end, let us know always that
it _was_ a world. No easy matter to get across the chasm of Seven
Centuries: Of all helps, a Boswell, even a small Boswell, the
welcomest. (p. 60.)

Chap. III. _Landlord Edmund._

'Battle of Fornham,' a fact, though a forgotten one. Edmund, Landlord
of the Eastern Counties: A very singular kind of 'landlord.' How he
came to be 'sainted.' Seen and felt to have done verily a man's part
in this life-pilgrimage of his. How they took up the slain body of
their Edmund, and reverently embalmed it. (p. 65.)--Pious munificence,
ever growing by new pious gifts. Certain Times do crystallise
themselves in a magnificent manner, others in a rather shabby one.
(71.)

Chap. IV. _Abbot Hugo._

All things have two faces, a light one and a dark: The Ideal has to
grow in the Real, and to seek its bed and board there, often in a very
sorry manner. Abbot Hugo, grown old and feeble. Jew debts and Jew
creditors. How approximate justice strives to accomplish itself. (p.
73.)--In the old monastic Books almost no mention whatever of
'personal religion.' A poor Lord Abbot, all stuck-over with
horse-leeches: A 'royal commission of inquiry,' to no purpose. A
monk's first duty, obedience. Magister Samson, Teacher of the Novices.
The Abbot's providential death. (76.)

Chap. V. _Twelfth Century._

Inspectors or Custodiars; the King not in any breathless haste to
appoint a new Abbot. Dim and very strange looks that monk-life to us.
Our venerable ancient spinning grandmothers, shrieking, and rushing
out with their distaffs. Lakenheath eels too slippery to be caught.
(p. 79.)--How much is alive in England, in that Twelfth Century; how
much not yet come into life. Feudal Aristocracy; Willelmus Conquaestor:
Not a steeple-chimney yet got on end from sea to sea. (82.)

Chap. VI. _Monk Samson._

Monk-Life and Monk-Religion: A great heaven-high Unquestionability,
encompassing, interpenetrating all human Duties. Our modern Arkwright
Joe-Manton ages: All human dues and reciprocities changed into one
great due of 'cash-payment.' The old monks but a limited class of
creatures, with a somewhat dull life of it. (p. 84.)--One Monk of a
taciturn nature distinguishes himself among those babbling ones. A Son
of poor Norfolk parents. Little Samson's awful dream: His poor Mother
dedicates him to St. Edmund. He grows to be a learned man, of devout
grave nature. Sent to Rome on business; and returns _too_ successful:
Method of