questions, cursed one another in the heartiest
manner; and (uncommonly like the old
Druids) cursed all the people whom they
could not persuade. So, altogether, the
Britons were very badly off, you may
suppose.

They were in such distress, in short, that
they sent a letter to Rome, entreating help:
which they called The Groans of the Britons,
and in which they said, "The barbarians
chase us into the sea; the sea throws us back
upon the barbarians; and we have only the
hard choice left us of perishing by the sword,
or perishing by the waves." But, the Romans
could not help them, even if they were so
inclined; for they had enough to do to defend
themselves against their own enemies, who
were then very fierce and strong. At last,
the Britons, unable to bear their hard
condition any longer, resolved to make peace
with the Saxons, and to invite the Saxons to
come into their country, and help them to
keep out the Picts and Scots.

It was a British Prince named VORTIGERN
who took this resolution, and who made a
treaty of friendship with HENGIST and HORSA,
two Saxon chiefs. Both of these names, in
the old Saxon language, signify Horse; for, the
Saxons, like many other nations in a rough
state, were fond of giving men the names of
animals, as Horse, Wolf, Bear, Hound. The
Indians of North America,—a very inferior
people to the Saxons—do the same to this
day.

HENGIST and HORSA drove out the Picts
and Scots; and VORTIGERN, being grateful to
them for that service, made no opposition to
their settling themselves in that part of
England which is called the Isle of Thanet,
or to their inviting over more of their country-
men to join them. But, HENGIST had a beautiful
daughter named ROWENA; and when, at a
feast, she filled a golden goblet to the brim
with wine, and gave it to VORTIGERN, saying,
in a sweet voice, "Dear King, thy health!"
the king fell in love with her. My opinion
is, that the cunning HENGIST meant him
to do so, in order that the Saxons might
have greater influence with him; and that
the fair ROWENA came to that feast, golden
goblet and all, on purpose.

At any rate, they were married: and, long
afterwards, whenever the king was angry
with the Saxons, or jealous of their encroachments,
ROWENA would put her beautiful arms
round his neck, and softly say, "Dear king,
they are my people! Be favourable to them,
as you loved that Saxon girl who gave you
the golden goblet of wine at the feast!"
And, really, I don't see how the king could
help himself.

Ah! We must all die! In the course of
years, VORTIGERN died—he was dethroned, and
put in prison, first, I am afraid—and ROWENA
died, and generations of Saxons and Britons
died; and events that happened during a long,
long time would have been quite forgotten
but for the tales and songs of the old Bards,
who used to go about from feast to feast,
with their white beards, recounting the deeds
of their forefathers. Among the histories of
which they sang and talked, there was a
famous one, concerning the bravery and virtues
of KING ARTHUR, supposed to have been a
British Prince in these old times. But, whether
such a person really lived, or whether there
were several persons whose histories came to
be confused together under that one name, or
whether all about him was invention, no one
knows.

I will tell you, shortly, what is most
interesting in the early Saxon times, as they are
described in these songs and stories of the
Bards.

In, and long after, the days of VORTIGERN,
fresh bodies of Saxons, under various chiefs,
came pouring into Britain. One body,
conquering the Britons in the East, and settling
there, called their kingdom Essex; another
body settled in the West, and called their
kingdom Wessex; the Northfolk, or Norfolk
people, established themselves in one place;
the Southfolk, or Suffolk people, established
themselves in another: and gradually seven
kingdoms or states arose in England, which
were called the Saxon Heptarchy. The poor
Britons, falling back before these crowds of
fighting men, whom they had innocently
invited over as friends, retired into Wales and
the adjacent countiy, into Devonshire, and
into Cornwall. Those parts of England long
remained unconquered. And, in Cornwall
now—where the sea-coast is very gloomy,
steep, and rugged—where, in the dark winter-
time, ships have been often wrecked close to
the land, and every soul on board has perished
—where the winds and waves howl drearily,
and split the solid rocks into arches and
caverns—there are very ancient ruins, which
the people call the ruins of KING ARTHUR'S
Castle.

Kent is the most famous of the seven
Saxon kingdoms, because the Christian
religion was preached to the Saxons there
(who domineered over the Britons too much,
to care, for what they said about their
religion, or anything else) by AUGUSTINE, a
monk from Rome. KING ETHELBERT of Kent
was soon converted; and the moment he said
he was a Christian, his courtiers all said they
were Christians; after which, ten thousand
of his subjects said they were Christians too.
AUGUSTINE built a little church, close to this
king's palace, on the ground now occupied by
the beautiful cathedral of Canterbury.
SEBERT, the king's nephew, built on a muddy
marshy place near London, where there had
been a temple to Apollo, a church dedicated
to Saint Peter, which is now Westminster
Abbey. And, in London itself, on the
foundation of a temple to Diana, he built another
little church, which has risen up, since that
old time, to be Saint Paul's.

After the death of ETHELBERT, EDWIN, King