* December, 1893.
In our last week's article we criticised the attitude of the Churches
towards the working classes, with especial reference to the late
Conference of "representatives of Christian Churches" in the Jerusalem
Chamber. It will be remembered that the Conference was a ridiculous
fiasco. The upshot of it was simply and absolutely nothing. The
Christian gentlemen there assembled could not bring themselves to pass
a resolution in favor of "a living wage" for the workers. Mr. Hugh Price
Hughes, in particular, asserted that no one could define it, and the
discussion was therefore a waste of time. But suppose the question had
been one of "a living wage" for the sky-pilots; would not a minimum
figure have been speedily decided? Thirty shillings a week would have
been laughed at. Two pounds would have been treated as an absurdity. Men
of God, who have to live while they cultivate the Lord's vineyard,
want a more substantial share of the good things of this world. Nothing
satisfies them but the certainty of something very valuable in this
life, as well as the promise of the life that is to come. No doubt is
entertained in the clerical mind as to the laborer being worthy of
his hire. But they give their first attention to the clerical laborer;
partly because they know him most intimately, and have a deep concern
for his secular welfare; and partly because charity begins at home and
looking after one's self is the primary law of Christian prudence.
A burning and a shining light among the Nonconformists of the last
generation was the famous Mr. Binney, a shrewd preacher who published
a book on How to Make the Best of Both Worlds. We believe he combined
precept and practice. At any rate, he expounded a principle which has
always had the devotion of the great bulk of Christian ministers. These
gentry _have_ made the best of both worlds. Most of them have been
comfortably assured of good positions in Kingdom-Come, and most of them
have been comfortably provided for in this land of pilgrimage, this
scene of tribulation, this miserable vale of tears. Come rain or shine,
they have had little cause for complaint. Hard work has rarely brought
them to a premature old age. Famine has never driven them into untimely
graves. Even the worst paid has had a hope of better thing-. There were
fine plums in the profession, which might drop into watering mouths.
What if the curate had little pocket money and a small account at the
tailor's, with a large account at the shoemaker's through excessive
peregrinations on shanks's mare? There was a vicarage, a deanery, a
bishopric in perspective. A fat purse might be dandled some day, and the
well-exercised limbs repose gracefully in a carriage and pair. If the
worst came to the worst, one might marry a patron's daughter, and get
the reversion of the living; or even snap up the ninth daughter of a
bishop, and make sure of some preferment.
Yes, the clericals, taking them altogether, have had a very good "living
wage." After all these centuries, it is high time they began to think
about the comfort of other classes of the community. And yet, after
all, is there not something indecent in their talking about a "living
wage" for the workers? Are they not parasites upon the said workers?
Have they not, also, had ever so many centuries of dominance? Is it
not disgraceful that, at this time of day, there should be any need to
discuss a "living wage" for the workers in a _Christian_ civilisation?
Really, the clericals should not, in this reckless way, invite attention
to their past sins and present shortcomings. If they stand up for
the workers now, it shows that they have not stood up for the workers
before. They have been so many hundreds of years thinking about
it--or rather _not_ thinking about it. It is _interest_--nothing but
_interest_--which informs their new policy. They always find out what
_pays_. Never did they fight a forlorn hope or die for a lost cause.
As the shadow follows the sun, so priests follow the sun of prosperity.
They are the friends of power, whoever wields it: of wealth, whoever
owns it. When they talk about the rights of the people, it means that
they feel the king-times are ending. Byron said they _would_ end, nearly
a hundred years ago. Blood would flow like water, he said, and tears
would fall like rain, but the people would triumph in the end. Yes, and
the end is near; the people _are_ triumphing; and the fact is visible to
the very owls and bats of theology.
But let us return to the "living wage" business. There were several
Bishops at the Jerusalem Chamber meeting, and in view of their incomes
their patronage of the working man is simply disgusting. Pah! An ounce
of civet, good apothecary! The bishops smell to heaven. Whatever they
say is an insult to the miners--because they say it. The "living wage"
of the poorest bishop would keep fifty miners' families; that of the
richest would keep two hundred. "Nay," the bishops say, "we are poorer
than you think." Only the other day, the Archbishop of Canterbury stated
that most of the bishops spent more than they received. Indeed! Then the
age of miracles is _not_ past. By what superhuman power do they make
up the deficiency? We tell the Archbishop that _he lies_. It is not a
polite answer, we admit, but it is a true one; and this is a case where
good plain Saxon is most appropriate. Edward White Benson forgets that
bishops die. Their wills are proved like the wills of other mortals,
and the Probate Office keeps the record. Of course it is barely
possible--that is, it is conceivable--that bishops' executors make false
returns, and pay probate duty on fanciful estates; but the probability
is that they do nothing of the kind. Now some years ago (in 1886) the
Rev. Mercer Davies, formerly chaplain of Westminster Hospital, issued
a pamphlet entitled _The Bishops and their Wealth_, in which he gave a
table of the English and Welsh prelates deceased from 1856 to 1885, with
the amount of personalty proved at their death. Of one bishop he could
find no particulars. It was Samuel Hinds, of Norwich, who resigned as
a disbeliever, and died poor. The thirty-nine others left behind them
collectively the sum of £2,105,000; this being "exclusive of any real
estate they may have possessed, and exclusive also of any sums invested
in policies of Life Assurance, or otherwise settled for the benefit
of their families." Divide the amount of their _mere personalty_ by
thirty-nine, and you have £54,000 apiece. This is how the Bishops spend
more than they receive! One of these days we will go to the trouble and
expense of bringing the list up to date. Meanwhile it may be noted that
there is no falling off in the figures towards 1885. No less than five
bishops died in that year, and they left the following personalities:
--£72,000--£85,000--£29,000--£85,000--£19,000; which more than maintain
the average.
So much for the poor bishops. As for the rest of the clergy, it is
enough to say that the Church they belong to has a total revenue of
about £10,000,000 a year. Probably twice that sum is spent on the
sky-pilots of all denominations, which is more than is received in wages
by all the miners in Great Britain. It is a fair calculation that the
average sky-pilot is six times better paid than the average miner. Yet
the latter works hard in the bowels of the earth to provide real
coals for real consumers, while the former is occupied in open air and
daylight in damping down the imaginary fires of an imaginary hell. It is
easy to see which is the more useful functionary, just as it is easy to
see which is the better paid. Let us hope that the miners, and all other
workers, will lay these facts to heart, and act accordingly. There are
too many drones in England, living on the common produce of labor. The
number of them should be diminished, and a beginning should be made with
the mystery men. Were the great Black Army disbanded, and turned into
the ranks of productive industry, the evils of society would begin to
disappear; for those evils are chiefly the result of too much energy and
attention being devoted to the problematical next life, and too little
to the real interests of our earthly existence. We should also be spared
the wretched spectacle of the well-paid drones of theology maundering
over the question of a "living wage" for the honest men who do the
laborious work of the world.