Sweden furnishes us with a second instance, though not so ancient as the preceding. We have already seen that, during the pressure of a famine, Olaf Trætelia was sacrificed to the gods.[261] The remedy, however, was unavailing; the scourge became still greater, and the people removed into Norway. Two centuries after this period, one third of the Danes, says Peter Olaf, were thus driven into exile; and they selected Prussia, Carelia, Samogitia, and other shores of the Baltic, as their future abodes. This evil was more ancient than we usually suppose. We find laws, permitting the exposure of infants where the parents were unable to support them, before Christianity was known to the Franks, or Bavarians, or Swabians, or any other of the Germanic tribes. Where no temporary law was made for the expatriation of a certain number of the people, the more adventurous would often retire of their own accord. The Scandinavians were no strangers to the sea; from their childhood they were accustomed to fish in their bays, gulfs, mouths of rivers, and other parts of their coasts. This exercise made them familiar with the management of small vessels, and led them to regard the watery element as no less friendly than land. As they became inured to the business, and extended their voyages, they learned where particular species of fish were most abundant. It is probable that at a very early period all the coasts of the Baltic were thus visited.[262] These circumstances combined will explain the superior dexterity of the Scandinavians and other Baltic nations in the management of vessels. If want of subsistence led them to the deep, whether through expatriation, or the hope of successful fishing, other causes made them pirates. It was easier to take a vessel well laden with that useful commodity than to catch it; and when, in these practices, the crew of one hostile tribe met the crew of another, a battle was sure to follow. By degrees, vessels for piracy alone were equipped; nor were the objects of plunder confined to fish: the houses near the sea-coasts had other articles of food, other commodities, which would enrich the pirate’s home. The dangers attending a profession where the crews were necessarily armed, were not likely to damp the spirit of adventure. Courage was a part of the Northman’s religion; death in battle was a good, since it introduced him at once to the enjoyments of Odin’s hall,—enjoyments far exceeding whatever this world could furnish. Piracy, then, was the necessary result of the Scandinavian’s position; and it must have been practised more anciently than most historians admit. Tacitus tells us that in his time the Suiones were formidable by their fleets. Navigation, indeed, could not be in its infancy, when such colonies as that of the Picts undertook voyages so long and hazardous. It could not be in its infancy during the third century, when Caransius was nominated by the Roman