Teddies are among the enduring irresistibles - few more so than Michael Bond's Paddington Bear, who brings an extra dimension of flair and confidence to bright button-eyes and a cuddly shape. It is now forty years since "Mr and Mrs Brown first met Paddington on a railway platform. In fact, that was how he came to have such an unusual name for a bear, for Paddington was the name of the station."
Paddington cuts a small but formidable figure, and is far more intimidating than Winnie the Pooh, such is his self-possession. Pooh is adorable and not as bright as Paddington, he usually spills his honey all over himself and despite being seventy years old, is still quite immature, whereas Paddington, clearly a discerning intellectual and adept at verbal confrontation, tends not to stick his paws in his marmalade, preferring it between two slices of bread. In a crisis Pooh would panic; Paddington, even when faced with oozing cream buns and wayward wallpaper paste, would at least try to take control. Above all, if in doubt or dispute about anything, Paddington can always rely on his ability to outstare most combatants. Among his many qualities is his ability to wear a hat, any hat, with style. He is also an exotic. After all, he comes from "Darkest Peru". For all his apparent Englishness - regulation duffel coat, gentlemanly eccentricity and singular approach to spelling - Paddington has always retained his outsider status. His Peruvian origins confer a sense of mystery that is far more intriguing than the fact that he is a teddy well capable of thriving in West London human society. That famous label, "Please Look After This Bear", is quite unnecessary. Paddington can look after himself - and does.
It hardly seems to matter that he socialises only with humans or that his particular friend is Mr Gruber, a kindly antique dealer. It is also interesting that Paddington spends so much time at home with Mr and Mrs Brown. Their children, Judy and Jonathan, attend boarding school, so Paddington is invariably in adult company. None of his close friends happens to be either other a toy or an animal. Chances are Paddington would treat the family dog as a pet rather than an equal - and as for a cat, well, that would be a clash of self-sufficient creatures.
When at the zoo with Jonathan and Judy, he is another visitor - albeit one armed with a supply of marmalade sandwiches - peering at the animals. Paddington does not actively seek out company for the sake of merely whiling away time; he is too busy.
This is a resourceful bear who recycles Christmas wrapping paper and has been known to bring the family washing off to the local launderette when the Browns were ill. Admittedly, that proved an eventful visit . . . He has also "deckerated" his room, appeared on a TV quiz show, and keeps a detailed scrapbook.
Always relevant is that, however settled Paddington is at Number 32 Windsor Gardens, there remains the possibility that he may wish to return - or indeed be summoned - home to Peru. Aunt Lucy keeps in touch, usually by the occasional picture postcard. While he could be described as the definitive colonial, he is also a natural cosmopolitan. His life is entirely urban; there are few forays into the countryside. He does drive - but he admits to having to stand up - "I can't see out properly if I'm sitting down" - and is known to have been bitterly aggrieved when, on entering a competition, he received only a runners-up consolation bookmark instead of the Rolls-Royce he had set his sights on.
In hindsight, this may have not been such a bad outcome. When finding himself the token passenger as a driving instructor is being tested by a fellow instructor, Paddington brings an unusual interpretation to the road sign for roadworks. "It looks like someone trying to open an umbrella." The sign declaring "Bear Left" causes him some distress: "A bear's been left?" he cries.
Much of Paddington's appeal is guaranteed by Peggy Fortnum's drawings. Outside of his written adventures, the cult of Paddington Bear has been consolidated by the thousands of images inspired by his striking appearance. He has presence. A toy Paddington Bear comes in a variety of shapes and sizes, from colourful rattlers and teething rings for infants, to giant Paddingtons large enough to fill a chair, or even the driver's seat of a RollsRoyce. There is also his film and video career. Considering the famed aggression of London cabbies, Paddington is believed never to have failed successfully to hail a taxi. How many humans could claim as much?
Paddington - A Classic Collection, by Michael Bond Collins, £12.99 in UK