There is a very old legend that Ailill Inbanna, king of Connaught in the sixth century, earned heaven by his noble self-sacrifice in order to save his people. A bitter war was waged between him and the two princes Donall and Fergus, sons of the king of Ireland, till at last a decisive battle was fought between them at a place called Cúil-Conari, in the present county Mayo, in which Ailill was defeated. And at the end of the day, when he and his army were in full retreat, the king, sitting in his chariot in the midst of the flying multitude, said to his charioteer:--“Cast thine eyes back, I pray thee, and tell me if there is much killing of my people, and if the slayers are near us.” The charioteer did so, and said:--“The slaughter that is made on thy people is intolerable.” Then said the king:--“Not their own guilt, but my pride and unrighteousness it is that they are suffering for. Turn now the chariot and let me face the pursuers; for as their enmity is against me only, if I am slain it will be the redemption of many.” The chariot was accordingly turned round, and the king plunged amidst his foemen and was slain; on which the pursuit and slaughter ceased. That man, says the old legend, by giving up his life, in his repentance, to save his people, attained to the Lord’s peace. * * * * * In the old Irish Canon Law, there was a merciful provision to save the family of a dead man from destitution if he died in debt; namely, that certain specified valuable articles--such as a cow, a horse, a garment, a bed, etc.--belonged to the family, and could not be claimed by a creditor. * * * * * The yellow plague wrought dreadful havoc in Ireland--and indeed desolated all Europe--in the seventh century. In Ireland at least it appears to have attacked adults more than children, so that everywhere through the country numbers of little children, whose mothers and fathers had been carried off, were left helpless and starving. At this same time lived Ultan, the kindly bishop of Ardbraccan in Meath. It wrung his heart to witness these piteous scenes of human suffering all round him; and he took steps, so far as he was able, to relieve and save the little children. He collected all the orphan babes he could find, and brought them to his monastery; and procuring a great number of cows’ teats, and filling them with milk, he put them into the children’s mouths with his own hands, and thus contrived to feed the little creatures. The number increased daily, so that at last he had as many as 150; and as he was not able to do all the work himself, he had to call in others to assist him in his noble labour of love. It is proper to remark here that we find other examples in history of the use of a cow’s teat for milk-feeding, and that in Russia infants are often fed in this way.