We all know the keen old saying about the man who makes two
blades of grass grow where one grew before. How much more worthy of
thankfulness is the man who gives us a harmless, devout citizen in place
of a ruffian, a hale and capable seaman in place of an agonized cripple,
a quiet abstainer in place of a dangerous debauchee, a seemly
well-spoken friend of society in place of a foul-mouthed enemy of
society? Up till very recent years the fishermen were a rather debauched
set, and those who had money or material to barter for liquor could very
easily indulge their taste. Sneaking vessels--floating grogshops--crept
about among the fleets, and an exhausted fisherman could soon obtain
enough fiery brandy to make him senseless and useless. The foreigners
could bring out cheap tobacco, and the men usually went on board for the
tobacco alone. But the shining bottles were there, the sharp scent of
the alcohol appealed to the jaded nerves of men who felt the tedium of
the sea, and thus a villainous agency obtained a terrible degree of
power. I have, in a pamphlet, explained how the founder of the Mission
contrived to defeat and ruin the foreign liquor trade, and I may do so
again in brief fashion. Our Customs authorities at that date would not
let the Mission vessels take tobacco out of bond, and Mr. Mather was,
for a long time, beaten. But he has a somewhat unusual capacity for
mastering obstacles, and he contrived to sweep the copers off the sea by
the most audacious expedient that I have heard of in the commercial
line.
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