anything like it, living though he did, probably, two
thousand years later than that Eocaidh Mac Elathan, whenever he did
live. There is a _nodus_ here needing a god to solve it.

Returning now to what would most likely take place after the interment
of a hero, we may well imagine that the size of his tomb would be in
proportion to the love which he inspired, where no accidental causes
would interfere with the gratification of that feeling. Of one of his
heroes, Ossian, sings--

"We made his cairn great and high
Like a king's."

After that there would be periodical meetings in his honour, the
celebration of games, solemn recitations by bards, singing his aristeia
[Transcriber's Note: Greek in the original]. Gradually the new wine
would burst the old bottles. The ever-active, eager-loving imagination
would behold the champion grown to heroic proportions, the favourite of
the gods, the performer of superhuman feats. The tomb, which was once
commensurate with the love and reverence which he inspired, would seem
so now no longer. The tribal bards, wandering or attending the great
fairs and assemblies, would disperse among strangers and neighbours a
knowledge of his renown. In the same cemetery or neighbourhood their
might be other tombs of heroes now forgotten, while he, whose fame was
in every bardic mouth in all that region, was honoured only with a tomb
no greater than theirs. The mere king or champion, grown into a topical
hero, would need a greater tomb.

Ere long again, owing to the bardic fraternity, who, though coming from
Innishowen or Cape Clear, formed a single community, the topical hero
would, in some cases, where his character was such as would excite
deeper reverence and greater fame, grow into a national hero, and a
still nobler tomb be required, in order that the visible memorial might
prove commensurate with the imaginative conception.

Now all this time the periodic celebrations, the games, and
lamentations, and songs would be assuming a more solemn character. Awe
would more and more mingle with the other feelings inspired by his name.
Certain rites and a certain ritual would attend those annual games
and lamentations, which would formerly not have been suitable, and
eventually, when the hero, slowly drawing nearer through generations,
if not centuries, at last reached Tir-na-n-Og, and was received into
the family of the gods, a religious feeling of a different nature would
mingle with the