he property confided to his own and his brother's care by their
guest Ratleig. And the honest notary himself seems to have no hesitation
about lying and stealing to any extent, where the acquisition of relics
is the object in view.

For a parallel to these transactions one must read a police report of
the doings of a "long firm" or of a set of horse-coupers; yet Eginhard
seems to be aware of nothing, but that he has been rather badly used by
his friend Hildoin, and the "nequissimus nebulo" Hunus.

It is not easy for a modern Protestant, still less for any one who has
the least tincture of scientific culture, whether physical or
historical, to picture to himself the state of mind of a man of the
ninth century, however cultivated, enlightened, and sincere he may have
been. His deepest convictions, his most cherished hopes, were bound up
with the belief in the miraculous. Life was a constant battle between
saints and demons for the possession of the souls of men. The most
superstitious among our modern countrymen turn to supernatural agencies
only when natural causes seem insufficient; to Eginhard and his friends
the supernatural was the rule: and the sufficiency of natural causes was
allowed only when there was nothing to suggest others.

Moreover, it must be recollected that the possession of miracle-working
relics was greatly coveted, not only on high, but on very low grounds.
To a man like Eginhard, the mere satisfaction of the religious sentiment
was obviously a powerful attraction. But, more than this, the possession
of such a treasure was an immense practical advantage. If the saints
were duly flattered and worshipped, there was no telling what benefits
might result from their interposition on your behalf. For physical
evils, access to the shrine was like the grant of the use of a universal
pill and ointment manufactory; and pilgrimages thereto might suffice to
cleanse the performers from any amount of sin. A letter to Lupus,
subsequently Abbot of Ferrara, written while Eginhard was smarting under
the grief caused by the loss of his much-loved wife Imma, affords a
striking insight into the current view of the relation between the
glorified saints and their worshippers. The writer shows that he is
anything but satisfied with the way in which he has been treated by the
blessed martyrs whose remains he has taken such pains to "convey" to
Seligenstadt, and to honour there as they would never have been honoured
in thei