In the following year, 1846, a towns' meeting was held at Liverpool for the purpose of "taking into consideration the measures which should be adopted to procure as speedily as possible a material reduction of the present duty on tea." A resolution was passed declaring the duty of 2_s._ 2_d._ exorbitant, impolitic, and oppressive. In supporting a resolution that a reduction of duty would remove inducements to intemperance and thereby diminish crime, an employer of labour felt assured that if the legislature would cheapen tea, coffee, sugar, and soap, it would give the means of prolonging lives instead of shortening them, and keep a man at his own fireside instead of his going to the tavern, with the ten thousand evils in its train. The speaker, however, caused considerable amusement when he expressed the opinion that if the Irish population could get tea at a cheap rate, they would, to a considerable extent, abandon whisky. Put a cup of tea and a glass of whisky side by side, we venture to say that ninety-nine out of every hundred Irishmen would prefer the whisky. "An Irishman," says Dr. Pope, "was requested by a lady to do some work for her, which he performed to her complete satisfaction. 'Pat,' she said, 'I'll treat you.' 'Heaven bless your honour, ma'am,' says Pat. 'What would you prefer? A pint of porter or a tumbler of grog?' 'Well, ma'am,' says Pat, 'I don't wish to be troublesome, but I'll take the one awhilst you're making the other.'" This is, we fear, a type of the average Irishman, whose love of whisky is the greatest blot upon his character.