# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1849 11 13_S45
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

45

On Drinking Brandy.

Many a brief, forcible, and sagacious saying has been heard concerning the drinking of brandy, yet this saying, if not the best, would surely be one of the next best: Moderation leads to immoderation.

Against this, to be sure, the many examples are urged, that men drink brandy daily all their life long and nevertheless remain moderate all their life long. That is granted; but in return the concession is demanded again: If not all, yet the very most of those who have become immoderate drinkers, were moderate drinkers before; from one glass a day there have become two, three, four glasses, and probably more still, in four and twenty hours (Ebenlied, Etmal,*) says our richer native tongue), for the immoderate man takes the night along with the day. That is the truth.

*) In the Low German dialect it means precisely a space of 24 hours.

To the above saying, Moderation leads to immoderation, we add another, this one: Out of Seldom comes Often. Against this, to be sure, the many examples are urged, that men all their life long make themselves drunk now and then, once every year, every half year, every quarter, once every month, or as some particular outward temptation occurs, and leave it at that, and do it no oftener. That is granted; but in return the concession is demanded again: If not all, yet the very most of those who often get drunk, formerly got drunk seldom, and from once every year, every half year, every quarter, they have made it once every month, every week, once every day, and some twice every day, that is, are always drunk, with the exception of the one half hour, the dreary one, which passes between sleeping it off and the renewed pouring in, during which one cannot call even these drunkards sober. That is the truth.

A certain lady began with a few drops of liqueur at noon after heavy dishes, and left off with drinking rum day and night in bed beside her. In these few words the reader has a long history.

How brandy is made is not our question, but we ask how a man makes himself a drunkard. A third answer is this: Idleness is a teacher of drinking, and inactivity is a school of gluttony. For no man is able to bear the burden of an empty life. And the dancing-revels are the gymnasia for this sin as for other sins.

How brandy is made is not our question, but we ask how a man makes himself a drunkard. A fourth answer is this: Out of boasting. The boy wants to be able to drink like a young fellow, a young man like an old one and like a grown man. The wretched praise, that he can stand a great deal, rings in his ears and is also supposed, among certain people, to mean as much as: he is a proper fellow. A fifth answer: Man would lend wings to his gladness, and would curb his sadness. That also is an immoderation, when the cheerful man, who is so already, wants to be still more cheerful; it is found chiefly in the younger years, but in the later years it is seen more frequently that men want to check their sad thoughts by drink. And indeed, brandy renders the one service like the other, but how!

There is no greater liar in the world than brandy, and the father of all lies, who is such from the beginning, has got in this drink a son, so that in his hell he must rejoice over him, as well as he can.

To the cheerful man it promises an increased cheerfulness, and it keeps its word, for some hours; but then it gives shame, vexation, repentance, and not seldom regret for a deed which can never again be made good. The sorrowful man it helps, but through the gate of a brief joy it leads him into a greater sorrow. The strength drunk in becomes weakness, the riches drunk in make poverty greater, the understanding drunk in washes away what understanding there still was, inasmuch as, even while he supposedly shines brightly, all the sober people round about him, including the children, laugh at the fool and mock him. Alas, one ought to weep over him.

A certain Greek reading-book has at the beginning a sentence which in German runs: To be drunk is to be mad for a short time.

Is it lawful to take one's own life? As little is it lawful to deprive oneself of one's reason.

A baron, John von Schwarzenberg, a man praised by Luther in these words: Look about thee for fine, pious noblemen, such as Lord Hanns von Schwarzenberg; in them refresh and comfort thyself, he often said that he would rather one of his sons were honorably slain, than that, filled so with wine that he could not walk, he should be carried to meet him.

The writer of this once heard a brandy distiller say of his product: Would that the invention might soon be made of burning the spirit as oil! For it is better to pour it into the lamps than into the stomachs; from the one he made the house bright, from the other he makes the house dark.

Yea verily, the figure and bearing of a drunkard, namely the brownish-red face, the bleared eyes, the heavy tongue, the foolish stuff he speaks, his hoarse voice, his reeling gait, ought surely to deter, and the shame as well as the grief which he brings upon his innocent household ought surely to warn, and the observation that out of this hell of thousands scarcely one is delivered ought surely to make men cautious.

But all that is here said of brandy holds good entirely of rum, three-quarters of grog and punch, three-quarters also of tea punch and coffee punch, since that has its home there, and of wine it holds half.

And all that is said, that some persons must absolutely have something spirituous in order to remain healthy and in strength, is false, and what is said of the benefit which moderate drinking would have goes beyond the measure of the truth.

So let it abide by this: Whoever invites a man to drink brandy does something questionable, and whoever tempts a man to get drunk does something evil. Let all people take note of this, especially all tavern-keepers and wives.

Claus Harms.

The Enthusiasts Declare Lutheranism to Be Popery, the Papists, Enthusiasm.

God has so set me, writes Luther, that I must sing my mother's little song: To me and thee no man is kind; that is the fault of us both. I am one of the masters who can do what vexes the people. So the Anabaptists cry: There are two false prophets, the Pope and Luther. Yet Luther is worse than the Pope. So it goes with me: whoever, under the Pope, can make out of Luther the worst fanatic that the sun ever shone upon, has hit it. Again, whoever among the fanatics can make me a twofold papist and worse than the Pope, cannot fail. And yet, had Luther not written, no fanatic would know what the Pope is, and no papist could withstand any fanatic (except with violence, fire, and sword); but my doctrine is the mark, set by God, at which all must shoot. Yet the aim will be missed by them all, and they must make nothing but misses, over and beside the wall, so that every one at last, who looks on, must laugh at them, as the second Psalm declares. (See the Preface to Regius' Refutation of the Confession of the Anabaptists of Münster, of 1535. Works. Hall. Ed. XIV, 324.)

The Martyrdom of Bishop Polycarp.

Polycarp, a disciple of the holy Apostle John, was bishop of the Christian congregation at Smyrna in Asia. Many expositors of Scripture hold that he was that angel of the congregation at Smyrna to whom the letter of the Apostle John, Revelation 2:8-11, is addressed. He administered his office with exemplary faithfulness, showed great zeal to keep and to propagate the Christian doctrine of faith pure and unadulterated, and showed the greatest earnestness and abhorrence toward all heresies which were already current in his time. As often as he heard of new heresies, he sighed: "O gracious God, what times dost thou let me live to see, in which I must hear such things!" His un-