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The key to Canada's strong emotional urge to the mother country (which New York Timesman John MacCormac in his recent book on Canada* called "an Oedipus complex" which Canada has never outgrown) is to be found in the series of definitions of Canada's position in the Empire. Beginning with the colonial letters-patent and running past many milestones to the British North America Act (1867) and finally to the Statute of Westminster (1931), the Empire has gradually loosed every hold over Canada — except one. The most recent definition: "The self-governing Dominions are autonomous Communities within the British Empire, equal in status, though united by a common allegiance to the Crown." The person of the King is Britain's constant magnet.
G.G. In order that Canadians may have a tangible reminder of the Crown, the titular head of their Government is the King's representative, the Governor General. Last year, when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth visited Canada, they arranged that the next occupants of Rideau Hall, the Governor General's mansion, should be someone who could tighten the allegiance to the Crown—preferably Royalty. After the death of popular Baron Tweedsmuir, the Duke of Devonshire turned down the job. Last April it was given to Alexander Augustus Frederick William Alfred George Cambridge, Earl of Athlone and Viscount Trematon, who is known to his elder sister. Queen Mary, as "Algie." His wife is Princess Alice, granddaughter of Queen Victoria. The Earl of Athlone was appointed to the post in 1914, but at the outbreak of World War I decided to stay home and fight.
Since his arrival in Canada last June, the 66-year-old G.G. has fulfilled his vague job admirably. A previous G.G. once complained about the title because, he said, he was not a general and did not govern.
The G.G. is to Canada what the King is to Britain. Canadians define his job by quoting from The Gondoliers:
First, we polish off some batches </br> Of political dispatches </br> And foreign politicians circumvent: </br> Then, if business isn't heavy, </br> We may hold a Royal Leveé, </br> Or ratify some Acts of Parliament. </br>
If the G.G. is a particularly strong personality, Canadians quote Tennyson and say that he may occasionally "shape the whisper of the throne."
The Earl of Athlone is so regal in bearing that when he looks around he moves the whole top half of his body. He is also exceedingly kindly, and because of his charitable efforts on behalf of two unprofitable British professions has been nicknamed "Prince of Beggars" and "The Midwife's Friend." He is an excellent specimen — almost too good, in days when figureheads are taken to sum up their societies—out of the top drawer of British nobility. A huntin', shootin', fishin' county gentleman, he is not unlike Cartoonist David Low's ultra-ultra-conservative Colonel Blimp. When he left London for his new post, his most edifying remark was to some fellow members of the Marlborough Club: he said he would "try not to let the Club down."