ime, I
was introduced to his old comrade (who had, he said, often heard of me)
by "J.F.X.," as we used to call him, and it was to me a delightful
experience to hear the two old warriors, who had done and suffered so
much for Ireland, fighting their battles over again.

I was sitting in my office in Father Nugent's Refuge one day, about the
beginning of 1866, when my old friend, John Ryan, was shown in to me.

As we had not seen each other for several years, our greeting was a most
cordial one. Though we had not met, I had heard of him from mutual
friends from time to time as being actively connected with the physical
force movement for the freedom of Ireland.

During this time I had often wished to see him, and I found that exactly
the same idea had been in _his_ mind regarding me; our object being the
same--my initiation into the ranks of the Irish Revolutionary
Brotherhood, of which he was an organiser.

A word perhaps is due here--for I wish to pay respect to the opinion of
every man--to those Irishmen who call themselves loyalists. On close
analysis their language and arguments appear to me to be meaningless. A
study of the history of the world and of the origins of civil power show
that there is only one thing that is recognisable as giving a good and
stable title to any government, and that is the consent of the governed.

A man who is a member of a community owes a duty to the community in
return for the benefit arising out of his membership, but his
duty--which he may call loyalty if he pleases--is proportionate to the
share which he possesses in the imposition of responsibilities upon
himself. The application of this to Ireland is obvious, and it explains
why in so many cases a man who has been a rebel in Ireland has
afterwards risen to the highest place in the self-governing communities
which are called British colonies. To put it in another way, a community
of intelligent men must be self-governing, or else it will be a
forcing-house for rebels. I don't see any third way.

As I have before suggested, the two questions that have always presented
themselves to me in connection with work for Ireland have been--first,
is it right? Second, is it practicable? In joining the I.R.B. I had no
doubt on either ground. As to the first, the misgovernment of Ireland,
of which I had seen the hideous fruits in the Famine years and
emigration, was ample justification. As to the second, there was every
likelihood of the