In Hilda's time the servants of God in the Whitby monastery were actively engaged in the conversion of the surrounding people to Christianity, and Cadmon, who seems to have been a tenant of land under them, was one of their first converts. As a convert zealous for the faith to which he had been brought, he sat at a rustic feast one day hearing the songs of heathen war and worship pass round the table. As the harp came towards him he rose. The guests coming from distant parts among a widely-scattered population had the cattle that brought them stabled, and in need of protection against raids for plunder. They took turns to mount guard over their property, and it being then Cadmon's turn, he made that an excuse for leaving his place among the guests before he should be asked to sing. In his mind, as a zealous Christian, would be the wish that songs of the mercy of the true God could be made familiar as these old strains to the lips of his comrades. He was a true poet, as his afterwork proved, and there might be an impulse in his mind that presently shaped itself into a dream as he dozed over his watch; but if so, to the simple faith of those times the dream would seem to be a revelation of the will of Heaven. Read in that way, the whole story of Cædmon, as we have it from Bede, looks like the record of a simple truth that passed for miracle. This-written not more than sixty years after the poet's death-is Bede's account of the manner of Cadmon's entrance into the monastery under Hilda's rule. BEDE'S ACCOUNT OF CEDMON. There was in this abbess's monastery a certain brother, particularly remarkable for the grace of God, who was wont to make pious and religious verses, so that whatever was interpreted to him out of Scripture, he soon after put the same into poetical expressions of much sweetness and feeling, in English, which was his native language. By his verses the minds of many were often excited to despise the world, and to aspire to heaven. Others of the English nation attempted after him to compose religious poems, but none could ever compare with him, for he did not learn the art of poetry from man, but being assisted from above he freely received the gift of God. For this reason he never could compose any trivial or vain poem, but only those which relate to religion suited his religious tongue; for having lived in a secular habit till he was well advanced in years, he had never learned anything of versifying; for which reason, being sometimes at entertainments, when it was agreed for the sake of mirth that all present should sing in their turns, when he saw the harp come towards him, he rose up in the midst of the supper and went home. Having done so at a certain time, and gone out of the house where the entertainment was, to the stables of the draught animals, of which the care was entrusted to him for that night,' he there composed himself to rest at the proper time; a person appeared to him in his sleep, and saluting him by his name, said, "Cadmon, sing some song to me." He answered, "I cannot sing; for that was the reason why I left the entertainment, and retired to this place, because I "Ad stabula jumentorum quorum ei custodia nocte illa erat delegata." Jumenta are yoked animals-the cattle that had brought the guests to the feast. Yet on this passage the notion has been founded that Cadmon was a herdsman. could not sing." The other who talked to him, replied, "Yet you shall sing." 'What shall I sing?" rejoined he. "Sing the beginning of created things," said the other. Having received this answer, he presently began to sing verses to the praise of God the Creator, which he had never before heard, the purport whereof was thus:-"We now ought to praise the Maker of the heavenly kingdom, the power of the Creator and his counsel, the deeds of the Father of glory. How He, being the eternal God, became the author of all miracles, who first, as almighty preserver of the human race, created heaven for the sons of men as the roof of the house, and next the earth." This is the sense, but not the words in order as he sang them in his sleep; for verses, though never so well composed, cannot be literally translated out of one language into another without losing much of their beauty and loftiness. Awaking from his sleep, he remembered all that he had sung in his dream, and soon added much more to the same effect in verse worthy of the Deity. In the morning he came to the steward, his superior, and having told him of the gift he had received, was conducted to the abbess, by whom he was bidden, in the presence of many learned men, to tell his dream, and repeat the verses, that they might all give their judgment what it was and whence his verse proceeded. They all concluded, that heavenly grace had been conferred on him by our Lord. They explained to him a passage in holy writ, either historical or doctrinal, ordering him, if he could, to put the same into verse. Having undertaken it, he went away, and returning the next morning, gave it to them composed in most excellent verse; whereupon the abbess, embracing the grace of God in the man, instructed him to quit the secular habit, and take upon him the monastic life; which being accordingly done, she associated him with the rest of the brethren in her monastery, and ordered that he should be taught the whole series of sacred history. Thus he, keeping in mind all he heard, and as it were, like a clean animal, chewing the cud, converted the same into most harmonious verse; and sweetly repeating the same, made his masters in their turn his hearers. He sang the creation of the world, the origin of man, and all the history of Genesis; the departure of the children of Israel out of Egypt, and their entering into the land of promise, with many other histories from holy writ; the incarnation, passion, and resurrection of our Lord, and his ascension into heaven; the coming of the Holy Ghost, and the preaching of the apostles; also the terror of future judgment, the horror of the pains of hell, and the delights of heaven; besides much more of the divine benefits and judgments: by all which he endeavoured to turn men from the love of vice, and to excite in them the love and practice of good actions. For he was a very religious man, humbly submissive to regular discipline, but full of zeal against those who behaved themselves otherwise; for which reason he ended his life happily. For when the time of his departure drew near, he laboured for the space of fourteen days under a bodily infirmity which seemed to prepare the way for him, yet was so moderate that he could talk and walk the whole time. Near at hand was the house into which those were carried who were sick, and likely soon to die. In the evening, as the night came on in which he was to depart this life, he desired the person that attended him to make ready there a restingplace for him. This person, wondering why he should desire it, because there was as yet no sign of his dying soon, yet did what he had ordered. He accordingly was placed there, and conversing pleasantly in a cheerful manner with the others who were in the house before, when it was past mid 66 night, he asked them, whether they had the Eucharist there? They answered, "What need of the Eucharist? for you are not likely to die, since you talk as cheerily with us as if you were in perfect health.”. "Nevertheless," said he, bring me the Eucharist." Having received the same into his hand, he asked whether they were all in charity with him, and without any ill-will or rancour? They answered, that they were all in perfect charity, free from all anger; and in their turn asked him, whether he was in the same mind towards them? He at once answered, "I am in charity, my children, with all the servants of God." Then strengthening himself with the heavenly viaticum, he prepared for the entrance into another life, and asked how near the hour was when the brethren were to be roused to sing the nocturnal lauds of our Lord? They answered, "It is not far off." Then he said, "It is well, let us await that hour;" and signing himself with the sign of the cross, he laid his head on the pillow, and falling into a slumber, so ended his life in silence. Thus it came to pass, that as he had served God with a simple and pure mind, and quiet devotion, so now he departed to His presence, leaving the world by a quiet death; and that tongue, which had composed so many holy words in praise of the Creator, in like manner uttered its last words while he was in the act of signing himself with the cross, and recommending his spirit into the hands of God. From what has been here said, he would seem to have foreknown his own death. There is only one known MS. of the metrical First-English Paraphrase of Bible story ascribed to Cadmon. It was discovered by James Ussher when he was a young scholar commissioned to hunt for books wherewith to furnish the library of Trinity College, Dublin. The college was then newly founded, and had Ussher among the first three students who put their names upon its books. Ussher gave the MS. -for him unreadable-to Francis Junius, a scholar known to be active in study of the Northern languages, who was then resident in London as librarian to the Earl of Arundel, and a familiar friend of Milton's. Junius recognised in it a large part of the lost work of Cædmon, and it was first printed by him at Amsterdam in the year 1655. The MS. is a small folio of 229 pages, now in the Bodleian Library among the collection of his manuscripts bequeathed by Francis Junius to the University of Oxford. The first 212 pages are in a handwriting of the tenth century, and adorned with illustrative pictures as far as page 96, with spaces for continuing the illustrations. From page 213 there is the poem of Christ and Satan in a later handwriting, with no spaces left for illustrations. Cadmon's poem begins with the story of Creation, and joins with it the same legend of the fall of Satan that was joined with it in mediæval times, and used in his "Paradise Lost" by Milton. This was founded on a passage in the fourteenth chapter of Isaiah (verses 12-15), where Israel is to take up the proverb against the king of Babylon: "How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit Yet also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north. I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the Most High. thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit." St. Jerome seems to have been the first who applied this symbolical representation of the king of Babylon, in his splendour and his fall, to Satan in his fall from heaven; probably because Babylon is in Scripture a type of tyrannical selfidolising power, and is connected in the Book of Revelation with the empire of the Evil One. Cadmon represented Satan as the Angel of Presumption holding council with the fallen spirits, and there are one or two fine thoughts in his poem which are to be found afterwards in Milton's treatment of the same theme. As the old work was in the hands of Milton's friend Junius for years before "Paradise Lost" appeared, and as Milton included in his epic thoughts from old poets of Greece, it is not improbable that he also consciously enshrined in it a thought or two from our first Christian bard, who was also the greatest of the poets produced in FirstEnglish times. I translate into blank verse very literally the opening of Cadmon's Paraphrase: THE OPENING OF CEDMON'S PARAPHRASE. I. Most right it is that we praise with our words, Is everlasting over thrones in heaven. 10 20 20 30 A home and a high Throne. Then God was wroth, And for the host He had made glorious, For those pledge-breakers, our souls' guardians, In banishment, hell groans, hard pain, and bade Glory and gladness; from the opposers took His joy, His peace, their bright supremacy, And, with sure march, by His own might poured down Avenging anger on His enemies. Stern in displeasure, with consuming wrath, By hostile grasp he crushed them in His arms; Ireful He from their home, their glory seats Banished His foes; and that proud angel tribe, He, the Creator, Lord of all Might, sent 30 11. But after as before was peace in Heaven, 10 But ownerless since the cursed spirits went The Almighty had disposed ten Angel tribes, The Holy Father by His strength of hand, That they whom He well trusted should serve Him And work His will. For that the holy God Gave intellect, and shaped them with His hands. 10 For his share of that gift of light, which then 50 When the Almighty heard With how great pride His angel raised himself Against his Lord, foolishly spake high words Against the Supreme Father, he that deed Must expiate, and in the work of strife Receive his portion, take for punishment Utmost perdition. So doth every man Who sets himself in battle against God, In sinful strife against the Lord Most High. Then was the Mighty wroth, Heaven's highest Lord Cast him from his high seat, for he had brought His Master's hate on him. His favour lost, The Good was angered against him, and he Must therefore seek the depth of Hell's fierce pains, Because he strove against Heaven's highest Lord; Who shook him from His favour, cast him down To the deep dales of Hell, where he became Devil. The fiend with all his comrades fell From Heaven, angels, for three nights and days, From Heaven to Hell, where the Lord changed them all To Devils, because they His Deed and Word Refused to worship. Therefore in worse light 20 60 70 Under the Earth beneath, Almighty God Had placed them triumphless in the swart Hell. Brings to each fiend renewal of the fire; Then comes, at dawn, the east wind keen with frost; Its dart, or fire continual, torment sharp, The punishment wrought for them, they must bear. They who fulfilled God's pleasure, Heaven's heights; 80 Of smoke and darkness; for they paid no heed * THE FALL OF LUCIFER. (From the MS. of Cadmon.) Of Angel's pride deceived them, who refused 1 -"Yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible, Served only to discover sights of woe." ("Paradise Lost," i. 62-64.) Was wroth with him and into ruin cast And these grim depths. Then may we for ourselves Him down to his new bed, and shaped him then God's Angel erst, he had shone white in Heaven, Then said he, "Most unlike this narrow place To that which once we knew, high in Heaven's realm, Yet right hath He not done in striking us Down to the fiery bottom of hot Hell, Banished from Heaven's kingdom, with decree Hot over Hell. Rings clasp me, smooth hard bands Lie round me, wherewith God hath bound me down My mind, and that the Lord of Hosts perceived I having power of my hands But now we suffer throes in Hell, gloom, heat, Where after His own image He hath wrought On Adam and his offspring we may wreak Revenge, and, if we can devise a way, Pervert his will. I trust no more the light 110 120 130 140 150 160 To any thane, while we in that good realm Among my followers would be my friend, That he might pass forth upward from these bounds, May turn them from the teaching of God's Word I can take rest, if they that kingdom lose. Of gain within these fires. I let him sit 180 190 [An incomplete sentence is then followed by a gap in the MS., which goes on]: Then God's antagonist arrayed himself Swift in rich arms. He had a guileful mind. The hero set the helmet on his head And bound it fast, fixed it with clasps. He knew Men, the Lord's subjects, that misled, forlorn, To God they became evil. So he fared, Having followed the narrative in the Book of Genesis until it enabled him to dwell with all his power upon the history of Abraham as a great lesson of faith in God, Cadmon proceeded with the Book of Exodus, for the sake of dwelling on the passage of the Red Sea as a lesson of faith in the God who can lead His people through deep waters. Then he passed to the Book of Daniel, for the sake of adding a lesson of faith in the God who can lead his people unhurt through the burning fiery furnace— "In the hot oven all the pious three. One was in sight with them, an angel sent |