THE OLD-WORLD HEROES. 
349 
above your noble head, and yet not chilled the battle 
heat upon your brow, nor staunched the blood that 
trickles down your iron glove, from hidden, untold 
wounds, which the tender hand of Thyri shall never 
heal! 
To such ardent souls it is indeed given “ to live for 
ever ” (the for ever of this world) ; for is it not “ Life ” 
to keep a hold on our affections, when their own pas¬ 
sions are at rest,—to influence our actions (however 
indirectly)—when action is at an end for them ? Who 
shall say how much of modern heroism may owe its 
laurels to that first throb of fiery sympathy which 
young hearts feel at the relation of deeds such as Olaf 
Tryggvesson’s ? 
The forms of those old Greeks and Romans whom 
we are taught to reverence, may project taller shadows 
on the world’s stage; but though the scene be narrow 
here, and light be wanting, the interest is not less intense, 
nor are the passions less awful that inspired these ruder 
dramas. 
There is an individuality in the Icelandic historian’s 
description of King Olaf that wins one’s interest—at 
first as in an acquaintance,—and rivets it at last as 
