If William E., otherwise known as “Pussyfoot,” Johnson has his way, Europe, too, will know the great drouth. It is something to have lost one’s eye in a cause, and still to retain one’s nerve and enthusiasm.

There is no doubt that the liquor interests in Great Britain have become frightened, just as the tobacco interests have become alarmed here; and there are rumors of large sums being spent to contravert the propaganda of the temperance advocates in England. Lady Astor has come out strong for Prohibition.

The London “pub” is a notoriously shocking place. In the meanest sections of the city, I have witnessed scenes which made one realize that Dickens did not exaggerate when he drew a character like Bill Sykes. I have seen thinly clad, anemic children waiting on the steps of a public house for not only their fathers, but their mothers, to emerge. And when they finally did so, they were so drunk that they could scarcely toddle to their wretched homes. The British could find a way to shut up these disreputable resorts without interfering with the liberty of that portion of the population which knows how to drink in moderation.

During the war, and long after it, the hours were rigidly regulated with respect to bars. One could not obtain a drink until noon; then the bars were tightly closed again at 3:30 P.M., and not reopened until 6 o’clock, closing again at 9. There was little disorder, less drunkenness than ever before in the history of the country; and, with true British loyalty, everyone obeyed the law. No one even thought of disobeying it. That is a way they have over there. I don’t suppose one could have tempted an inn-keeper to sell one glass of ale, though he offered him a thousand pounds. I remember the shock of a bar-maid in a tiny town in the south of England when I, a visitor, not knowing the regulations, asked for a beaker of beer. “Why, we’re closed, sir, until suppertime,” she informed me; and turned away, not expecting—and not getting—any argument.

Had we respected our laws we would not have had Prohibition today.

In Sweden, in the summer of 1922, a referendum was taken on the all-important question of Prohibition; and the wets won. The returns were as follows:

As in America, certain localities were decidedly in favor of complete Prohibition; but in the large cities one found the desire for what might be termed “dampness.” The female vote was preponderately anti-Prohibition.

A sensible system has been evolved in Sweden. They regulate the liquor traffic under what is known as the Bratt system. Only one organization in the country is permitted to dispense alcoholic beverages. This is known as the Wine and Spirits Central, and, as in the Province of Quebec, tickets are issued to citizens, and it is almost impossible to acquire more than one’s allotted quota. There is a widespread desire for a continued restriction of alcohol, but naturally quiet forces are at work all the time to bring about complete Prohibition. Certain reformers are attempting, by means of local option, gradually to make the whole of Sweden as dry as a desert; but Dr. Bratt is equally firm for the present system, which he contends—and figures would seem to confirm his contention—that it is better for the people than anything which could be devised. He has pointed out that in 1913, before liquor restriction, drunkenness was amazingly common. In 1921, drunkenness decreased 27 per cent. Arrests for drunkenness have gone down 49 per cent under his system. There is little doubt that government control in Sweden, as elsewhere, has worked remarkably well.

Russia went dry. Now the Soviet government has decided that Prohibition is a complete failure, resulting in the secret manufacture, as in the United States, of much vile hootch. There will be a return to good vodka, and the proceeds coming from the sale of it will be used to educate the people. Doesn’t this sound sensible?

It is unthinkable that Europe will ever be a Sahara; yet a few years ago it was likewise unthinkable that our own country would come to the arid state it now pretends to know. Anything is possible, and most things are probable in these days of delirium and stress. But a wineless France or a beerless Germany does seem rather grotesque. I have been told that many French wine merchants, certain that America’s going dry is but a phase that will pass, are keeping vast stores of champagne in readiness to ship to us as soon as our laws are rescinded. They simply cannot understand our Eighteenth Amendment; yet perhaps they will have written into their own statutes some equally drastic article in the not very distant future.

That is how the Prohibitionists feel, at any rate. “Pussyfoot” Johnson at this writing is working hard in Australia to bring about this consummation. France knows already the Ligue Nationale Contre L’Alcoolisme, with offices in Paris; Switzerland has the Ligue Suise des Femmes Abstinentes; and both countries are being well peppered with depressing posters, showing the evil effects of booze. Such works of art take the place of old songs like “Father, Dear Father, Come Home with Me Now,” and plays like “Ten Nights in a Barroom.” They have their definite function, they will prove a power among the lower and middle classes, scorned though they may be by the manufacturers and dispensers of liquor.

But as yet the economic questions involved tease and torment the thrifty Latin. He is wise enough to see that his country will suffer in another way if wine and other drinks are totally abolished; and, as always, he looks to America for some solution of his problem.

The question therefore arises, Are the drys in the United States strong enough financially to aid Europe in her campaign against liquor? That the movement has started there in deadly earnest cannot be denied by anyone who has his eye on the situation. But it will require capital to keep it going, and just now all the European countries are notoriously poor. Is the cause of temperance deep-rooted enough to grow and flourish, despite the handicap of lack of funds? There may be multi-millionaires in the United States who will finance campaigns abroad, just as it has been rumored repeatedly with what regularity certain rich advocates of Prohibition have contributed to the American cause. In this event, the European movement would gain a tremendous impetus; and what the result will be cannot, of course, be foretold.

The thing happened to us. It is ridiculous to prophesy that it cannot happen to Europe. The pendulum having swung all the way for us would seem to indicate that it may swing all, or part of the way, for Britishers and Latins alike.

It will be interesting to watch and wait. Then we shall learn whether benevolent autocracies are better than autocratic democracies; whether crowns and ermine are more to be desired than top-hats and frock-coats.

Europe dry? Do not smile. This is an age of unexpected events, a period of transition, the like of which has not been known before.

But would Europeans obey laws that infringed upon their personal liberty? There were those who held that there would never be rebellion and riots in Germany, since the Germans were too docile a people to rise up against their government. Yet we know what the Germans did, and where the Kaiser is today.

The spectacle of America’s going bone dry is not a heartening one. Ambassadors from other lands have seen our contempt for the law; and it is doubtful if any of them would recommend to their countries a counterfeiting of our methods and manners. We have come to little else than disruption and heart-breaking failure in this matter of Prohibition. Imitation of our ways would amount almost to madness.