Method and order were the rule of his life. One portion of his income he allotted to his warriors and attendants; another to the buildings which his architects from beyond the seas erected for him; a third for the relief of foreigners; and the remainder for the Church, the schools, and the poor. His time, too, was methodically bestowed on good works. Eight hours each day were devoted to rest and refreshment; another eight hours to affairs of state; the remaining eight hours to study and religious exercises. To enable him rightly to apportion the time which he deemed so precious, he fashioned wax candles, six of which, burned in succession, marked the lapse of twenty-four hours. To guard against the irregularities caused by draughts, he enclosed his candles in lanterns of thin, transparent horn. Thus he measured his time, zealous that the golden sands should not run out unheeded, and that no day should pass without its tale of duty done, opportunities seized, and benefits conferred. And now we must bid farewell to this peerless king. A thousand summers have come and gone since his countrymen bore him to his tomb, deeming that the light of their land had been extinguished. They loved and honoured him, and we revere his memory as that of probably the most perfect character in history. He remains as the mirror of monarchs in which they may perceive the elements of true majesty, and an inspiring example to all of triumphant devotion, fortitude, and faith. [Illustration] [Illustration: =Alfred in the Camp of the Danes.= (_From the design by H. A. Bone. By permission of Antony Gibbs, Esq._)] [Illustration] KING CANUTE. “_Canute o’ercame the race of Ethelred, and Danes wielded the dear realm of Angle-land, eight-and-twenty of winters numbered._” No saint he who now strides by—a thrice-crowned king, with the Viking blood surging tumultuously in his veins. England, Norway, and Denmark own his sway; but though Denmark is the land of his birth, England is the land of his love and pride. Dane he is in form and feature, but his lust of strife and fierce Berserk rage are controlled by cool judgment and the generous instincts of a good but wayward heart, so that in his later days he grows wise and temperate. His father, Sweyn, “lighting his war-beacons in blazing homestead and town,” has harried the realm of England in revenge for a cruel massacre of his kinsmen by a weak and ruthless king, and Canute, ere his beard has grown, has entered into a glorious heritage.