Part 15 (2/2)

Naturally in a country so undisturbed and isolated as Finland, fantastic mythology took firm root, and we certainly find the most romantic and weird verses in connection with the chief heroes of the _Kalevala_, namely, _Wainamoinen_ and _Ilmarinen_, who broadly resemble the Norse demiG.o.ds Odin and Thor.

After any one has been to Finland, he reads the _Kalevala_ with amazement. What pen could describe more faithfully the ways of the people? Every line is pregnant with life. Their food, their clothing, their manners and customs, their thoughts and characteristics are all vividly drawn, as they were hundreds of years ago, and as they remain to-day.

When we peep into the mysteries of the _Kalevala_ and see how trees are sacred, how animals are mythological, as, for instance, in the forty-sixth rune, which speaks of the bear who ”was born in lands between sun and moon, and died not by man's deeds, but by his own will,”

we understand the Finnish people. Indeed the wolf, the horse, the duck, and all animals find their place in this wondrous _Kalevala_; and dream stories are woven round each creature till the whole life of Finland has become impregnated by a fantastic sort of romance.

The _Kalevala_ opens with a creation myth of the earth, sea, and sky from an egg, but instead of the heroes living in some supernatural home of their own, they come down from heaven, distribute gifts among men, and work their wonders by aid of magic, at the same time living with the people, and entering into their daily toils.

It is strange that the self-developing egg should occur in the _Kalevala_ of Northern Europe, for it also appears among the Hindoos and other Eastern peoples, pointing, maybe, to the Mongolian origin of the Finnish people.

The way the life of the people is depicted seems simply marvellous, and the description holds good even at the present time. For instance, these lines taken at hazard speak of spinning, etc.--

Many beauteous things the maiden, With the spindle has accomplished, Spun and woven with her fingers; Dresses of the finest texture She in winter has upfolded, Bleached them in the days of spring-time, Dried them at the hour of noonday, For our couches finest linen, For our heads the softest pillows, For our comfort woollen blankets.

Or, again, speaking of the bride's home, it likens the father-in-law to her father, and describes the way they all live together in Finland even to-day, and bids her accept the new family as her own--

Learn to labour with thy kindred; Good the home for thee to dwell in, Good enough for bride and daughter.

At thy hand will rest the milk-pail, And the churn awaits thine order; It is well here for the maiden, Happy will the young bride labour, Easy are the resting branches; Here the host is like thy father, Like thy mother is the hostess, All the sons are like thy brothers, Like thy sisters are the daughters.

Here is another touch--the shoes made from the plaited birch bark, so commonly in use even at the present time; and, again, the bread made from bark in times of famine has ever been the Finnish peasant's food--

Even sing the lads of Lapland In their straw-shoes filled with joyance, Drinking but a cup of water, Eating but the bitter tan bark.

These my dear old father sang me When at work with knife or hatchet; These my tender mother taught me When she twirled the flying spindle, When a child upon the matting By her feet I rolled and tumbled.

To-day, Finnish women still wash in the streams, and they beat their clothes upon the rocks just as they did hundreds, one might say thousands, of years ago and more--for the greater part of _Kalevala_ was most undoubtedly written long before the Christian era in Finland.

Northlands fair and slender maiden Was.h.i.+ng on the sh.o.r.e a head-dress, Beating on the rocks her garments, Rinsing there her silken raiment.

In the following rune we find an excellent description of the land, and even a line showing that in those remote days trees were burned down to clear the land, the ashes remaining for manure--a common practice now.

Groves arose in varied beauty, Beautifully grew the forests, And again, the vines and flowers.

Birds again sang in the tree-tops, Noisily the merry thrushes, And the cuckoos in the birch-trees; On the mountains grew the berries, Golden flowers in the meadows, And the herbs of many colours, Many lands of vegetation; But the barley is not growing.

_Osma's_ barley will not flourish, Not the barley of _Wainola_, If the soil be not made ready, If the forest be not levelled, And the branches burned to ashes.

Only left the birch-tree standing For the birds a place of resting, Where might sing the sweet-voiced cuckoo, Sacred bird in sacred branches.

One could go on quoting pa.s.sages from this strange epic--but suffice it to say that in the forty-sixth rune _Wainamoinen_ speaks to _Otso_, the bear--

_Otso_, thou my well beloved, Honey eater of the woodlands, Let not anger swell thy bosom.

_Otso_ was not born a beggar, Was not born among the rushes, Was not cradled in a manger; Honey-paw was born in ether In the regions of the Moonland.

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