THERE was a saying of an ancient Greek orator, who, unfortunately, very much undervalued what we generally call the better portion of the community — namely, women; he made a very disrespectful observation, which I am going to quote, not for the purpose of concurring with it, but for the purpose of an illustration. Pericles, the great Athenian statesman, said with regard to women, Their greatest merit was to be never heard of.*
Now, what Pericles untruly said of women, I am very much disposed to say of foreign affairs — their great merit would be to be never heard of. Unfortunately, instead of being never heard of, they are always heard of, and you hear almost of nothing else; and I can’t promise you, gentlemen, that you will be relieved from this everlasting din, because the consequences of an unwise meddling with foreign affairs are consequences that will for some time necessarily continue to trouble you, and that will find their way to your pockets in the shape of increased taxation.
On the roller-coaster career of Pericles, see our post Pericles and the Fickle Public of Athens.
Précis
In a historic speech in Scotland in 1879, William Gladstone apologised for raising the subject of foreign policy, knowing that his audience was already weary of it. But he urged them to take a keen interest, since bad foreign policy will always come back to hurt the ordinary voter, who pays the price in the form of higher taxation. (58 / 60 words)