Captain J. S. Rankine, the khaki-clad giant who took his seat for East Toxteth to-day, had a warm reception, all the more grateful in view of the blizzard that raged without. The temperature of the House fell rapidly, however, when Mr. Snowden proceeded to outline his views on the subject of peace. In vain he attempted to show that there was a considerable party in Germany ready to come to terms if only they knew what our terms were. Members listened in chilly silence. They thawed into laughter when the Hon. Member with some lack of humour quoted the German Chancellor's declaration, "We do not threaten small nations;" and they cheered when he quoted, with intent to condemn, Lord Rosebery's statement that Germany must be utterly crushed. Nor was the House more impressed by Mr. Trevelyan's proposal that as there might be a peace-party in Germany it was our duty to "state our full terms and find out."
The Prime Minister's reply was, I fear, very painful to the pacificists. The German Chancellor's statement he found to be one of "colossal and shameless audacity." German Socialists might prate of peace, but only twenty out of five times that number in the Reichstag had the courage to vote against the War Credit. Our terms were already on record in the speech which he made at the Lord Mayor's Banquet in 1914. Until Belgium—"and I will add Serbia"—has been fully reinstated, until France is secured against aggression, until the smaller nationalities are safeguarded, until the military domination of Prussia is destroyed, "not until then shall we or any of our gallant Allies abate by one jot our prosecution of this War." The cheers that greeted this declaration lasted almost as long as the speech itself. In the ensuing debate Mr. Ponsonby, Sir W. Byles, and one or two others emitted what Mr. Stanton picturesquely described as "the croakings and bleatings of the fatted lambs who had besmirched their own country." But they created no effect. Mr. Snowden's early peace had been nipped by the frost.
Thursday, February 24th.—In both Houses the administration of the Military Service Act was again the subject of criticism. From the explanations given by Lord Newton and Mr. Tennant it appears that most of the complaints against the recruiting officers for over-pressure have come from men who were applying for armlets, not for exemption. As Lord Newton put it, a man, if he wants to obtain an armlet, must run the risk of being taken for some kind of service. Mr. Tennant reminded some of his critics, not superfluously, that the object of this Act was to get men to serve.
Lord Derby, fresh from his triumph as Director of Recruiting, is to act as Chairman of the new Joint Committee which will supervise and co-ordinate naval and military aviation. For him, as for that other Ariel, "there's more work." The same is now true of Colonel Lockwood who, since the opening of the Session, has been in a condition of suspended animation. The Kitchen Committee, in the opinion of many Members the most important of all the Committees, had not been set up, and consequently could not elect a Chairman. How Members have lived through more than a week without any visible means of securing subsistence it is not for me to reveal. Suffice it to say that no case of absolute starvation has come to my notice. To-day all is well. The Kitchen Committee is again in being, and "Uncle Mark" has once more been appointed Minister of the Interior (unpaid, except by the gratitude and affection of his fellow-Members). Fresh responsibilities have now been thrust upon him. This afternoon it fell to him, as temporary Leader of the Opposition, to ask the customary question as to next week's business. Having heard the Prime Minister's reply, he sat for a few moments as if lost in thought, calculating, no doubt, by a rapid process of mental arithmetic what the Consolidated Fund Bill, Supplementary Estimates and the Civil Service Vote would amount to in terms of dinners, teas and other light refreshments.
Enraged Tommy (bespattered with mud by sniper's bullet aimed a bit too low). "Put up yer sight, yer careless blighter!"
On a bookseller's stall in Liverpool:—
"The English Nation. A really cheap lot."