[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Sir,—Nothing is more impressive
to an American in London at such a time as this than the cheerful fortitude with which the Englishman faces adversity. Good sportsmanship is a traditional characteristic of the nation. But it is one thing to lose a 'Varsity Boat Race, or to have a foreigner's horse win the Derby, or an American yacht outsail a ' Shamrock ' ; it is quite another to come up with a smile—though it be a grim smile—after being prostrated by a titanic strike.
I instinctively lift my hat to the men and women who have sustained this suicidal blow ; who have seen promising business prospects fade away ; who have been staggered, but not over- whelmed, by disaster—men and women who, in spite of all this, have given away to no hysteria, surrendered not to con- sternation and yielded to no impulse towards panic. It takes what we refer to affectionately in my country as a " thorough- bred " to stand undismayed in the face of such ill-fortune. I have seen volatile Parisians explode like fireworks over infinitely less, and I have seen mixed races in America do the same. There are scores of things about the public's behaviour that come to mind as I reflect upon what I have seen and heard during the past week, but there is just one more that I would mention. I want to applaud the good sense which prompts Englishmen to leave their firearms at home in troublous times ; also the sound policy of the London police in voluntarily dis- arming themselves when on ordinary patrol duty. One shot either by an irresponsible hoodlum or by an officer of the law may easily lead to ghastly consequences. The sight of blood rarely fails to inflame murderous passions.
A broken head or a black eye is a trivial thing. But one man shot down often means war. It meant that twelve years ago in a certain Balkan State. I firmly believe England has been spared desperate rioting so far in this crisis largely because no life has been taken wilfully or by accident. It is all a tribute to the sanity of the men in uniform as well as the men who have—or, who believe they have—a grievance.
I am, Sir, etc., J. FREDERICK ESSARY.
London Office of the Baltimore Sun.