We are urged to
action by a beautiful ideal. The motive force must be likewise true and
beautiful. It is love of country that inspires us; not hate of the enemy
and desire for full satisfaction for the past. Pause awhile. We are all
irritated now and then by some mawkish interpretation of our motive
force that makes it seem a weakly thing, invoked to help us in evading
difficulties instead of conquering them. Love in any genuine form is
strong, vital and warm-blooded. Let it not be confused with any flabby
substitute. Take a parallel case. Should we, because of the mawkishness
of a "Princess Novelette," deride the beautiful dream that keeps ages
wondering and joyous, that is occasionally caught up in the words of
genius, as when Shelley sings: "I arise from dreams of thee"? When
foolish people make a sacred thing seem silly, let us at least be sane.
The man who cries out for the sacred thing but voices a universal need.
To exist, the healthy mind must have beautiful things--the rapture of a
song, the music of running water, the glory of the sunset and its
dreams, and the deeper dreams of the dawn. It is nothing but love of
country that rouses us to make our land full-blooded and beautiful where
now she is pallid and wasted. This, too, has its deeper significance.
V
If we want full revenge for the past the best way to get it is to remain
as we are. As we are, Ireland is a menace to England.
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