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<h2> THE PARSONS' LIVING WAGE. * </h2>
<p>* December, 1893.<br/></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 <i>have</i> 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.</p>
<p>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 <i>Christian</i> 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 <i>not</i> thinking
about it. It is <i>interest</i>—nothing but <i>interest</i>—which
informs their new policy. They always find out what <i>pays</i>. 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 <i>would</i> 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
<i>are</i> triumphing; and the fact is visible to the very owls and bats
of theology.</p>
<p>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 <i>not</i> past. By what superhuman power do they make up the
deficiency? We tell the Archbishop that <i>he lies</i>. 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 <i>The Bishops and their Wealth</i>, 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 <i>mere personalty</i> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
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