Unless it teaches one to quote and cavil?”

THE modern literature of the Icelanders is of quite a different character from that in heathen times, and in the early history of the country, from the tenth to the sixteenth century. They seem as much devoted to poetry as their ancestors, and their style of versification is similar; but they court the muse in a different strain. The poetry of the modern Icelanders does not abound in mythology, hyperbole, and fable; and it may reasonably be supposed that works of imagination have lost something of the hue of romance that is thrown around the productions of a heroic age. A study of the works of foreign authors—translations from eminent christian poets, in Norway, Germany, England, and the United States, are favorite pursuits of the modern Icelanders; and works of this description are among the most popular published in the country.

Among the original writers and translators of the present century, none rank as high as Jon Thorlakson. Receiving a scanty salary of less than fifty dollars a year, as parish priest of BÆgisa, and laboring hard as a farmer, he yet found time to translate from English and German writers, and to compose original poetry, to the extent of several octavo volumes, About the year 1818, his case attracted the attention of a learned society in London, and a sum of money was forwarded to him to smooth his declining years; but he survived only till 1821, being over seventy years of age at the time of his death. His translation of Milton was published in Icelandic, in octavo—double columns—a volume of over 400 pages, in 1828. The “Essay on Man,” and a volume of original poetry of great merit were published in 1842. Among his original poems are two versions of the story of Inkle and Yarico.

The style of versification in vogue among the early Icelandic writers was very peculiar. Its harmony was dependent, not so much on rhyme and the number of syllables in a line, as upon peculiar alliterations. Their language abounding in consonants, this seemed easier than rhymes, which were seldom used. Some of their kinds of verse had regular alliterations at the commencement of the lines; other varieties, just so many alliterations in a line, or alliterations in a similar position in certain words of corresponding lines. The following is a very good example. It is from an “Address to the New Year,” or, more literally, “The sight of the New Year.”

NYARS VISUR.

How ingenious and regular are the alliterations! This is from a poem, written in 1847. During the present century, rhymes have been gaining in favor greatly. A longer meter and more perfect rhythm is also cultivated. The old verse, and much of the more modern, is a very short meter, which, to us, does not seem as poetical as a more stately and majestic tread. Formerly, and sometimes at the present day, verse was printed without capitals, except at the commencement of a stanza. Let us see how old John Milton looks in an Icelandic dress; and how Mr. Thorlakson sings:—

We can barely recognize the “heavenly Muse”—“Mentamothir hymneska”—Mother of hymns!—

Thorlakson’s version of Pope’s great Essay is a later translation, and, probably, a better one. It is longer meter, is all in rhyme, and more in accordance with the structure of English verse.^[37] Here is a selection from the fourth epistle of the Essay, with the translation:—

Mr. Thorlakson gives it in this style.

One of the finest specimens of Icelandic poetry, is a translation of Bruce’s Address to his Army, on the following page. It shows the flexibility of the Icelandic language in a striking light; the piece preserving the exact number of stanzas, the same number of lines to a stanza, and rhymes precisely like the song of Burns, so that in the Icelandic version it can be sung to the same air.

We give the original, so they may be readily compared.

BANNOCKBURN.

These examples, though but disjecta membra poetÆ, are sufficient to show something of the structure and appearance of Icelandic poetry; and, probably to the general reader, as interesting as a dissertation that would fill a volume.

One more specimen, however, of their verse, shall be given; a couple of stanzas of a very popular Icelandic hymn. It is entitled, “The weeping of Jacob over Rachel,” or,

GRÁTUR JACOBS YFIR RAKEL.

We will now have a specimen of Icelandic prose. See how queer our good old plain philosopher Franklin looks in a Northern dress. Here is his “Story of a Whistle.”

ÞaÐ bar til einhvern helgidag Þegar eg var eitthvaÐ sjÖ vetra gamall, aÐ kunningjar mÍnir fylltu vasa mÍna koparskildingum. Jeg gekk ÞÁ strax beina leiÐ til bÚdar Þar sem barnagull voru seld; en Á leiÐinni mÆtti jeg dreng, sem hjelt Á hljÓÐpÍpu, og ÞÓtti mjer svo fallegt hljÓÐiÐ Í henni, aÐ jeg bauÐ honum af fyrra bragÐi allt fje mitt fyrir hana. SiÐan fÓr eg heim og gekk um Öll hÚs blÁsandi Á hljÓÐpÍpuna mÍna, og var hinn kÁtasti ÞÓ eg gjÖrÐi Öllum heimamÖnnum ÓnÆÐi. BrÆÐur mÍnir, systur, og frÆndur komust brÁtt aÐ um kaupskap minn, og sÖgÐu mjer Þa aÐ eg hefÐi gefiÐ fjÓrum sinnum meira fyrir pÍpuna enn hÚn vÆri verÐ. ÞÁ fÓr eg aÐ hugsa um hvaÐ marga gÓÐa gripi eg hefÐi getaÐ eignast fyrir ÞaÐ, sem eptir hefÐi mÁtt vertÐa af skildingum minum; og Þau hlÓu svo lengi aÐ heimsku minni, aÐ jeg grjet af gremju, og umhugsanin um Þetta hriggÐi mig meira enn hljÓÐpÍpan gladdi mig.

Þetta atvik kom mjer ÞÓ sÍÐan til nota, ÞvÍ Áhrifin urÐu eptir Í sÁl minni; og opt, Þegar freistni kom aÐ mjer aÐ kaupe einhvern ÓÞarfann, sagÐi eg viÐ sjÁlfan mig, gefÐu ei of mikiÐ fyrir hlÓÐpÍpuna; og meÐ ÞvÍ mÓti hjelt eg fje mÍnu.

Þegar eg Óx upp, komst Út Í heiminn, og fÓr aÐ taka eptir breitni manna, ÞÁ fannst mjer svo sem eg hitti marga, mjÖg marga, sem gÁfu of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpuna.

Þegar eg sÁ mann, af eintÓmri eptirsÓkn eptir hylli konunga, eyÐa aldri sÍnum Í ÞvÍ aÐ bÍÐa eptir hentugleikum Þeirra, fÓrna nÆÐi sÍnu, frelsi, dygÐ og jafnvel vinum sÍnum, til aÐ nÁ henni, ÞÁ sagÐi jeg viÐ sjÁlfan mig, Þessi maÐur gefur of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpu sÍna.

Þegar eg sÁ annan mann lÁta mikiÐ af alÞÝÐu hylli, og verja stundum sÍnum til aÐ kvetja menn til Óspekta, en sjÁlfum sjer til ÓbÆtanlegs skaÐa vanrÆkja efni sÍn; hann gefur sannarlega, sagÐi eg ÞÁ, of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpu sÍna.

Ef eg sje einhvern armingja, sem einasta til Þess aÐ geta hrÚgaÐ saman auÐÆfum, afneitar sjer um alla ÞÆgilegleika lÍfsins, alla ÞÁ ÁnÆgju, sem Í ÞvÍ er aÐ gjÖra vel viÐ aÐra, alla virÐingu segi eg Þa, Þjer gefiÐ vissulega of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpu yÐar.

Þegar eg mÆti gleÐimandi, sem fÓrnar hverju tÆkifÆrt til aÐ auÐga sÁl sÍna eÐa bÆta hag sinn Á lofsverÐan hÁtt, og ÞaÐ vegna eintÓmrar holdlegrar nautnar: ÓlÁns-maÐur, segi eg ÞÁ, Þjer bakiÐ yÐur bÖl en ei gleÐi: Þjer gefiÐ of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpu yÐar.

SjÁi jeg mann af tÓmri hjegÓmadÝrÐ sÆkjast eptir dÝrindis fÖtum, hÚssgÖgnum og ÖÐrum ÚtbunaÐi, allt meira enn efni hans leyfa, safna fyrir ÞÁ sÖk skuldum og lenda loks Í dÍflissu; Æ, segi eg ÞÁ, hann hefur dÝrkeypt, mjÖg dÝrkeypt, hljÓÐpÍpu sÍna.

Þegar eg sje fagra, blÍÐlynda meyju, gefna illum og hroÐalegum svola; mikil hÖrmung er ÞaÐ, segi eg ÞÁ, aÐ hÚn skuli hafa gefiÐ svona mikiÐ fyrir eina hljÓÐpÍpu.

Í stuttu mÁli, eg komst aÐ raun um aÐ mikill hluti af eydum manna kemur af ÞvÍ aÐ Þeir meta ranglega gildi hluta, og gefa of mikiÐ fyrir hljÓÐpÍpur sÍnar.

The word Hljothpipan, literally translated, is a pipe, or musical instrument, made out of a reed. These extracts from Icelandic literature are undoubtedly very interesting! If not so readily perused as our English, they at least show the literary taste of the Icelanders, and something of the variety and style of their composition. Here is an extract from a newspaper published in Reykjavik a few days after I left; a copy of which I received by mail after arriving in New York.

Eptirfylgjandi GREIN baÐ ferÐamaÐurinn herra PLINY MILES rektor herra BJARNA JÓNSSON aÐ lÁta prenta Í ÞjÓÐÓlfi, og senda honum svo til Vesturheims.

Herra Pliny Miles, VesturheimsmaÐur og meÐlimur Sagnafjelagsins Í NÝju JÓrvÍk, hefur um brÍÐ dvaliÐ Á Íslandi og fariÐ vÍÐa um hjerÖÐ landsins. Hann hefur skoÐaÐ Geisir, litla Geisir, brennisteinnÁmurnar Í Krisuvik, og hann kom upp Á tindinn Á Heklu. Herra Miles hefur skoÐaÐ og aÐgÆtt nokkrar bÆkur landsins, og hefur hann haft heim meÐ sjer til Vesturheims nokkrar Íslenzkar bÆkur. StiptsbÓkasafniÐ hefur sent bÖggul af bÓkum ÞjÓÐbÓkasafni Vesturheims, er Smithson er hÖfundur aÐ, til endurgjalds fyrir dÝrar bÆkur, er stiptsbÓkasafniÐ hafÐi nÝlega fengiÐ frÁ bÓkasafni Smithsons. Herra Miles siglir Á pÓstskipinu til meginlands NorÐurÁlfunnar, og tjÁir hann sig mikillega ÁnÆgÐan meÐ allt, sem hann hefur sjeÐ Út Á Íslandi.

A translation of this is scarcely required, as its purport can be readily seen. It is a short article written by Mr. Bjarni Johnson, for the THIOTHOLFUR, and giving an account of the author’s visit to Iceland.

In the Icelandic, whole sentences from other languages are thrown into one word. The word Vesturheimsmathur, fully translated, is a man who has his home on the western continent. It goes on to speak of this native of the West, as a member of the New York Historical Society—“Sagnafjelagsins”—and that, during a somewhat rainy period, he visited Iceland, traveled through the interior of the country, went to the Geyser, the little Geyser, the Sulphur Mountains—“brennisteinnÁmurnar”—of Krisuvik, and climbed to the top of Hekla. It speaks of the visit as a pleasant one, and that on the return of the traveler to America—“Vesturheims”—he took some books from the Iceland public library—“stiptsbÓkasafnith”—as a present to the American Smithsonian library, in return for a similar present formerly received from Smithson’s. Then he journeyed on the mail packet—“pÓstskipinu”—to the continent of Europe, after a long tour and an agreeable stay in Iceland.

This shall close our extracts. Lest some may think that the writer of this volume is an enthusiast, and overrates the value of Icelandic literature, the following statement is quoted from the preface to the English translation of Rask’s Icelandic Grammar, by Hon. George P. Marsh, and shows the high estimate placed on the language and literature of the Northmen, by this eminent linguist.

The translator cannot here enter upon so copious a subject as the character and value of the literature of Iceland; and it must suffice to remark, that in the opinion of those most competent to judge, it has never been surpassed, if equaled, in all that gives value to that portion of history which consists of spirited delineations of character, and faithful and lively pictures of events among nations in a rude state of society.

That the study of the Old-Northern tongue may have an important bearing on English grammar and etymology, will be obvious when it is known that the Icelandic is most closely allied to the Anglo-Saxon, of which so few monuments are extant; and a slight examination of its structure, and remarkable syntactical character, will satisfy the reader, that it may well deserve the attention of the philologist.

FOOTNOTES:

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