II

One candid writer, Machiavelli, has put the Imperial creed into a book, the examination of which will—­for those willing to see—­clear the air of illusion.  Now, we are conscious that defenders of the Empire profess to be shocked by the wickedness of Machiavelli’s utterance—­we shall hear Macaulay later—­but this shocked attitude won’t delude us.  Let those who have not read Machiavelli’s book, “The Prince,” consider carefully the extracts given below and see exactly how they fit the English occupation of Ireland, and understand thoroughly that the Empire is a thing, bad in itself, utterly wicked, to be resisted everywhere, fought without ceasing, renounced with fervour and without qualification, as we have been taught from the cradle to renounce the Devil with all his works and pomps.  Consider first the invasion.  Machiavelli speaks:—­“The common method in such cases is this.  As soon as a foreign potentate enters into a province those who are weaker or disobliged join themselves with him out of emulation and animosity to those who are above them, insomuch that in respect to those inferior lords no pains are to be omitted that may gain them; and when gained, they will readily and unanimously fall into one mass with the State that is conquered.  Only the conqueror is to take special care that they grow not too strong, nor be entrusted with too much authority, and then he can easily with his own forces and their assistance keep down the greatness of his neighbours, and make himself absolute arbiter in that province.”  Here is the old maxim, “Divide and conquer.”  To gain an entry some pretence is advisable.  Machiavelli speaks with approval of a certain potentate who always made religion a pretence.  Having entered a vigorous policy must be pursued.  We read—­“He who usurps the government of any State is to execute and put in practice all the cruelties which he thinks material at once.”  Cromwell rises before us.

“A prince,” says Machiavelli, “is not to regard the scandal of being cruel if thereby he keeps his subjects in their allegiance.”  “For,” he is cautioned, “whoever conquers a free town and does not demolish it commits a great error and may expect to be ruined himself; because whenever the citizens are disposed to revolt they betake themselves, of course, to that blessed name of Liberty, and the laws of their ancestors, which no length of time nor kind usage whatever will be able to eradicate.”  An alternative to utter destruction is flattery and indulgence.  “Men are either to be flattered and indulged or utterly destroyed.”  We think of the titles and the bribes.  Again, “A town that has been anciently free cannot more easily be kept in subjection than by employing its own citizens.”  We think of the place-hunter, the King’s visit, the “loyal” address.  To make the conquest secure we read:  “When a prince conquers a new State and annexes it as a member to his old,