“That is impossible: because Her Founder promised to be with Her always even unto the end of the world.”
“God helps those who help themselves—”
“But not those who help themselves out of other people’s pockets.”
“The workman is worthy of his hire—”
“Perfectly. But he accepts the wage: he does not dictate it. The builder of London’s new concert-hall in Denambrose Avenue did not let his masons domineer. He offered work at a certain wage. They took it, or left it. You confuse the functions of the buyer with those of the seller, as the clergy always do. Besides, as you seem fond of Scripture, ‘provide neither gold nor silver nor brass in your purses,’ and ‘take no thought for the morrow—’ ”
“This is simply Tolstoy!”
“No. We never have read a line of Tolstoy. We studiously avoid doing so. We give you the commands of Christ Himself as reported by St. Matthew. Lord Cardinal, you are all wrong—”
“Your Holiness speaks as though You were not one of us.”
“Oh no! The head looks down at the hands; and says ‘Your knuckles and your nails are dirty.’ ”
The cardinal really was angry. Hadrian paused: fixed him with a taming look: and continued “Is it right or even desirable that the clergy should engage in trade—actually engage in trade? Look at your ‘Catholic Directory’; and see the advertisement of a priest who, with archiepiscopal sanction, is prepared to pay bank interest on investments, in plain words to borrow money upon usury in direct contravention of St. Luke’s statement of The Lord’s words on this subject. Look at the Catholic Hour; and see the advertisement of a priest who actually trades as a tobacconist. Look in the precincts of your churches; and see the tables of the Fenian-literature-sellers and the seats of them that sell tickets for stage-plays and bazaars where palmistry is practiced—”
“I merely interrupt to remind Your Holiness that Your august predecessor traded as a fisherman.”
“Very neat,” the Pope applauded, enjoying the retort: “but not neat enough. A fisherman’s trade is an open-air trade, and a healthy trade, by the way: but—did Our predecessor St. Peter trade as a fisherman after He had entered upon the work of the apostolature? We think not. No, Lord Cardinal, the clergy attempt too much. They might be excellent priests. As tradesmen, variety-entertainers, entrepreneurs, they are failures. As a combination, they are catastrophes. These two things must be kept apart, the clerical and the secular, God and Mammon. The difference must be emphasized. By attempts at compromise, the clergy fail in both. As priests, they are mocked: and as for their penny-farthing peddling—”
“But Holy Father, do think for one minute. What are the clergy to live on?”
“The freewill offerings of the faithful; and one must keep the other.”
“But suppose the faithful do not give freewill offerings?”
“Then starve and go to Heaven, as Ruskin says. That is what We are going to do, if possible.”
“How are we to build our churches?”
“Don’t build them, unless you have the means freely given. Avoid beggary. That way you sicken the faithful—you prevent generosity—”
“How shall we keep up those we have? For example, the cathedral—”
“Yes, the cathedral—a futile monument of one vain man’s desire for notoriety. How many lives has it ruined? One, at least, We know. How many evil passions has it inspired?—the passion for advertisement by means of the farthing journalist, the critical passion which is destroying our creative faculty, the passions of envy and covetousness, the passion of competition, the passion of derision—for you know that the world is mocking the ugly veneered pretentious monstrosity now. Better that it never had been. As it is, and in regard to the churches which exist, you must do what you can. If the faithful freely give you enough, then let them stand. If not, you must let them go. England never will lack altars. In any case, encumber yourselves with no more unpaid-for buildings. Accept what is given: but ask for nothing and suggest nothing. Lord Cardinal, the clergy do not act as though they trusted the Divine Disposer of Events. They mean well: but their whole aim and object seems to be to serve God by conciliating Mammon. There is nothing more criminally futile. Instead of winning England’s admiration, you secure Her scornful toleration. Instead of consolidating the faithful, multitudes have become disaffected, and multitudes leave you day by day. Instead of improving the clerical character, (and, by consequence, the character of all who look to the clergy for example,) the clergy ever more and more assimilate themselves to the laity. The clergy should cultivate the virtues, not the vices, of humanity. Not one of us can tell which of our actions is important or unimportant. By a thoughtless word or deed, we may lead-astray a brother for whom Christ died. That is what is to be feared from your worldly clergy. Teach them that magna ars which St. Thomas of Aquino says est conversari Jesu. Teach them to rise above the world.”
“Surely, Holy Father, they do.”
“Some members of the clergy do, no doubt. We never met them. The tone of the clergy is distinctly worldly. Here is an illustration from your own newspaper. The very first thing which The Slab thinks worthy of note is ‘How Monsignor Cateran signally vindicated his honour and suitably punished his traducer, the proprietor of “The Fatherland.” The terms of the apology which Sir Frederick Smithers has had to publish in his own journal are set forth as a warning to evildoers.’ It is on p. 397. You know the particulars?”
“I have read them.”
“You cannot approve of the savage triumph of the letter on p. 416, in which Monsignor Cateran describes his victory: you cannot approve of the sneer at his enemy who ‘could not be punished by damages—he has no means to pay,’ or the gibe at the freemasonry of the libeller, or the vicious malignant spite of the whole disgraceful
