Voices in the Exchequer

Even friendly Labor Party M.P.s were passing on the rumor: Britain's Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Stafford Cripps, was hearing voices. One newsman put the question straight to him: Did he hear voices or didn't he? Instead of laughing, Cripps rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a long moment, then answered seriously, with a sentence that would have stunned Joan of Arc's judges: "I don't think so--at least not yet."

For the past few months, Cripps has suffered from insomnia. He has been keenly aware of public censure of his decision to devalue the pound. Friends say he is considering a year of spiritual retreat.

This week, Cripps spoke in St. Paul's Cathedral, the first layman so invited at a regular service. Under the vast, golden dome, Cripps, in a dark business suit,* seemed a tiny black speck as he walked stiffly up the marble staircase to the red-canopied pulpit. Said Insomniac Cripps: "When in the stillness of the night we face the tremendous dangers of the modern world, let us listen for the still small voice of God which can instill courage, calm and strength into our hearts . . . Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow I die . . . may smack of boldness and bravado, but it is singularly unconvincing in the still small hours of the night."

All over Whitehall, officials were bone-weary, and nobody had a tougher job than Stafford Cripps. Tired as he was, his faith could still generate eloquence. In Saint Paul's he said:

"When in the quietness doubts and fears invade our minds, we know with a deep conviction that it is not our fate to be just as the beasts of the field . . . If we bring to bear the full force of our spiritual nature to control and direct our corporate actions, by guiding our own individual action in the democratic sphere ... in accordance with the teachings of Christ, then we shall help to build up a corporate Christian conscience for our society which will give it the spiritual power to control the material forces that are at its service."

Cripps, a Christian Socialist, was striving with all his brittle, brilliant might to control material forces for society's sake. Perhaps he was trying too hard. The Tories, looking forward to a February election, would wish him retirement, rest--and no voices in the night. Since May 8, 1429, at Orleans, the British have been uncomfortable around people who thought maybe they heard voices.

*Earlier in the week Cripps announced that the dollar deficit had been reduced, and the London Daily Telegraph made one of the worst puns in years: "There is no truth . . . in the rumor that when Sir Stafford Cripps preaches in St. Paul's he will wear a surplus."

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