The history of drink

TO HIS ESTEEMED FRIEND
SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, Baronet, D.C.L. (Oxon), F.R.S.,
Vice-Chancellor of the University of London,
Author of “The Origin of Civilisation and the Primitive Condition
of Man,” and of various other valuable Contributions to our
Scientific Literature,
The following Pages
ARE,
WITH PERMISSION,
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.

No apology would be necessary for the publication of a good and comprehensive work on the history of intoxicating drinks; for, strange to say, although the subjects of drinking and drunkenness have attracted the attention of writers in every age, there appears to have been only one treatise which has attempted to deal with the whole question in a systematic and historical manner, and that was “An Essay on the Inventions and Customs of both Ancients and Moderns in the use of Inebriating Liquors” (&c.), “by Samuel Morewood, Surveyor of Excise.” This book, containing considerably less matter than the present volume, was originally published by Longmans in 1824, and in 1838 it was republished under a somewhat changed title by William Curry, jun., Dublin, with Longmans and others. Its dimensions had then [viii]increased twofold, and it certainly contains an enormous collection of curious and interesting facts concerning the drinks and drinking customs of all times and nations. Numerous references to it will be found in the following pages, but the book itself, which has been out of print for some time, is no longer suited to modern requirements. At the time it was written, all the facts relating to the pre-historic existence of mankind, the habits of the ancient Chinese, and the history of the Aryan nations, were still unrevealed; whilst the modern developments of social reform, such as the temperance movement and various other aids to self-culture, had only just commenced, and are barely noticed by the author of the work.

But whilst this hiatus in the world’s literature would justify the publication of an elaborate treatise on the subject, the author desires to have it clearly understood that this essay makes no such pretensions. To deal with the question fully would necessitate a lifetime of careful study and industrious labour, and all the author has attempted to do is to sketch in the form of a popular essay the plan or outline of such a treatise, and to indicate a few of the sources from which information may be obtained for its effective composition.

He has endeavoured, in a general but very superficial way, to follow the course of human history, commencing with a reference to some traces in the pre-historic period, and then selecting tribes or nations whose habits present features of interest in the history of drink. The earlier chapters are devoted to the drinking customs of those countries which constituted what has been called “the cradle of the human race;” and, at the risk of being a little wearisome (for the whole topic is necessarily monotonous), the author has dwelt at some length on this phase of the subject, inasmuch as it presents a completely untrodden field of investigation and philosophical study. Following the migrations of the human race westward, the drinking habits of the Greek and Roman peoples, and their moral condition in various stages of their national life, have been briefly reviewed. The ancient and modern Germans have received a fair share of attention, for their love of ethical studies has led to the publication of numerous treatises on German drinking customs in all ages, and their relation to the fortunes of the “Fatherland.” The habits of our own people throughout their whole history, followed by an account of Swedish and American drinking habits and legislation, [x]serve as a tolerably full outline of drinking in the modern world; and the remainder of the essay is taken up with the consideration of some of the debated questions connected therewith in the present day, and in the immediate future.

That the attempt to follow the history of drink will, however, be pronounced extremely superficial, the author cannot doubt for a moment; and also that his imperfect judgment will often have led him astray in the selection of facts and authorities. Still he is not without hope that, the effort having been made in an impartial spirit and with a desire to cast some light on a question of momentous import, it may not have been in vain, and that it will lead to the publication of some work on the subject, of a more accurate and comprehensive description.

But there is a consideration in connection with this essay which, with many readers, will have far more weight than its fulness, its literary merit, or, the author fears he must add, than even its accuracy, and that is the question of its tendencies. Is it a temperance or a teetotal book? or does it advocate the use of intoxicating drink? For every one reader whose criticisms [xi]are directed to its style or its historical value, there will be many (if many favour it with a perusal) who will be curious to know how it tallies with their particular “ism.” It will afford but little satisfaction to such readers to hear that in this respect the author wishes the book to speak for itself. To promote sobriety was certainly one of the objects for which he undertook his task, and where debated questions have come under discussion which necessitate an expression of opinion, it will be found that, whether correctly or not, the opinion has been given without any reservation. But whether the work would go far enough to please the members of the “United Kingdom Alliance,” or whether it would give offence to those who profit by the sale of drink, these are questions which never entered into the author’s calculations; and if the work should prove to possess any value as an aid to temperance, it will be simply because it has sought faithfully to record the history of drink and its effects upon men and nations.

In concluding this brief preface, the author desires to express his obligations to the numerous friends who have helped him with references to authorities, or with [xii]their personal experiences; and he has no hesitation in admitting that if the essay possesses any merit, it is to the aid which he has thus received that it must be largely attributed.

Page 67, line 8, “Christ said to the ruler of the feast,” should be, “The governor of the feast said to the bridegroom.”

One of the chief aims of this treatise is to demonstrate, from the facts of history and experience, that excessive indulgence in intoxicating beverages has wrought incalculable mischief to the human race; and it is therefore a matter of regret to the author that his first duty should be to call in question the doctrine propounded by some of the ablest advocates of total abstinence, that there is no instinctive desire in the human race for alcoholic or other artificial stimulants. That doctrine has recently been placed before the public in definite and unmistakable language by Dr. B. W. Richardson, the discoverer of one of our most valuable pain alleviators, and himself an earnest disciple of the cause of total abstinence. He says⁠[1] that the lower animals have never shown an instinctive desire for alcohol; that all children instinctively dislike such drinks, and shrink from them; that inasmuch as there have been nations [2](which, however, he does not name) that have never shown the instinct, therefore the historical evidence which is adduced in favour of the instinctive theory breaks down; and, strangest proposition of all, that not only has nature provided no instinct in any young animal for alcohol, but she has not herself provided the alcohol for the instinct. Now, so far as children are concerned, Dr. Richardson’s statement is far too sweeping. Many children do like intoxicating drinks, unless they have a disagreeable flavour; and practically there are myriads of children born with an innate tendency to indulge in such beverages, whether or not it may show itself in the first years of their existence; for, as Dr. Richardson himself remarks elsewhere,⁠[2] the taste for drink, with its consequences, is transmitted from parent to child. Then, as regards the domesticated animals, many of them are fond of wine; but it may be urged that this is the result of their association with mankind. Possibly so; but the same does not hold good in the case of the monkey tribes, the highest of all the inferior animals, and those which approach nearest to human beings in their structure and habits. One of the most careful and trustworthy of modern naturalists, Mr. Charles Darwin, has told us that many kinds of monkeys have a strong taste for tea, coffee, and spirituous liquors, and that he has seen them smoke tobacco.⁠[3] Moreover, writing on the authority of Brehm,⁠[4] he says that the natives of North-Eastern Africa catch the wild baboons by exposing vessels with strong beer, by which they are [3]made drunk. He has seen some of those animals which he kept in confinement in this state, and he gives a laughable account of their behaviour and strange grimaces. On the following morning they were cross and dismal; they held their aching heads with both hands, and wore a most pitiable expression; when beer or wine was offered them they turned away with disgust, but relished the juice of lemons. An American monkey—an Ateles—after getting drunk on brandy, would never touch it again; and thus, says Mr. Darwin, he was wiser than many men. Then again, as regards the argument, that nature herself has not provided the means of gratifying the instinct. War is a human instinct, but nature did not even chip her flints for pre-historic man! and if none of our instincts could be gratified excepting those for which the materials are ready-made to our hands, we might bid good-bye to civilisation, and once more return to a state of nature. But even in theory the writer of the essay is hardly correct. Wherever the juice of fruits, or any liquid containing sugar, stands at a temperature of about 70° for a few hours, it begins to ferment, and an intoxicating liquor is the result. Hence the negroes in certain parts of Africa have nothing to do but make an incision in a particular part of the palm-tree in the morning, and allow the sap to flow, in order to obtain, the same afternoon, what is to them a pleasant intoxicating drink.

From the foregoing facts it is obvious that to say young children or the lower animals have no instinctive love of intoxicating drink is far too broad an assertion, and it is one of little practical utility. Neither is there very much to be gained by the germane inquiry as to whether savage nations have ever been known to possess [4]intoxicating beverages before they came in contact with civilisation; but, as an interesting part of the history of the subject, it may be worth while devoting a brief space to its consideration. The evidence is in favour of the affirmative. The Nubians make a liquor called bouza from dhourra or barley, also a kind of wine from the palm-tree; and from time immemorial intoxicating drinks have been extracted from these two sources, and from other cereals in various parts of Asia and Africa.⁠[5] Neither are those drinks harmless in a moral sense, for we find that excessive indulgence in them leads to the same crimes amongst savages as those which spring from the practice of a similar vice amongst European nations. Whilst Dr. Livingstone was staying at St. Hilarion in Bango, South Africa, he had favourable opportunities of witnessing the effects of savage intoxication, which he thus describes:⁠[6]—

“The men of all these classes trust to their wives for food, and spend most of their time in drinking the palm toddy. This toddy is the juice of the palm-oil-tree (Elais guineensis), which when tapped yields a clear sweet liquid, not at all intoxicating whilst fresh, but when allowed to stand until the afternoon causes inebriation and many crimes. This toddy, called malova, is the bane of the country. Culprits are continually brought before the commandants for assaults committed through its influence. Men come up with deep gashes on their heads; and one who had burned his [5]father’s house, I saw making a deep bow to Mr. Canto, and volunteering to explain why he did the deed.”

The same trustworthy traveller makes mention of intoxicating drinks produced by the natives in various other parts of Africa,⁠[7] and in one place (amongst the Makololo) he says he found that the men very much disliked to be seen at their potations by persons of the opposite sex,—an instance of refinement not always to be met with in civilised society.

But the primitive drink known to us as palm-wine is by no means confined to the African continent. Another trustworthy traveller and naturalist, Dr. Alfred R. Wallace, mentions it as a common drink in some of the islands of the Malay Archipelago. “One of the few luxuries of Matabello,” he says, “is the palm-wine, which is the fermented sap from the flower-stems of the cocoa-nut. It is really a very nice drink, more like cider than beer, though quite as intoxicating as the latter.”⁠[8] And instances might be multiplied indefinitely to show that perfectly savage races have probably had intoxicating drinks peculiar to themselves before they were known to the civilised world.⁠[9] Dalzel first noticed native intoxicating drink on the coast of Dahomey; Bosman on the coast of Guinea; Bowditch, who visited Ashantee in 1817, found its inhabitants well supplied with palm-wine.⁠[10] Several of the Tartar tribes make an intoxicating drink called koomiss from mares’-milk, and there is no doubt they have done so [6]from time immemorial. But perhaps the most convincing facts are those mentioned by Schweinfurth,⁠[11] which may be quoted to show that not only do savage races possess their own inebriating liquors, but that they reflect in an exaggerated manner all the other vices of civilisation that usually accompany intemperance.

In one part of his travels Schweinfurth sojourned with a tribe from whom he heard of the existence of another, still more remote, who were regarded with great fear and superstition. They were called “Mam-Mam,” great eaters (cannibals), and had been until recently considered, even by the tribe from whom Schweinfurth obtained his information, as mythical beings. He subsequently visited them, and found them to be more highly civilised than he had expected. They possessed more than one kind of intoxicating drink. That which pleased them the best, he says, was prepared from Eleusine coracana, a cereal, and the skill with which it was manufactured gave it a fair claim to be called beer. He says it is bright, of a reddish pale colour, and is regularly brewed from the malted grain, without the addition of any extraneous ingredient; it has a pleasant bitter flavour derived from the dark husks. How large is the proportion of beer consumed by the Mam-Mam, he says, may be estimated by simply observing the ordinary way in which they store their corn. As a regular rule, there are three granaries allotted to each dwelling, of which two are made to suffice for the supply which is to contribute the meal necessary for the household, whilst the other is entirely devoted to the grain that has been malted. [7]Whilst the same traveller was staying with another tribe on one of the branches of the White Nile, he was present at a harvest festival of the natives, which we will allow him to describe in his own language:—“For two nights and a day, whilst I was at Geer, the natives were abandoning themselves to their wild orgies, which now for the first time I saw in their full unbridled swing. The festival was held to celebrate the sowing of the crops, and confident in the hope that the coming season would bring abundant rains, these light-hearted Bongo anticipated their harvest. For the preparation of their beer they encroached very lavishly upon their corn stores, quite indifferent to the fact that for the next two months they would be reduced to the necessity of grubbing after roots and devouring any chance bird or even any creeping thing that might come in their way. Incredible quantities of ‘legyee’ were consumed, so as to raise the party to the degree of excitement necessary for so prolonged a revel. In honour of the occasion there was produced a large array of musical instruments, but the confusion of sound beggared the raging of all the elements, and made me marvel as to what music might come to. They danced till their bodies reeked again with the oil of the butter-tree. Had they been made of india-rubber, their movements could scarcely have been more elastic; indeed, their skins had all the appearance of gutta-percha. The whole scene was more like a fantoccini than any diversion of living beings.”⁠[12]

It is frequently assumed that because civilised nations were the first to introduce ardent spirits amongst certain savage tribes, therefore they must have [8]been previously unacquainted with intoxicating drinks. The Indians of the New World are often referred to as an illustration. Without denying that there may have been tribes of North American Indians who were sober when they came into contact with Europeans, but who were soon debauched by the white man’s fire-water, it is certain that some of them at least had native drinks as well as the savages of other parts of the world. One of these was fermented maple juice, which was a favourite drink with some of the Red Indian tribes, and was offered to the white man along with the calumet of peace.⁠[13] There was, we are told, also a custom amongst the savage tribes residing on the Gulf of Mexico, the Mississippi, and Ohio, to disinter the bodies of their dead at a particular festival, and to consume a great quantity of native as well as foreign liquor, if they could obtain it, during the ceremony, which was one of very ancient origin.⁠[14]

And this leads us to another popular fallacy in regard to the effect of civilisation and its accompanying intemperance upon savage races. The impression formed by the general reader concerning the contact of whites with savages in Africa, North America, and elsewhere, is that the former bring their spirits with them, and with that agent exterminate the aborigines with whom they come in contact, whilst they, the whites, escape almost uninjured. But what are the facts of the case? The author has for many years been favourably situated for ascertaining the condition of affairs in Africa; he has conversed with men of culture who have resided for many years on the coast at various places of trade, and the consensus of opinion, as well as the facts that have been [9]narrated to him, point to a widely different conclusion. The exportation of strong drink from England to the west coast of Africa is enormous. It chiefly consists of rum; and by far the larger portion of this is forwarded into the interior, and is drunk out of sight amongst savage tribes who are rarely visited by Europeans. Some of it is consumed by the negroes on the coast, the whites, however, seldom taste it, their favourite beverages being brandy and gin. Twenty or thirty years since, the whites who were sent out to the coast were men of intemperate habits, many of whom succumbed to the influence of ardent spirits, in which they indulged very freely. The working blacks even then were more sober than their masters, although, no doubt, evil example had its influences. Now a far superior class of men represent the English firms on the coast, or, in many cases, intelligent negroes have become the principals, who consign produce to their agents and commission merchants in England. The result, so far as the employers are concerned, is, that there is, comparatively speaking, little drunkenness amongst them; and as to the negroes on the coast, the author has been told by friends who have resided there for periods varying from five to fifteen years, that they have never seen one intoxicated. But inasmuch as the importation of rum continues to be enormous, and the greater part of it is forwarded inland, it is clear that if drunkenness is to be found anywhere (and it is known to the missionaries to exist), it must be amongst those savages who are removed from the influences of civilisation.

The unbridled passion of the savage for intoxicating drink, whether he be the savage of the back-woods [10]or of the city, as compared with the same quality in a man of culture, has been forcibly put by one of our leading historians. Alison says⁠[15] that an Iroquois, when he sits down beside a cask of spirits, often inserts a straw into a hole which he has bored in the wood, and sucks the intoxicating draught until he drops down dead, whilst a gentleman, with a good cellar of champagne, falls into no such excesses, because he has other enjoyments which are inconsistent with or prove a counterpoise to the first seductions of sense. He (the historian) goes on to show by figures that drunkenness is essentially a savage vice.⁠[16] Whilst in 1838 the spirits consumed in England was about half-a-gallon (strictly 0.53) per head of the population, in Ireland it was 1.32, in Scotland 2.46, and in Australia 5.02 gallons per head. These figures have changed materially since 1838, but the principle remains the same. Only last year the author had a practical example of its operation. In the course of a tour in Norway, he had occasion to stay two or three days at Tromsoe, a small town on the coast within the Arctic circle. Whilst there, he visited in the vicinity an encampment of Laplanders, known as the “Summer Lapps,” from the fact of their descending from the higher lands to the coast at that season in search of pasture for their reindeer. To tourists, who only pay them a passing visit, they seem a very interesting race, but to the people of the town, which they frequent almost daily, they are a great nuisance. Their habits are very [11]intemperate, and the author was told that it is by no means unusual for one of the men to drink a tumblerful of raw spirit at a draught, and almost immediately to sink down intoxicated, and that, to them, is the height of enjoyment.

Without, therefore, attempting to dogmatise on a question of such extended application, and one which presents such varying aspects, as the instinct for drink and the prevalence of drunkenness amongst savage peoples, it is safe to affirm, first, that wherever and from whatever source any intoxicating beverage has been obtainable, the untutored races have not been slow to discover its use. Secondly, that when civilised men have introduced a stronger drink than that already possessed by the natives, it has been in the majority of cases readily consumed by them, and that the further they were removed from the moderating influence of civilisation the more uncontrolled has been the passion for drink and the greater its indulgence.

And now, before proceeding to investigate the facts of history and tradition concerning the employment of intoxicating drinks by the nations of the world, let us endeavour to ascertain where the earliest traces are to be found of the existence of those natural productions which have been used in their preparation. The palm-tree, of course, existed in the tropical regions probably long before man appeared upon the scene, and that its sap was employed for the manufacture of wine between five hundred and six hundred years before Christ, we know from the pages of Herodotus,⁠[17] but that is comparatively recent. Of the employment of barley and other cereals for intoxicating beverages [12]in remote ages of the past we have also abundant evidence, to which reference will be made hereafter. The origin of the vine, or rather its first application to drinking purposes, is a much-debated question. The Romans and Greeks believed Dionysus (Bacchus) to have employed it first for wine-making. Representations of vineyards with grape-gatherers and wine-presses are to be found on the monuments of ancient Egypt; whilst in the Hebrew scriptures Noah is the first man mentioned as having cultivated the grape. These circumstances will be touched upon when we come to deal with the drinking customs of the various nations to whom they relate, but they are only named here to show that the grape and such cereals as barley were employed at a very early age for the preparation of inebriating drinks, for we are in possession of facts which fix the period when these materials were known and in use long prior to that indicated even by tradition.

During the last few years, scientific research has revealed to mankind the presence of remains which prove beyond a doubt that, during the age known as the Stone Period, there were already colonies of partially civilised men whose dwellings were built upon piles driven into the beds of certain lakes then existing in Switzerland and other parts of Europe. The age of those lake-dwellings—“Pfahlbauten,” as they are called in Germany—is variously estimated at from three thousand to seven thousand years;⁠[18] and with the piles upon which they were constructed, and some of which are in a good state of preservation, there have been found associated various substances which prove, as [13]just stated, that the lake-dwellers had already attained a certain standard of civilisation. If our space permitted, and if it fell within the scope of this treatise, nothing would be more interesting than to study fully the character of those remains. All we can do here, however, is to point out some of the evidences they afford of the condition of the colonists, so as to enable the reader to judge for himself whether or not they were likely to have been acquainted with the use of intoxicating beverages. That they lived contemporaneously with the urus, the wild progenitor of our domesticated cattle, and that they waged constant war with the bear and the wolf, is proved by the remains of those animals being found in considerable quantities. They had already acquired, too, the art of cooking food, as is testified by charred bones, grain, and fruit. They tilled the ground; for amongst the numerous remains of cereals some are undoubtedly cultivated varieties.⁠[19] They possessed domesticated animals, such as cows, pigs, sheep, and goats. Their rude dwellings, built upon piles in the lakes, to protect them from the attacks of wild animals, and from races of men more untutored than themselves, had some architectural pretensions. Their implements for domestic use, especially the pottery, were truly works of art, however primitive their manufacture, and those, along with their clothing, which was made of textile fabrics, point to a long antecedent experience in the industrial arts. But this is not all; for they knew how to utilise seeds from which oil is produced. A whole cake made from the seeds of the garden or opium [14]poppy has been found at Robenhausen, in a lake-dwelling in the peat moor on the southern side of the Lake of Pfäffikon,⁠[20] which had been pressed for oil, and was probably intended to be used by the inhabitants themselves, or else given to their domesticated cattle. And those ancient people, who lived in wooden houses, habited themselves in woven cloths, practised agriculture, and possessed some acquaintance with a rude kind of art, were also well acquainted with the grape, with various other descriptions of fruit, such as apples, pears, plums, and cherries, and with more than one variety of barley; for charred and dried apples and pears, stones of grapes, as well as of the fruits named (amongst many others), and whole ears of barley, have been discovered in greater or less quantities amongst these interesting remains of a pre-historic civilisation.

Whether or not, then, these primitive races had discovered, or were still ignorant of the existence of intoxicating beverages, surrounded as they were by so many natural products liable to alcoholic fermentation, we must leave the reader to judge for himself, and quitting now the region of surmise and speculation, we must ask him to accompany us whilst we set foot upon the firm ground of fact, as revealed in history and in popularly accepted tradition.⁠[21]

Nothing can be more interesting and instructive than to study the drinking propensities of the earliest races of mankind, for it is impossible to consider those without at the same time becoming acquainted with their social customs, their family life, the tone of their religious thought, and much that is important in regard to their national history. In order to attain this object, we will adopt, generally speaking, the most recent classification of the great human family into the Aryan, the Semitic, and the Turanian groups, and will select one or more typical nations to represent each, for special consideration.

From the Turanian branch, with which we shall first deal, we propose in this chapter to single out the great Chinese empire for consideration, taking no account of the savage tribes of Asia and Polynesia, nor of the Lapps and Finns, who, roughly speaking, complete that subdivision of mankind.

Next we shall deal with the main branches of the Aryan family, the ancient inhabitants of India, Persia, and Central Asia; and in a later portion of the work, [16]their descendants in the empires of ancient Greece and Rome, and subsequently those of modern Europe and America, will demand and receive our attention. Lastly, we shall investigate the drinking habits of the Semitic family, the ancient Hebrews, the ancient Egyptians, and the followers of Mahomet.

The Chinese believe themselves to be the most ancient people in the world, and from the accounts which follow it will be seen that they may at least lay claim to a very early civilisation. Their greatest philosopher, whose name has been handed down to modern times as Confucius, lived in the fifth century before Christ, his death being fixed at 478 B.C., and one of his disciples, Mencius, who was almost as highly honoured as himself, flourished about two centuries later, dying 288 B.C. These two great men left behind them many original precepts and adages, but they are also believed to have edited and perfected a series of books or “Kings” which had been handed down from generation to generation long before their time; and it is from those books that we shall be able to collect information in regard to the drinking habits of ancient China, and their influence upon the destinies of the people. But although it will be anticipating somewhat in regard to time, we cannot help thinking that our readers would like to know something concerning the habits of the great teacher himself, whose name is most familiar to European ears as one of the regenerators of our race.

Confucius was a highly cultivated literary man of his time, whose instruction was reverently listened to by princes and nobles, but who led a simple and abstemious life. His dress was very unostentatious, and he [17]is said to have avoided the bright colours which were usually worn by men of high rank in his day. Some amusing details are given of his apparel.⁠[22] His night-dress, we are told, was always half as long again as his body, which is of itself a proof of the advances that had been made in civilisation by the Chinese at that early date, for in our country, even in the thirteenth century or later, kings and queens are said to have slept in a state of complete nudity.⁠[23] Once every month Confucius donned his court robes to pay his devoirs to his prince, and he was also very particular as to the vestments which he wore during sacrifices. He had all the dignity of his race, and his mode of bowing and of conversing with his superiors and inferiors is described as courteous and appropriate. When not occupied in court or other ceremonies, his countenance was smiling and affable. Of his domestic habits we have ample details. He usually ate rice, with small portions of meat and fish, but he never tasted those if they were becoming putrified,⁠[24] from which it would appear that “gamey” food was not unknown to the epicures of his day. The amount of drink of which he partook was not restricted, but he never indulged so far as to “disturb his understanding,” a circumstance which naturally leads us to infer that hard drinking was then no uncommon practice at the tables of the rich.

The teachings of Confucius relate chiefly to the higher branches of ethics, the means of attaining perfection, and the rules of good government. They treat [18]in general terms of vice and virtue, and it was not often that he descended to the consideration of particular sins. Occasionally, however, we find sentences which throw light upon Chinese society in his day. “The superior man,” he says, “when he is at table does not seek to glut his appetite. When he is in his house he does not indulge in the enjoyments of indolence and effeminacy.”⁠[25] “Ki-chi (a noble of the kingdom of Lou) employed eight troupes of musicians at his family fêtes. If he can allow himself to act thus, of what is he not capable?”⁠[26] “I see no fault in Yu; he was sober in eating and drinking.”⁠[27] “When you are abroad,” said the philosopher, “pay your respects to your superior magistrates.... Be not given to excess in the use of wine.”⁠[28]

His disciple Mencius makes more frequent references to the vice of drunkenness. He speaks of the excessive use of wine in the sacrifices.⁠[29] “The vices,” he says, “which, according to the custom in our day, are called defects of filial piety, are five in number.... Loving to play chess,⁠[30] and to drink instead of fulfilling one’s duties to father and mother, is the second defect of filial piety.”

Judging from the writings of these two sages, however, we should, perhaps, be disposed to think that drunkenness was not a flagrant vice in their day, for whilst directions are given over and over again concerning religious rites and observances, the duties of princes, obedience and reverence to parents; whilst [19]both princes and people are warned against voluptuousness and extravagance, we seldom find drunkenness referred to, and never as a dangerous and prevalent vice. But long before their time a very different state of things must have prevailed, for the “Shoo-King, or History,”⁠[31] and the “She-King, or Book of Ancient Poetry,”⁠[32] teem with evidences of the over-indulgence in wine, as well as what are called “spirits,” and it is to those records that we must now turn in order to acquire a fuller knowledge of the subject. That the use of intoxicating drinks was not absolutely forbidden, but was sanctioned under certain conditions, is clear, both from the poems as well as the prose writings of the period. Here is an extract from the “Shoo-King, or History,”⁠[33]—“Ye people of the Land of Mei, if you can employ your limbs largely, cultivating your millet, and hastening about in the service of your fathers and elders, and if, with your cart and oxen, you traffic to a distance, that you may thereby filially minister to your parents, then when your parents are happy, you may set forth your spirits clear and strong, and you may use them. Hearken constantly to my instructions, all ye high officers, ye assistants, and all ye noble chiefs; when you have hugely done your duty in ministering to your aged and serving your sovereign, you may eat and drink freely and to satiety.”

This forms part of what is called “The Announcement about Drunkenness,” an imperial edict believed to have been promulgated about 1116 B.C., to which we shall refer again presently; but in order to show beyond [20]a doubt that the use of intoxicating drinks in moderation was sanctioned at that period, we will quote one or two short notes of the commentators in the “Shoo-King” relating to the subject. One of them, Soo-ting-po, says, “Spirits are what men will not do without. To prohibit them and secure a total abstinence from them is beyond the power even of sages. Here, therefore, we have warnings on the abuse of them.” Another, Nan-heen, says, “Strong drink is intended to be used in offering sacrifices and entertaining guests; such employment of it is what Heaven has prescribed.” A third, speaking of Prince Fung, to whom the “Announcement about Drunkenness” is addressed, says, “The people of Yin had followed the example of their sovereign, and the vice of drunkenness with its attendant immoralities extensively characterised the highest and lowest classes of society. One of Fung’s most difficult tasks in his administration would be to correct this evil habit, and he is, in this book, summoned to the undertaking. He is instructed in the proper and the allowable uses of spirits; the disastrous consequences of drunkenness are strikingly set forth: he is called to roll back the flood of its desolation from his officers and people.”

And as to the “Announcement” itself, a most strange and interesting document, it recites the cautions which had been addressed by preceding monarchs to the great officers of state, pointing out that “for sacrifices spirits should be employed.” But it proceeds to say, in quaint and forcible terms, that “our people have been greatly disorganised and lost their virtue, which can be traced to their indulgence in spirits.” “Yea, the ruin of states great and small” is invariably traced to the same cause, the use of spirits. “King Wan,” it says, “admonished [21]and instructed the young and all who were charged with office and employment that they should not ordinarily use spirits” but only on occasion of sacrifices, “and then that virtue should preside, so that there might be no drunkenness.” The edict goes on to show how a long line of ancestors had practised self-denial, “from T’ang the successful to the Emperor Yih,” setting an excellent example to their ministers and servants, they not daring to indulge in drunkenness; but that “the last successor of those kings was addicted to drink,” so that (to put it in the phraseology of the Flowery Land of old), “No charges came from him brightly before the people, and he was reverently and unchangingly bent on doing and cherishing what provoked resentment. He gave himself up completely to spirits; and though the extinction of the dynasty of Yin was imminent, this gave him no concern, and he wrought not that any sacrifices of fragrant virtue might ascend to heaven. The rank odour of the people’s resentments, and the drunkenness of his herds of creatures, went loudly up on high, so that Heaven sent down ruin on Yin, and showed no love for Yin, because of such excesses. There is not any cruel oppression of Heaven; people themselves accelerate their guilt and its punishment.” We have only space for the concluding mandate of the “Announcement,” which runs as follows: “If you are told that there are companies who drink together, do not fail to apprehend them all and send them to Chow, where I will put them to death. As to the ministers and officers of Yin, who have been led to it and been addicted to drink, it is not necessary to put them to death; let them be taught for a time. If they keep these lessons, I will give them [22]bright distinction. If you disregard my lessons then, I, the one man, will show you no pity. As you cannot cleanse your way, you shall be classed with those who are to be put to death. The king says, “O Fung, give constant heed to my admonitions. If you do not manage right, your officers and the people will continue lost in drink.”

This “Announcement,” although to us it seems somewhat vague it its wording, very clearly proclaims certain facts. That drunkenness had taken such a hold upon the people as to threaten the ruin of the empire of China more than one thousand years B.C.; that the chief ruler feared to deal with nobles and ministers of state as with the common people (“one law for the rich and another for the poor”); that the punishment of death was at least threatened in the attempt to enforce sobriety; that total abstinence was not deemed to come within the province of legislative enactment; and that it was proper to use strong drink in religious ceremonies.⁠[34] But we may learn far more than this from the ancient records. The “Book of Poetry” (“She-King”) gives us some very interesting details of the domestic, social, and religious life of the period, and we shall have no difficulty in transporting ourselves back three thousand years or more, and of witnessing in imagination the gatherings which are so graphically delineated.

The popular drink appears to have been “spirits” [23]prepared from rice and strained, as we shall find from the poems of which extracts follow, and these spirits were drunk on all occasions. The religious festivals seem to have been accompanied, as some are even in our day, by social entertainments; and the drinking-songs and pastorals show that although temperance was esteemed a virtue, it was one which was not always practised on those occasions.

The two following verses are extracts from an ode descriptive of life in the land of Pin in the olden time; the date is uncertain, but it was probably more than eleven hundred years B.C.⁠[35]

Thus it would appear that, after completing their harvest and sweeping their cornyards clean, those ancient people went to greet their rulers, as shown in the preceding verses, and they also offered sacrifices to the gods. Those customs are well described in verse:—

Their potations were drunk from the horn of the rhinoceros, as already stated, and also from gourds—two substances which were in use amongst the most primitive races, and of which we shall repeatedly find mention made hereafter:—

That their revels were often protracted there can be no doubt whatever from the following:—

And such entertainments are not confined to the lower classes only, but are given by all ranks of society. The following describes temperate feasting, the host being the king himself:—

But the royal topers are not always so bepraised. The reader will recollect in the “Announcement about Drunkenness” a virtuous King Wan is mentioned, who admonished princes and rulers not to indulge too freely in strong drink. Whether or not the following is the same we are unable to say, but—

The middle classes, too, indulged freely, and often entertained their family connections at drinking parties:—

The “She-King” is full of poems which relate to the drinking habits of the ancient Chinese, and one of them, called “The Pin-che-tsoo-yen: Narrative against Drunkenness,”⁠[44] too long for transference to these pages, gives a vivid picture of the licence of the period. It describes an archery match, followed by a festival, at which many of the guests became intoxicated, and their behaviour is narrated in rather amusing terms, one verse telling the reader that—

The perusal of this poem, which we should recommend to the reader who is curious in such matters, shows that many of our customs date back as far as those ancient days. The company began by drinking the health of the ruling sovereign, and at the head of the table was a “chairman,” who decided disputes, and was assisted by a “vice.”

Both poetry and prose records, then, indicate to us that in the very earliest times there already existed in China those drinking propensities which have exercised so powerful an influence for evil upon the character of nations. The odes and poems range over a period of two or three thousand years, and there may have been times at which comparative sobriety was a national characteristic, as it has again become in modern China and in the East generally; but certain facts are clear, namely, that in ancient China all classes of society, from the king to the peasant, [27]indulged freely in “spirits,” or intoxicating drinks prepared from cereals; that the use of such drinks was sanctioned by the priests in their religious ceremonials, and that their consumption entered largely, as in our day, into the practice of hospitality. Great efforts were evidently made both by legislative enactments of the severest kind, and through the teaching of sages, to suppress drunkenness, which threatened at one time to subvert the Empire. Nay, it is probable that the excessive use of drink and its accompanying vices caused the downfall of one or more dynasties, and it is quite certain that the people rose in rebellion against their debauched rulers and their servants, whose tyranny was aggravated by their drinking propensities, and who themselves committed the very crimes from which they should have protected the masses. But how a people whose history, three thousand years since, presented such features as these, should not only have maintained their national existence, but should have become sober, it is difficult to explain. The change is no doubt owing chiefly to the spread of the Buddhist religion in China. In the practices of the ancient idolatry drunkenness was a prominent characteristic, as we shall find it to have been also in the religious observances of the Aryan nations; but Gautama Sâkya, the Buddha (or enlightened), who lived in India about the sixth century, B.C.,⁠[45] founded a religion in which total abstinence was a rule of the priesthood, as it had already been a [28]Brahminical law. For the laity he promulgated ten commandments which interdicted murder, theft, adultery, lying, intoxication, voluptuousness, and extravagance, whilst to the priests were enjoined total abstinence from the use of intoxicating drinks, mendicancy, and fasting of the severest description.

On entering his noviciate the young Buddhist priest vows, “I will observe the precept or ordinance that forbids the use of intoxicating drinks, that lead to indifference towards religion;” and he also renounces every other human enjoyment, along with most of the necessaries of life.⁠[46] His dress was of the meanest, if a few tatters can be called dress; his food was barely sufficient to keep body and soul together, such as a small portion of rice; he was a professed mendicant, going from place to place with an almsbowl. His day was employed in religious observances, meditation, penance, and self-mortification; in short, he became an ascetic of the strictest order, and it was his duty to teach virtue and morality to the multitude. “It is ever the rule of the Buddhas to proclaim first the reward to be received for the giving of alms, and then to enforce the precepts. The four great virtues are almsgiving, affability, promoting the prosperity of others, and loving others as ourselves.” “But there is no reward to him who gives intoxicating liquors, ... or gives to those who only dance and sing, or exhibit indecencies, or make obscene paintings on some public place.”⁠[47] These ordinances and dogmas give us at once a vivid picture of the morality of the age, and show us the means that were taken to reform its vices. The Buddhist religion, [29]than which none has been more abused and less understood, spread rapidly throughout China, and there can be no doubt that such a code, supported by the example of its administrators, and operating as it has done for more than two thousand years, must have exercised a very beneficial influence on the national character.

There are, indeed, many who will unhesitatingly say that drunkenness is a sin almost unknown in China at the present day, but that is undoubtedly an exaggeration; and before closing this chapter we will endeavour to form as correct an estimate as possible of the condition of the modern Chinese in that respect. In doing so, it must however be remembered that the temporary oblivion which seems to possess such a charm for vast numbers of people, and which is induced in other countries by means of intoxicants, is attained in China through opium, supplied from India, to our shame be it said, by Englishmen who are protected by the laws of their country. It would be unwise to place too much reliance upon the statements of travellers in China, but it may safely be concluded from their narratives that between the tenth and sixteenth centuries of our era, the distillation of alcoholic drinks was known and practised there; and that in the early part of the present century not only spirits but native wines were drunk by all classes of the people. The chief natural productions which have been and are still employed for the manufacture of such drinks are rice and millet, from which a spirit called in Europe arrack or raki is distilled, and some idea may be formed of the extent to which these cereals were cultivated in past times from the fact that in 1696 the [30]quantity of rice and corn brought into the emperor’s stores as tribute was 43,328,834 sacks, along with 38,550 lbs. of dried fruits of various kinds. Besides the native liquors, China has imported beer, wines, and spirits from other countries. Between the years 1810 and 1820 beer to the value of £14,309, and wine in bottles and packages valued at £7383, were sent to China by the East India Company, and in the year ending January 5, 1819, the Americans sent 1000 gallons of gin into Canton. The importation of all these liquors and of European wines of other descriptions has since then been constantly increasing.⁠[48]

Morewood mentions that numbers of carts loaded with raki entered Pekin daily in his time, and that the liquor was distributed over 1000 taverns; but it should be stated that this proportion of public-houses to the total number of inhabitants is very small compared with those of England, and in China there is no restriction whatever on the sale of intoxicating drink. The Chinese public-houses are, moreover, not mere drinking-shops, but wherever a number of guests are assembled, they usually partake of solid food as well as drink, and during their meals they are entertained with comedies or musical performances. Private drinking parties, called wine clubs, are, however, not uncommon, especially amongst young men, who assemble at each other’s houses or at such places as may be selected, the expenses being defrayed by the members in rotation. On such occasions the day is spent in feasting, wine-drinking, card-playing, and such other amusements as [31]may be suggested by the host for the time being.⁠[49] The liquors drunk are distilled from red and white rice (which impart to them their colours), and sometimes from potatoes, beans, or sugar-cane. The juice of the grape is not used, and the Chinese native wine is in reality whisky, which is drunk hot from cups of small dimensions.⁠[50] The latter fact does not, however, necessarily limit the quantity of liquor consumed, for in some cases thirty or forty rounds are drunk.

The older people have similar feasts in connection with their trade guilds, of which interesting descriptions have been given both by travellers and residents. One of the latter, Mr. Giles, who was long connected with the British Consular service, has published a graphic account of modern China, in which he gives minute details of these social gatherings. On one occasion he was present at a Chinese dinner-party of six native gentlemen, who occupied seats at what he calls a four-legged “eight fairy” table. Before each guest there was a pair of chopsticks, a wine-cup, a small saucer of soy, a two-pronged fork, a spoon, a tiny plate divided into two separate compartments for melon seeds and almonds, and a pile of small pieces of paper for cleaning these various articles as required. On the table was a kind of dessert consisting of dried fruits as with us, and in the centre there were slices of ham, sardines, &c., as is the custom in Sweden, Norway, and Russia. “Wine,” he says,⁠[51] “is produced the first thing, and poured into small porcelain cups by the giver [32]of the feast himself. It is polite to make a bow and place one hand at the side of the cup while this operation is being performed. The host then gives the signal to drink, and the cups are emptied instantaneously, being often turned bottom upward as a proof that there are no heel-taps. Many Chinamen, however, cannot stand even a small quantity of wine, and it is no uncommon thing, when the feast is at an eating-house, to hire one of the theatrical singing-boys to perform vicariously such heavy drinking as may be required by custom or exacted by forfeit.”⁠[52] We will not pursue the description further, adding only that amongst the dishes provided at this particular dinner-party were sharks’ fins with crab sauce, pigeon’s eggs stewed with mushrooms, sliced sea-slugs in chicken-broth with ham, stewed lily roots, and lumps of parboiled mutton fried in pork fat.

The same author’s observations concerning the moral condition of the lower classes are equally interesting. He seems disposed to make light of opium-smoking, and does not consider it nearly such a pernicious custom as gin-drinking in England. He considers the working classes remarkably sober, a drunken husband being the exception; and during eight years’ residence in China, he says he never saw a drunken man in the streets. “Opium-smokers we have seen in all stages of intoxication, but no drunken brawls, no bruised and bleeding wives.” One thing is, however, certain; the inability to procure intoxicating liquor has as much to do with the sobriety of the poor Chinaman as the absence of a taste for drink; for, as Mr. Giles says, it is as much as he can [33]do to feed his family, which consists not only of his wife and children but his parents also; and he has besides to provide a supply of rice for uncles, cousins, &c.; hence it follows that every cash earned either by the man or woman goes towards procuring food and clothing instead of enriching the keepers of grog-shops.⁠[53] This is an important consideration, and one that should not be lost sight of, when we look at the relations between the earnings of working people and their expenditure on drink. China, like many other countries in which wealth is unequally distributed, may at some future time, when her working classes are more prosperous, have to contend again with the national vice which was so prevalent during her early civilisation.

We are now about to consider the drinking propensities of our own remote ancestry—of those from whom most of the inhabitants of modern Europe and the Transatlantic continents are descended; and should there exist in the mind of any of our readers a doubt as to the enormous advances that have been made in civilisation since the earliest historic period, we think that doubt will be dispelled for ever.

The religious and moral condition of the Aryan races of India is to be found impressed upon the sacred writings of the ancient Brahmans, for a knowledge of which we are largely indebted to that industrious student of Sanskrit, Professor Max Müller of Oxford, who considers that the period embraced by the Rig-Veda or Sacred Books extended back indefinitely from 1200 B.C., and that the hymns which they contain were first committed to writing between 600 and 200 B.C.,⁠[54] about the same time, therefore, as the writings of Confucius and Mencius were published in China.

And what can these Brahminical writings teach us concerning the drinking customs of the people? the reader may inquire. At the risk of offending his susceptibilities, and even of laying ourselves open to the charge of irreverence, we will ask him what he would think of a body of worshippers in our day, who, instead of addressing their hymns and prayers to the Almighty Father and Ruler of the universe, the One ineffably good, and wise, and holy, were to appeal to Him as a mighty Ruler in heaven who was to be propitiated and bribed with unlimited offerings of brandy, and who, until he became completely intoxicated, was incapable of performing any great or benevolent act? And yet this, or even lower than this, was the estimate which the Aryan people had formed of their god Indra, as well as of his less powerful companions in heaven; and the only inference we are able to draw—one that we are sure the reader would extract from the study of those so-called hymns—is that the nature of the Deity was but a reflex of the character of his worshipping multitudes.

The chief sacrificial ceremony of the ancient Brahmans was called “soma,” after an intoxicating drink to be described presently; and the deity to whom this drink was believed to be the most acceptable was Indra. The “soma” sacrifice was and is still performed by the Brahmans as follows:—A certain quantity of the intoxicating juice is offered as a libation to the different deities by pouring it from variously shaped wooden vessels upon the sacred fire. This the gods are supposed to drink. Then the priests themselves drink, sometimes very copiously; also the [36]sacrificer.⁠[55] The drink itself is believed to have been prepared with the juice of a creeper (Asclepias). After being cleaned and macerated in water, the plant was pressed between two stones, and the juice which flowed from it was diluted with water, and strained through ram’s wool. This juice was then mixed with malt and warm milk or clarified butter, and was allowed to ferment. M. Haug, who witnessed the sacrifices of the modern Brahmans, tasted the “soma” as at present prepared, and describes it as whitish, very astringent and bitter, with some intoxicating properties. He says it had a most disagreeable taste, and he could only drink a few spoonfuls of it. The plant used in the present day is, however, not that employed by the ancient Brahmans. “Soma,” it should be added, was not only a drink, but is frequently addressed in the Vedas as a deity; and, by priestly incantations, the liquor was believed to be miraculously transformed into the god himself. It is not unlikely that this was the origin of the modern doctrine of transubstantiation, or the real presence of the body and blood of Christ, through priestly consecration, in the bread and wine of the Eucharist; and it is strange how universal has been the practice of combining the use of intoxicating drink with religious worship throughout all ages. It is first found in connection with the early religious observances of the Persian, Brahminical, and Chinese faiths. It was forbidden by the Buddhists. Commencing with the Semitic sacrifices, it has retained its place in the ceremonies of the modern Jews, and has found its way into the worship of every denomination of Christians, [37]from the Unitarians to the Roman Catholics. Without attempting to discuss the proposition of some total abstainers that the wine used at the Lord’s Supper was not an intoxicating drink,⁠[56] we cannot help remarking that until the custom, however nominal, ceases to receive the highest possible sanction—the approval of the Church and the priesthood—it seems idle to attempt to suppress or discountenance the use of alcohol by coercive measures amongst the lay members of society.

But to proceed. The Rig-Veda from beginning to end abounds with references to the supposed drinking proclivities of the deities, especially of Indra. To the effect of the libations poured out to him by his worshippers all his gifts are attributed. “Come hither, O Indra, to our sacrifice. Drink of the soma, O soma-drinker; thine intoxication is that which gives us abundance of cows.”⁠[57] “Come hither, O Indra, and intoxicate thyself.”⁠[58] Indra was not believed to be capable of accomplishing any heroic deed unless he was intoxicated. For example, “When he (Indra) combated against the withholder of rain (Vritra), in his inebriation, the refreshing rain rushed down the declivity like rivers.”⁠[59] “When Indra, animated by [38]soma, destroyed the defences of Vala with the thunderbolt, as did Trita.” Just as in one of the Hebrew psalms every verse ends with the words, “For His mercy endureth for ever,” so in one hymn to Indra each verse concludes as follows: “In the intoxication which soma has caused him, see what Indra has accomplished.”⁠[60] The account of his toping powers is in some cases ludicrous, for he is described as taking such copious draughts of soma that his inside becomes like a fish-pond,⁠[61] and it is made a merit in him that he is reeling drunk.⁠[62] From these quotations it is obvious that the Vedic people must have been well acquainted with the intoxicating power of soma-drink, or they would not have known what influence it would have upon their gods; and from the same source we may gather with equal certainty that they indulged freely in that beverage themselves. For they seem to have entertained no doubt that their gods were willing to join in their revels, and often invited them to come down and be partakers in their banquets. “Called by us, O Indra,” they said, “sit down and intoxicate thyself with us, thy friends.”⁠[63] They must have renewed old acquaintance amongst themselves, top, over what is called the social glass, for they treated their deities as hail-fellows-well-met, and invited them to do likewise. “Very old is your favour and your auspicious friendship,” they said to one of their gods; “renewing again that auspicious friendship, may we now in your society intoxicate ourselves with soma.”⁠[64] No mincing matters there! Nor was it [39]merely a figurative expression, for the sacrificer, or he at whose cost the sacrifice was provided, as well as the priests, drank soma during the ceremony until they were all drunk together,⁠[65] but the hotar, or chief priest, commenced the operations: “Like the hotar, drink first of this soma, O Indra; we offer thee, O god, this sweet soma for inebriation.”⁠[66] In one place, Indra is described with great circumstantiality as getting drunk with soma-drink mixed with milk early in the morning, a proof that the priests occasionally indulged in a matutinal sip. Indeed, detailed accounts of the ceremonies are found throughout the hymns which show that the priests were inordinate drunkards; so much so, that in the later Vedas and in the “Institutes of Manu” a check was put upon such practices, and they were denounced as sinful.

But so too were the laity. There was another intoxicating drink besides soma of which mention is made in the Vedas. It was called “sura,” and was much more inebriating than soma, which was the drink of the sacrifices, and therefore the supposed beverage of the gods, whilst sura was that of the common people. The plant which, in the Vedic age, entered largely into its composition was a tall grass of India, one of the genus Panicum, and the other ingredients were water, curds, honey, melted butter, and barley.⁠[67] At a later period a liquor called sura seems to have been actually distilled from a preparation of rice, barley, black pepper, lemon juice, ginger, and hot water. The sura drink was in general use, and the proof alike of its extended consumption amongst the people, as well as of its being the cause of [40]much crime in those days, is to be found in several verses of the Vedic hymns. In one place it is spoken of as a poison, kept at home suspended in a leather bottle;⁠[68] in another, the excessive intoxication of Indra with soma is compared to the bad drunkenness caused by sura;⁠[69] and in a well-known verse quoted by Professor Max Müller,⁠[70] it is thus referred to:

The Rig-Veda is certainly the most extraordinary publication of a sacred character that can be imagined in respect to drink and drunkenness; and the space occupied by references to the potations of the gods—for there is hardly a hymn that is free from them—shows clearly that the Vedic people, both priests and laymen, must have been terrible drunkards, and must have believed their Deities to have been the same. At a somewhat later period, however, we find the habit denounced in forcible terms and the severest penalties attached to its practice; in fact, it is spoken of as heinous in the last degree, and is compared to the murder of a Brahman.

The laws of Manu⁠[71] contain a whole series of interdictions [41]and penalties, but the selection of two or three examples must suffice, for some of them, although interesting as showing the depraved condition of mankind at that early period, are not fit for transcription into the pages of a popular work. “Any twice born (that is, regenerated) man who has intentionally drunk the spirit of rice (sura) through perverse delusion of mind, may drink more spirit in flame and atone for his offence by severely burning his body.” “Or he may drink boiling hot, until he die, the urine of a cow, or pure water, or milk, or clarified butter, or juice expressed from cow-dung.” “If he tasted it unknowingly, he may expiate the sin of drinking spirituous liquor by eating only a little broken rice or grains of tila from which oil has been extracted, once every night for a whole year; wrapped in coarse vesture of hairs from a cow’s tail, or sitting unclothed in his house wearing his locks and beard uncut, and putting out the flag of a tavern-keeper.”

There are three chief descriptions of pernicious liquor forbidden to be drunk—one extracted from sugar dregs, another from bruised rice, and a third from the flowers of madhuca (Bassia latifolia). These, along with eight other kinds which were consumed with the flesh of animals at certain juncates or secret feasts, were forbidden to the Brahmans, for we are told that an intoxicated Brahman “might stumble upon something very impure, or might even when intoxicated pronounce a sacred phrase of the Veda, or might do some act that ought not to be done.” Even his priestly character left him if he had been polluted with spirits, and he sank to the low degree of a Sudra. “The slayer of a priest, a soldier, or merchant drinking arrack, or a priest drinking arrack, [42]mead, or rum, he who steals the gold of a priest” (and ...) “are all to be considered respectively as offenders of the highest degree, except those whose crimes are not fit to be named.” Terrible punishments, such as branding the forehead with a hot iron, were the penalties attached to those crimes, and “with none to eat with them, with none to sacrifice with them, with none to read with them, with none to be allied by marriage to them; abject and excluded from all social duties, let them wander over this earth. Branded with indelible marks, they shall be deserted by their paternal and maternal relations, treated by none with affection, received by none with respect. Such is the ordinance of Manu.” Nor is the punishment, terrible as it appears, supposed to end in this world, for the soul of a priest who has drunk spirituous liquors is consigned to the body of a “smaller or larger worm, or insect, a moth, a fly feeding on ordure, or some ravenous animal.”

Notwithstanding these severe penalties and denunciations, however, it is clear from the later Sanskrit literature that intoxication was still rife amongst the Aryan races of India. Palastya, an ancient sage, enumerates no less than twelve different kinds of liquor besides soma,⁠[72] and the preparation of those drinks from the grape, from honey, sugar, dates, the palm, pepper, rice, cocoa-nut, &c., has been described with considerable minuteness. Besides these home-made drinks, large quantities of foreign wines were imported into India two thousand years ago, and met with a ready sale throughout the country. Amongst them are mentioned the wine of Laodicea in Syria, Italian and Arabian wines.

In later times attempts were made by various rulers to suppress the manufacture and use of intoxicating drinks, but in the sixteenth century, when the interior of India was visited by English adventurers, many kinds were freely consumed, and they are said to have been drunk out of vessels of the most costly description. The East India Company encouraged the distillation of spirits as a means of revenue, and the best proof of the extensive consumption of such drinks in India during the last and beginning of the present century is to be found in the published statistics of the Company. Large quantities of native arrack, besides brandy, rum, gin, wine, and ale, were imported and exported from the various districts, and although the English themselves were, doubtless, large consumers, the quantities named suffice to show that these drinks must have been in general use amongst all classes.⁠[73] In the year 1833 the value of native arrack exported from Ceylon alone to Great Britain and the British Colonies was £12,425, 9s., besides which large quantities were sent annually for consumption in Madras, Bombay, and other parts of India.⁠[74]

We have thus reviewed, though very cursorily and superficially, the drinking habits and customs of the various peoples of India from the earliest ages down to a recent period; and before quitting this part of our subject, it will be useful to consider for a few moments the present condition of its inhabitants, who are allied to us, if not by ties of kindred, at least by identity of rule. All writers agree in regarding the people of India as a comparatively sober race, and the author finds the [44]same opinion to prevail amongst those who have long resided in the country. That there is a considerable amount of intoxication in certain districts, and amongst the lower or half-castes, is doubtless true; but the middle and upper classes, and the population as a whole, are remarkably abstemious. One writer⁠[75] says, “The Hindoos are unquestionably a temperate people. Their favourite beverage is water.” “Generally speaking,” he says, “the higher castes abstain from intoxicating drinks. It is only the low castes who indulge the habit of using such stimulants. The most common intoxicating liquor drunk by the natives is what is here called arrack. It is distilled from rice, and is highly intoxicating.” Toddy, or the juice of the palm, itself highly inebriating, the same writer tells us, is distilled into a strong liquor called Pariah arrack, and is largely drunk by the half-castes and lowest classes. It is further fortified, another writer says, by being mixed with Datura stramonium, a powerful narcotic.⁠[76] (Datura stramonium, as the reader is doubtless aware, is used in England for the adulteration of beer.) The drink referred to, along with another intoxicating liquor called bhang or bang, and prepared from the hemp plant (Cannabis sativa), seems in the present day to be the commonest, and at the same time the most deleterious, that is used by the worst class of drunkards in India.

In some portions of Central India there is at one period of the year a great amount of drunkenness and debauchery in every rank of society, and strangely enough this takes place, as of old, in connection with [45]religious observances. These saturnalia have been referred to by several travellers and writers on India. Fraser in his tour to the sources of the Jumna and Ganges witnessed them in various places near the first-named river, and generally at the foot of the Himalayas. He says that the liquors drunk were manufactured from grains of various kinds as well as from the grape, and that the natives of all classes drank them to the accompaniments of music and dancing at the ceremony of bathing the images of their gods in the waters of the Jumna. The men kept on dancing all the day, and in the evening were joined indiscriminately by the women, who supported the dancing and revelry till the night was far advanced. This frantic kind of worship lasted for several days, until their liquor was exhausted. A more recent traveller has given a graphic and painful account of these saturnalia as they are practised at the present time.⁠[77] He first witnessed them at Oudeypoor during the festival of the Holi which marks the arrival of spring, and says: “The carnival lasts several days, during which the most licentious debauchery and disorder reign throughout every class of society. It is the regular saturnalia of India. Persons of the greatest respectability, without regard to rank or age, are not ashamed to take part in orgies which mark this season of the year.” “Towards the middle of the month of Thalgun the revels reach their climax. Troops of men and women, wreathed with flowers and drunk with bang, crowd the streets carrying sacks full of a bright red vegetable powder. [46]With this they assail the passers-by, covering them with clouds of dust, which soon dye their clothes a startling colour. No one is spared. The King and nobles throw off all restraint and give themselves up to mirth and revelry. The nautch girls enjoy unbounded liberty during the carnival They have special dances for the occasion, when all propriety is forgotten.” “Major Nixon advised me to go and see the sports.... Men, women, and children crowned with flowers appeared completely intoxicated. Never have I seen so revolting a spectacle. Groups of native wretches dead drunk were wallowing in the gutters, and at every step the most disgusting debauchery was exhibited with unblushing effrontery.” The writer witnessed and describes similar scenes, though not of quite so gross a character, at Rajnuggur in Chutterpore.

Notwithstanding these saturnalia, however, which are disgraceful alike to governors and governed, the general opinion of those who are acquainted with India is that, on the whole, the people are temperate. The author has been assured by one friend who has visited most of the large cities, and who resided three years at Bombay, that during the whole of that period he never saw a native intoxicated in the streets; that the higher classes amongst the Hindoos and Parsees (to whom we shall refer hereafter), although they offer wine to their European guests during their visits, refrain from drinking it themselves, and that any drunkenness which may exist in the most civilised portions of the country is confined entirely to Englishmen and the lowest castes of the native population.

It is impossible to pass away from this phase of the subject without uttering a word of caution as regards [47]the future social condition of our Indian Empire. We hear a great deal about the bugbear of an invasion of India by the Russians, and if it were known that a statesman of any eminence was about to address our House of Commons on that question, its benches would be filled with eager listeners; but let any legislator or philanthropist, however great his reputation, take up the subject of the opium traffic, a detestable trade, which is not only a chronic curse to a great neighbouring empire, but which may at any time become a scourge to our own fellow-subjects, and we may rest assured that his audience would be of the most limited. And so, too, as regards all matters which concern the happiness and welfare of the people of India. But when we look at the facility which exists there for the distillation of ardent spirits from rice, the attention of our Legislature should be earnestly directed to the evil that might result from their more general use, in case the means of purchasing them were facilitated by greater prosperity. It should be one of the chief cares of the Home and Colonial Governments to provide for the education and training of the poorer natives, so that they may learn to make a wise use of their increasing resources.

Those who have read accounts of military life in India fifty or a hundred years back are aware that there has been a marked diminution in drunkenness amongst the English of late years, and it is to be hoped that the same causes which have led to a decided improvement in that respect amongst our middle class at home will likewise operate in India, and that our countrymen there may soon present that example of [48]sobriety and dignity which should always characterise the dominant race.⁠[78]

Although the social history of the branch of the Aryan family, which at a very early period spread itself over Persia and other parts of Asia, presents many features in common with that of the races described in our last chapter, yet we are bound to devote a few pages to the consideration of the followers of Zoroaster, partly to compare them with their modern descendants, and also in order that we may deal with the Mohammedan reform of drunkenness. This is the less to be regretted, as the close resemblance, in many respects, between the religious ceremonies of the two races is a guarantee of the accuracy with which both have been described in the ancient records. The literature of the Zoroastrian epoch is believed by some historians to extend back as far as 2800 B.C., but the period when the great master himself flourished is purely mythical. Like many of the ancient religious records, it is held by modern scholars to have grown gradually into a series of books, which assumed a definite form about 1000 years B.C. These sacred books—the Yaçna, the Vispered, and the Vendidad, collectively known as the Zend-Avesta—contain a [50]great deal that serves to enlighten us concerning the habits of the people for whose moral and religious guidance they were compiled. The chief facts may be gathered from the directions given for the performance of the sacrifices, more especially that of “homa” or “haoma,” the “soma” of the Brahmans.⁠[79] At that rite an intoxicating liquor was used that was prepared from a plant, concerning which we only know that it had yellow blossoms, and that the drink was called “parahaoma.” A similar drink to parahaoma, we are told, is taken in small quantities by the Parsee priests at the present day during their religious ceremonies.⁠[80] Thus it will be seen that in two important particulars the Brahminical and Zoroastrian rites were almost identical; and as “soma” in Sanskrit was “homa” in Zend, so the other intoxicating drink of the Vedas, namely, “sura,” is changed to “hura” in Zend; and we find in one place that a penance is enjoined upon sinners, namely, “to feed eighteen pure,” i.e., religious men, with meat and hura or wine.⁠[81] And finally, the Hotar or high priest of the Brahmans was Zaŏtar amongst the Zend worshippers. But that leads us to a most important difference between the two religions; for whilst intoxication seems to have been a cardinal feature in the ceremonies of the Brahmans, the Zoroastrians, although they permitted, and even prescribed, the use of inebriating drink in theirs, strictly forbade the practice of drunkenness. Indeed, it was considered to be the work of Agromanyus or Angrô-Mainyus (Ahriman), the power hostile to [51]Ahura-Mazda or Ahuro-Mazdâo (Ormuzd), the almighty god of the Zoroastrians; and even to simulate intoxication was regarded as sinful.

But neither of the two liquors, homa and sura, seems to have been employed by the lower classes in the sense in which it is used by the populace to-day. A third and very deleterious drink called “banga” is mentioned in the Zend-Avesta. It is there personified as a bad spirit, and is named in conjunction with two others as the demon of intoxication.⁠[82] Like the modern bang, referred to in our account of India, it is believed to have been extracted from the hemp plant (Cannabis sativa); and it may be interesting to mention that the same substance, somewhat modified in each case, is used in Turkey under the name of “hadschy,” in Arabia as “hashish,” and by the Hottentots as “dacha,” producing in all instances an intoxicating effect.

Whatever may have been the means employed in the earliest times, there is no doubt that, notwithstanding the prohibitions and denunciations of their religion, the ancient Persians were much addicted to intoxication.⁠[83] Of that we have evidence in the pages of Herodotus the Greek historian,⁠[84] who says that they were in the habit of discussing most public affairs of importance under the influence of wine, and that the landlord of the house where they met kept a record of their decisions, which he submitted for their approval on the following day. If these still met with their approbation, they were [52]adopted and carried into effect. Per contra, if they came to any resolution whilst they were sober, it was reconsidered and approved or disapproved under the influence of drink.⁠[85]

The same historian also tells us that Cyrus gave a feast to the Persians in which he provided rich wines;⁠[86] and the following story is narrated concerning that monarch, showing the excess to which drinking was carried in his day.⁠[87] Cyrus made war upon Tomyris, queen of the Massagetæ, a race living in Central Asia, and by the advice of Cræsus the Lydian, he made a feint of deserting his camp, and left “flowing goblets of wine” to tempt the enemy to excess. The stratagem succeeded, and when the enemy was drunk, he attacked him and took the queen’s son prisoner. Cyrus was, however, ultimately defeated and slain.

The drink here referred to was made from the vine, but Herodotus also mentions an incident which shows that palm-wine was drunk in the time of Cambyses (B.C. 529-522). “He (Cambyses) sent the Ichthyophagæ into Ethiopia with the following gifts, to wit, a purple robe, a gold chain for the neck, armlets, an alabaster box of myrrh, and a cask of palm-wine.” The king of the Ethiops was greatly delighted with those gifts, and “last of all he came to the palm-wine, and having learned their way of making it, he drank a draught, which greatly delighted him.”⁠[88]

Down to the time of the Saracen conquest of Persia in the first century of the Hegira (A.D. 621), we have no reason to believe that any serious attempt was made to suppress drunkenness, but by the Mohammedans the [53]use of intoxicating drink was at least nominally forbidden. The interdiction is found in the fifth chapter of the Koran, and runs as follows:—“O true believers, surely wine, and lots, and images, and divining arrows, are an abomination of the work of Satan; therefore avoid them that ye may prosper. Satan seeketh to sow dissension and hatred amongst you by means of wine and lots, and to divert you from remembering God and from prayer; will ye not therefore abstain from them?”⁠[89] But the same sacred volume of the Mohammedans also contains at least one if not more phrases which would seem to justify as legitimate the use of intoxicating drinks in moderation. In the sixteenth chapter, amongst God’s gifts we find, “And of the fruits of palm trees and of grapes ye obtain an inebriating liquor, and also good nourishment.”⁠[90] Notwithstanding the argumentative aspect of the question, however, Mussulmans themselves regard wine and other intoxicating liquors as unlawful, and a very large proportion of the faith, wherever they are found, really abstain from their use. That the abstinence is, however, far from universal, we find not only in considering the habits of those who reside in Persia, but also in Turks, Arabians, and Egyptians.⁠[91] That drunkenness was not suppressed in Persia is evident from the various stories narrated to [54]and by travellers, the debauchery of successive rulers, and the known consumption of large quantities of wine there in modern times. Morewood describes with great minuteness the Persian mode of making wine from the grape, and a kind of brandy which has long been distilled from the lees and weaker kinds of wine. Several descriptions of wine are named by him, of which Shiraz is the most highly esteemed; and quoting Tavernier, a traveller in Persia, he says that in his time 4125 tuns of that wine alone were made annually.⁠[92] Later writers confirm these statements, and Klemm, one of the ablest German sociologists, says that in Tavernier’s time a drink called, “bengueh,” prepared from herbs and fortified with hempseeds, was largely drunk. This liquor is evidently the “banga” of the Zoroastrians; and Klemm states that in the royal library at Dresden there is a valuable illuminated Persian MS. relating to its preparation and use. He also says that in the present day, in some houses in Persia, a kind of brandy called “kokemaar” is given to guests, and that it is prepared from the kernels of fruits, and is intoxicating in the highest degree.⁠[93]

Fraser says of the Mohammedans of Persia that in private they often solace themselves with copious libations from the wine-cup; that “in truth many of the Persians are great topers in spite of the prohibition of their Prophet; and when they betake themselves to this kind of pastime, they seldom stop short of absolute intoxication.... They see no disgrace in drunkenness, and envy Christians the supposed privilege of getting [55]tipsy when they choose, without check or reproach.”⁠[94] A still more recent traveller and author has published a graphic account of life in Persia which fully confirms these statements. Arthur Arnold says, “I have never seen people drink ardent spirits in such large quantities as some Mohammedans of station whom I met in travel. A Moslem prince lately asked me why I drank wine. ‘It does not make you drunk. I take arrack,’ he added. English doctors in the East are frequently summoned to cases of delirium tremens.... The rich Moslem drinks privately, the non-Mussulman publicly. The Moslem drinks at night, the non-Mussulman at all times.”⁠[95] Perhaps a majority of Mohammedans, he says, would refuse to drink intoxicating liquors, but taking a large body of servants, very few will regard the Koran as our Good Templars. Amongst the wandering tribes he found the prohibition quite unheeded, and the remarks which he makes concerning their customs, without any special intention to treat of their drinking habits, afford the best evidence of their intemperance. In one place,⁠[96] describing a native dinner-party, he says, “A servant walked round the room carrying a large bottle of arrack in one hand and wine in the other. The Khan took half a tumbler of the fiery spirit, and drank it off without winking; most of the guests preferred arrack.” Elsewhere he says, “The arrack and wine circulated.” He describes amongst the towns which he visited one he calls a temperance city.⁠[97] “In Koom we found it impossible to refill our empty wine bottles. [56]Something stronger than the Maine Liquor Law prevails in this sacred city, and in that of Meshed, where the brother of Fatima is buried. Intoxicating liquors appear absolutely unattainable, and intoxication is accomplished by those who desire that condition by bhang or opium.”

Mr. Arnold is one of those who consider that the Koran does not absolutely prohibit the use of stimulants, but only excess. He, however, seems to acknowledge that practically they are forbidden to Mussulmans. The reflection which naturally occurs to one who reads this account of the ancient and modern Persians, the Zoroastrians of old, and the modern Mohammedans who succeeded them, is that the mere prohibition of the use of intoxicating drinks, even if it has the sanction of religion, is not of itself sufficient to mould a people into sobriety. Where there is wealth without intelligence and education, and the passions are strong, as amongst the higher classes in the East, and in the West too, for that matter, “not even the sages,” as the old Chinese writer has it, “will prevent men from indulging in strong drink.” Hence the Mohammedans in Persia and elsewhere, although their religion strictly forbids its use, and although, as Mr. Arnold says, the majority may even be abstainers, cannot safely be set down as a race confirmed in habits of temperance. But, strictly speaking, we should not here have treated of the Mohammedans, who are not the descendants of the ancient Zoroastrians, and we must close this chapter with a brief reference to the existing community which lays claim to that title—the Parsees of India. Their head-quarters are notably in Bombay, and they are a small, enlightened, and comparatively wealthy community, [57]comprising in all not over 105,500 souls,⁠[98] or, according to their historian and champion, Dosabhoy Framjee, somewhat over 110,000.⁠[99] The last-named writer has a high opinion of the sobriety of his co-religionists, and says that although “wines are then (at supper) consumed in large quantities by those who can afford them, it is a fact creditable to the Parsees generally that they drink no intoxicating liquors during the day.” But Mr. Arnold has told us of the Mohammedans that they, too, drink at night only, and we know a few Englishmen who do the same, and yet cannot be called sober; so that is no sure guide. We are, however, quite prepared to receive the author’s statement in perfect good faith, for it is notorious that they are a community standing in very high moral repute, in which they resemble the modern Jews, Quakers, and Unitarians. This is attributable to their small numbers, comparative isolation, and to the almost entire absence of pauperism in their body. Mr. Framjee, however, gives us some statistics of which he does not appear to have noticed the significance. He took the trouble to analyse the census of Bombay shortly before 1858, and he gives us an account of the various occupations followed by his co-religionists. Amongst them he names the following, it being understood that the numbers include the wives and families of the workers:—

The small number of vagrants shows, as already stated, that there is comparatively little poverty in the community; but what of the 417 bakers as against 6053 purveyors of drink? “Oh monstrous! but one halfpenny worth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!”

If we are to judge from these statistics, the Parsees would appear to be amongst the wealthiest, the most enlightened, and religious members of Indian society, and if they would only be as considerate towards their neighbours in other religious communities in the matter of drink as they are cautious in their own, they might be reckoned the salt of the earth. No doubt we shall be reminded by some intelligent Parsee that there is no need for us to go abroad in search of illustrations for such a doctrine, and that even the titles of honour which have been conferred upon members of his community in India for services rendered to the cause of morality, are also lavished upon “liquor sellers” and “tavern-keepers” at home. That is unfortunately so; but it is still worthy of consideration with the descendants of an ancient race, themselves highly esteemed and honoured for their intelligence and for their many virtues, whether they could not do something towards removing this great blot from their escutcheon.

It is unnecessary that we should enter into particulars concerning the history of the Semitic race as narrated in the Bible, and we shall endeavour to avoid anything like the discussion of Jewish or Christian theological doctrines. There is, however, a controversy concerning the authority of Scripture upon the question of temperance, or rather total abstinence from intoxicating drink, which it is impossible to ignore. Concisely stated, it is this: There are (amongst others) two words used in Scripture to denote the juice of the grape, namely, Tirosh, which is generally supposed to mean “must,” or the unfermented juice; and Yayin, or wine. There is also a third word, Schechar or Schecar, which means all strong drink excepting wine.⁠[100] Writers on total abstinence maintain that both the Old and New Testament clearly discountenance the use of intoxicating drink, and that when wine is spoken of as being permitted, Tirosh or “must” is meant, whilst there are numerous denunciations of wine proper (Yayin), and of strong [60]drink.⁠[101] One of our most learned biblical commentators has said: “We question whether the critics who have adopted these views have not driven their arguments beyond their fair conclusions;”⁠[102] and we are bound to say that, after carefully considering the matter, we entirely agree with him. The account which we shall give of the drinking habits of the ancient Hebrews will refute these doctrines, but it will serve to clear the way if we devote a page or two to the preliminary consideration of the subject from the temperance point of view.

One of the writers named refers to a passage in Micah vi. 15, which says, “Thou shalt tread the grape-fruit, but shalt not drink wine;”⁠[103] and this he construes to mean that the grape-fruit is a “permitted enjoyment,” but that wine is not to be drunk. The reader may judge for himself whether that is the correct interpretation. Micah vi. 13, says to the children of Israel, “Therefore also will I make thee sick in smiting thee, in making thee desolate because of thy sins.” Ver. 14 says, “Thou shalt eat, but not be satisfied,” &c. &c. Ver. 15 (the one under consideration) says, “Thou shalt sow, but thou shalt not reap; thou shalt tread the olives, but thou shalt not anoint thee with oil; and sweet wine,” (translated grape-fruit by the temperance writer), “but shalt not drink wine.”

If the construction put upon the words “but shalt not drink wine” were the proper one, it would be just as correct to say that the Bible forbids anointing with [61]oil. The fact is, a curse is put upon Israel, and the blessings referred to are to be withheld. The same expressions occur elsewhere, and are similarly misconstrued; as, for example, the writer just referred to quotes Isaiah xxiv. 9, “They shall not drink wine with a song,”⁠[104] which he calls a “warning example.” And here he has been either very careless, or something less pardonable, for he quotes half a sentence. We will give the context as completely as possible, for we think it will serve to satisfy the reader’s mind on the whole question. Ver. 3, “The land shall be utterly emptied, and utterly spoiled: for the Lord hath spoken this word.” Ver. 6, “Therefore hath the curse devoured the earth, and they that dwell therein are desolate,” &c. Ver. 8, “The mirth of tabrets ceaseth, the noise of them that rejoice endeth, the joy of the harp ceaseth.” Ver. 9, “They shall not drink wine with a song; strong drink shall be bitter to them that drink it.”

The true interpretation of the text seems to us to be that the enjoyments which the Hebrews believed to be permitted to them, music, wine, and strong drink, were, owing to their disobedience, withheld by Jehovah, or deprived of their enjoyable accompaniments. Beyond these two examples of what appears to us misleading in the arguments of our temperance friends, we cannot further trespass upon our space. Nor is such reasoning at all necessary in their cause, for the Old and New Testaments both contain ample testimony of an incontrovertible character in favour of temperance, nay, even in encouragement of total abstinence.

The reader who is completely unprejudiced will find, [62]on investigating the ancient writings, that very similar views were entertained by the Hebrews in regard to wine and other intoxicating drinks as were held by other Oriental races. Just as did the Brahmans and Vedic people, so the Jews burned wine upon the altar, believing it to be gratifying to Jehovah; and we find in the Old Testament examples of anthropomorphism almost as gross as that in the Vedas.⁠[105] The drinking of wine, too, was one of the most important features in their celebration of their festivals,⁠[106] and the esteem in which it was held by the Rabbins is proved by the fact that they instituted a special form of grace to be recited before drinking it, whereas a general formula is presented for use before partaking of any other liquor;⁠[107] and the songs in the Temple were, according to the Talmud, sung only over wine.⁠[108] That the wine employed was strong there can be little doubt, for it was found necessary to mix it with water for ceremonial purposes, the proportions used being three of water to one of wine.⁠[109] As in the days of the reformed Brahmans, and always with the followers of Zoroaster, the priests were forbidden to take wine or strong drink before performing their duties in the Tabernacle,⁠[110] and the Nazarite was to abstain entirely during his probation. “He shall separate himself from wine and strong drink, and shall drink no vinegar of wine, or vinegar of strong [63]drink; neither shall he drink any liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes or dried.” But when his probation was finished, “after that the Nazarite may drink wine.”⁠[111] The Rechabites were total abstainers. They had neither vineyards nor fields, but dwelt in tents;⁠[112] in fact, they led a nomad life, and some biblical critics consider that alone to have been the cause of their abstinence—an opinion which quite agrees with that of Mr. Crawfurd concerning wandering savages, referred to at the conclusion of our first chapter.⁠[113] Under certain circumstances all Hebrews were admonished not to take intoxicating drink; as, for example, “When trouble comes to a congregation,” then “eating of flesh and drinking of wine” were forbidden; and if they disobeyed this injunction, “such iniquity shall not be purged from you until ye die, saith the Lord God of hosts.”⁠[114]

As we have already shown, however, wine not only entered into all religious ceremonies (indeed it formed part of the tithes of the priests), but, taken in moderation, it was regarded as one of the chief blessings which Jehovah had conferred upon the Israelites, and in that sense it is continually found coupled with corn, oil, or milk.⁠[115] Sometimes it is even compared with the Word of God itself. “Ho, every one of ye that thirsteth, come ye to the water; and he, too, that hath no money: come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy without money [64]and without price, wine and milk.”⁠[116] “Wherefore has the Word of God been likened to wine and milk?” asked the old Rabbins, and the answer was, “As these fluids cannot be preserved in golden vessels but only in earthenware, so those minds will be the best receptacles of learning which are found in homely bodies.”⁠[117]

Intoxicating drinks were prepared in Judea from various natural products; from grapes, pomegranates, the palm tree, apples, dates, and other fruits. Before pressing the grape, a quantity of the “must” or sweet juice was allowed to flow spontaneously, as we shall find to have been the practice also in ancient Rome, and that was either drunk in its fresh condition, or was preserved for the finer kinds of wine. The juice was allowed to ferment in bottles, and either the wine so produced, or some other intoxicating beverage, was largely used by the Hebrews. It was brought out on occasions of hospitality,⁠[118] at festivals, and was given to criminals before they were led to execution, for “wine banishes fear,” said the Rabbins.⁠[119]

As we have already stated, it must have been strong, for it was largely diluted with water; and, as might naturally be expected, it was often drunk to excess, even at the earliest period, and by some of the leaders of the people. Noah, who is believed by some commentators to have been the first to plant vines, was found intoxicated in his tent;⁠[120] and Lot’s daughters made their father drunk, and caused him to commit an unnatural crime.⁠[121]

It would tire the reader’s patience to extract from the [65]Old Testament many proofs of the existence of drunkenness and its evil effects upon the ancient Hebrews; and although it is but due to them to say that their purer faith was accompanied by greater morality than we find in some other ancient races, still drunkenness, with all its attendant vices and crimes, must have prevailed to a great extent then, as it does in modern society, and it was denounced with equal vehemence. The same results accompanied or followed a drinking bout in the days of Solomon as in every other age. “Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contentions? Who hath babblings? Who hath wounds without cause? Who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine. They that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon wine when it is red, when it giveth colour to the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At last, it biteth like a serpent; it stingeth like an adder.”⁠[122] “Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning that they may follow strong drink, that continue until night, until wine inflame them.”⁠[123] The same heart-burnings existed, and the same grief to parents when their sons went to the bad, in those days as now. The same leniency, too, was manifested towards them, and similar means were used to wean them from their evil courses. “A king had a son whom he daily discovered carousing with dissolute companions, eating and drinking. ‘Eat at my table,’ said the king; ‘eat and drink, my son, even as pleaseth thee, but let it be at my table, and not with dissolute companions.’”⁠[124] What a text is the following for a temperance discourse:—“And they have [66]cast lots for my people, and have given a boy for an harlot, and sold a girl for wine, that they might drink.”⁠[125] In this short verse, the foulest depravities of ancient and modern days have been concentrated. The practice of nameless vices, the tears and wailing of the child torn away from its parent, reminding one of the wretch who, in our days, will barter his wife for a pot of beer; the deserted home, the last shred gone to pawn, and all “that they might drink.” Surely no straining of texts, no misconstruction of words, is needed by the temperance advocate whilst such lessons as this may be read from the Sacred Book.

And now let us turn to the New Testament. There, too, we find wine spoken of without disfavour if not taken in excess, drunkenness denounced, and in one or two cases total abstinence commended. John the Baptist was an ascetic and a total abstainer from all the luxuries of life. Jesus Christ was neither one nor the other of these; He lived and moved freely in society, participated in its enjoyments, and encouraged that which He regarded as innocent in its customs. He drank wine Himself and gave it to others. Of John it was predicted before his birth, “He shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine nor strong drink;” and he lived upon locusts and honey.⁠[126] On the other hand, comparing himself with John, Jesus said, “For John the Baptist came neither eating nor drinking wine, and ye say he hath a devil. The Son of man is come eating and drinking, and ye say, Behold, a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.”⁠[127] The evidence that Christ favoured [67]the use of wine is found in the first and the last public acts of His life as narrated in Scripture. According to one of His historians, His first miracle was the conversion, at a wedding feast, of six large pots of water into wine.⁠[128] The account of this miracle has been criticised by temperance advocates with a view to show that the wine was not intoxicating, but we confess that we are unconvinced by their reasoning.⁠[129] The governor of the feast said to the bridegroom, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.” From this it is clear that one of the customs of Rome (as we shall find when we come to consider the scarcity of wine in the earlier days of that empire) was also followed in Judea, and that as men became less able to distinguish between good and bad wine, the latter was introduced. As we have heard, by the way, this is still done by dishonest landlords even in our day. To reconcile this act of Christ with the views of temperance advocates is not our duty. We have only to state the fact, and to explain, so far as we are able, its plain meaning. Almost the last recorded injunction of Jesus to His disciples was to drink wine in remembrance of Him—an act which has grown into a religious observance practised by nearly all professing Christians of the present day, whatever may be their theological views concerning His true nature. It is obvious, therefore, that Jesus cannot have had any conscientious scruples about drinking wine Himself, or recommending its use to His companions.

The last Hebrew authority whose teachings concerning drink it will be necessary to consider is St. Paul. Whilst deprecating coercion and tolerating the temperate use of drink, he undoubtedly commended total abstinence as an example to those who were unable to control themselves. To Timothy he said, “Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake and thine often infirmities.”⁠[130] “A bishop,” he remarked, “must be blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behaviour, given to hospitality, apt to teach; not given to wine, not greedy of filthy lucre. Likewise must the deacons be grave, not double-tongued, not given to much wine, not greedy of filthy lucre.”⁠[131]

It is obvious that avarice, gluttony, and drunkenness were then prevalent vices, and, as we shall find when the customs of Rome are under consideration, they had assumed their most glaring and repulsive form in that city. To his co-religionists in Rome, therefore, Paul addressed the most earnest exhortations, enjoining total abstinence as an example. To them he said distinctly, “It is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.”⁠[132] At the same time, as we have said, he deprecated the wholesale condemnation of persons who thought fit to enjoy these luxuries in moderation. “For one,” he said, “believeth that he may eat all things; another, who is weak, eateth herbs. Let not him who eateth despise him that eateth not, and let not him which eateth not judge him that eateth; for God hath received him. Who art thou that judgest another [69]man’s servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth.”⁠[133] But of drunkenness he spoke in very different terms. “Let us walk honestly,” he said to the Roman Christians, “not in rioting and drunkenness;”⁠[134] and elsewhere he ranks drunkards with thieves and extortioners, and even goes so far as to deny them salvation.⁠[135]

Before concluding this imperfect commentary upon the teachings of the Scriptures concerning drink, as they will naturally possess great interest for English readers, it will be useful to consider briefly their bearing upon the condition of modern society. The expression “gin and gospel” has become a byword in relation to this subject. It originates in the fact that in all ancient faiths the drinking of alcoholic beverages was associated with religious observances and festivals, a custom which is still upheld by a mistaken conservatism. Because the ancient Hebrews, Persians, Brahmans and Chinese believed strong drink to be acceptable offerings to their respective deities, and made such offerings part of their religious ceremonies, it does not follow that in our somewhat more enlightened day the modern Jews, Parsees, and Christians should continue to follow the same practices in a modified form. As a ceremony, the use of drink in connection with religious observances can have but little influence or significance, whilst it is becoming daily more injurious as an example.⁠[136]

As regards the common use in moderation of certain fermented liquors, it is clear that it never has been, and [70]cannot be to-day, placed in the same category with the excessive consumption of any alcoholic beverage, or the free use of such strong drinks as spirituous liquors; and those temperance reformers who class them together defeat their own aims, which are worthy of the highest commendation. For it will be found, on reviewing the whole question carefully, that it is not the liquors which are consumed with solid food that are the operating causes of national or individual drunkenness. The Frenchman does not get drunk on red wine, nor the German on lager-bier. Absinthe and schnapps are the destructive agents there, just as gin, and not Barclay’s stout or Bass’s ale, do the business in England. The matter needs careful consideration, not under the influence of passion or fanaticism (the latter often the result of a reaction from over-indulgence), but after a calm investigation of the predisposing causes of intemperance in every age. It is not, however, intended in these remarks to prejudge the whole debated question of “temperance or total abstinence;” that question will be dealt with in the proper place. All we desire to do here is to show the fallacy of attempting to extinguish intemperance by reducing all men to one level, and seeking authority for such a proceeding in Scripture.

Little need be said of the drinking habits of the modern Jews. They are notoriously a sober race both in England and elsewhere, and their temperance is due mainly to two causes. First, they are a small community, and their partial isolation from the other religious denominations has a tendency to make them careful of their morals. The most important reason, however, is that they do not follow any avocations [71]which necessitate great physical exertions. Thus we seldom find them working as artisans or day-labourers; so that there is no great bodily waste to be repaired; and they are, moreover, removed from the temptations to excessive drinking to which the great mass of our working population is exposed. Amongst Jews of the middle classes there is more intemperance. They mix more freely with Christians, and their long fasts are not unfrequently followed by a degree of self-indulgence which, many will think, deprives some of their old religious observances of any merit that they may possess. As already remarked, however, as a whole the Jews are a sober and exemplary race, whose habits in that respect are well worthy of universal imitation.

The last branch of the human family, whose history reaches back to the earliest historic period, which will occupy our attention, though it be only for a brief space, is that which inhabited Egypt. Our information concerning the drinking habits of the ancient Egyptians is derived not only from sacred writings, but also from those of the Greek and Roman historians, and it is, moreover, confirmed from an entirely independent source, namely, from the hieroglyphic inscriptions of the ancient monuments of the country which have been preserved to our time.

There was a tradition, which we shall pass over without comment, that Isis or Osiris was the inventor of intoxicating drink; but we have very good ground for believing that at the time of the deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt wine was already in common use there. That it was drunk at court may be gathered from the dream of Pharaoh’s butler,⁠[137] and the hieroglyphics and pictures found on the ancient monuments which were coeval with or antecedent to that period,⁠[138] [73]demonstrate further that it was consumed by other classes of society, and that they must have been much addicted to drunkenness. At Beni-Hassan and Thebes, representations of wine-presses have been found, of which there appear to have been two kinds. One consisted of a long bag supported horizontally in an upright frame, and capable of being twisted so that the grapes which it contained were forced to yield their juices. In the engraving two men are depicted in the operation of squeezing the bag. The other is a foot-press, upon which several men are seen stamping upon the grapes with their feet. Other representations exhibit men engaged in the vineyards, or drawing wine from the vats into jars, servants handing cups to guests, and others carrying their masters home drunk from a party. In one case, the truth compels us to add, that a maid is seen approaching her mistress with a basin, into which the drink she has taken is being regurgitated after a fashion that gallantry forbids us further to describe.⁠[139] Although we have such trustworthy evidence that wine was consumed in Egypt in the time of Pharaoh (for some of the monuments are probably of a much older date), and that drunkenness was not an uncommon vice, yet for accuracy’s sake we must mention that Herodotus, who lived B.C. 484, distinctly states that grapes were not grown in Egypt. He says,⁠[140] “With respect to the Egyptians themselves, ... their drink is a wine which they obtain from barley, as they have no vines in their country.” Pliny, who lived much later (A.D. 23), but whose writings refer to a period [74]many centuries antecedent, says nothing about the absence of vines in Egypt, but he also speaks of the beer made by them from “corn steeped in water;” and he adds the quaint remark, “Alas! what wondrous skill, and yet how misplaced. Means have absolutely been discovered for getting drunk even upon water.”⁠[141]

As in the religious ceremonies of almost all, if not all ancient peoples, so in Egypt, too, wine was offered to the gods. Two kinds of vases were principally employed for that purpose, and one of considerable height was on grand occasions carried before the king in processions. Coming down to a later period in Egyptian history, that is to say, about the commencement of the Christian era, we find that wine was not only consumed in that country, but it was even exported to Europe. Athenæus, a comedy writer who lived in Egypt, and subsequently in Rome, about A.D. 230, mentions several kinds of Egyptian wine which were highly prized in Greece and Italy. One was called the mareotic wine, which took its name from a fountain called Marea, in the district of Alexandria, and from a town of the same name.⁠[142] This wine is described as white, sweet, good for the breath, and digestible, and a special recommendation is that “it never produces any ill effect on the head.” The reader must not, however, infer from this that sobriety was the order of the day in the time of Athenæus, for he will soon be undeceived on that score. Other descriptions of Egyptian wine are mentioned [75]by the same author, and the best of all appears to have been the wine of Antylla, a city near Alexandria, the revenues from the sale of which, he says, “the kings of those ages—both the Egyptian and Persian kings—used to give to their wives as pin-money.” Here, again, we have independent evidence of the antiquity of wine in Egypt; for the period referred to by Athenæus must have been long prior to his day. His writings, to which we shall have occasion to refer in a succeeding chapter, give anything but a flattering account of the ancient Egyptians, and according to him they must have been great topers. “Now, that the Egyptians really are fond of wine,” he says, “this is a proof that they are the only people amongst whom it is a custom at their feasts to eat boiled cabbages before all the rest of their food, and even to this very time they do so. And many people add cabbage seed to potions which they prepare as preventives against drunkenness. And wherever a vineyard has cabbages growing in it, there the wine is weaker.”⁠[143] And then the author, as is his custom, clenches his assertion with corroborative testimony, chiefly in the form of extracts from the writings of older authors. Two of these, which are in verse, we will transcribe just as he gives them, for the amusement of our readers:—

Although much might be added to this brief reference to the drink and drinking habits of the ancient Egyptians, that is rendered needless by the fact that similar customs prevailed in Rome, and those will be treated at greater length hereafter. We will therefore simply add, in conclusion, that however excellent a means boiled cabbage may have been for alleviating drunken headaches, the sword of Islam proved a far more efficacious and permanent cure, for, as already stated elsewhere, abstinence, if not universal, is at least the rule of that faith in modern Egypt and Arabia.

Thus far we have considered, although superficially, the habits of those primitive races whose origin is lost in the obscurity of myths and legends; but we have been able to gather, even from the imperfect records that have been handed down to us, certain trustworthy information relating to the subject.

We have ascertained that it is impossible to retrace the history of any of the nations of antiquity to a period when strong drink was unknown and intoxication was not practised. We know beyond a doubt that various productions of the soil, the palm tree, the hemp plant, several shrubs, herbs, and fruits, especially the grape, and also certain cereals, were employed from the earliest times in the preparation of intoxicating beverages. We know, too, that it was considered quite legitimate for all classes, with very few exceptions, to drink these beverages in moderation, and that amongst the early races of mankind some of them were deemed worthy of being offered to their gods, and were supposed to be acceptable to them. Neither can it be doubted that from the beginning of the world, so far at least as our records of its history extend, intemperance existed, and [78]that it was a concomitant of most of the vices and crimes which it impels men to commit even in our day.

But the imperfection of those records which we have consulted has prevented us from travelling over the whole life-history of a nation as we shall be able to do hereafter, for as we follow the migrations of the great Aryan family from East to West, from Asia into Europe, travelling downwards on the stream of history, we shall obtain a clearer insight into the social customs of the time, and be better able to judge of their relations with its political history. The great empires of Greece and Rome constitute a connecting link between the ancient and modern world, and we shall find it profitable to study the history of drink in those countries, not only on account of its intrinsic interest, but because of the lessons which it conveys in regard to the present and probable future of our race.

In Greece the origin of wine and wine-bibbing belongs to the mythical age. The discovery of wine was attributed to Dionysus, better known to modern readers as Bacchus, the son of Jupiter and Semele, the daughter of Cadmus of Thebes.⁠[144] He is said to have travelled in Egypt, Syria, and parts of Asia, and there to have introduced the manufacture of wine along with the other arts of civilisation, and on his return to Greece he was at length acknowledged as a deity through the miracles which he is said to have performed. After his death he was worshipped as the god of wine, and the festivals in his honour became more and more riotous and dissolute, both in Greece and Rome, until they degenerated into [79]saturnalia of the most disgraceful character. In the latter city they were entirely suppressed by a consular edict B.C. 186 and a more innocent festival was substituted. This celebration known as the Liberalia was held annually on the 16th March, and was made the occasion of investing all the Roman youths who had attained their sixteenth year with the toga virilis or vestment of manhood.⁠[145]

We shall have occasion hereafter to refer to the ancient god of wine, but for the present we must leave him for the purpose of considering another narrative of the heroic age. Homer, who is variously placed in the world’s history between 1184 and 684 B.C., also carries us back into the realm of fiction, and in his pages we find mention made on more than one occasion of wine and its injurious effects upon those who partook of it to excess. He tells us, for example, that when Ulysses and his companions came to the land of the fabled Cyclops, they found it rich in natural productions which required no human aid to cultivate them. “Trusting to the gods,” the natives neither plant a plant with their hands nor plough, but all things unsown, untilled, spring up, wheat, and barley, and vines, which bear wine from large clusters, and the shower from Jove nourishes them.⁠[146] In this paradise Ulysses and his companions disembarked, and finding goats, they killed them and prepared a banquet. They are then described as feasting on flesh and sweet wine during the whole day until the setting sun, “for the ruby wine was not yet expended from the ships, but [80]was in them,” says the chronicler, “for each of us had drawn much wine in kegs when we captured the sacred citadel of the Ciconians.” After thus indulging, Ulysses and his companions had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Cyclops Polyphemus, who confined them in a cave and devoured six of them. The monster was, however, unacquainted with the intoxicating effects of the juice of the grape, and Ulysses succeeded in making him drunk “with an ivy-wreathed cup of black wine,” and by that means he effected his escape with his remaining companions.

Thus it would appear that the manufacture of wine from the grape and its transport from place to place in barrels must have been common in the days of Homer; and that its intoxicating effects were well known is obvious, not only from the foregoing extracts, but from various other portions of the “Odyssey.” Thus, Antinous says to Ulysses, “Sweet wine hurts thee, which harms others also, whoever takes it too abundantly nor drinks properly. Wine also inspired the illustrious Centaur Eurytion in the palace of the magnanimous Pirithous when he came to the Lapithæ, but he, when he had injured his mind with wine, in madness did wicked deeds in the house of Pirithous.”⁠[147]

The information which we have thus derived from the ancient poets is confirmed by the results of modern archæologists. Many of our readers have no doubt inspected the interesting relics of ancient Troy which have been brought home by Dr. Schliemann, and are now deposited in South Kensington Museum. They [81]consist, amongst other articles, of drinking vessels of various shapes and materials, cast and wrought gold, silver and earthenware, and of every size, form, and colour. Their precise age has been disputed, but it is quite unnecessary for our purpose to enter minutely into this question. The race which used them were evidently highly convivial in their habits; and in the matter of drinking, at least, they would seem to have been the originators of many of the customs of civilised society.

Crossing over once more from Troy into Greece, we find that, at a later period of its history, the dangers which threatened the nation from drunkenness became so apparent that in some of the states stringent measures were taken to enforce abstinence.

The Lacedæmonians were at one time total abstainers,⁠[148] and some writers go so far as to say that they compelled their helots or slaves to intoxicate themselves, and to dance indecent dances, and that whilst they were in that condition they brought their youth to look at them, so that they might be repelled by the sight, and eschew similar practices.⁠[149] Be that as it may, temperance and simplicity of life did not long hold sway in Greece, and all its states, including Sparta, succumbed to habits of luxury.⁠[150] Of this we have ample proof in the works of the Greek comedy writers. One of them, Panyasis, a relation of Herodotus, who lived about 480 B.C., sings in praise of wine as follows:—

Of immoderate drinking the same writer says, “For insolence and ruin follow it;” and in that view he was supported by many other writers of his day. Eubulus, for example, who flourished about a century later, has left some verses which are applicable to other nations and to times different from that in which he lived and sang. He puts the following verses upon the lips of Bacchus:—

Another quotation illustrative of the habits of the times must suffice. Epicharmus, a Greek by birth, who lived in Sicily even at an earlier period than either of the preceding, and of whose writings we have many [83]remains, has left a few lines on the subject of drunkenness which supplement the above account of its ill effects, and which, alas! apply to the nineteenth century of our Christian era equally with the period at which Epicharmus flourished, namely, about 540 B.C.:—

But it is unnecessary that we should follow the history of the drinking habits of Greece any further, for we find the same excesses to have prevailed there as we meet with in the relations on the same subject in Rome, and to that empire, therefore, we must now direct our attention.

The earliest mention made anywhere of wine in Italy is probably that found in the writings of Varro, the historian, who says that Mezentius, king of Etruria (contemporary with Æneas of Troy), succoured the Rutuli against the Latini on condition that he should receive as compensation all the wine that was in Latium. But although many other writers have left us information on the subject, it is to Pliny the Elder that we owe most of the interesting particulars concerning drink and drinking customs in Rome.⁠[153] From [84]his pages we learn that wine was well known to the people of that city from its very foundation⁠[154] (about 650 B.C.); for an anecdote is related that the wife of Egnatius Mecenius was slain by her husband with a stick because she had drunk wine from a vat (women being at that time forbidden to drink wine in Rome), and that he was absolved from the murder by Romulus. The interdiction of wine to women was in force at a much later period; for Fabius Pictor,⁠[155] in his book of “Annals,” states that a certain lady, for having opened a purse in which the keys of the wine-cellar were kept, was starved to death by her family; and Cato tells us that it was the usage of the men to give their female relatives a kiss in order to ascertain whether they smelt of temetum, for it was by that name that wine was known; “whence,” says Pliny, “our word temulentia, signifying drunkenness.” Another case is quoted, which shows that wine was subsequently allowed to women as a medicine or a tonic. Cn. Domitius, a judge, gave it as his opinion that a certain woman appeared to him to have drunk more wine than was requisite for her health, and without her husband’s knowledge, for which reason he condemned her to lose her dowry. Later on, however, men and women caroused together freely.

But we must return to the earliest period of Roman history. Wine appears then to have been very scarce, for King Numa promulgated a decree known as the Posthumian law, which contained the injunction, “Sprinkle not the funeral pyre with wine;” and the same edict forbade the employment of wine as a libation to the gods which [85]was the product of an unpruned vine. For it appears that the vines were attached to high trees, which the husbandman was obliged to climb in order to prune them, and as many accidents, sometimes fatal ones, resulted from this custom, vines were neglected, and their produce diminished in consequence. But there are many other proofs of the scarcity of wine in the earlier days of Rome. Thus L. Papirius, a general, who on one occasion commanded against the Samnites, when about to engage, vowed an offering to Jupiter of a small cup of wine if he should gain the victory; and for a considerable time milk is often mentioned amongst offerings to the gods, but never wine.

Even at that early period, therefore, we know that, however scarce intoxicating liquor may have been, it was already employed in a variety of ways. That it was used in religious ceremonies; as a medicine; as an article of diet, openly by men and secretly by women; and, if we were to follow closely the course of Roman history, we should find that for those purposes, and as a luxury, its consumption must have been always on the increase. Our space will not, however, allow us to do more than refer to a few illustrative cases, extracted from the pages of Pliny and other Roman writers, in order to show how drinking increased, and the extent to which it prevailed at a later period. We have seen that on one occasion a Roman general offered as a rare gift to the gods a small cup of wine. That was about the beginning of the fourth century B.C. (333-272). About a hundred years later, Cato, another Roman general, who did his utmost to discountenance the growing luxury of his time, whilst on an expedition to Spain from which he afterwards returned in triumph, would drink no other [86]wine than such as was served out to his rowers, “very different indeed,” says the historian, “to the conduct of those who are in the habit of giving to their guests even inferior wine to that which they drink themselves, or else contrive to substitute inferior in the course of their repast.”⁠[156] Still another century later, M. Varro, the historian (born 116 B.C.), makes the following statement concerning the wines which were held in high esteem in his day:—“L. Lucullus, when a boy, never saw an entertainment at his father’s house, however sumptuous it might be, at which Greek wine was handed round more than once during the repast, whereas he himself, when he returned from Asia, distributed as a largess among the people more than a hundred thousand congiaria⁠[157] of the same wine. C. Sentius, the prætor, used to say that Chian wine never entered his house unless his physician prescribed it to him for the cardiac disease; but, on the other hand, Hortensius (50 B.C.) left 10,000 casks of it to his heir.” About the same period, Pliny tells us⁠[158] that Cæsar at a banquet given during his third consulship (B.C. 46), gave Falernian, Chian, Lesbian, and Mamertine wines; “indeed, it is generally agreed that this was the first occasion on which four different kinds of wine were served at table. It was after this that all the other sorts came into such very high repute, somewhere about the year of the city 700.” And speaking of his own time (A.D. 23-79), he tells us that the luxurious ways of his countrymen were fully matured. “Wealth, and not merit, had become the passport to the highest offices, the motives and hopes of all, therefore, [87]tending to the one great object, the acquisition of wealth.... We may therefore conclude, by Hercules, that pleasure has now begun to live, and that life, so called, has ceased to be.”⁠[159] What would Pliny have said, had he lived in our time?

To the state of Roman society in Pliny’s day we shall return presently, but although this is not a technical treatise on intoxicating liquors, it is probable that some of our readers might desire to know something of the character of the wines to which reference has been made in the preceding observations, and we will therefore describe as concisely as circumstances admit the method of their manufacture, and will add one or two matters of interest bearing upon their use.

The manufacture of wine in Italy and Greece had been brought to great perfection about the commencement of the Christian era, and from that time to the fall of the Roman Empire its quality and varieties occupied the attention of some of the most learned critics and historians. Three distinct descriptions or qualities of wine were usually pressed from the same grapes. The first may be compared to “virgin honey,” for it was merely the juice or “must” which flowed from the fruit through the simple pressure of the mass of grapes when they were put into the wine-press. It was called protrupum, and was reserved for the manufacture of a peculiarly fine description of wine. The second quality, mustum lixivium, was the product of the first pressure; and after the grapes had been completely pressed, the solid mass was taken out and once more submitted to [88]the same operation. The liquor from the second pressing was known as mustum tortivum, and was used for the manufacture of inferior wines, or for mixing with the better qualities. The “must” or sweet juice was transferred to “dolia,” long bell-mouthed earthenware vases, partially sunk in the earth, in an apartment on the ground floor called the cella vinaria, and in these vessels the fermentation took place, usually lasting nine days. After this, the upper part of the inside of the dolia having been previously smeared with a composition of saffron, pitch, mastic, and fir cones, those vessels were closed with lids, which were taken off from time to time to give air to the contents, to remove impurities, and to add any substances which were deemed necessary to give soundness to the wine. From the dolia the finer kinds of wine were transferred to other vessels called amphoræ, made of earthenware or glass, and closed with a plug of wood or cork, which was rendered impervious to air by being coated with clay or gypsum. These amphoræ bore the name of the wine they held, just as do our bottles, and they were usually deposited in the upper floor of the house, it being supposed that the smoke or warmth from the floors below, in passing upwards, improved the quality of the wine. This effect was heightened by constructing the bath furnaces below the apartments (apothecæ) in which the wine was stored.⁠[160] The commoner kinds were drawn direct from the dolia, the original vessels in which [89]fermentation had taken place; and for the sale of wine in the streets and markets, or for its transport, the wine-holders were usually made of the skins of animals.

The culture of the vine was a most important industry in Greece and Italy, and the plant itself is said to have attained proportions which are rarely if at all equalled in our day. We are told, for example, that in the city of Populonium there was a statue formed of the trunk of a single vine, which for ages remained proof against all decay;⁠[161] and again that at Metapontum the temple of Juno stood supported by pillars formed of the same material. Pliny says that there were in his day ninety-one varieties of vine, of which he describes several, giving many details concerning their cultivation.⁠[162] He mentions one hundred and sixteen different sorts of wine, whereof fifty are called “generous;” and he (as well as other writers of his day) speaks of the wines of Latium in Italy, chiefly those growing near the sea, and of certain islands in the Grecian Archipelago (Chios, Lesbos, &c.), as the most highly prized and commended. Various substances were used to improve and give flavour to the wines of those days, and amongst them we find named sea-water, turpentine, resin, gypsum, almonds, parched salt, goats’ milk, cedar cones, salts of lead, and a variety of others which would seem hardly suited to the purpose. Many were adulterants used for doctoring inferior wines, and severe enactments were passed to prevent such practices. We are not, however, led to believe that artificial wines were manufactured and adulteration practised to the same extent as [90]in our day. A German newspaper⁠[163] recently gave an account of a prosecution in Berlin, in which it was stated that one large store which had been inspected contained only artificial wines, into the manufacture of which the juice of the grape never entered, although the names borne by the labels of the bottles were those of well-known wines.

But to return to Rome. Drinks more or less intoxicating were made from honey (hydromeli), and from a great variety of fruits, shrubs, and herbs; but our space will not allow us even to enumerate them. The views which were entertained at that time concerning the use and abuse of wine seem to be somewhat similar to those which are held in the present day. Pliny, for example, describes its effects as follows:—“It causes a feeling of warmth in the interior of the viscera, and when poured upon the body is cool and refreshing;” and he adds, that there is nothing more useful than wine for strengthening the body, while at the same time there is nothing more pernicious as a luxury if we are not on our guard against excess.⁠[164] Some wines, we are told, had the virtue of prolonging life; thus Livia Augusta, who lived to her eighty-second year, attributed her longevity to the wine of Pucinum, as she never drank any other. The fact is hardly conclusive, for we do not know how long she would have lived if she had drunk no wine at all. The author knows an old gentleman who has attained nearly the same age, and he never drinks anything but brown brandy, yet he has never heard him attribute his longevity to that cause.

Wine was believed to possess distinctly medicinal properties. Pliny says, “It acts as an antidote to cantharides and stings inflicted by serpents,” and that “it is good for the kidneys, liver, and inner coat of the bladder, and is an antidote for various poisons, especially hemlock;”⁠[165] whilst Mnesitheus, an Athenian physician, although he admitted that people who drink a great quantity of unmixed wine at banquets often receive great injury from so doing, recommended “occasional hard drinking,” which appeared to him to produce “a certain purging of the body and a certain relaxation of the mind.”⁠[166] We have heard opinions expressed almost as irrational as the last named, even in our time.

The price of wine appears to have been marvellously low. It is said to have varied from sixpence per gallon down to threepence for ten gallons;⁠[167] but, of course, it is difficult to form a correct estimate in this respect without comparing its price with that of bread or some other article of regular consumption, and ascertaining what were the rates of remuneration in trades and handicrafts. The strongest proof of the large consumption of wine is, however, to be found in the number and variety of the drinking vessels which were employed in Greece and Rome. The most common were the calix, a flat vase-shaped cup with one handle, and the rhyton, a horn-shaped vessel. Originally the latter was the horn of an animal, which appears to have been the first drinking vessel of most nations, but gradually the rhyton assumed various [92]ornamental shapes, such as the head of a bull or greyhound, either made altogether of earthenware, or surmounted with an open receptacle of chased gold or silver, and provided with a handle. But besides these, the names of the drinking vessels were legion. Athenæus describes a vast number with great minuteness.⁠[168] Some were of precious metal, others of crystal, wood, horn, or earthenware; some of ordinary dimensions, and others again were enormous as, for example, the elephant:—

Dionysius of Sinope, we are told, published a catalogue of cups, which, if we may judge from the space occupied by little more than the bare mention of some of them in Athenæus, must have been pretty compendious. But these drinking vessels had a significance beyond that which attached either to their size, material, or variety. Whilst some were works of art, testifying only the skill, the love of the beautiful, and the cultivated taste of their makers and owners, many, through the indecent scenes which were portrayed upon them, revealed an age of dissoluteness which had probably never been surpassed nor even equalled. To descend to an account of the debauchery practised in the ancient empires of Greece and Rome would be impossible in this or any other work of a popular character, but our duty would remain unfulfilled did [93]we not attempt to convey some idea of the state of society in that day. There were then, as now, banquets, dinner-parties, and wine-parties (symposia), some of which were conducted with moderation, and were accompanied by rational entertainments, such as conversation amongst the guests, musical and dramatic performances, but at others drunkenness and every species of debauchery were openly practised, and those often terminated in confusion, riot, and bloodshed. It would be the easiest task possible to degrade two of the greatest nations that have ruled the earth in the reader’s eyes by laying bare the private character and doings of some of those whom we have been in the habit of regarding as the heroes of a bygone age, but that would be less fair, as it certainly would be less satisfactory, than to take even the most grossly exaggerated descriptions of society itself as they have been handed down to us by the satirists of the day. Many of our readers have doubtless laughed or sighed over the pages of Aristophanes, Petronius, and Athenæus, and to them the account of an ancient Roman or Greek feast and drinking bout will be no novelty; but there are others whose studies and researches have led them in a different direction, and for these a brief sketch of a Roman entertainment of the grosser, but by no means of the grossest kind, may prove of interest. Let it be added that, remembering the practical aim of this work, we have considerably softened down the farcical or exaggerated tone of the authors whose writings have served as our guide in the description.⁠[170]

The scene opens at the entrance gate of a Roman [94]mansion, on which there are inscribed the following significant words: “Any slave who shall go out of doors without his master’s leave shall receive a hundred lashes.” Here the guests may be seen descending from their chariots in banqueting dress, and within, the ostium or entrance is alive with visitors, playing various games, engaged in conversation, or already receiving draughts of wine from the hands of obedient slaves.

The next scene is the banqueting hall itself, where the guests recline on couches around the tables:—

The host, a rich and vulgar parvenu, is surrounded by sycophants, who are as ready to parade his wealth and his imaginary virtues as he is to listen to and believe their flatteries; and the conversation, carried on in a loud voice during the banquet, mainly runs upon his munificence towards his slaves and freedmen, and his great possessions. After the first course, wine is poured over the hands of the guests, for no one offers them water;⁠[172] and glass jars are carried round bearing labels, “Opimian, Falernian, a hundred years old!” A human skeleton made of silver is then produced, and [95]the host incites his guests to partake of the good things before them by crying out in a loud voice:—

The course which follows deserves special attention. It is placed in a circular tray divided into twelve sections, marked with the signs of the zodiac, and each contains an appropriate dish. Thus in Aries there are rams’-head pies; in Sagittarius, a hare; in Pisces, two mullets; and so on. The entertainment is here diversified by the entrance of an Egyptian slave, who sings a song in praise of some celebrated wine. The host’s lady drinks but little (as yet), but she has an ugly tongue and chatters eternally. The old story; the parvenu husband does sometimes manage to conform himself to his new sphere of life—his wife never! But we must not say too much even for him in this instance. He leads the conversation, and is listened to with rapt attention. After the fashion of a dinner-giver who instructed his servant to let a tongue fall from a dish to enable him to make his pun about a lapsus linguæ, so the Roman host had provided the zodiacal dishes as a theme for wise dissertation. He spoke learnedly of the signs under which men of various trades are born. Under Libra, for example, it appears that all retail dealers, butchers, druggists, &c., are brought into the world! Then he turned the conversation to some contemptible feast that had been given [96]by one of his wealthy rivals. “Call that a feast!” he said. “Why, there was a trumpery show of gladiators; such decrepit wretches, one might have blown them down.” He had seen better men thrown to the beasts by torchlight!

Other courses follow, and betwixt or during each there is some entertainment or some surprise. Now a slave boy is freed, then an orator enters and recounts the munificent deeds of the host. Then again the cook is dragged in and threatened with condign punishment for having forgotten to remove the intestines from a hog. At first he is handed over to the tormentors; but the guests intercede, when the cook is directed to slash open the intestines with a knife, and out falls a mass of sausages. Thereupon follows immense applause; the cook is crowned with honours and dismissed. Poor poets and literary men who are present are vulgarly patronised by the host, and are “drawn out” into conversation, whilst compliment after compliment is showered on the host. Towards the close of the banquet, the ceiling over the heads of the guests cracks and opens, and a great ring descends, hung all round with golden crowns and alabaster pots filled with perfume, as presents to the guests; and this is but one amongst similar surprises.

But how is it about our special department all this time? Are the guests all as sober as when they assembled? Hardly, for each new course has brought with it a fresh supply of wine, which is carried round from right to left as with us; and although at first it is taken mixed with water, it is soon drunk alone, until all the guests have arrived at that third stage which “tranquillity and sleep inspires.” But soon one of [97]them, who never once allowed the wine to pass, and “is not in a fit state for discussion,” naïvely acquaints his host with the interesting fact that he is “completely fuddled;” an announcement which is received with laughter and applause. His example is soon followed by others, until all arrive at the fourth or fifth stages, from which “insolence” and “uproar” proceed. The guests begin to vie with one another in drinking, brag, and bluster. But there is method in this dipsomania; for the slaves, too, are ordered to drink freely, that they may not see their masters at a disadvantage; and when, at one particular phase of the entertainment, the wine is brought round, the host threatens to have it poured over the head of any of his guests who fails to drain his bumper.⁠[174] During the entertainment other friends arrive, and one party comes tipsy from a funeral, until at length host and guests, men and women, are all drunk together. Some of them retire, if reeling out of the hall can be so called, and proceed to take a bath, with a view of returning to the charge and renewing the bout; and finally the spectacle becomes indescribable, and the curtain falls on the last scene of all amidst “riot and confusion.”

This is by no means an exaggerated picture of the drunkenness and debauchery which prevailed in Rome under the Empire. Amusements, if the practice of the lowest vices can be so called, were introduced into the entertainments of the rich which are quite unfit to be mentioned, and a number of unnatural devices were [98]resorted to for the purpose of enabling the guests to protract their debauches. Accounts of these are to be found not only in the pages of the satirists, but in the sober philosophical writings of Pliny and other historians. Pliny says,⁠[175] that on no object was so much ingenuity expended as upon the manufacture of wine, and that so common was its use, it was given even to beasts of burden. He speaks of it as a liquid which deprives man of his reason and “drives him to frenzy and the commission of a thousand crimes.” One of his statements seems almost incredible, but it is made by other writers as well, and that is, that men actually drank hemlock (to which, as already stated, wine was considered an antidote), before commencing a carouse, “that they may have the fear of death before them, to make them take their wine.” “The more prudent,” he says, “have themselves parboiled in hot baths, from whence they are carried away half dead,” and emetics were commonly resorted to after a large quantity of wine had been swallowed, so that the drinking might be renewed. Premiums upon the exercise of the drinking capacity were offered to such as liked to make exhibitions of themselves at banquets, and the result of these and similar practices is said to have been the rupture of all ties of decency and modest bearing on the part of the guests of both sexes.

“Then it is,” says Pliny, “that the secrets of the mind are revealed: one man is heard to disclose the provisions of his will; another lets fall some expression of fatal import, and so fails to keep to himself words which will be sure to come home to him with a cut throat: and how many a man has met his death in this [99]fashion! Indeed, it has become a common proverb that ‘in wine there is truth.’” He goes on to describe the appearance of the drunkard, which agrees with the picture of him that was drawn by the satirists, and which may be viewed at the present day: the blotched and purple skin, the crimson nose, the bleared and watery eyes! Delirium tremens, or, as the historian calls it, “sleep agitated by furies,” was also common, and was accompanied by loss of memory; “and this,” he adds, “this is what they call seizing the moments of life! Whereas, in reality, whilst other men lose the day that has gone before, the drinker has already lost the day that is to come!” He censures the fashionable physicians of his day who prescribed alcoholic drinks to their patients for the purpose of pleasing them, and so securing their custom; and he does not hesitate to expose the habits of those who were great topers as well as eminent citizens. Alcibiades comes in for severe reproof; so, too, an eminent Roman, Novellius Torquatus, of Mediolanum, a man who held all the honours of the state from the prefecture to the proconsulate, of whom he says that he could drink off three congii at a single draught,⁠[176] from which he obtained the name of Tricongius. This he is said to have done before the eyes of Tiberius, and to the extreme surprise of the Emperor, who was himself a renowned toper. Another hero, we are told, kept up a drinking bout at the residence of the same Emperor for two days and two nights; and these little dissipations do not seem to have interfered in the least with the exercise of the civil or military duties of those who indulged in them.

But drunkenness and debauchery were not confined to the higher classes in the days of Roman decadence. In describing the baths of Caracalla, Gibbon says, on good authority, that there issued from those stately palaces crowds of dirty and ragged plebeians, without shoes and without a mantle, who loitered away whole days in the street or Forum to hear news and to hold disputes; who dissipated in extravagant gaming the miserable pittance of their wives and children, and spent the hours of the night in obscene taverns and brothels in the indulgence of gross and vulgar sensuality.⁠[177]

Such, then, was the condition of society in the latter days of Rome, with her proud and debauched patricians and her ragged and dependent plebeians, shortly before the conquering barbarians of the North swept down like an avalanche and completed her overthrow; and thus do we find the curse of drunkenness associated with her downfall. May the story of her vices and the lesson of her fate not have been learned in vain by succeeding nations, and above all by the people of our own land; for they teach us that the upper ranks of society cannot yield themselves to over-indulgence without the commission of a twofold wrong—without injuring themselves by their vicious practices, as well as their poorer fellow-citizens by their evil example. Neither does the inconvenience cease with the discontinuance of the evil habit; the excesses of the poor react upon the rich, and it is as idle to attempt to reform the lower orders by criminal legislation and police restrictions alone, as it is unwise to content ourselves with [101]denouncing their vices, and leaving them to work out their own reformation. In order to secure continued prosperity to a nation, all classes, high and low, rich and poor, must be alike free, contented, and virtuous. We cannot expect to progress satisfactorily as a nation amongst our neighbours whilst we have even a residuum of drunkards in our midst; for as long as there are amongst us such as those who issued from the baths of Caracalla (but who in our day neither enter nor issue from any baths at all), as easy would it be for a rich bon vivant whose head is but little affected by the irregularities of his appetite but whose nether members the gout has made her own, to expect to compete successfully in a race with a band of young, and healthy, and vigorous athletes. This is the first grave lesson to be learned from a consideration of the history of drink.

Long before the northern barbarians had descended into the plains of Italy as conquerors, and whilst they were still the tributaries of Rome, they had earned the reputation of being brave, but indolent and intemperate. Pliny, who has already enlightened us concerning the habits of his own countrymen, tells us that the chief drink of the Germans was beer, or, as he calls it, “corn steeped in water,” which, he says, was capable of being kept until it had attained a great age. They, however, soon learned the superiority of the wines of Italy and Gaul, and those are said to have been not the least of the inducements which tempted them to make incursions into their neighbours’ territories. Tacitus describes the Germans as a primitive, savage, and warlike race, much addicted to intemperance in drink, but chaste and virtuous in their relations with women, whom they treated with great respect.⁠[178] He says that they slept late into the day, and on rising they proceeded to bathe, after which they partook of a meal, each sitting on a distinct seat and at a separate table. They then went armed to business, and not less frequently to convivial parties, in which it was no [103]disgrace to pass whole days and nights without intermission in drinking. The frequent quarrels which arose amongst them when intoxicated seldom terminated in abusive language only, but more frequently in bloodshed. Their drink, he also says, was a liquor prepared from barley or wheat, brought by fermentation to a certain resemblance of wine, but those who bordered on the Rhine also purchased wine. They fed on fresh venison (some writers say they ate it raw), wild fruits, and coagulated milk, and their intemperance in eating and drinking was such as to give great advantage to the Romans in their wars, or, as Tacitus puts it, “intemperance proves as effectual in subduing them as the force of arms.”

A modern German writer, who has devoted considerable attention to the rise, progress, and subsidence of the passion for drink in his native land, attributes the love of drink in his ancestors to the damp climate, and to their being constantly engaged in war or in hunting wild beasts.⁠[179] They appear, however, to have regarded the use of wine at first with some apprehension, as it affected their physical powers more injuriously than beer; and although vineyards were planted at an early period, it is said, by Roman soldiers, the production and use of wine was long of a limited character.⁠[180]

It is to Christianity, or at least to its professors, that the credit belongs of having caused the growth of the grape and the consumption of wine to extend in Germany, and in the neighbouring countries of the [104]West.⁠[181] The holy sacrament necessitated its use, and so we find that the first vineyards of any importance were planted around the great monasteries, such as those in the neighbourhood of Mayence and Würzburg,⁠[182] of which, amongst others, special mention was made about the middle of the ninth century. Beer and mead were, however, the national drinks of the ancient German tribes,⁠[183] and their drinking habits affected their whole character as well as the destinies of their descendants. They held counsel on matters of importance over their potations, and verified the adage which was referred to by Pliny, and has descended to us, that “in wine” (or, with them, in beer) “there is truth.” So there were no diplomats, no Bismarcks nor Gortschakoffs, in that age; the warriors were outspoken and frank in their expressions, hasty and daring in their subsequent undertakings. Drinking to excess soon gained a firm hold upon the whole nation, and took the form of healths and toasts, of drinking for wagers, and pledging strangers and wayfarers. These customs at once stamped the Germans as an hospitable people, and although “guest-friendship,” as it is still called, was a conspicuous characteristic of the Middle Ages all over Europe, it seems to have been pre-eminently the quality of the Germans.

Very early in the history of the nation, it is an admitted fact that all classes and both sexes indulged freely in potations, so much so, that as far back as the middle of the eighth century systematic attempts were made to legislate against drunkenness. Charlemagne, whose character has been variously judged by different historians, and who was undoubtedly a Henry the Eighth in his conjugal relations, in the matter of drink presented an example worthy of imitation. If not a total abstainer, he was at least an extremely temperate drinker, and both in that respect as well as by imperial edicts he endeavoured to reform the drinking habits of his subjects. He forbade suitors or witnesses to appear in court intoxicated, earls to sit in judgment unless perfectly sober, and priests to offer drink to penitents.⁠[184] If any one of his soldiers was found drunk in camp, he was restricted to water as a beverage until he admitted the heinousness of his offence and publicly implored forgiveness.⁠[185] But these edicts were of no avail. They, along with others, which were directed not only against the common people, but also against princes, rulers, and their following, were enacted again and again in later times; as, for example, that of the Emperor Frederick III. at a Reichstag in Worms, 1495, which ordered “all electors, princes, prelates, counts, knights, and gentlemen to discountenance and severely punish drunkenness;” and that of Karl IV., which stated in the preamble that [106]the vice is greatly on the increase, that it leads to blasphemy, murder, and manslaughter, and that such vices and crimes have rendered the Germans, “whose manliness was so famous in olden times, despised and contemned of all foreign nations.”

Neither were the orders of temperance which were established in the Middle Ages much more successful. Those were not mere associations of the “moral suasion” class. Some of them were founded and governed by emperors, princes, and counts, others by ecclesiastics or burghers. They were levelled not only at drinking, but at its companion sins, cursing and swearing; and the records of some of them would delight the heart of a modern suppressor of the liquor traffic, from the severity with which they show the rules to have been enforced. In some, the fines which were inflicted upon the members for breaches of discipline were moderate, the transgressor having to pay, “through the will of God, three kreuzers to the poor.” In other cases a Rhenish florin was the forfeit. Those seem to have been high-class societies. Occasionally, however, we meet with such punishments as “three days and three nights in gaol,” but that was for a miserable “knecht” (a serf); gentlemen were not so rudely handled. In their case it was “five shillings and costs,” not “fourteen days’ imprisonment.” But if these enactments and associations for the suppression of drunkenness testified to its widespread prevalence, how much more significant is the undoubted fact that there were orders of intemperance, with formal codes of rules. The drinking-songs of the students, and the drinking-code (Jus potandi), which is believed by some writers to have been a genuine collection of rules for the regulation [107]of drinking, and by others to be merely a satire levelled against drunkenness, reveal the situation to all who care to peruse them.⁠[186] Here is a description of the habits of the time as given by the students:⁠[187]—

In short, everybody, man, woman, and child, drank to their heart’s content. Drinking formed part of the education of youth. “Now, let us see,” said the fond parent to his little son, “let us see what you can do. Bring him a half-measure;” and later on, “Bring him a measure.”⁠[188] And men told one another in high glee how they had succeeded in making all their guests drunk the evening before, and how long each had [108]managed to hold out before he succumbed. Drunken tournaments were held, and Hans Sachs, the national poet, gives an account of one of them which he had witnessed, where twelve “beer heroes” succeeded in drinking from “pots and cans” a tun of beer in six hours! Of course, it was necessary to introduce something like order into this drinking world; and just as we have found religious beliefs, and laws, and ceremonies accumulate through ages, and handed down by tradition until the master-mind appeared to codify the whole and reduce it to writing, so “Jus Potandi” was the grand outcome of the wise drinking legislation of generations of topers. As already remarked, whether it be a serious production or merely a satire, its significance remains the same. It described the liquors of the age, the beers especially. Rostocker, Hamburger, Dantzger duppelbier (equal to our XX), Preussing, Brunswick mumme, Hanoverian broyhan, English beer, which, along with many more, were, we are told, infinitely preferable to such rubbish as Wittemburg cuckoo, Buffalo, or “Leipzig herb-flavoured body-rending Rastrum,” whatever that may have been.⁠[189]

It must have been a highly edifying spectacle a mediæval German drinking-feast, comprising a mixed company of guests, who acknowledged and obeyed the drinking-code (Zech-recht). There was no promiscuous hobnobbing, and caste was duly respected then as now. Nobles were not permitted to drink with tradespeople, but they might raise their glass to a student, and he in like manner might condescend to notice a tradesman, [109]for there was no knowing of what advantage such a recognition might be to a student.⁠[190] A case is cited where a merchant (pedlar, we presume) actually gave a poor “studiosus” a pair of beautiful silk stockings the morning after a carouse, for which he had expressed a longing during the entertainment. Young maidens were permitted to drink platonically with virtuous young men, but they are warned in droll and not very modest terms against “pseudo-prophêtes,” who are “lupi rapaces” in sheep’s clothing, and the evils of drinking “sisterhood” with such ravening wolves are duly and circumstantially set forth in the code.⁠[191] One clause is devoted specially to the expressions in vogue amongst ladies, who may find it necessary, whilst at table, to protect themselves against the too gross familiarities of their gallant neighbours.⁠[192]

As a rule, guests might not pledge persons who were present, unless it were a sweetheart, and that toast must be drunk “ad unguem”⁠[193]—that is to say, in a bumper—the drinkers afterwards reversing their goblets and ringing them on the thumb-nail, to show that not a drop was left therein. This has been a common drinking custom in several countries. Toasts were drunk in various ways: sometimes one man drank from two glasses at once; at others, when virtuous young ladies sat by the side of respectable young men, they were allowed to drink simultaneously from the same goblet, and it was deplored that such a mode of drinking could not become more general, on account of the [110]wild behaviour of the youth of the period.⁠[194] Regular penalties were inflicted for sneezing and coughing into the goblets, and for certain other offences against decency and propriety, which, although they seem to have been everyday occurrences at those carousals, are unfit to be spoken of in genteel society. When newcomers arrived, the goblet was offered to them, with sundry compliments and orations, and to refuse to drink was a mortal offence, usually followed by a bloody encounter. When a guest found it difficult to keep pace with the company, or could not empty his goblet at a draught, he might avail himself of the aid of any young lady who sat by his side, but old ladies were not allowed to render assistance under such circumstances, for they were too fond of their liquor themselves.⁠[195]

When men became riotous, gentle means were first to be employed to quiet them; if they still persisted, warnings followed; and should they then remain contumacious, they were to be well thrashed and sent home “as cheaply as possible.” Table and window breaking were severely punished, and certain acts of indecency, if practised before ladies, were to be resented by seizing the offender and pitching him neck-and-crop into the street.⁠[196]

Should the reader be desirous of studying this remarkable code⁠[197] (whatever view he may take of its authenticity as a serious production), he will find it composed in mediæval German, interspersed with Latin and Greek phrases, as though it had been collated by some learned ecclesiastic, which is more than probable—that [111]is to say, by some drunken hanger-on at a monastery; and he will see how the German youth of bygone days studied as “vini et cerevisiæ candidatus,” and eventually graduated in the courts of Bacchus. But if he imagines that the picture is overdrawn, we should recommend him to consult the historical records, and he will find that no language can adequately portray the state of morals in Germany in those days, at least so far as drunkenness was concerned.⁠[198]

As already stated, in the highest as in the lowest ranks drinking to excess was the universal practice. Kings set the example and subjects followed it. One of the most temperate of the old Kaisers, Rudolph of Hapsburg, is said to have called out in a loud voice in the streets of Erfurt, holding a glass of beer up to the light, “Well! well! (Wohlan! wohlan!) What splendid beer! I am sure it comes from Conrad of Bustede,” and by this exclamation to have made himself extremely popular amongst the Erfurters; just as our own Prince of Wales is believed by some to have won the hearts of all true Britons by asking for a glass of bitter beer on recovering consciousness during a dangerous illness. The stories which are told of excesses in noble families, and of cruelties practised in their indulgence, are not fit to be narrated in these pages. In some noble households registers were kept from generation to generation, called drink-albums, in which not only the men entered their exploits, but—O tempora, O mores—the Gräfin von Schwillensaufenstein was allowed to inscribe her name [112]and sentiments (if she was able to write) side by side with those of the Baron von Saus und Braus.⁠[199] To be considered of gentle blood, a man must of necessity be capable of draining off his bumper at a draught. The goblet was an essential part of all ceremonies; when the vassal swore fealty to his lord; at christenings, funerals, tournaments, archery meetings; wherever knight met knight or burghers congregated, there drinking followed. Bargains were concluded over the goblet; indeed, a certain stipulated quantity of beer, to be drunk there and then, formed part of the contract. The language of modern Germany, and of England, for that matter, bears testimony to the universal thirst. “Trink-geld” or drink-money—“allowance” with us—means a gratuity for services rendered or not rendered. The “thirst” for gold, for glory, or for fame; “intoxicated” with success or with love; “drinking” one’s fill of some sensual delight, and many more such expressions, serve to remind us of the paramount influence of drink in bygone days. German intemperance had really become a byword amongst nations, as the edict of Karl IV. declared. Antonius Campanius, an official witling who represented the Pope at the Court of Frederick III., wrote to his master, “Nil hic est aliud vivere, quam bibere,”—“Living here is nought but drinking.” He might have gone further, and have said that even snoozing was nought but boozing; for not only had each hour of the day and each occasion its appropriate drink, but even the “schlaf-trunk,” i.e., the sleeping-draught, was taken to the bedside of guests at night.⁠[200]

The cheapness and varieties of intoxicating drinks, too, had something to do with the prevailing drunkenness. Besides mead and beer, there were numerous kinds of wine and liquors made from the grape, mulberry, apple, pear, &c., and a favourite spiced wine called “Lütertrank.”⁠[201] The low price of wines at that time has been commemorated in a proverb of the year 1539:

It was about that time that the enormous casks which are still so famous were erected; that at Tübingen was twenty-four feet long and sixteen feet in height, and the one at Heidelberg is of similar proportions. The goblets which were used resembled the gigantic cups of ancient Rome, and, like them, were made of various materials. Husbands presented their wives with goblets of gold on their wedding mornings, and no greater compliment could be paid by a vassal to his lord than to offer him a handsome gold drinking vessel. Such goblets were often covered with narratives of the drunken exploits of their owners. Nor were the clergy any better than their flocks, although they preached against and denounced drunkenness loudly enough. We shall have an opportunity of studying their ways later on, but for the present one or two extracts from the ecclesiastical chronicles and canons must suffice. In the monastery of St. Gall, during the tenth century, each [114]monk received daily five measures of beer, besides occasional allowances of wine, which were consumed at breakfast, dinner, and supper; and healths were often pledged by the abbots.⁠[202] “Amongst these vices,” said a preacher in Germany in the ninth century, “feasting and drunkenness especially reign, since not only the rude and vulgar people, but the noble and powerful of the land, are given up to them. Both sexes and all ages have made intemperance into a custom; ... and so greatly has the plague spread, that it has infected some of our own order in the priesthood, so that not only do they not correct the drunkards, but become drunkards themselves.”⁠[203]

Again, the writer here quoted tells us of the penalties attached to drunkenness amongst priests:—“1. If a bishop or any one ordained has a habit of drunkenness, he must either resign or be deposed. 2. If a monk drinks till he vomits, he must do thirty days’ penance; if a priest or deacon, forty days. But if this happens from weakness of stomach or from long abstinence, and he was not in the habit of excessive drinking or eating, or if he did it in excess of joy on Christmas or Easter days, or the commemoration of some saint, and if then he did not take more than has been regulated by our predecessors, it is not to be punished. If the bishop urged him, the fault is not to be imputed to the monk, unless he gladly consented. 4. If a priest gets drunk through inadvertence, he must do penance seven days; if through carelessness, fifteen days; if through contempt, [115]forty days; a deacon or monk, four weeks; a sub-deacon, three; a layman, one week.”⁠[204]

These quotations need no comment; the inferences to be drawn from them may safely be left to the reader’s own judgment.⁠[205]

But what neither legislative enactments, nor orders of temperance, nor priestly admonitions, nor the pen of the satirist could accomplish, was brought about insensibly and without an effort during the eighteenth century, when various circumstances conduced to transform the Germans from one of the most drunken to one of the soberest nations in Europe. The introduction of Italian and French fashions into the rude courts of Germany had something to do with the change; but this chiefly affected the uppermost ranks of society. The importation of innocuous beverages from the East—tea, coffee, and chocolate—and their extended use by all classes, as well as the substitution of a milder but more palatable kind of beer for the strong drink of the preceding centuries, were the principal agents in the reform.⁠[206] Moreover, the consumption of brandy, which was very great before the Thirty Years’ War, had considerably diminished, and by slow degrees the love of strong drink ceased to characterise the various sections of society, from the denizens of the court to those of the workshop. The last to relinquish their old depraved habits were the students of the universities. It was not until after the revolution of 1848, which reconstituted European [116]society, that the German “Bursche” forsook his evil ways; and although there is still great room for improvement, he now compares favourably in his habits with the students of other countries. But there is still another factor in the modern civilisation of Germany which has been too little considered by moralists, namely, the influence of compulsory education upon the masses. This is the true corrective of the evil results which must always be feared from the increasing affluence of the working classes, and it is to be hoped it may operate favourably in Germany as well as in our own industrial community.

But one of the writers whom we have quoted seems rather to have regretted the good old toping days which were departing, and to have thought that with the introduction of Oriental beverages all the manliness and intellect of his countrymen would vanish. Indeed, he exclaims despairingly, “And thus we see that it is with whole nations as with individuals. One wicked, vehement passion is seldom exterminated excepting by another. An old demon is rarely expelled otherwise than by a new one.”⁠[207]

This was written towards the close of the eighteenth century. What would he have said if he had lived to witness Gravelotte, Metz, and Sedan?

We are all too prone to look upon the rose-coloured side of the national life whilst we are travelling abroad, and it may be that a German tourist whilst in England would be so impressed with the indications of industry and prosperity which meet his eye wherever he goes, that the heinousness of our national vice would be mitigated [117]or partially lost from his view in the surrounding glare. So, too, it is possible that, in judging the German people of to-day, the author has been too favourably impressed with those aspects of life which are presented to the holiday-seeker. His observation has not, however, been quite superficial, and his impressions of the moral and intellectual condition of the Germans is not now stated for the first time.⁠[208] Drunkenness appears to have given place to sobriety, coarse sensual pleasures to intellectual enjoyments resulting from the cultivation of music and the fine arts. The very temperance societies of Germany bear witness to the sobriety of the working classes, and present a strange contrast to our own, for they deem it unnecessary to do more than enjoin moderation in drinking.⁠[209] The old writer must, indeed, himself have been imbued with that passion which for centuries made Germany the scorn and byword of Europe (although some of her neighbours, forsooth, had little to boast of in the matter of temperance), a vice which threatened eventually to hand her over to the same fate as ancient Rome had suffered at the hands of her ancestry. If only her people are as successful in securing political freedom⁠[210] as they have been in emancipating themselves from the besetting sin of their forefathers, there is a great and happy future in store for the “Fatherland.”

Although we will endeavour, for the sake of convenience, to divide the story of drink in England into something like epochs, the distinction between any two periods must by no means be considered arbitrary. The conquering Danes are said to have stimulated and intensified the passion for drink in the Anglo-Saxons, and those again, it is maintained by some writers, corrupted and debauched the Normans when they settled in England. So, again, modern writers amongst the Roman Catholic clergy declare that the Reformation deprived the Church of her due influence over the social habits of the people, and that drunkenness as a national vice increased materially after that event,⁠[211] whereas numerous authors, both Protestant and Catholic, have drawn vivid pictures of the debaucheries practised by the monks themselves, and more than one eminent writer goes so far as to say that the whole tenor of mediæval popular and historical literature shows the clergy to have been the great corruptors of domestic [119]virtue both in the burgher and agricultural classes.⁠[212] It is quite possible, therefore, that one class of society may have indulged immoderately whilst another order was comparatively sober; and all we shall attempt to do will be to glance down the pages of history, and note any phases of our subject which we deem likely to interest the reader, and which bear upon our general conclusions.

There can be little doubt that, in the matter of drink, the Anglo-Saxons resembled their congeners abroad, and that intemperance was one of their conspicuous vices. Their drinks were chiefly ale and mead, the latter being prepared from honey, which was very plentiful in England. They took their potations from horns and cups of various shapes, some of which are still preserved, and make considerable pretensions to art. That drinking was common in monasteries is shown by the fact that cups of various materials, and some of very large size, were often bestowed upon or left to religious houses by princes and nobles. Amongst many other instances of this, Lady Ethelgiva is said to have presented to the Abbey of Ramsey, among other things, “two silver cups for the use of the brethren in the refectory, in order that while drink is served in them to the brethren at their repast, my memory may be more firmly imprinted on their hearts.”⁠[213] Nor need there be any doubt of the use to which such cups were often put. A Roman Catholic writer on temperance, whom we shall often have occasion to quote, [120]and who is not at all disposed to exaggerate the vices of the priesthood, gives anything but a flattering picture of the habits of the Anglo-Saxon clergy.

St. Boniface, he says, writes as follows in the eighth century to Cuthbert, Archbishop of Canterbury:—“It is reported that in your dioceses the vice of drunkenness is too frequent, so that not only certain bishops do not hinder it, but they themselves indulge in excess of drink, and force others to drink till they are intoxicated. This is most certainly a great crime for a servant of God to do or to have done, since the ancient canons decree that a bishop or a priest given to drink should either resign or be deposed.”⁠[214] And the same writer gives us extracts from the canons which determine the penances and punishments to be borne by priests addicted to drunkenness, and which show plainly that the vice was by no means exceptional, but was widely spread amongst the clergy. We shall revert to this portion of the subject presently, and have only to remark here, that, with such an example in their spiritual superiors, it is no wonder the laity should be addicted to excess in drinking. Their bouts were conducted pretty much in the style of those of other nations. They pledged each other freely, the distinctive feature in their case being that the ceremony was accompanied by a kiss; and from the illuminated manuscripts which have been handed down to us,⁠[215] we learn that their entertainments were accompanied by such amusements as singing the national poetry, recounting their own exploits, propounding riddles, dancing, and rude instrumental music. Amongst the wealthier classes [121]professional minstrels were kept, but in humbler life each guest took his turn in contributing to the joviality of the feast. As may be readily imagined, when the liquor began to take effect, the guests usually became noisy and quarrelsome, their disputes frequently terminating in strife and bloodshed. As not every reader can be expected to follow these accounts of Anglo-Saxon life to their source, it may be interesting if we give a brief description of a scene represented upon one of the illuminated manuscripts referred to, as it presents a vivid picture of jollity in that day.

The guests are seated at a round table, near which stands a cupbearer, who is pouring out some kind of drink from a large vase-shaped vessel, resembling the Roman amphora. In the centre of the picture a man and woman, evidently professionals, are dancing to music, which consists of a harp (played by two men), two trumpet-shaped instruments, apparently buffalo horns, and one of which appears to have stops or keys, and a species of guitar. At one side of the picture is a person (of which sex it is impossible to say) who, it is thought by the author of the work which contains the picture, is about to join the players, but who seems to us to be engaged in recitation.⁠[216] It is not our province to enter further into the amusements which were engaged in during these feasts, but it may be mentioned in passing, that amongst them were gambling with dice, witnessing sleight-of-hand performances, acrobatic exercises, &c. That the feasts very often terminated in [122]deadly strife is certain from the accounts that are still extant. Here is the translation of part of an Anglo-Saxon legend in which the Evil Spirit describes the influence which he exercises over the festive board:—

Women joined the men in their feasts; but it is said that, as in recent times, they retired from the table before the heavy drinking began, and the blood of the company was roused. The lower classes, both men and women, frequented taverns, of which there were many all over the country, and there they were joined by the more dissolute of the clergy, who were always welcome guests at such parties. Inns were very rare, and the result was, that, as in all primitive races or sparsely peopled countries, travellers were received in private and religious houses, and the practice of hospitality was universal.

But whilst it is beyond doubt that in Anglo-Saxon times both laity and clergy drank to excess, it is only due to the latter to say that the great preachers denounced drunkenness, and visited it with more or less severe [123]punishment. We have referred to the canons that were framed against it, extracts from a few of which, accompanied by references to the cause of their promulgation, may be found interesting, and will save the necessity of repetition at a later period, for they were promulgated time after time in a modified form by the Councils of the Church.

St. Gildas the Wise (A.D. 570) decreed, “If any one (that is, a monk) through drinking too freely gets thick of speech, so that he cannot join in the psalmody, he is to be deprived of his supper.”⁠[218] No very severe penalty that; for he would probably be all the better for the abstinence. The year previously (A.D. 569), synods were held by St. David, and amongst the decrees we find the following, which refers to priests:—“He that forces another to get drunk out of hospitality must do penance as if he had got drunk himself. But he who out of hatred or wickedness, in order to disgrace or mock at others, forces them to get drunk, if he has not already sufficiently done penance, must do penance as a murderer of souls.”⁠[219]

The reverend author whom we are quoting explains that the Anglo-Saxon monasteries were sometimes villages or towns with many hundred inmates, many of whom were laymen, and to them he is disposed to attribute the drunkenness. Besides, of the monks he says, that after their days in which long fasting was joined to manual labour, “it is no wonder that, when the refreshment hour came, the beer got into the heads of some.”⁠[220] Other very conscientious writers do not, however, endorse this view, and, as we have already said, they charge the [124]monastic orders with great excesses. One of these says that in early Anglo-Saxon times both nunneries and convents were places in which the worst vices were practised. It was the fashion, he says, for nobles and others to purchase crown lands upon pretence of founding a monastery; upon which they made themselves abbots, collected a convent out of expelled monks (a proof that in some monasteries at least dissolute monks were not tolerated), and led a life perfectly secular, bringing their wives into the monastery, and being husbands and abbots at the same time. Nor were the nunneries, at least some of them, any better. The nuns of Coldingham are said to have spent their time in feasting, drinking, and gossiping. “They also employed themselves in working fine clothes, dressing themselves like brides, and acquiring the favour of strange men.”⁠[221]

Against such places the Anglo-Saxon synods preached and remonstrated. They forbade all the practices referred to, and advised the abbots and monks to set a good example themselves, to be vigilant against theft, and to inculcate reading both in monks and nuns; monasteries were not to be made the receptacles of ludicrous arts, of poets, harpers, fiddlers, and buffoons, such as we have described in connection with the festivals of the laity. “They were not to be houses of gossiping and drunkenness;” and “abbots and abbesses were to be chosen of approved life, not stained with the crimes of child-getting, homicide, or theft, but leading regular lives in their cloisters.”⁠[222]

Still the use of wine and beer was not by any means forbidden in religious houses. Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury [125](A.D. 925-988), limited the supply of wine as follows:—After mass the officiating ministers received a quarter of a pound of bread and a quarter of a pint of wine; this was called mixtus. After collations (which did not mean lunch, as nowadays, but reading of Lives of the Fathers) on feast days, each monk received a cup of wine, which was followed by a few words of thanksgiving by the abbot; and both there and in other well-regulated monasteries drinking does not appear to have been excessive.⁠[223] With time, however, as we shall see presently, great changes for the worse supervened.

The Danes are said to have been much heavier drinkers than the Saxons, and from the stories which are told of them in the old chronicles, the soldiers seem to have set no bounds upon their intemperance. More than one anecdote is related of guards being overcome by drink;⁠[224] and every child knows the story of King Alfred introducing himself in the disguise of a minstrel into the camp of Guthrum the Danish general, and finding his soldiers steeped in drunkenness and dissipation. The last Danish king, Hardicanute, was a great drunkard; in fact, his death is said to have resulted in 1042 from a debauch at Lambeth.

With the advent of the Normans new phases of social life were introduced into England, and at first there may have been a little less coarseness in the drinking customs of the conquerors than in those of the vanquished race. The former did not, however, long enjoy even that qualified reputation for sobriety, and they are said soon to have excelled the Saxons in [126]their feats of debauchery. Our information regarding their ways and customs is derived from other sources besides those which we have hitherto examined. The French illuminated manuscripts as well as our own give us considerable insight into the habits of the time, and show that similar customs obtained in both countries. The chief sources of information are, however, the French and Anglo-Norman Fabliaux or tales in verse, written chiefly in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and the Bayeux tapestry. We learn a good deal from the wood carvings of the period still preserved in churches, and from the “men” which were used in the favourite game of chess; the chronicles of the monasteries, too, are a fertile source of instruction. Our attention will naturally be turned first to the nobles and knights, and along with them we shall consider the clerics, many of them priests-militant, and the monastic orders.

In the early Norman times we have little else than accounts of knightly debauchery. Here are two of them, anything but edifying, but both remarkably characteristic of a victorious and dominant race of soldiers. The first is taken from the Life of Hereward.⁠[225] “The new Lord of Brunne (a Norman baron) was surrounded by his knights, who were scattered about helpless from the extent of their potations, and reclining on the laps of their women. In the midst of them stood a jongleur or minstrel, alternately singing and exciting their mirth with coarse and brutal jests.” It is, says the writer, a first rough sketch of a part of mediæval manners which we shall find more fully developed at a later period. The same author says that in the reign of Stephen [127]“we find the amusements of the hall varied with the torture of captured enemies.”

The other account referred to is taken from the Chronicles of St. Edmundsbury, and relates to a time (A.D. 1194) when the monastery was under the rule of a good and sober abbot, Sampson by name. A tournament was held near St. Edmund, after which eighty young men with their followers, sons of noblemen, were invited to dine with the abbot; “but,” says the chronicle, “after dinner, the abbot retiring to his chamber, they all arose and began to carol and sing, sending into the town for wine, drinking and then screeching, depriving the abbot and convent of their sleep, and doing everything in scorn of the abbot, and spending the day, until the evening, in this manner,⁠[226] and refused to desist even when the abbot commanded them. But when the evening was come, they broke open the gates of the town and went forth bodily. The abbot indeed solemnly excommunicated them, yet not without first consulting Hubert, at that time Justiciar,⁠[227] and many of them came promising amendment and seeking absolution.”⁠[228]

As an amusing contrast to this example of knightly misconduct and ecclesiastical reproof, we propose to describe a similar breach of the peace committed by the lower classes, taken from the same chronicles, and the reader will see the difference in the mode of dealing with the rich and the poor in those days, as well as in the influence exercised by the Church over the [128]two classes of society. “On the morrow of the Nativity of our Lord, there took place in the churchyard meetings, wrestlings, and matches between the servants of the abbot and the burgesses of the town, and from words it came to blows, and from cuffs to wounds and to shedding of blood. The rioters were obliged to do penance by stripping themselves altogether naked except their drawers, to prostrate themselves before the door of the church; and when the abbot saw more than a hundred men lying down naked he wept. They were then sharply whipped and absolved.”⁠[229]

Of course the propensity to over-indulgence was not universal, even in the race of warriors who had quartered themselves upon the forest lands of Britain. The Normans were always more polished in their manners than the Anglo-Saxons, and their dwellings were much more commodious. This we learn not only from the appearance of the remains of those buildings, but also from the statements of the learned men of the period. William of Malmesbury, who wrote about the year 1130, says that “the Saxon nobility passed entire nights and days in drinking, and consumed their whole substance in mean and despicable houses; that they had their hair cropped, their beards shaven, their arms laden with golden bracelets, and their skin adorned with punctured designs; that they were accustomed to eat till they became surfeited, and to drink till they were sick. And these latter qualities,” adds the candid Norman historian, “they imparted to their conquerors.”⁠[230]

In well-regulated Norman households, the dinner, which was partaken of early in the forenoon, was not [129]accompanied by excessive drinking. After it was removed, and the ceremony of washing performed, the wine-cup was passed round once, and the guests retired. Sometimes wine and sweetmeats were served in an adjoining apartment, and on grand occasions the after-dinner entertainment comprised not only drinking, but story-telling and performances by jongleurs, which, we are told, were often very obscene, even in the presence of the ladies. It was customary, by the way, for the lady of the house, however high her rank might be, occasionally to fill the cups of the guests, and on the chessmen of the twelfth century the “queen” usually carries a drinking horn. Some of these chessmen are still preserved.

We need not be surprised that the performances of the jongleurs before ladies were indecent, for the ladies themselves were by no means refined. There has been no attempt, that we know of, to edit the English “Jus potandi” of the Middle Ages, but it is certain that about the thirteenth century a genuine code of rules for good behaviour was published for the guidance of the fair sex. They were cautioned to avoid certain offences against morality which we could not even venture to repeat here; and in regard to drinking, they were warned not to get drunk, “that being a practice from which much mischief might arise.” “Each time you drink,” wrote their mentor, “wipe your mouth well, that no grease may go into the wine, which is very unpleasant to the person who drinks after you.”⁠[231] From this it would appear that there was a partnership in cups in those days—at least, that each guest was not provided with a drinking vessel for his sole use.

After the Anglo-Saxon and Norman races became amalgamated, the lower classes were no better than their superiors. What the latter did in the hall, the former accomplished in the tavern, where the women are said to have spent much time idling and gossiping. The men, too, often wasted their whole substance in such haunts, drinking, and gambling with dice; and cases occurred in which one or other of the players gambled away his last garment, and was left in a state of complete nudity. The wealthy ecclesiastics lived in still greater luxury than the lay nobles and knights, for their revenues were protected by their sacred calling even in times of great commotion, and they never found it necessary to make a raid upon their neighbours’ cattle for a meal. Giraldus Cambrensis, or Gerald Barry, Archdeacon of Brecknock (1175-1200) describes a dinner with the Prior of Canterbury, where there were wines of various kinds, “piment, claret, mead, and others;” and at which, moreover, there was “licentious discourse.”⁠[232] The same writer speaks of the Irish clergy, and after lauding their zealous preaching, fasting, and chastity, he concludes by saying that, “amongst so many thousands, you will not find one who, after all his rigorous observance of fasts and prayer, will not make up at night for the labours of the day, by drinking wine and other liquors beyond all bounds of decorum.”⁠[233] The latter statement, indeed, seems incredible to the Catholic author who quotes it; but there need not be much hesitation in giving it credence, for it is completely confirmed by the other records of the period. These tell us that the monks ate and drank very intemperately, and that they selected the strongest wines; [131]and one published bill of fare contains twenty-seven different dishes—fish, flesh, fowl, &c.—along with a variety of liquors.⁠[234]

Every reader has heard of the cellarer, who managed the commissariat, and whose emoluments and powers were very great, not only within the convent, but even outside its precincts. At St. Edmundsbury he held a court, and had a prison in which he confined wrong-doers. Yet these officials were often guilty of great excesses. In 1197 the cellarer at St. Edmundsbury was displaced for drunkenness, and the following year his successor, Jocell, committed an offence for which the abbot forbade him to drink anything but water; and he still remaining contumacious, his superior forbade him both meat and drink until he repented.⁠[235] About the same time another official (not the cellarer) had been sent to look after some of the estates of the convent, when it came to the abbot’s ears that he was “deporting himself in somewhat too secular a manner,” as the chronicle mildly puts it; but as he was serviceable to the community, the abbot winked at his irregularities. Eventually, however, they became so gross that the abbot could “wink” no longer, and his effects were ordered to be seized. To the astonishment of the brotherhood, they were found to comprise “a mighty deal of gold and silver, to the value of two hundred marks.”⁠[236]

Nor were the opportunities for over-indulgence in drink very rare. Besides the sacred feasts, Christmas, Easter, &c., when the monks were not so closely restricted, and were allowed to take a little more wine than usual “in [132]excess of joy,” we presume, there were other occasions which were made the excuse for “a drop extra.” On the admission of an abbot it was customary to allow every man a gallon of wine, a whole loaf, and three handsome dishes of fish.⁠[237] As already stated, the abbots themselves fared very sumptuously. At one period they lived apart from the monks, but in the ninth century the Council of Aix (and others afterwards) ordered them to dine in the common refectory, to put bounds upon their indulgence. After that, wine was brought to them in their chamber when dinner was over. The prior, too, was allowed more wine than the monks; he might send his cup to the cellarer to be filled once or twice, and that officer had no power to refuse him. Much more has been written concerning the drinking habits of the monks, but, as we shall have to revert to them at a period when the whole system had become much more corrupt, we must stop here, and will close the present chapter with a brief mention of the kinds of intoxicating drinks which were consumed in Anglo-Saxon and Norman times.

These were beer and ale (Welsh ale is mentioned at a very early period), which varied very much in price, several gallons being at one time obtainable for a penny, whilst later on they were much dearer.⁠[238] Mead or hydromel was a fermented drink produced from honey [133]and flavoured with herbs and spices. Wines also were coming into use. They were produced either from grapes grown in England, those being very poor in quality, or were imported from France, Italy, Spain, and Greece; and amongst them we find mention made of claret, muscadelle, malmsey, &c. The wine called “piment” in a feast referred to in the present chapter was a sour thin wine, sweetened and flavoured with sugar, honey, and spices.

In order not to weary the reader with reiterated accounts of the drinking customs of our ancestors, which varied little in their character during three or four centuries subsequent to the period of which we treated in our last chapter, we propose to pass somewhat rapidly over the ground until we come to the Reformation, and we will first refer to the well-known merrymakings, gatherings of the people in various parts of England, at which, amidst a lavish consumption of liquor, all the important local business, both lay and clerical, was transacted. Those meetings were known by the generic name of “ales,” from the drink which was there provided, and they were called either after the season at which they were held, as “Whitsun-ale,” “Easter-ale,” or after the object for which they were convened, as “church-ales,” where the money was paid for the support of the Church; “bid-ales” or “help-ales,” when charitable contributions were required for some one in need; “bride-ales,” literally wedding festivals, where the bride turned an honest penny by selling ale at an exorbitant price; and numerous others of a like description. At first those meetings were encouraged by the clergy, as is proved by the [135]fact that at one period they were actually held in the churches themselves in certain places,⁠[239] and also by the agreements to which the clergy were parties for the benefit of the Church. Here is an example of such agreements:—

These “ales,” and other similar merrymakings, to [136]which distance lends such enchantment in the eyes of many Englishmen, soon became a public nuisance, and they were conducted in such an unruly manner as to cause great uneasiness to the civil authorities. Two of the most objectionable features were, that they were often held in and about churches, as already stated, and also that Sundays and feast-days were usually selected for their celebration. Whatever has been said to the contrary, it was the Church that encouraged them; not only the Roman Catholic clergy,⁠[241] but, for some time after the Reformation, the High Church dignitaries of the Established Church, and chief amongst them was Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury. They were the cause of bitter strife at the period referred to. At first they were denounced by Puritan ministers of all religions, and then, as the period of the Reformation approached, efforts were made to suppress them. To those efforts Queen Elizabeth lent her sanction, and in the 38th year of her reign the justices assembled at Bridgewater ordered the total suppression of “church-ales,” “clerk-ales,” and “bid-ales,” and the decree was signed by the Lord Chief-Justice. Similar orders were issued and enforced in the reign of James I.; but in the following reign, when Chief-Justice Richardson and Baron Denham published an order to suppress Sunday revels, the former was told in the most insulting manner by Laud, the Primate, that the justices had exceeded their duties; that wakes and ales were religious institutions; and that although some correction of their abuses might be required, the lay tribunals had nothing to [137]do with the matter, which was one of spiritual jurisdiction.⁠[242]

A violent controversy followed between the Puritans and the clergy of the Church of England; and so long as they were allowed to last, the terrors of the Star Chamber and High Commission were employed by the latter to counteract any efforts that were made to suppress the scandalous desecration of sacred days and sacred places. But the Commonwealth, which purged the country of many abuses, at least corrected that one. An Act of Parliament was passed forbidding the holding of “ales” and merrymakings within the precincts of places of worship or on the Sabbaths, and from that time they gradually lost their importance. Although the divorce between religion and beer was not then completely effected, the open recognition and support of the Church has not since been extended to the liquor traffic.

In the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries living became more luxurious amongst the higher classes, especially the clergy, and intemperance grosser amongst the lower orders and those who haunted taverns. In the year 1466, when George Nevile was made Archbishop of York, amongst the drink supplied at the feast of his installation there were 300 tuns of ale and 100 tuns of wine; and in 1504, when William Warham was enthroned Archbishop of Canterbury, there was a fish banquet at which were provided 6 tuns of red wine, 4 of claret wine, 1 of choice white wine, 1 of white wine for the kitchen, 1 butt of Malmsey, 1 pipe of wine of Osey, 2 tierces of Rhenish wine, 4 tuns of London ale, 6 of Kentish ale, and 20 of English beer.⁠[243]

Amongst the upper classes generally there seems to have been greater variety than in Norman and Saxon times both in eating and drinking, but little more refinement, and certainly not any more sobriety. We learn from the French “Romances” and “Moralities,” that both in France and England drunkenness was very prevalent, and its evil consequences are there often described in allegory. In the fifteenth century a French code of morals was published, in which people were told not to get intoxicated during dinner. One poem of the period, called the “Doctrinal des Filles” warned young ladies against talking scandal and believing in dreams, against drinking too much wine, and being too talkative at table; and they were also cautioned by the writer, a good Catholic, against being alone with a priest except at confession.

Dancing appears to have been carried to great excess, and to have been accompanied by immodest gestures. Young ladies were advised, therefore, to be modest in their bearing, lest they should be mistaken for what they were not:—

The women of the middle and lower classes were of low morals, and spent much of their time in taverns. This practice grew, until there were parties of them assembled there who took with them the solid food for a meal.

And this custom of each woman contributing her share to the feast was the origin of our modern picnic.

Taverns had become very numerous, not only in towns and villages, but also by the roadside. They were known by a garland or bush hanging out—hence the saying, “Good wine needs no bush;” and the publicans do not seem to have enjoyed a high reputation. The writer whom we have so often quoted tells us that the taverns were the haunts of gamblers, and that the “taverner” took articles of dress in pledge for drink.⁠[246] (So there has been a division of labour, it seems, in our day in this as in every other branch of human industry!) There, too, indecent songs were sung, and those who frequented them were made drunk by dissolute women and plundered.

The female publicans or “alewives” were no better than the men, and we are told that there is still a carving in a seat in Ludlow Church which represents Satan carrying off the alewife, with her gay head-dress and false measure; and in the same church there is another carving of a mediæval tapster drawing ale.

This account of the taverns is quite borne out by the religious records of the period. Priests are warned, time after time, not to frequent such places, which are spoken of as being unfit for respectable people to visit. And yet it would appear that they were sometimes kept by priests themselves; for in 1255, Walter, Bishop of [140]Durham, forbids “those in holy orders that they be not drunkards nor keep taverns, lest they die an eternal death.”⁠[248] And, finally, if Shakspeare is to be considered a trustworthy authority concerning the manners of the times of which he treats, the frequenters of taverns were by no means confined to the lower classes; and those institutions in the Middle Ages (for we shall have occasion to refer to them as they exist to-day) must have reached their full growth and perfection when Prince Hal resented the rudeness of the “sweet knight” Falstaff in the presence of that “honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman,” Doll Tear-Sheet, at the Boar’s Head Tavern in Eastcheap!⁠[249]

And now we must direct our attention once more to the religious houses, which, after all, occupied the most prominent place in the society of the Middle Ages. With the exception of the universities, they were almost the only centres of learning and the fine arts, which they kept alive during the dark ages, whilst the country was either distracted by civil war or depopulated to raise armies for foreign conquest. They were refuges, too, from the tyranny of the feudal lords, many of whom they awed and controlled by the threat of the Church’s displeasure; and whilst the clang of arms resounded through the land, and robbery and violence were the order of the day in the secular world, in their cloisters the hymn of praise ascended on high, and round about their sacred precincts the arts and industry [141]continued to flourish. But all human institutions are liable to debasement, and even those devoted to the noblest ends and sanctioned by the highest authority did not escape the general corruption.

As in the present day in mountainous and thinly peopled countries, so in the Middle Ages the monasteries were the chief inns for travellers. But they were hospices in the true sense of the term, no charge being made to wayfarers during their sojourn, which was, however, limited to a certain number of days. Each convent had attached to it a guest-house, which was under the superintendence of a guest-master, whose duty it was to provide wayfarers with food and to economise the expenses. So we find, for example, that “Abbot Sampson found the cellarer in debt £50” (a very large sum at that time, A.D. 1197), “and he said the debt was incurred through excess in feasting in the prior’s inn by the assent of the prior and cellarer, and superfluous expenses in the guest-house by the carelessness of the hospitaller [guest-master]; and he took the cellary and charge of the guests into his own hands, appointing two monks to act for him.”⁠[250] Thus it will be seen that at a very early period already the guest-houses and other places attached to the convents were made the resorts of drinking; this soon extended to the refectory or dining-hall, and at length to every part of the convent and its surroundings.

Guests were hospitably received, especially if they were persons of distinction; and when there was a tendency to intemperance on the part of the monks, they were tempted to indulge in excesses in which the latter joined, and drinking is said in some cases to have [142]been kept up until midnight. The refectory itself was adorned with a great variety of drinking vessels, amongst which the most prominent was the “grace-cup,” out of which the monks drank all round, “and another larger one, with smaller within, where stood the mazers, of which each monk had his peculiar one.”⁠[251]

The monks were proverbially bon vivants both in eating and drinking, as is shown by the records and illuminated manuscripts. One of the latter of the fourteenth century, which is to be found in the Arundel collection in the British Museum, depicts a monk cramming himself with pasties supplied to him by a naked imp, and another of about the same date represents a cellarer drawing wine or ale into a large jug with one hand, and carrying a cup to his mouth with the other.⁠[252] Several of the illuminations and carvings of the period prove also that drunkenness was not the only vice practised by the monks; and in one of them a monk and a lady are seen together suffering the penalty of their sins in the stocks, whilst the public is represented by a small boy jeering at them and enjoying their shame.

As might naturally be supposed, the higher officers of the convents took better care of the morals of their inferiors than they did of their own. We have already given instances of lavish extravagance in the abbots, and amongst many similar cases, “Thomas Pennant, Abbot of Basingstoke, is said to have given twice the treasure of a king in wine.”⁠[253] But the best pictures of monastic life have been handed down to us in the satires written by the monks and clerics themselves, in which is shown [143]the difference of treatment experienced by the various degrees in a convent. The following is an extract from one of these satires:—

Another brief extract from a satirical song composed by a monk at a somewhat later date illustrates the situation admirably:—

The inquiry into the condition of religious houses under Henry VIII., which led to the suppression of 376 of those establishments, and the transfer of their revenues to the crown, revealed a state of affairs which [144]some Catholics of to-day are reluctant to credit. But, as one of our most accurate and unprejudiced historians has said, the reports of those visitors were so minute and specific, that it is rather a preposterous degree of incredulity to reject their testimony when it bears hard upon the regulars; and the commendation bestowed upon some religious houses as pure and unexceptionable affords a presumption that the censure upon others was not an indiscriminate prejudging of their merits.⁠[255]

The abbots were found to keep mistresses, to be the fathers of grown-up sons, who lived with them openly; and the inferior officers were shown to be dishonest men, who obtained their posts by flattery or purchase, and whose vices, when once they were in office, were of the worst kind. They oppressed people with violence and unfair exactions, frequented taverns and other indecorous places, had the company of women in private places and to eat and drink with them.⁠[256]

The monks themselves were accused of the gravest breaches of the law—treason, perjury, gambling, drunkenness, “swearing by the body of Christ,” murderous assaults upon each other when they were gambling or in their cups, and even deliberate murder for gain. “A certain knight,” we are told, “had left a hundred marks by will to a certain house, and lay there sick; upon getting well, the monks, that they might not lose the money, plotted his death by poison or suffocation.”⁠[257]

Nor were the nuns much better. Amongst the injunctions to the convent of Appleton, A.D. 1489, is one: “Item, that none of your sisters use the alehouse, [145]nor the waterside, where course of strangers dayly resorte.” And in another case the question was asked: “Item, whether any of the sisters be comenly drunke.” They were accused of avarice, brawling, voluptuousness, and sloth; and one of them, the Prioress of Rumsey, was a notorious drunkard.⁠[258] What the monks and nuns did in and about the convents, the wandering friars performed throughout the length and breadth of the land. They were vowed to poverty, and many of them were bright examples of virtue and holiness, going about preaching and ministering to the poor, healing dissensions, and, as well as they were able, protecting the oppressed. But others accumulated property by the most detestable means—some even by procuring pardon for murderers; they were great liars, fraudulent, luxurious, and debauched. “They knew all the taverns, hostelers, and tapsters in every town, but shunned the beggars.” Their time was often spent in intrigues with women, interference with families, and idle and useless gossip.⁠[259]

But worst of all appear to have been the “clerics” or hired lay writers, who hung about the convents, and were chiefly engaged in copying or multiplying manuscripts. They are described as very low, profligate, disorderly people. The kind of esteem in which they were held is shown by the following lines from a mediæval ballad:—

With this extract we must bid adieu to the drinking [146]practices of “Merrie England in the olden time.” So far we have witnessed the state of affairs whilst the Roman Catholic Church held sway over the land, and in our next chapter we shall see whether there was any improvement under Protestant rule, and bring our inquiry down to the present day.

Before entering upon the consideration of the drinking habits of the English in Protestant times, it will only be fair and impartial to state the plea which has been urged in favour of the mediæval taverns; and we have the less hesitation in so doing, inasmuch as the justification for their existence on the grounds advanced no longer holds good in the present day. The village tavern, it is said, was not what it is to-day—a resort for the idle and dissolute; it was the “public-house,” where men of all ranks met together and enjoyed each other’s society—where, indeed, distinctions between the hall, castle, and the cottage were for the time obliterated. By some writers it is thought that the clergy themselves did not absolutely discountenance taverns for the laity, especially after the “ales” and similar meetings had been removed to the places called “church-houses” from within the precincts of the churches themselves. “When, therefore, the bishops ordered the clergy to expend less time in alehouses,” says one author, “it is not to be inferred that the bishops regarded these places as necessarily vicious and scandalous; the fair inference from the episcopal injunction being that the chiefs of the Church wished to [148]impress upon the subordinate priests that the obligations of the clerical office required them to exercise forbearance with respect to social enjoyments.”⁠[261] That this statement is in the main accurate was shown in our last chapter, and it is confirmed by a reference to the canons and injunctions of the Church. For example: “Canon 30.—A priest should not drink in taverns like laymen.”⁠[262] Again, “But we do not comprise in this prohibition strangers who are travelling, and those who come together in fairs or markets, although they meet in taverns.”⁠[263] And, “They (priests) are forbidden to enter taverns for drinking, unless they are on a journey, or to take part in drinking assemblies,” &c.⁠[264]

As to the statement that various ranks of society met in the tavern for social converse, those who hold that to be the case might have added that the extension of national liberty was in part due to the opportunities which were afforded for discussion in such places of resort. Nay, although we have said that their continued existence can no longer be justified on the old grounds in our time, yet it is impossible to overlook the fact that there are even now exceptional instances where the “public-house” is the only place which affords sufficient accommodation for meetings of any considerable magnitude. That was, no doubt, much more generally the case in the Middle Ages, when there were no assembly-rooms, no public halls, no schoolhouses, nor any other buildings of a like character.

It is a matter of history that at the period of the Reformation the court of England was one of the most dissolute in Europe, and in the reign of Henry VIII. it was held in bad repute even amongst the Germans, drunken as they confess themselves to have been. A quaint story is told, upon what appears to be good authority, how Henry himself managed to make an envoy of the German court, who belonged to one of the orders of temperance, violate his pledge, and how he then assured him that if his master would only visit England, he would not lack boon-companions.⁠[265] Nor was the intoxication confined to men only. It is said that in the time of James I. the revels instituted by the Queen were frequently disgraced by the drunkenness of the court ladies; and one of the guests at an entertainment given by the Earl of Salisbury in honour of the visit of King Christian of Denmark wrote a letter from which the following is an extract:—

But we must conclude in more refined phraseology than that used by the writer ... who were in the hall engaged in operations inconsistent with the healthy and sober condition in which ladies should be at a royal entertainment.⁠[266]

We will, however, not dwell upon the drinking habits of the middle and lower classes prior to the Commonwealth. What change there was in their condition was due to the action of the Puritans, who, both before and during the civil war, presented a marked contrast to the Cavaliers or Royalists. The character and conduct of the two parties may be studied in the writings of historians of the time, as well as in those of modern authors, and notably in the pages of Macaulay and Walter Scott.⁠[267] The Puritans were grave in their demeanour, sober in their habits, modest and plain in their speech and attire. By these characteristics they desired to be known. The Cavaliers swore, drank, affected an air of gallantry towards the female sex, with whom their relations were of the loosest, and in everything [151]they sought to avoid what they called the prudery and hypocrisy of the Roundheads. When the latter obtained the ascendancy, they set about executing the most drastic reforms throughout the land. Maypoles were cut down in various parts of the country, and all the amusements of the period, such as theatrical performances, entertainments on the village green and at fairs, bowls, horseracing, and bearbaiting, were either absolutely forbidden or strongly denounced and discountenanced. But what gave greater dissatisfaction than any other of their proceedings was the suppression of Christmas festivities; and when, in 1644, the Long Parliament gave orders that the 25th December should be observed as a day of prayer and fasting, that act was considered such an infringement of the public liberties, that it was almost universally resisted, and in many places collisions took place between the populace and the local authorities.

These extreme measures of repression on the part of the Puritans led to the result which might be anticipated. They gave courage to those who were anxious for the return of royalty, and reconciled many to its reinstatement who would otherwise have struggled for the maintenance of republican institutions; and when Charles II. was once more safely enthroned, there followed a reaction in morals which has left to that period the unenviable notoriety of being the most corrupt and dissolute in the whole history of our country. Debauchery and drunkenness prevailed in almost every rank of society, but chiefly amongst the higher and middle classes. The King set the example, and history abounds with tales of the debauchery of the court. We are told that when William, Prince of Orange, came [152]over to visit his intended, “one night at a supper given by the Duke of Buckingham, the King made him (the Prince) drink very hard. The heavy Dutchman was naturally averse to it, but being once entered, was the most frolicsome of the company; and now the mind took him to break the windows of the chambers of the maids of honour, and he had got into their apartments had they not been timely rescued. His mistress” (the princess, afterwards Queen Mary), “I suppose,” adds the narrator, “did not like him the worse for such a notable indication of his vigour.”⁠[268] Another well-known story is related of the same monarch. On one occasion, when he was dining with the Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Viner, and the guests as well as his lordship had imbibed more than was consistent with propriety in the presence of their sovereign, the latter intimated to his suite his intention to withdraw; and he had succeeded in making his escape from the banqueting hall, when he was hastily pursued by the Lord Mayor, who caught hold of his robe, exclaiming, “Sir, you shall stay and take t’other bottle.” The airy monarch looked kindly at him over his shoulder, and with a smile and graceful air repeated this line of the old song, “He that is drunk is as great as a king,” and with this compliment to his host, he immediately returned and “took t’other bottle.”

These Lord Mayors’ banquets are deserving of a passing notice. One of them, given in 1663, is described by Pepys. It was served at one o’clock, and a bill of fare was placed with every salt cellar, whilst at the end of each table was a list of “persons proper” [153]there to be seated. Pepys was placed at the merchant-strangers’ table, “where ten good dishes to a mess, with plenty of wine of all sorts.” Napkins and knives were, however, only supplied at the Mayor’s table to him and the Lords of the Privy Council, and Pepys complains bitterly that he and those who were seated with him had no napkins nor change of trenchers, and had to drink out of earthen pitchers. He, however, took his spoon and fork away with him, as was customary in those days with guests invited to entertainments. The dinner, he says, was provided by the Mayor and two sheriffs for the time being, and the whole cost was from £700 to £800. We are not told what wines were drunk, but a list of those which were served at a similar banquet on Lord Mayor’s Day, 1782,⁠[269] may be of interest. It will give some idea of the quantity and character of the drinks consumed at such entertainments:—

From that time to the present there has not been any very material change in the descriptions of the wines which are drunk at Lord Mayors’ feasts, except that the [154]heavier wines have been to some extent displaced by those of a lighter description. Thus, at various banquets which were given between 1860 and 1876, the following descriptions were consumed on Lord Mayor’s Day:—Various kinds of port, sherry, madeira, hock, claret, champagne, and moselle. In other respects great changes have, however, taken place at these feasts. Earthenware drinking vessels are no longer in vogue, “trenchers” are changed, napkins and knives are not wanting, and guests do not (with the knowledge of their host) walk off with their spoons and forks!

But to resume. Hard-drinking was not confined to kings and Lord Mayors, and one of the practices amongst all classes of society which had the effect of stimulating excess, and of which we are not yet completely rid, was the drinking of healths. A French writer who visited England about the close of the seventeenth century, and who described the ludicrous grimaces which accompanied the ceremony, says that “whilst in France the custom had disappeared from polite society, any one in England who drank at table without doing so to the health of some person present would be considered as drinking on the sly, and that it would be regarded as an act of incivility.”⁠[270]

How rapidly the indulgence in intoxicating drink increased from the Commonwealth to the eighteenth century we are able to learn from the poets and moralists of the time, as well as from the graphic pictures of life which have been bequeathed to us by the pencil of Hogarth; but before reverting to the oft-told tale, we have to speak of a satisfactory phase in the drinking [155]customs of the country, which commenced at the epoch under consideration, and which is happily still in steady progress. We mean the introduction into England of those non-alcoholic beverages which we find to have exercised so potent and beneficial an influence upon the morals of German society. Tea was first imported into England from the Netherlands in 1666 by Lords Arundel and Ossory, but it was then only used medicinally, its price (about 60s. per lb.) being for a long time a virtual prohibition against its use as a beverage. Coffee was, however, a much more popular article of consumption. The first coffee-house is said to have been opened in Paris in 1643; and either in 1652 or 1657 (writers differ as to the date) the first was established in London. Coffee was soon served in taverns along with wine, beer, and tobacco, and although it met with opposition from the satirical writers of the day, it was drunk by men of every class, from the labourers and apprentices to the members of the Privy Council, and it interfered considerably with the consumption of alcoholic drinks. There were ere long coffee-houses for all ranks of society, such as the “Grecian” in Threadneedle Street, said to have been the first opened, where noblemen and the committee of the Royal Society met, and many others of more modest pretensions, for the accommodation of merchants, tradesmen, and the labouring classes.

The character of the clubs, too, was changed by the introduction of tea and coffee and chocolate. Those institutions had existed from the reign of Elizabeth, the first having been the “Mermaid” in Friday Street, founded by Sir Walter Raleigh; and the other leading men connected with it were Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, Francis Beaumont, and John Fletcher. Ben Jonson [156]founded a club which met at the “Devil” Tavern between Temple Bar and the Temple Gates, for which he wrote a code of rules in Latin verse called “Leges Conviviales.”⁠[271] The clubs found no favour with the Puritans, who endeavoured to abolish them; whilst in Charles II.’s time the coffee-houses were so inconvenient to royalty, that an attempt was made to suppress them. The latter incident occurred in 1675, when on the 29th December a royal proclamation ordered them to be closed, “because in such houses, and by the meeting of disaffected persons in them, divers false, malicious, and scandalous reports were devised and spread abroad, to the defamation of His Majesty’s Government, and the disturbance of the peace of the realm.” The dissatisfaction caused by this proceeding was, however, so great that the proclamation was soon withdrawn.

With the clubs and coffee-houses some of the greatest English names are associated. At Will’s Coffee-house, in Bow Street, Dryden reigned supreme; at Button’s, in Great Russell Street, Addison was the presiding genius. Addison, by the way, moralist as he was, was addicted to something much stronger than coffee; he entered largely into, if he did not lead, the dissipation of his day. Samuel Johnson, as is well known, was quite an enthusiast in the matter of clubs and taverns. His principal haunt was the “Turk’s Head” in Gerard Street, where the Literary Club met, including, amongst others, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Garrick (who also frequented the Bedford in Covent Garden, along with Foote, Quin, and others), Oliver Goldsmith, Burke, and Sheridan. Johnson also went to the Essex Club in Essex Street, and the King’s Head beefsteak house. Our space will not allow us to [157]enumerate the various clubs of the time, but in order to show what extension had been given to the system in later days, we may add that in 1801 there was a club called “The King of Clubs,” which met at the “Crown and Anchor” in the Strand, and reckoned among its members Lord Holland, the Marquis of Lansdowne, Lord Abinger, Lord Erskine, and Samuel Rogers. Then, at the opposite end of the social scale, there were the “Bird Fanciers,” who met at a pothouse in Rosemary Lane; the “Flat Cap,” where market-women assembled, and “young gentlemen and gallants paid their court to those ladies with burnt brandy and formidable mugs of porter;” the “Thieves,” at the Half-Moon in the Old Bailey; the “Lying Club,” where whoever told the truth between six and ten was fined a gallon of wine; the “Bold Bucks,” who drove the neighbourhood of St. Mary-le-Strand crazy with bands of music during the performance of divine service, and then sat down to feast on “Holy Ghost Pie;” and the “Sword Clubs,” whose members took possession of the town after supper, “holding their swords against every man, whilst every man’s sword was held against them.”⁠[272]

As this notice of the clubs of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries may possibly find its way to posterity, it is but just to add regarding those of the present day that they are amongst the noblest institutions of our country. This is certainly not the place to expatiate upon their services to the state, and it must suffice to say that they are the centres of political and intellectual activity. All that we have to note concerning them in relation to our subject is, that they are certainly not conducted [158]on teetotal principles. In most of them the wines are selected by a committee of connoisseurs, and one, in which the “feast of reason and the flow of soul” are supposed to predominate, manages to expend £2000 annually in wines and spirits. A well-known French writer has been at the trouble to ascertain what quantity of wine is usually consumed at our metropolitan clubs, and he sets it down at a pint per diem for each member.⁠[273]

The character of the clubs and taverns in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries demonstrates pretty plainly what was the condition of society at the time; and it could hardly have been worse than it was. Drunkenness and debauchery, accompanied by lawlessness and violence, marked the age. People got drunk at private tables, and quarrelled and fought duels afterwards. Suppers were followed by sallies into the streets and attacks upon the citizens, which often resulted in murder and mutilations, and the newspapers of the last century contain stories of license and depravity which it is difficult to believe even after reading our own police reports or the columns filled with casualties and crimes. For whilst to-day such matters are related of the lower orders, then they characterised the so-called respectable classes of society.⁠[274] As to the poorer classes, they had fallen a prey to a new demon of intoxication—gin—which, along with other spirituous liquors, was fast taking the place of less inebriating beverages, such as ale, porter, and cider.

Although the period of the discovery of distillation [159]is unknown, it is believed to have been not later than about the seventh century of our era. At that time it was described by Geber, supposed to have been an Arab; but his nationality and the precise time at which he wrote, are also enveloped in doubt.⁠[275] The same uncertainty applies to the introduction or discovery of distillation in England. Friar Bacon, who lived in the thirteenth century, is believed to have been acquainted with the process, and “spirits of wine” were certainly known to Raymond Tully, who wrote a book called “Testamentum Novissimum” on the preparation of alcohol in the same century.⁠[276] The perfect chemical separation of alcohol was, however, not effected until the following century (about 1300), by Arnauld de Villeneuve, a famous physician residing in Montpellier, and its analysis was first performed by Th. de la Saussure.⁠[277] In 1430 arrack was first introduced into England from Genoa,⁠[278] and from that time forward the importation and home manufacture of spirituous liquors continued to increase.

In order that the reader may form some idea of the effect which the substitution of spirituous liquors for other intoxicating beverages would have upon the drinking habits of the nation, we append the following tabular statement of the relative proportions of alcohol contained in some of the chief European drinks of present and past times:⁠[279]—

Thus it will be seen that a man might drink without any greater effect ten times as much of the old as he could of the new beverages, and when we come to inquire how much of these were consumed, we shall have no difficulty in understanding what a terrible influence they exercised upon the morals of the age.

Beverage.	Percentage of alcohol.
German beer,	From	1.9	to	4.62
Cider,	”	5.4	”	7.4
Ale and porter,	”	5.4	”	8.5
Very strong ale,	”	10.5	”	12.4
Moselle and Rhine wines,	”	7.5	”	9.5
Claret,	”	8.0	”	9.0
Champagne,	”	11.5	”	14.1
Sherry,	”	15.4	”	16.0
Port,	”	15.0	”	20.7
Madeira,	”	19.0	”	19.8
Marsala,	”	19.9	”	20.0
Gin (London),	”	31.73		...
Geneva spirit,	”	49.4		...
Brandy,	”	50.4	”	53.6
Whisky,	”	59.2	”	59.4
Rum,	”	72.7	”	77.1

In the year 1694, with an estimated population of about 5,800,000 souls, the quantity of British spirits upon which duty was charged in England was, according to one author, 810,096 gallons;⁠[280] according to another, 754,300 gallons.⁠[281] (The discrepancy is immaterial for our purpose.) But forty-two years later—in 1736, the annus mirabilis in the history of drink—although the population [161]had only increased to 6,200,000, the consumption of spirits had risen to 6,116,473 gallons, or nearly a gallon per head of the inhabitants.

The reason why we have called 1736 the annus mirabilis in the history of drink is because it was on the 29th September of that year that the “Gin Act” came into operation, and the passing of that Act was considered a necessity consequent upon the awful prevalence of drunkenness in all classes of society.

How great was the debauchery of the age may be seen, not alone from the statistics here given, but it may be read in the pages of contemporary history. Those who have perused accounts of the parliamentary debates, or the published notices and correspondence of the time, know into what a deplorable condition the lower and middle classes were fallen, and how openly they were tempted to still lower depths of depravity. That announcements were hung out before the gin-shops informing passers-by that they could get drunk for a penny, and dead drunk for twopence, and that when they were in the desired state, clean straw would be gratuitously provided for them in convenient cellars, has become a matter of history.⁠[282] So also the fact that the inducements to drink which were so generously offered were as readily accepted, and the state of the city of London became so dangerous and disgraceful, that at length the Grand Jury of Middlesex made a presentment asking the Legislature for repressive measures. It was then that Sir Joseph Jekyll introduced and carried through Parliament the famous “Gin Act,” of which the following is a copy:—

This Act remained nominally in operation for seven years, the first result being an apparent falling off in the consumption of spirits to the extent of nearly 2,000,000 gallons; for whilst, as already stated, the quantity on which duty was paid in the year 1736 was 6,116,473 gallons, that in 1737 was 4,250,399 gallons. The consumption, however, soon rose again; and when, in the year 1743, the “Gin Act” was repealed, it had risen to 8,203,430 gallons.

In the meantime the remedy had proved worse than [163]the disease. Gin riots; false information given by men who made it their profession; violence towards, and even the murder of, such informers; the illicit distillation and sale of spirits under various names all over the country;—these were the fruits of this extreme legislation, and long before the Act was repealed it had ceased to be operative. When its repeal (which was opposed by the bishops) was being discussed in the House of peers, one noble lord stated that for several years the Act had been a dead letter, and that the pathways of London were obstructed by men who were openly selling spirits to the populace, and by those who had drunk them until they were unable to move. But there is an important circumstance in connection with this experiment which is well worthy of being noticed. Whilst the sudden and extreme measure had no permanent effect upon the moral disease which it was intended to cure, but called into action evils which had not previously existed, yet impediments of a less violent and conspicuous character, which were unintentionally thrown in the way of excessive drinking at a subsequent period, seem to have proved more efficacious. For we find that when the duty was afterwards raised from 3d. to 1s. per gallon, the consumption steadily diminished, until, in 1758, it had fallen to 1,849,370 gallons, and it continued to stand at 2,000,000 gallons from 1762 to 1780, after the duty had been still further raised to 2s. 6d. per gallon.⁠[283]

For a long time after the repeal of the “Gin Act,” there is very little improvement to be noticed in the drinking habits of the English people. Moralists, [164]poets, and some of the clergy, were vigorous in their denunciations of the national vice, which, then more them at any other period, seems to have been a fruitful source of crime and villainy. Men of good family and station, who had ruined themselves with drinking and gambling, did not, as to-day, seek relief in the insolvency court or the colonies, but, armed with pistol and blunderbuss, they endeavoured to retrieve their broken fortunes on the highway. The metropolis was the scene of nightly robberies, whilst the neighbouring roads and commons were beset with footpads and mounted highwaymen, so that, as a contemporary (Bishop Benson) wrote, there was “not only no safety of living in this town, but scarcely any in the country now, robbery and murther are grown so frequent. Our people are now become, what they never before were, cruel and inhuman. Those accursed spirituous liquors, which, to the shame of our Government, are so easily to be had, and in such quantities drunk, have changed the very nature of our people; and they will, if continued to be drunk, destroy the very race of people themselves.”⁠[284]

That this was no exaggerated picture of society at that time we have ample testimony in the literature extending over a great part of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. One of the chief aims of the essayists in such papers as the “Spectator” was “to recover society out of that desperate state of vice and folly into which the age had fallen;” and Addison thus describes the typical drunkard of his time:—

If our readers will kindly substitute “bitter” for “october,” “sherry” for “port,” and, leaving all the other drinks as they stand, will throw in a few dozen cases of champagne, and brandy and soda ad libitum, we shall have no hesitation in echoing Addison’s concluding sentence, inasmuch as it will obviate the necessity for any further reference to the habits of intemperance which obtain amongst a large circle of fast young gentlemen of our own time!

Of the taverns we have already spoken, and without adopting to the fullest extent the statement which has been made by various historians, that even noble ladies were in the habit of largely patronising such places, we need not hesitate to believe that they were more extensively used by the upper classes than they are at present. But they were then, as now, the ruin of those who visited them:—

Nor was Scotland a whit better. Here is a picture of the High Street of Edinburgh during the last century:—

Of Ireland we can only add, that from an early period both clergy and laity drank inordinately. They with ourselves began to imbibe spirits, we are told, whilst some other nations were still content with less potent liquors:—

Of the Irish clergy in the twelfth century we have already spoken, and Archbishop Plunkett says of them in his day:⁠[289]—

Other writers have confirmed this account of the Irish clergy;⁠[290] and as to the laity, their lavish hospitality, whilst it did honour to their hearts, was the cause of great improvidence and self-indulgence. “Nine gentlemen in ten in Ireland,” wrote Chesterfield, “are impoverished by the great quantity of claret which, from mistaken notions of hospitality, they think it necessary to be drunk in their houses.” Another writer of the eighteenth century says, “Would not a Frenchman give a shrug at finding in every little inn Bordeaux claret and Nantz brandy, though in all likelihood not a morsel of Irish bread.”⁠[291]

That there followed in the train of drunkenness all the evils and diseases of which it is still the fruitful source, it may readily be conceived. This has been shown by William Hogarth in his famous pictures of life in his day,⁠[292] and there is a poem of John Gay, written about the same time, which leaves no doubt upon the subject.

Death, sitting on his throne, declares his intention to name his prime minister, and each disorder puts forth his claim to the office. Fever, gout, an unnameable disease, consumption, plague:—

Much more might be written concerning the drinking habits of our countrymen in post-Reformation times; but if we mistake not, the reader will be better pleased that we should now draw this chapter to its close. For the changes which took place during the first half of this century may be briefly summed up by saying, that there was a gradual improvement amongst the upper and middle classes. Leaving the curious reader, therefore, to study the pictures of the three-bottle squire, and his friend the fox-hunting parson, by the light of the literature of this century, aided, it may be, by the memory of those who are still alive to relate their own experiences, we shall pass on to the consideration of drink as we find it to-day, and of those varied efforts which are being made for the purpose of diminishing the evils of intemperance.

England, or perhaps we should rather say Great Britain, to-day occupies a very peculiar and not a very enviable position in the history of drink. In that, as in many other respects, our island has formed a kind of halting station in the traffic between the Eastern and the Western world. Some writers attribute the worst phases of drunkenness to our wars in the Netherlands,⁠[294] others to our Anglo-Saxon descent, and to our intercourse with the mediæval Germans; and the last view is supported by the philological resemblance between their drinking terms and ours, and perhaps also by the ordinary colloquial expressions to which reference was made when we treated of the history of drink in Germany. No doubt the invasions of such barbarians as the Danish rovers on the one hand, and the return of our own soldiery from expeditions into the Netherlands, Germany, and France on the other, have had much to do with the formation and development of our national vice. Passing westward, the Americans of to-day will tell us, in like manner, that most of their drinking is [170]performed by Irish, German, and English emigrants and settlers; and that view is certainly borne out by the opinions of impartial English writers on America. But Great Britain ought not to be held responsible for the whole sum of her intemperance. Our seaports, especially those on the west coast, are made the receptacles of what may be called the concentrated vice of the world. In Liverpool, Glasgow, and Bristol there is a constant influx of men whose chief employment is drinking;—seamen of all nations landing with a keen thirst and full purses; improvident Irish labourers, who, after being accustomed to earn very low wages at home, suddenly find themselves possessed of more than is necessary to provide for their daily wants. In addition to these, there is the residuum of the currents which are constantly flowing backwards and forwards between the eastern and the western hemispheres. Where there is a demand for drink, the supply naturally follows, and the supply in this case is undoubtedly accompanied by infamies inexpressible, as any one may witness for himself who wanders along the docks, or visits the haunts of the vicious classes in the great seaports which have been named, or, indeed, in any considerable seaport in Great Britain.

It is to this class of society chiefly that England owes her unenviable reputation for drunkenness amongst the nations of the world, but before dealing with this lowest phase of the subject, it will be instructive to cast a glance over the whole of our society in the present day.

No English gentleman now gets drunk; that is not saying much, perhaps; and however it may hurt the susceptibilities of some of our readers in the middle and upper classes, we feel bound to add, that the term “gentleman” [171]is, in this respect, equally applicable to every rank of society, to the humblest artisan as well as to the peer of the realm. There is one regrettable distinction, however, and it is this: In the middle and upper classes there are naturally not so many drunkards, nor are they so obtrusive, as those in the lower classes. In the former, therefore, sober people do not feel themselves identified with the sots who disgrace their order, whilst among the poor, many who are really better deserving of the title of “gentleman” than some of those who are constantly lecturing them upon sobriety, have to support a large share of the obloquy which attaches to the drunken and disorderly members of their class.

In common with every other rank of society except the “residuum,” the English aristocracy have very much improved in their drinking habits, especially during the last few years. The exercise of field-sports, and the opportunities they offered for indulgence, were formerly the occasions of great intemperance in the higher walks of life; and to be “as drunk as a lord” is an epithet which is not yet forgotten. Their comparatively small numbers, the position of responsibility which they occupy, and above all, the example of a virtuous court, or perhaps it would be more strictly accurate to say, of a punctilious sovereign, these circumstances have completely changed the habits of the aristocracy. No doubt there are still many men amongst them who are a disgrace to their rank and station, but on the whole they compare favourably with any class below them. Making all due allowance for the courtesy necessitated by the position in which he was placed, we should say that Sir William Gull was not far wrong when he stated to the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance: “I think it is quite [172]a mistake if the public, or any class of the public, should suppose that where people have the means they are intemperate. It is quite the contrary. I think, if I had to look for a temperate person, I should look in the upper classes.”⁠[295] It would indeed be a sad disgrace to the “upper classes” if it were otherwise. As in the upper middle classes, there is now very little after-dinner drinking amongst the aristocracy; the younger members are not given to excess to any greater extent than those of the class below them, although the practice, prejudicial alike to health and morals, of “nipping” at clubs is said to be on the increase; and finally, the cases of ladies (if the term can be so applied) who drink inordinately are exceptions to the general rule. And yet it is the opinion of those who are best able to judge, that for health there is still far too much alcohol drunk even by the aristocracy; but probably that remark applies equally to every other rank of society.

In the middle classes there has been a very great improvement of late years. There is still far too much drinking, but comparatively little drunkenness, excepting among fast young men. There are no more three-bottle men, for in nearly all cultivated circles the gentlemen rise from the table with the ladies, and there are very few men of good position in society who would care to boast that they had drunk a couple of bottles of wine at a sitting. Spirits, which are still consumed by the middle classes more largely in Scotland and Ireland than in England, are rarely drunk to excess by gentlemen. In our clubs and restaurants claret and hock are daily coming more into use; and one of the most satisfactory evidences of the changed drinking habits in this country is the [173]increasing consumption of imported German and Scandinavian beer.

If it be true that an English gentleman never gets drunk, not gallantry alone but the facts of the case warrant our saying further that no English lady takes more intoxicating drink than is becoming. Unfortunately our municipal and charitable institutions are made the excuse for entertainments at which old drinking customs are upheld far more than is desirable, and we should not be within the strict limits of accuracy if we were to say that we have never seen a lady at a public table whose conversation had been stimulated by wine more freely than was consistent with the usages of polite society. But these are, after all, exceptions, and we think our readers may take it for granted that the lady who thus forgets herself, or one who sends to her grocer’s for wine or spirits, has gone far to relinquish her claim to the title.⁠[296]

Amongst the lower middle classes—as, for example, the smaller tradesmen—there is still much intemperance; but even there, self-respect and public opinion prevent anything like its obtrusion upon the notice of the world. In connection with political action drunkenness is still rife, but secret voting and the abolition of public nominations have to some extent mitigated the evil. There was a time, and that not very far back, when in many English towns the week preceding and that following a parliamentary election was one protracted [174]orgie of the most debasing kind. This part of the subject we shall, however, treat at greater length hereafter. Perhaps the distribution of actual drunkenness through the various ranks of society is pretty fairly illustrated by some of our police records. The following, for example, is a statement condensed and classified from the table of apprehensions for drunkenness as they appear in the report of the Chief Constable of Liverpool for the year 1877:—

Thus it will be seen that, as nearly as possible, two-thirds of the disorderly drunkenness in the town (for there were the “drunk and incapables” besides) which ranks second upon the black list (Glasgow being usually considered the first) is caused by dock-labourers and sailors, precisely the classes to whom we said we are indebted for our unenviable reputation as a drunken people! And if the reader turns to the female statistics for the same year, he will be pained to find that of [175]4842 women who were apprehended under the same conditions, 421 are set down as hawkers, which means chiefly basket-women; 1364 as prostitutes; and 2565 (being nearly all the remainder) as of “no trade.” What that means we leave the reader to imagine. Of course this statement embraces the residuum of every class; but, in the author’s opinion, it presents a fair summary of the relative amount of drunkenness in the different grades of the middle and lower classes. It has been stated by some persons who have large opportunities of judging, that drunkenness is on the increase in England; whilst others as distinctly declare the reverse. Those who wish to review these opposite expressions of opinion should read the Report of the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance; but, in order to show that the evidence there given cannot be considered at all conclusive on either side, we need only take that of two witnesses. The Chief Constable of Liverpool (Major Greig) holds the opinion that, “if anything, he should say that intemperance is increasing” in that town;⁠[297] but, on the other hand, the Rev. James Nugent, the “Father Matthew” of Liverpool, who has been twenty-nine years a priest there, and is now the Roman Catholic chaplain of the borough gaol, says that “certainly there is less drunkenness in Liverpool” than there was formerly;⁠[298] and the same uncertainty on the subject seems to prevail generally throughout the country.

Now let us inquire on what grounds the opinion obtains that drunkenness is on the increase, and we shall find that they are twofold. The first is the increasing consumption of spirits per head of the population; [176]the second, the police statistics. The first fact may be admitted, although there cannot at present be any accurate calculation on the subject. As to the police statistics, we shall show that they are quite misleading. In reading the evidence given before Committees of the Houses of Parliament, we are often far more accurately informed by the questions of the members of the Committee than by the replies which are given to them. For the questioners are usually statesmen of high intelligence and large experience, who have taken a more extended survey of the subject than the witnesses who have been called up from various parts of the country. These are generally advocates of some particular theory or system, and their information, which is usually of a local nature, is often distorted by the medium through which it passes, or vitiated by the method in which it is communicated.

Thus, in reading over the questions put by Lord Aberdare, one of the Lords’ Committee referred to, whose sanitary legislation, especially connected with the over-crowding of dwellings in 1866, and his Licensing Act (1872), render him peculiarly fitted to form an accurate estimate of the condition of the working classes, we are led to infer that his views on the subject under consideration are as follows:⁠[299]—First, that the increased consumption of intoxicating drinks amongst the working classes is due to their greater power of expenditure, much in the same sense as the increasing consumption of tea, coffee, meat, &c., and [177]that growing intemperance is not a necessary corollary of the increased consumption; and, secondly, that a higher standard of feeling is growing up amongst working men generally, who look upon drunkenness with greater disfavour than they did formerly.⁠[300] If these be the views of Lord Aberdare, the author cordially endorses them, and he will endeavour, as concisely as possible, to prove their accuracy. But it must first be shown clearly that, either from their dubious nature or from their partial application, statistics are usually very misleading when they are used as a factor in estimating this part of the question.

Let us consider, for example, the police statistics which are so often employed to gauge the amount of drunkenness in our large towns; and it may be remarked that the figures and information here quoted have been supplied to the author by the Chief Constables in the respective places, or they are printed in annual or special reports. In the statistics of the Metropolitan Police⁠[301] we find the following remarkable circumstances:—

First, it appears there was a falling off in the arrests to the extent of over 10,000 between the years 1833 and 1834; and then a gradual diminution from nearly 30 per mille in 1833 to 7.6 per mille in 1876. Surely these figures would indicate not an increase but a remarkable diminution of drunkenness. But, on inquiry as to the cause of the sudden decrease, the author received the following information:—“In 1831, ’32, and ’33, three-fourths of the persons arrested, or rather taken care of, by the police were discharged by the superintendents without being taken before a magistrate. This practice was discontinued by the Metropolitan Police in 1834, and the arrests decreased by 10,000.”

In 1840 the arrests had, however, fallen to about 8 per mille, and from that time to the present they have fluctuated between that figure and about 5 per mille; consequently, whilst it would be very unsafe, after the above explanation, to base any estimate upon the figures, yet, if they mean anything at all, there must have been a diminution of drunkenness in one of our most important centres of civilisation.⁠[302]

Here, at first sight, there would appear to be a slight increase of drunkenness; but if the reader could see the printed books of instructions given to the police for the last thirty or thirty-five years, he would find that a very much more stringent system of dealing with drunkards has been gradually established in Liverpool during that period. Unfortunately the table⁠[303] does not go back farther than 1857; but a comparison of the police instructions in the years 1845, 1867, and 1878⁠[304] reveals the fact that whilst formerly the solicitude of the authorities seems to have been on behalf of the drunkards as against the police (in fact, drunkards were “taken care of,” as in London), now the former meets with the consideration which he deserves, and instead of being “passed on” to his home, he is taken before a magistrate and fined. Here again, therefore, the statistics favour the view that drunkenness has diminished rather than that it has increased. But this is mere guess-work. What it does prove, however, is, that the vice which was formerly regarded as a pardonable failing has gradually become a petty criminal offence. And finally, in Birmingham, we have a very flattering picture, for—

But on inquiry, the author was informed by the Chief Constable (Major Bond) that “in September last year (1877) I put in force the first paragraph of section 12 of Act 1872, generally known as the ‘quiet drunkard,’ and summoned in a short time 320 persons for being drunk in our public streets; but I was eventually ordered by the Town Council not to carry out the provisions of that section.” This fact was, we believe, published at the time in the Birmingham papers; and without expressing any opinion upon the policy of arresting or not arresting drunken people at any particular stage of intoxication, we hope we have sufficiently proved that the value and significance of the statistics are absolutely nothing, unless all the concomitant circumstances in each case, extending over a long series of years, are regarded at the same time. The number of persons arrested or proceeded against depends largely upon the jurisdiction and mode of dealing with drunkards by the police, and upon the view taken by the inhabitants or the magistrates of what really constitutes a drunkard. In some places a man is allowed to go his way; in another, he is taken up and “booked;” and the smallest change in the mode of proceeding makes an incalculable difference in the published statistics of drunkenness. And finally, these statistics of apprehensions are misleading in another respect. It must not be supposed that because in Liverpool, for example, apparently three per cent. of the population were arrested last year for drunkenness, therefore that proportion are in the habit of getting drunk. The same men and women are brought before the magistrates over and over again, and their arrest is recorded each time; so that the actual number of individuals [181]apprehended annually is not known, or at least not published. Once more, then, the statistics of apprehensions serve only to convey some vague idea of the general condition of the lowest residuum; and although the ignorance and depravity of the class affected really render them all the more dangerous to society, it is quite fallacious to employ the records of our police courts to base an estimate of the increase or diminution of drunkenness throughout the whole community. We have here gone quite far enough in employing them to convey some general idea of the condition of the various ranks of society.

That the annual consumption of spirits per head of the population may be a somewhat better guide to the condition of the people, we have little doubt, though there is no proof that it is so; and even a nominal prohibition of the manufacture and sale may sometimes have little effect in checking drunkenness, as we shall see hereafter. Still it is safe to affirm that the more easily drink is obtainable, whether from its cheapness or from the multiplication of drinking shops, the more liability there is to excess on the part of all sections of the community. This is, however, a mere generalisation. For example, when the “Gin Act” was passed, it is true the consumption fell off apparently two millions of gallons, but twenty-two years afterwards, long after the Act was repealed, it had first risen and then fallen much lower; that is to say, in 1737 it stood at 4,250,399; in 1743, after the repeal of the Act, at 8,203,430, and during the interim the duty was threepence per gallon; but in 1759, when the duty was raised to 2s. 3d., it was only 1,819,134 gallons. Again, if the reader will consult the interesting table compiled by the Rev. D. Burns [182]already referred to,⁠[305] he will find that, with slight fluctuations, there has been a steady increase in the consumption of spirits in England, in proportion to the population, from 1684, when the duty was twopence per gallon, to 1873, when it was 10s.; and that increase still continues. In Scotland, whilst in 1853 the duties were 3s. 8d. and 4s. 8d. per gallon, the consumption of spirits was 6,534,648 gallons; whilst in 1873, with the duty raised to 10s., and an increase of about 600,000 inhabitants, it was only a little more, namely, 6,832,487 gallons. This really denotes increased sobriety, due, no doubt, partly to repressive measures, and partly to the rapid spread of education.

Still great caution is necessary in the use of these statistics. Mr. Burns tells us in his paper referred to,⁠[306] that Mr. Gladstone’s legislation in 1860, which reduced the duty on light French wines, had failed as a measure of temperance, inasmuch as it had stimulated the consumption of strong Spanish and Portuguese wines, and in proof he cites the customs’ returns of 1858 to 1860 inclusive, and then those of 1863 to 1865 inclusive, showing that the importation of claret had not prevented that of the strong Spanish and Portuguese wines from rising rapidly from an annual average of 6,600,000 gallons to one of 11,270,000 gallons. Feeling certain that Mr. Burns had formed an erroneous estimate of the effect produced by Mr. Gladstone’s fiscal legislation, the author procured from him further statistics, and this is really how the matter stands:—Mr. Gladstone’s legislation took place, as already stated, in 1860. Beginning with the year 1859, the wine imported from [183]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.

We have no hesitation in repeating that it is to the increased consumption of these light wines the improved drinking habits of the middle classes are largely to be attributed. And now we must bid adieu to statistics, which are, as Abbé Moigno once remarked, very eloquent, but which, as we have sought to show, are often very misleading, and although in perfect good faith, are frequently much misapplied.

The proof that the great mass of the community is becoming more sober, and that the working classes are more sensitive than formerly on the question of drunkenness, is easily obtained, and the facts are quite apparent to any one who has moved about amongst, and associated with them for the last twenty years, as the author has done. Year by year the unions and societies of working men are deserting the public-house and its dangerous attractions in greater numbers, and are holding their meetings in schoolrooms and other places where intoxicating drink is not procurable. And round about the practice of meeting in such places there clustered a variety of old trade customs, the effect of which was to encourage, if not actually to necessitate, intemperance on the part of working men. Until the year 1872, the boiler-makers, a large and influential body of artisans, were allowed threepence each from the society’s funds to be spent at the public-house at which the branch [184]held its meetings; but now, wherever the meetings may be held, intoxicating drink is forbidden. Many of the branches meet, as the author is told by Mr. Knight, the general secretary, in schoolrooms, halls, and private houses; and he adds, “I believe very many more would hold their meetings away from the public-house could they get convenient accommodation sufficiently near.”

Another agency which is influencing the habits of the working classes is the introduction of machinery in place of manual labour. A very marked illustration of this exists in the case of the bakers. “Thirty years ago,” says the secretary of the Liverpool Bakers’ Union, Mr. Ritchie, in a letter to the author, “a branch of our trade, the ship-bread bakers, were very much given to excess in drinking, through having to work in a very hot atmosphere, and by double sets of men, night and day; but that is altered now by the introduction of machinery. Any man who becomes a confirmed drunkard is now compelled, owing to greater strictness in the matter of sobriety, to leave his trade, and take work at the corn warehouses or docks. The branch,” he adds, “to which I belong, numbering over two hundred members, have not held our meetings in a public-house for the last five years; and now we have bought a house for our own accommodation, and to let off to other societies. We could not have done that if the old habits had continued.” This writer attributes much of the drunkenness that does undoubtedly exist amongst the working classes to the encouragement which is given to it by the construction and management of public-houses, a view in which the author entirely concurs; for, as at present constructed, our public-houses and wine-rooms give facility for private and secret intemperance.

In several of the trades foremen were formerly lessees of public-houses, and, as the secretary of the ropemakers, Mr. Pritchard, writes, “drinking men had the preference, but nothing of the sort exists now.” Of course his remark refers to the ropemakers only, but no doubt it is applicable to other trades. The practice, however, on the part of stevedores and warehousemen of keeping public-houses, and of giving a preference to “drinking men,” prevails much too largely, and it is one that might be greatly mitigated by employers, many of whom content themselves with denouncing the drinking habits of their labourers, whilst their own servants are perhaps accumulating a small fortune by the sale of drink and favouring the intemperate amongst the labourers. A still more pernicious custom than any of those named existed in bygone years, and that was the necessity on the part of an artisan to “pay his footing” on entering a new situation. “This custom,” says the secretary of the millers, Mr. J. Clarke, “is now totally done away with amongst society’s men, and I am glad to say that the drinking habits amongst the millers have greatly diminished in the last twenty years of my own experience.” Amongst the iron-moulders the case was much worse. The secretary of the union, Mr. Owen, writes, that besides the fines or “footings” paid by the men on entering a new shop, the apprentices also were mulcted. When a lad was bound, he had to pay the “shop” 10s.; when out of his time, 20s.; and when he got married, 10s. All these fines were spent in drink, and, says Mr. Owen, “the whole shop’s crew often went on the spree for days together, ending in their discharge from the firm.” All these things are now forbidden, and any one asking for footings or money in any shape [186]is liable to a fine of 2s. 6d., the same fine being inflicted by the union upon any man who is known to have complied with the request. But the author has himself had excellent means of forming an opinion concerning the changed habits of the working classes; for, some years since, in conjunction with several friends, he helped to establish a trades hall in Liverpool, to which a number of the unions at once removed from public-houses in different parts of the town, and there now meet in that institution the following trades:—The printers, the coopers, the painters, the shipwrights, the plumbers, the farriers, the upholsterers, and several minor friendly societies, who maintain the establishment at an aggregate expenditure of about £160 per annum, which they subscribe amongst themselves. It is hardly necessary to say that the removal from the public-house to such an institution has exercised a very beneficial influence upon the drinking habits of those trades. The “United Trades Council,” which embraces representatives of every important trade in the town, also meets there, whereas, within the author’s recollection its meetings were held in a little pothouse called the “Tam o’ Shanter,” and the change has added not a little to the wisdom and moderation of its counsels, and the weight and influence of its decisions. Mr. Alexander Clark, the secretary of the council, in whose opinion on the subject the author places great reliance, assures him that during the last twenty years he has observed a marked improvement in the drinking habits of most of the trades. Another circumstance which shows the desire for improvement of the respectable working classes is, that they are all (not only the teetotallers) anxious to see the facilities for obtaining drink curtailed. [187]In the year 1872, a committee of gentlemen, with whom the author co-operated, invited the opinion of the skilled artisans of Liverpool on the question of the hours which should be allowed for the sale of drink, and the result was as follows:⁠[307]—

Returns were made freely, and without influence being in any way exercised upon them, by 8096 men.

And a canvass, which was subsequently made by the temperance organisations, showed that an immense majority of the whole community favoured the total closing of public-houses on Sunday. This, it must be remembered, was in a town which has the reputation, and justly so, of being one of the most drink-ridden in the whole country! What refers to the working classes of Liverpool may, however, be safely said concerning those of other large towns.

It is still too early to express a decided opinion upon the changes which are taking place in the drinking habits of our agricultural labourers. In a letter to the author, their leader, Mr. Joseph Arch, says that “having had the opportunity of making inquiries respecting the increase of drunkenness in rural villages consequent upon the advance of wages,” the answer he has received [188]from nine out of every ten has been that there is less intemperance and less disturbance, and many publicans, he says, have complained to him that, although some of the branches of the Agricultural Labourers’ Union meet at their houses, the men spend less money now than they did formerly. Mr. Arch adds, that the reason of their meeting in public-houses at all is because the clergy deny them the use of the village schoolrooms!

When the franchise is given to those men, who are as well entitled to it as one half, at least, of those who possess it already, all this will be changed. There will be as great anxiety to conciliate the “voters,” as there is now on the part of many of the less enlightened clergy and squirearchy to suppress the combinations formed for the purpose of ameliorating their condition.⁠[308]

It may be objected, however, that these opinions concerning the improvement in the drinking habits of the working classes, and the facts in connection with them, have been supplied to the author by persons whose interests and inclinations would naturally prompt them to present the best side of the picture for publication. No doubt it has been so; but if the reader will permit the author to take him into his confidence, he may mention [189]that the same thing applies equally to the accounts which have been given to him by experienced men in every rank of society, from the highest to the lowest, each believing his own class to be the most sober. If there has been any unfriendly criticism of their own order, it has been amongst those who can unfortunately not close their eyes to the effects which drink is producing in their midst. For although a review of the whole question leads to the conclusion that national drunkenness is diminishing, it would be useless to conceal the fact that there are periods when the great increase in the consumption of intoxicating drinks, and especially of spirits, points to a corresponding increase in intemperance. The general prosperity of the trading community, and the rise of wages which accompanied that prosperity, from about the years 1871 to 1875, swelled the figures that represent the national thirst very considerably. But it would be very unfair to say that there was a proportionate increase of drunkenness amongst the working classes only. Gentlemen laid down wine who had not laid down wine before, and the consumption of all kinds of alcoholic drinks increased in every class of society. So far as the indulgence in drink can be blameless, much of that which was the concomitant of increasing wealth was of an innocent character. Let us not, however, forget the lesson of Rome in her latter days. The present commercial depression, with its diminution of profits and wages, may not be without its advantages, and may prove a blessing to the nation if it teaches all classes to husband their resources, and not to “eat and drink, for to-morrow we must die.” Let us remember that there [190]are others to come after us, whom we would desire to see better and more temperate than ourselves. This brings us to a phase of the subject which the author would gladly have passed over without any further comment, namely, the character of gin-palaces; for however people may otherwise differ concerning the cause of drunkenness, there can be but one opinion of the baneful influence which these places exercise upon the habits and morals of the community. They were, perhaps, never more fairly, and certainly not more graphically, described than by a foreigner who visited England about sixteen years ago,⁠[309] and since that period their meretricious adornments, and therewith their dangerous character, have been very much augmented. The boarded window, with its glowing descriptions of the liquid treasures (often the vilest compounds of disease and death) which are to be obtained within, whilst it conceals the scenes of debauchery which it would not be prudent to expose to the light of day, renders drinking as secret as possible. And at night the showy glass-barrels and the brilliant chandeliers, with their bright jets of gas lighting up the neighbourhood, are fit emblems of the devouring flame which, sooner or later, seizes and consumes the silly, fluttering moths that circulate about them, often vainly endeavouring to resist their attractive influences.

But why dwell upon the subject? Hundreds of books and pamphlets and thousands of newspaper articles have been published with the view to expose and counteract the evils of those “palaces,” in which [191]are held the saturnalia of modern England. All the eloquence of the first orators of the age has been levelled at these abominations, and yet our magistrates, who are charged with the responsibility of limiting their number to meet “the wants of their neighbourhood,” allow so many of them to exist that, in one street in a large northern town, a missionary says that he “counted seven public-houses out of eleven consecutive tenements, to say nothing of two or three on the opposite side of the street!” Over and over again they have been denounced as the fruitful sources of every evil—of drunkenness, of wretched poverty and destitution, of the worst forms of insanity, of prostitution, robbery, rape, infanticide, manslaughter, and deliberate murder.⁠[310] And yet, what is the position which their proprietors occupy [192]in the state? They are promoted to the highest offices in our municipalities, and honours are heaped upon them which should be reserved only for those who render eminent services to the community. They are courted as political supporters; and even those who are reluctant to avail themselves of their aid uphold their influence because they dread their enmity. Their trade interests are protected with greater solicitude than those of any branch of respectable industry, because they are the source of great revenue to the national exchequer. The attempt made by one party in the state to restrict their dangerous traffic within such reasonable bounds as to prevent breaches of the law and ensure order and decency in our public streets at night, has secured for them the approving smile of the opposite political party, who now reign with their aid, and who will find it difficult to sever the odious alliance when the national conscience is once more awakened to its duties and responsibilities on the great question of drunkenness.

And as to their social influence, why it is impossible nowadays to sit at the table of a friend or relative without committing one’s self by a passing remark upon the drink traffic, and thus giving unpardonable offence to a publican, or a publican’s brother, or his sister, or some one of his intimate friends who may happen to be present!

And yet, notwithstanding the deplorable condition of the lowest ranks of our population, and the great social and political influence of those who are enriching themselves at their expense, the author does not hesitate to repeat his conviction that, whilst in some of the neighbouring countries intemperance is said to be increasing, [193]it is in England descending lower and lower in the scale of society. And there is every reason to hope that the spread of education and the means which are being employed to counteract the evil are already operating to check its growth, and that they will before long raise the moral and social status of our country to a level with her commercial, intellectual, and political standing amongst the nations.

It was not our object, in entering upon this inquiry, to deal with the drinking habits of every nation, nor even of every race of mankind, but rather to select those countries and peoples whose history presented features of special interest bearing upon our subject. Thus we considered, in some detail, the customs of those ancient races in which the subsequent drinking habits of the world appear to have originated. We dwelt upon the social life of ancient Rome, an empire whose fall was attributable mainly to the effeminacy, self-indulgence, and tyranny of its patrician element, and the abject servility and ignorance of its plebeian population. We have somewhat carefully noticed the changes in the social history of Germany, a country in which a system of national education, the love of music, and the use of innocuous beverages have all tended to convert a whole people from intemperance to sobriety; and we have devoted considerable space to the consideration of the drinking life, if we may so call it, of our own country. There are two other existing nations whose condition at the present time calls for special notice—the Swedes and the people of the United States of America.

During the first half of the present century, the [195]Swedes are considered by some persons to have been the most drunken people on the face of the earth;⁠[311] and one well-known historian says that about the year 1828 the amount of crime over all Sweden was equal to that of the most depraved cities in Great Britain, whilst the illegitimate births in Stockholm were “one in two and three-tenths, exceeding even the proportion of Paris itself.”⁠[312] This state of things the author in question attributed to the destructive passion for ardent spirits. Other writers have regarded the accounts of drunkenness in Sweden as somewhat exaggerated,⁠[313] but all are agreed that the production and consumption of spirituous liquors were out of all proportion to the number of its inhabitants, and that the upper classes especially were most intemperate. We may state at once that the worst accounts of Swedish intemperance in former times have been based upon certain statistics which need further elucidation, for at present they appear to be erroneous, but of that the reader will presently judge for himself. Gustavus III.⁠[314] attempted to make the distillation of spirits a royal monopoly, but this created such a dissatisfaction that a modification was soon made in the law, and every little landowner who was prepared to pay a small fee for a license was allowed to distil spirits. This system continued to expand until at length nearly every one in Sweden who felt disposed to turn distiller was enabled to do so. Every burgher in the towns, we are told, had the right to retail spirits. “The effect [196]was fearful national drunkenness beyond the excess of all other nations, and the whole country may have been said to have been deluged with spirits.” But now let us descend to details. Alison says that at the time of his writing there were “no less than 150,000 manufactories of liquid hell-fire, as they have been well denominated, which distil annually thirty millions of gallons of spirits for the consumption of three millions of people.”⁠[315] This estimate, the reader will remark, gives an annual consumption of ten gallons per head of the whole population. Mr. Carnegie, who resided in Sweden from 1830 to 1845, says in his evidence before the Lords’ Committee, that in the former year “the number of stills amounted to 173,000, producing, as well as can be calculated, a quantity equal to ten gallons per head of the population.”⁠[316] Morewood treats the matter differently.⁠[317] He speaks of the extent of dram-drinking which prevailed in Sweden in 1830. The population, he says, was 2,904,538, of whom half may be considered consumers of brandy. These may be divided into three classes, according to the number of drams taken daily:—

	Canns.
Half-a-million take	5	drams daily or	60	canns yearly,	30,000,000
”	3	”	36	”	18,000,000
”	2	”	24	”	12,000,000	[318]

So far we have extracted verbatim. On the following page of his work the author tells us that 100 canns [197]are equal to 69½ English wine gallons, and that the cann is computed to hold 30 drams. From this it would appear that, in round numbers, 3,000,000 people consumed, in 1830, 60,000,000 canns, or 41,700,000 gallons of spirits, being nearly 14 gallons per head of the population. But on the same page on which Morewood gives us this rough estimate, there is what appears to be an accurate “return of the number of pans (stills) employed, with the amount of canns of brandy manufactured in Sweden during the years specified.”⁠[319] Those years are from 1825 to 1829, and the number of pans or stills agrees pretty well with Mr. Carnegie’s statement, fluctuating from 162,733 in 1827 to 173,126 in 1830, the year named by him. But the total quantity of spirits produced in the whole of the five years is set down as 17,623,837 canns, or considerably less than one-third of what the three writers estimate to have been the consumption in the year 1830 alone, in which the total production was 3,542,956 canns. (The imports appear on the same page, and are not worth considering.) This quantity is still enormous, for the reader will find, on reducing it to gallons, that a population of 2,904,538 consumed, in the year 1830, 2,462,264 gallons of spirits, whilst in England in the same year nearly 14,000,000 of people consumed 7,732,101 gallons.⁠[320] Whence the writers in question have obtained their statistics we are unable to say, but, in justice to a brave and intelligent race of men, it is only fair to point out what appears to be a grave error affecting the character of a whole nation, and to give an opportunity for its rectification or explanation. In [198]addition to spirits, the Swedes drank, at the time mentioned (and continue to consume), almost every kind of wine and a light palatable beer; and in consequence of the excessive drunkenness which prevailed, great efforts were made to promote reform. A temperance society was started in 1835 in Sweden, which Morewood tells us⁠[321] had succeeded, in 1838, in reducing the number of stills to about 150,000 (the number named by Alison), and at length, in the year 1853, a bill was introduced into the Diet which effected a complete reform in the licensing system of Sweden, and which has wrought wonders in the habits of the people. The distinctive feature of the system is, now, that licenses are sold by auction, for a term not exceeding three years, to persons who undertake to pay certain duties annually to the local authorities; “or if a company is formed for taking the whole number of public-house licenses, the town authorities may contract with such company for three years without an auction, subject to the confirmation of the provincial governor.”⁠[322]

It is upon this part of the law that the Gothenburg “Bolag,” or company, was started, which consists of a number of gentlemen whose sole object is to diminish intemperance, and who pay over the profits on the sale of drink to the town and provincial treasuries in reduction of the rates. With the exception of half a dozen licenses which the town authorities have retained in their own hands, the whole licensing system is centred in the “Bolag,” which even sublets to the clubs and hotels. The author visited the drinking houses of various classes last year, and investigated the system carefully. It is a success so far as Sweden is concerned, [199]and should certainly be tried in some town in England. The houses are strictly regulated and managed. The manager has the greatest interest in maintaining order and propriety. Solid food is supplied with drink, but that is in many cases a mere form; and everything is done to diminish as far as possible the evils attending the sale of intoxicating drink, even the lowest houses being far superior to similar places in England. The system was about to be introduced into Stockholm, and is likely to spread throughout the country. But the fact is that a Permissive Bill is also in operation throughout Sweden. The law as it stands does not fix the minimum number of public-houses, and in many places the local authorities, with the sanction of the governor, have prohibited the trade altogether.⁠[323]

There is some difference of opinion as to the success of the Swedish system, but it is easily explained. There is certainly still a good deal of intemperance in Gothenburg, but it arises mainly from the fact that the country people are unable to obtain liquor in their own neighbourhood, and therefore they take every opportunity of visiting the town, where they can procure it without difficulty, and the result is that, at certain times, there is a considerable increase of drunkenness visible in Gothenburg.⁠[324] That the legislation has been successful, however, arises from the fact that it is popular, and meets with the support of the inhabitants; for during his sojourn in the country the author never heard a single complaint against its adoption. As regards [200]the middle classes, however, the author formed the impression that they still indulge very freely in drink.

There is a custom in Sweden and other northern countries of taking a kind of preliminary meal immediately before dinner. On a sideboard numerous cold dishes are set out of sardines, ham, tongue, sausages, &c., and invariably two or three decanters of raw spirit, from which each guest takes a “schnapps” or “dram.” If an Englishman indulged in these so-called appetisers, as the Swedes are in the habit of doing, he would spoil his dinner, and they are quite astonished to hear the preliminary dram spoken of as provocative, not of appetite, but of intemperance. Then, again, the author saw people in Stockholm, in the middle of summer, in warm weather, drinking hot grog around the cafés listening to the music, a practice which he has never witnessed in any other European capital; and wine appears to be very largely consumed both by gentlemen and ladies.

Two principles are, however, in operation in Sweden which cannot fail to prove effectual in diminishing intemperance. One is, that the people are satisfied of the necessity of adopting legislative measures for discontinuing the drink traffic; and the other that, as in Gothenburg, for example, the profits of the sale, are applied to diminish the burdens of the ratepayers. In other words, the trade is being made unpopular and unremunerative, neither of which, unfortunately, is yet the case in England.⁠[325]

Once more we must follow the course of civilisation westward, this time across the Atlantic, and in the New World we shall find much to interest us in connection with drinking habits and their effects upon society. Every phase of the subject may be studied in America—the aborigines, with their primitive methods of preparing intoxicating drinks and their unbridled indulgence in them; the half-caste, who has acquired all the vices but few of the virtues of civilisation; the European emigrant, usually sober if a German; often intemperate if he comes from Great Britain or Ireland; and finally, we find there the Puritan spirit in full operation, and the law, backed by public opinion, effectually suppressing not alone drunkenness, but in many places even the manufacture and sale of intoxicating beverages.

A curious and very repulsive feature of our subject presents itself in that part of South America which is watered by the River Plate, but it must be referred to, first, because it exhibits in striking contrast the [202]drinking habits of civilised and barbarous races; and, secondly, because it almost places beyond a doubt the question of the aboriginal tendency to use native intoxicating beverages.

In the neighbourhood of the Plate there are three varieties of men—two of the Creole, descendants of the Spaniards, whose habits are quite dissimilar, and then the native Indians. All three indulge in alcoholic drinks, but in varying degrees.⁠[326] The inhabitants of the large towns, such as Buenos Ayres, Monte Video, Rosario, &c., are as civilised as Europeans, and much more sober than the majority. They usually drink light French or Spanish wine in great moderation, and mostly diluted with water. This is taken at meals, and at other times coffee, iced syrup drinks, and light beer are the customary beverages. Spirits are hardly ever tasted. The inhabitants of the interior are barely civilised, and the farther one recedes from the large towns the more distinctly the Indian blood may be traced. They are great drunkards and gamblers, and are only deterred by poverty (for they often work for food and lodging only), or by their distance from a camp-store, from habitual and continuous intemperance. They consume a raw spirit called caña, distilled from the sugar-cane, which is pure, very strong, and not disagreeable to the taste. As for the third variety, the Indians, they are men of the very lowest type, said, indeed, to have been brought under the civilising influence of the Jesuits some centuries back, but retaining only a portion of their sacred nomenclature, and a few of the rudest arts, such as [203]plaiting straw. These Indians are spread over an immense tract of country lying between the northern frontier of the Argentine Republic and the southern borders of Paraguay, and they drink, raw, a strong spirit which they distil from the sweet beans of the algaroba (the locust or carob bean). The process of distillation they have probably learned from the Europeans, though not from the Jesuits, who endeavoured to win them over from barbarism to civilisation, but they are said to have another mode of preparing an intoxicating beverage, which they adopt in common with the natives of the South Sea Islands. The drink, called cava, is prepared by masticating the root of the plant so called,⁠[327] and expectorating the chewed plant into a vessel; to this, water is added, and the whole is allowed to ferment. Morewood says that in the South Sea Islands no one is allowed to chew the root but young persons with good teeth, clean mouths, and free from disease, and he describes at considerable length both the manufacture of the cava drink and its effects.⁠[328] It is an aromatic, stimulating narcotic, with sudorific properties, and to a stranger unaccustomed to its use it operates like spirits, quickly causing intoxication. The reader must pardon this reference to what is certainly a horrible and filthy process, but it is mentioned in order to show that the arts of civilisation are by no means essential to the gratification of the desire for intoxicating beverages. And here, in these three varieties of mankind, we have another illustration of the principle laid down in our first chapter, that the passion for drink is more unbridled [204]in the savage than in civilised men. For whilst the cultivated race is remarkably sober, the half-castes in their immediate contiguity are drunkards and gamblers, and the aborigines of the interior, with many of whom they rarely come into contact, are the most debauched of all. When they can procure spirits, or when they prepare their native beverages, they drink until they are intoxicated, and remain in that condition until the supply is completely exhausted.

In no people has the transition from intemperance to sobriety been so marked as in those of the United States. The accounts of their drinking habits in the early part of this century are hardly credible, and are repulsive beyond description; in fact, they are worse than anything to be found in modern European records. The price of the native spirits was exceedingly low, varying from 1s. 3d. to 1s. 6d. per gallon, and the consumption was enormous. We have some hesitation, after what has been said concerning Sweden, in accepting statistics as a guide, but Morewood gives a table, which he says was compiled by the marshals of the United States and the secretaries of the territories,⁠[329] and which shows that in one year the distillation and consumption of spirits reached 25,456,432 gallons; whilst according to another writer the quantity distilled in 1817 was about 25,000,000. But it must not be forgotten that a very large proportion of this liquid fire was used in barter with the Indians, with what effect history has but too faithfully recorded. Nor were these all the spirits which were consumed in the [205]United States, for we find that as early as 1790 about 3,679,000 gallons were imported, and in the years immediately preceding 1806 the average annual importation had reached 9,750,000 gallons. Besides being manufactured from the usual substances, such as cereals, the native spirits were distilled from peaches, apples, and two kinds of maple; and not only was their price low, but the charge for licenses to sell them and other intoxicating drinks was equally so, varying from ten to twenty-five dollars; in fact, every possible encouragement was given to the production and consumption of home-made alcoholic beverages. Wines, too, were largely imported from all parts of the world, and in 1805 a company of emigrants planted what appears to have been the first vineyard in the United States, namely, in New Switzerland, Indiana, from which very excellent wine was manufactured.

With all these inducements to excessive indulgence in drink, it is not surprising that drunkenness was widespread; and the chief sinners and sufferers were the emigrants and the aboriginal races. The custom already existed at that time of drinking what may be called slang mixtures, “mint-juleps,” “sherry-cobblers,” &c., at bars; and although the habits of the people of the United States have since reformed, that still appears to be the characteristic form of intemperance, at least in large cities. Of the temperance societies which were started to counteract the terrible plague, we shall speak in the next chapter, but in proof of the condition of the people at that time it will suffice to mention two or three facts. In 1821, a law was passed which placed the property of habitual drunkards on the same footing as that of lunatics, handing it over to a committee of [206]the Court of Chancery. What a blessing it would be to thousands of suffering wives and children, and to society generally, not excepting the unfortunate “habitual drunkards” themselves, if such a law existed and were strictly enforced in England to-day. Would it not?

Again, from a report of the trustees of the almshouse for the city and county of Baltimore in 1827, it appears that of 623 adults admitted during the year 1826, it was positively ascertained that 554 had been placed there on account of the poverty to which they were reduced by excessive drunkenness. As to crime, in a report presented by Dr. Francis Lieber to the Philadelphia Society, he attributed nearly all the crime of the country to drunkenness, for which the chief remedy proposed by him was “education.” Moreover, the chaplain of the state prison at Sing-Sing, who was acquainted with the whole of the prison system of the United States at that time, said that of the prisoners who had been under his care, 75 in 100 acknowledged themselves to be habitual drunkards, and 44 in 100 confessed that they had committed their crimes under the influence of liquor.⁠[330] And in regard to disease, it is stated that in the summer of 1832, during a cholera epidemic in Albany, out of 336 deaths, “138 were foreigners; that 140 of the victims were hard drinkers, and 55 drank freely.”⁠[331]

Concerning the Indians, the writer here quoted said,⁠[332] that the introduction of rum and whisky amongst them was a curse which they owed entirely to the whites, [207]and that it has been a powerful agent in their destruction and demoralisation. At all councils it is freely distributed, either before or pending negotiations, and “hundreds,” he said, “breathe their last with the rum bottle in their hands.” No wonder that the poor Indians were impelled to avenge their wrongs and thus to accelerate their doom. The ordinary canons of civilisation and morality seem to have been completely ignored by the white man in his negotiations with the redskin. Throughout the civilised world a contract made between two men one of whom is intoxicated has no validity in law, and cannot be enforced, but it was not so in the white man’s dealings with the savage. There the rum bottle was the substitute for the pen which signed the contract, and the musket or rifle was the agent employed to compel its fulfilment. A more beneficent system exists at present, but it is too late, for this is the condition of the Indian of to-day, and of his relations with the white man, as described by an intelligent and impartial observer:—“Spirits and strong liquors of all descriptions are contraband in the Indian territory, and vigorous measures are taken to carry out the prohibition; but, in spite of the law, it is not impossible to obtain liquor at the settlements situated in the vicinity of the railways. At those places, however, that are under the immediate control of the military authorities, the execution of the law is strictly enforced.” But the same writer tells us that they (the Indians) “have acquired all the vices and debaucheries of the so-called civilised people (men who have escaped the meshes of the law, or reprobates who could do no good in civilised society) with whom they have come into contact, acquiring few of the virtues of civilisation, [208]whilst the many noble qualities that adorn the character of the savage are sunk and forgotten in their attempts to imitate their white conquerors.”⁠[333] This is what drink and civilisation has done for the American Indian, but we must now return to his “white conquerors.”

We have said that in the early part of this century the drunkenness which prevailed in the United States was appalling, but the energy which has carried the nation forward in all the paths of civilisation, which has succeeded in abolishing a deep-rooted system of domestic slavery, though it has been at the sacrifice of much blood and treasure; that same energy, we say, has also been successfully directed to the suppression of intemperance, which is as great a danger to any nation as slavery or communism of the worst description. From the third decade to about the middle of this century, the American people trusted to the effects of moral suasion for curing the evils of drunkenness, but it will be found that already in the year 1852 the State of Vermont had passed a prohibitory liquor law,⁠[334] and from that time to the present the war has been waged between the State legislatures, more especially those of New England, and the liquor traffic, and in the main the former have been faithfully supported by the force of public opinion. To this portion of the subject we shall return hereafter.

But the measure of success with which the cause of temperance has prevailed has not been uniform, nor has it advanced to the same stage in every part of the [209]Union. In some of the remote States, amongst the miners, for example, an enormous amount of drunkenness exists, whilst there are small towns and villages in some of the New England States where it is almost impossible to obtain intoxicating drinks, and where drunkenness is unknown. The reader will therefore appreciate the difficulty of forming and pronouncing a correct judgment upon the drinking habits of the people of this vast republic. The difficulty is greatly increased by the fact that the contest between the State, aided by individual and concerted action on the one hand, and the drink-sellers and their supporters on the other, is still actively carried on, and every day therefore brings its chances and changes. For example, it was only last April that an effort was made by the advocates of the drink-sellers in the senate of the State of New York to carry a measure repealing an Act passed in 1866, and part of another of 1857, “to suppress intemperance and to regulate the sale of intoxicating liquors.”⁠[335] During the debate one of the senators who opposed the repeal drew some pictures of the liquor dens and cellars which he said would, by the proposed bill, be allowed to dispense poison to the poor and vicious, and he launched bitter anathemas against its promoters.⁠[336] The bill was ultimately lost, but if the liquor-sellers of New York at all resemble those of Old England, they may probably renew the attempt. That there is much drunkenness in some of the large towns, especially in New York, cannot be doubted, but it is not to be compared in extent with similar places in Great Britain or even in some Continental countries. In New York only two or three [210]days before the debate above referred to, namely, on Sunday, 14th April, an attempt was made to storm a closed drinking saloon by a band of men “already half intoxicated and clamouring for more liquor.” Before the police could interfere considerable damage was done to the premises, and when the ringleaders were brought before the magistrates, “they were recognised as members of a dissolute gang who infest the neighbourhood, and who more than once before had disturbed the public peace.”⁠[337] Some of them were deservedly imprisoned; and we venture to say, without fear of contradiction, notwithstanding our bad reputation in that respect, that such an event would not have occurred in England as it did there, on Sunday, during the hours of divine service.

But a careful perusal of the newspapers, which, after all, give one a very fair estimate of the moral condition of the United States, shows beyond a doubt that alcoholic drinks are a less fruitful source of crime and misery there than with us in England. For example, in the Boston papers, under the head of “criminal matters,” we find men indicted for such crimes as embezzlement, passing counterfeit coin, gambling, and even highway robbery, but drink and drunkenness are hardly ever mentioned. That they exist we shall show later on, and the papers give accounts of temperance unions, at which it is proposed to establish halls, gymnasiums, and reading-rooms as “antidotes to the drinking saloon.” And this is in Boston, the “hub of the universe.” The same applies to the Philadelphia journals, and there, by the way, they are agitating for a change in the fiscal regulations of the excise, in order to enable the Americans to export grain to England in its most highly concentrated [211]form, namely, distilled spirits. Congress, they think, should allow a drawback on spirits which are exported, in which case “the liquor trade in our own city” (Philadelphia) “would undoubtedly engage largely in the traffic.” We cannot help thinking that the whole thing is the notion of some Yankee humorist who intends to visit England, and would like to rouse from his long rest a real specimen of the English protectionist of the old school, to see whether he bore any resemblance to men of the present day!

In the Californian journals even, the vice of drunkenness is not so frequently referred to as in almost any of our newspapers, although the deeds of swindlers, forgers, robbers, and murderers are plainly set forth, and even political shortcomings are visited with severe condemnation. One of the papers⁠[338] recently had a column filled with extracts from Californian newspapers having reference to a gentleman whose political views do not seem to find favour with some of his countrymen. He is a senator, and is spoken of as a “coward” and a “traitor,” and his followers are “law-defying miscreants engaged in diabolical schemes.” “The mob element,” we are told, “is in the ascendancy, communism stalks abroad. Hemp is his” (the senator’s) “stock-in-trade, and a portion of it might be advantageously used to suspend his worthless carcass.” So the reader will observe that drunkenness is not always a necessary concomitant of crime, and that there is a license which is unconnected with the liquor traffic. If we take up the New York papers, we seem to come nearer home. [212]There we read of wife-beating, and “stabbing whilst drunk.” “Liquor stores” are advertised for sale or to be let, but they are few in number as compared with similar announcements on this side of the Atlantic.

A stranger who travels through the United States, receives the impression that there is comparatively little alcohol drunk by any persons excepting foreigners, and that the people of the country are sober, and this impression is to some extent, but not entirely, correct. The traveller may visit and dine in large hotels in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Detroit, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, Richmond, Charleston, Savannah, and New Orleans, and he will hardly see any beer or wine upon the table,⁠[339] but——if he follows the guests after dinner, he will find, in many places, that they adjourn to the bar and drink whisky! Bar-drinking, especially what Dickens called “perpendicular drinking,” that is, taking a stand-up drink and then going off, is the usual American mode of “liquoring up,” and that is, in some towns, carried to great excess.⁠[340] But, says an English author, of the man who thus indulges, “the number of drinks he will take at that bar before business hours are over would astonish people of the same class here.”⁠[341] And the class referred to comprises “merchants, generals, colonels, senators, and [213]officers of state, who patronise these bars as freely as we would a flower-show,”—a “class of men who in our country would no more be seen entering a public-house than they would be seen entering a house of ill-fame.”⁠[342] This statement is probably a little exaggerated: the American “bar” can hardly be compared to an English gin-palace, and, moreover, strangers are apt to be misled as to the character of the persons whom they see in such places. There are drinking shops in certain parts of London which are regularly frequented by barristers, solicitors, &c., but who are they? Why, the scum of the profession to which they belong, and it would be a great mistake of any one who saw them there to conclude that such places are supported by respectable men of any rank or calling. The most repulsive thing about American drinking is its slanginess, and this is what often deceives the casual visitor. Drinks containing in reality very little alcohol are baptized with names that savour of dissoluteness and debauchery. Gin-slings, cocktails, tangle-legs, eye-openers, morning glories, are suggestive of drinking debauches over-night and tippling renewed at daybreak, whereas the truth is that the drinking habits of some States really resemble those of the more sober Continental countries. In winter or in bad weather, drinks are consumed too freely indeed which contain a certain proportion of alcohol, whilst in summer the beverages are to a large extent what are known here as “temperance drinks.”

Their passion for advertising, too, would lead a stranger to suppose that the Americans are a nation of inveterate drunkards who glory in their shame. “Bitters,” says one of the authors we have quoted, “are [214]advertised in every newspaper, placarded on every shed, painted in enormous letters on every fence and rock where a human eye may be expected to rest. I sometimes encountered these advertisements in Southern swamps and Western prairies, where one would imagine the only customers would be polecats, ‘bars’ (bears), or buffaloes.” It is said that in a graveyard in Gloucester, Mass., the following advertisement meets the eye of the visitor:—“If you would keep out here, use Hochstetter’s bitters.”⁠[343] Yes; but it is also “said” that somewhere in an English churchyard there is the following characteristic epitaph:—

But we must repeat that the people of the United States are comparatively sober, and that the low drinking which we have in England is unknown excepting in a few large towns. Intoxicating drinks are very little used in families, and are only offered to visitors. It is only in large towns that “cellars” are kept, and then chiefly by rich men. Tea, coffee, and iced drinks supply the place of wine, beer, or porter at table, and nothing surprises an American so much, when he visits this country, as to see alcoholic drinks always brought out, and present at every lunch and dinner. There is one circumstance which, in the course of his inquiries, has struck the author as being quite as serious as the intemperance amongst the poorer classes which is so much talked and preached about in England, and it is this: In the United States there is [215]no worldly advantage, but the reverse, in being a drinker of alcohol. In many places the minister of religion must be a total abstainer, and it is always a merit in every profession (generally speaking) to refrain from the use of intoxicants. Is it so here? Many ministers, it is true, are abstainers, but how many are there, on the other hand, who dine and drink freely with the wealthier members of their congregations, but who seldom go near the poorer ones, because the former pay the best? The author was discussing this matter with the chief officer of one of the largest steamers sailing from Liverpool, who told him that he had formerly been a total abstainer, but that he had found it absolutely necessary to recommence taking alcohol as it militated against his advancement in life. And if it is a disadvantage to be a drinker in the United States, still more so is it to be a drink-seller. A “grog-seller” there may build any number of churches or endow any number of institutions out of the profits of his trade, but he will be a “grog-seller” still; whilst in England, if he has fifty gin-palaces, and supplies them all from one warehouse and office or from one brewery, he calls himself a wine and spirit merchant, or a brewer, and his vocation presents no obstacle to his being allowed to rank side by side with the inferior orders of our nobility. That drunkenness is not a prevailing vice in the States is best proved by the fact that drunken people are rarely seen in the streets. The author has ascertained this from friends who have travelled over every portion of the States, and a near relative of his who resided about a year in Louisville tells him that during the whole of that time he saw only two instances, the one being an old man who was followed about by a crowd [216]of urchins reviling and mocking at him as they would at a howling idiot in England.

But we must now consider what share legislation has had in bringing about the change from the gross intemperance which existed all over the States about the middle of this century to the comparative sobriety of the present day, and with this view a cursory glance at the liquor laws in different parts of the Union, as they exist in theory, may not be uninteresting nor unprofitable. In Maine, the so-called “Maine law” entirely prohibits the manufacture or sale of intoxicating drink except for medicinal, mechanical, and manufacturing purposes, and then only through the municipal authorities. Should any one commit a breach of the law, he is to be punished by imprisonment two months in the county gaol and fined a thousand dollars. Public-houses are spoken of in the Act as “drinking-houses” and “tippling shops,” and the keeper of such a house is liable to imprisonment for each conviction. The relatives of drunkards have a right of action against any one selling liquors to such drunkards, and even persons who are found intoxicated in their own houses are liable to thirty days’ imprisonment; but, in the words of the Act, “said judge or justice may remit any portion of said punishment, and order the prisoner to be discharged whenever he shall become satisfied that the objects of the law and the good of the public and the prisoner would be advanced thereby.”⁠[344] From this and all other drink legislation in the United States it will be seen that the law regards the liquor-seller as the chief law-breaker, and the drunkard as his victim, though himself culpable.

A similar law to the “Maine law,” with modifications, exists in some of the other New England States. New Hampshire “has a prohibitory law, which is not enforced to any great extent. An effort to secure a constabulary bill has also proved a failure.”⁠[345] Vermont, as we have already stated, has a prohibitory law, and a “Civil Damage Act,” passed in 1869, by which the drink-seller is held liable for any damage done by a drunken person to whom he has supplied the drink.⁠[346] In New Hampshire, saloons, bars, &c., are declared to be “common nuisances kept in violation of the law;”⁠[347] and intoxicated persons may be detained until they are sober, and then forced, on pain of imprisonment, to declare on oath where they obtained the liquor. In Massachusetts the law is not prohibitory, but there are various classes of licenses, those for light drinks being much less expensive than licenses to sell spirits. In New Jersey there is an Act which enables the authorities to regulate licenses, but inasmuch as it does not compel them to grant any unless they choose, the people of Chatham, Co. Morris, have refused to do so, and their right has been formally recognised by the Supreme Court. They have, therefore, a local option or permissive bill, or at least what is one there, where the force of public opinion makes itself felt through the local authorities. In Rhode Island and New York there is regulated licensing. The licenses are granted by commissioners appointed by the mayors in cities, subject to the approval of the aldermen in New York and Brooklyn. In Connecticut and some other States there are permissive bills with regulated licensing, [218]also enforced closing on Sundays and election days, which is the rule in several other States. In Kentucky, North Carolina, Arkansas, Texas, &c., there are local option bills. In Pennsylvania, there is regulated licensing, with local option in some places; and in most of the other States there is regulated licensing, excepting in Nevada, where, we are told, “there is no law on the statute book relating to the traffic in alcoholic liquors.”⁠[348]

A word concerning Nevada. We do not know whether the absence of legislative interference has anything to do with it, but it is certainly a “frightful example.” It was at Virginia city in that State that Artemus Ward said, in taking his departure, “I never, gentlemen, was in a city where I was treated so well, nor, I will add, so often.” And Sir C. Dilke, who visited it, says that with ten thousand inhabitants it was blessed with five hundred whisky-shops; in some of which “diggers might be seen tossing the whisky down their throats with a scowl of resolve as though they were committing suicide, which indeed, except in point of speed, is probably the case.”⁠[349]

But whilst this is the condition of the remote States of the Union, where civilisation has but recently set its foot, a very different state of affairs is found to exist in the New England and other north-eastern States. It may at once be remarked, that so far as actual prohibition is concerned, in the large towns especially, the “Maine Liquor Law” has proved a failure. Upon that score [219]all kinds of authors, excepting perhaps a few extreme teetotallers, and all observant travellers are agreed. In the article already referred to, Mr. M’Carthy somewhat exaggerates the failure, for he says that in Portland, when he visited that city, there was no more concealment in the sale of drink than there would have been in a public-house in Fleet Street.⁠[350] The whole of his article, indeed, betrays a mind which had largely prejudged the question, and had been prepared to find failure rather than success; but it is not he alone who has testified to the breakdown of the prohibitory law. Mr. W. S. Caine, the leader of the temperance movement in and around Liverpool, who is certainly not likely to underrate efforts in the cause which he warmly advocates, has favoured the author with an account of two visits made by him (in 1875-76) to the United States, when he made a point of inquiring into the law, and he says that “he was reluctantly compelled to come to the conclusion that it needs considerable modification.” Unlike Mr. M’Carthy, he says he “wandered about the city of Portland looking for a public-house in vain.”⁠[351] He could see nothing externally that would lead him to suppose that any building was devoted to the purpose; but when he asked in various shops “where he could get a drink,” he had a score of places pointed out to him. He then did what Mr. M’Carthy had done with the same result, namely, paid a visit to the English Consul. That gentleman had sent home a strong report against the Maine Law,⁠[352] and he satisfied [220]Mr. Caine of the ease with which liquor could be procured by taking him to at least a score of places where it was freely sold. Mr. Caine also gives an amusing account of a temperance meeting which he attended at Bangor (State of Maine). “On the platform,” he says, “were one hundred and fifty men decorated with sashes and medals, the speakers and president being ladies. The men with medals were drunkards who had been reclaimed in the city of Bangor during the winter by the ‘Ladies’ Temperance Association.’ At the close of the meeting, I spoke to the lady president, and expressed my surprise that in a town where liquor was prohibited, both in sale and manufacture, one society of women should be able to find no less than one hundred and fifty drunkards in six months. She replied that the law was a dead letter in Bangor, and that it was only of use in the country districts. The speeches at the meeting were of the same character as those delivered at English temperance meetings: the rum-sellers of Bangor were denounced, their victims pitied, and it was clear that these good women had just the same difficulties to contend with as we teetotallers find in Liverpool, prohibition notwithstanding.”⁠[353]

But if a doubt remains as to the failure of the legislation so far as prohibition is concerned, it may be set at rest by reading the declarations of the teetotal judges of the land. One of those must suffice. The “National Temperance Society of New York” has published a pamphlet (No. 11) called the “Maine Law Vindicated,” by the Hon. Woodbury Davis, Judge of the Supreme [221]Court of Maine, in which that Judge enters at length into the whole subject, showing the moral influence of the law, how it is enforced, the probability of its being ultimately successful, &c., and one of his concluding sentences runs thus:—“If such men as Dr. Bacon, and many others that might be named, instead of carping at it, and at best refusing to advocate it, would come out publicly and give it a hearty and cordial support, its provisions would soon be made more stringent, the tone of public sentiment in regard to it would become higher and stronger, and its more vigorous execution would soon make it a terror to multitudes of evil-doers who now trample it under foot.” We have italicised the last words to show that, from whatever cause, the Maine Law has not accomplished what is proposed by it, namely, the entire suppression of the liquor traffic.

But although Professor Davis’s remarks may apply to the State of Maine, they do not accurately represent public feeling throughout the United States regarding the Maine Law. In Massachusetts, a prohibitory law was in force until the year 1875, but as far back as 1867 a vigorous effort was made to repeal it. Petitions signed by about 35,000 persons for, and about 26,000 against, the repeal were presented to the Legislature, and a special committee of both houses was appointed to inquire into the operation of the law. Their report was a very decided one against it.⁠[354] Without referring to the theoretical part of the question, we will only mention a few of the practical results at which the [222]committee arrived. The whole number of places in Boston, they found, in which liquor was sold in 1854, that is, before the passing of the Prohibitory Act, was 1500, whilst twelve years later, in 1866, 1515 such places existed. The number of drunken persons taken up by the police in 1854 was 6983, while in 1866 it was 15,542.⁠[355] In most of the large towns, such as Boston, Cambridge, Lowell, Charlestown, New Bedford, &c., the sale was found to be just as unrestricted as before the passing of the Prohibitory Act. One of the statements of the committee, “upon the evidence before them, was that it was a fatal mistake on the part of the leaders of the so-called temperance movement to prohibit the sale of cider and light beer.” And the committee recommended that the law should encourage the consumption of those liquors “in the true interests of temperance,” in substitution of stronger and more dangerous liquors.⁠[356] The result of that inquiry was the repeal in 1875 of the Prohibitory Bill, and the passing of an Act which regulates the price of licenses according to the kind of liquor sold. For example, the licensing committee may charge up to 1000 dollars for a license to sell liquors of any kind to be drunk on the premises; whilst they may not charge to any one, not being a brewer, more than 150 dollars for a license to sell malt liquors, cider, and light wines containing not more than 15 per cent. of alcohol, to be drunk off the premises.⁠[357] This Act (which is now in force, an amendment of it having been vetoed by the Governor) [223]is intended to be a test of the efficacy of permissive legislation coupled with restrictions where licenses are granted, as against entire prohibition. For, as Governor Rice said, in his address to the Legislature of Massachusetts in 1876,⁠[358] “It expressly declares that nothing in it shall be so construed as to require the mayor and aldermen of a city or the selectmen of a town to grant licenses. Every city and town, therefore, has the right and the opportunity secured to it to forbid altogether the sale of intoxicating liquors within its limits; and in this particular and in others the present law seems to involve the principles and measures which the most advanced temperance men in Great Britain are seeking to carry out in that country.”⁠[359] Governor Rice then recites the penalties and forfeitures that attach to breaches of the licensing regulations, which include the very important restriction “not to sell at a bar;” and he goes on to say, that the Board of License Commissioners of the city of Boston believe that under the law “something has been gained.”⁠[360] The law is recognised; there is a decrease in the sale of intoxicating liquors; and the number of liquor shops had diminished from 3090 in December 1874 to 2483 in September 1875. And finally, the Governor confirms what is usually held to be the case, namely, that whilst it is impossible to enforce prohibition in large towns, [224]“in sparsely settled agricultural districts almost any measure of repression approved by the more intelligent and virtuous citizens of the neighbourhood can be enforced.”⁠[361]

This, then, may be taken as the last enlightened utterance in the United States as to the impossibility of carrying out the Maine Law in its integrity; but, now, if we are asked whether the repressive legislation of the United States has tended to the diminution of drunkenness and to the elevation of the national morality, then the reply will be an emphatic “Yes.” We have quoted Judge Davis against the law, now let us quote him for it. Whilst there was no legal restriction upon the sale, he says: “It was permitted in almost every town; nearly every tavern in town and in city had its ‘bar;’ at almost every village and corner was a grog-shop; and in most places of that kind more than one, where old men and young spent their earnings in dissipation; men helplessly drunk on the streets and by the wayside were a common sight; and at elections, at military trainings, and at other public gatherings, there were scenes of debauchery and riot enough to make one ashamed of one’s race.” (Let us remark, by way of parenthesis, that this is but a slight exaggeration of the condition of England in our own time.) Well, Judge Davis goes on to show that the Maine law has effectually cleansed and reformed society in that State. “No observing man,” he says, “who has lived in the State for twenty years, and has had an opportunity to know the facts, can doubt that the Maine Law has produced a hundred times more visible improvement in [225]the character, condition, and prosperity of our people than any other law that was ever enacted.”⁠[362]

And what he says is true. Almost every writer on the United States bears out his statement although they may not perhaps attribute all the improvement to this particular law. Even Mr. M’Carthy says that it acts as a check upon drinking, because it draws it into low places, and makes it disreputable;⁠[363] and that the evasion is chiefly by foreigners, but that the Americans themselves are “largely total abstainers.”⁠[364] He and others say that it enables the authorities to make raids upon men who carry on the trade with effrontery, and many instances are given where they have been forced by the law, with public opinion to support it, to give up the trade altogether, at least for a time. One case mentioned by Mr. M’Carthy⁠[365] is worth recording. In Rutland, Vermont, drinking was carried to such excess that the authorities forbade the sale of drinks in the bars of the hotels. The hotel keepers “struck,” and closed their houses; but the inhabitants turned their houses into hotels, and met travellers at the railway station. This checkmated the regular innkeepers, who were glad enough to reopen their houses and submit to the law. Mr. M’Carthy adds, that a fortnight afterwards he obtained brandy at an hotel in Rutland; a fact which proves that it is possible to evade the law, and which is not calculated to raise Englishmen in the estimation of the Americans.

Another author, already quoted, says that wherever the cause of temperance is strong enough to get the Maine Law passed, it is strong enough to force the [226]liquor traffic to withdraw from public gaze. “In desperate cases,” he says, “it has to reduce itself to the exhibition of Greenland pigs and other curious animals, charging twenty-five cents for the sight of the pig, and throwing in a gin-cocktail gratuitously.”⁠[366] And it is most remarkable, he adds, how this encourages the study of natural history, for the same persons have been known to go over and over again to study the habits of the “Greenland pig!” But it is unnecessary to cite authors. In these days of rapid locomotion, every reader must have frequent opportunities of conversing with men of different nationalities who have resided or travelled in the United States, and if he takes the trouble to inquire for himself, he will find the following to be the facts in regard to American temperance legislation. So far as entire prohibition is concerned, it has failed in the large towns, but has been successful in many small towns and country villages. In places where public opinion has demanded, or cordially supported, any form of repression or restriction, it has made the traffic disreputable; has removed temptation out of the way of those who would, if they could, control themselves, and has reduced the habitual, callous drunkard, as well as the man who supplies him, to the position of a law-breaker and a sneak. It has raised the whole moral tone of society and the material condition of the masses. The failure has been where the law has tried to force prohibition upon an unwilling community; the success where a reforming or reformed public opinion has found the law ready to aid it in enforcing sobriety for the benefit of all. In short, the legislation which has succeeded best in the United [227]States is that which gives the option to localities to have liquor sold in their midst or not as they choose,—“permissive legislation,”—and that has indeed been an inestimable boon to the citizens of the Great Republic.

And now we must say a few words, and they must be very few, concerning that new development of the drink question in America, “inebriate asylums.” Attempts have been made to establish them in England,⁠[367] but so far only to a very limited extent, and they are not recognised by the State. In the United States there are at least four such institutions. The “Washingtonian Home” was opened in Boston as far back as 1857; the “New York Inebriate Asylum,” at Binghampton, was founded the following year; the “Sanitarium,” in Philadelphia, started in 1867; and an asylum at Chicago in 1868. These institutions are aided by the State legislatures, and it is calculated that in the one at Boston, out of 3000 inebriates who have been received in nine years, 2000 have been completely cured. They are all voluntary asylums, that is to say, the “patients” are never detained against their will; and those who seek refuge there pay part or the whole cost of their maintenance. Very interesting but painful accounts have been given by visitors of the condition of the inebriates, some of whom are brought by their relatives or friends completely intoxicated; and those who have conversed with the inmates, and with the medical men under whose care they are placed, tell us that there are certain canons of intemperance, if we may call them so, which are quite stable and undeviating. First, it is impossible for a drunkard ever to become [228]a moderate drinker. Secondly, there is no hope for an inebriate until he thoroughly distrusts his own resolution, and excepting as a total abstainer for life. Thirdly, he must avoid on system and on principle the occasions of temptation, such as places where liquor is sold, and persons who will urge it upon him. Even the wine given at the communion table should be avoided. “That sip might be enough to awaken the desire; the mere odour of the wine filling the church might be too much for some men.”⁠[368] This is the deliberately expressed opinion of one of the most experienced “inebriate” doctors in the States. As we have said, at present the American institutions are voluntary, but it is expected that there will one day be an asylum for incurable drunkards who will be forcibly detained, and compelled to earn their own livelihood.

This, then, is the position of the drink question in America. The contest between the sober portion of the community on the one hand, and the drink-sellers and their depraved customers on the other, a contest in which the state very properly sides with the cause of temperance, has successfully reached a stage far in advance of that which it has attained in Great Britain, and the people are devoting their energies and their inexhaustible resources to arrive at a practical solution of the problem which has hitherto puzzled all men and all ages.

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

What, then, have been the causes of intemperance in the human race? and are those causes still in operation? These are the questions to which we must first seek satisfactory replies. Some persons hold the view that climate has much to do with the inordinate love of intoxicating drink, and they point to the intemperance of Northern nations—of the Russians, the Swedes, the Norwegians, and the English—as examples in favour of their theory, comparing them with the Mohammedans and the [230]nations of Southern Europe. But our cursory glance at the habits of the earliest known races of mankind has taught us that there has been as great intemperance in warm and dry as in cold and damp climates. The history and traditions of ancient China, of some of the Aryan races of India, and of the ancient Egyptians, go far to invalidate the climatic theory. And how about the people of ancient Greece and Rome during the decadence of the latter? What is to be said of Torquatus “Tricongius;” of the Emperor Tiberius? Even the evidence which is adduced in favour of the theory, on careful inquiry, tells against it. It is true that the Mohammedans of to-day are a comparatively sober people. But why are they so? Because their great prophet found them such inveterate drunkards that he made them renounce intoxicating drinks entirely, in order to save them from destruction.

We are quite prepared to admit, however, that the inhabitants of cold and damp countries are able to stand more alcohol than those of warmer regions. That is shown by the change which takes place in the character of the drinks taken at different seasons of the year in the same country. And that is a circumstance, too, which should not be lost sight of by those who draw inferences concerning the degrees of intemperance in any particular locality from the statistics of drink consumed. We have not taken the trouble to look closely into the matter, but it would not at all surprise us to find that in years where there had been severe cold, or a long continuance of “uncomfortable weather,” the consumption of alcohol will have materially increased. This is, however, an abnormal condition, and we believe that the argument will not hold good that a cold and [231]damp climate constantly favours intemperance as compared with one that is warm and dry. At the present time, the Northern nations of Europe are actually becoming more sober, whilst the habits of some of those bordering on the south are tending in the opposite direction.

Another explanation has been given of the prevalence of drunkenness, namely, the practice on the part of medical men of too freely prescribing alcohol as a remedy for bodily ailments. This sin was laid to their charge at a very early period, for Pliny, as we know, censured certain of them for seeking to please their patients by such prescriptions. Nor are they by any means free from blame in our time; indeed, we shall find presently that medical men of the higher order admit this to be the case. The downfall of many a man or woman has dated from the first dose prescribed by a heedless or mercenary physician; but all right-minded medical men now recognise this abuse in the profession, and none are so anxious as they to see it remedied. In this relation, however, it will be proper to say a few words on the necessary employment of alcohol in cases of disease, for we must be careful not to pronounce an opinion which shall cause unnecessary suffering to the innocent and afflicted, even whilst we are condemning a recognised abuse. The views of medical practitioners are somewhat divergent on this question, but the balance of opinion decidedly favours the use of alcohol in certain cases; and amongst those who hold that view are found to be some who have written vigorously in favour of total abstinence. In the United States, for example, we noticed that even the Maine Liquor Law provides for its sale for medicinal purposes; [232]and in Scotland, Dr. James Miller, in his able work against alcoholic beverages, more than once approves of their use medicinally, and treats of the cases of disease in which they may be beneficially employed.⁠[369]

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

As regards the use of alcohol in surgical cases, it is needless to say that its indiscreet application under such circumstances must be dangerous, without reference to its moral effects; but there, too, the best opinions favour its use in certain cases. They are well expressed by Mr. W. S. Savory, F.R.C.S., of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, in a letter to the author, which, [233]with the writer’s sanction, he publishes verbatim, for it conveys at the same time moral sentiments concerning the use of alcohol which he holds in common with nearly all respectable practitioners in the present day. “Although,” he says, “I am willing to admit that in my opinion alcohol, in its various forms of wine, beer, and spirits, is often needlessly and recklessly prescribed in the practice of surgery, yet I am sure that we could not altogether dispense with its use without frequent disadvantage to our patients, and even the occasional sacrifice of life. In cases where stimulants are required, sometimes others, as certain drugs, might be substituted for those, either without loss or with positive gain; but, after full allowance is made for this, there must remain, I think, many instances in which alcoholic drinks largely promote recovery, and several in which the balance of life and death turns upon their prompt and judicious administration. When I reflect on the enormous evil of alcohol to the community—an evil in its physical and moral results beyond parallel—I wish with all my heart that I could, as a surgeon, say less for this most prolific parent of disease and crime.”

Looking, then, at the opinions here expressed, and at all the circumstances, we think our readers will agree with us in saying that it would be very unwise and injurious to attempt, by pressure or coercion, to interfere with the employment of alcohol by regular medical practitioners when they deem it requisite. But, on the other hand, society is under deep obligations to those who are endeavouring to replace it by other remedies, and more particularly to the philanthropists who have recently established an hospital from which the use of alcohol is entirely excluded. The [234]great benefit that such an institution will confer, not only upon the medical profession but upon the whole community, is that it will lead to the limitation of the use of alcohol in diseases, and will prevent its prescription merely to gratify the taste of self-indulgent patients. Eventually, too, it may lead to the discontinuance of the use of alcohol even for medicinal purposes.⁠[371]

Two other causes, concerning which there will be no difference of opinion, have been assigned for the prevalence of intemperance, and these lie at the very root of the whole matter. Whether, technically speaking, the love of intoxicating drink be or be not “instinctive,” it is a human passion, and certainly it is in many cases hereditary. As we showed in our opening chapter, those who refuse to regard it as an instinct are driven to acknowledge that it is an “inbred enemy,”⁠[372] which is transmissible by inheritance; and one writer on temperance speaks of the enjoyments which accompany the use of alcohol in terms sufficiently vague to show that he has no very clear views on the matter. “It is something transferred from the category of drugs into that of food,” he says, “because in its effects it is pleasant or ‘delightful to the senses.’ In its effects, we say, for as regards itself, the ‘daintiness’ and ‘deliciousness,’ and ‘gratifying of the appetite,’ are generally not instinctive but acquired.”⁠[373] But it is precisely this “deliciousness,” and the pleasurable sensations which accompany its use, that have caused the passion for drink to obtain so great a mastery over a large [235]portion of mankind, and it is a waste of words to tell people who find intoxicating drink dainty and delicious and pleasant to the senses, that they must discontinue its use because it is generally an acquired taste, and does not form part of their instinctive nature. That the forms in which alcohol is imbibed are often very unpalatable, there can be no doubt. If the “soma” drink of the ancient Aryans at all resembled that which the modern Brahmans permitted M. Haug to taste, the gustatory sense amongst the primitive races of men could not have been very refined, and we question whether it needed less education than the palate which can find enjoyment in gin and bitters, or in a tumblerful of Scotch whisky diluted with cold water. But it is the physiological effect upon the body, and the influence upon the brain and nerves, which have been the irresistible attractions of alcohol for men, women, and children in all ages. The Aryans could not conceive of Indra’s performing any great action unless he was inebriated, because alcohol inspired them (his worshippers) with artificial valour. “Wine banishes fear,” said the ancient Rabbins. Homer makes his hero speak of

Pliny, the foe of intemperance, says of wine, that “it causes a feeling of warmth” in the body, and he extols its moderate use. “Brandy,” said a Red Indian, “is made of tongues and hearts, for when I have drunk of [236]it, I fear nothing, and I talk like an angel.” And that is precisely the sensation which is experienced by a modern pothouse orator whilst he is spouting to a small circle of admirers in the bar-parlour, or by the more ambitious politician who flourishes in the face of a bewildered continent a sanguinary manifesto under the exhilarating influences of a civic feast.

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

When, in addition to its physiological and mental effects, the liquor itself is sweet and aromatic, as in certain wines, or when the process of fermentation has been checked and a sparkling effervescence is superadded, making it pleasant also to the taste and smell, it is no wonder that its influence should be so irresistible, and that it should entice so many from the path of duty. It “drives dull care away,” the anxious man will tell us, and if it be only for the time, he is content to seek refuge in his cup from the cares of life. It “warms the heart of man,” and makes that one generous and open-hearted who is otherwise niggard and reserved. He may be meaner afterwards for having forgotten himself in a moment of exhilaration, but that only renders his fits of inebriate generosity the more conspicuous. If not itself a food, it often takes its place where suitable nourishment is wanting, and it would be rank hypocrisy to deny that a bottle of port-wine has brought health and comfort to many a poor man’s home. And finally, it has been a bond of union in all ages between those [237]who have been misnamed “good fellows,” amongst whom—

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

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

One writer on the subject, who is usually considered an authority, says that “for a hard-working student, politician, professional man, or busy merchant, there is [238]no better arrangement possible than that of taking as the regular daily allowance, a bottle of sound ordinary wine of Bordeaux.”⁠[376] Such wine, we are told, is to cost one shilling per bottle. Another quotation from the same writer will, however, relieve us from the necessity of showing that this can hardly be called moderate drinking: “We did not intend,” he says, “when recommending the ‘hard-working student’ to allow himself a bottle per diem of weak Bordeaux wine” [it was ‘sound’ just now], “to give that recommendation to young lads. We are thinking of ‘hard-working students’ of middle age; and we would state our firm conviction that for youths, say under twenty-five, whose bodily frame is as yet not fully consolidated, the proper rule is, either no alcohol, or very little indeed.”⁠[377] We trust that “young lads” under twenty-five will appreciate the compliment and the advice; and as to politicians and busy merchants, we may safely leave them to enjoy a bottle of shilling claret per diem, if they like that “arrangement.” Another medical authority, the “Lancet,” in a very temperate article on the “Drink Question,” says that, “For young and active men a glass of beer, or one or two glasses of claret, at dinner, is, we believe, an ample supply; while men of middle age may, with advantage, stop at the third glass of claret, sherry, or port, and feel no ill result.” But the same writer admits that no definite quantity can be fixed, and that “the ultimate test in every case must be experience, and until men have enough moral control and discretion to limit their drinking to that which they absolutely require, all direction and rebuke will be thrown away.”

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

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

Modern temperance societies were, as their name indicates, [240]associations of earnest men whose object was to check drunkenness, and their scope was at first limited to the recommendation of abstinence from spirits. On that basis the first temperance society was founded at Boston, U.S.A., according to some authorities, on February 1824,⁠[378] whilst others say in February 1826.⁠[379] In the New World they spread with marvellous rapidity; for we are told that in 1829 there had been formed more than 1000 temperance societies; that upwards of fifty distilleries had been stopped, above 400 merchants had relinquished the sale of spirits, and upwards of 1200 drunkards had been reformed. As a proof that the change was not merely hypothetical, it was shown that in 1824 the imported spirits amounted to 5,285,000 gallons, whilst in 1830 the imports had fallen off to 1,195,000 gallons.⁠[380] All good citizens co-operated in the work of reformation. Shipowners paid higher wages to temperance captains, and the Boston Insurance Company agreed to return five per cent. on the premium of every vessel navigated without spirituous liquors, as our marine insurance companies might well do in England, with great pecuniary benefit to themselves. Even the war authorities aided the movement by issuing an order prohibiting the distribution of spirits amongst the army, and substituting eight pounds of sugar and four pounds of coffee with every 100 rations, as an equivalent for the spirits formerly in use. In 1834 the number of temperance societies had increased to about 7000, reckoning two millions of members, and a thousand ships were sailing without spirits on board.⁠[381]

In England the first society was started on the 2nd February 1830, by Mr H. Forbes at Bradford; in Scotland, at Greenock, by Mr. John Dunlop and his friends on the 6th October 1829; and in Ireland by the Rev. G. W. Carr at New Ross, 1829. In the last-named country, it is hardly necessary to remind the reader, the great work of temperance reform was taken up at a later period and carried on with great vigour and success by Father Mathew, the well-known philanthropist. From the very commencement the temperance societies have received the support of all thoughtful members of the community, but they have had drawbacks in the eyes of many which prevented their being regarded with unqualified approbation. They soon found it necessary to shift the basis of their operations from the mere abstention from spirits to what is called “total abstinence,” and from moral suasion only, they turned to coercive legal measures against drunkards and drink-sellers. In these matters they have, however, only followed the direction of public opinion, and whilst the number of their members and the zeal of their workers have increased, their changed policy has naturally swelled the ranks of their enemies. Many of their members, too, have taken refuge within their precincts from their inability to exercise due control over their passions, and some of those have not been any more successful as temperance orators than they were previously as moderate drinkers, for it is their intemperate advocacy which has alienated many who would otherwise have been warm supporters of the movement. Amongst the leaders of the great reform, however, there have been some of the noblest men of the age, who have cheerfully submitted to ridicule, to sneers, and to [242]every kind of obloquy and persecution in the performance of their sacred duty; and their perseverance, aided by that of myriads of workers of the rank and file, is already bearing rich fruits in the ameliorated condition of modern society.

The extent and ramifications of modern temperance societies are almost incredible. Most of the United States and Territories have general societies, and in many cities and townships of each State there are, as with us, local societies with their branches. The chief religious denominations are committed by resolution and practice to total abstinence, and many churches connect temperance work with their other organisations. So widespread and universal are these denominational societies, that Father Nugent of Liverpool stated before the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance that he found attached to nearly every Catholic church in Canada and the United States total abstinence societies, and that such society was “the leaven of each congregation.”⁠[382] Indeed, he was so impressed with what he witnessed there, that on his return home, to use his own words, “he took up Father Mathew’s work in Liverpool on the 29th February 1872.” His action, coupled with that of his zealous associates in Liverpool, has had the effect of ameliorating the condition of the Irish Catholics in that town, although there is still ample room for improvement; but his reforming zeal is not universal, for there are places in which the priests have not hesitated to seek the alliance of the gin-shop in the pursuit of what they no doubt believe conscientiously enough to be their religious duty. On the whole, however, the leadership and example of their chief, Cardinal Manning, and [243]the self-denial and devotion of the priesthood, are doing much to stem the tide of drunkenness amongst the class in which that vice is undoubtedly the most prevalent in all English-speaking communities.

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

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

As we find the introduction of tea, coffee, and chocolate to have produced a beneficial effect in Germany, [245]so the author believes that the establishment of such houses as those referred to will eventually prove the most effective agency for the reform of drunkenness in Great Britain. But many of those places must first be reformed themselves before they can accomplish their object. Whitewashed brick walls, deal tables and benches, thin tea and coffee, or thick cocoa, will never compete successfully with crystal chandeliers and “cream of the valley.” The working man must be enticed from the gin-palace by the superior attractions of the cocoa-rooms, and held fast when he is once secured. The opening of museums and art galleries on Sundays, which will be long deferred by the Sabbatarian spirit of the English people, will have a tendency, indirectly, to elevate the lowest classes, especially if the gin-palace, with its counter-attractions, be closed on the day of rest. As potent as any of the agencies named is the spread of national education, and a movement which has recently been set on foot to instil the importance of temperance into the minds of children in Board and other schools, coupled with the action of the existing “Bands of Hope,” will certainly operate to advantage upon the drinking habits of the rising generation.

But all these agencies are at present more or less paralysed by the alliance, already, referred to, between the ruling power of the state and the “drink interest.” It is hardly conceivable that any political party should in the nineteenth century desire to retain its predominance through the corruption of the masses, but the fact is undeniable that the Conservatives, who have always claimed “social reform” as one of the functions of their party, have ranged themselves on the side of the drink-sellers, [246]and have largely availed themselves of the Englishman’s love of his beer, or rather of his spirits, to seize and hold the reins of office. They were allowed to gain that position through the apathy of the people, and as we have had a “Long” Parliament and a “Rump” Parliament, so the present House of Commons will go down to posterity labelled the “Grog Parliament.”

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

Here it will be seen that two principles were recognised by the Legislature: first, that the opportunities for obtaining drink might, on the score of public policy, be curtailed with advantage, and secondly (as in the United States), that the sober but mercenary publican [247]who supplies the drink is violating the law even more than the miserable drunkard who consumes it. But now let us look at the results which have been obtained from this Act. It was passed in 1872, and for the five years ending 1877 the convictions for drunkenness in Liverpool amounted altogether to 90,339, whilst the whole number of publicans who were convicted for supplying drink contrary to law during the same years was 289, being rather less than one-half of those against whom information was laid by the police.⁠[386] And in London the state of affairs is equally deplorable. In the report of the metropolitan police for 1876, we find the statement that, whilst 32,328 persons were arrested for drunkenness in that year, the convictions against drink-houses amounted to 186. The question which naturally suggests itself when one reads these figures is, where do all those drunken men get the liquor which brings them within the pale of the law? It is right to add that the London report states that the Act of 1872 has enabled the police to close a great number of objectionable houses; still the figures speak for themselves.

And now as to the clauses which refer to the restriction of the hours of sale. Not even the most thorough partisan of the drink interest will deny that the moral effect of those clauses has been very great. For there has been no option. The Act was one for the suppression of the liquor traffic at very unseasonable hours (they are still very unreasonable and unseasonable, for that matter), and, generally speaking, that portion of it has been effectually carried out. The result has been comparative quiet and decency [248]in our streets during the prohibited hours, and a diminution of the worst forms of drunkenness. But the clause for limiting the hours of sale contained provisions which gave some little latitude to the magistrates, and the time of closing and opening was modified to suit the wants and wishes of particular neighbourhoods, the opening hour in some large manufacturing towns, for example, being so regulated as to withdraw temptation from men going to their work. But that did not suit the books of the publicans, and as soon as the present Government came into power, it was found expedient to make the hours “uniform” throughout the country. In other words, the Conservatives threw a “sop to Cerberus,” and extended the hours of opening and closing, so as to increase the profits of the publicans as far as it was practicable without too great an outrage upon public opinion. All parties excepting those who instigated the change objected to it, and the evidence given before the Lords’ Committee shows that it has caused great annoyance and inconvenience to employers of labour, and a material loss of wages expended in morning-drinking and its consequences.⁠[387] The truth is, that the various associations which have been formed throughout the country for the protection of “the trade” saw in this small instalment of “permissive legislation” great cause for alarm, and they accordingly directed all their energies to its repeal.

The same line of policy has been adopted by the present Government whenever it was called upon to decide between the wishes of the community and those of the “trade.” The people of Birmingham desired to adopt [249]a measure resembling that known as the “Gothenburg system,” described elsewhere; the Government thwarted their wishes. A resolution was passed by a large majority of the House of Commons in favour of closing public-houses on Sundays in Ireland, but the Government set the wishes of the House at defiance: and why? Because the necessary sequence of Sunday closing in Ireland and Scotland would be a similar measure in England; and it has only been the fear of grave complications which has at length forced the Government to listen to the demands and give a half-hearted acquiescence to the wishes of the Irish people. Have they not a right to complain that their true interests are sacrificed to the corrupt policy of their neighbours, and to clamour for a larger share in the management of their own affairs?

Nothing indeed could be more clearly defined than the attitude of the two great political parties on the drink question. The whole of the sympathies of the Conservatives (so far, at least, as the Legislature is concerned) are with the drink-sellers, and they have constituted themselves the champions of intemperance. The drink-sellers know this but too well. Quite recently three deputations waited upon the Home Secretary to seek his influence and support. The first two were “drink” deputations, one being from the “Brewers’ Association” of certain northern towns; and the other from the “Licensed Victuallers’ National Defence League.” The first came to ask the Home Secretary to protect them from prosecutions to which they were being subjected for adulterating beer with salt, notoriously one of the chief incentives to drunkenness in this country. The second deputation sought his protection from similar [250]prosecutions for adulterating spirits with water. The Home Secretary told the first deputation that he was sorry he could not interfere, but he volunteered the advice to them to take a case into the High Court of Justice; and as to the second deputation, he not only gave them similar advice, but promised to save them from harassing legislation by putting himself in communication with the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the Inland Revenue upon the subject, with a view to introducing an “Amending Bill!” The third deputation was of a different stamp. It represented the great religious bodies of the Church of England, Nonconformists, and Roman Catholics, headed by a Rev. Canon of very high position, and it was ushered in by several members of Parliament. The object of the deputation was to ask the Government to introduce a bill for closing public-houses in England on the Sunday. The reply of the Home Secretary was that no one was more alive than he to the evils of intemperance (a profession which the author heard him make shortly before he extended the hours of sale), but he added, with unconscious irony, that he “had to look at the matter as one of practical politics and policy, and he considered it would be unwise to promote such a bill.” Of course he refused to do anything, and when one of the members of Parliament present expressed a desire to test the opinion of the House on the subject, he said. “Oh, decidedly: then I should give my own opinion on the subject.”

This is the political attitude of the Conservatives on the question of intemperance, and their social position is much the same. With few exceptions, their public utterances are usually made at Licensed Victuallers’ dinners, and the question of intemperance is treated [251]with great levity; but, on the other hand, the liberal leaders, such as the Duke of Westminster, Earl Granville, Lord Aberdare, Mr. Gladstone, and, it is needless to add, Sir Wilfrid Lawson, are all more or less actively engaged in the crusade against drunkenness.

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

The fact is, that the Liberal party has a more important platform even than free trade, and that is “Reform” in its most comprehensive sense, and no reform can be accomplished without great inconvenience to individuals. One of the chief articles of food consumed by the poor in every part of the three kingdoms is bacon; [252]and yet when pigstyes became a nuisance in our towns, as “tippling-shops” are pronounced to be in some of the United States, they were mercilessly suppressed, notwithstanding that in so doing the authorities interfered with “the liberty of the subject.” And although a glass of beer is a legitimate indulgence, for it is by no means a necessary of life, yet if in any particular neighbourhood it is found that the existence of gin-palaces has become a public nuisance, and that those places lead to breaches of the law, or to such neglect of social duties on the part of a large number of individuals as to cast unnecessary burdens upon the whole community, it is anything but a “liberal policy” to foster them, or in any way to provide for their continued existence.

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

At the present time there is no permissive measure before the country, excepting that of Sir Wilfrid Lawson, which, in its inceptive form, proposes to confer [253]upon majorities of two-thirds of the ratepayers in cities, boroughs, parishes, or townships, the power of entirely suppressing the sale of intoxicating drinks, and that bill has been time after time rejected by the House of Commons on the second reading. But then almost every other measure that has been introduced into Parliament for mitigating the evils of drunkenness has met with a similar fate, partly on account of the predominating influence of the publicans, and the fear on the part of members of the House of Commons of giving offence to a formidable body of men who, once at least, have been mainly instrumental in upsetting a Ministry, and also from the apprehension that if such a power as that sought by the bill were granted, it would become the instrument of tyranny and oppression.

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

But let us look at the bill itself, and supposing that it became law as it stands at present, what would be its effect upon the community? The reply of objectors is very well known: “It would enable a tyrannical [254]majority in small places to prevent a poor man from getting a glass of beer, whilst it would not preclude the wealthy from keeping a stock of wine or spirits; and in large towns it would be altogether inoperative, as it has been in the United States.” Assuming these to be the real objections to the bill (which they are not), what do they amount to when they are dispassionately considered? Surely no one will deny that there is a great deal of drunkenness even in small towns and country places; and if it would be less difficult to suppress it in such places than in large towns, would it not be a very practical mode of proceeding to win the outworks of intemperance before storming the citadel? It might even at first increase the amount of drunkenness in towns, as it has done in Gothenburg, through the influx of visitors from the country, where no drink could be procured; but that would be a proof of its necessity and a tribute to its efficiency. Has the objection ever been urged against the closing of public-houses in towns at certain hours on Sundays that it compels a few sots to walk miles in search of drink into a neighbouring country parish, where the law is not carried into effect so rigorously on account of the absence of police supervision?

But it would be a waste of time to protract the discussion. To pass a law is one thing, to enforce it rigidly is another; and it may be admitted once for all that it would be to a considerable extent evaded, as the Maine Law has been in America. But we have seen that hitherto, with one partial exception, namely, the limitation of the hours of sale, that has been the fate of all legislation against intemperance. Therefore in that respect the Act would be no worse than its predecessors, [255]and it might be much more successful. On the other hand (still regarding the bill in its inchoate form), it would make the sale of intoxicating drink illegal; and as we are a law-abiding nation, a great many people would give up the trade, and a very considerable number who have hitherto thought it unnecessary to refrain from taking alcohol would feel it to be their duty to become partial or total abstainers. In other words, it would cease to be the fashion to drink and to invite others to do so: it would no longer be necessary for a man to imbibe liquor in order to get on in the world, as it is too frequently the case at present. As soon as the trade itself became illegal, it would, as it is now conducted, become very disreputable, and its open encouragement would cease. For it cannot be too frequently repeated that a very large number of respectable and influential men, who would consider it discreditable to keep a public-house themselves, do not hesitate to associate on terms of equality with publicans if they are only in a sufficiently large way of business, and thereby to foster a grave source of national danger.

But suppose the bill were read a second time, which is only an acknowledgment of its principle, does any reflecting reader who has followed the changes in our laws and constitution with ever so little attention, believe for an instant that a real injustice would be permitted against any important section of the community? For, as already stated, no great reform can be accomplished without inconveniencing individuals, who in this case would in all probability be either habitual drunkards, or those who are enriching themselves at their expense. It may be that in the present condition of society the bill aims at too much, and it is quite certain [256]that in its passage through Parliament it would be loaded with safeguards against oppression and the possibility of arbitrary proceedings on the part of total abstainers, by honourable members who would be anxious to prove their devotion to a certain class of their constituents, so that no poor man would be “robbed of his beer,” and no legitimate interests would be sacrificed. For permissive legislation, as we have seen, has been found the most effective in that country where the rights of citizens are the most jealously watched. On the other hand, the official sanction which the bill would give to the cause of temperance would make that cause “diplomatically strong;” and the very prospect of its passing into law would have the effect of greatly diminishing some of the evils, and of entirely sweeping away other existing abuses of which it is intended to be the corrective.

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

The hasty survey which has been made in the preceding chapters, of the drinking habits of our race in various lands and ages, will, we trust, have had the effect of modifying some of our theories, based upon preconceived ideas, concerning the causes of intemperance. That climate is not a permanent source of that evil has, we think, been clearly proved. Nor is the popular theory tenable that barbarism and an aboriginal condition of mankind mean purity and sobriety, but that drunkenness is the invariable concomitant of a high state of civilisation. For, at the time when man is supposed to have been in a state of paradisiacal innocence, the standard of his morality was very low indeed, both as it concerned his indulgence in drink, as well as in other respects; and although purity and simplicity of faith appear at all times to have been accompanied by similar moral qualities, yet religion alone, excepting in one or two cases, has not exercised an important controlling influence upon the passion for drink in the human race. On the other hand, however, the superstitious rites and ceremonies with which religion has been more or less encumbered in all ages [258]have countenanced if not patronised the use of intoxicating beverages.

It is quite true that every phase and form of civilisation has at one time or other been debased by its association with intemperance, and has frequently ministered to man’s self-indulgence. Music and the arts have not disdained to become the handmaids of debauchery; poetry has been degraded by its influence; the artifice of politics and the designs of priestcraft have found it a convenient tool. And as to science, she has consented in a hundred different ways to multiply man’s opportunities for self-debasement or to furnish him with palliatives for mitigating the evil effects of his dissoluteness. But, on the other hand, if we can trust our imperfect knowledge, we see already that the wave of intemperance has invariably reached its highest point, not when nations have been the most highly civilised (if any nation can be said to have attained that condition), but either before it was fairly educated, or during the national decadence.

Nor is the expression “waves of intemperance” purely imaginative, for they have had a real existence in the history of the past. One or more such waves rose high in ancient China, and probably overwhelmed dynasties, and yet modern China is not reckoned amongst inebriate states.

Another reared itself in India, where it broke against the barriers which were opposed to it by Buddha and his disciples. The pure descendants of the Indian and Persian races, the Hindoos and Parsees, who are the best educated, are at the same time amongst the most temperate of the Eastern races. In ancient Rome, on the other hand, the wave of intemperance reached its [259]greatest altitude when the arts were languishing, when her military prestige was waning, and when the barbarians whom she had subdued were becoming in their turn her conquerors. That wave was never broken, but for the time being it helped to wreck the civilisation of a large section of the human race over which it passed. Another smaller wave travelled from Central Asia towards the south-west, and there Islamism was the rock upon which it burst. This is, perhaps, the most conspicuous instance in which religion, aided, however, by the sword, has offered an effective resistance to the spread of drunkenness. The same tide which had submerged the Roman empire rolled on with undiminished force, and nearly overwhelmed the empire of Germany. But there, for the first time, we clearly apprehend the fact that drunkenness does not run side by side with true civilisation, at least if the latter is represented by all that is noble and refined in æsthetic tastes, all that is enlightened in literature, science, and philosophy. For the Germans were the greatest drunkards at the time they were mere fighting men; not, perhaps, when they faced the legions of Germanicus, and certainly not when they stood opposed to those of Napoleon III.; but whilst they were still a nation of uncultivated boors, submissive followers of a band of robber-barons, whose highest conception of human greatness consisted in feats of arms and deeds of chivalry. But with the extension of commerce and intercourse with surrounding peoples came habits of temperance and frugality, in which the nation was soon confirmed by the spread of knowledge, by intellectual culture in the upper classes, and by the education of the great mass of the people.

And so, too, it has been in modern Scandinavia, in England, and in the United States of America. In each of those lands the tide of intemperance rose to its highest before the masses began to be educated, and in all three the ebb appears to have set in with greater or less rapidity. So far, then, it would appear, from a careful study of the history of drink and its influence upon the various races and upon the different classes of society, that barbarism and religious credulity are accompanied by immorality and unbridled intemperance, whilst sobriety, virtue, and self-restraint are the concomitants of pure religion, and of the arts of civilisation.

But we must not content ourselves with the negative proposition that intemperance is not the necessary outcome of civilisation, nor even with the general statement that the latter brings with it self-restraint and sobriety. The most potent check upon immorality, especially in recent and modern times, has been enlightened public opinion, which is the expression of advancing civilisation; and it is upon the conduct of those who have moulded public opinion that the morality of every age has been largely dependent. Evil examples in high places and a disregard of public propriety have done as much to encourage the vice of intemperance as the passion from which it springs. Whilst the priests of the ancient faiths intoxicated themselves at the altar, and portrayed the deities whom they served with tastes similar to their own, it was not likely that the crowd of worshippers would practise sobriety. In those days the priesthood to a large extent represented public opinion, and, as we have seen, they not only countenanced drunkenness, but hallowed its exercise. [261]When the military heroes of ancient Rome gave away a hundred thousand congiaria of wine to the mob, or kept cellars of 10,000 casks, or devoted whole days and nights to drinking bouts, it is no wonder that the ragged plebeians, without shoes or a mantle, spent the hours of the night in obscene taverns and brothels in the indulgence of gross and vulgar sensuality; for it was the great military leaders of that age who moulded public opinion. And so, coming nearer to our time, when, in our own country, the installation of a shepherd in the fold of Christ was commemorated by a feast at which 300 tuns of ale and 100 tuns of wine were swallowed down, and when the ladies of the court of Charles the dissolute “rolled about in a state of intoxication,” it was only a necessary sequence that the lower orders should get drunk upon gin at a penny a head, and whilst in that condition they should herd together upon straw in dark cellars which would have been unfit receptacles for the brutes, below whose state they had fallen. And although in our day the public feeling is expressed rather than created by those who occupy high places, still the utterances of ministers of state such as those we have quoted, and the open countenance and encouragement which is given by influential party-leaders to persons who profit by the intemperance of the ignorant and depraved, cannot fail to produce a very pernicious effect upon public sentiment, and to militate against the exercise of its due influence upon the national morals.

Looking at the other side of the question, we find that all great temperance reformers have appealed to public opinion to aid them in their efforts. Confucius did not say to his disciples, “Be careful not to drink [262]wine to excess, for it will enervate your bodies and debase your intelligence.” He was more practical than that. “The superior man when he is at table does not glut his appetite,” he said; and “when you go abroad be not given to excess in wine.” In other words, “Don’t lower the standard of morality, nor degrade yourselves in public estimation, by setting a pernicious example; for, remember, you are superior men, the leaders of society.” The Buddhist priests were ordered not only themselves to refrain from using strong drink, but they were told that “there is no reward for him who gives intoxicating liquors.” And St. Paul advised abstention from drink lest others should be “made weak” by the example. Pliny, too, denounced the public drinking practices of his age, and the scandalous conduct of the great military leaders, who, as we have already said, moulded public opinion; and Mahomet said of drunkenness, that it diverted the attention of mankind from its highest and noblest occupations, prayer and the remembrance of God.

And if this has been the policy of temperance reformers in past ages, much more conspicuously is it so in the present day, when public opinion is becoming the censor of morals and the approver of merit and virtue. That it is absolutely essential for them to have the popular sentiment on their side has been conclusively shown in connection with every phase of the question. It is futile for earnest men to lecture to drunkards amongst the lower classes, so long as the great mass of the electors, guided by unscrupulous party-leaders, choose publicans to represent them in town councils, and promote them to the aldermanic or civic chair. Equally idle is it for clergymen to preach [263]temperance sermons to decorous congregations whilst those who are enriched by the results of drunkenness are permitted, in consequence of their wealth and influence, to hold a higher rank than the parishioner whose calling is innocuous, and even above him whose profession ministers to that health and comfort which are undermined and uprooted by the gin-palace. Repressive legislation, however wise and however indispensable it may be, is, as we have seen, quite inefficacious unless supported by public opinion. It is in those countries where not only the upper ranks, but the whole mass of the people, enjoy the benefits of education, where, in fact, an enlightened public opinion is a possibility; in Sweden, Norway, and the United States of America, that the interference of the State authorities has proved of any avail in the work of temperance reform. The duty of Englishmen, in what is by many believed to be an important crisis in our history, is therefore very plain. It is because the abuses to which frequent reference has been made are tolerated and sanctioned in our own country, that our people abroad as well as at home are stigmatised as—the words come most reluctantly from the pen of one who is proud of his nationality—as a nation of drinkers; and it is the duty of men in every rank and station to express their disapproval of intemperance and the causes which lead to its prevalence, and so to influence public opinion in favour of sobriety.

And now let us say, in conclusion, that if the perusal of these pages should have removed any misconceptions, or have suggested any important truths, in connection with the subject of which they have treated; if it should induce any who have hitherto been calculating, [264]or timid, or indifferent, to extend a warm and disinterested support to the cause of temperance reform; or if it should afford help and encouragement to those who are already labouring to raise the standard of morality and to ameliorate the condition of the poor and ignorant, their publication will not have been in vain, and we shall certainly have no cause to regret having invited our readers to bear us company in this cursory and imperfect glance over the history of drink in every age.

FOOTNOTES

[1] On the Action of Alcohol on the Mind, pp. 11, 12. W. Tweedie.

[2] Results of Researches on Alcohol, p. 6 (“An Inbred Enemy”). W. Tweedie.

[3] Descent of Man, i. 12.

[4] Brehm, Thierleben, b. i. 1864, a. 75, 86. Also on the Ateles, s. 105, and elsewhere.

[5] Morewood’s Inebriating Liquors, p. 55 and subsequent pages, which contain numerous references. Dublin: W. Curry, jun., & Co. 1838. In referring to this work, we shall in future simply say “Morewood.” An earlier but much less perfect edition was published by Longmans in 1824.

[6] Researches in South Africa, p. 411. Murray.

[7] Researches in South Africa, pp. 186, 630, &c.

[8] The Malay Archipelago, vol. ii. p. 102.

[9] Striking instances will be found in the chapter on America in the present work.

[10] Morewood, p. 65, where Malte Brun, Whittington, and other travellers are referred to as authorities on the same subject.

[11] The Heart of Africa, vol. ii. p. 13. Sampson Low & Co.

[12] Heart of Africa, vol. i. p. 183.

[13] Morewood, who quotes authorities, p. 349.

[14] Ibid., p. 350.

[15] History of Europe, vol. i. 7th ed. p. 21.

[16] This will be further strikingly shown in the chapter which relates to the habits of the tribes on the River Plate.

[17] Herodotus, iii. 20-22.

[18] Keller’s Lake Dwellings, p. 344, Longmans; and Nilsson’s Stone Age, edited by Sir J. Lubbock, pp. xxiii., xxix., Longmans.

[19] For full information, see abstract of the treatise on the plants of the lake-dwellings in Keller’s book (cited), p. 336, where illustrations will be found of a great variety of plants in use at that early age.

[20] Keller’s Lake Dwellings, pp. 41, 342.

[21] One of our leading ethnologists, Mr. J. Crawfurd, F.R.S., expresses the view, in a paper read by him before the Ethnological Society, March 10, 1868, that the discovery and art of manufacturing some kind of intoxicating drink may be said to be coeval with the first dawn of social development, for it has soon been made by barbarians of every race in possession of the requisite raw materials; it is mere wandering savages, he says, that have been found ignorant of it. The same author considers that the vine is indigenous in several parts of Western Asia and Southern Europe.

[22] Confucius et Mencius, par M. G. Pauthier, p. 152. Paris: Charpentier.

[23] Wright’s Homes of Other Days, p. 269. Trübner & Co.

[24] Confucius et Mencius, p. 153, et seq.: “dejà entrées en putréfaction.”

[25] Confucius et Mencius, p. 108.

[26] Ibid., p. 114.

[27] Ibid., p. 144.

[28] Ibid., p. 148.

[29] Ibid., p. 333.

[30] Ibid., p. 355. This game was made an excuse for gambling, a vice still prevalent in China.

[31] Legge’s Chinese Classics. Trübner & Co.

[32] Legge’s “She-King, or Book of Ancient Chinese Poetry.” Trübner & Co.

[33] Legge’s Chinese Classics, vol. iii. pt. i p. 274.

[34] Other accounts are to be found in the “Shoo-King” of the condition of China at the time, and one (vol. iii. pt. i. p. 274) describes the people as being given up to highway robberies, villainies, and treachery; the nobles as violating the laws; and that there was no certainty of the apprehension of criminals. All this was attributed to the growth of drunkenness.

[35] The She-King, pp. 182, 183.

[36] The She-King, p. 252.

[37] Ibid., p. 308.

[38] Ibid., p. 314.

[39] Ibid., p. 207.

[40] The She-King, p. 375.

[41] Ibid., p. 261.

[42] Ibid., p. 322.

[43] Ibid., p. 195.

[44] The She-King, pp. 266-268.

[45] The great reformer known to us as Buddha was born at the foot of the mountains of Nepaul, and his death took place according to one writer 543 B.C., according to another 477 B.C., consequently about a year before the date assigned for the death of Confucius. See Max Müller’s “Chips from a German Workshop,” vol. i. p. 247.

[46] Hardy’s Eastern Monachism, p. 24. Partridge & Oakey.

[47] Ibid., pp. 80-82.

[48] Morewood, p. 231, and elsewhere. This author gives interesting details of the distilling processes in China.

[49] Social Life of the Chinese, by the Rev. Justus Doolittle, p. 500. Sampson Low & Co.

[50] Ibid., pp. 500-512.

[51] Chinese Sketches, by H. A. Giles, of H.B.M. Consular Service, p. 154. Trübner & Co.

[52] This is explained by Mr. Doolittle, who says that many games are played, in the course of which the loser is compelled repeatedly to empty his cup of wine.

[53] Chinese Sketches, p. 12.

[54] History of the Ancient Sanskrit Literature, pp. 523, 572. Williams & Norgate.

[55] Haug’s Essays on the Religion, &c., of the Parsees, pp. 280-283. Trübner & Co.

[56] The Bases of Temperance Reform, p. 113. Rev. D. Burns, M.A. London: Tweedie & Co.

[57] Rig-Veda, 1. 4. 2. Most of these extracts from the Rig-Veda have been translated for this work from the original Sanskrit by Dr. Myriantheus, an able Sanskrit scholar, and compared by the author where it was possible with Wilson’s and Langlois’ translations of the Rig-Veda. With respect to the foregoing quotation, Dr. Max Müller translates it (in a letter to the author): “The intoxication of a wealthy man bestows wealth;” that is, a wealthy man when intoxicated is generous. Nothing can be more convincing than this rendering that the Aryan conception of the gods was but a reflection of the character of the people themselves.

[58] Rig-Veda, 1. 9. 1.

[59] Ibid., 1. 52. 5.

[60] Ps. cxxxvi., and Rig-Veda, Langlois’ translation, p. 174.

[61] Rig-Veda, 8. 1. 23.

[62] Ibid., 10. 119.

[63] Ibid., 10. 112. 3.

[64] Ibid., 3. 58. 6.

[65] Rig-Veda, 1. 54. 8, and 3. 43. 5.

[66] Ibid., 5. 43. 3.

[67] Aitareya Brahmána, vol. ii. p. 507.

[68] Rig-Veda, 1. 191. 10.

[69] Ibid., 8. 2. 12.

[70] Chips from a German Workshop (R. V. 7. 86. 6).

[71] Manu was a religions and moral lawgiver, whose doctrines united the spirit of Buddhism with that of the Brahmans. One of his translators and commentators, Sir William Jones, believes him to have lived in or before the ninth century B.C. Professor Wilson, one of the translators of the Rig-Veda, places him about the sixth century B.C. Gautama Sâkya (Buddha) is, however, supposed to have lived in the sixth or fifth century B.C. These are discrepancies which we cannot attempt here to reconcile. The extracts in the text are from Sir William Jones’s translation of the “Institutes of Hindoo Law, or the Ordinances of Manu,” chap. xi. Allen & Co.

[72] Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. xlii. p. 10 et seq.

[73] Morewood, p. 162, and Table, p. 717.

[74] Ibid., p. 182.

[75] The Natives of India, by James Kerr, pp. 171-173. Allen & Co.

[76] Wanderings of a Pilgrim, vol. ii. pp. 147, 148. Pelham Richardson.

[77] India and its Native Princes, by Louis Rousselet, p. 173. Chapman & Hall.

[78] In Doran’s Table Traits, p. 300 (Bentley), will be found a drinking-song which was sung in the army not very long since during the prevalence of cholera, when, the author says (not defining the exact period), drinking in India was fearful. We extract two verses to show the callousness that prevailed.

“Not a sigh for the lot that darkles,

Not a tear for the friends who sink,

We’ll fall ’mid the wine cup’s sparkled,

As mute as the wine we drink.

Come, stand to your glasses steady!

’Tis this that the respite buys.

One cup to the dead already;

Hurrah! for the next that dies.

“Who dreads to the dust returning?

Who shrinks from the sable shore,

Where the high and haughty yearning

Of the soul can sting no more?

No, stand to your glasses steady;

This world is a world of lies!

One cup to the dead already;

Hurrah! for the next that dies.”

[79] Avesta, Die heiligen Schriften der Parsen, by Dr. F. Spiegel, vol. i. p. 8. Leipzig: Engelmann.

[80] Haug, Essay on the Religion of the Parsees, p. 282. London: Trübner & Co.

[81] Vendidad, by Dr. Spiegel, vol. i. p. 207.

[82] Vendidad, vol. i. p. 253. See also vol. iii. p. xlix.: “Die Daevas Kunda, Banga und Vibanga als Gegner des Craosha, es sind die Dämonen der Trunkenheit.”

[83] And judging from the Zend-Avesta, to other gross forms of immorality.

[84] Born at Halicarnassus, B.C. 484.

[85] Herodotus, i. 133.

[86] Ibid., i. 126.

[87] Ibid., i. 212.

[88] Ibid., iii. 20-22.

[89] Sale’s Koran, p. 84. F. Warne & Co. “Lots, and images, and divining arrows” are explained to mean “all inebriating liquors and games of chance.” See also sec. v. and chap. ii. p. 23, where it is said that “in lots and wine there is great sin.”

[90] Sale’s Koran, p. 199.

[91] Ibid., pp. 95, 96. Also the present chapter and the chapter on the Egyptians; also Morewood, p. 721, table, from which it will be seen that there were imported into Turkey between the years 1827 and 1834 inclusive, 229,460 gallons of spirits, besides wines, beer, and ale, and that 11,272 gallons of wine were exported from Turkey during the same period.

[92] Morewood, pp. 85-89.

[93] Allgemeine Culturwissenschaft, by Dr. G. Klemm, vol. ii. pp. 338, 339. Leipzig: Romberg.

[94] Fraser’s Persia, p. 332. Oliver & Boyd.

[95] Through Persia by Caravan, by Arthur Arnold, vol. ii. p. 322. Tinsley. See also Klemm’s Culturwissenschaft, p. 323: “Man geniesst den Wein vornehmlich gern des Abends,” he says of all Moslems.

[96] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 20.

[97] Ibid., vol. i. p. 283.

[98] Max Müller’s Chips from a German Workshop, vol. i. p. 161.

[99] The Parsees, by Dosabhoy Framjee. Smith, Elder, & Co.

[100] Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible, Art. “Wine.”

[101] Scripture Testimony against Intoxicating Wine, by Rev. W. Ritchie, D.D., p. 224, and elsewhere, Houlston & Wright; and “The Basis of Temperance Reform,” by Rev. D. Burns, chap. v., Pitman; and “Bacchus Dethroned,” by F. Powell, chap. vii. Kempster.

[102] Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible, Art. “Wine.”

[103] Scripture Testimony against Intoxicating Wine, p. 68.

[104] Scripture Testimony against Intoxicating Wine, p. 65.

[105] Exod. xxix. 40, 41; Lev. xxiii. 13; Judges ix. 12, 13: “Then said the trees unto the vine, Come thou and reign over us. And the vine said unto them, Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?”

[106] The Talmud, by H. Polano, pp. 349, 355. F. Warne.

[107] The Mishna, De Sola and Raphael, pp. 7-9. The author has to thank the Rev. M. Joseph of Liverpool for some of these references.

[108] Babylonian Talmud, Treatise Berachot, fol. 35 a.

[109] The Mishna, De Sola and Raphael, p. 48.

[110] Lev. x. 9.

[111] Num. vi. 3, 20.

[112] Jer. xxxv. 7.

[113] Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible, Art. “Wine;” also note at end of chapter i. of this treatise.

[114] Polano’s Talmud, p. 261; also Isa. xxii. 14.

[115] Gen. xxvii. 28, 37; Deut. vii. 13, xi. 14, xxvii. 51; 2 Chron. xi. 11; Ps. civ. 15; Song of Solomon v. i.; Lam. ii. 12; and Hosea xiv. 7, where wine is named amongst the blessings to be restored to Israel.

[116] Isa. lv. 1.

[117] Polano’s Talmud, p. 247.

[118] Gen. xiv. 18.

[119] Polano’s Talmud, p. 291.

[120] Gen. xviii. 9-20.

[121] Gen. xix. 35.

[122] Prov. xxiii. 29-32.

[123] Isa. v. 11.

[124] Poland’s Talmud, p. 254.

[125] Joel iii. 3.

[126] Luke i. 15; Matt. iii. 4; Mark i. 6.

[127] Luke vii. 33, 34.

[128] John ii. 7 et seq.

[129] Scripture Testimony against Intoxicating Wine, p. 184.

[130] Tim. v. 23.

[131] 1 Tim. iii. 2, 3, 8.

[132] Rom. xiv. 21.

[133] Rom. xiv. 2-4.

[134] Rom. xiii. 13.

[135] 1 Cor. vi. 10. The early Christian fathers, to whose teachings concerning drunkenness we shall refer hereafter, found the vice to prevail almost wherever they went as missionaries, in Africa, Gaul, Britain, and elsewhere, and they denounced it in the most vehement terms.

[136] See the remarks on Inebriate Asylums in our chapter on America.

[137] Gen. xl. 11. This was, however, the unfermented juice of the grape.

[138] Wilkinson’s Ancient Egyptians, vol. i. p. 4. Murray.

[139] Wilkinson’s Ancient Egyptians, vol. i. pp. 45, 46, 52, 53.

[140] Rawlinson’s Herodotus, vol. ii. p. 127. Bohn.

[141] Pliny’s Natural History, vol. iii. p. 247. Bohn. Those who are disposed to study the conflict of evidence further should refer to Bishop H. Browne on Gen. xl. 9, &c., and Wilkinson’s note to Rawlinson’s Herodotus, ii. 77.

[142] Athenæus, vol. i. p. 55. Bohn.

[143] Athenæus, vol. i. p. 56.

[144] Dionysus is considered by some authors to be the same as the Egyptian Osiris. Diodorus, i. 11. Wilkinson’s Egyptians, i. 285.

[145] Smith’s Larger Dictionary of Antiquities, Art. “Dionysia,” by Dr. L. Schmitz.

[146] Buckley’s Odyssey, Book ix. p. 118 et seq. Bohn.

[147] Odyssey, p. 292. Circe, too, intoxicates her admirers with “Pramnian wine” (Ibid., Bk. x.) and drunkenness is a constant theme throughout the book.

[148] Bohn’s Athenæus, vol. ii. p. 682.

[149] Smith’s Dictionary of Antiquities, Art. “Helotes,” by Philip Smith.

[150] Athenæus, vol. i. p. 229, and vol. ii. p. 731.

[151] Athenæus, vol. i. p. 59.

[152] Athenæus, vol. i. p. 59.

[153] Pliny was born in the north of Italy, A.D. 23. He served as a soldier in Germany, and practised as a special pleader in Rome. He was killed at the age of fifty-six whilst observing an eruption of Vesuvius, for he was an ardent lover of nature. Our extracts and references are found in his “Natural History.” Bohn.

[154] Natural History, vol. iii. pp. 252, 253, et seq.

[155] About 220 B.C.

[156] Pliny, p. 252. See also the account of the miracle of Cana, John ii. 10.

[157] A measure of about six pints.

[158] Pliny, p. 255.

[159] Pliny, p. 215.

[160] For farther particulars concerning the process of wine-making in Rome, the reader is referred to Smith’s “Dictionary of Antiquities,” Art. “Vinum,” by W. Ramsay, which contains a large amount of useful and interesting information on the subject.

[161] Pliny, vol. iii. p. 218 (Book xiv.).

[162] Ibid., p. 222 et seq.

[163] The “Kölnische Zeitang,” Friday, November 23, 1877. “Vermischte Nachrichten.” See also “The Chemistry of Wine,” p. 374, by Mulder. Churchill.

[164] Pliny, vol. iii. p. 239.

[165] Pliny, vol. iv. p. 259.

[166] Athenæus, vol. ii. p. 772.

[167] Smith’s Dictionary of Antiquities, Art. “Vinum.”

[168] Athenæus, p. 738 et seq.

[169] Ibid., p. 747.

[170] Petronius (Bohn’s Classical Library); Athenæus, &c.

[171] Athenæus, p. 729.

[172] Petronius, Trimalchio’s Feast.

[173] Originally the skeleton was carried round to remind the feasters of their mortality, and to warn them not to indulge too freely in the pleasures of the table.

[174] In England it was customary in the Middle Ages to pour the wine down the offender’s sleeve. At Haddon Hall there is still an iron clasp fixed against a wall, which was used for the purpose of holding the wrist whilst that operation was performed.

[175] Book iv. cap. 28.

[176] More than two gallons at a draught! It seems an incredible feat.

[177] Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, vol. iii. p. 215. Edinburgh: Strachan, 1782.

[178] Bohn’s Tacitus, vol. ii. p. 312 et seq.

[179] J. W. Petersen. Geschichte der Deutschen Nationalneigung rum Trunke, p. 7. (History of the German National Tendency to Drink, originally published in Stuttgart, 1782.) Stuttgart: Scheible, 1856.

[180] Klemm’s Allgemeine Culturwissenschaft, vol. ii. p. 326, Leipzig, Romberg, 1856; and Petersen, p. 9.

[181] Readers who are desirous of following the extension of vine-culture in Germany and Europe generally, will find full details in a work by H. von Carlowitz, Leipzig, 1846; and a fair list of all important works on the subject published in past times in Germany is to be found in Klemm, p. 327 et seq.

[182] All the chief vineyards on the Rhine were planted by the monks. See “Speise und Trank vergangener Zeiten in Deutschland” (Food and Drink in Past Times in Germany), by Dr. A. Schlossar, p. 23. Vienna: A. Hartleben, 1877.

[183] For an account of the preparation of mead, see “Speise und Trank vergangener Zeiten,” &c., p. 24.

[184] “Ut nullus ebrius suam causam in mallo possit conquirere, neo testimonium dicere. Nec placitum comes habeat, nisi jejunus.” See Petersen, Appendix, p. 128. Also Klemm, pp. 342, 343.

[185] “Ut in hoste nemo parem suum, vel quemlibet alium bibere coget, et quicunque in exercitu ebrius inventus fuerit, ita excommunicetur, ut in bibendo sola aqua utatur, quousque se male fecisse cognoscat.” Petersen, p. 128.

[186] “Jus Potandi,” from the original, published in 1616, by “Dr. M. Oberbreyer,” Introduction. Heilbronn: Gebr. Henninger. Whether “Jus Potandi” be a satire, as it probably is, or a serious production, it very faithfully reflects the drinking habits of the time.

[187] Studenten-Lieder des Mittelalters. Heilbronn: Gebr. Henninger.

[188] Jus Potandi, p. xvi., Introduction.

[189] “Das Leipziger gekräuterte, bauchzerreissende Rastrum.”—Jus Potandi, clause 8, p. 13. See also, “Speise und Trank vergangener Zeiten in Deutschland,” p. 46, where many other kinds of beer are mentioned.

[190] Jus Potandi, clause 24, p. 31.

[191] Ibid., clause 25, p. 34.

[192] Ibid., clause 48, p. 69. See “Speise und Trank,” &c., p. 38, where the drunkenness of females is referred to.

[193] Ibid., clause 18, p. 22.

[194] Jus Potandi, clause 34, p. 45.

[195] Ibid., clause 15, p. 20.

[196] Ibid., clause 45, p. 64.

[197] Similar codes will hereafter be referred to, of an undoubtedly serious character, as existing in France and England.

[198] Full confirmation of this state of things is given in “Speise und Trank,” &c., pp. 10, 11, 28, 31, 32, and at p. 34, where an account is given of a hundred and ten persons drinking four tuns of beer and one and half ohm of wine at a sitting.

[199] “Saus und Braus” in German is equivalent to “revelry” in English.

[200] The same practice prevailed even amongst women. Speise und Trank, &c., p. 38.

[201] Speise und Trank, &c., pp. 11, 12, 18.

[202] Eckehardus, jun.: De Casibus Monast. St. Galli, cap. ix. p. 41; also Speise und Trank, &c., p. 17, as to monasteries in the Black Forest.

[203] Rabanus Maurus. The Discipline of Drink, by Rev. T. E. Bridgett. Burns & Oates.

[204] Loc. cit., p. 141.

[205] As to the luxury and drunkenness of priests, see also “Speise und Trank,” &c., pp. 10, 11, 17.

[206] Speise und Trank, &c., pp. 47, 48. The first coffee-house was opened in Vienna in 1683; in Augsburg, 1713; in Stuttgart, 1712. This part of the subject will be fully treated of in one of the chapters on England.

[207] Petersen, “Concluding remarks.”

[208] The German Working Man. Longmans & Co.

[209] Discipline of Drink, p. 255. All the German Culture Unions are practically temperance societies, although alcoholic drink (chiefly German beer) is freely obtainable in them.

[210] The events which have happened in Berlin whilst this treatise is passing through the press lead the author to add, “without assassination.”

[211] Discipline of Drink, chap. xi.

[212] Homes of Other Days, by Thomas Wright, M.A., F.S.A., p. 294, Trübner & Co.; British Monachism, by T. D. Fosbrooke, p. 47, Nichols & Son and Rivington, 1802.

[213] Homes of Other Days, p. 42.

[214] Discipline of Drink, p. 77.

[215] Harleian, Cottonian, &c.

[216] Homes of Other Days, pp. 45-47. The various instrumentalists of the Anglo-Saxon period are called by the author hearpere, the harper; bymere, the trumpeter; pipere, the piper or flute-player; fithelere, the fiddler; and horn-blawere, the horn-blower.

[217] Legend of St. Juliana, Homes of Other Days, p. 50.

[218] Discipline of Drink, p. 135.

[219] Ibid., p. 135.

[220] Ibid., p. 136.

[221] Fosbrooke’s British Monachism, vol. i. pp. 16, 17.

[222] Ibid.

[223] Fosbrooke’s British Monachism, vol. i. p. 24.

[224] Homes of Other Days, p. 25.

[225] Homes of Other Days, p. 119.

[226] The reader must remember that noon was the dinner-hour.

[227] Justiciar was equivalent to our Lord Chief-Justice.

[228] Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, by T. E. Tomlins and J. E. Rokewode. Whittaker.

[229] Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, p. 27.

[230] Homes of Other Days, p. 94.

[231] Homes of Other Days, p. 288.

[232] Fosbrooke, vol. ii. p. 124.

[233] Discipline of Drink, p. 80.

[234] Fosbrooke, vol. ii. p. 124.

[235] Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, pp. 30, 31.

[236] Ibid., p. 35.

[237] Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, p. 44; also Fosbrooke, vol. i. p. 83.

[238] Beer and wine were both made by the monks. In the time of William Rufus there were four brewers, and five servants in the vineyard at Kresham monastery (Fosbrooke, vol. ii. p. 102). A most amusing record for posterity, by the by, of the customs of our day will be the advertisements which appear from time to time in our English papers, of the right of certain monasteries to the sole manufacture of well-known liqueurs—Gin and Gospel!

[239] A Book about the Clergy, by J. C. Jeaffreson, vol. i. p. 354. Hurst & Blackett.

[240] Discipline of Drink, p. 113.

[241] It is but right to say that decrees were from time to time promulgated by the synods and bishops against the practice of holding “ales” in churches, but they seem to have had little effect.

[242] Jeaffreson’s Book about the Clergy, vol. i. p. 356.

[243] Homes of Other Days, p. 368.

[244] Homes of Other Days, p. 427.

[245] Ibid., p. 445.

[246] Homes of Other Days, p. 346.

[247] Ibid., p. 397.

[248] Discipline of Drink, p. 175; see also p. 176 and elsewhere. Also, British Monachism, vol. i. p. 66. For some time after the Reformation some of the poorer English clergy kept taverns. ‘Miscellany Accounts of the Diocese of Carlisle’ (1703-7) by William Nicholson, late Bishop of Carlisle, ed. by R. S. Ferguson. (“Contemporary,” May 1878.)

[249] King Henry IV., Part II. Act ii. sc. 4.

[250] Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, p. 25.

[251] British Monachism, vol. ii. p. 122.

[252] Homes of Other Days, p. 181; MS. Sloane Museum, No. 2435.

[253] British Monachism, vol. ii. p. 167.

[254] British Monachism, vol. i. p. 121.

[255] Hallam’s Constitutional History of England, vol. i. p. 71. Murray.

[256] British Monachism, vol. i. pp. 138-140.

[257] Ibid., vol ii. p. 19.

[258] British Monachism, vol. ii. pp. 32, 33.

[259] Ibid., pp. 42-47.

[260] Ibid., p. 177.

[261] Jeaffreson’s Book about the Clergy, vol. i. p. 91.

[262] Canons of Œlfric, A.D. 970; Discipline of Drink, p. 150.

[263] Decree of Giles of Bridport, Bishop of Salisbury, A.D. 1256, against “Scot-ales,” loc. cit., p. 176.

[264] Synod of Kilkenny, A.D. 1614, loc. cit., p. 180.

[265] Nationalneigung zum Trunke, p. 97.

[266] Nugæ Antiquæ, i. 348-350; in Lingard’s History of England, vol. ix. p. 109 n., 2d ed., 1825.

[267] Macaulay’s History of England, vol. i. chap. i, Longmans, 1873; Scott’s Peveril of the Peak; Brooke’s Manners and Customs of the English, Blackwood, &c.

[268] John Evelyn, one of the first Fellows of the Royal Society, A.D. 1620-56, quoted in Doran’s “Table Traits,” p. 458. Bentley.

[269] Kindly given to the author by Sir Sydney Waterlow, Bart., M.P.

[270] From Memoires de l’Angleterre, A.D. 1698, in Homes of Other Days, p. 473.

[271] Doran’s Table Traits, p. 66.

[272] Doran’s “Table Traits,” where a more detailed account is given of the clubs here named, along with many others.

[273] Alphonse Esquiros, “The English at Home.”

[274] Those who are curious to know which of the political and social leaders of the period were drunkards should read Lecky’s “History of England in the Eighteenth Century,” vol. i. chap. iii. pp. 476-482. Longmans & Co., 1878.

[275] Morewood, p. 25.

[276] The Chemistry of Wine, p. viii., by C. J. Mulder. Churchill.

[277] Ure’s Dictionary of Arts, vol. i. p. 42, 6th ed.

[278] Morewood, p. 560.

[279] The table is compiled from Mulder’s “Chemistry of Wine” (Appendix), Bloxam’s “Chemistry,” and the author’s own article on “Beer Scientifically and Socially Considered,” Quarterly Journal of Science, 1870, vol. vii. p. 315, and from other sources.

[280] Rev. Dawson Burns, M.A., Metropolitan Superintendent of the United Kingdom Alliance. From the Journal of the Statistical Society, March 1875, p. 13.

[281] Morewood, p. 560.

[282] Macfarlane and Thomson’s History of England, vol. iii. p. 258; Lecky’s History of England during the Eighteenth Century, pp. 476-482.

[283] It should be mentioned that in 1751 more stringent regulations were enacted, but none that in any degree approached the “Gin Act” in severity.

[284] Fraser’s Life of Berkeley, pp. 332, 333, in Lecky’s History of England.

[285] The Upas Tree in Marybone Lane, by James Smith (1775-1839).

[286] The High Street of Edinburgh, by Sir Alexander Boswell, the oldest son of Johnson’s biographer (1775-1822).

[287] Meaning Welshman.

[288] From an old poem, in the “Discipline of Drink,” p. 84.

[289] A.D. 1678. Ibid., p. 182.

[290] Jeaffreson’s Book about the Clergy, vol. i. p. 91 n.

[291] Lecky’s History of England, vol. ii. p. 93.

[292] A.D. 1698-1762.

[293] The Court of Death. Gay lived 1688-1732.

[294] Lecky’s History of England, p. 476 and notes, where numerous authorities are quoted.

[295] Third Report of the Lords’ Committee, p. 954, Q. 10,116.

[296] For further details as to the sale of alcoholic drinks to females, and reputed drinking practices amongst them, vide First Report of Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, evidence of Captain Palin, Chief Constable of Manchester, p. 166, Q. 1601; also Third Report, evidence of Sir William Gull, M.D., p. 254, Q. 10,116. In the work on “The Uses of Wines in Health and Disease,” p. 8, by Dr. Anstie (Macmillan), the author refers to secret dram-drinking by women; but medical men, like police magistrates, usually have before their eyes the worst side of human nature.

[297] First Report of Lords’ Committee, p. 16, Q. 184.

[298] Third Report, p. 32, Qs. 8311, 8312.

[299] It must be clearly understood that the above remarks are not intended to disparage the evidence that was tendered by Mr. Chamberlain, M.P., who replied to the questions of Lord Aberdare, and whose efforts in the cause of licensing reform merit, in the author’s opinion, greater appreciation than they have received.

[300] First Report, p. 240, Qs. 2416-2418.

[301] Table No. 22, Extract from the Annual Report of the Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis for the year 1876.

[302] In the same report (1876) the reader will find that Colonel Henderson attributes the additional number of arrests to “the increased activity of the police,” but he believes there has been some increase in drunkenness during the last six years. Of course he can only judge of the class which comes under the notice of the police.

[303] Table laid before the Committee of the House of Lords on Intemperance, by the Head Constable of Liverpool, being a compendium of the facts relating to the subject for twenty-one years.

[304] “Instructions” for 1845, pp. 34, 35; 1867, p. 33; and 1878, p. 42; kindly supplied to the author by the Chief Constable.

[305] Journal of the Statistical Society, March 1875.

[306] P. 7.

[307] Return to a canvass of working men made by sixty-seven of the largest employers of labour in Liverpool, and verified by the President of the Liverpool Chamber of Commerce. See also the remarks on the extension of the hours by the present Government.

[308] It may be added, as an expression of opinion, that the Rev. Canon Ellison considers there is a diminution of drunkenness in the agricultural districts. See his evidence before the Lords’ Committee, Third Report, p. 105, Q. 8930. From other evidence, also, the author has satisfied himself that one of the chief objects of the Agricultural Labourers’ Union, like most other trades unions, has been to prevent the payment and expenditure of wages in drink. In many parts of England a considerable proportion of the labourers’ wages is still paid in cider—an infamous system, which ought long since to have been abolished along with other forms of “truck.” The three reports also contain many expressions of opinion, very conflicting, however, on the prevalence of drunkenness amongst miners, quarrymen, &c., which are well worthy of the reader’s perusal.

[309] The English at Home, by Alphonse Esquiros, pp. 271-273. Chapman & Hall.

[310] Whilst writing these pages the author read the following narrative in the “Liverpool Daily Post,” April 25, 1878, which illustrates the condition of the poor in some of the lowest parts of that town:—

“On Tuesday afternoon the attention of a constable was drawn to the not very unusual phenomenon of a drunken man and woman in Johnstone Street. The woman had a child in her arms. It was taken from her, and found to be in a shockingly diseased and neglected state. The constable afterwards visited the ‘home’ of the inebriates. The sole piece of furniture was an old table. In the top room the woman’s father was lying on the bare boards, without a vestige of clothing upon him, and covered only by an old rug. In another part of the house was an aunt, who was much the worse for drink. Around her were three young children. There was not a particle of food in the whole place, and when the children were given some buns to eat, they devoured them savagely. Drunken parents reeling in the street with an unhealthy and neglected baby; a house in a court, with only an old table in it; an old man lying on the bare boards, with simply a rug for clothing or covering; a tipsy aunt, and three hungry, dirty children around her, make up a picture which would be considered unusually terrible if the scene were laid in the hut of a savage, and which is certainly a bitter satire on nineteenth century civilisation. The father and mother were brought up at the Police Court yesterday, and remanded; and the court ordered that the children should be removed forthwith to the workhouse.”

[311] Mr. Carnegie’s evidence before the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, First Report, p. 262.

[312] Alison’s History of Europe, vol. xv. p. 191, 7th ed. Blackwood.

[313] Morewood, p. 477.

[314] A.D. 1771-92.

[315] History of Europe, vol. xv. p. 191, 7th ed.

[316] First Report of Lords’ Committee, p. 262.

[317] In his first edition (1824) he does not refer to the smaller stills; indeed, his remarks are of no interest. His second edition is dated 1838.

[318] Morewood, p. 480.

[319] Morewood, p. 481.

[320] Rev. Dawson Burns’ paper before Statistical Society, p. 17.

[321] Morewood, p. 481.

[322] Carnegie, loc. cit., p. 263.

[323] We shall find precisely the same state of things to exist in certain parts of America.

[324] See the evidence on the “Gothenburg System” in the Report of the Lords’ Committee.

[325] A good deal of information concerning the sale of brandy (Bränvin) in Sweden may be gleaned from the Acts of June 26, 1871 (Stockholm, Norstedt & Söner), and from those of 18th September 1874 and 16th May 1877, for which the author is indebted to Mr. Oscar Dickson of Gothenburg.

[326] The author is indebted for these particulars to Mr. S. P. Wilding (son of a former American Vice-Consul at Liverpool), who has resided many years on the River Plate.

[327] Macropiper methysticum: Miquel. See Lindley’s Medical and Economic Botany, p. 133. Bradbury & Evans.

[328] P. 250; also Lindley’s Medical Botany, loc. cit.

[329] P. 325, and Addenda. This table also appears in the first edition (1824), p. 177.

[330] America, Historical, Statistical and Descriptive, by J. S. Buckingham, vol. ii. p. 304. Fisher.

[331] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 417.

[332] Ibid., vol. iii. p. 36.

[333] Sketches on the Prairies, by Captain A. H. Markham, R.N., in “Good Words,” May 1878.

[334] Liquor Laws of the United States, p. 21. National Temperance Society and Publication House. New York.

[335] Liquor Laws of the United States, p. 43.

[336] New York Herald, 18th April 1878.

[337] New York Herald, 16th April 1878.

[338] The San Francisco weekly “Alta California.” The author has not named any other papers. He has studied whole files of them, in some cases without even finding drunkenness mentioned, and the reader who desires to consider the question carefully can easily do the same.

[339] “Prohibitory Liquor Legislation in the United States,” by Justin M’Carthy, “Fortnightly Review,” August 1871, p. 166. Although a writer on America is here quoted, the author has not trusted to printed testimony in any of these observations upon the drinking habits of the United States. He has verified them from the experience of numerous friends and acquaintances who have travelled and resided in the States, Englishmen, Germans, and Americans themselves.

[340] By some it is affirmed that the middle classes of the United States consume more spirits than the same class in England.

[341] The Americans at Home, vol. ii. p. 306. By D. Macrae. Edinburgh: Edmonston & Douglas.

[342] The Americans at Home, vol. ii. p. 305.

[343] The Americans at Home, p. 307.

[344] Liquor Laws of the United States, p. 15.

[345] Liquor Laws of the United States, p. 20.

[346] Ibid.

[347] Ibid., p. 22.

[348] Liquor Laws of the United States, p. 131. It is right to mention that the publication from which these particulars are taken was issued in 1877, since which time no doubt many changes have taken place in the liquor legislation of the various States, but these the author has been unable to learn from trustworthy sources. The tendency of legislation seems to be towards “local option” or “permissive prohibition.”

[349] Greater Britain, vol. i. p. 202. By C. W. Dilke. Macmillan.

[350] Prohibitory Legislation, &c. “Fortnightly Review,” Aug. 1871, p. 166.

[351] This was, of course, some years after Mr. M’Carthy’s visit.

[352] Vide Third Report of the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, pp. 211, 212. Evidence of Professor Leone Levi, where the essential part of the Consul’s report is given.

[353] Mr Caine says that he has seen Boston under prohibition with nine hundred drink-sellers deliberately inserting in the Boston Directory their names and addresses as drink-sellers, and a far greater number openly defying the law. He, however, favours “prohibition by local option.”

[354] Reports on the Subject of a License Law, by a Joint Special Committee of the Legislature of Massachusetts. Boston: Wright & Potter, 1867. The author is indebted to the Secretary of State of Massachusetts for this and other valuable printed reports on the subject of the liquor traffic in that State.

[355] Reports on the Subject of a License Law, &c., p. 16.

[356] In his book on the German working man, the author of this treatise said (p. 109), “Beer” (meaning the German beer), “means sobriety; wine and spirits mean intoxication.”

[357] Liquor Laws, p. 26.

[358] Boston: Wright & Potter.

[359] Report of Governor’s Address, p. 54. The circumstances are, however, we hope, different in the two countries, otherwise there is a poor chance for the American bill. According to the Third Report of the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, p. 195 (Mr. Patterson’s evidence), in Liverpool, the town most in need of temperance reform, the aldermen, who in the U.S.A. decide the question of granting licenses, have in their body, besides a large wine and spirit merchant, two publicans who occupy between them from sixty-four to eighty-four public-houses.

[360] Governor’s Address, p. 57.

[361] Governor’s Address, p. 58.

[362] The Maine Law Vindicated, p. 7.

[363] Prohibitory Legislation, p. 174.

[364] Ibid., p. 176.

[365] Ibid., p. 169.

[366] The Americans at Home, vol. ii. p. 315.

[367] Third Report of the Lords’ Committee on Intemperance, p. 3; Evidence of Rev. R. M. Grier.

[368] The Great Country, by George Rose, M.A. (Arthur Sketchley), Tinsley. A very graphic account of a visit to an inebriate asylum, extracted from the “Atlantic Monthly,” will be found in this work, pp. 385-401.

[369] Alcohol, its Place and Power, pp. 46-109, &c. Glasgow: Scottish Temperance League.

[370] Dr. Anstie’s two works, “Stimulants and Narcotics,” and “The Use of Wines in Health and Disease.” See Also Dr. T. P. Lucas on “The True Action and Physiological Results of Alcohol,” pp. 140, 141 (a strong temperance work); “On Chronic Alcoholic Intoxication,” p. 9, by W. Marcet, M.D., F.R.S. (Churchill); “The Effects of Alcohol on the Nervous System,” by Dr. Hammond in “The Psychological and Medico-Legal Journal,” July 1874, New York. The records of discussions amongst guardians of the poor where objection has been made to the use of beer as an article of diet also tend in the same direction. At a recent meeting of the West Derby Board, for example, the medical officers, one of whom is a total abstainer, distinctly expressed their determination to continue administering alcohol as a medicine.

[371] See the Report of the Temperance Hospital, “Daily News,” May 31, 1878.

[372] Richardson’s Researches on Alcohol, p. 6.

[373] Miller’s Alcohol, its Place and Power, p. 92.

[374] Pope’s Homer’s Odyssey, book ix.

[375] Tom Moore.

[376] Anstie, Uses of Wine in Health and Disease, p. 11.

[377] Ibid., p. 40.

[378] Morewood, p. 339.

[379] Rev. D. Burns, to whom the author is indebted for some of these particulars.

[380] Morewood, p. 340.

[381] Ibid., p. 341.

[382] Third Report, p. 25, Q. 8242.

[383] Readers who are desirous of pursuing the question of temperance societies will find a vast amount of information in Graham’s “Temperance Guide.” London: Pitman, &c.

[384] Speech of the Duke of Westminster, Free Trade Hall, Manchester.

[385] The Licensing Act 1872, Section 13.

[386] Report of the Liverpool Police, 1877.

[387] See especially the evidence of Mr. Robinson (Chief Constructor), Second Report p. 117.

	PAGE
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY—INSTINCTIVE TENDENCIES IN MAN AND THE LOWER ANIMALS—DRINKING PROPENSITIES OF SAVAGES—PRE-HISTORIC TRACES,	1
CHAPTER II.
THE THREE SUBDIVISIONS OF THE HUMAN FAMILY—THE TURANIAN BRANCH—ANCIENT CHINA—BUDDHIST LAWS CONCERNING DRINK—MODERN CHINA,	15
CHAPTER III.
THE DRINKING HABITS OF THE ARYAN RACES OF INDIA—THE VEDAS AND BRAHMINICAL LITERATURE—MODERN INDIA,	34
CHAPTER IV.
THE ZEND-AVESTA AND THE FOLLOWERS OF ZOROASTER—THE MODERN PERSIANS—MOHAMMEDAN LAW CONCERNING DRINK AND DRINKING PRACTICES—THE PARSEES OF INDIA,	49[xiv]
CHAPTER V.
THE ANCIENT HEBREWS—THE SCRIPTURE CONTROVERSY CONCERNING DRINK—THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE TALMUD—THE NEW TESTAMENT—JESUS CHRIST—JOHN THE BAPTIST—ST. PAUL—THE MODERN HEBREWS,	59
CHAPTER VI.
ANCIENT EGYPT,	72
CHAPTER VII.
THE DRINKING CUSTOMS OF ANCIENT GREECE AND ROME,	77
CHAPTER VIII.
GERMANY, ANCIENT, MEDIÆVAL, AND MODERN,	102
CHAPTER IX.
ENGLAND, PAST AND PRESENT, LAY AND CLERICAL—THE ANGLO-SAXONS AND DANES—THE NORMANS AND EARLY ENGLISH,	118
CHAPTER X.
ENGLAND FROM THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY DOWN TO THE TIME OF THE REFORMATION,	134
CHAPTER XI.
ENGLAND FROM THE REFORMATION TO THE PRESENT DAY,	147[xv]
CHAPTER XII.
THE ENGLISH OF THE PRESENT DAY—THE ARISTOCRACY—THE MIDDLE CLASSES—THE INDUSTRIAL CLASSES—FARM LABOURERS—THE RESORTS OF DRUNKARDS,	169
CHAPTER XIII.
SWEDEN AND ITS LICENSING SYSTEM,	194
CHAPTER XIV.
AMERICA—THE CREOLES AND INDIANS OF THE RIVER PLATE—THE UNITED STATES DURING THE FIRST HALF OF THIS CENTURY—THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS—DRINKING IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE PRESENT TIME—LICENSING AND PROHIBITORY LEGISLATION—THE MAINE LIQUOR LAW—ITS OPERATION AND PARTIAL FAILURE—PERMISSIVE LEGISLATION—INEBRIATE ASYLUMS,	201
CHAPTER XV.
THE CAUSES OF INTEMPERANCE—MODERATE DRINKING—REMEDIES FOR INTEMPERANCE—THE POLITICAL ASPECT OF THE QUESTION,	229
CHAPTER XVI.
RETROSPECT—CONCLUSION,	257
INDEX,	265

417	Bakers and confectioners.
5,468	Domestic servants.
61,298	Bankers, brokers, and merchants.
5,656	Priests.[58]
11,028	Writers and accountants, about one-half of whom are in Government employ.
127	Vagrants.
826	Tavern-keepers.
5,227	Liquor sellers, distillers, and palm-wine drawers.

Clergymen and priests,	None.
Merchants and brokers,	13
Professional men of all kinds—architects, artists, surgeons, &c.,	43
Shopkeepers (including 12 publicans),	194
Clerks and agents,	175
All skilled artisans, including engineers, mechanics, joiners, masons, printers, &c.,	1010
Coachmen, carmen, and carters,	342
Sailors,	894
Porters and dock labourers,	3862
All other occupations, and persons of no occupation,	487
	7020

In 1833, with an estimated population of	1,579,525
there were	29,880	apprehensions for drunkenness,
		or 18.917 per 1000.
In 1834, with an estimated population of	1,607,350
there were only	19,779	apprehensions,
		or 12.305 per 1000.
In 1876, with an estimated population of	4,211,607
there were	32,328	apprehensions,
		or 7.676 per 1000.

In the year 1857, with an estimated population of	416,119,
the number of persons proceeded against for drunkenness was	11,439,	or 2.75 per 100.
In the year 1877, with an estimated population of	519,505
the number proceeded against for drunkenness was	15,736,	or 3.02 per 100.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The history of drink

PREFACE.

CONTENTS.

ERRATA.

THE HISTORY OF DRINK.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

FOOTNOTES

INDEX.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

Port,	438	bottles.
Lisbon,	220	”
Madeira,	90	”
Claret,	168	”
Champagne,	143	”
Burgundy,	116	”
Malmsey or sack,	4	”
Brandy,	4	”
Hock,	66	”
Grand total,	1249	bottles.

In 1866, the estimated population was	295,995.
The arrests for drunkenness were only	1,357,	or 0.45 per cent.
And in 1877, the estimated population was	380,787,
and the arrests for drunkenness,	3,727,	or 0.9 per cent.

6 A.M. on week-days was	1586,	or less than one-fifth.
At 7 A.M.,	6505,	or more than four-fifths.
Of closing at 11 P.M.,	1724,	or about one-fifth.
Of closing at 10 P.M.,	6372,	or about four-fifths.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The history of drink

PREFACE.

CONTENTS.

ERRATA.

THE HISTORY OF DRINK.

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

FOOTNOTES

INDEX.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.