LORD HALIFAX

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 77, 28 September 1938, Page 4

LORD HALIFAX

A WRITER'S SKETCH

MAN WHO KNOWS BRITAIN

A PREGNANT SPEECH

"The little nations gather round the British Empire," said someone, and everybody laughed, including the man in the middle, Lord Halifax, writes L. Raskay in the "Adelaide Chronicle." Laughed? No, that is not the right word, for the British Foreign Secretary is not a man of loud, hearty laughter, but he has a smile, amused, human, sympathetic, with a gentle irony that has nothing bitter in it. On the contrary, this Halifax smile reflects the inner balance and moderate nature that this British statesman has found for himself. The comparison between the little nations and the greatness of the British Empire was remarkably apt. We were six or eight foreign journalists from various countries, gathered round Lord Halifax. Most of us were of average height, but Halifax rose a good head above us. Only in such a compact group does one realise just how tall this man is. He is 57; but he does not give the impression, in spite of the well-marked lines of his finely chiselled face, of an elderly man. This is' because his eyes have something childish about them, something youthfully naive in them. During the time that Anthony Eden was Foreign Secretary we got used to the idea that the British Foreign Secretary should be a man of fashion. Lord Halifax had, of course, left the most notable features of his dress, his old-fashioned overjcoat and small brimmed stiff hat. in the cloak room of the Savoy Hotel. This being so, we sought in vain something unusual in-the make-up of this now worldfamous man. The main characteristic of his clothing is the avoidance of anything unusual or striking. The only slight variation in the striped trouurs and block coat uniform of British public life was the tie, rather broader than usual, and tied in a larger knot round the narrow turn-down collar. GUEST OF JOURNALISTS. Lord Halifax on this occasion was guest of London's foreign journalists. Perhaps on other occasions he is stiffer and more formal, but with us he was charmingly personal and intimate. Before lunch we had quite a long talk with him, not about politics, for as he himself said,1 with a smile, "I think too much is said about politics anyhow. In the last few days all that there is to say has been said." An interesting little episode interrupted. A hotel servant brought Lord Halifax a telegram on a silver platter. Almost bored, as if he knew what was in it, he opened it, then rolled it up into a ball and threw it into a corner. All this with one hand, for the other has been lame for many years. But with discipline and training he has made it almost unnecessary to use it, and the incapacity is almost unnoticed. Before he threw the telegram away he showed it to us. It consisted of two words, "Greetings," and a woman's name. "A curious business," said Lord Halifax. "Whenever I have to appear in public, and it is announced beforehand, I have received such a telegram for years now. It happens six times or so every year. From someone I don't even know. Yes, it's*a woman, but you need not be alarmed. -Not only I, but also my wife receives these i strange messages. I suppose it amuses someone." I am afraid Lord Halifax would never make a film star. He doesn't appreciate such expression of devotion. . NOT A TRAVELLED MAN. We asked him about his travels. "I am afraid I haven't travelled very much," he replied. "I have never bam further east than Germany." We reminded him that this was not so. He had been to India. "That is so," he said, *"but I was speaking of foreign countries." This little episode is typical of the mental make-up of the British Foreign Secretary. India, a thousand miles from London, where he was for four years a successful Viceroy, is for him, because it is British territory, nearer "home" than countries, only a few hundred miles away, in Europe, which do not belong to the Empire. He went on to explain, "You know, when one enters public life so early, when one is in Government service from one's youth on, one cannot do all that one would wish. One is too tied down." This is not just an excuse, it is sincerely meant. It is known that Lord Halifax, .of immense and varied cultural interests, devoted himself to politics out of a feeling of duty and respect for tradition rather than of ambition or enthusiasm. He is one of those statesmen who have a very good opinion of the Press. He told us that in the most difficult situations he has always been able to 'rely on the tact and discretion of journalists. Only once, long ago, a journalist published—he was an English journalist, he told us with some bitterness—-something that he, „ Lord Halifax, had told him in complete confidence. A person as correct as Lord Halifax can neither understand nor forgive such a breach of faith and trust. BACKGROUND TO POLITICS. We had to wait for our lunch. Excuses were made. It was explained that the French and Italian Ambassadors were still at a meeting of the Non-intervention Committee. "That can last till evening," said Lord Halifax, but was assured that they were on their way. A few minutes later we were at lunch. Soon came the time for the longawaited speech of the Foreign Secretary. It was a pregnant and absorbing study of the psychological background of British foreign policy, from a man, free from all prejudice, knowing the strength and weakness of his people, and regarding politics, not as a dry, abstract art, but as the essence and incarnation of the will of the nation. In spite of the fact that he I does not care for oratory, he is a most effective speaker, for his words are the natural expression of a thought. Thus his sentences, even when speaking of the most complicated subjects, are of spartan simplicity. He has a natural dislike of rhetoric and |>on> pousness. He tries to .temper the force of his words with gentle irony, usually I against himself, such as, for example: "Something amusing which happened 1 to me—you know, not much that is amusing has happened to me—was the following experience." And there followed a delightful anecdote from the, war years.

Considerable public interest was aroused in Wellington last night at the sound of an aeroplane overhead. The machine, a De Havilland Moth Major, was being flown in turn from Rongotai Airport by Messrs. J. Kirkcaldie and R. Morphy, two members of the Wellington Aero Club, who were being examined for their B licence by FlightTJeutenant H. B. Burrell.