THE HIBERNIAN'S SOCIETY'S BANQUET.

Grey River Argus, Volume XII, Issue 1141, 25 March 1872, Page 2

THE HIBERNIAN'S SOCIETY'S BANQUET.

The following speeches, delivered at the late banquet of the Grey mouth. Branch of the Hibernian Catholic Benefit Society, were omitted from our necessarily hurried report. Their appearance has since been delayed : owing to the arrival of English and Australian mails : — In reply to the toast of "Our Native Land," Mr Gilbert Kin« said :— Mr President, Ladies, and Gentlemen— lt is with the greatest diffidence that I rise to respond to the toast which has just been proposed, being conscious of my inability to do it justice. And yet perhaps, seeing the enthusiastic manner in which it has been received, I. should consider myself fortunate in having this duty assigned to me. No eloquence ia required when the mention of its name alone, " Our' Native Land," suffices to strike a responsive chord in. the breast of every person present. I am certain that here to-night there breathes no "Man with soul so dead ■; Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land, Whose heart has ne'er within him burn'd As home his footsteps he hath turn'd From wand'ring on a foreign strand." This is a sentiment which, appeals directly to our finest feelings, and no matter "what our differences in other respects may be, and, unfortunately, they are many, in this we can all unite ; here we meet on common ground. I may say, especially of Irishmen, that an intense nationality and love of country is their predominant characteristic —feelings which neither distance nor length of absence from their native shore can ever weaken or eradicate. Our national poetry shows the influence of such inspirations in almost every line— "My own, roy native island, where'er I chance to. roam, ; , Tby lonely hills shall ever be my owa beloved home." With what yearning, and yet with what despair has this been sung by many an exile in those dark old days now passed away for ever. For us,more happjlyplaced, although we may at present be able but in "dreams to re-visit that sea-beaten shore," the hope that at some future time our dreams may become reality need ,neyer:forsake us— >. - " My native land, my native land, Live in my memory still !■; ; Break on my brain ye surges grand 1.., - .„ Stand up, mist-covered hill ! Still in the mirror of my mind, The land I love I see, Would I could fly on the westernwind, My native land, to thee." In reply to the toast of "Theday we.celebrate," Mr P. Dungan said-^-Mr Chairman, ladies, and gentlemen— l feel deeply sensible of the honor conferred upon me in being called upon to speak to the toast, "The day we celebrate. " In language and in spirit it bears harmonious' accord with the love I cherish for the sentiment it embodies, andior the heartfelt .pleasure it affords in being present on this auspicious occasion. The national anniversary of Ireland has once more come round to us. The day of the patron Saint of Ireland, St. Patrick, ao full, of pride, so full of love, has once again been within our possession, and, thank God, we are here to welcome it with jubilation. With that warnith of heart and play of exuberant feelings, .with that delight of mind and proud recollection of the past, befitting the occasion, we gather together at this social, this festive board. We, the children of dear old mother - Erin, hand in hand, heart in heart, bound together in harmony and good will, united in sentiment and brightest hope of the divine word, we scatter the flowers , of our own blissful enjoyment around, and : give to ' others the full measure of the cup of pleasure when the days of their own rejoicing smiles upon them. From time immemorial the excellent old custom has been preserved of honoring the good and great ; of wafting on high the incense of their praise, in tones resonant and triu tnphant; and give to the world the achievement of worthy deeds. But to the children of. Ireland in their long page of history, or in the bright and vivid pictures of . traditionary lore, there is no name of such unexampled splendour as that of Patrick ; no figure, as we -take a passing glance of ancient or modern days, more resplendent of all that's good, gentle, and holy, or, in the calendar of saints the chosen servants of the Almighty overshadowed with the glories of the Godhead, few names stand forth so conspicuous, or on its brilliant and sanctified page appears more prominent. Oh, Ireland ! inestimable, the treasure, priceless the legacy bequeathed to you ; and eternal honour to our race, who through the bitter searching and calamitous ordeals made manifest in the chequered- history of their country, have ever battled bravely for their sacred inheritance. Keeping aloft before their beaming eyes and unconquerable hearts the magic word of victory, who through the. varied and trying vicissitudes of fortune have clung with unswerving fidelity to the good old day of Saint Patrick, maintaining with spirit inextinguishable and love unfaltering its endearing recollections ; and so, with God's blessing, it shall ever be, commemorating the hallowed time, giving perpetuation to its sacred memories. But let us for the moment revert to the honour, the glory of the day, and in fancy free carry the high and" buoyant/ the bounding joy of feeling and of mind as thoughts of Ireland, our native land, with the celebration of its historic anniversary by our people, comes forcibly to the imagination. In the Western Isle, ere the grey dawn heralds in the light of coming day, loud peal the bells in joyous welcome, and as dewy morn foreshadows the splendour of advancing hours, behold the scenes of joy and of festivity ovorspread the land, There is a magic sympathy of thought and of action pervade it. O'er mountain, hill, and dale, with graceful step and modest meiu, rich in celestial charms) there go the maids and matrons of Ireland ; o'er mountain, hill, and dale, with bounding tread of foot and form erect as airily pass along the stalwart men of Ireland, imbued with spirit of faith, moved with holy desires iri the sanctity of the day, the temple of the living God is sought where first the heart's best devotion 3 i 3 given. Still stirred by a generous enthusiasm in the renown which the glorious old time reveals, that has been made worldwide and shall remain imperishable, the homage of their hearts is won, and they greet with delight "St. Patrick's • Day in the morningr" The children of « the Gael, at home and abroad, in the: iecurrence pf that day so proud and i happy, is to them one both of honor and ~i

of reverence. Our ancestors in every age have gallantly sustained, faithfully preserved, aye, cheerfully sacrificed all that was dear to them in life when the faith of St. Patrick stood in danger. History attests the solemn fact, indelibly written as it is in the blood and heroism of martyrs and of patriots. Yes, 4he history of a noble old race cruelly wronged and ruthlessly maltreated, . who, beneath a terrible scourge, has had to bow their heads and suffer. Yet, with/ wonderful vitality, they stand vigorous and flourishing all over the world at the present time. And we, who boast of belonging to the same old stock and claiming its kindred ties, we are here to-night to add our share of lustre to that crown of glorious light that for ever shall surround the name and fame of Patrick, and to show our binding love for dear old Ireland— the land of our birth, and of the green immortal Shamrock.