I am not aware that any serious argument has been brought forward to show that Beowulf was a literary production. It is customary indeed, especially among English scholars, to use the word 'write' with reference to its composition; but this is frequently due to mere carelessness. Nevertheless there is undoubtedly a widespread reluctance to admit that the poem came into existence without the use of writing—partly on account of its length and partly because its technique is of rather an advanced order. The first of these difficulties has now been definitely settled by the Servian poems, as we shall see in the next Note. Here we need concern ourselves only with the second.

The most definite pronouncement on this subject known to me is contained in Prof. Ker's book, The Dark Ages, p. 250. "Beowulf and Waldere," he says, "are the work of educated men, and they were intended, no doubt, as books to read. They are not, like the Elder Edda, a collection of traditional oral poems." Here we have three distinct statements. That Beowulf and Waldhere are not a collection of poems, like the Edda, is manifest. Whether they are traditional oral poems at all is a different question, the answer to which depends in the first place on our attitude to Prof. Ker's second statement—that they were intended as books to read. But this statement surely requires some evidence. The only argument brought forward is that "the Beowulf MS ... is intended as a book to be read, and is got up with some care. From the look of it, one places it naturally in the library of a great house or a monastic school; and the contents of it have the same sort of association; they do not belong to the unlearned in their present form." But, so far as the earlier part of this passage goes, the argument applies only to the tenth century. No one will deny that the earlier Anglo-Saxon poems were studied at that time; indeed they had probably come to be regarded as, in a sense, classical. But have we any right to assume that scholars of the seventh or eighth centuries viewed these poems or their subjects in a similar light? If so how are we to account for the total absence of references to such subjects in the works of Bede? And what about Alcuin? Quid Hinieldus cum Christo? Is it likely that Alcuin would have regarded these pagani et perditi reges as suitable subjects for the attention of scholars? The natural presumption from his language is that he knew of them not from literary works, but only from street-minstrels whom he looked upon with disgust. Yet Bede and Alcuin can hardly have been ignorant of any important literary activity during their times, and it would be unfair to regard them merely as religious bigots. In view of their silence it seems to me a precarious hypothesis even that the poems were committed to writing much before the end of the eighth century.

There is no doubt of course that the writing of English was in common use during the early part of the ninth century. But the paucity of earlier evidence renders it probable that this was a recent innovation; and the orthographical characteristics of eighth century documents point to the same conclusion. Laws were written in English from the beginning; but we may safely assume that this was done by professional scribes, in all probability ecclesiastics. Otherwise there is little definite evidence for the writing of the vernacular, except of course in glosses. The more learned clergy clearly preferred to use Latin; for the less learned Bede states (Ep. ad Ecgb., cap. 5) that he had himself had to make translations even of the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, for them to learn by heart. Where was a reading public to be looked for in such a period[113]?

But we have yet to discuss the statement that "Beowulf and Waldere are the work of educated men." The question here is what is meant by the word 'educated.' Nowadays the expression 'educated Chinese' is used in more than one sense. Sometimes it is applied to those who have received a good education according to the traditional standard of that nation. Sometimes however, especially in newspaper language, it is used only of those Chinese who have received a Western education. We need not doubt that the poets of Beowulf and Waldhere were among the best educated men of their day according to the traditional native standard. If they were court minstrels—a question we shall have to discuss in the next chapter—they could hardly be otherwise. But this is not what Prof. Ker means. The education which he has in view is of foreign (Roman) type, as may be seen by the latter part of the second of the quotations given above. Again (p. 252) he says: "The English epic is possibly due to Virgil and Statius; possibly to Juvencus and other Christian poets, to the authors studied by Aldhelm and Bede." If so[114], is it not remarkable that no obvious trace of such influence can be pointed out? It must not be assumed that the poets responsible for the composition or preservation of Beowulf would have any inclination to disguise their knowledge of foreign poetry. The use which they have made of incidents derived from the Bible is decisive evidence to the contrary, although their knowledge of this subject seems to have been of a most elementary description. In Widsith we actually have at least one reference to a classical character (v. 15 ff.). But Beowulf is entirely free from anything of the kind.

Prof. Brandl[115] has likewise been attracted by the idea that the growth of Anglo-Saxon epic poetry may have been due to Latin models. As a probable source of such influence he has fixed upon the Aeneid and even indicated a number of passages in this poem which may have suggested certain scenes and incidents in Beowulf. Thus he notes that both poems begin with the story of a wanderer (Scyld, Aeneas) who came over the sea (feasceaft, primus et profugus) and founded a great dynasty or empire. Then he suggests a connection between the song of Hrothgar's minstrel on the Creation (Beow. 90 ff.) and a passage (Aen. I 742 ff.) which describes how Dido's minstrel Iopas sang of the origin of men and beasts, among other cosmological subjects. Further, he compares the whole of the scene which contains the latter passage with the account of Beowulf's reception at Heorot, noting the various stages in the arrival of the two heroes from their disembarkation to the feast with which they are welcomed in the palaces. Incidentally, he remarks that at the feast Wealhtheow hands the cup to Hrothgar and then to the visitors (Beow. 615 ff.), while Dido pays the same honour to Bitias (Aen. I 738). Lastly, he compares the racing after Grendel's overthrow (Beow. 864 ff.) with the rowing contest in memory of Anchises (Aen. V 104 ff.).

I confess that, coming as they do towards the close of an admirable discussion of the subject, which no attentive student of Beowulf can fail to appreciate, the comparisons suggested by Prof. Brandl strike me as surprising beyond measure. The resemblances between the athletic contests, so far as they have any existence at all, are due to practices which are worldwide. Is there any reason for supposing that the act of courtesy ascribed to Wealhtheow was not in full accordance with early Teutonic custom? Parallels may be found, easily enough, in Old Norse literature. The arrival of the wanderer (Scyld, not Beowulf) has nothing in common with that of Aeneas. The one is a baby and probably alone; the other is the commander of a fleet. Then, as to the resemblance between Beowulf's visit to Hrothgar and Aeneas' visit to Dido, I can only say that I fail to detect its existence. Prof. Brandl seems to lay most stress on this incident and points out certain parallelisms in the language: corripuere uiam qua semita monstrat (Aen. I 418) with stig wisode gumum aetgaedere (Beow. 320 f.), and coram quem quaeritis adsum Troius Aeneas (Aen. I 595 f.) with Beowulf is min nama (Beow. 343). But are these not purely accidental coincidences, such as one could find between almost any two narrative poems? When Prof. Brandl speaks of Aeneas' "Verhandlung mit Dido zuerst durch eine etikettegemÄsse Mittelsperson", I do not understand what is meant. Certainly this description applies to the entry of Beowulf. But Aeneas is present beforehand, shrouded in a cloud with which Venus has covered him. In the midst of the scene the cloud is suddenly parted and Aeneas disclosed to Dido's eyes. It seems to me that no meeting could well be more different. There remains then only the fact that the two minstrels treat a somewhat similar theme (though in Beowulf this does not take place on the occasion of the hero's arrival). It is no doubt a curious coincidence; but the introduction of such a subject in Beowulf may be accounted for quite satisfactorily without the hypothesis of any acquaintance with Virgil.

I cannot quit this subject without remarking how much more plausible a case could be made out for deriving Beowulf from the Homeric poems, especially the Odyssey. Here there are striking parallels both in diction and terminology, as we shall see in a later chapter. We may note especially the epithets applied to princes and the formulae with which speeches are introduced. If we wish to find a real parallel to the reception of Beowulf by Hrothgar, it is provided by the account of Telemachos' visit to Menelaos. Similar parallels are to be obtained for the minstrel's lays and many other incidents. Are we then to suppose that Beowulf is based upon the Odyssey? That is a hypothesis which I will gladly leave for others to work out. For my own part I prefer the explanation that similar poetry is the outcome, or rather the expression, of similar social conditions. But in Beowulf and the Homeric poems, as against the Aeneid, we have additional common elements in the fact that the interest is centred in the actual characters—not in the destiny of their descendants—and in the vividness and reality of the narratives, in spite of Grendel, Scylla and the rest. The latter of these two common features seems to me to indicate that both the Greek and English poets were depicting types of life with which they were themselves familiar, whereas no one will dispute that the Aeneid is a product of the library.

Half a century ago, when the study of Teutonic antiquity was still young, there was a general eagerness to refer every institution and belief to a native origin. To-day we see the inevitable reaction—a hypercritical attitude towards every explanation of this character, coupled with a readiness to accept theories of biblical or classical influence on the slightest possible evidence. It is this intellectual atmosphere which, naturally enough, has given birth to the chimaera of a literary Beowulf—a creature which, if I am not mistaken, belongs to the same genus as certain well-known theories in Northern mythology.