lated that she died a martyr, pierced by an arrow. If
such confusion of ideas could happen in a time when literature and science
had made considerable progress, and when the art of printing was already
universally known, how much more frequently such things must have occurred
during the prevailing ignorance of the middle ages! And, indeed, there are
many wild legends which have originated from a similar source, and of
which the most celebrated is that of St Denis, which has been also related
of other saints. This martyr, supposed to have been beheaded, was
represented holding his head in his hand, as an emblem of the manner of
his death. The writer of his legend took this emblem for the
representation of a real fact, and loosening the reins of his imagination,
related that the saint, after having been beheaded, took up his head,
kissed it, and walked away with it.(80)

It is a general tendency of a gross and unenlightened mind to materialise
the most abstract and spiritual ideas, and then what is simply an allegory
becomes with him a reality. It was this tendency which, during the
mediaeval ignorance, gave often a literal sense to what is only typical,
and it was carried so far that even the parables of our Lord were
constructed into real stories. Thus, Lazarus was a poor saint who lived in
great want, and was made after his death the patron of beggars and lepers.
The parable of the prodigal son has furnished materials for many a legend;
and to crown all these pious parodies, a monk has shown to the well-known
Eastern traveller Hasselquist, the very spot upon which the good Samaritan
assisted the wounded man, who had been left unheeded by the priest and the
Levite. Future rewards and punishments, heaven and hell, were also
represented in a grossly material manner, that gave rise to many absurd
legends, generally invented with the object of supporting the pretensions
of the church, to have the power of sending at pleasure the souls of the
departed to either of these places.(81)

I have already spoken of the effects which the solitary and ascetic life
of the early monks produced upon their imagination. The same thing took
place amongst the recluses of the convents, but particularly nunneries.
"The imaginations of women," says a celebrated author whom I have already
quoted, "as their feelings are more keen and exquisite, are more
susceptible and ungovernable than those of men; more obnoxious to the
injurious influence of s