----Of Saint MAXIMUS, said my father, popping in with his saint before him, --they were two of the greatest saints in the whole martyrology, added my father ----Excuse me, said the sacristan--------'twas to touch the bones of Saint _Germain_, the builder of the abby ----And what did she get by it? said my uncle _Toby_ ----What does any woman get by it? said my father ----MARTYRDOME; replied the young _Benedictine_, making a bow down to the ground, and uttering the word with so humble but decisive a cadence, it disarmed my father for a moment. 'Tis supposed, continued the _Benedictine_, that St. _Maxima_ has lain in this tomb four hundred years, and two hundred before her canonization----'Tis but a slow rise, brother _Toby_, quoth my father, in this self-same army of martyrs. ----A desperate slow one, an' please your honour, said _Trim_, unless one could purchase ----I should rather sell out entirely, quoth my uncle _Toby_ ----I am pretty much of your opinion, brother _Toby_, said my father.
----Poor St. _Maxima!_ said my uncle _Toby_ low to himself, as we turn'd from her tomb: She was one of the fairest and most beautiful ladies either of _Italy_ or _France_, continued the sacristan ----But who the duce has got lain down here, besides her? quoth my father, pointing with his cane to a large tomb as we walked on ----It is Saint _Optat_, Sir, answered the sacristan ----And properly is Saint _Optat_ plac'd! said my father: And what is Saint _Optat's_ story? continued he. Saint _Optat_, replied the sacristan, was a bishop----

 to touch the bones of Saint Germain, the builder of the abbey.'
'And what did she get by it?' said my uncle Toby.
'What does any woman get by it?' said my father.
'Martyrdom,' replied the young Benedictine, with so humble yet decisive a tone, it disarmed my father for a moment. ''Tis supposed,' continued the Benedictine, 'that St. Maxima has lain in this tomb four hundred years, and two hundred before her canonization.'
''Tis a slow rise, brother Toby,' quoth my father, 'in this army of martyrs.'
'A desperate slow one, your honour,' said Trim.
'Poor St. Maxima!' said my uncle Toby low to himself.
'She was one of the fairest ladies of Italy or France,' continued the sacristan.
'But who the deuce has got lain down here?' quoth my father, pointing with his cane to a large tomb as we walked on.
'It is Saint Optat, Sir,' answered the sacristan.
'And what is Saint Optat's story?'
'Saint Optat was a bishop-'
