LETTERS TO THE EDITOR.
MIL LLOYD GEORGE AND THE "SPECTATOR."
MO THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR.'] Sin,—I enclose a verbatim report made by me of the portion of Mr. Lloyd George's speech at. Crediton on October 22nd which dealt with the Spectator. It is considerably fuller than the reports published in the Press, and will probably be of interest to your readers.—I am, Sir, Sze., S. J. SHAPLEY.
'Your chairman (Mr. G. Lambert, M.P.) has been good enough to refer to something I said at the City Temple on Monday when I dwelt upon the great contrast in this country between the extravagance of wealth—and the extravagance very of ten of indolent wealth—and the abject suffering of the multitude of even indus- trious people. On the whole I have no reason to complain of the reception which was accorded to that speech, not even in the Tory Press. I think their criticisms have been quite fair, quite good natured, and I dare say may be, in some particular, just. They called my attention to the fact that I had overlooked one or two truths which I might have touched upon. That zany be, but you cannot dwell upon everything in an hour's speech. I have to make one exception about what I said in regard to the Tory Press. I find to-day an exceedingly bitter attack in a newspaper called the Spectator. (A. voice Give it to 'em r') The Spectator is edited at present by an exceedingly pretentious, pompous, and futile person. (laughter), and I have just one or two words to say about the article, or rather about the couple of articles, which he is good enough to devote to me. He is the sort of person who, if you do not accept as gospel the ill-informed platitudes which he preaches, instantly makes personal, offensive, and stupid attacks upon you. Well, now, I recollect very well he predicted at the beginning of this year that I should have a deficit of sixteen millions for this year. In fact, he proved it to demonstration. (Laughter.) When it turned out that so far from having a deficit of sixteen millions, I had a substantial surplus, he turned round and abused me, and said that proved I was a most incompetent financier. (Laughter.) Well, now, what is hie complaint? His complaint is that when I drew the contrast between wanton wealth and abject poverty that that had been done before many a time. He said that was nothing new; it was commonplace. Supposing it is not new, what harm is there in repeating it? Is no one to be allowed to utter commonplaces except the editor of the Spectator? I admit that few of us have the power of render- ing a commonplace harmless by making it uninteresting, such as he has got. (Laughter.) But what about the complaint which he snakes? First of all that I repeat what is already so well known. It must be repeated until there is some redress. (Cheers.) Has he not repeated his lectures on thrift to the work- ing classes? He published a series of articles to working men, I think, a year or two ago, a series of rather twaddly articles. He published theta afterwards in the form of a book, a book, I can assure you, that would have been laughed into circulation had not it been so unutterably dull. (Laughter.) Well, now, he repeats : 'Has no one taught thrift to the working men before?' It is an old story, but he repeats it. Why does he repeat it in the "Spectator"? The "Spectator" is not a sort of paper that the work- ing man takes in as a rule. It would be rather hard, I think, on a working man, after a week of arduous toil, that he should after- wards have to read the "Spectator." Flesh and blood could not stand it. (Laughter.) It would create a revolution in England (laughter), but I believe there are rich people in the country who read it. Why, therefore, does he not lecture the class of people who take his paper in ? He admits all I say about the wanton extravagance and the prodigality of the idle rich. Why doesn't he preach sermons to them ? That is not the way to sell the Spectator. (Laughter.) There is a certain class of rich man who always delights in hearing sermons preached to the working classes on the virtue of saving for a rainy day. That is the sort of sermon after which be goes home and says: heard a beautiful sermon to-day, so full of common- sense. Quite right, absolutely right.' As a rule I have heard such sermons preached from pulpits reared and supported by rich congregations. I have read them myself in newspapers taken in by wealthy men, and I am the last man to deprecate thrift. Had I not had thrifty parents I would never have had a start in life given me ; but when I see a gentleman like this taunting the working classes because they spend money on football matches, and upon going to music-halls, well, I say it is incredibly mean ; coming from him, incredibly mean. (Cheers.) I come front a country, and your country is pretty much of the same kind, where there is a great Puritanic strain, and the music-hall is not exceedingly popular; but let ens say one thing for music- halls. I met the other day a great brewer, and he was talking to me about the way in which drink was going down in this country. (Hear, hear.) Let me tell you he was not talking about it as a man who deplored it; not at all. Let me say that to his credit. When a man rises above any self-interest of that kind, I am the first man to recognise it. He welcomed this fact. He was a man who knew some of the great cities of Lancashire very well. He attributed it largely to the popularisation and improvement of the music-halls in that county. Very well, what I should like to say to the gentleman who edits this organ of the wealthier class is : There are working men who in a whole life- time will not spend as much in football matches and music-halls together as many a rich man would spend on a single night's entertainment. If he denounces the workman for the one, has he not got a word to say about the other ? (Cheers.) Now, that is all I claim. He asks me to-clay what right have I to talk as I did at the City Temple. I have the right that every man in a free country has to discuss the social con- ditions of the time, and to express his opinion frankly and fearlessly about them. (Cheers.) But, Mr. Chairman, I claim another right. I claim to have this right to discuss them. For the first, and naturally the most impressionable, time of my course I lived the life of the working classes. (Cheers.) I know their worries, their anxieties, their straits, and the editor of the Spectator taunts me that I am above them now. (Laughter.) It is true by a life of very hard work I have managed to put myself above those anxieties,—through no merit of my own, as he reminds me, but entirely through the evil genius which has always helped me. (Laughter.) But being where I am, it is not merely my right, it is my duty not to forget the men and women of my own class who are still struggling with unbroken heroism to overcome the difficulties which once haunted my home. (Cheers.) That duty I mean to discharge to the end, God helping me. (Cheers.)" [For the convenience of our readers, we have italicised those portions of the speech which were omitted in the reports published in the Press on Sunday and Monday.—Ea. Spectator.]
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