It is nearly forty years since we first knew each other in connection with another organisation. He then lived in a North Lancashire town, and was studying medicine, not being at that time a fully qualified doctor. If I remember rightly, our interview had no connexion with the healing art, indeed quite the contrary, for besides qualifying for the medical profession, he was graduating in the same school as Rickard Burke, Arthur Forrester, and Michael Davitt, but, like myself, was more fortunate than Burke and Davitt, inasmuch as he escaped their fate of being sent into penal servitude. Although Mark Ryan was for a long time resident in Lancashire, he there lost nothing, nor has he since, of the fluent Gaelic speech of his native Galway, for I heard him quite recently delivering an eloquent speech in Irish at a gathering of the Gaelic League.
Speaking of Dr. Mark Ryan reminds me of how often I have noticed in my travels through Great Britain, what a number of Irish doctors there are, and also that they are almost invariably patriotic. They are of great service to the cause, for it frequently happens that, in some districts, they are almost the only men of culture, and are not generally slow to take the lead among their humbler fellow-countrymen.
One of the finest Irish scholars in the Gaelic League was Mr. Thomas Flannery. He, too, was a valued contributor to my "Monthly Irish Library," two of the best books in the series, "Dr. John O'Donovan," and "Archbishop MacHale," being from his pen. In fact, he and Timothy MacSweeny I might almost look upon as having been the Gaelic editors of the "Monthly."
I once, when in business in Liverpool, printed a Scottish Gaelic Prayer-Book for Father Campbell, one of the Jesuit priests of that city, for use among the Catholic congregations in the highlands and islands of Scotland. John Rogers, like Timothy MacSweeny, a ripe Irish scholar, called on me while it was in progress, and was delighted to know that such a book was being issued. To Mr. MacSweeny I also sent a copy, and they both could read the Scottish Gaelic easily, showing, of course, how closely the Irish and Scottish Gaels were, with the Manx, united in one branch of the Celtic race, as distinguished from the Bretons and Welsh.
I have always had an intense admiration for the poetry of "Young Ireland." I used to call it Irish literature until I found myself corrected, very properly, by my Gaelic League friends, who maintained that, not being in the Irish tongue, its proper designation was Anglo-Irish literature.
I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of one of the leading young Irelanders, Charles Gavan Duffy, after his return to this country, when he assisted at the inauguration of our London Irish Literary Society, which has been a credit to the Irishmen of the metropolis. Much of the success of the Society is due to Alfred Perceval Graves, author of the well-known song "Father O'Flynn," a faithful picture of a genuine Irish soggarth. Among others of the members of the society who have made their mark in Irish literature is Mr. Richard Barry O'Brien, the President, the author of several valuable works of history and biography.
It was at the opening of our Literary Society that I first met Duffy in the flesh, but I had known and admired him in spirit from my earliest boyhood. I was greatly pleased when he told me he had been much interested in my publications, not only those issued more recently, but those of many years before. I afterwards had a letter from him in reference to my "Irish in Britain," in which he said: "I saw long ago some of the little Irish books you published in Liverpool, and know you for an old and zealous worker in the national seed field."
His son, George Gavan Duffy, is a solicitor, practising in London, and an active worker in the national cause. His wife is a daughter of the late A.M. Sullivan, and is as zealous a Nationalist as was her father, and as patriotic as her husband.
The first book of National poetry I ever read was one compiled by Charles Gavan Duffy—"The Ballad Poetry of Ireland." I should say that this has been one of the most popular books ever issued. There are none of his own songs in this volume. The few he did write are in the "Spirit of the Nation" and other collections. These make us regret he did not write more, for, in the whole range of our poetry, I think there is nothing finer or more soul-stirring than his "Inishowen," "The Irish Rapparees," and "The Men of the North."
It is unfortunate that we have nothing from the pen of Thomas Davis on the subject of the Irish drama and dramatists, for among the most delightful and valuable contributions to the Anglo-Irish literature of the nineteenth century were his "Literary and Historical Essays."