[Sidenote: The irony of the seats.]

But no such thought disturbed the cheerful souls of some of the Irish
Members; in the worst of times there is something exuberant in the Celt
that rises superior to circumstance. This was to be an Irish Session;
and the great fight of Ireland's future government was to be
fought--perhaps finally. But there was another circumstance which
distinguished this Session from its predecessors. The question of seats
is always a burning one in the House of Commons. In an assembly in which
there is only sitting accommodation for two out of every three members,
there are bound to be some awkward questions when feeling runs high and
debates are interesting. But at the beginning of this Session, things
had got to a worse pass than ever. The Irish Party resolved to remain on
the Opposition side of the House, true to their principle, that until
Ireland receives Home Rule, they are in opposition to all and every form
of Government from Westminster. The result was the bringing together of
the strangest of bedfellows in all sections in the House. There is none
so fiercely opposed to Home Rule as the Irish Orangeman. But the
Orangemen are a portion of the Opposition as well as the Irish
Nationalists, with the inconvenient result that there sat cheek by jowl
men who had about as much love for each other's principles as a country
vicar has for a Northampton Freethinker. On the other hand, a deadlier
hatred exists between the regular Liberal and the Liberal Unionist than
between the ordinary Liberal and the ordinary Tory. But by the irony of
fate, the action of the Irish Party compelled the Unionists to sit on
the Liberal benches again, with the result that men were ranged side by
side, whose hatreds, personal and political, were as deadly as any in
the House.