The Legends of Saint Patrick | Page 4

O F
WORDSWORTH.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO "THE LEGENDS OF SAINT
PATRICK."
The ancient records of Ireland abound in legends respecting the greatest
man and the greatest benefactor that ever trod her soil; and of these the
earlier are at once the more authentic and the nobler. Not a few have a
character of the sublime; many are pathetic; some have a profound
meaning under a strange disguise; but their predominant character is
their brightness and gladsomeness. A large tract of Irish history is dark:
but the time of Saint Patrick, and the three centuries which succeeded it,
were her time of joy. That chronicle is a song of gratitude and hope, as
befits the story of a nation's conversion to Christianity, and in it the bird
and the brook blend their carols with those of angels and of men. It was
otherwise with the later legends connecting Ossian with Saint Patrick.
A poet once remarked, while studying the frescoes of Michael Angelo
in the Sistine Chapel, that the Sibyls are always sad, while the Prophets
alternated with them are joyous. In the legends of the Patrician Cycle
the chief-loving old Bard is ever mournful, for his face is turned to the
past glories of his country; while the Saint is always bright, because his
eyes are set on to the glory that has no end.
These legends are to be found chiefly in several very ancient lives of
Saint Patrick, the most valuable of which is the "Tripartite Life,"
ascribed by Colgan to the century after the Saint's death, though it has
not escaped later interpolations. The work was long lost, but two copies
of it were re-discovered, one of which has been recently translated by
that eminent Irish scholar, Mr. Hennessy. Whether regarded from the
religious or the philosophic point of view, few things can be more

instructive than the picture which it delineates of human nature at a
period of critical transition, and the dawning of the Religion of Peace
upon a race barbaric, but far indeed from savage. That wild race
regarded it doubtless as a notable cruelty when the new Faith
discouraged an amusement so popular as battle; but in many respects
they were in sympathy with that Faith. It was one in which the nobler
affections, as well as the passions, retained an unblunted ardour; and
where Nature is strongest and least corrupted it most feels the need of
something higher than itself, its interpreter and its supplement. It prized
the family ties, like the Germans recorded by Tacitus; and it could not
but have been drawn to Christianity, which consecrated them. Its
morals were pure, and it had not lost that simplicity to which so much
of spiritual insight belongs. Admiration and wonder were among its
chief habits; and it would not have been repelled by Mysteries in what
professed to belong to the Infinite. Lawless as it was, it abounded also
in loyalty, generosity, and self-sacrifice; it was not, therefore,
untouched by the records of martyrs, examples of self-sacrifice, or the
doctrine of a great Sacrifice. It loved children and the poor; and
Christianity made the former the exemplars of faith, and the latter the
eminent inheritors of the Kingdom. On the other hand, all the vices of
the race ranged themselves against the new religion.
In the main the institutions and traditions of Ireland were favourable to
Christianity. She had preserved in a large measure the patriarchal
system of the East. Her clans were families, and her chiefs were
patriarchs who led their households to battle, and seized or recovered
the spoil. To such a people the Christian Church announced herself as a
great family--the family of man. Her genealogies went up to the first
parent, and her rule was parental rule. The kingdom of Christ was the
household of Christ; and its children in all lands formed the tribes of a
larger Israel. Its laws were living traditions; and for traditions the Irish
had ever retained the Eastern reverence.
In the Druids no formidable enemy was found; it was the Bards who
wielded the predominant social influence. As in Greece, where the
sacerdotal power was small, the Bards were the priests of the national
Imagination, and round them all moral influences had gathered

themselves. They were jealous of their rivals; but those rivals won them
by degrees. Secknall and Fiacc were Christian Bards, trained by St.
Patrick, who is said to have also brought a bard with him from Italy.
The beautiful legend in which