Or, rather, is not the legend as a whole far older than the fifth century, but, as it has come down to us, influenced by certain events, and partly adapted (how slightly we have seen) to the lives of certain personages of that century? On these questions M. Lichtenberger's attitude is agnostic. Here again he faithfully reflects the temper of current German scholarship. But his analysis of each incident, and of the life-history of each personage, is so full and acute, that his readers are enabled to form a more definite conclusion if they like.
If the legend as a whole existed prior to the fifth century there would be a likelihood of its being pan-Germanic; and in this case the differences between the versions might be set down to the original legend-germ having produced different growths in North and South. Against this possibility is the undoubted fact that the Northern version, as we have it, shows unmistakable traces of derivation from Germany, and in especial from the Rhine valley. Again, if it can be shown that the later version, differ howsomuch it may from the earlier one, has yet preserved distinct traces of it, a strong presumption is created that the legend had its origin among one distinct race and in one distinct series of events. I have already alluded to M. Lichtenberger's ingenious explanation of the difference between the Atli of the Volsunga saga and of the Etzel of the Nibelungenlied—the latter has transferred his active evil rôle to Kriemhild. Another instance is made much of by M. Lichtenberger. In the Volsunga saga Gudrun slays her children by Atli as part of her vengeance upon her kinsmen's murderer. In the Nibelungenlied, Kriemhild's child by Etzel is also slain, apparently with her consent. Evidently, says M. Lichtenberger, although the motive for the child slaughter has disappeared, the incident itself has subsisted.
In this connection I may be allowed to note one of the few instances in which M. Lichtenberger has remained ignorant of previous research. Nearly ten years ago I
