THE UNCHANGING ENGLISHMAN

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXIV, 6 January 1931, Page 2

THE UNCHANGING ENGLISHMAN

IN A WORLD OF CHANGE

A NEW ZEALANDER’S VIEWS

(By T.C'.L.) The Englishman in his native land is a person of strong convictions and equally strong prejudices. He thinks along certain lines and in a certain way, mostly because his fathers did before him, and because it is the right thing to do. It is difficult to move him from his preconceived views and habits or for him to imbibe new ideas and suggestions. He is the stable factor of the Kingdom, yet his conservatism in a time of rapid change and readjustment like Britain is experiencing at present is a source of weakness, perhaps of danger. It was a well known American correspondent who cabled to his paper in 1925 that there was every sign of a revolution in England, that at last the great British Empire was to crack up at its source. It was the time of the great strike and London was preparing for war—civil war. The correspondent had been in Russia at the time of the Kerensky fiasco and the Bolshevist revolution. He had also been in Germany when the deluded masses turned on the

military and declared for a republic. He was confident that at last civil war was coming to Britain. The day after lie despatched the wire warning America of what was coming he happened to lie walking down Whitehall. Before him were a number of strikers and strike leaders on their way to Westminster. He • was curious to know what would happen as they passed the Cenotaph. He was not kept long in suspense. Just before they reached the monolith they halted and bared their heads. He rushed to the nearest telegraph office and wired :“Mistaken. There will be no revolution.” Strikers who at such a time of tension could honour the dead and observe the conventions would never descend to war amongst themselves. And he was right. The forces of law and order, the stable elements of the nation, rallied to the call of the authorities, and the Strike was over before it commenced. . . Conservatism and loyalty to tradition are born in the bone of the Englishman, and therefore they are almost impossible to eradicate in a world of swiftly changing economic conditions. The Bank of England building typifies the unchanging character of the people. Years ago it was decided to erect a new ban to replace the old one, but the plans provided for the retention pf the hideous unwindowed wall in Threadneedle Street. A modern building, costing millions sterling, yes; but a complete break with the past, no. Centuries ago somebody tried to break into the bank. A special 'guard was formed to watch at night. It has kept watch ever since, though any of the buildings that have since been built would stand a siege by a modern army. At the Tower of London the Beefeaters, in their medieval dress, still parade and hold exercise and keep vigil and perform rites that have subsisted through the ages. , On the anniversary of King Charles execution his statue in Trafalgar Square is covered with flowers. In Defoe’s time they put pots of herbs, on the desks of every court room m London to keep off the plague. The pots of herbs are yet put on every desk in every court room in London. In the early centuries certain' bakers used to make muffins and sell them in the streets on a ; Sunday afternoon: “Muffins for tea!” “Hot muffins for tea.!” still ring out' on- the Sunday'afternoon and you may still get your “muffins for tea.” * Then there is the lavender man who

cries shrilly but incomprehensively to the visitor : “Lavender ! sweet lavender!” and you may still buy hunches of lavender to sweeten your room and keep the evil spirits away. • Then there is the coal man who thunders out words that apparently have. no connection with coal, yet is understood by the housewife, busy as she may he at the back of the house. The fish vendor has another cry, or cries, that has come down the corridors of time. No one wants these vendors with their cries to be abolished from the streets. They are a, link with the past, and the past is hallowed. In some of the old cities the wakeman still rings the bells and cries out the hours of the night The knife grinder still peddles around calling for custom, and the chair mender still pays his regular visit. In the house domestic customs vary little from the customs of the past, ins towels are folded in the same way, the coal fires are laid exactly as they used to be when grates were invented. In certain shops it has been the custom foi years for the salesman to wear long-tail coats, and every important establishment has its commissaire, m the uniform of a field marshal, strutting aiound to open the door of motors and usher the customers into the shops. The eight-in-hand coach from Hyde Park to Richmond, with the Jehu in Die dress of his ancestors, and plying the long whip, still runs. The astonishing thing is the patronage accorded by the public. The coach is a connectio with the past, and must not be allowed to pass out, even m a world of swift. m The 6 Queen arrive in the picturesque State coach, J raw^ f / * t cream ponies, on the first day ... ,j e ’ at precisely the same hour, as did tne Kings for hundreds of years mist ß Up the straight they come pieceded by P the gaily caparisoned House- ! hold troops, amidst the plaudits of t nnnulace just as enthusiastic 101 loyalty a’ml all “^“§!™&rS£ !c“S S ‘Tyo?,“ A»4 (SS * $ still survive? The Epsom course as a j racecourse, and the Derby meeting as a race meeting, cannot be senously ! garded. They are but a link, a pious link, with the past. J-hey p Sows through Which you see People and events of the dim and distant past. Everyone is lighthearted and uoy the coster and the gentle oik, workman and the master, the guessm and the bookie, the cream yendoi and fhp fish vendor. It is their day > the day when they meet °n a^mmon level out of the 365 days of It’s the thing to do, because it belongs

‘°Tho Es in his coach, and horsemen, still leaves Bucking ace to Westminster to open just as his ancestors used to do, ana anyone suggesting that .the practise be discontinued would receive shoit shiitt. The Lord Mayor s procession is a other institution that must be P r ® se \ vec at all costs. It causes a great deal ot inconvenience, and keeps Lond working practically the whole day. People pour in from the countiy and every part of the metropolis and "ne the streets and engage all the windows and doors through which the! procession passes, and for hours and afterwards it is almost impossible to use the route. The same vehicles are used as in centuries past- and same observances are carried out.. The only additions are the displays made by the overseas Dominions, Die Londoner likes the show, and those who express disapproval of it as a waste of time and a relic of mediaevalism command no hearing. If you attend a luncheon or banquet

the guests are given seats in their order of precedence. Any departure would be unpardonable. Even the servants have their order of precedence. When they come to sit down at meals, .no woman’s maid would yield her precedence to a mere housemaid under any consideration.

Most of the European ‘monarchies disappeared during or after the war, but the British monarchy emerged more strongly entrenched in the minds and hearts of the people than ever. The monarchy is a visible symbol of Empire, but it also forms a strong conection with the past, and is the embodiments of the British conservatism—and power. That appeals to the poor as well as to the rich. For the King has the same affection for his people. He is something more than a mere figurehead and the centre of a hierachy; he is a real human man with a great heart and a character and a courage that have been tested and refined in life’s fierce furnaces,