He does not know what it means, and he does not want to know. He flees from it as from something too blood-curdling to look upon. His leaders, his orators, his editors, have all told him that no language could fully describe the horrors of “Paternalism”; and therefore he feels that while poverty, slavery, hunger and starvation are sometimes annoying incidents in life, they bear no comparison to the pitiless rigors of “Paternalism.” He has got used to unmerciful taxes, to ill-paid labor, to squalid surroundings, to empty pockets, and to the cry of children hungering for bread. All these discomforts he can stand, because they have come to him in the natural course of events under the rule of Democracy and Republicanism. But the very idea of a new party springing up and practicing “Paternalism” unnerves him. He fears he couldn’t stand it. We had this terror-stricken victim of Democratic bugabooism in mind today when we read the decision of Cleveland’s Attorney-General, to the effect that whisky in a bonded warehouse could not be reached by process from a State Court. Under a law which has stealthily slipped upon the statute-book while the people were not noticing, the producers of distilled liquors get the privilege of storing their “firewater” in a government warehouse and getting a certificate of deposit. The Government takes care of the whisky until the owner feels like paying a tax upon it. Formerly, under an act passed by Republicans and Democrats, this exemption from tax lasted three years. At the last session of Congress the Democrats, out of tender consideration for the poor, downtrodden Whisky Trust, extended this exemption to eight years. The great and good Government of the United States, therefore, steps forward through its officers, and kindly says to the distiller: “Hand me your whisky bottle: I’ll take care of it for you until you get ready to pay your taxes.” Not only does our great and good Government say substantially these very words to the distiller, but it guards his whisky bottle so jealously that no writ or execution or other process from a State Court is allowed to touch the liquor which is thus being held by the Government for the benefit of the owner. Governor Tillman, of South Carolina, tried to bring his power as Chief Magistrate of a sovereign state to bear on some of the whisky which Uncle Sam was taking care of for the Whisky Trust, but the voice of our great and good Government was promptly heard saying, “Keep off the Grass.” Brave Benjamin had to let the whisky alone. The certificate of deposit issued on the liquor by the Government to the distiller becomes at once valuable commercial paper upon which he can get any amount of money he wants. He can go to New York, borrow money on his certificate at 2 per cent., and use it for eight years without difficulty, because the money-lenders have the certificate which shows to them that the Government is taking good care of the whisky all the time.