SOURCE: Albert S. Cook, "The Theology of Cynewulf," in The Christ of Cynewulf, Archon Books, 1964, pp. lxxviii-xcix.

[In the excerpt that follows, Cook provides an account of the context of Cynewulf's poetry, including the political history and theology of ninth-century Britain. He also examines the poetic style of Cynewulf]

THE THEOLOGY OF CYNEWULF.—In general, Cynewulf is an orthodox believer, after the standard of the Western Church in his time, and, except for his doctrine of Purgatory, is no doubt in substantial agreement with Gregory the Great, the father of Roman Christianity in England.³

Not only does he frequently extol the Trinity,⁴ but he specifies the three Persons,⁵ even explicitly identifying the Father with the Son,⁶ and with the Spirit.⁷ The Father is thought of especially as the Creator,⁸ though this function is sometimes attributed to the Son,⁹ and sometimes exercised by him in conjunction with the Father.¹⁰ Christ, though God's Son,¹¹ and conceived by the Holy Ghost,¹² is God of God,¹³ without beginning,¹⁴ co-eternal and co-abiding with the Father,¹⁵ and eternally generated by him.¹⁶ He is called Emmanuel,¹⁷ and designated a priest after the order of Melchisedec.¹⁸ Of his life on earth, we have mention of his birth,¹⁹ his miracles,²⁰ his trial and crucifixion,²¹ harrowing of hell,²² resurrection,²³ and ascension.²⁴ He sitteth at the right hand of the Father,²⁵ throned among the angels,²⁶ and thence shall come in glory to judge the world.²⁷ He is eternally forgiving men,²⁸ visits their souls in response to prayer,²⁹ grants them abundant and manifold gifts,³⁰ and even exhibits his kindness to the impenitent wicked whom he is about to condemn.³¹ The Holy Ghost, frequently designated as the Comforter,³² proceeds, according to the Western doctrine, from both the Father and the Son;³³ his agency is manifested in various ways,³⁴ but especially as the Giver of Grace.³⁵

Angels are represented as communicating with men,³⁶ but chiefly as in attendance upon Christ.³⁷ The rebellion and overthrow of Satan and his attendant angels are recorded;³⁸ he and his are ever the instigators of evil,³⁹ and hurl their darts,⁴⁰ sometimes represented as poisoned,⁴¹ at the believer.

Mary, the mother of Christ, is regarded as ever virgin.⁴²

The redemption of the world was effected by the death of Christ,⁴³ and on this account the Cross is extolled.⁴⁴ The sinner may obtain pardon if he repents and turns from his evil ways;⁴⁵ confession is to be practised,⁴⁶ and the believer to be baptized.⁴⁷ Every one is to be judged according to the deeds done in the body;⁴⁸ according to these he is assigned to hell,⁴⁹ a brief purgatorial fire⁵⁰ (especially clear in the Elene), or heaven;⁵¹ but the purgatorial fire ceases on the Day of Judgment, and thereafter there is only the twofold division into sinners and the righteous.⁵²

Cynewulf deplores the blindness of error,⁵³ believes in the intercession of saints,⁵⁴ and desires the prayers of his readers.⁵⁵

CYNEWULF AS MAN AND AS POET.—Cynewulf, the one Old English poet who has left us at once his name and a body of poetic work distinctly recognizable as his own, was born not far from the year 750.⁵⁶ Bede had then been dead several years, Boniface was terminating his apostolate in Germany, and Egbert of York was in the midst of his flourishing and beneficent archiepiscopate. Alcuin, who was to exert so important an influence upon education in Western Europe, who was to inaugurate, under the patronage of Charlemagne, the first Renaissance of ancient letters, and who was to leave his impress on Cynewulf's writings, was a youth of fifteen years or thereabouts. Pepin had just ascended the Frankish throne, and Charlemagne was a mere lad of eight. Egbert, who was to bring England under a single sceptre, was not for many years to be born, but Offa, whose name has become so celebrated in history and legend, must have been nearly, if not quite, a man grown.

For more than a century the great rival powers in England had been Northumbria and Mercia. Northumbria began a long contest for supremacy in the closing years of the seventh century. Penda, the powerful king of Mercia, who for years had fought valiantly in the waning cause of heathenism, was slain in 655, and the people of this middle province at last turned to Christianity. From 670, on the death of that Oswy who had been victorious over Penda, the glory of the Northumbrian kingdom began to decline. Mercia, which almost immediately had begun to recover, under Wulfhere (659-675), from the blow inflicted by Oswy, continued to be a formidable rival of Northumbria. The genuineness of its conversion was attested by the foundation of the abbeys of Ely, Peterborough, and Crowland, and the arts of peace came in the train of the new religion. But it was Northumbria which, while beginning to decline as a military state, distinguished itself by application to learning and culture.

From the death of King Egfrith, in 685, to that of Alcuin in 804, York was the national centre of education. Among its archbishops were two such men as Egbert (732-766) and Æthelbert (766-780). Egbert was not only a patron of learning, but himself a writer of authoritative books, some of which are still extant. He had splendid tastes. 'He acquired many sacred vessels for his churches, made of silver and ornamented with jewels and gold, together with figured curtains of silk, apparently of foreign manufacture. He was also a reformer of church music, and seems to have introduced the observance of the hours.' But his 'chief claim to the gratitude of posterity was his establishment of the school or university of York, and his commencement of the library in connection with it.… Scholars flocked to York from all parts of Europe, and among the pupils was the illustrious Alcuin, who speaks affectionately of the piety and goodness of Egbert, telling us what an excellent instructor he was, how just and yet how gentle.… The children of the school of York taught the schools or universities of Italy, Germany, and France.⁵⁷ Æthelbert, or Albert, his successor, really had the principal direct share, while Egbert still lived, in the formation of the library, and the conduct of the school. 'He sought for MSS. everywhere. More than once did he go abroad, with Alcuin as his companion, not only to gain hints for his educational work, but to acquire books for his collection at home. Alcuin speaks of Albert's visit to Rome and of his honorable reception by kings and great men, who tempted him in vain to take up his abode with them. The same writer in a well-known passage⁵⁸ enumerates many of the works which the library contained. He mentions forty-one authors, a few out of many, whose works were in the collection at York. Among these are some of the fathers, Christian poets, and grammarians. The classical writers are only Cicero, Pompeius, Pliny, Virgil, Statius, Lucan, and Boetius, in Latin, and Aristotle in Greek. Alcuin speaks of treatises in Greek and Hebrew without telling us what they are. In the western world there was probably no library out of Rome itself so large and important as this.⁵⁹ As archbishop he rebuilt York minster, which had been wholly or partially destroyed by fire in 741, and set up in its chapel an altar decorated with silver, jewels, and gold, and over it a tall crucifix, also made of precious metals.⁶⁰ Unfortunately, in the archiepiscopate of his successor, Eanbald I (780-796), a state approaching anarchy supervened. 'King after king was murdered or dethroned, and all the foundations of society were so violently shaken that it would be impossible for the church and school of York to make their influence properly felt. Alcuin did his best to restore peace and order. He had gone to France soon after Albert's death to assist Charlemagne in his educational work, but he came home to Northumbria in A.D. 790 to lend the king and Eanbald a helping hand. It was all in vain. The disorder was so great that after a short sojourn the great scholar left Eanbald and York and went back to France, where the rest of his life was passed.⁶¹ In 793 Lindisfarne was devastated by the Danes, who followed it up with an attempt upon Jarrow in 794.

While the ascendency of Northumbria, military, religious, and educational, was thus passing away, Mercia had more than regained the ground temporarily lost. For twenty years it was the head of all England south of the Humber, and, though this supremacy was successfully contested by Wessex in the battle of Burford in 754, the remaining years of the century were marked by a steady advance. As Freeman says, 'During the greater part of the eighth century everything looked as if the chief place in the island was destined for Mercia. Æthelbald (716-757), Offa (757-796), and Cenwulf (797-819), through three long reigns, taking in more than a century, kept up the might and glory of their kingdom.… Though none of these Mercian kings are enrolled on the list of Bretwaldas, yet the position of Offa was as great as that of any English king before the final union of the kingdoms. In one way it was higher than that of any of them. Offa held, not only a British, but a European position.… With the great king of the Mercians Charles [Charlemagne] corresponded as an equal.⁶²

Thus Mercia had succeeded to the position forfeited by Northumbria, and was ready in turn to resign its sway to Wessex. In 802 Egbert, who had learned the art of empire at the court of Charlemagne, ascended the throne of that kingdom. In 821 Cenwulf of Mercia died, and his kingdom was immediately involved in civil war. Egbert profited by the advantage thus offered, and in 825 was fought the battle of Ellandune, which decided the fate of Mercia. By 829 Egbert was overlord of all England, and the crown was on its way to Alfred.

Thus Northumbria, Mercia, and Wessex successively played the leading parts in the struggle for the primacy in England; and literature and learning came southward as the preponderance of dominion shifted. Cynewulf's life may well have witnessed both transfers of power. In his youth the school of York was at the acme of its usefulness and reputation, and it is no idle conjecture that he may have attended it under the mastership of Æthelbert, and that both the latter and Alcuin,⁶³ and perhaps Egbert himself, may have personally instructed the future poet. If it is he who witnessed the decree at Clovesho in 803,⁶⁴ he was present at the final abandonment of the attempt made by Offa in 787 to rival the ecclesiastical claims of Canterbury by the creation of an archbishopric at Lichfield, this retreat being significant of the decline of the Mercian power since the death of Offa in 796, and perhaps as well during the closing years of that king's life. Finally, Cynewulf may well have lived to see the sceptre depart from Mercia with the overthrow at Ellandune in 825. If these inferences be correct, his maturity would have corresponded with the prominence of Mercia in English affairs, and he would stand, not only as the sole representative of the literature of that province and period, but as the chief representative of its learning and culture. He would have received the torch from Northumbria, and have been the means of its reaching Wessex, if he did not actually deliver it with his own hands.

Whether or not Cynewulf received instruction at the Minster School of York, he must have acquired at least the rudiments of Latin at some school during childhood or adolescence, since on no other hypothesis can we account for the ripeness of scholarship which he displays in his poetry. His reading was so extensive, and, what is more to the purpose, so perfectly assimilated, that it is inconceivable that he should have been ignorant of letters until late in life, if we press the gamelum to geoce of Elene 1247, and assume that he was an old man when his conversion took place. On this assumption we still have no little difficulty in accounting for his mastery of patristic, hymnic, and liturgical literature, his clearness and certainty as a theologian, his command of poetical form, and his perfect subordination of a considerable variety of material to the demands of a noble and delicate art. Even if he was a comparatively young man at the time of his conversion, or calling, or awakening—however we choose to name it—it is still almost necessary to assume that he had received instruction in letters as a youth. The facilities for a grown man to acquire, from a state of perfect illiteracy, such knowledge as he came to possess, were, we may be sure, practically unknown in that age, for they are not precisely common even now. The case of Alfred is not in point, for Alfred was a king, and could command instruction not accessible to meaner men; yet, with all the help afforded him by scholars, he by no means surpassed our author in the quality of his scholarship.

Cynewulf was almost certainly, for at least a part of his younger manhood, a thane or retainer of some king or great lord, and possibly, though by no means certainly, of noble birth. If noble birth be denied him, then his valor must have been proportionately greater, since he was the recipient of gold in the mead-hall,⁶⁶ and possessed a beautifully caparisoned charger.⁶⁷ That he was neither a king's minstrel nor a wandering gleeman is evident from two considerations. First, though horses were often bestowed as gifts upon warriors, we have no mention of their bestowal upon minstrels. Secondly, though Cynewulf speaks of the minstrel who can loudly play the harp in the presence of warriors,⁶⁸ it is in quite other terms that he refers to himself⁶⁹—in terms that suggest, not the dashing improvisator, but the reflective student, drawing his materials from many sources,⁷⁰ and pondering long upon a subject before feeling sufficiently sure of himself to undertake its treatment in verse. He gathers from far and near, and grows weary of the quest, before he finds his song;⁷¹ his poem is fitted together;⁷² though he attributes much importance to natural ability in respect to mastery of 'wordcraft,⁷³ yet his own wordcraft is deftly woven;⁷⁴ before all things wisdom and understanding are necessary for him who would charm with words;⁷⁵ eventually the theme, the matter, the conduct of one's song may flash upon him as the result of a divine inspiration, but for himself, at least, there must be much preliminary searching and long consideration before he at length produces, with a certain feeling of pleasure, what he is willing to give to the world.⁷⁶ He evidently has a great admiration for skill in the other arts,⁷⁷ as well as in writing,⁷⁸ and indeed for skill and dexterity of all kinds.⁷⁹ And what he avows is borne out by the character of his own writing. We see how widely and thoughtfully he reads—this is peculiarly true of the Christ—how he adapts a bit from one source to another from a different source, how he makes each subservient to the scheme of the whole. We see, too, with what care he sometimes chooses an epithet, as, for instance, when he applies to flame an adjective—heorugifre, 'sword-greedy,' 'greedy for destruction as the sword'—which elsewhere occurs only once in the poetry,⁸⁰ and is there applied to a living being, namely, Grendel's mother. One may think the epithet bold, even to the verge of frigidity, yet must admit that it was deliberately chosen and applied, and that, if it does not pass the limit prescribed by good taste, it is highly effective.

But if Cynewulf is a student of poetry and a lover of learning rather than an improvisator such as we hear of in the Beowulf, who on the completion of the hero's first exploit immediately celebrates it in hall;⁸¹ and if everything points to his maturity as the epoch in which he developed the reflective habit, and practised his exacting art, there can be no difficulty in assuming that he had experience of military adventures in his youth. In this way he would have accumulated the fund of exact knowledge concerning war, and all its pomp and circumstance, which he exhibits in his poems, while at the same time he would be performing the deeds of valor for which he was to receive guerdon from his lord. That he was familiar with armies and battle can hardly be doubted by any one who reads the opening of the Elene, and who bears in mind that of all the splendor and movement depicted by the poet there is virtually nothing in the original.⁸² Admirable are his graphic descriptions of arms and armor,⁸³ of the assembling of a host,⁸⁴ of an army on the march,⁸⁵ with trumpeters sounding,⁸⁶ heralds shouting,⁸⁷ shields clashing,⁸⁸ horses stamping,⁸⁹ and over all the ominous cry of the black raven⁹⁰ and dewy-feathered eagle,⁹¹ and from the distant forest the long howl of the expectant wolf.⁹² Now the banner is advanced,⁹³ the arrows begin to fly,⁹⁴ swords crash through shields.⁹⁵ At length Constantine orders the labarum to be raised on high⁹⁶ and the war-cry to be shouted;⁹⁷ at this the enemy takes to flight, seeking refuge among the rocky fastnesses,⁹⁸ or drowned in attempting to swim the river,⁹⁹ while after them the javelins dart like angry serpents,¹⁰⁰ and the host pursues from daylight till dark.¹⁰¹

Perhaps to Cynewulf the Welsh represented the heathen against whom Constantine fought, and he may have figured to himself the Roman Emperor as a prototype of Offa, who, like Constantine, possessed fearlessness, decision, and political sagacity, and aimed at some such imperial position in Britain as that held by the son of the British Helena in the East. Perhaps it was in the battles beyond the Severn, waged by Offa after 779, that Cynewulf witnessed the magnificence and horror of war. And perhaps the destruction of towns to swim the river, drowned by fire on some such ravaging expedition may have inspired the terrible pictures of conflagration in the Christ.¹⁰²

But Cynewulf has not merely, nor even chiefly, the soldier's enthusiasm for war. He has the poet's love for beauty—the beauty of the world, the splendor of art, the loveliness of woman, the glory of manhood. His eye is caught by the gleam of gold in ornaments"¹⁰³ or on apparel,¹⁰⁴ and he mentions a second time the golden gates¹⁰⁵ which serve him as a metaphor. To him the earth is all green.¹⁰⁶ At the crucifixion the trees weep bloody tears,¹⁰⁷ and at the Judgment the mighty Cross is all bedewed with the pure blood of heaven's King,¹⁰⁸ thought it shines like a sun in the heavens.¹⁰⁹ It is the white hands of Christ that are pierced by the nails.¹¹⁰ These notes of color, though so simple, are, it must be confessed, effective out of all proportion to their simplicity.¹¹¹ The veil of the temple is a wonderful tissue of colors.¹¹² The nails of Christ's cross, newly discovered in the earth, shine like stars, or glitter like precious stones.¹¹³ On the sword that keeps the way of the tree of life there is a shifting play of color as it turns this way and that in the strong grasp of the cherubic guard,¹¹⁴ and the earthly Paradise is resplendent with hues.¹¹⁵ The sign that Constantine sees in the heavens is set with gold and lucent with gems;¹¹⁶ the true cross found by Helena is similarly adorned by her.¹¹⁷

I have said that Cynewulf loves the beauty of the world. This is shown by the fact that, though he has a utilitarian sense of the earth as bringing forth food for men, and as producing wealth of all kinds,¹¹⁸ he yet conceives of it in its array¹¹⁹—no doubt as dressed in living green, with grass and trees,¹²⁰ and among them flowers and fruits.¹²¹ On it fall the dew and the rain;¹²² it is blessed with serene weather;¹²³ the stars, fixed in their places,¹²⁴ circle round it,¹²⁵ and blaze in the heavens¹²⁶ with mild beauty;¹²⁷ and over it stand the sun and moon, the candles of the sky,¹²⁸ shining aloft like jewels.¹²⁹

Cynewulf s sense of color is somewhat obscured, as the reader will already have noted, by his passion for light. Misery is to him synonymous with the deprivation of light, and bliss with its intensity and abundance.¹³⁰ He is a sort of Zoroastrian, and worships the sun. Christ himself is the sunburst out of the East,¹³¹ flooding the world with day, and the presence of divinity,¹³² of angels,¹³³ and even of good men,¹³⁴ is attested by a glory of light. When Christ comes to the Judgment, his approach is heralded by a sunbeam of unimaginable brightness from the southeast.¹³⁵ Even when the poet uses the word 'white,' we must not think of the ordinary acceptation, but of a dazzling whiteness, a brilliancy.¹³⁶ On the other hand, his devils and wicked men are painted an unrelieved black,¹³⁷ and the flames of hell¹³⁸ and of the Judgment Day¹³⁹ are of a corresponding hue, though not necessarily of pitchy blackness.¹⁴⁰

Among natural objects, Cynewulf is much impressed by the sea. This is natural, on the supposition that he lived as priest at Dunwich;¹⁴¹ perhaps, too, he may have crossed the strait on some visit to the court of Charlemagne, which his relation to Alcuin renders not improbable;¹⁴² or he may have coasted along the shores of England or Wales in some military expedition, if the theory suggested above is true.¹⁴³ At all events, his familiarity with the ocean seems to imply personal experience.

In the Christ he refers to the extent of the ocean,¹⁴⁴ its depth,¹⁴⁵ its roughness,¹⁴⁶ its power and rage,¹⁴⁷ its coldness,¹⁴⁸ its perilousness,¹⁴⁹ its multitudinous billows,¹⁵⁰ and the rush of its floods.¹⁵¹ In the Juliana there is a brief account of an ocean voyage.¹⁵² But it is in the Elene that the true zest of the sailor is displayed. There, when the journey in search of the cross has been decided on, a multitude of men hasten to the shore, where the vessels stand ready, swinging at anchor. Band after band go on board, and load the ships with coats of mail, shields, and spears. The foam spouts from the high prows; the waves beat against the sides; loud is the din of ocean. Under the bellying sails the vessels rush forward; the chargers of the sea dance upon the waves. Soldiers and queen alike are in high spirits over the voyage as they moor the vessels, and prepare to start for Jerusalem.¹⁵³ If we may attribute the Andreas to Cynewulf,¹⁵⁴ we shall have materials for a still completer and finer account of an ocean voyage,¹⁵⁵ beginning with a picture of sunrise over the sea, and containing, among other things, a notable description of a storm.¹⁵⁶

Cynewulf is susceptible to the beauty of woman, though he expresses his admiration in general phrases, and preferably in terms of light.¹⁵⁷ The Virgin Mary is the joy of women, the fairest maiden.¹⁵⁸ In the Juliana people gaze with wonder on the maiden's beauty,¹⁵⁹ and she is repeatedly called 'sunshine' or 'sun.'¹⁶⁰ Her bridegroom addresses her with: 'My sweetest sunshine, Juliana! What radiant beauty hast thou, the flower of youth!¹⁶¹ And her father, with still greater tenderness, says to her: 'Thou art my daughter, dearest and sweetest to my heart, the light of my eyes, my only one on earth, Juliana!¹⁶²

Of manly beauty he has less to say, and then, indeed, it is an angel he is describing: to Constantine 'there appeared a certain hero in the form of a man, beautiful, radiant, and bright of hue, more glorious than he ever saw under heaven before or since.¹⁶³ On the other hand, for the virtues and accomplishments of manhood he has great admiration. Constantine 'was a true king, a guardian of men in war.' Through God's help 'he became a stay to many men throughout the world, an avenger on the nations.¹⁶⁴ The courage, gayety, activity, staunchness, and fidelity of soldiers are dwelt upon in the Elene.¹⁶⁵ But it is in the Christ that Cynewulf intimates his delight in skill and science of various sorts. His gamut of appreciation is a wide one, and includes the bodily activities of the athlete, the soldier, and the sailor; the art of the armorer and the musician; the knowledge of the traveler, the astronomer, and the theologian; the deftness of the author, and the power and persuasiveness of the orator.¹⁶⁶ Energy, coupled with knowledge, directed by skill, and manifest in action—such seems to be, in this notable passage, his ideal for men.¹⁶⁷ But in order to touch the heart to fine issues, and thus nobly to direct the activities of others, wisdom is the supreme endowment, the wisdom that cometh from on high.¹⁶⁸

Cynewulf had himself, as we have seen, probably known the activities of the soldier and seaman, and hence of the traveler; he was keenly alive to the thrill of song and the music of the harp;¹⁶⁹ he was a zealous student of the Bible; of the poetry, or poetical prose, of Bede, Gregory the Great, Jerome, Augustine, Prudentius, Caesarius of Arles, and Alcuin; of the creeds, the antiphons, and the hymns of the church. So familiar does he become with Latin that words from that language slip unobserved, as it were, into his lines.¹⁷⁰ He practises himself in various forms of poetic art—in didactic"¹⁷¹ and dramatic¹⁷² dialogue, and even dramatic monologue,¹⁷³ thus in some sense anticipating Browning; in poetical enumeration, brightened only by brief characterizations;¹⁷⁴ in narration;¹⁷⁵ and incidentally in description.¹⁷⁶ He employs all the figures of speech known to the Germanic rhetoric, and many borrowed from the ancients,¹⁷⁷ even producing elaborate similes by expanding his Latin originals.¹⁷⁸ Yet withal he seems to possess a good sense of values in his authors,¹⁷⁹ clear vision of realities, and lyric susceptibility and intensity, rather than the higher order of constructive ability and epic breadth of vision.

The fault of Cynewulf is in harmony with the tendency of the Old English poets in general, a tendency to dwell too much upon details, and neglect the architectonics, the perspective of the whole. The more intensely a poet feels, the greater is this danger, especially if a sufficient outline has not been provided for him by an author on whom he is dependent. Thus it is that the construction of Parts I and II of the Christ is better than that of Part III: the two together are not much longer than the third, and the originals selected were in each of those two cases sufficient to provide the framework of the division, while in Part III, notwithstanding the preponderance of the Latin Judgment Hymn as a source, much material, not greatly inferior in extent and interest, is drawn from other authors. It is true that Part I, being based upon a series of Antiphons, is essentially lyrical in character, and the only unity demanded is that secured through the character of the Advent season to which the Antiphons belong. In Part II the lyrical and dramatic passages introduced do not seriously interrupt the steady flow of meditative discourse, and it is with commendable art that the prefigurement of Part III is introduced near the end without seriously marring the harmony imposed by adherence to the general tenor of Gregory's homily.

It is in Part III, as already intimated, that the faults of construction are most obvious and flagrant. Thus the circumstances attending the passion of Christ are twice introduced, once as suggested to the mind by the sight of the visionary Rood,¹⁸⁰ and once as touched upon by Christ himself in his address to the wicked.¹⁸¹ Hence it is there that there is a twofold reference to the buffeting and spitting,¹⁸² to the crown of thorns,¹⁸³ to the wounds in hands and feet,¹⁸⁴ and even a threefold reference to the wounds in the side.¹⁸⁵ On each occasion the references are appropriate, but the repetition of them is only confusing and weakening. Nor is this a solitary instance. Three times do the stars fall¹⁸⁶ at the Judgment Day; twice the trumpets sound;¹⁸⁷ twice the winds storm;¹⁸⁸ twice is there the crash of the universe;¹⁸⁹ twice do the dead arise;¹⁹⁰ twice the deeds of men are made manifest;¹⁹¹ three times the devouring flame rages;¹⁹² five times the wicked lament;¹⁹³ and four times does Christ come to Judgment,¹⁹⁴ on three occasions with attendant hosts. Within a single sentence we have 'the bright sign' and 'the high rood,"¹⁹⁵ where evidently the same thing is meant, and in this very sentence 'the exalted multitude' and 'the band of angels';¹⁹⁶ besides, in alternate lines there occur 'sēo hēa duguð' and 'sēo hēa rōd,' and the abstract 'se egsan prēa' (cf. 'se hearda dag') side by side with concrete objects and the sound of the trumpet. In this same sentence, too, much is resumptive, while the rest is clearly anticipatory. Yet the effect of the passage is not so bad as the analysis would indicate, since the confusion in some way reflects the agitation of the waiting multitudes, compelled forward alike by fire, trumpet, angel-host, and the glittering crimson cross. Occasionally an excess of mere parallelism becomes cloying, though the synonyms may be varied with considerable skill.¹⁹⁷ But more wearisome than this are the frequent didactic passages,¹⁹⁸ in some cases, however, not distinguishable from the lyrical reflections which the situations extort from the poet.

But there are other faults quite as serious. Thus, immediately after the opening simile of this Part, we are told that a host of the faithful 'so ascend to Zion's hill,"¹⁹⁹ but neither here nor elsewhere are we told why they ascend or who they are, whether angels or righteous men. Lines 956-9, relating how sinners pass into the flame of the Last Day, weaken the effect of 994, where the flame seizes upon them. In the account of the signs that accompany the crucifixion of Christ, the heaven is represented as discerning who made it bright with stars,²⁰⁰ and the sea as discovering who set it in its bed,²⁰¹ reference being made in the former case to the Star in the East, and in the latter to Christ's walking on the water; both are totally irrelevant, and are due to an unpardonable transposition of matter in Gregory's homily. In the same passage not only does the earth give up those whom she contains, but so does hell;²⁰² the former is based upon the Biblical account, the latter apparently upon the homily, by a confusion between the sense of infernus as 'the hidden parts of the earth,' and as 'the abode of departed spirits.' Accordingly, we have the crucifixion confused with the resurrection, in so far as there is reference both to the local resurrection and to the Harrowing of Hell. Again, lines 1316-1326 seem to be wholly irrelevant to the context;²⁰³ and elsewhere there is an excess of emphasis in calling sinners devils,²⁰⁴ and in designating them as black.²⁰⁵

But it would be leaving a wrong impression not to add that both faults of structure and verbal infelicities are to be found in the other two Parts, and indeed in Cynewulf's remaining poems. Some of these have been mentioned above,²⁰⁶ but one or two may be touched upon here. Whatever interpretation we may put upon wōpes hring,²⁰⁷ it is a conceit which, though not unparalleled in modern poetry, is almost as frigid as many in the Scaldic verse; and one's condemnation is intensified by the fact that Cynewulf is so fond of it as to repeat it. A typical instance of bad art is to be found in a superfluous line and a half of Part II.²⁰⁸ In this same Part we have an inartistic repetition of a word at the end of two neighboring lines;²⁰⁹ an even worse instance, because here the lines are contiguous, is to be found in the repetition of Wāldend, 555, 556, unless the second is corrupt. This last is paralleled, however, in the Elene.²¹⁰ The cross of Christ is several times referred to, in the Elene and the Dream of the Rood, as the sigebēam, an entirely appropriate designation; but the poet is so under the influence of convention as to include the crosses of the two thieves with that of Christ under the same kenning.²¹¹

It is pleasant to turn from lapses such as these, from which no poet is altogether free, to the undeniably great qualities which Cynewulf manifests in the poem before us. In the First Part he is full of reverence, of attachment to what he regards as essential verities, of enthusiasm, of passionate, mystical longing, and even of a tenderness²¹² like that of a Preraphaelite painter. This section ends with the thought of the home-coming to the Christian's fatherland.

In the Second Part we come closer to the ordinary life of men,²¹³ lighted up, however, by reflections from the glistering raiment of angels, and the pure brightness of the ascending Son of God. Then, preluding on the terrors of the Day of Doom, the poet discloses himself to us in the attitude of a trembling sinner apprehensive for his own fate. But at the close we perceive the heavenly port to which our course is directed, a haven prepared for our reception by our ascended Lord.

Finally, in the Third Part, though the faults are more numerous, it is partly because the strain is of a higher mood. Here there are such sublimities as have rarely been united within the same compass. Each individual one may be approached, may perhaps be equaled, somewhere in the compass of the Divina Commedia, but nowhere within the same space does Dante assemble so many and such varied traits of stern beauty and tremendous power. The concordant singing of the angelic trumpets that wake the dead, swelling from each of the four corners of the earth, and shivering to the very stars; the splendor of light from the southeast, announcing the coming of the Son of God; the mingled majesty and sweetness of his countenance; the throngs of attendant angels; the torrent of flame that issues, with the noise of the falling heavens and the hurtling stars, from before the presence of the King, while the sun is turned to blood; the upward and forward rush of the risen dead, encountering the conflagration that is devouring heaven, earth, and sea, burning the waters of the great deep like wax, and melting with its impetuous onset the mountains²¹⁴ and the ocean-guarding cliffs; and the lamentations of the rising multitudes, blended with the din of trumpets, winds, flames, and a ruining universe; this forms the appropriate prelude to the scene of Judgment. That scene discloses Christ on Mount Zion, surrounded by the chivalry of heaven, and high above the illimitable throng that waits, in fear and anguish, the sentence of doom. All eyes are fixed alternately upon the Son of Man and upon his Sign in the heavens. For the Cross towers like the mythic Yggdrasil, dripping with blood, but flooding the whole world with a blaze like sunlight.²¹⁵ Yet the sight of the Rood only impels men to look on Him whom they pierced, and to behold in his white hands and holy feet the print of the nails. Then they recall the scene of his judgment, when he was mocked and crowned with thorns, and of his crucifixion, when earth, sea, and hell were moved by his sufferings, when the sun was darkened and rocks were rent, while only men were untouched by the agony of their God.

At once penetrating in its compassionate sweetness, and awful in its justice, is Christ's address to the sinner; and of unexampled energy are the two lines in which the sweep of the victor-sword in the right hand of the Judge hurls the whole multitude of the lost to the pit of hell. But again, as at the close of Parts I and II, the poet, after a description of the abode of endless misery, where darkness and serpents, torturing flame and piercing frost, combine to execute the just vengeance of the Almighty, returns to his favorite theme of the reward of the faithful, the Beatific Vision, eternal youth and joy, the hymning of angels in a day without night. Thus, in a space of less than eight hundred lines, Cynewulf brings together elements which remind us successively or alternately of the terrors of the Inferno, the sweet humanity of the Purgatorio, and the splendors of the closing cantos of the Paradiso, presenting them with the utmost vividness and poignancy, in a style of uniform elevation.

So much may fairly be said without challenging for Cynewulf a comparison with Dante which he would be unable to sustain. In grasp, in variety, in narrative skill, in the development of a difficult thought, in architectonic power, Cynewulf is hopelessly inferior; but in compunction, gratitude, hope, love, awe, and tenderness, he belongs to the same order; and in his sense of the sublime and the ability to convey it to his readers, he need not shrink from a comparison with either Dante or Milton, in other words, with the very prophets of the sublime among the poets of Christianity.

We have considered the inner life of Cynewulf as reflected in his poetry, but how shall we picture the author of the Christ in his habit as he lived? What were the congenial avocations of his riper years, whose business and burden was the utterance of that nervous, vivid, tender rhythmic speech, fraught with suggestions of a heroic past, which strove to disclose the kingdoms of life and death, to pierce the darkness of heathenism with a lyric cry, and to invest the lives of others with the heaven which lay habitually about his own soul? In what relations did he stand to the men who surrounded him, and to the fatherland whose mighty career lay wrapped in embryo, conditioned by the religion of which he was a passionate devotee, nay in some sense by the very song he sung?

At some time in his life, whether earlier or later, he had come, in a peculiar sense, under the sway of religion.²¹⁶ Whether or not he became a monk we have no means of knowing; but we do know that the monastic life was the natural resort of the elect souls of that age, and that the Antiphons which he loved bear traces of monastic influence.²¹⁷ That he eventually became a priest at Dunwich is by no means improbable.²¹⁸ Here, within sound of the sea, he would listen to the music in which he delighted,²¹⁹ and would, on the recurrence of each Advent season, join in the chanting of the Antiphons which he so aptly paraphrased. Here he would be surrounded by memories of St. Felix, would have leisure for study and composition, and would no doubt enjoy the intimacy of his bishop, his fellow-priests, and the teachers of the famous school. Stirring events would occur, from time to time, in the world about him,²²⁰ but they would not disturb the tenor of his peaceful life; for as yet the Danes had not begun to ravage the East Anglian territory, and to constitute themselves its absolute masters. Yet he would not forget the interests of his youth and early manhood; all would live again in his pages—battle and voyage, meadhall and race-course, jewels and fair women—but subordinated to his poetic purpose, heightened and transfigured by the vision and the faculty divine. As his life-time fell within the reigns of two notable English kings, Offa and Egbert; as he was a contemporary of Charlemagne and probably outlived him; and as we cannot suppose that he was wholly blind to the course of events in his own day, he may have had some premonition of the influence which his poetry would exert, and therefore have taken precautions that his name should not perish, by interweaving it into the very substance of his verse.²²¹ That he, like Alfred, loved the poetry of his native tongue, is beyond question. Cædmon, who knew no Latin, could only sing in English, if at all; Aldhelm, who knew Latin, wrote only in that language; Bede has left us but one brief English poem, though the vigor which that displays is evidence that he was under no necessity of writing in Latin; so that Cynewulf is the first Christian poet who, being thoroughly conversant with Latin, deliberately adopted the vernacular as the vehicle for a considerable body of poetry, and in this showed himself at once a good scholar, a good Christian, and a good patriot.²²²

As to the fate of his poetry in the period which followed, we are reduced almost wholly to conjecture. That Egbert may have conveyed it to Wessex after his victory over the Mercians is a plausible hypothesis;²²³ and that these poems were among those which were taught to Alfred's children, and which he himself learned by heart in his rare moments of leisure, is at least equally probable. What we know is that they were still prized at the beginning of the eleventh century, since they are contained in the two great collections of Old English poetry, part in the Exeter, and part in the Vercelli Book; and we may infer that they were rather frequently transcribed, since side by side with forms which are clearly Anglian, and others which are manifestly Late West Saxon, there are others, though comparatively few in number, which are no less evidently Early West Saxon,²²⁴ that is, belong to the age of Alfred. If we consider these facts, and the undoubted influence exerted by Cynewulf upon subsequent poets, we shall not hesitate to conclude that he was known and prized throughout the Old English period. When the Norman Conquest was imminent, and the religious revival of the older England was still in progress, his poems were embodied in collections of Old English verse, and, by the piety of ecclesiastics whose education was Continental,²²⁵ have been preserved for the English race and for the world.

Notes

³ Only the more important points are touched on in this sketch. In general, no attempt is made to give exhaustive references, though they may be complete in particular cases.

⁴ [Juliana, henceforth abbreviated Jul.] 726; [Elene, henceforth abbreviated El.] 177; [Christ, henceforth abbreviated Chr.] 379, 599.

⁵Chr. 357, 773.

⁶El. 1084-6; Chr. 470 ff., 727-8.

⁷Jul. 724; El. 1106.

⁸Jul. III ff.: Chr. 224 ff., 472; and often in kennings.

⁹El. 726 ff.; Chr. 14 ff.

¹⁰Chr. 239-240.

¹¹El. 179, 770, 813; Chr. 205.

¹²Chr. 207-8.

¹³Chr. 109.

¹⁴Chr. III.

¹⁵ Chr. 122, 236 ff., 350 ff., 465.

¹⁶Chr. 216 ff.

¹⁷Chr. 132.

¹⁸Chr. 137 ff.

¹⁹EL. 392, 776; Chr. 65, and passim in Part I; 724 ff.; 786 ff., 1418 ff.

²⁰El. 298 ff., 779.

²¹Jul. 289 ff., 304, 447; El. 180, 205 ff., 424, 480, 671, 774, 855; Chr. 727, 1428, ff.

²²Chr. 3 0 ff., 145 ff., 558 ff., 73 0 ff., 1150 ff.

²³EL. 185 ff., 486, 780 ff.

²⁴El. 188; Chr., Part II, passim.

²⁵ Chr. 531-2.

²⁶El. 732 ff.

²⁷ El. 726; Chr. 782 ff., and Part LII, passimn.

²⁸ Chr. 426 ff.

²⁹Chr. Part I, passim.

³⁰ Chr. 600 ff., 659 ff., 776 ff.; 860 ff.

³¹Chr. 1379 ff.; cf. Chr. 1116-7, 1200-1203, 1208-1212.

³²Jul. 724; EL. 1037. 1106: Chr. 207, 728.

³³Chr. 357-8.

³⁴Jul. 241; El. 1037-9, 1058, 1144 ff., 1157; Chr. 207-8.

³⁵El. 199; Chr. 649, 710.

³⁶Jul. 563; El. 72 ff.; Chr. 315 ff., 506 ff., 558 ff.

³⁷El. 733 ff.; Chr. 385 ff., 440 ff., 492 ff., 548 ff., 941 ff., 1008 ff., 1649, etc.; the Cherubim and Seraphim are mentioned, El. 750, 755, the Seraphim Chr. 386.

³⁸Jul. 420 ff.; El. 761 ff., 942 ff.

³⁹Jul. 242 ff., 396 ff.; El. 940 ff.; Chr. 256 ff., 363 ff.

⁴⁰Jul. 382 ff., 404 ff.; Chr. 761 ff.

⁴¹Jul. 471; Chr. 768.

⁴²El. 340; Chr. 37 ff., 77 ff., 207, 211, 298, 300, 333, 419, 1420.

⁴³El. 181; Chr. 616 ff., 1093 ff., 1449 ff.

⁴⁴El., passim; Chr. 1084 ff.

⁴⁵El. 513-6.

⁴⁶Chr. 1301 ff.

⁴⁷El. 172, 192, 490, 1034-6, 1044; Chr. 484.

⁴⁸Jul. 702, 707, 728; El. 527, 623, 825, 1301; [Fates of the Apostles, henceforth abbreviated Ap.] 81; Chr. 128, 434, 473, 783, 803, 827 ff., 846, 891, 1219, 1240, 1361, 1367, 1575-7, 1589, 1629.

⁴⁹Chr. 1269-1271, 1531 ff., 1593 ff.

⁵⁰El. 1295-8; 1396 ff.; (?) Chr. 956-9, 999-1006; ([Phoenix, henceforth abbreviated Ph.] 520-526 ff.).

⁵¹El. 825, 1315 ff.; Chr. 434 ff., 1639 ff.

⁵² Cf. my article in [Anglia.] 15. 9 ff.

⁵³Jul. 13,61, 138,301,368, 460; El. 306 ff., 311, 371, 1041, 1119;Ap. 46; Chr. 344, 1126-7, 1187.

⁵⁴Jul. 695 ff., 716 ff.; Ap. 90 ff.; Chr. 335 ff.

⁵⁵Jul. 718 ff.; Ap. 88.

⁵⁶ See p. lxx.

⁵⁷Dict. Chr. Biog. s.v.

⁵⁸ This passage is frequently quoted. A translation may be found in West, Alcuin, pp. 34-35.

⁵⁹Dict. Chr. Biog. s.v. Ethelbert (6).

⁶⁰ This fact is interesting in relation to the Elene and the Dream of the Rood.

⁶¹Dict. Chr. Biog. s.v.

⁶²Encyc. Brit. 8. 282.

⁶³ See pp. lxix, lxxix.

⁶⁴ See p. lxxiv.

⁶⁵It is true that in El. 1237 Cynewulf represents himself as old at the time of writing this epilogue; it is also true that he represents the bestowal of divine grace or inspiration through clerical influence as a comfort to him in his age, or perhaps even as designed to be such a comfort. Yet we are not absolutely bound to conclude that because he was old at the time of writing the epilogue he was old at the time of this bestowal, nor even that because such bestowal was a comfort to him in his age he was therefore old at the bestowal; formulas like gamelum tō gēoce do usually, it is true, denote purpose, but occasionally, as in Falsehood of Men 46, Chr. 124, seem to denote mere result. Having already called himself old in line 1237, and being, at least in his own view, old when he wrote, he may have confused the present comfort derived from the earlier grace with a comfort instantaneously derived from the divine gift; in other words, he may have confused his age at the time of the bestowal with his present age.

The translation of Id̄re by 'grace' or 'inspiration' perhaps calls for a word of explanation. The word frequently means 'precept,' occasionally 'prophecy,' in [Genesis.] 771 apparently 'grace,' 'favor' (being synonymous with hyldo). Here it is explained by rūmran geþaht (1241), which certainly does not mean mere instruction, by gife unscynde, where 'gife' may, as often, mean 'grace' (cf. Jul. 516-7), and by lēoðcrœft onlēac, etc., which certainly points to something else than mere learning. Cf. p. lxvi.

⁶⁶El. 1259; cf. Jul. 686 ff.; El. 100, 1199.

⁶⁷El. 1262-4; cf. [Beowulf, henceforth abbreviated Beow.] 234, 286, 315, 853-6, 864 ff., 916-7, 1035 ff., 1045-9, 1399 ff., 2163 ff., 2174-5; [Runic Poem.] 19, 27; [Riddle.] 15, 20, 23, 78; [Byrhtnoth.] 188-9, 239-240; [Exodus.] 170-171; [Andreas, henceforth abbreviated An. 1096-9; [Exeter Gnomes.] 87-88; Husband's Message 43-45. Note how often horses and other treasures are associated in the poetry, and the use of both to reward deeds of prowess.

⁶⁸Chr. 668-670.

⁶⁹El. 1238-1243^a, 1246-1257^a.

⁷⁰ Note his historic sense, El. 643 ff., though in dependence upon his source.

⁷¹Ap. 1-2; cf. El. 1238^b; (Ph. 546-8).

⁷²Ap. runic passage 3 (infra, p. 153).

⁷³El. 586-595^a; cf. El. 314, 419.

⁷⁴El. 1238^a.

⁷⁵Chr. 664-8^a; cf. El. 418; Chr. 713.

⁷⁶El. 1238 ff., 1252^b ff. It will be noted that his frequent meditation on the cross must have occurred after his conversion, and not during the period when he was 'fettered by sins.'

⁷⁷ In architecture, El. 1018 ff.; Chr. 9 ff.; in jewelry, El. 1023^b ff., (Ph. 302-4); (in sculpture, An. 712).

⁷⁸Chr. 672.

⁷⁹Chr. 664-680.

⁸⁰Beow. 1498.

⁸¹Beow. 867 ff.

⁸² For example, lines 110-143 are represented by the following: 'Et veniens cum suo exercitu super barbaros, coepit caedere eos proxima luce; et timuerunt barbari, et dederunt fugam per ripas Danubii, et mortua est non minima multitudo' (cf. Glöde, in [Anglia.] 9. 277).

⁸³El. 23-25, 125, 234-5, 256 ff.

⁸⁴El. 19.

⁸⁵El. 35 ff., 50 ff.

⁸⁶El. 54, 109.

⁸⁷El. 54; cf. 550.

⁸⁸El. 50.

⁸⁹El. 55.

⁹⁰El. 52; cf. 110 ff.

⁹¹EL. 29; cf. 111.

⁹²El. 28, 112-3.

⁹³El. 107, 113.

⁹⁴El. 116 ff.; cf. the malignant archer of Chr. 761 ff., and Jul. 384 ff., 471.

⁹⁵El. 114, 122.

⁹⁶El. 128-9.

⁹⁷ Or the song of victory to be sung, sigeleod galen, El. 124.

⁹⁸El. 133-5.

⁹⁹El. 136-7.

¹⁰⁰ El. 140-1.

¹⁰¹El. 139-140.

¹⁰² See p. xciv, and cf. An. 1542 ff.

¹⁰³Chr. 995; cf. 292.

¹⁰⁴El. 992.

¹⁰⁵Chr. 250; 308 ff., esp. 318.

¹⁰⁶Chr. 1128.

¹⁰⁷Chr. 1175.

¹⁰⁸Chr. 1085-6.

¹⁰⁹Chr. 1101-2.

¹¹⁰Chr. 1110.

¹¹¹ If we may attribute the Phoenix to Cynewulf (see p. Ixiii), we shall discover a greater profusion and variety of color. Thus the trees (36), groves (13, 78), and earth (154) are green, and there are numerous references to herbs, blossoms, leaves, and fruits. Flame (218) and the feet of the phoenix (310) are yellow. And various parts of the bird's plumage are at first gray (121, 153), and then green, crimson, brown, purple, and white (293-8), while the phoenix himself is compared to a peacock (312).

¹¹²Chr. 1139.

¹¹³El. 1113-6.

¹¹⁴El. 758-760.

¹¹⁵Chr. 1391.

¹¹⁶El. 90. Precious stones greatly attract Cynewulf; thus he informs us of one notable specimen in the army of Queen Helena (El. 264-5), and, like Shakespeare, he alludes to eyes as the jewels of the head (Chr. 1330; so An. 31; [Guthlec, henceforth abbreviated Gu.] 276).

¹¹⁷El. 1023-6.

¹¹⁸Chr. 604-5, 609-611; cf. Jul. 42-44, 100 ff.

¹¹⁹Chr. 805 (probably with allusion to Gen. 2.1 Vulg.); cf. El. 1271.

¹²⁰ Cf. Chr. 1169; Jul. 6; (Ph. 13 ff.).

¹²¹Chr. 1389; (Ph. 20 ff., 34 ff., 71 ff.).

¹²²Chr. 609.

¹²³Chr. 605.

¹²⁴Chr. 933.

¹²⁵Chr. 671, 883; Jul. 498.

¹²⁶Chr. 968, 1149-1150.

¹²⁷Chr. 1148.

¹²⁸Chr. 606-8.

¹²⁹Chr. 692, 695; cf. 935-6.

¹³⁰ Cf. Jul. 333, 419, 503, 524, 554-5, 683; El. 310-312, 767; Chr. 26 ff., 92, 116-8, 742, 1247, 1346, 1385, 1409, 1422-3, 1541, 1656-7. For the Biblical conception, cf., e.g. 2 Pet. 2. 4, 17; Jude 6, 13, with Ps. 36. 9; 1 Tim. 6. 16; Jas. 1. 17; 1 Jn. 1. 5; Rev. 22. 5.

¹³¹Chr. 104 ff., 696 ff., 1651; cf. 230 ff.

¹³²Chr. 204, 504 ff.; cf. El. 94; Chr. 483, 519, 1085 ff., 1101-2.

¹³³Jul. 564; El. 73; Chr. 447 ff., 507, 545, 880, 928, 1011 ff., 1018, 1276.

¹³⁴Chr. 879, 1238 ff., 1467; cf. 896 ff.

¹³⁵Chr. 899 ff.; cf. 1009, 1334 ff.

¹³⁶ So El. 73; Chr. 447, 454, 545, 897, 1018, 1110; cf. the Gr. λευκóς, as, e.g. in Mt. 17. 2; Jn. 20. 12; Acts I. 10; Rev. 3. 5; so Lat. candidus.

¹³⁷Chr. 257, 269, 896-7, 1522, 1564; cf. 1104, 1560.

¹³⁸Chr. 1532; cf. El. 931; Chr. 871.

¹³⁹Chr. 965-6, 994.

¹⁴⁰ Cf. Chr. 934.

¹⁴¹ See p. lxxv.

¹⁴² See pp. lxix, lxxiv.

¹⁴³ See p. lxxxv.

¹⁴⁴Chr. 852, 1144, 1164; cf. Jul. 112.

¹⁴⁵Chr. 856.

¹⁴⁶Chr. 858; cf. Jul. 401.

¹⁴⁷Chr. 1145-6.

¹⁴⁸Chr. 851.

¹⁴⁹" Chr. 853.

¹⁵⁰Chr. 854.

¹⁵¹Chr. 985.

¹⁵²Jul. 671-5.

¹⁵³El. 225-255. Of all this there is not a word in the original.

¹⁵⁴" See p. Ix.

¹⁵⁵An. 235-536.

¹⁵⁶An. 369 ff.

¹⁵⁷ Cf. P. lxxxvii.

¹⁵⁸Chr. 72.

¹⁵⁹ 162-3.

¹⁶⁰ Thus, e.g. 229, 454.

¹⁶¹ 166-8.

¹⁶² 93-95

¹⁶³El. 72-75.

¹⁶⁴El. 13-17; cf. 99 ff., 202 ff.

¹⁶⁵ 22, 38, 46^b ff., 64, 121, 242, 246, 261, 273, etc. Among vices, he points out the danger of drunkenness, Jul. 483 if.

¹⁶⁶Chr. 664-681.

¹⁶⁷ (Cf. Gu. 948-950.)

¹⁶⁸Chr. 664-8^a; cf. El. 1241 ff.; (Gu 502-4, 620-2, 1245 ff.).

¹⁶⁹El. 744 ff.; Chr. 387 ff., 400 ff., 502 ff., 668 ff., 1649; (An. 719 ff., 869 ff. In the Phoenix there are some lovely lines, 131 ff., from which Tennyson may have derived the suggestion for Percivale's description of the music accompanying the Holy Grail, and which he has scarcely improved save through condensation; cf. Ph. 11-12, 539 ff., 615 ff., 635; Gu. 1288 ff.). See Padelford's O.E. Musical Terms, Bonn, 1899.

¹⁷⁰ Thus rex, El. 1042; culpa, Chr. 177; sancta, Chr. 50, 88; (and Ph. 667-677).

¹⁷¹Juliana (and Guthlac).

¹⁷²Chr. 164-213.

¹⁷³Chr. 510 ff., 558 ff., 1376-1523.

¹⁷⁴Fates of the Apostles.

¹⁷⁵Elene, and Part III of the Christ; (Andreas).

¹⁷⁶ Especially in Elene, Christ; (Andreas; Phoenix).

¹⁷⁷ Cf. Jansen's collection, covering 143 pages, in his book, Beiträge zur Synonymik, etc.; he includes the Riddles, it is true. For rime see 591 ff., 757, 1320, 1481-2, 1496, 1570-1, 1646.

¹⁷⁸ So Chr. 850 ff., 867 ff.; Jansen adds El. 355 ff., Chr. 744 ff.

¹⁷⁹ Take, for example, his choice of Caesarius, whom he employs as a source for some of the finest passages in Part III. Of this author his biographer says (Arnold, Caesarius von Arelate, p. 122): 'Casarius besitzt in hohem Grade die Gabe der Anschaulichkeit und des bildlichen Ausdrucks. Seine Sprache ist populair, weil sie konkret ist; seine Ermahnungen wirken packend, weil sie sich auf bestimmte Vorgänge der wirklichen Lebens beziehen, und sich nicht in abstrakten Allgemeinheiten bewegen. Auch das Innerlichste und Geistigste sucht er greifbar zu gestalten. Seine Bilder sind nicht rasch wechselnd und kurz angedeutet, sondern meist eingehend behandelt und sorgfältig ausgeführt. Sie sind nicht überraschend und blendend, aber treffend und eindringlich, erinnernd an die Art des Ezechiel.' It is no small merit to have made choice of such a model for style and matter, a man who, as Arnold says, 'in virtue of his noble dignity, simplicity, and naturalness came as near to the classicity of the ancients as in his age was possible.'

¹⁸⁰ 1084 ff.

¹⁸¹ 1433 ff.

¹⁸² 1121-4; 1433-6.

¹⁸³ 1125-6; 1444.

¹⁸⁴ 1109-1110; 1454-6.

¹⁸⁵ 1111-2; 1447-9; 1457-8.

¹⁸⁶ 933; 939; 1043.

¹⁸⁷ 878-889^a; 947^b-8

¹⁸⁸ 940; 949-951.

¹⁸⁹ 930; 953-5.

¹⁹⁰ 886-898; 1022-1042 (perhaps only allusive).

¹⁹¹ 1036^b-8; 1045^a-1056^a.

¹⁹² 930-932; 964-1003; 1043^b-4^a.

¹⁹³ 889^b-892^a; 961 (cf. 1015-7); 991 ff.; 1229; 1567; cf. 833 ff.

¹⁹⁴ 899-906; 924-9 (incidental mention); 941-7^a; 1007-1021.

¹⁹⁵ 1061, 1064.

¹⁹⁶ 1062-3.

¹⁹⁷ Thus 1531-6a.

¹⁹⁸ Thus 921-4, 1056^b-1060, 1079^b-1080, 1199-1203, 1301-1333, 1549-1590, 1598^b_1602^a.

¹⁹⁹ 875-7.

²⁰⁰ 1148-1152.

²⁰¹ 1163-8.

²⁰² 1157-1163.

²⁰³ Cf. note.

²⁰⁴ E.g. 895, 1532.

²⁰⁵ 896, 1560, 1565, 1607.

²⁰⁶ See p. xliv.

²⁰⁷Chr. 537; El. 1232; cf. An. 1281; Gu. 1313.

²⁰⁸ 545^b -6.

²⁰⁹ 760, 764.

²¹⁰ Repetition of craftige, 314, 315.

²¹¹El. 847.

²¹²Chr. 341 (cf. note); see also Jul. 93-96.

²¹³ For example, 664 ff.

²¹⁴ Cf. Ovid, Met. 2. 216 ff.; with 1. 987, Met. 2. 265 ff.

²¹⁵ Cf. Dante, Paradiso, Canto 14, esp. v. 94.

²¹⁶ Cf. pp. Ixvi ff.

²¹⁷ Cf. p. xxxix.

²¹⁸ Cf. p. lxxiv.

²¹⁹ Cf. p. lxxxix, note 7.

²²⁰ Cf. pp. lxxx ff.

²²¹ Cf pp. 152-4, esp. 153, top.

²²² For a somewhat exaggerated view of his Germanism, see Price's Teutonic Antiquities in the generally acknowledged Cynewulfian Poetry; cf. Kent, Teutonic Antiquities in Andreas and Elene.

²²³ Cf. p. Ixxiii.

²²⁴ Cf. p. xlvii. In Ælfric's Homilies there is no ie; see Fischer, The Stressed Vowels of Ælfric's Homilies, Vol. I (Pub. Mod. Lang. Assoc. of America, Vol. 4, No. 2).

²²⁵ See my Cardinal Guala and the Vercelli Book (Library Bulletin No. 10, University of California, 1888).