brandy-bibbers; we laugh at John Ridd, with his few odd gallons of ale
per day; but let any man be seen often in the condition which led to Mr.
Pickwick's little accident, and see what becomes of him. He is soon
shunned like a scabbed sheep. One had better incur penal servitude than
fall into that vice from which the Government derives a huge
revenue--the vice which is ironically associated with friendliness, good
temper, merriment, and all goodly things. There are times when one is
minded to laugh for very bitterness.

And this sin, which begins in kindness and ends always in utter
selfishness--this sin, which pours accursed money into the
Exchequer--this sin, which consigns him who is guilty of it to a doom
worse than servitude or death--this sin is to be fought by Act of
Parliament! On the one hand, there are gentry who say, "Drink is a
dreadful curse, but look at the revenue." On the other hand, there are
those who say, "Drink is a dreadful thing; let us stamp it out by means
of foolscap and printers' ink." Then the neutrals say, "Bother both your
parties. Drink is a capital thing in its place. Why don't you leave it
alone?" Meantime the flower of the earth are being bitterly blighted. It
is the special examples that I like to bring out, so that the jolly lads
who are tempted into such places as the concert-room which I described
may perhaps receive a timely check. It is no use talking to me about
culture, and refinement, and learning, and serious pursuits saving a man
from the devouring fiend; for it happens that the fiend nearly always
clutches the best and brightest and most promising. Intellect alone is
not worth anything as a defensive means against alcohol, and I can
convince anybody of that if he will go with me to a common lodging-house
which we can choose at random. Yes, it is the bright and powerful
intellects that catch the rot first in too many cases, and that is why I
smile at the notion of mere book-learning making us any better. If I