d helped to
save civilization.

Smuts is more many-sided than any other contemporary Prime Minister and
for that matter, those that have gone into retirement, that is, men like
Asquith in England and Clemenceau in France. Among world statesmen the
only mind comparable to his is that of Woodrow Wilson. They have in
common a high intellectuality. But Wilson in his prime lacked the hard
sense and the accurate knowledge of men and practical affairs which are
among the chief Smuts assets.

Speaking of Premiers brings me to the inevitable comparison between
Smuts and Lloyd George. I have seen them both in varying circumstances,
both in public and in private and can attempt some appraisal.

Each has been, and remains, a pillar of Empire. Each has emulated the
Admirable Crichton in the variety and multiplicity of public posts.
Lloyd George has held five Cabinet posts in England and Smuts has
duplicated the record in South Africa. Each man is an inspired orator
who owes much of his advancement to eloquent tongue. Their platform
manner is totally different. Lloyd George is fascinatingly magnetic in
and out of the spotlight while Smuts is more coldly logical. When you
hear Lloyd George you are stirred and even exalted by his golden
imagery. The sound of his voice falls on the ear like music. You admire
the daring of his utterance but you do not always remember everything he
says.

With Smuts you listen and you remember. He has no tricks of the
spellbinder's trade. He is forceful, convincing, persuasive, and what is
more important, has the quality of permanency. Long after you have left
his presence the words remain in your memory. If I had a case in court I
would like to have Smuts try it. His specialty is pleading.

Lloyd George seldom reads a book. The only volumes I ever heard him say
that he had read were Mr. Dooley and a collection of the Speeches of
Abraham Lincoln. He has books read for him and with a Roosevelt faculty
for assimilation, gives you the impression that he has spent his life in
a library.

Smuts is one of the best-read men I have met. He seems to know something
about everything. He ranges from Joseph Conrad to Kant, from Booker
Washington to Tolstoi. History, fiction, travel, biography, have all
come within his ken. I told him I proposed to go from Capetown to the
Congo and possibly to Angola. His face lighted up. "Ah, yes," he said,
"I have read all about those countries. I can see them before me in my