Conybeare, the first edition of Beowulf was that which the late Dr Thorkelin published at Copenhagen in 1815; and we venture to assert that a more presumptuous or ignorant attempt at editorship was never exhibited. Such a book, so far from promoting the knowledge of the subject, was calculated greatly to retard it; and it was only within these few years that Mr Kemble's labours for the first time put us in possession of the text in a correct and authentic form; at a distance probably of about a thousand years after it had been committed to writing among our ancestors. It is truly remarkable that a poem of so much merit and interest should have remained latent so long; and it is to be lamented that even now it should be darkened by so many obscurities, and defaced by so many corruptions and mutilations, both of the manuscript and probably also of the poem itself, before it assumed a written shape. It is certain that in its original structure it must have been composed in times of Paganism, if not even at a date anterior to the Saxon settlement of England. But all traces of the higher Pagan mythology have been carefully effaced, and adventitious allusions to Christianity introduced. A large part of it has obviously been lost, and much of it has been written by a scribe who had a very imperfect comprehension of its meaning; while, even where it has not been corrupted, the allusions are obscure, and not fully elucidated by any other records of the Teutonic traditions. With all its imperfections, however, we see the genuine gold shining through the rust of ages. The hero Beowulf presents a characteristic picture of a Teutonic warrior of the highest gradesomething far above the vikings of a later age-one whose valour and superhuman strength are devoted, not to causeless contests or unjust aggressions, but to wars with demons, dragons, and all evil things,-labours for extirpating the enemies of mankind, whether fabulous or mythical;-labours which, though sometimes degenerating from so high a standard, have always held a favourite place in Teutonic story, and which, in earlier times, gave glory and immortality to the Grecian Hercules and his companions. The representations of the fiendish monsters, 'wet and dry,' with which Beowulf contends single-handed-their submarine or subterranean abodes and mystical treasures, the terrors of the combat, the glories and rejoicings of the triumph, the gentleness and goodness throughout of the victorious chief, though so mighty a beast of war,' his ultimate death in the midst of a victory over the pestilential worm' that had desolated his people, the tender attachment which bound to him in his last perils the faithful Wiglaf alone among all his followers, and the grief with which his subjects consigned him to the funeral

6

pile-all these are depicted with truth and earnestness, and in a spirit of chivalrous magnanimity, and of that true poetry which cannot fail to flow from a clear vision of noble things. Even in Mr Kemble's literal translation, made purposely, with a philological object, as close to the original as possible, a careful and intelligent eye will see those beauties which the few alone can fully appreciate in the original.

The remarkable poems which pass under the name of Cadmon, appear to us to merit the admiration they have received. Whether they are the genuine remains of that celebrated person it may be difficult to determine; but if they are not, we must add another, though a nameless man of genius, to the list of AngloSaxon poets. A literal and linear version, such as Mr Thorpe's purpose required, affords a very inadequate means of estimating the true dignity and force of the composition; but even through the dim haze of such a medium, we think the brightness of the original must strike upon the eyes of those who know how to look for it, and the few passages translated by Mr Conybeare will help them in their estimate. If these fragments had related to a Pagan theme, they would have been more admired; but we cannot allow their merit to be depreciated because they are founded on the book of Genesis; which, among a people recently Christianized, had the additional interest of novelty to recommend them. In some points, the originality of the poems may be thus diminished; but this remark is not universal in its application. In his account of the rebellious angels, and of the fall of man, we do not sufficiently know the sources from which the poet derived those details which have been engrafted on Scripture; but which, both in their substance and expression, indicate a power that has been justly termed Miltonic. Indeed, we cannot help thinking that the light of Cadmon's poetry was in a great measure lost in the blaze of Milton's glory, which, by a singular accident, rose upon the world about the very period at which Cadmon was first introduced, by Junius, to the few antiquaries who had eyes to see his beauty. If Milton had not now made the subject his own, and thrown every other effort to illustrate it into the shade, men would turn, we think, to Satan's words and Satan's character, as presented to us by the Anglo-Saxon poet, with a deep and fearful interest, and a genuine veneration for his powers. Mr Conybeare's version of a few passages, though not critically correct, is sufficiently near the truth to afford ordinary readers an opportunity of judging on this point for themselves,-if at least they have that spirit of liberal allowance which is called for in every estimate of poetry, formed through the intervention of a translation.

The fine poem of Judith might deserve more to be said in its praise than we have here room to afford it. The subject, from the strong and striking contrasts which the character and situations present, seems excellently fitted for poetry as well as for painting; and we think it has been well and worthily treated by the Anglo-Saxon writer. The loud and licentious revels of the heathen tyrant, so soon doomed to die; the firm and fearless piety of the Hebrew maiden, (for the Anglo-Saxon story does not seem to recognise her as a widow ;) her prayer for faith and: strength as her appointed victim lay sunk in the sleep of drunkenness before her; the murder and the escape; her reception among her people, her announcement of their deliverance, and her exhortation to immediate action; the attack on the infidel camp, and the despair of its inmates at discovering their leader's death; the conflict, and the victory that crowns it-all these situations and occurrences are forcibly and feelingly set before us in noble and graceful language, and with much bold and beautiful imagery. It has been said by a competent judge, that 'this fragment, perhaps more than any other composition, leads ' us to form a very high idea of the poetic powers of our fore'fathers. The entire poem, of which it probably formed but an 'inconsiderable portion, must have been a noble production.'

The poems recently discovered in the Vercelli manuscript, seem next to require our notice. Two alone of these relics have been published-consisting of a Legend of St Andrew, and the story of Elene, the mother of Constantine, which bears the name also of the Invention of the Cross. They are both unquestionably of great value, and are impressed with a very characteristic stamp. If the subjects had been of native origin, they would have been of higher interest; but the apocryphal traditions of Christian martyrs and proselytes had become the sagas of all Christendom; and except for the serious drawback not then understood, of their confounding truth with falsehood in things too sacred to admit of such a mixture, they were as well calculated to exert the talents of the poets, and to excite the interest of the people, as any themes drawn from secular sources. In the compositions to which we refer, the subjects are indeed exotic, but the treatment of them is original and indigenous. The Andreas has been printed and translated by Mr Kemble among the invaluable publications of the Elfric Society. The Elene, which seems superior to its companion, was only printed in this country for the Record Commission; but has appeared, though without a translation, in an excellent edition of both the poems by Grimm, with valuable notes and an admirable introduction,-presenting, as we think, a just and impartial view of the character and merits of Anglo-Saxon poetry.

Some are apt to look at these legends with contempt or dislike; but their value and influence as embodied in early national literature, demand a more indulgent and favourable sentence:

It is true,' as Mr Kemble well says, 'that they are of little interest in their Latin or Greek forms, except in as far as they may have influenced the universal mind of Europe at the commencement of our modern civilization in the early German translations, however, they have remained to supply the most important materials for the history of the thoughts, feelings, and mind of the Teutonic races. For, partly through the strong nationality of the Anglo-Saxons, partly through the existence of a peculiar language devoted to a particular use, the classical original becomes an equally original Germanic poem in all but the subject, and having so become, bears in very many of its details the strong impress of early, and even heathen tradition.'

Several legendary poems, but of unequal, and generally of inferior merit, are to be found in the Codex Exoniensis, of which, after some tantalizing glimpses, and partial specimens, the public is now in full possession in the edition of Mr Thorpe. The same collection, however, contains many miscellaneous examples of the poetry of our ancestors; some of them entire and intelligible, among which the Phonix, and the smaller moral poems are the best; others, in a detached or fragmentary form, calculated to excite both our admiration of what remains, and our regret for what is lost. Of these last, The Ruin, as Mr Thorpe has called it, is the most remarkable; and although a mere remnant, enough of it, as he conceives, is left to show that in its ⚫ entire state it must have been one of the noblest productions of the Anglo-Saxon muse.' It describes a rich and wondrous city laid low, yet bearing in its prostration the tokens of its former gladness and glory. The picture reminds us strangely of the very language and literature of which it is a relic. The speech of our forefathers has crumbled into fragments. Their poetry, the work of giants,' lies mouldering in the dust;-its splendour obscured, its dignity decayed, its proportions mutilated, and its very meaning and purpose but dimly perceived,―till men have even dared to doubt whether joy and intelligence could once have been seen and heard amidst its now desolate abodes.

We have not attempted a full enumeration of all the minor compositions of merit which might be noticed in Anglo-Saxon poetry; nor shall we now dwell on those pieces,-such as the Traveller's Song, and the Battle of Finnesburgh, which have more of antiquarian than of literary interest; though even these shed abroad some bright gleams of antique glory. Nor do we touch upon others of a more recent and historical character, though it would be impossible to omit all mention of the Death of Byrhtnoth,-a

fragment, of which the beauty and spirit have been long known through the notice and partial translation of it given in Mr Conybeare's illustrations. After all that we could say, Anglo-Saxon literature must be regarded and judged of at present as a literature that has been very imperfectly preserved; and is therefore entitled to every equitable presumption in its favour. But looking to what has occurred within our own day, we cannot help cherishing, with Mr Thorpe, the belief, that much of it may yet exist among the half-explored manuscript treasures of this and other 'countries;' and that erelong still further, perhaps more favourable specimens, than any heretofore known, of the poetry of our ancestors may be brought to light.

Το

It is impossible to deny the difficulty of the study of AngloSaxon poetry. But thanks to the skill and industry of the few labourers engaged on it, the path is becoming every day more smooth, and the results to which it leads more satisfactory. We have disclaimed all comparison with the poetry of other periods or countries. But to all who desire to look upon the native development of genius and intellect,-to all to whom the history of the Teutonic, and still more of the English mind, is interesting, the poetry of the Saxons of England ought to be familiar. those who are not bigoted to fixed forms, or warped by stubborn prejudices, the task will be its own reward. That poetry possesses a character of a decided and superior kind. Dignified and stately, perhaps sometimes pompous and tumid; highly imaginative and metaphorical, though using often the language of metaphor as mere conventional phraseology; simple in purpose, unsullied in purity of thought, and elevated by a strong fervour of devotion; delighting to dwell with mystical awe on the great elements and objects of nature, the sun, the sea, the clouds, the stars, the storms; dreaming in a confiding spirit of the agency and visible presence of superhuman powers and principles, whether good or bad; of fiends and giants leagued against God and man, or of whiterobed angels travelling on missions of kindness between earth and heaven; rejoicing with the inborn enthusiasm of a warlike people in visions of battle and bloodshed, in the triumphs of victory, and in the banquet of birds and beasts of prey upon the unhappy slain, yet tempering this ferocity with a pious and generous spirit, that wars only in a righteous cause these are some of the most striking features of Saxon poetry, and which make it not unworthy of the land which Spenser and Milton were afterwards to glorify.

Of the prose works of the Anglo-Saxons we have much less to say. We have already shown that their literature had not then reached the stage at which popular interest or admiration