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The argument of the poem by the author is the sole document that accompanies the original work; there are neither notes nor preface to the edition from which I have made my translation, and which is the only one I have ever seen. To the people of education in Scandinavia, who are well versed in the ancient mythology of their country, notes are perhaps not strictly necessary, inasmuch as this poem is based upon the Edda, which is universally read; but since, to the generality of English readers, the Edda and the Scandinavian mythology are but little, if at all familiar, I feel myself bound to furnish them with all the information on the subject that I have been able to collect from various sources; by which they will be enabled to read this poem with additional pleasure and profit.

The Scandinavian mythology, like that of all other nations, is founded on the personification and consequent adoration of the powers of nature, which may be expressed by the word “Demonism,” used in its Greek sense; to this may be added the deification of national heroes.

The first source of Demonism (I here borrow the words of Wieland in his admirable work called Agathodemon) lies in the ignorance of mankind, in the early stages of the world, of the real causes or laws by which the powers of nature act, on the one side; and on the other, in the innate propensity of man to reflect the image of the things which he can and does see, on the things which lie beyond the contact of his senses.

This induces us to personify the causes of the effects that we behold in nature; we assign to them our manner of thinking and acting, and we endow them with a form like our own, because we can conceive no higher model. Thus we give a supposed existence to an infinite number of divinities in heaven and earth, whose operations are seen and felt, though the agents themselves are unseen or unknown. Thus the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, rivers, woods, mountains, etc., all have their peculiar divinities; and as these were considered as the cause of light or of darkness, of warmth or of cold, of fertility or of barrenness, of the eternal vicissitudes of the year, month or day, as well as of the destructive effects of storms, tempests, floods, volcanoes, earthquakes, etc., to the idea of their existence became conjoined the belief of their superhuman power. They were therefore recognised as the arbitrary rulers of nature, who had their separate principalities, circles, and districts in her empire; and as we ascribe to them our own passions, caprices, and necessities, we naturally endeavour to captivate their good will, or avert their anger, by prayers, sacrifices, presents, or penances.

On the principle of Demonism, therefore, did the earliest legislators establish the basis of their fabric of social order, civilization and religion; and it was by profiting by this innate inclination of mankind, that priests and mystagogues succeeded in consolidating their power and influence, which became necessarily augmented and enhanced by the right they arrogated to themselves of canonizing or deifying those heroes or princes, whom they were disposed to hold up as worthy of adoration, or as examples to be followed by the people.

History thus became blended with allegory and mythology; and this circumstance, combined with the total want of chronology, which seems to pervade the early records of all nations, renders it extremely difficult to give to any mythology a consistent form, proportionate in all its parts, and presenting an invariable doctrine or system of action.

Proceeding thus from a similar source, the Scandinavian polytheism has a remarkable coincidence with those of Greece, Italy, Egypt and India; and from its classification of the superior powers into good and evil genii, it bears a still more striking resemblance to the religion of the ancient Persians, the doctrine of the Magi, which admits the co-existence of, and the eternal struggle between, the two opposing principles of Good and Evil, under the types of Ormuzd and Ahrimanes.

It seems generally admitted that the Gothic mythology was introduced into the north-west of Europe by the Asar or Asiatic Goths, when, under the guidance of the historical Odin, they emigrated from the borders of the Black Sea and penetrated into Scandinavia, where they founded their empire; and had they at that time been acquainted with navigation, they would most assuredly not have stopped there, but would have invaded the British Islands, which would have afforded an easy conquest, and a more alluring resting-place, from the superior fertility of their soil, and far greater mildness of the climate.

The word Asa may be derived from Asia, or both may be derived from the word As or Az,[1] which in the Zend or ancient Persian dialect (the link between the Gothic and the Sanscrit) signifies “powerful, elevated;” and may have been applied to that part of Asia bordering on Europe by its own inhabitants, as a country, par excellence, occupied by a super-excellent people; on the same principle that the word “Svensk” (Swedish) is derived from “Sven” (man), and denotes a man, par excellence; and the country itself called “Sverige” (empire of men, Sweden). The word Goth also is a synonyme for what is good, great, and illustrious; for in all the Teutonic and Scandinavian languages, the three words Goth, good, and God spring from the same root; such has ever been the self-love and vanity of nations. The term Jotun or Jette may on the other hand have been the name of some rival nation, professing a different worship, and engaged in a long and obstinate warfare with the Asar or Goths, either in Asia or in Europe; and by the suggestion of national hatred, the Asar may have given the name of their enemies (the Jetter) to the destructive powers of nature, personified by the malevolent genii or giants: hence in the Icelandic, Danish and Swedish languages, the term Jotun, Jette, or Jätte, denotes a giant and implies the idea formed of this fabulous race by all nations.

The historical Odin was deified after his death, as were his wives, his sons, and immediate relations, and either their names may have been given to the benign influences of nature, or they (Odin and his relations) may have adopted the names of the gods of their Asiatic ancestors, in order to impose on their new subjects. The names of regions, places and abodes were transferred from Asia to Scandinavia; and the said names were, either previously or subsequently to the first grand immigration of the Goths into the north-west of Europe, applied by them to the supposed residences of the gods in heaven. Among the Egyptians and Greeks, the names of the Zodiac and of the constellations afford a similar and satisfactory proof of the continual re-action of earth on heaven, and of heaven on earth.[2]

The popular belief of the continual intercourse between heaven and earth, between gods, demi-gods, and heroes in the early ages of mankind, fostered and encouraged by the many ingenious allegories framed by the priests, the sole astronomers of the time, out of the movements and influences of the celestial bodies, render either hypothesis probable, and may serve to account for the many incongruities that prevail in the Scandinavian, as well as in other mythologies; it is sufficient for the comprehension of this poem, to lay down the principle, that the Asar (gods) represent the creating, embellishing, and conservative powers of nature; and the Jetter (giants), on the contrary, represent the defacing, corrupting, destructive powers of the same. The giants existed before the gods, inasmuch as chaos, darkness and confusion preceded creation, light and order.

With respect to the superhuman size attributed by most nations to evil spirits, it may be observed, that in darkness the terrors of mankind increase, and the shades of night magnify considerably to the visual orb every object in nature: hence to the Jetter, or evil genii, who were supposed to wander about at night doing mischief, was lent by the imagination a form gigantic in stature, and features frightful to behold. Day appears! the giants vanish! or they assume the ordinary appearance of towers, steeples, and windmills; or they become changed to wolves and bears; or they dwindle to the usual human size: but are still dangerous by their knowledge of magic, their power of effecting transformations, and by the artifices and illusions whereby they seek to mislead mankind and seduce them to the perpetration of evil. That the Jotun or Jetter, who were probably the aboriginal inhabitants of Scandinavia at the time of the Gothic invasion, should appear to the Asar to be giants in size, and as having the heads of bears, wolves, elks, or wild bulls, conjoined to human bodies, may be very easily and naturally accounted for. The Jotun race were in a very low state of civilization compared with the Asar, and were, probably, totally unacquainted with the art of tanning or weaving. They accordingly clothed themselves with the skins of beasts; and in order to increase the terrific in their exterior (an object of great importance among savage nations), they preserved the head, tail, and claws of the animals, in whose spoils they arrayed themselves; and wore its head, horns and all, as a head-dress above their own, allowing the tail to dangle behind them, while its paws crossed their breast. This must naturally have given to them the appearance, not only of a stature far above the human size, but that also of partaking of the shape and nature both of man and beast, which idea was not a little supported by the ferocity of their manners; and such was probably the origin of giantism in every country.[3]

I shall now proceed to give an outline of the cosmogony and principal events of the Scandinavian mythology, as far as they can be collected from the only authentic source extant, viz. the fragments of the poetry contained in the elder or poetic Edda, discovered and compiled by the celebrated Sæmund Sigfusson, a native of Iceland, who was born in the year 1054, and died in 1133. He was a Christian priest of extensive talents and acquirements, who made a journey to Rome, a rare occurrence, at that time, among the clergy of the north. He it was who discovered these fragments, and at once perceived their value. He compiled them, and gave them to light, with a Latin translation of his own, under the name of the Edda, which, in the Icelandic or ancient Scandinavian tongue, means “Ancestress.”

It was fortunate that this discovery was made by a man so enlightened and liberal as Sæmunder, who was free from all the prejudices which prevailed among the clergy of his time. Any poem or writing connected with the ancient polytheistic religion of the country, was at that time considered as the work of devils, and severely proscribed. The poems of the Edda, therefore, had they fallen into the hands of an ignorant or bigotted priest, would have been burnt, and lost to posterity for ever. The fragments thus collected together under the name of the Edda are, indeed, but the disjectorum membra poetarum; but they form the only document extant, which throws on the Scandinavian mythology a light at all to be depended on.[4]

Of importance far inferior, but still of considerable relative utility, is the younger or prosaic Edda, composed, rather than compiled, by Snorro Storleson, a learned Icelander, who was born in 1178, and was killed at Reykiaholt in 1241. This work, written in prose, may be considered as a commentary on the elder or poetic Edda, with several additions and legends, collected probably from oral tradition. It is written in a homely, story-telling style, and but for the elder Edda, would stand a chance of being considered as unimportant as a black letter romaunt or fairy tale. In the preface to it, there is a strange jumble of history, sacred and profane; a very fantastic geography; and an attempt to derive the genealogy of all the nations in Europe from the Trojans: there reigns, moreover, throughout the whole work, a total want of chronology.[5]

The most interesting part of the work, from the light it throws on the elder Edda, is the Gyllfaginning, or Conversations of King Gyllfe, who reigned over a part of Sweden at the time of Odin’s invasion. A curious appendage to the work is the “Skalde sprâket” (the language of the Skalds), which forms a sort of Gradus ad Parnassum of the Icelandic poetry, in which the synonymes and epithets of all persons and things occurring in the works of the Skalds, are given with extreme accuracy. But, as I have before stated, the whole importance of Snorro Sturleson’s work is derived from the elder or poetic Edda. In the Gyllfaginning occurs the following remarkable passage:

“King Gyllfe was a prudent and very wise man; it caused him much surprize that the Asar possessed so much knowledge, that every thing yielded to their will; and he reflected whether this could proceed from their own power, or whether they derived it from the Gods, to whom they sacrificed.”

It is from the Gyllfaginning that I borrow the following account of the cosmogony, according to the Scandinavian mythology.

In the beginning when nothing existed, when there was neither earth, nor sea, nor heaven, all was Ginnungagap,[6] a vast unfathomable abyss. Towards the north of this abyss lay a world of cold and darkness called Niffelheim, in the midst of which was the source or fountain Hvergelmer. On the south of Ginnungagap lay Muspelheim, a world of heat, light and fire. From the source Hvergelmer flowed twelve rivers, called collectively Elivagor. These flowed into Ginnungagap, so far from their source, that the poisonous matter they contained congealed at length, and formed a mass of ice. On the other hand, the sparks and flames proceeding from Muspelheim, came into contact with this congealed mass; and the heat, operating on the cold, produced the giant Ymer, the grand progenitor of the race of giants. He was wicked, and so were all his race, who were called Hrimthusser. Shortly after the apparition of Ymer, arose the cow Audumbla; she nourished herself by licking the frost from the pillars of salt in Ginnungagap; and this operation produced, on the first day, a man’s hair; on the second, his whole head; on the third the entire man; this man was called Bure. Bure had a son called Bor; and this Bor, by an union with a beautiful giantess of the name of Betsla, became the father of three sons, Odin, Vil and Ve, the progenitors of the Asar race. These three brothers slew the giant Ymer, from whose body flowed so much blood, that all the giants were drowned therein, except Bergelmer and his wife, who escaped from the deluge on the top of a mountain. Bergelmer and his wife had a numerous progeny, and by them were perpetuated the giant race. Odin, Vil and Ve, having slain Ymer, proceeded to the creation of the world, as it now exists. From the limbs of Ymer, they created the earth, the mountains from his bones, the sea from his blood, the heavens from his scull; and from his eye-brows they built Midgard, name of the abode to be inhabited by the human race, and so called, because it lies in the middle region. They then from two trees, which they found on the sea-shore, created a man, called Askur, and a woman called Embla; and placed them to dwell in Midgard. From this pair descend all mankind.

On the confines of Midgard towards the north, and separated from it by mountains of ice and snow, and dreary wastes eternally agitated by storms, lies Utgard, the domain of the giants, whose sovereign is Lok, commonly called Utgard-Lok, to distinguish him from an Asa bearing the same name. Utgard became thus the region assigned to the giant race, as Midgard was to mankind. The Asar chose for themselves a region supposed to be in the heavens above the earth, and this region they called Asagard. There they built for themselves various palaces and tenements; and dwelling therein, pass their time in joy and felicity, in banquets, tournaments, festivals, and amusements of all sorts; or they occupy themselves in conferring happiness upon, and imagining inventions useful and beneficial to the human race. They occasionally descend from Asagard to Midgard, by passing over the bridge Bifrost, when they deem it necessary to intervene immediately in the affairs of mankind, for the purpose of relieving the oppressed, or of enforcing the practice of justice and benevolence.

The giants, on the contrary, when they sally forth from their domain in Utgard, do so for the purpose of creating storms and earthquakes, and causing, either openly or insidiously, as much mischief as possible to gods and men.

I shall not in this preface enumerate the names of the different gods and goddesses, nor of their abodes and attributes; neither shall I enumerate the names of the giants, nor those of the Dvergar, of the Alfer, or of the Vaner. All these names will be found in a catalogue, alphabetically arranged, which I shall annex to this work. Neither shall I take notice, in this preface, of the various episodes of the mythology, which are introduced in the body of the poem, and explain themselves; but I shall proceed to give an account of the death of Balder,[7] as it is related in the younger or prosaic Edda.

Frigga is the wife of Odin and queen of the gods. Their son Balder, the most benevolent among the Asar, called by the Skalds “the fillet that binds together the garland of the gods,” was troubled with unpleasant dreams, portending some dreadful calamity to himself, and pregnant with mischief and ruin to the universe. He related his dreams to the Asar, and a council was held by them, in order to devise the means of averting the threatened mischief. His mother Frigga exacted an oath from all the elements, from iron and all kinds of metals, from stones, trees, beasts, birds, fishes and reptiles, that they would do no injury to Balder. When this oath was made, it was agreed upon by the Asar, that they should throw their lances at Balder, or cut at him with their swords, by way of amusement and experiment. Of course, enchanted as he was, he remained unscathed from all those assaults. This rejoiced the gods exceedingly; but there was one among the Asar, called Lok, originally of giant race, but admitted among the gods; a being of a treacherous and vacillating disposition, addicted to mockery and calumny, and inheriting from his ancestors, the giants, a strong innate disposition to mischief. It grieved him sore, that no injury could be done to Balder. He repaired to Fensal, the abode of Frigga, in the shape of a female, and related to her what had past between Balder and the other Asar at the tournament. Frigga replied: No weapon can do injury to Balder, for I have exacted an oath in his favour from all things likely to do him mischief. Lok answered: Have you really exacted an oath from all things? Frigga replied: Eastward to Valhalla grows a little plant, called the mistletoe; from it I exacted no oath, for it appeared to me so insignificant, as to be incapable of doing harm to anybody. Lok went away, dug up the plant, and made thereof a spear; he then went in search of Hædur, twin-brother of Balder, and born blind. Having found him, he asked him, why he did not join in the general amusement, and cast a weapon at Balder. Hædur replied: I am blind, and have no weapon. Lok answered: You should not be the only one among the Asar, who does not do honour to Balder; here! take this lance (giving to him the spear made of the mistletoe), and run at him with it! Hædur did so, and Balder fell down dead. The gods were inconsolable at his loss, and sent Hermod, the messenger of Odin, to Hela, the queen of death and of the shades below, into whose hands Balder had fallen, in order to supplicate his release. Hermod mounted the steed of Odin, called Sleipner, and repaired to the abode of Hela, in order to demand the restitution of Balder. Hela at first refused to release him on any condition whatsoever; but at length relenting, she said: Now is the time to prove, if Balder be really so beloved by all creatures, as ye pretend. If, therefore, every thing in nature will shed tears for Balder’s death, and demand his release, I will grant it. Hermod returned to Asagard, satisfied with the success of his mission. The Asar sent messengers all over the earth, calling upon all creatures to weep for Balder’s death; and all creatures did grieve and join in the prayer for his release from the shades of Helheim, except an old witch, by name Thock, who was sitting by the entrance of a cavern. When called upon to join in the general lamentation, she answered spitefully:

With dry tears

Doth Thock grieve

For the death of Balder;

He never did good to me

Either in life or death;

May Hela retain her prey!

and in consequence of this solitary refusal, Hela did retain her prey, and will do so until the end of time. It was now discovered that the witch Thock was no other than Lok himself in disguise; and the gods, enraged at his treachery, inflicted on him a summary vengeance. Changing his two sons into wolves, who devour each other, the gods make a chain from their intestines, and bind therewith Lok to a sharp rock in a subterranean abode. They then place over him two enormous serpents, who drop their venom on his limbs, and he is to remain exposed to this continual torture until the end of the world. But though Lok be thus punished, the calamity springing from Balder’s death cannot be averted; from it dates the entrance of crime and misery into the world, and a state of unceasing warfare in the heavens, on the earth, and under the earth; which state is to last until the great day of Ragnarok, called the twilight of the gods. On that awful day, which is to be preceded by a severe uninterrupted winter of three years’ duration, a great battle is to be fought between the gods and giants, in which dreadful conflict giants, gods, mankind, the whole universe, in fine, are to perish in a shower of fire and blood. After the destruction of the world, a new creation is to take place under the auspices of Vidar, the god of silence and wisdom, the sole being who survives the general conflagration. It is he who is to resuscitate the gods and the human race, and to lead them to dwell in the palace of Gimle on the plains of Ida, an abode of eternal joy and felicity, where virtue and love are to reign triumphant, and vice and hatred be extinguished for ever. As the details of the destruction of the world and of its reconstruction are given in the last canto of this poem, I need not dwell on them here.[8] Besides the alphabetical catalogue, explicatory of all that remains to be known, concerning the events and personages which figure in this poem, I have annexed to each canto notes, which give the hidden sense and meaning of most of the mythes and allegories; on which subjects I have borrowed all my information from the celebrated Danish antiquarian Finn Magnussen, now living in Copenhagen, which information is to be found in his two admirable works, the one called “The elder Edda, translated with copious notes and illustrations;” the other, “The Edda doctrine explained and elucidated.” These two works afford a complete key to the mythes and allegories of the Scandinavian mythology, intricate as it is; and armed thus with his (Finn Magnussen’s) magic wand, I too may fearlessly undertake the office of Hierophant.

With respect to this poem and its author,[9] it has been observed by a modern Danish writer of some eminence: “There have been various poetical works in all the northern languages based on the legends of the Edda; but no author has woven thereof a whole, nor has so happily and poetically embodied its genius, mythes and transformations, as Œhlenschläger in his celebrated poem, The Gods of the North.”

To me it seems that he has combined in an eminent degree the peculiar excellences of three distinguished poets, of three distinct ages, viz. those of Hesiod in his Theogony, of Ovid in his Metamorphoses, and of Ariosto in his Orlando Furioso. Œhlenschläger seems to possess all the inexhaustible genius, fertility of invention, playfulness, and sly, but not ill-natured, satire of the bard of Ferrara:

“Il grande che cantò le armi e gli amori.”

Of my translation, it befits not me to speak. Like my archetype, I have adopted various metres for the different cantos, not always the same as those of the original; for I wished to take a freer scope, and not to fetter myself by an invariable adoption of the self-same metres, which would have been attended with great difficulty, inasmuch as some of them are unsuitable to the genius of the English language, which is far less laconic than the Danish. I have likewise, in a few instances, amplified my archetype, for I was determined that nothing of his should be lost; yet I trust, that even in those parts where I have most amplified, I have never departed from the meaning and spirit of the author. I can therefore never admit, that my translation, though unshackled, should be termed “a free one,” or Bearbeitung, as the Germans express it.

With respect to my qualifications as a translator, they are as follows: from the early age of fifteen I have been engaged in the acquisition of the language and literature of Germany; for the last twelve years, I have closely studied the Danish and Swedish languages, and I have lately attempted the Icelandic.

About eight years ago, I made a summer tour in Denmark and Sweden, and when at Copenhagen, I became acquainted with Finn Magnussen, the celebrated antiquarian, and with the poet Œhlenschläger himself, most of whose works I had previously read with unbounded admiration and delight, and among which, this poem, “The Gods of the North,” had excited my peculiar attention. Thus prepared, I determined on undertaking a metrical version of the whole of this work, one canto of which (the 12th) I had previously translated, and published anonymously in a Parisian weekly review, in 1835.

In my translation, I was further encouraged by the idea that I was thereby contributing to spread among my countrymen a taste for the mythology and general literature of Scandinavia, which is capable of furnishing to the painter or the sculptor a series of subjects not less interesting than those derived from the classic sources of Greece or Rome. I recommend, also, to the attention of scholars, the study of the Danish and Swedish languages, as the key to an historical literature extremely rich and diversified, interesting to the readers of every European nation, but more particularly so to the English reader, who is desirous of forming an intimate acquaintance with the arcana of his own language, and with his own early history, laws, customs, manners, and legends. The history of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden is as captivating as a romance, and it presents an astonishing variety of the most singular events, which would afford admirable subjects for epic and dramatic poetry, as well as for the historical novel. The English reader will perceive, likewise, that the Scandinavian mythology is the fountain head of many of the most popular tales, legends, and ballads of his own country. It will interest him to mark the effect of the introduction of the Christian religion upon the Scandinavian polytheism, as therein he may trace the origin of many of our own superstitions and fabulous traditions. At the appearance of the Cross, the proud edifice of Valhalla, not seldom, alas! polluted with human gore, crumbles into dust. Asagard, with all its palaces and gardens, dissolves in air! The mighty Odin himself, the wise, the just, the beneficent Odin, degenerates into a common-place demon, liable to be exorcised by a parish priest. The Nornor, or Fates, the solemn, majestic, and impartial Nornor, though stern, yet beautiful to behold, become changed to disgusting and wrinkled witches, and figure as such in the weird sisters of Macbeth. The awful giants of Utgard sink into the ogres of a fairy tale; Thor, deprived of his belt, his hammer, his gauntlets, and his car, dwindles into Jack the Giant-killer,[10] the familiar hero of our days of childhood; and from the graa gaas (grey goose), a name given to a collection of ancient legends in the Icelandic tongue, from the circumstance of great longevity being attributed to that bird, may be traced our old nursery acquaintance and monitress, Mother Goose.[11] I have only to add, that I began the translation of this poem towards the end of the year 1836, and finished it in the autumn of 1837; but I was compelled by circumstances to delay the publication of it until the present year.

W. E. Frye.

Paris, January 1845.

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[1] This may be the origin of the term Ace in cards.

[2] In the prosaic Edda is this remarkable passage, wherein the name of Odin is given to Alfader, the supreme god. “We suppose that he (Odin, the god) must have been so called, for so is called the man, the greatest and the most glorious that we know, and well may mankind let him bear that name.”

[3] The figure given to the devil by the imagination of the northern nations is a confirmation of this hypothesis; whereas the Orientals give to him a more seducing form; but in modern times the least cultivated minds reject the northern type, as Göthe says in his drama of Faust:

Das nordische Phantom ist jetzt nicht mehr zu schauen,

Wo siehst du jetzt die Hörner, Schweif und Klauen?

(Faust von Göthe.)

[4] The Eddas are written in the Icelandic tongue, then called the Suio-Gothic, and sometimes the Norrana tunga (or Norse tongue), which was formerly the language of all Scandinavia. After the introduction of Christianity, from the connection with the Empire and the Church, this tongue became gradually deteriorated by a mixture with the German; and it is by this mixture with the German that the modern Swedish and Danish languages are formed. Iceland having been colonised by some Norwegian families previous to the corruption of the language, has thus, from its insular position, preserved the old language pure; and it is now called Icelandic, which, though a dead language for Scandinavia, is a living one in Iceland.

[5] Snorro Storleson is likewise the author of the celebrated history called Heimkringlas, a most valuable work.

[6] For the meaning of Ginnungagap and of all the other proper names, see the alphabetical catalogue annexed to this preface.

[7] The details of the death of Balder are not given in this Poem “The Gods of the North.” It is only alluded to in the speech of the Vala, in the last canto; but Œhlenschläger has treated the “Death of Balder” separately, and made it the subject of an admirable tragic opera, with choruses and trochaics in the Greek style.

[8] Respecting the tragic opera of Balder by Œhlenschläger, which I have also translated, Sneedorf Birch says:

“The mythe of Balder is one of the most beautiful and sublime poetical compositions, whose equal is not to be found in the Greek or Roman mythology, or perhaps in that of any other people. This mythe has besides furnished the subject of one of the finest masterpieces in the Danish literature, namely, the drama of “Balder the Good,” by Œhlenschläger.”

[9] Sneedorf Birch.

[10] Thor is called by the Scalds Jotni-bane, i.e. Bane of the Giants: perhaps Odin himself may be the original Jack the Giant-killer, since one of his names is Jalc.—See the Grimnismal in the poetic Edda.

[11] The French also call these tales Les Contes de ma Mère l’Oie.