disgrace compared with those of Caedmon. And nothing can be farther
different from the temper, nothing less conscious of the effort, of a
poet, than any finally authentic document to which you can be referred
for the relation of a Saxon miracle.

I will read you, for a perfectly typical example, an account of one
from Bede's 'Life of St. Cuthbert,' The passage is a favourite one of
my own, but I do not in the least anticipate its producing upon you
the solemnizing effect which I think I could command from reading,
instead, a piece of 'Marmion,' 'Manfred,' or 'Childe Harold.'

... "He had one day left his cell to give advice to some visitors; and
when he had finished, he said to them, 'I must now go in again, but do
you, as you are inclined to depart, first take food; and when you have
cooked and eaten that goose which is hanging on the wall, go on board
your vessel in God's name and return home.' He then uttered a prayer,
and, having blessed them, went in. But they, as he had bidden them,
took some food; but having enough provisions of their own, which they
had brought with them, they did not touch the goose.

"But when they had refreshed themselves they tried to go on board
their vessel, but a sudden storm utterly prevented them from putting
to sea. They were thus detained seven days in the island by the
roughness of the waves, and yet they could not call to mind what fault
they had committed. They therefore returned to have an interview with
the holy father, and to lament to him their detention. He exhorted
them to be patient, and on the seventh day came out to console their
sorrow, and to give them pious exhortations. When, however, he had
entered the house in which they were stopping, and saw that the goose
was not eaten, he reproved their disobedience with mild countenance