Chapter IV: Part 4

"That is another lie," said our Saviour. "Do you not remember the day that I gave alms to the musician who was half drunk, there was wonder on you, and you said to yourself that many's the poor man in great want, whom I refused, and yet that I gave alms to a drunken man because I liked music. The day after that I refused the old friar, and you said that that was not right; and the same evening you remember what happened about the blind man. I will explain to you now why I acted like that. That musician did more good than twenty friars of his sort since ever they were born. He saved a girl's soul from the pains of hell. She wanted a piece of money, and was going to commit a deadly sin to get it, but the musician prevented her and gave her the piece of money, though he himself was in want of a drink at the same time. As for the friar, he was not in want at all; although he had the name of friar he was a limb of the devil, and that was why I paid him no heed. As for the blind man, his God was in his pocket, for the old word is true, 'where your store is your heart will be with it.'"

A short time after that Peter said, "Master, you have a knowledge of the most lonesome thoughts in the heart of man, and from this moment out I submit to you in everything."

* * * * *

About a week after that they were travelling through hills and mountains, and they lost their way. With the fall of the night there came lightning, thunder, and heavy rain. The night was so dark they could not see a sheep's path. Peter fell against a rock and hurt his foot so badly that he was not able to walk a step.

Our Saviour saw a little light under the foot of a hill, and he said to Peter, "remain where you are, and I will go for help to carry you."

"There is no help to be found in this wild place," said Peter, "and don't leave me here in danger by myself."

"Be it so," said our Saviour, and with that he gave a whistle, and there came four men; and who was captain of them but the person who robbed the blind man a while before that! He recognized our Saviour and Peter, and told his men to carry Peter carefully to the dwelling-place they had among the hills. "These two put gold and silver in my way a short time ago," said he.

They carried Peter into a chamber under the ground. There was a fine fire in it, and they put the wounded man near it, and gave him a drink. He fell asleep, and our Saviour made the sign of the cross with his finger above the wound, and when he awoke he was able to walk as well as ever. There was wonder on him when he awoke, and he asked "what happened to him." Our Saviour told him each thing and how it occurred.

"I thought," said Peter, "that I was dead, and that I was up at the gate of heaven, but I could not get in, for the door was shut, and there was no doorkeeper to be found."

"It was a vision you had," said our Saviour, "but it is true. Heaven is shut and is not to be opened until I die for the sin of the human race who put anger on My Father. It is not a common but a shameful death I shall get, but I shall rise again gloriously and open the heaven that was shut, and you shall be doorkeeper."

"Ora! Master," said Peter, "it cannot be that you would get a shameful death. Would you not allow me to die for you? I am ready and willing."

"You think that," said our Saviour.

* * * * *

The time came when our Saviour was to get death. The evening before that He Himself and His twelve disciples were at supper, when He said, "There is a man of you going to betray Me." There was great trouble on them, and each one of them said, "Am I he?" But He said, "He who dips with his hand in the dish with Me, he is the man who shall betray Me."

Peter said then, "If the whole world were against you," said he, "I will not be against you." But our Saviour said to him, "Before the cock crows to-night you will reneague (deny) Me three times."

"I would die before I would reneague you," said Peter; "indeed I shall not reneague you."

When death-judgment was passed upon our Saviour, His enemies were beating Him and spitting on Him. Peter was outside in the court, when there came a servant-girl to him and said to him, "You were with Jesus." "I don't know," says Peter, "what you are saying."

Then when he was going out the gate another girl said, "There's a man who was with Jesus," but he took his oath that he had no knowledge at all of Him. Then some of the people who were listening said, "There is no doubt at all but you were with Him; we know it by your talk." He took the great oaths, then, that he was not with Him. And on the spot the cock crew, and then he remembered the words our Saviour said, and he wept the tears of repentance, and he found forgiveness from Him whom he denied. He has the keys of heaven now, and if we shed the tears of repentance for our faults, as he shed them, we shall find forgiveness as he found it, and he will welcome us with a hundred thousand welcomes when we go to the door of heaven.

LEGENDS OF ST. DEGLAN.

PREFACE

I wrote down the following legend of St. Deglan, word for word, in Irish, from the telling of my friend, Padraig O'Dalaigh, who comes himself from the Decies.

THE STORY

When Deglan was leaving Rome he held his bell in his hand, but as he was going into the ship he left the bell upon a rock that was by the harbour, and forgot to bring it with him. The ship put out to sea, with the bell left on the rock behind it.

When Deglan was coming near Ireland he remembered the bell, and knew that he had left it on the rock behind him in Rome. Old people say that long ago there used not to be much good in "a cleric without a bell."[50] Deglan knew that he would want the bell when he would land in Ireland, and he prayed God to send it to him.

[50] "A cleric without a bell," and "the forgetting his bell by the cleric," are common proverbs in Irish.

At the end of a little time what should be seen swimming behind the ship but the rock and the bell on it, just as Deglan had left it at Rome. And when the vessel came to land, then the stone came into the harbour at Ardmore, and the stone comes up on the shore, and it is there yet. The stone is set high up on the top of two smaller stones, and room between the two for a man to pass out under them. If you were to see the hole you would feel certain that even a cat could not pass out through it, and yet a big man can pass through.

Every Deglan's Day, the 24th of July, and the Sunday nearest to it, thousands of people come from all over the Decies, from twenty miles away, to the "pattern," and anyone who has anything the matter with him, either disease or pain or sickness, goes in under that stone, and believes firmly in his mind that he will be healed. Hundreds do that yet, up to the present day.

About fifteen years ago the "pattern" was growing small and dying out, but a feis, the second feis in Ireland [in modern times] was held on Deglan's Sunday, and thousands and thousands of people came to it, and there had not been such a "pattern" for fifty years. I myself have often seen people passing under the stones.

Every second person in the "seana-phoball," and in the parish of Ardmore also, is called Deglan down to the present day. Scarcely a month passes that a child is not christened Deglan. The explanation that the people give of the name of the parish called "Seana-phoball," or Old Parish, is that Deglan had made a parish of it and that there were Christians there before there was a parish, or before there were Christians in any other place in Ireland, and "old phoball" is the same as "old paróiste" or parish.

[The above story is the folk version of part of the following, which is here translated for the first time from an Irish MS. in my own possession. St. Deglan's church is spoken of in the MS. as still standing, and his miraculous stone as being still preserved there when the account was written. This throws back the account many hundreds of years. I collated my MS. carefully with one written in 1758 [23 M 50], preserved in R.I.A. It has never been printed, but I believe my friend, Father Power, will soon publish the entire life of St. Deglan.]

ST. DEGLAN.

OF HOW TRAMORE GOT ITS NAME.

And the people of the island concealed the ship so that Deglan could not embark on it, for they disliked it greatly that Deglan should inhabit it, for fear they themselves might be banished out of it.

His disciples then said to Deglan, "Father, thou often requirest to come to this place. We pray thee to avoid it, and mayest thou receive from God that the sea should ebb away from the land so that people may go into it with dry feet, for Christ has said that whatever shall be asked of My Father in My name He shall give it you, for it is not easy for thou to inhabit this place or to protect it."

And Deglan said, "This place which was promised me by God and where my burial was promised, how shall I be able to avoid it? But concerning this thing which ye desire me to do, namely, to inhabit it, I like not to pray against the will of God concerning the taking away from the sea its own natural movement; howsoever, at your entreaty I shall direct my petition to God, and whatsoever pleases God, let it be done."

Deglan's disciples arose, and they said, "take thy staff as Moses did with the rod, and smite the sea with it, and God shall make manifest His own will to thee in that wise," and his disciples besought him to do that, for they were faithful people. His staff was [accordingly] given into Deglan's hand, and he smote the water with it in the name of the Trinity, and he made the sign of the cross of crucifixion with it on the water, and quickly the sea began to move out of his own place--so quickly that it was scarcely the swift monsters[51] of the sea could keep pace with it by swimming, and it left many of them on the shore high and dry, who were not able to depart with the sea on account of the rapidity with which it moved. And Deglan followed the sea with his crozier in his hand, and his disciples followed him, and there was a cry and a great sounding from the sea and from the monsters departing. And when Deglan reached the place where Tarmuin-na-mara is now, a young child of Deglan's disciples by the name of Mainchin spake, he being terrified at the noises of the sea and at the roaring of the unknown monsters with their mouths open, following the water. "Father," said he, "thou hast displaced the sea enough, for I am afraid of yonder awful monsters." At the word of the child the sea stopped. And Deglan did not like that, and he struck a light blow on his nose, and three drops of blood dropped from him to the ground under Deglan's feet in three places. And Deglan blessed the nose, and the blood ceased suddenly. And Deglan said, "it is not I who have removed the sea but the power of God, and it would have removed it further had it not been for the words thou spakest." And in the place where those drops of blood fell, three little wells of sweet shining water burst forth from them under the feet of Deglan. And those wells are still there. And they are seldom [without?] that colour of blood upon them as a remembrance of those miracles. And there is a mile in length and in breadth around them, and the name of it is "the tramore," or "great shore," and good and profitable is the land of Tramore, and there was [built] Deglan's monastery. And the crozier that Deglan had in his hand, when performing that miracle, its name was "Feardhacht Deglan." We shall say something more about its miracles in another place.

[51] Biastaide luathe na mara.

OF HOW ARDMORE GOT ITS NAME, AND OF ST. DEGLAN'S STONE.

Deglan proceeded to say mass in a church that lay before him in his way, and a small black stone was sent from heaven through the window of the church to him, and it remained on the altar in his presence. Great joy seized Deglan at beholding it, and he gave praise and glory to God for it. Now his mind was firmly set against ill ways and the unreason of the heathen after the possession of the stone, and he gave that stone to Lunan, son of the King of the Romans, who was in his company, to keep and to carry for him. And the name of that stone was Bobhur in Ireland,[52] namely Deglan's "Duibhin" (or little black thing) and it was from its colour it received that name, for by its colour it was black, and it revealed [things] by the grace of God, and Deglan performed many miracles [by it], and it remains to this day in Deglan's church....

* * * * *

... and on one of these occasions (a visit to Rome) he went to a holy bishop of the Britons named David, to the church which is called Cillmhin [Killveen], which is beside the shore of the sea which divides Britain from Ireland. And the bishop received him with honour, and he was for forty days in his society, with love and joy, and he used to say mass each day there, and they knit themselves together with bonds of brotherhood and partnership, and [they bound] the people of the place after them. And on his completing forty days there, they parted with salutation, and he said farewell to David and gave him a kiss in token of peace. And he himself and his disciples went to the shore of the sea to go into the ship to go to Ireland. And that stone I spake of, which was sent to Deglan from heaven, a monk was carrying it at the time; for Deglan was unwilling ever to part with it, and it used always to be in his company. And when they came from the shore into the ship the monk had forgotten it, [and left it] on a rock which was on the shore. And until they had gone about half way over the sea they never remembered it. And when they did remember it Deglan was melancholy, and so was every one else, after the gift, which had come down from heaven to Deglan, being forgotten in a place from which they never thought to get it back. Deglan looked above his head to heaven, and clearly prayed to God in his mind. And then he said to his disciples, "lay aside your melancholy, for God who made a gift of that stone from heaven at the first can now send it to us in an unusual ship." Wonderful and splendid it was that the rock without understanding or reason submitted to the Creator contrary to nature, for it swam directly after the ship, with the stone on it, and it was not long until Deglan and his disciples saw the rock after them, and the stone upon it. And when Deglan's people beheld that miracle, they were filled with the love of God and with honour for their master, Deglan. And Deglan spake prophetically: "Let the stone go on in front of you, and follow ye it, for whatsoever harbour it shall arrive at, it is near it that my city shall be, and my house and bishoprick,[53] and it is from that place I shall go to God's heaven, and it is there that my resurrection shall be." And the stone went out past the ship, and ceased the great pace at which it had proceeded up to then, and remained a little in advance of the ship, so that it could be seen from on board the ship, yet in such wise that the ship might not overtake it. And the rock steered for Ireland so that it took harbour in the south, in the Decies, at an island that was at that time called Ard-Innis Caerach, or High Island of the Sheep, and the ship took the same harbour, as Deglan had told them.

[52] This passage about Bobhur is not in the R.I.A. copy only the part about the Duibhin.

[53] Mo chathair si agus mo thigheas easbogoidheacht in my MS. "Mo theaghdhais easbogoideachta" 23 M 50. 1758.

Deglan, that holy man, went on shore, and he gave praise and glory and thanks to God because that he had reached the place of his resurrection on that island, where the sheep of the king of the Déise used to be kept usually and herded. And there was a pleasant high hill on it. And one of his disciples said to Deglan on going to the top of that hill "how shall this Ard beag (Little Height) support thy people."

"Beloved son," said Deglan, "say not so. This is no Little Height, but an Ard Mór (Great Height)," and the name has clung to it ever since, namely Ardmore of Deglan.

ST. PAUL'S VISION; OR, THE LAST END OF THE MAN WHO LEADS A BAD LIFE.

PREFACE.

I took the following very curious account from an Irish MS. a couple of hundred years old, which had been thrown away on a loft in a farm house in the County Meath before I secured it. There are other copies of this story in the Royal Irish Academy, and a fragment in the library of University College, Dublin, but mine is the best copy I have met. There is no other version, so far as I know, of St. Paul's Vision that is at all like this. The Vision was at one time well known in Europe. It was at first, according to Tischendorf, probably composed in Greek, and there is a version of it in Syrian and another in Latin. The story is also found in old High German, in Danish, French and Slavonic. The best and longest Latin version is to be found in the Bibliotheque Nationale at Paris, but there is not a word in it, nor in the Greek, nor in the Syrian, of the driving of the soul out of the body, or of the angel Michael's guiding St. Paul to the bedside of the dying man. As it is unlikely that some Irish Gael composed all this out of his own head, I can only surmise that it is a translation of a Latin or Greek original now lost, and that the story now survives through its translation into Irish alone.

We know that the Irish have saved for us several pieces of an apocryphal or mystic character, whose originals are now lost, such as the extraordinary piece called the "Ever-new Tongue," and the "Vision of Tundal."

This story contains a close resemblance to the "Debate between the Body and the Soul," which is usually known as the "Visio Philaberti," ascribed to Walter Mapes, or Map, or else to Walter Grosseteste, bishop of Lincoln, and of which a kind of middle Irish version exists in the "Leabhar Breac" and was published by Atkinson in his "Passions and Homilies." Another imperfect version was published by Dottin in the "Revue Celtique," 1903. My MS. from which I have taken this Vision of St. Paul's contains an excellent copy of it also. Almost all the Irish copies ascribe it to Grosseteste.

The longest Latin version of this Vision contains 51 chapters or sections, and deals with St. Paul's account of Paradise and his other wanderings, as well as with the infernal regions.

There is a "Passion of St. Paul" in the Leabhar Breac, or Speckled Book, but there is not a word about this Vision in it. I found an account of St. Paul in another Irish MS., probably taken from some lost source. "A small, miserable-looking person was the apostle Paul. Broad shoulders he had; a white face with a sedate demeanour. His head small. Pleasant bright eyes he had. Long brows, a projecting (?) nose and a long beard with a little grey hair."

The horrid description of the soul leaving the body with such reluctance has a curious Pagan parallel in an exactly reverse sense in Lucan's Pharsalia, Book vi., 721, in the dreadful account of the sorceress conjuring back a soul into the dead body, and its reluctance to enter it. "Adspicit adstantem projecti corporis umbram Exanimes artus, invisaque claustra timentem, Carceris antiqui: pavet ire in pectus apertum, Visceraque, et ruptas letali vulnere fibras. Ah miser extremum qui mortis munus iniquae, Eripitur non posse mori, etc."

The mediæval Irish translator of the Pharsalia revelled in this sorceress episode.

For the original of the following piece, see "Religious Songs of Connacht," vol. II.

THE STORY

The Apostle Paul, upon a certain time, chanced to be in a city of the name of Smyrna, in the land of Syria. And this is how Paul was, namely, making intercession with God, the all-powerful, to reveal to him something of the pains of hell, so that all the more for receiving that revelation, he might perform the will of God, and give instruction to the congregations. And, as he was beseeching God in this wise, there cometh unto him a youth, and he asketh Paul to go with him, to confirm in his faith a man who was at the point of death. Paul departed along with the youth to the place where was the sick man, and him they found before them struggling with the Death. Now this is the manner wherein the soul parteth from the body--as saith St. Bernard, one of the arch-doctors of the Trinity. He saith that the Death cometh in a cold, unrecognisable, insufferable shape, stabbing the body with spits and arrows. And first it cometh into the outer members, namely the centre of the soles of the feet, and of the palms of the hands, in the veins, and in every other member of the body, until it hunt the noble soul before it out of every member of the body, even as the fisherman routeth the fish under the hollows of the banks (?) to the weedy-place (?) in which the net is set to catch them. Even so doth the Death, routing before it the soul into the heart--the first member of a person to be alive, and the last member to die.

But, howsoever, upon the coming of Paul and of the messenger to the sick man, they perceived how he himself and the Death were struggling with one another, and that the Death was after taking possession of all the body, except that the soul was in the lower chamber of the heart, striving to conceal itself from the Death. But that was in vain for it, for when Death came to the heart, he began ploughing and boring the heart, for he felt certain that it was there the soul was. But when the soul felt its enemy and adversary the Death close to it, it thought to leave the body and to come forth out of the mouth, since it found no dwelling place nor shelter in the body. But it is what it finds before itself there, a frightful fearsome host of black, ugly-coloured devils, and fiery flames full of stench, and a loathsome, insufferable, evil smell coming forth out of their mouths, and each one of them watching with fierceness for the soul to come forth out of the mouth and out of the body, for it was in a state of damnation, without repentance, that this sinner was dying. And when the poor soul beheld this devilish guard in front of it, the soul returned fearful (?) and quaking and cometh into the passage of the nose and thought to come out there. But it beholds the same host before it. It returneth full of weariness and misery and goeth to the eyes, but it is what it findeth there before it--many black, ugly-coloured devils with fiery flames out of their mouths and gullets, and each of them saying, "What is this delay of Death's that he routeth not out to us this damned soul forth from the greedy body in which it is, till we bear it with us to its own abode--a place where there is darkness and eternal pain for ever and ever as its evil deeds have deserved [that were wrought] during the time that it was its own master?" And on the poor soul's hearing these words it screamed and cried feebly, and wept tearfully, sorrowfully, and with bitter weariness, for it recognised then that it was parted from the eternal life for ever and ever, and it turns back again to the hollows of the ears, where it thought to find a way out, but it is what it finds there before it many loathly worms and evil-shaped terrific serpents of various kinds. When the soul saw that, it returned back to the heart, for it desired to go, as it seemed to it, into hiding, but it found Death before it there, ploughing and boring the heart. Then the soul considered that it had no escape on any side. It despaired of God and of the whole angelic court, and it went aloft to the crown of the head. It goes out and leaves the body and settles on the top of the head. It looks down at that tomb where it had been--namely, the body--and said, "Oh! all-powerful God! is it possible that this is the body wherein I was for a brief [space of] happiness; and if it is, where has gone the blue clear-seeing eye, or the crimson cheek? 'Tis what I behold in place of the eyes--hollow dry cavities sucked back into the hollow of the skull; the ruddy handsome cheek now dark and beetle-hued; the mouth that was to-day red and shapely now closed, not to be opened, livid, hideous, without talk, without speech; and oh! all-powerful God! alas for him who was deceived by the companion at the raising (?) of the body's strength, power, pride, and spirit, which was begotten and which was alive, and whose share of gold and treasures was great; but I do not see one thing of all that in his possession now, nor advantaging nor comforting him at all; but I see that it is ill he spent the gifts that God gave him, and that on account of this he has damned me for ever."

The body spake, and said: "If it were not for thee these devilish furious hosts would not come to claim me now. For this is how thou wast when thou wast bound to me; thou wast an active, most powerful spirit, full of understanding and of feeling, and of clear intellect, of nobility and of honour; thou didst recognise between evil and good; whilst I was nothing but a fistful of clay, without beauty or strength, or feeling, or sense, or understanding, or power, or guidance, or movement, or sight, or hearing, until thou wast bound to me, and for that reason it is thou who art guilty and not I."

"Thou greedy, carnal, unsubduable worm, all thou sayest is not true, for I was a clean, glorious spirit," said the soul, "who had no necessity for food or clothing or for anything at all, of all that is on the earth, but the joy of holy life, until I was bound to thee. And this is why I was bound to thee, for thee to spend the activity of thy feet, the labour of thy hands, the sight of thy eyes, the hearing of thy ears, the speech of thy mouth, the thoughts of thy heart, and every other gift that God gave thee, so as to do ministering, to make submission, and to perform every other service to glorious God throughout thy period on this world, so that after that I and thou might find the fruit of those good deeds in the enjoyment of eternal glory in the company of God and of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of all the angelic heavenly court, where cometh everyone who has done good deeds, such as fasting, alms-giving, prayers, acts of friendship to a neighbour, listening willingly to the words of God, and acting accordingly; and who used not to refuse to relieve the necessity of the poor, and the like. But those are not the things that thou didst, but spending the gifts God gave with gluttony, drunkenness, adultery, pride, arrogance, greed; with the ruin of thy neighbour's portion; with lies, noisiness (?) anger, quarrelling, back-biting, folly, pitilessness, injustice, wrath, sloth, envy, lechery, with the spoil of the poor, and with every other sort of sin that the human body thought pleasant; and lo! what fruit hast thou for those misdeeds. Dead and feeble are thy limbs which were once active and strong; closed is the mouth wherewith thou didst use to hold unlawful discourse; weak is the tongue wherewith thou wast wont to utter obscene barbarous words, giving ill-fame, reproach, disrespect, shame, contempt, displeasure, and every other sort [of evil] that thy thoughts and intellect could bring to mind. Deaf is the ear that used to listen with pleasure to murmurings, to scandal, to the back-biting of neighbours. Blind and hollow is the eye that used to look with greed, partiality, and malice. There is no fairness nor beauty in the hand on whose fingers the gems used to be. I see them not on thee now. And, moreover, I see not the gold nor the silver nor the various other goods which thou didst get by defrauding, which thou didst rob, which thou gottest from the weak, from the orphan, and from the miserable, with deceptions and ill-will. They are now in the possession of other people, and not one thing of them doing good to thee, but [doing] every evil that is possible to reckon. And, therefore, O greedy, lustful body, most unsubduable worm that God ever created, it is thou art most guilty and not I," said the soul.

After the soul uttering those words miserably and wearily, an evil spirit of that damned host that was waiting to get the soul into its own possession spake, and said: "It is a wonder how long Death is without routing this damned soul to us forth out of the body."

Another devil answered him and spake: "It is not possible for us to possess it or to take it until Jesus Christ pass judgment upon it first, according to its actions, bad and good. However, its possession for ever is ours; for ever, because it was to us it did service and ministry whilst it was living, and ours is the possession of soul and body from the day of the last judgment for ever."

After the devils speaking these words, a shining, happy host of the angels of heaven lowered themselves, with singing of music, round about the body, and in their midst a Youth more glorious than the sun. Many awful, wide-opened wounds in His skin, and they dripping blood. The Youth spake to the dead, and asked him how he had spent the life that he got, or the gifts that God gave him. The body answered and said: "O Jesus Christ, O Lamb, Son of God, I am not able to deny it, that it was ill I spent my time and the gifts that I got; that Thou didst suffer passion-pains and death on my behalf, and that I paid no regard to that, and therefore I am myself admitting that Thou hast no power (from the true right of Thy divinity, and from the plentifulness of my evil deeds, since I did not make repentance of them either early or late) not to pass judgment damning me now. And alas! now I see the wrong, the loss, and the harm, of the neglect I was guilty of, in putting off repentance, until Thy messenger, the Death, came to me, and, my grief! I was not prepared for him, and, moreover, I got no respite when he came, until he destroyed me--and that is my account of my life, and indeed it is more evil than it is good."

"Well, then," said the Youth on whom were the wounds, "all that thou hast committed of faults and of evil deeds throughout thy life, if thou wert to make true repentance from thy heart of them, I would make thee as clean as the sun, and I would place thee in the company of the angels and of the saints, enjoying everlasting glory, and the devilish host which is waiting for thee would have no power nor might over thee. But since thou hast not done that, it is necessary to pass judgment upon thee according to thy deeds, bad and good."

Then there came each one of the demon host that was waiting for the poor soul, and a roll of dark black parchment in the hand of each of them, in which was written all that the dead man had done in the service of the devil. On the Saviour Jesus Christ perceiving that, it was what He said, "Take with you this damned soul to hell, to pain it till the day of the general judgment, and from that out ye shall have the body as well as the soul, enduring eternal pains."

Then came the devilish host that was waiting for the soul. They drew the poor soul with fiery crooks, and they made of it a lump of fire, and they were hunting it before them to hell, and it calling and crying out faintly and fearfully.

Paul the Apostle was observing each thing of those, because it was God who had sent His messenger to him, so that he might get a view of the person who led a bad life, at the point of death, according to the prayer he had made. Then, upon the departure of the accursed host and of the soul out of sight, Paul cried aloud, weeping and lamenting, to get a sight of the end that was being brought upon the soul. Then the messenger asked Paul did he desire to get a sight of the pains of that soul and of the other damned souls. "I should so desire," said Paul, "if it were God's will." "Well, then," said the messenger, "I will give thee a sight of them, for I am not a man of this earth, but an angel that God has sent to thee to show thee these things, and I am Michael the Arch-Angel," said he.

After these words the angel brought him to the brink of a valley that was stupendous for depth and fearfulness. Paul beheld, amongst the first things there, a great, dark, frightful river. Blacker than coal was its appearance, and jet black the bubbling terrible water that was in it, so that one puff alone of the venemous wind that used to come out of it would kill all the men and women of the world--were it not for the Spirit of God succouring them it would split stones and trees--and he beheld many loathly worms and snakes, and devils of divers shapes in it, raging, beating, gnawing (?), and bone-cutting one another; cursing the day in which they were born or were created. And on the other opposite side of the river there was a dark cave in which were many damned souls screaming(?); being bound (?) and lashed. And some of them were in this wise, sitting on the fiery hearth of pains; many black, ugly-shaped devils serving and administering the insufferable pains to them, such as fiery flames, sharp and hurting (?), and the devils tossing them and turning them (?) with sharp-pointed spits in those flames. And there was a resting-lake (?) of very cold ice, full of venom, into which the damned souls used to leap, seeking cooling and comfort from the sharp goading of the fire. However, no sooner would they go to the lake than they would leap out of it again into the fire, by reason of its cold, and of the sharp venom that was in the water, and here are the words some of them would say:--"O all-powerful God, is there any redemption or help in store for us, or shall we be for ever in these pains, or in what place is Death that he cometh not unto us to put us into nothingness, so that we might find a sleep, on our being dead?" Another spirit of them answered and said: "O accursed, devilish, damned spirits," said he, "there is no help nor redemption laid out for you for ever and ever, because this is the end your misdeeds deserved whilst ye were in life, with pride, with haughtiness, with gluttony, with inordinate desire, and with every other sort of sin. Ye have spent the gifts that God gave you, namely feeling, beauty, strength, airiness (?), happiness, the sight of the eyes, the hearing of the ears, the speaking of the mouth, the movement of the limbs, and all those [given] to do the service of God. However, what ye have done was to spend them in the service of the devil, and it is he who shall give you your wages in pains, without help or relief, for ever and ever."

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "who they are who are pained like this?"

"I know not," said Paul, "but it is on them are the hardships impossible to count-up or to show-forth."

"There," said the angel, "are the people of haughtiness and pride, who used to be bruising-to-pieces the poor, who gave themselves up to drinking and the evil desires of the world. Yon devils are beating them, and ministering to them eternal pains, and they shall be so for ever and ever, in eric for their misdeeds."

* * * * *

Paul beheld another band upon the fiery hearth of pains, many loathsome beetle-worms and serpents gnawing and bone-cutting each member of them; some of the worms going into their mouths and their necks and coming out on their ears, and the spirits themselves collecting and drawing those devils and those loathsome reptiles to themselves.

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "what people are pained like this?"

"I know not," said Paul.

"Those," said the angel, "are the people of adultery and disgusting lust; and in eric for the fair-coloured, gaudy clothes that they used to put upon themselves, both men and women, deceiving one another, those devils are for ever gnawing, overthrowing, and bone-cutting them."

* * * * *

Paul beheld another lot upon the fiery hearth of hell. Great mountains of fire on every side of them, many ill-shaped devils throwing down those mountains upon the very top of them, bruising them together and bitter-urging them for ever.

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "what people are pained like this?"

"I know not," said Paul.

"Those," said the angel, "are the people of greed, the lot who store and gather their neighbours' portion unlawfully, who used not to show mercy or give alms or act with humanity to the poor, and who used to oppress the feeble."

Paul saw another lot of people on the fiery hearth of pains, ever-hideous devils, their eyes straying in their heads, being pained and bitter-tortured, and being tightened with fiery chains.

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "what people are pained like this?"

"I know not," said Paul.

"Those are the people of envy, the lot who used to be tortured and burnt with envy and with jealousy when they used to see their neighbours' goods or possessions, and who would not be satisfied with the gifts that God would give themselves--and in eric for that they shall be tortured in this way for ever."

* * * * *

Paul beheld another band upon the hearth of fiery pains, up to their chins in cold frosty water of the colour of coal. More stinking was that water than a dead carcase after corruption. Many reptiles, swimming before them in that water, they being tortured with famine and with thirst, their mouths opened, crying for food and drink, it set before them, without its being in their power to taste it, for as often as they would make an attempt it used to remove farther from them.

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "what people are pained like this?"

"I know not," said Paul.

"Those are the people of gluttony, the people who never fasted nor abstained nor gave alms nor said prayers, who used to be eating and drinking forbidden food and drink, who used to give to the body its own satisfaction, with drunkenness, gluttony and lust, and never checked the want of the poor."

* * * * *

Paul beheld another band upon the hearth of fiery pains, and this is how that lot were, with fiery flames out of their mouths and gullets. An evil disgusting, insufferable smell upon that flame. Their eyes ghastly wandering, straying in their heads; they pulling one another and beating one another like fully famished lions.

"Knowest thou, O Paul," said the angel, "what people are pained like that?"

"I know not," said Paul.

"Those are the people of anger, of disobedience and of despair. They shall be thus for ever and ever."

* * * * *

Paul beheld another lot very cold and dark, upon the hearth of pains, bound with chains upon their narrow beds, bruised and tortured and tightened in bondage by those chains, full of foulness and of evil disgusting smell, and every pain that it is possible to think of.

"What people are those?" said Paul.

"Those," said the angel, "are the people of sloth who used to remain away from Mass, from sermons, and from the service of God. Through sloth they used to neglect and disregard good deeds, and alas for him who is journeying towards that kingdom," said the angel, "for that is the habitation of the fiery pains and of the misery, the lake of cold, the prison of gall, the cave of darkness, the congregation of curses, the hearth of anger, the ford of snow, the captivity of sloth, the abode of misery, the dungeon of venom, the court of dispute, the war of the damned devils, the lake and the sea that is filled with wrath, with want, with envy, with covetous desire, with jealousy, and with all evil. _Uch hone, uch!_ Alas for him who is journeying to it."

Howsoever, the angel showed Paul, at full length and completely, the pains of hell. And, on Paul's beholding all that, with the grace of God, and with the help of the angel, he gave thanks to God for receiving that vision, and he fell to thinking bitterly about the numbers of people on the world who were journeying to those pains. Then the angel led Paul from the clouds of hell until he gave him a sight of the glory of the heaven of God. And, on Paul's beholding that sight, no sorrow of all he had had in his life oppressed him. He beheld the entire glory of the heavenly palace. He beheld our Saviour Jesus Christ in the midst of the angels on His throne, and the Lord gave Paul a gentle, friendly welcome, and told him that it was a short time until he should come to eternal glory. Then the angel took Paul with him from the sight of the glory [of heaven], and left him in the place where he had found him at first, bade him farewell, and departed to heaven.

* * * * *

Paul was throughout his life teaching and preaching to the congregations and to the Gentiles about the glory of the heavens and the pains of hell.

Glory be to the living God!

OSCAR OF THE FLAIL.

PREFACE.

I wrote down the following story from the mouth of John Cunningham of Ballinphuill, Co. Roscommon, on the high road between Frenchpark and Ballaghaderreen, about twenty years ago. Oscar's flail is well known in Irish tradition. The poet O'Kelly, in his series of English curses on Doneraile, alludes to it--

May Oscar with his fiery flail
To pieces dash all Doneraile.

Mr. Stephen Gwynn, M.P., found a variant of this story in Donegal and has given a spirited poetic version of it. The story is also known in Waterford. It is probably spread all over the lands occupied by the Gael, and contains elements that are exceedingly old. The very verses about "the humming gnat or the scintilla of a beam of the sun" which I wrote down from the mouth of old John Cunningham in the Co. Roscommon, had been already jotted down in phonetics by Magregor, the Dean of Lismore, in Argyllshire in the year 1512. I printed the whole story with a French translation and introduction in the "Revue Celtique," vol. 13, p. 425, showing how in the Tripartite life of St. Patrick the story of piercing a penitent's foot is told of a son of the King of Munster. But, as his name was doubtless soon forgotten, the story got fathered upon Oisín.

The story had its rise, no doubt, in the sorrow felt by the people when the clerics told them that their beloved Fenians and Oisín and Finn were damned, and the story was probably invented by some clever person to save them from perdition. There are scores of MSS. which contain disputes between St. Patrick and Oisín, or Ossian as the Scotch call him, on this very subject. See "Religious Songs of Connacht," vol. I., p. 209. For the allusion to Elphin, see the poem which follows.

THE STORY

Saint Patrick came to Ireland, and Oisín met him in Elphin and he carrying stones.

And whatever time it might be that he got the food,
It would be long again till he would get the drink.

"Oisín," says he, "let me baptize you."

"Oh, what good would that do me?" says Oisín.

"Oisín," says St. Patrick, "unless you let me baptize you, you will go to hell where the rest of the Fenians are."

"If," says Oisín, "Diarmaid and Goll were alive for us, and the king that was over the Fenians, if they were to go to hell they would bring the devil and his forge up out of it on their back."

"Listen, O gray and senseless Oisín, think upon God, and bow your knee, and let me baptize you."

"Patrick," says Oisín, "for what did God damn all that of people?"

"For eating the apple of commandment," says St. Patrick.

"If I had known that your God was so narrow-sighted that he damned all that of people for one apple, we would have sent three horses and a mule carrying apples to God's heaven to Him."

"Listen, O gray and senseless Oisín, think upon God, and bow your knee, and let me baptize you."

Oisín fell into a faint, and the clergy thought that he had died. When he woke up out of it, "O Patrick, baptize me," says he--he saw something in his faint, he saw the thing that was before him. The spear was in St. Patrick's hand, and he thrust it into Oisín's foot purposely; and the ground was red with his share of blood.

"Oh," says St. Patrick to Oisín, "you are greatly cut."

"Oh, isn't that for my baptism?" says Oisín.

"I hope in God that you are saved," says St. Patrick, "you have undergone baptism and ...?"

"Patrick," says Oisín, "would you not be able to take the Fenians out of hell"--he saw them there when he was in his sleep.

"I could not," says St. Patrick, "and any one who is in hell, it is impossible to bring him out of it."

"Patrick," says Oisín, "are you able to take me to the place where Finn and the Fenians of Erin are?"

"I cannot," says St. Patrick.

As much as the humming gnat
Or a scintilla of the beam of the sun,
Unknown to the great powerful king
Shall not pass in beneath my shield.

"Can you give them relief from the pain?" says Oisín.

* * * * *

St. Patrick then asked it as a petition from God to give them a relief from their pain, and he said to Oisín that they had found relief. This is the relief they got from God. Oscar got a flail, and he requested a fresh thong to be put into the flail, and there went a green rush as a thong into it, and he got the full of his palm of green sand, and he shook the sand on the ground, and as far as the sand reached the devils were not able to follow; but if they were to come beyond the place where the sand was strewn, Oscar was able to follow _them_, and to beat them with the flail. Oscar and all the Fenians are on this side of the sand, and the devils are on the other side, for St. Patrick got it as a request from God that they should not be able to follow them where the sand was shaken,--and the thong that was in the flail never broke since!

OISIN IN ELPHIN.

PREFACE.

In the story which I have just given it is said that St. Patrick met Oisin when he was carrying stones in Elphin, a small village in the County Roscommon, which was once a great ecclesiastical centre founded by St. Patrick. I had often heard other people in Roscommon tell about Oisín's carrying those stones in Elphin, and of St. Patrick meeting him there, but I always imagined that they had localised the story because they themselves belonged to the place. That this is not so, however, and that the story of the ancient warriors being forced to carry stones in his old age is old and genuine is proved by Magregor in Argyllshire jotting down a verse 400 years ago in which Ossian tells how Finn had prophesied to him that he would yet be carrying stones for the "Tailgin."

Bea tou schell a tarraing clooch,
Ma in deyt how in weit wronyth.

i.e., [uncial: Béidh tú seal ag tarraing cloch,
Man [rul] dtéld tu ón bhith bhrónach]

and the very poem (which I give here, taken from a Belfast MS.) was written in phonetics by Magregor in far-away Argyll.

Magregor's first line as read by McLaughlin (Skene's Book of Lismore) runs "is fadda noch ni nelli fiym," but Dr. Cameron later on gave a more correct reading "is fadda not ni nelli finni." It is not to be translated as McLaughlan does, "long are the clouds this night above me," but "long is to-night in Elphin," ni nelli finni being evidently to be transliterated as "i n-Ailfinne." This poem may almost be looked upon as a pendant to the last piece. See my "Religious Songs of Connacht."

COLD ELPHIN.

Long was last night in cold Elphin,
More long is to-night on its weary way,
Though yesterday seemed to me long and ill,
Yet longer still was this dreary day.

And long, for me, is each hour new-born,
I fall forlorn to grinding grief
For the hunting lands, and the Fenian bands,
And the long-haired generous Fenian Chief.

I make no music, I find no feast,
I slay no beast from a bounding steed,
I give no gold, I am poor and old,
I am cursed and cold without wine or mead.

No more I court, and I hunt no more,
These were before my strong delight,
I have ceased to slay, and I take no prey,
--Weary the day and long the night.

No heroes come in their war array,
No game I play, and no gold I win;
I swim no stream with my men of might,
--Long is to-night in cold Elphin.