In common with the other Aryan races, the ancient Scandinavians recognised, as the basis of their religion, certain supernatural, usually unseen, powers ruling the world and exercising an influence on the affairs of mankind. In the ideas which prevailed as to the nature of these powers certain correspondences can be clearly traced in the various Aryan religions, in spite of the fact that our knowledge of them dates from widely different periods of history. Even the Romans, when they came into contact with the Germanic races, noticed some of the similarities, and applied the names of several of their own deities to the corresponding figures among the barbarian gods. When closer intercourse between Roman and German had established itself, the result of these equations was made prominent in the names adopted by the latter for the days of the week, several of which, in most of the Germanic tongues, still bear witness to the old religion of the race. Thus the counterpart of the Roman Mars was found in the god Tiw, and consequently dies Martis was rendered by forms now represented in English by Tuesday. In the same way the Roman Mercurius, Jupiter, and Venus were identified with the Germanic gods called by the English Wóden, Thunor, and Fríg, whence the names of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. In making these equations, of course, neither German nor Roman did more than consider the most obvious points of resemblance between the deities; how close the correspondence actually was in each case it is impossible to say, as we know so little of the precise form which the native religion had among the southern Germans. It is only to a certain extent that the details suggested by these translations of the Roman names are supported by the evidence from the Scandinavian side, but it is extremely probable that some of the more striking discrepancies are due to difference in time as well as in place and people.

The three gods and the goddess whose names are thus commemorated in the days of the week hold also a prominent place among the Scandinavian deities, where they appear under the names of Ty (Týr), Odin (Óðinn), Thor (þórr), and Frigg. But while Odin and Thor actually hold the place which they might be expected to occupy as objects of worship, the warlike deity Ty has apparently become of secondary importance. This is indicated not only by the native Scandinavian evidence, but also by what can be gleaned from external sources. In an Old English sermon¹ by the Abbot Ælfric, about the year 1000, the mention of some of the Roman deities leads the preacher to introduce the corresponding Danish names. Jove or Jupiter, he says, 'was called Thor among some peoples, and him the Danes love most of all.' Mercury, too, 'was honoured among all the heathens, and he is otherwise called Othon in Danish.' Of Ty there is no mention, although Mars is one of the Roman deities specified by name. In another homily by Ælfric there is the same identification of Thor and Odin, along with 'the foul goddess Venus, whom men call Frigg,' but here also Ty is ignored.

More than merely negative evidence, however, is supplied by another outside source, which is the leading contemporary account of Scandinavian religion, viz. that given by the German historian, Adam of Bremen (about the year 1075), in his description of the great temple of the Swedes at Upsala, and of the gods worshipped there. Here he writes, 'the people venerate the statues of three gods, so placed that the most powerful of them, Thor, has his seat in the middle of the bench. On either side of him Wodan and Fricco have their places. Of these the significations are as follows. Thor, they say, presides in the air, and governs thunder and lightning, winds and rains, fair weather and crops. The next, Wodan, that is "Fury," carries on wars and gives men valour against their enemies. The third is Fricco, bestowing peace and pleasure upon mortals.' The image of Wodan, he adds, resembled that of the Roman Mars; that of Thor suggested Jupiter, while Fricco was represented in a form resembling the minor deity Priapus.

The god here called Fricco was known to the Scandinavians themselves by the name of Frey (Freyr), and that the triad thus specified by Adam were in fact the chief deities worshipped in the later stages of Scandinavian religion is abundantly proved by the native evidence. The identification of Odin with Mars in place of Mercury is also in full accordance with the later beliefs: in other words, Odin has taken the place of Ty as the chief war-god. Whether this was the main reason for the admission of Frey as third member of the supreme triad is uncertain, the earlier position of this god being altogether unknown. Thor, it will be noticed, still retains his place as the counterpart of the Roman Jupiter, and stands between the other two gods, as being the most powerful. The precise relationship, however, between Thor and Odin is not by any means so simple as this statement would suggest, and forms indeed one of the most difficult questions connected with the subject. This will be most clearly brought out by a detailed account of the relative place assigned to each of them in religious practice on the one hand, and in mythological accounts on the other; and the most correct impression of the facts will probably be obtained by dealing first with Thor.

The pre-eminence assigned to this god by Ælfric and Adam of Bremen is quite in accordance with what can fairly be inferred from the native historical sources. A considerable number of passages in the sagas yield combined proof that by the people at large Thor was regarded as the chief deity, at least in Norway and Iceland: for Sweden and Denmark the evidence is less conclusive, but seems to point in the same direction. It is of great significance, for example, that in all the Scandinavian countries the name of Thor is the one which is most frequently used as a formative element in the names of persons (such as Thor-kell, Stein-thor), and these were evidently quite as common in Sweden and Denmark as in Norway and Iceland. On the other hand, the name of Odin is scarcely ever employed, only one or two instances being found among the Danes and Swedes. Names with Frey- as their first element are more frequent, but are in small proportion compared with those in Thor-. In Danish and Swedish place-names, too, the predominance of Thor is very marked, although Odin and Frey are better represented here than in the case of the personal names. In Norway and Iceland place-names of this kind are rare, but Thorsness and Thorsmark occur in the latter country. The frequency with which Thor's hammer (see below) is represented on Danish and Swedish runic monuments, and the occurrence on ancient Danish stones of the formula 'May Thor hallow this monument' (or 'these runes'), also indicate that the position of this deity was much the same among all branches of the Scandinavian people. In Denmark, too, there are distinct traces of a tendency to hold local assemblies on the day named after the god; in Iceland this was the day on which the famous Al-thing (the legal and legislative assembly of the whole people) began every year, ten weeks after the first day of summer, and in Norway the great law-assembly of the western districts also began its meetings on a Thursday.

For Norway and Iceland there is a considerable amount of more direct evidence than this. In several of the Icelandic historical writings it is expressly stated that some of the leading colonists had a special regard for Thor and his worship. Of one who came from the island of Mostr, on the south-western coast of Norway, it is told that he had the custody of Thor's temple there, and was a 'great friend' of the god, on which account he was called Thorolf (=Thor-wolf). This Thorolf fell out with King Harald, and went to inquire of Thor, 'his loving friend,' whether he should make terms with the king or leave the country. The oracle directed him to go to Iceland. He pulled down the temple, and took with him most of the timber, as well as the earth from under the pedestal on which Thor had been seated. On coming near Iceland, he threw overboard the two chief pillars of the temple, on one of which the image of Thor was carved, and declared he would settle wherever Thor made these come ashore. After landing on the south side of Broadfirth, they found that Thor had come ashore with the pillars on a headland, to which they then gave the name of Thor's-ness, while a river in the neighbourhood was also named after the god. When this Thorolf had a son in his old age, he gave him to his friend Thor, and called him Thorstein. Thorstein also gave his own son to Thor, 'and said he should be a temple-priest, and called him Thorgrim.' Another son of Thorolf's sacrificed to Thor, that he might send him pillars for his house, 'and gave his son for this,' which probably means that he also dedicated his son to the god, though one account appears to imply that he actually offered him in sacrifice.

Of another settler, Helgi the Lean, who was brought up in Ireland, it is stated that when he came in sight of Iceland, he inquired of Thor where he should land; the oracle directed him to Eyafirth, and would allow him to go nowhere else. Before they came in sight of the firth, Helgi's son asked him whether he would have obeyed Thor's directions if he had sent him to winter in the Arctic Ocean. Yet Helgi was not absolutely devoted to Thor, as he also believed in Christ, and even called his Icelandic homestead by the name of Christness. It was to Thor, however, that he turned for aid in sea-faring and difficult enterprises, and in all matters that he considered to be of most importance.

Thorolf and Helgi were not the only settlers who allowed Thor to fix the place of their habitation in Iceland, and one in the south of the island also consecrated all his land to Thor and called it Thor's-mark. The tendency to appeal to Thor for help in time of need is further illustrated by an incident recorded as having taken place during the Wineland expedition of 1007-8. The explorers were in great straits for want of food, and had prayed for help, which seemed long in coming. One of the party, named Thorhall, was found by the others on the peak of a cliff, looking up to the sky, and muttering something, besides making strange gestures of which he would give no explanation. Shortly afterwards a whale came ashore, and Thorhall said, 'The red-bearded one was stronger now than your Christ. I have got this for my poetry that I made about Thor. He has seldom failed me.'

This contrasting of Thor with Christ is a trait which appears in other narratives, and is significant of the place which the god held in the old religion. In the struggle between heathenism and Christianity in the Scandinavian countries it is usually Thor, the red-bearded one, who is the champion of the primitive faith and its most powerful representative. The cases in which Odin takes this place have a much more legendary character, and are more likely to be due to later invention. It was Thor whom the believers in the old faith expressly put forward as a rival to the God of the Christians. In the early part of the eleventh century, when King Olaf Haraldsson was doing his utmost to christianise Norway, the following words are represented as having been spoken by a powerful chief named Gudbrand: 'There is come hither a man named Olaf to offer us another faith than the one we had, and to break all our gods in pieces, and he says that he has a greater and mightier god. It is a marvel that the earth does not open under him when he dares to say such things, and that our gods let him go any further. I expect, if we carry Thor out of our temple where he stands, and where he has always stood by us, that as soon as he looks on Olaf and his men, then his god and himself and his men will melt away and come to nought.' So also when Thangbrand the priest went to Iceland on his missionary enterprise in 997, he met a woman who preached heathendom to him at great length, and asked him, 'Have you not heard that Thor challenged Christ to single combat, and He dared not fight with Thor?' When Thangbrand's ship was destroyed by a violent storm, it was to Thor that the credit of the accident was assigned.

The firm hold which Thor had upon the minds of his worshippers is also illustrated by the way in which some of the converts to Christianity felt uneasy at abandoning him. Thorgils of Flói, in the south-west of Iceland, was one of the first to accept the new faith, and more than once he dreamed that Thor came to him with reproaches and threats for this desertion. Thorgils was firm, and defied the angry god, but his later perils at sea were believed by his companions to be the work of Thor, and some of them even wished to sacrifice to him for a fair wind, saying that people had fared much better when they made offerings to him.

The prominent place held by the worship of Thor in the old religion is also indicated by the frequent mention of images of the god in various temples (as will appear in a later chapter); this fact acquires special significance when contrasted with the lack of similar statements regarding Odin. It is also extremely probable that it was Thor, and not Odin, to whom the vague names of 'Land-god' (Land-áss) and 'The Almighty God' were given; the latter was used, coupled with the names of Frey and Njörd, in an old oath-formula.

Having thus made the position of Thor among the Scandinavian gods as clear as the evidence admits of, it remains to show what manner of god his worshippers supposed him to be. On this point there is unfortunately less direct evidence than could be wished. In origin Thor was the thunder-god, and it is therefore natural to find him spoken of as 'the strongest of all the gods.' His weapon, the thunderbolt, was imagined as a hammer, mythologically known by the name of Mjölnir, and was especially used by him to protect the gods and men against giants and other evil monsters. To grasp it with he had iron gloves, and he was also possessed of a girdle of might which increased his strength twofold. In his journeys, of which the mythological writers have a good deal to say, he sometimes rode in a chariot drawn by two goats. Of these details there is very little trace in historical sources, although one passage (of doubtful value) speaks of an image of Thor seated in his chariot. The hammer, however, was certainly the distinctive symbol of the god, and representations of it were evidently in common use as sacred and protective marks. Not only is it frequently cut on stone monuments, but small figures of it were apparently used as amulets, of which a number have been found in Denmark and Sweden. When the Danish prince Magnus returned from an expedition into the heathen districts of Sweden in 1123, he brought back with him as trophies some Thor's hammers of metal. It is not clear how far such models of the hammer were used in religious ceremonies; that it was employed at weddings 'to hallow the bride' appears to be highly probable, but there is no direct historical evidence to prove it.

The form in which the hammer was commonly represented easily led to its association with the Christian mark of the cross. At a festival held in Norway in 952, Earl Sigurd dedicated the first toast to Odin, and after drinking from the horn handed it to King Hákon, who was a Christian. When the king took it, he made the mark of the cross over it. The heathens present protested against this, and Earl Sigurd attempted to satisfy them by saying, 'The king does like all those who trust to their own might and strength, and consecrate their toast to Thor. He made the mark of the hammer over it before he drank.'

The relationship of Thor to Odin, and the precise position of the latter among the Scandinavian gods, must now be more closely considered. In the sermon by Ælfric already cited there is an interesting remark bearing on this, in these words: 'Now the Danes in their delusion say that Jove, whom they call Thor, was the son of Mercury, whom they call Odin, but they are not right in this' (i.e. according to Roman mythology)² Ælfric's statement is in perfect accordance with the old Scandinavian myths, which represent Thor as the son of Odin and Earth, a relationship also attested by various poetical designations of the god. This is not at all what the historical evidence would lead us to expect, but the mythological account of Odin presents a still more striking contrast to what has been brought forward above as to the position of Thor. 'Odin,' says Snorri, 'is the highest and eldest of the gods; he rules over all things, and for as mighty as the other gods are, they all serve him as children do their father.... Odin is called All-father, because he is the father of all the gods.'

It is indeed quite clear that the whole mythological system expounded by Snorri, and implied in all the old Scandinavian poetry, centres on the idea of Odin as the supreme god. As such he has two important sides to his nature. On the one hand he is a war-god, who assigns victory or defeat to men, and who takes the slain warriors to live with himself in Valhall; 'he is also called Val-father, because all those who fall in battle are his chosen sons: to them he gives places in Valhall and Vingolf,' says Snorri. On the other hand he is a god of wisdom and cunning, knowing all things, and a god of poetry whom the skalds regard as the author of their art. So far as the historical evidence is strong enough to prove anything regarding Odin, it indicates that a belief in both of those aspects was really a part of the old religion. We have already seen that Adam of Bremen describes Odin as the war-god among the Swedes, and Snorri also says that the Swedes thought he often appeared to them before great battles; 'to some he gave victory, and some he invited to himself, and either lot was thought good.' This association of Odin with war, and the assignation to him of all those who were slain in battle, are very prominent in the mythical sagas, which may be accepted as representing a genuine tradition in this respect, however much the details may be due to later invention. In these sagas one also finds the connection of Odin with death by hanging, which appears in some of his poetic names, and must be regarded as a real belief.

The purely historical evidence is, however, very limited. Perhaps the only mention of an actual offering to Odin is that found in the account of Earl Hákon's doings after he had, under compulsion, accepted Christianity in Denmark in 975. On leaving that country, he sailed round to the east coast of Sweden, landed there, and made a great sacrifice. 'Then two ravens came flying and croaked loudly, and the earl thought it certain that Odin had accepted the sacrifice, and that he would have success in fighting.' It is very probable, however, that sacrifices to this god were more common among the Danes and Swedes than among the Norwegians, and that this may account for the lack of reference to them in the Icelandic writings.

That the belief in Valhall was a real one is clearly shown by one or two passages in the sagas. King Hákon the Good had been a Christian, though latterly he had not made his religion prominent, in order to avoid offending his heathen subjects. When he was killed in battle in 961, he was laid in the grave-mound with all his weapons and best array. 'They made such speeches at his burying as it was the custom of heathen men to make, and sent him off on the way to Valhall.' A poem on Hákon's death and his reception by Odin in Valhall, which was composed at the time by one of his skalds, gives a very fine expression to the belief, which is also the leading theme in an earlier poem on the death of King Eirík in 954. Even some who had not been killed in battle were apparently thought of as going to Odin in Valhall, if the passage in the saga of Gísli may be relied upon, in which Thorgrím is represented as saying, 'It is the custom to tie hell-shoes on men when they shall go to Valhall, and I will do that with Véstein' (who had been murdered in his bed). There is also a reference to the belief in Njál's saga, in the words of Högni, 'I intend to take the halbert to my father' (Gunnarr, who had been killed shortly before this), 'and let him have it to Valhall and bear it there at the weapon-thing.' The same saga also represents Earl Hákon in Norway, when he found his temple burned down, as saying, 'The man who has done this will be driven away from Valhall, and never get entrance there.' It is doubtful, however, whether much weight can be given to these passages. The old practice of beginning a battle by throwing a spear over the enemy is in some of the mythical sagas explained as a dedication of them to Odin, and it is possible that this idea may be correct.

It is remarkable that in the Icelandic sources there is no clear evidence for a general worship of Odin in Norway or Iceland. In his account of the old festivals Snorri states that the first toast which went round was consecrated to Odin, and was drunk 'for victory and for power to their king.' And he also says that at the festival at Hladir in 952 Earl Sigurd 'consecrated the first toast to Odin.' The accuracy of Snorri's account has been questioned, but even if it is correct, it does not definitely establish Odin's position in popular belief. Among the Icelanders themselves there is nothing like the same evidence to show that Odin was generally held in esteem and veneration as there is in the case of Thor; and it is noticeable that in the few cases where a belief in, and reliance on, Odin are expressed, the speaker is usually a poet. Thus Egil Skallagrímsson, when he had suffered at the hands of King Eirík (about 934), expresses in a verse his wish that 'the gods and Odin' may be angry with the king: in the second half of the verse Frey and Njörd are also mentioned by name. The poet Hallfred, who accepted Christianity in Norway in 996, makes several references in his verses to his former worship of Odin, but in words which clearly indicate that his capacity of skald had much to do with this. When he was afterwards accused of being still a heathen, it was the possession of 'an image of Thor' which formed one of the charges against him. It is, however, stated that previous to their becoming Christians Hallfred and his companions made a vow 'to give much money to Frey if they reached Sweden, or to Thor and Odin if they got to Iceland.' Kjartan Olafsson is also made to speak of Thor and Odin together, and Odin (along with Freyja) is specified in the abusive verse by Hjalti Skeggjason (999), which led to his prosecution for blasphemy against the gods. On the other hand there is no mention in any saga of any temple, image, or special priest of Odin in any part of Iceland.

That the attribution of the art of poetry to Odin, and his consequent position as the special god of poets, was no mere conventional figment of the skalds is best attested by Egil's poem on the loss of his sons. Towards the end of this the poet expresses his resentment against 'the lord of the spear,' in whom he had confidently trusted before he sent this loss upon him, and so destroyed the friendship between them. Now he has no pleasure in worshipping Odin, 'yet,' he adds, 'Mimir's friend has given me recompense for my woes: he gave me an art' (that of poetry) 'free from fault and stain.'

As the above will show, there is a real difficulty in reconciling the historical statements as to the worship of Odin and Thor with the relative positions assigned to them in the old mythology. The explanation which seems to clear away this difficulty in the most satisfactory manner is the suggestion that Thor and Odin really belong to different stages in the development of Scandinavian religion. On this view Thor was originally the chief god, and to a certain extent continued to hold this position to the end. His supremacy, however, was in the later period of heathenism seriously threatened by the growing cult of Odin, which was at first foreign to the Scandinavian peoples, and was received by them from the South Germanic races. This would easily account for the seemingly greater popularity of Odin among the Danes and Swedes than among the Norwegians and Icelanders, to whom the new cult would be later in spreading. In this connection it may be noted that some of the poetic names for Odin, such as 'the friend of the Gauts,' 'Tyr of the Gauts' (as well as the simple Gauti and Gautr), appear to indicate that his worship was associated with the people of that name in southern Sweden. It was in Gautland that the poet Hallfred was nearly sacrificed to Odin in 997, and here also in 1018 the poet Sigvat was refused admission to a farm where a sacrifice was taking place, because they 'were afraid of Odin's anger.' It may even be significant that Earl Hákon's sacrifice already mentioned was performed on the coast of Gautland.

The ninth and tenth centuries were a period of new development and great changes within the Scandinavian countries. The Viking expeditions brought a large part of the population into direct contact with war and battle, while the former petty kings disappeared, or lost most of their importance, before strong rulers like Gorm in Denmark or Harald in Norway. In the courts of these new sovereigns there was a life and splendour previously unknown in the north, and under the royal favour the art of poetry flourished to a remarkable extent. It appears fairly certain that in these surroundings the cult of Odin found most favour, and that the conceptions of the god which meet us in the mythology were developed among men who found a pleasure both in fighting and in poetry, and who modelled their ideas of the warlike deity on the monarch to whose court they attached themselves. Odin was thus the god of the warrior, the poet, and the friend of kings, while Thor retained his former place in the hearts of those who still followed the old way of life in the secluded valleys of Norway or Iceland. Something of this distinctly appears in the figures of the two gods as they are presented in the old poems and legends. Odin bears all the stamp of the new life and culture about him; Thor is rather a sturdy yeoman of the old unpolished type. Odin is a ruler in whom knowledge and power are equally combined; Thor has little more to rely upon than his bodily strength. Even in small matters the contrast is marked: Odin lives by wine alone, while Thor eats the flesh of his goats and drinks the homely ale. Odin's weapon is the spear; Thor's is the more primitive hammer. It is to Odin that all the warriors go after death; Thor gets only the thralls. In some of the poems there is an obvious tendency to assign to Thor an undignified and even ludicrous part, which is strongly at variance with the veneration in which he was actually held, as we have seen above. It would, perhaps, be unsafe to attach very much importance to this, as it, is quite uncertain how far these poems can be accepted as evidence for religious beliefs. It is perhaps more significant that while writers like Snorri tell how Odin and various other gods (such as Njörd and Frey) came from the south-east into Denmark and Sweden, there is no similar account as regards Thor. In the historical period, too, there were distinguished families in Sweden and Norway whose genealogy was traced back to Odin and Frey, while no one claimed descent from Thor. Both of these facts may reasonably be regarded as supporting the view that Odin belongs to a later period in the history of Scandinavia than Thor, and some such explanation appears to be requisite to account for the striking differences in the traditional statements regarding the two chief gods of the old religion.