A SPECTATOR 'S NOTEBOOK
IT is a pity that suspicion—involving an indomitable resolve to discover hidden motives behind simple facts—figures so largely among certain schools of journalists in this country. Take the case of Sir Cecil Hurst, who has just resigned the chairmanship of the War Crimes Commission on grounds of health. An announce- ment to that effect was made and (as I have the best of reasons for knowing) the health part of it happened to be true. Sir Cecil is utterly 'overstrained and his doctor's orders were imperative. Yes, but who would be simple enough to believe that? No illnesses are real illnesses. There is always something behind them. In this case it must be a disagreement with the Government—always to be welcomed in any connexion. The subject Hitler. The War Crimes Commission want him tried, the Government doesn't. Whatever views the Commission may hold on that subject (on which I have no knowledge) they certainly had nothing to do with the chairman's resignation. As to Hitler, the Government, I suggest, is unquestionably right. The chief criminals, Hitler, Himmler, Goering, Goebbels, if they are secured by one or other of the Allies should be dealt with summarily. All that is needed is evidence of identification. Once be sure that the man you have got is really Hitler, that is all you need to know. But to return to the War Crimes Commission. Another highly suspicious fact was the resignation of M. Erik Colban, the Norwegian member of the Commission, on top of Sir Cecil Hurst's. That obviously clinched it. Well it might if M. Colban's resignation had anything to do with Sir Cecil's, or with Hitler, or with the British Government. But it hadn't. It is disappointing, of course, that that should be the prosaic fact, but it is.
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I see three women are on the jury in the Old Bailey trial of a woman and a soldier charged with murdering a taxi-driver with a cleft chin. I don't know why the fact should be thought worthy of record, for we are most of us ready to assume that for such purposes as jury service both men and women are just human beings and should be judged on their individual merits. The same applies to higher ranges of the law (if jury-service can be described as a range of the law at all). Women can be, and now are, barris- ters and I imagine there is no reason why one of them should not one day take silk. Nor, so far as I know, is there anything to pre- vent the appointment of a woman as a Stipendiary Magistrate or a High Court Judge. Given the right woman, it might be a good thing. But no addiction to feminism, or surrender to the attrac- tion of noveltys could justify the appointment of a woman to any such office merely because she was a woman. Once the equality of the sexes is admitted the golden rule must be, the best person for the job, whether male or female. I daresay the danger of departure from that rule is not great, but its importance is worth emphasising.
* * * * William Archer once wrote a book called Let Youth But Know. If I had time I should write an exhortation on Let Youth But Serve. What, it will be asked at once, is youth doing' today but serve— everywhere, in every kind of capacity? I knpw, but I am really thinking of post-war days. One field of service where youth is needed badly is in manning dozens or scores of those voluntary societies which do invaluable work in the field of charity, social reform, preservation of amenities, culture and education and any amount else. I heard this week of one of the most valuable of these
where the three active figures are aged 87, 75.and 71 respectively. There is none of the lethargy of age about their work, but the remark of one of them, " we want young men " (or for that matter
I suppose, young women), came from the heart. I hope this, and a great many other like societies, will get them.
* * Theoretically I have no more to say about Malta, for towards the £2,000 required, £2,150 has so far been subscribed, and though any belated donations will be gratefully accepted—all the money can certainly be well spent—the fund is to all intents and purposes wound up. The Bishop of Gibraltar, at whose request responsi- bility for the Shrine of Remembrance was assumed here, is at pre- sent travelling in his extensive diocese (which covers most of the Mediterranean area). When he returns to England next month I hope to be able to give—or better, arrange for him to give—full particulars about the plans for the Shrine. * * * * A good many people I find (particularly soldiers back from the Western Front) share- my doubts as to the wisdom of postponing the enthronement of the Archbishop of Canterbury till April because Canterbury Cathedral has no central heating. The Laud com- memoration service at St: Paul's last week took place, I believe, in an unheated cathedral. Sunday afternoon concerts in apparently unheated theatres are crowded out. And a great many people in
patched-up houses are feeling the draught quite a lot. I can't
help thinking a Church concerned with identifying itself with the people would risk it.
* * * * The origin of " spitchered " gets pushed back week by week— from this war to the last war, and now to the date of the Boer War. It is shifted, moreover, a long way geographically. For this reaches
me: "In 19oo and thereabouts I was a working miner on the West Coast of Tasmania. We drilled by hand, and occasionally the drill
would jam in the hole. It was then said to be spitchered ' or `fitchered.' " The suggestion is that Cornish miners took the word to the Antipodes. But where did they find it? * * * * The statistics given by the Prime Minister on Tuesday show bow much lighter casualties have so far been in this war than in the last. That war lasted for four and a quarter years and it cost the British Empire 947,203 in killed. This war had lasted five years and a quarter by the end of last November, and the total of killed then was 282,162. Wounded were 2,121,906 and 386,374 respectively. * * * * " They are evacuating the Peloponnesus (the great island which lies south-west of Athens)."—News Chronicle.
Well, it is certainly great, it is certainly south-west of Athens, and I suppose you could argue that the Corinth Canal makes it an island. But unfortunately the bridge -over the canal makes it a peninsula again.
* * * In a casual discussion on longevity a day or two ago someone mentioned that the father of the present Earl of Stradbroke rode at the head of his company at the Battle of Vittoria, which took place in 1813. It seemed hardly credible, but investigation shows it to be true. Lord Stradbroke himself is eighty-two. The late earl
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