Political and Literary essays, 1908-1913 | Page 4

Zulu
interests. We need not always inquire too closely what these people,
who are all, nationally speaking, more or less in statu pupillari,
themselves think is best in their own interests, although this is a point
which deserves serious consideration. But it is essential that each
special issue should be decided mainly with reference to what, by the
light of Western knowledge and experience tempered by local
considerations, we conscientiously think is best for the subject race,
without reference to any real or supposed advantage which may accrue
to England as a nation, or--as is more frequently the case--to the special
interests represented by some one or more influential classes of
Englishmen. If the British nation as a whole persistently bears this
principle in mind, and insists sternly on its application, though we can
never create a patriotism akin to that based on affinity of race or

community of language, we may perhaps foster some sort of
cosmopolitan allegiance grounded on the respect always accorded to
superior talents and unselfish conduct, and on the gratitude derived
both from favours conferred and from those to come.[8] There may
then at all events be some hope that the Egyptian will hesitate before he
throws in his lot with any future Arabi The Berberine dweller on the
banks of the Nile may, perhaps, cast no wistful glances back to the time
when, albeit he or his progenitors were oppressed, the oppression came
from the hand of a co-religionist. Even the Central African savage may
eventually learn to chant a hymn in honour of Astraea Redux, as
represented by the British official who denies him gin but gives him
justice. More than this, commerce will gain. It must necessarily follow
in the train of civilisation, and, whilst it will speedily droop if that
civilisation is spurious, it will, on the other hand, increase in volume in
direct proportion to the extent to which the true principles of Western
progress are assimilated by the subjects of the British king and the
customers of the British trader. This latter must be taught patience at
the hands, of the statesman and the moralist. It is a somewhat difficult
lesson to learn. The trader not only wishes to acquire wealth; he not
infrequently wishes that its acquisition should be rapid, even at the
expense of morality and of the permanent interests of his country.
Nam dives qui fieri vult, Et cito vult fieri. Sed quae reverentia legum,
Quis metus aut pudor est unquam properantis avari?[9]
This question demands consideration from another point of view. A
clever Frenchman, keenly alive to what he thought was the decadence
of his own nation, published a remarkable book in 1897. He practically
admitted that the Anglophobia so common on the continent of Europe
is the outcome of jealousy.[10] He acknowledged the proved
superiority of the Anglo-Saxon over the Latin races, and he set himself
to examine the causes of that superiority. The general conclusion at
which he arrived was that the strength of the Anglo-Saxon race lay in
the fact that its society, its government, and its habits of thought were
eminently "particularist," as opposed to the "communitarian" principles
prevalent on the continent of Europe. He was probably quite right. It
has, indeed, become a commonplace of English political thought that

for centuries past, from the days of Raleigh to those of Rhodes, the
position of England in the world has been due more to the exertions, to
the resources, and occasionally, perhaps, to the absence of scruple
found in the individual Anglo-Saxon, than to any encouragement or
help derived from British Governments, whether of the Elizabethan,
Georgian, or Victorian type. The principle of relying largely on
individual effort has, in truth, produced marvellous results. It is
singularly suited to develop some of the best qualities of the vigorous,
self-assertive Anglo-Saxon race. It is to be hoped that self-help may
long continue to be our national watchword.
It is now somewhat the fashion to regard as benighted the school of
thought which was founded two hundred years ago by Du Quesnay and
the French Physiocrates, which reached its zenith in the person of
Adam Smith, and whose influence rapidly declined in England after the
great battle of Free Trade had been fought and won. But whatever may
have been the faults of that school, and however little its philosophy is
capable of affording an answer to many of the complex questions
which modern government and society present, it laid fast hold of one
unquestionably sound principle. It entertained a deep mistrust of
Government interference in the social and economic relations of life.
Moreover, it saw, long before the fact became apparent to the rest of
the world, that, in spite not only of some outward dissimilarities of
methods but even of an instinctive mutual