He never realised what the British command of the sea really meant until he engaged in that trip. - "Doctor" Ward, of Sydney Telegraph
The greatest editor is he
Who trains each thinking cell,
So that he sees when he should see --
When all the facts fit well.
The wisest editor you'll find,
Of all the thinking throng
Is he who goes extremely blind
When all the facts are wrong.
Now he who props a falling cause
Like Freetrade, I surmise,
And is a medico of laws
Must be both great and wise.
Therefore, he sees when all is well,
And doesn't when it's not,
Because he's trained each thinking cell
For sense or simple rot.
Self-hypnotised, he proves at will
That black is virgin white;
Long years he practises until
He comes to think he's right.
Then all is well; his agile brain
O'er rocky places vaults;
And, if he would come back again,
He lightly somersaults.
But turning Reason inside out --
Rightly the sport of Youth --
Brings on short-sightedness and doubt
And mars the hunt for Truth.
The fact long balanced on its head
Is difficult to place
When you require the thing instead
To look well on its base.
And facts seem hardly facts at all
When many you have blinked,
And said the writing on the wall
Was wrong -- or indistinct.
Then plain statistics in a row
Convey no picture true;
Romance lives in each folio
Of ev'ry book of blue.
To be "impressed" -- to "realise,"
'Tis necessary then
To gaze on things with startled eyes,
And peer and gaze again.
Then home you come with knowledge packed,
And serve out from your store,
With pride and joy, some simple fact
That all men knew before.
First published in The Bulletin, 23 September 1909
