“The field streamed with warriors’ blood, When rose at morning tide the glorious star, The sun, God’s shining candle, until sank The noble creature to its setting.” [3] We have here substituted for M. Taine’s translation one that we consider better, and we add the following poetical paraphrase of the passage by Wordsworth: “Man’s life is like a sparrow, mighty king. That, while at banquet with your chiefs you sit, Housed near a blazing fire, is seen to flit, Safe from the wintry tempest. Fluttering, Here did it enter, there, on hasty wing, Flies out, and passes on from cold to cold: But whence it came we know not, nor behold Whither it goes. Even such, that transient thing, The human soul, not utterly unknown, While in the body lodged, the warm abode; But from what world she came, what woe or weal On her departure waits, no tongue hath shown.” [4] M. Taine mildly states Milton’s obligations to Cædmon in saying, “One would think he must have had some knowledge of Cædmon from the translation of Junius.” It would be easy to show that some of Milton’s finest descriptions of the fallen angels are taken from Cædmon. Sir F. Palgrave says that there are in Cædmon passages so like the _Paradise Lost_ that some of Milton’s lines read like an almost literal translation. [5] Version by Mr. Henry Morley. [6] “Within Roger Bacon’s mind,” says Dr. Whewell, “was at the same time the Encyclopædia and the Novum Organum of the thirteenth century.” [7] Expression of the historian Hallam. [8] In his introductory chapter (vol. i. p. 36), M. Taine describes the Berserkirs as fighting pagan maniacs. He coolly makes up his mind that Shakespeare is a lineal descendant of a Berserkir! “With what sadness, madness, waste, such a disposition breaks its bonds, _we shall see in Shakespeare and Byron_”! And yet stupid English biographers and historians are puzzling their brains and burning midnight oil over the question of Shakespeare’s grandfather! [9] “Take a seat, Cinna.” [10] “A transparent mask, behind which we perceive the face of the poet” (p. 346). Then follows a comparison between Molière and Shakespeare, altogether to the disadvantage of the latter. [11] We know of but one English author (of a Diary) with whose appreciation of this tragedy M. Taine would be likely to be pleased. It is that of the distinguished Mr. Samuel Pepys, who, having seen Romeo and Juliet acted in March, 1672, pronounces the play “to be the worst he had ever heard.” “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is also, in the opinion of Pepys aforesaid, “the most insipid, ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life.” [12] Published in a small volume. We regret we cannot recall the title of the work and the author’s name. FRAGMENTS OF EARLY ENGLISH POEMS ON THE PASSION.