ll, an oracle[134] which prophesied truth?

There is a strange, wild old legend preserved in the Book of Leinster,
which indicates that even in ancient Erinn the awful throes of nature
were felt which were manifested in so many places, and in such various
ways, during those dark hours when the Son of God hung upon the accursed
tree for the redemption of His guilty creatures.

This tale or legend is called the _Aideadh Chonchobair_. It is one of
that class of narratives known under the generic title of Historical
Tragedies, or Deaths. The hero, Conor Mac Nessa, was King of Ulster at
the period of the Incarnation of our Lord. His succession to the throne
was rather a fortuity than the result of hereditary claim. Fergus Mac
Nessa was rightfully king at the time; but Conor's father having died
while he was yet an infant, Fergus, then the reigning monarch, proposed
marriage to his mother when the youth was about fifteen, and only
obtained the consent of the celebrated beauty on the strange condition
that he should hand over the sovereignty of Ulster to her son for a
year. The monarch complied, glad to secure the object of his affections
on any terms. Conor, young as he was, governed with such wisdom and
discretion as to win all hearts; and when the assigned period had
arrived, the Ulster men positively refused to permit Fergus to resume
his rightful dignity. After much contention the matter was settled
definitely in favour of the young monarch, and Fergus satisfied himself
with still retaining the wife for whose sake he had willingly made such
sacrifices. Conor continued to give ample proofs of the wisdom of his
people's decision. Under his government the noble Knights of the Royal
Branch sprang up in Ulster, and made themselves famous both in field and
court.

It was usual in those barbarous times, whenever a distinguished enemy
was killed in battle, to cleave open his head, and to make a ball of the
brains by mixing them with lime, which was then dried, and preserved as
a trophy of the warrior's valour. Some of these balls were preserved in
the royal palace at Emania. One, that was specially prized, passed
accidentally into the hands of a famous Connaught champion, who found a
treacherous opportunity of throwing it at Conor, while he was displaying
himself, according to the custom of the times, to the ladies of an
opposing army, who had followed their lords to the scene of action. The
ball lodged in the king's skull, and