Surely there was never a saint more loved and honored than he, nor one more identified with his adopted race. His name is given to many a son of Erin, and to daughters not a few. The shamrock, symbol of his preaching, is worn by the little and the great. The soldier wears it in his cap; the civilian on his breast. Songs and hymns are sung in the Saint's honor wherever the English tongue is spoken. And this is a Saint who lived more than one thousand, four hundred years ago in a little island in the extreme west of Europe. Who was Saint Patrick, to draw so enduring a love to himself? "The best argument for love is love," the sages say. "I loved them with a mother's love," he tells us. And charity, which is holy love, is the everlasting bond of eternal souls. We have no space to tell of Saint Patrick's labors in Ireland, of his preaching and miracles, his sweetness and humility. Besides, you know it all. Let us but learn this one great lesson - to love each other as Saint Patrick loved; then we shall win souls as that great Apostle won them in his green isle so long ago.
- taken from Light from the Altar, edited by Father James J McGovern, 1906