From An Claidheamh Soluis, August 3, 1907.

Next week the eleventh Oireachtas, assembled in Baile Átha Cliath in the face of Gael and Gall, will once more send forth Ireland’s challenge to the Outland Races; will once more sound Ireland’s slogan to her own faint-hearted, but never despairing, children. Who talks of disaster and defeat? Who talks of death and decay? Shall a nation three thousand years old pass away like a dream that has been dreamt? Shall the stubborn race that has kept its face to the foe for seven long centuries turn tail and flee in these days when, in every European land, the weak are waxing strong and the lowly are raising their heads and looking their hereditary taskmasters in the face? Let this be our answer to the sneerer, and the cynic, and the pessimist. If the nation is resolved to do this thing—to save its language, and with its language, its nationality—what earthly power can prevent it? ARE WE RESOLVED?

There are but two factors in the problem—the will of the Irish people and the inscrutable design of Providence. If we really WILL that the Irish nation should live, then to doubt the success of the language movement is to doubt the existence of God.