wider experience, teaches us that such things cannot be; and when once the bounds of possibility are passed, cold will be our interest in any prospect, however glittering. Such songs, such traditional tales, the Saxons doubtless had before their conversion to Christianity; incidentally, we have positive evidence of the fact: but not a trace remains of them; for, as they were of a pagan character, the zeal of the missionaries would endeavour to eradicate them from the memory of the people. But the same principle of curiosity is irresistibly active; and if the path to its gratification was closed to it in one direction, it was, of necessity, opened in another. Songs of a character more kindred with the new hopes and feelings engendered by Christianity, began to be cultivated. Unfortunately, however, scarcely a vestige of them remains some, indeed, there are, of a subsequent age; and from them, as well as from the hints derived from more ancient sources, we will endeavour to glance at the progress of the vernacular literature, consisting of poetry in its origin, and of poetry and homilies combined, when religion was more universally diffused among the people. The most ancient Saxon poet whose name time has spared, is also the author of the most ancient piece of poetry now extant. This was the Elder Caedmon, so called to distinguish him from a later poet of that name. Him we shall introduce to the reader in the words of the venerable Bede. "In the monastery of the same abbess* there was a certain monk, remarkable for the divine grace which enabled him to compose songs, to the encouragement of religion and devotion; so that whatever he learned, through the translation of others, from the Holy Scriptures, that he could turn into poetic words and metre of exceeding sweetness, in his native language, the English. By his songs the minds of many have learned to despise the world, and to glow with the love of heavenly things. Others, indeed, after him, in our religious nation, attempted to make verses, but none were able to contend with him; for he learned his art, not from men, nor by men, but * Whitby, the Monastery of St. Hilda. received it as a gift from above. Wherefore he was unable to compose any thing of a frivolous or vain character, but such verses only as relate to religion, and become a religious tongue. While in his secular habit, until a mature age, he learned nothing of the art. Indeed, he had no taste for it: for sometimes, at a festive entertainment, when, for the sake of hilarity, the harp was brought, and all required to sing in their turns, he arose, left the table, and returned home. On one occasion, when he acted in this manner, when he had left the hall of feasting and hastened to the stable to look after the cattle, which were this night confided to him, and when at the proper time he laid his limbs to rest, behold one appeared to him in his dream, saluted him, and, calling him by name, said, 'Caedmon, give me a song!' He replied, I cannot sing, and for that reason I have retired hither.' The man rejoined, 'But thou must sing me something!' "What subject must I choose?' 'Choose that of the creation!' Having received this command, he began immediately to sing verses in praise of God the Creator, which he had never heard before, and of which this is the sense:- Now let us praise the Author of the heavenly kingdom, the power of the Creator, the counsel of the Father of glory! For, as he is the eternal God, he is the Author of all marvellous things: he, the Guardian of the human race, first created the sky for the canopy, the earth for the habitation of the sons of men!' This, I say, is the meaning, not the order, of the words which he sang in his dream; nor is it possible to translate songs, however excellent, from one language to another, without injuring their elegance or their majesty. Arising from sleep, he retained in his memory all that he had sung while in his dream; and he soon added, in the same measure, many other verses worthy of God. The next morning, proceeding to the sheriff under whose jurisdiction he lived, he related the gift which he had received; and being brought to the abbess, he was commanded, in the presence of many learned auditors, to report his dream and his song, that all might judge what was the nature and what the origin of his gift: and all agreed that it was a gift from Heaven. And they translated for him a certain portion of Scripture, either history or doctrine, telling him to versify it if he could. Accepting the challenge, he departed; and the next morning returned, to repeat the excellent song which he had been commanded to compose. Whence the abbess, admiring the grace of God within him, persuaded him to exchange the secular for the monastic habit, received him into the brotherhood, and ordered that he should be instructed in holy scrip ture. And whatever he had been able to learn by hearing, he, pondering, and, like some animals, ruminating on it, turned it into a most harmonious poem, and, sweetly singing it, he made his teachers his hearers. He sang on the creation of the world; on the departure of Israel from Egypt, and the entry into the promised land, and on many other histories in sacred scripture. He sang, too, the incarnation, the passion, the resurrection and ascension of our Lord, the descent of the Holy Ghost, the preaching of the apostles; and many were his songs on the terrible judgment to come, on the horrible pains of hell, on the pleasures of the celestial kingdom. To these he added many other strains on the divine mercy and judgment, in all of which he endeavoured to withdraw men from the power of evil to allure them to the love and practice of good deeds. For he was a man truly religious, humbly observing the regular discipline, and filled with a holy zeal against those whom he saw remiss. Wherefore a suitable end crowned his life."* It would not, perhaps, be difficult to account for the sudden inspiration of Caedmon on other grounds than those of celestial revelation †; but our present business is rather with the subject than the man. Of the piece to which the Venerable alludes, a fragment has descended to us. For this we are indebted to his royal translator, Alfred, who, in the Saxon version of the Ecclesiastical History, professes to give us the very words of the poet. It is in eighteen lines, which we give line by line, without the Saxon, a language easy of acquirement, yet far from an ordinary accomplishment: "Now we should praise The Guardian of the heavenly kingdom, The Mighty Creator, And the thoughts of his mind, Glorious Father of his works! As he, of every glory Eternal Lord, Established the beginning, So he first shaped The earth for the children of men, And the heavens for its canopy. Bede, Historia Ecclesiastica Anglorum, lib. iv. cap. 24. + Such legends are not uncommon in the cloister. In Spain, according to the grave Ambrosio de Morales, an ignorant monk, was once in a similar manner taught to read and to write too. Holy Creator! The middle region, The Guardian of mankind, The ground for men, Two circumstances will particularly strike the reader in this most literal version the inversion and the paraphrasis, the two fundamental characters of all AngloSaxon poetry: the one is so great, as often to hide the sense; the other so extended, as almost to make us lose sight of the original idea. Deduct the phrases to express the Deity, which occupy eight lines; the three used for the creation; three more to design the earth ; and we have fourteen lines of periphrasis. The whole eighteen do not convey an idea beyond the simple narration of the first verse of Scripture, In the beginning * God created the heavens and the earth.* But we must not thus briefly dismiss Caedmon. By Junius a poem was published, which he ascribed to that ancient monk; but its paternity has been doubted by Hickes: whether there be any ground for the scepticism is not very clear. It is a paraphrase on various narratives of the Old Testament, especially on the creation; and this is the first presumptive evidence that Caedmon is the author. A second consists in the similarity, not only of construction, but of style and sentiment. We give a few verses from Mr. Turner's translation: There was not yet then here, except gloom like a cavern, But the wide ground stood deep and dim for a new lordship, shapeless and unsuitable.' *Alfredus, Historia Ecclesiastica Saxonica Reddita, p. 597. Turner, Anglo-Saxons, vol. iii. p. 265. On this with his eyes he glanced, the king stern in mind, and the joyless place beheld. He saw the dark cloulds perpetually pass black under the sky, void and waste; till that this world's creation thro' the word was done of the King of Glory. Here first made the Eternal Lord, the Patron of all creatures, heaven and earth. He reared the sky, and this roomy land established with strong powers, Almighty Ruler ! The earth was then yet with grass not green; with the ocean covered, perpetually black; far and wider the desert ways. There was the glory-bright Spirit of the Heaven's Wonder borne over the watery abyss with great abundance. The Creator of angels commanded, the Lord of life! light to come forth over the roomy ground. Quickly was fulfilled the high King's command: the sacred light came over the waste as the Artist ordered. Then separated the Governor of victory over the water-flood light from darkness, shade from shine: he made them both be named, Lord of life! Light was first, thro' the Lord's word, |