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 more secular
celebration of his memory, and his rath or cairn would assume in
their eyes a new character.

To an ardent imaginative people the complete extinction by death of
a much-loved hero would even at first be hardly possible. That the
tomb which held his ashes should be looked upon as the house of
the hero must have been, even shortly after his interment, a
prevailing sentiment, whether expressed or not. Also, the feeling
must have been present, that the hero in whose honour they
performed the annual games, and periodically chanted the
remembrance of whose achievements, saw and heard those things that
were done in his honour. But as the celebration became greater and
more solemn, this feeling would become more strong, and as the
tomb, from a small heap of stones or low mound, grew into an
enormous and imposing rath, the belief that this was the hero's
house, in which he invisibly dwelt, could not be avoided, even
before they ceased to regard him as a disembodied hero; and after
the hero had mingled with the divine clans, and was numbered
amongst the gods, the idea that the rath was a tomb could not
logically be entertained. As a god, was he not one of those who had
eaten of the food provided by Mananan, and therefore never died.
The rath would then become his house or temple. As matter of fact,
the bardic writings teem with this idea. From reason and
probability, we would with some certainty conclude that the great
tumulus of New Grange was the temple of some Irish god; but that it
was so, we know as a fact. The father and king of the gods is
alluded to as dwelling there, going out from thence, and returning