Chapter 14 of 19 · 6374 words · ~32 min read

CHAPTER XII.

THE ENGLISH OF THE PRESENT DAY—THE ARISTOCRACY—THE MIDDLE CLASSES—THE INDUSTRIAL CLASSES—FARM LABOURERS—THE RESORTS OF DRUNKARDS.

England, or perhaps we should rather say Great Britain, to-day occupies a very peculiar and not a very enviable position in the history of drink. In that, as in many other respects, our island has formed a kind of halting station in the traffic between the Eastern and the Western world. Some writers attribute the worst phases of drunkenness to our wars in the Netherlands,[294] others to our Anglo-Saxon descent, and to our intercourse with the mediæval Germans; and the last view is supported by the philological resemblance between their drinking terms and ours, and perhaps also by the ordinary colloquial expressions to which reference was made when we treated of the history of drink in Germany. No doubt the invasions of such barbarians as the Danish rovers on the one hand, and the return of our own soldiery from expeditions into the Netherlands, Germany, and France on the other, have had much to do with the formation and development of our national vice. Passing westward, the Americans of to-day will tell us, in like manner, that most of their drinking is performed by Irish, German, and English emigrants and settlers; and that view is certainly borne out by the opinions of impartial English writers on America. But Great Britain ought not to be held responsible for the whole sum of her intemperance. Our seaports, especially those on the west coast, are made the receptacles of what may be called the concentrated vice of the world. In Liverpool, Glasgow, and Bristol there is a constant influx of men whose chief employment is drinking;—seamen of all nations landing with a keen thirst and full purses; improvident Irish labourers, who, after being accustomed to earn very low wages at home, suddenly find themselves possessed of more than is necessary to provide for their daily wants. In addition to these, there is the residuum of the currents which are constantly flowing backwards and forwards between the eastern and the western hemispheres. Where there is a demand for drink, the supply naturally follows, and the supply in this case is undoubtedly accompanied by infamies inexpressible, as any one may witness for himself who wanders along the docks, or visits the haunts of the vicious classes in the great seaports which have been named, or, indeed, in any considerable seaport in Great Britain.

It is to this class of society chiefly that England owes her unenviable reputation for drunkenness amongst the nations of the world, but before dealing with this lowest phase of the subject, it will be instructive to cast a glance over the whole of our society in the present day.

_No English gentleman now gets drunk_; that is not saying much, perhaps; and however it may hurt the susceptibilities of some of our readers in the middle and upper classes, we feel bound to add, that the term “gentleman” is, in this respect, equally applicable to every rank of society, to the humblest artisan as well as to the peer of the realm. There is one regrettable distinction, however, and it is this: In the middle and upper classes there are naturally not so many drunkards, nor are they so obtrusive, as those in the lower classes. In the former, therefore, sober people do not feel themselves identified with the sots who disgrace their order, whilst among the poor, many who are really better deserving of the title of “gentleman” than some of those who are constantly lecturing them upon sobriety, have to support a large share of the obloquy which attaches to the drunken and disorderly members of their class.

In common with every other rank of society except the “residuum,” the English aristocracy have very much improved in their drinking habits, especially during the last few years. The exercise of field-sports, and the opportunities they offered for indulgence, were formerly the occasions of great intemperance in the higher walks of life; and to be “as drunk as a lord” is an epithet which is not yet forgotten. Their comparatively small numbers, the position of responsibility which they occupy, and above all, the example of a virtuous court, or perhaps it would be more strictly accurate to say, of a punctilious sovereign, these circumstances have completely changed the habits of the aristocracy. No doubt there are still many men amongst them who are a disgrace to their rank and station, but on the whole they compare favourably with any class below them. Making all due allowance for the courtesy necessitated by the position in which he was placed, we should say that Sir William Gull was not far wrong when he stated to the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance: “I think it is quite a mistake if the public, or any class of the public, should suppose that where people have the means they are intemperate. It is quite the contrary. I think, if I had to look for a temperate person, I should look in the upper classes.”[295] It would indeed be a sad disgrace to the “upper classes” if it were otherwise. As in the upper middle classes, there is now very little after-dinner drinking amongst the aristocracy; the younger members are not given to excess to any greater extent than those of the class below them, although the practice, prejudicial alike to health and morals, of “nipping” at clubs is said to be on the increase; and finally, the cases of ladies (if the term can be so applied) who drink inordinately are exceptions to the general rule. And yet it is the opinion of those who are best able to judge, that for health there is still far too much alcohol drunk even by the aristocracy; but probably that remark applies equally to every other rank of society.

In the middle classes there has been a very great improvement of late years. There is still far too much drinking, but comparatively little drunkenness, excepting among fast young men. There are no more three-bottle men, for in nearly all cultivated circles the gentlemen rise from the table with the ladies, and there are very few men of good position in society who would care to boast that they had drunk a couple of bottles of wine at a sitting. Spirits, which are still consumed by the middle classes more largely in Scotland and Ireland than in England, are rarely drunk to excess by gentlemen. In our clubs and restaurants claret and hock are daily coming more into use; and one of the most satisfactory evidences of the changed drinking habits in this country is the increasing consumption of imported German and Scandinavian beer.

If it be true that an English gentleman never gets drunk, not gallantry alone but the facts of the case warrant our saying further that no English _lady_ takes more intoxicating drink than is becoming. Unfortunately our municipal and charitable institutions are made the excuse for entertainments at which old drinking customs are upheld far more than is desirable, and we should not be within the strict limits of accuracy if we were to say that we have never seen a lady at a public table whose conversation had been stimulated by wine more freely than was consistent with the usages of polite society. But these are, after all, exceptions, and we think our readers may take it for granted that the _lady_ who thus forgets herself, or one who sends to her grocer’s for wine or spirits, has gone far to relinquish her claim to the title.[296]

Amongst the lower middle classes—as, for example, the smaller tradesmen—there is still much intemperance; but even there, self-respect and public opinion prevent anything like its obtrusion upon the notice of the world. In connection with political action drunkenness is still rife, but secret voting and the abolition of public nominations have to some extent mitigated the evil. There was a time, and that not very far back, when in many English towns the week preceding and that following a parliamentary election was one protracted orgie of the most debasing kind. This part of the subject we shall, however, treat at greater length hereafter. Perhaps the distribution of actual drunkenness through the various ranks of society is pretty fairly illustrated by some of our police records. The following, for example, is a statement condensed and classified from the table of apprehensions for drunkenness as they appear in the report of the Chief Constable of Liverpool for the year 1877:—

The total number of men who were apprehended for being “drunk and disorderly” in Liverpool during that year was 7020. These were taken from various classes of society, as follows:—

Clergymen and priests, _None._ Merchants and brokers, 13 Professional men of all kinds—architects, artists, surgeons, &c., 43 Shopkeepers (including 12 publicans), 194 Clerks and agents, 175 All skilled artisans, including engineers, mechanics, joiners, masons, printers, &c., 1010 Coachmen, carmen, and carters, 342 Sailors, 894 Porters and dock labourers, 3862 All other occupations, and persons of no occupation, 487 ---- 7020

Thus it will be seen that, as nearly as possible, two-thirds of the disorderly drunkenness in the town (for there were the “drunk and incapables” besides) which ranks second upon the black list (Glasgow being usually considered the first) is caused by dock-labourers and sailors, precisely the classes to whom we said we are indebted for our unenviable reputation as a drunken people! And if the reader turns to the female statistics for the same year, he will be pained to find that of 4842 women who were apprehended under the same conditions, 421 are set down as hawkers, which means chiefly basket-women; 1364 as prostitutes; and 2565 (being nearly all the remainder) as of “no trade.” What that means we leave the reader to imagine. Of course this statement embraces the residuum of every class; but, in the author’s opinion, it presents a fair summary of the relative amount of drunkenness in the different grades of the middle and lower classes. It has been stated by some persons who have large opportunities of judging, that drunkenness is on the increase in England; whilst others as distinctly declare the reverse. Those who wish to review these opposite expressions of opinion should read the Report of the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance; but, in order to show that the evidence there given cannot be considered at all conclusive on either side, we need only take that of two witnesses. The Chief Constable of Liverpool (Major Greig) holds the opinion that, “if anything, he should say that intemperance is increasing” in that town;[297] but, on the other hand, the Rev. James Nugent, the “Father Matthew” of Liverpool, who has been twenty-nine years a priest there, and is now the Roman Catholic chaplain of the borough gaol, says that “certainly there is less drunkenness in Liverpool” than there was formerly;[298] and the same uncertainty on the subject seems to prevail generally throughout the country.

Now let us inquire on what grounds the opinion obtains that drunkenness is on the increase, and we shall find that they are twofold. The first is the increasing consumption of spirits per head of the population; the second, the police statistics. The first fact may be admitted, although there cannot at present be any accurate calculation on the subject. As to the police statistics, we shall show that they are quite misleading. In reading the evidence given before Committees of the Houses of Parliament, we are often far more accurately informed by the questions of the members of the Committee than by the replies which are given to them. For the questioners are usually statesmen of high intelligence and large experience, who have taken a more extended survey of the subject than the witnesses who have been called up from various parts of the country. These are generally advocates of some particular theory or system, and their information, which is usually of a local nature, is often distorted by the medium through which it passes, or vitiated by the method in which it is communicated.

Thus, in reading over the questions put by Lord Aberdare, one of the Lords’ Committee referred to, whose sanitary legislation, especially connected with the over-crowding of dwellings in 1866, and his Licensing Act (1872), render him peculiarly fitted to form an accurate estimate of the condition of the working classes, we are led to infer that his views on the subject under consideration are as follows:[299]—First, that the increased consumption of intoxicating drinks amongst the working classes is due to their greater power of expenditure, much in the same sense as the increasing consumption of tea, coffee, meat, &c., and that growing intemperance is not a necessary corollary of the increased consumption; and, secondly, that a higher standard of feeling is growing up amongst working men generally, who look upon drunkenness with greater disfavour than they did formerly.[300] If these be the views of Lord Aberdare, the author cordially endorses them, and he will endeavour, as concisely as possible, to prove their accuracy. But it must first be shown clearly that, either from their dubious nature or from their partial application, statistics are usually very misleading when they are used as a factor in estimating this part of the question.

Let us consider, for example, the police statistics which are so often employed to gauge the amount of drunkenness in our large towns; and it may be remarked that the figures and information here quoted have been supplied to the author by the Chief Constables in the respective places, or they are printed in annual or special reports. In the statistics of the Metropolitan Police[301] we find the following remarkable circumstances:—

In 1833, with an estimated population of 1,579,525 there were 29,880 apprehensions for drunkenness, or 18.917 per 1000.

In 1834, with an estimated population of 1,607,350 there were only 19,779 apprehensions, or 12.305 per 1000.

In 1876, with an estimated population of 4,211,607 there were 32,328 apprehensions, or 7.676 per 1000.

First, it appears there was a falling off in the arrests to the extent of over 10,000 between the years 1833 and 1834; and then a gradual diminution from nearly 30 per mille in 1833 to 7.6 per mille in 1876. Surely these figures would indicate not an increase but a remarkable diminution of drunkenness. But, on inquiry as to the cause of the sudden decrease, the author received the following information:—“In 1831, ’32, and ’33, three-fourths of the persons arrested, _or rather taken care of_, by the police were discharged by the superintendents without being taken before a magistrate. This practice was discontinued by the Metropolitan Police in 1834, and the arrests decreased by 10,000.”

In 1840 the arrests had, however, fallen to about 8 per mille, and from that time to the present they have fluctuated between that figure and about 5 per mille; consequently, whilst it would be very unsafe, after the above explanation, to base any estimate upon the figures, yet, if they mean anything at all, there must have been a diminution of drunkenness in one of our most important centres of civilisation.[302]

Now let us turn to Liverpool:—

In the year 1857, with an estimated population of 416,119, the number of persons proceeded against for 11,439, or 2.75 drunkenness was per 100.

In the year 1877, with an estimated population of 519,505 the number proceeded against for drunkenness was 15,736, or 3.02 per 100.

Here, at first sight, there would appear to be a slight increase of drunkenness; but if the reader could see the printed books of instructions given to the police for the last thirty or thirty-five years, he would find that a very much more stringent system of dealing with drunkards has been gradually established in Liverpool during that period. Unfortunately the table[303] does not go back farther than 1857; but a comparison of the police instructions in the years 1845, 1867, and 1878[304] reveals the fact that whilst formerly the solicitude of the authorities seems to have been on behalf of the drunkards as against the police (in fact, drunkards were “taken care of,” as in London), now the former meets with the consideration which he deserves, and instead of being “passed on” to his home, he is taken before a magistrate and fined. Here again, therefore, the statistics favour the view that drunkenness has diminished rather than that it has increased. But this is mere guess-work. What it does prove, however, is, that the vice which was formerly regarded as a pardonable failing has gradually become a petty criminal offence. And finally, in Birmingham, we have a very flattering picture, for—

In 1866, the estimated population was 295,995. The arrests for drunkenness were only 1,357, or 0.45 per cent.

And in 1877, the estimated population was 380,787, and the arrests for drunkenness, 3,727, or 0.9 per cent.

But on inquiry, the author was informed by the Chief Constable (Major Bond) that “in September last year (1877) I put in force the first paragraph of section 12 of Act 1872, generally known as the ‘quiet drunkard,’ and summoned in a short time 320 persons for being drunk in our public streets; but I was eventually ordered by the Town Council not to carry out the provisions of that section.” This fact was, we believe, published at the time in the Birmingham papers; and without expressing any opinion upon the policy of arresting or not arresting drunken people at any particular stage of intoxication, we hope we have sufficiently proved that the value and significance of the statistics are absolutely nothing, unless all the concomitant circumstances in each case, extending over a long series of years, are regarded at the same time. The number of persons arrested or proceeded against depends largely upon the jurisdiction and mode of dealing with drunkards by the police, and upon the view taken by the inhabitants or the magistrates of what really constitutes a drunkard. In some places a man is allowed to go his way; in another, he is taken up and “booked;” and the smallest change in the mode of proceeding makes an incalculable difference in the published statistics of drunkenness. And finally, these statistics of apprehensions are misleading in another respect. It must not be supposed that because in Liverpool, for example, apparently three per cent. of the population were arrested last year for drunkenness, therefore that proportion are in the habit of getting drunk. The same men and women are brought before the magistrates over and over again, and their arrest is recorded each time; so that the actual number of individuals apprehended annually is not known, or at least not published. Once more, then, the statistics of apprehensions serve only to convey some vague idea of the general condition of the lowest residuum; and although the ignorance and depravity of the class affected really render them all the more dangerous to society, it is quite fallacious to employ the records of our police courts to base an estimate of the increase or diminution of drunkenness throughout the whole community. We have here gone quite far enough in employing them to convey some general idea of the condition of the various ranks of society.

That the annual consumption of spirits per head of the population may be a somewhat better guide to the condition of the people, we have little doubt, though there is no proof that it is so; and even a nominal prohibition of the manufacture and sale may sometimes have little effect in checking drunkenness, as we shall see hereafter. Still it is safe to affirm that the more easily drink is obtainable, whether from its cheapness or from the multiplication of drinking shops, the more liability there is to excess on the part of all sections of the community. This is, however, a mere generalisation. For example, when the “Gin Act” was passed, it is true the consumption fell off apparently two millions of gallons, but twenty-two years afterwards, long after the Act was repealed, it had first risen and then fallen much lower; that is to say, in 1737 it stood at 4,250,399; in 1743, after the repeal of the Act, at 8,203,430, and during the interim the duty was threepence per gallon; but in 1759, when the duty was raised to 2s. 3d., it was only 1,819,134 gallons. Again, if the reader will consult the interesting table compiled by the Rev. D. Burns already referred to,[305] he will find that, with slight fluctuations, there has been a steady increase in the consumption of spirits in England, in proportion to the population, from 1684, when the duty was twopence per gallon, to 1873, when it was 10s.; and that increase still continues. In Scotland, whilst in 1853 the duties were 3s. 8d. and 4s. 8d. per gallon, the consumption of spirits was 6,534,648 gallons; whilst in 1873, with the duty raised to 10s., and an increase of about 600,000 inhabitants, it was only a little more, namely, 6,832,487 gallons. This really denotes increased sobriety, due, no doubt, partly to repressive measures, and partly to the rapid spread of education.

Still great caution is necessary in the use of these statistics. Mr. Burns tells us in his paper referred to,[306] that Mr. Gladstone’s legislation in 1860, which reduced the duty on light French wines, had failed as a measure of temperance, inasmuch as it had stimulated the consumption of strong Spanish and Portuguese wines, and in proof he cites the customs’ returns of 1858 to 1860 inclusive, and then those of 1863 to 1865 inclusive, showing that the importation of claret had not prevented that of the strong Spanish and Portuguese wines from rising rapidly from an annual average of 6,600,000 gallons to one of 11,270,000 gallons. Feeling certain that Mr. Burns had formed an erroneous estimate of the effect produced by Mr. Gladstone’s fiscal legislation, the author procured from him further statistics, and this is really how the matter stands:—Mr. Gladstone’s legislation took place, as already stated, in 1860. Beginning with the year 1859, the wine imported from France was 695,911 gallons; from Spain and Portugal, 4,893,916 gallons. Whilst in 1876 the wine imported from France was 6,745,710 gallons; and from Spain and Portugal, 10,186,332 gallons. The importation of strong wines had therefore actually fallen below the average of 1863-65, whilst that of French wine had increased tenfold by the reduction of the duty.

We have no hesitation in repeating that it is to the increased consumption of these light wines the improved drinking habits of the middle classes are largely to be attributed. And now we must bid adieu to statistics, which are, as Abbé Moigno once remarked, very eloquent, but which, as we have sought to show, are often very misleading, and although in perfect good faith, are frequently much misapplied.

The proof that the great mass of the community is becoming more sober, and that the working classes are more sensitive than formerly on the question of drunkenness, is easily obtained, and the facts are quite apparent to any one who has moved about amongst, and associated with them for the last twenty years, as the author has done. Year by year the unions and societies of working men are deserting the public-house and its dangerous attractions in greater numbers, and are holding their meetings in schoolrooms and other places where intoxicating drink is not procurable. And round about the practice of meeting in such places there clustered a variety of old trade customs, the effect of which was to encourage, if not actually to necessitate, intemperance on the part of working men. Until the year 1872, the boiler-makers, a large and influential body of artisans, were allowed threepence each from the society’s funds to be spent at the public-house at which the branch held its meetings; but now, wherever the meetings may be held, intoxicating drink is forbidden. Many of the branches meet, as the author is told by Mr. Knight, the general secretary, in schoolrooms, halls, and private houses; and he adds, “I believe very many more would hold their meetings away from the public-house could they get convenient accommodation sufficiently near.”

Another agency which is influencing the habits of the working classes is the introduction of machinery in place of manual labour. A very marked illustration of this exists in the case of the bakers. “Thirty years ago,” says the secretary of the Liverpool Bakers’ Union, Mr. Ritchie, in a letter to the author, “a branch of our trade, the ship-bread bakers, were very much given to excess in drinking, through having to work in a very hot atmosphere, and by double sets of men, night and day; but that is altered now by the introduction of machinery. Any man who becomes a confirmed drunkard is now compelled, owing to greater strictness in the matter of sobriety, to leave his trade, and take work at the corn warehouses or docks. The branch,” he adds, “to which I belong, numbering over two hundred members, have not held our meetings in a public-house for the last five years; and now we have bought a house for our own accommodation, and to let off to other societies. We could not have done that if the old habits had continued.” This writer attributes much of the drunkenness that does undoubtedly exist amongst the working classes to the encouragement which is given to it by the construction and management of public-houses, a view in which the author entirely concurs; for, as at present constructed, our public-houses and wine-rooms give facility for private and secret intemperance.

In several of the trades foremen were formerly lessees of public-houses, and, as the secretary of the ropemakers, Mr. Pritchard, writes, “drinking men had the preference, but nothing of the sort exists now.” Of course his remark refers to the ropemakers only, but no doubt it is applicable to other trades. The practice, however, on the part of stevedores and warehousemen of keeping public-houses, and of giving a preference to “drinking men,” prevails much too largely, and it is one that might be greatly mitigated by employers, many of whom content themselves with denouncing the drinking habits of their labourers, whilst their own servants are perhaps accumulating a small fortune by the sale of drink and favouring the intemperate amongst the labourers. A still more pernicious custom than any of those named existed in bygone years, and that was the necessity on the part of an artisan to “pay his footing” on entering a new situation. “This custom,” says the secretary of the millers, Mr. J. Clarke, “is now totally done away with amongst society’s men, and I am glad to say that the drinking habits amongst the millers have greatly diminished in the last twenty years of my own experience.” Amongst the iron-moulders the case was much worse. The secretary of the union, Mr. Owen, writes, that besides the fines or “footings” paid by the men on entering a new shop, the apprentices also were mulcted. When a lad was bound, he had to pay the “shop” 10s.; when out of his time, 20s.; and when he got married, 10s. All these fines were spent in drink, and, says Mr. Owen, “the whole shop’s crew often went on the spree for days together, ending in their discharge from the firm.” All these things are now forbidden, and any one asking for footings or money in any shape is liable to a fine of 2s. 6d., the same fine being inflicted by the union upon any man who is known to have complied with the request. But the author has himself had excellent means of forming an opinion concerning the changed habits of the working classes; for, some years since, in conjunction with several friends, he helped to establish a trades hall in Liverpool, to which a number of the unions at once removed from public-houses in different parts of the town, and there now meet in that institution the following trades:—The printers, the coopers, the painters, the shipwrights, the plumbers, the farriers, the upholsterers, and several minor friendly societies, who maintain the establishment at an aggregate expenditure of about £160 per annum, which they subscribe amongst themselves. It is hardly necessary to say that the removal from the public-house to such an institution has exercised a very beneficial influence upon the drinking habits of those trades. The “United Trades Council,” which embraces representatives of every important trade in the town, also meets there, whereas, within the author’s recollection its meetings were held in a little pothouse called the “Tam o’ Shanter,” and the change has added not a little to the wisdom and moderation of its counsels, and the weight and influence of its decisions. Mr. Alexander Clark, the secretary of the council, in whose opinion on the subject the author places great reliance, assures him that during the last twenty years he has observed a marked improvement in the drinking habits of most of the trades. Another circumstance which shows the desire for improvement of the respectable working classes is, that they are all (not only the teetotallers) anxious to see the facilities for obtaining drink curtailed. In the year 1872, a committee of gentlemen, with whom the author co-operated, invited the opinion of the skilled artisans of Liverpool on the question of the hours which should be allowed for the sale of drink, and the result was as follows:[307]—

Returns were made freely, and without influence being in any way exercised upon them, by 8096 men.

Of these, the number in favour of opening public-houses at

6 A.M. on week-days was 1586, or less than one-fifth. At 7 A.M., 6505, or more than four-fifths. Of closing at 11 P.M., 1724, or about one-fifth. Of closing at 10 P.M., 6372, or about four-fifths.

And a canvass, which was subsequently made by the temperance organisations, showed that an immense majority of the whole community favoured the total closing of public-houses on Sunday. This, it must be remembered, was in a town which has the reputation, and justly so, of being one of the most drink-ridden in the whole country! What refers to the working classes of Liverpool may, however, be safely said concerning those of other large towns.

It is still too early to express a decided opinion upon the changes which are taking place in the drinking habits of our agricultural labourers. In a letter to the author, their leader, Mr. Joseph Arch, says that “having had the opportunity of making inquiries respecting the increase of drunkenness in rural villages consequent upon the advance of wages,” the answer he has received from nine out of every ten has been that there is less intemperance and less disturbance, and many publicans, he says, have complained to him that, although some of the branches of the Agricultural Labourers’ Union meet at their houses, the men spend less money now than they did formerly. Mr. Arch adds, that the reason of their meeting in public-houses at all is because the clergy deny them the use of the village schoolrooms!

When the franchise is given to those men, who are as well entitled to it as one half, at least, of those who possess it already, all this will be changed. There will be as great anxiety to conciliate the “voters,” as there is now on the part of many of the less enlightened clergy and squirearchy to suppress the combinations formed for the purpose of ameliorating their condition.[308]

It may be objected, however, that these opinions concerning the improvement in the drinking habits of the working classes, and the facts in connection with them, have been supplied to the author by persons whose interests and inclinations would naturally prompt them to present the best side of the picture for publication. No doubt it has been so; but if the reader will permit the author to take him into his confidence, he may mention that the same thing applies equally to the accounts which have been given to him by experienced men in every rank of society, from the highest to the lowest, each believing his own class to be the most sober. If there has been any unfriendly criticism of their own order, it has been amongst those who can unfortunately not close their eyes to the effects which drink is producing in their midst. For although a review of the whole question leads to the conclusion that national drunkenness is diminishing, it would be useless to conceal the fact that there are periods when the great increase in the consumption of intoxicating drinks, and especially of spirits, points to a corresponding increase in intemperance. The general prosperity of the trading community, and the rise of wages which accompanied that prosperity, from about the years 1871 to 1875, swelled the figures that represent the national thirst very considerably. But it would be very unfair to say that there was a proportionate increase of drunkenness amongst the working classes only. Gentlemen laid down wine who had not laid down wine before, and the consumption of all kinds of alcoholic drinks increased in every class of society. So far as the indulgence in drink can be blameless, much of that which was the concomitant of increasing wealth was of an innocent character. Let us not, however, forget the lesson of Rome in her latter days. The present commercial depression, with its diminution of profits and wages, may not be without its advantages, and may prove a blessing to the nation if it teaches all classes to husband their resources, and not to “eat and drink, for to-morrow we must die.” Let us remember that there are others to come after us, whom we would desire to see better and more temperate than ourselves. This brings us to a phase of the subject which the author would gladly have passed over without any further comment, namely, the character of gin-palaces; for however people may otherwise differ concerning the cause of drunkenness, there can be but one opinion of the baneful influence which these places exercise upon the habits and morals of the community. They were, perhaps, never more fairly, and certainly not more graphically, described than by a foreigner who visited England about sixteen years ago,[309] and since that period their meretricious adornments, and therewith their dangerous character, have been very much augmented. The boarded window, with its glowing descriptions of the liquid treasures (often the vilest compounds of disease and death) which are to be obtained within, whilst it conceals the scenes of debauchery which it would not be prudent to expose to the light of day, renders drinking as secret as possible. And at night the showy glass-barrels and the brilliant chandeliers, with their bright jets of gas lighting up the neighbourhood, are fit emblems of the devouring flame which, sooner or later, seizes and consumes the silly, fluttering moths that circulate about them, often vainly endeavouring to resist their attractive influences.

But why dwell upon the subject? Hundreds of books and pamphlets and thousands of newspaper articles have been published with the view to expose and counteract the evils of those “palaces,” in which are held the saturnalia of modern England. All the eloquence of the first orators of the age has been levelled at these abominations, and yet our magistrates, who are charged with the responsibility of limiting their number to meet “the wants of their neighbourhood,” allow so many of them to exist that, in one street in a large northern town, a missionary says that he “counted seven public-houses out of eleven consecutive tenements, to say nothing of two or three on the opposite side of the street!” Over and over again they have been denounced as the fruitful sources of every evil—of drunkenness, of wretched poverty and destitution, of the worst forms of insanity, of prostitution, robbery, rape, infanticide, manslaughter, and deliberate murder.[310] And yet, what is the position which their proprietors occupy in the state? They are promoted to the highest offices in our municipalities, and honours are heaped upon them which should be reserved only for those who render eminent services to the community. They are courted as political supporters; and even those who are reluctant to avail themselves of their aid uphold their influence because they dread their enmity. Their trade interests are protected with greater solicitude than those of any branch of respectable industry, because they are the source of great revenue to the national exchequer. The attempt made by one party in the state to restrict their dangerous traffic within such reasonable bounds as to prevent breaches of the law and ensure order and decency in our public streets at night, has secured for them the approving smile of the opposite political party, who now reign with their aid, and who will find it difficult to sever the odious alliance when the national conscience is once more awakened to its duties and responsibilities on the great question of drunkenness.

And as to their social influence, why it is impossible nowadays to sit at the table of a friend or relative without committing one’s self by a passing remark upon the drink traffic, and thus giving unpardonable offence to a publican, or a publican’s brother, or his sister, or some one of his intimate friends who may happen to be present!

And yet, notwithstanding the deplorable condition of the lowest ranks of our population, and the great social and political influence of those who are enriching themselves at their expense, the author does not hesitate to repeat his conviction that, whilst in some of the neighbouring countries intemperance is said to be increasing, it is in England descending lower and lower in the scale of society. And there is every reason to hope that the spread of education and the means which are being employed to counteract the evil are already operating to check its growth, and that they will before long raise the moral and social status of our country to a level with her commercial, intellectual, and political standing amongst the nations.