THE word Edda, as applied to the collection of songs by Sœmund, signifies ancient, and may possibly have been derived from Odda, the pleasant retreat to which the poet brought the results of his many travels, and where he passed his life in philosophic medi

tation.

The Edda poems are divided into two classes, Mythological and Historical. The first contains the cosmogony and theogonic dogmas of the Scandinavians, while the second belongs to the popular era of the Komper-viser, and the ballads of the Niebelungen. The former presents the life of the gods, the latter recounts the exploits of heroes. The one is filled with incessant struggles between the principles of good and evil, the other with bloody combats and implacable revenge. In short, one is the dramatic representation of Valhalla, the other that of the world. It is thus that the Eddas embrace in their extended range the whole circle of ancient mysteries, from the thrones of the giants to the grottoes of the fairies; from the dark abodes of Hella to the splendid halls attended by the Valkyrias.

It is impossible to assign the precise date at which these poems

were compiled; but they were undoubtedly composed at various times and places. Their peculiar versification, striking metaphors, and a few words gathered here and there, furnish the sole guide to the curious, as regards their origin. It is known, however, that they are the productions of the SCALDS, and were chanted in the presence of ancient kings, as well as at national feasts and popular assemblies. Judged by their phraseology alone, one would place their origin in the eighth century; while a critical examination of their structure, and especially of the ideas conveyed, will carry them back still farther; and, indeed, to the emigration of the Asiatics to the North. The first in order of the chants which compose the ancient Edda, is the Voluspa; a poem of a strange, solemn and mysterious character, at once sad, eloquent, and obscure. It is throughout enigmatical and broken, like the responses of an oracle. It is, in fact, the prophetic mutterings of the sybil.

At the entrance of one of those interminable pine forests, so common to Scandinavia, with the mysterious ravens hovering above her head, and surrounded by crowds of howling wolves, the prophetess is seated on her tripod, and seeks from the palpitating hearts of her victims the responses of the god. Entranced by the celestial presence, her whole countenance changes its appearance. Her fearful gaze wanders anxiously around, surveying the images she has invoked, as she commences her wild chant of chaos, the birth of the frost-giants, and the combats of the gods. Ever and anon an imperative voice is heard demanding: Is the vision yet complete?' when the prophetess apparently revives, and sings of the origin of death, the abodes of the condemned, the final struggle of evil spirits, and the destruction of the world:

'AT the birth of Time, nothing existed. There was neither sea, nor sand, nor wind. Earth and sky were not apparent, nor did the least vegetation clothe the mighty abyss.

The sun appeared in the south, and the moon for the first time opened the Gates of Night; but the sun knew not his route, nor the moon her true position, nor had the stars a place assigned

them.

Then the gods ascended their high thrones, and met in council. They gave a name to night and twilight; they regulated the morning hours and mid-day, and parcelled out the years.

And the prophetess knows where stands the tree Ygdrasil, that mighty ash, whose white roots embrace the world. From it falls dew, covering the earth, and its leaves are clothed in perpetual

verdure.

From the bosom of the waters come the three daughters of Wisdom, and advance beneath this tree. And the name of the first is URD, of the second, VERDANDI, of the third, SKULD. These are those who regulate man's destiny.

She knows too where the trumpet of HEIMDAL is concealed amid the branches of the celestial tree, and she beholds the foaming waters of the River of Wisdom rolling swiftly on beneath the glance of ALLFADER.

'One day she was seated at the entrance of her abode, and beheld approach the mightiest of the gods, who gazed fixedly upon her. She exclaimed: What do you demand from me? I know that thou art ODIN, he whose eye is daily plunged in the Well of Mimer, fed by the Stream of Wisdom.' And the sovereign of the gods gave her mystic rings and Runic staves, with the farther gift of prophecy. Her sight was purified, and embraced the world.

She saw the cruel fate reserved for BALDER, the son of ODIN. The branch of the tree increased, and though small, was beautiful. It became a murderous sword, and was borne by HANDER.

'Soon arose the son of ODIN, destined to avenge his brother, BALDER. In one night he attained to manhood, nor washed he his face or painted his hair until he reaped full vengeance on the murderer.

And the voice cried: 'See you aught else?' and the prophetess answered:

'The wolves howl in the caves of Gaipa. Their chains are broken, and the wolves are free. The prophetess has seen from afar the decline of the Empire of Heaven, and the fall of all the gods. 'Brothers combat with each other, parents forget the bonds which bind them to their children, and the marriage-tie is rent asunder. The bucklers of the warriors are broken. The war-time has come; the season of wolves and tempests!

Again the wolves howl in the caves of Gnipa. Their chains are broken, and the wolves are free. On one side advances HYRM. The sea is agitated, and the serpents swell with wrath. The eagle

screams with joy over the dead bodies it tears in pieces, and the ship Nagelfar* floats out upon the

waters.

'It approaches from the south. The sons of MUSPEL are upon it, and LOKI at the helm. The race of monsters have associated with the wolves, and LOKI is their leader.

Alas! what fate is reserved for the race of the Asers! What will be the destiny of the Elves! The world of the giants is filled with tumult. The Asers assemble, and the dwarfs of the mountain groan at the entrance of their caverns.

'SURTUR comes from the south, and brings Conflagration with him. His burning sword flashes in the air, and the rocks are rent asunder. The TROLLES wander about anxiously, and men hasten along the path of death.

'Tribulation seizes the heart of HYLNA when ODIN advances to meet the mighty wolf. The conqueror of BELA combats with SURTUR. But the husband of FRIGGA is vanquished in the battle.

Then advances the son of the God of Victory, the powerful VIDAR, to struggle with the wolf. With one hand he holds him fast, while the other plunges a sword into his heart.

THOR, too, approaches, the son of ODIN. He attacks the serpeut Midgard, and destroys him; but falling back mine paces, dies himself by the venom of the monster.

The sun is clothed in darkness, and the reeling earth sinks beneath the waters. The stars shoot from the firmament, and the flames mount even to the skies.

And the prophetess beholds a new earth, beautiful and pleasant, rising from the bosom of the waters. The waves retire within their boundaries, and the eagle that has taken fish from the meadows flies away forever.

The Asers reassemble in the vales of Ida, and talk concerning the destruction of the world. They recall the heroic deeds of the past, and the lessons of the sovereign god.

They find also upon the green shores of the new world the wonderful tablets of gold which the first of the gods and the race of FJOLNER possessed before the birth of time.

The fields are covered with fruits, which spring up spontaneously. Disease is banished from the earth; and BALDER, returning, dwells with his brother HANDER in the palaces of ODIN.

'And the prophetess beholds the halls of Gimla, covered with gold, and more brilliant than the stars. The just and good live there, and their happiness extends forever.

From the lowest abyss of darkness rises the dragon NIDHUG, bearing with him the bodies of the dead. He holds his course across the vallies, falls, and disappears.'

The songs of Wafthrunder, Grinmer and Alvis finish the Voluspa; but they are little more than new representations of the same mythological opinions. In the first, Odin pays a visit to the giant Wafthrunder, and discusses various questions relative to the earth, the sun, and movement of the planets. In the second, Odin, under the name of Grimner, instructs Girrod as to the stars, heavenly bodies, and especially Valhalla. He recounts also the creation of the world, and the transactions of the gods. This song enters much into details, is extremely clear, and often recurs to the peculiar mythology of the North. Although more recent than some others, it still dates from Pagan times. In the poem of Alvis, the subject descends from the nature and attributes of the gods to describe one of those imaginary beings to whom the superstition of the age attributed so many mysterious agencies. The dwarf Alvis is engaged in marriage to Thor's daughter, and has gone to seek her for the consummation of his nuptials. Thor meanwhile appears, and forbids the ceremony, until the dwarf should answer such questions as he asked of him. He inquires particularly as to the origin of night and day, the stars and elements. Alvis answers with wonderful accuracy and promptness. Thor, indeed, pays an involuntary homage to his abilities, and repents of his interference, when the day suddenly appears, and Alvis, who as a dwarf is forced to live for the most time on the earth, vanishes with the first rays of the morning sun.

By the side of this symbolic theogony are also placed the moral and prudential maxims of the Havamal; a poem which the Scandinavians so much prized, as to have attributed its composition to

THIS ship was constructed from the nails of dead men. Its completion heralded the destruction of the world. -TR.

Odin himself. It is, in fact, the Book of Proverbs' of that Solomon of the North; a complete code of practical life. Each strophe contains a sentence, replete with that popular wisdom so characteristic of the maxims of all nations. It is certain that the divinity which framed the Havamal did not do so in the entrenchments of his sanctuaries; but descending to humanity, and mingling with men, fully learned their customs and impulses, and appreciated their wants, weaknesses and vices. He beheld the Scandinavians bold and hardy by nature; consequently he has not greatly recommended courage. But he also found them lovers of drink, rash and impetuous, and he therefore impressed upon them the blessings of temperance, and the necessity of acting with modesty and prudence. The few following strophes will suffice to characterize the poem:

'BEFORE entering the house of another, look carefully on all sides of it, for who knows but his enemies are concealed there?

He should be intelligent who travels much. At home ignorance is pardonable, but he who knows nothing, is the subject of ridicule among instructed men.

'It is wrong to make a vain show of one's talents: they should be rather hidden. Misfortunes rarely overtake him who conducts himself with wisdom. There is no better friend than a good judgment. 'Avoid importuning the traveller who demands your hospitality. He will naturally say much without interrogation, but he first needs food and raiment.

Are you about to visit an unfaithful friend? Choose the most winding way possible. If the contrary, select the shortest.

'One's own house, however small, is better than a hired one. Then each one is his own master. The heart bleeds when compelled to seek nourishment at the hands of another.

In my youth I travelled much, and esteemed myself fortunate when I found a good companion; for sociability constitutes the happiness of man.

Stir not without your arms: who knows whether, at some point of the journey, they may not be needed?

'One should return affection with affection, a present with a present, sarcasm with sarcasm, and lies with falsehoods.

One cannot reflect too much. Intemperate joy seldom enters the breast of him who is instructed by reflection.

Fire-brands kindle each other, and flame adds to flame. It is in mutual intercourse that men are known. The haughty one is discovered by his silence.

Our friends die; our flocks obey the same law of nature. We too shall die, but a noble heart dies never.

Happy is the man whose own hands have secured his fortune, for reliance on the generosity of others is attended with uncertainiy.

'The one devoid of judgment watches all night and is busied about nothing. He finds himself fatigued at morning, and is no more advanced than when he started.

There is no greater suffering, than discontent with one's condition.

'Trust not your secrets to the wicked; they will not return your confidence.

'Have you a firm friend, visit him often. The road but little travelled is soon choked with weeds. 'Mock not the aged. Their words are filled with instruction, and wisdom dwells amid the wrinkles of their forehead.

The tree of the mountain has decayed. It has no longer root or bark. It is loved by no one. Why should it still live?

'Praise the beauty of the day when it has past; a woman when she is dead; a young girl when wedded; a sword that you have proved; ice that has borne you safely; and ale when it is drunk.'

The Havamal closes with an enthusiastic chant, in which Odin explains magic and the runic mysteries.

Next in order come the symbolic poems, containing recitals of wars and voyages. They are in short a species of epic tales, clothed in the wild imaginative language of the North. Though appearing at first sight like so many extravagant romances, they are without doubt (like the labors of Hercules and the voyages of Isis,) the embodiment of religious mysteries, nor would the task be difficult to trace their close connexion with the mysticisms of the East. The chants consecrated to Thor are equally curious and signifiThe Scandinavian poets have invented the most wonderful

cant.

scenes, for the purpose of displaying the qualities of this their god of strength.

It is related that on one occasion the whole of the celestials were invited to a festival, but in the absence of nectar their drink was to consist only of weak beer. This proposed fête was unluckily about to be abandoned, for want of a sufficiently large cauldron in which to prepare the beverage. Great indeed was the consternation of the sons of Odin, who had calculated on a glorious intoxication, and in its place had nothing but the prospect of a return to the meagre festivities of Vallhalla. At this moment of general sorrow it was recollected by Tyr that the Giant Thymer possessed a vessel of sufficient capacity for the purposed entertainment. On this suggestion hope immediately succeeded to the mournful anticipation, and Thor, in company with Tyr, was despatched on the truly arduous duty of securing the desired utensil. The wife of the giant received the adventurers with trembling, for adorned as she was with nine hundred heads, she still feared the temper of her husband, and reflecting on his little disposition toward hospitality, she at once concealed the strangers in the very vessel they were seeking. In a short time Hymer returned from a hunting expedition, and cast many an inquisitive glance, as Ogre-like, he scented the blood of the visitants. He immediately commenced traversing the various apartments, and carefully raised all the articles of furniture, and even the stone pillars, till at last he discovered Thor, whom he regarded with a ferocious aspect. He was, however, finally appeased by the persuasion of his wife, and assenting that the stranger should remain all night, ordered three bullocks to be killed for supper. Thor ate a whole one, at which the giant was no less astonished than enraged. In the morning they proceeded together on a fishing excursion, when Thor, using one of the remaining bullocks as a bait, succeeded in catching the great serpent Midgard which surrounds the world. At this sight the giant grew pale with fear, but Thor, stepping upon the head of the monster, gave him a single blow with his hammer, at which the sea was stirred to its lowest depths, and the very mountains trembled. On their return to the shore the giant, zealous of the strength of Thor, bringing an immense mass of steel, defied him to break the same asunder. The god cast it in repeated trials against iron and rocks, but was unable to destroy its cohesion. He finally flung it with a powerful effort against the forehead of Hymer, who sustained the shock without apparent sensation though the steel was shattered into fragments. The giant now determined on a new experiment. He placed his guests before the immense cauldron, and demanded if they were able to carry it. Tyr essayed in vain, while Thor, laughing at the same time, placed it on his head as a helmet and walked off rapidly. The Giant followed with a crowd of monsters which composed his body gaurd, but Thor overcame them in succession, and finally placed his burden triumphantly in the assembly of the gods.

One morning on rising, Thor discovered that he had lost his hammer; that wonderful instrument, with which he exterminated mon