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these 348,000 persons in case their trades are suppressed and their sources of subsistence dried up. The new social organization can instantly utilize them; but how will they fare in old society? Shall they be sacrificed for the common good? Great and legitimate is the universal outcry against drunkenness in this country, and everyone, even the drunkards themselves, join the various temperance, abstinence, and teetotal organizations in their constant and earnest advocacy of the suppression of this great vice; which, in this very year of enlightenment, progress, and civilization, is capable of debasing human nature into the lowest depth of degradation and misery; as is strikingly seen from the following description extracted from a correspondence in the Daily News of Saturday, October 3rd, 1874:-"King Work rules in Glasgow for five days, but the Saturday half-holiday ushers in the interregnum of King Whisky. Although it is not yet five o'clock, the growing sway of the drink-tyrant is everywhere apparent. The great dramshop at the foot of the Irongate is in full blaze. The room on the first floor swarms so with men, women, and children, that to one looking up from below it seems as if they are absolutely stacked up against the windows. Below, panting barmen, toiling in their shirt sleeves, attest by their breathlessness that the draught is emphatically quick. It is not easy to squeeze one's way into the throng of drinkers in the public bar, consisting of frowsy men, slatternly women, ragged, stockingless, palid-faced, preternaturally quick-eyed children. This, you see, is the public drinking, the coram populo saturnalia of those who care not who sees. Yonder, behind the wainscoted partitions, are the shut-in boxes, the drinking pens of Scotland, the private niches at the counter, where canny folk sit and soak without being seen of men. These boxes are the haunts of respectable married women,' who would on no account be seen drinking at the public bar. Here are two coming out, with sodden faces and maudlin eyes. They quarrel at their own close mouth, and one claims, with a tipsy oath, her superiority over her less permanently biblical sister in that she 'was in a Bible-class for ten years.' As we saunter up the Irongate we are jostled at every step by people 'stoitering' along in the stolidly locomotive stage of drunkenness; who are not brutal or quarrelsome, or indeed apologetic, but who accept

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their successive collisions with a half smile of vague abstraction complicated by hiccup. At a casual glance the entrance to each close appears flanked by caryatides, which, however on close inspection resolve themselves into human beings, who are cautious with a truly Scottish caution, who have realized that they have reached a state in which their legs are adequate no more for locomotion, but only for a modified and, so to speak, auxiliary support, and who lean accordingly on the sure support of the angle of the wall. The successive stages of the miserable gradus and diabolism which I watched as day merged into damp twilight, and twilight deepened into moist unwholesome night, might weary, and still more probably might disgust, your readers. There is a certain sameness in seeing men and women tumbling neat whisky down their throats, others tumbling in the gutters, and yet others lying there. Suppose we have a look at the Central Police Station. Eleven o'clock has just struck. Has there been a battle close by, and are these stalwart policemen who, marching by twos, converge so numerously on the police station, each pair with their seemingly inanimate burden, members of the burial party charged with the disposal of the dead into one common grave? There is a ghastliness to you and me about the work, but to the collectors of this human carrion themselves custom has brought familiarity. For a Saturday night there's hardly an average crop,' remarks a sergeant, as if drunken Glasgow were a farm, and Saturday night the season for the ripening of its chief harvest. Suppose we have a look at the barn in which is housed the crop of the plentifulness of which the sergeant has spoken thus depreciatingly. We ascend a broad winding stair, and passing through an iron grating on the first floor, are shown cell No. 1. The cells of the Glasgow Police Station have to be graduated in deference to the various phases of Glasgow drunkenness. There are the 'drunk cells,' the 'mad drunk cells,' the 'dead drunk cells,' and the 'dead cell.' It was a 'dead drunk cell,' the one we visited on the first floor. There was a huge blazing fire, guarded by iron bars, outside which the body of the cell was mainly occupied by a sloping wooden bed, on which two comatose men were being slowly roasted back into consciousness. The fire is for the behoof of creatures so far gone that it seems dangerous to put

them into a cold cell. But the fire and its guard have dangers of their own to those sufferers from slow returning lucidity of perception. Not long ago a man incarcerated in this cell, and prematurely restored to a measure of consciousness, crawled to the bars, got his head through, and was half roasted, half strangled, to death. Ascending to the second floor we enter, through a grating, a corridor which we find strongly patrolled, and are informed, in explanation, that two extra men are placed on duty here on Saturday night to watch that the prisoners don't fight or choke themselves. This corridor contains numerous cells of various sizes. This central station, it should have been said, has accommodation for over 400 prisoners. The turnkey opens cell No. 1, throwing his light into it. The floor is littered with five recumbent motionless forms, which might be those of swine or of men, for aught the spectator can distinguish, but that the material lying about is that of humanity, and become dimly apparent because of a groan or two and a muttered curse which vary the monotony of the gruntings and stupor. The next cell presents an aspect like that of the miscellaneous grave of a battlefield. The heap that cumbers its floor is a chaos which vaguely resolves itself into the form of some half-dozen men, but from the confusion of odd limbs it would be rash to affirm that there were not a few more than this number. In the three next cells the scene was mainly a repetition of what has been described; but some of the inmates were too full of oaths and coarse language to sink into the drunken slumber which had overwhelmed their fellows. Then we came to the cells containing the drunken women, who were nearly as numerous as the drunken men. Some lay like dead logs; others had laid aside the larger portion of their clouts, and rampaged' about their cells hideous travesties of womanhood. Wretches of all ages were there: the shrivelled, grey-haired crone, drunken, and most foul-mouthed of all, as she lay so near her grave that one shuddered lest she might die of old age before she could be released; young women, not uncomely spite of their whisky-bleared eyes, bloated faces, and careless rags; babies slumbering the sweet sleep of childhood on the bosoms of mothers whose motherhood and whose decency had been alike drowned in drink. One cell was a pandemonium itself, a pit of raging bedlamites. A woman

yelled blasphemy and obscenity as she swung a babe carelessly in her arms, a girl stripped to the waist shrieked back at her, and an old woman sat crooning a maudlin song on the floor. Another cell resembled the description of the well at Cawnpore, a heap of the not-to-be analysed disjecta membra of womanhood miserable, whose Nana Sahib was whisky. A few steps beyond these 'drunken cells,' and we were in the 'dead cell' itself; a veritable deadhouse, tenanted by three martyrs who had died in the service of their master-the drink. There lay the corpses, stiff, pale, and cold, while the odour of the destroyer still faintly hung about the mortuary. One man had been run over when drunk; a second had been found dead in a court after a debauch; and a third had died in the act of taking more of that of which he had already taken too much. Beyond the dead cell lay the maddrunk cells, each tenanted by a single inmate, whose condition of drunkenness had been frantic and dangerous on admission, and to whom had therefore been assigned quarters in the Bedlam ward of this huge hospital for the votaries of whisky. Leaving this corridor we descended, meeting on the stairs the long unbroken procession of senseless candidates for admission. 'Take care of the wean,' cries somebody, as a woman, who is like a log of wood, but who still mechanically clings to a wretched child, is carried up. God pity the 'wean,' suckled on whisky, dandled in a police cell, matured in a slum! On leaving the police station I spent a couple of hours in the investigation of the inmost penetralia of the Glasgow slums. If it is true that social science must begin at home, it is clear that this first step has not so much as been thought of in the old and new wynds, the hovels and dens of which reek with sights that shock and disgust till the sense of horror, if the nerves are strong enough to stand the strain, become blunted by the fearful monotony of shamelessness and brutality. I wandered from one scene where drinkmaddened women were tearing each other, to another where a drunken husband was mercilessly beating a drunken wife. I stumbled over drunken women littering the foul mud of the closes and common stairs; watched with sad eyes girls of tender years plying their loathsome trade; spent an hour shebeen hunting; and as I walked home sick in the small

hours, passed still men and women prowling wolf-like with stealthy steps about the courts and common stairs on the search for contraband drink which is called whisky, but which is really diluted vitriol."

That there is no exaggeration in the description of these scenes of drunkenness may be proved from the fact that the very same year in which this correspondent visited Glasgow, as many as 30,000 cases of drunkenness were dealt with by the police authorities of that city.

Goldsmiths, Silversmiths, and Jewellers.-The skilled and very often artistic work of these trades will in future be greatly diminished, principally by the circumstance of the actual existence of so much plate and articles of jewellery as will suffice to provide the Associated Homes with an abundance of silver and gold table-service. Of jewellery and precious stones, now possessed by private persons and forming the stock of jewellers' shops and warehouses, a choice will be made by the state in ladies' earrings, bracelets, brooches, hair pins, finger-rings, and other trinkets for occasional use, to which permission will be given by the state to all women.

The superfluous articles of luxury in gold and silver will be melted down and made into serviceable plate.

The author does not despise jewellery when worn occasionally, especially by young women, and he suggests that the state shall for this purpose establish a national ward-robe or treasury, in which diamond earrings, pearl necklaces, and other jewellery will remain deposited, and from whence it will be distributed to young women at the occasion of festivals, at the celebration of coming of age, at the conclusion of marital unions, and at other times which the taste of a modest people will decide, with due consideration for the enjoyment of all. The future social state will in this manner find a means of satisfying that legitimate desire for adornment so universally prevalent in all women; and even the rarity of some jewels-as, for instance, of diamonds and pearls-will be no obstacle to their general distribution, as only a certain small portion of the female population would, at one and the same time, be entitled to wear a modest display of jewellery on some rare and festive occasion, after which other parties would have an equal claim to the use of the same articles of adornment for another short period.

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