Further, it found heathen India sober, and it is doing its best to make it a nation of drunkards like itself, by means of liquor and opium. An Archdeacon who has spent thirty years in India makes the statement that for every convert to Christianity made by the missionaries, the Government makes one thousand drunkards. Another item. The United Kingdom has 330 packs of fox hounds, at a yearly cost of £414,850. The 33,000 riders and 99,000 horses cost £3,500,000, or the whole hunt maintenance at £4,000,000 a year, to keep up a cruel, inhuman, degrading sport. Most likely all who uphold this waste of money and cruelty were confirmed in the church as Christians, and partake regularly of “holy communion” as followers of Jesus, while several millions of their fellow beings go naked and hungry. What a grim satire on profession and practice! While I hate the opium business in India, I cannot but think that with such an appalling record as the above, that the people “at home” would better cleanse their own filthy door-yards before criticising those of India. Would it not be more consistent, more honest, more commendable, if the English people would do away with their greatest curse, their liquor traffic, and look after their paupers, criminals, and the brutally oppressed innocent victims, the wives and children of drunkards, and all this damnable encouragement of vice, before they send out junketing commissions at an enormous expense on the poor, overtaxed serfs of India, to investigate the opium traffic? It is so easy and gratifying for some people to meddle with the affairs of others while they neglect their own, and to condemn those far away, but quite overlooking their own immediate vices and sins. While I was in Glasgow a request was made upon the Provost to call a public meeting to protest against the Tsar of Russia for expelling the “scurvy Jews” who rob and demoralize his people by their usury and promotion of drunkenness, and at the time I was astounded at the poverty and squalor, the numbers of deformed, debauched people, and shocked with the fights and brawls of drunken barelegged women and brutal men on a Saturday afternoon on one of the main streets of that city. Consistency may be a jewel, but it is a very rare one. The people of Great Britain should get it as quickly as possible. It would be of more honor and credit to them than that stolen Kohinur. I spoke to a man near me about the great crowd of poor. He replied, “This is only a handful, only a few drops. Let the degraded poor of all London come out and they would more than fill the whole park.” I asked him about their morality. “Morality,” said he; “they do not know what it means.” And he told me such tales of misery, vice and crime that would make, not only angels, but the very devils, weep to know that humanity had fallen so low.