pious care, and placed the basket in the
church of St. Peter, prince of the Apostles.
While taking out the bones, he separated
them carefully from each other, placing the
large bones in one pile, the small ones in
another. Just as he had finished separating
the bones of St. Benedict from those of
St. Scolastica, two dead bodies, the one of
a male, the other of a female, were brought
forth for burial; when, wondrous to tell, on
the larger bones being placed on the corpse
of the male, he straightway was restored to
life, by the merits of the ever-blessed St.
Benedict. In like manner, when the smaller
bones were placed on the body of the female
she immediately returned to life.—Roger of
Wendover, A. D. 681.

St. Swithin, who died in the year 862,
sate, once upon a time, with some workmen,
by the bridge of the City of Winchester,
encouraging them in their labours by his
presence and his holy conversation. A market-
woman chanced to pass, with some eggs for
sale, on her way into the city. The workmen
made a crowd, jeering and hooting around
her, and insolently broke all her eggs. The
good bishop heard the cries of the poor
woman, made the sign of the Cross over the
eggs, and they became whole and sound as
before.—Roger of Wendover, A.D. 862.

In the year 910, Rollo, the Norman chief,
attacked the town of Chartres, hoping to take
it by a sudden assault. After several attempts
had been made, the citizens, despairing of
being able to withstand the besiegers much
longer, gave themselves up to prayer, and
erected on the highest part of the walls,
by way of standard, the nether garment of
the Virgin Mary, which Charlemagne had
brought from Jerusalem, and had placed in
the monastery of the Virgin in their city.
Rollo and his followers laughed heartily, and
went on as briskly as ever. But, that the
power of the Mother of God might tame the
rash boastfulness, and silence the jeering of
the infidels, Rollo and his men were suddenly
seized with a great and sudden panic, and
hastily abandoning their arms and war-
engines, they took to flight in utter confusion.
The town's-people then gave pursuit, and
slew many thousands of them with the edge
of the sword, compelling Rollo himself to fly
to Rouen, beaten and confounded.—Roger of
Wendover, A.D. 910.

In the year A.D. 651, the holy Bishop Aidan
fell sick, whilst tarrying not far from
Bamborough, in Northumberland; but to the end
that he might still continue his pious exhortations,
the people set up a tent for him, close to
the wall at the west end of the church. It so
happened, that, feeling faint and sick unto
death, he leaned against a post that served as
a buttress to the walls, and gave up the
ghost. Finan succeeded him.

Some years after, Penda, king of the
Mercians, coming into these parts with a vast and
ravaging horde of barbarian soldiers, spread
desolation everywhere before him with fire
and sword, and burned down the church where
the Bishop Aidan had died. But the post
against which he had leaned, as he breathed
his last, could in no wise be destroyed by the
flames. In consequence of this miracle, the
church was speedily rebuilt, and that very
post was placed against the outside, as before.
Some time after, the village and church were
burned a second time, yet did that post stand
stanch and unblackened by the flames; and
when, in a manner wondrous to behold, the
fire broke through the very holes in it wherewith
it was fixed to the building, and destroyed
the church, it could do no hurt to the post.
When, therefore, the church was a third
time built, they did not, as before, place that
post on the outside, as a support, but within,
as a memorial of the miracle; and the people
coming in used to kneel down before the post,
and implore God's mercy. And since then,
many have been healed in divers manners;
and chips that have been cut off from that
post, and put into water, have had a like
virtue over many distempers.—Bede, Hist.
Anglic., book iii., chap. 17.

St. Wulfric, who had given up his younger
days to hounds and hawks, was at length
converted; and so great was his austerity
in habits, and earnestness in mortifying his
fleshly inclinations, that he ofttimes at night
would plunge into a bath of cold water, and
there repeat the Penitential Psalms. He had
worn a common shirt of sackcloth; but, to
the end that he might more vigorously make
a campaign against the desires of this world
and of the flesh, he craved of a certain knight,
William, the lord of his village, a coat of mail.

William gladly gave him the mail-shirt;
but Wulfric found that it struck against his
knees, and prevented his constant genuflexions.
Then he invited unto him the knight, in whom
he confided, and told him touching the length
of the mail-shirt. "It shall be sent to
London," answered the knight, " and indented in
any way you choose."—Quoth the man of
God, " That would cause too long a delay,
and might be thought done for ostentation's
sake. Take these shears, in God's name, and
perform the work with thine own hand."—
Thus saying, he placed in the knight's hands
a pair of shears, which he had brought from
the knight's own house; and seeing him
hesitate, as though he thought the hermit's senses
were rambling, he continued: " Be bold, and
linger not. I will to the Lord, and pray
touching this business; meanwhile do thou
cut bravely."—And so the two were busily
employed—the one praying, and the other
cutting—and the work prospered right well;
for the knight felt as though he were cutting
cloth, not iron, so readily did the shears
sever it; but when the man of God ceased
praying, the knight, who had not yet finished
his work, could cut no longer. Wulfric came
up, and asked him how he had succeeded.—
" Right well," answered the knight " so far;