In spite of occasional Christian interpolations the Beowulf is essentially pagan, the expression of English sentiments and ideals before Augustine led his little band of chanting monks through the streets of Canterbury.  In the Andreas we see better, perhaps, than in any of the religious epics, these same sentiments and ideals softened and ennobled by the sweet spirit of the Christian religion.  We see the conversion of England in the very process of its accomplishment.  We see the beauties of Paganism and those of Christianity blending with each other, much as the Medieval and the Renaissance are blended in Spenser.  In the one aspect Andrew is the valiant hero, like Beowulf, crossing the sea to accomplish a mighty deed of deliverance; in the other he is the saintly confessor, the patient sufferer, whose whole trust is in the Lord.

If we compare the poem with the other epics of its class, its most formidable competitors are the anonymous Judith and Cynewulf’s Christ.  But Judith, though unquestionably more brilliant, is but a fragment of 350 lines, and the Christ, in spite of its many beautiful passages, is entirely lacking in movement.  The Andreas is complete, and, if we except the long dialogue of Andrew and the Lord at sea, moves steadily towards the end with considerable variety of action.  If the characterization is crude, the descriptions are vivid, the speeches are often vigorous, and the treatment of nature is throughout charming.  It seems to me eminently suited by its subject and manner to stand as an example of the Old English religious epic, an example of a form of literature with which every serious student of our English poetry should be familiar.  For English literature does not begin with Chaucer.  He who would understand it well must know it also in its purer English form before the coming of the Normans.

[Sidenote:  The Argument.]

It only remains to give a brief synopsis of the poem.  It has fallen to the lot of Matthew to preach the Gospel to the cannibal Mermedonians; they seize him and his company, binding him and casting him into prison, where he is to remain until his turn comes to be eaten (1-58).  He prays to God for help, and the Lord sends Andrew to deliver him (59-234).  Andrew and his disciples come to the seashore and find a bark with three seamen, who are in reality the Lord and His two angels.  On learning that Andrew is a follower of Jesus, the shipmaster agrees to carry him to Mermedonia (234-359).  A storm arises, at which the disciples of Andrew are greatly terrified; he reminds them how Christ stilled the tempest, and they fall asleep (360-464).  A dialogue ensues, in which Andrew relates to the shipmaster many of Christ’s miracles (465-817).  He falls asleep, and is carried by the angels to Mermedonia.  On awaking, he beholds the city, and his disciples sleeping beside him.  They relate to him a vision which they had seen.