How to be a Brit

the
hazards, the authorities stepped in by failing to put up — or perhaps by taking
down — many signs which might have given away necessary information. Side
streets, as a rule, are still indicated: their names are displayed somewhere
near the comer, if not actually on it, and all you need remember is that the
name-plate is likely to be positioned higher up or lower down than you would
expect which adds piquancy to the search if you are driving and the traffic is
moving fast. But to find the name of a main thoroughfare is often well-nigh
impossible. The official explanation is that everybody knows the main
roads so why waste money on signs? A brilliant argument. Show me, after all,
the man from Melton Mowbray, Amsterdam, or Bloomington (Illinois) who doesn’t
recognise at first sight any section of the Seven Sisters Road.
    3. Private citizens help in
their modest way by keeping house numbers secret. They refrain from putting
numbers on their gates or front doors, they do not light numbers up, and —
cleverest of all — they give names to their houses instead of numbers. The
Dutch guilder may be temporarily stronger than the pound, but what Dutchman
would have the flair to guess that ‘Fairy Orchard’ is to be found between
numbers 117 and 121 on a street seven miles long?
    But I have to admit that my
chauvinism has been badly shaken by a letter from a girl who lives in a German
village. She had read the relevant chapter in my earlier book and she was
frankly disdainful of our methods. Her village, she said, beats London hands
down — and it does. They have had the brilliant idea of numbering their houses
in chronological order. The first house to be built is therefore Number
1, although it stands halfway along the main street. The second to be built,
which stands at the beginning of the street at the eastern end, is Number 2.
Number 3, the third to be built, is on the opposite side and at the western
end, and so on. I have long been prepared to grant that the Germans are more
methodical and systematic than we are, but to find that they can beat us in
creating muddle — that hurts. At that I have to cry: Halt! Britannia, awake!
Decadence can go too far.

HOW
TO PANIC QUIETLY
     
     
    Foreign newspapers and
magazines never stop sending correspondents here to investigate the ‘English
disease’, to analyse our decline and our despair and panic as we cower in the
economic gutter. They arrive here to find no panic, no despair. With their
logical minds they know that they ought to find them; but they don’t. When they
discuss the matter with the British, they expect some defence of this
lackadaisical attitude, or excuses for certain failures. But what the British
say is this: ‘Yes, I quite agree, aren’t we in an awful mess?’
    ‘Oh, we are hopeless,’ they
say and order another double whisky. Try to discuss the pound tactfully, and
they reply jovially, almost proudly: ‘Yes, I wonder how anything can sink so
low,’ and they ring up their travel agent to book a skiing holiday in
Switzerland. The foreign observer expects the British nation to sink into deep
despondency whenever the pound falls two cents and be overjoyed when it gains
half a cent. But most Britons have no idea — except on the days of greatest
crisis — whether the pound has risen or fallen, and the nation is as calm as it
was in 1940 when Hitler was about to cross the Channel but didn’t.
    One day you may confront
one of these foreign journalists, so I should like to draw attention to a few
of their stock questions and offer you the proper, British answers.
    Q. Why don’t the British
panic?
    A. They do, but very quietly.
It is impossible for the naked eye to tell their panic from their ecstasy.
    Q. Why don’t they work
harder?
    A. They just don’t like
hard work. The Germans have a reputation for hard work, so they like to keep it
up. The British find it boring. Then, apart from a tiny and despicable
minority, the British dislike the idea of taking part in the rat race. They
will give up certain advantages — knowingly and with their eyes open — in order
to be able to stick to certain values and a way of life.
    Q. But do they stick to
their values? Can they stick to their values? Nearly all their
traditional virtues — patience, tolerance, cool-headedness, wry humour,
courtesy — are the product of richness and power. Isn’t there a real danger that
with riches and power these virtues will disappear?
    A. Yes, there is a