Another remarkable cross is that of Ruthwell, now sheltered from wind and weather in the Durham Cathedral Museum.  It is very similar to that at Bewcastle, though probably not wrought by the same hands.  In the panels are sculptures representing events in the life of our Lord.  The lowest panel is too defaced for us to determine the subject; on the second we see the flight into Egypt; on the third figures of Paul, the first hermit, and Anthony, the first monk, are carved; on the fourth is a representation of our Lord treading under foot the heads of swine; and on the highest there is the figure of St. John the Baptist with the lamb.  On the reverse side are the Annunciation, the Salutation, and other scenes of gospel history, and the other sides are covered with floral and other decoration.  In addition to the figures there are five stanzas of an Anglo-Saxon poem of singular beauty expressed in runes.  It is the story of the Crucifixion told in touching words by the cross itself, which narrates its own sad tale from the time when it was a growing tree by the woodside until at length, after the body of the Lord had been taken down—­

        The warriors left me there
        Standing defiled with blood.

On the head of the cross are inscribed the words “Caedmon made me”—­Caedmon the first of English poets who poured forth his songs in praise of Almighty God and told in Saxon poetry the story of the Creation and of the life of our Lord.

Another famous cross is that at Gosforth, which is of a much later date and of a totally different character from those which we have described.  The carvings show that it is not Anglian, but that it is connected with Viking thought and work.  On it is inscribed the story of one of the sagas, the wild legends of the Norsemen, preserved by their scalds or bards, and handed down from generation to generation as the precious traditions of their race.  On the west side we see Heimdal, the brave watchman of the gods, with his sword withstanding the powers of evil, and holding in his left hand the Gialla horn, the terrible blast of which shook the world.  He is overthrowing Hel, the grim goddess of the shades of death, who is riding on the pale horse.  Below we see Loki, the murderer of the holy Baldur, the blasphemer of the gods, bound by strong chains to the sharp edges of a rock, while as a punishment for his crimes a snake drops poison upon his face, making him yell with pain, and the earth quakes with his convulsive tremblings.  His faithful wife Sigyn catches the poison in a cup, but when the vessel is full she is obliged to empty it, and then a drop falls on the forehead of Loki, the destroyer, and the earth shakes on account of his writhings.  The continual conflict between good and evil is wonderfully described in these old Norse legends.  On the reverse side we see the triumph of Christianity, a representation of the Crucifixion, and beneath this the woman bruising the serpent’s head.  In the former sculptures