St Nicotine of the Peace Pipe

by Edward Vincent Heward

But what shall be said of the young man whose downy lip bears testimony to his approaching majority—the age when life is a romance and the future aglow with roseate dreams? He knows himself to be the hope and pride of his parents, that in him is centred all sorts of brilliant possibilities. Nothing could be more fitting, he thinks, than that he should proclaim to the world that he is now a man by airing the park with his first cigar. And who so heartless as to say him nay? He now becomes confidential with the tobacconist, and learns from him the names of the choicest brands, as the Vegueras, the kind specially prepared for the Prince of Wales, selected from the finest growths of the plant raised in the Veulto Abajo district of Cuba, as well as the outer signs of many another rich and rare leaf from the gardens of the Queen of the Antilles, or from the plantations of the Indian Archipelago. By-and-by his whole energies will be devoted to the service of his king and country, doing the world’s roughest work away out in the wilds of Africa, or administering justice, it may be, among lawless tribes in Imperial India; and many a time, when belated on a desolate track with nothing to cover him but a blanket borrowed from his trusty peon, he will draw from the recesses of a deep pocket or knapsack a homely briar-root with more real pleasure than he ever felt when smoking the choicest cigar on the Mall.

The temperament of each individual or of a race is an important factor in a judicious consideration of the subject; it opens out a field of inquiry of no ordinary interest, more particularly as regards eastern nations. By temperament physiologists mean certain physical and mental characteristics arising from the predominant humours of the body. Galen in the second century was perhaps the first to employ the term to designate, according to the teachings of the old school, the condition of the four elements of the body—the blood, choler, phlegm, gall—and the varying combinations of these, recognised to-day as the sanguine, lymphatic, nervous, or bilious temperaments. Interest in this aspect of the subject is heightened when we consider the marvellous effect the consumption of tobacco has had on races inhabiting Western Asia. Speaking on this curious point in the Indian Section of the Imperial Institute in February, 1896, Sir George Birdwood called attention to the change wrought in the character of the Turks by its use. He remarked that

in ancient times the Scythians were a ceaseless scourge to the neighbouring nations; that they were referred to by the prophet Jeremiah as a ‘seething caldron,’ ever boiling over in fierce and cruel eruptions from the North. Where are they now? They have become the modern Turks; and the magic which changed them from restless, destructive nomads into the quiet and only too conservative sedentary Turks, Von Moltke tells us in his Letters from Turkey was none other than the acquired American habit of smoking tobacco.

Coming from so profound an observer of men as the great German strategist, this testimony to the influence of the Indian weed on human character is to be accepted as a valuable contribution to our knowledge. And yet, viewed in the light of recent events in Turkey, the marvellous transformation mentioned would seem to be hardly yet completed. Besides, may not other influences tending to modify the character of the Turks be found in their four centuries of intermarriage with tribes of a less turbulent disposition, as with Persians and Circassians, than the fiery, stubborn mountaineers from whom they had descended? It seems but reasonable to think so. Let us hasten, however, to note that other distinguished travellers in Turkey speak to the same effect, and that they, too, attribute the change to the sobering and soothing action of tobacco upon them. Dr. Madden, whose Travels in Turkey and Egypt were published in 1829, says (i. 16) that

the pleasure the Turks had in the reverie consequent on the indulgence in the pipe consisted in a contemporary annihilation of thought. The people really cease to think when they have been long smoking. I have asked Turks repeatedly what they have been thinking of during their long reveries, and they replied ‘Of nothing.’ I could not remind them of a single idea having occupied their minds; and in the consideration of the Turkish character there is no more curious circumstance connected with their moral condition.

Further testimony to Nicotiana’s benign sway over human character is borne by Mr. E. W. Lane, the talented translator of the Arabian Nights and author of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians. In this latter work Mr. Lane says that

in the character of the Turks and Arabs who have become addicted to its use it has induced considerable changes, particularly rendering them more inactive than they were in earlier times, leading them to waste over the pipe many hours which might be more profitably employed; but it has had another and better effect—that of superseding in a great measure the use of wine, which, to say the least, is very injurious to the health of the inhabitants of hot climates.… It may further be remarked in the way of apology for the pipe, as employed by the Turks and Arabs, that the mild kinds of tobacco generally used by them have a gentle effect; they calm the nervous system, and, instead of stupefying, sharpen the intellect.

He next pays a high tribute to the Oriental method of smoking, and assures the reader that the pleasures of Eastern society are considerably enhanced by the use of the pipe, adding, ‘It affords the peasant, too, a cheap and sober refreshment, and probably often restrains him from less innocent indulgences.’ Mr. Layard and Mr. Crawfurd, whose large experience of Eastern peoples is known to the world, have each recorded his opinion to the effect that the use of tobacco has contributed very much towards the present sobriety of Asiatics. The presence of an array of witnesses such as these to the power of the pipe to subdue the savage breast naturally suggests the thought of a new field of operations for its use. That laudable organisation, the Peace Society, which seeks to combat man’s militant instincts by such persuasions as fall short of the shillelagh, ought certainly to find in the Indian’s peace-pipe with a well-filled tobacco-pouch a coadjutor for the propagation of its amiable doctrines; at any rate, a pioneer that would prepare the soil for the seed and the advent of the millennium. Lord Clarendon, when Minister of Foreign Affairs, used to excuse his room reeking with the fumes of tobacco by declaring that diplomacy itself was a mere question of the judicious application of tobacco between opposing plenipotentiaries. The pipe, indeed, has always been recognised as a good diplomatist. If you want time to consider well before committing yourself to an answer you find that the pipe won’t draw, though you puff and puff; then, having gained time and cleared your thoughts, the pipe mends, a cloud is formed, and out of chaos comes light, and now you are ready with your argument, though you may begin with, ‘your pardon, friend, but what were we talking about?’ If diplomacy can be soothed and led out of thorny paths into pleasant ways, then assuredly a useful career awaits the weed in the House, where the magic of its suasive breath would subdue a bellicose Parliament into easy complaisance, and so confer an inestimable blessing on a weary Legislature.

But it would be well to take a closer view of this marvellous weed which enters so largely into our domestic economy, dipping into our purses, affecting in some measure our health and habits, in a way, too, that leads people to think that surely a mischief-loving Puck lurks among its alluring leaves, delighting to send its votaries, some into dreams of Elysium, others into visions of—another place. Nicotiana, the name science has bestowed on the plant in recognition of the services of Jean Nicot in spreading a knowledge of it over Europe, more particularly as regards its supposed medicinal properties, is a member of a large and varied family of the natural order Solanacæ, one of the largest genera, containing about 900 species. The whole family is more or less suspicious; some members are decidedly bad, as, for example, the deadly nightshade, henbane, and mandrake, evil names which startle the timorous and all self-respecting people. Relief, however, comes, and confidence is restored, when we learn that linked with Nicotiana as twin sister is our old and esteemed favourite the potato, whose humble services to hungry humanity are incalculable. Yet out of the leaves and fruit of this useful and innocent member of the family chemists extract a deadly poison called solanine, which they describe as an acrid narcotic poison, two grains of which given to a rabbit caused paralysis of the posterior extremities, and death in two hours. Traces of this poison are also found in healthy tubers. And yet nobody was ever poisoned by eating potatoes; far from this, many in times of scarcity have died for want of them. Considering these things, smokers may possibly comfort themselves with the thought that tobacco does not stand alone in evil repute, that even a vegetable which enters so largely into the composition of humanity as does the potato contains a portion—an infinitesimal portion it is true, but still some portion—of the element of evil which seems to permeate more or less all things earthly. But let them reserve their judgment until the evidence of the chemist has been heard. It may be urged, too, that the highly prized virtues of the tomato, a family connection, might be taken into account in estimating the sins of the shady ones. The love-apple of Eris, far from creating discord, gives unalloyed pleasure, affording the epicure a gastronomic delight.