There is universal agreement on that point; in fact, the agreement as
to the evils of intemperance is almost as universal as the conviction
that politicians will do nothing practical to interfere with them.
In Ireland, Mr. Justice Fitzgerald says that intemperance leads to
nineteen-twentieths of the crime in that country, but no one proposes a
Coercion Act to deal with that evil. In England, the judges all say
the same thing. Of course it is a mistake to assume that a murder, for
instance, would never be committed by sober men, because murderers in
most cases prime themselves for their deadly work by a glass of Dutch
courage. But the facility of securing a reinforcement of passion
undoubtedly tends to render always dangerous, and sometimes
irresistible, the temptation to violate the laws of God and man.

Mere lectures against the evil habit are, however, of no avail.
We have to recognise, that the gin-palace, like many other evils,
although a poisonous, is still a natural outgrowth of our social
conditions. The tap-room in many cases is the poor man's only parlour.
Many a man takes to beer, not from the love of beer, but from a natural
craving for the light, warmth, company, and comfort which is thrown in
along with the beer, and which he cannot get excepting by buying beer.
Reformers will never get rid of the drink shop until they can outbid it
in the subsidiary attractions which it offers to its customers.
Then, again, let us never forget that the temptation to drink is
strongest when want is sharpest and misery the most acute. A well-fed
man is not driven to drink by the craving that torments the hungry; and
the comfortable do not crave for the boon of forgetfulness. Gin is the
only Lethe of the miserable. The foul and poisoned air of the dens in
which thousands live predisposes to a longing for stimulant.
Fresh air, with its oxygen and its ozone, being lacking, a man supplies
the want with spirit. After a time the longing for drink becomes a