rather sinister meaning. They associate with it--wrongly in my view
and in your view--the idea of exploitation, of riding roughshod over
the world, of jingoism and of selfishness in public policy. It was
not that to Lord Milner, and it is not that to us. It is rather
this--the spreading throughout such parts of the world as we control,
or in which we have influence, of all those ideas of law, order, and
justice which we believe to be peculiar to our own race. It is to
help people who belong to a backward civilisation, wisely to raise
them in the scale of civilisation--an extraordinarily difficult task,
and one which needs wisdom for its consummation. There is no country
in the world upon whom that task has been imposed to the same degree
as our own country, and it is undoubtedly by the way in which we
fulfil that task that we shall be judged at the bar of history, not
perhaps so much to-day, but by those who come after us of our own
blood.
We have made a start, so far as our own Empire is concerned, by
setting up an Imperial Economic Committee to try to bring about still
closer bonds commercially between the Dominions and the Mother
Country. All attempts to-day must be to a certain extent tentative.
But I am quite convinced, having regard to the sentiment throughout
the Empire, that we are approaching along a line that affords the
best chance of our laying the foundation to-day for something upon
which a far mightier edifice may be built in years to come. I am
convinced, too, we are only at the beginning of what can be done by
intelligent co-operation of the Mother Country with the Colonies and
the Empire in developing them for the benefit not only of themselves
and ourselves, but of the Empire as a whole.
It is upon that point I want to say a few words to you in Oxford. I
often used to wonder whether it was possible that this world of ours
had existed an unknown period, and mankind had struggled on in its
upward course through countless generations of toil and tribulation,
so that a few of us might be able to come to Oxford and Cambridge to
enjoy ourselves and to pass on, taking the cream of civilisation. It
always seemed to me that if all we have to show for what humanity is
suffering was a little privileged generation in a corner of the world
like this, the whole thing, creation and evolution, became something
puny and ridiculous. It seemed to me that for us who have the
enormous inestimable privilege of being born into this country in
positions where we can come here, and where to a certain extent we
choose what we do in the world, that really after all that has been
given to us, and after all that we have enjoyed, and with a vivid
recollection of what this world has passed through within the last
ten years, there is nothing else for this generation to do than to
devote itself as no generation has done in the past to the betterment
of its millions of people who have not got our advantages.
We have, or we can have if we like, what the whole of this country is
crying out for to-day, and that is education. Never was the need for
educated men in each country of the Empire greater than it is to-day.
The greatest loss that the war has imposed on this country is the
loss of a whole generation of men who to-day would be between the
ages of thirty and forty-five, able to carry on and take over the big
jobs; and they were wiped out. Where many years ago there were men
to be reckoned in dozens to take over responsible and arduous duties
throughout the Empire and at home, now there are but handfuls, and
never was the call to service and the demand for service more clamant
than to-day. Now there are many kinds of service for which you can
offer yourself; for those who have fitted themselves for it, if there
is no immediate call for you into professions at home, think how the
Empire needs you to-day to make the rough places smooth in all the
corners of the world, to train and educate people lower than we are
in the scale of civilisation, to go out to the great Dominions and
help them in the problems set before them. And, apart from all
those, what a field there is to-day for the best men that we can send
to India, for this reason--for this and the next generation, the most
difficult work in the Empire must necessarily be in that great
country, work demanding sympathy, knowledge, courage, and
intelligence of the highest order.
I hope it may never be said that in any part of the Empire when the
call comes for workers, the one part where the call is most urgent,
where the work is most difficult, and the future is most obscure,
could be the one part where the call is not answered. If that should
be the case it would be a proof of what I deny, but what some people
maintain, that the courage, the initiative, and the spirit of
adventure of our people, to which we owe the Empire and all that we
are--that that spirit, if not dead, is dormant. I will never believe
that.
Let me tell you at this point one story of Lord Milner, which I
expect will be new to most of you. I tell it to you, not only to
show you, if you have any doubt, what manner of man he was, but to
show you what the finest type of Englishman at his best can be; the
type that all of us would wish to emulate. Twenty-two years ago Lord
Milner had completed about two years of work in the restoration of
South Africa, one of the most difficult tasks to which any man had
ever been called upon to devote himself, and, by confession on all
hands, he had accomplished a work which it is doubtful if anyone else
could have accomplished. His praise was in all men's mouths. He was
a man who loved his own home in his own country, never so happy as
when in England, and there came to him at that moment an offer from
Lord Balfour to come home as Secretary of State for the Colonies, a
task for which he was peculiarly fitted, and in every way he would
have delighted in the work. He declined--and why? He declined it
because he knew that, in spite of the success he had achieved, there
were coming years of the utmost difficulty in South Africa, years in
which probably he would lose all the popularity he had won, years in
which possibly his success might be turned into failure, and he said,
"No, no, I am not going to go away from here and take the credit of
accomplishments up to this point and leave someone else to come out
now to face what must be years of difficulty and distress. I am
going to see them through myself."
The public did not know that. That shows the finest temper, the
finest spirit in which an Englishman could possibly do and face his
work, and I would like to take to myself as an exemplar and a pattern
that method of looking at my problems and facing my work. I would
ask all of you, happy to have your lives before you, to keep a model
of that kind ever present in your hearts and minds to be with you if
you are ever called upon to face times of hardship and of difficulty.
I make no apology to you when his loss is fresh, and I am sure is in
all your hearts, and when it is weighing heavily on all of us who
knew and loved him, for putting before an Oxford audience the
inspiring example of one of her greatest sons, especially as the
objects at which he aimed and the spirit in which he worked are the
objects at which our party aims to-day, the spirit in which I hope
and believe we work at a time like this, when the party to which we
all belong is more united in its determination than it has ever been
to follow in the steps of those who have set before everything the
improvement of the material condition of our people, and of the whole
of our Empire. Work to that end is to be achieved only by keeping in
ourselves a bright and burning spiritual ideal, which alone can give
us strength to perform the task to which we have set our hands.
LORD OXFORD
AT THE GUILDHALL
13_th May_, 1925
I propose to dwell, not on Lord Oxford the statesman, but on the Mr.
Asquith whom we, in the House of Commons, whether we agree with him
or not, have always respected and admired for a generation. For many
years, as a humble back-bencher, I had my individuality, my hopes and
my ambitions trampled under foot by those marching legions of which
for so many years Mr. Asquith was the head. But all through that
time I recognised, as all of us do, the stability of his character,
the serenity of his temper, his freedom from jealousies and enmities,
the magnitude of his mind and the plenitude of his utterance. We
felt that in him we had a master of our tongue. In his speech he
could be not only sonorous, but, what does not always go with it,
luminous; not only massive at times, but really humorous. And he
never supported his arguments with any extraneous helps, such as Dr.
Johnson alluded to when he spoke of orators "who employ laboured
gesticulation and think that they can impress themselves on audiences
by rolling their eyes, puffing their cheeks, spreading abroad their
arms, or stamping on the ground." There was with him always that
reticence and reserve that belong essentially to the Roman and the
Englishman rather than to the Greek and the Celt.
It is a curious thing that there was a Lord Oxford who preceded him
by some two centuries, and if we look back on what was said about him
by Swift, particularly, you get a not wholly imperfect picture of the
Mr. Asquith whom we knew and respected so much. Listen to these few
sentences, which, I think, might with very little change have been
written to-day about Lord Oxford:
"Easy and disengaged in private conversation with such a weight of
affairs upon his shoulders: of great learning, and as great a
favourer and protector of it; intrepid by nature, as well as by
consciousness of his own integrity; a despiser of money, a firm
friend, and a placable enemy: sacrificing his justest resentment not
only to the public good, but to the common intercession and
acknowledgment. Yet with all these virtues"--here, I think, the
truth will hold--"there is some mixture of human infirmity. His
greatest admirers must confess his skill at cards and dice to be very
low and superficial. Of horse-racing he is entirely ignorant."
I would like to finish on the note on which I began. My own
admiration for Lord Oxford arose primarily from the admiration I have
for his speeches, and I can recall three outstanding ones, very
different in their kind, but which, I think, every old House of
Commons man will agree with me were instances of perfect speech. One
was the speech Lord Oxford made on the death of Alfred Lyttelton.
The second was the last speech he made in the House of Commons, a
speech full of humour and Parliamentary skill, and one which led more
than anything else directly to the fall of the late Government.
Lastly, there was the great speech he delivered on 6th August, 1914,
in which he put before this country and the world the principles of
constitutional freedom as opposed to despotism in a manner in which
they can never have been stated since the time of Edmund Burke.
He has taught us--those of us in the House of Commons and all
students of politics to-day--not only to love our mother tongue more,
if possible, than we have loved it in the past, but also the
possibilities of that tongue when it is properly used. He has given
us an example by which some of us, if we apply ourselves, and if we
have the ability to profit by his example, may some day be able
ourselves to speak English.
_ON THE NATION AND THE CHURCHES_
RELIGION AND POLITICS
FROM A SPEECH AT THE LANGHAM HOTEL
11_th February_, 1926
Many people, I fear, to-day fail to realise the very critical
character of the period through which the world is passing. There is
nothing the country needs so much as another Wesley or Whitefield.
Those spiritual movements, such as occurred in the eighteenth
century, led largely by Wesley, have come up from time to time in the
history of the human race. Their spirit is always the same, though
the form is different. Had Wesley been born four centuries earlier,
he would have been Wesley just the same, but he would have worn a
rough robe girded with a cord and have founded a great body of
preaching friars. I confess I am not sure, if a Wesley or a St.
Francis arose to-day, that to found a body of preaching friars would
not be the best thing they could do for the world. To-day the world
seems more irreligious than it has ever been in the Christian era.
Irresponsible pleasure-seeking and prodigal luxury abound;
church-going has lost the hold it had in our childhood; and
candidates for the Ministry are less in number than in years past.
But I believe this condition of affairs will pass. The side of
Christianity which takes into view all kinds of activities for the
social betterment of the people is the side which most appeals to the
present generation. Undoubtedly there is as much philanthropic and
altruistic work done by all kinds of people as has ever been done.
I find the study of the various types in the House of Commons a very
interesting occupation. I find there, especially among the Labour
Party, many men who fifty years ago would inevitably have gone into
the Christian Ministry. They have been drawn into political life
from a deep desire to help the people. Such men are common in all
parties to-day. These are facts which relieve the darkness of the
outlook. Things will change again. We must not let ourselves
imagine, amidst the changes of the day, though the very foundations
are cracking, that the things we hold most precious are going to pass
away. I certainly agree with many observers that since the war the
manifest forces of Satan have been more conspicuously at large. But
the very manifestation of these forces is calling other forces into
the field.
On this account I feel it to be so important that a Church like yours
should send its quota of young men into politics to-day. Political
work is of enormous importance at this time. We do not all realise
in what a changed world we are living. Superficially it is a
frivolous world, full of "jazzing" and pre-occupation with pleasure,
but under the surface it is intensely serious. I believe the
electorate is intensely anxious to listen to men who have sincerely
at heart the uplifting of the nation.
Many of those who seem to be running most wild in their political
views are men who have been led astray by insufficient education or
experience, but are truly desirous of bettering their country.
Therefore, I believe that men who will sincerely and honestly embrace
political life with the idea of helping the community (no matter to
what party they belong), are wanted in these days. This, coupled
with the desire of service, will defeat the menacing forces which
threaten us. If, in consequence of words spoken this night, some of
the young men connected with the Wesleyan Methodist Church feel the
call to political work, it will be of great advantage to the
Commonwealth, for the political career properly viewed is really a
kind of Ministry.
THE CHURCH ARMY
AT A MEETING OF THE CHURCH ARMY IN QUEEN'S HALL
7_th May_, 1925
I am afraid I have been talking too much during the last few days.
On Tuesday I was talking to newspaper men about truth; on Wednesday I
was talking to artists about beauty; and now I am at this great
meeting, the note of which and the key to which are goodness, truth
and beauty, which surely make a perfect trinity, since no man can be
leading the ideal life unless he has these things combined in unity
in himself.
I think that perhaps we are awakening more and more to the deeper
spiritual impulses and to their importance in the life of the
country. When we read (or used to read) history, we find a great
deal one hundred and two hundred years ago about politics, kings and
battles, but very little about a man called John Wesley. Yet, as the
years go by, historians have begun to say that it was the lives of
men like Wesley and Whitefield, and what they taught the people of
this country, that really were the significant factors in moulding
the character of the people and of the leaders of the people, and
that it is largely owing to the spirit which they, and men like them,
breathed throughout England, that the immense impetus was given to
the reforms--social and religious--which took place in the country
during the last century, and which helped, in spite of a thousand
difficulties and evil things on the other side, to make the rough
path smoother and to kindle afresh the Divine spark in the hearts of
men.
So, when the history of the nineteenth century comes to be written, I
believe there will stand out the names of two men, William Booth and
Wilson Carlile, who represent the spiritual revolt voiced before them
by Ruskin and many another against the ugliness of life, and its sin
and its blind devotion to nothing but material progress. I have
always thought that if Mr. Carlile had lived many centuries ago,
instead of to-day, he would have been one of the first of the
Franciscans. He has shown the country what the Church of England can
do, and there has been no risk for him of sharing the fate that fell
to John Wesley, and of another schism being unnecessarily caused
among the people of God in this land.
The record of the Church Army is a modern chapter in the Acts of the
Apostles, and its work is as inspired as anything of which we read in
the sacred Scriptures. The Church Army is a living testimony of what
a life of Divine love can mean in the hearts of ordinary men and
women. Whatever controversies rage--doctrinal, theological--among
men who profess religion, they go on their way and combine to give a
glorious demonstration of personal devotion in the service of men.
The activities of the Church Army are innumerable--in emigration,
recreation and good, honest mirth, preaching--but, above all, coming
to the rescue of fallen humanity. When I think of this I cannot help
feeling, as I look around this room, that there can be no life on
this earth in which men may be more sure to find real happiness than
in this life of perpetual self-sacrifice. We may look in vain in the
faces of those whose life is one constant search for illusive
pleasures to see the radiant expressions which I have noticed in all
parts of this great audience.
The work of many of you is not only among the poor and unfortunate,
but among men and women who are the broken results of life in this
age--men and women who, in many cases, have lost not only work and
health, but what is far more difficult to make good, their spirit,
temper, morale, courage and faith. Yet the Church Army goes out to
its work preserving that spirit of health and happiness which is its
motto. It shows that the more men will give their lives to service
and the more impossible the tasks they try to achieve, the more is
the grace given them in that fight, the brighter their faith burns,
and the more they are able to radiate among those with whom they work
that spirit of confidence, hope and happiness which the world needs
and desires so much. I have watched your work with the deepest and
most heartfelt sympathy and admiration, and I only wish that I
personally was competent to do it. You look in the most unlikely
places for that spark of the Divine which exists in every human soul.
You search until you find it, and then you blow on it with the spirit
of love till you have blown it into a flame, however feeble; and so
you have one more to testify to the eternal truth that love alone in
this world is the conqueror, and that by love alone can the nations
be brought into the paths of peace, and that to pursue and attain
love is the one thing needful.
CHRISTIAN IDEALS
AT THE NATIONAL FREE CHURCH CONFERENCE
12_th March_, 1925
You have taken the opportunity to waylay and entrap a singularly busy
man on his way to make an ordinary political speech, and you have
brought him to speak to you this afternoon for a few moments before
an assembly distinctly representative of a great deal of the
religious movement and religious thought of the country. Curiously
enough, this is the first occasion, I think, on which I have ever
addressed a body directly concerned with any of the churches. I have
in the past always been reluctant to speak at those gatherings,
possibly from the Englishman's fear of saying in the excitement of a
public audience more than he really felt or really believed, knowing
as a public man the temptation of winning easy applause by saying
comfortable things, by saying things that perhaps are an exaggeration
of what one really feels oneself, with the inevitable result, so
often seen, that the more popular one becomes as a speaker the
greater is the tendency to spiritual atrophy in the individual.
Now, the first thought that naturally occurs to me at an assembly of
this kind is the difference between the work that lies before the
politician and the work that lies before the Christian minister. I
represent here and in this visit the State; you represent the Church.
You are the Guelphs and I am the Ghibellines, and there are some
marked points of difference that it may help us to dwell upon for a
few moments. But, tempting as the theme would be, I have neither the
time to-day nor even the inclination to dwell on the struggles, the
secular struggles, that have taken place between Church and State,
and the great part played in these struggles and the development of
life in our country by the Free Churches of England.
In many ways, in that struggle, I think we may say that we have often
been in religious life far in advance, as we ought to be, of
political life. For, while it is true that in distant ages long past
representatives of Christianity tried to drive mankind into their
fold by stern measures, by execution and by fire, we have left those
things far behind us, and it has remained in the last century for
wild and extreme men in some parts of the world to apply, in trying
to make mankind believe their political doctrines, weapons which have
been given up by the Christian for more centuries than I like to
think of.
I, in my capacity as a politician, have to deal with mankind in the
mass. You, in the life of your churches, have to deal with the
individual; and the difference lies in this, that the problems of
life come to us wholesale, as it were. We have columns of figures
before us of unemployment, for instance. You don't trouble about
columns of figures, but you all, in your lives and in your ministry,
when you think of unemployment, think of the man and the woman and
the child; and while we are devising methods of helping, so far as we
can, you have vividly before you the daily increase in the
hopelessness, the daily increase in the lack of skill, the daily
increase in the lack of morale. It may well be that you feel, as you
must at times, impatient with those, to whatever party they may
belong, who are attempting to govern this great country, for their
inability at once to find something that will alleviate the troubles
from which our people suffer to-day.
There is another aspect of this. Parliament represents all the
citizens in a way that religious bodies cannot. Your membership is
voluntary. We are all born members of the State, and you have an
excluding discipline which we in politics have not. You can supply
selective tests both to your members and to your ministers--tests of
character, tests of knowledge, tests of belief--and you can make them
obedient to a rule of life. I can do none of these things and,
indeed, I have only to try to do the best I can with the tools I
have, which means to work the existing institutions of the country so
far as I conceive it to the best advantage of the multitudinous
interests of her citizens. Then again, while you have, and all
churches have, their rule of life, you cannot say that there is any
definite code laid down for all political parties. My party have no
political bible. Possibly you might find our ideals best expressed
in one of Disraeli's novels, but I have no power to make people read
them, and I have no power to compel them to belief.
It would ill become me to say what may be the bible, if there be such
a book, of the Liberal Party. The party that can claim more than any
of the others to have a religious code to-day is the Labour Party,
because they still have the Marxian _Capital_, but, as a matter of
fact, that book has been subject, as other books, to the higher
criticism for some years past, and what will happen when the results
of higher criticism percolate to the lower intelligence I have little
idea.