Olaf's body was secretly carried, after dark, to some out-house on the farm near the spot; whither a poor blind beggar, creeping in for shelter that very evening, was miraculously restored to sight.

And, truly with a notable, almost miraculous, speed, the feelings of all Norway for King Olaf changed themselves, and were turned upside down, "within a year," or almost within a day.

Superlative example of _Extinctus amabitur idem._ Not "Olaf the Thick-set" any longer, but "Olaf the Blessed" or Saint, now clearly in Heaven; such the name and character of him from that time to this.

Two churches dedicated to him (out of four that once stood) stand in London at this moment.
And the miracles that have been done there, not to speak of Norway and Christendom elsewhere, in his name, were numerous and great for long centuries afterwards.

Visibly a Saint Olaf ever since; and, indeed, in _Bollandus_ or elsewhere, I have seldom met with better stuff to make a Saint of, or a true World-Hero in all good senses.
Speaking of the London Olaf Churches, I should have added that from one of these the thrice-famous Tooley Street gets its name,--where those Three Tailors, addressing Parliament and the Universe, sublimely styled themselves, "We, the People of England." Saint Olave Street, Saint Oley Street, Stooley Street, Tooley Street; such are the metamorphoses of human fame in the world! The battle-day of Stickelstad, King Olaf's death-day, is generally believed to have been Wednesday, July 31, 1033.