The four men who have held office as Prime Minister of the Commonwealth form, in the aggregate and as individuals, the best illustrations of the qualities just enumerated. Each has displayed a sound knowledge of human nature, evidencing the knowledge by his many-sidedness, his tact, his judgement, his mingled daring and caution, his willingness to compromise. Each has made himself readily approachable, alike to indignant people who had grievances to ventilate, to friendly people who had congratulations to utter, to newspaper people who had questions to ask—in fact to all sorts and conditions of people who used the right means of approach. And each has been endowed with the gift of speech. Two of them—Mr Reid and Mr Deakin—have exhibited it in a singular and superlative degree. Sir Edmund Barton is a speaker of the very front rank. Even Mr Watson, though not a fiery, forensic orator, is a very able debater. Only those who have heard and watched him in Parliament know how keen and capable and resourceful he really is. Quite apart from these individual instances, facts may be found to show that one may apply over the whole field of Federal and State politics the conclusions just arrived at.
To be a prominent public man in Australia it is not necessary to do great things, but to act as though you could do them, or wished to do them, or would be certain of doing them if you got the chance.
’Tis not what man does which exalts him, but
what man would do.
Achievement is dangerous, or fatal; the promise of achievement is brilliant or inspiring. The truth of the matter is that Australians are engaged, individually and collectively, in a game of which they cannot see the end. Politically speaking, they don’t yet know where they are, or where within the course of a generation they are likely to arrive.
V
PSEUDO-LITERARY
This world’s no blot for us,
Nor blank; it means intensely and means good:
To find its meaning is my meat and drink.