favour, when—O Heaven and Finsbury!—
we come upon a Drunkery! Here is
absolutely a tent, unblushingly holding itself out
to mankind as The Morpeth Castle:—too
obviously an offshoot of the Morpeth Castle
Tavern, which is to be observed defiantly
flying its flag outside the park yonder!
Beer is being consumed here: not only by
cricketers, but by spectators, and the
feelings of Tee-Total players are in course of
being outraged frightfully. Yet somehow
nobody gets drunk. Do we not know on
the best authority that these people ought
to do what they ought not to do? Say,
Finsbury! And yet, Finsbury, they don't,
and they won't.

But a canvas Drunkery is not what we
seek. Our more substantial Drunkery must
be sought elsewhere.

At the other end of the park is a lake,
studded with small islands, on whose placid
waters the athletic youth of the
neighbourhood pursue the sport of rowing.
It is a tranquil spot, pleasantly shaded
with trees, and made as much of as possible
by the landscape gardener's art; so that,
though in reality but a pond, it seems a lake
of fair proportions. On its otherwise virtuous
banks, is the Drunkery. It looks a
modest building enough, and is a very, a
very, little Drunkery. At present it has not
arrived at any distinct position in the world,
inasmuch as it has been made the subject of
a small trade "dodge." A licence cannot be
granted to its lessee until it has been rated
for the relief of the poor. The local vestry—
whether inspired by a regard for the feelings
of Tee-Totallers, or, which is much more
likely, the interests of the publicans near the
park—has refused the application for
assessment, and so, for the moment, private
interests stand in the way of a public
accommodation.

If the exterior of this Drunkery be inoffensive,
its interior is even more so. It is quite
clear that bar drinking is not the object here.
There is a sufficiency of chairs, and little
tables (doubtless considered un-English by
the neighbouring publicans), and there can
be no doubt of the correctness of Mr. Layard's
declaration that the place is intended
for the rational entertainment of respectable
people. The guarantees for the proper
conduct of the place, and for the due
observance of the First Commissioner's
regulations, are two; one, is the power that
the Commissioner possesses of turning out
the lessee if any improprieties be permitted;
the other, is the well-known respectability
of the existing lessee: who has filled most
of the chief offices of the Licensed Victuallers'
Society, and against whom even the
opponents of the Drunkery have not a word
to say.

On the other side of the water is a sort
of arcade, now devoted to the sale, by the
wife of a park constable, of ginger beer,
biscuits, nuts, and similar mild articles.
Even this humble refreshment-room has
been objected to by the landlord of a public-
house at the park gates, as injurious to his
business! (Notice, Finsbury, how needful
it is that the little model yacht, The Alderman,
on the lake yonder, should trim its
sails and manage its tiller so as to keep off
both shores!)

Mr. Layard will be too strong in the long
run for the disinterested opponents he has
had to encounter. The combination of
publicans and saints is novel; but, as the temper
of the House of Commons was clearly
with him, and not with Finsbury, so the
common sense and the sense of justice of
the public will be with him too.

To the Tee-Totallers (of whom the shining
light of Finsbury is not one, though so
keenly considerate of their feelings) we
commend, in conclusion, without loss of
temper, a passage from an Address, very
famous in America, of GOVERNOR ANDREW,
of the State of Massachusetts:

"Do you tell me that these arguments
have a tendency indirectly to encourage
and defend useless and harmful drinking,
and that silence would have been better—
for the sake of a great and holy cause?

"Do you suppose that the people of
every class and persuasion—taught by
professors and practitioners of medical
science of every school to take wines and
beer as tonics, and restoratives, and as part
of their diet, in illness, in age, or on
occasions of physical depression—will, in their
hearts, believe your declaration that they
are essentially and characteristically
poisonous? Do you think that the children at
our firesides will believe that the Apostle
was a perverter when, instead of
commanding total abstinence, he enjoined
freedom from excess of wine? Do you
imagine they will forget, that he who made
the best wine which the guests enjoyed at
the marriage feast in Galilee (because He
came 'eating and drinking' while John
the Baptist was a Nazarite and drank no
wine) was aspersed by the Jewish Pharisees
as a 'wine-bibber and a friend of
publicans and sinners'?

"The people and the children are not
blind to the inconsistencies and sophistries