and her nuns hold it to this day, the land of Hy-Connell on the east
Shannon bank, at the roots of Luachra mountain.'

What a picture! One hopes that it may be true, for the sake of its
beauty and its pathos. The poor, savage, half-naked, and, I fear, on
the authority of St. Jerome and others, now and then cannibal Celts,
with their saffron scarfs, and skenes, and darts, and glibs of long
hair hanging over their hypo-gorillaceous visages, coming to the
prophet maiden, and asking her to take their land, for they could
make no decent use of it themselves; and look after them, body and
soul, for they could not look after themselves; and pray for them to
her God, for they did not know how to pray to Him themselves. If any
man shall regret that such an event happened to any savages on this
earth, I am, I confess, sorry for him.

St. Severinus, again, whom I have mentioned to you more than once:-
none of us can believe that he made a dead corpse (Silvinus the
priest, by name) sit up and talk with him on its road to burial.
None of us need believe that he stopped the plague at Vienna by his
prayers. None of us need attribute to anything but his sagacity the
Divine revelations whereby he predicted the destruction of a town for
its wickedness, and escaped thence, like Lot, alone; or by which he
discovered, during the famine of Vienna, that a certain rich widow
had much corn hidden in her cellars: but there are facts enough,
credible and undoubted, concerning St. Severinus, the apostle of
Austria, to make us trust that in him, too, wisdom was justified of
all her children.

You may remark, among the few words which have been as yet said of
St. Severinus, a destruction, a plague, and a famine. Those words