OLD NORSE AND ANCIENT GREEK IDEALS

SVEINBJORN JOHNSON

GEOGRAPHICALLY, Greece and Scandinavia are not far apart; and yet, to those who
have studied only the red, and sometimes hysterical, annals of the priest-
ly chroniclers of the eighth and ninth centuries, as found in the British Isles, or the
histories based on them, culturally the Greeks and the Vikings seem to have been
separated by a veritable Ginungagap as wide as that which divides re nement from
barbarism. It is understandable, therefore, that the implications of the title, that anything
in the ideals or philosophies of Greece and Scandinavia of ancient times can be
comparable, will, at rst glance, inspire skepticism in places where the literature and
philosophy of the sunny southlands of Europe have been the objects of special and
exclusive study. Indeed, if it be permissible to refer to the commonly accepted texts on
the history of thought and philosophy, the paucity or total want of reference to ancient
Scandinavia justi es the statement that these learned writers are not even aware of the
indubitable fact that this virile people not only did re ect upon matters other than the
arts of war, but possessed a distinct moral philosophy which was rather clearly re ected
in the life of the common man as well as in the customary law of the time.
The period which, for our purposes, is embraced within the phrase "Old Norse" is the
Viking Age. This phrase, again, needs elucidation in order to provide the background of
colors necessary to a complete picture of Norse thought.
The Viking Age is a distinct period in northern history. In A.D. 617 a Scandinavian
expedition rst appeared off the Irish coast; then followed a period of comparative quiet
while the Scottish islands were settled by Norsemen. About 8o0 the whole of
Scandinavia seemed to heave and swell with a restlessness that broke in succeeding
waves over all Europe. In 793 they swarmed over Lindisfarne, near the Northumberland
coast; and by 825 they had spread inland, seizing large cities and even wintering in the
British Isles. In 874 the settlement of Iceland began, from the islands west of
Scandinavia and from Ireland; and in 87 the Danes took Northumberland, distributing
the land and fully cultivating the soil. By goo northern England was Norse and Alfred
barely kept the Norsemen from the southern counties; they had settled Normandy and
were laying the foundations of the Icelandic republic; in Ireland they had founded Dublin
and had overrun the Orkneys, Caithness, the Shetlands, and the Faroe Islands; while
the Swedes had swept through Russia, founding a line of kings, and in 907 were
threatening the very gates of Constantinople. Meanwhile, the Danes had occupied
Wendish territory and established a settlement on the Prussian coast.
For three-quarters of a century the processes of amalgamation were at work. Trade,
commerce, governmental science, and law developed on rmer bases. While this period
can be described as peaceful and quiet only by contrast, nevertheless the invading
Norsemen were everywhere adjusting and adapting themselves to the new
environment, to local customs, laws, and institutions. In Normandy they yielded their
own to the language and customs of the native people; in England they were becoming
Saxon; in Ireland-when they were not exterminated they became Celts, and in Scotland,
Scotch; while in Iceland they set up a free state and a legal system upon principles of
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 popular freedom far in advance of their time and in direct con ict with absolutist
tendencies then beginning to manifest themselves strongly in other parts of Europe.
Wherever they went, however, they left their impress on the country, its people, and its
institutions. A large percentage of place names and surnames in the Isle of Man, in
England, and in Scotland are Norse. Scores of place names about Dublin are
Scandinavian; and even the Celtic tongue enriched its vocabulary by many a word from
the Old Norse. I have searched for only a few, but they are signi cant, because they
deal with important concepts or institutions. The Celtic was rather rich in synonyms.
Many of these are of Scandinavian origin.
Among the Celtic words for each of the following-like a duckling in a ock of chicks—I
nd a word brought to Ireland by the Vikings: law, court, murder, strife, slave.
About 975 the last act in the dramatic epoch we call the Viking Age commences. Svein
Split-beard vows that he will conquer England, and the ocean again gleams and
sparkles with the long boats from the North. This scene ends with the coming of Canute
the Great as the ruler of England, who brought the Norseman and the Saxon together
where they could better see themselves as one people under one king. Then comes the
gradual assimilation of the invaders by the natives.
In England the Danes are at peace; in Russia the Norsemen mingle with the more
numerous Slavs; in Ireland the Scandinavians are steadily passing into the life of the
cities, while the native Irish dwell in the country; and in the islands between the
Scandinavian North and the British Isles the people are settling down. Lastly, after his
Norse kinsmen had long since ceased to harass the coast lines, the Duke of Normandy,
as if yielding to some atavistic impulse, sweeps over the Channel to rule an England
now Norse and Saxon. We have come to the end of the Viking Age, and the bold
characters who played upon its stage have answered their last call.
During this age, between A.D. 850 and 1000, in some place, but no one knows where,
the Hávamál was composed. This poem-one hundred sixty-six stanzas—is a part of a
collection of ancient Scandinavian verse which has come to us in manuscripts identi ed
with the name of a famous Icelandic priest who died in 1133. That this talented man had
anything to do with the collection, known since the sixteenth century as the Edda of
Seemund the Learned or Wise, some able scholars are inclined to doubt. Where it was
reduced to writing has also been the subject of learned debate, but that these
marvelous poems were preserved in Iceland and recorded in Old Icelandic is among the
few uncontested verities.
The Eddic poems, of which Hávamál ranks rst in dignity, are Homeric in the
timelessness of their vitality and power.
Theories, ideas, concepts, and interpretations concerning Homer and Hávamál come
and go from age to age, but both live on,
undimmed by the centuries and undiminished in their universal af nity with ne
intelligence and spiritual grace. In the sev-enty- rst stanza of Hávamal we nd clear
proof that the poem is not merely a mirror of a savage epoch, which, when the epoch
passes, loses in interest and is soon forgotten. The author, reminding us of Milton's
famous lines on his own blindness, says to the lame, the armless, the deaf, and the
blind that for them there is a de nite place, a particular use in life. Here, if proof were
needed, we nd the explicit exaltation of the things of the mind over the purely physical
side of man. The truly universal character of the central thought of this poem, its
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 unchanging validity in every age, clime, and condition, are the more impressive when
we recall that it was composed and recited in a period when physical prowess was
commonly held among the noblest gifts of men.
The word Hávamál means "words of the High One," who, of course, is none other than
Odin or Wotan, the most imposing gure of Norse mythology. This god was,
signi cantly, much more than a war deity. He was the symbol of the cultivated mind, of
the human intellect re ned by wide travels, elevated in wisdom because of meditation,
and mellowed by ripe experience. In short, Odin was the Roman Mercury. The poet,
with a guile worthy of other peoples and other times, seeks to impart authority to his
discourse by investing his teachings in the habilaments of divine speech; indeed, he
rather anticipates John Milton's claim, when, centuries later and per-haps with a tinge of
poetic license, the great poet said: "What does God then but reveal Himself, as His
manner is, rst to His Englishmen?" and, lest this be not impressive enough, he tells his
hearers that the wisdom of Odin was acquired only after travels the world over and trials
and experiences of a variety denied mortal men.
This poem is the Nichomachean Ethics of the North. Not in nished orderliness of
outline, not in elaboration of form, not in nicety of argument and demonstration, does it
parallel this great work of the Greek philosopher; yet the complete freedom from the
in uence of creed or religious doctrine upon the precepts stated, the simple thesis that
human nature is the bedrock on which the pillars of moral philosophy must rest, the
stern simplicity of the fundmental principles which should motivate human conduct, and
the ethical content of the composition entitle this poem to a place alongside the moral
philosophy of the triumvirate of Greece Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, but especially the
last of these three, for Plato found it dif cult wholly to free his thinking from the
dominating in uence of the super-natural. Hávamál has been chosen as the chief
source because it is regarded the most important evidence concerning the moral and
intellectual ideas of the Viking Age.
If climate and topography, in the course of the centuries, affect the modes of thought of
a people, how widely different should be the moral philosophies of the nations from the
south-lands and those of the inhabitants of the "frozen north," where stern mountains,
capped by eternal snows, raise gleaming peaks into coldly moonlit nights measured in
months rather than in hours. It is our purpose to compare the outlook upon life of the
ancient Greeks and of the Norsemen of old-to set down in comparison or contrast the
moral philosophies of these great but remotely separated peoples.
Some matters must, of necessity, be stated without close demonstration, but only such
as are believed to be generally accepted as established truths. In few elds is
dogmatism more objectionable than in that of philosophy, yet certain general statements
must be hazarded in the hope that they will not provoke serious debate.
Since search has disclosed no evidence to the contrary, we believe that the moral
philosophy of ancient Scandinavia was indigenous-was Norse and Germanic*^1 in
origin, and not consciously or directly borrowed from outside sources. That is to say, it
was a natural, a homogeneous growth which correctly disclosed the thinking of the
common people upon the deepest problems of life. It was a plant strictly of domestic
birth and growth, its form and its fragrance like the con guration of the country itself-the
normal and inevitable fruition of native forces.
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 Although the available sources of Old Norse philosophy, other than Hávamál*^2, are not
numerous, they are reliably complete. The sagas contain much direct and even more
indirect evidence of the principal points in this philosophy, as well as examples of its
in uence in daily life; and the Eddic poetry is the most direct and dependable proof that
the Vikings embraced a philosophy of life speci c in its content and explicit in formal
statement.
II
By contrast, the sources of Greek philosophy are numerous Aristotle may be regarded,
at least for our present purpose, one of the greatest expositors of the moral philosophy
of ancient Greece and the Ethics the chief source of that philosophy.
Whether Aristotle may correctly be regarded as speaking for the common people of
Greece is debatable, but that the system he evolved is supported by logic of almost
unparalleled vigor few competent critics will deny. It is probable that the Greeks loved
pleasure too ardently to be consistent followers of the precepts laid down by Aristotle,
and that this knowledge prompted him to say that it is not easy for men to follow the
path of virtue, but that is unimportant. He is, in any view, an able spokesman for a
certain system for over twenty centuries identi ed with the thought processes of ancient
Greece; and whatever contrasts or similarities may transpire when his system is set
alongside that of ancient Scandinavia (for most practical purposes almost as far away
as Mars) are bound to stir our imagination.
Aristotle's Ethics and Politics constitute together a single treatise which the author
himself has called "the philosophy of human affairs," although it is more commonly
described by him as political science. It falls naturally into the two divisions named, the
former dealing with individual and the latter with municipal or social man. Man's
character, as an individual, is the author's central theme in the Ethics; his connection
with his fellows and society in the state (city) is the chief topic of Politics; and both,
taken together, present the philosopher’s views on the subject of human conduct, other
than that which relates directly to truth or knowledge.
Life, to the Greeks, was not a meandering stream, owing in no xed direction and
toward no de nite or ascertainable end.
In order to realize its ideal possibilities, life must move toward an objective suf ciently
concrete for the imagination of the ordinary man to grasp. Human conduct, therefore,
was deemed to be motivated with this idealistic end in view—an end, never-theless,
which man could readily see in the distance before attaining it. It followed that the
nature of this objective must be clearly and correctly understood, for otherwise practical
conduct could not be appropriately determined in order to achieve it. Thus, we come to
an understanding of the stress laid, in Greek philosophy and in the Ethics, upon the
necessity of abundant and correct knowledge of the true objective of life and of the best
methods to attain it.
To the Greeks moral conduct meant simply reasonable con-duct; and the names of
Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle are usually associated with the idea that virtue is essential
to happiness.
Aristotle regarded all things as substance, natural, super-natural, and human, in
contrast with a type of modern ideal-ism-that all things are mind or states of mind.
Another noteworthy feature of Aristotle's system of moral philosophy is that it does not
depend for its validity upon the precepts of any religion. Its twin pillars are human nature
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 and human experience. On this starting point, Aristotle and the author of Hávamál are in
close accord.
Synoptically stated, the aim of life, in the Greek view, is happiness that which, as
Aristotle puts it, "is an object of choice always in itself, and never with a view to any
other." Aristotle is not satis ed by the naked conclusion that happiness is the aim of life.
His penetrating mind discerned readily that the inquiry must be pressed much farther.
Not only is it necessary that an answer be sought to the question, "When is a person
happy?" but it is essential that an examination be made into the problem, "What
constitutes the highest human excel-lence?" He did both, and the method of treatment
he pursued is too well known to make an attempted restatement here anything but
pedantic.
In Aristotle's view, happiness consisted essentially in a "kind of working of the soul in the
way of perfect excellence"; that happiness does not pertain to faculties; and that it
"belongs to the class of things precious and nal," for "with a view to it we all do
everything else that is to be done." Man is superior to all other creatures, says Aristotle,
because he has the capacity to think. Hence the greatest satisfaction or happiness lies
in the most complete development of this extraordinary endowment. To achieve the
highest excellence, good judgment, temperateness—i.e., self-control, balanced desires
and an artistic choice of means must be the mold in which the whole life is cast.
Excellence, in short, is not a state of harmless intent, of simplicity of mind or of
character; it is not glori ed prudery; it is not mere goodness which has never met and
overcome temptation; it is, rather the ripe result of experience, re ned in the personality
of a man who has most fully realized the powers of the supreme gift of thought.
This excellence is attained by a highroad laid out through the mazes of human affairs by
the reason of man. This path is not illumined by the ckle gleams of evanescent creeds;
and it is not traversed step by step through the complexities of religious dogma. This
great highway is the famous Mean, the median way between extremes, elaborated by
Aristotle, but foreshadowed by Socrates and Plato, which is always discernible through
the seasoned appraisal of pertinent conditions by the reasoning faculty.
Aristotle points out that the Greek word for habit of perfected self-mastery signi es that
which preserves practical wisdom; and practical wisdom was a concept referring to
knowledge of particular facts which comes only from experience, but not to knowledge
of rst principles.
Brie y put, the virtuous man is one whose will holds his conduct to the golden mean, in
accordance with the dictates of prudence and right reason, and who avoids excess or
defect of certain feelings or action in given circumstances. In summary, such a one is a
reasonable man.
Of the "great-minded" Aristotle has much to say. The great-minded man values himself
highly but justly; he "bears himself as he ought in respect of honor and dishonor," and
honor is
"the greatest of external goods," for we attribute it to the gods; he is at the summit and
he is in the mean; and honor is "special-ly the object matter" of the great-minded man.
He bears himself affably toward "people of middle station," but loftily toward the "great
or fortunate," and he asks favors reluctantly, but grants them liberally.
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 One of Aristotle's themes is friendship. Friendship is intimately connected with virtue
and "it is a thing most necessary for life, since no one would choose to live without
friends." It keeps the young from error, and among friends "justice is not required."
The conditions of friendship are explicitly stated. "Equality and similarity," frequent and
intimate association, exchange of favors and gifts, calling friends in "on occasion of
good for-tune," but reluctantly when misfortune strikes, and mutuality in "virtue" are
some of the well-known characteristics of true friendship. Then he concludes:
Therefore the Friendship of the wicked comes to be depraved; for, being unstable, they
share in what is bad and become depraved in being made like to one another; but the
Friendship of the good is good, growing with their intercourse; they improve also, as it
seems, by repeated acts, and by mutual correction, for they receive impress from one
another in the points which give them pleasures; whence says the poet,
"Thou from the good, good things shalt surely learn."
Practical wisdom, according to Aristotle, approaches perfection only as it develops
through experience. He does not believe that youth, because of inexperience, is a
pro table period in which to pursue far the paths of moral philosophy. Here a striking
parallel from Hávamál comes to mind. At the outset it is unmistakably suggested to the
listener that the High One spoke the words which are about to be repeated only after
ripe experience and wide travel had put upon them their approving seal. As the Greek
philosopher insisted that all his ultimate propositions in the Ethics must stand the test of
experience, so the Norse poet founded the sanctions of his moral teachings in the solid
ground of test and trial.
Now, let us look at Aristotle's superman. Let us stand him up where we can really see
him. He likes to be alone; he is never stirred to high admiration or marked vehemence,
for to him nothing is great and nothing is very important; he would rather render than
receive service or favors, for the grantor is in a position of superiority while the
bene ciary's case is the reverse; he speaks frankly, never ill save of enemies and then
only to them, and he is not talkative; he is his own best friend and never needlessly
exposes himself to danger; he has no part in public displays and cares not whether he
or others be praised or blamed; on proper occasion he will incur grave risks, for he
knows that "there are terms on which it is not worth while to live"; he does not feel
malice, forgets wrongs to himself, and accepts the accidents and incidents of life with
digni ed com-posure, always making the most of them.
Aristotle has here portrayed an admirable but a rather coldly ideal gure; and it is
understandable why he said that it was not easy to live the life of virtue he laid out for
his fellow-men.
Indeed, knowing what most of us do of ourselves, it seems likely that we might at times
nd it trying had we to live steadily with this man.
III
In extracting the moral philosophy of ancient Scandinavia from the Hávamál the
arrangement of the stanzas, as commonly made in the standard texts, must be ignored.
The presentation is far from orderly and, in this respect, cannot be compared with the
Ethics of Aristotle. It is suggested, however, that the reporters who, anciently, recorded
the poems may have disar-ranged the original plan of the author, for Hávamál was long
preserved in human memory, and passed from one generation to another by word of
mouth before it was reduced to writing.
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The order in which the content is here presented has, therefore, nothing to do with the
structural plan of the poem as we know it today.
The moral philosophy of ancient Scandinavia, as presented in Hávamál, is, like that of
the Greeks, wholly independent of religious dogma. As heretofore said, it is grounded in
human nature. This conclusion cannot be supported by proof without extensive
quotations. Indeed, as in the Ethics, this opinion is not formed until the main points in
the treatise have been examined and their common connection and purpose perceived
from a view of the whole.
Near the opening of Hávamal, as we now have it, we nd the Norse concept of
happiness and at least one of its essential ele-ments. It is said in stanza eight: "Happy is
he who obtains leave for action only from himself and has acquired helpful lore." The
phrase lof og liknstafni is, I think, mistranslated "fair fame and kindly words" in the
translation of Edda by Olive Bray, excellent though this translation is in most respects.
Lof, in one of its meanings, is "praise," but, in another, it is "leave"; and liknstafni is
really a compound word, the rst part of which meant "comforting," "remedial," "tending
to relief or mercy," and the second part meant "learning" or "wisdom," clearly not
"kindly words." What the author means is this: he is happy who is his own master and
has acquired practically useful knowledge or wisdom. In short, this stanza closely
approximates the practical wisdom of Aristotle. This is the theory of Dr. G. Finnbogason
concerning the proper interpretation of these stanzas, and on this point I agree with
him.*^3

Another admissible rendition, suggested by Dr. George T. Flom*^4 which, however,

does not essentially differ from what has been said above is that the author does not
refer to the actual words of praise, but rather to those qualities which earn for their
possessors the respect of their fellow-men. In addition to mere prowess in war, that
which was most calculated to bring praise in the Viking Age was a character combining
and illustrating self-reliance, courage, loyalty, and wisdom.
The essence of the quoted stanza, concisely put, is that the rst requisite of happiness
is complete self-mastery, an independence of mind and action which chooses the
simplest life, even extreme poverty, with personal freedom from in uence or control by
any force other than the individual himself.
That this was the life-philosophy of the Scandinavians of the Viking Age is abundantly
attested by authentic illustrations from the sagas. An independence of mind, so decisive
as to seem harshly proud, so often appears that the casual reader, who has not become
acquainted with the main elements of Scandinavian moral philosophy, naturally
concludes that the Norsemen were a haughty, proud, and arrogant race. To what extent
this conclusion may be correct is outside the province of our discussion; the point is
mentioned in passing because in daily life, as well as in the customary and statutory
law, philosophy was no ideal or purely scholastic abstraction-its in uence was real and
its vitalizing power traceable in individual conduct and institutional character. Neither at
the bar of formal justice nor that of public opinion was the way made easy for him who
would dodge personal responsibility. Two illustrations from the law must suf ce. Under
the Gulathings Law of Norway (a collection of ancient Norwegian laws recently
translated by Dr. L. M. Larsons*^5), and the somewhat earlier customary law in the
Icelandic Grágás, the bailee of animals and other property was personally responsible
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for their safe return to the owner, without regard, save in rare cases, to the fact that the
property was lost or damaged in circumstances which in our day would almost
universally be accepted in law as completely exculpatory.
Again, in the customary law of Iceland, presumably codi ed and approved by the
parliament of that country in A.D. 930, the individual was in certain circumstances in
duty bound to set the machinery of punitive justice in motion in order to insure the due
punishment of offenders. As a member of society he owed a duty which he was
expected faithfully to perform.
The self-mastery of which Aristotle speaks, implying personal accountability, demands
knowledge in order to be effectively operative in the direction of attaining the goal of
happiness.
The notion of "choice worthiness," and the capacity to make a sound selection of paths
to follow, predicates knowledge and the will to pursue the course which the nger post
of knowledge points out. In the stanzas quoted above and in the fth from Hávamál, the
same thought is strikingly presented. It is not enough, we are told, that the individual be
complete master of himself, his feelings, and his inclinations; wisdom is likewise
necessary. In stanza ve it is expressly said: "wisdom is neces-sary." The author of
Hávamal leaves no doubt concerning his estimate of the value of wisdom. It is better
than wealth, for wealth may go in the twinkling of an eye; and it is comparable to the
unwavering friend whose sympathy and counsel we seek before we act, and which we
must have in order to live the complete life. The meaning is, obviously, that man must
ceaselessly take counsel of wisdom, to put the matter into common phrase, in order to
attain happiness.
Except for the comparative obscureness caused by the fact that Hávamal is really
recorded in syllabic form, the striking parallels between the Ethics and these Old Norse
poems in regard to the essential points of their respective moral philosophies would be
obvious. It gives rise to interesting speculation when we ask the question by what
process of reasoning the Norsemen would have supported the conclusions reached
independently a thousand years after the great Greek philosopher elaborately reasoned
to the same end.
According to the Norse poems man is, by nature and neces-sity, a social creature. The
Greeks, as has been seen, laid strong emphasis on the proposition that man is a
gregarious or social animal. The need for human association, for friends, is one of the
imperatives of man's nature. In stanza fty of Hávamál the lonely destiny of the solitary
man is likened to the fate of a r tree standing alone; and in stanza forty-seven the lone
wanderer accounts himself wealthy when he nds an associate.
It is not surprising that the Norse poet should emphasize the contribution wide travels
make to man's capacity to lead a wise and useful life. The Vikings were world-travelers,
despite the fact that the hazards and dif culties of journeys away from their homes were
almost beyond our comprehension. In the
eighteenth stanza the author tells us that narrow is the view and dull is the wit of him
who always lives at home, for only can one who has "fared on the way" understand life
and appreciate the mental qualities of a man "wise of head and heart." Essentially we
have here, again, emphasis upon the value of experience in the development of
practical wisdom.
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 Let me now try by paraphrase to place before you the ideal man of Hávamál, so that
you may compare or contrast him with the ideal man as Aristotle paints him in the
Nichomachean Ethics. His aim is happiness, but before that end is attained many
conditions must be met and many dif culties overcome.
In order to qualify himself so as to reach the goal, he must be equipped with certain
qualities which he alone can cultivate and maintain in unimpaired integrity. Essentially,
he must carry with him a burden of wisdom, for then he will learn to be temperate in all
things, but especially in the use of food and ale, for excessive indulgence impairs the
thought processes and undermines his self-control. Yet he will not seek excessively to
know the future, for that knowledge does not lead to happiness.
He will be cautious, realizing that enemies may lurk anywhere; and he will guard his
speech, keep his own counsels, and listen attentively. He does not rejoice in evil tidings,
but is happy over good report; and he is gentle to the poor and the weak, and ridicules
not the hapless wanderer. He controls his spirit and is not too mild or too quick to anger.
He will be liberal with what he has, and he will be of a cheery and carefree disposition,
because the foolish man lies awake thinking about his troubles, only to rise in the
morning and nd himself less competent to deal with them. (This parallels Aristotle's
thought that the capacity for rest and unweariness is an attribute of the highest
happiness.)
Our ideal man is courageous, but mild mannered; and he knows that there are
conditions on which life is not worth living as when he has lost the regard of his fellow-
men. He does not mock or nd fault, for he knows that he is not himself fault-less; nor
does he boast, because tests (deeds) are the only safe proof of worth. He is unmoved
by attery; he knows that man is insigni cant, and that those who court him most will
desert him rst in time of need; he needs and appreciates good friends, for man is
man's joy. He uses his power sparingly. He does not take to his bosom the friend of his
foe, and friends who turn false he pays in the same coin—i.e., he does not tell them the
whole truth or let them know that he is aware of their per dy. He is generous and he
brings gifts, and he knows that material wealth is the most unstable of friends. Among
his great blessings he reckons sons, relatives, moderate wealth, and good deeds.
Yet this man must be free; therefore he must have enough wealth to make him
independent of others. In his home every man is a dignitary-halr es heima hver. This
striking stanza and the whole notion of the well-rounded man not only reminds one of
the famous Anglo-Saxon idea that every man's home is his castle, but of Solon's less-
known assertion that the happy man is moderately supplied with external goods, has
achieved noble deeds, and has lived complete master of himself. With this concept of
the happy man Aristotle expressly agrees.
He minds his own business, for each one knows best the t of his own shoe, but the
misfortunes of another he makes his own, and he has capacity for that holy indignation-
we now call it contempt-which upright men feel burning within them when they see the
suffering of friends, neighbors, even strangers, brought on by the meanness or per dy
of others. That this sentiment vitalized the lives and the relations of men in the Viking
Age the sagas abundantly testify.
Lastly, he lives a life without shame, realizing, in disagreement with Shakespeare, that
good repute never dies, though all else save evil reputation must perish from this earth.
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 It appears that the poet here tells his listeners what Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle had
told the Greeks a thousand years be-fore, that virtue the mean or median state of the
passions is essential to happiness and the complete life.
The demand of self-mastery which Aristotle makes of his superman is one of the most
dif cult to ful l in all imaginable human situations. Put bluntly, as he puts it, the ordinary
man is inclined to despair of ever attaining even an approximation of this noble
objective. At rst glance, Hávamál seems less exacting on this point, but on closer study
it is not certain that the ideal man of Norse philosophy is much nearer the very frail and
very human reality of the man who walks in weakness down the wavering path of life,
often against a will which suggests a nobler road.
It would probably offend the philosopher to speak of a philosophy of love, so I shall not
do so. In some of love's more extreme and violent manifestations, Aristotle expected his
countrymen to subject it to the habit of perfected self-mastery.
The Greeks and the Norsemen seem to have thought alike upon some aspects of the
grand passion and of its human agents. The Greeks described Venus as that "Cyprus
born goddess, weaver of deceits." In Hávamál the poet admonishes man that he cannot
trust the words of a woman because the truth is not in her; and that love makes fools of
wise men as often as it does of those less wise. To guard against the charge of bias, he
warns the maid that men speak fairest when their hearts are full of guile, and that
toward women men are full of wiles.
All of which can be summarized in the statement that even in those days love was a
game of guile; and this Odin well knew, for he had much experience and had traveled
widely.
The author of the Old Norse system enjoins upon the ideal man the necessity, if he
would be happy and honored in life and in death, to control his appetites, his temper, his
tongue, his natural impulse to abuse power- in short, to choose the median way which
wisdom follows, because wisdom knows life's objective and the way to attain it. Where
Aristotle generalizes and then particularizes by specifying the passions which must not
be permitted to sway man too far off the golden mean, the Norse author enumerates the
chief dangers which beset man and tells him to subject his catalogued inclinations to a
rational curb.
The Greeks possessed greater powers of generalization, if we accept Aristotle as their
spokesman and representative; the Norsemen speci ed and enumerated; but both dealt
with the same human passions, the same human nature, and enjoined the same duty to
eschew excesses and follow a rational middle course. As the Scandinavian law of this
period has come down to us, we note this same tendency to particularize the
circumstances which shall constitute crimes or give rise to legal rights, as distinguished
from the practice of general statement which tends to characterize the growth of the law
as men acquire experience in drafting, decreeing, or administering it. The capacity to
generalize is, of course, one of the marks of intellectual advance. It must also be noted
that early language did not always possess the words which the thinker in broad and
profound abstractions needed as tools for his limitless genius. It is profoundly signi cant
that the men of the Viking Age thought upon the problems of life and living much as did
Solomon, Solon, Aristotle, and, indeed, the great thinkers whose despotic sway over all
succeeding ages never has been and probably never will be broken. There is no greater
autocrat, no more unrelenting despot than a book or a poem, be it but composed in the
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 divine light of godlike genius. No statute, no decree, no revolution can break the chains
it forges upon the human intellect. It is as if the book and the mind which bore it had
taken possession of the sun and henceforth all who need warmth and light must come
to them, like beggars seeking alms.
Such a source of light emerged in the north, in the south, in the east, in the west-
wherever indigenous cultures have happily wedded mind and muscle into a way of life. I
offer no solution for others. To me it is the spontaneous combustion of the human spirit,
bursting into ame on the higher plateaus of human thought, giving off identical heat,
light, and power in places remotely separated in space and time. Perhaps the in nite
occasionally condescends to lay before us mortal and short-visioned creatures proof
that the spirit of man, in its loftiest ights, is united in a common kinship with the
immeasurable forces of the universe. Solomon, Aristotle, an anonymous Norseman
ponder life and death, and their mighty spirits nd a common answer. Allow the
groveling soul to look for plagiarism; allow the vain man to seek proof that thought is but
the child of some vague "in uence" he traces to the land of his fathers; allow, however,
men of another mold to see in this fact a sublime suggestion of a unity which binds all
the fundamental spiritual forces that move men when they are least like the lower
animals.

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS

*^1 ”The German historians have for years been in the habit of telling us that the Nordic
people are part of the Germanic race and that they originated in the plains of Germany,
but the Nordic people had little in common with the Celtic and Slavonic races in
Germany, excepting the relationship which Snorre Sturlason alleges to exist between
them. .... It is, however, generally acknowledged that over-population in the barren
countries of the north was the cause of many Scandinavians settling in North Germany,
after the invasions by the Goths and Huns had spent their force. This mixture of races
has made the Germans the most intellectual people in Europe. After the passing of the
Viking Age the German people in their turn commenced exercising a great in uence
upon the customs and manners of the Scandinavian peoples, and many Germans
settled in the north. Before that time the Nordic people had for centuries developed their
race in the hard and frosty climate of the northern countries, among their mountains,
fjords and extensive coast lines, and it was in these surroundings that the people
acquired their strong physique, their sea sense and independence of char-acter. It was
also here that the Nordic mythology became rmly established." P. xxi, Introduction to
Heimskringla, or The Lives of the Norse Kings, by Snorre Sturlason, edited by Erling
Monsen and translated by him with the assistance of A. H. Smith (Cambridge, England,
1932). For remarkable illustrations of parallelisms in the underlying ethical concepts of
two distinct and remote systems of mythology— the Norse and the Persian-see
Johnson, Pioneers of Freedom (Boston, 1930), pP. 147, 151.

*^2 One of the better English translations of Hávamál is that of Olive Bray in the Elder or
Poetic Edda (London: Printed for the Viking Club, 1908). Although the translator
evidences a measure of poetic talent and has, on the whole, performed a dif cult task
with exceptional success, there are errors which sometimes rob the original text of its
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truly profound signi cance. Among such, mention may be made of stanzas 28, 29, and
36. While the author of this article has consulted this translation and others, the
conclusions offered are based upon his own reading of the text of Hávamál in the
original Norse or Old Icelandic.

*^3 As far as the author of this article knows, a well-known Icelandic scholar, Dr.
G. Finnbogason, head of the National Library, Reykjavik, Iceland, is the only person
who heretofore has drawn attention to the striking parallels in the moral philosophies of
Greece and ancient Scandinavia. In Skirnir (journal of the Icelandic Literary So-ciety),
Vol. CIII (Reykjavik, 1929), he compares the "Life Philosophies of Hávamál and
Aristotle" in a brief but scholarly article.

*^4 Professor of Scandinavian languages and English philology, University of Illinois.

*^5 L. M. Larson, The Earliest Norwegian Laws (New York, 1935).

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