I have heard no new facts adduced which would justify our changing our minds on this matter. The Seanad devoted a good deal of time on the last occasion to the consideration of this case, which Senators marked by their approval or disapproval, as the case may be, in a very strong fashion. The most extraordinary thing about these hours, which are being asked for by the Dáil, is that no one in the whole country—with the exception of the Dáil—appears to want them. I would really like to know at whose instance the proposition of these extra hours or half hours was initiated.
I have gone through the country and have a pretty fair knowledge of it, pace the remark of a gentleman—a Deputy in another place — who said a week or two ago that Senators were out of touch, that they were retired, leisured and cultured individuals, and apparently innocent. I am not surprised that Senators smile at that. If the House would forgive a little egoism, I would treat them to it. It so happens that I live, for my pains, within a mile of a very prosperous town in the south-east of Ireland. It also happens that there is not a Deputy within fourteen miles of it, and it so happens that occasionally I am compelled, by the accident of geography, to do a Deputy's work. People come when they want to push or pull wires to get them out of difficulties and to do the thousand and one things that we are bound to do, in all honour and conscience, for those who elect us. After all, the duty of a Senator or of a Deputy is not merely to record a vote. If that were so, existence would be very easy indeed.
It is true to say that I come into contact with the people as much as any other man in Ireland, and I resent the imputation—whether couched in the spirit of cynical levity or whether it was, as I suspect, mere verbal tripe —that Senators are any less or any more divorced than Deputies from the public in general. It is only fair to say that, and to make that clear, for the honour of this House. I have no objection to tripe at all but, when it comes to the verbal form, I detest it. It so happens that, in the course of my peregrinations through the country, I asked several people their views on these proposed extra hours. That brings me back to the point I have been trying to elucidate. Why on earth did the Dáil decide to have these extra hours? They cannot have been trying to convenience the common people in this instance.
I took five or six people—a commercial traveller, and none of them are pussyfoots, two publicans, an agricultural worker and a town worker—and I asked them casually, not leading them up the garden path, whether they were in favour of the extra hour which was being proposed, or what they thought of it. Every one of them disclaimed the idea of desiring it in the slightest. Therefore, in this case, we are asked to give way to the Dáil and to submit to an imaginary demand, to pay tribute to an unknown body of opinion; we are asked to grant a concession that no one has asked for. I cannot understand how the units of the Dáil, severally or collectively, could have asked for these hours, when there is no demand for them.
We are now faced with a coup d'état. We are told that, if we do not pass this, it will be passed in spite of us. The suggestion is slightly minatory. Our recommendations were reasoned, well thought out and debated here. The only thing I regret is the difficulty in which this would put the Minister, who has been, then and now, so disarming in his manner that it is simply impossible to think of putting him in a difficulty. However, if there be a division on this—I am not inviting the question as to whether there will be or not—I would consider it my duty to vote against the Dáil. It may be said that we are putting the Dáil in an awkward position, but what is our existence if it be one of pure acquiescence in everything that comes from the Lower House? What precisely is the raison d'étre of our existence? I suggest that not only has there been no public demand but that, if we were to take a referendum on this matter—though that would be like using a steam hammer to crush a butterfly—these extra hours would not be asked for by one-tenth of the people.
We are told that, in the case of houses on the border, this is intended to obviate a certain difficulty that may occur. It is said that the hard case makes very bad law, and I do not know whether the "drunks" on the border would justify this one or not. As I have said already, no facts have been adduced here which would justify our stultifying ourselves on this point. Much has been made of the difficulties of the licensed trade assistants. On the last day, I spoke—long, and, I hope, to the point—on these hardships; but these hardships alone would not make a case against this extra hour. The point is, that having discussed this calmly and at length, and having given every possible consideration to it, we put forward an ordered and reasoned amendment. The Dáil now sends it back, and says that it expects us to acquiesce calmly in our subsidence, if not in our extinction. It is hardly fair to expect us to do that; this House must have some dignity left. People may say on this or that point that we should give way; but we may be faced at some time in the future with something which would threaten the Seanad's existence; and if we cannot exert ourselves to the point of carrying on our freedom, I still think we should take up a position consistent at least with the dignity of this House.