The reviewer ends by saying, “Mr. Rutherford is a representative New Zealander, and in many ways a typical New Zealander. His interesting book is worth reading. It is compounded of keen observation, shrewd judgment, parish prejudice, and pure ignorance ... in its narrowness and in its depth, its arrogance and its enlightenment, it comments upon New Zealand as effectively as upon Europe; it shows us why Dominion standards are condemned in Britain, sometimes justly, and it may suggest to British readers how the Dominions feel in regard to the comments of hasty British tourists with frequently less ability than Mr. Rutherford displays.” Yes, it does suggest that. It also suggests to one to hope that free trade and liberty may be maintained in the matter. Let the colonial say exactly what he thinks about Europe, but let the European say exactly what he thinks about the colonies, and then neither side can have a grievance. But when the colonial complains of the hasty and narrow judgment of the European, let him have a thought for the possible beam in his own eye. Another time, on board, another Australian complained that the works of G. K. Chesterton were bosh. “Thank God,” he added, “he’s not an Australian.” But fancy if G. K. Chesterton had been an Australian. One wonders what would have been the effect on his figure, his style, and his philosophy. Instead of his romantic, adventurous optimism, would his genius have been sultry, pessimistic, and rebellious? [Illustration: IF G. K. CHESTERTON HAD BEEN AN AUSTRALIAN] I think he would have written gigantic epics on the Blue Mountains, the Bush, and gum-trees; wild romances about bush-rangers, and beach-combers, and swinging songs about Botany Bay. I can imagine G. K. Chesterton, looking lean and spare, riding a horse bareback. One of his qualities would have certainly developed in the same way, had he been born and bred over the sea, and that is his geniality, his large, hospitable nature, his belief in goodness; for hospitality and friendliness grow if anything quicker on Australian and colonial soil than they do in England. Here is a fragment of verse supposed to be written by G. K. Chesterton, had he been born and bred in the country which Adam Lindsay Gordon sang:-- _“The Melbourne Cup,” or “Hippodromania”_ The crowd came out of the Eastern lands To see the Melbourne Cup, Like Titans under tiger skies They were as simple as surprise And pleased as a bulldog pup. Beyond the twisted gum-trees They suddenly ceased to swarm; Like statues the wild crowd stood still, Like soldiers little children drill, And silence came upon the hill More loud than a thunderstorm. And the bell rang a little, And the riders were up at the post, Full of strange fire the racers strip And ramp and rock and boil and skip Each like an angel in a ship That charges the tall white coast.