An evident proof, if any be wanting, that beings of a pacific disposition are as careless of facing death as those who have served an apprenticeship to it. Once more, taking the most virulent of the medical enemies of smoking, on their own assertions, and supposing people are killed outright by smoking, why should this deter others from practising it? What is more common, than that each year presents us with numerous deaths in every department of recreation, whether riding, sailing, shooting or bathing; and yet we should be surprised to learn that ever it deterred others from following similar pursuits; then, wherefore, on their own shewing, should the harmless happy recreation (that to the poor comprehends all the above amusements) be excepted?—Why, indeed?—O! ye sons of the ‘healing art,’ we throw reason away upon ye, and we have too much reason to fear that the true lights of science are lost to ye for ever, when ye attack that which is so beneficial to man.
The next, and in fact the most excusable of the triumvirate confederacy against smoking and snuff-taking, the former more particularly, that now calls for our attention, are the gentlemen of weak palates. These, first caught by the look of the thing, from perceiving the mild serenity ever attendant upon a smoker, and marking the sententious discourse of wisdom flowing like honey from his lips, have essayed the practice, without effect. At length, finding their nerves could never sustain the delightful fumes, without certain inward admonitions, that were not to be neglected or trifled with, they gave up all thoughts of that, which seemed to make so many happy. Now, nothing is more common in metaphysics, than to know that when a fancy or love is not returned by the object of affection, it generally turns into as great a hatred. Nothing, therefore, is more easily exemplified than the violence of the dislike expressed by this order of ‘tobacco’s foemen.’ Although the efforts of the above, with the exception of an occasional treatise against the pernicious effects of tobacco from the medical department, are confined to oral discussion of the subject; the genial herb has enemies of a more aspiring and determined cast. These parties are not contented with throwing their antipathies on the sympathy of their own friends, but they must even occasionally cast them upon the public in the awful form of a printed sheet. Some of these, though written in a very grave style, are really amusing, and we shall note a couple of them, among many other originals before us, in proof. The first of these is the celebrated Counterblaste by King James the First, written apparently in all the rancour of prejudice, and occupying rather a curious place among his learned works. The second is a tract (published in 1824) entitled, “An Appeal to Humanity, in behalf of the Brethren of the Heathen World: particularly addressed to Snuff-takers and Tobacco-smokers in all Christian Lands.—Second Edition.”
The application and tendency of this most facetious of pamphlets is, neither more nor less, than to induce the world at large to abstain from tobacco and snuff-taking altogether, and bestow the money formerly applied for that purpose, to the promotion of the missionary society to convert our ‘heathen brethren.’
Such is the benevolent object of this barbarian himself—for what else can we, in the indignation that almost overwhelms us at his audacious attempt, call him. When we reflect but for a moment, if he succeeded by the powerful and charitable arguments he uses, the national wealth, powers, and consequences of the kingdom would be undermined. For what, we say, were Englishmen without tobacco?—no more than a Turk without his opium, a Frenchman without his snuff, or any man without an agreeable stimulant to the mind. Had he now only sought to deprive us of a meal in the day, our dinner even, for instance, we could have borne patiently with him; but to seek,—to conceive,—to attempt, banishing one of the most soothing,—sympathising, and truest friends from the mansions of John Bull, is an atrocity we scarcely can credit; did not the identical barbarous proposition glare us in the face in good long-primer. Write of the heathen, indeed! he wants converting himself to a just and proper sense of the darkness in which he walks, or rather we should say, writes, when he could conceive such an enormity. However, after thus premising, we shall allow him an opportunity of speaking for himself.
In the first instance, he states, that he had long seriously thought, that the abuse of tobacco in every form is altogether inconsistent with the grand rule of the inspired volume—“Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.” (I Cor. x. 31.)
After stating what truly astonishing large sums of money are annually expended in tobacco and snuff, he details the following anecdote.
“Travelling some time ago in a stage-coach, an elderly lady and a gentleman sat opposite to me. It was not long before the old gentleman pulled out his snuff-box, and, giving it a tap with his finger as the manner is, asked the lady if she would take a pinch; but she declined. As the lady particularly eyed me, I could scarcely refrain from smiling.—(most facetious!) ‘Perhaps, ma’am, you do not decline taking a pinch, because you think there is any sin in snuff-taking?’ ‘Oh no. I do take snuff: do YOU think there is sin in it, Sir?’ ‘Yes ma’am,’ said I, ‘I think in some cases it is sinful,’ (as cases are in italics we should feel happy to know whether they are of tin or composition he alludes to, but to proceed.) At this, the lady expressed great surprise (as well she might) and would not be satisfied, unless I would assign some reason for thinking that snuff-taking was sinful. At length, for she teazed me, I said to her, ‘Pray ma’am, (cannot he drop the field-preacher and write Madam) how much in the week may you spend in snuff?’ ‘Perhaps 7d.’ ‘And how many years have you been in the habit of taking snuff?’ ‘Well, I suppose,’ she replied, ‘upwards of forty years.’ ‘Seven-pence a week, you say,—that is something more than thirty shillings in the year,—and if you have taken snuff at this rate for forty years, the same will amount to more than 60l.’ ‘You surprise me,—you must be mistaken, Sir.’ ‘No, Ma’am,’ said I, ‘I am not mistaken. It amounts to more than 60l. without the interest (profound calculation!) Now, do you think that God will reward you for taking snuff?’ ‘Reward me for taking snuff!’ said she, ‘No, Sir, I do not expect that.’ ‘But suppose, instead of spending this 60l. in snuff, you had spent it in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked;’”—we really can follow these opinions no further, as we have more than one old maiden lady within our ken, that would have actually fainted outright at such a want of modesty.
Trusting our reader will bear with us, we shall notice a little more of this self-created minister’s appeal in favour of the heathens, who, doubtless, if favoured with the knowledge, could not but feel highly indebted for the exertions of so powerful an advocate in their cause. At the same time we strongly suspect, from the love he has of showing his knowledge of the tables of pence, that the writer was formerly an officiating deputy in a huckster’s or chandler’s shop, until seduced by the influence of the “spirit that moves” for a nobler call of action. The following is another specimen of his figurative powers.
“A few days ago, I mentioned the above anecdote in the house of a farmer. ‘Why,’ said the farmer, ‘I could never have thought that 7d. a week would have come to so much.—Do you know my wife and I can assure you, that awhile back, we smoked an ounce a day.’ ‘An ounce a day,’ said I, (the echo!) ‘What is tobacco an ounce?’ (ignoramus!—we thought he knew not the value of what he attempts to depreciate). ‘Four-pence,’ said he. ‘Four-pence an ounce, and an ounce in the day, that is 2s. 4d. per week, and 52 weeks in the year will be the sum of 6l. and 4d. annually.—O Sir!—I am very sorry for you.’”—(kind hearted soul!)
Pursuing his system, apparently, of poking his head into the affairs of country farmers, he gives us another trite anecdote, too rich a morceau to be passed in silence; since it so admirably serves to shew the estimation the pipe is held in by the true representatives of John Bull.