SNORRO STURLESON, for so his name is most frequently written, was the last and the greatest of the northern scalds, and was born at Hoam, in the bailiwick of Dale, in the western province of Iceland, in 1178. He was descended, like all families of consequence among the Northmen, from the royal line of Odin, and held by hereditary right the dignity of a godar, or priest and judge over his immediate locality. Following the custom of the time, young Snorro was sent to be fostered by one John Lopston, a person of some consideration both for the literary renown which still lingered in his family, and from his near claims to the notice of royalty, being by his mother an illegitimate grandchild of King Magnus Barefoot. The reminiscences of such a household would be peculiarly favourable for the growing genius of the future chronicler. Before Snorro had reached his nineteenth year, his father, Sturla Thordarson, had died. He likewise lost, at that age, his generous foster-father, John Lopston. As he advanced in years he was observed to be passionate, sanguine, and daring. He married at the age of twenty-one, and got a considerable dowry by his wife. He had several children by this woman, besides a number of illegitimate ones. He made a journey to Norway about 1221, where it is supposed he collected the information given in his saga regarding Sweden, Denmark, and Norway; and where he was made cup-bearer or chamberlain to King Hakon. Tired of the affections of his first wife, in 1224, he took to himself a rich widow with a large fortune. His sons, and his sons-in-law, now allied themselves against him, and resolved, by fair or foul play, to seize upon the fortunes to which they were justly entitled. It is reported of Snorro that, when the young kinsmen strove to obtain their own by legal means, he went with 600 or 800 men, and obtained by force the decision which he desired. This passionate, self-willed, obstinate man, over whom the moral sense had no control, and in whom the intellect rose to the confines of genius, used all his Titanic strength, and rude, wild energy, to break up this family feud, and strew its dissentient members abroad over the world. The young scions of his house had probably not a little of his own fierceness and lawlessness, combined with a vindictiveness that would have done honour to a Corsican, and they resolved to wait and watch their opportunity, and accomplish by stealth what they could not compass by publicity.