Category: G.L. Norrman

Yesterday was manic but rewarding as I took an unexpected jaunt to South Carolina to get my final photographs of 4 works by G.L. Norrman: the Newberry Hotel and Opera House in Newberry, and the Samuel McGowan House and Eureka Hotel in Abbeville.

Norrman’s spirit is more or less infused with mine by this point, and going to South Carolina always feels like returning to a familiar old haunt, although I barely spent any time there until I started documenting Norrman’s work.

Next stop — weather permitting — my final trip to Charleston, where another 4 of Norrman’s works remain.

The background: The following remarks by G.L. Norrman were included in a biographical sketch titled “An Educated Architect”, published in the December 17, 1892 edition of The Atlanta Journal.

Norrman’s remarks:

“I prefer the classic for libraries, school houses, courthouses and all buildings of an educational character, as most proper. For depots and hotels any style will do, but I prefer the Romanesque for depots and the renaissance for hotels and homes as being more homelike and less business like in appearance. Churches I like Romanesque because the growth of the church and that style of architecture are so closely identified.

The so-called ‘colonial style’ of the old southern mansions is renaissance so far as the builders were able to carry that style in those olden days, and it has recently come again into popular favor because of the sentiment that clings about those honored halls.”

The background: On January 6, 1892, a large tornado obliterated the town of Fayetteville, Georgia, located 25 miles southwest of Atlanta, killing 3 people. While cleanup and rebuilding efforts were underway, G.L. Norrman offered his advice on how to build houses quickly and cheaply in the January 14, 1892 edition of The Atlanta Constitution, in an article titled “For Fayetteville”.

Norrman’s remarks:

“If the homeless people of Fayetteville can get lumber and brick in the manner suggested byThe Constitution, they can build houses very quickly and cheaply on the same plan employed to house the people of Chicago after the great fire. The houses so built are very light, but very strong. The plan was to make the frame entirely 2×8 joists and one inch plank. The 2×8 inch joists were put down on blocks in the same way that sills are laid. The floor joists were then put in two feet apart, with the ends resting against the side joists. Twenty-penny nails were driven through the side pieces from the outside into the ends of the floor joists. Two such nails were so driven in each.

This could be made stronger by nailing a 1×2 strip on the inside of the side pieces under the floor joists. Planks one inch thick and a foot wide were then set upright and nailed to the sides and ends. The cracks between the plank were covered with strips, and the joists rested on them above just as they they do ordinarily upon studding; and so the roof was supported. The inside of the plank was lined with canvas and covered with building paper, which made the house quite warm. A stack chimney was built in the center and was made to serve two or three rooms. The chimney dropped back about three feet above the fireplace, and on the shoulder so made a board was fastened, making a simple but convenient mantel-piece. The chimney so built contained about two thousand five hundred brick. The houses were easily kept warm and very comfortable with well-fitted doors and windows.

They are ready to be occupied and at any time afterwards may be plastered, for a very small cost by nailing one-inch strips diagonally on the walls over the building paper, and laths over these strips. Strips, laths and plaster take up about one and three-fourth inches and with the paper, canvas and plank already there, they make a wall about three inches, thick, giving a house closer and warmer than an ordinary plastered frame house. The diagonal strips give the structure remarkable strength. I built such a house on the mountain side at Tryon, S.C., and it was struck by a storm and carried away. The chimney was demolished, but the house rolled down the mountain side without breaking. Twelve years ago I built a number of such houses, with six rooms each, at Spartanburg, S.C., at an expense of $350 each, including material and labor. It is remarkable how cheap you can build a comfortable house.

If any of the Fayetteville people wish to try this plan I will be pleased to give them any necessary explanation. No drawings will be necessary.”

The background: The April 13, 1890 edition of The Atlanta Constitution published this wide-ranging conversation with G.L. Norrman in the article “Eight Millions More”. The reporter had visited Norrman’s office to solicit his thoughts on construction prospects in Atlanta for the upcoming building season, but Norrman was more interested in discussing his ideas about architecture.

Norrman’s remarks:

“My advice is that people build simple houses, especially if they have not much to spend. The main object of a house is to make people comfortable, and to build simply for show is in bad taste. They put on all kinds of cheap ornaments that are vulgar even on expensive houses, and where they are trying to make a show with little money it is the shoddiest building they can get up. It is expensive and not ornamental.

A house should always be made as simple as possible; nothing should be put on that may be left off. It is strange that business men of good sense should use it so badly when they come to build, and instead of building for comfort should build entirely for show. They even put tops on school houses that make them look like summer hotels.”

Reporter: What is the prevailing style?

“The prevailing style is no style at all. But few houses here or elsewhere are built in good taste. Any style is good. There is no preference, so that the style is carried out. A building should also suggest in its architecture the purpose for which it is intended.

The Romanesque style was introduced into this country by Richardson, who has used it very effectively; but his imitators always make a failure of it because they are not as cultivated as he, and consequently do not know how to carry it out. I do not think it a good style for libraries and public buildings, because it is a style that was developed in the most barbarous age and has no suggestion of learning.

The colonial style has been introduced lately by McKim, Mead & White, of New York, and it is very good as they designed it, but there are few who carry out the style well. At best it has a number of absurdities that are only interesting because of their association with the early history of this country.

The so-called colonial style is barbarism of the Italian renaissance interpreted by Sir Christopher Wren. The best buildings on this continent are as a rule of that style. Mr. [E.C.] Gardner, of this city, who is a very cultured architect, is strong in colonial style.

Whatever suits the occasion is best no matter what style, whether gothic, Romanesque, Queen Anne or renaissance so it is harmoniously carried out.

Shingle as a rule is the best wall covering for frame houses, because the grain of the wood is perpendicular, whereas in weatherboarding it is not. But when shingles are put up as an ornament, it is in bad taste, for there is no particular beauty in the shingle.

There should always be eight inches of brick around flues where the brick touches woodwork. It takes more brick, but it is the only safe way to build a chimney, and I always put it in the specifications. Architects, as a rule, do not build chimneys large enough. Usually they only put four inches of brick between a flue and woodwork. That is not sufficient.

Galvanized iron does not harmonize with anything. It is a makeshift. It is used because stone is too costly.

If a child looks up and sees iron painted to imitate stone, his keen eyes detect the fraud; and when his father undertakes to teach him truthfulness, the child tells him he is another. Why, I have even known ministers to build such falsehoods in their churches.”

Reporter: Do you get any ideas from nature?

“Painting and sculpture are intended to suggest nature, but architecture is not. There is nothing in nature that you can pattern after. A great many writers on architecture know nothing about it. There is Ruskin who wrote so many books about architecture without understanding his subject. In his description of the church of San Marco, he said the undulatory appearance of the floor was the architect’s representation of the waves of the Adriatic. If he had understood construction he would have known that the church was built on piles and the floor settled.

The outlook for building is good this year, and I think there will be more of it done this year than last; certainly the houses will be of a better character.”

This post contains the full text of Architecture as Illustrative of Religious Belief and as a Means of Tracing Civilization, a 32-page pamphlet written in 1898 by Gottfried Leonard Norrman (1848-1909), professionally known as G.L. Norrman, the leading architect of Atlanta and the southeastern United States in the late 19th and early 20th century.

In this text — the architect’s only published work — and in an accompanying lecture in January 1899, Norrman presented his all-encompassing theory of life that connected architecture, religion, and human civilization. Here, he also publicly denounced Christianity and declared his belief in the mythologies of the Old Norse religion.

At the time of the pamphlet’s publication, Norrman had been practicing architecture for at least 22 years, and he was much acclaimed in Atlanta and the surrounding region for his outstanding design skill and wide-ranging body of work.

He had long developed a reputation as a man of forceful and unusual opinions who was prone to rash public outbursts, yet the ideas and beliefs expressed in this text were widely received with shock and criticism, and there is ample evidence to suggest that the publication may have nearly ended Norrman’s career in Atlanta.

Norrman wrote the pamphlet following a 6-month architectural tour of Europe — his only return to that continent after he emigrated to the United States in 1874. Born and raised in Sweden, Norrman was educated in Germany and reportedly traveled the world before he became a United States citizen at the age of 32, spending his entire career and the remainder of his life in the Deep South.

It is clear from his writing that Norrman shared a predominant view among White Americans of the 19th century that people of “Anglo-Saxon” ancestry were an inherently superior race whose moral, spiritual, and cultural dominance was threatened by weak or inferior races, a belief strongly linked to the concept of Social Darwinism. Norrman frequently alluded to this idea throughout the text, presenting it as a foregone truth that would have been unquestioned by his intended audience.

Norrman took the concept even further, however, using ancient dolmen ruins as an unlikely starting point for a sweeping theory in which he posited that human civilization began in Scandinavia — “not from the Hindoos, Negroes, Jews, Hottentots, or whatnots” — and asserted that the Old Norse mythology — “the religion of our fathers” — was the true inspiration for Christianity, declaring that adherence to the values of the Norse religion were imperative “to maintain our supremacy.”

Norrman praised ancient Egypt as “the highest civilization to which man has probably ever attained”, yet suggested that its achievements were derived from Norse influence. And having recently toured southern Europe, he summarily dismissed the cultural contributions of Greece and Rome — “I have begun to lean towards the opinion that no knowledge worth having can be had from that source” — and even attempted to recast his favorite style of art and architecture, Romanesque, as having originated instead with the Goths of northern Europe, suggesting that the style should be renamed “Scandinavian”.

Stringing together incomplete evidence, tenuous historic connections, and outright conjecture, Norrman essentially sought to attribute all significant human achievement to his Scandinavian ancestors, projecting a tone of moral and intellectual superiority that could only read as patronizing and condescending, even as his conclusions were mostly ludicrous and at times oddly naive.

Norrman’s business had steadily declined in the mid-to-late 1890s, due in large part to a national recession, yet he also faced increased competition from a host of new architects, suffered from a string of poor financial decisions, and engaged in a spate of nasty public disputes that undoubtedly tarnished his reputation.

Already at the lowest point of his career, perhaps Norrman felt that he had little to lose in speaking his mind. Certainly, he seemed eager to shock and ridicule his readers, with no apparent regard for how it might affect his business or social standing.

For example, he mocked Judaism and referenced “Jewish arrogance”, although Norrman had long been a preferred architect of Atlanta’s Jewish community. He also took several snide swipes at “the rich”, although he worked almost exclusively for the upper classes and socialized in the highest ranks of Atlanta society.

Norrman also took aim at a favorite target of his at the time — the Christian Science church and its founder, Mary Baker Eddy. His sneering dismissal of the religious movement was particularly audacious given that at the time of the pamphlet’s publication, Norrman was overseeing the construction of a sanctuary for Atlanta’s Christian Science congregation. His remarks led to a public rebuke by the congregation’s leader, Sue Harper Mims¹, a prominent socialite of the city.

Norrman’s objection to Christianity was likely most damaging to his reputation. Once a founding member of Atlanta’s first Unitarian church, which he also designed, here Norrman attacked major tenets of Christianity while attempting to equate key figures and stories from the Bible with the gods and sagas of Norse mythology. In the religious stronghold of the 19th century South, this could only be viewed as blasphemy.

Indeed, Norrman’s professed beliefs in the Æsir religion led to accusations that he was an “infidel”, a charge that still plagued him when he submitted plans for Atlanta’s First Baptist Church in 1904. “It is true that Thor and Woden are my gods,” he reportedly admitted to the church’s building committee, “but that has nothing to do with my ability as an architect.”² His designs for a Romanesque style sanctuary were accepted after long deliberation — it was one of the most lucrative projects of his career.

This text is a dense, rambling, and often confusing read that threads together many disparate concepts, theories, and opinions. Many of Norrman’s assertions have been disproved by later research — the “tower of Newport” that he attributes to ancient Norse design, for instance, is now known to be the remains of an 18th-century windmill. And modern fossil and DNA evidence definitively trace the birth of human civilization to Africa, not Scandinavia.

Norrman was clearly a well-read man with a deep interest in art, history, science, and religion, and much of his text centers on archeology, a then-emerging field that began attracting considerable public attention in the late 19th century. In his text he cited dozens of books and made reference to numerous religious and cultural figures, most of which are quite obscure to modern readers.

Despite affecting a tone of authority, Norrman acknowledged that he was speaking on subjects in which he was not an expert, and attempted to distance himself from possible criticism: “I do not feel justified in guaranteeing the absolute accuracy of all that I have said”.

Norrman’s observations on architecture were always his most interesting and insightful, yet sadly, were barely touched upon in this publication. His dismissal of “rolling-mill style” architecture and “absurdly high buildings” was directed at Industrial Age society but could easily apply to the building industry today. Writing at the cusp of the 20th century, Norrman summed up his profession by proclaiming that “we have no art… our so-called art should come under the head of merchandise rather than art.”

Norrman’s words reveal the wounds of an embittered idealist, a solitary man lashing out at the machinations of a rapidly changing age in which he must have felt increasingly out of step. His mystical view of life consisted of beliefs both antiquated and regressive, yet at moments oddly progressive and prescient.

By all accounts an intensely private loner, Norrman was perhaps his most paradoxical and poignant when he lamented the decline of social cohesion in an age of individualism: “Instead of dependence and assistance, individual liberty and personal gain are everywhere insisted on as the means of happiness. So all energies are bent on rending asunder all social ties.” Clearly, the man lived in Atlanta.

A confounding and complicated man, Godfrey Norrman was nonetheless an outstanding architect of his era. His writing neatly mirrors his approach to design, in which he often brought together elements of disparate styles, cultures, and historic periods, blending them into compositions that were at times utterly fantastical, yet consistently distinctive and striking.

Norrman’s architectural designs are exceptional in the Southeast for their beauty, harmony, and attentiveness to form, and for that he deserves praise, even if his own words and beliefs cannot be so neatly understood or admired.

ARCHITECTURE
AS ILLUSTRATIVE OF
RELIGIOUS BELIEF
AND
AS A MEANS OF TRACING CIVILIZATION

BY
G.L. NORRMAN
ARCHITECT
Fellow of American Institute of Architects

ATLANTA, GA.
The Franklin Printing and Publishing Co.
1898.

23143
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1898,
By G.L. NORRMAN,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D.C.

The highway of civilization has been so well established, has been worn so nice and smooth and is so well hedged in, that a Sunday-school child, could hardly lose his way anywhere along the whole distance from Adam and Eve to McKinley.

While this road leads through many strange countries, it has been gone over so often, and the scenery along it has become so familiar that, for a change, you are invited to a hasty excursion along an old road which our forefathers established many thousand years ago. This is a most picturesque pathway; it extends over land and sea. Nearly all of our possessions in the past, which, Carlyle tells us, are precious possessions, lie along this old road, yet it has been so much neglected that it has fallen into decay and can now scarcely be traced except by a few landmarks.

The first part of our excursion may be tedious, “as the only landmarks by which we can trace this road are remains of some of the last resting places which our forefathers established by the wayside. But the latter part of our trip we can make quite easily,” as very nicely decorated signposts have been put up for our guidance all along the road up to within a thousand years ago.

Houses are not merely a protection from wind and weather, but they are the most reliable and lasting record that man makes of the intellectual attainments of his time.

Literature mainly indicates attainments and ideas of the individual writer. But building is under public control, and, consequently, is an expression of the culture of the community. A building committee is always composed of as intelligent men as the public judgment can select, and this committee selects the architect whose culture is most in conformity with their own vernacular taste, as no one can judge of anything except from his point of view. So buildings are crude and illogical in proportion as the people are crude and vulgar. They are substantial or unsubstantial according to the settled or unsettled condition of society. Their dignity and decoration depend on the sentiment of the people, and nothing indicates the moral character of a community so distinctly as does its buildings. Veneered houses go with veneered morals, and sham buildings and other frauds go together. How can you expect your child to tell the truth when you have galvanized iron columns painted in imitation of stone on your front porch? If your child has any intelligence he will naturally point to them and tell you that “you are another.”

Architecture, like any other art, is a fine art only when it is a vehicle for conveying emotions, and especially religious emotions. When it is used for any other purpose it is merely industrial art. When I speak of architecture I speak of it as a fine art, since, when not a fine art, it is merely housebuilding.

Art and religion go hand in hand, but up to the present at least they have developed independently of any highly organized political institutions. When society has been most thoroughly organized, religion has been merely conventional formalities, and arts have dwindled into handicrafts, or more or less clever attempts at copying art to gratify the vanities of rulers or of the rich. While at times, when there has been the least legal security to life and property, the arts have developed into expressions of the most intense religious emotions, and houses have been built, as it seemed, not with hands, but by the power of the spirit. Houses, that builders, painters and sculptors have attempted (but in vain) to imitate during the past thousand or two thousand years. Thus the Parthenon and the Greek religion reached their growth when the Greeks were engaged in the cruelties of the Peloponnesian war, and Gothic art and Christianity arrived at maturity at a time when people were burning each other on account of a difference of opinion.

The Dolmens are the first landmarks we find to indicate man’s intellectual achievements. The Dolmens are the earliest monuments erected to the dead. These structures are of the greatest importance as evidence of the direction and progress of civilization. They are in themselves a very interesting study, but I cannot now go into an explanation of them. They are found in different countries, extending from Scandinavia to England, France, Spain, North Africa and Arabia into India, and show that these various places were at one time occupied and dominated by the same people, as all of these structures bear resemblance to one another.

A similarity in language, legends, myths and architecture of these various countries shows that at one time in the remote past one particular people, with very definite and dominating ideas, gave a coloring, if not direction, to the thoughts of the world. Just who these people were who exercised such a strong influence on the world is a question that has occupied the thought and research of a great many learned men of all ages. The most commonly accepted theory is that the dawn of all intellectual development began in Asia; and there are those who think they can point out the particular spot in Asia where civilization started.

Nearly all writers on this subject trace people by means of language, except one, Viollet LeDuc, who follows them through the medium of architecture. In his book, “The Habitations of Man in all Ages,” he points to the Himalaya mountains as the starting point. But while he was one of the most learned of all architects, and has, perhaps, written more and better on architecture than any other writer, this particular book is very misleading, as he has not taken the Dolmens into consideration.

Then, again, Mr. Gerald Massey, in his “Genesis” and his “Beginnings”, the most learned books on the beginning and development of civilization with which I am acquainted, thinks that Africa was its birthplace.

There are but few places on earth “which have not been pointed to by some one” as being the starting point of civilization. It is my own belief that the people who gave direction to the thought of the world were the Dolmen builders, and as likely as not their original home may have been at what is now the bottom of the ocean, somewhere in the neighborhood of what is now the north-pole. I believe that these Dolmen builders were the forefathers of the Vikings, to who again we trace our own origin, and that it is from and of our social and moral system, and not from the Hindoos, Negroes, Jews, Hottentots, or whatnots.

I believe that courage, honor, truth, fidelity and justice are the basis of all noble attainments, and that these principles are the only safeguards of our liberty, our life and property and our pursuit of happiness.

These principles were the basis of the Æsir religion, the religion of our fathers; they were their Fates (or the goddesses who control destiny). The Valkyries were the personifications of these principles. It was they who would guard and guide the brave, the honest, the pure and the just along Bifrost (the rainbow) into Gimle (Himmel-Heaven), the home of the God of our fathers. These principles, courage, honor, truth, fidelity and justice, are the angels who, if implored, will step on the branches of the tree of life and enable mortals to reap the fruit and gather the “honeyed dews which fall from its leaves.”

The evidence on which I mainly base my belief are stones; but they are stones of such a high architectural character that their testimony can hardly be doubted. With the exception of my first two propositions, which are based on the evidence of stones that may be said to be in their dotage, my beliefs are founded on the evidence of stones, structures, and decorations which, while somewhat old-fashioned, are yet in a good and sound state of preservation.

These witnesses make at times some very startling suggestions. From their testimony one might almost be led to think that some of the early teachers were in the habit of playing practical jokes on the boys. For instance, telling them to catch birds by putting salt on their tails; to move mountains by faith; or to use buckeyes, crosses, rabbit’s feet, blood or horseshoes, as a means of averting the consequences of their misdoings either in this world or in the next.

My belief that the Dolmen builders gave direction to the thought of the world rests on the Dolmens themselves.

These structures are often found in bogs and marshes, where they could have not been built under present physical conditions, which shows that the earth’s surface has undergone a very material change since they were built. There are no other structures which indicate that the surface of the earth has changed to any extent since they were erected. So I think that we are safe in assuming that the Dolmens are the oldest structures in existence, and as we have no evidence of civilization in any country where the influence of the Dolmen builders is not manifest by their monuments, these people must have given direction to civilization.

As far as I have been able to learn there is no prehistoric art to corroborate the statements of history regarding the great emigration from East to West. But the Dolmens show that there must have been an emigration from North to South, and that the Dolmen builders must have been the forefathers of the Vikings, since the Norse Sagas, folk-lore and customs, point very strongly to such a kinspeople.

If they were the forefathers of the Vikings, it follows that, they were our most remote Anglo-Saxon forefathers of whom we have any record. It may be of interest, then, to know a few of the things which they did; how the civilization which they were instrumental in establishing was probably destroyed, and how our religion and customs are based on vague recollections of former antediluvian ideas, and to what attainments we may reach if we only follow the spirit and tendency of our heritage.

By comparing the Dolmens with the monuments of Egypt, we can readily see the similarity in architecture between them and the Egyptian structures. By comparing the Norse mythology with the Egyptian mythology, we see their similarity in religion, and there is an evident relationship between the customs of the Dolmen builders and those of the Egyptians, fully explained by Massey. By comparing the Egyptian Dictionary of Dr. Samuel Birch with the Provincial Dictionary of Thomas Wright, we find that there are about two thousand Egyptian words which are similar to English, and if the Egyptian words were compared to Scandinavian words the similarity would be yet more striking. By such means it seems we may trace an unmistakable connection between ourselves and the people of the remotest civilization of which we have any evidence.

That the civilization of Egypt had its inspiration from the Dolmen builders is evident on the account of the Dolmens being the older structures. That the civilization of Egypt developed to such a marvelous extent was owing to more favorable conditions there than those that existed where it started. We see the same results here in America. While our civilization came from Europe, it has greatly changed here on account of different and more favorable natural conditions. Thus we cannot return to Europe not only improved machinery, tools and appliances of every description, but our missionaries are bringing back to Europe a much improved religion, to which it is my desire to give some finishing touches.

The Egyptian civilization was probably of antediluvian antiquity. At any rate, it was an old and forgotten civilization where the Greeks first gave an account of it. According to the Egyptian chronicles, it is 36,525 years since the first dynasty of Rut (the most ancient of which we have any record) went into power, which shows civilization to be about seven times older than the creation according to Moses.

The highest civilization to which man has probably ever attained was developed in Egypt, and, as I have attempted to show, under the influence of the Dolmen builders. That this was of the most advanced order, we can infer, among other things, from the scientific mode of recording events used in Egypt. The Egyptians did not, as we do, record events as occurring before or after some other event, which itself is of uncertain date, as for instance the founding of Rome, or the birth of Christ. According to the Egyptian mode of reckoning, a dynasty went in or out of power when the earth was in a certain relation to some particular constellation; a mode of recording events which makes it easy for any astronomer to count back and tell just when the event occurred. When this civilization was destroyed and forgotten, there remained only a vague recollection that there was some sort of relationship between events and the stars, which probably led to the various superstitions under the head of astrology. The difference was, instead of an event being recorded in relation to the fixed stars, as was done by the Egyptians, the astrologers believed that the events are fixed, and that the stars adjust themselves to suit the events. Thus it, no doubt, was that the Bible writers believed that “the wise men of the East” saw a star moving along, whereby they knew that something had happened.

That civilization is of antediluvian origin, as claimed by the Bible writers, is very plausible. Both the Dolmens and some old Egyptian structures give evidence of once having been submerged. That at some remote period there was a flood, as indicated by folklore of all nations, can hardly be doubted. There is scarcely any part of the earth’s surface which does not give evidence of having been under water. But the generally accepted theory of that flood is very unsatisfactory. It seems to me more likely that, at some time during the earth’s existence, the accumulation and congealing of the vapors at the poles would have made the poles the largest diameter of the earth and, when this took place, the earth would naturally find its equilibrium on a different axis and would turn about ninety degrees. In other words, the poles were changed from some points near the present equator, and the equator formerly intersected points near the present poles. If such a change in the poles occurred it would readily account for a great many curious phenomena of the earth.

Such a change in the poles would of course change the beds of the oceans. What are now the tilled valleys may have been the bottom of the ocean, and the present bed of the ocean may have been tilled valleys. This change of the oceans would have made such a rush of the waters as would have destroyed every living thing in its way. It would account for the phosphate beds where animals of every description (lions, tigers, elephants, fish and reptiles) were piled together as firmly as if a million Niagaras had rammed them into the crevices where they are found. The coal beds may be accounted for on the same principles, although they may be accounted for, in a reasonable manner, from other causes.

Only some such catastrophe as the changing of the poles can satisfactorily account for the remains of tropical plants and animals under the snow and ice in Siberia and Greenland, and the existence of glaciers at the equator. Remains of tropical animals and plants could hardly have been in the arctic regions unless this part of the earth had at some time been tropical, and unless a very sudden change in the temperature had taken place. At any rate, whatever power caused the phosphate beds, the coal beds and the existence of tropical plants and animals under the ice and snow of the arctics, it was necessarily a power sufficiently great to destroy nearly every vestige of live and civilization. Only on isolated mountain tops could life possibly have been preserved. All appliances and nearly all means of subsistence would have been destroyed, and those who did survive would have had nothing to live upon but bugs, roots, fruits, and such animals as they could capture with their hands.

The civilization of the ancestors of the people who did survive such a flood would naturally soon be forgotten. There would remain only a vague recollection of former times, to be handed down by tradition form one generation to another. Thus we may account for many of our superstitions, which are perhaps only crude attempts at describing what was once scientific facts or poetic symbolism.

I do not feel justified in guaranteeing the absolute accuracy of all that I have said, as it is, to some extent, based on what may be called decrepit testimony. Indeed, there are very few statements in recorded history that I would be willing to guarantee as absolutely correct, not even such a familiar story as that of young George Washington and the cherry-tree.

But what I do contend for as being true, as it is based on testimony that is within easy reach, and can be cross-examined by any archeologist, and what is of importance to know, is the similarity in the ideas in the Æsir religion, or the religion of our forefathers, and in those of Christianity, as illustrated in what is commonly called Romanesque art.

Although this similarity is very striking, it seems to have escaped general attention. At any rate, comparatively little has been written concerning either Romanesque art or the Æsir religion. No commentator, so far as I am aware, has shown how closely they are related to each other or what important factors they both were in the development of Christianity, or their prominence as sign-posts along the highways of history.

It is to this similarity that I wish to call special attention, with the hope of better understanding present conditions by tracing their origin and development.

I do not mean to go into details about either the Æsir religion or Romanesque art, except in so far as is necessary to show how in the art and religion of our forefathers we may trace the origin and fundamental principles of Christianity, rather than in the religion of the Jews and the arts of the Romans. By our forefathers I mean the Norsemen. From all accounts they have a much larger place in the history of the world than is commonly known, so what pertains to them may be of general interest. Comparatively few writers have devoted themselves to the study of these people, but to show the importance of a knowledge of them I take the liberty of quoting from a few prominent authors.

R.B. Anderson, professor at the University of Wisconsin, the author of “Norse Mythology, or the Religion of our Forefathers,” from whom I have adopted many suggestions, and who, I think, is the best elucidator of Norse Mythology, says the Norsemen gave to the world “that germ of liberty that struck root in the earliest literature of France, budding in the Magna Carta of England, and developed its full-blown flowers in the American Declaration of Independence.”

Carlyle, in referring to our forefathers in his “Heroes and Hero Worship,” says: “Neither is there no use in knowing something about old paganism of our fathers. Unconsciously, and combined with higher things, it is in us yet, that old faith withal, to know it consciously brings us into closer and clearer relations with the past, with our own possessions in the past. For the whole past, as I keep repeating, is the possession of the present. The past had something true and is a precious possession. In a different time and in a different place it is always some other side of our own common human nature that has been developing itself.”

Samuel Laing, a noted English writer, says of the Norsemen: “All that men can hope for of good government and future improvements in their physical and moral condition— all that civilized men enjoy in this day of civil, religious and political liberty—the British Constitution, representation by legislation, the trial by jury, security of property, freedom of mind and person, the influence of public opinion over the conduct of public affairs, the Reformation, the liberty of the press, the spirit of the age—all that is or has been of value to man in modern times, as a member of society, either in Europe or in the New World, may be traced to the spark left burning upon our shores by the so-called Northern barbarians.”

Baron Montesquieu, author of “The Spirit of Laws,” says: “The great prerogative of Scandinavia, and what ought to recommend its inhabitants beyond every people upon earth, is that they afford the greatest sources to the liberty of Europe.”

Romanesque architecture has not been very popular for the last thousand years, except in America during a short spurt a few years ago, brought about by the genius of the late Mr. H.H. Richardson, a distinguished architect of Boston; but he brought together and made practical use of only a few Romanesque forms. He, however, made no explanation of their meaning, or apparently used them for any other reason than that they were picturesque.

But Romanesque art should recommend itself in preference to any other art, since it was the art of our forefathers, the Norsemen, at the time of their greatest achievements, and is the only record left by themselves indicating the full magnitude of their greatness. We can trace their footsteps by the monuments they erected all over Europe. The tower of Newport in America is in their style, so they were probably in America; and I would not be surprised if we should find their mysterious runic writing on the monuments of Egypt.

Romanesque architecture has always been to me most interesting. It is interesting because the construction is logical, and the decoration has an air of mystery about it which is very fascinating. Its very form appeals to me as if it wished to tell me something, either about its own existence or about mine. What means this interlacing of dragons, trees and serpents—this grotesque representation of mean animals in such fantastic contortions? To the people who first used this mode of decoration it must have had a meaning, and a deep religious meaning, as it has been the main motive for church decoration since the beginning of the middle ages. No one that I am aware of has ever made an attempt at furnishing an explanation of these decorations. It may be that our classic school-masters and conventionalists have now so overclouded the natural light of our minds that we are in danger of losing even the capacity for seeing the meaning in the art of our fathers. But if archeologists would devote themselves to the investigation of the arts of the Goths at the time of their occupation of Greece, instead of to the Greek arts, I feel sure that very valuable discoveries would be made, which would throw new light on history, and would brush away many of the classic cob-webs from our minds, so that we might understand this art, which is the only record our fathers have left as evidence of our own possessions in the past, which, as Carlyle tells us, are precious possessions. This art is the evidence of our inherited birth-right upon earth since the dawn of civilization.

The practical pursuit of my profession has prevented me from making an extensive investigation of this art. So all that I hope to do now is to point out, in a general way, the means whereby to obtain historical knowledge on a line which I think has, as yet, not been pursued in a scientific manner.

Like others, I have thought that only through the medium of Greece and Rome can we come to an accurate knowledge of anything. So I have been greatly puzzled for many years in trying to arrive at any understanding of this mysterious decoration and what these queer figures mean. But on a recent trip to Europe I became convinced that one may as well attempt to trace out and understand the complicated mechanism of a modern battleship through the medium of Roman art and literature, as by the same means to reach an appreciative comprehension of Romanesque art, or of Christianity as it was understood when the Christian churches were first erected. In fact I have begun to lean towards the opinion that no knowledge worth having can be had from that source. A people whose “god was a robber, reared by a wolf,” could hardly give inspiration to any good work or thought.

I am also inclined to doubt many of the so-called ancient authorities on whose statements history is based. Since before printing was invented, knowledge was mainly conveyed by speakers, and to make a narration interesting, rhetoric was used very freely, and we all know how unreliable rhetoric is. It is the trick of the orator, as slight of hand is the trick of the juggler. Each is well enough in his way. Yet to base history on what one hears from an orator, is like founding science on what one sees performed by a juggler. Even if the orator tells the truth, which he rarely does, since he is generally a mere advocate, and if he uses metaphor, as he generally does, it becomes nearly impossible, after the language in which he speaks has been dead for many centuries, to translate what he has said, so as to give a correct idea of the social system under which he lived. Besides, what he did say was often not written down for years after it was said. So we can readily see how unreliable early authorities must be, if we only consider how difficult it is for modern shorthand writers to take down correctly what is said, even when we are talking directly to them.

Those who know more than one language understand how difficult it is to translate from one into another, so as to preserve all the nice shades of meaning and convey a correct idea, even though the translator be acquainted with the social conditions prevailing at the time the author wrote. How much more difficult it is when the translator is not familiar with such conditions!

If, after our language shall be dead and our social system forgotten, a newspaper should be found in a leaden box of some corner-stone of a public building, containing the announcement that an incoming administration had “cut off the heads” of a large number of office-holders, the people then living could hardly be expected to know that this expression was merely metaphorical, especially as they would be apt to find the same corroborated by other old newspapers. Our modern so-called art would not be of any help in setting us right with posterity, since, with the exception of what may be termed the late perpendicular or rolling mill style of architecture, employed in our absurdly high buildings, we have no art, and nothing more than the material and labor in these strictly belong to us. So our so-called art should come under the head of merchandise rather than art.

But Roman and Romanesque art are sufficiently distinct to prove that many statements of history are not true. These misstatements were, I doubt not, in many case the result of misunderstanding of the expressions used in the original manuscripts. But in many instances they were made deliberately untrue, either for political or theological purposes. A distinguished theologian has to make the facts fit his creed or he will never be distinguished, just as a politician has to do it. I suspect that an orator or writer who did not vilify the Romans would have enjoyed as little popularity with the Gothic conquerors as did those of “the North” or of “the South” after our late war who failed to abuse or sneer at their late antagonists. And I assume that the early Christian writers were probably no exception to this general rule. It may well be doubted whether many of the atrocities attributed to the Romans had any foundation in fact. It is reasonable to suppose that a great deal of Roman history is mere romance. This opinion is founded on the fact that no art objects of any kind, whether painted, modeled or carved, can be found to illustrate any of the gross cruelties which history records as having been perpetrated by the Romans in their arenas or elsewhere. The Roman slaves, who were such great picture-makers, would surely have put on record, through the medium of their art, evidence of the cruel practices attributed to their masters if such enormities had been as common as is represented. Hence it occurs to me that if historians had understood art, and noted its teachings, history would read quite differently. We know how difficult it is to get the facts of what occurs even in our own times and, when rival parties differ, it seems almost out of the question to learn the real truth. So one can form some conception of how very hopeless it is to ascertain what really occurred eighteen hundred years ago from a mere written narrative.

There is a class of historic discrepancies very apparent to any architect. For instance, Nero could not have burned ancient Rome. The buildings at that time were so constructed that they could not burn, except possibly the roofs. If any part of Rome was burned at all it could have been only a very small part, or some small buildings on the outskirts. Again, if Nero ever fiddled he certainly did not fiddle in the tower which is pointed out as Nero’s, since that tower could have been built until two hundred years after Nero was dead, as one who is familiar with construction can easily see from its Romanesque design. if any Christians lived in or in any way used the catacombs, before the expiration of the first four hundred years Jesus is supposed to have lived, they left no marks of it to show such fact. What few decorations there are in the catacombs, earlier than the fifth century, are crude attempts at Roman decoration,and were most likely the work of fugitive slaves. Such as have any Christian meaning are in the Byzantine style, and could not have been put there before there was any such style. The fact that there is not the slightest mark of a crucifix to be found in the catacombs, except in Byzantine style, led me to look for crucifixes of Roman design in other places, and it is most remarkable that no Christian emblem of any description has been found anywhere which indicates a classic or Roman origin. I thought at first that I was mistaken in this; but in referring to many authorities in the British Museum and Library, I found no statement to the contrary. When I became satisfied that there was nothing in Roman art to show that the Romans had any knowledge of Christianity, or that if they had such a knowledge it had not made enough impression on them to induce them to make an attempt at illustrating it, I became more and more interested in Romanesque art, since in it we trace the first attempt at illustration which has reference to Christianity.

In Southern Europe I have been especially impressed with some of the early churches, on account of their resemblance to pictures I have seen of heathen temples in Scandinavia. This was the more noticeable because I had always been under the impression that the first Christian churches were planned after the style of the Roman Basilica. To find that these early Christian churches did not resemble the Roman Basilica any more than the Basilica resembles a river steamboat, either in plan or in decoration, but that they do resemble the old heathen temples of Scandinavia, suggested that the Goths of history were really the same people as the Vikings. Thus I began to wonder if some of the learned authorities had not been misled by some other learned authorities, as learned authorities sometimes are, and had made a muddle of their explanation of the origin and development both of religion and Romanesque art. This idea was further strengthened when I found paintings and mosaics illustrating the Viking ships with classic buildings in the background; this, to may mind was unmistakable evidence of the identity of the Vikings as being the Gothic conquerors referred to in current history.

Since these people would naturally have brought their religion and art with them, I was led to look to the Eddas for an explanation of early Christian art. And it was not long before I became convinced that this art had its inspiration in the Æsir religion, and that it more properly should be termed Scandinavian art than Romanesque. The name Romanesque is misleading, since it suggests a classic origin which it evidently has not. The name “Byzantine” art is not so bad, since it was no doubt developed in Greece; but that it had its inspiration in the Æsir religion can be seen by making a few comparisons of this art with the Eddas, the only surprise being that it has not been commented on before.

The queer goblins holding out their heads from under the eaves and serving as gargoyles, the giants who support the arches, and the dwarfs who are busy at holding corbels in position, all had a familiar look. They seemed like old friends who I had met when a boy in the Norse Sagas. They stopped me as it were, almost by force, to tell me stories of long, long ago. They had learned a queer kind of brogue, by their long sojourn in the South, which made it hard to understand what they wished to tell; but I could make out that they had a great deal to say of history, of religion and of the social system of our forefathers; and what gives these figures their high artistic merit is that they tell their own story without one having to refer to a catalogue to see what they mean to say, as is the case with modern pictures. They told me they were strangers where they were, put there by loving hands to bear witness to the brave deeds and noble spirits of those who broke the chains with which the Roman emperors held the world captive. In the far North was their birth-place. Odin was the ruler of the heavens, and the Nornor controlled the destinies of men. All went very well then, it was the “golden age.” Men were brave, honest and true, and women were fair, faithful and pure. The old tree with its twisted branches, which is the main motive in Romanesque decoration, is Ygdrasil, the Tree of Life. This tree represents all life and all emotions; its branches embrace the uttermost parts of existence, and its roots extend into the ideal, the practical and the corrupt, and unless it is constantly watered by the Nornor courage, justice and generosity, corruption will entwine itself in the branches, as illustrated by the dragons. The Annunciation is the lark, announcing the birth of Balder, the beloved son of the Allfather (the approach of the Summer). The Trolls were looking over the parapets with a serio-comic look, as if they contemplated vengeance on the strangers who had come in with their strange God, for insulting the gods of our fathers by giving them all sorts of nicknames; for placing scheming, psalm-singing saints in the seats of the heroes; for throwing mud into Mimer’s Fountain, the Fountain of Life, in the old groves at the seat of the Vikings, the Fountain of Living Water, which inspired our forefathers with courage, truth, fidelity and purity; the fountain which is still the source from which these virtues draw their nourishment and the spirit of progress finds sustenance; and it is to this fountain we must turn for strength to maintain our supremacy.

But the flow of this fountain has become sluggish. It is about to be choked with avarice, voluptuousness and licentiousness. Courage and virtue are only trickling out by drops and are soon lost in the desert of scheming and chicanery. Instead of mutual dependence and assistance, individual liberty and personal gain are everywhere insisted on as the means of happiness. So all energies are bent on rending asunder all social ties. This may result in a social chaos, and may be the means the Trolls intend to use in wreaking their revenge.

Many of the old Æsirs have never become reconciled to the new order of things, and have hid behind the ravages of time to await the coming of Ragnarok, when all shall be judged by the standard of justice and truth. Thor may yet be seen as of old. He appears ready for any emergency. He is dressed in his beserk, and wears his gloves and belt of strength. He holds his hammer erect, and has an expression of fierce determination on his countenance, as if he wished to destroy, “not so much the worship of the golden calf as the worship of the gold from which the calf is made.” He has been nick-named Moses. Heimdal is still standing guard at the foot of the rainbow, but he turned into stone when he found that cowards and cheats, without any nobility of soul, could crawl into heaven under the shelter of faith. The Scripture writers have given him two nick-names—he is called indifferently both Peter and Gabriel. Freyia, the goddess of purity and love, has maintained her dignity longer than any of the Æsirs. She held her throne for nearly a thousand years. Her dress was decorated with Ygdrasyl, and the dragons interlace in its branches. She wears a Gothic crown and the sceptre of a Viking queen. But her subjects become weak and degenerate, and when she found that they had forsaken her, she took the veil under the name of Virgin Mary. She has since with meakness (sic) submitted to all kinds of treatment. When I last saw her, she was on a cloud draped with a green curtain. She had been treated thus by Mr. Raphael, a painter of great repute. Odin, the chief of the Æsirs, does not often show his face. He sits on a throne with a veil of centuries over his countenance, but he may be recognized by his two wolves, Gere and Freke, at his side and his spear in his hand.

The reason why all the Æsirs have not retired from Earth to their home in Aesagard may be that they are yet in hopes of re-establishing their kingdom upon the earth, and to break the influence of the Roman schoolmasters as they broke the power of the Roman Emperors.

The doctrine of sacrifice as a necessity for spiritual development was one of the main doctrines of the Æsir religion. Odin had to leave one eye in pawn for a drink from Mimer’s fountain; and how he hung for nine days on the Tree of Life, pierced by a spear, can be seen from the following verse in the Elder Edda:

“I know that I hung
On a wind-rocked tree,
Nine whole nights,
With a spear wounded,
And to Odin offered
Myself to myself,
On that tree
Of which no one knows
From what root it springs.”

He sacrificed himself to himself. This is also one of the main dogmas of the Christian Church. Sacrifice is necessary for all high attainments. There is not anything that can be had for nothing. Only fools and fakirs are inspired. We must practice self-denial and work hard to attain anything. Many have to leave both eyes in pawn for knowledge—for a draught from Mimer’s Fountain. “Can we be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease?” No. “We must fight if we would reign.”

These are Norse ideas. The Valkyries would guide into Valhalla only those who had written runes to Odin, or sacrificed themselves for a noble purpose.

Prof. William Smith, in his “Christian Antiquities,” gives as the reason for there not being any crucifixes before the fifth century that the representation of an actual crucifixion would have been offensive to the heathens. If he had reference the classic heathens this may be true. In fact, probably the whole idea of Christianity would have been offensive to them, had they ever heard of it. But to the Gothic heathens the idea of a crucifix could not have been offensive since it symbolized an idea with which they were perfectly familiar, that of a personal sacrifice of our physical desires as a means to attaining spiritual development.

But what would have been offensive to the Gothic heathen is the representation of God as he is portrayed to us; the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob; a God who induced Jacob to lie and cheat and steal; one who directed the fugitive Israelites to borrow from the Egyptians and then be off with their ill-gotten goods.

Such a God could not have been acceptable to our forefathers, had he been presented to them. Such an idea of God could only have aroused a feeling of contempt. Even yet, with all the church training which we have had for centuries, it seems almost a joke that we should be required to love this God, because he brought the children of Israel out of Egypt; for does it matter to us whether the Jews were making bricks in Egypt or eating milk and honey in Jerusalem?

The common belief that our idea of one God came from the Jews, rests on no other foundation than Jewish arrogance, Gothic credulity cemented together with classic fate. The Jews believe in many gods; only “they believe that their particular god, Jehovah, was a bigger God and a stronger God than any of the other gods. The Jewish conception of God was similar to the Irish conception of St. Patrick. An Irishman once said: “You may talk about Jesus Christ and General Washington, but we had a little man in Ireland by the name of St. Patrick, that could whip both of them.”

Both the name and the attributes of the Egyptian Bacchus seems to indicate that he was the origin of our theological God. His name was Kut, Scandinavian Gud, German Gott, English God. The word means spirit, such spirit as there is in liquor. He was believed to be omnipresent, because everything living will ferment, and omnipotent because if you take enough of it you will own the world.

The belief in God as a Father, the “All-Father,” “our Father which art in heaven,” is a belief that we have inherited from our forefathers. In no mythology but in that of the Norsemen can such conception of God be found.

When Christianity was first introduced there could not have been a very great difference between it and the Gothic religion. The Jewish, Greek and Egyptian ideas, which are now the main substance of Christianity, I believe, to begin with, were merely slight flavorings to the religion of our fathers, or else the great activity in religion for the first few hundred years could not have taken place. It would naturally have been resisted by the heathen priests, who could not have been endowed with much greater meekness and toleration than preachers are to-day. The argument used by the early missionaries, usually attributed to St. Paul, seems to indicate that there was no great difference. “He whom you ignorantly worship, declare I unto you.” They only call the Norse god by a different name, but they maintain the old holidays and usages. They introduced some Greek sophistries instead of the old Scandinavian precepts. For instance—faith, hope and charity were substituted for courage, justice and generosity. I doubt if faith, hope and charity are any virtues at all. It seems to me that they are rather attributes of our nature than principles. There can be no more virtue in a lazy acceptance of what we hear, than there is in sneezing when the high priest takes snuff. “Hope springs eternal in the human breast,” and “a fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind.” Perhaps in many cases charity is nothing but a sickly sentimentality, and may do more harm than good.

The modern idea of the cross, as typifying a sacrifice by proxy, must have been a comparatively late innovation, as there is nothing in early Christian art to indicate the slightest Eastern or Oriental origin. Not only are all the figures represented Gothic, but the the surroundings are Gothic. In one of the most antique pictures I have seen, representing the conversion of St. Paul, he is represented as a Viking, and the buildings in the background are those of Pisa, and the tower wear leaning at the time of Paul’s conversion, just as it does now. Some priests told me this picture was a true representation of St. Paul, and I would not be surprised if it was correct. I believe myself that Paul’s conversion occurred after the tower of Pisa was built. The Goths had no literature, so that it was quite natural, after the animosities between them and the Romans had subsided, that the Italian writers should try to explain the existing faiths and forms from a classic or a Jewish standpoint, since they knew nothing whatever of the Norse religion. Max Muller claims that misunderstanding of Sanscrit poetry furnished the foundation for the history of the Greek gods. The art and lore of the Vikings, I believe, with a small flavoring of Egyptian mythology was, on the same principle, the foundation of the history of the Cross. So I would not be surprised if it could be demonstrated that Upsala came nearer being the starting point of Christianity than Jerusalem.

According to Max Muller, Zeus in Sanscrit means clouds; and in a Hindoo poem there occurs the statement about Zeus, or the large clouds absorbing the smaller clouds. This is not a very shocking statement, but when the meaning of Zeus is changed and Zeus means a person, and it is stated that Zeus is eating his children, you can easily see how necessary it became for the Greek priests to insist on a great deal of faith, as otherwise the Greek church members would not have had a very high opinion of Zeus.

The Greeks were great sticklers for faith. What had been said or decreed by the gods on Olympus assembled, meant a great deal to them. Had it not been for the Greeks we would probably not have had such a word or idea as faith. Faith is a belief in that which is said by the gods, without being based on any experience; and as the Greek priests were the mouth-pieces of the gods then, the same as preachers are now, faith practically means a blind belief in that which is said by the preachers. With us, faith does not amount to very much. When people are initiated into the church, they go through with a regularly prescribed profession of faith, but thanks to our inherited judgment, it never amounts to anything more than simply a profession. Gothic people, as a rule, never believe in anything except what is the result of some kind of experience. They go along and attend to their own business in a common-sense way, and don’t care what the gods decree on Olympus or anywhere else. It is only once in a while that a fanatical wave strikes us. But when it does strike us, it strikes us hard, as can be seen by the Inquisition, the Crusades, the Puritans and the burning of witches.

But if faith, hope and charity are virtues, they are very dangerous virtues and require very careful guarding from outside forces, such as law and social order; while the old virtues, courage, justice and generosity, are always under the mental control of the individual, and can never run into fanaticism.

To start a faith or dogma seems to be comparatively easy, especially if it has a great deal of the fantastic or unreasonable about it. The word faith is derived from the Greek word phemi, meaning to say, hence faith is literally a belief in something merely said.

We can see how some of the most extraordinary beliefs may spring into existence even to-day and may be advanced, not by a lot of ignorant fishermen, who, of course, could be easily imposed upon, but by educated people of good society—people who have traveled all over the world; people who have ridden in sedan chairs in China and Japan, or have ridden on mules from Cairo to the pyramids; people who have seen the flames blare out from Vesuvius, and who have themselves, with their own eyes, seen the glimmer of the blue grotto at Capri; people who have bought feathers cheap at the Bon Marche; and have seen the girls kick up their heels at Moulin-Rouge; people of education who have read all the latest novels, including “Tess” and the “Heavenly Twins,” and who are familiar with Seraphita and the Magic Skin; people who know all about natural law in the Spirit-World, and the scientific treatises by the Duke of Argyle. There are people like these who believe that Mrs. Eddy cannot only make the blind see and the lame walk, but she even raises the dead from their graves. What utility there is in raising anybody from the dead I could never see, as they are usually pretty sure to go off and die again in due course of time; except Lazarus, who, since he was raised by a divine power, may be prowling about yet for all I know, only I have never heard from him since he came to life.

The Mormons are by no means fools, as can be seen from the work which they have done; and yet they believe that Joe Smith walked on the water. But take for granted that the miraculous stories that we read are perfectly true; that Mrs. Eddy can heal the sick and raise the dead; that Joe Smith walked on the water; that Jesus fed ten thousand people with a few loaves of bread and a few fishes; that St. Patrick banished the snakes and frogs from Ireland; there is no force or power in any or all of these stories that works for righteousness. Neither you nor I, nor anybody else, is going to be better or worse whether these things happened or not.

There is something in the miracle about the loaves and fishes which I think decidedly reflects on the character of Jesus. To have such a power, and then allow a poor sinner to lie at the door of a rich man and beg for crumbs from his table, seems to be very inconsistent. If he did not wish to set up a boarding house in Jerusalem and make money out of it, he might have set up a house of entertainment for the poor as a philanthropic enterprise.

If people who do miracles mean to call general attention to the importance of their ideas or personalities, it seems to me they would make a greater impression by raising up some of the old mummies and keeping them alive and going. If that were done, it is likely that with our present facilities for travel, the world might be converted in a very short time. There would then be no use for any apostles to puzzle people.

No matter what God is in the abstract, to each individual he can only be that individual’s highest conception. “An honest God is the noblest work of man.” A man’s religion rises no higher than his intellectual development. So the fact that the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob is our highest conception of God, goes to prove our mental darkness and consequent moral degradation.

I believe that this distorted conception of God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, has undermined and corrupted the whole moral system of our organization, and that there can be no improvement until we are mentally developed sufficiently to conceive of an honest God. The introduction of this strange God has had a damaging effect. It inspires none of the high ideas of honor, courage and justice of our forefathers. Everything is put on a mercantile basis. Avarice, which used to be considered a vice, is now deemed a virtue. To have been rich and a church member is good enough for an epitaph, and is a combination that is certainly hard to beat in this world. To be “sharp as a razor” or “smart as a whip,” which means to make money and keep out of jail, is virtue enough with which any boy can go through the world. Money will heal the wounds of every insult, and is considered a sufficient compensation for defamation of character. It is a common saying that “every man has his price.” So, also, the law puts a price on every man’s character if he desires redress. Character is at a discount, unless it is judiciously used as an advertising medium, as can be inferred from remarks like this: “He is a good fellow, but he is not making any money.” “Has he or she any money?” is usually the first question regarding a stranger. But the fact that there are good fellows who are not making money, or scheming to get what others have earned or inherited, shows that all honest and generous people are not dead yet. But good fellows who are not making money are not apt to have a very high standing, either in the business world or in the Christian Church.

From what I can see in early Christian art, Christianity fell into bad hands when it was young. It fell to strangers who warped it to suit their politics and, when it was about grown, (about the time of the Renaissance) it became voluptuous and corrupt by association with bad company, nude art, lewd literature, and is now in its old age about to starve to death, having nothing but platitudes on which to feed.

The nude art of the Greeks and Romans may have been elevating to them, as it was the embodiment of their highest conceptions and was probably true art to them, since their religious emotions recognized and in were in sympathy with the ideas which these figures meant to represent. But to us it can suggest nothing but sensuality, no matter how well the anatomy of the figure may be portrayed, as our emotions are not in harmony with the ideas that these figures represent. So, if nude art appeals to us at all, it can only do so on account of the workmanship, except where there is an expression indicating pain, which appeals to our sympathy.

Religion and art are like body and soul; we can have no conception of one without the other. Religion without art is merely vulgar superstition, and art without religion is nothing but handicraft. For art to be anything more than stock in trade, artists must be priests and teachers rather than traders. Only in the religion of our forefathers can artists find such inspiration as will elevate the spirit to such a conception of the good, the beautiful and the true in life and nature, as to enable them to reflect the true spirit of religion to the world.

I do not mean to say that the practices of our early forefathers were in all instances commendable. I mean only that the fundamental principles of their religion were the highest principles on which a religious system can be based. Courage, honor, truth, fidelity, justice and generosity are the powers that work for righteousness. They are the manifestation of God’s spirit in man. In the Norse mythology these principles are represented as the living waters that flow from the fountain of Urda, the fountain of the Ideal. These are the waters that cleanse from all unrighteousness. These are the Nornos or Fates that will guard us through time and guide us into eternity.

All natural laws are God’s laws, and are the only true and reliable revelations of Him, and only by understanding them can we come to a knowledge of God. “To him who in the love of nature holds communion with her visible forms, she speaks a various language.” But we must understand the language. This religion of our forefathers was an interpretation of this language. It was a worship of God as he was revealed in nature. Every phenomenon of nature was looked upon as a manifestation of God, and every manifestation was personified, not deified. They personified the phenomena of nature, and the emotions, in the same manner as is done by children before they are spoiled by conventional training. A child will talk to its doll and dog, to the sun, moon and stars and to its own emotions. They were the children of nature, and could all sit in her lap—”in the lap of nature, the good, old nurse, and listen to the stories of the universe.”

As yet very little study has been given to the Æsir religion. Nowhere except in a few American colleges is any attention given to either the language or the religion of our forefathers. But I believe that before long they will become more generally known, as they are the foundation of both our language and religion; and when they become popular, and the Eddas are taught in the Sunday-schools instead of the books of Moses, I believe that the dormant sentiments of our inheritance will spring into life and will revive integrity in business, consistency in religion and purity in art. In this religion there is unlimited scope for the artists, and as a reasonable hope for man, promising that when his “summon comes, he may wrap the drapery of his couch about him, and lie down to pleasant dreams.”

References

• “Norrman’s Views Criticized”. The Atlanta Constitution, 7 January 1899, p. 10.
• “In Pagan Gods”. Cincinnati Enquirer, 17 November 1909, p. 9.