When the heart of the king was merry with wine.
Intoxication
There is a difference between not being intoxicated and being sober. A person may be able to speak and to walk, and yet may be guilty of excess in the use of strong drink. He may not have lost the use of his senses, and yet have lost the sound use of his senses. He may lose his guard, and expose himself defenceless to the attack of temptation. Reason is the glory of a man, and whatever tarnishes or dims the lustre of this crown is criminal. Next to reason, speech is man’s glory, and everything which causes it to falter is sinful. Whatever makes a man slow to hear, swift to speak, swift to wrath--whatever makes him rash in counsel, and precipitate in action--whatever makes him say or do what is unbecoming his character, and what he would be ashamed of at another time--cometh of evil, and may be the source of great vexation to himself and injury to others. (T. McCrie.)
Drunkenness does not destroy responsibility
The worst effect of the vice of drunkenness is its degrading influence on the conduct and character of men. It robs its victims of self-respect sad manliness and sends them to wallow in the mire with swinish obscenity. What they would not dream of stooping to in their sober moments they revel in with shameless ostentation when their brains are clouded with intoxicating drink. It is no excuse to plead that a drunkard is a madman unaccountable for his actions; he is accountable for having put himself in hie degraded condition. The man who has been foolish enough to launch his boat on the rapids cannot divert its course when he is startled by the thunder of the falls he is approaching; but he should have thought of that before leaving the safety of the shore. (W. F. Adeney, M. A.)
The drunkard’s excuses and the drunkard’s woe
I. The drunkard’s excuses.
1. Good-fellowship. But can friendship be founded on vice; especially on a vice which impairs the memory and the sense of obligation, leads to the betrayal of secrets, and stirs up strife end contention?
2. It drowns care. But the drunkard’s care must arise either from the ill state of his health, the unfortunate position of his worldly affairs, or the stings of a guilty conscience; and in either case his temporary oblivion is purchased at the cost of an aggravation of the evils which cause him to desire it.
II. The drunkard’s woe. This is made up of the miserable effects.
1. Temporal.
(1) Poverty.
(2) Contempt.
(3) Ill-health.
(4) An untimely death.
2. Spiritual.
(1) The understanding is depraved and darkened.
(2) The will is enfeebled and dethroned.
(3) Regard for men, reverence for God, are destroyed.
Drunkenness travels with a whole train of other vices, and requires the whole breadth of the broad way to give it room. (Clapham’s Selected Sermons.)
Afraid of drink
Stonewall Jackson, “Jeb” Stuart, and a large number of the most distinguished of the Confederate officers imitated the example of their chief, and were strict temperance men. Upon one occasion Jackson was suffering so much from fatigue and severe exposure that his surgeon prevailed on him to take a little brandy. He made a very wry face as he swallowed it, and the doctor asked, “Why, general, is not the brandy good? It is some that we have recently captured, and I think it very fine.” “Oh, yes!” was the reply, “it is very good brandy. I like liquor--its taste and its effects--and that is just the reason why I never drink it.” Upon another occasion, after a long ride in a drenching rain, a brother officer insisted upon Jackson’s taking a drink with him; but he firmly replied, “No, sir, I cannot do it. I tell you I am more afraid of King Alcohol than of all the bullets of the enemy.”
The battle with drink
And drink is such a degrading enemy to the intellectual man: the foe is unworthy of his steel. The battle of drink is not like the old contests of chivalry, when knight assailed knight with unblemished shield, and there was such a grace and elegance about the conflict that even defeat was not dishonourable. It is more like a battle with a chimney-sweep falling foul of you, rolling on you his heavy bulk till he has you sprawling in the mud, and so smearing you that you become an object of loathing--to yourself, if you have any sense of shame, and certainly to all who pass by. Could any humiliation be deeper? (G. W. Blaikie.)
The safety of temperance
Suppose there were two lines of railroad; on one of them was an accident regularly once a week, sometimes on one day, and sometimes on another; and on the other there never had been an accident. Suppose your only son wanted to go the journey traversed by the respective lines, and he were to come to you saying, “Which road shall I take, father?” would you dare to tell him to take that upon which the accidents were so frequent, because it was the most fashionable? You would say at once, “Take the safe road, my boy.” And that is just what we temperance folks say. (John B. Gough.)
Wise abstinence
There was a half-witted boy in one of the southern counties of Scotland who was known as an “innocent” or “natural.” Upon one occasion he was enticed into a public-house where a company of young men were drinking. Some of them offered spirits to this supposed simpleton, whereupon he instantly and absolutely refused them, saying, “If the Lord Almighty has given few wits to Daft Davie, He has at least given him sense enough to keep the little that he has!” (Sunday School.)
All’s well that ends well; but wine never ends well. (A. M. Symington, B. A.)