It was now the year of our Lord 593, and thirty years had our earth performed her revolution round the brilliant orb which illumines her, since Columba had settled in that lonely and sequestered isle. He had often prayed to the Most High that, at the termination of such a period, he might pass from this exile, and he now looked with confidence for the grant of his request. But, while indulging in this delightful anticipation, blessed angels were sent to apprise him that, in consideration of the prayers poured forth by the British and Scottish churches, it was decreed in heaven that he should yet remain four years more on earth. The tidings cost him many tears, but they were accompanied with perfect submission to the divine will, the blessed man at once renouncing his anxiety "to be then dissolved, and go to Christ," since such was His good pleasure. With greater earnestness than ever, did he now labor to consummate his perfection, and attain more and greater sanctity. We have already spoken of his corporal austerity, but this was only one virtue, Columba was eminent in all. One thing particularly distinguished him, great cheerfulness of countenance and mildness of disposition; and this is no small matter, for nothing edifies us more than that those who profess to serve God, should be cordially sweet and amiable to men. Columba, too, was a great lover of labor; he knew not what it was to be unemployed, but continually occupied himself, when not engrossed by missionary duties, in "praying, reading, writing," as the devout Kempis says, and "in doing something for the common good." And these were greater things than the gifts of prophecy and miracles which he possessed in an eminent degree.