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.