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IMPRESSIONS  OF  IRELAND 


BY 

Very  Rev.  PROFESSOR  ERNESTO  BUONAIUTI,  D,D.,  Pli,D. 
ROME 


Translated  irom  the  Italian  by 
REV.  BERNARD  MAGUIRE,  C.C. 
Anglinamtillen  V7est,  Co.  Mona^flian. 


Dublii. 

K  n.  GILL  &  SON,  Ltd. 

1913 


/     / 


/ 


IMPRESSIONS    OF    IRELAND 


lAiPRESSIONS  or  IRELAND 


BV 

Very  Rev.  Professor  Ernesto  Buonaiuti,  D.D.,  Ph.D. 
•     Rome 


Translated  jrom  the  Italian  by 

Rev.  Bernard  Maguire,  C.C. 

AUGHNAMULLEN    WeST,     Co.    MoNAGHAN. 


M.  H.  GILL   &    SON,  LTD. 
1913 


DA 
QUO 


PRIN'lED   AND    BOUND 


IN    IRELAND 
BY 


M.    H.    GILL   &    SON,    LTD. 
50  Upper  O'Connell   Street,  Dublin 


ONSLi  LIBRARY 
BOSTON  CXXLEGE 


IMPRESSIONS   OF    IRELAND 

CHAPTER  I 

The  Resurrection  of  a  People 

'*  The  heroes  thou  weepest  are  dead  ; 
Can  they  live  again  ?  " 

— 5.  Patrick  to  Ossian  in  the  Lays  of  Ossian 

Every  year  in  August  when  the  warm  sun  gilds 
the  rich  cornfields  of  the  Golden  Vale,  between 
Cashel  and  Limerick,  and  when  the  groves  of 
Killarney  and  Glengarriff  are  in  the  full  splendour  of 
their  vegetation,  the  GaeUc  League,  founded  to  promote 
the  Celtic  Revival,  holds  its  general  assembly — its 
Solemn  Oireachtas — in  Dublin.  Delegates  from  the 
various  branches  throughout  the  country  report  on  the 
progress  of  the  movement.  Single  and  group  competi- 
tions, in  singing,  dancing  and  Irish  History  are  held  ; 
officers  are  appointed,  and  an  attractive  programme  of 
festivities,  distinctly  Celtic,  is  gone  through,  with  the 
object  of  interesting  in  the  movement  an  ever-increasing 
number  of  Irishmen,  especially  from  among  the  natives 
of  Dublin — a  city,  upon  which  English  influence  has 
been  longest  and  most  successfully  exercised.  The 
congress  is  a  real  balancing  up  of  the  progress  annually 
achieved  by  Ireland,  in  the  work  of  restoring  her  lan- 
guage and  customs,  and,  very  opportunely,  is  held  at  a 
season,  when  her  verdant  plains' and  "'uplands,  rich  in 
pasture  and  flowers,  renew  their  perennial  bloom. 


The  foreigner  who  happens  to  be  present  at  the 
opening  of  the  festival,  carries  away  a  deep  impression. 
What  amazes  him,  beyond  all  else,  is  the  rapid  success 
which  has  followed  the  Gaelic  League  in  its  propaganda. 
Started  under  very  modest  auspices  in  1893  by  a  few 
Celtic  enthusiasts  (Douglas  Hyde,  Eoghan  O'Growney, 
John  MacNeill,  David  Comyn,  and  O'Neill  Russell),  and 
thanks  to  an  apostolate  of  organizers,  men  of  clear 
intellect,  and  iron  will  (such  as  Thomas  Concannon)  it 
speedily  succeeded  in  firing  the  entire  country  with  its 
own  ideals,  viz.,  the  preservation  of  the  Gaelic  tongue, 
wherever  it  is  still  spoken,  and  its  complete  restoration 
in  districts  where  it  is  already  dead  or  dying.  It  is 
the  aim  of  the  League  that  the  600,000  Irishmen  who 
can  speak  English  or  Gaelic,  with  equal  ease,  as  well  as 
the  20,000  inhabitants  of  the  West  who  are  almost 
completely  ignorant  of  English,  should  not  forget  the 
language  of  their  fathers,  nor  allow  it  to  yield  one  inch 
of  ground  to  the  tongue  of  the  invader.  It  aims,  like- 
wise, at  restoring  to  currency  the  rich  native  idiom,  in 
those  parts  where  long  centuries  of  slow  English  pene- 
tration— specially  active. in  the  last  hundred  years — 
have  completely  driven  it  out.  The  results  already 
attained  have  exceeded  all  expectation.  To-day  from 
Belfast  to  Cork,  from  Sligo  to  Waterford,  no  Irishman  is 
ashamed  of  his  mother  tongue.  It  is  rather  those  who 
cannot  speak  it,  that  are  ashamed  of  the  fact.  In  the 
scholastic  year  1908-1909  more  than  46,000  children 
passed  successfully  the  Irish  examination  in  the  primary 
schools ;  5814 — I.e.  more  than  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  total 
number  of  pupils — in  the  secondary.  Lastly,  as  the 
result  of  a  determined  agitation  in  the  country,  the 
national   language — medium   of   the   mythological   and 


epic  cycles,  from  which,  on  the  testimony  of  G.  Paris, 
are  drawn  the  most  exquisite  fictions  of  medieval 
chivalry,  from  Tristan  to  Lohengrin— has  been  assigned 
a  privileged  status  in  the  programme  of  the  new  National 
University.  This  same  GaeHc  League,  has,  with 
prodigious  rapidity,  multiplied  its  offshoots  in  the  country, 
and  counts  to-day  not  less  than  800  affiliated  branches, 
some  of  them  amongst  the  Irish  of  America  and  Australia. 
These,  however,  are  mere  figures,  and  give  no  adequate 
idea  of  the  enormous  work  accomplished  by  the  League 
in  organising  popular  open-air  festivals,  establishing 
schools  and  fostering  colleges,  such  as  that  of  St.  Enda 
(in  which  the  form  of  education  and  general  usages, 
even  to  the  costumes  worn  by  the  young  students  and 
the  system  of  g5^mnastics  adopted,  are  distinctly  Irish), 
in  founding  bursaries  and  promoting  native  industries  ; 
thus  restoring  to  the  gaze  of  contemporary  Irishmen, 
whom  England  is  making  her  last  efforts  to  assimilate, 
the  glorious  past  of  the  venerated  Island  of  Saints  and 
Scholars,  that  stretches  westwards  towards  the  New 
World,  whither  she  has  sent  so  many  of  her  sons,  after 
having  sent  eastwards  over  the  continent  the  pioneers 
of  Christian  civilisation  and  Christian  sanctity  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  For  it  is  to  be  observed  that  while  the 
revival  of  the  Irish  Language  is  the  principal,  it  is  not 
the  sole,  aim  of  the  League.  Free  from  political  and 
rehgious  prejudice  ahke,  its  aim  is  to  fuse  the  rabid 
Orangemen  of  Ulster,  and  the  devout  Catholics  of 
Connacht,  in  a  united  struggle  for  the  intellectual  and 
economic  regeneration  of  their  common  country,  which 
has  been  so  long  and  so  bitterly  tried. 

This  year  during  Oireachtas  week  visitors  may  have 
studied  a  very  successful  industrial  exhibition  of  native 


8 

products  (notably  Kilkenny  furniture,  products  of  the 
Irish  Tobacco  Co.,  native  Irish  costumes,  exquisite 
jewellery  from  Dublin)  side  by  side  with  a  promising 
display  of  the  works  of  Irish  painters.  Amongst  these, 
Lavery,  a  triumphant  figure  of  English  pavilions  at  all 
International  exhibitions,  did  not  appear.  But  young 
artists,  such  as  Duffy,  Miller  and  Saunders  found  an 
honoured  place. 

The  Gaehc  League,  however,  starts  with  the  principle 
that  the  economic  revival  can  only  be  accomplished  by 
means  of  a  thorough  spiritual  regeneration  ;  and  with 
this  view  the  foreigner  who  visits  Ireland  must  signify 
his  hearty  concurrence.  England  has  proclaimed  to 
the  four  winds  that  it  was  she  who  introduced  into  the 
sister  island  the  settled  forms  of  civilised  life,  to  which 
Ireland  had  been  a  stranger  ;  and  Irishmen  have  seen 
themselves  regarded  for  centuries,  as  belonging  to  an 
inferior  race,  inherently  incapable  of  organising  itself 
into  an  enduring  social  structure.  How  England  has 
vilified  the  tribal  system  !  x\nd  yet,  under  its  shade, 
Ireland  has  produced  her  bards  and  her  lawgivers,  her 
cenobites  and  her  schools.  Irish  sentiment  bitterly  felt 
the  rude  shock  of  long,  calculating  disdain.  Timid, 
suspicious,  lacking  faith  in  herself,  mistrusting  innova- 
tion, shy  of  initiative,  sorrowful  and  resigned,  with 
passive  listlessness,  or  weeping  in  silence,  she  allowed 
the  industry,  the  commerce,  the  habits  of  life,  and  even 
the  language  of  the  country  of  Cromwell,  to  sweep  over 
the  land,  which  had  witnessed  the  proud  sway  of  the 
O'Connors  and  the  wealth  and  affluence  of  the  Maguires. 

Now,  if  Ireland  is  to  be  a  nation,  if  she  is  ever  to  walk 
securely  in  the  paths  of  agricultural,  industrial  and 
commercial  progress,  she  must  arouse  within  herself  the 


consciousness  of  her  latent  capacities,  and,  drinking 
deep  at  the  pure  fountains  of  her  glorious  history, 
eliminate  from  her  lethargic  spirit  the  habits  of  pessimism 
and  torpor,  which  centuries  of  persecution  have  im- 
pressed upon  it.  What  would  it  profit  her,  if  to-morrow 
she  succeeded  in  wresting  Home  Rule  from  England, 
and  in  opening  once  more  the  doors  of  her  parhament  in 
Dublin,  whilst  she  retained  not,  whole  and  entire,  the 
abiding  consciousness  of  her  ethnical  personality,  and 
of  her  storied  destiny  ?  Hence,  the  Gaelic  League,  with 
an  exquisite  sense  of  the  true  meaning  of  education,  aims 
at  restoring  everything  in  the  local  traditions  that  may 
contribute  to  the  elevation  of  public  spirit — from  the 
old  Celtic  songs  with  their  impassioned  modulations, 
their  long  melancholy  cadences,  and  faithful  rhythm — • 
sonorous  murmurs  of  a  soul  in  love  or  anguish,  down  to 
the  characteristic  national  dances.  Hence  a  pleiad  of 
scholars,  led  by  Mrs.  Green,  who  has  undertaken  to 
accompHsh  for  Ireland  the  historical  task  accompHshed 
for  England  by  her  husband,  are  devoting  themselves  to 
the  work  of  exhuming  from  the  immense  treasury  of 
Irish  manuscripts  lying  unpublished  in  all  the  principal 
libraries  of  Europe — precious  heritage  left  by  wandering 
or  exiled  monks — the  eloquent  traces  of  the  past  econo- 
mic and  moral  grandeur  of  the  country. 

This  year  at  the  Oireachtas,  I  witnessed  some  re- 
markable test  performances  of  Irish  music,  executed  by 
Mr.  Darley,  an  accompHshed  violinist.  The  sweetness 
of. certain  lullabies,  and  the  violence  of  a  malediction  on 
Cromwell,  are  still  humming  in  my  ears.  I  was  present 
too,  at  the  birth  of  a  new  society,  formed  for  the  pubHca- 
tion  of  ancient  Irish  music,  in  support  of  which  Mr. 
Hardebeck,     a    German    who    has    become    hibernior 


10 

hihernicis  ipsis,  made  some  very  interesting  observa- 
tions, upon  the  relations  that  exist  between  Irish  folk- 
song and  Gregorian  chant.  According  to  him,  the  latter 
is  the  offspring  of  the  former.  This  theory  appears  far 
from  improbable,  when  one  considers  the  Irish  national- 
ity of  monks  such  as  St.  Gall,  who  were  in  their  time 
distinguished  exponents  of  musical  culture  on  the 
Gregorian  model. 

But  the  most  attractive  item  of  this  year's  festival  was 
a  reproduction  of  the  National  Assembly  at  Tara — the 
Sacred  Hill  of  Irish  patriotism — according  to  the  descrip- 
tion given  in  the  book  of  Ua-Chonbhail.  The  festival  of 
Tara,  instituted  according  to  tradition  by  Ollamh  Fodla 
in  the  eighth  century  before  Christ,  brought  together, 
every  three  years,  under  the  presidency  of  the  Ard-Righ, 
the  sub-kings,  local  chieftains,  distinguished  representa- 
tives of  the  cultured  classes,  historians,  jurists,  and  poets 
of  the  country.  At  one  of  these  festivals,  according  to 
the  Tripartite  Life,  St.  Patrick  was  present,  and  achieved 
the  most  signal  triumph  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
preaching. 

The  Feis  of  this  year  reproduced  the  assembly  of  King 
Cormac  (grandson  of  Conn  of  the  Hundred  Battles) 
who  lived  in  the  third  century  of  the  Christian  era.  In 
the  Rotunda  gardens  in  Dublin,  delegates  of  the  League, 
and  visitors,  were  present  for  the  first  time,  at  the  re- 
production of  this  most  characteristic  national  custom. 
Two  hundred  persons  all  dressed  in  the  costumes  of 
the  period,  took  part.  Maidens  in  white,  with  their  fajr, 
glossy  tresses,  formed  the  choir  and  group  of  dancers. 
Troops  of  boys,  as  pages,  followed  the  kings  of  Leinster, 
Ulster,  Munster,  and  Connacht,  who  had  come  to 
settle  questions  of  pubhc  interest,  and  do  homage  to 


II 

the  Ard-Righ — the  great  Cormac,  "  under  whose  rule," 
says  the  old  chronicle,  "the  earth  was  fertile  in  corn 
and  fruits,  the  sea  yielded  abundance  of  fish,  and  peace, 
opulence,  and  joy  reigned  over  all  the  land.'  Next  in 
order  to  the  petty  kings,  and  taking  their  places  at 
either  side  of  the  throne,  come  the  druids,  who  light  the 
Sacred  Fire  in  the  centre  of  the  open  space.  Then  all 
those  present,  with  the  exception  of  the  sovereigns, 
plunge  their  torches  in  this  fire,  so  full  of  symbolic 
meaning,  hghted  by  the  representatives  of  art  and 
culture,  that  they  may  catch  the  Sacred  Flame.  Hold- 
ing aloft  their  torches  thus  Hghted,  all  arrange  themselves 
in  a  semi-circle  ;  and  then  when  the  Hghts,  symmetrically 
disposed,  flash  out  in  the  obscurity  of  the  park,  a 
numerous  band  of  young  girls  trip  through  the  mazes 
of  a  compHcated  dance,  full  of  regularity  and  suggestive- 
ness,  around  the  druid's  fire,  which  is  now  left  to 
smoulder  peacefully,  after  having  imparted  heat  and 
light  to  the  torches  of  the  assembly.  Thus,  in  the  most 
ancient  musters  of  the  culture  and  chivalry  of  the  nation, 
on  the  hill  of  Tara,  did  the  race  commemorate  the 
glories  of  its  intellectual  and  social  life.  When  the 
dance  is  over,  the  royal  cortege  retires,  singing  hymns  to 
the  prosperity  of  the  nation.  The  public  still  linger  in 
the  park,  subdued  by  the  eloquence  of  the  scene.  The 
noises  of  the  city,  heard  faintly  in  the  distance,  seem  to 
die  away  on  the  railings  of  the  garden,  in  which  is  cele- 
brated this  strange  evocation  of  the  past  of  a  race,  now 
at  last  after  centuries  of  torpor,  apparently  rising  from 
its  bed  of  lethargy.  I  felt  the  profound  significance  of 
this  wonderful,  this  unique,  reconstruction — unique 
because  of  its  singular  educative  value.  We,  too,  to- 
morrow, might  organise  a  procession  in  the  Forum,  and 


12 


pass  over  the  traces  of  the  Via  Sacra,  a  simulacrum  of 
the  triumph  of  Augustus.  It  might  furnish  a  cinemato- 
graph company  with  material  for  a  film,  or  please  the 
dilettante  student  of  Roman  History.  The  pubHc  would 
derive  no  spiritual  profit  from  the  spectacle.  The 
historical  reproductions  of  the  Gaelic  League,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  not  mere  experiments  in  art.  The 
Ireland  of  to-day  feels  acutely  that  the  springs  of  her 
greatness  lie  in  the  past,  and  that  by  restoring  ancestral 
traditions,  blending  them  naturally  with  existing  social 
forms,  and  by  drawing  strength  and  dignity  from  the 
memories  of  pre-Christian  and  medieval  Ireland,  before 
the  Anglo-Norman  had  deformed  and  strangled  her, 
she  may  yet  discover  her  true  self,  and  start  life  afresh. 
For  the  revival  of  the  Gaelic  language,  in  addition  to 
being  an  exercise  spiritually  profitable,  is  awakening 
social  echoes,  that,  at  first  sight,  one  would  never  dream 
of.  We  have  here,  in  fact,  a  race  that  through  the 
instrumentality  of  language  and  song,  is  seeking  to 
recover  those  national  characteristics,  that  have  made 
her  great  in  the  past.  A  lady  student  of  Irish,  confessed 
to  me  that  she  felt  a  new  personality,  racy  of  the  soil, 
taking  possession  of  her,  and  supplanting  the  old  ;  and 
an  amiable  young  Western  priest,  member  of  an  intensely 
patriotic  family,  confided  to  me  the  particulars  of  similar 
personal  experiences,  in  regard  to  the  spiritual  effect 
produced  on  him  by  the  study  of  Gaelic  literature.  He 
Hkewise  drew  my  attention  to  the  curious  fact,  that  the 
language  revival  in  Ireland  is  accompanied  wdth  an 
intensification  of  missionary  zeal — a  re-awakening  of 
that  ardour  for  winning  converts  to  the  faith,  for  which 
Ireland  is  renowned  in  the  religious  history  of  the  old 
and  the  new  world. 


13 

It  appears  to  me  the  most  salient  feature  of  the 
Gaehc  revival  is  this  :  Ireland  numbers  less  than  five 
milHons  of  a  population  in  the  motherland  ;  but  she 
can  reckon  close  on  thirty  milHons  of  children  dispersed 
throughout  the  world — in  America,  Australia,  South 
Africa,  India,  in  a  word  wherever  the  English  flag  or 
the  EngHsh  language  is  found.  If  to-morrow  a  re- 
awakened national  consciousness  brought  together  the 
scattered  fragments  of  this  wonderfully  prolific  race, 
and  infused  into  them  a  soul  of  unity,  what  singular 
effects  might  not  be  looked  for  in  the  world  ! 

Sixty  years  ago  Renan,  in  a  brilHant  essay  on  the 
poetry  of  the  Celtic  races,  put  himself  this  question 
"  Who  knows  what  the  Celtic  race,  which  has  dreamed 
with  St.  Brendan  of  mystic  Atlantides,  might  not  ac- 
comphsh  in  the  field  of  intellect,  if  she  once  made  bold 
to  figure  in  the  world,  and  subject  her  rich  and  profound 
nature  to  the  exigencies  of  modern  thought !  " 

The  question  recurred  forcibly  to  my  mind  that  calm 
evening  in  August,  as  I  saw  unfolded  before  me  in  the 
suggestive  shadows  of  the  park,  the  reproduction  of  the 
Tara  assembly  ;  and,  foreigner  though  I  was,  I  had  a 
vague  sense  that  something  notable  for  civiHsation  and 
CathoHcism  was  maturing  in  the  soul  of  this  Irish  race, 
so  gentle  and  so  pure,  so  vehement  and  so  dreamy,  thus 
taking  up  the  volume  of  her  noble  story,  reading  therein 
the  glorious  pages  of  her  ancient  past,  and  bent  on 
adding  other  pages  no  less  brilliant. 


CHAPTER  II 

St.  Patrick's  Purgatory 

In  that  suggestive  "  Golden  Legend,"  which  was  not 
without  its  influence  on  the  spiritual  elaboration  of  the 
Divine  Comedy,  the  holy  Giacomo  de  Voragine  relates 
how  St.  Patrick,  for  the  purpose  of  confirming  his 
preaching,  asked  God  to  reveal  himself  by  some  miracu- 
lous sign.  And  "  then  by  divine  command  he  marked 
out  with  his  staff  a  wide  circle,  and  straightway  the 
ground  enclosed  subsided  and  a  very  deep  opening 
appeared.  It  was  thereupon  revealed  to  St.  Patrick 
that  this  opening  led  to  a  purgatory  ;  that  all  such  as 
went  down  into  it  would  have  atoned  for  their  sins  and 
be  dispensed  from  the  pains  of  purgatory  after  their 
death  ;  but  that  the  majority  of  those  who  entered 
would  never  be  able  to  get  out."  The  good  narrator  of 
the  legend  goes  on  to  tell  how  sundry  persons  went 
down  into  the  opening  but  never  returned,  and  that 
one,  Niccolo,  was  privileged  to  come  out  unhurt,  after 
having  had  a  fearful  vision  of  the  other  world. 

That  clear  August  morning  on  which  I  left  Enniskillen, 
the  Irish  Lucerne,  and,  crossing  the  fertile  County  of 
Fermanagh  along  the  shores  of  blue  Lough  Erne,  made 
towards  Pettigo,  thence  to  pursue  my  journey  to  the 
celebrated  Purgatory,  I  had,  in  sooth,  no  intention  of 
trying  my  luck  at  the  opening ;  for  I  had  taken  a 
return  ticket.  Besides,  however  much  I  had  desired  to 
follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  lucky  explorer  of  the 
under  world,   I  could  not  have'  satisfied  my  craving. 

14 


15 

Many  years,  ago  the  grotto  which  gave  access  to  the 
mysterious  regions  of  the  suffering  souls,  was,  as  a 
precaution  against  superstition,  filled  up ;  and  a  little 
mound  on  which  the  pilgrims  assemble  before  evening 
devotions,  now  stands  above  it.  My  intention  rather, 
was,  following  the  suggestion  of  D'Arcy  Magee,  to 
submit  to  observation,  at  one  of  the  most  venerated 
centres  of  Irish  piety,  whither  from  June  to  August  of 
every  year  thousands  of  pilgrims  congregate,  "  the 
power  of  faith." 

The  tiuth  is,  to  have  clear  evidence  of  the  deep  religious 
feeling  of  the  Irish  Celt,  one  need  not  traverse  the  island 
from  east  to  west,  and  reach  the  tiny  islet  on  Lough 
Derg  in  rugged  Donegal,  to  which  tradition  points  as 
evidence  of  St.  Patrick's  miracle.  You  have  but  to  set 
foot  on  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  after  disembarking  in  the 
morning  at  Kingstown,  to  repair  to  a  Catholic  church 
in  Dublin.  There  you  can  estimate  the  abyss  that,  in 
a  spiritual  sense,  divides  England,  which  you  have  left 
the  day  before,  from  Ireland,  which  you  have  reached 
after  scarce  nine  hours  journey  from  London,  by  Holy- 
head and  across  St.  George's  Channel.  You  feel  at 
once  you  are  in  the  true  land  of  faith.  On  any  day  in 
the  week,  at  any  hour  in  the  morning,  every  church, 
whether  it  be  the  aristocratic  pro-cathedral,  or  the 
Franciscan  church  along  the  Liffey,  or  again  that  of 
the  Dominicans  in  one  of  the  poorest  quarters  of  the 
city  is  crowded  with  people,  in  an  attitude  of  the  deepest 
reverence.  The  Catholic  churches  of  Dublin  are  not 
aesthetically  the  finest  in  the  country.  There  are  better 
in  small  provincial  towns,  such  as  Sligo,  Omagh, 
Killamey.  In  Dublin,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  modesty 
of  the  Catholic  churches  were  meant  to  express  a  more 


i6 

eloquent  protest  against  the  English  invasion,  which 
has  transformed  into  Protestant  churches  those  magnifi- 
cent old  monuments  of  Catholicism  in  the  capital — St. 
Patrick's  and  Christ  church.  But  aesthetic  considera- 
tions are  here  out  of  the  question.  The  most  seductive 
spectacle  for  the  visitor  who  comes  from  abroad  is  not 
the  cupola  or  the  fagade,  but  the  praying  throng,  above 
which  hovers,  in  sensible  form,  the  vivid  and  abiding 
realisation  of  the  divine. 

If  then  leaving  Dublin,  which  after  all  is  Anglicised 
to  a  certain  degree,  you  journey  through  green  Erin, 
and  visit  the  western  and  southern  counties  ;  if  you 
stop  at  the  lesser  cities  of  Cork,  Limerick,  Galway,  and 
Westport,  and  everywhere  scrutinise  the  manifestations 
of  rehgious  life — the  work  accomplished  by  the  Catholic 
priest,  the  Christian  perfume  that  breathes  from  the 
daily  life  of  the  people — you  are  not  long  in  satisfying 
yourself  that  you  are  in  the  heart  of  the  most  Catholic 
nation  in  the  world — aye,  in  these  days  when  the  en- 
grossing cares  of  material  life  have  everywhere  so  ab- 
sorbed human  energies,  as  utterly  to  stifle  the  energy 
of  the  spirit,  perhaps  the  one  truly  Catholic  nation  on 
the  earth. 

We  Latins  might  easily  be  induced  to  believe  that  so 
deep  a  realisation  of  the  Gospel  must  be  accompanied 
by  the  most  fanatical  bigotry.  Nothing  of  the  kind. 
The  Irishman,  unless  by  a  very  rare  exception,  is  no 
bigot.  He  abhors  the  studied  ostentation  of  his  faith, 
feels  the  most  cordial  antipathy  towards  every  practice 
that  savours  of  fetishism  or  superstition,  reahses  by 
intuition  the  superiority  of  God's  law  over  that  of  man, 
and  has  a  heart  open  to  the  widest  tolerance. 

Were  I  to  venture  an  impression  of  my  own  I  should 


17 

say  that  Irish  faith  has  within  itself  a  preventive  against 
any  pharisaical  deformity,  because  it  reposes  on  a 
mental  attitude  sensibly  different  from  that  which  as 
a  rule  inspires  the  profession  of  religion  in  the  Latin 
countries.  Our  attachment  to  rehgion  is,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  in  very  notable  measure  determined  by  the 
thoughts  of  the  other  world,  and  the  desire  of  divine 
grace.  The  Irish  Celt's  religion  on  the  contrary  springs 
from  the  actual  sense  of  the  divine,  which  accompanies, 
nurtures  and  sustains  his  daily  hfe  ;  from  a  famihar 
need  of  the  supernatural. 

Besides  this,  after  ages  of  unexampled  sufferings, 
cheerfully  borne  for  the  faith  of  his  fathers,  the  Irish- 
man sees,  in  Christian  practices,  the  most  urgent  and  at 
the  same  time  the  sweetest  duty  that  devolves  on  social 
hfe.  In  old  Gaehc  the  church  is  called  "  people's  house." 
In  fine,  the  dogmas  of  revelation,  the  teaching  authority 
of  the  church,  the  actual  presence  of  God,  are  for  the 
Irishman,  not  cold  intellectual  formulae,  but  truths 
incarnated  in  practice,  and  tangible  in  the  actions  of 
daily  hfe.  In  Donegal  the  poor  peasant  who  speaks 
Gaelic  while  he  addresses  everyone  else  in  the  second 
person  singular,  addresses  the  priest  in  the  second  person 
plural,  because  the  priest  is  not  alone  ;  God  is  in  him. 
Such  a  pinnacle  of  reverence,  one  may  easily  understand, 
constitutes  a  perilous  occasion  for  Catholic  priests,  to 
abuse  the  piety  of  the  faithful.  But  anyone  who  has 
lived  in  intimate  association  with  ecclesiastical  life  in 
Ireland,  must  acknowledge  that  the  priest  responds 
conscientiously  to  the  people's  trust,  and  ever  prompt 
to  their  call  for  the  legitimate  assertion  of  their  rights, 
never  turns  to  his  own  profit  the  veneration  of  which 
he  is  the  object. 


i8 

But  if  the  spectacle  of  deep  faith  everywhere  meets 
the  stranger  in  Ireland,  it  is  there  in  the  little  island 
in  Lough  Derg,  sacred  to  the  revered  memory  of  St. 
Patrick,  that  it  presents  itself  in  all  its  singularity. 
For  my  own  part  I  have  never  regretted  the  journey. 
From  Pettigo  one  of  the  characteristic  Irish  jaunting 
cars,  with  its  high  wheels  and  side  seats,  took  us  to  the 
lake,  which,  set  in  its  waving  coronal  of  hills,  breaks 
suddenly  on  the  pilgrim's  view,  and  reveals  to  him  at  a 
glance  the  island  of  penance,  about  two  hundred  yards 
from  the  shore.  My  travelling  companions,  evidently 
ladies  and  gentlemxcn  of  high  social  rank,  were  touched 
with  emotion  and  prayed  devoutly. 

I  have  seen  other  religious  pilgrimages.  But  what  a 
difference  from  the  pilgrimage  of  Lough  Derg  !  In  our 
countries  there  is  something  restless  and  disorderly  in 
the  behaviour  of  the  crowds  that  wend  their  way,  singing 
hymns  to  Loretto  or  to  Pompeii ;  and  the  goal  of  their 
travel  seems  not  rarely  as  if  summoning  to  a  festive 
gathering.  \Mth  the  Irishmen  who,  in  June,  July  and 
August,  from  every  county  in  the  land,  come  to  visit 
the  little  island  in  Donegal,  a  spirit  of  recollectedness 
and  severe  penance  is  the  predominant  note.  They  wear 
on  their  very  countenances  the  consciousness  of  an  in- 
estimable religious  rite,  discharged  in  communion  with 
the  entire  race,  which  ever  since  the  days  of  St.  Patrick, 
has  reverently  walked  in  his  footsteps,  in  the  pious 
expectation  that,  on  the  last  day,  he  will  be  their  own 
judge. 

Having  crossed  the  little  expanse  of  lake  and  disem- 
barked on  Station  Island,  the  pilgrims  take  off  their 
boots  and  forthwith  commence  the  prescribed  practices. 
These  are  neither  few  nor  easy.     They  must  visit  the 


19 

two  churches  of  the  island,  make  numerous  circuits  of 
the  principal  one  of  the  two,  extend  their  arms  several 
times  on  the  cross  of  St.  Brigid  (a  very  old  Celtic  de- 
votional rite) ,  and  in  due  order  make  prolonged  stations 
in  the  penitential  cells  or  beds  of  St.  Brigid,  St.  Brendan, 
St.  Catherine,  and  St.  Columba.  Lastly,  the  exercises, 
which  are  to  be  repeated  on  three  consecutive  days, 
are  brought  to  a  close  near  a  rude  cross,  which  bears 
the  name  of  St.  Patrick. 

With  these  pious  exercises  the  pilgrims  combine  a 
strict  fast,  and  the  plain  accommodation*  of  the  common 
hospice.  And  here,  in  the  levelling  tendency  of  a 
regime  imposed  on  all  alike,  consists  perhaps  the  most 
beneficial  social  effect  of  the  pilgrimage.  The  rich 
merchant  of  Cork  or  Tralee,  the  well-to-do  farmer  of 
Ulster,  the  Dublin  tradesman,  the  poor  fisherman  of 
Gal  way,  are  all  reduced  to  a  common  level  in  presence 
of  the  ritual  imposed  by  the  devotion  of  the  place. 
For  my  own  part  I  have  never  seen  a  Christian  practice 
that  exceeds  this  in  instilHng  a  sense  of  equahty  among 
men. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  read  into  the  souls  of  the 
pilgrims,  and  I  know  not  whether  in  the  secrets  of  their 
hearts  this  visit  to  the  rude  island  in  Donegal  really 
means  to  them  escape  from  purgatory  after  their  deaths. 
The  fact  remains  that  as  they  turn  homewards  to  the 
four  points  of  the  compass,  they  carry  away  a  deep 
content  of  soul,  and  all  contribute  to  sustain  the  fame 
of  the  place — venerated  and  loved  to-day  as  it  was  in 
the  time  of  the  pious  Ligurian  Dominican  Jacobo  de 
Voragine. 

Returning  in  the  evening,  on  foot,  towards  Pettigo, 
*  "  Discomforts  "  is  the  equivalent  of  the  Italian. 


20 

over  a  melancholy  series  of  hills  dotted  here  and  there 
with  little  cottages,  and  patches  of  meadow,  in  which 
splendid  types  of  peasants,  men  and  women  (descend- 
ants perhaps  of  the  royal  houses  of  O'Connor  and 
O'Donnell)  I  reflected  how  solidly  St.  Patrick  had 
fashioned  the  soul  of  his  people  to  Christianity.  A 
week  before,  in  the  National  Museum  at  Dublin,  I  had 
contemplated  with  emotion  that  little  iron  bell,  which 
a  very  old  legend  declares  was  used  by  St.  Patrick  to 
summon  the  faithful,  and  that  in  the  eleventh  century 
King  Donnell  O'Loughlin  had  it  covered  with  a  mag- 
nificent chased  casing.  What  national  apostle  has 
rung  for  his  converts  a  bell  whose  summons  has  been 
more  widely  obeyed  ?  The  rude  relic  which  the  old 
book  of  Cuana  alleges  to  have  been  buried  with  St. 
Patrick,  exhumed  by  Columba  and  deposited  for 
centuries  at  Armagh,  now  rests  in  the  Kildare  Street 
Museum  at  Dublin,  in  the  glass  case  where  many  old 
Irish  bells  are  brought  together.  The  custodian  politely 
offers  you  a  lens  that  you  may  the  better  see  and  admire 
the  exquisite  gilt  tracery  of  the  cover.  But  you  are 
totally  distracted.  No,  the  bell  is  not  silent.  Its  peal, 
the  voice  of  St.  Patrick,  still  reverberates  in  the  world, 
and  thirty  millions  of'  Irishmen  bow  devoutly  to  its 
chimes. 

In  what  rich  measure,  too,  has  our  Latin  Catholicism 
been  lulled  by  that  chime  ?  How  much  has  not  the 
Christianity  of  St.  Patrick,  the  faith  and  piety  of  the 
Irish  Celt,  deposited  in  the  religious  experience  of  the 
Continent  ?  Catholicism  in  its  exterior  organisation  is 
a  Mediterranean  phenomenon.  But  the  important  part 
played  by  Celtic  Christianity  in  the  formation  of  Catholic 
ritual  and  devotion,  has  never  yet  been  appreciated. 


21 

Only  yesterday  a  very  subtle  French  psychologist 
declared  with  justice  that  the  researches  of  the  future 
will  show  how  the  imagination  of  the  Irish  race,  so 
intimately  modelled  on  the  Gospel,  is  one  of  the  essential 
factors  in  the  religious  evolution  of  the  West. 


CHAPTER    III 

The  Present  and  the  Future  of  Irish  Politics. 

Erin,  Oh  Erin  !  Thy  winter  is  passed, 
And  the  hope  that  lived  through  it,  shall  blossom  at  last. 

— T.  Moore. 

Not  many  days  have  passed  since  the  stormy  session 
of  last  July,  in  the  course  of  which  Mr.  Asquith  was 
subjected  to  violent  insult  by  the  Tories,  because,  as 
was  now  evident  he  had  pledged  himself  to  the  Irish 
Party  to  introduce  a  Home  Rule  Bill—  that  is,  a  bill  to 
secure  for  Ireland  legislative  autonomy,  exercised  in  a 
national  parhament  elected  by  the  people,  and  em- 
powered to  regulate  the  domestic  affairs  of  the  country, 
imperial  questions  being  reserved  to  the  Parliament  at 
Westminster.  I  may  say  candidty,  I  had  expected  to 
find  greater  enthusiasm  for  the  approaching  abolition 
of  that  Act  of  Union,  which,  for  a  hundred  years  has 
been  the  nightmare  of  pubhc  life  in  Ireland.  I  do  not 
say  that  the  parhamentary  policy  of  Mr.  Redmond  and 
his  numerous  party  has  not  a  strong  following  in  the 
country.  If  you  look  up,  in  The  Leader,  the  standing 
list  of  subscriptions,  you  will  see  that  from  every  parish 
in  the  country,  generous  contributions  flow  in  to  swell 
the  funds  of  the  party.  At  all  events,  it  is  impossible 
to  discover  that  attitude  of  impatient  expectation, 
begotten  of  mingled  joy  and  fear,  which  one  might  look 
to  find  in  a  country  on  the  eve  of  realising  her  long- 
cherished  dreams.     The  friends  of  the  party  seek  to 

22 


23 

explain  the  fact  by  pointing  out  that  to-day  the  desire 
for  autonomy  is  less  keen  than  it  was  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago,  because  the  trend  of  English  politics  has 
materially  changed,  and  the  change  has  been  to  the 
advantage  of  Ireland.  The  explanation  is  not  without 
its  basis  of  fact.  Ireland  is  no  longer  the  Cinderella  of 
the  United  Kingdom  subjected  to  all  the  petty  annoy- 
ances and  mortifications  of  English  rule.  The  singular 
vicissitudes  of  parliamentary  life,  have  placed  in  the 
hands  of  her  deputies  to  Westminster,  formidable 
weapons  of  combat  ;  and  the  island  beyond  St.  George's 
Channel,  has,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years,  won  reforms 
of  vast  importance.  I  may  mention  the  Local  Govern- 
ment and  Land  Purchase  Acts.  When  one  reflects  that 
some  of  the  fiercest  battles  recorded  in  the  modern 
history  of  Liberal  politics  in  England  have  been  won 
thanks  to  the  almost  unanimous  support  of  the  Irish 
party,  one  cannot  help  pointing  to  the  relentless  nemesis, 
which  has  assigned  to  Ireland  the  task  of  abolishing  the 
cherished  privileges  of  that  House  of  Lords,  from 
which  has  ever  proceeded  the  most  obstinate  opposition 
to  the  redress  of  her  political  and  religious  grievances. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  the  above  explanation  is  not 
exhaustive.  When,  to-day,  in  the  best  informed  centres 
of  Dublin,  and  in  the  small  but  industrious  County  towns 
of  the  midlands,  as  well  as  of  the  South  and  West,  you 
may  hear  harsh  criticisms  of  the  Irish  Party,  and  observe 
on  the  face  of  the  speaker  an  expression  of  ill-concealed 
doubt  on  the  subject  of  Home  Rule  ;  and  when  the 
bellicose  policy  of  the  \  oung  Ireland  party,  of  which  the 
Sinn  Feiners  appear  to  be  the  heirs,  has  suddenly 
reappeared,  and  is  making  some  headway  in  the  country, 
the  cause  is  not  to  be  sought  merely  in  the  improved 


24 

condition  of  the  people,  and  in  the  Hkehhood  of  a 
permanent  understanding  with  England.  True  it  is 
that  England  has  recently  set  in  motion  very  signal 
measures  of  reform  in  Ireland — partial  and  tardy 
reparation  for  centuries  of  impoverishment.  I  have 
already  mentioned  the  Local  Government  and  Land 
Purchase  Acts  ;  and  may  here  add  the  measures  passed 
to  extend  the  operations  of  the  Congested  Districts 
Board,  and  the  act  establishing  the  New  National 
University,  which  has  just  opened  its  doors  in  Dubhn, 
and  is  looked  forward  to  as  destined  eventually  to  rival 
the  hated  Trinity.  Many  reforms,  especially  those  of 
an  economic  character,  have  signally  ameliorated  the 
conditions  of  life  in  Ireland.  But  how  much  in  this 
department  still  remains  to  be  done  ! 

When  I  reflect  that  Ireland  possesses  the  European 
ports  that  lie  nearest  to  America- — those  of  Galway, 
Clifden,  Westport — that  she  has  others,  like  that  of  Tralee, 
in  which  vessels  of  very  large  tonnage  can  enter,  dock  and 
unload  ;  that  she  has  splendid  navigable  rivers — the 
Shannon  whose  waters  bathe  the  Norman  castle  of 
Limerick,  the  Liffey  which  flows  through  the  capital, 
the  Lee  with  Cork  on  its  banks,  the  Foyle  which  receives 
the  finished  products  from  the  smoky  factories  of 
Derry  ;  the  Lagan  which  tells  of  the  marvellous  growth 
of  Belfast — that  she  could  develop  enormous  hydraulic 
power  ;  that  she  possesses  vast  tracts  of  peat ;  that  her 
immense  expanses  of  pasture  land  are  unequalled  in  the 
world — when  I  reflect  on  all  this, '  as  I  stand  on  the 
summit  of  a  hill  near  Clifden  looking  out  over  the  bay, 
on  which  a  few  fishing-boats  may  be  seen  skimming 
the  waves,  I  realise,  with  an  acute  sense  of  pain,  what 
Ireland  is  compared  with  what  she  might  be. 


25 

We  are,  it  is  true,  in  the  initial  stages  of  a  r^^ival ; 
but  this  is  confined  to  agriculture  and  home  industries. 
Horace  Plunkett,  by  his  propaganda  in  favour  of  rural 
credit  societies,  and  by  the  establishment  of  co-operative 
creameries,  which  now  display  their  modest  chimneys 
on  the  outskirts  of  every  Irish  village,  has  much  contri- 
buted to  this.  But  if  we  leave  out  the  favoured  regions 
of  Belfast,  Derry,  Limerick,  Cork,  ^¥aterford  and  Wex- 
ford, no  symptoms  can  be  observed  of  a  promising 
industrial  and  commercial  activity,  which  in  any  case 
would  encounter  insurmountable  obstacles  in  the 
monstrous  attitude  of  the  railway  companies. 

Now,  the  Liberals  with  smiles  on  their  faces  have 
come  to  the  Irish  Party,  and  have  said  to  them,  with  an 
air  of  candour  :  "  Help  us  in  reforming  the  Lords,  and 
in  carrying  our  budget  ;  in  exchange,  we  will  give  you 
the  coveted  measure  of  Home  Rule,  and  you  can  proceed 
to  set  the  affairs  of  your  house  in  order."  Mr.  Redmond 
and  his  friends  have  closed  with  the  offer.  The  country 
is  slow  to  brand  them  as  simpletons  ;  bat  it  has  its 
misgivings.  There  is  an  old  Irish  proverb  which  says  : 
"  A  dog  s  grin,  an  Englishman's  laugh ! "  Is  the 
popular  philosophy,  crystallised  in  the  above  eloquent 
aphorism,  about  to  be  falsified  at  last  ?  Meanwhile, 
along  with  the  mirage  of  Home  Rule,  which  a  schism 
in  the  Liberal  Party  might  defeat,  there  has  been 
accepted  by  the  Irish  Party,  and  safely  passed  into  law, 
a  budget,  which  imposes  a  heavy  tax  on  alcohoHc 
drinks,  and  thus  hits  Ireland  and  her  producers  and 
consumers  of  whiskey  particularly  hard.  It  is  true 
Irishmen  have  hit  back,  by  increased  earnestness  in 
the  temperance  crusade,  so  as  not  in  the  net  result  to 
pay  an  increase  of  taxation.     Ireland,  be  it  remarked, 


26 

is  the  only  country  in  the  world  where  every  problem, 
whether  economic  or  administrative,  immediately 
assumes  a  more  or  less  moral  tinge.  Is  it  alwaj^s  lawful 
to  block  the  inroads  of  taxation  by  having  recourse  to 
tactics  of  abstinence  ? 

Lady  Clanricarde  once  said  to  an  Englishman  :  "  You 
have  always  been  as  a  garden  wall  interposed  between 
us  and  the  sun ! "  Many  Irishmen  are  now  asking 
themselves,  somewhat  sceptically :  "Is  the  wall 
tottering  ?  "  They  have  scant  faith  in  the  attractive 
prospect  opened  out  to  them  by  the  Liberal  Party.  Is 
this  excess  of  pessimism  ?     I  should  be  slow  to  say  it  is. 

Thus,  the  policy  of  the  Irish  Parliamentary  Party, 
and  the  promised  measure  of  Home  Rule,  give  rise  to  a 
dilemma  which  is  very  trying  to  the  Irish  spirit. 

For  seven  centuries — from  the  very  day,  in  fact,  on 
which  Henry  II.,  armed  with  a  papal  bull,  (authentic 
or  otherwise),  crossed  St.  George's  Channel,  and  asserted 
the  sovereignty  of  England  over  the  lesser  island — Ire- 
land has  never  abandoned  the  struggle  for  national 
independence — a  struggle  of  two  civihsations,  two 
souls,  rather  than  of  two  states.  To-day,  Mr.  J.  E. 
Redmond  alone — perhaps  not  even  he — knows  what  form 
of  Home  Rule  the  Liberal  Government  is  disposed  to 
grant.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  on  any  hypothesis, 
Ireland  can  never  have  power  to  control  her  own  political 
and  financial  relations  with  other  countries,  unless  on 
the  condition  that  she  enter  unreservedly  the  mighty 
current  of  British  political  life.  And  in  that  case, 
would  not  Home  Rule  stand  for  a  base  transaction,  a 
tame  acquiescence,  which,  if  sincere,  would  be  equivalent 
to  the  final  abandonment  of  the  majestic  tradition  of 
the  Celt,  and  his  utter  absorption  in  the  triumphant 


27 

life  of  England  ?     The  soul  of  Erin  perceives  the  dark 
dilemma,  and  recoils  on  itself. in  painful  uncertainty. 

Before  three  years  have  elapsed,  it  may  be,  the  old 
Parhament  House  in  Dubhn,  that  once  rang  with  the 
powerful  eloquence  of  Grattan,  will  open  its  doors  once 
more  to  the  representatives  of  the  Irish  nation.  What 
are  to  be  the  limitations  of  their  legislative  power  ? 
For  one  thing,  the  Customs  will  be  outside  their  control. 
And  then,  what  benefit  to  industry,  which  has  so  much 
need  of  protection,  to  commerce,  which  demands  liberal 
expansion  and  generous  subsidies,  will  accrue,  from  their 
presence  at  home  ?  What,  then,  does  all  the  bitter 
struggle  come  to,  or  what  does  Ireland  gain  by  accepting 
the  position  of  a  minor  planet  in  the  great  British 
system,  if,  for  example,  she  is  powerless  to  prevent  the 
price  of  those  commodities  which  she  largely  exports, 
such  as  butter  and  eggs,  from  falHng  suddenly  in  the 
markets  of  Dublin  or  Cork,  merely  because  a  number  of 
men  on  strike  have  brought  railway  traffic  to  a  standstill 
at  Liverpool  ? 

The  friends  of  the  Parliamentary  Party  do  not  seek 
to  evade  the  force  of  these  observations,  but  reply  that 
there  is  no  better  course  open.  An  acute  professor  of 
science  in  Dublin  wittily  remarked  that,  "  to  demolish 
a  wall  you  require  a  better  implement  than  your  own 
head."  True,  and  Ireland  is  physically  unable  to 
extricate  herself  from  the  meshes  of  the  English  political 
and  economic  system. 

The  first  thing  responsible  for  this  complex  Irish 
problem  is  Nature  herself,  which  has  set  this  little 
island,  of  perennial  verdure — rich  in  rivers  and  inlets, 
corn  and  fruits,  with  a  superficies  of  less  than  100,000 
square    kilometres,    and    a    population     of   less    than 


28 

^(    Vnit    three    hours'     sail 
distance   of    but    t^  ^^^^ 


5.000,000-at    a    distance  ^     ou        ^^^.^^   ^^ 

from  the   larger  -l^"J:r^^,,\nd  a  POP^I^^-^  °* 
than  200,000  square  krlom^r^s         ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^. 

close  on  40.ooo.ooo.  and  jf^^^and  ^^^  ,,,,„a  thing 
,^ries  of  hfe  for  all  her  chiWr  ^^  ^^^  ^^„ 

responsible  is /-tory^^^-h  ha      ^^  ^^^^^.^^^^^  ^^^, 
islands   two  distmc    races  o  ^^  ^^^^  ,„ 

they  cannot  -d-  f  ^  *,  *  this  connection  points 
irreconcilable  conflict.     Ken     ,  ^^^^.^^^^  „f 

out  that  a  race  endowed  -th  a^g^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^ 
commonsense    cannot    get  ^^^^^^_  ^^^^  ^^.^ 

1,33  richly  endowed     It  m&^P^^^  ^^^^^^,  aspect 

been  violently  Pl^^^^'^'^f.        ^j,,  ^estion  arises:    if  in 
In  face  of  this  f  ^™  ^j^^^  million  inhabitants 
,840  when  Ireland  counted  ^^i  ^^  ^^  ^^^,_    f 

and  O'Connell  h^^^  them  in  the  ^^^^.^^^ 

in  those  memorable  days  01  g  J  ^^^^  ^^^^^^^ 
..hich  hundreds  of  ^^°"-\^^^^°^P,',ompl.shed,  the  de- 
then,  the  revolution  ^-f^''^^^^^  li  to-day  might 
populated  and  down^rodd  n  Ma  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^^,3 

perhaps  hope  to  find  her  V^^'^^^^^  ^^^  ^.ee-traders 
'^^^-^^^^rturfng   tot;     and    the   protectionist 

;L:£s:;i:S:^./ereco— ^^^ 

^  To-day,   Ireland  has   *«   ^^^^  ^^j^  ,,ftality  into  the 
moment,  and  keep  ever^«  ^-sh^^  ^^,  ,y 

life  of  the  country.    We  mu  ^^^ 


29 

almost  equal  dimensions.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Ireland 
exports  too  much  of  those  commodities  which  are 
required  for  the  decent  support  of  her  own  population. 
How  far  off  is  the  day  when  Ireland  imported  every 
article  of  luxury,  salt  and  iron  excepted,  in  exchange 
for  her  surplus  of  products,  and  her  people  were  well 
fed  and  well  clad  ! 

Are  those  days  ever  to  return  for  you,  wretched  but 
virtuous  fishermen  of  the  Claddagh  ;  for  you,  dock- 
labourers  ot  Dublin ;  and  you,  lonely  peasants  of 
Connemara  ? 

Much  progress,  certainly,  has  been  made  within 
recent  years,  and  the  outlook  is  hopeful.  But,  then, 
in  the  direction  of  progress,  which  is  the  better  path  ? 
Viewing  the  question  in  the  abstract,  and  having  regard 
to  the  incurable  antagonism  that  exists  between  Irish 
and  English  interests  and  ideals,  the  policy  of  Sinn  Fein 
would  appear  preferable.  But  politics,  like  history,  is 
not  an  algebraic  problem,  and  in  the  Irishman's  game  of 
chess,  the  practical  needs  of  the  moment  are  all- 
important.  Hence  it  is,  that  at  the  present  juncture 
a  generous  measure  of  credit  must  be  accorded  to  the 
Irish  Party  ;  the  more  so,  as  Home  Rule,  given  the 
many  psychological  factors  that  come  into  play  in  the 
Irish  problem,  so  far  from  signalising  the  end  of  the 
great  Anglo-Celtic  duel,  might  simply  mark  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  phase,  pregnant  with  incalculable 
consequences  for  both  combatants. 


3° 


ONE     HUNDRED     VOLUMES 

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Beatha  an  Athar  Tioboid,    Life  of  Fr.  Mathew  (in  Irish) 

by  J.  J.  O' Kelly.    With  an  exhaustive  Introduction  in 

English  by  Rev.  Fr.  Augustine,  O.S.F.C.  .  .10 

Duan    na    Nodlag.     "  A    Christmas  Carol."     Translated 

into  Irish  by  Rev.  P.  S.  Dinneen,  M.A  .  net     1     0 

Galloping  O'Hogan.     Romance  of  the  Days  of  Sarsfield.      1     0 
Irish  Legend  of  MacDonnell.     Archibald  McSparran        .      1     0 
Life  of  Blessed  Emil}^  Bicchieri.     Sister  M.  S.  MacCarthy     1     0 
Michael  Dwyer  ,  the  Insurgent  Captain.     Dr.  Campion      .      1     0 
National  and  Historical  Ballads  of  Ireland  .  .10 

Odile.     A  Tale  of  the  Commune.     Mrs.  Pentrill  .  .10 

Prince  and  Saviour.     Rosa  Mulholland    .  .  .10 

A  Hamper  of  Humour.     Sketches  of  Irish  Life.     'Liam  .      1     6 
Annunziata.     L.  S.  Oliver  ,  .  .  .16 

Dick  Massy.     T.  O'Neill  Russell  .  .  .16 

Donal  Dun  O'Byrne.     Denis  Holland       .  .  .16 

Esterina  Antinori.     Trans,  by  Lady  Herbert        .  .16 

Humours  of  Shanwalla.     Patrick  Archer  .  .16 

Leo  .  .  .  .  .  .16 

Mass  in  the  Mountains     .  .  .  .  .16 

Stephanie.     Louis  Veuillot  .  .  .  .16 

The  Smuggler's  Revenge.     Lady  Lentaigne  .  .16 

Chased  by  Wolves.     Trans,  by  H.  J.  Gill,  M.A.    .  .20 

Coiner's  Cave.     W.  Herchenbach  .  ,  .20 

Far  ley  es  of  Far  ley  e.     Rev.  T.  J.  Potter  .  .  .20 

Ferryman  of  the  Tiber.  ^  Mme.  De  La  Grange      .  .20 

Gems  for  the  Young.     Rosa  Mulholland  .  .20 

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Sir  Humphrey's  Trial,  or  The  Lesson  of  Life.    Rev.  T    J. 

Potter  .  .  .  .  ,  .20 


31 

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Told  in  the  Gloaming.     Josephine  Hannon  .  .20 

True  Hearts'  Trials.     T.  O'Neill  Russell  .  .20 

Without  Beauty.     Zenaide  Fleuroit         .  .  .20 

Laoi  Oisin.     Lay  of  Oisin  in  the  Land  of  Youth.    Edited 

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Little  Brian's  Trip  to  Dublin.     Rosa  Mulholland  .      2     0 

Little  Hunchback.     Countess  De  Segur  .  .20 

Martyrs  of  Castelfidardo.     Trans,  by  a  Pres.  Nun  .      2     0 

Percy  Grange      .  .  .  .  .  .20 

Rupert  Aubrey.     Historical  Tale  of  i68i  .  .20 

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Annals,  Anecdotes  and  Traditions  of  the  Irish  Parliament     2     6 
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English  as  we  Speak  it  in  Ireland.     Dr.  P,  W.  Joyce  net     2     6 
Eoghan  Paor.     A  novel  in  Irish.     P.  J.  O'Shea  net     2     6 

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Hermit  of  the  Rock.     Mrs.  J.  Sadlier      .  .  .26 

In  Sarsfield's  Days.     Miss  L.  MacManus  .  .26 

Irish  Fairy  Tales.     Edmund  Leamy         .  .  .26 

Irish  Readings.     A.  M.  and  T.  D.  Sullivan  .  .26 

Kathleen  Mavourneen.     Randal  MacDonnell       .  .26 

My  Sword  for  Patrick  Sarsfield.     Randal  MacDonnell     .      2     6 
Old  House  by  the  Boyne.     Mrs.  Sadlier  .  .26 

Sham  Squire,  or  The  Informers  of  '98.     Fitzpatrick         .      2     6. 
Shan  Van  Vocht.      James  Murphy  .  .  .26 

Soggarth  Aroon.     Rev.  J.  Guinan  .  .  net     2     6 

Story  of  Ireland.     A.  M.  Sullivan  .  . ,  .26 

Temptation  of  Nora  Leecroft.     Francis  Noble     .  .26 

Una's  Enterprise.     Nora  Tynan  O'Mahony  .  .26 

Wild  Rose  of  Lough  Gill.     P.  G.  Smyth  .  .26 

Wonders  of  Ireland.     Dr.  P.  W .  Joyce   .  .  net     2     6 

Duanaire   na   Macaomh.      The   Students'    Book  of  Irish 

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Leabhar     na     Laoitheadh.     An     excellent   selection     of 

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32 

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A  Fair  Emigrant.     Rosa  Mulholland        .               .  .36 

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An  Island  Parish.     Rev.  Joseph  Guinan                .  .36 

Armourer  of  Solingen.     Trans,  by  H.  J.  Gill,  M.A  .      8     6 

A  Striking  Contrast.     Clara  Mulholland                .  .36 

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Castle  of  Coetquin.     A.  W.  Chetewoode                 .  .36 

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Cid  Campeador.     Trans,  by  H.  J.  Gill,  M.A.         .  .36 

Cromwell  in  Ireland.     Rev.  Denis  Murphy            .  .36 

Curate  of  Kilcloon.     Rev.  J.  Guinan        .               .  .36 

Forge  of  Clohogue.     James  Murphy         .               .  .36 

For  the  Old  Land.     C.  J.  Kickham         .              .  .36 

Good  and  Pleasant  Readings.     H.  J.  Gill,  M.A.  .     3     6 
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John  Canada.     A.  W.  Chetewoode            .               .  .36 

Lectures  of  a  Certain  Professor.     Rev.  J.  Farrell  .      3     6 

Life  of  Our  Lord.     Rev.  H.  Rutter           .              .  .36 

Life  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.     Abbe  Orsini.               .  .36 

Light  of  the  West.     Lieut.-Gen.  Sir  W.  Butler     .  .36 

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Mirror  of  True  Womanhood.     Rev.  B.  O'Reilly  .  .36 

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Poems  of  J.  C.  Mangan.     O'Donoghue     .               .  net     3     6 

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