Every thing is very fine, and very rich, and very superb, and very magnificent, said my father, addressing himself to the sacristan, who was a younger brother of the order of Benedictines--but our curiosity has led us to see the bodies, of which Monsieur Sequier has given the world so exact a description.--The sacristan made a bow, and lighting a torch first, which he had always in the vestry ready for the purpose; he led us into the tomb of St. Heribald--This, said the sacristan, laying his hand upon the tomb, was a renowned prince of the house of Bavaria, who under the successive reigns of Charlemagne, Louis le Debonnair, and Charles the Bald, bore a great sway in the government, and had a principal hand in bringing every thing into order and discipline--Then he has been as great, said my uncle, in the field, as in the cabinet--I dare say he has been a gallant soldier--He was a monk--said the sacristan.
My uncle Toby and Trim sought comfort in each other's faces--but found it not: my father clapped both his hands upon his cod-piece, which was a way he had when any thing hugely tickled him: for though he hated a monk and the very smell of a monk worse than all the devils in hell--yet the shot hitting my uncle Toby and Trim so much harder than him, 'twas a relative triumph; and put him into the gayest humour in the world.
--And pray what do you call this gentleman? quoth my father, rather sportingly: This tomb, said the young Benedictine, looking downwards, contains the bones of Saint Maxima, who came from Ravenna on purpose to touch the body----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 abbey--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----I thought so, by heaven! cried my father, interrupting him--Saint Optat!--how should Saint Optat fail? so snatching out his pocket-book, and the young Benedictine holding him the torch as he wrote, he set it down as a new prop to his system of Christian names, and I will be bold to say, so disinterested was he in the search of truth, that had he found a treasure in Saint Optat's tomb, it would not have made him half so rich: 'Twas as successful a short visit as ever was paid to the dead; and so highly was his fancy pleas'd with all that had passed in it,--that he determined at once to stay another day in Auxerre.
--I'll see the rest of these good gentry to-morrow, said my father, as we cross'd over the square--And while you are paying that visit, brother Shandy, quoth my uncle Toby--the corporal and I will mount the ramparts.
