Now let us turn to the vast army of people who are worth while, but who, nevertheless, have, through mistakes common to our society, become victims of the alcoholic habit. It would almost seem that the incurables among alcoholics have received more consideration from the kindly minded, and even from the scientifically inclined, than have the curables. The curable among alcoholics are intense and pitiable sufferers. They have never had real help. They have been penalized. The poor among them have been colonized in harmful state institutions by the public authorities; the rich among them have been placed in equally harmful private institutions by their relatives and friends. The alcoholic who is punished by incarceration in a cell is harmed, not helped, by it; the man who, on the mythical chance of reform is shunted off to a state establishment, or who is sent by prosperous friends to board at some expensive sanatorium, stands to lose, not gain, by his experience. These methods merely beg the question. They recognize the drunkard as a liability and put him out of sight; they do nothing toward his real regeneration. The inebriates' farm is based on the same utter misconception as the fashionable sanatorium to which the rich man's son may be committed. An intelligent handling of this subject would close or entirely reform ninety-nine per cent. of the public institutions devoted to the care of inebriates, and would depopulate one half of the sanatoriums between the Atlantic and the Pacific. To put a poor man to sober up on a farm where the State will pay his board and expect him not to become an active menace to society as soon as the period of his sequestration comes to an end is no more foolish than to put the rich man's son into a private institution where he will be petted, coddled, and retained at the highest rates as long as possible, and from which he will be eventually permitted to return to his old haunts freed from the immediate physical discomforts of his past alcoholism and therefore provided with a fresh capacity for strong drink and rejuvenated powers for evil-doing. Placing a drunken young man in a sanatorium where some one will pay his board while he lives in utter idleness is certain not to correct, but to complete, the evil work which has been started in him; and thus in many cases the very means adopted by friends and parents for the benefit of those they love are likely to increase rather than to decrease their ultimate tendency toward dissipation.