e a non-epical trait, and of necessity
therefore, a non-Icelandic trait. The sagaman was epic in his tone.

As a last appreciation of the art of William Morris as it is displayed
in this poem, we would call attention to the tremendous battle-piece
entitled "Of the Battle in Atli's Hall." It is the climax of this
marvelous poem, and in no detail is it inadequate to its place in the
work. The poet's constructive power is here demonstrated to be of the
highest order, and in the majestic sweep of events that is here
depicted, we see the poet in his original role of _maker_. The sagaman's
skill had not the power to conceive this titanic drama, and the memory
of his battle-piece is quite effaced by the modern invention. In blood
and fire the story comes to an end with Gudrun,

The white and silent woman above the slaughter set.

As we turn from the scene and the book, that figure fades not away. And
it is fitting that the last memory of this poem should be a picture of
love and hate, inextricably bound together, for that is the irony of
Fate, and Fate was mistress of the Old Norseman's world.

5.

Between the great works dealt with in the last two sections, which
belong together and were therefore so considered, came the book of 1875,
bearing the title _Three Northern Love Stories and Other Tales_. It is
as good a representation as Iceland can make in the love-story class.

These tales are charmingly told in the translation of Morris and
Magnusson, the second one, "Frithiof the Bold," being a master-piece in
its kind. Men will dare much for the love of a woman, and that is why
the sagaman records love episodes at all. Frithiof's voyage to the
Orkneys in Chap. VI is a stormpiece that vies with anything of its kind
in modern literature. It is Norse to the core, and we love the peerless
young hero who forgets not his manhood in his chagrin of defeat at love.
Surely there is fitness in these outbursts of song in moments of extreme
exultation or despair! "And he sang withal:

"Helgi it is that helpeth
The white-head billows' waxing;
Cold time unlike the kissing
In the close of Baldur's Meadow!
So is the hate of Helgi
To that heart's love she giveth.
O would that here I held her,
Gift high above all giving!"

Modern literature has lost this conventionality of the older writings,
found in Hebrew as well as in Icelandic, and we think it has lost
something valuable. Morris thought so,