for—they held the balance of power and they
could order the Government to do their bidding or
quit. Yet instead of regarding themselves as
the ambassadors of a nation claiming its liberty they
seemed to be obsessed with a criminal selfishness passing
all possible belief. When it was proposed to
make Members of Parliament stipendiaries of the State,
they at first protested vehemently against the application
of this principle to the Irish representatives, and
therein they were right. From a purely democratic
standpoint no reasonable objection can be urged against
the payment of those who give their time and talent
to the public service, but Ireland was in different
case. Her representatives were at Westminster
unwillingly, not to assist in the government of the
Empire with gracious intent, but rather definitely
to obstruct, impede and hamper this government until
Ireland’s inalienable right to self-government
was conceded, and therefore it was their clear duty
to say that they would accept payment only from the
country and the people they served and that they cast
back this Treasury bribe in the teeth of those who
offered it. But having ostentatiously resolved
that they would never accept a Parliamentary stipend,
they finally allowed their virtuous resistance to temptation
to be overcome and voted for “payment of members,”
which, without their votes, would never have been
adopted by the House of Commons. There were placemen
now in Parliament, and place-hunting was no longer
a pastime to be proscribed amongst Nationalists.
It may be there was no wilful corruption in thus accepting
from the common purse of the United Kingdom payment
which was made to all Members of Parliament alike,
but it deprived the Irish people of control of their
representatives and handed them over to the control
of the English Treasury, and thus opened the way to
the downfall of Parliamentarianism in Ireland that
rapidly set in. Abandoned all too lightly was
the rigid principle that to accept favours from England
was to betray Ireland, and the pursuit of place and
patronage was esteemed as not being inconsistent with
a pure patriotism.
Furthermore, as if to cap the climax of their imbecilities
and blunders, the Irish Party allowed the first precious
year of their mastery of Parliament to be devoted
to the passage of an Insurance Act which nobody in
Ireland outside the job-seekers wanted, which every
independent voice in the country, including a unanimous
Bench of Bishops, protested against, and whose only
recommendation was that it provided a regular deluge
of well-paid positions for the votaries of the secret
sectarian society that had the country in its vicious
grip. Such a debauch of sham Nationalism as now
ensued was never paralleled in the worst period of
Ireland’s history, and that this should be done
in the name of patriotism was not its least degrading
feature. Nemesis could not fail to overtake this
conscious sin against the national ideal. It
met with its own condign punishment before many years