CHAPTER X
THE GIFT OF VISION
WE have already seen how it was often given to St. Columba to know of events that were happening far away from the place where he might be, and how by his gift of prophecy he could sometimes foretell what would come to pass in the future. As he grew older it seemed to those who knew him intimately that these flashes of supernatural insight became more frequent, and that the things of the next world were growing daily more familiar to him as the time of his earthly pilgrimage drew to an end. Many instances of this have been recorded by his biographers.
One morning at Iona when the Mass was about to be celebrated, Columba sent word to the priest whose turn it was to offer the Holy Sacrifice that day, to do it in honour of the glorious birthday of St. Brendan. The monk could not understand his abbot's behest as no word had reached Iona of the holy Brendan's death. Columba then told him that during the night he had seen in a vision the soul of Brendan ascending to heaven surrounded by a great company of rejoicing angels; he knew therefore that he had entered into his rest.
On another occasion he ordered that the Mass for the feast of a bishop should be sung. Now there was no feast marked in the calendar for that day, and the monks asked their holy abbot to tell them the name of the bishop in whose honour the Holy Mysteries were to be celebrated.
"Last night," he replied, "I saw the soul of Columban, the Bishop of Leinster, in heaven, surrounded with the glory of the blessed; it is in his honour that we must offer the Holy Sacrifice to-day."
Columba had a deep love and reverence for all honest labour done for God. One night he told his monks that he had just seen entering into heaven the soul of a blacksmith whom he had known long ago in Ireland.
"He has bought eternal life," he said, "with the labours of the earthly. He was charitable and gave of his poverty to the poor, therefore the Lord of the Poor has rewarded him."
In the course of his travels in the Highlands he met one day in a lonely gorge a countryman in great distress. He was returning from a journey, and had heard that during his absence from home, a band of Saxon marauders had laid waste his little farm and burnt his house to the ground. He was in an anguish of fear lest his wife and children should have perished. Columba comforted him with kind words.
"Go in peace, my good man," he said, "your cattle and all your possessions have, it is true, been carried off by the robbers; but God has been merciful. Your dear little family is safe; go, for your loved ones are waiting for you, and comfort their sorrowing hearts."