I appeal to you, O Irishmen, in the name of yer broken homes; in the name of all that makes life glorious and death divine! In the name of yer maimed and yer dead! Of yer brothers in prison and in exile! By the listenin' earth and the watching sky I appeal to ye to make yer stand to-day.

I implore ye to join yer hearts and yer lives with mine.

Lift yer voices with me: stretch forth yer hands with mine and by yer hopes of happiness here and peace hereafter give an oath to heaven never to cease fightin' until freedom and light come to this unhappy land!" "Swear by all ye hold most dear: by the God who gave ye life: by the memory of all ye hold most sacred: by the sorrow for yer women and children who have died of hunger and heart-break: stretch forth yer hands and swear to give yer lives so that the generations to come may know happiness and peace and freedom.

Swear!" He stopped at the end of the adjuration, his right hand held high above his head, his left--palm upward, stretched forward in an attitude of entreaty.
It seemed as though the SOUL of the man was pleading with them to take the oath that would bind THEIR souls to the "Cause." Crowding around him, eyes blazing, breasts heaving, as if impelled by one common thought, the men and women clamoured with outstretched hands: "We swear!" In that moment of exaltation it seemed as if the old Saint-Martyrs' halo glowed over each, as they took the oath that pledged them to the "CAUSE,"-- the Cause that meant the lifting of oppression and tyranny: immunity from "buckshot" and the prison-cell: from famine and murder and coercion--all the component parts of Ireland's torture in her struggle for her right to self-government.
A moment later the crowd was hushed.

A tremour ran through it.