A Weed in the Sermon

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 5, 1873

A Weed in the Sermon.

“Mother, how much tobacco does it take to make a sermon?”

“What do you mean, my son?”

“Why, I mean how much tobacco does father chew, and how many cigars does he smoke, while he is making a sermon?”

“Well, the tobacco and the smoke do not make the sermon, do they?”

“I don't know but they do—they help along, at any rate; for I heard father tell Mr. Morris, the minister who preached for him last Sunday, that he could never write a sermon without a cigar. So I thought maybe the tobacco makes the sermon, or the best part of it.”

“My son, I am shocked to hear you talk so!”

“Well, mother, I was only telling what father said; and what it made me think. He said a prime cigar was a great solace (whatever that is); and he said, besides, it drove away the blues—put him in a happy frame of mind, and simmerated or stimulated his brain, so he could work better. I suppose stimulated means to make one think easier. Now, mother, I have been thinking I could study better if I had something to stimulate my brain; and the next time I have one of those knotty questions in arithmetic to work out, I will get a cigar, and see if it won't help me along. You know you often tell me if I follow my father's example I will not go astray; and now I would like a few cigars to make my brain work well, so I can stand at the head of my class.”

“I hope I shall never see my son with a cigar in his mouth; it would be the first step to ruin.”

“You don't think father is ruined, do you? He has taken a good many steps since he took the first cigar.”

“I think, my son, your father would be better without cigars or tobacco in any shape; but he formed the habit when a young man.”

“But father says we are to blame for forming bad habits, and it is a sin to continue in them. I heard him say that in the pulpit, not long ago. There is old Tom Jenkins, who gets tight every day. I suppose he would find it rather hard to break off drinking whisky. But father says it's no excuse for a man, when he gets drunk, to say he is in the habit of getting drunk. He says it only needs resolution and moral courage to break off bad habits.”

“But, my son, smoking tobacco is not quite like drinking whisky and getting drunk.”

“No, I know that, mother; but I was going on to say that, if smoking was a bad habit, father would have given it up long ago. But I don't believe smoking is any harm; and it does some folks a great deal of good. You know how nervous and fidgety father gets when he has to go without any cigars; and, besides, he could not write his sermons without them. I am sure if he could write as well and do as much good without using tobacco, he would not spend so much money for it. When I want to buy a little candy, or a bit of spruce gum, father tells me I had better practice the grace of self-denial, and save my money for the missionary box. Besides, he says such stuff is not good for me; it will spoil my teeth and ruin my health. Now I am quite certain that father would not spend money—more than I have ever spent in my whole life for candy, gum, clothes, and everything—if he did not believe tobacco was a real benefit to himself and others. Why, mother, do you know anything about the price of cigars in these times? Cousin Ned Wilkins, who smokes a great many, says ‘you can't get a decent cigar for less than fifteen cents; and the best cost forty and fifty cents apiece!’ And I heard Deacon Tompkins say his cigars cost him six hundred dollars a year; for he uses nothing but the very best, and they are all imported. He told father so the other day, when they were smoking together in the study after dinner, and I was trying to get my arithmetic lesson. Now, mother, do you think my father, and Deacon Tompkins, and a whole host of ministers, and elders, and temperance lecturers, and lots and lots of good Christian people, would spend so much money to keep themselves in bad habits? Why, just the sum that Deacon Tompkins alone spends upon cigars, would support a missionary in the West for a whole year, and would be a better salary than many western ministers now get! Really, mother, I cannot believe that using tobacco is wrong as long as so many good Christians do use it. I don't care so much about chewing—would rather have some nice, clean spruce gum, such as they have got down to Dickinson's store; but I would like to smoke as my father does; and please, mother, give me a little money to get a few cigars.”

“My son, you may talk to your father about this matter. Ask him if he thinks it would improve your habits and manners to learn to smoke; and if he approves, you may ask him for a cigar.—Advent Herald.”