that is not clean-handed will make victory more disgraceful than any
defeat. I make the point here because we stand for separation from the
British Empire, and because I have heard it argued that we ought, if we
could, make a foreign alliance to crush English power here, even if our
foreign allies were engaged in crushing freedom elsewhere. When such a
question can be proposed it should be answered, though the time is not
ripe to test it. If Ireland were to win freedom by helping directly or
indirectly to crush another people she would earn the execration she has
herself poured out on tyranny for ages. I have come to see it is
possible for Ireland to win her independence by base methods. It is
imperative, therefore, that we should declare ourselves and know where
we stand. And I stand by this principle: no physical victory can
compensate for spiritual surrender. Whatever side denies that is not my
side.

What, then, is the true basis to our claim to freedom? There are two
points of view. The first we have when fresh from school, still in our
teens, ready to tilt against everyone and everything, delighting in
saying smart things--and able sometimes to say them--talking much and
boldly of freedom, but satisfied if the thing sounds bravely. There is
the later point of view. We are no longer boys; we have come to review
the situation, and take a definite stand in life. We have had years of
experience, keen struggles, not a little bitterness, and we are
steadied. We feel a heart-beat for deeper things. It is no longer
sufficient that they sound bravely; they must ring true. The schoolboy's
dream is more of a Roman triumph--tramping armies, shouting multitudes,
waving banners--all good enough in their way. But the dream of men is
for something beyond all this show. If it were not, it could hardly
claim a sacrifice.