THREE more lines are employed to express the CHAP. earth as often by a periphrasis :

The earth for the children of men
The middle region —

The ground for men.
So that of eighteen lines, the periphrasis occupies
fourteen, and in so many lines only conveys three
ideas; and all that the eighteen lines express is
simply the first verse of the book of Genesis, “In
the beginning God created the heavens and the
earth.”

No Saxon poem can be inspected without the periphrasis being found to be the leading characteristic. The elegant Menology in the Cotton Library displays it in its very beginning. The rhythm in the placing of the syllables is also apparent:

Crist þæs acenný

Christ was born Cụninya puldor

the King of Glory On mione pinter:

in mid-winter : Mære theoden!

Illustrious King ! Ece almıhtig!

Eternal I almighty ! On thy eahteothan bæg On the eighth day hælend zehaten

he was called the Saviour, Deofon rices peará.

Ruler of heaven's kingdom. As all the specimens of their native poetry which will be adduced in this chapter will be found to abound with periphrastical amplifications, it will be unnecessary to introduce more instances here.

Their periphrasis is always mingled with me. Their metaphors; and as these will be seen very frequently

taphors. in the subsequent citations, they need not be particularised. One striking instance will suffice, which we will take from Cedmon's periphrasis and metaphors to express the ark; he calls it successively

IX.

4

BOOK the ship, the sea-house, the greatest of watery

chambers, the ark, the great sea-house, the high mansion, the holy wood, the house, the great seachest, the greatest of treasure-houses, the vehicle, the mansion, the house of the deep, the palace of the ocean, the cave, the wooden fortress, the floor of the waves, the receptacle of Noah, the moving roof, the feasting-house, the bosom of the vessel, the nailed building, the ark of Noah, the vehicle of the ark, the happiest mansion, the building of the waves, the foaming ship, the happy receptacle. 4

Another prevailing feature of the Anglo-Saxon poetry was the omission of the little particles of speech, those abbreviations of language which are the invention of man in the more cultivated ages of society, and which contribute to express our meaning more discriminatingly, and to make it more clearly understood. The prose and poetry of Alfred's translation of Boethius will enable us to illustrate this remark. Where the prose says, Đu the on tham ecan setle picsart, “ Thou who on the eternal seat reignest,” the poetry of the same passage, Đu on heahsetle ecan picsart, “ Thou on high seat eternal reignest,” omitting the explaining and connecting particles, the and

I.

that. So, “ Thou that on the seat,” is again in CHAP. the poetry,

« Thou on seat.” The Saxon of the little fragment of Cædmon is without particles.

Whoever looks into Anglo-Saxon poetry, after being familiar with their prose, will perceive how uniformly barren their poems are of the discriminating and explanatory particles. He will likewise feel, in the difficulties which attend his construction of it, how much obscurity is created by their ab

sence.

In prose, and in cultivated poetry, every con- Their short ception of the author is clearly expressed and fully

phrases. made out. In barbaric poetry, and in the AngloSaxon poetry, we have most commonly abrupt, imperfect hints, instead of regular description or narration. The poetical citations which follow will abundantly show this. But that their poetry seeks to express the same idea in fewer words than prose, may be made apparent by one instance. Thus, the phrase in Alfred's prose, “ So doth the moon with his pale light, that the bright stars he obscures in the heavens,” is put by him in his poetry thus :

With pale light
Bright stars

Moon lesseneth.
Even when the same idea is multiplied by the
periphrasis, the rest of the sentence is not extended
either in meaning or expression. One word or
epithet is played upon by a repetition of synony-
mous expressions, but the meaning of the sentence
is not thereby increased.

Of their artificial inversion of their words and Their inphrases in their poems, every specimen adduced and transi

IX.

BOOK will give evidence. It is quite different in their

prose. The words follow there most commonly in an easy and natural order. The poem on Beowulf will give repeated instances of their abrupt and unconnected transitions. Their metre will be the subject of a separate chapter.

The poetry which pleases a refined age has no more similarity to such poetry as we find to have been popular among the Anglo-Saxons, than the sonatas of Haydn, Mozart, or Beethoven, can be supposed to have to the boisterous music of our ancestors. Poetry, like painting and architecture, has attained to its perfection by slow degrees. The leaves of its laurel seem to have been the gradual contributions of genius and labour during many centuries. But at the period in which it is the province of this history to contemplate it, little else seems to have been done than the formation of a style of composition different from prose. If we call this style poetry, it is rather by complaisance than truth — rather with a knowledge of the excellences afterwards introduced into it, than of those which it then possessed.

The barren and peculiar state of the AngloSaxon poetry leads us to infer, that it was the product of art more than of nature. Its origin seems to have been as homely as its genius.

The origin of the periphrasis is easily accounted for; a favourite chief or hero conquers, and is received on his return by the clamorous rejoicings of his people. One calls him brave; another fierce; another irresistible. He is pleased with the praises; and some one at his feast, full of the popular feeling, repeats the various epithets with which he had been greeted :

C

a

CHAP.

I.

Edmund,
the brave chief,
fierce in war!
irresistible in battle !
slaughtered his enemies

at
This is in substance an Anglo-Saxon poem.

But when these addresses were found to interest the vanity of the chiefs, and to excite their liber. ality, more labour would be bestowed in the construction of the periphrasis; the compliment would be sometimes higher seasoned, and then the periphrasis would be raised into occasional metaphors: the hero would be called the eagle of battle, the lord of shields, the giver of the bracelet, the helmet of his people, and the lady would be saluted as a beautiful elf.

Thę style of the Anglo-Saxon poetry seems to have been originally the common, imperfect language of the people, in its half-formed and barbarous state. When an infant first begins to talk, it uses only the nouns and pronouns of its language. By degrees it learns the use of a few verbs, which for some time it uses in their simplest forms, without any of their conjugations. The meaning of these is supplied by its actions, or is left to be guessed by its parent.

The knowlege of the abbreviations, or the particles of language, is gradually attained. With our careful education, children acquire from us the habit of using them with fluency and correctness in a few years. But wild nations must have been some centuries without them.

All nations, who have formed their languages, have gone through the same process, in doing so, that our children are always exhibiting. The nouns,