missionary work, going forth from his cell in the monastery, often for weeks at a time, to preach to the ignorant people round him. These journeys led him as far as Pictland on the West Coast. In 664 he was removed from Melrose to be Prior of the parent house at Lindisfarne. This post he filled for twelve years, employing himself in the same works of charity and piety which had occupied his time at Melrose. In 678 he seems to have felt that his duty to man had been fulfilled, that thenceforward he might devote himself to the care of his own soul. He retired to a solitary cell which he fixed, first on a lonely spot on the mainland, then on the uninhabited island of Farne, a few miles to the south of Lindisfarne. His own abode was a cell of the narrowest dimensions into which no one was permitted to enter; it was furnished with an oratory, and surrounded by a wall which shut out all prospect of sea or land. But for his visitors and the fame of his sanctity brought many visitors to the spot-he raised a humble building. But it was seldom that they were permitteci to see him. Now and then, when there seemed to be some urgent reason for granting the boon, he would. show his face and give his blessing.

In this solitude he dwelt for eight years. In 684 he was persuaded to leave it to fill the office of bishop to which he had been chosen at the Synod of Twyford. To persuade him, indeed, was no easy task. King Egferth had to come in person and urge him to accept the office. His old superior, too, Eata, Bishop of Lindisfarne, resigned his see to him, taking in exchange the bishopric of Hexham. For something

THE ABBOT OF LINDISFARNE.

165

less than two years he stayed at Lindisfarne; then he resigned his see, and went forth to his cell at Farne. In February, 686, about two months after his return, he was seized with his last sickness. The abbot of Lindisfarne went to see him and received his directions about his burial. Then he left him promising soon to return. But stormy weather prevented him from fulfilling his promise for five days. When he came, weakness had mastered the old man's

*

ST. CUTHBERT'S CROSS.

love of solitude. Cuthbert was waiting for him in the building which he had erected for his guests. He had been there all the time, longing for his return. He consented, too, to the abbot's leaving some of the brethren behind to minister to his wants. A second time the abbot returned to Farne, for he saw that the end was near, and he was anxious to change the dying man's purpose about his remains.

Hitherto he had commanded that they should be buried near his cell ; now he consented to their being taken to Lindisfarne. The reason he gave for his former wish is curiously characteristic of the time. He had not grudged the monastery anything that he could give it, but he had thought of what would be to its good. His fame, he was sure, would lead to a sanctuary being established wherever his bones might be laid. Criminals would flee to them for safety, and the brethren would have trouble with the civil power. The dying man was then taken into his oratory, where one of the monks watched by him. Then the abbot was called in to hear his last words. About midnight on the 20th of March he died. He had lingered nearly three weeks after the first attack of his disease. The abbot waved a torch in either hand as a signal to the watchmen at Lindisfarne, and he hurried into the church where the monks were assembled to tell the news. The next day the body was brought to the monastery and buried by the altar. It now rests at Durham. The story of its wanderings-for Cuthbert in his last hours had enjoined on the abbot that the brotherhood must never leave it belongs to a later time, to a time when the Danes were a constant terror to the land.

THE ENGLISH PEOPLE.

IT is time to say something of the political and social condition of the people which has now settled itself permanently in Britain, though it must be premised that some of the details belong to a later time.

It may be considered certain that the English tribes, while dwelling in their first home, knew nothing of kings. There was a noble and a nonnoble class among them, individuals of the former rising doubtless from time to time, by the force of great abilities and on occasion of great national emergency, to a commanding position. But there was no permanent monarchy. But this was changed by the migration to their new dwelling-place. Perhaps it may be said that the emergencies that called for the institution of kingship became permanent. Anyhow, we find the chieftains who led their successive bodies of invaders becoming kings of this or that region conquered by them, and the monarchy is hereditary, though not by any strict principle of succession such as now prevails. A minor could be

passed over in favour of an older kinsman, whose age more fitted him for the post; a weak prince might be set aside. But, as time went on, convenience dictated a more strict observance of the hereditary principle, election being found in practice to give rise to troubles and disputes. But we never find an assertion of what may be described as the jus divinum of the pedigree. On the other hand, it

should be noticed that all the English kings, whether tribal or national, belonged to a limited caste. all claimed to be descended from Woden.

They

The kingdom was what we call a constitutional monarchy, exactly the "hereditary kingship with well-defined prerogatives" of Thucydides. The king was the chief magistrate in peace, the chief leader in war. His actual power differed much with the individual who exercised it, but it was military rather than civil, nearly absolute in the field, sharply limited in civil matters to the administration of justice. But the theory of his power continued to develop. In the earliest times he was so far on a level with his subjects, that his life could be assessed like theirs, only at a higher price. The "wer-gild," or bloodmoney of a king, was put at 7,200 shillings, that of a ceorl at two hundred. The special sanctity of later days had not been invented. But various causes, native and foreign, were at work developing it. Before the Conquest, it had a rudimentary existence.

The eorl or earl1 was the chief man of the village,

1 This word must be carefully distinguished from the "earl" of later times, a title taking its origin, we may suppose, from the Danish "jarl," and superse ling the older designation of "alderman," or, more properly, "earldorman."