On January 21, 1896, at a banquet given in London to Lord Lamington on the eve of his departure for Queensland as Governor of the Colony, Mr. Chamberlain presided. It will be remembered that no less than three events had recently occurred to shock the dreams of the amiable sentimentalists who had decided to abolish war forever between the nations. It was the period of President Cleveland’s Venezuelan Message, of Dr. Jameson’s raid into the Transvaal, and of the German Emperor’s telegram of sympathy to President KrÜger. For the moment England realized keenly that she stood alone: the Anglo-Saxon world it seemed was split in twain—not only German but American arrayed against the Englishman. Then came the outburst of loyalty from the colonies, the marvellously swift equipment of a “Flying Squadron”—and lo! after all, “Splendid Isolation” was felt to be a fine thing. The thrill of mutual interests, of Imperial solidarity, finds emphatic expression in this speech of the Secretary for the Colonies. With one exception, the marks of applause, though frequent in the report of the speeches, have been omitted.

I think that I see before me a representative gathering of British subjects, whose principal interests lie in that great group of Australian colonies, whose present greatness and importance give us but a faint indication of the splendid future which awaits them. For of one thing I am certain, whatever may be the fate of the old country—and even as to that I have sufficient confidence—no man can doubt that our vigorous offspring in the Southern Seas are bound at no distant time to rival the older civilization of the Continent of Europe in wealth, in population, and in all the attributes of a great nation. But, although, as I have said, your interests lie in this direction, I have an instinctive feeling that to-night you are thinking not so much of Australian politics and of Australian progress as you are of events that have recently occurred in another quarter of the globe and of their connection with Imperial interests. If that be so, I hail the fact as another proof of the solidarity of Imperial sentiment in making it impossible that a blow can be struck, or a chord sounded, in even the most distant portion of the Queen’s dominions, without an echo coming back from every other part of the British Empire.

It would be inopportune in me, it would be improper, if I were to dwell on the incidents which have diverted attention to South Africa. Those incidents will be the subject of judicial inquiry in this country and in Africa, and I assume that, with the fair-mindedness which distinguishes them, my countrymen will wait to hear both the indictment and the defence before they pronounce a judgment. But, in the meantime, I will venture to say that I think there is a tendency to attach too much importance to sensational occurrences which pass away and leave no trace behind, and not enough to the general course of British policy and the general current of colonial progress. I have heard it said that we never have had a colonial policy, that we have simply blundered into all the best places in the earth. I admit that we have made mistakes. I have no doubt that we are answerable for sins of commission as well as for sins of omission; but, after all is said, this remains—that we alone among the nations of the earth have been able to establish and to maintain colonies under different conditions in all parts of the world, that we have maintained them to their own advantage and to ours, and that we have secured not only the loyal attachment of all British subjects, but the general good will of the races, whether they be native or whether they be European, that have thus come under the British flag. This may be a comforting assurance when we think of occasional mistakes, and when we are rebuked even for our misfortunes we may find some consolation in our success.

There is, gentlemen, another consideration which I think is not inappropriate to such a gathering as this. A few weeks ago England appeared to stand alone in the world, surrounded by jealous competitors and by altogether unexpected hostility. Differences between ourselves and other nations which were of long standing appeared suddenly to come to a head and to assume threatening proportions; and from quarters to which we might have looked for friendship and consideration—having regard to our traditions and to a certain community of interest—we were confronted with suspicion, and even with hate. We had to recognize that our success itself, however legitimate, was imputed to us as a crime; that our love of peace was taken as a sign of weakness; and that our indifference to foreign criticism was construed into an invitation to insult us. The prospect of our discomfiture was regarded with hardly disguised satisfaction by our competitors, who, at the same time, must have been forced to own that we alone held our possessions throughout the world in trust for all, and that we admit them to our markets as freely as we do our own subjects. I regret that such a feeling should exist, and that we should be forced to acknowledge its existence; but, as it does exist, I rejoice that it found expression. No better service was ever done to this nation, for it has enabled us to show, in face of all, that while we are resolute to fulfil our obligations we are equally determined to maintain our rights.

Three weeks ago, in the words of Mr. Foster, the leader of the House of Commons of the Dominion of Canada, “the great mother-empire stood splendidly isolated.” And how does she stand to-day? She stands secure in the strength of her own resources, in the firm resolution of her people without respect to party, and in the abundant loyalty of her children from one end of the Empire to another.

The resolution which was conveyed to the Prime Minister on behalf of the Australian colonies, and the display of patriotic enthusiasm on the part of the Dominion of Canada, came to us as a natural response to the outburst of national spirit in the United Kingdom, and as a proof that British hearts beat in unison throughout the world, whatever may be the distances that separate us.

Then let us cultivate those sentiments. Let us do all in our power by improving our communications, by developing our commercial relations, by co-operating in mutual defence, and none of us then will ever feel isolated; no part of the Empire will stand alone, so long as it can count upon the common interest of all in its welfare and in its security. That is the moral I have derived from recent events. That is the lesson I desire to impress on my countrymen. In the words of Tennyson, let

And in the time to come, the time that must come, when these colonies of ours have grown in stature, in population, and in strength, this league of kindred nations, this federation of Greater Britain, will not only provide for its own security, but will be a potent factor in maintaining the peace of the world. Our guest to-night goes out to take his part in this work of drawing tighter the bonds which unite us to our children in the Antipodes. He goes to an infant colony, an infant which is destined to become a giant, and the future possibilities of which no man can measure. Queensland has an area, which—shall I say?—is three times greater than the German Empire. (Laughter and cheers.) It has a soil which can produce anything. It has vast mineral resources. In a generation its population has increased fifteen-fold. It has already a revenue of three or four millions sterling. It has completed 2500 miles of railway. It has exports valued at ten millions sterling, all of them, except a small fraction, coming to the United Kingdom or to some of the British possessions. Yet this colony of Queensland, great as it is, is only one of seven, all equally important, equally energetic, equally prosperous, equally loyal. I say that the relations between these colonies and ourselves are questions of momentous import to us both, and I hope that our rulers and our people will leave no stone unturned to show the store that we all set on the continued amity, the continued affection, of our kindred beyond the sea. That is the message we ask Lord Lamington to take with him, and we wish him health and prosperity in the colony over which he is about to preside.

In responding to the toast of “The Chairman,” which was proposed by Sir James Garrick, Mr. Chamberlain said:

Nothing could be more gratifying to me than that this toast should have been proposed by the eloquent representative of the colony which we have met to honor as well as its future Governor, and nothing could be more agreeable than the kindly response which you have given to the toast. It almost emboldens me to think that there may yet be occasions upon which I shall venture to address my fellow-countrymen—a point on which, I admit, I have had grave doubts since I have become acquainted with certain criticisms of my recent performances. When I became Secretary of State for the Colonies I accepted with that office certain duties, not the least pleasant being that of presiding over gatherings similar to this. I attended a meeting of the friends of South Africa on an occasion interesting especially to our colony of Natal, and I made a speech upon that occasion in which, in my simple and ingenuous way, I ventured to point out that this was on the whole a considerable Empire, and that any true view of its perspective would take into account the greatness of the colonies, and the magnitude of their resources, as well as the past history of the mother country. And thereupon I was surprised to read, in the report of a speech of a minor luminary of the late Government on the occasion of the recent raid into the Transvaal, that that unfortunate occurrence was entirely due to the “spread-eagle speech” which I had made. It is extraordinary what great events spring from trifling causes. I had no conception that my words would travel so far or have so great an influence. To the best of my knowledge and belief, I have never made a “spread-eagle” speech in my life. I think I have been able to distinguish between patriotism and jingoism. But in order that there may be no mistake, I desire to say now, in the most formal way, that the few remarks which I have addressed to you to-night are not to be taken as an intimation to any individual to carry on war on his own account, or to make an invasion upon a friendly nation with which we are at present at peace. But this is not all, because this afternoon I read in an evening newspaper that this same speech, which I thought so natural and so innocent, was really the dictating cause of our difficulties in British Guiana, and of the complications with our cousins across the Atlantic. It appears that in speaking of Imperial unity, in endeavoring to popularize that idea among my countrymen, I am giving offence to other nations.

Gentlemen, I cannot help thinking that Lord Rosebery was mistaken when, a short time ago, he said that the “Little Englanders” no longer existed among us. A pretty pass we must have come to if the Minister who is responsible for the British colonies is forbidden to speak of their future, of their greatness, of the importance of maintaining friendly relations with them, of the necessity of promoting the unity of the British race, for fear of giving offence. I remember a story of a certain burgomaster in a continental town to whom complaints were made that naughty boys were accustomed to throw mud upon the passers-by. He was asked to intervene, and he issued a proclamation which was to the effect that all respectable inhabitants were requested to wear their second-hand clothes in order not to give offence. I do not so understand the position which I hold. I decline to speak with bated breath of our colonies for fear of giving offence to foreign nations. We mean them no harm; we hope they mean us none. But not for any such consideration will we be withheld from speaking of points which have for us the greatest interest and upon which the future of our Empire depends. Sir James Garrick has kindly attributed to me very creditable motives in seeking the office which has been conferred upon me. He is perhaps not far wrong in thinking that I have long believed that the future of the colonies and the future of this country were interdependent, and that this was a creative time, that this was the opportunity which, once let slip, might never recur, for bringing together all the people who are under the British flag, and for consolidating them into a great self-sustaining and self-protecting Empire whose future will be worthy of the traditions of the race.