le of Irish story-telling, and not only into pagan
but also into Christian legend; for it was easy to change the old gods
into devils, to keep the demonic creatures as demons, to replace the
wise Druids by the priests and saints, and the wizards by the heretics
who gave themselves to sorcery. Thus the ancient supernaturalism of
the Irish has continued, with modern modifications, to the present
day. The body of thought is much the same as it was in the days of
Conor and Finn; the clothing is a bit different.

Another characteristic of the stories, especially in the mythological
period, is the barbaric brutality which appears in them. Curiously
mingled with this, in direct contrast, is their tenderness. These
extreme contrasts are common in the Celtic nature. A Gael, whether of
Ireland or the Western Isles, will pass in a short time from the
wildest spirits, dancing and singing and drinking, into deep and grim
depression--the child of the present, whether in love or war; and in
the tales of Ireland there is a similar contrast between their
brutality and their tenderness. The sudden fierce jealousy and the
pitiless cruelty of their stepmother to the children of Lir is set
over against the exquisite tenderness of Fionnuala, which pervades the
story like an air from heaven. The noble tenderness of Deirdre, of
Naisi and his brothers, in life and death, to one another, is lovelier
in contrast with the savage and treacherous revenge of Conor. The
great pitifulness of Cuchulain's fight with his dear friend Ferdia,
whom he is compelled to slay; the crowning tenderness of Emer's
recollective love in song before she dies on Cuchulain's dead body,
are in full contrast with the savage hard-heartedness and cruelties of
Maev, and with the ruthless slaughters Cuchulain made of his foes, out
of which he seems often to pass, as it were, in a moment, into
tenderness and gracious speech. Even Finn, false for once to his
constant courtesy, revenges himself on Dermot so pitilessly that both
his son and grandson cry shame upon him.

Of course this barbaric cruelty is common to all early periods in
every nation; and, whenever fierce passion is aroused, to civilised
nations also. What is remarkable in the Irish tales is the
contemporary tenderness. The Vikings were as savage as the Irish, but
the savagery is not mingled with the Irish tenderness. At last, when
we pass from the Hero Cycle into the Cycle of Finn, there is scarcely
any of the anc