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VIII. THE UNION OF SOUTH AFRICA.

It was a striking contrast to pass, as I did one evening, straight from Spionkop and the flat top of Wagon Hill, where also the fighting had once been so fierce and bloody, to the hall where the Londoners of Ladysmith were assembled for their triennial dinner, and to hear speaker after speaker hold forth upon the theme of a great United South Africa. There had arisen during the past two years a general feeling that if the country was to prosper in the future, the four separate Colonies must sink their many differences and come together in some form of Union. The Union of South Africa was always the dream of the great South African, Cecil Rhodes. It was equally, in one form or another, the dream of the Dutch throughout the country. When the war of 1899 had brought it within the bounds of possibility, and had then proved once for all that it could only be effected under the British Crown, Rhodes's trusted lieutenant and successor, Jameson, came forward with the definite proposal. Lord Selborne, the representative of the Crown, never interfering unnecessarily but always ready to help South Africa by every means in his power, threw his whole weight into the scale, and expressed his belief that "South Africa can only be wisely and successfully governed by a South African Government, responsible to a South African Parliament, elected by the South African

people." His statesmanlike attitude produced a great effect, and eventually a Convention was assembled in Durban to work out a scheme for a National Constitution. When I visited Natal, at the invitation of its able and kindly Governor, Sir Matthew Nathan, the Convention was just breaking up after some discussion, to reassemble later in Cape Town. I had read in some English papers that there was no national spirit in South Africa, and that the delegates to the Convention would go to it with the object of doing their best for their respective Colonies. I knew also that Natal was of all the four Colonies the most exclusively British in blood and sentiment, and generally regarded as the one least likely to fall in with any proposals which would have the effect of merging her with the larger colonies where the Dutch element prevailed. I went to Natal therefore expecting to find the Colony opposed to Union.

One of the most surprising things to me in the land of surprises, was to see the extraordinarily rapid growth of national feeling throughout South Africa in the course of the next three months, and to find that from the first the seeds of the feeling were alive even in Natal. That there was some holding back in Natal is true, and natural. Some Natal men and women were intensely averse from any merger with the Dutch; and it was evident

that the immediate interests of some special communities would suffer by the loss of autonomy.

But unquestionably, as far as I could judge, even in Natal, the Africander feeling quickly overbore the fear of change; and the idea of a great United South Africa began to appeal to the pride and the hopes of the people.

As one Natal man put it to me, "The Dutch don't love us, and we shall have some unpleasant pills to swallow; but if we keep our tempers all will come right in the end. It is better for the country." That was what men were beginning to say everywhere, "It is better for the country." Among soldiers and civilians alike, between October and January, the feeling seemed to spread like a prairie fire. The men who had come out in their thousands nine years before to fight against the Boer invaders, now caught up the cry of Africa for the Africander; and merchant and lawyer and farmer seemed to join in with equal enthusiasın.

The Londoners of Ladysmith were beyond all question as loyal to the British Crown as the Londoners of the City; and there was not the slightest reason to suppose that they would ever be less so. They had lived, many of them, through the long siege of 1899, and had suffered greatly from it. They knew the Dutchman and his ways. And yet the whole burden of their speeches, while breathing a passionate devotion to "the greatest city in in the world," was for the union of the races in South Africa and

the ending of all the old bitterness. One could not but be struck and astonished by the unanimity of the feeling; by the fact that in this most intensely British of all South African communities the desire of a great future for South Africa should override race animosities, and lead men of British birth to support a movement which seemed likely not only to place a Dutch Government in power at first, but to make all South African Governments for the future largely representative of Dutch votes.

It seemed to me to speak much for the confidence of the British population in themselves that they should take this course. Their view seemed to be, "We are for a great South African nation under the British flag; and if the Dutch like to come in with us, let them come and welcome. Under that flag there is room for all. We bear them no ill-will, and we are not in the least afraid of them. We can hold our own. All we want is a fair field and no favour."

I am bound to say that this was not the universal view in another South African centre, the great mining community of Johannesburg. In that composite community, made up of men of all nations, but very much apart in spirit from the Dutch ideal, there was intense anti-Dutch feeling among certain classes. Johannesburg still remembered very vividly all the oppressions and humiliations of the Kruger régime, and found it very hard to trust any Dutchman. The frowning ramparts of Kruger's Fort over

their heads were an everpresent reminder of the old days. It is true that there was also much talk here of the way in which the British loyalists had been "betrayed" by Great Britain; and there was much resentment, natural resentment it seems to me, against "Downing Street," which is at times too ready to sacrifice its loyalists, and its servants, on the altar of conciliation; but even that resentment was not sufficient to overcome the old distrust of the Dutch.

At the same time, even in Johannesburg, even among the men who were for years treated as an inferior caste, even among those who had been imprisoned and threatened with a shameful death, some of the most prominent had buried the hatchet, and were working side by side with the leaders of the Transvaal Dutch for a South African Union.

"The grant of responsible government," one of them said to me, "was the biggest gamble of the century; but I believe it is going to turn up trumps, and anyway it is our business as good Englishmen and good Africans to do our best to make it succeed."

The fact was that the antiDutch section in Johannesburg represented the extreme right wing, so to speak; the "Back Veldt Boer," who clung to the views of Kruger, representing the extreme left; the centre being neither extreme British nor extreme Dutch, but Africander. This centre seemed to be the strongest part of the population, and to be

growing stronger. It consisted of "progressive Dutch," headed by General Botha, and of many English, among them some of Lord Milner's young men— "the Kindergarten," and some of the Colonial born. One of these, a prominent miner, surprised me by volunteering the information that he considered the existing Transvaal Government "the best possible. But then I am an Africander." His father had been an English immigrant, and he had some thought of going to England "some day" to look up his people, but his home was South Africa.

even

The Africander feeling was becoming predominant here, among the throbbing machinery and the great white heaps of wind-blown refuse which mark the gold mines of the Rand. Even among those who did not mean to make South Africa their home, many had gone over to the popular side.

Soon after the Convention broke up at Durban it reassembled at Cape Town, and we all know what followed.

Whatever may have been the case in September 1908, there was no doubt that by January 1909 a South African spirit had come into existence. By wise mutual concessions the delegates of the several Colonies arrived at an understanding. The Union was brought about, and was cordially welcomed by the British people; and another nation was added to the Empire.

The result of this great movement remains to be seen. Some, as I have said, believe that it will only be the first

step towards "cutting the that South Africa is not in painter." But the general tendency among British South Africans is to scoff at such a suggestion. The two races, they say, are now nearly equal in number, and even if the Dutch wished to separate from the Empire they would not have matters all their own way.

The only doubt I heard expressed by the bulk of the British community was to the effect that the great exponent of Union on the Dutch side, General Botha, whom they regarded as thoroughly loyal, was, after all, only one man, and that though he had a following among his countrymen he might not prove strong enough to carry the rest with him, while his death would ruin all hope of a thorough reconciliation. But General Botha, please God, has many long years of usefulness before him, and though he undoubtedly has difficulties to meet among the men of his race, he seems to have much support in his broad-minded views.

South Africa knows now that she cannot stand alone. She could be brought to her knees sooner or later by any enemy who could blockade her ports, for at present she cannot feed herself; and even the Boers who have been most hostile to us would not wish to see any other European nation in our place. The experience which some of them gained in German territory after the war had an excellent effect upon them from our point of view. And it must be remembered

the position of some other selfgoverning states. It is still a strategical point of the greatest importance to the Empire, and is likely to remain so. Great Britain has fought for it in the past, and would fight for it again if there were any chance of its being lost to her. She would not listen patiently to any talk of separation.

Personally I do not believe, though my opinion can have little value, that the thinking men among our old enemies look forward to separation. Not only do they now understand the power and determination of our people, but I think that they do to some extent appreciate the friendly treatment accorded to them after the war. One Boer leader whom I met said his countrymen were not very grateful for the terms of peace, or for the compensation granted on account of war losses, or even for the right of self-government, but that they were deeply impressed by their admission on equal terms as citizens of the Empire. I hope he represented the feeling of his people on the last point at least, and that some of them go much further.

However this may be, whatever the feelings and hopes of the Dutch, surely it was wiser, more in consonance with our traditions, to face the Union movement,

which was not purely a Dutch movement, with the confidence of Lord Selborne, than to fear it would prove too much for the courage and capacity of our race.

(To be continued.)

MY SUBLIMINAL SELF.

HAVING lived a lonely life for many years in out-stations on the frontier, I and my dreamself have been thrown much together; but I never took this half of me seriously until a traveller of a philosophic turn told me that it was probably the most important part. He said that I ought to call it "my subliminal self," and that it was in closer contact with the spiritual world than what he was pleased to call my "supraliminal consciousness." To this I demur, for if the bizarre and irresponsible being who takes over charge of my intelligence in sleep is associated with any spirit at all, it is of the tribe of Puck or the Lubbar Fiend. Nevertheless, I am in debt to him for sundry entertainment, and I introduce him here for what he is worth. It is quite possible that psychologists may find some system in his madness. If no new law can be deduced out of him, he may be docketed as an exception, or at least as a corroborative freak-a term vague enough for the ology of dreams.

I cannot "dream grand " like De Quincey, or "true" like

Peter Ibbetson and the Duchess of Towers, but I sometimes dream double. My card dreams, for instance, are generally figurative. Sometimes when I have played bridge late at night I play the same hands over and over again, and even wake up playing them in the morning. These dreams are especially

vivid between spells of malaria or after strong doses of quinine. Sometimes I am identified with a certain card or suit. I am not exactly the card itself, but next door to it, and there is generally one of a higher value of my own suit waiting for me in dummy on my left. When I have held good cards, or when they have fallen well for me, I do not as a rule dream much. But when I have held yarboroughs and been doubled and roughed all the evening, and foiled in every finesse, I live through new defeats in my sleep. And every turn of the game registers similarly graduated misfortune in some corresponding venture.

The symbolism of the dream varies a great deal. Either the cards are there and mean something else, or they are not there and I am thinking of people in the terms of cards, with the same values and precedence. I am generally engaged in the combat, or interested in it. Nine times out of ten it is No Trumps, but sometimes the class element creeps in. The Diamond is subordinate; the Spade a pariah almost. But it is misleading to talk of hands and suits. Everything is always very mixed up, and not at all like real cards. There is, of course, no logic or continued system in it. I may be only conscious of one meaning at a time. the dream passes quickly from one side of the simile to the

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