A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK I T is the habit of the British
to count their losses before they count their gains. They are always losing things: battles (but not wars), liberties (but not freedom), colonies (but not their Empire). One of the few things they seem to have got out of the way of losing is their temper. We remain, I am sure, as irascible as ever; but we are not so often irate. These things scarcely lend themselves to statis- tical computation; but I shall be surprised if my readers, looking back over (say) the last eight years, are not in their turn surprised at the infrequency with which they have given way to wrath. They will scarcely ascribe this to lack of provocation; all the ingredients of saeva indignatio have coagulated, often in triplicate, upon the surface of their daily lives. Yet I believe that the occasions on which they have lost their tempers have been rare. One suspects that this is partly because we are becoming more considerate; and one hopes that obsequious would not be a better word.- We know that times are difficult, that everybody has his own prob- lems; and from not expecting very much it is a short step to putting up with a great deal. Anyhow,, the long and short of it is that we are less peppery than we believe our fore- fathers to have been, and that this is on balance a good thing. For Advanced Students Only. Is it a fact, and if so why is it a fact, that none of Shakespeare's characters suffers, while on the stage, from an uncontrollable loss of temper ?