XVII
POISONOUS GAS
November, 1917
I am developing into a regular stump orator these days. Of course it is not at all difficult. One has plenty of information about the war, and the more simply this is given the better it seems to me. However, it is all very interesting and I am supplied with the opportunity of meeting hundreds of American men. They are all awfully kind to me. I generally speak at club luncheons and dinners.
One night I had to speak at a splendid dinner given by the neighbourhood club of Bala-Cynwyd, a suburb of Philadelphia. Of many delightful evenings spent in America I think this night was the most enjoyable. My turn came towards the end of the programme. There had been many fine talks by famous Philadelphians as well as by other British officers, and I felt very diffident about saying any thing at all. However, I stood up and saw several hundred cheery men all looking up at me with kindness and encouragement shining from their faces. I told them a few funny stories and said that I liked them an awful lot; that I liked them so much that I wanted them to like my countrymen. I forget exactly what I did say.
A few days afterwards I received a letter from the secretary of the club, which I shall always keep, for it assures me of their friendship and affection.
I do not think that the American people have done their duty by us. When the early Christians were given a big thing they started missions which had for their object the conversion of the heathen. Why has not America realised her responsibility to us? Why hasn't she sent a mission to England, with the object of converting middle-aged and elderly Britons to that attitude of mind, so prevalent here, which makes every American man over thirty desire to help and encourage enthusiastic young men? At the moment, the meeting of American enthusiasm and British conservatism always suggests to my mind the alliance of the Gulf Stream with the Arctic current. There is an awful lot of fog when these two meet and some shipwrecks.
Quite often I talk at Rotary Clubs. Every city or town has a Rotary Club over here. The members consist of one man from each of the leading business houses in the town or city. They meet at lunch once a week and endeavour to learn things from one another. One member generally talks for twenty minutes about his particular business, then an alarm clock goes off; and sometimes an outsider gives an address. I rather love the Rotarians. The milk of human kindness flows very freely, and the members behave to one another like nice people in decent books. At any rate many cordial remarks are made, and it always seems to me that the thought, even if it is an affected one, which produces a decent remark helps to swell the amount of brotherly love in the world. The Rotarians are keen business men and are obviously the survivors of the fittest in the business world.
Sometimes I have spoken for the Red Cross at large public meetings. I even addressed a society affair in the house of a charming Philadelphia lady. This was very interesting. There were about one hundred people present and my host, an adopted uncle, endeavoured to introduce me in a graceful manner with a few well chosen words, but he forgot his lines. At this function one felt one's self to be present at a social gathering described by Thackeray. There were many men and women present with the sweetest and most gracious manners in the world. They were all descendants of the people who lived in Philadelphia before the Revolution, and something of the atmosphere that must have prevailed in a fashionable drawing-room or "Assembly" during those romantic days seemed to be in the air.
Of course my first experience of public speaking was in Bethlehem. It happened at the Eagle Hotel. One of the Vice-Presidents of the Steel Company called me up and said. "Mac, will you give us a short talk at the Red Cross luncheon to-day?" "But yes, Mr. B——, I'll be delighted, though I am no orator."