The Evening Star WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1870.

Evening Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2391, 30 November 1870, Page 2

The Evening Star WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1870.

It is quite, a relief to turn from tire excitement and turmoil of political life to the legendary associations connected Avith St. Andrew’s Day. So long as this holiday is kept, the land which our Scotch fellow-colonists have left will be held in affectionate remembrance. Its hills and glens, its lochs, its villages, its towns, will bo recalled by those who have lived there ; and in the minds of their descendants, who havo never seen Scotland, and who perhaps never may, thoy will bo reminded of the race to which they belong. To those who aro not so intimately interested in the associations recalled by keeping St. Andrew's Day, these holidays remind them of the Europe they have left. Notwithstanding the outbursts of war, the record of which stands a foul blot upon

its civilisation, the very intensity and tenacity of its strifes ; the ingenuity with which modes of destruction are devised and carried into execution : the courage with which the prospect ot death is met and the most appalling dingers are encountered, prove the races with which we arc connected to be capable of the noblest effort and self-sacrifice, which only require to be directed to higher purposes to achieve the best results. These holidays arc connecting links between the Old World and the New, as well as between life in 1870 and the martyrs of the year 70. The legend of St. Andrew, however absurd when weighed by our matter-of-fact way of estimating things now-a-days, is not without it> charms. It may not exactly agree with the theory of those who hold that in bygone days men were better and wiser than they are now. Poetical as it it cannot now form part of the belief that enters into and influences everyday life ; but, divested of its poetry, it may tell us of the vast advance the world has made in knowledge, and in civil and religions liberty. There is plenty of room to mend ; but much has been gained since St. Andrew went on his missionary labors through Scythia and Achaia telling his strange doctrines, and bringing upon himself the vengeance of the civil powers for proclaiming truths that we in these days reap the benefit of in mutual toleration and equal laws. It was the fashion of our forefathers to claim a national property in these good old saints. It may not be very pleasant to think that those forefathers were very much like the Maoris in the barbarity of their modes of worship. Those of us who hail from England do not very much relish the remembrance of roasting men or children in wicker baskets as a religious ceremony. Perhaps neither English nor Scorch lock back with any pleasure to the time when bishops and witches were burnt for lisresy and witchcraft. Put there must bo a time in man’s history when something material is required to lead up to ideas beyond matter ; and so Scotland became connected with St. Andrew, not because of bis visit to it, but because some of his bones found their way there. Just as the people of Hawaii some fifty years ago preserved ivlics of Captain Cook, whom they had had killed and eaten, and deified thorn, the people of Patnc, in Achaia, took care of St. Andrew’s hones, whom they had crucified ; and Pordun, a Scottish historian, tells us that three hundred years afterwards Constantine ordered them to be disinterred, and taken as precious relics to Constantinople. Accordingly their transportation was entrusted to Keg ulus, an abbot, or it may be a bishop, of the Creek Church. But those bones were too valuable to be shut up in such a contracted sphere. There were other nations on the lookout for the blessings derivable from having the care of them, and an angel accordingly protested against such a monopoly to Kegulus three nights before they were sent on their journey. The consequence was the upper bone of one of the arms, three fingers of the right hand, and one of the knee-pans, were reserved for future direction. This Regulus at length obtained, and, spiritually guided, set out on a voyage, not Knowing where lie was to land. The voyage was long and tedious—how long we do not know, nor are we told of the perils nor perplexities of it. The name of the ship, the captain, nor the crew are on record. The log is lost, if ever there was one ; possibly the vessel may have been on a visit to the tin mines of Cornwall, and have been blown out of its course. At any rate, tradition says it was wrecked in the Bay of St, Andrew, and that Hungus, the King of the Piets, behaved most hospitably to the shipwrecked strangers. There Regulus preached, and shewed the precious relics. There King Huxous and bis people became converts ; there a Christian church was built, and on the shores of that bay, on which the. first Christian missionaries to Scotland stood, saved from the dangers of shipwreck, stands the City of St. Andrew’s. Of course there are controversialists who pronounce all this to bo an idle fable. We do not vouch for its truth ; but when those who have en joyed their jaunt to-day, read the Evunhvj Star as they sip their tea, they will not feel uninterested in the legend to which they owe the pleasure of the holiday. That is how St. Andrew became the tutelary saint of Scotland —that is how the Piets became Christians.