‘The real capital of the world is Brains,’ he said; ‘and to carry out the work which they devise, the labourer of all degrees is as necessary as the man with money.’
‘Hear, hear!’ cried a grim-visaged fellow who was leaving Philip’s service; ‘and, consequently, the labourer ought to have share and share alike in the profits with the money-man.’
‘Undoubtedly; and he should, likewise, take his share in the losses,’ was Philip’s reply; and he endeavoured to explain his projected scheme of the regulation of wages by results.
But this was not easy to understand. So long as he talked of sharing profits, the thing was clear enough; but when it came to be a question of also sharing losses, the majority could not see it. Philip was impatient of their stubborn refusal to believe in what was so plain and simple to him—that when a man was paid for what he produced he would be the gainer or loser according to the degree of his industry.
However, Philip persevered eagerly with his scheme, and in his character of honest buyer of labour he met with many surprises.
Work was scamped: he detected it, and dismissed the scampers. They went to join the clamorous crowd of incompetent or lazy workmen who cry that they only want work, but do not add to the cry that they want it on their own terms.
The few real workers who remained became disheartened because they were so few, and some of them were frightened by vicious crowds outside. They had wives and families dependent on them; but they must obey the inexorable majority, although in doing so they would have to accept charity or starvation. They accepted the charity, and clamoured more loudly than ever against the tyranny of capital which left them no other alternative. They loafed about public-houses, drank beer, discussed their grievances, whilst their wives went out charing or washing. And they called themselves over their pewter pots the ill-used, down-trodden people of England!
‘I wish you could get rid of all that sham,’ Philip said, irritated at last with himself as much as with the men. ‘So long as you are mean enough to live upon the earnings of your wives, and what you can borrow or obtain from charity, and thus supported, refuse to work unless the terms and the nature of your work be exactly what you choose to accept, you will never have the right to call yourselves honest sellers of labour. I want you to understand me. I say that if a man wants work, he should be ready to take up any job that is offered him, whether it is in his line or not. The nature of the work is of no consequence so long as a man can do it, for all work is honourable. What is of consequence is that a man should be independent of the parish and the earnings of his wife. I say, here is work; come and do it: you shall not only have payment for what you do, but a share in whatever extra profit it may produce.’
That speech settled the whole affair so far as the men were concerned. All, except some half-dozen, left him, and filled their haunts with outcries against the new monopolist who wanted them actually to produce so much work for so much pay. Meanwhile, they got on comfortably enough with the earnings of their wives and the parish loaves.
‘God forbid that we should call such creatures workmen!’ cried Philip in his desperation; ‘but the country is crowded with them—a disgrace as much to legislation as to human nature. Let us see how we can do without them.’