The Anse-faith of the viking age seems to have been a development of an ancient form of heaven worship or possibly of sun worship, traces of which have been found in the North from the days of the stone age.[261] In time the deity came to be viewed from various angles, and each particular aspect was individualised and made the object of separate worship. Thus, apparently, arose the three great divinities, Thor, Woden, and Frey. Thor is the god of strength, the mighty defender of gods and men. His name (O. Eng. Thunor), his flaming beard, the crash of his hammer-stroke show that the Thor-conception was closely associated with early notions of thunder and lightning. Similarly, the name of Woden[262] associates his divinity with the untamed forces of nature, the fury of the tempest, the wrath of the storm. He is, therefore, the god of the battle rush, the divine force that inspires the athletic frenzy of the berserk. Thor is armed with a hammer, Woden with a spear. Thor rides in a cart drawn by rams; Woden's mount is a swift eight-footed horse. But Woden is more than a mere god of conflict; he is wise and cunning and knows the mysteries of the world. Frey is the god of fruitfulness, the sun-god as giver of life and growth. He should be worshipped by tillers of the soil.

In the course of time, new deities were admitted to the Scandinavian pantheon; some of these were no doubt developed from older conceptions; others were evidently introduced from neighbouring cults. Gradually the old, rude beliefs came to be overlaid with myths, a series of strange tales, bold, strong, and weird. Recent scholars have held that many of these were borrowed from the bulging storehouse of Christian faith and legend—the result of intellectual contact between the old races and the Norse immigrant on the Western Islands.[263] But even where this borrowing can be clearly traced, the modifying touches of the Norse imagination are clearly in evidence.

The Northern peoples also developed a system of ethics of which we have a remarkable statement in the Eddic poem, the "Song of the High One." While of a lower character than that associated with Christianity, it was, when we consider the soil from which it sprang, a remarkable growth. Candour, honesty, courage, strength, fidelity, and hospitality were enjoined and emphasised. The Northman was impressed with the fact that all things seem perishable; but he hoped that the fame of a good life would continue after death.

Cattle die, kinsmen die,
Finally dies one-self;
But never shall perish the fame of him
Who has won a good renown.
Cattle die, kinsmen die,
Finally dies one-self;
But one thing I know that always remains,
Judgment passed on the dead.[264]

But the duties toward the hostile and the weak, that Christianity strove to inculcate, the Northman did not appreciate: slavery was common; weak and unwelcome children were often exposed at birth; revenge was a sacred duty.

It is not the intention to enter upon a full discussion of Old Northern faith and morals: in the conversion of a people that had reached the particular stage of culture that the Norsemen occupied in the eleventh century, neither is of prime importance. It is doubtful whether the vikings were much interested in the intricacies of dogma, be it heathen or Christian. It also seems unlikely that Christian morals as practised at the time could have proved very attractive. In the life of Saint Olaf, for instance, there was little that we should regard as saintly, but much that was cruel, sinful, and coarse. The Celtic Church, with which the Norwegians first came into close contact, seems to have put a somewhat liberal construction on the ten commandments. The forms of worship, however, were of the first importance: in the gorgeous ritual of the mediæval Church the heathen could not fail to see a tangible excellence that his own rude worship did not possess.

The Anse-faith knew no priesthood: the various local officials were charged with the duty of performing the ancient rites, though some evidently had peculiar responsibilities in this matter. In the family the father had certain sacerdotal duties. The gods were worshipped in temples, though not exclusively so; sacred groves and fountains were also used for such purposes. Frequently, also, the great hall of a chief was dedicated to the gods and used for sacrificial feasts.[265]

Most famous of all the Old Scandinavian sanctuaries was that at Upsala in Eastern Sweden, built, we are told, by the god Frey himself. It was a large wooden structure, highly ornamented with gold. Within were rude images of the three major divinities, Thor, Woden, and Frey, with Thor's image in the chief place. Near the temple there grew, according to the account in Adam's chronicle, an exceedingly large tree that always kept its verdure, in winter as well as in summer. There was also a fountain where the victims were sometimes drowned; if the corpse did not reappear, the favour of the gods was assured. In the sacred grove about the sanctuary, the sacrificial victims were hung—horses, dogs, and other beasts, frequently also human beings. The corpses were not removed but permitted to hang from the trees. Adam reports that an eye-witness once counted seventy-two such sacrificial victims.[266]

Every ninth year the entire Swedish nation was summoned to sacrifice at Upsala. The feast was celebrated shortly before the vernal equinox and continued nine days. At least one human being was sacrificed each day. Great multitudes were in attendance—king and people all sent their offerings to Upsala. It seems, however, that Christians were released from the duty of attendance on the payment of money.[267] It is clear that the gathering had a national as well as a religious significance. Elaborate festivities were combined with the sacrifices.

Three times in the year did the Northmen gather in this manner to feast and to invoke the gods: at Yule-tide in January, at the vernal equinox, and late in the autumn. Of these gatherings the sagas speak somewhat explicitly and seem to give reliable information.