TOBACCO ON INTELLECT

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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Michigan · Aug 2, 1864

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 24, No. 10.

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TOBACCO ON INTELLECT

Tobacco-Using. No. 8.

TOBACCO ON INTELLECT.

WHATEVER excites unduly the nervous system, excites the mind. The electrical currents of the nerves are inseparably connected with the developments of the intellect. Men who become accustomed to the excitements of tobacco, find themselves comparatively inadequate to any considerable mental effort without it. If tobacco is gone, all is gone; and they are perfectly unmanned till that stimulus can be procured. This habitual mental excitement produces many fearful consequences. One is the paralyzing of the native mental energies, so that they become less active and enduring. A mind which is dependent on this stimulus is more fluctuating in its emotions and decisions. It cannot duly act, unless duly excited; its native sprightliness is diminished, and must now be prompted by artificial steam. When that steam is low, the mental enginery cannot promptly work till the steam has been renewed. The mind is also less enduring. If extra drafts are made, if uncommon mental toil is demanded, if perplexities arise, if afflictions supervene, an extra quantity of tobacco is taken. On the approach of unusual burdens of this kind, this article is devoured with extra zest, to give the mind power to bear them. If the poison happens not to be at hand—if the man's chief mental resources do not happen to be in his pocket—he is afloat, without sail or ballast, till a supply is furnished.
Another consequence of habitual excitement of this kind is depression of spirits. In spite of all the artificial promptings derived from this habit, melancholy and gloominess will ensue. Dr. Mussey gives a case of a lawyer, who, being accustomed from early life to this stimulus, complained that his "life was greatly embittered by excessive and inordinate fear of death." He says, "My spirits were much depressed. I became exceedingly irresolute, so that it required a great effort to accomplish what I now do without thinking of it. My sleep was disturbed, faintings and lassitude were my constant attendants." He gives another case, of a man fifty-five years of age, who lost his voice, so as to be unable to speak above a whisper for three years. It is said, "He was subject to fits of extreme melancholy; for whole days he would not speak to any one; was exceedingly dyspeptic, and subject to nightmare." He abandoned tobacco, recovered his voice, and his melancholy disappeared.
A number of similar cases could be cited, several of which came under my own observation, where deep melancholy was produced from this cause. Some, of long continuance, terminated in partial or entire insanity. And there is no doubt in my mind, that if the truth could be ascertained, many a case of suicide has been the result of this habit. One writer, of his own experience in this matter, says: "At times I had feelings which seemed to border on mental derangement. I felt that everybody hated me, and I, in turn, hated everybody. I often lay awake nights under the most distressing forebodings. I have often arisen in fitful and half-delirious slumbers, and smoked my pipe to obtain temporary relief from these sufferings. I often thought of suicide, but was deterred by a dread of a hereafter." He continues, "In a few weeks after entirely relinquishing this habit, all these feelings were gone, and my health fully restored."
A gentleman in Richmond, Va., who had himself and family read my work on health, in which tobacco is slightly noticed, informed me that his son, aged about twenty, prior to this had been exceedingly dull and lifeless. He feared he had lost all his early sprightliness of character, and would never have energy enough for any efficient business. "But," said he, "since reading your work, and leaving off his tobacco, to which he has been accustomed from early boyhood, he has waked up, has excellent spirits, and seems like a totally new being." Many a case of irritable, peevish, fretful temper, has been cured in the same way, which might be related, if space would allow.
Another injury which the mind sustains from the use of this excitant is, a diminution of moral courage, self-respect, and self-government. This habit is more completely enslaving to the mind than any other to which human nature is addicted. When once completely formed, the man is chained, hand-cuffed, and incarcerated for life. His chance for escape is exceedingly small. Few comparatively ever scale their prison walls. Their chains are not easily sundered: they are destined to be slaves, and subject to the most menial service for life. And not only this, but that service so degrades their mental perceptions, that they soon lose all realizing sense of the low-life, unmanly nature of the labors they are called upon to perform. They go through with their daily and hourly performances without seeming at all to realize how they appear in the eyes of all decency and true civilization. Let these same men once come out of the theatre of their servitude, wash themselves clean, and put on unstained garments, and then let them look back upon men now serving under this foul, tyrannical monster—see the degrading, filthy, servile employments they practise, and the power of those bars and gates that shut them in—and they would individually exclaim, with religious reverence, THE LORD DELIVER ME FROM SUCH ASSOCIATES AND SUCH BONDAGE!
While in this enslaved condition, they seem to have lost all self-control;—at least, they have lost their consciousness of such control. Thousands daily acknowledge the ugliness and detriment of the habit, but declare their imagined inability to rid themselves of the practice. And doubtless it comes nearer a complete inability than in any other case. They see the fortresses of the enemy, and have not courage to attack it. Even the most intelligent Christians and Christian ministers can meet and resist the Devil and his legions on any other battle-ground, but when they come to this, they shrink back, give him the whole advantage of the field, and surrender themselves unresistingly as prisoners of war. Oh, shame on such cowardice! and shame on the men who tamely tolerate such a debasing, soul-destroying tyranny!
When a man sells himself to this servitude, and continues in it, he not only parts with all his native moral courage and becomes a servile coward before this destroying angel, but gives himself up to the control of animal appetites. The reins of government have fallen from the hands of his higher nature into those of the lower. He abandons the teachings of common sense, intelligent judgment, and a sound mind, to humble himself at the feet of a licentious god. No code of morals, no rules of etiquette, no suasions of reason, now avail him anything; he knows no law but that of appetite—no rule of life but the ruling power of self-created lust. And while he abides under this form of government, he is exposed to the dominion of other tyrant appetites, which associate with this for purposes of mutual assassination and plunder. And when one of them has succeeded in dethroning and incarcerating Human Reason, another and another of the associated conspirators come in, to avail themselves in turn of conquest and of spoils.
When Reason bows her head to one licentious plunderer, she gives fearful encouragement for others that follow in his train, and establishes a dreadful precedent for her own future abandonment of virtue. When she gives herself to vice in one form, she lowers her general standard of virtue, and her power of appreciation of all other forms of chastity. When she allows appetite in one case to gain the ascendancy, she finds it hard to gain, and harder still to hold, the reins of government in another case. Before the safety of her virtue and her government can be made secure, she must again be fully seated on her throne, and guard and defend herself on every side.
To overcome this foe when once he has set his foot upon the soil, requires a desperate gathering up of mental and moral forces; and a settled determination to die or conquer. It requires more real courage, than it does to arm and walk out into the fierce literal battle-field. Bonaparte did not find the resources of his courage so severely taxed at Waterloo or Lodi's bridge, as the man, long accustomed to the fatal weed, in gathering himself up to cast this devil at his feet. He that conquers here, deserves more credit for genuine valor than he who slaughters thousands and achieves a nation's freedom. If any one should think of heading an army of men, let him see whether he has courage to govern himself. He that proves himself able to do this, has given the first and most important evidence of ability to command armies.
As desperate as must be the battle to overcome tobacco, it is every one's duty to enter the field. The conquest can be made—a victory can be won. Let every man rouse up his latent, sleeping, smothered moral courage, and come to the battle-ground. Let him do it TO-DAY. There must come a vow in this matter; procrastination is not only the thief of time, but, by delay, his own forces are growing weaker, and the arm of the enemy is growing stronger. Many have tried to quit it, but have not succeeded; and why? Because they only half resolved; resolved merely to try the experiment; and the Devil tried against them.
The only way to conquer this habit is, to be determined, come life or death, they never will again put the deadly thing to their lips. While a man is half resolved, the adversary of all good will stand at his elbow, tempting him. And while the half-penitent is writhing under the agonies of denied longings, the tempter whispers, "A little tobacco will relieve you; a small quid or a single cigar will put all right again;" and unless the resolution has its foundation deep in the soul, the temptation will prevail. But when a man is determined, without mental reservation, to conquer this besetting sinful lust of the flesh, and give reason and moral principle their sway, that enemy of all righteousness will turn on his heel and depart.
But while he suffers himself to be led captive by this morbid appetite, he not only yields himself to the will of the evil one, but is crushing all the powers of his higher nature. The higher faculties of his being, like the victims of oppression under the iron heel of despotic brutality, are subjected to the foulest tyranny of base groveling lust.
(To be continued.)