ration; thus the dolt of superstition, whose deadened powers of wonder had lain dormant under the dull repetition of holy footprints impressed on common stones, would be stirred perhaps to a species of sluggish devotion by the peculiarity of circumstances attending on the impression of St. Cathald's head in the block of marble, and if this still failed to rouse him, he would surely acknowledge the titillation of such a legend as the following which we may suppose administered by the spiritual empiric in the same way as the village doctor, after all other stimulants have failed to awake a comatose patient, applies a red-hot poker to the back of his neck, or a heated brick to the soles of his feet.

Lucernæ novæ specula
Illustratur Hibernia ;
Coruscat Meldis insula
Tantæ lucis præsentia.

Illa misit Fiacrium,
Hæc missum habet radium,
Habent commune gaudium
Hæc patrem illa filium :

Ad vitam solitariam
Suspirans, exit patriam ;
Faronem Meldis reperit
Cui suum votum aperit :
Hunc loco solitario
Locat in sole proprio ;
Fit Ioanni similis,
Cultor deserti sterilis:

Dum locum signat baculo,
Novo nemus miraculo
Tanquam cæsum dejicitur,
Humo, non fossa, cingitur.

Sic sancti viri meritum Loci dilatat ambitum ; Res innotescit fæminæ, Recusat ut de crimine;

Damnat opus inalefici, Diffamat artein magici ; Præsentandus hic præsidi Lassus insedit lapidi;

Lapis cedit nec cæditur, Petræ sedes insculpitur, O feminæ nequitia Petræ major duritia.

Orat ne loci intret limina Immunis ulla fæmina;

Hibernia to her constellation

Of saints has got a bright accession,
Whose shining light adorns our story
And clothes the banks of Marne with glory.

For 'twas Hibernia hither sent us
The good Fiacre to content us;
Whence she and we rejoice together,
She in a son, we in a father.

To lead a hermit's life intending
He from his home in sorrow wending
To our good bishop did apply him,
Who, studying how to gratify him,
Far in a forest unfrequented,
A hermitage to him presented :
A place for penitence the aptest,
Indeed, a desert for John Baptist.

Here while with's staff he traced his mearing
The woods (some angel's hatchet clearing)
Fell down, as if before the woodman,
And left a garden for the goodman.

While thus on heavenly aid depending
Fiacre was his bounds extending,
A wicked wife who heard the rumor
And thought it all the work of glamour;

Loud raised the hideous cry of witch up
And down upon him brought the bishop :
Meanwhile the saint, such toil oppress'd him,
Sat down upon a stone to rest him.

His sacred seat the stone indented
And left its holy mark imprinted,

Whereby that hussy 'twas evinced on

That woman's heart's more hard than whinstone.

Wherefore he prayed to God to hear him And plague all women that came near him,

A book might be written on the subject of impressions on stones. The phenomena are too numerous to be all the effects of chance or trickery. If it be the fact, as some well-informed persons have supposed, that the stones on which footprints of men and other animals have been found, were, at the time of their receiving the impression, in an unconsolidated state, the theory of the solidification of such masses might acquire a species of chronological accuracy that seems to have been denied to almost every other branch of geology. The traditions of superstition might thus be rendered subservient to the advancement of science. For example, we are told that St. Colman of Kilmacduagh, being in the desert of Burrent without food, King Aedus the 2nd, as he sat down to dinner in his palace of Durluss, took compassion on his destitute condition, and exclaimed, "Would that these dishes before me were rather before Colman, the man of God, in the wilderness, who by his manifold mortifications, and his prolonged fasts hath much better deserved his dinner this day." Whereupon all the plates and dishes took flight from the royal table, and went off through the air in the direction of Burren.

a

The king and his court, impelled by a natural curiosity, take horse and follow. Then might be seen such chase as neither hunting nor hawking has furnished to the annals of field sports. The dishes clashing, the knives and spoons rattling, the stews and roast-meats steaming overhead-the king and his courtiers, with all their gillies and horseboys spurring and crossing themselves, and watering at the mouth as they come galloping over the borders of "the white-stoned slippery Burren" below-the son of Duach hinself, surrounded by his half-famished disciples, on a hillock of bare limestone, in the distance, hailing the prodigy with outstretched hands-all forms a picture such as none but a Rabelais could have conceived, and none but a Hogarth have painted.

But the ardor of the chase receives a sudden check—the viands have now spread themselves before Colman and his hungry brethren, and lest their banquet should be interrupted by uninvited guests, King Aidus and his courtiers are pulled up in mid-career by the interposition of a miraculous agency-" hærent equites, hærent pcdites, canes et equi sistuntur"-horse and foot, dogs and dog-boys take root

in the rock so deeply and firmly, that to this day the foot-prints of men and hounds, and the hoof-tracks of steeds remain visible to all, insomuch that the place has ever since been called Bothar leanta na mias-that is, the road of the hunters of dishes; which name it retains even to the present day.-(Acta S. S. Hib. v. 1, p. 246.)

Now, how trifling soever this story may appear, it must be admitted that it most probably took its rise from natural appearances; and whether the peculiar marks on the rocks of Bothar leanta na mias have arisen from a freak of nature, or from an artifice of man, or from the actual impression of footprints on the rock, when in an unconsolidated state, they are undoubtedly worthy the inquiry and attention of the next scientific traveller in that district. Proceeding with these lives, it is almost impossible to procure any arrangement capable of being adapted to the multiform and multitudinous miracles with which the active imagination of their writers has stuffed them. A few other specimens may conclude the personal class. The fingers of Patrick served occasionally for candles (Evin. c. 75). His teeth were so bright, that when one of them fell into the Callan river, it was discovered by the luminous rays it emitted. The place from that event took its name of Clonfeacle an appellation which it retains to the present day (Jocelyn, c. 78.) The feet of St. Bridget had a clarifying quality, which purified the kennels in which she trod. The head of St. Columba was commonly surmounted by a luminous halo or glory, and he had such a voice that his preaching could be heard eight miles off (Adamn. c. 38, 10,) &c. Among the saints' personals may be reckoned their clothes, which have furnished materials for several legends. Thus, St. Bridget having got wet while tending her sheep, hangs up her dripping garments to dry on a ray of the sun, which she mistakes for a cord stretched across her apartment. The shaft of light supports its burthen like any other drying line, and remains so occupied till after midnight. (Cogitosus, and Ultan, in Triad.) This, how ever, was a feat by no means uncommon among both Irish and continental saints, and is appropriately accounted for by the writer of the life of St. Deicola, who observes, in annotating on a similar passage, that such an event was by no means improbable, inasmuch as a ray of light is nothing

more, "juxta definitionem philosophorum," than a thickening, as it were, of the atmosphere. St. Goar, St. Florentius, and St. Amabilis are recorded to have used luminous clothes-horses of the same description.-(See 6th July, 7th Nov., and 19th Oct. in the general Acta.)

The cowl of Columba deserves mention. It was possessed of expansive powers so great, that when necessary it could be made to cover an acre of ground; as on one occasion in the isle of Arran, it is said by a royal Irish writer to have done. The plot of ground so covered has been called ever since Gort an chochail, in commemoration. (O'Donnell. vit. Columb. c. 106.) His cloak, however, as being the larger garment, possessed this property in a much higher degree, for with it we are told he once covered the whole of Tory island.-(c. 73.) This, however, with many other stories of the same kind, seem rather to belong to the class of fables of suggestion, for they are all evidently derived from the old Byrsic stratagem of the bull hide.

It would be tedious to dwell upon the virtues of holy staffs, sandals, gloves, and other articles of saintly attire. One anecdote, however, is worthy of insertion. Columba having deposited his garden gloves on a stone at the door of the monastery of Louvain, while at refection, the raven which had escaped from Noah's ark pounces upon the right hand glove, and bears it off. This venerable bird, however, restores the spoil, on being threatened by the saint if he did not make restitution, with a failure of his next hatching.—(Adamnan vit. Columb. c. 13.)

To proceed from the immediate personals of the saints to the legends connected with their worldly affairs. The dairy naturally occupies the first place in the attention of a pastoral people; and here we find miraculous agencies at work from the milk-pail to the churn-dash. And yet there seems to have been little need for any utensils of the sort, when all the products of the dairy could be procured by the owners, ex quovis ligno. Thus Patrick makes milk out of stones, and butter and cheese out of snow balls (Trias, pp. 27, 99, 199.) Bridget boasts a milch cow in every fountain, and an unfailing supply of butter in the stalks of nettles. (Trias, pp. 528, 541.) And St. Mocheus possesses the rare secret of making one pound of butter last for four years in constant consumption,

and without diminution.(Acta, i. p. 730.) Elated with their power of procuring the produce of the dairy from so many sources, they seem to scorn the commonplace methods of the milk-maid. Bulls, wolves, stags, and bucephalae are the favoured contributors to the holy pail; and when these run dry, rather than have recourse to secular methods, they milk the clouds of heaven. See Life of Columba, Trias, 354; Life of Fechin, Acta v. i. p. 136; and Lives of Egidius, Ailbus, and Macharius, in the Bollandists.)

After milk, the most important article is meal; but this does not appear to have been obtained with any thing like the same facility. The only interposition of miraculous agency is in the grinding. Thus the mill of St. Fechin of Fore, the mill-dam of which was formed by the saint boring the mountain with his staff, would grind no stolen grain. St. Fintan's mill at Kilmaige () possessed the same discriminating property, and in addition, would grind, if necessary without either wind or water. The mill of St. Luchern, in addition to a like quality, would grind no grain on Sundays. St. Senanus had an angel to turn his mill in Enniscattery. The mill of St. Berachus at Mullin-eland, ground two sorts of grain at once, yet kept the produce separate, &c. &c. (See Colgan, v. i. pp. 132, 12, 532, 345; and Girald Cambr. topog.)

The affairs of the cellar are but cursorily alluded to. The most remarkable legend on this subject is that told by Jonas of the keg of beer which the cellarer of Columbanus left unspiled, in his haste to obey some orders of the saint. The vessel not only miraculously retained the running liquor, but, keeping full, was found on the cellarer's return to be increased to double its former capacity-præclarum obedientiæ miraculum.—(Jonas, c. 15.)

A book of miraculous Georgics might be written on their agricultural pursuits. Columba sows after midsummer, and reaps in August. Columbanus's ridge remains unharmed, while all the other corn in the field is lodged by a thunder-shower; the sickle of Brigid obtains a similar favor. Columbanus has a wonderful pea, which needs not to be sown, but annually reproduces itself from the hard rock. The same saint fills his barn with corn by the mere force of prayer, &c. &c. (See Colgan and Messingham).

The travelling equipage of these

St.

powerful individuals was, at might be expected, equally extraordinary. Maidoc's chariot would run where the most active footman could not walk. St. Aed's ran equally well with whole or broken wheels (Colgan v. i. p. 209, 309.) St. Columba's, in like manner, with or without linchpins; as also the chariot of one Coulaid, blessed by St. Brigid; and Patrick had four chariots sent him out of heaven, which may be supposed to have possessed still more excellent qualities (Triad. pp. 632, 532, 101.) But the journeys of the saints by water were much more extraordinary. A leaf serves St. Hya to navigate on as far as the coast of Cornwall (Messingham, Lives of the 782 Irish martyrs.) St. Fechin crosses Loch Coutra in Galway on a stone (Colgan, v. i. p. 105.) The stone on which St. Maidoc was born serves afterwards for a ferry-boat (do. p. 225.) And Brigid sends a house to St. Senanus down the Shannon in an ozier basket, and receives a present of cheese and salt by the same conveyance in return. (Triad. p. 536.)

Such were their lives; and death was but the beginning of a new exercise of supernatural power in their relicts. The revenues of many monasteries arose in great part from offerings inade at shrines in which these were kept. To get possession of the body of a saint after death, was on this account (independently of the natural wish for such memorials) an object of much greater importance to a fraternity, than to have the charge of his maintenance, and the experience of his discipline while alive. The legends illustrative of this obser vation are among the most interesting portions of the Acta. The following account of the death of Abban, which is taken nearly literally from his life in Colgan, would furnish the grounds of a striking romance.

The provost of Monastereven, to which St. Abban had retired in his old days, was a Meath man, who had a strong affection for his native town of Killabban, founded by this saint in the same county. Abban being forewarned of the day and hour of his own death, had confided the prediction to this friend alone, concealing news so disagreeable (as he thought) from the rest of the brethren. Now, when the provost began to consider what an advantage it would be to his native town to have the relics of so holy a man, he conceived in his own mind a project for making away with the body as soon

66

as the breath should be out of it. Το this end he dispatched messengers to his people, desiring them to raise the men of North Leinster, and come to meet him on a certain day by the road which his messengers would point out. The Meath men joyfully perform his commands; and the provost, on the appointed night, sets about his preparations by yoking two oxen which were very monks for docility and tameness," to a waggon which he had in readiness in the court-yard. Then ordering all the brethren to retire to rest, with the exception of some of his own immediate friends, to whom he divulged his purpose, they watched by the saint till the angels came according to prediction, and bore his spirit away from earth. Incontinently they place the body on the waggon, and the bullocks, conscious of their burthen, set forth, an army of exulting angels attending their footsteps, and light from heaven guiding them in their pious journey till morning. But before it was yet day the brethren were up in Monasterevan, and searching in vain through dormitory and hall for the precious invalid. But, dead or alive, the blessed body was gone, the provost's bed had not been slept in, and all the other Killabban men of the monastery were missing. The truth burst on them like a flash of lightning. They flew to their bell-ropes, and jangled forth such peal of alarm as shortly raised the country, and brought the men of Kildare by hundreds to their gates. Here they found the good brotherhood weeping, lamenting, rending their garments, and deploring in piteous accents the loss of so much divine favour and secular good as they had confidently reckoned on from the possession of the stolen saint. The indignation of the hearers knew no bounds: they vowed to get back their holy man, or die in the pious quarrel; and ere the sun was well up, a goodly clump of spears, well flanked by croziers and crucifixes, was scouring the borders of Kildare, hot upon the track of the fugitives. The pious thieves are overtaken on the borders of Meath. Negociation is useless. "He died among us," cries the one party :

66

"would you rob us of the clay that parted with its last breath under our very roof?" He was born, and he lived among us," reply the others; "we will die sooner than ye shall touch a limb of our townsman.' It is clearly no place for men of peace: the monks draw to one side, and reluctantly give the word to charge-when, lo! the waggon, with its precious burthen, is miraculously divided, so that no man can distinguish the one appearance from the other. One yoke of bullocks take their way towards Killabban, fol. lowed by the satisfied Meathmen; the other return towards Monasterevan, accompanied by the exulting army of Kildare. Thus each party leaves the field contented and integris cutibus. But alas for the fallacy of human hopes! no sooner did the phantom bullocks, which had lured away the rescuers from the pursuit of the true relicts, reach a ford in a certain river on their return, than they vanished from before their eyes, together with the semblance of a body which they seemed to carry, and left the brotherhood of Monasterevan to return to the dishonored banks of the Barrow empty and disappointed alike of profit and revenge. To determine on what principle the preference was given in this instance to the thieves, would be a good exercise for the ingenuity of a casuist. but to return to the bullocks. The ford in which they vanished retained the name of Ath dain chielt, or the ford of the hiding steers, down to the time of the writer, who lived, however, very shortly after (Vit. Abbani, c. 40, 41, 42, apud Colgan.) No doubt we are indebted to the ingenuity of the monks of Killabban (although the place itself is now unknown, except perhaps to Mr. O'Donovan, who is a greater Irish topographer than Colgan himself,) for many of the wondrous tales which afterwards must have rendered these relicts a cheap purchase even at the risk of bloodshed; and doubtless many an ounce of gold has been hung up at the shrine in Meath, which, but for the pious fraud of the provost of Monasterevan, would have adorned the altars of the latter town.*

Instances of similar contentions for