Archaeologically the poem was not correct, and was not meant to be. Tegner distinctly disclaimed the intention of producing a historically accurate picture of the saga age; and all criticism censuring the modernness of Frithjofs and Ingeborg's sentiments is, therefore, according to his idea, wide of the mark. I do not quite agree with his point of view, but will state his argument. For the historical Frithjof, as he is represented in the ancient Norse saga bearing his name, Tegner cared but little. What he wished to do was to give a poetic presentation of the old heroic life, and he chose Frithjof as his representative of this age because he united in himself so many of its characteristics: "In the saga much occurs which is very grand and heroic, and hence valid for all times, which both might and ought to be retained; but, on the other hand, a great deal occurs which is rough, savage, barbarous; and this had either to be entirely eliminated, or at least materially softened. Up to a certain degree it therefore became necessary to modernize; but the difficulty was to find the golden mean. On the one hand, the poem ought not to offend too much our more refined manners and gentler modes of thought; but, on the other hand, the natural quality, the freshness, the truth to nature ought not to be sacrificed." Tegner fancies he has solved this problem by retaining in Frithjof the fundamental traits of all heroism, viz., nobility, magnanimity, courage; but at the same time nationalizing them by giving them a distinctly Scandinavian tinge. And this he has done by making his hero almost wantonly defiant, stubborn, pugnacious. As Ingeborg, lamenting his fierce pugnacity, and yet glorying in it, says: "How glad, how stubborn, and how full of hope! The point he setteth of his trusty sword Against the breast of Fate and crieth, Thou must yield." "Another peculiarity of the Norseman's character is a certain tendency to sadness and melancholy which is habitual with all deeper natures. An elegiac tone pervades all our old national melodies, and, generally speaking, all that is of significance in our history; for it rises from the very bottom of the nation's heart. There is a certain joyousness (commonly attributed to the French) which in the last instance is only levity. But the joyousness of the North is fundamentally serious; for which reason I have in Frithjof endeavored to give a hint of this brooding melancholy in his repentance of the unintentional burning of the temple, his brooding fear of Balder, "Who sits in the sky, and the thoughts he sends down, Which forever are clouding my mind."