of one and the human weakness of the other would suffice to these ends.
The natural magic, the beauty and inherent power of such a woman
as Swanhild, are things more forceful than any spell magicians have
invented, or any demon they are supposed to have summoned to their
aid. But no saga would be complete without the intervention of such
extraneous forces: the need of them was always felt, in order to throw
up the acts of heroes and heroines, and to invest their persons with
an added importance. Even Homer felt this need, and did not scruple to
introduce not only second sight, but gods and goddesses, and to bring
their supernatural agency to bear directly on the personages of his
chant, and that far more freely than any Norse sagaman. A word may be
added in explanation of the appearances of "familiars" in the shapes
of animals, an instance of which will be found in this story. It was
believed in Iceland, as now by the Finns and Eskimo, that the passions
and desires of sorcerers took visible form in such creatures as wolves
or rats. These were called "sendings," and there are many allusions to
them in the Sagas.

Another peculiarity that may be briefly alluded to as eminently
characteristic of the Sagas is their fatefulness. As we read we seem
to hear the voice of Doom speaking continually. "_Things will happen as
they are fated_": that is the keynote of them all. The Norse mind had
little belief in free will, less even than we have to-day. Men and women
were born with certain characters and tendencies, given to them in order
that their lives should run in appointed channels, and their acts bring
about an appointed end. They do not these things of their own desire,
though their desires prompt them to the deeds: they do them because they
must. The Norns, as they name Fate, have mapped out their path long and
long ago; their feet are set therein, and they must tread it to the end.
Such was the conclusion of our Scandinavian ancestors--a belief forced