own ignoble image. Those who love Ireland nobly desire for her the
highest of human destinies. They would ransack the ages and accumulate
wisdom to make Irish life seem as noble in men's eyes as any the world
has known. The better minds in every race, eliminating passion and
prejudice, by the exercise of the imaginative reason have revealed to
their countrymen ideals which they recognized were implicit in national
character. It is such discoveries we have yet to make about ourselves
to unite us to fulfill our destiny. We have to discover what is
fundamental in Irish character, the affections, leanings, tendencies
towards one or more of the eternal principles which have governed and
inspired all great human effort, all great civilizations from the dawn
of history. A nation is but a host of men united by some God-begotten
mood, some hope of liberty or dream of power or beauty or justice or
brotherhood, and until that master idea is manifested to us there is no
shining star to guide the ship of our destinies.

Our civilization must depend on the quality of thought engendered in the
national being. We have to do for Ireland--though we hope with less
arrogance--what the long and illustrious line of German thinkers,
scientists, poets, philosophers, and historians did for Germany, or what
the poets and artists of Greece did for the Athenians: and that is, to
create national ideals, which will dominate the policy of statesmen, the
actions of citizens, the universities, the social organizations, the
administration of State departments, and unite in one spirit urban and
rural life. Unless this is done Ireland will be like Portugal, or any
of the corrupt little penny-dreadful nationalities which so continually
disturb the peace of the world with internal revolutions and external
brawlings, and we shall only have achieved the mechanism of nationality,
but the spirit will have eluded us.