Another valuable work which we owe to the indefatigable industry of Ængus is the collection of Pedigrees of the Irish Saints—the oldest, and therefore the most authentic collection that we possess, and enriched moreover with valuable topographical notes and references to many of our ancient churches. The fifth part of this work is the Book of Litanies, which has been published in the third volume of the Irish Ecclesiastical Record. It affords conclusive proof of one fact, that the invocation of the saints was not only a well recognised, but quite a common form of devotion in the early Church of Ireland. Indeed there is scarcely a single folio of any portion of the writings of Ængus that does not afford conclusive evidence of the same fact.
The last work of Ængus is the Saltair-na-Rann, which Eugene O’Curry describes as “consisting of 150 poems on the history of the Old Testament, written in the finest style of the Gaedhlic language of the middle of the eighth century.” Probably it got its name from its resemblance, at least in number, to the Psalms of David. It is, according to the same authority, altogether a different work from the comparatively modern poem of the same name in the British Museum.
In the year 1880 the Felire, or Metrical Calendar of Ængus, edited and translated by Dr. Whitley Stokes, was published by the Royal Irish Academy. In a paper read before the Academy so early as 1871, and prefixed to this work, Dr. Stokes asserts that Ængus cannot have been the author of the Felire; that similar linguistic reasons prove that he cannot have been the author of the Saltair-na-Rann, and that there is not a particle of trustworthy evidence to show that Ængus ever wrote either the Pedigrees of the Irish Saints, or his celebrated Litany of the Irish Saints. Dr. Stokes is a conscientious and painstaking writer, but with a love of originality in his views. We carefully examined the reasons which he gives in favour of these very original views, and we must say we thought them exceedingly hollow. As to his linguistic reasons for asserting that the Felire and the Saltair could not have been written before the close of the tenth century, we may confidently set the opinion of an Irish scholar like Eugene O’Curry against that of Dr. Whitley Stokes, whose knowledge of Irish is purely book knowledge. There is not a single linguistic form in the MSS., which he alleges to be later than the eighth century, that cannot be explained by the well-known custom of the copyists modernizing the language of the MSS., so as to make their copies more intelligible to those for whom they wrote.[321] We have already explained how in a similar way the names of a few saints, and of the author himself, might have been added to the Felire by a copyist who wished to pay honour to a favourite saint of his own church. Flimsy reasons of this kind manifestly cannot outweigh the explicit testimony of the Scholiast’s Introduction—written before the twelfth century in very ancient Irish—that these were the works of Ængus, and giving us the time, the place, and the circumstances of their composition, with the few facts that are known to us concerning the life of the writer.
It is very likely that Ængus died in his beloved retreat at Disert-beagh; but, according to the metrical Life, he was buried at Clonenagh. He had laboured long and travelled far to illustrate the history of the saints of his native land; and now that long day’s work was done, and he lay down to sleep in the bosom of the dear and holy scenes of his childhood. He knew that the pious brotherhood of Clonenagh would not forget to chant for many a year the requiem for his soul’s repose; and that the ‘pure cold Nore’ of his youthful love would breathe its gentle murmurs near his grave for ever. But his voice has not been stilled by the flight of centuries—even now he speaks to us on earth in his writings, and he prays for us amongst the choirs of angels and saints in heaven.
Clonenagh suffered so much during the Danish wars that it gradually fell away from its ancient importance, and in the twelfth century sank to the rank of a parochial church. At present it is only a green mound associated with a historic name.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SCHOOL OF GLENDALOUGH.
| “By that lake, whose gloomy shore Skylark never warbles o’er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young St. Kevin stole to sleep.” —Moore. |