rated London News and the
Kelmscott Chaucer is silly: they prefer the News. The difference
between a stockbroker's cheap and dirty starched white shirt and collar
and the comparatively costly and carefully dyed blue shirt of William
Morris is a difference so disgraceful to Morris in their eyes that if
they fought on the subject at all, they would fight in defence of the
starch. "Cease to be slaves, in order that you may become cranks" is
not a very inspiring call to arms; nor is it really improved by
substituting saints for cranks. Both terms denote men of genius; and
the common man does not want to live the life of a man of genius: he
would much rather live the life of a pet collie if that were the only
alternative. But he does want more money. Whatever else he may be vague
about, he is clear about that. He may or may not prefer Major Barbara
to the Drury Lane pantomime; but he always prefers five hundred pounds
to five hundred shillings.

Now to deplore this preference as sordid, and teach children that it is
sinful to desire money, is to strain towards the extreme possible limit
of impudence in lying, and corruption in hypocrisy. The universal
regard for money is the one hopeful fact in our civilization, the one
sound spot in our social conscience. Money is the most important thing
in the world. It represents health, strength, honor, generosity and
beauty as conspicuously and undeniably as the want of it represents
illness, weakness, disgrace, meanness and ugliness. Not the least of
its virtues is that it destroys base people as certainly as it
fortifies and dignifies noble people. It is only when it is cheapened
to worthlessness for some, and made impossibly dear to others, that it
becomes a curse. In short, it is a curse only in such foolish social
conditions that life itself is a curse. For the two things are
inseparable: money is the counter that enables life to be distributed
socially: it is life as truly as sovereigns and bank notes are money.
The first duty of every citizen is to insist on having money on
reasonable terms; and this demand is not complied with by giving four
men three shillings each for ten or twelve hours' drudgery and one man
a thousand pounds for nothing. The crying need of the nation is not for
better morals, cheaper bread, temperance, liberty, culture, redemption
of fallen sisters and erring brothers, nor the grace, love and
fellowship of the Trinity, but simply for enough money. And the e