or ancient Britains, and established their own institutions, laws, and language. Previous to this they were an unsettled race, addicted to war for plunder rather than glory. They were brave, and beautiful in person, with deep blue eyes, and long flowing hair: rejoicing in the storms of the ocean, and glorying in the emblazonry of the armor of their god.

In establishing themselves thus, in Britain, they planted our language and sowed the seeds of learning; and this is the great event that signalized them as a nation.

They did not change their habits or purposes, however, till about the last of the sixth century, when religion was planted among them by a pious monk from Rome.

This transformed them from a state of barbarism to civilization, and gave an impulse to learning as the services of relgion were performed in the Latin language, it became necessary to acquire a knowledge of that language: the treasures of Latin literature being thus opened to them, a desire for learning was induced, and a few minds applied themselves to its acquisition.

Under such influences the priest applied himself to the study of the classics: schools were opened in the cloistered cells of the monks, and honor and reputation were bestowed upon the votaries of dawning science. The Saxon clergy became familiar with the poetry and philosophy of Greece and Rome: in their literary pursuits they acquired the distinction of having attained a superiority over other parts of Europe

in learning, and they maintained it for more than a century.

The career of Saxon literature was brief, it embraced but about two centuries. The era of Saxon literature extends from Aldhelm,-who wrote Saxon, and Latin verse, and boasted that he was the first of his countrymen that enrolled themselves among the votaries of the Roman muse, -to Alfred the Great, with whose death Saxon literature declined, never to be revived again.

From the time of Augustus, to the dawn of letters among the Saxons, taste had been constantly declining it now rose from the lowest point of depression, of barbarism, though a few ages were not sufficient to restore it to the purity and perfection from which it had fallen. Extensive reading and profound research could not restore it, for this age boasted of historians and philosophers,-philosophers who were versed in all the learning of Greece and Rome. Bede, upon whom posterity has bestowed the distinction of the venerable, wrote the ecclesiastical history of the Anglo-Saxons, and also elementary introductions to all of the sciences that were then known, together with sermons, biographies of eminent men, and commentaries upon most of the books of scripture. Alcuin also, wrote treatises upon the sciences: he compiled the lives of eminent men, and wrote comments upon the scriptures; but these comments and compilations did not develop the powers of taste, of thought, and reflection they were not improvements in learning, nor did they serve to adorn and dignify human nature.

Their fragments of song are the most original and interesting of the relics of literature that they have left, and these for the want of a refined language are like ore in its unwrought state: they have the element of poetry without its artistic grace.

In the earliest stages of its existence, language is exceedingly simple, adapting itself to the wants of society which are few, in the infancy of civilization : the mind employed with the external world, and the common concerns of practical life, has not yet risen to the contemplation of the hidden laws of nature, or turned in upon itself to scrutinize the mysteries of its own organization and being; complex ideas and abstract thoughts are yet uncreated, and no symbols are required to express them.

As the reflective powers are the latest of the powers of the human mind, in point of development, so abstract terms are among the latter improvements of language; but poetry does not lose so much in this,for she addresses herself to the imagination and the heart, rests on taste and artistic grace. In that stage of advancement when combination, comparison, and judgment commence, the nice distinctions of things are marked, and the finest shades of meaning are recognised; when the finer sensibilities are awakened, a taste for truth and beauty are developed, and its creations produced. The wild scenery of earth and the majesty of the firmament, the torrent, the ocean and the storm make the first and deepest impressions, and they are, accordingly early incorporated into all languages.

Anglo-Saxon poetry agrees with this early state of civilization. It exhibits the characteristic features of an uneducated, active, and independent mind; a mind always intent upon its object, but seldom or never reflective: it displays the powers and energies of a vigorous mind, mingling in the conflict of arms, and glancing from earth to heaven.

The rudeness of these specimens, possessing the spirit, with but little of the form or finish of poetry, does not lessen the interest that they are calculated to excite. They form an important link in the history of English language and learning; and although the chain has been shattered, it was not entirely severed. The torch of learning was lighted-only in the cells. of the monks, but as these cells were scattered over the land their occupants were enabled to shed a lustre upon that benighted age, to propagate the love of learning from the "Gallic Alps to the banks of the Loire, the Rhine, and the Elbe;" and although successive invaders appeared, the spirit thus awakened could not be extinguished, and the genius of the Saxon mind. and language were perpetuated, and they still live in our civil institutions and our discourse.

Saxon poetry is characterized chiefly by its short phrases and parallel lines; omission of particles; abrupt and strong metaphor and invertion. Full of energy and vivacity, it presents nature in her rudar attire; it is the production of an uncultivated mind, and an unrefined taste. It is nevertheless Poetry, that wild and glorious nymph whose beauty has been seen and admired in all ages, who has been

wooed by the humble, courted and caressed by the great; whose gentle spirit diffuses itself through all the grades of human life, and finds a welcome reception in every heart. It does not possess the glowing sentiment, the beautiful imagery, the graphic description, condensed expression and musical periods which we are accustomed to think of as essential to genuine poetry; yet it exhibits occasional gleams of vigorous thought, elevated sentiment and grandeur of conception which exalt it far above the region of prose and render its language very different from the common diction of life.

CÆDMON'S PARAPHRASE.

Cadmon may be considered as the father of AngloSaxon poetry as his name stands first in its annals, and his great poem is valuable for the light that it throws upon the history of the language, as well as for its poetical merits. It vindicates the character of the Saxon language against the charges that it is jejune, and important only to the antiquary. It also illustrates clearly the Saxon origin of the English language, and with other specimens goes to prove that neither the greatest amount nor the most important part of it was from the French, Latin, nor Greek, but from the Saxon.

It will be seen too, that all of the most beautiful productions, the lasting monuments of English literature, are largely imbued with the Saxon element. Of the words in the best English works, and those especially that have any pretension to taste and beauty, from five to nine tenths are pure Saxon, changed only