to go on
with us. You have broken the shell of the old church, and here we are
running about with nowhere to go. You have to make the shelter of a new
church now for us, purged of errors, looking straight to God. The
King of Mankind!--what a wonderful, wonderful phrase that is. It says
everything. Tell us more of him and more. Count me first--not foremost,
but just the little one that runs in first--among your disciples. They
say you are resigning your position in the church. Of course that must
be true. You are coming out of it--what did you call it?--coming out of
the cracked old vessel from which you have poured the living waters. I
called on Lady Ella yesterday. She did not tell me very much; I think
she is a very reserved as well as a very dignified woman, but she said
that you intended to go to London. In London then I suppose you will set
up the first altar to the Divine King. I want to help.

"Dear Bishop and Teacher, I want to help tremendously--with all my heart
and all my soul. I want to be let do things for you." (The "you" was
erased by three or four rapid slashes, and "our King" substituted.)

"I want to be privileged to help build that First Church of the World
Unified under God. It is a dreadful thing to says but, you see, I am
very rich; this dreadful war has made me ever so much richer--steel and
shipping and things--it is my trustees have done it. I am ashamed to be
so rich. I want to give. I want to give and help this great beginning of
yours. I want you to let me help on the temporal side, to make it
easy for you to stand forth and deliver your message, amidst suitable
surroundings and without any horrid worries on account of the sacrifices
you have made. Please do not turn my offering aside. I have never wanted
anything so much in all my life as I want to make this gift. Unless I
can make it I feel that for me there is no salvation! I shall stick with
my loads and loads of stocks and shares and horrid possessions outside
the Needle's Eye. But if I could build a temple for God, and just live
somewhere near it so as to be the poor woman who sweeps out the chapels,
and die perhaps and be buried under its floor! Don't smile at me. I
mean every word of it. Years ago I thought of such a thing. After I had
visited the Certosa di Pavia--do you know it? So beautiful, and those
two still alabaster figures--recumbent. But until now I could never see
my way to any such service. Now I do. I am all afire to do i