oor friends; but they were
so good about it, and I loved being with them.

The lecture was rather a red-letter occasion for me, everyone praising,
the Press very attentive, etc., etc. The audience promised well for
future things, and the emotion that was stirred nearly bowled myself
over. In some of the hushes that came one could hear men crying. The
Scott Gattys and a few of my own friends came to "stand by," and we all
drove down to Erith in motor-cars, and returned to supper with the
Vickers at 10.30.

The next day old Vickers sent for me and asked me to name my own price
for my lectures, but I couldn't mix money up with the message, so I
refused all pay, and feel happy that I did so. I can't, and won't,
profit by this war. I'd rather lose--I am losing--but that doesn't
matter. Nothing matters much now. The former things are swept away, and
all the old barriers are disappearing. Our old gods of possession and
wealth are crumbling, and class distinctions don't count, and even life
and death are pretty much the same thing.

The Jews say the Messiah will come after the war. I think He is here
already--but on a cross as of yore!

I went up to Glasgow to make arrangements there, and my task wasn't an
easy one. Somehow I knew that I must speak, that I must arouse slackers,
and tell rotters about what is going on. One goes forth (led in a way),
and only then does one realise that one is going in unasked to
ship-building yards and munition sheds and docks, and that one is quite
a small woman, alone, and up against a big thing.

Always the answer I got was the same: "The men are not working; forty
per cent. are slackers. The output of shells is not what it ought to be,
but they _won't_ listen!"

In the face of this I arranged seven meetings in seven days, to take
place early in August, and then I went back to give my lecture in the
Queen's Hall, London. I took the large Hall, because if one has a
message to deliver one had better deliver it to as many people as
possible. It was rather a breathless undertaking, but people turned up
splendidly, and I had a full house. Sir F. Lloyd gave me the band of the
Coldstream Guards, and things went with a good swing.

I am still wondering how I did it. The whole "campaign" has already got
rather an unreal atmosphere about it, and often, after crowded meetings,
I have come home and lain in the dark and have seen nothing but a sea of
faces, and eyes all turned my way. It has been a