It may be that even before the era of Irish independence some inspired poet may write, to some old or new Irish melody, a song which, by its transcendent merits, may spring at once into the first place.  But until that happens, or till “we’ve made our isle a nation free and grand” I think we may very well rest content with “God Save Ireland.”

It has been suggested to me that it might form an interesting portion of these recollections if I were to give some account of how we came to start the “Emerald Minstrels,” and what we did while that company was in existence.  I may say without hesitation that we got our inspiration from the teaching of Young Ireland and the “Spirit of the Nation.”  We called our entertainment “Terence’s Fireside; or The Irish Peasant at Home.”

We had most of us been boys in the old Copperas Hill school, then in the Young Men’s Guild connected with the church, and some of us members of the choir.  At the Guild meetings on Sunday nights, the chaplain, Father Nugent, an Irishman, but, like most of ourselves, born out of his own country, used to delight in teaching us elocution, and encouraging us to write essays, besides putting other means of culture in our way.

After a time he founded an educational establishment, the Catholic Institute, where, when he left Copperas Hill, many of us followed him and joined the evening classes.  About this good priest I shall have more to say in this narrative, and, though he was no politician, I don’t think any man ever did so much to elevate the condition of the Irish people of his native town, and make them both respectable—­in the best sense—­and respected, as Father Nugent.

We started the “Emerald Minstrels” at a time when there was a lull in Irish politics; our objects being the cultivation of Irish music, poetry and the drama; Irish literature generally, Irish pastimes and customs; and, above all, Irish Nationality.

Father Nugent’s training from the time we were young boys had been invaluable.  We numbered ten, the most brilliant member of our body, and the one who did most in organising our entertainments, being John Francis McArdle.  Besides our main objects, already stated, we considered we were doing good work by elevating the tastes of our people, who had, through sheer good nature, so long tolerated an objectionable class of so-called Irish songs, as well as the still more objectionable “Stage Irishman.”

Some items from the programme will give an idea of our entertainment.  We opened with a prologue, originally written by myself, but re-cast and very much improved by John McArdle.  I may say that we two often did a considerable amount of journalistic work in that way in after years.  I can just remember a little of the prologue.  These were the opening lines:—­

  Sons of green Erin, we greet you this night! 
  And you, too, her daughters—­how welcome the sight! 
  We come here before you, a minstrel band,
  To carol the lays of our native land.