the undertaking was not of such tremendous magnitude but that he might fairly have made the journey on his own responsibility. He, however, thought it better first to have recourse to his soul friend, Colum Crag, and 'take advice from his better counsel'; and it was only when he had 'laid his mind open to him,' and had received his consent and encouragement, that he began the journey. We are told that as the two were discussing the matter together, some of the brethren from Iona arrived. On being asked about their journey, they answered, 'We have lately landed from Britain, and this day we have come from Derry.' 'Is your holy father, Columba, well?' asked Colum Crag. But they, bursting into tears, exclaimed with great sorrow, 'The patron is indeed well, for a few days ago he departed to Christ.'[1]
Another interesting example of a soul friend having been consulted is given in an old manuscript, at present in the library of Trinity College, Dublin. One of the minor kings, Fiacha by name, who lived in the middle of the seventh century, was killed by his own people, and his brother Donnchadh 'came upon them in revenge; but he stayed his vengeance until he should consult his soul friend, the Coarb of Saint Columkill, to whom he sent a message to Iona, to ask his advice on the case.' The answer, brought back by two confidential clerics, was a strange one. Donnchadh was advised 'to send sixty couples of the men and women of the offending tribe in boats out upon the sea, and then leave them to the judgment of God. The exiles were accordingly put into small boats, launched upon the water, and watched so that they should not land again.' A curious development of the story is that the 'two confidential clerics,'
- ↑ Adamnan, Life of Columba, i. 2.
