However orthodox the Irish of the present day may be esteemed,
there must have been a fair amount of mysticism in the past amongst
so imaginative a race. Perhaps this quality brought them into some
disrepute with the Church, down to the time when the Pope gave
their country to the Norman King of England, in order to bring the
people into more consistent faith. Even St. Bernard, in his Life of
Malachy, referred to the Irish as "Pagans, while calling themselves
Christians." Who were the Druids? This question has agitated the
minds of the learned for a long period; and various, as well as
contradictory, have been the replies. Tradition preserves their
memory as of a pious and superior race, prominently associated with
the British Isles and France, and, in a lesser degree, with
Belgium, Holland, Germany, and the lands of Scandinavia. Much
romance has been long attached to them. We hear their chants in the
Stone Circles. We listen to the heaven-inspired utterances of the
Archdruid, as be stands on the capstone of a cromlech, in the eye
of the sun, surrounded by the white-robed throng, with the bowed
worshippers afar. We see the golden sickle reverently cutting off
the sacred mistletoe. We follow, in imagination, the solemn
procession, headed by the cross-bearer. We look under the old oak
at the aged Druid, instructing disciples in mystic lore, in verses
never to be committed to writing. We gaze upon the assembly of
kings and chieftains, before whom the wise men debate upon some
points of legislation.
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