One day, in the far-off sixth century, a youthful deacon of the Roman
Church walked into the slave-market of Rome, situated at one extremity
of the ancient Forum. Gregory, his name; his origin from an ancient
noble family, whose genealogy could be traced back to the days of the
early Cæsars. A youth was this of imperial powers of mind, one who, had
he lived when Rome was mistress of the physical world, might have become
emperor; but who, living when Rome had risen to lordship over the
spiritual world, became pope,--the famous Gregory the Great.

In the Forum the young deacon saw that which touched his sympathetic
soul. Here cattle were being sold; there, men. His eyes were specially
attracted by a group of youthful slaves, of aspect such as he had never
seen before. They were bright of complexion, their hair long and golden,
their expression of touching innocence. Their fair faces were strangely
unlike the embrowned complexions to which he had been accustomed, and he
stood looking at them in admiration, while the slave-dealers extolled
their beauty of face and figure.

"From what country do these young men come?" asked Gregory.

"They are English, Angles," answered the dealers.

"Not Angles, but angels," said the deacon, with a feeling of poetic
sentiment, "for they have angel-like faces. From what country come
they?" he repeated.

"They come from Deira," said the merchants.