Evening star., 1934-09-16

cause England seems TO me very
pleasant country to live in, and can
not imagine any other country should
like as much if had been born there,
except, perhaps, Sweden or Switzer-
land. Certainly not any of the "big"
countries.
You see, I am a normal, peaceable
sort of person, aware of the fact that
years on earth are few enough; and
though it may not really matter
whether I enjoy them or not, I have
no personal desire to spend them less
agreeably than I need. I do not want
to bait Jews, or wear shirts of par
ticular color, or bark out words of
command to total strangers, or drop
bombs on people whose identity
could only vaguely guess at from a
map.
I like England, then, for the very
simple and prosaic reason that I am
tolerably comfortable in England, and
so, believe, are the majority of her
inhabitants. Even the somber tragedy
Of unemployment does not alter the
fact that the unemployed Englishman
is less unlucky than the unemployed
German or American. Certainly the
average EngliShman, whether in or
out of a job, can pass his time with
fewer worrying preoccupations than
his counterpart in any other of
the great countries of the world. And
the reason for this is partly, of course,
sheer good fortune. England has no
national grievances-except a general
one against the continued malaise of
civilization. She has no corridor SUBJ
dividing her territory, no irredentist
movement, no Hitlerismus, no bank
failures, no bootleggers, no Ku Klux
Klan, no royalist plotting and no
Ogpu. Really, if her felicity consisted
only in the things she lacks it would
be enough to justify one in liking her.
Position Is Flaw.
OF course, England is not perfect.
Her cooking, despite the excellence of
roast beef and beer, is rarely as good
as that most continental countries.
She does not know how to make coffee,
and she does not know what to do
about Ireland. Her climate is less
idyllic than that of Madeira. But it
is nice enough, in its way, and it is
so changeful that it is never tedious.
The only big flaw in England is her
position. She is too near other coun-
tries. 1t is a pity she cannot clear
out into more open spaces, like the
big London schools when they find
themselves cramped. Personally, I
should select position in the midst
of the Indian Ocean, about midway
between Freemantle and Cape Town.
1t would be less convenient for Mr..
MacDonald'S flying trips, but it would
make better empire center.
Though, in point of fact, when I say
like England, I do not think of the
empire at all. Nor. in descending pro-
gression, do I mean London, the ma
tional government, the Conservative
party, Eton, Britannia. Derby day or
folksongs that end in "hey-nonny no."
Not that these items are necessarily
dislikable; merely that they don't
usually occur to me when I think of
England. And, by the way, I pro-
nounce it "Ingland." Some people
say England" and there is no reason
at all why they shouldn't. if they
prefer it.
Which is, to begin with, superbly
typical of the England that like
the England that doesn't care what
you call her so long as you are an
averagely respectable citizen and don't
behave outrageously. England is beau
tifully casual about the things that
other countries are likely to click their
heels about. Her national anthem is
| some out-of-date anti-Jacobite dog
gerel set to German hymn tune; her
| national personification is a paunchy
profiteer originating in political squib
written in the time of Queen Anne.
Queen Anne is dead, but John Bull
still lives, and his truculent adiposity
has done England much harm in for
eign newspapers. England, however,
is fond of the great, hulking fellow.
She is quite illogical enough to like
being perSonified by a character in
nowise f1attering or appropriate, be-
cause England is quite illogical enough
for anything You cannot reason her
out like a Euclid theorem, and you
cannot argue her into a philosophy,
because you will have such immense
difficulty in getting at any agreed first
principles.
Constitution Non Existent.
If, for instance. you begin with the
English constitution, you are up against
the singular obstacle that it has no
official existence. 1t is, in fact, a
sublime mystery to which England
pays her most fantastic tribute in
using its name as a verbal test for
drunkenness.
Turn, then, to the Church of Eng
land. You will find it governed by
80 articles, though they are by no
means all of them definite articles. On
the contrary, some are understood to
be obsolete, and others have never been
understood at all. Nevertheless, the
Church of England, to which only
minority of English people belong, is
undoubtedly the Church of England.
And if you consider the Bank of
England as foundation for building
up any documented theory, you will
be logged again, for the bank is the
deepest myster of all, mystery which,
with uncanny and unarguable percep-
ton. the English refer to as an old
lady.
Now all of these things, by their
very incomprehensibility, conspire to
make England a pleasant country to
live in, because they form terrific
bulwark against the ills of the mod
ern world. This childlike and almost
mystic illogicality of England is an
atmosphere which a thoughtless man
can breathe with huge satisfaction
and thoughtful man with the same
| satisfaction tempered with half
amused affection. But whether he is
thoughtful or thoughtless and even
if he is thoroughly dissatisfied, the
atmosphere is one in which he finds
it hard to be ruthless. 1t is difficult,
| for instance, to work up an excessive
enthusiasm about changing the Eng
lish constitution when one is faced
with the initial problem of deciding
what, if anything, that constitution is.
Which Is why, Ia.4., II IA history,
most things have happened at one