Our heroes were
men; these are _poseurs_. Get to understand Davis, Tone, or any of our
great ones, and you will find them human, gay, and lovable. "Were you
ever in love, Davis?" asked one of his wondering admirers, and prompt
and natural came the reply: "I'm never out of it." We swear by Tone for
his manly virtues; we love him because we say to ourselves: "What a fine
fellow for a holiday." A friend of Mitchel's travelling with him once
through a storm, was astonished to find him suddenly burst out into a
fine recitation, which he delivered with fine effect. He was joyous in
spirit. For their buoyancy we love them all, and because of it we
emulate them. We are influenced, not by the man who always wants to
preach a sermon at us, but by the one with whom we go for a holiday. Our
history-makers were great, joyous men, of fine spirit, fine imagination,
fine sensibility, and fine humour. They loved life; they loved their
fellow man; they loved all the beautiful, brave things of earth. When
you know them you can picture them scaling high mountains and singing
from the summits, or boating on fine rivers in the sunlight, or walking
about in the dawn, to the music of Creation, evolving the philosophy of
revolutions and building beautiful worlds. You get no hint of this from
the absurd propagandist play, yet this is what the heart of man craves.
When he does not get it, he cannot explain what he wants; but he knows
what he does not want, and he goes away and keeps his distance.
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