These facts of history had not merely produced in Ireland an attitude of mind hostile to the idea, so to say, of the British Army as an institution, though the individual soldier had always been at least as popular as anyone else.  They had produced a population extraordinarily unfamiliar with the idea of armament.  The old Volunteers and the Territorials had at least conveyed to all ranks of society in Great Britain the possibility of joining a military organization while remaining an ordinary citizen.  In the imagination of Ireland, either you were a soldier or you were not; and if you were a soldier, you belonged to an exceptional class, remote from ordinary existence.  To cross that line was a far greater step to contemplate with us than in England.  Redmond reckoned, and reckoned rightly, that to bring Irishmen together in military formations, learning the art of war, was the best way to combat this disinclination to enter the Army—­this feeling that enlistment meant doing something “out of the way,” something contrary to usage and tradition.  He reckoned that the attitude of Nationalist Ireland would alter towards a Government which put arms in their hands on their own terms; and that with a great war on foot a temper of adventure and emulation would very soon draw young men flocking to the ranks in which they could see the reality of war.  That was Redmond’s policy and it was the statesman’s.  Nationalist Ireland was perfectly ready to adopt the ideals which moved the British Empire at home and overseas in the war:  but first the British Empire must show that it respected the ideals of Nationalist Ireland.  The Empire’s statesmen did so:  the British democracy did so:  but Lord Kitchener stood in the way.

From Ulster, it was clear that immediate cordial co-operation could not be anticipated.  Yet Redmond had implicit faith in the ultimate effect of comradeship in danger, and here we know he was right.  He was to pay a heavy price in blood for the seal set upon that bond; but in the end the seal was set.  For the moment, Ulster as a whole was sullen and distrustful.  Feeling that to admit the good faith of Nationalists jeopardized their own political cause, they belittled what in the interests of the common weal it would have been wise even to over-value.  At the outset “An Ulster Volunteer” wrote to the papers “Let us all unite as a solid nation”; but such an utterance was exceptional.  Hardly less exceptional was the line taken by “An Officer of National Volunteers” who wrote, “If the necessity arose to-morrow and the word went out from Headquarters, the National Volunteers would be prepared to fight to the very death in defending the homes and liberties of France and England.”  “For Ireland Only” was a motto much inculcated in those days among the Irish Volunteers.  Suspicion on the one side bred estrangement on the other; and every hour lost increased the mischief.