In 584 an event happened which appears to have opened up an additional field for Columba’s missionary labour. This was the death of his steady friend and supporter King Brude, who died in that year.^[271] Adamnan seems to be at a loss to account for death having been allowed to overtake King Brude while the powerful intercession of the great saint might have been exercised on his behalf, and attributes it to the disappearance of a mysterious crystal which Columba had blessed, and which, when dipped in water, was believed to impart to it a curative virtue. It was preserved among the king’s treasures, but could not be found, though sought for in the place where it was kept on the day when King Brude died in his palace near the river Ness.^[272] His successor was Gartnaidh, son of Domelch, who belonged to the nation of the southern Picts, and appears to have had his royal seat at Abernethy, on the southern bank of the Tay, near its junction with the river Earn. The only fact recorded of his reign is that he built the church of Abernethy two hundred and twenty-five years and eleven months before the church of Dunkeld was built by King Constantin.^[273] The statement is so specific, that it seems to embody a fragment of real history contained in some early chronicle, and places the date of the foundation of Abernethy during the first ten years of Gartnaidh’s reign. The nation of the southern Picts had, as we have seen, been converted early in the previous century by Ninian; and the Pictish Chronicle attributes the foundation of the church of Abernethy to an early King Nectan, who reigned from 457 to 481; but the Christianity established among them had no permanence, and they gradually fell off, till hardly even the semblance of a Christian church remained. What King Gartnaidh did, therefore, was to found a new monastic church where the earlier church had been, which, like it, was dedicated to St. Bridget of Kildare, and this not only took place during Columba’s life, but is, in the ancient tract called the Amra Columcille, directly attributed to his preaching, for in alluding to his death it contains this line: ‘For the teacher is not, who used to teach the tuatha, or tribes, of Toi;’ and the gloss upon it is, ‘The teacher who used to teach the tribes who were around Tai. It is the name of a river in Alban;’ and again, ‘He subdued the mouths of the fierce who were at Toi with the will of the king,’ which is thus glossed: ‘He subdued the mouths of the fierce with the Ardrig, or supreme king of Toi; though it was what they wished—to say evil, so it is a blessing they used to make, ut fuit Balam.’^[274] Gartnaidh is here called the supreme king of Toi, or of the Tay, and the people whom Columba taught, the tribes about the Tay, which leaves little doubt that the church of Abernethy on the banks of the Tay, at this time the chief seat of government, had been refounded in connection with his mission to the southern Picts. In this work Columba had also the assistance of his friend Cainnech, whose Pictish descent would render his aid more effective. Cainnech appears to have founded a monastery in the east end of the province of Fife, not far from where the river Eden pours its waters into the German Ocean at a place called Rig-Monadh, or the royal mount, which afterwards became celebrated as the site on which the church of St. Andrews was founded, and as giving to that church its Gaelic name of Kilrimont. In the notice of Cainnech on 11th October in the Martyrology of Angus the Culdee, the following gloss is added: ‘And Achadh-bo is his principal church, and he has a Recles, or monastery, at Cill Rig-monaig in Alban. Once upon a time, when Cainnech went to visit Finnin, he asked him for a place of residence. I see no place here now, said Finnin, for others have taken all the places up before thee. May there be a desert place there, said Cainnech, that is, in Alban;’^[275] and this seems to be alluded to in the Life of Cainnech when it is said, ‘Afterwards the Irish saints sent messengers to Cainnech, having learnt that he was living as a hermit in Britain; and Cainnech was then brought from his hermitage against his will.’^[276] The churches dedicated to Moluog, to Drostan, to Machut the pupil of Brendan, and to Cathan, and the church founded at Dunblane by Blaan of Cinngaradh, the son of King Aidan and nephew of Cathan,^[277] show the spread of the Columban Church in the territory of the southern Picts.

In the latter years of his life we find Columba residing for a few months in the midland part of Ireland, and visiting the brethren who dwelt in the celebrated monastery of Clonmacnois. His reception there shows the estimation in which he was now held. ‘As soon as it was known that he was near, all flocked from their little grange farms near the monastery, and, along with those who were within it, ranged themselves with enthusiasm under the Abbot Alither; then, advancing beyond the enclosure of the monastery, they went out as one man to meet Columba, as if he were an angel of the Lord; humbly bowing down, with their faces to the ground, in his presence, they kissed him most reverently, and, singing hymns of praise as they went, they conducted him with all honour to the church. Over the saint, as he walked, a canopy made of wood was supported by four men walking by his side, lest the holy abbot Columba should be troubled by the crowd of brethren pressing upon him.’^[278] In 593 Columba completed thirty years of his missionary work in Britain, and this seems to have given him a foreboding of his coming end;^[279] but he survived four years longer, and then his thirty-four years’ pilgrimage in Britain was brought to its close with his life.

The touching narrative which both his biographers, Cummene and Adamnan, give of his last days has been often quoted; but it presents such a charming picture of what his life in the island was, that it may well be repeated here. In the year 597 Columba had reached his seventy-seventh year, and towards the end of May in that year, says Cummene, the man of God, worn with age and carried in a car, goes to visit the working brethren, who were, adds Adamnan, then at work on the western side of the island, and addresses them, saying, ‘During the Paschal solemnities in the month of April just past I could have desired to depart to Christ, but lest a joyous festival should be turned for you into mourning my departure has been deferred,’ Hearing these words, the brethren, or, as Adamnan calls them, the beloved monks, were greatly afflicted. The man of God, however, as he sat in his car, turned his face towards the east and blessed the island with its insular inhabitants. After the words of blessing, the saint was carried back to his monastery. On Sunday the second of June we find him celebrating the solemn offices of the eucharist, when, as his eyes were raised to heaven, the brethren observed a sudden expression of rapture on his face, which he explained to them was caused by his seeming to see an angel of the Lord looking down upon them within the church and blessing it, and who, he believed, had been sent on account of the death of some one dear to God, or, as Adamnan expresses it, ‘to demand a deposit dear to God, by which he understood was meant his own soul, as a deposit intrusted to him by God.’

Columba seems to have had a presentiment that the following Saturday would be his last day on earth, for, having called his attendant Diormet, he solemnly addressed him—‘This day is called in the sacred Scriptures the Sabbath, a day of rest; and truly to me this day will be a day of rest, for it is the last of my life, and in it I shall enter into my rest after the fatigues of my labours; and this night preceding Sunday I shall go the way of my fathers, for Christ already calls me, and thus it is revealed to me.’ These words saddened his attendant, but the father consoled him. Such is Cummene’s short narrative. Adamnan, who amplifies it, states that Columba had gone with his attendant Diormet to bless the nearest barn, which was probably situated close to the mill and not far from the present ruins. When the saint entered it, he blessed it and two heaps of winnowed corn that were in it, and gave thanks in these words, saying, ‘I heartily congratulate my beloved monks that this year also, if I am obliged to depart from you, you will have a sufficient supply for the year.’ According to Adamnan, it was in answer to a remark which this called forth from his attendant that he made the revelation to him, which he made him promise on his bended knees that he would not reveal to any one before his death. Adamnan then introduces after it the incident that Columba, in going back to the monastery from the barn, rested half-way at a place where a cross which was afterwards erected, and was standing to his day fixed into a millstone, might be observed at the side of the road; and there came to him a white pack-horse, the same that used, as a willing servant, to carry the milk vessels from the cowshed to the monastery. It came up to the saint, and, strange to say, laid its head on his bosom and began to utter plaintive cries and, like a human being, to shed copious tears on the saint’s bosom, foaming and greatly wailing. The attendant, seeing this, began to drive the weeping mourner away; but the saint forbade him, saying, ‘Let it alone, as it is so fond of me—let it pour out its bitter grief into my bosom. Lo! thou, as thou art a man and hast a rational soul, canst know nothing of my departure hence, except what I myself have just told you, but to this brute beast devoid of reason the Creator himself hath evidently in some way made it known that its master is going to leave it;’ and saying this the saint blessed the work-horse, which turned away from him in sadness.

According to both Cummene and Adamnan, he then went out, and, ascending the hillock which overhangs the monastery,^[280] he stood for some little time on its summit, and, uplifting his hands, he blessed his monastery; and, looking at its present position and future prospects, he uttered a prophecy, the terms of which Adamnan alone adds: ‘Small and mean though this place is, yet it shall be held in great and unusual honour, not only by the kings of the Scots with their people, but also by the rulers of foreign and barbarous nations and by their subjects; the saints also of other churches even shall regard it with no common reverence.’ After this, both biographers tell us, descending from the hill and returning to the monastery, he sat in his cell and transcribed the Psalter. When he came to that verse of the thirty-third Psalm (the thirty-fourth of our version) where it is written, ‘They that seek the Lord shall want no manner of thing that is good.’—‘Here,’ he said, ‘I think I can write no more: let Baithen write what follows.’ Having thus written the verse at the end of the page, he entered the holy church in order to celebrate the nocturnal vigils of the Lord’s Day; and, as soon as they were over, he returned to his cell and spent the rest of the night on his bed, where he had for his couch the bare ground, or, as Adamnan says, a bare flag, and for his pillow a stone. While reclining there, he commended his last words to his sons, or, as Adamnan says, to the brethren. ‘Have peace always and unfeigned charity among yourselves. The Lord, the Comforter of the good, will be your helper; and I, abiding with Him, will intercede for you that He may provide for you good things both temporal and eternal.’ Having said these words, St. Columba became silent. Then, as soon as the bell rang at midnight, rising hastily, he went to the church, and, running more quickly than the rest, he entered alone and knelt down in prayer beside the altar. Diormet, his attendant, however, following more slowly, saw from a distance the whole interior of the church filled at the same moment with a heavenly light; but, when he drew near to the door, the same light, which had also been seen by some of the brethren, quickly disappeared. Diormet, however, entering the church, cried out in a mournful voice, ‘Where art thou, father?’ and, feeling his way in the darkness, the lights not having yet been brought in by the brethren, he found the saint lying before the altar; and raising him up a little, and sitting down beside him, he laid his holy head on his bosom. Meantime the rest of the brethren ran in, and, beholding their father dying, whom living they so loved, they burst into lamentations. The saint, however, his soul having not yet departed, opened wide his eyes and looked around him from side to side as if seeing the holy angels coming to meet him. Diormet then, raising his right hand, urged him to bless the brethren; but the holy father himself moved his hand at the same time as well as he was able, and, having thus signified to them his holy benediction, he immediately breathed his last. His face still remained ruddy and brightened in a wonderful way from the heavenly vision: so that he had the appearance not so much of one dead as of one that sleepeth.’^[281]

‘In the meantime,’ as both biographers inform us, ‘after the departure of his saintly soul, the matin hymns being finished, his sacred body was carried, the brethren chanting psalms, from the church to his cell, where his obsequies were celebrated with all due honour for three days and as many nights; and when these praises of God were finished, his holy body, wrapped in fine clean linen cloths’cloths’ and, Adamnan adds, placed in a coffin, or tomb,^[282] prepared for it, was buried with all due veneration. The stone which St. Columba had used as a pillow was placed, as a kind of monument, at his grave, where it still stood in Adamnan’s day. His obsequies, which lasted three days and nights, were confined to the inhabitants of the island alone; for there arose a storm of wind without rain, which blew so violently during the whole time that no one could cross the sound in his boat;^[283] but immediately after the interment the wind ceased and the storm was quelled, so that the whole sea became calm.

Columba died on Sunday morning the 9th of June in the year 597,^[284] and left behind him an imperishable memory in the affections and veneration of the people whom he first brought over to the Christian faith. It is unfortunately the fate of all such men who stand out prominently from among their fellows and put their stamp upon the age in which they lived, that, as the true character of their sayings and doings fades from men’s minds, they become more and more the subject of spurious traditions, and the popular mind invests them with attributes to which they have no claim. When these loose popular traditions and conceptions are collected and become imbedded in a systematic biography, the evil becomes irreparable, and it is no longer possible to separate in popular estimation the true from the spurious. This has been peculiarly the case with Columba, and has led to a very false estimate of his character. It has been thus drawn by a great writer, in language at least of much eloquence:—‘He was vindictive, passionate, bold, a man of strife, born a soldier rather than a monk, and known, praised and blamed as a soldier—so that even in his lifetime he was invoked in fight; and continued a soldier, insulanus miles, even upon the island rock from which he rushed forth to preach, convert, enlighten, reconcile and reprimand both princes and nations, men and women, laymen and clerks. He was at the same time full of contradictions and contrasts—at once tender and irritable, rude and courteous, ironical and compassionate, caressing and imperious, grateful and revengeful—led by pity as well as by wrath, ever moved by generous passions, and among all passions fired to the very end of his life by two which his countrymen understand the best, the love of poetry and the love of country. Little inclined to melancholy when he had once surmounted the great sorrow of his life, which was his exile; little disposed, save towards the end, to contemplation or solitude, but trained by prayer and austerities to triumphs of evangelical exposition; despising rest, untiring in mental and manual toil, born for eloquence, and gifted with a voice so penetrating and sonorous that it was thought of afterwards as one of the most miraculous gifts that he had received of God; frank and loyal, original and powerful in his words as in his actions—in cloister and mission and parliament, on land and on sea, in Ireland as in Scotland, always swayed by the love of God and of his neighbour, whom it was his will and pleasure to serve with an impassioned uprightness. Such was Columba.’^[285] Or rather, such is the Columba of popular tradition, described in the beautiful and forcible language of his most eloquent biographer; but much of this character is based upon very questionable statements, and, as the facts which appear to sanction it do not stand the test of critical examination, so the harder features of his character disappear in the earlier estimates of it. Adamnan says of him, ‘From his boyhood he had been brought up in Christian training, in the study of wisdom, and by the grace of God had so preserved the integrity of his body and the purity of his soul, that, though dwelling on earth, he appeared to live like the saints in heaven. For he was angelic in appearance, graceful in speech, holy in work, with talents of the highest order and consummate prudence; he lived during thirty-four years an island soldier. He never could spend the space even of one hour without study, or prayer, or writing, or some other holy occupation. So incessantly was he engaged night and day in the unwearied exercise of fasting and watching, that the burden of each of these austerities would seem beyond the power of all human endurance. And still, in all these, he was beloved by all; for a holy joy ever beaming on his face revealed the joy and gladness with which the Holy Spirit filled his inmost soul.’^[286]

Dallan Forgaill, in the ancient tract called the Amra Choluimchille, speaks of him in the same strain. He describes his people mourning him who was ‘their souls’ light, their learned one—their chief from right—who was God’s messenger—who dispelled fears from them—who used to explain the truth of words—a harp without a base chord;—a perfect sage who believed Christ—he was learned, he was chaste—he was charitable—he was an abounding benefit of guests—he was eager—he was noble—he was gentle—he was the physician of the heart of every sage—he was to persons inscrutable—he was a shelter to the naked—he was a consolation to the poor;—there went not from the world one who was more continual for the remembrance of the cross.’^[287] There is no trace here of those darker features of vindictiveness, love of fighting, and the remorse caused by its indulgence; nor do the events of his life, as we find them rather hinted at than narrated, bear out such an estimate of it. He was evidently a man of great force of character and determined zeal in effecting his purpose—one of those master-minds which influence and sway others by the mere force of contact; but he could not have been the object of such tender love and implicit devotion from all who came under the sphere of his influence, if the softer and more amiable features pictured in these earlier descriptions of him had not predominated in his character.

Three peculiarities he had, which led afterwards to a belief in his miraculous powers. One was his sonorous voice. Dallan Forgaill tells us

Adamnan includes this among his miraculous gifts, and adds that to those who were with him in the church his voice did not seem louder than that of others; and yet, at the same time, persons more than a mile away heard it so distinctly that they could mark each syllable of the verses he was singing, for his voice sounded the same whether far or near! He gives us another instance of it. Columba was chanting the evening hymns with a few of his brethren, as usual, near King Brude’s fortress, and outside the king’s fortifications, when some ‘Magi,’ coming near to them, did all they could to prevent God’s praises being sung in the midst of a pagan nation. On seeing this, the saint began to sing the 44th Psalm; and, at the same moment, so wonderfully loud, like pealing thunder, did his voice become, that king and people were struck with terror and amazement.^[289] Another trait, which was ascribed to prophetic power, was his remarkable observation of natural objects and skill in interpreting the signs of the weather in these western regions. Dallan Forgaill says: ‘Seasons and storms he perceived, that is, he used to understand when calm and storm would come—he harmonised the moon’s cocircle in regard to course—he perceived its race with the branching sun—and sea course, that is, he was skilful in the course of the sea—he would count the stars of heaven.’^[290] When Adamnan tells us that Baithene and Columban asked him to obtain from the Lord a favourable wind on the next day, though they were to sail in different directions, and how he promised a south wind to Baithene next morning till he reached Tiree, and told Columban to set out for Ireland at the third hour of the same day, ‘for the Lord will soon change the wind to the north,’^[291] it required no more than great skill in interpreting natural signs to foretell a south wind in the morning and the return breeze three hours after. The third quality was a remarkable sagacity in forecasting probable events, and a keen insight into character and motives. How tales handed down of the exercise of such qualities should by degrees come to be held as proofs of miraculous and prophetic power, it is not difficult to understand.

After Columba’s death, the monastery of Iona appears to have been the acknowledged head of all the monasteries and churches which his mission had established in Scotland, as well as of those previously founded by him in Ireland. To use the words of Bede, ‘This monastery for a long time held the pre-eminence over most of those of the northern Scots, and all those of the Picts, and had the direction of their people,’^[292] a position to which it was entitled, as the mother church, from its possession of the body of the patron saint.^[293] Of the subsequent abbots of Iona who succeeded Columba in this position of pre-eminency, Bede tells us that, ‘whatever kind of person he was himself, this we know of him for certain, that he left successors distinguished for their great charity, divine love and strict attention to their rules of discipline; following, indeed, uncertain cycles in their computation of the great festival (of Easter), because, far away as they were out of the world, no one had supplied them with the synodal decrees relating to the Paschal observance; yet withal diligently observing such works of piety and charity as they could find in the Prophetic, Evangelic and Apostolic writings.’^[294]

According to the law which regulated the succession to the abbacy in these Irish monasteries, it fell to the tribe of the patron saint to provide a successor; and Baithene, the cousin and confidential friend and associate of Columba, and superior of his monastery of Maigh Lunge in Tiree, who was also of the northern Hy Neill, and a descendant of Conall Gulban, became his successor, ‘for,’ says the Martyrology of Donegal, ‘it was from the men of Erin the abbot of I was chosen, and he was most frequently chosen from the men of Cinel Conaill.’ He appears to have been designated by Columba himself as his successor, and to have been at once acknowledged by the other Columban monasteries; for Adamnan tells us that Finten, the son of Tailchen, had resolved to leave Ireland and go to Columba in Iona. ‘Burning with that desire,’ says Adamnan, ‘he went to an old friend, the most prudent and venerable cleric in his country, who was called in the Scotic tongue Columb Crag, to get some sound advice from him. When he had laid open his mind to him, he received the following answer: “As“As thy devout wish is, I feel, inspired by God, who can presume to say that thou shouldst not cross the sea to Saint Columba?” At the same moment two monks of Columba happened to arrive; and when they remarked about their journey, they replied, “We have lately come across from Britain, and to-day we have come from Daire Calgaich,” or Derry. “Is he well,” says Columb Crag, “your holy father Columba?” Then they burst into tears, and answered, with great sorrow, “Our patron is indeed well, for a few days ago he departed to Christ.” Hearing this, Finten and Columb and all who were there present fell on their faces on the ground and wept bitterly. Finten then asked, “Whom did he leave as his successor?” “Baithene, his disciple,” they replied. And we all cried out, “It is meet and right.” Columb said to Finten, “What wilt thou do now, Finten?” He answered, “With God’s permission, I will sail over to Baithene, that wise and holy man; and if he receive me, I will take him as my abbot.”’^[295] Baithene enjoyed the abbacy, however, for two years only, and died in the year 599, on the same day of the year as Saint Columba, on which day his festival was likewise held.^[296]

His successor was Laisren, son of Feradhach, who was also a descendant of Conall Gulban, and had been superior of Durrow during Columba’s life. It was in his time that the discussion commenced between the Roman and the Irish Church regarding the proper time for keeping Easter. The mission of Columbanus to Gaul in the year 590, and that of Augustine to Britain in 597, had now brought the Roman Church in contact with the British and Irish Churches, and this—the most salient point of difference between them—became at once the subject of a contest for the enforcement of uniformity on the one part, and the maintenance of their ancient customs, to which the Celtic mind clings with peculiar tenacity, on the other. Augustine, on his death in 604, was succeeded by one of his companions, named Laurentius; and this prelate, Bede tells us, ‘did not only attend to the charge of the new church that was gathered from the English people, but also regarded with pastoral solicitude the old natives of Britain, and likewise the people of the Scots who inhabit the island of Ireland adjacent to Britain. For observing that the practice and sentiments of the Scots in their own country, and also those of the Britons in Britain itself, were contrary to church order in many things, particularly because they used not to celebrate the solemnity of Easter at the proper time, but supposed, as we have shown above, that the day to be observed in commemoration of the Lord’s resurrection was included in the week from the fourteenth to the twentieth day of the moon, he, in conjunction with his fellow-bishops, wrote them a letter of exhortation, beseeching and entreating them to keep the bond of peace and Catholic observances with that church of Christ which is extended all over the world. The beginning of his letter is here given: “To“To our lords and most dear brethren the bishops or abbots throughout all Scotia (or Ireland), Laurentius, Mellitus and Justus, bishops, the servants of the servants of God. When the Apostolic See, according to her practice in all the world, stationed us in these western parts to preach to the pagan nations here, and so it came to pass that we entered into this island which is called Britain, before we were acquainted with it, supposing that they walked in the ways of the universal church, we felt a very high respect for the Britons as well as the Scots, from our regard to their sanctity of character; but when we came to know the Britons, we supposed the Scots must be superior to them. However, we have learned from Bishop Daganus coming into this island and Abbot Columbanus coming into Gaul, that the Scots differ not at all from the Britons in their habits. For Bishop Daganus, when he came to us, would not take meat with us, no, not so much as in the same lodging where we were eating.”’eating.”’^[297] This letter does not appear to have had any effect; but it shows the spirit in which the two churches came into contact with each other.

Laisren died in the following year.^[298] His successor was Fergna Brit, or the Briton. From what he derived this epithet it is impossible to say, for certain it is that he also was of the tribe of the patron saint and a descendant of Conall Gulban. He had apparently been a pupil in the monastery of Iona during Columba’s life, and Adamnan mentions him as Virgnous—the Latin form of Fergna—‘a youth of good disposition, and afterwards made by God superior of this church in which I, though unworthy, now serve.’^[299] In his time we again hear of two of the three great island monasteries which are specially mentioned in the Irish Annals. In 611 Tighernac records the death of Neman, bishop of Lismore; and in 617 of Donnan of Egg having been burnt on the fifteenth day before the kalends of May, or 17th April, with his martyr clerics.^[300] The tale of their martyrdom is thus told in the gloss upon the Martyrology of Angus the Culdee already quoted. It says, ‘Donnan then went with his muintir, or monastic family, to the Gallgaedalu, or Western Isles, and they took up their abode there, in a place where the sheep of the queen of the country were kept. This was told to the queen. Let them all be killed, said she. That would not be a religious act, said her people. But they were murderously assailed. At this time the cleric was at mass. Let us have respite till mass is ended, said Donnan. Thou shalt have it, said they. And when it was over, they were slain every one of them,’ The Calendar of Marian Gorman has the following commemoration: ‘Donnan the great with his monks. Fifty-two were his congregation. There came pirates of the sea to the island in which they were, and slew them all. Eig is the name of that island.’^[301] The island of Egg is the most easterly of a group of islands lying between the promontory of Ardnamurchan and the island of Skye. It faces a wild and rugged district on the mainland, extending from Ardnamurchan to Glenelg, still known by the name of the Garbhcriochan, or rough bounds. The Christian religion appears to have as yet hardly penetrated the western districts north of Ardnamurchan, as is indicated by the dedications of their churches. The island of Egg was probably at this time connected with this district as a pasture island reserved for their flocks of sheep; and, while the people would seem to have been favourable to the little Christian colony established in the island by Donnan, the rule had passed into the hands of a queen who was still pagan and employed pirates to destroy them, who burnt the wooden church in which they were celebrating the eucharist, and the whole community accordingly perished. We have also at this time a slight trace of the Columban Church in the eastern districts of the northern Picts in the Irish Annals, which record in 616 the death of Tolorggain or Talarican, who is associated in the Scotch Calendars with the Church of Fordyce on the south shore of the Moray Firth, and who gives his name to the great district of Cilltalargyn, or Kiltarlity, in the district of the Aird, extending from the river Ness to the bounds of Ross-shire.^[302]

The only other event which took place while Fergna Brit was abbot was one which was destined to lead to a great extension of the Columban Church. In the year 617 there arrived at Iona some young and noble Angles of Bernicia. They were the sons of Aidilfrid, king of Bernicia, who, while still pagan, as were his people, had been slain by Aeduin, king of Deira. Bede tells us that his sons, with many of the youth of the nobility, took refuge among the Scots or Picts, where they lived in banishment during the whole of Aeduin’s reign, ‘and,’ says Bede, ‘were there catechised according to the doctrine of the Scots, and regenerated by the grace of baptism.’^[303] Many of them were no doubt sent to the monastery of Iona to receive this catechetical instruction, and among them was certainly Osuald, the second son of Aidilfrid, who was at that time about thirteen years old, and who, we are expressly told, with his followers had, ‘when in banishment, received the sacraments of baptism among the seniors of the Scots,’ by whom those of the monastery of Iona are meant. He appears to have remained there during the rest of Fergna’s tenure of the abbacy, and the first ten years of that of his successor.

Fergna died in the year 623,^[304] and was succeeded by Segine, son of Fiachna and nephew of Laisren the third abbot, who of course also belonged to the tribe of the patron saint, the race of Conall Gulban. The presidency of Segine over the family of Iona was chiefly remarkable for two great events in two opposite directions. One was the extension of the Columban Church into the Anglic kingdom of Northumbria; the other, that a large section of the Irish Church conformed to Rome: and both events appear to have taken place at the same time.

At the time that the sons of Aidilfrid fled from the face of King Aeduin, the latter and his people were still pagans; but the king having married the daughter of the Christian king of Kent, in the eleventh year of his reign he was converted to Christianity by the preaching of Paulinus, who had been ordained bishop by Archbishop Justus of Canterbury, and accompanied the queen to York. Aeduin was baptized at York on Easter Sunday in the year 627, ‘in the church of Saint Peter the apostle, which he himself had there built of timber whilst he was being catechised and instructed in order to receive baptism. In that city also he appointed the see for the bishopric of his instructor and bishop, Paulinus.’^[305] The people of the two provinces of Bernicia and Deira followed their king, and ostensibly embraced Christianity. As soon as the news reached Rome that the nation of the Northumbrians with their king had been, by the preaching of Paulinus, converted to the faith of Christ, Honorius I., who was at that time Pope, sent the ‘pallium’ to Paulinus, and at the same time wrote letters of exhortation to King Aeduin, exhorting him with fatherly charity that his people should persist in and profess the faith of truth which they had received.^[306] When this letter reached York, King Aeduin had been slain, the heathen Penda of Mercia and the apostate Caedwalla of Wales were in possession of the country, the infant Christian Church was trampled under foot, and Paulinus, with his ‘pallium,’ had fled back to Kent. After a year, in which the land had been given up to paganism, Osuald, who was now thirty years old, and to whom the right to the Anglic throne had opened by the death of his brother Ainfrid, invaded Northumbria, and won his kingdom by the battle of the Heavenly Field, at Denisburn, near Hexham. His first object was to restore the Christian Church which had been swept away; and for this purpose he naturally turned to the church where he himself had been trained in the Christian faith. As Bede tells us, ‘He sent to the seniors of the Scots, among whom himself and his fellow-soldiers, when in banishment, had received the sacrament of baptism, desiring they would send him a bishop, by whose instructions and ministry the Anglic nation which he governed might be taught the advantages of faith in the Lord and receive its sacraments. Nor were they slow in granting his request, but sent him Bishop Aidan, a man of singular meekness, piety and moderation.’^[307] Bede further tells us that ‘it is reported that when King Osuald had asked a bishop of the province of the Scots to minister the word of faith to him and his nation, there was first sent another man of more austere disposition, who, after preaching for some time to the nation of the Angles and meeting with no success, and being disregarded by the Anglic people, returned home, and in an assembly of the seniors reported that he had not been able to do any good in instructing that nation he had been sent to preach to, because they were untameable men, and of a stubborn and barbarous disposition. They, as is testified, in a great council seriously debated what was to be done, being desirous of the good of the nation in the matter which it demanded, and grieving that they had not received the preacher sent to them. Then said Aidan, who was also present in the council, to the priest then spoken of, “I am of opinion, brother, that you were more severe to your unlearned hearers than you ought to have been, and did not at first, conformably to the apostolic discipline, give them the milk of more gentle doctrine, till, being by degrees nourished with the Word of God, they should be capable of greater perfection, and be able to practise God’s sublimer precepts.” Having heard these words, all who sat with him, turning on him their eyes, began diligently to weigh what he had said, and presently concluded that he deserved to be made a bishop, and ought to be sent to instruct the unbelievers and unlearned, since he was found to be endowed with the grace of a singular discretion, which is the mother of other virtues; and accordingly, being ordained, they sent him to preach.’^[308] Bede adds that ‘most of those that had come to preach were monks, and that Bishop Aidan was himself a monk of the island called Hii, whose monastery for a long time held the pre-eminence over almost all those of the northern Scots, and all those of the Picts;’ and again, ‘that from the aforesaid island, and from this college of monks, was Aidan sent to instruct the province of the Angles in Christ, having received the episcopal grade. At this time Segine, abbot and priest, presided over that monastery.’ There can therefore be little doubt that the great council was held in Iona under the presidency of Abbot Segine; and it would almost appear that he himself had gone personally to Northumbria on the failure of the first mission, as Adamnan refers to a conversation which he says Abbot Failbe solemnly declared that he himself heard between King Osuald and Abbot Segine after the battle of the Heavenly Field had been fought.^[309]

As the first missionary sent had been a priest, and the result of Aidan’s interposition was that all declared him worthy of the episcopate, there can be little doubt that, as we have already had occasion to show, the distinction of the orders and the superiority of the episcopal grade were fully recognised. By the custom of the Scottish Church, only one bishop was necessary for the consecration of another bishop. That there were bishops in the Columban Church we know, for Bede tells us that ‘all the province, and even the bishops, were subject to the abbot of Iona;’ and, as we have seen, two of the monasteries subject to Iona—Lismore and Cinngaradh, or Kingarth—had episcopal heads. There may have been an especial reason why it should be better that Aidan should have episcopal orders, which did not exist in the case of the Columban monasteries; for, as the head of a remote church, he might have to ordain priests from among his Anglic converts; while the Columban Church had Ireland at its back as a great storehouse of clerics, both bishops and priests. When, therefore, it is said that he received the episcopal grade, no doubt a bishop had been called in to consecrate him. But though he was thus enabled to exercise episcopal functions, in other respects the organisation of the church thus introduced into Northumbria, both with respect to jurisdiction and to its monastic character, was the same as that of the Columban Church at home; for, instead of fixing his episcopal seat at York, he followed the custom of the monastic church by selecting a small island near the Northumbrian coast, bearing the Celtic name of Inis Metcaud,^[310] but known to the Angles as Lindisfarne, as the site of his monastery, which he was to rule as episcopal abbot. Bede tells us that, ‘on the arrival of the bishop, the king appointed him his episcopal see in the isle of Lindisfarne, as he himself desired; which place, as the tide flows and ebbs, twice a day is enclosed by the waves of the sea like an island, and again, twice in the day, when the shore is left dry, becomes contiguous to the land,’—a very apt description of the island, which is now called Holy Island; and Bede adds, in his Life of Cudberct, ‘And let no man marvel that in this same island of Lindisfarne, which is of very small extent, there should be, as we mentioned above, the seat of a bishop, and, at the same time, as we now state, the residence of an abbot and monks. For so it is, in truth. For one and the same habitation of the servants of God contains both at the same time. Yea, all whom it contains are monks; for Aidan, who was the first bishop of this place, was a monk, and was always wont to lead a monastic life, with all his people. Hence, after him, all the bishops of that place until this day exercise the episcopal functions in such sort, that, while the abbot, who is chosen by the bishop with the consent of the brethren, governs the monastery, all the priests, deacons, chanters, readers and the other ecclesiastical orders, with the bishop himself, observe in all things the monastic rule.’^[311] This Northumbrian church was therefore an exact counterpart of the monastic church of which Iona was the head; and Bede bears a noble testimony to its efficiency as a missionary church. He says, ‘From that time many from the region of the Scots came daily into Britain, and with great devotion preached the word of faith to those provinces of the Angles over which King Osuald reigned; and those among them that had received priests’ orders administered to the believers the grace of baptism. Churches were built in several places; the people joyfully flocked together to hear the Word; possessions and lands were given of the king’s bounty to build monasteries; the younger Angles were by their Scottish masters instructed; and greater care and attention were bestowed upon the rules and observances of regular discipline.’^[312]