A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
IHAVE been struck by various letters and declarations by medical men (in connexion with the National Health Servicz proposals) who seem to consider it a kind of moral degradation to work for a salary. Personally, I have a certain regard for salaries, having never worked for anything else, but that is neither here nor there. What does strike one is the fact that practically every discovery of importance in the recent history of the advancement of medicine has come from men living on fixed salaries. Sir Frederick Banting's discovery of insulin was made possible by a fixed salary. Dr. Gye's researches into cancer were based on a salary. Sir Henry Dale, distinguished both as physician and as surgeon, and Nobel prizeman for medicine, has never, so far as I can discover, been paid except by salary. Of course, these gentlemen and others like them may have suffered morally in consequence—I have not investigated that aspect of their careers—but, on the face of it, their record supports the theory that it is not impossible to benefit humanity for a fixed remuneration. I should have supposed that what is possible for them might be possible for general practitioners too—assuming, of course, that the remuneration is reasonable.
It is satisfactory in one way that Mr. Eden is to relinquish neither the Foreign Office nor the leadership of the House of Commons, f6r in neither position can he be adequately replaced. But that he should have consented to carry on for the moment does not solve the problem of how one man is to be made physically capable of doing two or three men's work. The Foreign Office should be a full-time job ; so should the leadership of the House, very nearly, when the House is sitting. The War Cabinet and the Defence Committee between them make up the total to at least 250 per cent. of an average Minister's time and strength. If Mr. Eden goes on till he cracks there will be two posts to be filled, perhaps three. * *
M. Gabriel Hanotaux's death at 90 carries the mind back to a distant past, for he was Foreign Minister of France from 1894— .A/hen Lord Kimberley ..was Foreign Minister here—to 1898, when some people thought war was coming over the clash between Major Marchand and Lord Kitchener at Fashoda. M. Hanotaux was a better historian than politician, and in the latter role he had some strange encounters. At Geneva in the early 'twenties the French took it into their heads to oppose various measures for countering the White Slave TraffiC, and M. Hanotaux was their mouthpiece. Lord Balfour was the head of the British delegation. His interest in the subject was approximately nil, but he liked a good argument and he didn't very much like the French—just then, at any rate. So he led for the defence himself, and the fate of M. Hanotaux was the fate of Major Marchand.
Listeners to the Prime Minister's last broadcast were struck by the detailed interest he showed in the plans for emergency houses after the war. His concern with such things is no new growth. Happening this week to pick up again those too-little-known volumes H. H. A., Letters from Lord Oxford to a Friend, I came on the following entry, referring to the marriage of the present King at Westminster Abbey in April, 1923: "The ennui of the long waits was relieved for me by being next to Winston, who was in his best form and really amusing. Between two fugues (or whatever they are called) on the organ he expounded to me his housing policy : 'Build the house round the wife and mother ; let her always have water on .the boil ; make her the central factor, the dominating condition of the situation, &c., &c.'" Inspired, no doubt, by the spectacle of two young people about to set up housekeeping.
This title business is a queer thing. As I read of the vicissi- tudes through which Common Wealth, to judge from the reports of its Easter conference, seems to be passing, I wondered whether it would have got as far as it has if its founder had not happened to be a baronet. It is not because of mere snobbery that titles make a difference ; it is rather that there is something for people to catch hold of. There are millions of Misters about, but only a few thousand Sirs, and the Sirs tend to stick out. A friend of mine who accepted a knighthood some years ago a little to my surprise (for he is a democrat and an egalitarian through and through) told me that the reason was that in writing and speaking. of which he did a good deal, he knew he would be more read and more listened to if he had a Sir before his name, and as he had a message which he wanted to get across he was glad to take
advantage of any aid in that process. That seems quite reasonable, though why a knighthood should wing a man's words, considering how some knighthoods are bestowed, is another matter.
* * *
Some coincidences are odd, some very odd. This one seems to me very odd. One evening, -not long ago, Professor X picked up his Pepys and began reading at random. At 10.30, still reading, he tuned in his wireless for "English News from Berlin "—Haw-Hav,. —which it sometimes amused him to listen to. In his Pepys, as Berlin started, he was reading the entry for March 31st, 1661: "Then home to dinner, where W. Joyce came, and he still atalking, impertinent fellow." Simultaneously the voice from Berlin announced: "You are about . to hear 'Views on the News,' by William Joyce."
* * * * To that serviceable table of comparisons ("drunk as a lord.'' "bald as a coot," &c.) can now be added "fierce as a fishmonger." Fish was to arrive in heavy supply for Easter ; the Ministry of Food asked, or directed, fishmongers to keep open on Good Friday
to dispose of it. They kept open—with bare slabs. Bare slahc again on Saturday. By Tuesday there was quite a lot of fish. The fishmongers, livid as their own frozen fillets, were told blandly t'Y the Ministry, "It took a little longer coming than we thought."
* * * * Second Front Notes The telephone bell at- ro, Downing Street rang. The private secretary knocked at the Prime Minister's door. "There's some- one on the 'phone, Sir, who wants to speak to you urgently. He won't say who he is or what his business is or where he is speak- ing from." "I don't talk to people who don't say who they are or what their business is." Interval. Private secretary, returning:
"He says, Sir, that his name is Stalin. He's speaking from Cala:s and he wants to know where you think of meeting him."
(To the plaints of people who say they have heard this before I am respectfully indifferent ; a lot of other people haven't.)
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