ssion left by his death that it
seemed at times as if his thought had been true.

Yet one aspect of it was overlooked by many--the loss inflicted on his
brother, the Irish leader. It was not merely that Redmond lost the sole
near kinsman of his generation; he lost in him the closest of those
comrades who had been allied with him in all the stages of his life's
fight. The veterans of the old party had been vanishing rapidly from the
scene; name succeeded name quickly on our death-roll. This death left
Redmond lonely, and sorely stricken in his affections. But it did more.
It deprived him of a counsellor, and perhaps the only counsellor he had
who temperamentally shared his own point of view. More especially now in
the war, when the leader's wisdom in giving the lead which he had given
began to be gravely questioned even by his own supporters, it was
invaluable for him to have backing from one who had taken the war as
part of his life's creed--who knew no hesitancies, no reserves in his
conviction that the right course had been followed, for the right thing
was to do the right. Finally and chiefly, Willie Redmond was the only
man who could break through his brother's constitutional reserve and
could force him into discussion. In the months that were to come such a
man was badly needed. The loss of him meant to John Redmond a loss of
personal efficiency. Sorrow gave a strong grip to depression on a
brooding mind which had always a proneness to melancholy, which was now
linked with a sick body, and which lived among disappointments and grief
and the sense of rancorous dislike in men who once thought it a
privilege to cheer him on his passing.

Add to all this that Redmond's one hope for Ireland now lay in the
Convention, and that he collated with good reason on his soldier
brother's influence there--as no man could fail to do who had seen the
effect which his last speech produced upon the House of Commons.

No doubt, however, part of the service which Willie Redmond rendered to
Ireland in dying lay in the sympathy which he conciliated to his
leader--in whom men saw, rightly, not only his nearest kinsman, but the
representative of the principles for which the soldier-politician died.
The sympathy was genuine and it was widespread; yet so reserved was John
Redmond that few, I think, guessed how deeply the blow had struck home.
Still less did they realize how much was meant by the bereavement which
followed immediately. Pat