The Scotsman, in many ways, regards the Englishman from the same angle
as the American. He shares the American's unconcealed anxiety to get to
the root of the matter, and cannot understand a man who pretends that he
does not want to get to the root of the matter, too. To a Scotsman, "ma
career" (as John Shand used to call it in Barrie's play) is the one
important fact of life; and although the most reserved creature in the
world, he possesses none of the Englishman's self-consciousness; and it
never occurs to him to do anything so palpably insincere as to disown
his legitimate ambitions. To a Scotsman, then, the English are a
frivolous, feckless race, devoid of ambition, and incapable of handling
weighty matters with the required degree of seriousness. So he comes to
London and takes the helm. To-day a Scot is leading the British Army in
France,[1] another is commanding the British Grand Fleet at sea,[2]
while a third directs the Imperial General Staff at home.[3] The Lord
Chancellor is a Scot[4]; so are the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the
Foreign Secretary.[5] (The Prime Minister is a Welshman[6], and The
First Lord of the Admiralty is an Irishman.[7]) Yet no one has ever yet
brought in a bill to give Home Rule to England!
Take the Dominions again. What is the attitude of Canada, Australasia,
and South Africa to the mother country? Well, previous to the War it
must be confessed that the sons of the Empire regarded their parent with
a certain good-humoured tolerance, not unmixed with irritation. The
British Dominions overseas are peopled by an essentially independent and
sturdy race. They are descended from folk who left their native land and
braved the unknown, not because they were sent, but because an
adventurous spirit bade them go forth and better themselves. The British
colonies and dominions were all founded by younger sons, or men in
search of a career. They were never in the first instance fathered by
the State, as such. It was only after British interests in these distant
lands grew too great and unwieldy for private control that the British
Government reluctantly and tardily took over their management
officially. Men sprung from such a stock are naturally impatient of
stay-at-home folk who regard the British Empire as "England," and who
speak patronisingly of "Colonials."
These little differences were purely superficial, and by the subtle
irony of fate it was left to Germany to demonstrate how very superficial
they were. But they undoubtedly existed, very largely owing to the fact
that some--only some--of the later immigrants into the Dominions were of
a less hardy and desirable type than formerly--men who had come abroad
not from any spirit of enterprise or adventure, but because they had
been a failure at home. Such men were neither industrious nor adaptable.
It was this class that was responsible for the occasional appearance in
Canada and Australia of the legend: "No English need apply." Another
injustice to England as a whole!
India, again. Here "Pax, Britannica" exists in its highest and most
creditable form. India is mainly governed by English university men,
selected after laborious preparation and searching examination, from all
walks of life. Each of these men is a living exemplification of the
British supreme talent--the talent for efficient departmental work in a
subordinate position. He may rule a district containing several million
souls, and so long as he rules it, he will rule justly according to his
lights, and he will not make a penny out of the operation. In due course
he will return to England, and live in honourable obscurity upon a
modest pension. But all this will not save him from being denounced as a
tyrant and interloper. The hill tribes of the north will cast resentful
glances upon the man who represents the power which holds them back from
the delectable plunderland of the south; while in Bengal over-educated
Babus will bleat indignantly, regardless of the inevitable consequences
to their property and their women, for the immediate withdrawal of the
officious and unnecessary British rule from India. A thankless
existence, my masters, yet somehow worth while, despite endless
drudgery, absence of personal distinction, and years of absence from
home and children. The Ship goes forward!
On the Continent of Europe, again, the English are regarded with varying
degrees of affection or dislike; but their appraisers are all unanimous
in regarding them as slightly demented. To the French, for instance, the
English Tommy, with his uncanny frivolity in the face of death, his
passion for tea and jam, and his eternal football games behind the
trenches, is a standing enigma and jest. But Frenchmen will always
remember how the little British Army hurled itself to certain
destruction, in August, 1914, at the mere call of friendship, and French
women will never, never forget the exemplary behaviour of the British
soldiers toward the civil population behind the line.
As for the German, his opinion can be succinctly summarised. Before the
War he regarded the Englishman from a military point of view as a
negligible quantity, from the commercial point of view as a back-number,
and from the diplomatic point of view as the easiest thing on earth.
Now, according to latest official intelligence from Potsdam, it was the
reptile statesmanship of England that conspired with France and Russia
to invade peaceful Germany, and it is "English gold" that has lured the
people of America to disastrous participation in the common doom of the
Allies. As a soldier, the Englishman has done better than Potsdam
expected: but only by shameful contravention of the usages of war. The
Prussian is a great stickler for etiquette in this respect. War to him,
whether he be emitting chlorine gas or sinking a hospital ship, is a
serious--nay, sacred--business. But the imbecile English persist in
regarding war as a game. What is worse, they win the game. Not long ago
a regiment of "Kitchener's Army" captured a strongly fortified village
from the Prussian Guard. That was bad enough, but the manner in which it
was done amounted to nothing less than an outrageous breach of
professional etiquette. They went to the assault kicking a football!
Their commander kicked off, and they never stopped until they had kicked
the ball, riddled with bullets, into the trench and captured the
garrison. And yet the English have the temerity to complain of German
breaches of International Law! Yes, I fear the English are most harshly
spoken of in Germany just now.
There remains one other point of view to consider, and that is the Irish
point of view. It must have a chapter to itself. Ireland usually gets a
chapter to herself.