| 
1883 ] : 259 { Mooney. 
The pagan Irish wer accustomed to bring home from the battlefield the 
heads of their slain enemies. The brains wer then taken out, mixd with 
lime and formd into a ball, which was hardend by exposure to the sun, 
and was afterward exhibited on public occasions as an evidence of bravery 
and a trophy of victory. There is an old legend that Mesgedhra, King of 
Leinster, lost his life in an engagement with the forces of Ulster, who 
took out the brains from the head and prepared them in this manner. But 
there was dread in Ulster, for a prophecy had gon forth that the dead 
Mesgedhra should yet avenge himself upon the men of Ulster. The brain 
ball afterward fel into the hands of the Connaught men, one of whom, 
placing it ina sling, threw it with such force at the king of Ulster that it 
was buried two-thirds of its depth in his forehead. The royal physician 
examind the wound and told him that to remove the ball would be instant 
death, but that he might liv for many years by abstaining from any undue 
excitement which might tend to loosen it. There was no appeal, and the 
king was forced to forego the battlefield, the chase and the banquet-hall, 
and become a solitary recluse. The years went on until one day, while 
sitting in lonely musing, an awful terror came over the king as he saw the 
noonday brightness suddenly darkend, while a single flash of lightning 
darted through the gloom and a peal of thunder shook the palace to its 
foundation, He sent for his druid to learn the meaning of the awful won- 
der, and was told that at that moment the Son of God had expired upon 
the cross. The druid went on to tel of the Savior’s love, of the great 
atonement and of the agonizing death upon the cross, and how, even at 
the last, He prayed, not for justice or vengeance, but for mercy for his 
enemies. 
‘‘ With a bound from his seat rose King Conor, the red flush of rage on his face, 
Fast he ran through the hall for his weapons, and snatching his sword from its place, 
He rushed to the woods, striking wildly at boughs that dropped down with each blow, 
And he cried : ‘ Were I midst the vile rabble, I’d cleave them to earth even so! 
With the strokes of a high King of Erin, the whirls of my keen-tempered sword, 
I would save from their horrible fury that mild and that merciful Lord.’ 
His frame shook and heaved with emotion; the brain ball leaped forth from his head, 
And commending his soul to that Saviour, King Conor Mac Nessa fell dead.’ * 
In treating of the funeral customs of modern Ireland it must be stated 
at the outset that most of the beliefs and practices described ar rapidly 
dying out and ar now almost unknown to the younger generation in many 
parts of the country. They ar stil fresh in the memory of the older peo- 
ple, however, and ar yet in ful force in the remoter districts along the 
west coast, especially in Connemara. The decay of these customs is due 
largely to the rapid spread of education, which has taught the people the 
folly of many of the old beliefs, while the stirring political events of the 
last forty years hav left them little time for the observance of former cere- 
monies. Another cause is the general introduction of hearses and other 
wheeld vehicles, which hav to a great extent done away with “walking 
* Death of King Conor Mac Nessa, by T. D. Sullivan. 
