Messingham, Florilegium (1624) — ascribed to “Blessed Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury”. Modern British English translation.

¹ You ask, most faithful knight of the Lord — the admirable life of the martyr Guigner and his companions, which you did once hold in brief notes — that their victory’s triumph be unfolded to you in ampler discourse. I long to answer your devotion with devotion; and though I am not worthy to recount the mighty deeds which strong souls demand, yet so far as the faculty of my wit serves, I will be busied earnestly with the saints’ praises: for the soldier’s praise is the emperor’s glory, and while the virtues of the saints are told, Christ’s glory is proclaimed. Devotion promises what knowledge denies, and the faith of the saints what ability offers not — let me presume therefore of their merits. Nor am I confounded by the poverty of my eloquence, since He declared that the kingdom of God stands not in intricacy of speech, who chose idiots and fishermen to proclaim His glory. The glorious confessor of the Lord, Patrick — to be preached everywhere — when, dwelling earnestly among the holy dwellings in the parts of Cornwall, was admonished by the angelic voice to approach the island of Ireland, to preach the faith of Christ in it. Then the faithful and prudent servant, learning the Lord’s vision, arose without delay and, esteeming the place foreordained for him by God as nothing, sought the solitude — dreading the fierceness of the barbarous and unbelieving race. At his coming, fame running before, seven kings of the forenamed island with the priests of the idols, with the satraps and no small multitude of that people, assembled to meet the saint. The holy man of the Lord, whole in faith and full of devotion, began to preach the gospel of Christ to them boldly and to evangelise salvation in Jesus. But because a vessel full of wormwood admits not the sweetness of another liquor until the bitterness be first driven out, they — still full of the proud spirit — refused to receive the doctrine of salvation. And perceiving the humility and meanness of his habit, and not the treasure hidden within, they utterly despised the holy and truly apostolic man.

² There was among those kings one nobler and mightier than all, named Clito. He had a son, a youth of good promise, by name Fingar — foreknown by divine election and already touched by the grace of the Holy Spirit. He alone of all arose to meet St Patrick; receiving the man of God with what honour he could, he made him sit in the place where he himself had sat. His father, severe and kindled with great indignation against his son, sent to him, saying that he meant to burn out the worship of his gods and to bring in through St Patrick a new law of Christians — and drove him from the kingdom, making him an exile from his paternal soil. To him many youths born among the nobles of Ireland, joined in sweetest love, went out equally into exile and reached the land of Britain. Which being heard, the judge of Britain bade them be brought before him as new settlers into his land, and diligently inquired for what and from which they had come. They answered that they had been driven from Ireland; and setting forth the reason for their banishment, they besought that he would grant them by his clemency a place in his province and licence to dwell. And learning the youths’ nobility, and knowing the cause of their exile, the duke assented to their petition with the greatest liberality and granted them as much land to dwell in as one man riding could compass in a day; and he held them worthy of veneration, deeming Fingar especially to be honoured. Obtaining therefore the Lord’s grace in all things, they were loved by all, honoured by all; and the new guests began from then on to dwell with the natives.

³ But when the providence of the most high God now willed to attach His recruit Fingar more closely to His service, He separated him thus. One day, going out hunting with his companions, they found and began to course a stag; and while the hounds pressed it insolently — that animal being custom to be borne by a wonderful swiftness of flight — Fingar alone with his hounds, leaving his companions, pursued the fugitive. To be brief: he held the weary stag, slew it, and cutting it up piece by piece laid it across his horse, as though to return to his companions who had lost him in the covering mist. But when he wished to wash his garment sprinkled with blood and his gory hands, looking here and there he found no water — until a staff of his, sunk into the earth, at once poured forth a most welcome vein of water. We wonder at the new stream; and that living thing likens him to the ancient people whom He made to drink when the rock was smitten. Compare, if it please, this deed with the old miracle of St Clement: for what that saint knew by the foot of a lamb, this man found by the point of his spear. Then, as he disposed himself to wash at the spring, leaning over the water he saw the beauty of his own fair face — for he was very comely and fair of aspect — and began to praise and bless God who had bestowed so great grace on him. And vowing from that hour to surrender himself to Him in total devotion, he loosed the bridle from his horse’s head and let it go where it would. He himself, lurking among the rocks beneath a certain cave, lived for some time on the mast of the wood. But his companions scattered through the places sought him with intent care; and when they found him not, sad and grieving they returned to their dwelling. And the lord of the Britons, hearing that he was missing, called his companions to him and asked where he had gone or what had become of him; and giving them bound into custody he threatened them, swearing to slay them all unless they told the truth — supposing him slain by them in some quarrel or strife. But if they had slain the man, they would at once have left their native soil; yet they had sustained infinite labours, borne the perils of land and sea — and the grief with which they were afflicted for him showed not murderers but true friends, such as should be believed of love, not of hatred. Having explained how he had gone from them in the hunting of the stag, they offered themselves to seek him again, promising to show the places where they had lost their companion, if he would assign men who knew how to search more cunningly.

⁴ So they went; and after much labour he was found and brought to the duke’s presence. And when the duke, rejoicing at his being found, kindly asked the reason for his action, he answered that he was wholly surrendered to the service of the divine, nor could he by any reasoning ever again follow the pomps of the world. Yet if the duke would concede of his benignity the place wherein, an oratory being built, he might serve God in quiet, he would gladly receive it. And the benign duke, assenting to favour his will, assigned the place, and moreover granted as a perpetual dowry, free from all tribute, the whole land which he had before granted to him and his companions for a dwelling. The chosen soldier of the Lord, Fingar, therefore entered the place consigned by the duke’s clemency, endowed most amply with lands and possessions; yet with his whole mind and devotion intent on the heavenly habitation, he instituted a dwelling of sanctification in which God might be praised perpetually. And thereafter the servant of God girt himself more strongly to stronger works: he tamed the flesh, strengthened the spirit, and by perfecting himself made himself perfect in the Lord.

⁵ After some time, admonished by angelic exhortation, he was bidden to return to the place of his birth. When, upheld in all things by the Lord’s protection, he had returned, he found Ireland subject to Christian kings, glorying in the confession of the Christian name and wholly steeped in the holy religion. The servants of the Lord rejoice to have received him; the Christian faithful, a fellow patron. They ask him, his father Clito being dead, to take the kingdom, desiring to have such a defender by whose providence the realm might be governed and the still-new Christianity guarded. “To you,” they say, “the honour is owed as of the king’s stock — save that we wish to have you as the author of the Christian faith; the inheritance pertains to you; the power falls to you by hereditary right.” Then he: “Spare me,” said he, “I pray — a man once dedicated to Christ Jesus; to Him alone I vowed to serve; to the offices of the world I cannot henceforth return: for ’no man putting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God’; no soldier of God entangles himself in secular business, that he may please Him to whom he has devoted himself.” And when they still pressed on with pious importunity: “In vain, brethren,” said he, “do labour with such prayers: I cannot be detained with you longer. But if you will act by my counsel, choose a man industrious and faithful, one of the nobles of the country, by whose providence the kingdom may be ruled and the Christian religion guarded — and to him deliver my sister Piala to wife, together with the kingdom.” Now Piala was a most famous virgin, daughter of King Clito, sister of St Guigner, regenerated in Christ by the water of purification. Instructed therefore by the saint’s counsel, they addressed the sacred virgin concerning a husband. To whom she, wholly founded in the love of Christ, answered: “My spouse is Christ, who by His grace chose me for the companion of His kingdom: to Him I pledged my faith, which I must not violate; and therefore I cannot take another spouse beside Him. The glory of this kingdom I despise — which should not be called glory, since it cannot lack misery; and to the kingdom which the Lord Jesus Christ promises I aspire, where is no sorrow nor sadness, but perpetual gladness and everlasting joy.” And the saint, perceiving the virgin’s resolve solidified in the love of Christ so that she could by no reasoning be bent to consent to marriage, said: “Let her be, brethren; strive not against God’s good pleasure — He so willed it and so foresaw it would be. Let us commend this kingdom to God’s providence; He according to His will shall provide its guardian and defender.” And bidding farewell to all, he prepared for his journey.

⁶ There followed him 770 men and seven bishops — whom St Patrick had begotten to Christ by the water of incorruption — full of God and instructed in the divine law, desiring to be companions of his blessed pilgrimage in the Lord; among whom was the aforementioned virgin Piala, the blessed Guigner’s sister. Animated therefore all in holy fellowship in the Lord, they went together with their patron as far as the shore; and finding the desired ship, all embarked in one vessel. They had now sailed a little way from land when — see — a certain virgin named Hya, born of noble blood, came to the shore, desiring to join herself to the saints’ company; and seeing them now far from shore, she was distressed with great grief and, kneeling on the ground with hands and eyes raised to heaven, devoutly begged counsel from on high. And lifting her gaze a little lower, she saw a small leaf upon the waters; touching it with the rod she bore in her hand, she wished to test whether it would sink — and see, beneath her eyes it began to grow and widen, so that she could not doubt it was a service sent her by God. And bold in faith, daring to mount upon the leaf — wondrously borne by God’s power — she reached the other shore before the companions. We must not hesitate at God’s works: for He who mightily divided the Red Sea for the passing, and stayed the Jordan for Elijah, and made Peter run upon the waters — He also, as He willed, transported His virgin. The companions, spreading sail, cleft the watery floods with prosperous course and reached Cornwall, at the port called Huel — where the holy virgin Hya, transported by God’s power, had already arrived. And descending from the ship they found a certain dwelling not far from the shore, in which a certain holy virgin lived enclosed; and St Guigner, unwilling to disturb her, saluted the virgin and resolved to pass to another place. Where, when the saint saw that water was needed — presuming with full confidence in Jesus Christ — he sent up a prayer, fixed his staff in the earth, and at once a most limpid water sprang forth for the saints to drink.

⁷ And after food, going from there, they came to a certain village called Conetonia. There a certain faithful woman fearing the Lord, named Coruria, showed them no small kindness. For when all could not be contained in her dwellings, nor had she straw whereon all might rest, she stripped the coverings of her houses, wherewith they were covered, and lent them for the saints’ repose. And the woman, full of charity, gave them one cow for food. Which being killed, they ate of its flesh equally as it was diligently prepared. Then, the grace after food being done, St Fingar bade all the bones stripped of flesh be gathered together and laid upon the same cow’s hide. Then he bade all the confessors of Christ who were with him to prayer, saying: “Let us pray, brethren, that God, for whose love this woman most dutifully served us this cow, may restore it to her.” And the prayer finished, beneath the eyes of all the cow stood up, fairer than it had been before. Then he bade its milk be brought him; and having drunk he simply besought God that the vein of milk in it might be made threefold richer than in other cows. And this is said to have been done not only in that one but in all that sprang from her. And morning being come, when they wished to go on their way, looking back they saw all the dwellings re-roofed and repaired, as though they had never been uncovered. Then the faithful who followed the footsteps of Christ with St Guigner — beholding God’s marvels multiplied in each place — were the more and more strengthened, and confirmed in the faith and love of Christ. And well did Christ deign to strengthen and console with such consolations His witnesses, whom He had resolved to crown with the palm of martyrdom shortly.

⁸ Morning being come, they went on their way through certain wooded places. The widespreading fame had already sounded in the ears of Theodoric, king of Cornwall, that a Christian multitude had come into his land; and the tyrant, hateful to God, fearing lest they should convert his people to the faith of Christ, gathered his soldiers and ran to the place where he knew the saints to be, more savage than a beast. He asked not the cause, sought no account, would hear no word: but falling on them unawares from behind, the bloody lion suddenly attacking Christ’s sheep slew, butchered and laid them low. The saints were cut down, slaughtered, torn apart — some with heads cut off, others pierced inhumanly with swords, others crucified: all in one day made martyrs of Christ, by the short cut of a sacred death they received the prize of everlasting life. St Fingar meanwhile by chance, separated a little from his own in a certain valley, was sitting awaiting his followers. Where, when he had fixed the staff he bore in his hand into the earth, and drew it back to him, a spring — fecund, enclosed decently on either side by a double rock — burst from the ground, which to this day ceases not to flow with copious vein of health. And suddenly hearing a murmur rising in the company, marvelling what it was, he hastened back to the saints; and seeing Christ’s victims being sacrificed everywhere and the hostile sword running through the saints’ limbs, he said to the few who were with him: “See, brethren, here is the place of our repose; here God has provided the end of our labours. Come therefore, brethren, and let us gladly be sacrificed for Him who gave His soul in redemption for many. Let us not fear them that kill the body, but rather Him who has power to send both body and soul into hell. you do,” said he, “son of the devil, the works of your father.” And the tyrant to him: “you shall not escape my hands; you shall not flee the sword.” Then the saint, in gladness offering an acceptable sacrifice to God, thrust forth from his side the staff he bore in his hand and stretched out his neck to receive the striker’s blow. And the most savage tyrant, striking the bare neck strongly with drawn blade, cut off the head and made him Christ’s martyr. And at once the trunk of the sacred body, holding the head in the faith of the sword, descended with its own feet, gathered it from the earth, and carried it in its own hands to a hill not far distant from the place, walking with firm step. There was a certain village set on the slope of that hill, where, hearing women quarrelling, he cursed the place eternally — that the dwellers therein should never cease from strife among themselves. From where, as is said, the land, though fruitful, yet remains uninhabitable: in the one part retaining the grace of fertility, in the other subject to the saint’s malediction. The holy martyr, therefore, unwilling to rest in that place, took up his head again and carried it on to another spot, where, laying the head down, he washed it diligently at a spring he found — at which place a most gracious spring ceases not to flow even to this day. And taking it up again washed, he bore it once more to another place — which place is separated from that wherein the holy martyrs suffered by a small interval of a certain slope. The place which received the body of the saint streaming with precious blood, being opened, at once gave forth a fecund spring, which is shown to the faithful even to this day. Moreover one of the soldiers, wishing to carry off the holy martyr’s staff from the place where the martyr had fixed it before his passion, saw that it had already put forth a double leaf from a forked branch — and smitten with fear at so great a miracle, dared not touch it. A tree is seen even to this day grown, as is said, from the staff by God’s power — but of what kind it is, is unknown.

⁹ The saints’ bodies still lay unburied through the field; and see, on a certain night Christ’s witness — in the same fashion in which he had borne his own head upon the mount — appearing to a certain man named Gur for the third time in a dream, bade him bury him. The man, waking, told his wife the vision in order — how he had been instructed by the saint concerning the burial. But the woman dissuaded him, lest perchance he should incur the king’s wrath and be drawn thereby into sentence of death. On the next day, going out into the field with his hounds to hunt, he found a stag, which — pressed by the hounds’ swiftness and fleeing — fell upon the holy martyr’s glebe as though to beg the protection of his sanctity. The hounds ceased to bark and to pursue the stag; and, all ferocity relaxed, they lay down gently together with the stag, as though venerating the saint. The man saw the great spectacle; and turning over in mind what he had seen by night, he reckoned himself drawn there by divine will. And taking the body of the most holy martyr, he buried it with what veneration he could. Then, diligently seeking the bodies of the holy martyrs through the field, he buried them as they lay. After some little while, when the vine of the Lord of hosts — that is, the Church — now occupied the bounds of Cornwall, a basilica was built by the devotion of the faithful over the holy martyr’s sepulchre. And when necessaries were wanting to the workmen labouring on the oratory and no one ministered to them, the saint — mindful of those who served in devotion to him — appearing by night to the men of the province round about, admonished each to bring food and needful help to the workmen. He came at last to a certain man who had an untamed bull, admonishing him to give it to the workmen in alms for food. And morning being come, the man began to wonder at the saint’s vision — how the beast, fierce of neck and exceeding proud, could be subdued — and how he should lead it to the place where the holy martyr had commanded. And mounting his horse to seek the bull, going out he saw the beast — untamed before but now made gentle by God’s power — standing before the doors, which of its own accord went gently before its master the whole way to the place where the workmen laboured on the oratory. God was magnified; and seeing the martyrs’ help present to them, they pressed on the work the more devotedly.

¹⁰ Another memorable thing, worthy of relation, is said to have happened also in the building of the same basilica. One of the workmen labouring on the work — when he struck with an axe — the tool was broken and divided into two pieces. The man, troubled, began to swear and protest that he would do nothing more on the work thereafter. Which when the overseer of the work heard — a good man who had undertaken the basilica’s care for God and devotedly surrendered himself to the saint’s service — he began to console the man and to soothe his sadness with bland addresses; and taking the pieces in the name of Jesus Christ and joining the ruins of the fracture, at once the implement was made whole and consolidated to the glorification of the martyr’s merits, so that no mark of the fracture appeared thereafter. God is praised in common and blessed; and the man who had sworn to do nothing more, strengthened by so great a miracle, stood the stronger in the work.

¹¹ But since I have undertaken to narrate the saint’s virtues, I have thought fit to insert in the lesson that which strikes fear into the unbelieving and admonishes all of the saints’ reverence. When two soldiers, in contempt of the holy martyr, urinated in insult upon a certain post fixed in the ground which had been his ship’s anchor, divine vengeance struck both at once. For both were seized by a demon: one of them chewed his tongue cut in pieces with his teeth; the other’s bowels were all poured out through his hinder parts — and so each expired in a horrible end. See, from this it can be sufficiently weighed with how great reverence God wills His saints to be honoured, whose contempt He disposed to be expiated by so strict a judgement.

¹² Upon the sarcophagus of a certain venerable bishop — who had been of King Clito’s bedchamber — a certain adulterer presumed to defile a certain woman’s womb; who, coupled inseparably after the manner of dogs in the very act of shame, could by no tearing be separated from one another: they were brought at last to the memorial of the glorious martyr Guigner, where by the merits of Christ’s witness and the intercession of the faithful they were freed. Moreover, the said martyr’s sacristan had a cow; and when certain wicked men had stolen it, driving it along they saw upon its horns burning lights; and smitten with fear at so great a spectacle, returning the next day they gave back the cow to the sacristan, and gave another cow in satisfaction for their crime, beseeching pardon. Earth taken from the holy mound with faith and devotion drives away diseases by the martyr’s merit and works healings.

¹³ These things I, Anselm, servant of Jesus Christ, have digested in brief style of the passion of the saints and the virtues of the precious martyr Guigner — according to the faith of those who tell them — that the faithful who glory in his spiritual title may have wherewith to be occupied in his lessons, and that the servants of their own patron may know his deeds. And for this reason I have joined my name at the end, that by the martyr’s merit and the faithful’s prayer I may merit the mercy of Jesus Christ our Lord the redeemer, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns God through all ages of ages. Amen.

These are taken from the third volume of the works of the divine Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, as emended by Dom Jean Picard — together with certain little works of Anselm preserved in the library of the Fathers at Paris — printed at Cologne in the office of Peter Cholin, in the year of the Lord 1612.

Appendix — extracts concerning St Brigit and the translation of the three patrons of Ireland #

¹ From the History of St Carthage the most prudent [of Lismore], in the library of the Floriacenses. Hearing that the blessed Brigit — who in that time was illustrious, dwelling in the Irish island, a virgin, abbess over a monastery of virgins — heard the fame of the blessed Gildas, she sent a messenger to him with beseeching words, saying: “Rejoice, holy father, and are you be able to rejoice in the Lord. I beseech you to deign to send me some token of your sanctity, that your memory may ever flourish among us perennially.” Then St Gildas, hearing the virgin’s embassy, made with his own hands a little moulded form of cast work and composed a small bell according to her petition, and sent it to her by the messenger she had sent. Which she, rejoicing, received, and gladly took it up as a heavenly gift sent her by him.

² From the Martyrology of Rhabanus. In Ireland the nativity of Brigit the virgin, which nativity is proclaimed to be of great merits and felicities.

³ From St Bernard in the Life of St Malachy. There once came three bishops into the vill of Fochart, which they call the place of the birth of Brigit the virgin — and a fourth was Malachy.

⁴ From Sigebert. Brigit the virgin of God died in Ireland [Scotia].

⁵ From the Martyrology of Usuard. Of St Brigit the virgin, who when she had touched the wood of the altar in testimony of her virginity, it was at once made green thereby.

⁶ Here Berengarius notes. Of the time of her death — namely Brigit’s — Marianus Scotus writes in the Chronicle that she closed her last day in the third year of the emperor Justin the elder. That year from Christ is, according to Ortelius’s tables, 523. There is a famous mention of St Brigit in Baronius, volume 7, year 524.

The Translation of Saints Patrick, Columba and Brigit — from the office of the Saints of Ireland #

¹ Rehearsing with worthy praises the translation of the glorious patrons of Ireland — Patrick the archbishop, primate and apostle of Ireland, and St Columba the abbot, and St Brigit the virgin — let us celebrate with pious minds. For it is said that at the time of the conquest of Ireland by the English there was a certain Malachy, a man of great merit and holy life and conversation, bishop of Down — where the bodies of the aforementioned saints were then buried. This bishop, pressing on in sedulous prayers, besought God as it were daily to deign to show him where so precious a treasure of relics — namely of the said saints — was hidden, that it might be made manifest in his time. And when on a certain night he was praying most instantly in the church of Down, he saw as it were a ray of the sun through the church, shining even to the place of burial of the said saints’ bodies. The bishop, much exulting at the aforementioned vision, prayed the more intently that the ray should not depart until he found the hidden relics. And rising from there at once, with the things necessary he went to the irradiated earth and dug there until he found the bones of the three foresaid bodies. And upon the ground which the ray illuminated he drew them out severally in boards; and those thus boarded he laid back in the same place beneath the earth.

² At that time there presided in Ulster a knight of great worth, John de Courcy, the conqueror of that country, who was much devoted to God and to God’s service — to whom the said Malachy related in order the vision and what had been done. With his consent and great assistance, a devout supplication was sent to Rome to the Supreme Pontiff for the translation of the said saints’ relics. And the pope himself, inclining his ears to the aforementioned supplication, sent John, cardinal priest of the title of St Stephen on the Caelian Mount and legate of the apostolic see, into Ireland; who in the church of St Patrick in Down, on the fifth of the Ides of June [9 June], the due reverences and services being performed, translated the aforenamed relics from the place where they had been buried and re-hidden by Malachy into an honourable place prepared for this purpose in the same church. And at the time of their translation there presided in the said church with the said legate fifteen bishops, with abbots, provosts, deans, archdeacons, priors and very many other orthodox men — decreeing that the day of the translation of the said saints should be celebrated yearly on the fourth of the Ides of June [10 June] by all the faithful of Christ established throughout Ireland, transferring the feast of St Columba to the day after the octave of those relics.

³ A homily: The Lord sent before His face His disciples having charity into Ireland — namely St Patrick and St Brigit — to preach; Patrick teaching the human, Brigit the womanly, to acknowledge their frailty in themselves. And for the greater perfection of charity He afterwards sent the blessed Columba — by whose name indeed the Spirit, who is the highest charity, is understood to be signified. These three rested in one place after their death in charity, and were translated together. That charity which these three had and preached be ever with us all — the supreme Trinity granting it, to whom be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.

⁴ Concerning which translation Giraldus Cambrensis thus writes in the Topographia Hibernica. The contemporaries of Patrick were St Columba and St Brigit; and at Down, in that same city, the bodies of the three were laid together. And in our own times — namely in the year in which the Lord John [de Courcy] first came into Ireland — as though in a triple cave, Patrick lying in the middle, the other two on either side, John de Courcy then presiding there and procuring this, three noble treasures were found by divine revelation and translated: from which the verse —

⁵ In the burgh of Down, three in one tomb are buried:
Brigit, Patrick, and Columba the pious.

⁶ THE END.

Jonas’s prologue to the Life of Columbanus the Abbot (which follows in Messingham’s Florilegium — the author’s preface, found in Surius but not among Bede’s works from which this was taken):

⁷ To the fathers Waldebert and Bobolenus, adorned with the governance of the whole and sacred summit and supported by abundance of religion — Jonas a sinner. I remember that almost three years ago, when I was wandering among the ridges of the Apennines and dwelling in the monastery of Bobbio, at the brethren’s flagrant connivance, or rather at the bidding of the command of the blessed abbot Bertulf, I promised to weave in my style the deeds of the high father Columbanus — especially since the very many of the fathers who were in that time and saw the things done beside him, who survive us, would tell us things not heard but seen; and also what we learned through the venerable men Athala and Eustasius, of whom the first was of Bobbio, the second of the monastery of Luxeuil over which you preside — his successors who handed on the master’s ordinances to be kept by their peoples: whose lives, and those of as many others as the event made memorable, we have promised to draw out afterwards. But considering the command of the aforementioned brethren or of the aforementioned father, I find myself much too unequal to this work. For if I had judged myself not unworthy of it, I should long since have essayed to weave these things even by rash attempt — though the Ocean’s shores often bore me through three years, and the soft ways of the sea-beaten bark soaked me, and the clinging marsh of Elnone’s plains, for the sake of the suffrage of the venerable pontiff Amandus who, established in these parts, curbs the old errors of the Sicambri with the evangelical blade. Yet, venerable fathers, it shall be the care of your judgement concerning the committed work that if my ready minuteness shall have lacked the ornament of eloquence, it be adorned by your trappings so as to be fit for readers — lest, while my unskilfulness in speech disfigures, since deeds are not matched by words, they should not imitate the saints’ virtues for weariness of reading; and though they gladly stretched the hand to the work taken in hand, they are soon minded to withdraw it bloodied by the sharpness of the reading. To whom it must be said that swimmers, when the strength of their limbs is broken and other aids fail, are custom with hasty effort to grasp the rushes; and that the tables of the rich, though other dishes abound, often desire rustic fare; and that most men, their ears sated with the melodies of all musicians — organ, psaltery and cithara — often lend a hearing to the soft piping of the oat-straw. And if they find me praising any man still joined to the living, let them not think me a flatterer but a discusser of a deed well done — nor favouring any with panegyric verse, but commending things worthy of memory; nor, if he survives, let him swell if he sees the Creator’s gifts bestowed on him narrated by me, lest by the goad of elation he corrupt the solidity of a sincere mind. For there is no doubt that the favour of flatterers pollutes minds full of the ornament of virtues, as the Lord speaks by Isaiah: “O my people, they that call you blessed deceive you and destroy the way of your steps.” For a wise man, as is commonly said, is spurred by false praise, provoked by true to strive for better things. Let praiseworthy report then adorn them for what they have done well, lest a blameworthy tepidity stain them by letting their fervour cool; and others, if they have done anything worthy of imitation, should not draw on themselves the damages of pernicious elation from the commemoration of virtue performed. I have therefore inserted those things which we have learned by true assertions were done, or have deemed worthy to be passed over in negligence. And many things have been passed over which we by no means remember in full, and to write anything partially we have judged in no wise fitting.

⁸ What is set down I have divided into two little books, that I might cut away the reader’s weariness in one volume. The first touches the deeds of St Columba; the second sets forth the life of his disciples Athala and Eustasius or of the others I have mentioned. These therefore we judge to be weighed in your balance, that approved by your sagacious examination they may drive ambiguity from the rest. For if anyone finds certain things not rightly distinguished and corrupted by unskilfulness, he will judge them to be rejected — especially if supported by the eloquence of the learned he abounds replete with knowledge. Yet let him know that we do not stretch our steps so far as to think ourselves equalled to the strides of the learned. They, swimming in the dew of eloquence, painted fields of lilies with flowers; for us the dry earth has scarce learned to bear shrubs. They, rich, have the tear of balsam from Engaddi and flower of spices from Arabia; for us, butter from Ireland scarce grows fat. They take pepper and nard from India; the pine-bearing ridges of the Apennines — ridges frozen by the cold blasts of the zephyrs — scarce yield us at last a little spikenard. They glory in the variety of precious stones; to us it seems rash to glory in the amber of Gaul. They send palm-fruits far away into foreign parts; for us, after the poet Ausonius, there are soft chestnuts and little apples. Farewell, fathers, men of vigour and strength, consecrated to God for ever.

[Editorial note: After the appendix material the source prints the Passio of Guigner, Fingar, Piala and companions a second time in full — an identical duplicate of the text translated above (the same pages captured twice in this file). Its content corresponds exactly to the translation given above and is therefore not repeated.]