Thus, by the retention of holy oaks, of idolatrous feasts, of pagan symbols and ceremonies, of the heathen names for the days of the week, the new religion gained entrance. In Ireland, where the problem to be faced was remarkably complex, the Christianization of pagan myths was very noticeable[91]. Here, the very names of the feasts long continued as in pagan times. Only when the conciliatory policy had “eased the yoke of the new ordinances,” was it possible to take drastic measures, and to extrude heathenism from the places of worship[92]. But this time was slow in coming. In the heart of the Empire, as Friedlander has shown us, the triumphant Christians did, indeed, assimilate many heathen practices, yet they strove hard to stifle paganism altogether. On the other hand, all over Northern Europe, the spirit of compromise was at work. In Sweden, during this transition period, old associations were so strong that prayers to Thor and Freya were often mingled with Christian orisons[93]. Professor F. Kauffmann speaks of the great temple of Upsala, with its evergreen tree, and its mysterious sacrificial well, which received the bodies of the slain. So late as the eleventh century, this temple still stood in all its splendour[94]. Professor O. Montelius, while noting the frequency with which sacred stone-circles are associated with the church, considers that the cromlechs were not places of sacrifice, but of judgement. This idea is gaining ground in England, where also there is a tendency to change the nomenclature of megaliths. (To avoid confusion, it must be noted that “dolmen,” in these chapters, refers to a “table-stone,” that is, several upright stones capped by a flat one. “Cromlech” is used in its Breton sense of stone-circle, not in Welsh and Cornish significations of table-stone, nor in Sir Norman Lockyer’s restricted connotation--a kind of “irregular vault generally open at one end.”) At Gamla Upsala, near Upsala, a church was built on the site of a temple, which was the traditional burial place of Odin, and the centre of his worship. Modern excavations at this spot have yielded bones of horses, pigs, and hawks, together with relics of gold and silver[95]. This example is instructive, alike for its testimony to the value of folk-memory, and for its illustration of the employment of a pagan site. But, indeed, example can be piled upon example. At the Danish coast-town of Veile (or Vejle), two barrows, locally known as the graves of King Gorm and his queen, stand by the churchyard. Hard by are ancient stone monuments, bearing runic inscriptions[96].