power in an independent Ireland, would greatly enhance her capacity for
ensuring the fair treatment of Irish Protestants. The treaty of
independence would provide guarantees for their rights, and any breach
of these guarantees would be a _casus belli_. The mere threat of a
hostile tariff would of itself be a stronger sanction than the most
strenuous provisions of an Act of Parliament backed only by the very
hypothetical power of compelling a half-independent executive to obey
the judgments of, say, the Privy Council The guarantees of a treaty are,
it may be said, often worthless. This is so; but their worthlessness
arises from the weakness of the country in whose favour they are made.
In any event they may be worth a good deal more than provisions of an
Act of Parliament. The deriders of a paper Union which has lasted for a
century have no right to count on the validity of a paper Federation
which still awaits creation.

It is, again, possible that the severance of all political connection
might open the way to friendship or alliance.

This assertion is no unmeaning paradox. If one could anticipate with any
confidence that the acknowledgment of Irish nationality would bring to
Ireland happiness and prosperity, it would not be a very bold conjecture
that as Ireland flourished and prospered, ill-will to England might
rapidly decrease. With nations, as with individuals, to remove all
causes of mutual irritation is much the same thing as removing the
disposition to quarrel. Not twelve years have passed since the last
Austrian soldier marched out of Italy, yet Austria is at this moment
less unpopular with the Italians than France, and Garibaldi's death
evoked tributes of respect at Vienna. For fifteen years the whole force
of European law was employed to keep Belgium united to Holland; the
obvious interests, moreover, of all the inhabitants of the kingdom of