But they also have erred through wine
“Swallowed up of wine”
This is how all debasement continues, aggravates itself, and brings itself to shameful issue.
No man begins at the point of being swallowed up in any evil: he approaches it almost stealthily, he touches it experimentally, he retains for a certain time his self-control in relation to it,--he will handle it, but easily, so that he can set it down again should it so please him. But at the end there is swallowing up, destruction--death is in the cup, and death must be drunk up by those who put their lips to the forbidden vessel. When Edward IV condemned his own brother, George Duke of Clarence, to be killed, we are told that the duke desired to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey, and the historian well adds, “as became so stout a drunkard.” To this end may men come who never dreamed of coming to it, who meant to show the world how easy it would be to toy with the devil, to touch him, set him back, smile at him, laugh at him, use him as a dog, bind him as a slave; and to all these initial usages will the devil submit himself, knowing that at some fatal unsuspected moment he will lasso the man who supposes he can take him captive, and he will carry him away to the chambers of death. (J. Parker, D. D.)
Erred through wine
Preaching in London, the Rev. Egerton Young, so long a missionary to the Hudson Bay Indians, said he would like to bring some of his converts to this land, but he dared not until the temperance cause was more advanced. One native preacher had been brought over, but kind friends thought that he required a little stimulant after the fatigue of the meeting, and the poor Indian had gone back with such a taste for spirits that he had to be expelled from his office, and finally died a drunken outcast. (Australian Sunday School Teacher.)
Intemperance a pestilence
No pestilence has ever destroyed so many millions of men, women, and children as intemperance; for a pestilence comes and goes, and often at long intervals, but intemperance is a fixed and permanent plague, always spreading, and always destroying our people, body and soul. (Cardinal Manning.)
Intemperance a peril to national life
On the east coast of our country the sea has been encroaching for centuries. Acre after acre of corn land has tumbled down into the waves, and churches, threatened by every high tide, are pointed out which, at the time of their erection, stood a mile from the sea. And by a similar process of encroachment and destruction fruitful sections of our national life are broken down and churned in the raging flood of this terrible curse, and places are not unknown in which the very church itself threatens to topple into ignominy and ruin. (T. G. Selby.)
Drunkenness degrades
Dr. Louis A. Banks tells how a drunkard in New Orleans was reformed. A friend of his, who was a stenographer, sat down in a corner of the saloon in which he was carousing, and made a full shorthand report of every word he said. The next morning the stenographer copied the whole thing neatly and sent it round to his office. In less than ten minutes he came tearing with his eyes fairly standing out of their sockets. “Great heavens,” he gasped, “what is this?” “It’s a stenographic report of your monologue at the restaurant last evening,” and gave him a brief explanation. “Did I really talk like that?” he asked faintly. “I assure you it is an absolutely verbatim report,” was the reply. He turned pale and walked out. He never drank another drop. (Christian Age.)
The degradation of drunkenness
It is told by Victor Hugo that in the capital of Burgundy the corporation had four silver goblets. When a prince or any distinguished person passed through their city they were offered wine in these silver goblets. The wine of Burgundy is very famous, but the people knew not only its merits, but its dangers. On the first goblet was inscribed a monkey, on the second a lion, on the third a sheep, and on the fourth a swine. This meant to denote the degrees of drunkenness which their wine produced. (G. H. Morrison, M. A.)