Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/179

 often and  how  many  celebrate  the  feast  of  Bacchus — a double  feast  of  the  first  class,  with  a  vigil  and  an octave — have  we  not  good  cause  to  fear  the  history of Jerusalem's  destruction  will  repeat  itself? The drunkard is  guiltier  than  the  Saviour's  crucifiers,  for they were  irresponsible  fanatics,  but  he  deliberately blinds his  reason  face  to  face  with  sin — "  a  double crime,"  says  Aristotle, deserving  double  punishment," a  crime  once  under  ban  of  excommunication in  the  Church.  Drunkenness  is  such  folly  that,  unlike most  sins,  its  very  motive  is  irrational.  Every  sense will  crave  its  proper  object,  but  that  object  in  excess destroys  the  sense.  The  eye  craves  light,  but  not  the direct  rays  of  the  sun;  the  ear  craves  sound,  but  not the  shock  of  an  explosion;  and  an  overindulged taste  forfeits  its  power  of  enjoyment.  I  will  not  deny, a  little  wine  may  please  and  benefit  betimes,  but  only as  St.  Paul  prescribes:  "  a  little  and  that,  too,  only when necessary  for  the  stomach's  sake  and  one's manifold  infirmities."  There  is  danger  always,  lest, from  small  libations,  one  become  a  too  fervent  worshipper of  Bacchus.  "  Their  God,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  is their  belly."  A  certain  fish  discovered  by  Aristotle has  its  heart  in  its  stomach,  and  is  called  the  sea-donkey.  The  drunkard  shares  the  characteristics  of that  lowly  animal;  his  heart  is  where  his  treasure  is: he  is  lazy,  stupid,  lustful,  and  open  only  to  one  argument— a  club.  He  lacks  the  higher  qualities  of  the brute — a  healthy  appetite  for  water  and  the  power  of judging  when  he  has  enough.  Talk  to  him  of  God and  his  soul — of  the  Mission  or  of  Lent,  and  notwith-