King Alfred's Anglo-Saxon Version of the Metres of Boethius, with an English translation, and notes, by the Rev. Samuel Fox, M.A. of Pembroke College, Oxford; translator of the Poetical Calender of the AngloSaxons.

A TASTE for Anglo-Saxon literature is still increasing. The most unequivocal proof of this is, the constant demand for standard Anglo-Saxon books. To meet this demand, several works in prose and poetry have within a few years been published. Among those in prose we have "The Will of King Alfred," with an English translation and notes, a well-edited and neatly executed volume of 32 pages. Mr. Cardale's fine but cheap edition of King Alfred's Anglo-Saxon Version of Boethius De Consolatione Philosophie, with an amended text, and a very valuable literal English version, with learned and judicious notes. More recently Mr. Thorpe has favoured the public with a neat and cheap edition of the interesting story of Apollonius of Tyre. The Saxon text cannot be too much commended for its accuracy, and for the care which has been taken in giving the accents precisely as in the MS. The English version deserves praise for its accuracy and spirit. Commendation is due to the AngloSaxon text, and the English translation, of the same gentleman's larger and far more difficult work, Cadman's metrical paraphrase of parts of the Holy Scriptures, with notes, and a verbal index. In poetry we have also The Menologium, or Poetical Calender of the Anglo-Saxons: it has attracted our attention by its neatness, and secured our approbation by the care with which it was prepared by the Rev. S. Fox. We ought not to forget the neat edition of Beowulf, by J. M. Kemble, Esq. This fine but difficult poem should be accompanied with a translation and notes, which, with an AngloSaxon Glossary, by the same editor, is, we hear, on the eve of publication. The last and the most deserving of our present notice is the Rev. S. Fox's edition of King Alfred's Version of the GENT. MAG. VOL. IV.

Metres of Boethius. Here we have a corrected Anglo-Saxon text, with a literal and spirited English translation, which in a striking manner often represents the style and rhythm of the Anglo-Saxon. He has judiciously followed the MS., and because that is without accents, he has omitted them in his very neatly printed volume.

Mr. Cardale has well observed that the works of Alfred have been always classed among those writings which exhibit the Anglo-Saxon language in its greatest purity. Considered in this point of view, every one of his literary productions is interesting and valuable.

But his Boethius possesses a higher claim to attention. In his other translations, Alfred has seldom introduced any original matter. In this, on the contrary, he aspires to the character of an original author; exercises his own judgment; amplifies some parts, abridges others, and adds a variety of remarks and illustrations. The work of Boethius, De Consolatione Philosophie, independently of its intrinsic merit, is interesting from the circumstances under which it was written. Boethius, a Christian philosopher, was made consul in A.D. 510. For his defence of Albinus, Theodoric the Gothic King of Italy cast him into prison. This immortal work was composed during his long confinement, which was terminated by his death. It furnishes a practical illustration of its own lessons, and proves that the author, under his misfortunes, enjoyed every consolation which religion and philosophy could afford. To considerations of this sort may be attributed the general predilection for this work during the middle ages. We have reason to believe that Alfred received comfort from it during the calamities which attended the early part of his reign.

Alfred's poetical versions of the metres was a subsequent work. The introduction, originally prefixed to the Cottonian MS. and therefore properly given by Mr. Fox, is evidently not the production of Alfred himself, as will be clear from the first five lines. H

No more the Trojan's wandering voyage boast, coast; What storms he brav'd on many a per❜lous No more let Rome exult in Trojan's

name,

Her eastern conquests Ammon's pride procla m.

A nobler hero's deeds demand my lays Than e'er adorn'd a song of ancient days. Illustrious Gama, whom the waves obey'd, And whose dread sword the fate of empires sway'd!

And you, fair nymph of Tagus! parent stream, [theme, If e'er your meadows were my pastoral While you have listen'd, and by moonshine seen, [green; My footsteps wander o'er your banks of Oh come! auspicious, and the song inspire, With all the boldness of your hero's fire; Deep and majestic let the numbers flow, And rapt to Heaven with ardent fury glow. Unlike the verse that speaks the lover's grief, [relief; When heaving sighs afford their soft And humble reeds bewail the shepherd's [strain, But like the warlike trumpet be the To rouse the hero's ire; and far around With equal rage your warrior's deed resound

pain

And with the song, your fame, great Kings, be blended,

Who far around your faith and empire

spread;

Whose heavy wrath on Afric's realms descended,

To whom sad Asia bends her humbled head;

And ye who, following on where valour led,

Heroes! your hand from Death's stern laws have freed,

Far as the sunbeams o'er the earth are shed,

Would I proclaim each bright triumphant deed, [deign to heed. If this my lowly prayer high genius Name not the Trojan, or renowned Greek, Sad wanderers over ocean's pathless wild, [to seek,

Nor him who dar'd the Dacian wastes Nor him of Pella, Victory's favour'd child.

I sing the Lusian chief-the victor mild, Whom earth and sea acknowledged as their lord, [defil'd. Search not the heathen page with crime Cease, Muse, thine ancient story to record, [heart and sword. Far nobler theme is mine, far worthier Nymphs of the Tagus, ye who in my soul, [song;

Have kindled up the sacred fire of If strain of mine, when your bright waters roll, [along. Tuned to their praise was ever poured Now be my Muse like your own currents strong, [roic tale, Sweet, full, and clear, and o'er the heScatter what splendour to the theme be

Lo! God hath wreath'd the laurels round thy brow,

His arm is with thy sword-that thou should'st bring [Eternal King. The wandering tribes of earth, to earth's

Branch of a stately stem, now fair and tender!

Young scion of a race, far dearer care Of Heaven than all the imperial pomp and splendour, [bear! That the broad bosom of the west doth See thine own warlike shield: for present there, [tory, Gleams the dread sign of ancient vicSymbol that once Heaven's monarch deign'd to wear

The form of man, and died on earth that we [hell be free. Might from the bondage dire of sin and Lord of a thousand lands! whose empire [beam, First smiles beneath the morning's early Shines out, when in mid-heaven the sun doth ride,

wide

And glows beneath his latest evening gleam; [arm we deem Oh, King! whose sword, whose potent Full soon the power of Ishmael's sons shall shake, [dream Startle the eastern Turk from his dull Of ease and of security, and make The dark Gentoo that drinks the sacred river, quake, &c.

This specimen we consider to be quite good enough to induce the author to proceed in his undertaking. It will be seen that a few of his expressions are weak, and some not so skilfully turned as they ought to be; but his measure we decidedly prefer to Mickle's; and thus differing from his predecessor, both in the structure of his verse and in the plan of execution, we shall willingly accept two versions of Camoens, executed on different principles, as we possess two versions of Homer.

legitimation per subsequens matrimonium.' The first of these papers is the only one that possesses any great interest on this side the Tweed, and we shall take advantage of the opportunity it affords us of laying before our readers some brief remarks upon the questions respecting the death of Richard II. which have been recently agitated amongst antiquaries. We shall thus be enabled to do justice to the present author, by clearly exhibiting the new information he has contributed. Before entering, however, upon the subject, we must express our displeasure at the scornful and contemptuous style which he too frequently adopts in his allusions to Mr. Tytler. Such a style ought to be carefully abstained from in all merely literary controversies, and certainly, in the present case, is most unjust. Mr. Tytler may be right or wrong in his opinions respecting Richard II., or any other disputed point of history, but his great merits as an historian are unquestionable. His works entitle him to the respect of all his fellowlabourers, and more especially of those whose attainments do not exceed the comparatively humble standard of the present author.

On the 27th October, 1399, Richard II. was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment in some unfrequented place. He was to be guarded by sure and sufficient persons; no one who had formerly belonged to his household was to be permitted about his person, and these directions were to be carried into effect with the greatest possible secresy. At the time of passing this judgment,' Richard was confined in the Tower of London. He was afterwards conveyed to Leeds Castle, in Kent, and thence to Pontefract.

Early in the succeeding year a formidable conspiracy for his restoration was treacherously disclosed, and easily defeated. The conspirators comprised the Earls of Kent, Huntingdon, and Salisbury, the Lords Lumley and Despencer, and many of the most faithful of the relatives and adherents Richard. The premature discovery of their plot rendered success impossible, and all the persons we have enumerated were arrested and put to death in various parts of England.

of

The

Pur Ælfred us.
ealb-rpell peahte.
Lyning Pert-rexna.
craft meldode.
leod-pyphta list.

These lines are, however, an additional proof, if any were wanting, that our glorious King Alfred the Great was the translator of Boethius, and the author of the metrical version.

What is usually called the prose version of Boethius, contains the metres; but the translation is not in verse, although from the nature of the subject it nearly approaches poetry. Alfred, it is supposed, wrote this por tion when harassed with those "vaWe give a specimen :

Thus Alfred to us

An old story told;

The King of West Saxons
Displayed his art,
His poetic skill.

rious and manifold worldly occupations, which often busied him both in mind and in body," of which he so feelingly complains. When he had overcome the difficulties which beset him, it is supposed that he reduced the translation of the Metres to that form in which they have been handed down to us; being at once a monument of royal industry, and a pure specimen of the poetry of the AngloSaxons."-p. 141.

They from one pair,
All came,

Men and women

Into the world."—p. 64.

"Why do ye then ever,
Over other men,

Proudly exalt yourselves,
Without cause,

Since ye do not find

Any ignoble?

Why do ye for your nobility Lift up yourselves?

In the mind is

To every one of men

The true nobility.”—p. 65.

Man ana gæð.

metoder gescearta.

mid his andplitan. upon gepihte.

Mid þy ir geracnod. þær hir tрeopa ƒceal. and hir mod-geþonc. ma up bonne niep nabban to heofonum. Py lær he his hige pende. nipen rpa þær nýten. Nirgedarenlic. Per re mod-reƑa. monna æniger. Pipep-heals pere.

and þær neb uppeand.

"Man alone goeth,

Of the Maker's creatures,
With his countenance
Upright.

By that is betokened,
That his trust shall,

And his mind,

More upwards than downwards
Aspire to the heavens.

Unless he his mind should bend
Downwards like the beasts.
It is not seemly

That the mind

Of any man

Should be downwards,

And his face upwards."-p. 140.