Standish O'Grady; selected essays and passages

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8
STANDISH O'gRADY
there was then no daily Conservative press, perusing
whose vituperation of the wickedness of Cairbre they
might be comforted, while it was a far and foolish cry to
Cassibelaunus, Roman Agricola, or whoever then managed
or mismanaged transpontine affairs. Nor will I deny,
that you, too, in spite of your long record of folly and
worse, had you six years since, when the revolt began,
been taken wisely in hand by one who could compel you
to obey, would have as effectually suppressed your own
mutineers. For mutiny is not dear to the heart of man.
But even then, the road was strait, the path rough, steep,
laborious, and the enchanted land was nigh, coercion-
strewn with soft invitations to ease and sweet slumber.
Well, you have slept, slept to be awakened rather terribly,
and, awakening, to find the road six times straiter, and the
path six times more rough and laborious. Yet, till the
life is out of men's bodies, there is hope, and I will not say
that it is even now too late to recall the lost years. Had
I thought so, I would not have written this book.*
But before I treat of what is yet possible, provided
you screw your courage to the head, shunning no peril
and shirking no duty, however rough, let me remind you
of what, as a class, you have lost, what splendid oppor-
tunities thrown away, what a glorious heritage wasted
seeking that sort of pleasure which, like the prophet's
scroll, is so sweet in the mouth and so bitter when eaten.
The average ground rental of all Ireland, cities, towns,
town parks included, can hardly have been less during the
century than twenty millions a year. Why, the revenue
• Toryism and the Tory Democracy.