extend outside of the race, but a justice that would be exercised between man and man of the same blood.  Very much of English character and of English history is explained by the life that the “Havamal” portrays.  Very much that is good; also very much that is bad—­not bad in one sense, so far as the future of the race is concerned, but in a social way certainly not good.  The judgment of the Englishman by all other European peoples is that he is the most suspicious, the most reserved, the most unreceptive, the most unfriendly, the coldest hearted, and the most domineering of all Western peoples.  Ask a Frenchman, an Italian, a German, a Spaniard, even an American, what he thinks about Englishmen; and every one of them will tell you the very same thing.  This is precisely what the character of men would become who had lived for thousands of years in the conditions of Northern society.  But you would find upon the other hand that nearly all nations would speak highly of certain other English qualities—­energy, courage, honour, justice (between themselves).  They would say that although no man is so difficult to make friends with, the friendship of an Englishman once gained is more strong and true than any other.  And as the battle of life still continues, and must continue for thousands of years to come, it must be acknowledged that the English character is especially well fitted for the struggle.  Its reserves, its cautions, its doubts, its suspicions, its brutality—­these have been for it in the past, and are still in the present, the best social armour and panoply of war.  It is not a lovable nor an amiable character; it is not even kindly.  The Englishman of the best type is much more inclined to be just than he is to be kind, for kindness is an emotional impulse, and the Englishman is on his guard against every kind of emotional impulse.  But with all this, the character is a grand one, and its success has been the best proof of its value.

Now you will have observed in the reading of this ancient code of social morals that, while none of the teaching is religious, some of it is absolutely immoral from any religious standpoint.  No great religion permits us to speak what is not true, and to smile in the face of an enemy while pretending to be his friend.  No religion teaches that we should “pay back lesing for lies.”  Neither does a religion tell us that we should expect a return for every kindness done; that we should regard friendship as being actuated by selfish motives; that we should never praise when praise seems to be deserved.  In fact, when Sir Walter Scott long ago made a partial translation of the “Havamal,” he thought himself obliged to leave out a number of sentences which seemed to him highly immoral, and to apologize for others.  He thought that they would shock English readers too much.