Mr. Winston Churchill has been appointed Minister of Munitions.  Many reasons have been assigned for his reinclusion in the Ministry.  Some say that it was done to muzzle Mr. MacCallum Scott, hitherto one of the most pertinacious of questionists, who, as Mr. Churchill’s private secretary, is now debarred by Parliamentary etiquette from the exercise of these inquisitorial functions.  Others say it was done to muzzle Mr. Churchill.  Contrary to expectation, Mr. Churchill has succeeded in piloting the Munitions of War Bill through its remaining stages in double quick time.  Its progress was accelerated by his willingness to abolish the leaving certificate, which a workman hitherto had to procure before changing one job for another.  Having had unequalled experience in this respect, he is convinced that the leaving certificate is a useless formality.

Food stocks going up, thanks to the energy of the farmers and the economy of consumers; German submarines going down, thanks to the Navy; Russia recovering herself; Britain and France advancing hand in hand on the Western Front, and our enemies fumbling for peace—­that was the gist of the message with which the Prime Minister sped the parting Commons.  “I have resigned,” Mr. Kennedy Jones tells us, “because there is no further need for my services.”  Several politicians are of opinion that this was not a valid reason.  A boy of eighteen recently told a Stratford magistrate that he had given up his job because he only got twenty-five shillings a week.  The question of wages is becoming acute in Germany too, and it is announced that all salaries in the Diplomatic Service have been reduced.  We always said that frightfulness didn’t really pay.

September, 1917.

Thanks to the collapse of the Russian armies and “fraternisation,” Germany has occupied Riga.  But her chief exploits of late must be looked for outside the sphere of military operations.  She has added a new phrase to the vocabulary of frightfulness, spurlos versenkt in the instructions to her submarine commanders for dealing with neutral merchantmen.  As for the position into which Sweden has been lured by allowing her diplomatic agents to assist Germany’s secret service, Mr. Punch would hardly go the length of saying that it justifies the revision of the National Anthem so as to read, “Confound their Scandi-knavish tricks.”  But he finds it hard to accept Sweden’s professions of official rectitude, and so does President Wilson.

The German Press accuses the United States of having stolen the cipher key of the Luxburg dispatches.  It is this sort of thing that is gradually convincing Germany that it is beneath her dignity to fight with a nation like America.  And the growing conviction in the United States that there can be no peace with the Hohenzollerns only tends to fortify this view in Court circles.  The Kaiser’s protestations of his love for his people become more strident every day.