The Life of Saint Columba, Apostle of Scotland. Forbes Frances Alice
and slow to forgive an injury is a characteristic of the Celtic race all the world over, and Columba was no exception to the rule. Long and sharp was to be the struggle before that quick and imperious nature was wholly conquered by the grace of God, but great was to be the victory at last.
To Cruithnechan it was evident that the blessing of God rested in no small degree on the child of his fostering. Returning home one night he saw his house lit up as it were with a great fire, and fearing for the safety of his little charge he entered in haste. All was in darkness within, save over the head of the sleeping child, where there hung a globe of fire. The old man fell on his knees, not knowing what the portent might mean; but God reassured him, showing that the light of His Holy Spirit had been poured out abundantly upon Columba, who was to labour fruitfully in His service.
It has always been acknowledged by the Celtic races that among the children of men there are a chosen few who are gifted with the second sight. Strange instances are given of mortal eyes that have seen the invisible, and of men and women who have known things that are not to be discerned by the senses. A little corner of the veil that hides the spiritual world from the world of sense has been lifted. From the earliest ages, to those who are exceptionally pure of heart and holy, this contact with the spiritual world has been given in a supernatural degree. The materialist may scoff, but the voice of the Ages is louder and clearer in our ears than his.
From his childhood Columba seems to have possessed this gift in a very marked manner. His guardian angel, we are told by his biographers, appeared to him frequently, and the child would talk to him familiarly, and ask him if all the spirits in heaven were as radiant and beautiful as he. One day the angel bade the boy tell him what he would choose if any virtue might be his for the asking.
"I would choose purity and wisdom," answered he.
"Well hast thou chosen, Columba," said the angel, "they shall be thine, and God will add to them yet another gift."
So it came to pass in the course of time that there appeared one day before Columba three beautiful maidens, who would have embraced him, but he pushed them roughly away.
"Dost thou not know us, Columba?" asked one of them, and a celestial radiance shone from her face and garments as she spoke. "We are three sisters sent to thee from our Father, that we may abide with thee for ever."
"I know you not," said Columba. "Who is your father?"
"Our Father is God, the Lord and Saviour of the world," answered the maiden, and her voice was like the music of heaven.
"Truly a noble parentage," said the boy. "By what names do men call you?"
"Our names are Purity, Prophecy, and Wisdom," she answered, "and we have come never to leave thee more, and to love thee with an incorruptible love."
So among the peaceful hills and lakes of Donegal the boy Columba grew into manhood. Tall and fair and straight of limb was the son of Eithne and Fedhlimidh, with a voice clear and sweet as a trumpet-call, and a heart that was fearless, pure, and true. Cruithnechan had done his work well; he had taught Columba all that he knew of earthly lore and of heavenly; but the time of his fostering was over. He must go forth now into the great world that lay beyond the quiet mountains, the world of strife and of tragedy, of joy and of sorrow.
A strange world and one of many contrasts, that of Ireland in the sixth century. To the unanimous voice of Christianity she owed her name of the "Island of the Saints." From the days of St. Patrick the monastic schools, veritable cities of God in the midst of the strife and barbarism of those early days, exerted their influence on the life around them in favour of piety, learning and civilization. Here were being formed a whole population of writers, theologians, architects, sculptors, poets, historians, and above all of missioners and preachers, who were to carry the light of the Gospel far and wide into other lands. The founders of these schools were mostly of the noblest blood in Ireland, and kings and princes did not disdain to come to them for advice and help, or even to listen to their reproofs. Most powerful for good was the influence of the Church in Ireland, and well for her that it was so, for the times were wild and lawless.
To the Hy-Nialls, the kinsmen of Columba, belonged the whole north-west of Ireland. The sovereign rule over the entire country was theirs, in the Irish colony of Dalriada in Caledonia over the seas, as well as in the mother-country of Erin.
They exercised authority over the provincial kings, but an authority that was often hotly contested, and stormily maintained at the cost of much bloodshed. The king was elected from either branch of the great Niall family or clan, the Hy-Nialls of the North, to which Columba belonged, or the Hy-Nialls of the South, and the two branches were continually at war. Into the midst of these discordant elements the law of Christ brought peace and justice, and the Saints of Ireland were the pillars of the law of Christ.
CHAPTER II
THE SCHOOLING OF A SAINT
WHILE Columba was growing into manhood among the mountains of
Tir-Connell, St. Finnian, "Finnian of the Heart Devout" as the old writers love to call him, was founding his great monastic school of
Moville on the northern side of Lough Cuan.
Not on his piety and sanctity alone did the renown of Finnian rest. He had been educated at the famous monastery of Whitehorn, founded by St. Ninian in the fourth century in the British kingdom of Galloway across the sea. St. Ninian was the friend of St. Martin of Tours, and it was from him that he obtained masons to build the Candida Casa or White House, the first stone church erected in Britain. Later, St. Finnian went on pilgrimage to Rome, a difficult and dangerous undertaking in days when ships consisted for the most part of a framework of willow overstretched with ox-hide; and famine, pestilence, wild beasts and barbarians were only a few of the perils that beset travellers by land. There he remained for three months, when he returned to Ireland, bringing with him a precious and priceless treasure.
This was a copy of the sacred Scriptures, translated and corrected by the hand of St. Jerome himself, and formally sanctioned by the Pope as the authentic text. No copy of this first edition of the Vulgate had as yet found its way into Ireland, and to the scholars and scribes of the day it was of untold worth.
The school of Moville was founded in 540, and St. Columba must have been one of its earliest scholars, for he was born in the year 521, and was about twenty years of age when he left Tir-Connell. Here he was ordained deacon, and here also, at his prayer, was worked the first of a long series of miracles that were to continue throughout his life. One festival day, to the consternation of St. Finnian, it was found that there was no wine for the Holy Sacrifice. It was the turn of Columba to draw the water that was to be used in the sacred mysteries, and kneeling at the brink of the well he prayed earnestly to that Lord who had changed water into wine at the marriage feast of Cana to have pity on their distress. His prayer was heard; even as he carried the water to the church the miracle was worked.
"Here, my Father, is wine that God has sent us from heaven," said the young deacon, as he gave the vessel to his master, and Finnian marvelled greatly and gave praise and glory to God.
From Moville, Columba went to the great school of Clonard, there to pursue his studies under another St. Finnian – Finnian the Wise, the "Tutor of the Saints of Erin." Clonard was the most famous school in Ireland at the time, and even bishops and abbots, old in years and experience, did not disdain to come to learn wisdom at the feet of its holy founder. St. Finnian of Clonard had been himself the pupil of three great saints, St. David, St. Gildas, and St. Cadoc, at the College of Llancarvan in Wales. When Columba came to the school of Clonard it numbered, as the old writers tell us, three thousand scholars.
The problem of accommodation was very simple in an Irish school of the sixth century. A few precious manuscripts formed the whole library. The instruction was mostly oral, and given in the green fields round the moat of Clonard. A little hill or eminence formed the professor's chair, and the scholars sat on the slopes about his feet. They built their own little huts of clay and wattles in the surrounding meadows, and took their turn at herding the sheep and grinding in the quern, or handmill, the corn for the daily bread. They prayed and studied, learnt the exquisitely fine transcription that gave to the world the only books that were then to be had, and listened to the interpretation of the Holy Scriptures