These are the grounds of Torfæus's system: and one cannot help highly applauding the diligence and sagacity of an author, who has thrown more light on the first ages of Danish history than any of his predecessors. At the same time we must confess, that there still remains much darkness and uncertainty upon this subject. For, although the annals of the Icelanders are, without contradiction, a much purer source than those which Saxo had recourse to; and although the reasons alleged by Torfæus in their favour are of some weight; many persons, after all, will hardly be persuaded that we can thence draw such exact and full information, as to form a complete and firm thread of history. For, in the first place, the Icelandic writers have left us a great number of pieces which evidently show that their taste inclined them to deal in the marvellous, in allegory, and even in that kind of narrations, in which truth is designedly blended with fable. Torfæus himself confesses that there are many of their books, in which it is difficult to distinguish truth from falsehood, and that there are scarce any of them, but what contain some degree of fiction. In following such guides there is great danger of being sometimes misled. In the second place, these annals are of no great antiquity: we have none that were written before Christianity was established in the north: therefore the compilers of the Icelandic annals found no written memoirs earlier than their own: as we have great reason to believe, then, their narratives are only founded on traditions, inscriptions, or relics of poetry.

But can one give much credit to traditions, which must have taken in so many ages, and have been preserved by a people so ignorant? Do not we see that among the common class of men, a son remembers his father, knows something of his grandfather, but never bestows a thought on his more remote progenitors? With regard to inscriptions, we have already seen what assistance they were likely to afford: we may add that there are very few of them, which were written before the introduction of Christianity into the north; and, indeed, as we shall prove in the sequel, before that time very little use was made of letters. Lastly, as for the verses or songs which were learnt by rote, it cannot be denied, but the

See his Series Dynast. et Reg. lib. i. cap. 6.

Icelandic historians might receive great information from them, concerning times not very remote from their own. But was a rough and illiterate people likely to bestow much care in preserving a great number of poems, through a succession of eight or nine centuries? Or can one expect to find in such compositions much clearness and precision? Did the poets of those rude ages observe that exactness and methodical order, which history demands? In the third place, if the Icelandic annalists could not know with certainty, what passed a long time before them in Iceland and Norway, must not their authority be still weaker in what relates to a distant state like that of Denmark; which doubtless in those times had not such intimate connections with the other countries of the north, as it hath had since? We must be sensible that almost all that could be then known in Iceland of what passed in other nations, consisted in popular rumours, and in a few songs, which were handed about by means of some Icelandic Skald who returned from thence into his own country *.

What course, then, ought an historian to pursue, amid such a wide field of contrary opinions, where the momentary gleams of light do not enable him to discover or trace out any certain truth? In the first place, I think he ought not to engage himself and his readers in a labyrinth of entangled and useless researches; the result of which, he is pretty sure, can be only doubt. In the next place, he is to pass rapidly over all those ages which are but little known, and all such facts as cannot be set clear from fiction. The interest we take in past events is weakened in proportion as they are remote and distant. But when, besides being remote, they are also doubtful, unconnected, uncircumstantial and confused, they vanish into such obscurity, that they neither can, nor ought to engage our attention. In those distant periods, if any events occur, which ought not wholly to be passed over in silence, great care should be taken to mark the degree of probability which appears to be due to them, lest we debase history by

There is much truth in these remarks though they are too indiscriminately applied, which necessarily renders them inconclusive. Saga literature has been subjected, since our author's time, to a critical examination, and a due distinction is now made betwen the mythic, the romantic, and the historical Sagas. Some of the latter, though they cannot claim to be ranked with authentic history, may at least be relied on as much as the monkish chronicles of the middle ages, to which, in every other respect, they are infinitely superior.-ED.

reducing it to one undistinguished mass of truth and fable. It is true, by conforming to this rule, an historian will leave great chasms in his work, and the annals of eight or nine centuries which, in some hands, fill up several volumes, will by this means be reduced within very few pages. But this chasm if it be one, may be usefully filled up. Instead of discussing the doubtful facts which are supposed to have happened among the northern nations, during the dark ages of paganism, let us study the religion, the character, the manners and customs of the ancient inhabitants during those ages. Such a subject, I should think, may interest the learned, and even the philosopher. It will have to most readers the charm of novelty, having been but imperfectly treated of in any modern language and so far from being foreign to the History of Denmark, it makes a very essential part of it. For why should history be only a recital of battles, sieges, intrigues, and negotiations? And why should it contain merely a heap of petty facts and dates, rather than a just picture of the opinions, customs, and even inclinations of a people? By confining our inquiries to this subject, we may with confidence consult those ancient annals, whose authority is too weak to ascertain events. It is needless to observe that great light may be thrown on the character and sentiments of a nation, by those very books, whence we can learn nothing exact or connected of their history. The most credulous writer, he that has the greatest passion for the marvellous, while he falsifies the history of his contemporaries, paints their manners of life and modes of thinking without perceiving it. His simplicity, his ignorance, are at once pledges of the artless truth of his drawing, and a warning to distrust that of his relations. This is doubtless the best, if not the only use, we can make of those old relics of poetry, which have escaped the shipwreck of time. The authors of those fragments, erected into historians by succeeding ages, have caused ancient history to degenerate into a mere tissue of fables. To avoid this mistake, let us consider them only on the footing of poets, for they were in effect nothing else; let us principally attend to and copy those strokes, which, without their intending it, point out to us the notions, and mark the character of the ages in which they lived. These are the most certain truths we can find in their works, for they could not help delivering them whether they would or not.

CHAPTER III.

OF ODIN, HIS SUPPOSED ARRIVAL IN THE NORTH, AND THE CHANGES WHICH HE IS SAID TO HAVE EFFECTED.

BEFORE I describe the state of ancient Scandinavia, I must stop one moment. A celebrated tradition, confirmed by the poems of all the northern nations, by their chronicles, by institutions and customs, some of which subsist to this day, informs us, that an extraordinary person named Odin, formerly reigned in the north: that he made great changes in the government, manners, and religion of those countries; that he enjoyed there great authority, and had even divine honours paid him. As to what regards the origin of this man, the country whence he came, the time in which he lived, and the other circumstances of his life and death, they are so uncertain, that the most profound researches, the most ingenious conjectures about them, discover nothing to us but our own ignorance. Thus previously disposed to doubt, let those ancient authors I have mentioned relate the story: all their testimonies are comprised in that of Snorri, the ancient his torian of Norway, and in the commentaries and explications which Torfæus added to his narrative.

The Roman Commonwealth was arrived to the highest pitch of power, and saw all the then known world subject to its laws, when an unforeseen event raised up enemies against it, from the very bosom of the forests of Scythia, and on the banks of the Tanäis. Mithridates by flying, had drawn Pompey after him into those deserts. The king of Pontus sought there for refuge, and new means of vengeance. He hoped to arm against the ambition of Rome, all the barbarous nations his neighbours, whose liberty she threatened. He succeeded in this at first; but all those people, ill united as allies, ill armed as soldiers, and still worse disciplined, were forced to yield to the genius of Pompey. Odin is said to have been of this number. He was obliged to withdraw himself by flight from the vengeance of the Romans; and to go and seek in countries unknown to his enemies that safety which he could no longer find in his own. His true name was Sigge, son of Fridulph; but he assumed that of Odin, who was the Supreme

God among the Teutonic nations: either in order to pass among his followers for a man inspired by the Gods, or because he was chief priest, and presided over the worship paid to that deity. We know that it was usual with many nations to give their pontiffs the name of the God they worshipped. Sigge, full of his ambitious projects, we may be assured, took care to avail himself of a title so proper to procure him respect among the people he meant to subject.

Odin, for so we shall hereafter call him, commanded the Esir, whose country must have been situated between the Pontus Euxinus, and the Caspian Sea. Their principal city was Asgard. The worship there paid to their supreme God was famous throughout the circumjacent countries. Odin having united under his banners the youth of the neighbouring nations, marched towards the north and west of Europe, subduing, we are told, all the people he found in his passage, and giving them to one or other of his sons for subjects. Many sovereign families of the north are said to be descended from these princes. Thus Horsa and Hengist, the chiefs of those Saxons, who conquered Britain in the fifth century, counted Odin, or Wodin in the number of their ancestors; it was the same with the other Anglo-Saxon princes; as well as the greatest part of those of Lower Germany and the north. But there is reason to suspect that all these genealogies, which have given birth to so many insipid panegyrics and frivolous researches, are founded upon a mere equivoque, or double meaning of the word Odin. This word signified, as we have seen above, the Supreme God of the Teutonic nations; we know also that it was customary with all the heroes of these nations to speak of themselves as sprung from their divinities, especially their god of war. The historians of those times, that is to say the poets, never failed to bestow the same honour on all those whose praises they sung: and thus they multiplied the descendants of Odin, or the Supreme God, as much as ever they found convenient.

After having disposed of so many countries, and confirmed and settled his new governments, Odin directed his course towards Scandinavia, passing through Cimbria, at present Holstein and Jutland. These provinces, exhausted of inhabitants, made him no resistance; and shortly after he passed into Fünen, which submitted as soon as ever he appeared.