It whisper’d too, that freedom’s ark
And service high and holy,
Would be profaned by feelings dark
And passions vain or lowly;
For, Freedom comes from God’s right hand,
And needs a Godly train;
And righteous men must make our land
A Nation once again!
A Nation once again,
A Nation once again,
And Ireland, long a province, be
A Nation once again!
—Thomas Osborne Davis, “A Nation Once Again.”
St. Patrick’s Day rolls around again today on Monday, March 17, 2025. As always, all eyes turn – in reality or remembrance – to the Emerald Isle. The Jews may have invented the word Schmaltz, but no one has perfected its use quite like the Irish outside Ireland – and especially in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, New Orleans, San Francisco, and other centres of the Irish-American diaspora, like dear old Pearl River, New York, home to descendants of generations of policemen and firemen from the Big Apple. Rivers will turn green; the Ancient Order of Hibernians, Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, and other such societies will parade; oceans of Guinness and Jameson’s will flow from countless pubs and bars; and equally countless corned beef and cabbage dinners will be served in lieu of the actual bacon and cabbage consumed in Erin.
My own Irish ancestry, if DNA can be trusted, hails primarily from Cork and Kerry, two counties of the ancient Kingdom of Munster. I am proud that they refused to join the 1798 Rebellion, being, in the words of Irish Nationalist Historian Seumas MacManus, “too Jacobite ever to be Jacobin.” We may be distantly related to Michael Collins; that would not make me unhappy, as he was an admirer of Chesterton and a devout Catholic. But to be honest, I am rather uncomfortable with the whole Irish Nationalist thing – especially as it has altered in my own lifetime. …
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