The Old Country Re-Visited

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen,--I must plead guilty to being not an Irishman but a Scotchman. (Laughter) I

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Professor John MacNaughton, M.A., LL.D., was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, and took his Arts Course in Aberdeen and Cambridge Universities and his Theological Course in Edinburgh, with further study at Heidelberg and Berlin. He held the Chairs of Greek and Church History at Queen's University and later was professor of Classics at McGill University. He is now professor of Latin in the University of Toronto.

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dare say it is quite unnecessary for me to give you that bit of information. But I belong to that tribe of the Scots that really are practically Irish-the Highlanders. You know the Irish started to speak Gaelic lately, after they had given it up for many centuries, but in my part of Scotland we kept it up all the time, and never said anything particular about it, either. (Laughter) So that it is not so inappropriate as it might appear at first sight that I should speak of Scotland today, and during the summer one of the most interesting parts of my visit was in a part of Scotland that made one think very much of Ireland. I was right in the Highlands of Scotland, close to a place where Prince Charlie landed in 1745, near Moidart. That was the last rebellion worth speaking of that took place on British soil, and it was my countrymen, the Highlanders, who took part in it, and they made a good job of it (laughter) and I think it is a good omen for Ireland that, though in those days the Highlanders hated the English worse than any people in the world, I suppose, and though no English prince ever was so hated by any considerable fraction of British subjects as was the butcher of Culloden, as they called the Duke of Cumberland, instead of those bitter feelings of that time there is now no section of the British people that shows a more enthusiastic loyalty to the Empire or who took a more distinguished part in the war than those very Highlanders. (Applause) It took them a good while, but they did at last succeed in doing what I hope our Irish brothers will do-in recognizing that under the peculiar exterior of our friend John Bull, which is not always very attractive at first sight, there lies a greaf heart and a sweet blood, and that in the English people there is a real sense of justice and love of liberty not only for themselves but for all other peoples in the world. (Applause)

I had not been to the Old Country since 1912, and in a way I felt just like Robert Louis Stevenson's Scotchman, who was celebrated in his poem, "The Scotchman's Return from Abroad", which emphasizes two thingsthat his absence from home brought him in contact with things he did not at all approve of, and there were two things that he could never get to suit his taste when away from homer-whiskey and religion (laughter); neither of them was nearly strong enough for him (laughter) and his great delight in getting home was to renew his acquaintance with those two palladia of his dear native country. But I think even Stevenson's Scotchman would have been struck by some other different things, different aspects of things, if he had left with me last May in the good ship Melita from the port of Montreal, bound for Liverpool. I think even he, though a very uncompromising Scotchman, and little inclined to recognize that any other people amounted to a great deal would have recognized on board that ship that after all, there was something in the English people. For one thing, in the development of our Empire they have a particular specialty, and that is for the sea, and no doubt the Scotchman would have to admit at least that they had taken chief part in that, although of course he would have made out that they had been helped very vigorously, as was the fact, by Scotchmen.

But on that ship one could not help thinking that, after all, here was a great part of the secret of our victory. These people-these stewards, these officers, that captain, men like these, women like those women stewardsthey were a great part of the explanation of our recent victory. (Applause) One of them in particular, with whom I came into pretty close and intimate relations, was an extremely imposing gentleman who waited upon our table, and he looked as if he might have been a bishop (laughter); I could scarcely bring myself to accept his services owing to the depths of my reverence for him. (Laughter) To my mind he stood, as it were, as the visible type of those people who during all the years of war, in spite of submarines and deadly and treacherous and absolutely illegal menaces, never refused to sign on, but went to sea without giving the Germans the pleasure of supposing that they were in the very least degree terrified by them, went about their business exactly as if there were no submarines in the world. (Applause) A great deal of the triumphant result of the war was due to the way those men kept the sea open for us; and of course it is due to the British fleet behind them to say that they were their necessary support. One felt, from the moment of boarding that ship, that he was coming in contact with the old country and especially with England, at a very vital spot. That impression was still more confirmed when the ship reached Liverpool and the Mersey. The sea was the secret of our success. We could say, as Miriam did in her song:

I will sing unto the Lord for he hath triumphed gloriously; The horse and his rider bath he cast into the sea.

They sank like lead in the mighty waters.

That was what happened to our enemy, and the enemy of civilization

They sank like lead in the mighty waters.

I think the historians will say that that was the vital point; it was surely the sea-power of the British army that was the real and profoundest and most important cause of our victory in the war. Just think of this. It was the fact that we had the sea open that made it possible for us Canadians to take the part we did; that enabled our good friends the Americans to take the part they did; that is as true of them as it was true of us. This continent, which we particularly associate with Liberty, which has always boasted that it is the Land of Liberty, could not, but for that fact, have taken any part whatsoever in the greatest fight for human liberty that was ever fought in this world.

Just as we sailed up the Mersey we came across the most speaking proof of what I am saying-the embodiment of that sea-power that had saved the world; that was the rather remarkable little craft that stood before you as the speaking and living emblem of the mighty power of England-the little passenger boat called the Daffodil one of the two little Liverpool passenger boats that take you for a sail around the harbour for sixpence any day you like. That little boat was one of the two that took part in one of the most remarkable instances of the war, one of the greatest achievements of all naval history, namely, Zeebrugge. (Hear, hear, and applause) Some people have almost forgotten that event; indeed, I met two American gentlemen who were our good friends all through the war, who had never heard of Zeebrugge. It is worth while for people to hear about it, and I hope we will never forget it. (Applause) I don't think that any other people who ever lived in this world would have attempted that task, and certainly I don't think any other people would have been able to pull it off. What did it consist of? The point was to block the passage at Zeebrugge--a long tortuous channel silted up with sand, through which it was almost impossible to find your way in. The first thing to be done was to sink a ship or several ships loaded with cement and block that passage and stop the rats' hole; but in order to do that, two other things had to be done. First, that long sea mole that guarded this channel made it impossible for any ship to pass, for it bristled with cannon, was brilliantly lighted electrically, and communicated with the main-land, and there was a great hotel there from which it could get reinforcements at any moment. Secondly, they had to clear the mole of its cannon. Thirdly they had to cut off its communications with the shore. Thus there were three distinct and separate impossibilities. Anybody would have said they were wild to attempt any of them. There were three distinct and separate impossibilities, each of which had to be carried out, had to be carried out together, had to be integrated-the integration of three impossibilities was the task. But they did it. They sent the ship down there and sank it right in a fair way. They sank two, as a matter of fact; they landed the "Vindictive" by the seamole and cleared it completely of Germans, and that ship sailed home under its own steam. (Applause) Furthermore, they did what was perhaps just as remarkable as any of the other achievements-they cut of the viaduct which connected with the mainland, and made it impossible for reinforcements to stream in, as they otherwise would have done. They pulled off all those impossibilities, and they pulled them off together, by the combination of precision in execution with absolutely unlimited daring in conception, absolute dare-devil courage to begin with, to face anything, even impossibilities, and precise timing-a combination which, I make bold to say, is not to be found quite so prominently anywhere in the world as in the British Navy. (Loud applause)

We should not forget these things. We should not forget our tremendous debt to the British Navy. I do not think that we in Canada are likely to forget it, and our cousins on the other side ought to be more aware of these facts than they are at present; it would considerably increase their respect for us, I think. Gentlemen, omit no opportunity of letting them know about it. I never do. (Laughter and applause)

When we landed in Liverpool, if there had been any green grass around, or anything attractive, I think one would have been tempted to fall down and kiss that sacred soil, that inviolate soil on which no foreigner has ever set his foot since the other William-William the Norman, the Conqueror-landed there in Thetford Park in 1066; inviolate through all these centuries, and holding so much of the destiny of all mankind. Yes, one would have been inclined to kneel down and kiss that soil.

Then I went to London, but did not stay there long, for my real object in going over was to visit France, where I had to look out two graves, and I had to go to a part which was well known to our Canadians; we heard a great deal about that ploughed salient of Ypres, with Bercouse within a mile of it; and then one was reminded of the other great contribution it was given to our people to make not only by sea but by land. You know what was said of that by Foch; he said the annals of history have no more glorious records than that of the 110 days of continuous offensive fighting which was done by the British army, and which brought the war to a close. (Applause) That is what Foch was reported to have said, and whether or not he said it, it is truesmashing the Hindenburg line with the spear-head of the British army-the Canadian corps.

There one saw graves, graves in dreadful desolation. There one saw the desolation of all the buildings; scarcely one stone left standing on another. There is no more depressing kind of ruin in the world than the ruin of brick buildings; I think there is something peculiarly depressing about them. And yet, where else in the world could one choose to be buried? What more glorious place of burial is there on all the face of the earth than where thousands of our boys lie? I know of no place where I should be so proud to be buried as in that desolate and dreary spot surrounded by all those others. I am glad to say that those graves are being gradually brought to order now. In France I saw one of the completed cemeteries, and really it was very beautifully done. You know the general plan of them; they are scattered all over that part of France, and hundreds and thousands of our boys lie buried there. Every single soldier, whether officer or private, has a stone exactly the same, with the arms of his regiment and a few words on it; then there is one great altar stone with the inscription, "Their names shall be held in everlasting remembrance." Opposite that there is a cross with a sword entering into it, and never in all history did the cross and the sword go so well together as it did over there and never was the right of the sword to be consecrated on the cross so well justified as in this war.

Then, of course, one had many reflections there. Around Ypres, was the peculiarly deadly part for our Canadians, and one felt: What a loss we have had in those boys, our very best! What a loss Canada has had. Yes, indeed, a great loss, a loss to which there is no way of doing adequate justice. But a great gain, too; a great gain! After all, those young men could certainly in no way have laid out their lives, if they lived one hundred years, each one of them, to more advantage for Canada and for the world than they did there. It is difficult to count up these things and strike a balance, but one thing must always be remembered-to hold on to that faith that the gains from such self-sacrifice and self-devotion are unqualified; that the gains of the cross are absolutely endless.

Then, when one returned to London, there were many things to be thankful for. There are all the old tokens of that great old civilization. Even the journey between Dover and London brought that fairly before one's mind. There is no more delightful country in the world, none laid out with such an eye to simple beauty. In France the country seemed dominated by a very severe utilitarianism; every spot of ground was utilized, and that was one thing that struck us very strongly in France, the extraordinary careful farming of those people. One felt the force of the saying that was going around at that time, "Farming is going to save France," and that is true. However early in the morning you went out, you saw those people working on the land and by the last rays of sunlight the people were still working like ants. That dreadful region around Ypres and Albert we saw in undistinguishable ruins except for an occasional estaminet, or "pub", which seems to be the first thing to strike the green land that shows itself over the ruins. But in the country round you could not have told that there had been a war at all except that, here and there, on the side of the road you would see a heap of barbed wire. Those people do not go in for six or eight hours a day; they are at it from morning till night, and already they have resuscitated their country to such an extent that you can scarcely tell from the fields that there has been any war at all.

When travelling in the comfortable train from Dover to London one felt, "This is really a civilized country, old and civilized, with a matured and sweet civilization which can only be produced by thousands of years." I remember the story of an American who saw some of their beautiful lawns in Oxford, and wishing to reproduce them at home, he said to a gardener, "How do you do this?" and the gardener answered, "You roll it and cut it very closely and water it very carefully for five hundred years." (Laughter) That was just the impression one got of London; there you were in the midst of civilization that belongs to us as much as to anybody for we paid very dearly for our share of it. Here you were in a civilization that was mellowed and grown old, and that stretches away back to Moses and to Homer; and one could not help feeling that it was a great heritage indeed, and worthy of some sacrifice.

Then in London one saw Westminster Abbey and the great treasures of our English-speaking race wherever they are, the records of our nations' really glorious past, and the lines of Wordsworth came irresistibly into one's mind:

It is not to be thought of that the flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
Hath flow'd, "with pomp of waters, unwithstood,--
"Roused though it be full often to a mood
Which spurns the check of salutary hands,
That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands
Should perish; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung
Armoury of the invincible Knights of old:
We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold
Which Milton held.-In everything we are sprung
Of earth's first blood, have titles manifold.

That was what one felt there-that there was, as it were, the central throne of the great traditions of this race-this race that has sent out its sons by all waters, spread them all over the world, and wherever they are, there is freedom and justice and decency. (Applause) One felt that in Westminster. Of course our enemy tried to get at Westminster and St. Paul's. They did manage the Post-Office which was quite near, but they never touched either Westminster or St. Paul's; those priceless heirlooms from the great past were absolutely intact.

Another thing I saw which seemed to me to be very characteristic of our victory, which gave one a blessed assurance that we had been victorious after all, that this terrible nightmare had passed away and left us comparatively whole and intact, and that was the greatest cricket field in all the world. Cricket, above all, is a characteristic English game, and I had the pleasure of witnessing a first-class cricket match at Lord's. Then I felt the country was safe. (Applause and laughter) It was strange that one of the men who was playing, and playing very well, was a grandson of Alfred Tennyson, our Poet Laureate-playing in a way that was worthy the verse of his grandfather. Now, supposing those gentlemen who thought they could manage things so much better than we can had come out on top, this would -not have been going on; all of those young fellows would have been going the goose-step, every man jack of them. (Great laughter) That was one little incident which strongly impressed the reality that after all, in spite of danger, we had really breasted the storm.

A good part of my time was spent in Scotland, in the country where Prince Charlie landed, at Moidart, one of the most beautiful countries in the world. There is something about the Highlands of Scotland that I think is not to be repeated. There is a peculiar quality of beauty there that is not found anywhere else. No doubt it is largely due to the extreme humidity of the climate, which, though disagreeable in some ways, has that effect of producing a certain atmospheric condition of softness of sky and a certain lustre. Things there seemed to me to look like pebbles under water, so to speak. They have a gloss and a lustre such as is not found anywhere else. There, again, I was reminded in a very remarkable way of what we had been through. Most of the people at the hotel where we stayed were engaged in fishing-not that they caught very much. I didn't trouble fishing. I simply climbed the hills, and as the Scotch say, glowered frae me-stared just in front of me, and that was occupation enough, for the scenery was not the same for five minutes at a time. There was mist on the haystacks now, and then sunshine, and a change every moment. We were remarkably lucky in having weather that gave us the full beauty of the place, and I found quite sufficient occupation in climbing the hills. One of the young men who was staying at the hotel was a certain Captain Scott, and in talking one night about the various regiments and countries, and how they had done in the war, this very modest, quiet fellow did not say anything, but at last he piped up, "Well, now, I think that the lot I was with myself did about as well as anybody." "Well, who were you with?" -he had never told us before-and he replied, "The 52nd Highland Division. (Applause) I should think they have done about as well as anybody". He told us that a great many of them came from just that part of the country there-Camerons and McDonalds. He said they were very quiet fellows, you would not think they would have "scrap" in them; they read their bibles and that sort of thing, a lot of them, very quiet men indeed, but, he said, "Put them against Germans and they were regular devils." (Laughter) I was proud of my native country, proud of the part Scotland had taken. I had always been proud of it, but never so proud as then.

One of the main thoughts suggested by that visit to the old land was that that old country is the heart and centre of the Empire, a country that has done so much in the world, and done so much for the world; that country that has broken the back of every tyranny that menaced Europe, from the time of Philip of Spain, in Queen Elizabeth's day, down to William the Second of Germany. In that country we have a great inheritance--that country with its traditions, its beauty, its old culture which it maintains so freshly with such vigour without losing any of its ancient manhood or force, which has been so abundantly shown. We may well be proud of that great inheritance which belongs to us just as much as Vancouver or British Columbia does. (Applause) It is ours by the double right-by blood, for thank God we have never cast off our allegiance. (Applause) It still lives in us as freshly as it did the day our ancestors left those old shores. And what beneficent results have come from that allegiance--this great result among others, that Canada was enabled to take the glorious part she did in the most critical issue of all human history. Through that connection it was natural for Canada to take her part, and she did not hesitate a moment to do it. Thanks to that connection, to the living force of it, which was more alive than any of us knew until it was tested-thanks to the living connection of that vital bond, Canada was enabled to take her glorious part in that greatest event in all history, and I have no doubt that the beneficent results of that co-operation will be increasingly manifest, even from the material point of view. We have not only the right of blood, that is, the right of natural inheritance to that old land, but we have the right which is greater, the right of the blood that our sons have shed for it. It is a great thing that we should belong to that ripe and mellow and ancient civilization and be heirs to those great traditions and noble ideals that are still so vigorously maintained by the old country.

Another reflection I am sure has occurred to many people as well as to myself, and that is, that we have a very respectable approximation, just as things stand, to a League of Nations. That British Empire, to maintain which is the object of this Club, and from which the Club derives its name, that British Empire is badly named, for really it is not an Empire in the sense which those words are apt to call up; it is not like any Empire that has ever been in the world before. In reality it is a league of free partners. It is of very remarkable construction. It has grown up in the course of centuries, and is there as a fact in the world today, and it was a very remarkable system, and structure, which really corresponds with the realities of the world as we have it. It is composed of peoples who have perfect freedom, perfect independence, some of its members are absolutely free to manage their affairs exactly in their own way, like ourselves in Canada, like South Africa and Australia, absolutely free to go our own way--to go to the devil as we like--which is a great privilege for Irishmen (laughter) we are free to do exactly as we like, as free as any in England or Scotland or America-a great deal more free possibly; an individual has a great deal more freedom here than he has in the States. That is one of the great things about that system-it represents individual liberty. That is one of the great things worth conserving, too-that respect for individual liberty, that love for individuality that is sometimes even a love of eccentricity. That is one thing that struck me tremendously.

I used to go around Hyde Park and hear those soapbox orators and tub-orators talking all kinds of treason, and nobody said any word to them; the policemen paid no attention to them, but just allowed them to work off their steam. There is no country in the world where a man can say the thing he will as freely as in England, no country where the respect for the individual is so deeply ingrained in the very structure of the people, in their minds and almost in their bodily frames. That is one thing that our neighbours have not, however excellently they have, in other ways, kept up the old ideas; that is one thing in which they have not yet attained to the same pitch that England has, namely, the freedom with which a man can say what he likes, freedom from the popular stampede.

I say, then, that we have a League of Nations which really corresponds to the actual facts of the world. Some members of it are already capable of managing their own affairs without any interference whatsover, and have absolutely full liberty to do it, as we have. Others there are not quite capable yet, and to whom it would be no kindness to give absolute power to manage their own affairs. There are people like the Egyptians and the Hindoos that are, as it were, in the position of wards and the Empire has its place for them and does look after them, to their obvious and enormous advantage, so far as material things are concerned. How much more prosperous and well-to-do the Egyptian people are on account of the great work that has been done there on the material side than they would have been under any other conceivable reign! Furthermore, while holding those people in their present state of tutelage, the Empire keeps open for them the ideal of self-govrnment and extends it to them just as they become ripe for it. That is the character of this great system to which we belong, and which has done such great things for the world.

Gentlemen, I think it will be the verdict of history that in the great crisis through which we have recently passed our Empire saved the world. That was the rock on which above all others the power of Germany split. One might have supposed that all that was needed was simply to extend it to a certain amount. The French had practically joined it, to all intents and purposes, Italy had, even the Russians had come in. They had all practically come into this great association of Nations. Even America came in for a while. President Wilson thought that he had a better League of Nations in his head. It is said that Clemenceau said, more or less by way of a joke, that Wilson imagined himself to be a kind of Messiah. Now, I don't think there was any harm in him or in any of us trying to be just as much of a Messiah as possible, every man of us; I think that is what it is our business to be. The trouble about President Wilson's Messiahship was that he wished to be the sort of Messiah who dispensed as much as possible with the Cross, and wanted to do with very little except the Crown. Poor fellow, he has had his share of the Cross lately. But at any rate, Gentlemen, he tried to bring in this ideal organization of all the peoples in the world that was going to bring about the good times, the happy days, for the world, and restore the age of gold. This has very largely failed to come off; but the old League of Nations, our League of Nations, the League of Nations of which Canada is a part, is still there, thank God. (Applause) It is now engaged in paying for the war in which it fought, and it can do it. It surely could do the fighting, and it can do the paying, too, if we all work together, if we all energetically co-operate, if we keep together this great system, to the utmost of our individual power, and work for it to the best of our ability. If every man of us does that, and if the greatness and power and promise of it is realized everywhere by people like ourselves, then I do believe that the great task that has been laid upon it, and that still almost crushingly bears upon its shoulders, is not too great for its ability to bear. (Loud applause)

MR. KENNETH J. DUNSTAN expressed the hearty thanks of the Club to Professor MacNaughton for his interesting address.