The ex-Prime Minister is a wonderful talker; and for want of anything better to talk to, he talks to public audiences. The general impression seems to be that he enjoys himself on these occasions; that he likes to hear the plaudits that greet his appearance, the laughter that echoes to his jests, even the interjections that he turns to such good account. But the writer’s opinion, derived not only from watching Mr Reid on a platform, but from private conversation with him, is that he knows himself to be mentally adapted for other and better things. What, after all, does the crowd know or care about such gifts of speech, such exquisite verbal delicacy and grace as this man possesses? True, they can appreciate what he gives them, for he is wise enough to give what they require, not what he himself knows to be most select and valuable. Whenever I think of what is rare and beautiful in the mind or heart of woman; whenever I think of those gracious and grateful beings who flitted across this planet and died in disappointment because they had found no intellectual mate; I regret that a mysterious Providence did not put me in their path after endowing me with Mr Reid’s gift of speech. It is a pity that such talent should be dissipated among the vulgar; it is a pity that it should be harnessed to any political engine; it is ten times a pity that it should have so often to put up with the wrong audience, the wrong hour, and the wrong place.
Like all great men, Mr Reid has been responsible for some erroneous impressions. One of the most popular and widespread of these is that he is, by instinct and temperament, a humorist. Nothing could be further from the truth. The late head of the Commonwealth Government is undoubtedly the most serious man that the political exigencies of Australia have ever produced. He has too much insight, too much intelligence not to be serious. Every man who possesses the faculty of making other people laugh must do so by presenting an effective contrast to their own habit of thought. In other words, he must be as different as possible from themselves. Mr Reid is entirely different in thought and disposition from ninety-nine out of every hundred of those who listen to him and laugh with him. They are volatile, fickle, amusement-loving; he is none of these. That is the reason why, when he throws for their delectation certain verbal pictures on a rhetorical screen, they laugh with such boisterous mirth and such riotous abandon. The reason why Mr Reid came to take up the rôle of jester is easy to understand. If he followed out his own inclinations, he would be either a transcendental philosopher, or a poet of the mystic school. He would never speak a word about politics, and he would never make a joke. He is too clever not to recognise the essential meanness of politics; he is too sombre in disposition not to revolt from the tinkling merriment of a crowd. But he has never got quite free from the idea that success is a desirable thing to obtain. It is the one infirmity that sticks to him. He knows that distinction for a man, physically constituted as he is, is not to be won through the channels of transcendentalism, or by the agency of the lofty rhyme. He knows that for a clever man the best and surest way to success is to play the fool. That is why he has talked on such a commonplace subject as politics to tens of thousands of people; that is why he has so successfully, so brilliantly played the fool.
As already stated, Mr Reid is too intelligent to be wedded exclusively to any one faith or shibboleth. But if he has one political leaning over another, it is in favour of Protection. It is true there is a popular idea to the contrary; but then many popular ideas flourish on the most unsubstantial foundations. There is no difficulty whatever in showing that Mr Reid’s one marked characteristic as a statesman is his fondness for Protection. The importers of New South Wales chose to make him their idol. It was not for him to object. It was apparent to him as an intelligent man that if the importer was no better, he was no worse than other people. So it came about that Mr Reid and Free Trade went hand in hand for quite a number of years. But to be strictly devoted to one faith, is to argue oneself blind to the merits of other faiths, and therefore mentally defective. To prove his catholicity of taste, Mr Reid put a few doses of Protection into the Free Trade dish which his fellow colonists were asking at his hands. When at a later stage the invitation came to him to drop fiscalism and merge his free trade in the high-tariffism of Mr Deakin, he gladly did so. There is no doubt that he was getting tired of the old formulas. How could it be otherwise? Mr Reid owes it to himself, and to his reputation as a man of broad views, to give Protection a turn, and in that direction, beyond doubt, his desire lies. There is a foolish idea, fatuously and blatantly insisted upon by newspaper writers, that, because a man has been harnessed to a party at one stage of his career he should remain harnessed to it for ever. The only universal genius is he who has come to recognise the essential quackery and futility of all political faiths now being foisted upon the community. I do not assert that Mr Reid is, or is not, a universal genius. I merely repeat that he is a man who understands. It is possible to look forward to the time when circumstances, and his own desire to be impartial, will bring him out as the champion of Protection in Australia. This is necessary to the complete and artistic balancing of his career. No one knows this better than himself. And whatever we say of G. H. Reid, whatever we think of him, whatever broad or narrow views we take of him, we are bound to admit that he touches nothing, and has touched nothing, he does not adorn.
XIII
THE IMPERIALIST
Regions Cæsar never knew
Thy posterity shall sway.
The Imperialist plays an important part in the life of Australia. His influence is to be detected everywhere. It is not always proclaimed in words or manifested in deeds; but, like a subtle essence, it runs through every political and social institution of the country. No one can pretend to understand what goes on in this part of the world unless he makes allowance for the curious blending of the Imperialistic with the local point of view. The two currents do not always flow in unison; but if it were a question of opposing forces, the Imperialist would always carry the day. He is predominant both in the political and in the social world. He is much stronger than his occasional rival, the little “Australian.” He colours most of the legislation, and insensibly affects the habit of thought of the people. Take away the Imperialist from Australia, or even reduce him to a minority, and an entirely new set of conditions, a fresh pathway of national development, would come immediately into view.
The man who calls himself by this term, or even the man who, without assertiveness, acknowledges that it applies to him, is apt to believe that all who differ from him are small-souled and narrow-minded persons. He is inclined to be egotistically self-righteous. He talks of Imperialism as though it were not merely a justifiable political creed, but something superior in the realm of philosophy, something splendid in the domain of morals. The word itself is a large and impressive one. It conjures up wide expanses of territory, great vistas of achievement. It affords unrivalled opportunities for mouth-filling rhetoric and for fine-sounding, platform periods. Its every association is calculated to impress the receptive mind. There need be no astonishment, therefore, at the fact that those who confine themselves to the local point of view, and acknowledge no fondness for world-stretching dominions, are not highly regarded by the majority in Australia.
Yet it is by no means difficult to show that the essential doctrines of Imperialism are incapable of defence either from the rationalist or from the ethical standpoint. They are, in fact, both illogical and immoral. They are illogical, because they are based on the assumption that a wide expanse of territory can be better looked after by a central authority, than can a relatively small district. They ignore the elementary truth that every community is the best judge of its own requirements. The Imperialist is not satisfied to let any one alone. Every race, as far as practicable, must come under the yoke which he himself acknowledges. Every individual must slumber under the form of Government which he himself prescribes. He believes, quite illogically, that his own prestige is in some fashion enhanced whenever his countrymen dethrone another potentate or lay hands on a fresh piece of territory. He is convinced that the welfare of Australia is enhanced by the circumstance that certain gentlemen, living at a very remote distance, can, if they so choose, veto some of our most important pieces of legislation, and overset some of our most intimate concerns.