Irish and you touch a secret spring. The dull eyes light up, the face
is all animation, the body alert, and for a dull "good-day," you get
warm benedictions, lively sallies, and after you, as you pass on your
road, a flood of rich and racy Irish comes pouring down the wind. That
is the secret power of the language. It makes the old men proud of their
youth and gives to the young quickened faculties, an awakened
imagination and a world to conquer. This is no exaggeration. It is not
always obvious, because we do not touch the secret spring nor wander
near the magic. But the truth is there to find for him who cares to
search. You discover behind the dullness of a provincial town a bright
centre of interest, and when you study the circle you know that here is
some wonderful thing: priests, doctors, lawyers, teachers, tradesmen,
clerks--all drawn together, young and old, both sexes, all enthusiasts.
Sometimes a priest is teaching a smith, sometimes the smith is teaching
the priest: for a moment at least we have unconsciously levelled
barriers and there is jubilation in the natural life re-born. Out of
that quickened life and consciousness rises a vivid imagination with a
rush of thought and a power of expression that gives the nation a new
literature. That is the justification of the language. It awakens and
draws to expression minds that would otherwise be blank. It is not that
the revelation of Davis is of less value than we think, but that through
the medium of Irish other revelations will be won that would otherwise
be lost. Again, in subtle ways we cannot wholly understand, it gives the
Irish mind a defence against every other mind, taking in comradeship
whatever good the others have to offer, while retaining its own power
and place. The Irish mind can do itself justice only in Irish. But still
some ardent and faithful spirits broke through every difficulty of time
and circumstance and found expression in English, and we have the
treasures of Davis, Mitchel, and Mangan; yet, the majority remained
cold, and now, to quicken the mass, we turn to the old language. But