CHAPTER XV.

THE CAUSES OF INTEMPERANCE—MODERATE DRINKING—REMEDIES FOR INTEMPERANCE—THE POLITICAL ASPECT OF THE QUESTION.

Up to the present time we have been chiefly engaged in recording the facts of history, and in describing various phases in the social life of nations, but in the present chapter we shall have to deal with theories and opinions of a more or less debateable character. This it will be our endeavour to do, as heretofore, in an impartial spirit; but whilst we examine the views of others without prejudice, we shall not hesitate to avow openly the convictions which have been forced upon us, by a careful review of the experience of the past and by personal observation of the social changes now in progress.

What, then, have been the causes of intemperance in the human race? and are those causes still in operation? These are the questions to which we must first seek satisfactory replies. Some persons hold the view that climate has much to do with the inordinate love of intoxicating drink, and they point to the intemperance of Northern nations—of the Russians, the Swedes, the Norwegians, and the English—as examples in favour of their theory, comparing them with the Mohammedans and the nations of Southern Europe. But our cursory glance at the habits of the earliest known races of mankind has taught us that there has been as great intemperance in warm and dry as in cold and damp climates. The history and traditions of ancient China, of some of the Aryan races of India, and of the ancient Egyptians, go far to invalidate the climatic theory. And how about the people of ancient Greece and Rome during the decadence of the latter? What is to be said of Torquatus “Tricongius;” of the Emperor Tiberius? Even the evidence which is adduced in favour of the theory, on careful inquiry, tells against it. It is true that the Mohammedans of to-day are a comparatively sober people. But why are they so? Because their great prophet found them such inveterate drunkards that he made them renounce intoxicating drinks entirely, in order to save them from destruction.

We are quite prepared to admit, however, that the inhabitants of cold and damp countries are able to stand more alcohol than those of warmer regions. That is shown by the change which takes place in the character of the drinks taken at different seasons of the year in the same country. And that is a circumstance, too, which should not be lost sight of by those who draw inferences concerning the degrees of intemperance in any particular locality from the statistics of drink consumed. We have not taken the trouble to look closely into the matter, but it would not at all surprise us to find that in years where there had been severe cold, or a long continuance of “uncomfortable weather,” the consumption of alcohol will have materially increased. This is, however, an abnormal condition, and we believe that the argument will not hold good that a cold and damp climate constantly favours intemperance as compared with one that is warm and dry. At the present time, the Northern nations of Europe are actually becoming more sober, whilst the habits of some of those bordering on the south are tending in the opposite direction.

Another explanation has been given of the prevalence of drunkenness, namely, the practice on the part of medical men of too freely prescribing alcohol as a remedy for bodily ailments. This sin was laid to their charge at a very early period, for Pliny, as we know, censured certain of them for seeking to please their patients by such prescriptions. Nor are they by any means free from blame in our time; indeed, we shall find presently that medical men of the higher order admit this to be the case. The downfall of many a man or woman has dated from the first dose prescribed by a heedless or mercenary physician; but all right-minded medical men now recognise this abuse in the profession, and none are so anxious as they to see it remedied. In this relation, however, it will be proper to say a few words on the necessary employment of alcohol in cases of disease, for we must be careful not to pronounce an opinion which shall cause unnecessary suffering to the innocent and afflicted, even whilst we are condemning a recognised abuse. The views of medical practitioners are somewhat divergent on this question, but the balance of opinion decidedly favours the use of alcohol in certain cases; and amongst those who hold that view are found to be some who have written vigorously in favour of total abstinence. In the United States, for example, we noticed that even the Maine Liquor Law provides for its sale for medicinal purposes; and in Scotland, Dr. James Miller, in his able work against alcoholic beverages, more than once approves of their use medicinally, and treats of the cases of disease in which they may be beneficially employed.[369]

In their evidence given before the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, some of our leading professional men, as Dr. Burdon Sanderson, Dr. Brunton, and Sir William Gull, have all spoken of the value of alcohol as a medicine, giving their reasons for thus advocating its employment in the clearest and most explicit manner, and valuable information on the subject may be gained from various books and reports which have been published by perfectly disinterested critics, and even by those who are strongly biassed in favour of total abstinence.[370]

As regards the use of alcohol in surgical cases, it is needless to say that its indiscreet application under such circumstances must be dangerous, without reference to its moral effects; but there, too, the best opinions favour its use in certain cases. They are well expressed by Mr. W. S. Savory, F.R.C.S., of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, in a letter to the author, which, with the writer’s sanction, he publishes verbatim, for it conveys at the same time moral sentiments concerning the use of alcohol which he holds in common with nearly all respectable practitioners in the present day. “Although,” he says, “I am willing to admit that in my opinion alcohol, in its various forms of wine, beer, and spirits, is often needlessly and recklessly prescribed in the practice of surgery, yet I am sure that we could not altogether dispense with its use without frequent disadvantage to our patients, and even the occasional sacrifice of life. In cases where stimulants are required, sometimes others, as certain drugs, might be substituted for those, either without loss or with positive gain; but, after full allowance is made for this, there must remain, I think, many instances in which alcoholic drinks largely promote recovery, and several in which the balance of life and death turns upon their prompt and judicious administration. When I reflect on the enormous evil of alcohol to the community—an evil in its physical and moral results beyond parallel—I wish with all my heart that I could, as a surgeon, say less for this most prolific parent of disease and crime.”

Looking, then, at the opinions here expressed, and at all the circumstances, we think our readers will agree with us in saying that it would be very unwise and injurious to attempt, by pressure or coercion, to interfere with the employment of alcohol by regular medical practitioners when they deem it requisite. But, on the other hand, society is under deep obligations to those who are endeavouring to replace it by other remedies, and more particularly to the philanthropists who have recently established an hospital from which the use of alcohol is entirely excluded. The great benefit that such an institution will confer, not only upon the medical profession but upon the whole community, is that it will lead to the limitation of the use of alcohol in diseases, and will prevent its prescription merely to gratify the taste of self-indulgent patients. Eventually, too, it may lead to the discontinuance of the use of alcohol even for medicinal purposes.[371]

Two other causes, concerning which there will be no difference of opinion, have been assigned for the prevalence of intemperance, and these lie at the very root of the whole matter. Whether, technically speaking, the love of intoxicating drink be or be not “instinctive,” it is a human passion, and certainly it is in many cases hereditary. As we showed in our opening chapter, those who refuse to regard it as an instinct are driven to acknowledge that it is an “inbred enemy,”[372] which is transmissible by inheritance; and one writer on temperance speaks of the enjoyments which accompany the use of alcohol in terms sufficiently vague to show that he has no very clear views on the matter. “It is something transferred from the category of drugs into that of food,” he says, “because in its effects it is pleasant or ‘delightful to the senses.’ In its effects, we say, for as regards itself, the ‘daintiness’ and ‘deliciousness,’ and ‘gratifying of the appetite,’ are generally not instinctive but acquired.”[373] But it is precisely this “deliciousness,” and the pleasurable sensations which accompany its use, that have caused the passion for drink to obtain so great a mastery over a large portion of mankind, and it is a waste of words to tell people who find intoxicating drink dainty and delicious and pleasant to the senses, that they must discontinue its use because it is _generally_ an acquired taste, and does not form part of their instinctive nature. That the forms in which alcohol is imbibed are often very unpalatable, there can be no doubt. If the “soma” drink of the ancient Aryans at all resembled that which the modern Brahmans permitted M. Haug to taste, the gustatory sense amongst the primitive races of men could not have been very refined, and we question whether it needed less education than the palate which can find enjoyment in gin and bitters, or in a tumblerful of Scotch whisky diluted with cold water. But it is the physiological effect upon the body, and the influence upon the brain and nerves, which have been the irresistible attractions of alcohol for men, women, and children in all ages. The Aryans could not conceive of Indra’s performing any great action unless he was inebriated, because alcohol inspired them (his worshippers) with artificial valour. “Wine banishes fear,” said the ancient Rabbins. Homer makes his hero speak of

“——twelve large vessels of unmingled wine, Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine,”[374]

which Maron had kept “some ages” in his cellar.

Pliny, the foe of intemperance, says of wine, that “it causes a feeling of warmth” in the body, and he extols its moderate use. “Brandy,” said a Red Indian, “is made of tongues and hearts, for when I have drunk of it, I fear nothing, and I talk like an angel.” And that is precisely the sensation which is experienced by a modern pothouse orator whilst he is spouting to a small circle of admirers in the bar-parlour, or by the more ambitious politician who flourishes in the face of a bewildered continent a sanguinary manifesto under the exhilarating influences of a civic feast.

Even the savages of civilised life do not love the drink for its taste alone. “Please God! I’ll be like him in an hour,” says the still sober navvy as he sees his intoxicated comrade reel past, whilst he is waiting at the contractor’s gate for the payment of his week’s wages.

When, in addition to its physiological and mental effects, the liquor itself is sweet and aromatic, as in certain wines, or when the process of fermentation has been checked and a sparkling effervescence is superadded, making it pleasant also to the taste and smell, it is no wonder that its influence should be so irresistible, and that it should entice so many from the path of duty. It “drives dull care away,” the anxious man will tell us, and if it be only for the time, he is content to seek refuge in his cup from the cares of life. It “warms the heart of man,” and makes that one generous and open-hearted who is otherwise niggard and reserved. He may be meaner afterwards for having forgotten himself in a moment of exhilaration, but that only renders his fits of inebriate generosity the more conspicuous. If not itself a food, it often takes its place where suitable nourishment is wanting, and it would be rank hypocrisy to deny that a bottle of port-wine has brought health and comfort to many a poor man’s home. And finally, it has been a bond of union in all ages between those who have been misnamed “good fellows,” amongst whom—

“Wit’s electric flame Ne’er so swiftly passes, As when through the frame It shoots from brimming glasses.”[375]

These have been the chief causes of intemperance in past times, and in the present day there are many others peculiar to a comparatively high state of civilisation. The chief, amongst the poor at least, are unhappy and unhealthy homes, and he who does something to improve the dwellings and the sanitary condition of the humbler classes, or to amend their domestic habits, is one of the most effective workers in the cause of temperance reform. Smoking, too, in which some teetotallers indulge to such excess, is another stimulus to drinking; so is the custom, peculiarly English, of associating the consumption of drink with commercial, religious, moral, and charitable undertakings. But worst of all is the needless multiplication of public-houses, and the strenuous efforts which are made by the vendors of intoxicating drink to render their establishments and their wares as attractive as possible to every human sense, often at a great sacrifice of honesty, and without any regard to the feelings of humanity.

Of the agencies which are at work to counteract all these injurious influences we shall speak presently; but, meanwhile, we must make a brief reference to the somewhat delicate subject of moderate drinking. And, first of all, we must inquire, “What is moderate drinking?”

One writer on the subject, who is usually considered an authority, says that “for a hard-working student, politician, professional man, or busy merchant, there is no better arrangement possible than that of taking as the regular daily allowance, a bottle of sound ordinary wine of Bordeaux.”[376] Such wine, we are told, is to cost one shilling per bottle. Another quotation from the same writer will, however, relieve us from the necessity of showing that this can hardly be called moderate drinking: “We did not intend,” he says, “when recommending the ‘hard-working _student_’ to allow himself a bottle per diem of weak Bordeaux wine” [it was ‘sound’ just now], “to give that recommendation to young lads. We are thinking of ‘hard-working students’ of middle age; and we would state our firm conviction that for youths, say under twenty-five, whose bodily frame is as yet not fully consolidated, the proper rule is, _either no alcohol, or very little indeed_.”[377] We trust that “young lads” under twenty-five will appreciate the compliment and the advice; and as to politicians and busy merchants, we may safely leave them to enjoy a bottle of shilling claret per diem, if they like that “arrangement.” Another medical authority, the “Lancet,” in a very temperate article on the “Drink Question,” says that, “For young and active men a glass of beer, or one or two glasses of claret, at dinner, is, we believe, an ample supply; while men of middle age may, with advantage, stop at the third glass of claret, sherry, or port, and feel no ill result.” But the same writer admits that no definite quantity can be fixed, and that “the ultimate test in every case must be experience, and until men have enough moral control and discretion to limit their drinking to that which they absolutely require, all direction and rebuke will be thrown away.”

Both these writers are singularly reticent concerning the quantity of alcohol which they would consider moderate for a strong, active working man, who can afford neither port, sherry, nor claret. But really it matters very little, for the whole argument may be summed up by saying that, if men are unable to restrain themselves in the matter of drink, by far the best counsel to give them is, “drink not at all;” and in case that advice should prove unavailing, the only alternative is to prevent them from inflicting injury upon themselves and others by using such measures as the state may from time to time authorise. And now let us direct our attention to some of the agencies which are in active operation to counteract the intemperance unfortunately so prevalent, chiefly amongst the poorer classes.

* * * * *

Temperance societies, called “Orden der Mässigkeit,” as we know, were established and officially recognised in the Middle Ages throughout Germany, where they met with support from the princes and nobles of the land. It is needless to refer again to their rules and operations, for we did so in our review of the drinking habits of that country; but it will be as well to recollect that the causes to which the reform of those customs are attributable were in part the action of the temperance societies, but also in a great measure the substitution of beer for spirits, the introduction of non-alcoholic beverages from the East, and the general education of the people. From the record of those facts, then, we take our departure in treating of the changes which are now in progress in our own country and elsewhere.

Modern temperance societies were, as their name indicates, associations of earnest men whose object was to check drunkenness, and their scope was at first limited to the recommendation of abstinence from spirits. On that basis the first temperance society was founded at Boston, U.S.A., according to some authorities, on February 1824,[378] whilst others say in February 1826.[379] In the New World they spread with marvellous rapidity; for we are told that in 1829 there had been formed more than 1000 temperance societies; that upwards of fifty distilleries had been stopped, above 400 merchants had relinquished the sale of spirits, and upwards of 1200 drunkards had been reformed. As a proof that the change was not merely hypothetical, it was shown that in 1824 the imported spirits amounted to 5,285,000 gallons, whilst in 1830 the imports had fallen off to 1,195,000 gallons.[380] All good citizens co-operated in the work of reformation. Shipowners paid higher wages to temperance captains, and the Boston Insurance Company agreed to return five per cent. on the premium of every vessel navigated without spirituous liquors, as our marine insurance companies might well do in England, with great pecuniary benefit to themselves. Even the war authorities aided the movement by issuing an order prohibiting the distribution of spirits amongst the army, and substituting eight pounds of sugar and four pounds of coffee with every 100 rations, as an equivalent for the spirits formerly in use. In 1834 the number of temperance societies had increased to about 7000, reckoning two millions of members, and a thousand ships were sailing without spirits on board.[381]

In England the first society was started on the 2nd February 1830, by Mr H. Forbes at Bradford; in Scotland, at Greenock, by Mr. John Dunlop and his friends on the 6th October 1829; and in Ireland by the Rev. G. W. Carr at New Ross, 1829. In the last-named country, it is hardly necessary to remind the reader, the great work of temperance reform was taken up at a later period and carried on with great vigour and success by Father Mathew, the well-known philanthropist. From the very commencement the temperance societies have received the support of all thoughtful members of the community, but they have had drawbacks in the eyes of many which prevented their being regarded with unqualified approbation. They soon found it necessary to shift the basis of their operations from the mere abstention from spirits to what is called “total abstinence,” and from moral suasion only, they turned to coercive legal measures against drunkards and drink-sellers. In these matters they have, however, only followed the direction of public opinion, and whilst the number of their members and the zeal of their workers have increased, their changed policy has naturally swelled the ranks of their enemies. Many of their members, too, have taken refuge within their precincts from their inability to exercise due control over their passions, and some of those have not been any more successful as temperance orators than they were previously as moderate drinkers, for it is their intemperate advocacy which has alienated many who would otherwise have been warm supporters of the movement. Amongst the leaders of the great reform, however, there have been some of the noblest men of the age, who have cheerfully submitted to ridicule, to sneers, and to every kind of obloquy and persecution in the performance of their sacred duty; and their perseverance, aided by that of myriads of workers of the rank and file, is already bearing rich fruits in the ameliorated condition of modern society.

The extent and ramifications of modern temperance societies are almost incredible. Most of the United States and Territories have general societies, and in many cities and townships of each State there are, as with us, local societies with their branches. The chief religious denominations are committed by resolution and practice to total abstinence, and many churches connect temperance work with their other organisations. So widespread and universal are these denominational societies, that Father Nugent of Liverpool stated before the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance that he found attached to nearly every Catholic church in Canada and the United States total abstinence societies, and that such society was “the leaven of each congregation.”[382] Indeed, he was so impressed with what he witnessed there, that on his return home, to use his own words, “he took up Father Mathew’s work in Liverpool on the 29th February 1872.” His action, coupled with that of his zealous associates in Liverpool, has had the effect of ameliorating the condition of the Irish Catholics in that town, although there is still ample room for improvement; but his reforming zeal is not universal, for there are places in which the priests have not hesitated to seek the alliance of the gin-shop in the pursuit of what they no doubt believe conscientiously enough to be their religious duty. On the whole, however, the leadership and example of their chief, Cardinal Manning, and the self-denial and devotion of the priesthood, are doing much to stem the tide of drunkenness amongst the class in which that vice is undoubtedly the most prevalent in all English-speaking communities.

Those, however, who are exercising the most powerful influence upon all grades and classes are the Nonconformist clergy and laity, and the members of the Society of Friends. In many parts of the United States, as we stated in our last chapter, it is a _sine qua non_ that the minister should be a total abstainer, and that he should lead the temperance movement in his congregation. In England the mantle of the Puritans has undoubtedly fallen upon the Nonconformists, and the only fault to be found with a few of the more earnest of them is, that there is a little too much unction in their public and private utterances. This is, however, quite pardonable, for their zeal is beyond question, and in the author’s view they are obtaining even more valuable results from their indirect than from their avowed temperance action, which is always regarded as somewhat professional in its character. Whoever has interested himself in the establishment of social clubs, cocoa-rooms, or British workmen’s public-houses (it is immaterial by what name the reforming institution may be known), is well aware that the men who have made the most sacrifices, who have expended the largest amount of time, thought, and money on the work, who have been the most hopeful in adversity, and the most tenacious in carrying out the project, have been the Nonconformist members of the temperance organisations.[383]

The Church of England is also beginning to be active, and her clergy are coming somewhat tardily to the front, though many of them have long been privately at work in their own parishes. A society has recently been formed under the auspices of that body, “which accepts as members non-abstainers as well as abstainers,” and the objects of which are to promote counter-attractions to the public-house, in the shape of reading-rooms, working men’s clubs, and coffee-rooms.[384] The noble speaker, whose words we have quoted, still adheres to the old temperance principle, believing that in good health men and women can do without spirits, and that they would be much better off with very much less than they now consume. These views may meet with the approbation of the members of the Church of England Society, but we fear they will hardly commend themselves to any of the old-established associations. And yet he does not stand alone in pressing the “temperance” view upon public notice. The greatest statesman of the day, Mr. Gladstone, in speaking at the annual meeting of the “Coffee Tavern Company” in the metropolis, expressed his conviction that drunkenness, which he characterised as a “monster evil,” could not be altogether checked by “heroic remedies,” by which, we presume, he meant legislative measures for the entire suppression of the liquor traffic. And many more of our leading statesmen conscientiously hold that view, although they are doing all in their power by precept and example to diminish the evils of intemperance.

As we find the introduction of tea, coffee, and chocolate to have produced a beneficial effect in Germany, so the author believes that the establishment of such houses as those referred to will eventually prove the most effective agency for the reform of drunkenness in Great Britain. But many of those places must first be reformed themselves before they can accomplish their object. Whitewashed brick walls, deal tables and benches, thin tea and coffee, or thick cocoa, will never compete successfully with crystal chandeliers and “cream of the valley.” The working man must be enticed from the gin-palace by the superior attractions of the cocoa-rooms, and held fast when he is once secured. The opening of museums and art galleries on Sundays, which will be long deferred by the Sabbatarian spirit of the English people, will have a tendency, indirectly, to elevate the lowest classes, especially if the gin-palace, with its counter-attractions, be closed on the day of rest. As potent as any of the agencies named is the spread of national education, and a movement which has recently been set on foot to instil the importance of temperance into the minds of children in Board and other schools, coupled with the action of the existing “Bands of Hope,” will certainly operate to advantage upon the drinking habits of the rising generation.

But all these agencies are at present more or less paralysed by the alliance, already, referred to, between the ruling power of the state and the “drink interest.” It is hardly conceivable that any political party should in the nineteenth century desire to retain its predominance through the corruption of the masses, but the fact is undeniable that the Conservatives, who have always claimed “social reform” as one of the functions of their party, have ranged themselves on the side of the drink-sellers, and have largely availed themselves of the Englishman’s love of his beer, or rather of his spirits, to seize and hold the reins of office. They were allowed to gain that position through the apathy of the people, and as we have had a “Long” Parliament and a “Rump” Parliament, so the present House of Commons will go down to posterity labelled the “Grog Parliament.”

And this brings us once more to the subject of drink legislation. There has been an infinite amount of law-making on the subject of intemperance, but the law-breaking has been equally unlimited. Of all the Acts that have been passed in England, the only one that has produced any visible effect was that of 1872, which reduced the time allowed for the sale of intoxicating drinks about four hours, namely, from twenty-one to an average of seventeen in the twenty-four. It also increased the penalties for the infringement of the law by publicans, for one of its clauses enacted that “any licensed person” who permitted drunkenness, or any violent, quarelsome, or riotous conduct to take place on his premises, or who sells any intoxicating liquor to a drunken person, shall be liable to a penalty not exceeding £10 for the first offence, and not exceeding £20 for any subsequent offence, and any conviction under the section shall be recorded on the license of the person convicted, unless the magistrate or justices shall otherwise direct.[385]

Here it will be seen that two principles were recognised by the Legislature: first, that the opportunities for obtaining drink might, on the score of public policy, be curtailed with advantage, and secondly (as in the United States), that the sober but mercenary publican who supplies the drink is violating the law even more than the miserable drunkard who consumes it. But now let us look at the results which have been obtained from this Act. It was passed in 1872, and for the five years ending 1877 the convictions for drunkenness in Liverpool amounted altogether to 90,339, whilst the whole number of publicans who were convicted for supplying drink contrary to law during the same years was 289, being rather less than one-half of those against whom information was laid by the police.[386] And in London the state of affairs is equally deplorable. In the report of the metropolitan police for 1876, we find the statement that, whilst 32,328 persons were arrested for drunkenness in that year, the convictions against drink-houses amounted to 186. The question which naturally suggests itself when one reads these figures is, where do all those drunken men get the liquor which brings them within the pale of the law? It is right to add that the London report states that the Act of 1872 has enabled the police to close a great number of objectionable houses; still the figures speak for themselves.

And now as to the clauses which refer to the restriction of the hours of sale. Not even the most thorough partisan of the drink interest will deny that the moral effect of those clauses has been very great. For there has been no option. The Act was one for the suppression of the liquor traffic at very unseasonable hours (they are still very unreasonable and unseasonable, for that matter), and, generally speaking, that portion of it has been effectually carried out. The result has been comparative quiet and decency in our streets during the prohibited hours, and a diminution of the worst forms of drunkenness. But the clause for limiting the hours of sale contained provisions which gave some little latitude to the magistrates, and the time of closing and opening was modified to suit the wants and wishes of particular neighbourhoods, the opening hour in some large manufacturing towns, for example, being so regulated as to withdraw temptation from men going to their work. But that did not suit the books of the publicans, and as soon as the present Government came into power, it was found expedient to make the hours “uniform” throughout the country. In other words, the Conservatives threw a “sop to Cerberus,” and extended the hours of opening and closing, so as to increase the profits of the publicans as far as it was practicable without too great an outrage upon public opinion. All parties excepting those who instigated the change objected to it, and the evidence given before the Lords’ Committee shows that it has caused great annoyance and inconvenience to employers of labour, and a material loss of wages expended in morning-drinking and its consequences.[387] The truth is, that the various associations which have been formed throughout the country for the protection of “the trade” saw in this small instalment of “permissive legislation” great cause for alarm, and they accordingly directed all their energies to its repeal.

The same line of policy has been adopted by the present Government whenever it was called upon to decide between the wishes of the community and those of the “trade.” The people of Birmingham desired to adopt a measure resembling that known as the “Gothenburg system,” described elsewhere; the Government thwarted their wishes. A resolution was passed by a large majority of the House of Commons in favour of closing public-houses on Sundays in Ireland, but the Government set the wishes of the House at defiance: and why? Because the necessary sequence of Sunday closing in Ireland and Scotland would be a similar measure in England; and it has only been the fear of grave complications which has at length forced the Government to listen to the demands and give a half-hearted acquiescence to the wishes of the Irish people. Have they not a right to complain that their true interests are sacrificed to the corrupt policy of their neighbours, and to clamour for a larger share in the management of their own affairs?

Nothing indeed could be more clearly defined than the attitude of the two great political parties on the drink question. The whole of the sympathies of the Conservatives (so far, at least, as the Legislature is concerned) are with the drink-sellers, and they have constituted themselves the champions of intemperance. The drink-sellers know this but too well. Quite recently three deputations waited upon the Home Secretary to seek his influence and support. The first two were “drink” deputations, one being from the “Brewers’ Association” of certain northern towns; and the other from the “Licensed Victuallers’ National Defence League.” The first came to ask the Home Secretary to protect them from prosecutions to which they were being subjected for adulterating beer with salt, notoriously one of the chief incentives to drunkenness in this country. The second deputation sought his protection from similar prosecutions for adulterating spirits with water. The Home Secretary told the first deputation that he was sorry he could not interfere, but he volunteered the advice to them to take a case into the High Court of Justice; and as to the second deputation, he not only gave them similar advice, but promised to save them from harassing legislation by putting himself in communication with the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the Inland Revenue upon the subject, with a view to introducing an “Amending Bill!” The third deputation was of a different stamp. It represented the great religious bodies of the Church of England, Nonconformists, and Roman Catholics, headed by a Rev. Canon of very high position, and it was ushered in by several members of Parliament. The object of the deputation was to ask the Government to introduce a bill for closing public-houses in England on the Sunday. The reply of the Home Secretary was that no one was more alive than he to the evils of intemperance (a profession which the author heard him make shortly before he extended the hours of sale), but he added, with unconscious irony, that he “had to look at the matter as one of practical politics and policy, and he considered it would be unwise to promote such a bill.” Of course he refused to do anything, and when one of the members of Parliament present expressed a desire to test the opinion of the House on the subject, he said. “Oh, decidedly: then I should give my own opinion on the subject.”

This is the political attitude of the Conservatives on the question of intemperance, and their social position is much the same. With few exceptions, their public utterances are usually made at Licensed Victuallers’ dinners, and the question of intemperance is treated with great levity; but, on the other hand, the liberal leaders, such as the Duke of Westminster, Earl Granville, Lord Aberdare, Mr. Gladstone, and, it is needless to add, Sir Wilfrid Lawson, are all more or less actively engaged in the crusade against drunkenness.

But irrespective of these party abuses, it is only right to admit there is a conscientious reluctance on the part of a few statesmen and private individuals to interfere with what they consider the liberty of the subject to get drunk when and where he pleases; and there are some who consider that it would be a truly “liberal” policy to allow free trade in drink, so far as to remove all restrictions from the sale, excepting (and here lies the difficulty) such as are necessary for the prevention of crime. As to the “liberal” policy, we are quite at a loss to comprehend it. As we understand the fiscal policy of the Liberals, it has been to remove _all_ obstructions to free trade in those necessaries or luxuries of life which are either produced in or imported into this country, and therefore the mere extension of facilities for the sale of drink is not worth a thought. Such politicians as we have referred to, if they wish to be consistent, ought to agitate for the repeal of all imposts on intoxicating drink, which now swell the revenue, so much to the satisfaction of our Chancellors of the Exchequer, and which save them such a deal of trouble and anxiety.

The fact is, that the Liberal party has a more important platform even than free trade, and that is “Reform” in its most comprehensive sense, and no reform can be accomplished without great inconvenience to individuals. One of the chief articles of food consumed by the poor in every part of the three kingdoms is bacon; and yet when pigstyes became a nuisance in our towns, as “tippling-shops” are pronounced to be in some of the United States, they were mercilessly suppressed, notwithstanding that in so doing the authorities interfered with “the liberty of the subject.” And although a glass of beer is a legitimate indulgence, for it is by no means a necessary of life, yet if in any particular neighbourhood it is found that the existence of gin-palaces has become a public nuisance, and that those places lead to breaches of the law, or to such neglect of social duties on the part of a large number of individuals as to cast unnecessary burdens upon the whole community, it is anything but a “liberal policy” to foster them, or in any way to provide for their continued existence.

Any one who will take the trouble to review the legislation of the last twenty years in connection with sanitary and educational matters must feel convinced that “permissive” legislation in regard to the sale of drink is sure to come sooner or later. That it will be accomplished by the Liberal party there can be little doubt; for whilst the stronghold of the Conservatives has been the protection of all vested interests, and their weakness, distrust of the masses, the Liberal leaders have ever been ready to repose confidence in the people, and, even at the risk of offending powerful supporters whose interests were prejudiced by their action, they have cheerfully accorded to the masses the power and facilities for self-government, and for the reform of national abuses.

At the present time there is no permissive measure before the country, excepting that of Sir Wilfrid Lawson, which, in its inceptive form, proposes to confer upon majorities of two-thirds of the ratepayers in cities, boroughs, parishes, or townships, the power of entirely suppressing the sale of intoxicating drinks, and that bill has been time after time rejected by the House of Commons on the second reading. But then almost every other measure that has been introduced into Parliament for mitigating the evils of drunkenness has met with a similar fate, partly on account of the predominating influence of the publicans, and the fear on the part of members of the House of Commons of giving offence to a formidable body of men who, once at least, have been mainly instrumental in upsetting a Ministry, and also from the apprehension that if such a power as that sought by the bill were granted, it would become the instrument of tyranny and oppression.

But with all deference to the British House of Commons, we venture to think that many of its members have not in this matter maintained the high reputation which they have earned as practical men, and that they are year by year defeating their own aims. The publican power in England is no doubt very real, but it is rendered far more formidable than it would be otherwise through the timidity of those by whom it should be controlled; and that timidity, if it continues, will some day force the members to take part in a reaction, which is sure sooner or later to set in against the drink trade, and which might be greatly diminished in its severity by the exercise of a little timely vigour and determination.

But let us look at the bill itself, and supposing that it became law as it stands at present, what would be its effect upon the community? The reply of objectors is very well known: “It would enable a tyrannical majority in small places to prevent a poor man from getting a glass of beer, whilst it would not preclude the wealthy from keeping a stock of wine or spirits; and in large towns it would be altogether inoperative, as it has been in the United States.” Assuming these to be the real objections to the bill (which they are not), what do they amount to when they are dispassionately considered? Surely no one will deny that there is a great deal of drunkenness even in small towns and country places; and if it would be less difficult to suppress it in such places than in large towns, would it not be a very practical mode of proceeding to win the outworks of intemperance before storming the citadel? It might even at first increase the amount of drunkenness in towns, as it has done in Gothenburg, through the influx of visitors from the country, where no drink could be procured; but that would be a proof of its necessity and a tribute to its efficiency. Has the objection ever been urged against the closing of public-houses in towns at certain hours on Sundays that it compels a few sots to walk miles in search of drink into a neighbouring country parish, where the law is not carried into effect so rigorously on account of the absence of police supervision?

But it would be a waste of time to protract the discussion. To pass a law is one thing, to enforce it rigidly is another; and it may be admitted once for all that it would be to a considerable extent evaded, as the Maine Law has been in America. But we have seen that hitherto, with one partial exception, namely, the limitation of the hours of sale, that has been the fate of all legislation against intemperance. Therefore in that respect the Act would be no worse than its predecessors, and it might be much more successful. On the other hand (still regarding the bill in its inchoate form), it would make the sale of intoxicating drink illegal; and as we are a law-abiding nation, a great many people would give up the trade, and a very considerable number who have hitherto thought it unnecessary to refrain from taking alcohol would feel it to be their duty to become partial or total abstainers. In other words, it would cease to be the fashion to drink and to invite others to do so: it would no longer be necessary for a man to imbibe liquor in order to get on in the world, as it is too frequently the case at present. As soon as the trade itself became illegal, it would, _as it is now conducted_, become very disreputable, and its open encouragement would cease. For it cannot be too frequently repeated that a very large number of respectable and influential men, who would consider it discreditable to keep a public-house themselves, do not hesitate to associate on terms of equality with publicans if they are only in a sufficiently large way of business, and thereby to foster a grave source of national danger.

But suppose the bill were read a second time, which is only an acknowledgment of its principle, does any reflecting reader who has followed the changes in our laws and constitution with ever so little attention, believe for an instant that a real injustice would be permitted against any important section of the community? For, as already stated, no great reform can be accomplished without inconveniencing individuals, who in this case would in all probability be either habitual drunkards, or those who are enriching themselves at their expense. It may be that in the present condition of society the bill aims at too much, and it is quite certain that in its passage through Parliament it would be loaded with safeguards against oppression and the possibility of arbitrary proceedings on the part of total abstainers, by honourable members who would be anxious to prove their devotion to a certain class of their constituents, so that no poor man would be “robbed of his beer,” and no legitimate interests would be sacrificed. For permissive legislation, as we have seen, has been found the most effective in that country where the rights of citizens are the most jealously watched. On the other hand, the official sanction which the bill would give to the cause of temperance would make that cause “diplomatically strong;” and the very prospect of its passing into law would have the effect of greatly diminishing some of the evils, and of entirely sweeping away other existing abuses of which it is intended to be the corrective.

Regarded in this light, then, it is earnestly to be hoped that all classes of our readers will carefully weigh the national importance and value of the so-called “Permissive Bill,” and that when it is next brought before the Legislature, its promoters may succeed in enlisting for it a larger amount of support than it has hitherto enjoyed. At present the real but partially concealed forces which militate against drinking reform are the bitter hostility of an unlawful section of the trade which it would injure, and the disinclination of fiscal administrators to reduce a very material but a very iniquitous item in the public revenue resulting from the traffic. The statesman has yet to stand forward with the courage needful for initiating what will assuredly be the most important moral and financial reformation of our country.