n ruins, and
many of its noble edifices still stood almost in perfection. But
paganism had vanished. The cross of Christ was the dominant symbol. The
march of the warriors of the legions was replaced by long processions
of cowled and solemn monks. The temporal imperialism of Rome had
ceased, the spiritual had begun; instead of armies to bring the world
under the dominion of the sword, that ancient city now sent out its
legions of priests to bring it under the dominion of the cross.

Gregory resolved to be one of the latter. A fair new field for
missionary labor lay in that distant island, peopled by pagans whose
aspect promised to make them noble subjects of Christ's kingdom upon
earth. The enthusiastic youth left Rome to seek Saxon England, moved
thereto not by desire of earthly glory, but of heavenly reward. But this
was not to be. His friends deemed that he was going to death, and begged
the pope to order his return. Gregory was brought back and England
remained pagan.

Years went by. The humble deacon rose to be bishop of Rome and head of
the Christian world. Gregory the Great, men named him, though he styled
himself "Servant of the servants of God," and lived in like humility and
simplicity of style as when he was a poor monk.

The time at length came to which Gregory had looked forward. Ethelbert,
king of Kentish England, married Bertha, daughter of the French king
Charibert, a fervent Christian woman. A few priests came with her to
England, and the king gave them a ruined Christian edifice, the Church
of St. Martin, outside the walls of Canterbury, for their worship. But
it was overshadowed by a pagan temple, and the worship of Odin and Thor
still dominated Saxon England.

Gregory took quick advantage of this opportunity. The fair faces of the
English slaves still appealed to his pitying soul, and he now sent
Augustine, prior of St. Andrew's at Rome, with a band of forty monks as
missionaries to England. It was the year of our Lord 597. The
missionaries landed at the very spot where Hengist the Saxon conqueror
had landed more than a century before. The one had brought the sword to
England, the others brought the cross. King Ethelbert knew of their
coming and had agreed to receive them; but, by the advice of his
priests, who feared conjuration and spells of magic, he gave them
audience in the open air, where such spells have less power. The place
was on the chalk-down above Minster, whence, miles away across t