Somewhat earlier than the formation of these orders of monks and friars that have been described, zealous, enthusiastic missionaries preached the Gospel in the countries of western Europe. Two of the most famous of them were Saint Patrick in the sixth century and Saint Augustine in the seventh. Saint Patrick is thought to have been captured by pirates when he was about fifteen years of age and sold as a slave in Ireland. For six long years he led a lonely life, tending sheep on the mountain side. He had no one to talk to, and he began to talk to God. Sometimes, he says, he poured out his prayers a hundred times a day. His eyes were wide open for a chance to escape; and at the end of the sixth year he succeeded in making his way to his old home in Scotland. But in his dreams he often heard the voices of the Irish calling, "Come and teach us of the Christ"; and he went to France to study and prepare to be a missionary. When he was ready, he returned to Ireland in a little boat. "Pirates, master, there are pirates on the shore!" cried a herdsman. But when the master and his people came with arms to drive the pirates away, they found a little group of people of such noble and dignified bearing that instead of attacking them, he asked them to be his guests; and he and his family soon became Christians.

Easter was at hand, and Saint Patrick, as was the custom, kindled an Easter fire. This time was also a festival among the heathen in honor of the goddess of spring; and when king Leoghaire went out to light his own fire, behold, he saw one burning on the hill of Slane. The law of the land was that while the king's fire was ablaze, no other should burn in all the country around. The penalty of breaking this law was death. Leoghaire sent in wrath for these bold strangers to be brought before him to defend themselves. This was just what the fearless missionary wanted. On Easter Sunday, he and his companions in their fresh white robes came into the presence of the king, and told him of the religion of Christ. He listened closely, and gave them permission to preach in his dominions wherever they might choose. This was the beginning of Saint Patrick's preaching. Up and down the land he and his friends journeyed, teaching the people and founding churches; and when he died, at a good old age, the whole country mourned for him.

It is thought that there were Christians in some parts of Ireland even before the coming of Saint Patrick; but no one knows how the faith of Christ first became known in the land. In England, too, the earlier inhabitants, the Britons, had learned Christianity; but they had been either slain or driven to the westward by the Saxons. These Saxons were heathen; and in the seventh century, Saint Augustine was sent by the Pope to preach to them. He landed on the Island of Thanet and sent word to King Ethelbert, "We are come from Rome, and we have brought a joyful message. It assures to all who receive it everlasting happiness in heaven, and a kingdom that will never end, with the living and true God."

Now the king had married a Frankish princess who was a Christian, and probably this was why he was willing to listen to these strangers. He was a little afraid that they might bewitch him, however, and when he came to hear what they had to say, he refused to enter a house, and seated himself in the open air where no magic arts would have effect. He listened to their preaching; and then told them that, although their words were fair, they were new, and he could not forsake the belief which he and the nation had followed so long. "But I will provide you with a house in Canterbury," he said, "with food and whatever else you need, and you may preach and gain as many as you can to your faith."

So the missionaries preached and prayed. They held services in the queen's church, and by and by the king himself became a Christian. Then he gave the preachers a settled home in Canterbury and property enough to supply all their needs. So it was that the faith of Christ was preached in England. The king was ready to build monasteries and churches. Sometimes he built them from the foundation, and sometimes he repaired a building left by the Romans. In Canterbury there was an old church which some of the Romans who were Christians had built and used. This he had put in order. In later years the more modern church that took its place became the cathedral of Canterbury to which so many pilgrims went to pray at the shrine of Thomas à Becket.

In Germany a number of Irish priests worked among the people in the early part of the seventh century; but when Saint Boniface came from England in 717, he wrote to the Pope that "for sixty or seventy years past religion had vanished." He set to work most heartily to persuade the people of Hesse that the religion of Christ was true. Some believed what he taught and became sincere Christians. Many, however, were inclined to accept this new teaching, but were a little afraid of what their old gods might do to them if they should desert them entirely. When they were in quiet and safety, they were willing to trust the God of the Christians; but when they were in danger, especially if out on a stormy ocean, they thought it was more prudent to call upon Odin and Thor. Boniface discovered that some of the people who had been baptized as Christians were in the habit of slipping away into the woods, out of the sight of the priests, and there offering up sacrifices to trees and springs. Many, too, were practicing divination and soothsaying. The wise missionary consulted with some of the most sincere and courageous among his followers, and they decided what to do to prove to these half-hearted folk that they need have no fear of their old gods. It seems that there was an immense oak tree in the land sacred to the god Thor, and therefore called the Oak of Thor. The missionary took an axe, and he and his faithful followers went straight to the sacred tree. Then the timid folk were thoroughly frightened. He raised his axe and struck a blow. "He is the enemy of the gods," cried the people, and they called down bitter curses upon him, and stood trembling with fear. No one knew what would happen, but they believed that at the very least fire would burst out and destroy this daring preacher. But Boniface kept on until he had cut into the trunk a little way; when, behold, a gentle breeze rustled the upper leaves, and suddenly the top of the tree snapped off and broke into four any rate, that is the tradition. Then the people said to one another, "That is surely the power of the Christian God." They left off cursing the preacher and began to praise God. Boniface built an oratory from the wood of the tree. He founded monasteries where the monks worked on the soil and copied books, helped the poor, and showed hospitality to travelers. He longed to die as a martyr, and his wish was granted. On one of his journeys down the Rhine, a crowd of the heathen suddenly rushed out of the woods. He thought that they were coming to ask for baptism, but instead of that they attacked him to get the booty which they supposed he had with him. He forbade his followers to protect him by the shedding of blood; and holding the book of the Gospels over his head, he met the martyrdom that he desired.

Not all the missionary work was done by monks and saints. There were kings who converted many to baptism, but by methods decidedly different from the persuasions and arguments of the good missionaries. One of the two kings was Charlemagne. His people, the Franks, had become Christians; but on their borders were the heathen Saxons. There was constant trouble between the two peoples, and at length Charlemagne set out to conquer the Saxons, and in the warlike fashion of the day, to make them Christians. Now, just as the people of Hesse had a sacred oak, so the Saxons had a sacred statue, which stood northwest of what is now Cassel. It represented a warrior holding a banner in one hand and a balance in the other. On his breastplate was a bear, to indicate courage. On his shield was pictured a lion resting on a bed of flowers, to express the idea that to the fearless warrior battle was a time of enjoyment. It is probable that in the first place the statue represented one Arminius who won a great victory over the Romans, and that its name, Irminsul, had been originally Arminius. It stood on a high pillar. Priests lived near it to offer up sacrifices, often prisoners taken in war, and priestesses here practiced incantations and soothsaying. Charlemagne destroyed the Irminsul, and pushed on until the Saxons were subdued. He told them that they must promise to be faithful to him and that they must be baptized. They had little choice in the matter, for if they refused, the headsman with his axe stood waiting. If they submitted, the royal missionary was ready to reward them with gifts. Naturally, they promised whatever he wished; and the converts were escorted to the banks of the Lippe River. Thither came the priests and monks and bishops of the Franks. Charlemagne and his nobles became sponsors, and these fierce new Christians were baptized without delay. Indeed, it is said that somewhat later they found the new faith so profitable in the matter of white robes and baptismal gifts of ornaments and weapons that they came every Easter in increasing numbers. The old story says that on one occasion fifty bold Northmen presented themselves for baptism. There were not enough robes of white linen prepared, and therefore garments were hastily cut out of whatever cloth could be obtained and sewed up roughly like bags. One of the new converts cried in a rage, "I have been baptized here twenty times before, and every time I was clothed in the best of white garments; and now you give me a sack better fitted to a swineherd than a warrior."

This was in the reign of a weaker king than Charlemagne, but even in his day the Saxons revolted again and again and struggled for their freedom. They destroyed the churches and tore down the crosses. Whenever they came to a convent, they left it in ruins. Saint Boniface had been buried at the convent of Fulda. The monks caught up his body as their greatest treasure and fled for their lives. Wittekind, leader of the Saxons, finally became a Christian convert and a most zealous one. There is a tradition that he made his way into Charlemagne's camp in disguise as a spy, and that he chanced to enter the tent where mass was being celebrated. Just at that moment the priest was elevating the consecrated bread, and as the heathen chieftain gazed in amazement and curiosity, a light shone out from the host, and in the light he saw a wonderfully beautiful child, the Christ Child. The tradition says that Wittekind was discovered and taken to Charlemagne, that he begged to be baptized and to enter the church, and became an ardent teacher of his people.

Another imperial missionary was King Olaf Trygvasson of Norway. He had a wild, strange boyhood. He was captured by pirates and sold as a slave. He became a fearless viking, and succeeded in making his way back to Norway and getting possession of his great-grandfather's throne. In Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf, he says that the king was

King Olaf loved warfare, the din of armor, and the flashing of steel, and one of his commands to his skald, or poet, was

It was probably on one of his viking voyages to England that he became a Christian. He was as much in earnest in his religion as in his fighting, and he set to work to make his countrymen Christians whether they would or not. Christianity was not new in Norway; but the Norwegians had little idea of giving up the old ways. King Olaf persuaded, he bribed, he threatened, he even tortured; and before his reign of five years was at an end, he had made Norway an exceedingly uncomfortable place for any one who persisted in worshiping heathen gods. In a fascinating old book, The Heimskringla, or Chronicles of the Kings of Norway, which has been translated from the Icelandic, are the stories of Olaf. Longfellow has put many of them into verse. At one time when King Olaf had called a meeting of his people, they came fully armed to demand that he restore the old worship of the gods and offer up sacrifices. Olaf was a match for them. He said, "If I, along with you, shall turn again to making sacrifices, then will I make the greatest sacrifices. I will not offer up slaves or malefactors, but men of note and high degree." He named eleven of the prominent men present, and ordered them to be seized at once. Then he strode into the temple and smote the images of Thor and Odin and the other gods and dashed them to the floor. Without the temple there was a sound of fighting between the men at arms and the peasants. There was a shout of triumph and a wail of sorrow; and as Olaf stood in the doorway, he saw the dead body of Iron-Beard, strongest of his foes. Longfellow thus tells the ending of this story of King Olaf's missionary work:—

This fashion of carrying on missions in the eleventh century was little like the methods pursued in the twentieth; but no one can say that it was not at least energetic and sincere.