Then the literary men nearly always make the subject of drink attractive
in one way or other. We laugh at Mr. Pickwick and all his gay set of
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.
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