told in the ancient chronicle of the venerable Bede, the earliest of
English writers.

As yet only Kent had been converted. North of it lay the kingdom of
Northumbria, still a pagan realm. The story of its conversion, as told
by Bede, is of no less interest than that just related. Edwin was its
king, a man of great ability for that early day. His prowess is shown in
a proverb: "A woman with her babe might walk scathless from sea to sea
in Edwin's day." The highways, long made dangerous by outlaw and
ruthless warrior, were now safe avenues of travel; the springs by the
road-side were marked by stakes, while brass cups beside them awaited
the traveller's hand. Edwin ruled over all northern England, as
Ethelbert did over the south. Edinburgh was within his dominions, and
from him it had its name,--Edwin's burgh, the city of Edwin.

Christianity came to this monarch's heart in some such manner as it had
reached that of Ethelbert, through the appealing influence of his wife.
A daughter of King Ethelbert had come to share his throne. She, like
Bertha her mother, was a Christian. With her came the monk Paulinus,
from the church at Canterbury. He was a man of striking aspect,--of tall
and stooping form, slender, aquiline nose, and thin, worn face, round
which fell long black hair. The ardent missionary, aided doubtless by
the secret appeals of the queen, soon produced an influence upon the
intelligent mind of Edwin. The monarch called a council of his wise men,
to talk with them about the new doctrine which had been taught in his
realm. Of what passed at that council we have but one short speech, but
it is one that illuminates it as no other words could have done, a
lesson in prose which is full of the finest spirit of poetry, perhaps
the most picturesque image of human life that has ever been put into
words.