We laugh at things in Germany that ought to terrify us.  We say, “Look at the way they are making their bread—­out of potatoes, ha, ha!” Aye, that potato-bread spirit is something which is more to dread than to mock at.  I fear that more than I do even von Hindenburg’s strategy, efficient as it may be.  That is the spirit in which a country should meet a great emergency, and instead of mocking at it we ought to emulate it.  I believe we are just as imbued with the spirit as Germany is, but we want it evoked. [Cheers.] The average Briton is too shy to be a hero until he is asked.  The British temper is one of never wasting heroism on needless display, but there is plenty of it for the need.  There is nothing Britishers would not give up for the honor of their country or for the cause of freedom.  Indulgences, comforts, even the necessities of life they would willingly surrender.  Why, there are two millions of them at this hour who have willingly tendered their lives for their country.  What more could they do?  If the absorption of all our engineering resources is demanded, no British citizen will grudge his share of inconvenience.

But what about those more immediately concerned in that kind of work?  Here I am approaching something which is very difficult to talk about—­I mean the employers and workmen.  I must speak out quite plainly; nothing else is of the slightest use.  For one reason or another we are not getting all the assistance we have the right to expect from our workers.  Disputes, industrial disputes, are inevitable; and when you have a good deal of stress and strain, men’s nerves are not at their best.  I think I can say I always preserve my temper in these days—­I hope my wife won’t give me away—­[laughter]—­and I have no doubt that the spirit of unrest creeps into the relations between employer and workmen.  Some differences of opinion are quite inevitable, but we cannot afford them now; and, above all, we cannot resort to the usual method of settling them.

I suppose I have settled more labor disputes than any man in this hall, and, although those who only know me slightly may be surprised to hear me say it, the thing that you need most is patience.  If I were to give a motto to a man who is going to a conference between employers and workmen I would say:  “Take your time; don’t hurry.  It will come around with patience and tact and temper.”  But you know we cannot afford those leisurely methods now.  Time is victory, [cheers,] and while employers and workmen on the Clyde have been spending time in disputing over a fraction, and when a week-end, ten days, and a fortnight of work which is absolutely necessary for the defense of the country has been set aside, I say here solemnly that it is intolerable that the life of Britain should be imperiled for the matter of a farthing an hour.