good, to release captives, to mitigate barbarities, to
stay bloodshed, to protect the weak against the strong.
A cheap and easy way of explaining the exercise
of this power by the saints is that of saying that
they traded on the credulity of the people. But it is,
I am sure, a false appreciation. They were of the
people, steeped in their ideas, and did not rise above
them. To trade on credulity implies a superiority
they did not possess. Besides, it was the exercise of
a formal legal right.
There is one rather significant feature in all the missionary work of the Celtic saints which contrasts sharply with that of our modern emissaries into "foreign parts."
What we do is to collect moneys and start a missioner, who, wherever he goes, draws for his supplies on the mother-country, and depends, and his entire mission depends, on the charity of those at home. The Celtic method was absolutely the reverse. The missioner went among strange people, and threw himself on their hospitality. That is just one of the great virtues of a savage race, and these Celtic saints caught at the one noble trait in the characters of the half-barbarians among whom they went, and worked upon that and from that point.
The chiefs and kings felt themselves bound in hospitality to maintain them, to protect them, and to give them settlements. How strongly this feeling operated may be judged by an instance in the life of S. Patrick, who went to Laogaire, the Irish king, without any backing up from behind and without presents. When Laogaire refused Patrick something