But, had not that necessity now arisen?  The Ulster members had to keep in view the ultimate policy to which they were already committed.  That policy, as laid down at Craigavon, was to take over, in the event of the Home Rule Bill being carried, the government “of those districts which they could control” in trust for the Imperial Parliament, and to resist by force if necessary the establishment of the Dublin jurisdiction over those districts.  The policy of resistance was always recognised as being strictly limited in area; no one ever supposed that Ulster could forcibly resist Home Rule being set up in the south and west.  The likelihood of failure to bring about a dissolution before the Bill became law had to be faced, and if no General Election took place there would be no alternative to resistance.  If, then, it were decided to vote against an amendment offering salvation to the four most loyalist counties, what would be their position if ultimately driven to take up arms?  Except as to a matter of detail concerning the precise area proposed to be excluded from the Bill, would they not be told that they were fighting for what they might have had by legislation, and what they had deliberately refused to accept?  And if they so acted, could they expect not to forfeit the support of the great and growing volume of public opinion which now sympathised with Ulster?  They could not, of course, secure themselves against malicious misrepresentation of their motives, but the Ulster members sincerely believed, and many in the South shared the opinion, that if it came to the worst they could be of more use to the Southern Unionists outside a Dublin Parliament than as members of it, where they would be an impotent minority.  Moreover, it was perfectly understood that Ulster was resolved in any case not to enter a legislature in College Green, and there would, therefore, be no more “desertion” of Unionists outside the excluded area if the exclusion were effected by an amendment to the Bill, than if it were the result of what Mr. Bonar Law had called “trusting to themselves.”

The considerations thus briefly summarised were thoroughly discussed in all their bearings at the conference at Londonderry House.  It was one of many occasions when Sir Edward Carson’s colleagues had an opportunity of perceiving how his penetrating intellect explored the intricate windings of a complicated political problem, weighing all the alternatives of procedure with a clear insight into the appearance that any line of conduct would present to other and perhaps hostile minds, calculating like a chess-master move and counter-move far ahead of the present, and, while adhering undeviatingly to principle, using the judgment of a consummate strategist to decide upon the action to be taken at any given moment.  He had an astonishing faculty of discarding everything that was unessential and fastening on the thing that really mattered in any situation.  His strength in counsel lay in the rare combination of these qualities of the trained lawyer with the gift of intuition, which women claim as their distinguishing characteristic; and it often extorted from Nationalists the melancholy admission that if Carson had been on their side their cause would have triumphed long ago.