them something which they could appreciate and assimilate;
and that it afforded a proof that people who would
not respond to alien educational systems, will respond
with eagerness to something they can call their own.
The national factor in Ireland has been studiously
eliminated from national education, and Ireland is
perhaps the only country in Europe where it was part
of the settled policy of those, who had the guidance
of education to ignore the literature, history, arts,
and traditions of the people. It was a fatal policy,
for it obviously tended to stamp their native country
in the eyes of Irishmen with the badge of inferiority
and to extinguish the sense of healthy self-respect
which comes from the consciousness of high national
ancestry and traditions. This policy, rigidly
adhered to for many years, almost extinguished native
culture among Irishmen, but it did not succeed in
making another form of culture acceptable to them.
It dulled the intelligence of the people, impaired
their interest in their own surroundings, stimulated
emigration by teaching them to look on other countries
as more agreeable places to live in, and made Ireland
almost a social desert. Men and women without
culture or knowledge of literature or of music have
succeeded a former generation who were passionately
interested in these things, an interest which extended
down even to the wayside cabin. The loss of these
elevating influences in Irish society probably accounts
for much of the arid nature of Irish controversies,
while the reaction against their suppression has given
rise to those displays of rhetorical patriotism for
which the Irish language has found the expressive
term
raimeis, and which (thanks largely to the
Gaelic movement) most people now listen to with a
painful and half-ashamed sense of their unreality.
The Gaelic movement has brought to the surface sentiments
and thoughts which had been developed in Gaelic Ireland
through hundreds of years, and which no repression
had been able to obliterate altogether, but which
still remained as a latent spiritual inheritance in
the mind. And now this stream, which has long
run underground, has again emerged even stronger than
before, because an element of national self-consciousness
has been added at its re-emergence. A passionate
conviction is gaining ground that if Irish traditions,
literature, language, art, music, and culture are
allowed to disappear, it will mean the disappearance
of the race; and that the education of the country
must be nationalised if our social, intellectual,
or even our economic position is to be permanently
improved.
With this view of the Gaelic movement my own thoughts
are in complete accord. It is undeniable that
the pride in country justly felt by Englishmen, a
pride developed by education and a knowledge of their
history, has had much to do with the industrial pre-eminence
of England; for the pioneers of its commerce have
been often actuated as much by patriotic motives as
by the desire for gain. The education of the Irish
people has ignored the need for any such historical
basis for pride or love of country, and, for my part,
I feel sure that the Gaelic League is acting wisely
in seeking to arouse such a sentiment, and to found
it mainly upon the ages of Ireland’s story when
Ireland was most Irish.