This reasoning appears well founded, because in Greece, in Poland, and everywhere that a conquering people have been unable to assimilate with the conquered, the same results have always followed. I am, however, quite convinced that it is absolutely false as regards Ireland. In every son of Erin there is the making of a conspirator. At all times conspiracy has been an element where they have been as much at their ease as fish in water. But amongst them a conspirator finds great difficulty in transforming himself into a rebel. Why is this? I cannot tell. It is certainly not for want of courage. As soldiers, the Irish have no need to prove their abilities. And yet we have only to consult their national history to perceive that of all the rebellions they have attempted not one has been serious. Towards the end of the last century, when Brittany and Vendée rose against the Republic, they had no resources of any kind, and they had to deal with a military power that had routed all the armies in Europe. Six months later they placed 80,000 men in the field, who, at first armed with sticks, used them with such effect that at the end of a few days they were all armed with guns taken from their enemies. For some years they held in check all the forces that were sent against them. Towards the same date the Irish made several attempts at insurrection. One of them was even aided by a detachment of French troops being landed. The English sent very insignificant troops to oppose them. Yet after a few days they had overcome the insurgents without the latter being able to form a military force capable of resisting one battalion of infantry in the open field. If the Irish showed themselves so powerless when circumstances were all in their favour, what chance of success have they now?

But in order that a nation should throw itself headlong into a rebellion of this kind, it must have a definite object in view. Greece and Poland were determined to regain their independence, and knew what they would do with this independence if they succeeded in winning it. Now, unfortunately, it is very different with the Irish. Their political men are quite aware of the facts of the case. Independent Ireland is an impossibility.

First of all, whilst England possesses a soldier or a crown she will never consent to the separation. It is a question of life or death for her. Imagine a war with France and Ireland allied, what would become of her?

But there is another reason, and this is an economic one, why the Irish themselves will never push matters to extremities. They know perfectly well that the day after their independence was acknowledged, they must either conquer England or else throw themselves upon her mercy. How could they support a separate State? They would require money to live with, and this money can only be found by selling their produce. Now if the English can buy the cattle, pigs and butter they require from all parts of the globe, the Irish themselves can only sell the cattle, pigs, and butter, which are their sole produce, in England; for they could hardly aspire to sending their pigs to Chicago or their butter to Isigny. They would be absolutely at England’s mercy.

As long therefore as they cannot transport their country some hundred miles further west, the Irish must be content and resign themselves to the fact that Ireland can only be an appendage to England. Equality between the two countries cannot exist. If the Irish succeeded in conquering England the seat of government might be at Dublin; the greater part of the taxes paid by the English would be spent there, in the same way that a large portion of Irish taxes are now spent in London. But until they feel strong enough to bring this great enterprise to a successful issue, they must bear their share of a situation which, after all, is not worse than that of the inhabitants of Bordeaux or Dijon, whose taxes are in a great measure spent in Paris.

It may be objected that without going as far as actual separation, which, in fact, no one asks for, because it is manifestly out of the question, they may ask, as Mr. Gladstone does, for a relative separation.

I have already stated at some length and several times in the course of this work, the reasons which lead me to believe that even with this amelioration a separation would be disastrous for Ireland; it would result in all capital being withdrawn from Ireland, for it is now almost exclusively in English hands.

In my opinion Mr. Gladstone has been very wrong in encouraging the Irish to persevere in this absolutely false idea, that all their misfortunes are due to political causes, whilst in reality the terrible crisis they are passing through is only a result of the economic evolution which is taking place all over the world.

The burning question in this country which dominates every other is the question of land ownership. Ireland is a country of small cultivators. Let us first examine the question on the theoretical side.

Originally in all societies the land belonged to whoever would cultivate and enclose it; since it had no value no one enclosed more than he could cultivate himself, that is, very little, for their implements were very primitive. Small estates were therefore formed by the mere force of circumstances. In some countries, in France for instance, at least in a considerable portion of the territory, small estates have been preserved to the present time. This is very fortunate, for, from a social point of view, it is the most perfect system, and wherever it is possible to uphold it by law no hesitation should be shown about doing so.