Penda upon the Mercian throne,-such a result could have been achieved without a hard blow, or the alternative of a positive miracle. Nay, it would even seem that the sudden change of faith in large masses of men, apart from all the advantages of its social results, may be simply the mark of unusual fitness for the change. It is quite true that it is difficult to read without a smile how "all the earls and soldiers, and all their servants that came along with them," who had followed Prince Penda in his wooing expedition, followed their well-beloved master with unquestioning simplicity to the font, and were then and there converted en bloc. But this child like simplicity has its good as well as its bad aspect; and if it is argued that such men could have become but half Christians, it may be replied that at any rate they could scarcely have been more than half Pagans to begin with.

Of the details of the introduction of Christianity into the district in which we live, even Florence of Worcester gives very scanty measure. Apart from the sometimes tantalizing brevity of the old historians, who never linger except over the life of some favourite saint, or enlarge except upon some dubious miracle;-there was really perhaps very little to tell. The first bishop, whose enormous see comprised Lindsey, the Fen Country and all central England, for sheer lack of men able to share his bishopric ;—was Diuma. He was succeeded by Ceollan, a Scotchman, and afterwards by Trennhere, a kinsman of the royal family of Northumbria. Cedd, Adda, Betti, Jaruman and Winfrid, are the names of others whose memory survives;-names of men whose work was noble but who are now upon earth, names only. Familiar only amongst these will be the name of Ceadd, who, as St. Chad, is still well known to us, and who is mentioned in many a monkish chronicle and calendar with warm, and apparently well merited praise. The episcopal residence in Mercia was first at Lichfield, called by Bede Licitfeld, -the see of Worcester being founded perhaps before the end of the seventh century, and that of Hereford somewhat later. The conversion of Mercia left no independent pagan State in England with the exception of the remote and inconsiderable tribe of the South Saxons, who inhabited the Isle of Wight and the wild forest

land upon the adjacent coast, and who appear to have held little regular communication with their fellow Teutons.

In my endeavour to prove that the conversion of Mercia was no merely nominal and valueless change, I have been naturally brought to the last, and in some respects the most important aspect of the whole question. What, after all, was the Paganism which was displaced in Mercia, and what manner of Christianity was that which displaced it? The mere names will serve us here in very little stead, for both the one and the other have been so used as to cover creeds the most dissimilar, and practices the most discordant. It would be very far from my present purpose to enter into any analysis of that system of Teutonic mythology which formed the basis of the special kind of paganism we are concerned with. It is not destitute of a certain stern and sombre majesty in the higher grade of its superstitions, or of a pleasant, simple-minded homeliness in its lower creations; but, high or low, its conceptions may be summed up in one emphatic sentence-they were "of the earth, earthy." It would in fact be difficult, I think, to conceive of a faith more absolutely the result of the habits and feelings of its mortal creators-more free from all traces of supernatural origin -more destitute of all really lofty aim. It not only permittedit sanctioned and encouraged a method of life diametrically opposed to all progress, and to all elevation; while, on the other hand, it inculcated no virtue which would not have been naturally fostered as a safeguard of any intelligent barbaric community, though ignorant of any creed whatever. In perfect accordance thus with precisely the method of life which was most congenial to its devotees when at their worst, its ideas of heaven were simply the natural outgrowth of such tenets, singularly unalleviated by any trace of recollection of a purer, milder, and more spiritual faith. Being neither better nor worse than its human imaginers so far as human action was concerned, the creed became of course horrible and revolting when it attempted to picture the future bliss of its believers, and so while the one-half of its teaching was needless, the other half was vile. This is strong language, but it is not stronger, I venture to assert, than the truth warrants. It is

perhaps well to speak plainly at a time when a certain school of thought appears ready to fall down and worship the romantic and the beautiful without a thought as to whether it be noble or ignobleto judge between Christianity and Paganism solely on the ground of their respective adaptibility to poetic purposes, and to offer up their faith and their common sense joint sacrifices upon any altar, so that it be not orthodox.

The last point upon which I have to speak is as to what is to be understood by the Christianity which Mercia so suddenly and strangely received. We have here evidently only to consider the amount of purity in the faith taught, and the amount of practical reality to be discerned in the precepts, and in the actual examples of its teachers. Upon such a point a mere personal opinion could possess little if any value-it will be fairer upon my part, and more satisfactory to you, if I refer you to such contemporary evidences as still remain accessible, and leave them to tell their own tale. Let me quote first, in a very abbreviated form, Bede's story of our own Mercian saint, St. Chad, who died about the year in which Bede was born.

Oswy sent a holy man, of modest behaviour, well read in the Scriptures, and diligently practising those things which he had learned therein, to be ordained bishop of the Church of York. This was a priest called Ceadd, brother to the reverend prelate Cedd, and abbot of the monastery of Lestingaeu* Ceadd, being thus consecrated bishop, began immediately to devote himself to ecclesiastical truth and to chastity; to apply himself to humility, continence, and study; to travel about, not on horseback, but after the manner of the apostles, on foot, to preach the gospel in towns, the open country, villages, and castles. 699. Theodore,† visiting all parts, ordained bishops in proper places, and with their assistance corrected such things as he found to be faulty.

Among the rest, when he upbraided Bishop Ceadd that he had not been duly consecrated, he with great humility answered, “If you know I have not duly received episcopal ordination I willingly resign the office, for I never thought myself worthy of it, but though unworthy, in obedience submitted to undertake it." Hearing his humble answer, he said that he should not resign the bishopric, and he himself completed his ordination after the Catholic

manner.

Theodore commanded him to ride whenever he had a long journey to undertake, and, finding him very unwilling to omit his former pious labour, he himself, with his hands, lifted him on the horse, for he thought him a holy man, and therefore obliged him to ride wherever he had to go. Ceadd having

Supposed to be near Whitby.

+ First archbishop acknowledged by the entire English Church.

received the bishopric of the Mercians and Lindisfarne, took care to administer the same with great rectitude of life, according to the example of the ancients. He had his episcopal see in the place called Licitfeld,* in which also he lived, and was buried, and where the see of the succeeding bishops of that province still continues. When he had most gloriously governed the Church in that province two years and a half, the Divine Providence so ordaining, there came round a season like that of which Ecclesiastes says, "That there is a time to cast stones and a time to gather them," for there happened a mortality sent from heaven, which, by means of the death of the flesh, translated the stones of the church from their earthly places to the heavenly building; and when, after many of the church of that most reverend prelate had been taken out of the flesh, his hour also drew near wherein he was to pass out of this world to our Lord, . . for, being presently seized with a languishing distemper, and the same daily increasing, on the seventh day, as had been promised to him, when he hid prepared for death by receiving the body and blood of our Lord, his soul being delivered from the prison of the body, the angels as may be justly believed attending him, he departed to the joys of heaven.

Even more touching, and indeed not readily to be matched as a picture of simple and beautiful faith, is the account which Cuthbert has preserved for us of the death of his beloved master, Bede himself who sank peacefully and cheerfully to rest, dictating almost with his expiring breath the last words of his translation of the Gospel of St. John into Anglo-Saxon. The narrative is too long here to be quoted, but has been repeatedly translated, and needs only to be mentioned as a case in point.

As a last and very pertinent example, where many similar might be adduced did time permit, let me quote the language in which Bede describes Oswy of Northumbria as arguing against the idolatry of a brother monarch. "Those could not be gods," he pleads, "that had been made by the hands of men. A stock or a stone could not be proper matter to form a god, the remains of which were either burned in the fire, or framed into any vessels for the use of men, or else were cast out as refuse-trampled on-and crushed to dust. God is rather to be thought of as of majesty incomprehensible, and not to be seen of human eye-almightyeverlasting-creator of heaven, and of earth, and of man-who righteously governs and righteously will judge the world-whose seat is eternal in heaven, and not in vile and fading matter."

We have here then, in brief, the life of a bishop, the death of a

* (Query) From Lych-a corpse, or Leccian-waters. Bishop Roger de Clinton (1148) founded the present cathedral in honour of the blessed Virgin, and of St. Chad.

retired monk, and an assertion of the essential differences between the Christian and Pagan faiths as it appeared to Oswy himself, the victor in the last struggle between the two opposed forces. Whether these testimonies are authentic, or how far they are authentic, are considerations which in no way concern the present enquiry. It will not be denied that they evince a very clear appreciation of the principles of tenderness, of humility, of self-denial, and of spirituality which form the foundation of the faith we hold, and that is all that really concerns the argument. We could not indeed without regret give up our belief in these old-world stories, sweet with the quaint fragrance of a long past age, and bright with the changeless lustre of love. But were they all to be proved fabrications to-morrow, the fact that Christianity was so understood, and that its ideal was so depicted, would remain unaffected. Although it is but too clear that many Mercian converts were so in name only, and that they committed, as Christians, crimes which would have disgraced them as Pagans-this is unfortunately a calamity neither peculiar to Mercia, nor in Mercia confined exclusively to the days of the Heptarchy. With all its drawbacks and shortcomings Christianity must have come to our remote forefathers as a priceless boon; and we their descendants may still, looking back with thankfulness, date from its introduction the first advance of our province in the path of honour-the first step in that long march "forward" which the Mercian metropolis now emphasises in her motto, and leads by her example.