em are too fond of meddling
with magic.'

Still, after consulting with his wise men, he consented to meet the
Romans and to hear what they had to say, provided that the meeting
should take place out of doors, for he believed that the magic spells
would have less power in the open air.

Thrones were placed for him and Bertha on the hillside, and the band of
monks approached, bearing a silver cross, and chanting a hymn, with
Augustine at their head.

Ethelbert listened attentively as Augustine told him about the
Christian religion, and invited him to forsake the cruel bloodthirsty
gods of the English.

'Your words,' he said, when the abbot had finished, 'are fair; but what
you tell me is new and strange. I cannot leave all at once what I and
my English folk have believed for so long. But let me think over what
you say; and if any of my folk will believe what you believe, I will
not hinder them.'

The monks were overjoyed at the King's answer. Bearing their silver
cross in front of them, they entered the town of Canterbury.

'Turn from this city, O Lord,' they sang, 'Thy wrath and anger.'

Then in joy and thankfulness they sang 'Alleluia' in the streets, while
the people looked on and wondered.

Ethelbert gave the missionaries a church to preach in, and he and his
people often came to listen to them. So well did the good monks speak
that after a little while the king consented to become a Christian, and
was baptized, and many of his men with him; and Kent thus became the
first Christian kingdom of England.

Many years afterwards, Ethelbert's daughter was given in marriage to
Edwin, King of Northumbria. Edwin was a good and wise man; but he was
a heathen. Among the people who accompanied the young queen to her
northern home was her chaplain Paulinus, and it was the great wish both
of Paulinus and of the queen that through their means Edwin might
become converted to Christianity.

All that winter Edwin listened to the words of his queen and of
Paulinus, and pondered them very deeply.

In the spring he called his wise men together, and asked them to advise
him.

Paulinus, the Roman chaplain, tall, thin and stooping, with black hair
falling round his dark, eager face, spoke to the stout, ruddy English,
and told them about his religion.

The wise men listened very thoughtfully; and they asked Paulinus many
questions.

After a while an old man rose up.

'So seems the life of man, O king,' he said, 'as