more doubtful victory over the Dragon, won by the great Margaret of
German literature.

V. With much more clearness and historic comfort we may approach the
shrine of St. Cecilia; and even on the most prosaic and realistic
minds--such as my own--a visit to her house in Rome has a comforting
and establishing effect, which reminds one of the carter in 'Harry
and Lucy,' who is convinced of the truth of a plaustral catastrophe at
first incredible to him, as soon as he hears the name of the hill on
which it happened. The ruling conception of her is deepened gradually
by the enlarged study of Religious music; and is at its best and
highest in the thirteenth century, when she rather resists than
complies with the already tempting and distracting powers of sound;
and we are told that "cantantibus organis, Cecilia virgo in corde suo
soli Domino decantabat, dicens, 'Fiat, Domine, cor meum et corpus meum
immaculatum, ut non confundar.'"

("While the instruments played, Cecilia the virgin sang in her
heart only to the Lord, saying, Oh Lord, be my heart and body made
stainless, that I be not confounded.")

This sentence occurs in my great Service-book of the convent of
Beau-pré, written in 1290, and it is illustrated with a miniature of
Cecilia sitting silent at a banquet, where all manner of musicians are
playing. I need not point out to you how the law, not of sacred music
only, so called, but of _all_ music, is determined by this sentence;
which means in effect that unless music exalt and purify, it is not
under St. Cecilia's ordinance, and it is not, virtually, music at all.

Her confessed power at last expires amidst a hubbub of odes and