was in
Icelandic, the service Lutheran, but much after the style of the Church
of England. Three Sundays out of four, I think it is, that the service
in this place is in Icelandic, and every fourth Sunday in Danish. What
the use may be of having any service in Danish is more than I can tell,
for a more worldly, ungodly set than the Danish merchants of Iceland I
never saw in a Christian country. At this place, their example has
driven nearly all religious observances away from the Icelanders. Though
the day was beautiful, and but one church in the village, and all
professing the same religion, and all the people, too, understanding
both languages, there were not, from among the twelve hundred people of
the place, fifty worshipers. This certainly does not accord with what I
have said of the moral and religious habits of the Icelanders in
general. I do not think I do the Danes injustice, when I lay the
immorality in and around Reykjavik to their influence and example. In
several villages and country places I had a good opportunity of
observing, and I know that ten times greater proportion of the people
attended church than here in Reykjavik. A class like these merchants,
who notoriously do nothing but traffic, make money, gamble, and drink,
cannot improve the morals of a simple, pious, and intellectual people.

The people assembled at the church very quietly, and took their seats
without tarrying at the door, or entering into conversation. They were
all dressed neatly, and two or three females wore the ancient costume of
the country. It is very picturesque, but

              “Description will not suit itself in words.”

I cannot do better than give another extract from the letter of
President Johnson—quoted in last chapter—under date of March 1st, 1854,
as well as part of one written the November previous. Only a portion of
the letters are given, and all of this is of a private and personal
nature, intended for no eye but my own. Barring the compliments that are
given, the extracts will be read with interest, both as showing the
composition of an Icelander in a foreign language, and the educational,
parochial, and local news communicated. Commencing his letter of March
1st, he says:

    “MY DEAR SIR!

    “I have to acknowledge from you the third letter since we
    parted—of Dec. 4th, last (Washington)—together with a large
    parcel of books, all sent to me by the care of your friend Mr.
    Younghusband, at Liverpool, who, besides, had the kindness to
    write me a very friendly letter, and send me the last copies of
    the leading newspapers of Great Britain.—Indeed, sir, I feel
    quite ashamed at receiving so many proofs of your friendship,
    without being capable of giving you the least mark of my
    gratitude; for all I can furnish is our little “Þjoðolfur,”[45]
    a poor return for all your liberality. To this I take the
    liberty to add an examination paper—(Program[46])—in Icelandic
    and Danish—of the management and teaching of our College, for
    the year 1852, ’53.

    I have forwarded all your presents to the persons interested
    that are living here in town and neighborhood: such as were
    destined for the interior of the country, I must keep till the
    spring, all communication therewith being impracticable except
    on foot. Now I am charged with the task of bringing you their
    thanks, for your kindness in remembering them when you had so
    little to thank for. I left your direction with them, intimating
    that a letter from them would be much esteemed by you, even
    though written in Danish or Icelandic. And as to news concerning
    your acquaintances here, all is unchanged. None of the ladies
    you mention, are married. The Misses Johnson are keeping a
    female school pretty successfully; the Misses Sivertsen living
    with their parents, and I am to tell you the compliment of their
    father.[47] He has delivered to me the flask you so kindly
    presented me with, and which I shall keep as a souvenir of you,
    though rather too small for my capacious stomach! The Dean
    Johnson is going to leave in March, to the regret of his
    friends. He is to have another living in the interior of the
    country. Thorarensen has left the College, and you will find his
    name (S. Thorarensen) as well as that of Jon Sveinson in the
    examination paper I send you here inclosed. Mrs. Egilson,[48]
    Mr. Ranthrys, the Apothecary, and his lady, Mr. Jon Arnason,[49]
    were all extremely pleased with the _N. Y. Illustrated News_ you
    sent them. I have also to salute you from the Bishop.”

In Mr. Johnson’s letter of Nov. 15th, 1853, he says:

    “I have to acknowledge from you the reception of two letters;
    the former of Sept. 24, 1852 (Glasgow), the latter of Sept. 5,
    this year (Washington), both attended with newspapers, for which
    I feel very much obliged to you, as for your friendship in
    general. I am very glad to learn by your latter letter, that you
    are returned sound and safe to your native country, from your
    long and checkered journey. But I trust you will not repent the
    toils and hardships inseparably connected with such a ’tour’
    almost around the world. You will, I am sure, allow of its
    important consequences for our own mental improvement and
    development. Old Horace says: ’_Qui multorum providus urbes et
    mores hominum inspexit—latumque per æquor, aspera multa pertulit
    adversis rerum immersabilis undis_.’

    “I am very much indebted to you for the copies of newspapers you
    so kindly have sent to me. However, I deeply regret none of them
    contained your lectures upon the curiosities of this country, as
    in general what attracted your notice on your extensive journey.
    But then I console myself by your kind promise to send me a copy
    of your Travels in Iceland, when ready from the press.

    I have to announce to you Jon Sveinson’s most heartfelt thanks
    for your letter of introduction to your friend at Hull,[50]
    which benefited him very much during his stay there; and I feel
    obliged to join my thanks to his, as it was on my recommendation
    that you gave him the said letter. Indeed, sir, he feels very
    much bound in gratitude to you and your friends for all the
    kindness they poured on him. He has now left the college—last
    season—with a very honorable testimonial; and but for the
    cholera that has been raging in Denmark during the latter part
    of the last summer, he would have gone to the University of
    Copenhagen; but now having postponed his journey thither to the
    next spring, he passes this winter at his father’s, who is a
    reputed clergyman of easy circumstances, in the interior of this
    country. Jon Sveinson’s visit to Hull, has also procured me a
    friend there. The last summer, I had successively received some
    copies of English newspapers, without knowing from what quarter
    they came. I thought of you or some of my other friends in Great
    Britain; but a couple of months ago I received a letter from Mr.
    Archibald Kidd, Saville street, Hull (if I decipher his name
    correctly), who informed me that it was to him I was indebted
    for the favor of the newspapers, and who asked me some
    information about the means of studying Icelandic literature,
    and the method of setting out about it. I most readily complied
    with his request, as far as I could, and wrote him by the last
    post-ship for Liverpool. As he intimated to know you, I expect
    you to be so kind as to give me in your next letter some
    information about this gentleman.

    I send you enclosed a copy of the _Thiotholfur_ for the whole
    year 1852-53. I wish you to tell me whether I am to continue it.
    This I might easily do, especially in the summer time, as at
    that season there are frequent occasions for sending to England;
    whereas, in winter it is more difficult, the only ship going
    there being the post-ship, and my extensive official
    correspondence with the ministry of public instruction seldom
    permitting me sufficient leisure to write to my private friends.

    “Now, I wish these lines may find you in good health and
    happiness; and I sign myself, my dear sir,

                                    “Your very much indebted friend,
                                                “BJARNI JOHNSON.”

    “To Mr. PLINY MILES,
          Washington.”

It should be stated that the great _capacity_ of my friend does not
consist in the appetite, so much as a certain _embonpoint_, coming, as
he does partly up to Shakspeare’s description of Cardinal Wolsey—“a man
of an unbounded stomach.”

In closing my account of the Icelanders at Reykjavik, I have to record
the pleasure and profit that I derived from the friendly attentions of
these excellent people. I spent many and most pleasant hours with
President Johnson, and with Mr. Sivertsen and his wife and daughters;
also a most agreeable evening at the house of the Dean, Rev. Mr.
Johnson, who made a small party on my account. The young ladies in this
family, as also in Mr. Sivertsen’s, and Mr. Ranthry’s, contributed much
to the agreeable socialities of my stay in Reykjavik. Were these fair
daughters of the North to appear in society in England or America, a
comparison to their disadvantage could not be drawn. Speaking several
languages—always two or more—good players on the pianoforte and the
guitar, skilled also in vocal music, and to these accomplishments, add a
knowledge of household duties, and I fear that many of the graduates of
our female boarding-schools could not successfully come into competition
with them. I also partook of the hospitalities of their most excellent
bishop, who lives a little way out of town, on a pleasant part of the
coast, opposite the island of Vithey. Before leaving Copenhagen, and on
my return there, I formed a most agreeable acqaintance with Mr. Gisli
Brinjulfsson, quite a young man, but already enjoying a good literary
reputation, both in his own country and in Denmark. He is a graduate of
the Iceland College, and edited for two successive years the
“NORTHURFARI,”[51]—an Iceland “Annual.” This volume gives a _résumé_ of
the political news of the world for the year previous, together with
tales, original poetry, and many interesting translations from English
and American writers. But the time of my departure from the country,
arrives and these jottings must close. As the vessel prepared to sail,
several of my Iceland friends came to see me off, and wish me a pleasant
journey. As I took their parting hands, I could not but think that this,
in all human probability, was our last meeting on earth. Promises to
write and send newspapers were mutually interchanged. The booming gun
echoes o’er the broad waters—the sail is set—the mountains fast
disappearing in the distance, and the shores of Iceland grow dim on my
sight. The little ship with the wandering pilgrim goes dancing over the
waves.

                 “The land is no longer in view,
                   The clouds have begun to frown;
                 But, with a stout vessel and crew,
                   We’ll say, let the storm come down.

                 “And the song of our hearts shall be,
                   While the winds and waters rave,—
                 A home, a home, on the firm-set lea!
                   And _not_ on the bounding wave!”

                               FOOTNOTES:

-----

Footnote 45:

  “Þjoðolfur,” the Reykjavik newspaper.

Footnote 46:

  “Efterretninger.”

Footnote 47:

  To this excellent gentleman, Mr. Sivertsen, I am indebted for numerous
  hospitalities. Forty-two years before, in 1810, he entertained at his
  house Sir George Mackenzie and his companions.

Footnote 48:

  Widow of Sweinborn Egilson, a poet and literary man, who died a few
  days after I left the country.

Footnote 49:

  Librarian of the public library at Reykjavik.

Footnote 50:

  Mr. Joseph W. Leng, Publisher and Bookseller, Saville street, Hull; a
  gentleman of intelligence and high worth, to whom I am indebted for
  many kind attentions to myself, as well as for his favors to my young
  Iceland friend.

Footnote 51:

  “Norðurfari,”—literally, Northern Journalist.

                              CHAPTER XXIX

      And we sailed, and we flew, and went near the Maelstrom bay,
      And we danced, and we frolicked, and we fiddled all the way.
                                                         OLD SONG.

A FINE morning in August found our little schooner dancing over the
waves of the Greenland strait. Towering up on our right, was the lofty
Snæfell Jokull, one of the highest mountains in Iceland. It has the
regular conical shape of most volcanoes. It is six thousand feet high,
being one-third higher than Vesuvius. At this season about two-thirds of
its height is black, and the rest is covered with perpetual snow. When
more than fifty miles to the south, I took a drawing of it. It is near
the end of a long peninsula, south of Breithifiorth, and very nearly the
westernmost point of Iceland. The sharp outline of the mountain is
distinctly visible in the clear atmosphere here for more than a hundred
miles. This volcano has not had an eruption for several centuries. Two
or three parties of modern travelers have been to the summit. They have
described the ascent, after reaching the snow-line, as extremely
dangerous. Wide and deep cracks in the everlasting ice, and treacherous
bridges of snow, made the danger so great that they tied themselves in a
string, to a long rope, and walked about six feet apart. Then, if one
man fell through into a chasm, the rest pulled him out. No lives were
lost, however, in these excursions; the toil sweetened the pleasure, the
danger spiced it, and they were much gratified with their lofty journey.
To the east of Snæfell Jokull, we sailed by Stapi, a small town near
some famous basaltic cliffs, on the coast. Immense perpendicular
columns, and many thrown down, give the coast much the appearance of the
vicinity of the Giant’s Causeway, and the island of Staffa. The coast
here is more varied, and the scenery more magnificent, than the north of
Ireland; but there is no cave yet discovered that will vie with the
famed one of Fingal’s. Some of the pillars here at Stapi are near eight
feet in diameter, and all of them of the regular geometrical shape so
often seen in basaltic rocks. They are like the cells in honeycombs, but
solid, and generally hexagonal, but sometimes heptagons and pentagons.
Though the time when these basalts were in a state of fusion is very
remote, yet there is no doubt of their volcanic character. If geologists
and mineralogists wish to see volcanic matter in every variety of form,
let them come to Iceland.

We passed by the Meal Sack and the Grenadier Islands, the first day, and
rounded the long nose of Cape Reykjanes, and the second found us driving
before a southwest wind; due east, along the south coast of Iceland. We
sailed near the Westmann Islands, and plainly in sight of the lofty
summits of Hekla, Torfa, Eyjafjalla, and Tindfjalla Jokulls. The most
singular curiosity on the south coast of Iceland, that can be seen from
the sea, is a group of rocks that I should call _The Needles_, from
their great resemblance to the “Needles” of the Isle of Wight. They are
near a little fishing village called Dyarholar, or “Portland.” The rocks
are shaped a little more like bodkins than needles, and some of them
rear their pointed heads near a hundred feet high. They all stand in the
ocean, some of them over a mile from land. As we sailed east, the craggy
summit of the Oræfa Jokull showed his lofty and chilly head. The sides,
too, were visible as well as the summit, and perpendicular rocks and
dark-looking caverns showed the foot-prints of mighty convulsions of
nature. The Oræfa Jokull, forming part of that immense mountain known as
Skaptar Jokull, is, as I have mentioned before, the highest in Iceland.
By trigonometrical measurement, it is 6,760 feet high. Snæfell Jokull is
6,000 feet; Eyjafjalla Jokull, 5,900; and Hekla, 5,700. The Thiorsá
river, a stream larger than the Hudson or the Rhine, rises high up on
the side of Skaptar Jokull, 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, and
in a deep cañon in the lava, pours its resistless torrent down into the
ocean. Its rapid and turbulent current may be imagined. These mountains
in the interior of the country, the volcanic islands out at sea, the
rapid and powerful rivers, the Geysers, and innumerable hot springs,
along with the magnificent coast scenery, form the most prominent
physical features of Iceland.

For two days we were skirting the island on the south coast. This, and
the eastern part of Iceland, has few harbors. The coast is, much of it,
low and sandy, and difficult of approach. Some years since, a French
vessel was wrecked here in the winter season, and the crew cast ashore,
perfectly destitute. A few poor Icelanders that lived in the vicinity,
carried them to their huts, fed and took care of them, and gave them
shelter till spring. The next summer, on the annual return of the French
war-vessel that visits Iceland, the sailors were taken home; and king
Louis Philippe ordered a handsome compensation and reward in money, to
the Icelanders who had so hospitably protected his shipwrecked sailors.
They, however, did not wish it; said they had only done their duty, and
neither wanted nor deserved compensation; and steadily refused to accept
a single penny. Determined to do something in return for their kindness,
Louis Philippe ordered his representative in Iceland to state that he
would educate at the University of France, four young Icelanders; and
the Governor, the Bishop, and the President of the College, made choice
of the young men who were to be recipients of the favor. At the end of
their term—four years—as many more were selected; and thus the French
government undertook the constant care and expense of the education of
four Iceland boys, who were appointed for their ability, diligence, and
good conduct, to receive the bounty of the French government; and all
for an act of humanity towards a crew of shipwrecked sailors. The whole
transaction reflects the highest honor on all concerned. One of the
young gentlemen who was a recipient of this privilege, was a son of my
friend Mr. Sivertsen. After the French war-vessel, the unfortunate
LILLOISE, was lost, or failed to return from the Arctic sea, in
connection with one of the expeditions that went in search of her, there
was a scientific corps—a “Scandinavian Commission”—organized, of learned
men from France, Denmark, and Iceland, to gather information, make
drawings of landscapes, and collect specimens of mineralogy, botany, and
the various branches of natural history. The commission was headed by M.
Paul Geimar, and our young Icelander was one of the party. The results
of the expedition, in a scientific point of view, were of the highest
value. A work was published, containing several folio volumes of plates,
many of them colored, and the Journal of the Expedition, in six octavos;
and altogether it forms the most valuable work of the kind extant. It
comprises Iceland, Greenland, Lapland, and Spitzbergen; and nothing,
either of a geographical, scientific, or historical nature has been
omitted. Along with portraits of Geimar and others of the Commission, is
a “counterfeit presentment” of young Sivertsen; and his is one of the
finest faces ever delineated. It has the lively, intelligent
countenance, lofty brow, and beaming eye of the Anglo-Saxons, and equal
to the finest specimens of the Caucasian race in any part of the world.
This promising young man died in France, a few years after his return
from the North, universally esteemed by all, and by none more than by
Louis Philippe himself.

But the winds are drifting us lazily to the eastward. We sailed north of
Faroe, and saw the cliffs of the lofty Stromoe towering upwards like the
ruins of some gigantic temple. The return voyage was all beautiful
September weather. Our passengers—except the bachelor of the present
writing—consisted of twelve young Iceland ladies, and a small lad; and
we had a regular “jolly” time. Several of the young ladies were singers,
and two of them had guitars. Nearly every afternoon we had a dance. The
young ladies made fast progress in English—and Yankee—manners, customs,
language, _and_ dancing. I also got well posted up in Icelandic,
particularly in the sentimental,—or, as Sam Weller would say, in the
more “tenderer vords.” Guitar music, Iceland hymns, the violin, and
“threading the dance” on a rocking deck, were all matters of every-day
occurrence. Did I say every day? Not with me. But the master of the
Sölöven, Captain Heinrich Stilhoff, was certainly the most reckless,
irreligious man for a sea-captain, that ever I saw in my life. Had a
sober traveler come alongside of us on Sunday, he would have been
bothered to have found out what kind of worship we had aboard. His
reflections would probably have been like old Lambro’s, when he
returned, from his piratical cruise, to his island and his daughter.
Suppose such a one in his yacht had come up with us:

           A Christian he, and as our ship he nears,
             He looks aboard, and finds no signs of idling,
           He hears—alas! no music of the spheres,
             But an unhallowed, earthly sound of fiddling!
           A melody which makes him doubt his ears,
             The cause being past his guessing or unriddling:
           But, lo! it is the sailors all a prancing,
           The women, too, and Captain Stilhoff, dancing!

It does not speak well for the Danish people and nation, that their
mail-ship, the only government vessel running between Denmark and
Iceland, is commanded by a man of the character of Captain Stilhoff; and
I cannot think it will long continue so. Commanding a vessel carrying
the Government dispatches, and having the most popular and direct
passenger traffic between the two countries, a profligate who openly
boasts of debauching his female passengers, defenseless women, the
sisters and daughters of the citizens of both countries; a state of
things that certainly does not reflect any honor on the proprietors of
the vessel, or show much sagacity in their choice of a commander.

On, on, goes our little bark; the northern shore

                  “Fades o’er the waters blue;
                The night winds sigh, the breakers roar,
                  And shrieks the wild sea-mew.”

Old Norway’s coast appears, and we are several days in sight of the
brown and snowy mountains, and little villages of wooden houses. The
thirteenth day, we passed Cape Lindesness, and Christiansand. We were
then within two hundred and fifty miles of Copenhagen—only a few hours’
voyage for a steamship; but we had no steam a-board, except what might
be found in certain kettles and casks, and these did not aid our
progress much. I thought two days, at farthest would suffice for the
rest of our voyage; but Boreas was not in the ascendant, nor any of his
brethren either, much, for we had very little wind from any quarter. The
current in the Skager Rack took us outwardly about two miles an hour,
and the wind was southeasterly, and we were bound in. One tack would
throw us near the coast of Norway, and the next brought us along the
low, flat sands of Jutland. We progressed from twenty-five to fifty
miles a day. Several huge steamers boomed past us, with their black
sides, and volumes of smoke, and swift progress. Some of them were bound
into the Baltic, and some out, and some to Norwegian ports. At last we
rounded the Skagen Horn, and entered the Cattegat. Finally, the towers
of Elsinore Castle appeared; and, a breeze springing up from the north,
we dropped anchor before Copenhagen, the twentieth day after leaving
Iceland; and, in a most terrible rain—so anxious were we to tread the
land again—all the passengers were set on the quay, and found lodgings
amid the turmoil of a great city.

                             GENERAL INDEX.

 Adam of Bremen, page 41.

 Ætna, 142, 151.

 Agriculture in Iceland, 178, 303.

 Almannagjá, 73.

 Althing, or Iceland Congress, 42, 45, 78.

 Althing, Journal of, 296.

 America discovered by the Northmen, 36.

 Angelica Archangelica, 125.

 Angling, 78.

 Annexation of an island to Denmark, 148.

 Apavatn Lake, 97.

 Arbrandsá river, 115.

 Arnason, Jon, Librarian of Public Library, 309.

 Atmosphere, its transparency, 141.

 Barrow, the English traveler, 206.

 Bath in the Geyser, 111.

 Beard a protection against the elements, 121.

 Beards worn in Iceland, 60.

 Beards worn by the gods, 249.

 Bessastath, 63.

 Biarni Heriulfson, the First Discoverer of America, 63.

 Birds—the curlew, 169;
   cormorant, 223;
   eider-duck, 219;
   western eider, 221;
   fulmar, 168;
   gannet, or solan goose, 31, 224;
   Iceland gull, 228;
   skua gull, 228;
   jer-falcon, 230;
   white owl, 229;
   penguin, 222;
   plover, 169;
   pochard, 118;
   ptarmigan, 90;
   puffin, 163, 168;
   ravens, 114, 170;
   sea-fowl on the Westmann Islands, 163;
   on the coast of Iceland, 198;
   snow-birds, 226;
   tern, or sea-swallow, 107, 198.

 Bjarnarfell mountain, 112.

 Bjolfell mountain, 141, 145.

 Blacksmithing, 89.

 Blue berry, the only fruit in Iceland, 157.

 Books published in Iceland, 295.

 Bræthratunga church, 119.

 Brandy, use of it in Iceland, 180.

 Breithifjorth, 313.

 Briem, Rev. Johan, 123.

 Brinjulfsson, Gisli, 311.

 Bruará or Bridge River, 97.

 Bruce’s Address, in Icelandic and English, 286-7.

 Brydone, 93, 135.

 Caraway growing spontaneously in Iceland, 125.

 Cathedral worship in Reykjavik, 306.

 Cattegat, 17, 21, 22, 320.

 Cave in a hill, 96.

 Cave of Surtshellir, 109, 243, note.

 Christianity introduced into Iceland, 82.

 Christiansand, 23, 319.

 Churchyards and burial customs, 178.

 Clays, beautifully colored, 102, 191, 200, 208.

 College at Reykjavik, 57.

 Columbus, his visit to Iceland, 39.

 Copenhagen, 17, 320.

 Craters of Hekla, 138, 143.

 Dancing on ship-board, 317.

 Danish laws in Iceland, 298.

 Danish merchants in Reykjavik, 306.

 Dining on Mount Hekla, 140.

 Diseases in Iceland, 305.

 Domestic animals of Iceland, 55.

 Domestic labor of the Icelanders, 58, 293.

 Eddas, poems of the early Icelanders, 271.

 Edda, the Elder; ascribed to Sæmund Frode, 271.

 Edda, the Younger; ascribed to Snorri Sturlason, 272.

 Egilson, Sweinborn, 52, 308.

 Eider-down beds, 127, 218.

 Elsinore castle and town, 17, 22, 320.

 Eric the Red, 35.

 Ericsson, descendant of Eric the Red, 36.

 Exports of Iceland, 56, 298.

 Eyjafjalla Jokull, 142, 151, 160, 315.

 Farming in Iceland, 179, 182, 303.

 Farming tools, 117.

 Faroe Isles, 24, 25, 233.

 Feasts, in old times, 59.

 Ferryman on the Hvitá river, 185.

 Fish, Iceland method of curing, 215.

 Fishing season in Iceland, 116.

 Fish lake, its disappearance, 152.

 Finn Magnusen, 37.

 Finnsen, William, Treasurer of Iceland, 28.

 Floki, a pirate, 170.

 Flower on Mount Hekla, 136.

 Flowers on a desert island, 121.

 Fourth of July at sea, 23, 24.

 Franklin’s Story of a Whistle, in Icelandic, 289.

 French officers traveling in Iceland, 66, 70, 76, 84.

 French vessel wrecked in Iceland, 315.

 Game in Iceland, 55, 56, 90, 169, 170.

 Gardar Swarfarson, 35.

 Garden vegetables, 62, 179.

 Geimar’s Iceland, Greenland, and Spitzbergen, 317.

 Geographical names and terms, 85.

 Geyser, Eruptions of, 105.

 Geyser, its appearance when still, 100.

 Gissur Thorvaldsen, son-in-law of Snorri Sturlason, 274.

 Graba, a Danish traveler in Faroe, 236.

 Greenland, discovery of, 35.

 Grenadier island, 31, 314.

 Grænavatn, or Green Lake, 142, 201.

 Gudmundsen, Thomas, 175.

 Hacon, King of Norway, 274.

 Hafnarfiorth, 63, 213, 215.

 Hávamál, an Eddaic Poem, 275.

 Haying season, 303.

 Heath, 157, 158, 159.

 Heimskringla, 275.

 Hjalli, 195.

 Hekla, ascent of, 132.
   Catalogue of its eruptions, 153.
   its height, 315.
   its last eruption, in 1845, 134, 138.
   seen from a distance, 95, 115, 128, 161, 314.
   View from the summit, 140, 151.

 Helsingborg, 21.

 Herdisa, wife of Snorri Sturlason, 273.

 Hlitharvatn, 198.

 Holland, Dr. 135, 297.

 “Horrible Lava,” 211.

 Horses in Iceland, 65, 116, 129, 298.

 Hospitality of the Icelanders, 197.

 Hot Springs, 187.

 Hraungerthi, 177.

 Hruni, and its hospitable clergyman, 122.

 Hunting sea-fowl in the Westmann islands, 163.

 Hvitá or White river, 118, 119, 185.

 Iceland, its discovery and settlement, 35.
   its situation and extent, 48.
   Hymn, Jacob weeping over Rachel, 288.
   Newspaper, quotation from, 291.
   Youths educated in France, 316.

 Icelander in the Wars of Napoleon, 293.

 Icelandic language, 270.

 Icelandic poetry, its peculiar construction, 282.

 Imports of Iceland, 56.

 Indians in America in battle with the Icelanders, 38.

 Ingolf, plants the first settlement in Iceland, 35.

 Islands, Sandey and Nesey, in Thingvalla Lake, 92.

 Johnson, Bjarni, President of the Iceland college at Reykjavik, 63, 66,
    74, 77, 217.
   Bjarni, letters from, 300, 307, 309.
   Misses, 308, 311.
   Mr. of Hafnarfiorth, 63, 213.

 Jonson, Rev. at Vogsósar, 196.

 Kirkubær, 139.

 Krisuvik, 200.

 Ladies riding on horseback, 91, 215.

 Laugardalr, or Vale of Warm Springs, 94.

 Laugarfjall mountain, 112.

 Laugman, or administrator of the laws, 42.

 Lava, 93, 126, 211.

 Lava from eruption of Mount Hekla, 134, 146.

 Laxá, or Salmon river, 68, 124.

 Lilloise, French vessel lost in the Arctic Sea, 316.

 Lindesness, Cape, 319.

 Literature of Iceland, 52, 270, 281.

 Louis Philippe’s liberality to the Icelanders, 316.

 Markarfliot river, 161.

 Marsh, Hon. Geo. P., opinion of the Icelandic language, 292.

 Meadows in Iceland, 115, 116, 125.

 Meal Sack island, 31, 314.

 Milton’s Paradise Lost, translated by Thorlakson, 53;
   extracts from, 283.

 Mud Geyser, 206.

 Myggeness island, 236.

 Mythology of the Scandinavians, 242.
   Index to, 331.

 Myvatn, 203.

 Needles, the, 314.

 Newspapers in Iceland, 296.

 Newspaper, quotation from, 291.

 Næfrholt, 129, 159.

 Norðurfari, 312.

 Norway, coast of, 23, 319.

 Norwegian collectors in Faroe, 240.

 Ornithology of Iceland, 218, 226.

 Petrifactions, 191.

 Pfeiffer, Madam, 95, 123, 161.

 Philmore, Mr., an English traveler, 210.

 Plum-pudding Stone, 199.

 Pope’s Essay on Man, in Icelandic, 53.
   Quotation from, 285.

 Portland, or Dyarholar, 315.

 Postal arrangements in Iceland, 56.

 Post-ship, time of sailing, 56.

 Products of Iceland, 55, 56, 295, 298.

 Ranthrys, Mr., 308.

 Reindeer in Iceland, 55, 170.

 Reykir Springs, 187.

 Reykjaness Cape, 31, 314.

 Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland, 32, 306.

 River of fire, 149.

 Rolling stones down hill, 130.

 Roses in Iceland, 157.

 Sæmund Frode, 271.

 Sagas, historical writings of the Icelanders, 271.

 Scandinavian Commission, 316.

 Scythes used by the Icelanders, 115, 305.

 Sharks, 26.

 Ship from Iceland; the “Saga,” 302.

 Sivertsen, the Misses, and Mr., 308, 311.

 Sivertsen, Mr., jun., 316, 317.

 Skagen Horn, 320.

 Skager Rack, 319.

 Skalds or Minstrels, 42.

 Skalholt, 44, 172.

 Skaptar Jokull, 115, 147, 151.
   Great eruption of, 147.

 Skarth, 127, 159.

 Sleeping in a church, 127.

 Snæfell Jokull, 151, 313.

 Snorri Thorfinson, first European born in America, 37.

 Snow on Mount Hekla, 137, 146.

 Spallanzani, 135.

 Stapi and basaltic cliffs, 314.

 Steam jet in the Sulphur Mountains, 205.

 Steam power without fuel, 205, 208.

 Stifftamptman, 45.

 Stilhoff, Captain, 318.

 Strandar Kirkja, 197.

 Strokr or New Geyser, 104, 108.

 Submarine eruption, 147.

 Sulphur Mountains, 200-208.

 Superstition among the Northmen, 195.

 Surtshellir cave, 109, 243, note.

 Sveinson, Jon, 309.

 Swein Ethrithson, 41.

 Swimming a river, 119.

 Sysselman, a merry one, 173.

 Thingvalla, 43, 73, 78.

 Thingvalla Lake, 72.

 Thiorsá river, 115, 126, 159, 172, 315.

 Thorarensen, Rev. S., 177.

 Thorarensen, Stefan, 178, 185.

 Thorlakson, Jon, the Iceland Poet, 53, 281.

 Thorlakson’s Translation of Milton and Pope, 282.

 Thorwaldsen, 37, 52.

 Tindfjalla Jokull, 142, 151, 160, 314.

 Tin Tron, an exhausted crater, 94.

 Torfa Jokull, 314.

 Trade of Iceland; probable results of opening it to the world, 299,
    302.

 Trollekone-finger, or Witch’s-finger, in Faroe, 236.

 Trout-fishing in Iceland, 74, 76.

 Vestri Rangá river, 129.

 Vesuvius, 142, 151.

 Vinland, the name given to America by the Icelanders, 37.

 Vogelberg chasm, in Faroe, 237.

 Vogsósar, 196.

 Volcanic island rising from the sea, 147.

 Volcanic sand, 135, 199.

 Voluspá, the song of the Prophetess, 275.

 Westmann Islands, 141, 161, 165, 166.

 Whales, 25, 26.

                                 INDEX

                                 TO THE

                        Scandinavian Mythology.

 Ægir, the deity of the ocean;
   a Jötun, 249, 258.

 Æsir, the gods of the Scandinavians, 242, 246, 265.

 Afi, grandfather, and Ammi, grandmother, and their descendants, 268.

 Ai, great grandfather, and Edda, great grandmother, and their
    descendants, 268.

 Annar, husband of Night, and father of Jörd, 254.

 Arvak and Alsvid, the horses of Sol, 255.

 Asgard, the city of the Æsir, or home of the gods, 246.

 Ask and Embla, the first man and first woman, 268.

 Audhumla, the cow on whose milk Ymir subsisted, 243.

 Baldur the Good, son of Odin, 248, 266.
   his death, 263.

 Beli, a giant, slain by Frey, 250.

 Bergelmie, a frost-giant, 244.

 Besla, wife of Bör, 243.

 Bifröst the Rainbow, a bridge from earth to heaven, 246.

 Bilskirnir, the mansion of Thor, 248.

 Bör, father of Odin, Vili, and Ve, 243.

 Bragi, the god of Poetry, son of Odin, 249.

 Breidablik, the mansion of Baldur, 248.

 Bur, the father of Bör, 243.

 Castes, or classes in Scandinavian society, 269.

 Day, son of Night and Delling, 254.

 Dwarfs, 253.

 Eir, presides over the art of healing, 252.

 Embla, the first woman, 268.

 Elvidnir, the hall of Hela, 256.

 Fenrir, a wolf, offspring of Loki, 255, 265.

 Fensalir, the mansion of Friga, 252.

 Forseti, the god of Justice, 249.

 Freki and Geri, Odin’s wolves, 246.

 Frey, the son of Njörd and Skadi, 250.

 Frey in battle with Surtur, 265.

 Freyja, daughter of Njörd, and wife of Odur, 250, 252.

 Friga, wife of Odin, 247, 252.

 Fulla, a maid, attendant of Friga, 252.

 Garm, a dog that kills Tyr, 266.

 Gefjon, a maid, attendant of Friga, 252.

 Gerda, one of the most beautiful of women, 250.

 Geri and Freki, wolves of Odin, 246.

 Ginnungagap, the space between the upper and lower worlds, 243.

 Gjallar-horn, the trumpet of Heimdal, 251, 265.

 Gladsheim, Odin’s hall of Justice, 258.

 Gleipnir, a fetter, 255.

 Glitnir, the mansion of Forseti, 249.

 Gna, messenger of Friga, 253.

 Golden Age, 258.

 Gulltopp, the horse of Heimdall, 251.

 Hati and Sköll, two wolves, 255.

 Heimdall, the sentry of the gods, 251, 265, 266.

 Hel or Helheim, the abode of Death, 256-258.

 Hela, or Death, 255, 256.

 Hermod the Nimble, son of Odin, 246, 263.

 Hlidskjalf, Odin’s throne, 246.

 Hnossa, daughter of Odur and Freyja, 252.

 Hodmimir’s forest, where Lif is concealed, 266.

 Hödur, a blind deity, 251, 263, 266.

 Hófvarpnir, the horse of Gna, 253.

 Hrimfaxi, the horse of Night, 254.

 Hringhorn, the ship of Baldur, 263.

 Hugin and Munin, Odin’s ravens, 246.

 Hvergelmir, a fountain in Niflheim, 243, 245.

 Hymir, a giant, 259.

 Hyrrokin, a giantess of Jötunheim, 264.

 Ida, a plain where Asgard formerly stood, 266.

 Iduna, the goddess of Eternal Youth, 249.

 Jötunheim, or land of giants, 245.

 Jötuns, giants of Jötunheim, 245.

 Lif a woman, and Lifthrasir a man, who survive the destruction of the
    world, 266.

 Lofna, the friend of Lovers, 252.

 Loki, the god of all evil, 255, 259, 263, 265, 266.

 Magni and Modi, sons of Thor, 248, 252, 266.

 Manheim, the home of man, 247, 268.

 Máni, the Moon, 254.

 Midgard, or Mid-earth, 244, 247.

 Midgard serpent, 255, 256, 265.

 Mimir and Mimir’s Well, 245.

 Mjölnir, Thor’s Mallet, 247.

 Modi and Magni, sons of Thor, 248, 252, 266.

 Munin or Memory, one of Odin’s ravens, 246.

 Muspell or Muspelheim, the upper world, 242.

 Mythology of the Northmen, 242.

 Nanna, wife of Baldur, 249, 264.

 Nidhogg, a dragon, 245.

 Niflheim, the lower world, 242.

 Night, the daughter of Njörvi, 254.

 Njord, the ruler of the sea, 250.

 Njörvi, a giant, father of Night, 254.

 Norns, inferior deities, 253.

 ODIN, the supreme head, leader of the Æsir, and father of all the gods,
    170, 244, 245, 246, 247, 266.

 Ragnarök, the end of all things, 256, 265.

 Ran, wife of Ægir, 249.

 Ratatösk, the squirrel on the Ash, 245.

 Rinda, the mother of Vali, 251.

 Roskva the Quick, attendant of Thor, 248, 259.

 Saga, the goddess of history, 252.

 Skadi, the wife of Njord, 250.

 Skidbladnir, a famous ship belonging to Frey, 266-7.

 Skinfaxi, the horse of Day, 254.

 Skirnir, messenger of Frey, 250.

 Sköll and Hati, wolves that pursue the sun and moon, 255.

 Sleipnir, the horse of Odin, 246.

 Sokkvabek, the house of Saga, 252.

 Sol, the source of light, 254.

 Surtur, chief of the chaotic demons, 242, 265.

 Surturbrand, or fire of Surtur, 109, 242, note.

 Thjálfi, the Nimble, attendant of Thor, 248, 259.

 Thor, son of Odin, the god of Thunder, 128, 247.

 Thor encounters the Midgard serpent, 262-265, 266.

 Thor’s adventures in Jötunheim, 258, 259, 260, 261.

 Thrudvang, the home of Thor, 248.

 Tyr, the god of Bravery, 255, 259.

 Ullur, the archer, son of Sif, 251.

 Utgard, a city in Jötunheim, 260.

 Utgard-Loki, King of Utgard, 260.

 Valaskjalf, the mansion of Odin, 246.

 Valhalla, the home or world of the slain, 253, 256, 257, 258.

 Vali, son of Odin and Rinda, 251, 252, 266.

 Valkyrjor, the goddesses of Valhalla, 253.

 Vidar the Silent, son of Odin, 251, 252, 266.

 Vigrid, the last battlefield of the gods, 265.

 Vili and Ve, sons of Bör, 244.

 Vora, the punisher of perjured lovers, 252.

 Yggdrasill, the Ash tree, 245.

 Ymir, progenitor of the Frost-giants, 243, 244.

Transcriber’s note:

    Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation have been retained, but
    obvious typographical errors have been corrected. However,
    spellings of Icelandic words have been silently regularised, if
    inconsistent within the text.

    The cover has been created by the transcriber and is placed in the
    public domain.