and poetry, of his race, in a prose that is one of the glories of the age.
The perplexing story of Snorri's life, told by his nephew, Sturla Thórdsson,[1] may well be omitted from this brief discussion, A careful and scholarly account of it by Eiríkr Magnússon[2] will be found in the introduction to the sixth volume of The Saga Library. From Snorri's marriage in 1199 to his assassination at the hands of his son-in-law, Gizurr Thórvaldsson, in 1241, there was little in his life which his biographer could relate with satisfaction. His friends, his relatives, his very children, Snorri sacrificed to his insatiate ambition. As chief and as lawman, he gave venal decisions and perverted justice; he purposed at any cost to become the most powerful man in Iceland. There is even ground for belief that he deliberately undertook to betray the republic to Hákon of Norway, and that only his lack of courage prevented him from subverting his country's liberty. Failure brought about his death, for Snorri, who had been a favorite at the Norwegian court, incurred the King's suspicion after fifteen years had passed with no accomplishment, and daring to leave Norway against Hákon's command, he fell under the royal displeasure. Gizurr, his murderer, proved to have been acting at the express order of the King.
Eiríkr Magnússon, in the admirable biography to which I have referred, attempts to apologize for Snorri's faults on the ground that he "really compares very favorably with the leading contemporary godar [chieftains] of the land." It is true that he made no overt attempt to keep his treasonable
