But Odin and Jupiter could count upon more efficient and more reliable allies in the gods of Finland.

The gods bear almost always the impress of the character of their followers and of those over whom they rule, and what other nation has ever given such proofs of undaunted courage as the Finns or Finlanders? Pirates on the Baltic, as the Scandinavians were pirates on the ocean, they shared with them the booty that could be gotten in all the Northern seas. They had originally come from the high table-lands of Asia, together with their brethren the Turks, the Mongols, and the Tartars; their first appearance was made under the name of Ugorians, Ogres, and surely the Ogres have made a lasting and a terrible impression on bur popular tales!

The Finns consisted almost exclusively of sailors and soldiers, of miners and blacksmiths. To smelt iron and to fashion it into anchors for their ships, into lances, swords, and spears, was their principal occupation. Hence they paid special reverence to Rauta-Rekhi, the personification of iron; to Wulangoinen, the father of iron, and to Ruojuota, the nurse of iron. They worshipped in like manner with special zeal three sombre virgins, whose powerful breasts were running over with a dark milk, which turned into iron as it cooled off, as water turns into ice when it cools off.

Their principal gods, besides these whom I have mentioned, were again three, and, as usual, three brothers.

The oldest, Vainamoinen, of hoary age, created celestial and terrestial fire, that is to say, the sun and the volcanoes.

The second, Ukko, has to provide them with fire, so as to prevent the earth from returning to the condition of an immense icicle, and the sun to the form of a heap of extinct embers. Living in the clouds he now blows upon the sun and now upon the volcanoes so as to keep up the blaze in both, and encourages them with his voice, the thunder.

Ilmarinnen, the third, a very industrious and most skillful workman, has forged the earth and the seven heavens by which it is surrounded; hence he is called the Eternal Blacksmith. He spends his life at the forge, making sometimes stars of all sizes and at other times spare moons. He has even made a silver woman, not for himself, however, but for a younger brother, whose manifold and incessant occupations left him no time to take the necessary steps for a suitable marriage. This woman of fine metal, well-made, beautiful, charming, and of the sweetest disposition, had but one single defect,—no one could come near her without being chilled to the marrow of his bones.

However, the most skillful blacksmith cannot be expected to make a perfect woman at the first trial.

When the question of his own marriage was mooted, Ilmarinnen preferred taking a ready made wife, and, according to the usage which prevailed among the Finns as well as among the Germans, he bought one.

For the sake of enjoying some relief after such a long enumeration of deities, now entirely out of fashion, I feel strongly tempted to insert here a saga, a Finnish legend, which treats of this very marriage of Ilmarinnen, the blacksmith, and was composed by his own sister. In this wedding-song, which is full of the sweetest and chastest sentiments, she exhibits the domestic life of these artisan-gods, who sometimes were disposed to beat their wives,—at least the saga suggests the occurrence of such events.