ny of the
causes of poverty and sin are illusive, indefinite qualities such as
bad management, carelessness, laziness, extravagance, ignorance and bad
judgment, which are exceedingly hard to remedy, but the liquor traffic
is one of the things we can speak of definitely, and in removing it we
are taking a step in the direction of giving everybody a fair start.

When the Boer War was on, the British War Office had to lower the
standard for the army because not enough men could be found to measure
up to the previous standard, and an investigation was made into the
causes which had led to the physical deterioration of the race. Ten
families whose parents were both drinkers were compared with ten
families whose parents were both abstainers, and it was found that the
drinking parents had out of their fifty-seven children only ten that
were normal, while the non-drinking parents, out of their sixty-one
children, had fifty-four normal children and only seven that were
abnormal in any way. They chose families in as nearly as possible the
same condition of life and the same scale of intelligence. It would
seem from this that no country which legalizes the liquor traffic is
giving a fair deal to its children!

Humanity is disposed to sit weakly down before anything that has been
with us for a long time, and say it is impossible to do away with it.
"We have always had liquor drinking," say some, "and we always will.
It is deeply rooted in our civilization and in our social customs, and
can never be outlawed entirely." Social customs may change. They have
changed. They will change when enough people want them to change.
There is nothing sacred about a social custom, anyway, that it should
be preserved when we have decided it is of no use to us. Social
customs make an interesting psychological study, even among the lower
animals, who show an almost human respect for the customs of their kind.

Have you ever seen lizards walk into a campfire? Up from the lake they
will come, attracted by the gleam of the fire. It looks so warm and
inviting, and, of course, there is a social custom among lizards to
walk right in, and so they do. The first one goes boldly in, gives a
start of surprise, and then shrivels, but the next one is a real good
sport, and won't desert a friend, so he walks in and shrivels, and the
next one is no piker, so walks in, too. Who would be a stiff? They
stop coming when there are no more lizards in the la