786
AN GAOḊAL.
can't have his way, at least United Ireland, that
could do so much for the Irish national ideal, does
little except discredit it, by holding up English
literature and English authors to admiration in its
brilliant editorials, that bristle with quotations
from Shakespeare, Milton, Byron and Tennyson.
All the three papers, United Ireland, the Free¬
man's Journal and the Nation, could very easily
give one column of Irish and its literal translation
in the next column in English. They could thus
preserve the beautiful folk lore and delicious Irish
songs that are so fast vanishing with much else
that was most beautiful in Ireland.
Not long ago some one proposed in the Nation
that the reports of the "suppressed branches” of
the League should be published in its columns in
Irish: of course no action was taken on the mat¬
ter. This prompts one to ask are the Parnellite
party and the National League opposed to the
preservation of the Irish language and literature,
and to the idea of distinctive Irish nationality?
But good signs are arising on the dark horizon
of Irish indifference. The people are beginning to
inquire whither have we been going? They are
even taking courage to speak out, and locate the
blame even when it falls on the heads of the clergy.
This is a great step in advance. No sooner has
Father Ulic Burke passed away than the people
begin to be conscious that this quiet Connacht
priest has done more for the life of the Irish na¬
tion than all the belauded politicians put together.
I append the following letter from the Dublin
Nation just arrived.
[The pith of the Nation letter, signed by "Eir¬
ionach,” is that the Irish "Are becoming every
year less and less Irish, less moral, less Catholic
less simple mindeed and religious, less poetical,
more selflsh and more materialized,” Ed]
I have to say about this noble letter, that I sub¬
scribe to every word written by the writer. I, too,
have lived a good while in Ireland, have traveled
considerably through it, and have had the best op¬
portunity for studying three generations of men and
women in Gaelic Connacht and in the mongrel
English Pale of South Leinster, and I can assert
with the late Fr. J. J. Murphy, the most brilliant
Irishman, perhaps, of the present century: “With
respect to every strong manly quality, and with resp¬
ect to their once most especial virtues, the Irish since
Emancipation have degenerated very far indeed."
I quote from memory. It is to be hoped that 'Eir¬
ionach” and others will follow up this matter in the
Irish papers, and that the speakers and writers who
represent the Irish ideal here in America will give
it the attention it deserves. The question of pre¬
serving and reviving the Irish language and liter¬
ature should be brought before the next Annual
Convention of the National League in this Coun¬
try,
JAMES KEEGAN.
No law should become operative in State, City
or Nation until after being submitted to the voters
at the ensuing election. This is Democracy, and
all violations thereof should be resisted — by force
if necessary. Then there would be no hole and corn¬
er treaties, no sumtuary legislation, no bills to per¬
petuate this one or that one in office, and no fear
of the bloodly revolution which the enactment of
such unauthorised measures invite and make justi¬
fiable. It is the sheerest hypocracy to pretend that
every politcian who gets into the legislature should
bind his constituents irrevocably. No, no.
We are indebted to Mr. Griffin, Lawrence, Mass
for the following Ossianic poem, who promises to
give the Gael a supply of them. It is said that Mr
Griffia has the largest collection of Irish manuscripts
in America.
Oisín agus Pádruig an so Ṡíos, Mar
Lenas.
P
A Oisín, is fada do ṡuan,
Éiriġ suas agus éist na Psailm,
Do ṫréig do luiṫ agus do raiṫ,
Cia curṫa Caiṫ ar ġleo ġarḃ.
O
Do ṫréig mo luiṫ is mo raiṫ,
Ó nach mairion Caiṫ ag Fionn.
A g-cléiriḃ ní ḃ-fuil mo spéis
Is ceolta dá n-deis ní ḃinn liom.
P
Ní cualasa coṁ-maiṫ do ceol,
Ó ṫúis an doṁain ṁóir gus nioṁ.
Atá tú arsaḋ, aṁ, ġlic, liaṫ,
Cia dioġalta cliar ar ċnuic.
Ó
Do ḋioġlainse cliar air ċnoc,
A Ṗádruic is olc do rún;
Is mairg duit do ċáin mo ċruiṫ,
Is na fuair mé guiṫ ar d-tús.
Cnuḋ ḋreoil cnuḋ mo ċuirp,
A ḃac ḃeag do ḃí ag Fionn,
An uair do ṡeineaḋ cuir & puirt.
Do ḃíoċ sé 'san g-cruit go binn.
Do ċualasa ceol dob ḟeárr na ḃur gceol
Ce mór do ṁolas tú an clair,
Sgaluiġeaċt lom is búirṫeaċ laoiḋ
Is ceol do rinneaċ andord Ḟoinn.
Blánuiġ an iġnion óg,
Naċ ṫug moide re fear faoi an ngréin,
Aċt cnuḋ ḋreoil agus ioḋ,
Oċ, a arioġ bo ḃinne béal.
Dá ġaḋar deug do ḃí ag Fionn,
An uair do leigeaċ fá ġleann iad
Bo ḃinne iad ná aiṫe ceoil,
Sa naġaḋ ó 'n Siuir amaċ.
Air na leanaṁuinn.
No Language, no Nation !
