the Saints, for the sailors around her were in the greatest danger of
being drowned."

"'Madam,' I replied, 'vow to make a pilgrimage to my lord St. Nicholas
at Varengeville, and I promise you that God will restore you in safety
to France. At least, then, Madam, promise him that if God shall
restore you in safety to France, you will give him a silver ship of
the value of five masses; and if you shall do this, I assure you that,
at the entreaty of St. Nicholas, God will grant you a successful
voyage.' Upon this, she made a vow of a silver ship to St. Nicholas."
Similarly, there was a statue at Venice said to have performed great
miracles. A merchant vowed perpetual gifts of wax candles in gratitude
for being saved by the light of a candle on a dark night, reminding
us of Byron's description of a storm at sea, in 'Don Juan' (Canto
II.):

"Some went to prayers again and made vows
Of candles to their saints."

Numerous vows of this kind are recorded, and it may be remembered how
a certain Empress promised a golden lamp to the church of Notre Dame
des Victoires, in the event of her husband coming safely out of the
doctor's hands; and, as recently as the year 1867, attired in the garb
of a pilgrim of the olden time, walked, in fulfilment of a vow, from
Madrid to Rome when she fancied herself at death's door.

Many card-players and gamesters, unable to bear reverse, have made
vows which they lacked the moral courage to keep. Dr. Norman Macleod
tells a curious anecdote of a well-known character who lived in the
parish of Sedgley, near Wolverhampton, and who, having lost a