`It's an old sayin' and a true one,' chimed in the man on the upturned pail.`Parsons and publicans is the worst enemies the workin' man ever 'ad.There may be SOME good 'uns, but they're few and far between.'
`If I could only get a job like the Harchbishop of Canterbury,' said Philpot, solemnly, `I'd leave this firm.'
`So would I,' said Harlow, `if I was the Harchbishop of Canterbury, I'd take my pot and brushes down the office and shy 'em through the bloody winder and tell ole Misery to go to 'ell.'
`Religion is a thing that don't trouble ME much,' remarked Newman;`and as for what happens to you after death, it's a thing I believe in leavin' till you comes to it - there's no sense in meetin' trouble 'arfway.All the things they tells us may be true or they may not, but it takes me all my time to look after THIS world.I don't believe I've been to church more than arf a dozen times since I've been married - that's over fifteen years ago now - and then it's been when the kids 'ave been christened.The old woman goes sometimes and of course the young 'uns goes; you've got to tell 'em something or other, and they might as well learn what they teaches at the Sunday School as anything else.'
A general murmur of approval greeted this.It seemed to be the almost unanimous opinion, that, whether it were true or not, `religion' was a nice thing to teach children.
`I've not been even once since I was married,' said Harlow, `and Isometimes wish to Christ I 'adn't gorn then.'
`I don't see as it matters a dam wot a man believes,' said Philpot, `as long as you don't do no 'arm to nobody.If you see a poor b--r wot's down on 'is luck, give 'im a 'elpin' 'and.Even if you ain't got no money you can say a kind word.If a man does 'is work and looks arter 'is 'ome and 'is young 'uns, and does a good turn to a fellow creature when 'e can, I reckon 'e stands as much chance of getting into 'eaven - if there IS sich a place - as some of there 'ere Bible-busters, whether 'e ever goes to church or chapel or not.'
These sentiments were echoed by everyone with the solitary exception of Slyme, who said that Philpot would find out his mistake after he was dead, when he would have to stand before the Great White Throne for judgement!
`And at the Last Day, when yer sees the moon turned inter Blood, you'll be cryin' hout for the mountings and the rocks to fall on yer and 'ide yer from the wrath of the Lamb!'
The others laughed derisively.
`I'm a Bush Baptist meself,' remarked the man on the upturned pail.
This individual, Dick Wantley by name, was of what is usually termed a `rugged' cast of countenance.He reminded one strongly of an ancient gargoyle, or a dragon.
Most of the hands had by now lit their pipes, but there were a few who preferred chewing their tobacco.As they smoked or chewed they expectorated upon the floor or into the fire.Wantley was one of those who preferred chewing and he had been spitting upon the floor to such an extent that he was by this time partly surrounded by a kind of semicircular moat of dark brown spittle.
`I'm a Bush Baptist!' he shouted across the moat, `and you all knows wot that is.'
This confession of faith caused a fresh outburst of hilarity, because of course everyone knew what a Bush Baptist was.
`If 'evven's goin' to be full of sich b--r's as Hunter,' observed Eaton, `I think I'd rather go to the other place.'
`If ever ole Misery DOES get into 'eaven,' said Philpot, `'e won't stop there very long.I reckon 'e'll be chucked out of it before 'e's been there a week, because 'e's sure to start pinchin' the jewels out of the other saints' crowns.'
`Well, if they won't 'ave 'im in 'eaven, I'm sure I don't know wot's to become of 'im,' said Harlow with pretended concern, `because Idon't believe 'e'd be allowed into 'ell, now.'
`Why not?' demanded Bundy.`I should think it's just the bloody place for sich b--r's as 'im.'
`So it used to be at one time o' day, but they've changed all that now.They've 'ad a revolution down there: deposed the Devil, elected a parson as President, and started puttin' the fire out.'
`From what I hears of it,' continued Harlow when the laughter had ceased, `'ell is a bloody fine place to live in just now.There's underground railways and 'lectric trams, and at the corner of nearly every street there's a sort of pub where you can buy ice-cream, lemon squash, four ale, and American cold drinks; and you're allowed to sit in a refrigerator for two hours for a tanner.'
Although they laughed and made fun of these things the reader must not think that they really doubted the truth of the Christian religion, because - although they had all been brought up by `Christian' parents and had been `educated' in `Christian' schools - none of them knew enough about Christianity to either really believe it or disbelieve it.The imposters who obtain a comfortable living by pretending to be the ministers and disciples of the Workman of Nazareth are too cunning to encourage their dupes to acquire anything approaching an intelligent understanding of the subject.They do not want people to know or understand anything: they want them to have Faith - to believe without knowledge, understanding, or evidence.For years Harlow and his mates - when children - had been `taught' `Christianity' in day school, Sunday School and in church or chapel, and now they knew practically nothing about it! But they were `Christians' all the same.They believed that the Bible was the word of God, but they didn't know where it came from, how long it had been in existence, who wrote it, who translated it or how many different versions there were.
Most of them were almost totally unacquainted with the contents of the book itself.But all the same, they believed it - after a fashion.
`But puttin' all jokes aside,' said Philpot, `I can't believe there's sich a place as 'ell.There may be some kind of punishment, but Idon't believe it's a real fire.'
`Nor nobody else, what's got any sense,' replied Harlow, contemptuously.
