THE TWO EDDAS, THE ELDER AND THE YOUNGER, THE POETIC AND THE PROSE.—CONTENTS OF THE FORMER.—DIVISION INTO CLASSES. 1. THE MYSTICAL. 2. THE MYTHIC-DIDACTIC. 3. THE PURELY MYTHOLOGICAL. 4. THE MYTHIC-HISTORICAL.—POEMS OF EACH CLASS.—THE PROSE EDDA.—SNORRO STURLESON.
The religion of the ancient Northmen—which, though it has many points of affinity with other religions, has yet a sufficient number of its own peculiarities to constitute it a distinct system—has been always admitted to be a most interesting and most curious subject of inquiry, not merely in the north of Europe, but in England, in Germany, and in France. Yet until the last few years, the popular notions concerning it were vague and inaccurate; and for the best of all reasons—that, of the two sources from which alone a full knowledge of it could be acquired, the one had been carelessly, the other partially published.
The two works to which we allude are the two Eddas, the Elder and the Younger; the former attributed to Sæmund, the other to Snorro, the son of Sturlo, both Icelanders and both Christians,—the one born in the eleventh, the other in the twelfth century.
Sæmund, who, from his varied knowledge, is styled hin Frode, or the Learned, and by posterity at least was regarded as a wizard, had greater advantages of education than we should have expected in an Icelander of that remote period. He studied, we are told, both in France and Germany, and is supposed to have visited Rome. On his return he settled at Oddé, in the northern part of the island, embraced holy orders, and was entrusted with the cure of souls. Much of his time, however, was devoted to the education of youth, and to literary pursuits. Whether, as Christianity had not long been established in that remote island, he was still in some degree influenced by the lingering spirit of paganism, or whether (a more probable supposition) a taste superior to the age in which he lived led him to preserve, instead of destroying, the remaining monuments of paganism, we are indebted to him for one of the most curious books that has ever occupied the attention of the human mind. This was the Elder Edda, the first part of which was published for the first time in 1787. The second part did not issue from the press until 1818, nor the third until 1828. No writer, therefore, prior to these years, could have any just notice of this venerable collection of pieces, or, consequently, of the religion which they illustrate. To the advantage furnished to the modern student by their publication must be added the vast erudition of Finn Magnusen, editor of the third or last part, whose Mythological Lexicon and Critical Dissertations (especially the one elaborately devoted to “the Edda Doctrine and its Origin”) have not only exhausted the subject, but pointed out many of the affinities between the Scandinavian religion and that of the most celebrated nations both in ancient and modern times.
The Elder, or Poetic Edda, consists of about forty poems,—all anonymous, all, with one exception, pagan compositions, though written at different periods, the most recent of them bearing the impress of considerable antiquity. They have been arranged, perhaps somewhat arbitrarily, into four different classes, according to the nature of the subjects. These are—1. the Mystical; 2. the Mythic-didactic; 3. the purely Mythological; and 4. the Mythic-historical.
1. Of the Mystical class, the most prominent is the Voluspa (Voluspa), the oracle of Vala the prophetess. This contains a rapid, abrupt, and very dark account of the whole system, beginning with the creation, and ending with the destruction of the universe by fire. All things, however, are not to be destroyed: two individuals, a man and a woman, are to be saved, and made the progenitors of a new and fairer world. It should be observed, that in the Scandinavian as in the Greek and Roman superstition, superior sanctity is ascribed to the women. They alone knew the fates; even Odin had to consult them when he wished to look beyond the dark cloud that concealed the future from the gods no less than from mankind.
The Grougaldor, or the magical song of Groa, is another of this class. It consists of terms and precepts, the use of which is to produce the most astounding supernatural effects. These “words of might” were not peculiar to the Odinic worship. They pervade still more thoroughly that which Zoroaster instituted, between whom and the northern prophet there are more points of resemblance than the learned have yet discerned. Both, for example, pretended to magical powers, because both found the pretension already in existence when they entered on their respective careers; and neither was willing to be thought inferior to the members of the priestly caste which he undertook to subvert. The magic of the Finns and Lets Odin stigmatized as black magic—as inculcated by the powers of darkness for the injury of mankind; but his was the white, the pure magic, the kingly art. He found a school already established in the north; and with all his power he could not wholly extirpate it. There seems, indeed, reason to infer that he connived at the union of many native rites with his own; or, at least, that if he did not, his immediate successors did. Just so it was with the renowned Magian. In contemplating the origin of his religion, we may either smile, or be provoked, at the prodigies which every where meet us. It is a religion of magic; it boasts of supernatural powers; it openly owns not merely the possibility, but the necessity, of miraculous results, when the words of might which it prescribes are duly pronounced. And if miracles and prodigies constitute its peculiar character even at this day, in the comparatively civilised Hindostan, they were doubly necessary when Zoroaster first announced it to the world. To them he boldly appealed for the truth of his mission. The miracles which preceded, those which accompanied, his birth, may be seen in the elaborate account of him prefixed by Anquetil du Perron to his translation of the Zendavesta. Throughout his life, if any faith is to be placed in his biographers, he wrought, or pretended to work, miracles by his magical terms. Yet he exceeded even Odin in the zeal with which he inveighed against the magic of his rivals. Against the magicians his most terrible anathemas were hurled; against them he waged a war of extermination, and justified the hostility by alleging the express command of heaven. But they were the servants of Ahriman, the irreconcilable enemies of Ormuzd—of every thing that is good—of every thing that issues from the benevolent deity. In their hands, magic was sure to become an instrument of evil; but in those of himself and his disciples, it could not fail to be an instrument of happiness. In the former case it must be fatal, in the latter highly useful, to human nature: hence the necessity of destroying in the one case that which should be piously maintained in the other. Such, too, was the conduct of Odin. There was, however, this difference between the two legislators: while the Median regarded women as absolutely impure, and confided the celebration of all his rites, magical or religious, to the men; the Scythian paid peculiar honour to the sex: women were allowed, enjoined, to perform the most solemn, the most awful, ceremonies of the new faith. Yet the men were not excluded from the privilege. There were colleges or fraternities of wizards from the earliest known periods of Scandinavian history, down to the time of Harald Harfager, or even later still. Rognevald, a son of that monarch, was burned to death, with eighty of his associates, on the charge of exercising a magic condemned by Odin, and emanating from the evil powers.
The Solar Liod, or Song of the Sun, is almost wholly the composition of Sæmund. But then he derived his materials from ancient pagan times.
2. Of the mytho-didactic poems, the first place may well be assigned to the Vafthrudnis-mâl. It is, like many of the other Odinic pieces, in the form of a dialogue. Odin expresses his resolution to visit Vafthrudnir, a famous giant or genius, and of contending with him in science. Frigga, his queen, “to whom the future is known,” attempts to dissuade him from the journey, because “no one of the genii is to be compared with Vafthrudnir in wisdom and valour.” If Odin should be vanquished in the contest, he must perish, and with him all the gods who were dependent on him. But he persists, assumes the disguise of a weary traveller, and proceeds to the palace of the sage giant. On this poem, however, we shall not further dilate, as a translation of it may be found in a volume of the present collection.[[16]] This contest between the chief of the gods and the giant is derived from the same source as the war of the Titans with Jove.
Grimnis-mâl, or Grimner’s Song, is another of the mytho-didactic class. Grimner is no other than Odin, who has assumed the disguise of an aged minstrel, for a purpose explained by the Icelandic introduction to the poem. King Rodung had two sons, the one eight, the other ten years of age. One day they embarked in a boat to pass some hours in fishing. A storm arising, they were driven into an unknown sea, and cast upon a strange coast. Approaching a hut, they were hospitably received by the master and mistress, who seemed to be a rustic pair, but who in reality were Odin and Frigga. Agner, the elder, was the favourite of the latter, Geirrod, the younger, of the former. In the hut they remained the whole winter; and when spring arrived, they were led to the sea-coast, and embarked in a new vessel which their hosts presented to them. When bidding adieu, the male rustic whispered something into Geirrod’s ear. The purport of this secret may be inferred from the conduct of the prince just as he reached land. As he leaped on shore, he pushed the boat away, exclaiming to his brother Agner, “Go, where the evil genii may seize thee!” Repairing to his father’s court, he found that father no more, and he was immediately proclaimed king of the country. On the other hand, Agner was among the giants or evil genii, and married to a woman of that hated race. Great, therefore, was the contrast between the fortunes of the two; and Odin one day, from the highest heaven, pointed it out in triumph to his goddess-queen. Frigga declared that Geirrod was undeserving of the good fortune; that he was a niggard who starved his dependents and guests. This the god refused to credit; and when she persisted in the charge, he assumed a mortal form to try the experiment. But what man can equal a woman, either god or goddess, in cunning? Frigga sent one of her confidential messengers to Geirrod, telling him to be on his guard against a wise magician then in his dominions, who had resolved to destroy him: that magician was to be known by this token—that no dog would bark at him. The royal command was therefore given that dogs should be set on all who approached the palace, and whomsoever they refused to assail should be brought before him. A man, covered with a blue peltz, was brought before him and questioned; but the stranger would return no other answer than that he was called Grimner. In great wrath, the king placed him between two great fires—an infallible way of discovering a wizard—and commanded that he should receive no food. There he remained eight days and eight nights, suffering from the heat and from thirst, when Agner, the son of Geirrod, a boy of ten years, took pity on him, and presented him with a full horn, observing that his father did wrong thus to punish a guiltless man. Here the piece opens: Odin exclaims that the fire is hot; and prophesies that the royal youth shall, for this service, soon hold the sceptre of the Goths. He then proceeds—somewhat oddly, only immortal beings may be privileged to say or do what they please—to describe in succession the twelve mansions of heaven. (To this description we shall afterwards advert, when we endeavour to explain the cosmogony of the Scandinavians.) He ended by declaring who he was; and that the death of Geirrod was at hand. In great fear, the king arose to release the divine speaker; but stumbling, the point of his sword entered his body, and Agner was immediately proclaimed.