ONE after another of the leading manufacturing and commercial enterprises has been placing the embargo on rum. The railroad companies tell their conductors that the man who drinks is unfit to have charge of a train. They tell their locomotive engineers that their heads must be clear when they sit at the throttle, and therefore they must not drink. In the strenuous affairs of business, the man who drinks soon has to drop out of the race, and hence he is not wanted. It used to be considered that a drunken man, however unfit he might be for business, was nevertheless a good fighter. But the war in Europe is developing the fact, and bringing it prominently before the world, that the drinking man is no good even for fighting. King George, supported by his leading counselors, has reached the conclusion that rum is about as much to be dreaded as the weapons of their enemies. He is announcing to the world that their success in the war must depend in a large measure upon impressing the principles of sobriety upon the subjects of Great Britain. The king and his leading counselors of state have agreed among themselves to banish alcoholic drinks from their own tables and homes, at least until the war is over. France and the other belligerent nations regard drinking in much the same way as does England. Since alcoholic beverages are so bad in times of great stress and war, the reasonable person will recognize that they are equally bad in times of peace. The only consistent thing to do is to place alcoholic drinks under the ban, and to keep them there for all time to come.