Chapter XI · (continued 2)

We admire his genius; we love the kind nature which appears in all his writings; and we cherish his memory as much as if we had known him personally.[227]

From the social man of letters, we turn to one who moved in a far wider circle; who, in Byron’s opinion, wrote the best comedy, the best opera, the best farce, the best address, and delivered the very best oration ever conceived or heard in this country—Richard Brinsley Sheridan. He, like Lamb, can be judged out of his own mouth. It was he who with piquant humour declared that he could drink with advantage any given quantity of wine. Wine, says his biographer, Tom Moore, was one of his favourite helps to inspiration: ‘If the thought (he would say) is slow to come, a glass of good wine encourages it, and when it does come, a glass of good wine rewards it.’ To the same effect, Leigh Hunt remarks: ‘His table songs are always admirable. When he was drinking wine he was thoroughly in earnest.’ Lady Holland, at whose house Sheridan was a constant guest, told Moore that he used to take a bottle of wine and a book up to bed with him always; the former alone intended for use. He took spirits with his morning tea or coffee, and on his way from Holland House to town, invariably stopped at the old roadside inn, the Adam and Eve, where he ran up a long bill which Lord Holland was left the privilege of paying.

In the very amusing and instructive Reminiscences of Captain Gronow, speaking of Sheridan’s prosperity, the author urges:—

Many of the follies and extravagances that marked the life of this gifted but reckless personage must be attributed to the times in which he existed. Drinking was the fashion of the day. The Prince [Regent], Mr. Pitt, Dundas, the Lord Chancellor Eldon, and many others who gave the tone to society, would, if they now appeared at an evening party, ‘as was their custom of an afternoon,’ be pronounced fit for nothing but bed. A three-bottle man was not an unusual guest at a fashionable table; and the night was invariably spent in drinking bad port wine to an enormous extent.

The same writer observes:—

Drinking and play were more universally indulged in then [about 1814] than at the present time, and many men still living must remember the couple of bottles of port at least which accompanied his dinner in those days.... The dinner-party, commencing at seven or eight, frequently did not break up before one in the morning. There were then four and even five-bottle men; and the only thing that saved them was drinking very slowly, and out of very small glasses. The learned head of the law, Lord Eldon, and his brother Lord Stowell, used to say that they had drunk more bad port than any two men in England; indeed, the former was rather apt to be overtaken, and to speak occasionally somewhat thicker than natural after long and heavy potations. The late Lords Panmure, Dufferin, and Blayney, wonderful to relate, were six-bottle men at this time; and I really think that if the good society of 1815 could appear before their more moderate descendants, in the state they were generally reduced to after dinner, the moderns would pronounce their ancestors fit for nothing but bed.

Sheridan’s success in life, as well as his attachment to party, was mainly owing to his connection with one of whom we shall next speak, viz. Charles James Fox. A few months after his first appointment to office, Walpole went to the House to hear the young orator, and he tells us—

Fox’s abilities are amazing at so very early a period, especially under the circumstances of such a dissolute life. He was just arrived from Newmarket, had sat up drinking all night, and had not been in bed.

More than once is he said to have taken his place in the House of Commons in a state of absolute intoxication.

Mr. George Otto Trevelyan, M.P., gives in his Early History of Charles James Fox a very bad picture of the drinking habits of great men in England at that period.

These were the days when the Duke of Grafton, the Premier, lived openly with Miss Nancy Parsons. Rigby, the Paymaster of the Forces, had only one merit, that he drank fair. He used brandy as the rest of the world used small beer. Lord Weymouth, grandson of Lord Cartaret, had more than his grandfather’s capacity for liquor, and a fair portion of his abilities. He constantly boozed till daylight, even when a Secretary of State. His occasional speeches were extolled by his admirers as preternaturally sagacious, and his severest critics admitted them to be pithy. Walpole made the following smart hit at him: ‘If I paid nobody, and went drunk to bed every morning at six, I might expect to be called out of bed by two in the afternoon to save the nation, and govern the House of Lords by two or three sentences as profound and short as the proverbs of Solomon.’ ‘They tell me, Sir John,’ said George the Third to one of his favourites, ‘that you love a glass of wine.’ ‘Those who have so informed your Majesty,’ was the reply, ‘have done me great injustice; they should have said a bottle.’ ‘Two of the friends of Philip Francis, without any sense of having performed an exceptional feat, finished between them a gallon and a half of Champagne and Burgundy, a debauch which in this unheroic age it almost makes one ill to read of.’

The sobriety of Pitt has been the subject of much debate. Mr. Jeaffreson has well said that free livers delight to attribute their own failings to great people who are free from them. Till Lord Stanhope relieved Pitt’s fame of groundless aspersions of intemperance, it suffered from drunken epigrams, and the idle tales of pot-loving detractors. Of the former, the following is a specimen:—

On folly every fool his talent tries; It needs some toil to imitate the wise; Though few like Fox can speak—like Pitt can think, Yet all like Fox can game—like Pitt can drink.

Perhaps no form of detraction is so insidious as caricature, and Pitt was its sport. The pencil of Gillray was busy in 1788 with a caricature entitled, Market Day—Every Man has His Price. The Ministerial supporters are represented as horned cattle exposed for sale. The scene is laid in Smithfield. At the window of a public-house adjoining appear Pitt and Dundas, a jovial pair drinking and smoking.

Again, when the dearth of 1795 was just beginning, a print by the same Gillray represents a convivial scene at Pitt’s country house. It is entitled, ‘God save the King! in a bumper; or, an Evening Scene three times a Week at Wimbleton.’ Pitt is trying to fill his glass from the wrong end of the bottle, while his companion, grasping pipe and bumper, ejaculates the words, ‘Billy, my boy—all my joy!’

Still there is an element of truth underlying both epigram and burlesque; but, having admitted this, we may assert that his wont formed a contrast to the wild habits of many of his contemporaries, and that with justice he was favourably compared by the Court with the irregularities of Fox and his associates.

Professor Richard Porson was at one time a prominent figure in the Cider Cellars in Covent Garden. It was his nightly haunt. It was there that one of his companions is said to have shouted in his presence, ‘Dick can beat us all; he can drink all night and spout all day.’ This sounds bad, but it must be remembered that Porson had struggled long on the then miserable pittance attached to the Greek Professorship at Cambridge, 40l. a year, and had suddenly obtained the post of head librarian of the London Institution, with a salary increased five-fold. He thus had facilities for indulgence, and with them, possibly for a time, the appetite. An habitual drunkard he was not. Like Johnson, he could practise abstinence more easily than temperance. He lived in days when the leading statesmen and politicians were not ashamed of being seen under the influence of wine, and though Porson has been vilified for his occasional intemperance, it may, without much hesitation, be affirmed that it was his reforming principles in Church and State that brought much of the obloquy upon him.

Thomson, the author of the Seasons, was a convivial man.

Mrs. Hobart, Thomson’s housekeeper, often wished Quin dead, he made her master drink so. He and Quin used to come sometimes from the Castle together at four o’clock in a morning, and not over sober you may be sure. When he was writing in his own house he frequently sat with a bowl of punch before him, and that a good large one too.

The following anecdote is told of him:—

Mr. H. of Bangor said he was once asked to dinner by Thomson, but could not attend. One of his friends who was there told him that there was a general stipulation agreed on by the whole company, that there should be no hard drinking. Thomson acquiesced, only requiring that each man should drink his bottle. The terms were accepted unconditionally, and when the cloth was removed a three-quart bottle was set before each of his guests. Thomson had much of this kind of agreeable humour.

His Autumn came out in 1730, in which occur the lines:—

But first the fuel’d chimney blazes wide; The tankards foam; and the strong table groans Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch’d immense From side to side; in which with desperate knife The deep incision make, and talk the while Of England’s glory, ne’er to be defaced While hence they borrow vigour; or amain Into the pasty plunged at intervals, If stomach keen can intervals allow, Relating all the glories of the chace. Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst Produce the mighty bowl; the mighty bowl, Swell’d high with fiery juice, steams liberal round A potent gale, delicious as the breath Of Mäia to the love-sick shepherdess On violets diffus’d, while soft she hears Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn Mature and perfect from his dark retreat Of thirty years; and now his honest front Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid Even with the vineyard’s best produce to vie. * * * * At last these puling idlenesses laid Aside, frequent and full the dry divan Close in firm circle; and set ardent in For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly, Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch Indulg’d apart; but earnest brimming bowls Lave every soul, the table floating round, And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot. * * * * Before their maudlin eyes Seen dim and blue the double tapers dance, Like the sun wading through the misty sky. Then sliding soft, they drop. Confus’d above Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazeteers, As if the table even itself was drunk, Lie a wet broken scene; and wide below Is heap’d the social slaughter: where astride The lubber Power in filthy triumph sits Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side, And steeps them drench’d in potent sleep till morn. Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink, Outlives them all; and from his buried flock Retiring, full of rumination sad, Laments the weakness of these latter times.

In Autumn, somewhat later, he sings the praises of cider:—

The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue; Thy native theme and boon inspirer too, Phillips, Pomona’s bard, the second thou Who nobly durst in rhyme-unfetter’d verse With British freedom sing the British song; How from Silurian vats high-sparkling wines Foam in transparent floods; some strong to cheer The wintry revels of the labouring hind; And tasteful some to cool the summer hours.

Again, we read a few lines later of the autumnal vintage:—

Round the raised nations pours the cup of joy: The claret smooth, red as the lip we press In sparkling fancy while we drain the bowl; The mellow-tasted Burgundy; and quick As is the wit it gives the gay champagne.

Wordsworth says of the Seasons:—‘Much of it is written from himself.’ Probably this is true.

In 1798 was published a collection of the dramatic works of John O’Keefe. In the following lines from his Poor Soldier occurs a phrase which has become household:—

Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale, From which I now drink to sweet Nan of the Vale, Was once Toby Filpot’s, a thirsty old soul As e’er cracked a bottle or fathomed a bowl.

The allusion is simply to drunken frolics, during which glass was broken. Mr. Oldbuck says in the Antiquary:—‘We never were glass-breakers in this house.’

In 1805 Robert Bloomfield published his rural poem, the Farmer’s Boy. It is a very humorous and suggestive account of the manners of clod-hopping England as engaged about the Harvest-home supper in Suffolk and Norfolk, here entitled the Horkey. This has been already discussed. Suffice it to add that Bloomfield’s charming little provincial ballad, entitled, The Horkey, has been recently published by Macmillan, and is abundantly illustrated.

But of all the marvellous issues from the press at the beginning of the present century, nothing could be more monstrous than the publication of a work entitled ‘Ebrietatis Encomium; or, the Praise of Drunkenness, wherein is authentically and most evidently proved the Necessity of Frequently Getting Drunk; and the Practise is most ancient, primitive, and Catholick.’

The author, not unnaturally, thinks that some apology is needed in his preface. He declares that he did not undertake the work on account of any zeal he had for wine, but only to divert himself(!), and not to lose a great many curious remarks he had made upon this most Catholic liquid.

Verily, ‘nulli vitio unquam defuit advocatus.’ He seems to have hunted up bon-mots, or rather mal-mots from every toping author that was to hand, e.g. he cites Seneca (De Tranquillitate):—‘As drunkenness causes some distempers, so it is a sovereign remedy for our sorrows.’ Propertius—‘Alas! so then wine lives longer than man, let us then sit down and drink bumpers; life and wine are the same thing.’ Horace—‘That nectar which the blessed vines produce, the height of all our joy and wishes here.’ La Motte:—

A l’envi laissons nous saisir, Aux transports d’une douce ivresse: Qu’importe si c’est un plaisir, Que ce soit folie ou sagesse.

These are specimens of the sources from which the author, ‘Boniface Oinophilus’ drew.[228]

But we travel to far other soil.

The poet Cowper [b. 1781, d. 1800], the intellectual ancestor of Wordsworth, has several pictures of his times in his writings.

With a lofty and noble morality does he describe the truly gay:—

Whom call we gay? That honour has been long The boast of mere pretenders to the name. The innocent are gay—the lark is gay, That dries his feathers saturate with dew Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams Of dayspring overshoot his humble nest. The peasant too, a witness of his song, Himself a songster, is as gay as he. But save me from the gaiety of those Whose headaches nail them to a noon-day bed; And save me too from theirs whose haggard eyes Flash desperation, and betray their pangs For property stripp’d off by cruel chance; From gaiety that fills the bones with pain, The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe. The Task, Book I., ‘The Sofa.’

Noble lines these, breathing much of the spirit of Horace’s noble ethics:—

Non possidentem multa vocaveris Recte beatum. Rectius occupat Nomen beati qui deorum Muneribus sapienter uti, Calletque duram pauperiem pati, Pejusque leto flagitium timet. Non ille pro caris amicis, Non patriâ timidus perire.

There was not perhaps much need for our poet to dread the gout:—

Oh may I live exempted (while I live Guiltless of pamper’d appetite obscene), From pangs arthritic, that infest the toe Of libertine Excess! The Task, Book I., ‘The Sofa.’

Certainly not if the following picture was his usual evening condition:—

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And, while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in. The Task, Book IV., ‘The Winter Evening.’

Commenting upon the usual misquotation of this passage, which provincial newspapers make a point of rendering:—‘The cup that cheers’ &c., Cuthbert Bede adds:—

The poet of ‘The Task’ spoke of ‘cups;’ and, it is very evident, from the graphic description of the accompanying urn, that those cups were intended to hold a certain beverage that had been introduced into England about 130 years before ‘The Task’ was written, and which, by those who could afford to purchase it at the high price then demanded for it, was known as ‘Tea.’ It might be urged, with more ingenuity than plausibility, that, as Cowper does not mention the contents of the cups, they, together with the hot water in the loud-hissing urn, might have been used for some of those compounds, familiarly known as ‘Cups.’ Thus, there were ‘cups’ of spiced wine, Claret, Burgundy, Gilliflower sack, Hydromel (which was recommended by Lord Holles to those who abjured wine, and was composed of honey, spring-water, and ginger), Cider, and many kinds of ale and Beer-cups, distinguished by such extraordinary names as Humpty-dumpty, Clamber-clown, Old Pharaoh, Hugmatee, Stitchback, Cock-ale, Three-threads, Mum, and Knock-me-down, which last name is particularly suggestive of the probable result of the toper’s indulgence in a brew of hot ale-cup, in which gin was a leading ingredient.

It is very evident that it could only be a person who was very hard-up for an argument, who could think of framing such an accusation against the abstemious and gentle William Cowper, and who could interpret his ‘cups’ in any other sense than as cups for tea. In fact, the whole passage presents to us a tea-table scene; and, as we read it, we can see the comfortable parlour at Olney, the curtains closely drawn—in that respect very sensibly differing from

‘The half-uncurtain’d window,’

mentioned in the winter-evening’s scene, in Campbell’s ‘Pleasures of Hope’—with the bubbling urn, containing, possibly, the tea already made, or else ready to contribute its boiling stream to the tea-pot.

But this sort of evening was not the usual evening in England in 1785. Much more frequently was the evening spent in what our poet himself calls ‘the quenchless thirst of ruinous ebriety,’ and describes in the following lines (Task, lib. iv.):—

Pass where we may, through city or through town, Village or hamlet of this merry land, Though lean and beggar’d, every twentieth pace Conducts the unguarded nose to such a whiff Of stale debauch, forth issuing from the styes That Law has licensed, as makes Temperance reel. There sit, involved and lost in curling clouds Of Indian fume, and guzzling deep, the boor, The lackey, and the groom: the craftsman there Takes a Lethean leave of all his toil; Smith, cobbler, joiner, he that plies the shears, And he that kneads the dough; all aloud alike, All learned, and all drunk! the fiddle screams Plaintive and piteous, as it wept and wail’d Its wasted tones and harmony unheard. * * * * ‘Tis here they learn The road that leads from competence and peace To indigence and rapine; till at last Society, grown weary of the load, Shakes her encumber’d lap, and casts them out. But censure profits little: vain the attempt To advertise in verse a public pest That, like the filth with which the peasant feeds His hungry acres, stinks and is of use. The excise is fatten’d with the rich result Of all this riot: and ten thousand casks For ever dribbling out their base contents, Touch’d by the Midas finger of the State, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. Drink and be mad then; ‘tis your country bids! Gloriously drunk obey the important call! Her cause demands the assistance of your throats Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more.

Towards the end of the progress of error is the sage advice:—

With caution taste the sweet Circæan cup; He that sips often at last drinks it up. Habits are soon assumed, but when we strive To strip them off ‘tis being flayed alive. Call’d to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right.

Finally, an admirable moral is contained in the lines:—

Pleasure admitted in undue degree Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free. ‘Tis not alone the grape’s enticing juice Unnerves the moral powers, and mars their use; Ambition, avarice, and the lust of fame, And woman, lovely woman, does the same.

Wordsworth was a most abstemious man. He and his wife drank water, and ate the simplest fare. When Scott stayed with him at Rydal Mount, he had to hie him to the nearest public-house not unfrequently.

Myers has observed, in his monograph on the poet in English Men of Letters:—

The poet of the Waggoner—who, himself an habitual water-drinker, has so glowingly described the glorification which the prospect of nature receives in a half-intoxicated brain—may justly claim that he can enter into all genuine pleasures, even of an order which he declines for himself. With anything that is false or artificial he cannot sympathise, nor with such faults as baseness, cruelty, rancour, which seem contrary to human nature itself; but in dealing with faults of mere weakness he is far less strait-laced than many less virtuous men.

His comment on Burns’ Tam o’ Shanter will perhaps surprise some readers who are accustomed to think of him only in his didactic attitude.

Wordsworth’s Criticism.

... Who, but some impenetrable dunce or narrow-minded puritan in works of art, ever read without delight the picture which Burns has drawn of the convivial exaltation of the rustic adventurer Tam o’ Shanter? The poet fears not to tell the reader in the outset that his hero was a desperate and sottish drunkard, whose excesses were as frequent as his opportunities. This reprobate sits down to his cups while the storm is roaring, and heaven and earth are in confusion; the night is driven on by song and tumultuous noise, laughter and jest thicken as the beverage improves upon the palate—conjugal fidelity archly bends to the service of general benevolence—selfishness is not absent, but wearing the mask of social cordiality; and while these various elements of humanity are blended into one proud and happy composition of elated spirits, the anger of the tempest without doors only heightens and sets off the enjoyment within. I pity him who cannot perceive that in all this, though there was no moral purpose, there is a moral effect.

‘Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O’er a’ the ills of life victorious.’

What a lesson do these words convey of charitable indulgence for the vicious habits of the principal actor in the scene, and of those who resemble him! Men who to the rigidly virtuous are objects almost of loathing, and whom therefore they cannot serve! The poet, penetrating the unsightly and disgusting surfaces of things, has unveiled with exquisite skill the finer ties of imagination and feeling that often bind these beings to practices productive of so much unhappiness to themselves, and to those whom it is their duty to cherish; and, as far as he puts the reader into possession of this intelligent sympathy, he qualifies him for exercising a salutary influence over the minds of those who are thus deplorably enslaved.

The poet Southey’s opinion of the ale-house, versus the home, is as true of our own times as his own:—

For the labouring man the ale-house is too often a place of unmingled evil; where, while he is single, he squanders the money which ought to be laid up as a provision for marriage or old age; and where, if he frequent it after he is married, he commits the far heavier sin of spending, for his own selfish gratification, the earnings upon which the woman and children whom he has rendered dependent upon him have the strongest of all claims.

Of the drink itself he writes:—

But Thalaba took not the draught, For right he knew the Prophet had forbidden That beverage, the mother of sins; Nor did the urgent guests Proffer the second time the liquid fire, For in the youth’s strong eye they saw No movable resolve.

William Playfair, the famous political economist, wrote in 1805 his Enquiry into the Permanent Causes of the Decline and Fall of Powerful and Wealthy Nations. He has some striking remarks upon the bearing of revenue upon the drink traffic:—

When a nation becomes the slave of its revenue, and sacrifices everything to that object, abuses that favour revenue are difficult to reform; but surely it would be well to take some mode to prevent the facility with which people get drunk, and the temptation that is laid to do so. The immense number of public-houses, and the way in which they give credit, are undoubtedly, in part, causes of this evil. It would be easy to lessen the number, without hurting liberty, and it would be no injustice if publicans were prevented from legal recovery for beer or spirits consumed in their houses, in the same manner that payment cannot be enforced of any person under twenty-one years of age, unless for necessaries. There could be no hardship in this, and it would produce a great reform in the manners of the lower orders. There are only three modes of teaching youth the way to well-doing—by precept, by example, and by habit at an early age. Precept, without example and habit, has but little weight, yet how can a child have either of these, if the parents are encouraged and assisted in living a vicious life? Nations and individuals should guard against those vices to which they find they have a natural disposition; and drinking and gluttony are the vices to which the common people in this country are the most addicted.

We now pass to some of the political action of the reign. In 1768, Sir Francis Dashwood, Chancellor of the Exchequer, proposed a new tax on cider and perry, amounting to ten shillings on the hogshead. Earl Stanhope states that the outcry was so vehement that a modification of the scheme was all that was granted, and four shillings were to be paid by the grower. In the Upper House the Bill was also strongly opposed, but the Ministry carried the point. Bute incurred much odium. People compared the rash disregard of popular opinion with which this measure was pushed through with the conduct of Sir Robert Walpole, who had bowed to the public demonstrations against his system of excise; and when Bute’s resignation was announced many ascribed his retreat to the alarm raised by the popular indignation. A caricature entitled, The Roasted Exciseman; or, the Jack Boot’s exit, represents the enraged mob burning the effigy of a Scotchman suspended on a gallows; a great worn boot lies on the bonfire, into which a man is throwing an excised cider barrel as fuel.

The City of London presented a petition against the tax at the bar of the House of Commons, but to no effect; and in the cider counties it was found hard indeed to enforce the duties imposed.

One of many lachrymations was Benjamin Heath’s The Case of the County of Devon, 1763. An address to honest English hearts, being an honest countryman’s reflections on the cider tax, 1763. Some plain reasons for the repeal of the cider tax, dedicated to every man who pays taxes, and particularly to the Honourable G—— J——, M.P. for Norfolk, &c., 1763. An address to the electors, such as are not makers of cider and perry, 1787.

The tax on beer, too, early in the reign, had greatly exasperated the mob. The Royal Magazine tells that while their Majesties were at Drury Lane Theatre, to see the Winter’s Tale, as Garrick was repeating the lines:—

‘For you, my hearts of oak, for your regale, Here’s good old English stingo, mild and stale,’

a fellow cried out of the gallery: ‘At threepence a pot, Master Garrick, or confusion to the brewers!’

Imposts on malt were continually brought forward. The brewers as well as their clients were wild. Mr. Whitbread inveighed on one occasion against the Ministers for laying a war tax upon malt. Sheridan, who was present, could not resist a shy at the brewer. He wrote on a paper the following lines, and handed them to Mr. Whitbread across the table:—

They’ve raised the price of table drink; What is the reason, do you think? The tax on malt’s the cause I hear— But what has malt to do with beer?

In 1791, the House of Commons was again induced to consider the question, and a committee came to the resolution: ‘That the number of persons empowered to retail spirits should be greatly diminished,’ &c. Certain Acts were passed, encouraging the rival trade of the brewers. Grocers were prohibited from selling drams in their shops, &c. The Speaker of the House, in his speech at the bar of the Lords, March, 1795, and in an address delivered on presenting the Bills of Supply, which received the unanimous thanks of the Lower House, thus referred to the excellent result of even these small measures, and at the same time enunciated a pregnant political truth. After alluding to the increased prosperity and resources of the country, and to some measures for decreasing the sale of spirits, he observes: ‘Satisfied, however, that those resources and that prosperity cannot be permanent without an effectual attention to the sobriety of the people, their morals and peaceable subordination to the laws, they have, by an arrangement of duties which promises also an increase of revenue, relieved the brewing [trade] from all restriction of taxes, so as to give it a decided advantage over the distilling, and thereby discourage the too frequent and immoderate use of spirituous liquors, a measure which must conduce to sobriety, tranquillity, and content, and under which the people, encouraged in regular industry, and the consequent acquisition of wealth, must feel the blessings,’ &c., of good government.

Under the dark days that followed, from 1795 to 1800—days of rebellion at home and revolution abroad—this subject was lost sight of, unhappily for the interests of all. The Acts which had initiated so much good, were allowed to expire, discouragement to the use of spirits ceased, grocers were again allowed to dispense the drug to women and families, and debauchery rioted and revelled as before.[229]

In 1796, among the next taxes introduced, was an additional duty of twenty pounds per butt on wine. Discontent ensued. Pitt’s alleged propensity furnished the material for satire. Gillray represented him under the character of Bacchus, and his friend Dundas under that of Silenus, in a caricature entitled The Wine Duty, or the Triumph of Bacchus and Silenus. John Bull, with empty bottle and empty purse, and with long face, addresses his remonstrance: ‘Pray, Mr. Bacchus, have a bit of consideration for old John; you know as how I’ve emptied my purse already for you, and it’s woundedly hard to raise the price of a drop of comfort, now that one’s got no money left for to pay for it!’

Among the taxes of 1799 was one upon beer, which would have the effect of raising the price of porter to fourpence the pot, and which would most affect the working classes. The Tory satirists pretended to sympathise most with the Whig Dr. Parr, a great porter drinker. Gillray published a sketch of the supposed Effusions of a Pot of Porter, or ‘ministerial conjurations for supporting the war, as lately discovered by Dr. P——r, in the froth and fumes of his favourite beverage.’ A pot of four-penny is placed on a stool, from the froth of which arises Pitt, mounted on the white horse, brandishing a flaming sword. The Doctor’s reverie is a satire on the innumerable mischiefs which popular clamour laid to the charge of the Minister:—

Fourpence a pot for porter! Mercy upon us! Ah! it’s all owing to the war, &c. Have not they ruined the harvest? Have not they blighted all the hops?

Wine was manufactured in England at this period. Sir Richard Worsley tried the experiment of an English vineyard. He planted the most hardy species of vine in a rocky soil at St. Lawrence, Isle of Wight, and engaged a French vine-dresser. He achieved a success, but only temporary. He abandoned the project. A certain Mr. Hamilton attempted the same at Painshill, on a soil of gravelly sand. His first attempt at red wine failed. He then turned his attention to white wine, in which he tells Sir E. Barry, the experiment surpassed his most sanguine expectations. Many good judges thought it better than any champagne they had ever drunk. Such an experience was certainly exceptional.

Faulkner (Antiquities of Kensington) quotes the following memorandum from the MS. notes of Peter Collinson:—

October 18, 1765.—I went to see Mr. Roger’s vineyards at Parson’s Green [at Fulham], all of Burgundy grapes, and seemingly all perfectly ripe; I did not see a green, half-ripe grape in all this quantity. He does not expect to make less than fourteen hogsheads of wine. The branches and fruit are remarkably large, and the wine very strong.

George IV. was born in 1770, and came to the throne in 1820. Intemperance, amidst other vices, was a feature of his moral career. The surroundings of his birth augured ill. Mrs. Draper, who attended the Queen with her two first children, was dismissed from her duties in consequence of her habitual inebriety. His proclivity very nearly cost him dear while yet a youth. At a dinner party at Lord Chesterfield’s house at Blackheath, the whole company drank to excess, and betook themselves to riotous frolic. One of the party let loose a big fierce dog, which at once flew at one of the footmen, tore one of his arms terribly, and nearly strangled a horse. The whole party now formed themselves into a compact body and assailed Towzer, who resolutely defended himself, and had just caught hold of the skirts of the coat of his Royal Highness, when one of the party by a blow on the head felled the dog to the ground. In the confusion, however, the Earl of Chesterfield fell down the steps leading to his house, and severely injured the back of his head. The Prince, who scarcely knew whether he had been fighting a dog or a man, jumped into his phaeton, and there fell asleep, leaving the reins to his uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, who took him safely to town.[230]

The Prince was a member of the Catch and Glee Club at the Thatched House Tavern. He is (says Huish) the reputed author of the second verse to the glee of the Happy Fellow, ‘I’ll ne’er,’ &c.; and of the additional verse to the song, ‘By the gaily circling glass,’ which he used to sing in his convivial moments with great effect. Nothing more distinctly points to the ineradicable nature of his diseased habit, than his conduct upon the arrival of his bride-elect—Caroline of Brunswick. Lord Malmesbury, the sole witness, tells the story:—

I ... introduced the Princess Caroline to him. She very properly attempted to kneel to him. He raised her (gracefully enough) and embraced her, said barely one word, turned round, retired to a distant part of the apartment, and, calling me to him, said: ‘Harris, I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy.’ I said: ‘Sir, had you not better have a glass of water?’ upon which he, much out of humour, said with an oath: ‘No; I will go directly to the Queen.’

The remark of the princess to Malmesbury, was: ‘Mon Dieu, est-ce que le Prince est toujours comme cela?’

Lord Holland has stated that at the wedding the Prince had drunk so much brandy, that he could scarcely be kept upright between two dukes. The reckless extravagance of the Prince involved him in pecuniary straights:—

Not a farthing could be raised on the responsibility of any of his immediate associates; the whole of the party were actually in a state of the deepest poverty; and Major Hanger, in the history of his life, mentions a circumstance in which he, Sheridan, Fox, an illustrious individual, and a Mr. Berkeley, repaired to a celebrated tavern then known by the name of the Staffordshire Arms, where after carousing with some dashing Cyprians who were sent for on the occasion, the combined resources of the whole of the party could not defray the expenses of the evening. On this occasion, Sheridan got so intoxicated that he was put to bed, and on awakening in the morning, he found himself in the character of a hostage for the expenses of the previous night’s debauch.[231]

It must, however, be admitted, that when once upon the throne, he had the rare capability of uniting dignity with hilarity. An incident in connection with a public toast is worthy of narration. When the King visited Scotland, a banquet was given by the Lord Provost of Edinburgh in the Parliament House. The King, in returning thanks for the reception given him, said:—

I take this opportunity, my Lords and Gentlemen, of proposing the health of the Lord Provost, Sir William Arbuthnot, Baronet, and the Corporation of Edinburgh.

Thus did the King confer the baronetcy upon the president. A complication of disease terminated his reign in 1880.

The Public-house Regulation Act of 1758 was in force till 1828, when a consolidating Act was passed, with an appeal to justices in quarter sessions.

Its chief provisions are:—

1. Licences to be granted only from year to year, at a special session of magistrates; with power of applicant to appeal to the quarter sessions in case of refusal of licence: and the refusing justices not to vote there.

2. Applicants for licence to affix notice of their intention of applying, on the door of the house, and of the church of the parish in which it is situated, for three prior Sundays, and serve a copy on one of the overseers and one of the peace officers.

3. In case of actual or apprehended tumult, two justices may direct the publican to close his house: disobedience to be esteemed as disorder.

4. The licence stipulates that the publican shall not adulterate his liquors, or allow drunkenness, gaming, or disorder; that he shall not suffer persons of notoriously bad character to assemble therein; and that he shall not, save to travellers, open his house during Divine Service on Sundays and holy-days.

5. Heavy and increasing penalties for repeated offences against the terms and tenor of the licence; magistrates at sessions being empowered to punish an alehouse-keeper, convicted by a jury of a third offence, by a fine of 100l., or to adjudge the licence to be forfeited.

The Distillery Act of 1825 requires notice.

By the enactment of 1825, no person can obtain a licence for conducting a distillery, unless he occupies a tenement of the value of 20l. a year, pays parish rates, and resides within a quarter of a mile of a market town containing 500 inhabited houses. Before obtaining a licence, the amount of which is 10l., he must lodge with the collector, or other officer of excise, an entry or registry of his premises, the several apartments and utensils, specifying the contents of the vessels and the purposes for which they are intended; and every such room and utensil must be properly labelled with its appropriate name and object. With the registry must be delivered a drawing, or description of the construction, use, and course of every fixed pipe in the distillery, as well as of all casks and communications therewith connected. Pipes for the conveyance of worts or wash must be painted red, those for low wines or feints, blue; those for spirits, white; for water, black. No still can be licensed of a less content than 400 gallons, nor can the distiller make spirits at the same time from different materials. The distiller must give notice of the gravity at which he intends to make his wort. These are specimens only of the conditions imposed. Before this enactment, distillation was confined to a few capitalists; but, with a view of encouraging a fair competition in the trade, and inducing the people to take the spirits directly from the distillers, the Act was passed.

The drink temperature was maintained throughout all classes of society. Charles Knight gives an apt description of a Christmas in London in 1824:—

The out-door aspects of London enjoyment at Christmas were not unobserved by me. Honestly to speak, it was a dismal spectacle. In every broad thoroughfare, and in every close alley, there was drunkenness abroad; not shamefaced drunkenness, creeping in maudlin helplessness to its home by the side of the scolding wife, but rampant, insolent, outrageous drunkenness. No decent woman even in broad daylight could at the holiday seasons dare to walk alone in the Strand or Pall Mall.

The stronger spirituous liquors were all the rage; and it was under the impression that by making beer, &c., more readily accessible, there would be less demand for the fire-water, that the Beerhouse Act was passed, of which we shall soon speak. But before doing so, let us recall the names of one or two who ranged themselves on the side of temperance.

James Montgomery writes:—

Many might be profited by the resolute perusal of the ‘Confessions of an Opium Eater’ with self-application, for every habitual indulgence of appetite beyond what nature requires or will endure for the health of body or mind is a species of opium-eating. Such cordials, exhilaratives, and stimulants are generally, in the first instance, resorted to as lenitives of pain, reliefs from languor, or resources in idleness; they soon become necessary gratifications, affording little either of pleasure or of pain in the use (though non-indulgence is misery) till in the sequel they grow into tyrannous excesses that exhaust the animal spirits, debilitate the mind, and consume the frame with disease which no medicine can reach. The drunkard in this sense is an opium-eater; he puts an ‘enemy into his mouth that steals away his senses,’ and the fool’s paradise, into which liquor transports him, lies on ‘the broad way that leadeth to destruction.’ The snuff taker and the tobacco smoker in this sense are opium-eaters; these luxuries, as well as eating and drinking, may be enjoyed in moderation, but where does moderation end and abuse begin? That fine line of distinction was never yet traced with assurance, and the only safety lies many a league on the right side of it. The Indian weed may be less promptly deleterious than the Asiatic, but in this country it is scarcely a question that the former destroys more victims than the latter.

Sydney Smith writes thus to Lady Holland, in 1828:—

Many thanks for your kind anxiety respecting my health. I not only was never better, but never half so well; indeed, I find I have been very ill all my life, without knowing it. Let me state some of the goods arising from abstaining from all fermented liquors. First, sweet sleep; having never known what sweet sleep was, I sleep like a baby or a plough-boy. If I wake, no needless terrors, no black visions of life, but pleasing hopes and pleasing recollections: Holland House, past and to come! If I dream, it is not of lions and tigers, but of Easter dues and tithes. Secondly, I can take longer walks, and make greater exertions, without fatigue. My understanding is improved, and I comprehend political economy, I see better without wine and spectacles than when I used both. Only one evil ensues from it: I am in such extravagant spirits that I must lose blood, or look out for some one who will bore or depress me. Pray leave off wine:—the stomach is quite at rest; no heartburn, no pain, no distention.

In 1824 Carolina Nairne, née Carolina Oliphant, became Baroness Nairne, her husband, Major Nairne, being restored to a barony granted to his family in the time of Charles I.

She appears to be the first writer of a thorough teetotal song. It was entitled Haud ye frae the cogie.

There’s cauld kail in Aberdeen, There’s custocks in Stra’bogie; And morn and e’en they’re blythe and bein That haud them frae the cogie. Now haud ye frae the cogie, lads: Oh, bide ye frae the cogie! I’ll tell ye true, ye’ll never rue O’ passin by the cogie. Young Will was braw and weel put on, Sae blythe was he and vogie; And he got bonnie Mary Don, The flower o’ a’ Stra’bogie. Wha wad ha’e thocht at wooin’ time, He’d e’er forsaken Mary, And ta’en him to the tipplin’ trade Wi’ boozin’ Rob and Harry? Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat, She scarce could lift the ladle; Wi’ pithless feet, ‘tween ilka greet, She’d rock the borrow’d cradle. Her weddin’ plenishin’ was gane— She never thocht to borrow; Her bonnie face was waxin’ wan— And Will wrought a’ the sorrow. He’s reelin’ hame ae winter’s nicht, Some later than the gloamin’; He’s ta’en the rig, he’s missed the brig, And Bogie’s o’er him foamin’. Wi’ broken banes, out ower the stanes, He creepit up Stra’bogie, And a’ the nicht he prayed wi’ micht To keep him frae the cogie. Now Mary’s heart is light again— She’s neither sick nor silly; For auld or young, nae sinfu’ tongue Could e’er entice her Willie; And aye her sang through Bogie rang— ‘O haud ye frae the cogie; The weary gill’s the sairest ill On braes o’ fair Stra’bogie.’

King William IV. (1830-1837) rigidly practised temperance. Indeed he zealously promoted it before his accession to the throne. One incident may serve as an illustration. On the death of the keeper of Bushy Park, the King, then Duke of Clarence, appointed the keeper’s son to succeed him. This young man broke his leg, a circumstance which elicited the practical sympathy of the Duke. After his recovery, the young man took to drinking; so the Duke, in order to cure him of the propensity, required his attendance every night at eight o’clock, and if he appeared in liquor reprimanded him the following morning. But all to no purpose. The infatuated keeper died from the effects of intemperance.

The King however was fond of giving toasts after dinner, when his prosy speeches were notorious.

The following specimen of toasts at a public banquet is taken from that given on the occasion of the opening of London Bridge.

As soon as the royal visitors had concluded their repast, the Lord Mayor rose, and said: ‘His most gracious Majesty has condescended to permit me to propose a toast. I therefore do myself the high honour to propose that we drink His Most Gracious Majesty’s Health, with four times four.’ The company rose, and, after cheering him in the most enthusiastic manner, sang the national anthem of ‘God save the King.’ His Majesty bowed to all around, and appeared to be much pleased.

Alderman Sir Claudius Hunter then rose, and said: ‘I am honoured with the permission of his Majesty to propose a toast. I therefore beg all his good subjects here assembled to rise, and to drink that ‘Health and every Blessing may attend Her Majesty the Queen.’’ Which was accordingly done, with the utmost enthusiasm.

The Lord Mayor then presented a gold cup, of great beauty, to the King, who said, taking the cup: ‘I cannot but refer, on this occasion, to the great work which has been accomplished by the citizens of London. The City of London has been renowned for its magnificent improvements, and we are now commemorating a most extraordinary instance of their skill and talent. I shall propose the source from whence this vast improvement sprung, ‘The Trade and Commerce of the City of London.’’

The King then drank what is called the ‘loving cup,’ of which every other member of the Royal Family present most cordially partook.

His Majesty next drank the health of the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, for which his lordship, in a few words, expressive of the deepest gratitude, thanked his Majesty. The chief magistrate soon after was created a Baronet.

Prominent amongst the legislative beacons of the present century is the famous Beer Act of 1830. Spirit drinking was terrible; a remedy was sought; the expedient adopted was the Beer Act.

At the Middlesex Sessions, held on Thursday, January 21, 1830, Mr. Serjeant Bell alluded to the increase of the consumption of gin as a dreadful and horrible evil. A year ago there were 825 inmates in the Middlesex Pauper Hospital, but now the number was between 1,100 and 1,200, the increase being mainly attributable to the practice of gin drinking. Sir George Hampson said that the gin-shops were now decorated and fitted up with small private doors, through which women of the middle, and even above the middle classes of society, were not ashamed to enter, and take their dram, when they found they could do so unobserved. Sir Richard Birnie bore testimony to the dreadful prevalence of drunkenness in the Metropolis: there were 72 cases brought to Bow Street on the Monday previous, for absolute and beastly drunkenness, and what was worse, mostly women, who had been picked up in the streets, where they had fallen dead drunk: but while he deplored the enormity of the evil, he declared that it was difficult to find any remedy for it.

Hoping to do good by substituting beer for spirits, an Act was passed in the 1st Will. IV., ‘to permit the general sale of beer and cider by retail in England.’ The following are its main provisions:—

1. That any householder desirous of selling malt-liquor, by retail, in any house, may obtain an excise licence on payment of two guineas, and for cider only, on paying one guinea.

2. That a list of such licences shall be kept at the Excise office, open to the inspection of the magistrates.

3. That the applicant must give a bond, and find surety for the payment of penalties incurred.

4. Penalty for vending wine and spirits, 20l.

5. In case of riot, magistrates can command the closing of the houses.

6. Penalties for disorderly conducting of the house.

7. Not to open before four a.m., and to close at ten p.m., and during Divine Service on Sundays and holy-days.

How did it work? How did it operate upon the consumption (1) of beer, (2) of spirits? During the ten years preceding the passing of the Beerhouse Act, the quantity of malt used for brewing was 268,139,389 bushels: during the ten years immediately succeeding, the quantity was 344,143,550 bushels, showing an increase of 28 per cent. During the ten years 1821-1830, the quantity of British spirits consumed was 57,970,963 gallons, and during the next ten years it rose to 76,797,365 gallons, an increase of 32 per cent. All this clearly proved that the increased facilities for getting beer created a greater demand for spirits. During the year following the Act, more than 30,000 beer-shops were opened in England and Wales. In Sheffield, as one instance, 300 beer-shops were added to the old complement of public-houses; and it is especially to be noted that before the second year had transpired, 110 of the keepers of these houses had applied for spirit licences to satisfy the desire for ardent drinks.

On the motion of the Marquis of Chandos, April 18, 1833, it was ordered in the House of Commons ‘That a select committee be appointed to inquire into the state and management of houses in which beer is sold by retail under the Act 1st Will. IV., cap. 64, commonly called beer-shops, and with a view to making such alterations in the law as may tend to their better regulation, and to report their observations, together with their opinion thereon.’ Thirty-two members were appointed as the committee, and April 22, ten others were added to it. The committee sat April 24, 26, 30, May 1, 3, 7, 8, 10, 14, 15, 17, 20, 21, 22, 24. The witnesses examined were in number 59, among whom were A. Magendie, late Assistant Poor Law Commissioner: A. Crowley (brewer of Alton), magistrates, magistrates’ clerks, beer-sellers, farmers and others. The Marquis of Chandos presided at most of the sittings of the committee. The committee’s report, dated June 21, 1833, contains fifteen resolutions, of which the first was:—‘That it is the opinion of the committee from the evidence that has been adduced that considerable evils have arisen from the present management and conduct of beer-houses.’ The other resolutions expressed the committee’s opinion that every applicant should produce a certificate of good character signed by six rated inhabitants of the parish or township (not beer-sellers)—the certificate to be signed by the overseer or assistant overseer, as a proof that the six persons named were rated inhabitants; that, besides other penalties, magistrates should be able on a second conviction to suspend licences for two years or less—a third offence to involve a disqualification for three years; that beer-houses should be closed till half-past twelve on Sunday, that the hours of keeping open at night should be extended in towns and restricted in country districts; and in the last resolution the committee ‘suggest the revisal of the system under which all beer and spirit shops are licensed, and (without expressing a decisive opinion on this extensive subject) your committee feel that very serious reasons of justice and public advantage may be adduced in favour of the assimilation of all the regulations as to hours and management to which every description of house licensed to sell beer or spirituous liquors by retail should be subjected.’ No legislation was superinduced upon this report.[232]

In 1834 Mr. Buckingham moved ‘that a select committee be appointed to inquire into the extent, causes, and consequences of the prevailing vice of intoxication among the labouring classes of the United Kingdom, in order to ascertain whether any legislative measures can be devised to prevent the further spread of so great a national evil.’

This committee, composed of some of the most eminent members of the House, including the late Sir Robert Peel, sat for upwards of twenty-one days receiving evidence. The official report tendered a number of recommendations for repressing the manufacture, importation, and sale of alcoholic liquors, showing that this national disease of drunkenness stood in need of sharp and speedy remedies; and that the administration of these remedies was clearly within the province of the Legislature.

The report is much too long for transcription; but the principles they lay down are worthy of all acceptation.

(1) That the right of legislative interference for the correction of any evil which affects the public weal, cannot be questioned.

(2) That the power to apply correction by legislative means cannot be doubted, without supposing the better portion of the community unable to control the excesses of the ignorant and disorderly, which would be to declare our incapacity to maintain the first principles of government by ensuring the public safety.

(3) That the sound policy of applying legislative power to direct, restrain, or punish the vicious propensities of the evil disposed, cannot be disputed, without invalidating the right of government to protect the innocent from the violence of the guilty, which would in effect declare all government to be useless; an admission that would undermine the very first principles of society.

Then follow what they propose as:—

Immediate Remedies, Legislative and Moral.

The separation of the houses in which intoxicating drinks are sold in four distinct classes. (1) Houses for the sale of beer only—not to be consumed on the premises. (2) Houses for the sale of beer only—to be consumed on the premises, and in which refreshments of food may also be obtained. (3) Houses for the sale of spirits only—not to be consumed on the premises. (4) Houses for the accommodation of strangers and travellers, where bed and board may be obtained, and in which spirits, wine, and beer may all be sold.

The limiting the number of such houses, of each class, in proportion to population in towns, and to distances and population in country districts: the licences for each to be annual, and granted by magistrates and municipal authorities rather than by the excise; to be chargeable with larger sums annually than are now paid for them, especially for the sale of spirits; and the keepers of such houses to be subject to progressively increasing fines for disorderly conduct, and forfeiture of licence and closing up of the houses for repeated offences.

The closing of all such houses at earlier hours than at present, and for the most part uniformly with each other. The first and second classes of houses, in which beer only is sold, to be closed on Sunday, except for one hour, afternoon and evening; the third class of houses, where spirits only are sold, to be entirely closed all Sunday; and the fourth class, as inns or hotels, to be closed to all visitors that day, save only travellers and inmates.

The making all retail spirit-shops as open to public view as provision shops.

The refusal of retail spirit licences to all but those who would engage to confine themselves exclusively to dealing in that article: and consequently the entire separation of the retail sale of spirits from groceries, provisions, wine or beer, except only in inns.

The discontinuance of all issues of ardent spirits (except medicinal) to the navy and army, &c., and the substitution of articles of wholesome nutriment. The abolition of all garrison and barrack canteens, and the substitution of some other and better mode of filling up the leisure of men confined within military forts and lines: the opinions of most of the military officers examined on this point by your Committee being that the drinking in such canteens is the most fertile source of all insubordination, crime, and consequent punishment inflicted on the men.

The withholding from the ships employed in the merchant service the drawback granted to them on foreign spirits, by which they are now enabled to ship their supplies of that article at a reduced scale of duty, and are thus induced to take on board a greater quantity than is necessary, to the increased danger of the property embarked, and to the injury of the crew. The prohibition of the practice of paying the wages of workmen at public-houses, or any other place where intoxicating drinks are sold.

The providing for the payment of such wages to every individual his exact amount, except when combined in families: so as to render it unnecessary for men to frequent the public-houses, and spend a portion of their earnings to obtain change.

The payment of wages at or before the breakfast hour in the mornings of the principal market-day in each town, to enable the wives or other providers of workmen to lay out their earnings in necessary provisions at an early period of the market, instead of risking its dissipation at night in the public-house.

The prohibition of the meetings of all friendly societies, sick clubs, money clubs, masonic lodges, or any other permanent associations of mutual benefit and relief at public-houses, or places where intoxicating drinks are sold; as such institutions, when not formed expressly for the benefit of such public-houses, and when they are bonâ fide associations of mutual help in the time of need, can, with far more economy and much greater efficacy, rent and occupy for their periodical meetings equally appropriate rooms in other places.

The establishment, by the joint aid of the Government and the local authorities and residents on the spot, of public walks, and gardens, or open spaces for athletic and healthy exercises in the open air, in the immediate vicinity of every town, of an extent, and character adapted to its population; and of district and parish libraries, museums, and reading rooms, accessible at the lowest rate of charge; so as to admit of one or the other being visited in any weather, and at any time; with the rigid exclusion of all intoxicating drinks of every kind from all such places, whether in the open air or closed.

The reduction of the duty on tea, coffee, and sugar, and all the healthy and unintoxicating articles of drink in ordinary use; so as to place within the reach of all classes the least injurious beverages on much cheaper terms than the most destructive.

The encouragement of Temperance Societies in every town and village of the kingdom, the only bond of association being a voluntary engagement to abstain from the use of ardent spirits as a customary drink, and to discourage, by precept and example, all habits of intemperance in themselves and others.

The diffusion of sound information as to the extensive evils produced to individuals and to the State, by the use of any beverage that destroys the health, cripples the industry, and poisons the morals of its victims.

The institution of every subordinate auxiliary means of promoting the reformation of all such usages, courtesies, habits and customs of the people, as lead to intemperate habits; more especially the exclusion of ardent spirits from all places where large numbers are congregated either for business or pleasure, and the changing the current opinion of such spirits being wholesome and beneficial (which the frequent practice of our offering them to those whom we wish to please or reward so constantly fosters and prolongs) into the opinion of their being a most pernicious evil, which should on all occasions be avoided, as poisoner of the health, the morals, and the peace of society.

The removal of all taxes on knowledge, and the extending every facility to the widest spread of useful information to the humblest classes of the community.

A national system of education, which should ensure the means of instruction to all ranks and classes of the people, and which, in addition to the various branches of requisite and appropriate knowledge, should embrace, as an essential part of the instruction given by it to every child in the kingdom, accurate information as to the poisonous and invariably deleterious nature of ardent spirits, as an article of diet, in any form or shape; and the inculcation of a sense of shame at the crime of voluntarily destroying, or thoughtlessly obscuring that faculty of reasoning, and that consciousness of responsibility, which chiefly distinguish man from the brute, and which his Almighty Maker, when He created him in His own image, implanted in the human race to cultivate, to improve, and to refine—and not to corrupt, to brutalise, and to destroy.

Ultimate or Prospective Remedies.

The ultimate or prospective remedies which have been strongly urged by several witnesses, and which they think, when public opinion shall be sufficiently awakened to the great national importance of the subject, may be safely recommended, include the following:—

(a) The absolute prohibition of the importation from any foreign country, or from our colonies, of distilled spirits in any shape.

(b) The equally absolute prohibition of all distillation of ardent spirits from grain.

(c) The restriction of distillation from other materials, to the purposes of the arts, manufactures, and medicine, and the confining the wholesale and retail dealing in such articles to chemists, druggists, and dispensaries alone.

Finally they conclude:—

As your Committee are fully aware that one of the most important elements in successful legislation is the obtaining the full sanction and support of public opinion in favour of the laws—and as this is most powerful and most enduring when based on careful investigation and accurate knowledge as the result, they venture still further to recommend the most extensive circulation during the recess, under the direct sanction of the Legislature, of an abstract of the evidence obtained by this inquiry, in a cheap and portable volume, as was done with the Poor Law Report, to which it would form the best auxiliary; the national cost of intoxication and its consequences being tenfold greater in amount than that of the poor-rates, and pauperism itself being indeed chiefly caused by habits of intemperance, of which it is but one out of many melancholy and fatal results.

By 4th and 5th William IV., the preamble whereof recites that much evil had arisen from the management of houses in which beer and cider are sold, it was enacted that each beer-seller is to obtain his annual excise licence only on condition of placing in the hands of the excise, a certificate of good character signed by six rated inhabitants of his parish (none of whom must be brewers or maltsters), if in a town of 5,000 inhabitants; but the house to be one rated at 10l. a year. This Act also distinguishes between persons who sell liquor to be drunk on the premises, and those who sell it only to be drunk elsewhere. By a Treasury order, beer sold at, or under, 1½d. per quart, may be retailed without licence.

It is well known that Lord Brougham was a warm advocate of the Beer Act in the first instance. He entirely changed his opinion. In 1839, he said in the Upper House:—

To what good was it that the Legislature should pass laws to punish crime, or that their lordships should occupy themselves in finding out modes of improving the morals of the people by giving them education? What could be the use of sowing a little seed here, and plucking up a weed there, if these beer-shops were to be continued that they might go on to sow the seeds of immorality broadcast over the land, germinating the most frightful produce that had ever been allowed to grow up in a civilised country, and, he was ashamed to add, under the fostering care of Parliament, and throwing its baleful influences over the whole community?

Queen Victoria had scarcely ascended the throne before she was reminded that the evils of the drink traffic were upmost in the minds of many of her Majesty’s subjects. At a Conference held at Carnarvon, August 2, 1837, a congratulatory address to the Sovereign upon her accession was drawn up. It stated:—

To this declaration not less than one hundred thousand of your Majesty’s loyal subjects have already subscribed their names, some thousands of whom had previously been drunkards. And could we convey to your royal mind the incalculable benefits resulting from the simple means of total abstinence from intoxicating liquor, we would with humble confidence earnestly entreat your Majesty to condescend to patronise our endeavour to wipe away from Britain the plague-spot of drunkenness.

In the treatment of this period, we have to confront an apparent anomaly, viz. the largest drink bills on record, and the most strenuous efforts to get rid of drink altogether. That the Statute Book bristles with legislative interference, is sufficiently accounted for by these two circumstances. In no period has legislation been to the same extent an index of the precise situation. Let us at once address ourselves to its salient features.

By the 2nd and 3rd Victoria, called the Metropolitan Police Act, operating within a circle of fifteen miles from Charing Cross, all public-houses are to be shut on Sundays until one o’clock p.m., except for travellers: and publicans are prohibited, under penalties of 20l., 40l., and 50l., for the first, second, and third offences, from selling spirits to young persons under sixteen years of age.

By the 3rd and 4th Victoria a licence can only be granted to the real occupier of the house; and the rated value to be 15l. in towns of 10,000 inhabitants; 11l. in towns of between 2,500 and 10,000; and 8l. in smaller places. The hours for opening and closing within the metropolitan boroughs are 5 a.m. and 12 p.m.; but 11 o’clock in any place within the bills of mortality, or any city, town, or place not containing above 2,500 inhabitants. In smaller places 10 o’clock p.m. On any Sunday, Good Friday, or Christmas Day, or any day appointed for a public fast or thanksgiving, the houses are not to be opened before one o’clock p.m. Licensed victuallers and keepers of beer-shops who sell ale to be drunk on the premises, may have soldiers billeted on them.

On June 15, 1849, a Select Committee of the Lords, on the motion of the Earl of Harrowby, who became its chairman, was appointed ‘to consider the operations of the Acts for the sale of beer, and to report thereon to the House.’ The Committee held sittings June 25, 28, July 5, 12, 13, and 20. Next session it was reappointed, and took evidence February 28, March 5 and 19; and the report agreed upon bears date May 3, 1850. Fifteen witnesses were examined in the first session, and ten in the second session. The Committee’s report refers to the evidence and petitions which had come before them, and then proceeds: ‘On a review of all the statements and opinions which have thus been brought before them, the Committee have no hesitation in stating that the expectations of those who proposed the existing system have not been realised. Their object appears to have been to create a class of houses of refreshment, respectable in character, brewing their own beer, diminishing by the supply of a cheap and wholesome beverage the consumption of ardent spirits, and thus contributing to the happiness and comforts of the labouring classes. But it appears that of these houses only one-twelfth brew their own beer; that a very large proportion are, as in the case of public-houses, the actual property of brewers, or tied by advances to them; that they are notorious for the sale of an inferior article; that the consumption of ardent spirits has, from whatever cause, far from diminished; and that the comforts and morals of the poor have been seriously impaired. It was already sufficiently notorious that drunkenness is the main cause of crime, disorder, and distress in England, and it appears that the multiplication of houses for the consumption of intoxicating liquors, which under the Beer Act has risen from 88,930 to 123,396, has been thus in itself an evil of the first magnitude, not only by increasing the temptations to excess, which are thus presented at every step, but by driving houses, even those under the direct control of the magistrates, as well as others originally respectable, to practices for the purpose of attracting custom which are degrading to their character, and most injurious to morality and disorder.’ The increase of crime is next adverted to, and the defects of the system pointed out, such as an ‘unlimited multiplication’ of the worst class of beer-houses, the want of security as to character, the low rating, the opening of beer-houses in obscure localities—‘But, perhaps, the evil of all the most difficult to deal with is the absence of all control save by legal conviction almost impracticable to attain.’ ‘The magnitude of these evils has led to a widely-extended feeling in favour of an abandonment of that part of the existing law by which consumption on the premises is permitted. But the existence of houses conducted under a beer licence with propriety and advantage, and the length of time which this system has already endured, have made the Committee unwilling to contemplate a change so extensive until experience shall have proved that it is impossible by other means to abate the evil.’ The suggestions of the Select Committee were to the effect that all beer and coffee-shops should be open to the visits of the police; that new applicants for a beer licence should be compelled to procure certificates from the magistrates in Petty Sessions that they were satisfied as to the rating and character of the applicant; that the rating should be in places with less than 2,500 population, 10l.; under 10,000, 15l.; above 10,000, 20l. (the rating required by the existing law being, severally, 8l., 11l., and 15l.); that applicants should give one month’s notice, the notice to be affixed for three weeks to some public place, before the Petty Sessions, at which three out of six of the certifiers to character should attend with the overseers of the respective parishes, rate-book in hand; no magistrate’s certificate to be granted to any person convicted of misdemeanour or who had forfeited a spirit licence; no person licensed to sell beer for consumption on the premises to sell any other article except refreshments and tobacco; that debts for intoxicating liquors drunk on the premises not to be recoverable by law.[233]

In 1853, a Select Committee of the House of Commons was appointed to examine into the system under which public-houses, &c., are regulated, with a view of reporting whether any alteration of the law can be made for the better preservation of the public morals, the protection of the revenue, and for the proper accommodation of the public; which sat for 41 days, examining witnesses and considering evidence, under the able presidency of the Right Hon. C. P. Villiers (§ 29). The report and evidence, now published, form two ponderous Blue-books of 1,174 folio pages. The chief points of the Report from the Select Committee on Public-houses, July 1854, are the following:—

1. The distinctions as to licences lead to evasion of the law.

2. The distinction between beer-shops and public-houses give rise to unhealthy competition, under which both parties are drawn to extreme expedients for the attraction of custom. Mr. Stanton, a publican, says:—‘There is a great deal of gambling carried on in Birmingham, although the police do all they can to put it down. If the licensed victuallers did not allow it, the parties would go to a beer-house.’

3. Beer is seldom at the public-house what it was at the brewery. A late partner in one of the metropolitan breweries says:—‘It is quite notorious if you drink beer at the brewery, and at a public-house a little way off, you find it a very different commodity’ (4538).

4. The drinks are adulterated, as well as diluted. Mr. Ridley, who has under his management certain offices for the analysation of alcoholic liquors, states that there are several recipes, such as ‘To a barrel of porter [add] 12 gallons of liquor, 4 lbs. of foots, 1 lb. of salt; and sometimes to bring a head up [and lay it down?], a little vitriol, cocculus indicus, also a variety of things very minute’ (4700). Mr. J. W. McCulloch, analytic chemist, in 40 samples of brewers’ beer, found 10½ gallons proof spirit to every 100 gallons, but at several of the licensed victuallers supplied by those brewers it did not reach 7; and out of 150 samples there was not one within 20 per cent. of the brewery standard.

5. That magistrates do not enforce the law, or very rarely.

6. ‘The beer-shop system has proved a failure. It was established under the belief that it would give the public their beer cheap and pure; would dissociate beer-drinking from drunkenness, and lead to the establishment, throughout the country, of a class of houses of refreshment, altogether free from the disorders supposed to attend exclusively on the sale of spirits.’

7. The Committee concur in the statement of the Lords’ Report on the Sale of Beer Act, that ‘It was already sufficiently notorious that drunkenness is the main cause of crime, disorder, and distress in England; and it appears that the multiplication of houses for the consumption of intoxicating liquors, under the Beer Act, has risen from 88,930 to 123,306.’

8. That throughout the country ‘the publicans are completely under the thumb of the brewers.’

9. The trade of a publican is looked upon as a peculiar privilege. The hope of obtaining a licence increases beer-shops.

10. It seems desirable that a higher rate of duty be paid for a licence, and more stringent regulations enforced as to character and sureties.

11. Statistics of intemperance defective. The evidence before the Committee is sufficient to show that the amount of drunkenness is very much greater than appears upon the face of any official returns.

12. There are many places where beer is sold without a licence. Some of them, under cover of the law permitting beer at 1½d. a quart to be sold without licence, sell also porter and ale (6882). ‘At the single town of Fazeley there are about 30 houses that sell porter, ale, and beer indiscriminately; they are private houses, known as “Bush-houses,” from their having a bush over the door as a sign to their frequenters’ (4838, 6840). At Oldham ‘there are from 400 to 500 such places, known there as Hush-shops, where they brew their own beer, and have each their own known customers.’ At Bolton, at Preston, and in Hampshire and London, similar practices are more or less prevalent (3664, 3679).

13. ‘The temptation is strong to encourage intemperance, and a vast number of the houses for the sale of intoxicating drinks live upon drunkards and the sure progress of multitudes to drunkenness.’

14. ‘Your Committee do not feel it necessary to follow the evidence upon the connection of intoxicating drinks with crime; it has, directly or indirectly, been the subject of inquiry at different times, and has been reported upon by numerous committees of your Honourable House, who bear unvarying testimony both to the general intemperance of criminals, and the increase and diminution of crime in direct ratio with the increased or diminished consumption of intoxicating drinks.... The entire evidence tends to establish that it is essential that the sale of intoxicating drinks shall be under strict supervision and control.’

15. ‘The testimony is universal that the greatest amount of drinking takes place on Saturday night, and during the hours that the houses are allowed by law to be open on Sunday.’

16. ‘It need not be matter of surprise that in view of the vast mass of evils found in connection with intemperance, it should have been suggested altogether to prohibit the manufacture and sale of intoxicating drinks. Laws to that effect are in force in the States of Maine, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Vermont, and Michigan, in the United States; and your Committee have had before them several zealous promoters of an Association established to procure the enactment of similar laws in England.’[234]

On July 13, 1854, Colonel Wilson Patten strove to give effect to the provisions of the Villiers Committee. His Bill, known as the ‘Sunday Beer Act,’ was ‘A Bill for further regulating the sale of beer and other liquors on the Lord’s day.’

This Act closed public-houses and beer-shops on Sunday, from half-past two o’clock p.m. until six p.m., and from ten o’clock on Sunday evening until four a.m. on Monday. During the few months of its operating, there was a sensible abatement of drunkenness and disorder, as is testified by the returns from the police, throughout the country. We cite places by way of specimen. Warrington: ‘A most remarkable difference is observable in the general order which prevails throughout the town, as well as by the discontinuance of fearful affrays, and riotous conduct.’ Liverpool: ‘The new Act,’ says Mr. Greig, head constable of the police, ‘has been attended with the most beneficial results.’ London: Mr. G. A’Beckett, magistrate of the Southwark Police Court, in a letter to the Times, Jan. 8, 1855, says, ‘that on the Monday mornings before the Act, the business of the court was greater than on any other days, but that since, it had only averaged two cases of drunkenness for each Sunday.’ In 1855, the Wilson Patten Act was superseded by the New Beer Bill of Mr. Henry Berkeley, which extended the hour of closing to eleven at night, and gave a little more freedom to the traffic on the Sunday afternoon. The history of this remarkable piece of legislation is worth preserving, as a monument of its author’s—character. In a speech delivered by him, at the second anniversary dinner of the Licensed Victuallers’ Association, Bristol, reported in the Bristol Mercury, of Nov. 4, 1854, he said, that after Wilson Patten’s Bill had passed the second reading, he had been waited on by a deputation, but that being the ‘eleventh hour,’ no successful opposition could then be offered. He believed the words he used to the deputation were, ‘If nobody else comes forward I will have a shy at it.’ This it will be seen, was just before the Bill became law, and, therefore, before it had gone into effect. Mr. Berkeley opposed it without trial, and stood pledged against it without regard to its results. On Feb. 20, 1855, immediately after the meeting of Parliament, Mr. Berkeley, in his place in Parliament, inquired of the Government, whether they intended to do anything in reference to the Act, and received a reply that it was not their intention to repeal it. Mr. Berkeley then recommended the appointment of a select committee. This created considerable division among the publicans, who held many meetings for discussion, at all of which Mr. Berkeley was recognised as ‘their experienced and talented adviser.’ (See the Daily News, April and May, 1855, and The Era of April 22.) On April 23 a meeting of delegates is reported, in The Era of the 29th, to have been held in Mr. Painter’s public-house, Bridge Street, Westminster, which resulted in the appointment of a deputation to consult with Mr. Berkeley. The deputation is reported to have waited on Mr. Berkeley in the lobby of the House of Commons. ‘A long desultory conversation ensued, after which Mr. Berkeley advised the delegates to confer among themselves, and to consider well the course which would be most beneficial for them to pursue. He would postpone for a week his motion for a Select Committee.... Eventually his advice was accepted, and on June 26, 1855, his motion for a Select Committee was agreed to by the House—Mr. Cobbett, the seconder, remarking that no legislation could be attempted that session.[235]

In 1860, Mr. Gladstone’s Wine Licences Act was passed. This measure permitted foreign wines to be sold for consumption on the premises to various classes of refreshment houses. It gave concurrent power to grocers, &c., to sell those wines in bottles for consumption off the premises. The introducer of this measure, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, stated that the proposal was not intended merely as a means of raising revenue, but as one carrying out the principles of free trade, and contributing to the comforts and conveniences of the people.[236] The following statistics have been carefully gathered by Mr. Samuelson, from which some estimate may be formed of the effect produced by this legislation of Mr. Gladstone:—Beginning with the year 1859, the wine imported from France was 695,911 gallons; from Spain and Portugal, 4,893,916 gallons; whilst in 1876 the wine imported from France was 6,745,710 gallons, and from Spain and Portugal, 10,186,332 gallons. The importation of strong wines had therefore actually fallen below the average of 1863-65, whilst that of French wine had increased tenfold by the reduction of the duty.[237]

In 1863, Mr. J. Somes introduced into Parliament his Sunday Closing Bill, which proposed to prohibit the sale of intoxicating liquors, except to bonâ fide travellers, from eleven o’clock on Saturday night to six o’clock Monday morning. The Bill was rejected.

In March 1864, Sir W. Lawson introduced into the House his Permissive Bill; which provides that on application of any district, the votes of the ratepayers shall be taken as to whether the traffic shall exist in that district or not; a majority of two-thirds of the ratepayers being necessary to decide the question. This Bill was the embodiment of the principles of the ‘United Kingdom Alliance.’

In 1868, the Bill of Mr. John Abel Smith was rejected; which, while prohibiting Sunday drinking on the premises, allowed four hours for the sale of dinner and supper beer.

In 1869, the Government adopted the Bill of Sir H. Selwyn-Ibbetson, entitled The Wine and Beerhouse Act, which transferred the power of licensing beer-houses from the excise to the magistracy, who now could exercise over all applications for new beer and wine licences the same discretionary control, as in the case of spirit licences. By this measure the number of such houses was limited. But the 50,000 existing houses, with the exception of a few denounced dens, were perpetuated—a new monopoly and with it a new vested interest was created, and a point of reform was reached much below that for which the public opinion of the country was prepared.[238]

In 1869, Mr. Peter Rylands moved for the adoption of his Resolution,—‘That in the opinion of this House it is expedient that any measure for the general amendment of the laws for licensing public-houses, beer-houses, and refreshment houses, should include the prohibition of the sale of liquors on Sunday.’ This fell through. But in 1871, the same member succeeded in getting read a second time a much modified Bill, which was, however, negatived when it came on for Committee.

In 1871, Lord Aberdare (then Mr. Bruce), the Home Secretary, introduced a Bill on behalf of the Government, with the professed object of reforming the laws relating to the licensing of the sale of intoxicating liquors. He denounced, in his introductory speech, the existing laws as seriously defective, and tending to undermine the best interests of the community. The Bill was thorough, honest, and calculated in ten years to have changed the face of the community, by its many provisions calculated to restrain the traffic as well as the hours of sale, week day and Sunday.

Amongst its wisest provisions was the appointment of inspectors of the trade. But a panic set in, and Mr. Bruce was obliged to withdraw, and a suspensory measure preventing the issue of any fresh licences for the next year, was introduced by Sir R. Anstruther, and became law. In two years, however, it was succeeded by an amended Bill, which rendered its chief provisions practically null.

In 1872, Mr. Hugh Birley introduced his Sunday Closing Bill into the House. But it got no further than its first reading.

In 1876, Mr. Joseph Cowen’s Bill for the establishment of licensing boards was thrown out.

In 1877, Mr. Chamberlain introduced a motion for the adoption of the ‘Gothenburg System,’ the main principle of which is, that municipal corporations should have power to buy up and become owners of public-house licences, their agents to have no personal or pecuniary interest in the profits, but rather be encouraged to push the sale of food and non-intoxicants, and all profits derived from the sale of intoxicating liquors be devoted to the relief of the rates, &c. The motion was rejected.

In 1876 ‘The Lords’ Committee on Intemperance’ was appointed, on the motion of Dr. Tait, Archbishop of Canterbury, ‘for the purpose of inquiring into the prevalence of habits of intemperance, and into the manner in which these habits have been affected by recent legislation and other causes.’[239]

In 1877-78, the committee, not having as yet acted, was reappointed. One hundred witnesses were examined, including members of Parliament, magistrates, clergymen, constables, municipal authorities, doctors, merchants, &c. In their bulky report, issued in 1879, they recommend:—

1. That legislative facilities should be afforded for the local adoption of the Gothenburg and Chamberlain schemes, or of some modification of them.

2. That renewals of beer-house licences before 1879 should be placed on the same footing as those of public-houses.

3. That in cases of decisions affecting the renewal of licences in boroughs having separate quarter sessions, the appeal shall be to the Recorder, where there is one, and not to the county justices.

4. That justices should be authorised to refuse transfers on the same grounds of misconduct as those on which renewals of licences are now refused.

5. That no removal of a licence from house to house should be sanctioned without allowing the inhabitants of the interested locality the opportunity of expressing their objections.

6. A considerable increase in licence duties.

7. Licensed houses outside the metropolis, not to open before 7 a.m. and be closed earlier than at present.

8. That licensed houses in Scotland and Ireland be closed one hour earlier than at present on week-days.

9. That on Sundays, licensed houses in the metropolis should be open from one to three p.m. for consumption off the premises, and for consumption on, from seven to eleven p.m. In other places from 12.30 to 2.30 p.m. for consumption off, and for consumption on the premises from 7 to 10 p.m. in populous places, and from 7 to 9 in others.

10. Even if a person, professing to be a bonâ fide traveller, has on the previous night lodged outside the 3-mile limit, as defined by the Act, it still rests with the magistrates to determine whether he be a bonâ fide traveller or not.

11. That justices should have discretionary power of licensing music-halls and dancing saloons in the country as at present in the metropolis, whether connected with public-houses or not, and that all such places should be subject to supervision by the police.

12. That certain serious offences should entail the compulsory endorsement of the licence, and that the treating of constables should be added to the list of offences included in the category.

13. That any person ‘having or keeping for sale’ any intoxicating liquors without a licence, should be liable to penalties of the same description and amount as those under the existing law ‘for selling or exposing for sale,’ and that the powers of apprehension upon warrant in cases of illicit drinking should be generally applied.

14. That the entering of liquors under some other name upon the bill of a shopkeeper holding a licence to sell off the premises should be an offence against the licence punishable by immediate forfeiture.

15. That a list of convictions kept by the justices’ clerks should be legal evidence of previous convictions.

16. That all occasional licences to sell elsewhere than on licensed premises should be granted by two justices at quarter sessions.

17. That fines and penalties should apply in Scotland as in England.

18. That the ‘Grocers’ Licence’ recommendation of the Royal Commission of 1877 should be adopted in Ireland.

19. That in Ireland and Scotland, as in England, no spirits should be sold to children under sixteen.[240]

In 1879, Dr. Cameron’s Habitual Drunkards Bill became law.

In the same year, Mr. Stevenson introduced the English Sunday Closing Bill, which met with a by no means unfavourable reception, though it was not at present carried. The following year he moved again in the same direction. Mr. Pease carried an amendment to this which provided for off sale during limited hours in the country, and for such modified sale in the metropolitan districts as would satisfy the wish of the country.

In 1880, Sir Wilfrid Lawson carried his ‘Local Option’ resolution, by a majority of twenty-six. This was another form of the original ‘Permissive Bill.’ All detail is here omitted. It affirms the justice of local communities being entrusted with the power to protect themselves from the operation of the liquor traffic.

In June, 1881, the same baronet moved: ‘That in the opinion of this House, it is desirable to give legislative effect to the resolution passed on June 18, 1880.’ This was carried by a majority of forty-two.

Earl Stanhope’s Bill for preventing payment of wages in public-houses has passed the Upper House.

An important scheme of amendment of the licensing laws was put forward by the ‘Committee on Intemperance for the Lower House of Convocation of the Province of Canterbury.’

Convinced that without an improved and stringent system of legislation, and its strict enforcement, no effectual and permanent remedy for intemperance can be looked for, they urge as

Legislative Remedies

1. The repeal of the Beer Act of 1830, and the total suppression of beer-houses throughout the country.

2. The closing of public-houses on Sunday, bonâ fide travellers excepted.

3. The earlier closing of public-houses on week-days, especially on Saturday.

4. A great reduction in the number of public-houses throughout the kingdom; it being in evidence that in proportion as facilities for drinking are reduced, intemperance is restrained.

5. Placing the whole licensing system under one authority.

6. The rigid enforcement of the penalties now attached to drunkenness, both on the actual offenders and on licensed persons who allow drunkenness to occur on their premises.

7. Passing an Act to prevent the same person holding a music, dancing, or billiard licence, in conjunction with a drink licence.

8. Prohibiting the use of public-houses as committee rooms at elections, and closing such houses on the days of nomination and election in every Parliamentary borough.

9. The appointment of a distinct class of police for the inspection of public-houses, and frequent visitation of publics for the detection of adulterations, to be followed, on conviction, with severe penalties.

10. The repeal of all the duties on tea, coffee, chocolate, and sugar.

11. Your Committee, in conclusion, are of opinion that as the ancient and avowed object of licensing the sale of intoxicating liquors is to supply a supposed public want, without detriment to the public welfare, a legal power of restraining the issue or renewal of licences should be placed in the hands of the persons most deeply interested and affected—namely, the inhabitants themselves—who are entitled to protection from the injurious consequences of the present system. Such a power would, in effect, secure to the districts, willing to exercise it, the advantages now enjoyed by the numerous parishes in the Province of Canterbury, where, according to reports furnished to your Committee, owing to the influence of the landowner, no sale of intoxicating liquors is licensed.

Few, it may be believed, are cognisant of the fact that there are at this time within the Province of Canterbury, more than one thousand parishes in which there is neither public-house nor beer-shop; and where, in consequence of the absence of these inducements to crime and pauperism, the intelligence, morality and comfort of the people are such as the friends of temperance would have anticipated.

The non-legislative recommendations urge the removal of benefit clubs from taverns, the discontinuance of wage-payment in them, and the providing of ample and varied counter-attractions.

Thus much for legislation, and for the impulses that stimulate thereunto. Much has been written both for and against restriction. Violently opposed to it was Mr. John Stuart Mill, who may well claim to be the mouthpiece of the adversaries of prohibition. Speaking on the laws against intemperance in his Essay on Liberty, he remarks:—

Under the name of preventing intemperance, the people of one English colony, and of nearly half the United States, have been interdicted by law from making any use whatever of fermented drinks, except for medical purposes; for prohibition of their sale is, in fact, as it is intended to be, prohibition of their use. And though the impracticability of executing the law has caused its repeal in several of the states which had adopted it, including the one from which it derives its name, an attempt has notwithstanding been commenced, and is prosecuted with considerable zeal by many of the professed philanthropists, to agitate for a similar law in this country. The association, or ‘Alliance,’ as it terms itself, which has been formed for this purpose, has acquired some notoriety through the publicity given to a correspondence between its secretary and one of the very few English public men who hold that a politician’s opinions ought to be founded on principles. Lord Stanley’s share in this correspondence is calculated to strengthen the hopes already built on him, by those who know how rare such qualities as are manifested in some of his public appearances, unhappily are among those who figure in political life. The organ of the Alliance, who would ‘deeply deplore the recognition of any principle which could be wrested to justify bigotry and persecution,’ undertakes to point out the ‘broad and impassable barrier’ which divides such principles from those of the association. ‘All matters relating to thought, opinion, conscience, appear to me,’ he says, ‘to be without the sphere of legislation; all pertaining to social act, habit, relation, subject only to a discretionary power vested in the state itself, and not in the individual to be within it.’ No mention is made of a third class, different from either of these—namely, acts and habits which are not social, but individual—although it is to this class, surely, that the act of drinking fermented liquors belongs. Selling fermented liquors, however, is trading, and trading is a social act. But the infringement complained of is not on the liberty of the seller, but on that of the buyer and consumer; since the state might just as well forbid him to drink wine, as purposely make it impossible for him to obtain it. The secretary, however, says: ‘I claim, as a citizen, a right to legislate whenever my social rights are invaded by the social act of another.’ And now for the definition of these ‘social rights.’ ‘If anything invades my social rights, certainly the traffic in strong drink does. It destroys my primary right of security, by constantly creating and stimulating social disorder. It invades my right of equality, by deriving a profit from the creation of a misery I am taxed to support. It impedes my right to free moral and intellectual development, by surrounding my path with dangers, and by weakening and demoralising society from which I have a right to claim mutual aid and intercourse.’ A theory of ‘social rights,’ the like of which probably never before found its way into distinct language; being nothing short of this, that it is the absolute social right of every individual, that every other individual shall act in every respect exactly as he ought; that whosoever fails thereof in the smallest particular, violates my social right, and entitles me to demand from the legislature the removal of the grievance. So monstrous a principle is far more dangerous than any single interference with liberty; there is no violation of liberty which it would not justify; it acknowledges no right to any freedom whatever, except, perhaps, to that of holding opinions in secret, without ever disclosing them; for the moment, an opinion, which I consider noxious, passes any one’s lips, it invades all the ‘social rights’ attributed to me by the Alliance. The doctrine ascribes to all mankind a vested interest in each other’s moral, intellectual, and even physical perfection, to be defined by each claimant according to his own standard.