Our Catholic Heritage in English Literature of Pre-Conquest Days | Page 5

long time unknown; and this is
by no means a solitary instance. The interest in literary fame is mostly a
modern thing. Besides in these old times people worked in a different
sort of way from now. We must remember that the art of song went
hand in hand with the art of verse-making. All sorts of people sang the
words they had heard, changing, adding, as it might be; adding to, or
taking from the beauty and force of what they were dealing with, in
proportion to the strength of their memory, or the quality of their
imagination.
The story of the "Fall of the Angels" forms part of the "Genesis," and it
is well worth while to consider whether a very great poet of much later
days, John Milton, may not have owed something when writing
"Paradise Lost" to his early forerunner.
"Ten angel-tribes had the Guardian of all, the Holy Lord, created by the
might of His hand, whom He well trusted to work His will in full
allegiance to Him, for He had given them understanding and made
them with His hands, the Lord Most Holy.
"He had set them in such blessedness. One thereof had He made so
strong, so mighty in his intellect; to him did He grant great sway, next
to Himself in the Kingdom of Heaven. So bright had He made him, so
beautiful was his form in Heaven that was given him by the Lord of
Hosts. He was like unto the stars of light. His duty was to praise the
Lord, to laud Him because of his share of the gift of light. Dear was he
to our Lord."
But it could not be hidden from God how pride had taken hold of His
angel. And Satan resolves in that pride not to serve God. Bright and
beautiful in his form, he will not obey the Almighty. He thinks within
himself that he has more might and strength than the Holy God could
find among his fellows. "Why should I toil, seeing there is no need that
I should have a lord? With my hands I can work marvels as many as He.
Great power have I to make ready a goodlier throne, a higher one in
Heaven. Why must I serve Him in liegedom, bow to Him in service? I
am able to be God even as He. Strong comrades stand by me, who will
not fail me in the strife; stout-hearted heroes."

And so does Satan resolve to be the foe of God.
Surely we must be reminded of Milton's great poem when we read how
Satan, ruined and cast into hell, speaks to his comrades, lost with him.
He compares the "narrow place" with the seat he had once known in
Heaven, and denies the right doing of the Almighty in casting him
down. He says too that the chief of his sorrows is that Adam, made out
of earth, shall possess the strong throne that once was his; Adam, made
after God's likeness, from whom Heaven will be peopled with pure
souls. And he plans revenge on God by striving to destroy Adam and
his offspring.
All this, and the appeal to one of his followers to go upward where
Adam and Eve are, and bring about that they should forsake God's
teaching and break His Commandments, so that weal might depart
from them and punishment await them, may be compared with
"Paradise Lost," Books I, II.
It is needless to say that the English were a war-like race. They loved
the clash of swords, the whizzing of the arrow in its flight, the fierce
combat, the struggle to keep the battle-stead, as they phrased the
gaining of a victory. We shall see more of this by and by. And this
spirit comes out in their poetry written after they had received
Christianity. They delight in the story of struggle, of brave combat, of
victory. They saw in the hosts of Pharaoh the old Teuton warriors, with
the bright-shining bucklers, and the voice of the trumpets and the
waving of banners. Over the doomed host the poet of "Exodus" saw the
vultures soaring in circles, hungry for the fight, when the doomed
warriors should be their prey, and heard the wolves howling their
direful evensong, deeming their food nigh them. Here is the description
of the Destruction of the Egyptians. The translation is by Henry S.
Canby:--
Then with blood-clots was the blue sky blotted; Then the resounding
ocean, that road of seamen, Threatened bloody horror, till by Moses'
hand The great Lord of Fate freed the mad waters. Wide the sea drove,
swept with its death-grip, Foamed all the deluge, the doomed ones
yielded, Seas fell on that track, all the sky was troubled, Fell those

steadfast