boasted a power of disturbing the repose of the dead, and of dragging them out of their gloomy abodes by force of certain songs which they knew how to compose. The same ignorance, which made poetry be regarded as something supernatural, persuaded them also that the letters or Runic characters, which were then used by the few who were able to write and read, included in them certain mysterious and magical properties. Impostors then easily persuaded a credulous people that these letters, disposed and combined after a certain manner, were able to work wonders, and, in particular, to presage future events. There were letters, or Runes, to procure victory-to preserve from poison-to relieve women in labour-to cure bodily diseases to dispel evil thoughts from the mind-to dissipate melancholy-and to soften the severity of a cruel mistress. They employed pretty nearly the same characters for all these different purposes, but they varied the order and combination of the letters; they wrote them either from right to left, or from top to bottom, or in form of a circle, or contrary to the course of the sun, &c. In this principally consisted that puerile and ridiculous art, as little understood, probably, by those who professed it, as it was distrusted by those who had recourse to it.

I have already remarked that they had often no other end, in sacrificing human victims, than to know what was to happen by inspection of their entrails, by the effusion of their blood, and by the greater or less degree of celerity with which they sunk to the bottom of the water. The same motive engaged them to lend an attentive ear to the singing of birds, which some diviners boasted a power of interpreting. The ancient history of Scandinavia is as full of these superstitious practices as that of Rome itself. We see in Saxo Grammaticus, as in Livy, auguries which forebode the success of an expedition, warriors who are struck by unexpected presages, lots consulted, days regarded as favourable or unlucky, female diviners who follow the armies, showers of blood, forebodings, wonderful dreams which the event never fails to justify, and the slightest circumstances of the most important actions taken for good or bad omens. This has been, we well know, a general and inveterate disease in human nature, of which it has only begun to be cured in Europe. To recall to view a spectacle, which tends so much to mortify and humble us,

would be a labour as useless as discouraging to an historian, if the knowledge of all these practices did not make an essential part of that of manners and of the causes of events, without which there could be no history; and also if the sketch of the errors and mistakes of human reason did not convincingly prove to us the necessity of cultivating it. A person endued with natural good sense will also find, by this means, remedies proper to cure whatever remains of such weakness and credulity hang about him. It is true, one cannot always refute the marvellous and supernatural stories of ancient historians, by the bare circumstances of their relations; because, besides that it would be endless to enter continually upon such discussions, we often want the pieces necessary to enable us to make all the researches such an examination would require. But what needs there more to convince us that we have a right to reject, without exception, all facts of this kind, than to consider, on the one hand, how ignorant the vulgar are even in our days-how credulous-how easy to be imposed on; and to be even the dupes of their own fancy, greedy of the marvellous, inclined to exaggeration, and precipitant in their judgments: and, on the other hand, that among those nations, whose history appears so astonishing at present, for a long time all were vulgar, except, perhaps, a few obscure sages, whose voice was too feeble to be heard amid the clamours of so many blind and prejudiced persons? Is it not sufficient to consider further, that the age of the greatest ignorance of such nations is precisely that which has been most fruitful of oracles, divinations, prophetic dreams, apparitions, and other prodigies of that kind?-that they appear more seldom in proportion as they are less believed?and, finally, that the experience of our own times shows us, that wherever reason is brought to the greatest perfection, all things fall into the order of natural and simple events, insomuch that the lowest and meanest class of men accustom themselves to believe nothing which is not agreeable to good sense and accompanied with some probability?

But I repeat it once more, that superstition did not blind all the ancient Scandinavians without exception; and history testifies, that there were, after all, among them men wise enough to discover the folly of the received opinions, and courageous enough to condemn them without reserve. In the history of Olaf Tryggvason a warrior fears not to say

publicly, that he relies much more on his own strength and on his arms, than upon Thor or Odin. Another, in the same book, speaks thus to his friend:-" I would have thee know, that I believe neither in idols nor spirits. I have travelled in many places; I have met with giants and monstrous men: they could never overcome me; thus to this present hour my own force and courage are the sole objects of my belief." Unluckily there seems too much room to suspect that this contempt of superstition did but throw them for the most part into the opposite extreme. So true is it that we seldom are able to observe a just medium. At least, many of the northern warriors seem to have been so intoxicated with their courage as to esteem themselves independent beings, who had nothing to ask or fear from the gods. In an Icelandic chronicle, a vain-glorious person makes his boast to a Christian missionary, that he had never yet acknowledged any religion, and that his own strength and abilities were every thing to him. For the same reason, others refused to sacrifice to the gods of whom they had no need. St. Olaf, king of Norway, demanding of a warrior, who offered him his services, what religion he professed; the warrior answered, "I am neither Christian nor Pagan; my companions and I have no other religion, than the confidence in our own strength, and in the good success which always attends us in war; and we are of opinion it is all that is necessary." The same thing is related of Rolf, surnamed Kraki, king of Denmark: one day, when one of his companions proposed to offer a sacrifice to Odin, he said that he feared nothing from that blustering spirit, and that he should never stand in awe of him. But as it was not always kings who durst manifest sentiments so bold and hardy, the followers of the prevailing religion sometimes punished these irreligious perIn the life of King Olaf Tryggvason, mention is made of a man who was condemned to exile for having sung in a public place, verses, the sense of which was to this purpose, 'I will not insult or affront the gods; nevertheless, the goddess Freyja inspires me with no respect: it must certainly be that either she or Odin are chimerical deities." It is easy to conceive how much natural good sense, supported by that confidence which bodily strength inspires, could excite in those ancient warriors contempt for their mute and feeble deities, and for the childish or troublesome rites in their worship.

sons.

66

But besides this, the primitive religion, as I have already observed, in its original purity admitted only a simple and reasonable worship, and one sole, principal deity, who was invisible and almighty. One may then suppose, with a good deal of likelihood, that this religion was not by length of time so much defaced, but that some traces of it still remained in the memory of sensible persons, and in the soundest part of the nation. Indeed we see appear at intervals in ancient Scandinavia, some men of this stamp endued with a real strength of mind, who not only trampled under foot all the objects of the credulity and idle superstition of the multitude, (an effort which pride renders easy, and sometimes alone produces,) but who even raised their minds to the invisible master of every thing we see; "the father of the sun, and of all nature." In an Icelandic saga, a person named Giest says to his nephew, who is just ready to embark for Greenland*: 'I beseech and conjure him who made the sun to give success to thy undertaking." A celebrated Norwegian warrior, named Thorstein, says, speaking of his father, "He will receive upon this account a recompense from him who made the heaven and the universe, whoever he be: and, upon another occasion, he makes a vow to the same being, who made the sun," for, adds he, "his power must needs have been excessive to produce such a work." All his family entertained the same sentiments, and it is expressly noted in many places of the same saga, that it was their religion to believe in him, "who was creator of the sun." Torkill, a supreme judge of Iceland, a man of unblemished life, and distinguished among the wisest magistrates of that island during the time that it was governed in form of a republic, seeing his end draw near, ordered himself to be set in the open air, with his face turned towards the sun, and having rested there some moments in a kind of ecstasy, expired, recommending his soul to him among the gods who had created the sun and the stars t. But of all the strokes of this kind, none is more remarkable than what a modern Icelandic historian relates in his manuscript supplement to the history of Norway. Harold Hárfagra, the first

66

* Vatzdæla. apud Barthol. c. 6, lib. i. p. 83.

Arn. Jon. Crymog. lib. i. c. 6.

king of all Norway, says this author, being yet but young, held the following discourse in a popular assembly :-“ I swear and protest in the most sacred manner, that I will never offer sacrifice to any of the gods adored by the people, but to him only who hath formed this world, and every thing we behold in it." Harold lived in the middle of the ninth century, at a time when the Christian religion had not yet penetrated into Norway.

CHAPTER VII.

OF THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT WHICH FORMERLY

PREVAILED IN THE NORTH.

THE character of the ancient northern nations is, in some measure, laid open in the former book. It is the nature of every religion which is the handiwork of men, always to carry marks of the weakness of its authors, and to breathe forth the same spirit with which they themselves were animated.. Their government and laws are another faithful mirror wherein that spirit may be seen with no less advantage. It is obvious that the laws cannot long be contrary to the genius of a nation. Sooner or later they will be impressed with its character, or they will give it theirs. These are two streams very different in their sources, but which as soon as they unite in the same channel, have but one force and one direction. The importance of this subject makes it incumbent on me to treat it with some extent, and to bring together with the ut most care all the feeble and scattered rays which throw any light upon it amid the obscurity of so many dark ages.

In the first place, let us consult Tacitus, that excellent historian of ancient Germany, who in his little compendious narrative has given in a few pages a most striking picture of the inhabitants of this vast country. His words ought to be given here entire, and weighed with care. Among this people, he says, the chiefs, or princes, determine some affairs of less importance; all the rest are reserved for the

66

*De minoribus rebus Principes consultant; de majoribus Omnes. Tacit. Germ. c. 11, 12, 13, 14, &c.