The Dominion. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1907 A SHATTERED ILLUSION.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 69, 14 December 1907, Page 4

The Dominion. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1907 A SHATTERED ILLUSION.

Ax article which we printed last Wednesday, under the heading "Glad to Get Back," dealt with a little-re-garded and' generally-suppressed aspect of'the, increasing frequency with which New Zealanders pay holiday visits to Great Britain. Usually the New Zealander, on being interviewed regarding the impressions which he has formed during his travels, sketches rapidly the majesty of the world outside our coasts, 'and conchides with a determined 'declaration that New Zealand is the finest country in the world. In the article in question, we printed Some unpalatable confessions by returned New Zealanders, of a kind that we rarely hear. The burden of their report was disenchantment and dis-' illusion. As one of them put it very caustically: ' / ■ "We aro a fow, a very fow, people, doing vory well on one of earth's nicest littlo paddocks, far from tho madding crowd, but wo havo unwittingly been taught to regard ourselves as the salt of tho oarth, and that tho whole Universe is impatiently waiting to sec what Now Zealand's noxt lead—social or political—will bo. Tho best thing the Government could proposo would be to vote supplies to take all tho young men between the ages of 20 and 30 years a trip to Lon'don —to take tho conceit' out of them. If they were planked -down in ono spot in the Strand the entire Dominion would be waiting for the cable announcing tho sensation tho contingent created, but the Strand would bo entirely unconscious. I felt like an ant in a big settlement must feel; and 1 go slow for the future when New Zealand's position in the international scale is the subject." From others it was gathered that " the average person in London outside the Agent-General's office knew nothing about New Zealand, and cared less." Pointing, to some extent, to tho want of adequate advertisement of the Dominion and its resources, and loaded, therefore, with a lesson for the Government, these disturbing facts— for it need not be questioned that they are facts—will bear a little study from quite another standpoint. Exactly when we in this country began to believe that an astonished and admiring world was largely occupied with the pleasant and profitable task of studying our progress is not easy tc determine. Probably the late Mr. Seddon set the fashion. The wandering American journalist helped on the illusion with the vociferous superlatives of his eulogies in magazine articles. We all began to feel that tho prophecy in Daniel was being fulfilled: "Many shall run to and fro; and knowledge shall be increased." The country became, and remains, a huge mutual admiration society. There is almost boundless i room _ for discussion of the effect which this macrocephalous nationalism has exercised upon the country. Have we forgotten, in our belief that we ara a pattern nation, the old useful humility, the readiness to follow the example of older and deeper-set polities than our own? Eoviowing the past ten years'

ing that we have forgotten. Upon so fundamental a question as the constitution of society—which Kipling would say was safe from the mischievous fingers of the Bandar-log—we find our leading public men openly embracing principles from which intellectual statesmanship, in England, recoils. While admitting the merit of sonic of our advanced legislation, is it not pbssible that much of it has been in part the product of a desire to " play to the gallery"? Let it be granted that the Government could not be so absurd as to pass its "advanced" legislation solely for display; yet it is certain that the Ministry, infected with the universal spirit of pleased self-con-sciousness, has been influenced by '' the gallery " into pressing on a little further always than its political shrewdness quite approved. The irony of it all is that there has been no " gallery." We might have known that English people have as little time to spare for New Zealand as for, let us say, the Patagoniaus. Our audience consists almost entirely of wool-bro-kers, financiers, and obscure students of sociology. And they will remain our principal audience even when the " All Red lloute " brings us closer to the world. For the improvement of our trade, advertisement is necessary. Money can hardly be better spent than in wise advertisement. But for our national health's sake, for the sake of progress based upon sound example, for the sake of social sanity, it is no less important that we should cease regarding ourselves as the performer on the stage, and realise that it is wiser to admit quite frankly that we are one of the spectators.