It may be objected that the friendship of a country such as Ireland has
little value; that she is too small geographically, and too thinly
populated to give aid to any one. Only sixty odd years ago our
population was close on ten millions of people, nor are we yet sterile;
in area Ireland is not collossal, but neither is she microscopic. Mr.
Shaw has spoken of her as a "cabbage patch at the back of beyond." On
this kind of description Rome might be called a hen-run and Greece a
back yard. The sober fact is that Ireland has a larger geographical area
than many an independent and prosperous European kingdom, and for all
human and social needs she is a fairly big country, and is beautiful and
fertile to boot. She could be made worth knowing if goodwill and trust
are available for the task.

I believe that what is known as the "mastery of the seas" will, when the
great war is finished, pass irretrievably from the hands or the ambition
of any nation, and that more urgently than ever in her history England
will have need of a friend. It is true that we might be her enemy and
might do her some small harm--it is truer that we could be her friend,
and could be of very real assistance to her.

Should the English Statesman decide that our friendship is worth having
let him create a little of the political imagination already spoken of.
Let him equip us (it is England's debt to Ireland) for freedom, not in
the manner of a miser who arranges for the chilly livelihood of a needy
female relative; but the way a wealthy father would undertake the
settlement of his son. I fear I am assisting my reader to laugh too
much, but laughter is the sole excess that is wholesome.

If freedom is to come to Ireland--as I believe it is--then the Easter