fortunate enough to have the _entrée_ was one occupied by a very
prominent K.C., Sir Josiah Symons. It occupies an ideal situation in
the hills, and is, I should say, almost perfect in its surroundings and
its climate. With most pardonable pride my host pointed out how it had
grown up under his loving care from the smallest and most unpretentious
beginnings until now it was what I saw it--a home as beautiful within
and without as the heart of man could desire, a veritable abode of
peace, and quiet, unostentatious luxury. This is an exceedingly
pleasant feature of the life out here, the numbers of men who are now
enjoying the fruits of a laborious life, and who look back upon their
small beginnings with the greatest complacency and entire absence of
that pomposity which at home, alas! so often marks the _nouveau riche_.
These men, so far from being ashamed of the pit from which they were
digged, evince the greatest delight in fighting their early battles
over again. And they are mostly distinguished for their intense loyalty
to the Motherland, while at the same time they are desperately jealous
of their neighbours, and until you understand them you would imagine
that they actually hated the other States who go to make up the great
Australian Commonwealth. I have had to learn quite a new nomenclature
since I have been here. I find that the use of the words Colonies and
Colonial is steadily discouraged. They talk now of the States, the
Interstate communications, not Colonial. Only a trifle perhaps to us,
but to these strenuous Australians nothing of that kind is trifling.
But, indeed, there is a curious confusion rampant just now in
Australian political matters which is to a visitor from Britain fairly
conversant with the State and aims of parties at home almost if not
entirely incomprehensible. The Commonwealth leaders and the State
leaders are not seldom at loggerheads, if one may judge by their public
utterances, and the differences between Labour men, Socialists, and
Conservatives, are very difficult to define. It is a veritable hornet's
nest for an outsider to interfere with, but there is one comfort at
any rate to a Briton that loves the Empire, and that is the spirit
of loyalty to the Crown which is manifested by all parties. It is a
sort of common ground upon which all can meet, although a cynical
observer would probably suggest that it had no real cohesive value.
There is another thing, too, which I think gives hope for the future
of this marvellous country, and that is the fact that all parties now
seem to be fairly in accord upon the population question. They all
seem to realise that it is nothing short of ridiculous to expect this
vast country to hold its own with such a trifling population as it
possesses. With an area much larger than that of the United States,
and a population of only one-seventeenth roughly, of that of the great
Republic, while the two great cities of Sydney and Melbourne between
them absorb almost one-fourth of the entire population of Australasia,
it must indeed be a hard task to avoid seeing what an enormous waste
of opportunities for men to rise and hew out fortune and position is
going on. It only remains for Australians to agree as to the method
of peopling their country, to divert to themselves the streams of
capable and energetic Anglo-Saxons who yearly flow into the United
States. Very cordially do I endorse the determination of Australasian
rulers to keep out wastrels, incapables, and work-shy men. There is
already far too great a number of these loafing about in the big towns
for the industrious population to support, and, obviously, to import
more of these anæmic parasites would be to waste the resources of the
Australian States in an ever-increasing ratio.
But I am straying too far from beautiful Adelaide, where I now am, into
generalities. When riding about these lovely hills and valleys, where
all the fruits of the earth that grow in temperate and sub-tropical
zones flourish with incredible luxuriance, I have often asked the
question whether this splendid fertility and wide extent of cultivable
land was confined to the neighbourhood of the city and diminished
in both quality and quantity up-country. And I have been repeatedly
assured that it was not so, that Nature was amazingly lavish all over
the southern portions of the great Central State, that farms could be
had at tiny rentals, or at amounts of purchase-money which to us at
home seem like a joke, but the difficulty was to find a market. So
small a population of consumers is so very easily supplied. That was to
me effectually demonstrated by the prices at which grapes of all kinds,
the most splendid apples and pears and peaches, &c., among fruit and
vegetables of all kinds, were sold, while all the necessities of life,
such as bread, meat, tea, sugar, milk, &c., are equally cheap--so
cheap that a mechanic or labourer can live well and be comfortably
housed for the sum of 15s. per week; and to counterbalance this a
journeyman mechanic's wages average 10s. a day of eight hours, while
labourers' wages are 6s. per day. The case of the shop assistants and
waiters, clerks, &c., is equally favourable, while certainly clothing
and house-rent compare very favourably with prices obtaining in England
for these necessities. Luxuries are undoubtedly more expensive than
they are at home, especially spirits; wine, if the workman will drink
the splendid produce of his own country, being marvellously cheap and
good. But as with us, what eats the very heart out of the workman is
so-called sport, and the inseparable gambling consequent thereupon.
There is a great deal of leisure for enjoyment, which I feel sure is
indulged in to the highest degree, and if it were not for the appalling
waste of money in gambling would be of the highest benefit to the
community at large.
What is so hard to understand about a country like this, where the
working man is so strenuously in evidence in politics and shows such
eager interest in what concerns himself politically, in the strongest
possible contrast to our workers at home, who may be, and are, led
astray by the veriest claptrap as far removed from truth as it is
possible to be, is, how he does not see that this gambling mania of
his has raised up a vast horde of parasites who do nothing for their
kind but fleece them, who are the scourge and pest of society, and to
whose interest it is that the man who _earns_ money shall part with it
without value received. The old _tu quoque_ argument about the Stock
Exchange and the poor man being debarred from the pleasures of the rich
can only appeal to the wilfully blind, for if my neighbour, in the
exercise of his freedom to do what he will with his own, chooses to cut
off his fingers and reduce himself to a helpless cripple, surely that
is no reason why I, equally free, should go and do likewise.
However, as the simile is somewhat stale, and the argument has been
also used almost threadbare, it is not over-profitable to pursue it
too far, but freely admit that with all these factors taken into
consideration the prosperity of the country is undeniable, and that
prosperity would be amazingly intensified if only there were more
people. The one great drawback and danger to this magnificent country
is its lack of population--a statement which cannot be too often
repeated--and the parochial views of its politicians. Quite rightly,
they look upon the comfort and well-being of their own folks as the
primal consideration, before which all others fade into insignificance;
but quite wrongly, and in purblind fashion, they fail to perceive
that the maintenance of that comfort depends at present entirely upon
the ability of Great Britain to protect them by her Navy. The total
contribution of the Australasian States is at present £240,000 per
annum, and it is voted grudgingly, as if the Old Country had no right
to expect it. But no one in power seems to grasp the fact that the
toiling millions in Britain are being taxed to maintain an expenditure
of over forty millions upon the Navy, or an average of £1 per head of
the population. If Australasia, whose need of protection from foreign
aggression is just as great as ours, were taxed in the same proportion
for the same purpose, its contribution to the upkeep of the Imperial
Navy would be twenty times as much as it now is, or £4,000,000 per
annum. And I dare say that it would not be any too great a price to
pay for the security enjoyed. Australasia is building up a splendid
Mercantile Marine of her own, she lays heavy burdens upon the Old
Country shipowner as well as the foreigner who wishes to trade upon her
coasts, for the benefit of her home-bred sailor-citizens; but as far as
any ordinary eye can see she begrudges a penny for national insurance
in case the Old Country gets her hands full at any time, as she may
most easily do.
However, let us hope that Australasia will be wise in time and
recognise the possibility of the Labour party in England taking the
same sort of view as the regnant party in Australasia. For if they do,
and in refusing to vote supplies for the upkeep of a Navy to protect
people who do not want, apparently, to be protected, or who are unable
to see the absolute helplessness of their country unaided in the face
of a hostile attack by a great foreign Power, they take a leaf out of
the Australian politician's book, there will be wigs upon the green at
once.
I feel very strongly tempted to dip into statistics, which are
available to anybody at home who cares to know, but must refrain except
in the most casual way. But if ever figures were fascinating, surely
they are here. South Australia, or, as it should more rightly be
called, Central Australia, since it extends from South to North right
across the vast continent, possesses an area of 578,361,600 acres,
with a population less than that of the borough of Islington, or, at
the census of December, 1902, 365,791. The average private wealth per
head is about £250, the value of production between ten and twelve
millions a year, and the debt per head (mostly, however, for productive
works) is nearly £100. But this represents only a taxation of less
than £2 per annum per head of the population. Best of all, as has been
well said, the producer is king! The man who cultivates or mines, or
breeds cattle and sheep, is the backbone of the community, and this,
of course, in a new country, is as it should be. The manufacturer is
daily growing in importance, his efforts carefully fostered so that the
pauper labour of Europe shall not make those efforts nugatory, and the
business man has a splendid field for his energies also.
Yes, it is a wonderful country, where Nature is ready to yield up
to man's labour in most bounteous profusion her richest treasures,
but where at present _men_ are wanting. The great need of the
country is labour--intelligent, willing, healthy labour. It is a
white man's country, and white it should be and may remain if only
white men are allowed to come in and settle there, as it appears at
last they are being invited to do. But it will need some time to
elapse before the object-lessons given to our workmen at home by the
short-sighted political action of Labour leaders out here has died out
of intending emigrants' memories, and the public interest at home is
partly transferred from Canada, the astutest of all the Colonies, to
Australasia, by far the richest of them all.
V
SANE SOCIALISM
Adelaide may well be described as a staid city where the religious and
intellectual element is exceedingly prominent and there is a noticeable
absence of haste and bustle. There are, for the size of the city and
its environs, an enormous number of literary and musical societies
which keep the younger members of the community together by providing
them with centres of interest. I cannot honestly say that this tends to
narrowness of mind or outlook either, because so many of the members
of these societies, both male and female, have travelled, if not at
Home--as I gratefully note the Motherland is still called--to India,
to Japan, or throughout the Australasian States. In fact, extended
travel prevails here to an extent which is amazing compared with that
of people with the same incomes and of the same class at home. A very
large amount of the money which at home would be spent upon utterly
valueless society functions and entertaining people who go away and
make invidious comparisons, is here invested in travel; and so you
shall find the daughters of a man whose income is only just over four
figures telling you in the most casual way of their visits to the
Temple of Shion-in, of the marvels of the Inland Sea, of the Taj, of
Fiji, or of dear, wonderful, incomprehensible London.
And then so many of the young men were through the war in South Africa,
with its wonderful effect upon the enlargement of their minds. And here
comes a paradoxical state of affairs. Side by side with their utter
contempt for most of the British officers as leaders of men blazes up
their passionate love for the old land, and I have often wished that
Messrs. C. B. & Co., with their foul "methods of barbarism" slanders
and the like, could hear the opinion of alert young Australia upon them
and their methods. Especially now, when there looms awfully before us,
in the opinion of every one out here that I have had an opportunity of
conversing with, the near prospect of another terrible South African
war, directly due to the work of the present Government, aided by
Messrs. Stead, Aked & Co. I say nothing upon hearing all this, for I
feel ashamed that such men should be allowed to play ducks and drakes
with a great nation's interest. There is, however, another side to
this, to which I will allude later on.
For the present the main thought in my mind is that I am due to leave
Adelaide for Melbourne. I must return again on my way home and say
farewell to all these splendid folks, who have carried on the best
traditions of our true hospitality at home to me. But this morning I
have had a great treat. I met by invitation Mr. Watson, a great leader
of the Labour party, who has been Prime Minister, and will, if I am
any judge, soon be so again. He addressed a meeting last night in the
Exhibition Building, at which it is estimated that some four thousand
persons were present, for, as I have before said, in this land of adult
suffrage, both male and female, people take their politics seriously,
and the politician, professional though he be, must lead the strenuous
life. This gentleman, who calls himself a Socialist, presents a curious
contrast to the so-called Socialists at home of the Keir Hardie type.
He is sane and gentlemanly, and from his public utterances, as well
as his private conversation, I cannot imagine him lending himself to
the despicable spoliation of the lower middle class that is the direct
outcome of every Socialistic scheme of legislation at home. I find
that Socialism here is of a very different type indeed to the brand
that is presented to us in England. There are the usual cranks and
Anarchists, who, bat-like, think that the remedy for all social ills is
the disruption of society and the elevation of the noisy unfit to the
position of equals to or masters of the quiet fit. But they are very
small potatoes and few in the hill, and their meetings are farces which
have to be protected by the police against the attacks of larrikins who
regard them as fair game.
But then we have none of the conditions obtaining here which are
so luridly described in Upton Sinclair's book upon Chicago, "The
Jungle"--a book which should make the soul of every decent man
everywhere to take fire, a book that shows the American magnate in
his true colours, and in which the only gleam of hope is that he and
his horrible class may be swept from the earth which they defile
and destroy. I earnestly hope that this book may have an immense
circulation in England, so that our people may really understand
what is going on in the United States to-day. I have been accused
of saying hard things about the United States, and with reason, but
the worst I ever dreamed of after my personal acquaintance with the
people is eulogy compared with this frightful catalogue of horrors
of which every page contains a nightmare. It has made me look with a
most benevolent eye upon the legislation here in this country, which
is popularly supposed at home to be in the grip of the enemies of all
human progress, but which is at any rate entirely free from the truly
damnable methods of the Chicago plutocrat.
Once more, before I face the train journey, let me record the absolute
perfection of the weather ever since I have been here to a visitor
from home. The air has been so pure, so bracing, even keen at times,
yet with none of that congealing bite in it which is the terror of
weaklings both young and old at home. Of course the South Australian
calls it cold, and greets me always with the remark that it is very
cold to-day, with the result that I have no difficulty in finding a
fruitful topic of conversation, since to me it is as nearly perfect as
it can be. And with the spectacle daily before me of oranges, olives,
lemons, grapes, and figs flourishing luxuriantly in the open air, the
remark "very cold" seems sarcastic. But then there can be no question
of the great heat here in summer, although there is no need to believe
the careless dictum of men whom I occasionally meet, that 120° Fahr.
in the shade is a common summer temperature here. That only shows the
haziness of the average mind with regard to temperatures. With such
heat as they do have here in summer, however, there is little wonder
that the native-born or the acclimatised citizen does feel as very
cold weather that which to us fresh from Britain is delightful beyond
adjectives.
And now, at 4.30, I bid goodbye to beautiful Adelaide with its
hospitable, genial citizens, and in a cosy compartment of the train
watch the lovely landscape glide by as we ascend the hills on our way
to Melbourne.
It is delightful travelling, especially as at stated stations there are
refreshment-rooms where good and ample meals of well-cooked food are
ready, and ample time is allowed for eating them. All prices in these
restaurants are fixed by the Government, who own the railways and lease
the catering to speculators under most stringent rules as to quality
and prices. The result is the best railway meals that I have ever eaten
in the world, and also by far the cheapest, indeed the prices are
marvellous in their moderation as compared with Europe or America. The
rate of travelling is not so rapid, but as the journey is mainly at
night that matters little as long as the traveller reaches Melbourne
in time to begin business as early as possible in the morning. We
had, so I was informed, being personally entirely unconscious of it,
a breakdown during the night which delayed us an hour in arriving at
Ballarat, some three hours' journey from Melbourne. But we were there
at 7.30, and found a hot and copious breakfast awaiting us, of all
those things which are peculiarly associated with that meal; the charge
was one shilling, or the impecunious could have a huge cup of coffee
and a roll and butter for sixpence--a much dearer bite than the full
breakfast of sausages, or fish, or ham and eggs, or chops or steaks,
with potatoes and bread for double the money. But then it is a lavish
land in the matter of food. There are no niggling extras here.
We had only twenty minutes here, so that any extended observation
of the flourishing town of about forty thousand inhabitants which
stretched away on the level plain on either side of the railway line
was impossible, but I looked eagerly around on the well-built houses
and wide streets of the town which for its size has probably produced
more gold than any other spot in the world. I thought of the wild days
of the rush when Port Philip was congested with ships denuded of their
crews, when Melbourne was merely a place through which the panting,
fiercely eager crowds toiled on their way to the new Eldorado, or
returned flushed with success to waste in most hideous debauchery and
riot what had cost them such terrible toil to win. All that frenzied
fight for gold has gone now, except an occasional fit of madness on a
Stock Exchange on the report of one of the companies having "struck it
rich"--reports that I believe are sometimes engineered by interested
parties for the purpose of unloading worthless shares upon that vast
confiding amorphous body, the public.
No, the fat days of the individual gold miner have gone and the workers
are now paid and employed in much the same way as they would be if the
spoil they sought were coal or iron instead of gold. All the resources
of science must be called in to make the business pay at the high price
of labour, and the depths to which the burrowing men go in search
of the thin veins of payable material is measured now by thousands
of feet; and still they go deeper. But Ballarat and its sister
gold-producing town, Bendigo, have long ago sowed their wild oats and
are as quiet and church-going and generally respectable as any places
in the Australian States. They look it too, and I have only to mention
the fact that eleven o'clock is closing time for all public-houses
(hotels the wise them call out here), and that the Sunday Closing Act
is in full operation, to show that the purveyor of intoxicants has
many hindrances placed upon his liberty to do as he likes. Gambling
is rife, of course, but alas! where is it not in this country eating
the heart out of all classes, but especially, as at home, out of those
who are least able to afford it, the mechanics? However, as this is
the subject I must refer to continually because of its tremendous
prominence and effect upon the people, I will leave it now as we are
speeding along towards Melbourne through immense areas of level, rich
land studded with stumps and supporting flocks of scattered sheep.
The approach to Melbourne by rail is so level that almost before you
have realised that you are near the city the masts of the huge sailing
ships lying in the Yarra Docks are visible, to my utter confusion of
locality, because in my recollection the place where such ships lay was
Sandridge, Geelong, or Williamstown, the first-named and nearest being
about four miles from the city and situated, like the other two, on the
shores of Hobson's Bay. But as we draw nearer, and I see the towering
buildings apparently grouping themselves about the ships, it occurs to
me that I have heard of the deepening of Melbourne's little river until
ships of almost any tonnage can come right up into the city itself and
lie there as they do in London.
Even with the most cursory glance I can see how great have been the
changes that have taken place since I was here first, thirty-five
years ago, which is tremendously apparent as compared with that
observable in Adelaide. The train glides into the station, an
interviewer confronts me, and telling me that it is only a couple
of hundred yards to Menzies Hotel, and that my luggage needs no
supervision from me, escorts me up a gently inclined street, putting
one eager question after another, among which, however, I do _not_
hear, "How do you like Melbourne?" I have not time to notice more than
one palatial building--not of the sky-scraper order, but conforming
more to the quiet dignity of similar piles at home, the newly finished
offices of an Australasian insurance company--when I find myself in
the hotel, with my indefatigable reporter still plying me with eager
questions, for he represents the only evening newspaper in this city
of nearly half a million inhabitants, and wants a story for this
afternoon's issue. Fancy a monopoly like that! But I don't know why
he should make me say that I considered the _Herald_ to be the finest
evening paper I had ever read in the world, since I did not know of its
existence half an hour ago, and certainly have not yet read a line in
it! But _que voulez vous_ from a reporter?
VI
MIGHTY MELBOURNE