In all the monasteries which he founded, we find that Columba made ample provision for the pursuit of sacred learning, and the multiplication of books, without which these studies could not be successfully carried on. He was himself, as we have already seen, a celebrated scribe:—

“Three hundred gifted, lasting,
Illuminated, noble books he wrote.”[260]

In Iona there was always one or more scribes constantly at work; and it was considered a most honourable occupation. Baithen, who succeeded Columba as Abbot, was frequently employed as scribe, and on one occasion he wrote rather quickly—percurrens scripsi—a copy of the Psalter, yet so accurately, that there was not a mistake of a single letter, except in one word where the vowel i was omitted. Sometimes the scribe became abbot, but at other times he became the bishop, usually resident in the community, to perform episcopal functions in Iona, and its dependant houses. Dorbene, abbot in A.D. 713, was a “choice scribe.” We have one of his manuscripts still with his name in it;[261] and the celebrated Adamnan, of whom we shall speak more fully hereafter, also wrote a beautiful hand. There was, doubtless, a scriptorium in Iona; and reference is explicitly made to waxen tablets for writing—tabulae—and also to the pens and styles—graphia and calami—and to the ink horn—cornicula atramenti.

The study of the Holy Scripture was their primary concern; the psaltery was generally got by heart; the Lives of the Saints were read for the community; and the works especially of the Latin Fathers, were frequently studied. Classical learning was not neglected in Iona, and the writings of Adamnan show that he was familiar with the best Latin authors, and had some knowledge of Greek also.[262] Theological and moral conferences were also held from time to time in presence of the principal members of the community. It was a monastic principle at Iona as elsewhere “to let not a single hour pass in which the monk should not be engaged either in prayer, or reading, or writing, or some other useful work.”[263] This was, Adamnan tells us, the invariable practice of Columba himself; and he sought to make it the rule of life in all the monasteries that he founded. A great portion of the time was undoubtedly given to manual labour—but then laborare est orare—whilst the hands laboured, the thoughts were with God; and besides labour is in itself a prayer, when the toil is necessary and the purpose holy.[264]

It was also prescribed in the Rule attributed to St. Columba that the monk should help his brethren by giving them instruction, or by writing for them; or if he were not qualified to discharge these important works of charity, then he was to help them by sewing their garments, or by whatever labour they might be most in want of—the principle being, never to be idle, and to help others as far as possible.[265]

II.—Columba Protects the Bards.

Another way in which Columba exercised great influence on learning in Ireland was by his successful efforts to preserve the Bards from the destruction with which they were threatened.

All our history and all our literature, even to some extent our laws, down to the time of Tighernach, were written in verse. Some people might think it better if they were written in prose; but the probability is—if we did not have them in verse, we should not have had them at all. “It was their duty,” says O’Donnell in his Irish Life of St. Columba, “to record the achievements, wars, and triumphs of the kings, princes and chiefs; to preserve their genealogies, and define the rights of noble families; to ascertain and set forth the limits and extent of the sub-kingdoms and territories ruled over by the princes and chiefs.”

But the Bards did not confine themselves to their official duties. Being a highly privileged class, they soon increased in numbers by the admission of their sons and other relatives amongst their ranks. They became greedy of gain, importunate in their demands, and oppressive in their exactions. They lived at free quarters, extolling their benefactors with extravagant praise, and satirizing the niggardly with unsparing invective. Even their best friends at length became weary of their importunities. The king had expelled them from his palace; but a party of them soon after reappeared, and audaciously demanded as their fee the royal brooch—the Roth Croi—which the king wore on his breast.

Tired of their eulogies and exactions, he and the whole nation rose up against the avarice and venom of the Bards. Their old enemies grew strong in numbers and courage, for now the king himself was on their side. A great convention was to be held forthwith; and it was given out as the fixed purpose of the king and his chiefs to procure the total abolition of the Bardic Order; and thus get rid of them and their exactions for ever.