The first temperance society in England was formed at Brad­ford, York­shire, on the 2nd Feb­ru­ary 1830, the chief mover having been Mr. Henry Forbes, who had signed the pledge at Glasgow. But the use of ardent spirits was condemned by many medical practitioners early in the seven­teenth cen­tury, although the United Kingdom does not seem to have abstained from strong waters any the more. Repressive leg­is­la­tion, in order to inculcate sobriety, was tried in Mas­sa­chu­setts, U.S., early in the present century, but a few years before a society had been formed at Moreau, New York State, in order to prohibit the con­sumption of both wines and spirits, except {228} medicinally, or wine except at public dinners or in the Lord’s Supper.

The work whence I have gleaned the above details also informs the reader that “such as Doctor Samuel Johnson and John Howard set an example of abstinence from all inebriating drinks”; which, as far as Doctor Johnson is concerned, is somewhat startling news to myself. I had always imagined that the burly lexicographer—I was reproved by a critic for calling him this in Cakes and Ale—was a bit of a boon companion; and the records of Fleet Street taverns by no means tend to contradict this idea. Not only is the hard, oaken seat at one end of the dining-room of “Ye Olde Cheshyre Cheese” marked with a brass plate, with a suitable inscription, but the many visitors to that snug hostelry, including hundreds of our American cousins, are always taken upstairs and shewn Doctor Johnson’s chair. Did “Sam,” and “Davy,” and “Noll” slake their thirst on cold water, beneath that tavern’s roof? I trow not. Cross out Doctor Johnson’s name as a total abstainer, please.

In 1834, Mr. J. S. Buckingham, who was returned for Sheffield to the first Reform Parliament, succeeded in obtaining a select committee of the House of Commons, to enquire into the causes, extent, and remedies of drunkenness. In the meantime the limitation of the pledge to abstention from ardent spirits had proved a greater drawback than in other countries, because beer had been the popular beverage, and its use a cause of widespread drunkenness before ardent spirits were commonly sold. But the idea of {229} our legislators before 1834 had been that “good malt and hops could injure nobody.”

From ’34 to ’45 there was great activity in the temperance ranks through­out the world; and in ’53 the United Kingdom Alliance for the Legislative Suppression of the Liquor Traffic was formed, its first pres­i­dent being Sir W. C. Trevelyan. In March ’64 a Permis­sive Prohi­bi­tory Bill was brought into the House of Commons, but although repeatedly re-introduced it never obtained a second reading. Nor is it likely that such a Bill will ever become law as long as the sons of Britannia are living outside a state of slavery. Repressive legislation serves only to stimulate that which it claims to check; and thus it is that these would-be reformers, whether Prohibitors of the Drink Traffic, Vigilance and Purity Societies, and Anti-gambling Societies have succeeded in making the state of London infinitely worse, as regards drunkenness, chastity, and betting, than it was forty years ago.

Poor frail humanity will always do the thing which it ought not to do in preference to fulfilling its obligations. It has been so since the be­gin­ning of the world, and will continue so until the end. For­bid­den fruit has ever been the sweetest; and it is char­ac­ter­is­tic of mankind—and more especially of womankind—to oppose, as far as they can, any attempt at restraint. What has been the effect of closing Cremorne Gardens, the Argyll Rooms, and other public resorts where dancing and revelry were carried on until the small hours, five-and-twenty years ago? {230} The evil took refuge in the open streets, and, more recently, in so-called social clubs, in which illicit liquors were, and are, sold, and the pander, and the pimp, and the bully met, and meet the drunkard, the dupe, and the greenhorn. What has been the effect of the Anti-gambling Crusade? To create working-men bookmakers. This is a fact. In most large warehouses and factories there are employÉs who will lay “starting prices,” in shillings and sixpences, to their mates. There is not a tithe of the amount wagered amongst the upper classes that there was in the fifties and sixties; but amongst the horny-handed sons of toil the vice has increased to an enormous extent, mainly owing to repressive legislation. If a man wants to gamble there is only one factor to prevent him—impecuniosity; and even that factor need not prevent a man from having a drink if he waits in the tap-room long enough on pay-day. Since Sunday closing in Wales, shebeens have arisen by the hundred; and paraffin, for want of a better drink, is still drunk on the Sabbath day, by the miners in the Rhondda Valley.

All honour to him who abstains from strong drink for conscience’ sake, or in the hope that others may profit by his example. But the lash of scorn for him who because he does not swallow fermented refreshment himself, says to his brother “Thou shalt not drink!” The Puritans abolished bear-baiting, not on account of the cruelty to the bears, but because the alleged sport gave pleasure to the people; and the Puritans of the day, who forbid cakes and ale, {231} and hunting, and horse-racing, do so for the self-same reason.

“He who does not smoke,” said the sage, “has known no great sorrow.” Similarly, it may be urged that he who never joins in a friendly glass has known no great joy. Do we express our unfeigned joy and thankfulness for having a great and good Queen to reign over us by toasting her in flat soda-water? Forbid the deed! When our sons return from the midst of many and great dangers, from the battle-field, the raging deep, or the land of savages, do we express our delight by putting the kettle on to boil? Avaunt! I have known a man who had won £27,000 on a certain Wednesday at Ascot, dine that same night off a chump chop, chips, and a bottle of ginger-beer, at a coffee-house no great distance from Fleet Street. And he gave the waitress one penny for herself, and counselled her not to “get gamblin’” with it. But amongst my own personal friends, when the fancied horse catches the eye of the judge, there is revelry; and who shall say that they sin thereby? I do not believe in the man who takes his winnings sadly—or at all events impassively. “A shout, and a drink, and then sit down and write about it,” is the programme pursued by a journalistic friend; and although I do not always “write about it,” ’tis much the same programme pursued by myself. Nor do we rejoice for the sole reason that we have got the better of somebody else. For, alas! the balance at the end of the year is far too often in favour of that “somebody else.”

“On the question of the prohibition of the {232} liquor traffic,” says an authority on the ethics or total abstinence, “there has been much controversy. Its opponents have contended that it is an invasion of personal liberty; that even when imposed by a majority it is a violation of the rights of the minority, and that all that is really required is such a magisterial and police supervision as will repress drunkenness as much as possible, and inflict different penalties on offenders. To this statement various answers are returned. With regard to the violation of personal liberty the prohibitionists maintain that in one sense all law interferes with liberty. A good law interferes with the liberty to do wrong. Therefore, they say, assuming that the common sale of drinks wrongs the public a law interfering with this wrong is in accord with true liberty. They hold that individual profit must be subservient to the public welfare, Salus populi suprema lex. If hardship is alleged as affecting the buyer, the statement of John Stuart Mill is quoted, who declared that every artificial augmentation of the price of an article is prohibition to the more or less poor; yet there is hardly any government which does not in some way or other legislate so that the price of intoxicants is increased. As to the possibility of extirpating intemperance by means of strict regulation as to the sale of drink, the prohibitionists affirm that the existing system has been tried for hundreds of years, and often under the most favourable circumstances for its success, and that yet the licensing system, as judged by its fruits, is confessed to be a mel­an­choly failure.” {233}

My remarks on the above are few and simple. It is this very Jesuitical logic which has earned the “prohibitionists” the contempt of all friends of freedom. It is this false and tyrannical doctrine which asserts that “the end justifies the means,” which still stinks in the nostrils of the majority of the people’s representatives in Parliament.

Now for a few hints as to some non-alcoholic beverages. And first of all let it be stated that the thirsty man can do much worse than turn to a teetotal beverage—as long as he avoids the bottled flatulence which is sold, and freely advertised outside, in pretty nearly every country cottage which can boast of good accommodation for travellers, and a bicycle shed. The iced fruit-fizzers of Mr. Sainsbury—where the pick-me-ups come from—close to the Lady’s Pictorial office, are, to my personal knowledge, freely patronized in summer-time by habitual worshippers at the shrine of Bacchus. Moreover a follower of the sport of kings would rather go without whisky all the afternoon than miss his cup of tea, after business hours. No directions are needed here for the man­u­fac­ture of tea or coffee. Every housewife has a way of her own; and it is as the laws of the Medes and Persians that her way is the only way. Nor need a discussion be entered on as to the respective merits of different brands of cocoa.