to proclaim it, though the poets have always glorified
it, and the legions will ultimately acknowledge it.
One man alone may vindicate it, and because that one
man has never failed it has never died. Not,
indeed, that Ireland has ever been reduced to a single
loyal son. She never will be. We have not
survived the centuries to be conquered now. But
the profound significance of the struggle, of its
deep spiritual appeal, of the imperative need for a
motive force as lofty and beautiful, of the consciousness
that worthy winning of freedom is a labour for human
brotherhood; the significance of it all is seen in
the obligation it imposes on everyone to be true, the
majority notwithstanding. He is called to a grave
charge who is called to resist the majority.
But he will resist, knowing his victory will lead them
to a dearer dream than they had ever known. He
will fight for that ideal in obscurity, little heeded—in
the open, misunderstood; in humble places, still undaunted;
in high places, seizing every vantage point, never
crushed, never silent, never despairing, cheering a
few comrades with hope for the morrow. And should
these few sink in the struggle the greatness of the
ideal is proven in the last hour; as they fall their
country awakens to their dream, and he who inspired
and sustained them is justified; justified against
the whole race, he who once stood alone against them.
In the hour he falls he is the saviour of his race.
CHAPTER II
Separation.
I
When we plead for separation from the British Empire
as the only basis on which our country can have full
development, and on which we can have final peace
with England, we find in opponents a variety of attitudes,
but one attitude invariably absent—a readiness
to discuss the question fairly and refute it, if this
can be done. One man will take it superficially
and heatedly, assuming it to be, according to his party,
a censure on Mr. Redmond or Mr. O’Brien.
Another will take it superficially, but, as he thinks,
philosophically, and will dismiss it with a smile.
With the followers of Mr. Redmond or Mr. O’Brien
we can hardly argue at present, but we should not
lose heart on their account, for these men move en
masse. One day the consciousness of the country
will be electrified with a great deed or a great sacrifice
and the multitude will break from lethargy or prejudice
and march with a shout for freedom in a true, a brave,
and a beautiful sense. We must work and prepare
for that hour. Then there is our philosophical
friend. I expect him to hear my arguments.
When I am done, he may not agree with me on all points;
he may not agree with me on any point; but if he come
with me, I promise him one thing: this question
can no longer be dismissed with a smile.
II