You must not suppose the working man is allowed to cast off his debts in the wholesale way in which the thorough-bred, blue-blooded bankrupt does. Not a bit of it. The order made against him is that he shall pay his debts to the extent of so many shillings in the pound at so many shillings a month. If he does not carry out the order there is prison for him for every instalment he fails to pay if the judge so orders, or at the best his order is rescinded and all his creditors are down on him again as before.
But the main drawback to the business is the extortionate fees charged by the Treasury. Here is a poor devil with twenty-five shillings and a wife and family and, let us say, thirty pounds of debt, and the judge gives him an administration order to pay ten shillings in the pound at five shillings a month. The Treasury are at once down on him. Their fees are always calculated, not on the dividend paid, but on the total amount of the debts, and they insist in every case on two shillings in the pound. Thus, in the case of the man with thirty pounds of debt, the Treasury want three pounds money down before the creditors get anything. In 1911 the Treasury took no less than £13,000 in these fees.
In this matter we cannot acquit the law of the offence of grinding the poor. Imagine a wealthy country like this squeezing the insolvent poor out of their weekly pittances instead of helping them to pay their debts. I call it a wicked policy for the State to throw impediments in the way of a working-class man who is struggling out of the back-waters of debt into the fairway of solvency.
Do not let us shut our eyes to what it means, for the Treasury is only our servant and ought to be doing our will, and the responsibility is yours and mine. For we know that every penny of that £13,000 comes out of the mouths of hungry women and children or, at the best, robs them of so many boots and so much clothing.
What fees do the Treasury receive from No. 1512 of 1911 and his like? Two shillings in the pound on the rich man’s £70,000 of debt might enable the Chancellor to treat the poor more leniently. But the rich man pays his entrance fee of ten pounds and is a life member of the Bankruptcy Club. The Treasury never thinks of touching him for a subscription of two shillings in the pound on the amount of his debts. Some day there will come along a Chancellor of the Exchequer who will be a Good Samaritan, and the Treasury will cease to strip the poor debtor of his raiment to the tune of £13,000 a year.
Of course it is very easy to blame a public department and throw ugly words at the lords thereof. One gets into a bad habit of blaming those in high places for the inequalities of things. I wonder if I were Chancellor whether I should get rid of that shameful tax on the poorest of the poor. Perhaps not. After all, the Good Samaritan was speculating with his own oil and investing his own twopence. The oil and the twopence of the Exchequer belong to the public and must be dealt with according to the rules of statecraft.
And there may be some grave national danger beyond my humble ken that makes it necessary for England to dirty her hands with that £13,000.