Nowhere more conspicuously than in Ireland have secular institutions determined the manner in which the Christian religion spread and increased. The introduction of that religion effected no social revolution; it introduced new ideas and a new profession, but society steadily remained in the primitive stage of tribal organisation for more than a thousand years after the island had become part of Christendom.[56]

Ireland was divided into a large number of small districts, each of which was owned by a tribe,[57] the aggregate of a number of clans or families which believed that they were descended from a common ancestor. At the head of the tribe was a “king,” who was elected from a certain family. Below the king were four social grades within the tribe. There were the nobles,[58] who were distinguished by the possession of land. These were the only members of the tribe, besides the king, who had land of their own. After them came those who had wealth in cattle and other movable property,[59] but were only tenants of the land on which they lived. Below these were freemen, who had no property either in soil or in cattle, but farmed lands for which they paid rent. The lowest grade consisted of herds and labourers of various kinds, who were not freemen, but were regarded as members of the tribe and entitled to its protection. There was also another class of slaves who did not belong to the tribe, consisting of strangers—such as fugitives, bought slaves, and captives. Patrick belonged to this class, fudirs as they were called, in the days of his bondage.

Originally all the land must have belonged to the tribe. But at the time with which we are concerned, part of the arable land was the private property of the king and the nobles. There were, however, certain restrictions on this proprietorship which show that, theoretically, all the land was still considered as in a certain sense tribal. The chief of these was that the proprietor could not alienate his land without the consent of the tribe.

The limits of these small tribal kingdoms can be still approximately traced, for they are represented, for the most part, by the baronies of the modern map, and the names of the baronies in many cases preserve the names of the tribes. The inspection of a map on which the baronies are marked will convey a general idea of the number and size of the small kingdoms which formed the political units of the island. These kingdoms varied greatly in size; the tribes varied in numbers and importance. But each kingdom, whether large or small, managed its own affairs. The self-government of the tribes, and the complicated organisation of the clans and families within them, were the most important and fundamental social facts. But the tribal units were grouped together loosely in a political organisation of an elaborate kind, consisting in degrees of overlordship.

Thus the king of Cashel was king over all the kingdoms of Munster; the under-kings owed him tribute and service in war, and he had certain obligations to them.[60] The king of Connaught and the king of Laigin held the same position in regard to the kings of those provinces, and the King of Tara exercised similar overlordship over the kings of Meath. But the king of Tara was also overlord of all the kings of Ireland, and his superior position was designated by the title “Árd-rí,” High King.

The kings of Cashel, Connaught, and Laigin are usually described as provincial kings. For the island was regarded as consisting of five provinces or “fifths.” Connaught, Mumen, and “Ultonia” corresponded, with some minor differences, to Connaught, Munster, and Ulster of the modern map; while Leinster represents the two remaining fifths, Laigin in the south and Meath in the north. But it does not appear that in historical times there was any king who held the same position in the province of Ulster which the king of Cashel held in Munster. The northern province consisted of three large kingdoms, which seem to have been wholly independent, Aileach, Oriel, and Ulaid.[61] The kings of these territories were all alike overlords of under-kings; they were all alike subject to the High King; but they were as independent of one another as they were of the king of Connaught. The king of Ulaid was not under the king of Aileach, as the king of Thomond or the king of Ossory was under the king of Cashel.[62]

Ireland then was organised, theoretically, in an ascending scale of kings and over-kings. There was the High King at the head of all. Below him were six over-kings, the king of Cashel, the king of Connaught, the king of Laigin, the king of Aileach, the king of Ulaid, and the king of Oriel. Below these were the tribal kings, but in some cases there were intermediate grades, kings who were overlords of several small territories. For example, several of the small kingdoms in north Munster formed an intermediate group, the kingdom of Thomond. It is clear that this system must have grown up by degrees through conquest, and one remarkable practice illustrates its origin. It was the habit of the over-kings to take hostages from the under-kings, as a surety for the fulfilment of their obligations. This was such an important feature of the political system that a house for the custody of hostages was an almost indispensable addition to a royal palace. The “mound of the hostages” is still shown at Tara.[63]

But though the general theory of the system is clear, it would be difficult to say how far it was a reality at any particular period, or how far the elaborate scheme of obligations and counter-obligations, binding on the kings of all ranks, was intended to be enforced. The ceaseless warfare which marks the annals of Ireland suggests that these bonds were a cause of trouble rather than a source of union.

Of the political relations existing in Ireland in the fifth century we know practically nothing. The most important fact seems to be that the descendants of King Eochaid,[64] and particularly the family of his son Niall, both of whom had been High Kings, were winning a decided preponderance in the northern half of the island. When Patrick came to Ireland, a son of Niall was on the throne of Tara; his cousin was king of Connaught; one of his sons gave an abiding name to a large territory in north Ulster;[65] other sons were kings of lesser kingdoms in Meath. Family connexions of this kind were no permanent, or even immediate, guarantee of union; but it is probable that at this time, through the predominance of his near kindred, a prudent High King, such as Loigaire, son of Niall, seems to have been, may have been able to exert more effectual and far-reaching influence than many of his forerunners and successors. We shall have occasion to observe that his reign seems to have been a relatively peaceful period, if such an epithet can be applied to any epoch of Irish history. Whatever may have been the measure of the High King’s authority, it was unquestionably desirable for the new bishop, in pursuing his designs, to secure his favour or neutrality. But the political situation and the mutual relations of the higher potentates had, we may fairly surmise, no decisive or serious effect on the prospects of the religion which was now about to become firmly established in the land. Those prospects depended mainly, if not entirely, upon gaining the tribal kings and the heads of families. The king of Ulidia, or the King of Ireland himself, might suffer or encourage the strange worship in his own immediate territory, might himself embrace the faith, but beyond that he could only recommend it; and though his example might indeed do much, he could not force any under-king and his tribe to tolerate the presence of a Christian community in their borders.

It was not political relations but the tribal system and economic conditions that claimed the study of a bishop who came not merely to make individual converts, but to build up a sacerdotal society. A church and a priesthood must have means of support, and in a country where wealth consisted in land and cattle it was plain that, if the church was to become a stable and powerful institution, its priests and ministers must have lands secured for their use. But land could be obtained only through the goodwill of those who possessed it, and therefore it was impossible to plant a church in any territory until some noble who owned a private estate had been persuaded to accept the Christian baptism and to make a grant of land for ecclesiastical use, with his tribe’s consent. The conversion of the landless classes, slaves, or farmers, or even the lords of herds, could not lead to the foundation of churches and the maintenance of sacerdotal institutions. The success of Patrick’s enterprise depended on the kings of the tribes and the chiefs of the clans.

There was another reason also why Christianity could not hope to make considerable progress until the heads of society had been converted. Strong tribal sentiment, expressed in the devotion of the tribesmen to the king of the tribe, of the clansmen to the chief of the clan, was the most powerful social bond; and while, if a chief accepted the new faith, his clan would generally follow his example, it was not likely that if he rejected it many of his followers would dissociate themselves from his action. Thus on every account the process of establishing the Christian worship and priesthood in Ireland must begin from above and not from below.

We know little of the religious beliefs and cults in Ireland which the Christian faith aspired to displace. If there was any one divinity who was revered and worshipped throughout the land it was probably the sun. There seem to have been no temples, but there were altars in the open air, and idols were worshipped, especially in the form of pillar-stones. Various gods and goddesses play a part in the tales of Irish mythology, but it is not known whether any of these beings was honoured by a cult. There was no priesthood, and it seems certain that there was no organised religion which could be described as national.

Heathenism of such a kind could oppose no formidable resistance to the weapons of such a force as the organised religion which had swept the Roman Empire. Heathenism is naturally tolerant; and, when there is no powerful sacerdotal order jealous of its privileges and monopoly, a new superstition is readily entertained. It must be admitted as probable that the morality which the Christian faith enjoins, and the hopes which it offers, would hardly have appealed to heathen peoples or taken possession of their minds if it had not engaged their imaginations by mysteries and rites. It was, above all, these mysterious rites—baptism, without which the body and soul were condemned to everlasting torment, and the mystical ceremony which is known as the Eucharist—that stamped the religion as genuine in the eyes of barbarians. And it is to be observed that Christianity, while it demanded that its converts should abandon heathen observances and heathen cults, did not require them to surrender their belief in the existence of the beings whom they were forbidden to worship. They were only required to regard those beings in a new light, as maleficent demons. For the Christians themselves, even the highest authorities in the Church, were as superstitious as the heathen. The belief in the sidhe, or fairies, which was universal in Ireland, was not affected by Christianity, and survives at the present day. Thus the spreading of the new religion was facilitated by the circumstance that it made no attempt to root out the heathen superstitions as intellectual absurdities, but only aimed at transcending and transforming them, so that fear of deities should be turned into hatred of demons.

The chief pretenders to the possession of wizardry and powers of divination in Ireland were the Druids,[66] who correspond, but not in all respects, to the Druids of Gaul. They joined to their supernatural lore innocent secular learning, skill in poetry, and knowledge of the laws and history of their country. They gave the kings advice and educated their children. The high value which was attached to their counsels rested naturally on their prophetic powers. They practised divination in various forms, with inscribed rods of yew, for instance, or by means of magic wheels.[67] They could raise the winds, cover the plains with darkness, create envelopes of vapour,[68] which rendered those who moved therein invisible. Though learned in things divine, they did not form a sacerdotal class; and in their religious functions they might be compared rather to augurs than to priests. It was their habit to shave their heads in front from ear to ear and to wear white garments. It was inevitable that these men should be unfriendly to the introduction of new beliefs which threatened their own position, since it condemned the practice of divination and those kindred arts on which their eminent power was based. But their opposition could not be effective, because they had no organisation.

The fact, then, that the Christian Church, by its recognition of demons as an actual power with which it had to cope, stood in this respect on the same intellectual plane as the heathen, was an advantage in the task of diffusing the religion. The belief in demons as a foe with which the Church had to deal was expressed officially in the institution of a clerical order called exorcists, whose duty it was, by means of formulae, to exorcise devils at baptism.[69] Patrick had exorcists in his train, and it was not unimportant that the Christian, going forth to persuade the heathen, had such equipments of superstition. He was able to meet the heathen sorcerer on common ground because he believed in the sorceries which he condemned.[70] He was as fully convinced as the pagan that the powers of magicians were real, but he knew that those powers were strictly limited, whereas the power of his own God was limitless. Patrick could never have said to an Irish wizard, as children of enlightenment would now say, “Your magic is imposture; your spells cannot really raise spirits or control the forces of nature; you cannot foretell what is to come.” He would have said, “Yes, you can do such miracles by the aid of evil powers, but those powers are subject to a good power whose religion I preach, and are impotent except through his permission.” This point of mental agreement between the Christian priest and the heathen whom he regarded as benighted, their common belief in the efficacy of sorcery, though they put different interpretations on its conditions,[71] was probably not an insignificant aid in the propagation of the Christian religion. It may be said, more generally, that if Christianity had offered to men only its new theological doctrine with the hope of immortal life and its new ethical ideals, if it had come simple and unadorned, without an armoury of mysteries, miracles, and rites, if it had risen to the height of rejecting magic not because it was wicked but because it was absurd, it could never have won half the world.

It was natural that the spread of new religious ideas should excite the misgivings of the Druids, but so long as the new doctrine was professed only here and there in isolated households, they could hardly gauge its force or estimate the danger. It is not unlikely that shortly before the coming of Palladius they awoke to the fact that a faith, opposed to their own interests, was gaining ground, for, at the same time, the Christian communities were discovering that they deserved and required a bishop and an ecclesiastical organisation. The apprehension of the Druids may be reflected in a prophecy attributed to the wizards of the High King. They foretold that a foreign doctrine would seduce the people, overthrow kings, and subvert the old order of things, and they designated the preacher of the doctrine in these oracular words:[72] “Adzehead will come with a crook-head staff; in his house, with hole-head robe, he will chant impiety from his table; from the front (eastern) part of his house all his household will respond, So be it, so be it.” It would not be legitimate to build any theory on an alleged prophecy, when we cannot control its date. But we may admit, without hesitation, that this ancient verse, which was assuredly composed by a pagan, contains nothing inconsistent with the tradition that it was current before the coming of Patrick. There is nothing to stamp it as an oracle post eventum. The knowledge which it shows of Christian usages was accessible to the Druids, inasmuch as Christianity was already known, had already won converts, in Ireland. And if, as we have seen reason to believe, the Christians of Ireland negotiated for the appointment of a bishop a year or two before the sending of Palladius, there would be no difficulty in supposing that the Druids at this juncture, aware that a leader was expected, expressed their apprehensions in this form. But whatever be the truth about the oracle, whether it circulated in the mouths of men before the appearance of Palladius and Patrick, or was first declared at a later period, it possesses historical significance as reflecting the agitation of heathenism, roused at length to alarm at the growth of the foreign worship.