O'Connors, Munster that of the O'Briens, Leinster of the McMurroughs,
and Ulster of the O'Neills, who were also in theory over-kings, or, as
the native word was, Ard-Reaghs of the entire island.

[Illustration: DOORWAY OF MAGHERA CHURCH, LONDONDERRY.]

Considering what a stout fighting race they proved in later
ages--fighting often when submission would have been the wiser
policy--it is curious that in early days these O'Neills or Hy-Nials seem
to have been but a supine race. For centuries they were titular kings of
Ireland, yet during all that time they seem never to have tried to
transform their faint, shadowy sceptre into a real and active one.
Malachy or Melachlin, the rival of Brian Boru, seems to have been the
most energetic of the race, yet he allowed the sceptre to be plucked
from his hands with an ease which, judging by the imperfect light shed
by the chroniclers over the transaction, seems to be almost
unaccountable.

It is difficult to say how far that light, for which the Irish
monasteries were then celebrated, extended to the people of the island
at large. With one exception, little that can be called cultivation is,
it must be owned, discoverable, indeed long centuries after this Irish
chieftains we know were innocent of the power of signing their own
names. That exception was in the case of music, which seems to have been
loved and studied from the first. As far back as we can see him the
Irish Celt was celebrated for his love of music. In one of the earliest
extant annals a _Cruit_, or stringed harp, is described as belonging to
the Dashda, or Druid chieftain. It was square in form, and possessed
powers wholly or partly miraculous. One of its strings, we are told,
moved people to tears, another to laughter. A harp in Trinity College,