Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Aug 7, 1855
ON THE USE OF TOBACCO.
[Concluded.]
I now hasten to notice,
III. ITS EFFECTS, PHYSICAL AND MORAL.
1. Its physical effects.—I have anticipated the most of what is necessary to be said under this head, in connection with the different modes of using it. But, in order to confirm and establish what has already been said, I will here present a few more medical and other testimonies against the habitual use of this poisonous plant, on account of its deleterious effects upon the health and constitution.
"In those not accustomed to it, tobacco excites nausea, vomiting, dizziness, indigestion, mental dejection, and, in short, the whole train of nervous complaints." "I have long witnessed, in a variety of cases," says Dr. Agnew, "the deleterious effects produced by the constant use of that strong narcotic, such as vertigo, indigestion, flatulence, &c., and which must necessarily be the irreparable concomitants of the application of such a narcotic stimulus to so large a portion of the nervous and secreting surface, either in substance or vapour."
"A person of my acquaintance," says Dr. Clarke, "who had been an immoderate snuff-taker for upward of forty years, was frequently afflicted with a sudden suppression of breathing, occasioned from a paralytic state of the muscles which served for respiration; these affections grew more and more alarming, and seriously threatened her life. The only relief she got in such cases was from a cup of cold water poured down her throat. This became so necessary to her, that she could never venture to attend a place of public worship without having a small vessel of water with her, and a friend at hand to administer it! At last she left off snuff; the muscles re-acquired their proper tone, and, in a short time after, she was entirely cured of her disorder, which was occasioned solely by her attachment to her snuff-box, and to which she had nearly fallen a martyr!"
2. Its moral effects.—And these are as much more pernicious than the other, as the mind exceeds the body in its value, and as eternity exceeds time in its duration. It tends to weaken and debilitate all the moral powers, and some of them it ultimately destroys. But more than this, it tends to other vicious moral habits.
"When public attention shall be fully awakened to this subject," says Dr. M'Allister, "innumerable instances will be found, where drunkenness has followed as the legitimate consequence of using tobacco."
"I am confident," says Dr. Agnew, "the pernicious effects of tobacco are second to none produced by the combination of all the luxuries and poisons by which custom and effeminacy have enslaved us, the potation of spirituous liquors excepted. But this last rarely stands by itself, as the use of the pipe, &c., almost invariably leads to the immoderate use of ardent spirits."
"Hence," says Dr. M'Allister, "smoking has, by producing dryness and thirst, in many instances been the sad precursor to the whiskey jug and brandy bottle, which together have plunged their unfortunate victims into the lowest depth of wretchedness and wo!" The fact that some use tobacco without becoming intemperate drinkers proves nothing against the general principle, that its natural tendency is to promote it, any more than the fact, that some men are temperate drinkers without becoming drunkards proves that this temperate drinking has not a natural tendency to promote drunkenness. For about as certain as every drunkard was once a temperate drinker, so certain is every drunkard strongly attached to tobacco.
"Smoking and chewing tobacco," says Dr. Rush, "by rendering water and other simple liquors insipid to the taste, dispose very much to the stronger stimulus of ardent spirits; hence the practice of smoking cigars throughout our country has been followed by the use of brandy and water as a common drink." And universal observation confirms the above testimony. Go to the bar room of yonder tavern, and there make your observations upon the numerous host of idlers who resort there to pass away their time, and you will find that the cigar and the glass of brandy and water (or if this be beyond their means, whiskey may be substituted) regularly succeed each other, as they mutually excite each other. Follow that band of young men who are passing hastily through your streets, (perhaps on the Sabbath day,) each of them with a cigar in his mouth, and you will find them winding their course to some tavern or porter house, that they may satiate their thirst, excited by their cigar, with a glass of brandy and water. And thus thousands of our youth are led on, and ultimately confirmed in intemperate habits.
Intimately connected with its demoralizing effects is its filthiness; for every filthy habit tends to corrupt and debase the mind. This plant is filthy in its nature, so much so that but barely one worm among the whole tribe of insects will feed upon it; and but one animal, except man, (and his taste is not natural but acquired,) has been found to eat this filthy plant. "Flies, mosquitoes and the moth, are chased from our clothes by the very smell of it." But, lest it should be supposed to have been created in vain, "modern travelers have at last discovered that it constitutes the food of a solitary and filthy wild beast, well known in the deserts of Africa by the name of the rock goat." It is not only filthy in its nature, but art has combined all its skill to render it more so.
"Simon Paulli, physician to the king of Denmark," says Dr. Clarke, "has written a treatise on the danger of using this herb, and observes, (which I quote for the sake of those who retain any sentiment of delicacy on this subject,) that the merchants frequently lay it in log houses, to the end that, becoming impregnated with the volatile salt of the excrements, it may be rendered brisker, stronger, and more fetid." "A dealer in this article once acknowledged to me," says Dr. Clarke, "that he sprinkled his rolls and leaf frequently with stale urine to keep them moist and to preserve their flavor! A friend of mine, whose curiosity led him to see tobacco spinning, observed that the boys who opened out the dry plants, had a vessel of urine by them, with which they moistened the leaves to prepare them for the spinner! Do the tobacco-chewers know this, and yet continue in this most abominable and disgraceful practice? Can any person think of the above with a quid in his mouth?"
It is not only filthy by nature, and rendered more so by art, but it is equally so in its effects. "To the great scandal of religious people," says Dr. Clarke, "the abominable customs of snuff-taking and chewing have made their way into many congregations, and are likely to be productive of immense evil. Churches and chapels are most scandalously abused by the tobacco-chewers who frequent them; and kneeling before the Supreme Being, which is so becoming and necessary when sinners approach their Maker in prayer, is rendered in many seats impracticable, because of the large quantity of tobacco saliva which is ejected in all directions."
"A mutual advantage," says Dr. M'Allister, "has resulted from our intercourse with the Indian. We have taught him how to debase himself below the brute, and destroy the quiet of savage life, by the use of our whiskey; and he, in gratitude for our kindness, has taught us to destroy our constitutions, and interrupt the harmony of civilized society, by the habitual use of this deadly narcotic."
"Should all other arguments fail to produce a reformation in the conduct of tobacco-consumers," says Dr. Clarke, "there is one which is addressed to good breeding and benevolence, which, for the sake of politeness and humanity, should prevail. Consider how disagreeable your custom is to those who do not follow it. An atmosphere of tobacco effluvia surrounds you whithersoever you go; every article about you smells of it; your apartments, your clothes, and even your breath. Nor is there a smell in nature more disagreeable than that of stale tobacco arising in warm exhalations from the human body, rendered still more offensive by passing through the pores, and becoming strongly impregnated with that noxious matter which was before insensibly perspired." "Some of the most disagreeable things relative to the practice against which I have been writing, are still behind the curtain; and it is there alone where I wish every persevering smoker to seek for a certain vessel named the spitting dish, which to the abuse of all good breeding, is frequently introduced into public company. May they and their implements while engaged in this abominable work, be ever kept out of sight."
King James finishes his "counterblast to tobacco," as follows: "A custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless." Who has not sometimes seen females about their domestic concerns, with a pinch between their fingers, and a fine large drop18suspended from the nose, just ready to fall and mingle with the food of the family?
Another serious evil resulting from the use of tobacco is the expense, and this cannot surely be regarded as of minor consideration in this age of retrenchment. And it will be found, upon investigation, to be much more expensive than is generally supposed. It may at least be ranked among "the little foxes that destroy the vine," and among the little streams that exhaust and dry up the fountain of wealth. It is probable that not less than ten millions of dollars are expended annually by the inhabitants of the United States for the useless article of tobacco. The expense to individuals will probably vary from one to fifty dollars, according to the quantity and the mode of using it. The most expensive mode is smoking, especially if cigars are used, and no doubt many individuals expend not less than fifty dollars annually in this way. It is a habit that prevails extensively among the poor, and is one great cause of their poverty. There are many, who are subsisting upon the bounty of the public, who nevertheless must have their regular quantum of tobacco. This subject is worthy the attention of benevolent societies and philanthropic individuals. No poor person should be assisted until he will abandon this worse than useless habit. "A pious clergyman," says Dr. Clarke, "lately told me that he had a number of very poor families in his parish, immoderately attached to the use of tobacco. He plainly saw that a large proportion of their daily earnings was destroyed in this way. He warned them in private and preached in public against it, but few of them had resolution enough to lay it aside." "The expense of one very poor family in snuff and tobacco he calculated, and found it to amount to nearly one-third part of their yearly earnings." Suppose a family to spend twenty-five cents a week for this article, and in fifty years it would have yielded them, at compound interest, between three and four thousand dollars! a handsome estate for a man to accumulate for his posterity, all of which, however, would be wasted for this article. In estimating its tendency to poverty, we must not confine ourselves to the bare amount of money expended to procure it, but we must take into the account the cost of the necessary utensils for using it, and the time spent in consuming it, which will be found to exceed the article itself in expense. No habitual smoker spends less than one, and from that to six hours out of twenty-four, in fumigating his pipe or cigar; and how will he answer to his God for this wanton waste of time and money?
Having gone as far as the brevity of a tract will admit, (though the half has not been told,) in enumerating the evils resulting from the habitual use of tobacco, I now feel desirous of addressing myself to a few particular characters. And,
1. Physicians.—You, gentlemen, are placed as the guardians of the public health, and you are bound by the most solemn obligations to counsel the people against the use of any thing that has a deleterious influence upon their health and constitution; and that too, by example as well as by precept. There is no person in the community whose example, in any thing relating to the public health, exerts so great an influence as that of the physician. If the people see him habitually using tobacco, they will naturally infer that it cannot greatly harm themselves, whatever he may say to the contrary. I have known some physicians who have written admirably against the use of tobacco, who are nevertheless in the daily habit of using it themselves. But what influence can a man expect his principles to exert upon others, if they exert none upon himself? and the example of these very persons is often brought by the votaries of tobacco, to rebut all that can be said against the use of it. Now the real friends of reform have to request of all such gentlemen that they will either recant what they have written upon the subject, or else be consistent, and let their practice correspond with their avowed principles.
2. Preachers of the gospel.—You too are placed as the guardians of the public morals: you are set as watchmen on the towers of Zion, to warn the people on the approach of evil. The use of tobacco has been shown to have a deleterious moral influence upon the community. How, then, can your skirts be free from their blood, if you not only do not warn them against this evil, but actually encourage them in it by your example? "Its powers are felt," says Dr. M'Allister, "and its fascinations acknowledged by all the intermediate grades of society, from the sot who wallows in the mire of your streets, to the clergyman who stands forth a pattern of moral excellence, and who ministers at the altar of his God." "What reception would the apostles have met with," says Dr. Rush, "had they carried into the cities and houses to which they were sent, snuff boxes, pipes, cigars, and bundles of cut, or rolls of hog or pigtail tobacco? Such a costly and offensive apparatus for gratifying their appetites would have furnished solid objections to their persons and doctrines, and would have been a just cause for the clamours and contempt which were excited against them." Says Dr. Clarke, "Are not many led into this practice of smoking by their pastors? I am sorry to have it to say that this idle, disgraceful custom prevails much at present among ministers of most denominations. Can such persons preach against needless self-indulgence, destruction of time, or waste of money? These men greatly injure their own usefulness; they smoke away their ministerial importance in the families where they occasionally visit; the very children and maid servants pass their jokes upon the piping parson; and should they unluckily succeed in bringing over the uninfected to their vile customs, the evil is doubled. I have known serious misunderstandings produced in certain families where the example of the idle person has influenced a husband or wife, against the consent of the other, to adopt the use of the pipe or the snuff box."
3. Professors of religion.—You too are interested in this subject. You are bound by your profession to deny yourselves of all superfluities, and especially of all habits which tend to corrupt the morals of the community, and such is the use of tobacco, therefore you are bound to give it up, and let the weight of your example go to suppress it. "I most cordially recommend its perusal (says Dr. Hamilton, speaking of Dr. Clarke's treatise) to all the consumers of that herb, more especially to the professors of religion; and above all to the preachers of the gospel." "The Methodists," says Dr. Rush, "forbade the use of tobacco in the infancy of their society. The prohibition discovered a high and just sense of the self-denial, decency, and universal civility, which were required by the gospel." But the Methodists are not the first who prohibited the use of it. Pope Urban VIII, made a bull to excommunicate all those who took tobacco in the churches. And the emperors of Russia, Turkey, and Persia, prohibited the use of it in their respective kingdoms, under the severest penalties.
4. And, finally, I would address myself to those who have not yet acquired the habit of using tobacco. To such I would say, Stand fast in the liberty wherewith you are now free. Why should you voluntarily submit yourselves to become slaves to a habit that will tyrannize over you and lead you captive at its will? Why should you needlessly acquire so disagreeable a habit, without the most distant prospect of advantage from it? Dr. Franklin, a few months before his death, declared to one of his friends that he had never used tobacco in any way in the course of his long life, and that he was disposed to believe there was not much advantage to be derived from it, for that he had never met with a man who used it, who advised him to follow his example.
Why should you voluntarily acquire a habit that will subject you to such extreme uneasiness and distress, if you should ever be placed in circumstances where you could not gratify it? A friend of mine once informed me that he never suffered so much in his life as from the privation of tobacco in a long voyage across the Atlantic. Col. Burr observes that the greatest complaints, dissatisfaction, and suffering, that he heard from the soldiers who accompanied Gen. Arnold in his march from Boston to Quebec, through the wilderness in the year 1775, were from the want of tobacco. This was the more remarkable as they were so destitute of provisions as to be obliged to kill and eat their dogs. The Persians are said to expatriate themselves that they may enjoy the use of tobacco in a foreign country when prohibited it in their own. All who have been in the habit of visiting prisons, &c., cannot but have observed that the first and only request of the prisoners has been, "Give me some tobacco." All the above goes to prove the strong influence this habit exerts upon the individual, and the great distress the privation of it occasions him.
Finally, why should you acquire a habit that will waste your property, injure your health, impair your morals, and perhaps be the cause of destroying soul and body for time and eternity? Many first acquire the habit out of complacency to others, who press them to partake with them. When you are thus invited, think of the conduct of Omiah, a native of Otaheite: when a noble lord presented him his golden snuff box, and invited him to take some, the innocent savage bluntly replied, "I thank you, my lord, my nose is not hungry." And on higher authority, I would say, "Handle not, touch not, taste not, the unclean thing."
Our Duty.
By Annie R. Smith
Never from the future borrow
Burdens that no good repay,
Strength required for to-morrow,
May be lost on us to-day.
God the present moment calls us
Forth to labor in the field,
Not to fear what may befall us,
But the weapons bravely wield.
Trials that we now are breasting
On our journey nearly done,
Are our faith and patience testing,
Ere the victory is won.
Duties as they come before us
Each perform with willing heart;
He with richest blessings o'er us,
Will be faithful on his part.
Every needed grace he'll lend us,
If we do his righteous will;
In the darkest hour defend us,
And through life be with us still.
Annie R. Smith.
Wilton, N. H., July 18th, 1855.
Self-Denial
By John Wesley
“What is self-denial? Wherein are we to deny ourselves? And whence does the necessity of this arise? I answer, The will of God is the supreme, unalterable rule for every intelligent creature: equally binding every angel in heaven, and every man upon earth. Nor can it be otherwise: this is the natural, necessary result of the relation between creatures and their Creator. But if the will of God be our one rule of action in every thing, great and small, it follows, by undeniable consequence, that we are not to do our own will in any thing. Here, therefore, we see at once the nature, with the ground and reason of self-denial. We see the nature of self-denial: it is the denying or refusing to follow our own will, from the conviction, that the will of God is the only rule of action to us. And we see the reason thereof, because we are creatures; because ‘it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves.’
“This reason for self-denial must hold, even with regard to the angels of God in heaven; and with regard to man, innocent and holy, as he came out of the hand of his Creator. But a farther reason for it arises from the condition wherein all men are since the fall. We are all now ‘shapen in iniquity, and in sin did our mother conceive us.’ Our nature is altogether corrupt, in every power and faculty. And our will, depraved equally with the rest, is wholly bent to indulge our natural corruption. On the other hand, it is the will of God, that we resist and counteract that corruption, not at some times, or in some things only, but at all times, and in all things. Here, therefore, is a farther ground for constant and universal self-denial.
“To illustrate this a little farther. The will of God is a path leading straight to God. The will of man, which once ran parallel with it, is now another path, not only different from it, but in our present state, directly contrary to it. It leads from God: if, therefore, we walk in the one, we must necessarily quit the other. We cannot walk in both. Indeed a man ‘of faint heart and feeble hands may go in both ways,’ one after the other. But he cannot walk in two ways at the same time: he cannot, at one and the same time, follow his own will, and follow the will of God: he must choose the one or the other; denying God's will to follow his own, or denying himself to follow the will of God.
“Now, it is undoubtedly pleasing for the time, to follow our own will, by indulging, in any instance, that offers, the corruption of our nature. But, by following it in any thing, we so far strengthen the perverseness of our will; and by indulging it, we continually increase the corruption of our nature. So, by the food which is agreeable to the palate, we often increase a bodily disease.19It gratifies the taste, but inflames the disorder. It brings pleasure; but it also brings death.
“On the whole, then, to deny ourselves, is to deny our own will, where it does not fall in with the will of God, and that, however pleasing it may be. It is to deny ourselves any pleasure which does not spring from, and lead to God: that is, in effect, to refuse going out of our way, though into a pleasant, flowery path; to refuse what we know to be deadly poison, though agreeable to the taste.
“And every one that would follow Christ, that would be his real disciple, must not only ‘deny himself, but take up his cross’ also. A cross is any thing contrary to our will, any thing displeasing to our nature. So that taking up our cross goes a little farther than denying ourselves; it rises a little higher, and is a more difficult task to flesh and blood; it being more easy to forego pleasure than endure pain.
“Now in ‘running the race which is set before us,’ according to the will of God, there is often a cross lying in the way; that is, something which is not only not joyous, but grievous, something which is contrary to our will, which is displeasing to our nature. What, then, is to be done? The choice is plain; either we must ‘take up our cross,’ or we must turn aside from the way of God, ‘from the holy commandment delivered to us;’ if we do not stop altogether, or turn back to everlasting perdition.
“In order to the healing of that corruption, that evil disease, which every man brings with him into the world, it is often needful to pluck out, as it were, a right eye, to cut off a right hand; so painful is either the thing itself, which must be done, or the only means of doing it: the parting, suppose, with a foolish desire, with an inordinate affection: or a separation from the object of it, without which it can never be extinguished. In the former kind, the tearing away of such a desire or affection, when it is deeply rooted in the soul, is often like the piercing of a sword, yea, like ‘the dividing asunder of the soul and spirit, the joints and marrow.’ The Lord then ‘sits upon the soul, as a refiner's fire,’ to burn up all the dross thereof. And this is a cross indeed; it is essentially painful: it must be so in the very nature of the thing. The soul cannot be thus torn asunder, it cannot pass through the fire without pain.”—Mr. Wesley's Sermon on Self-denial.
"For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion. For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love and their hatred and their envy is now perished; neither have they any more a portion, for ever in any thing that is done under the sun."
There is a great deal of instruction in the above scripture; it being expressed in language, at once, significant and comprehensive. But what mostly concerns us, is to know what that instruction is; i. e., to understand precisely what it proves respecting the condition of the dead absolutely, and their state relatively considered, when being contrasted with that of the living.
The wise man in verse 3, introduces the subject of death, and this with the state of the dead, is continued through the three following verses as the principal subject of discourse.
The subject of hope, which consists of desire and expectation, in the first clause of the text, is introduced in such a way as to carry strong conviction to the understanding, that this faculty of the mind is exercised by the living only, and not by the dead. Were it, according to the prevalent doctrines of men, that death is merely the separation of soul and body, and that their departed souls are in a kind of embryo state of happiness or misery, then the mind of the dead saint must constantly be exercised, not only with a desire, but also with an expectation of the resurrection of the just, when the soul and body would be re-united for the enjoyment of more perfect bliss.
In the last clause of verse 4, a comparison is drawn between a living dog and a dead lion. The preference is given to the former. The object is not to instruct us as to the relative condition of living and dead beasts, nor to inform us as to the absolute condition of dead animals. We come to this conclusion from the fact that "all Scripture is given by inspiration, and is profitable for doctrine;" and we do not see how such information can be profitable to us. Further, verse 3 shows clearly that the state or condition of the sons of men when dead was the subject under consideration. This simile was calculated to show the vast superiority of the condition of a living man over that of a dead man: or it would be difficult to conceive what instruction it was designed to impart. If the mental faculties of the dead are so vastly superior to those of the living, that one dead man knows more than all the living, as we have formerly been taught, then the above comparison must be very much out of place; for though there be a total loss of physical power in death, yet, as the "mind is the stature of the man," according to their teachings, and as "bodily exercise profiteth little," according to the sacred writ, such an addition of mental power must more than counterbalance the entire loss of physical, and thus the dead man have the superiority still.
Again, if it be true that the righteous, as soon as they die, become angels, as spiritualism and even the leaders of the so-called orthodox churches assert, (and quote Rev. xxii, 8, 9, to prove it,) then this declaration of Solomon must be rejected at least as an unmeaning figure, if not as a perfect falsehood, as we have a vast amount of testimony from various parts of the Bible, to prove that angels are greatly superior to men. Ps. ciii, 20, says that angels excel in strength. 2 Peter ii, 11, says, "Whereas angels which are greater in power and might." Greater than whom? Greater than wicked men; and truly all the mighty men are among the wicked and not among the righteous. If any are desirous to know the degree of their superiority in these respects, such are referred to the destruction of an armed force of one hundred and eighty-five thousand men by an angel in one night. Isa. xxxvii, 36. They are also referred to Matt. xxviii, 2, 4, which shows that there was power in one angel to cause a great earthquake, and also to cause the sentinels placed there to guard the tomb, to shake and become as dead men. Nor are we sure in either of these cases, that all the power of these angels was called into action. The description of the angel of Rev. xviii, 1, in which it is said, "the earth was lighted with his glory," gives us such a clue upon the subject, that our dim perception is enabled to discover something of the immense disparity between the power and majesty of angels and that of men.
The result is as follows:
Solomon gives us to understand that the living man is more than as much superior to the dead, as a living dog to a dead lion. The doctrines of men assert that as soon as men die they become angels; and the Bible in various places teaches us, as seen above, that angels are vastly superior to men; therefore if the doctrines of men be true, they make the Bible contradict itself. But whether their doctrines be true or not, they contradict the Bible.
As the first clause of the 5th verse expresses the knowledge and certainty of death merely, and therefore needs no comment, I pass to the following sentence: "But the dead know not anything." Here is a simple and positive declaration, without any modifying term whatever. But the objector says, it is the dead body that knows nothing; but the soul the thinking part of man then knows much more than it did before. * But I pass to the next expression in the text. "For the memory of them is forgotten." Here the main point is to know what the true meaning of this last expression is. Does it mean that others have forgotten to remember them? Certainly this is no good reason why the dead have no reward. The wise man says, "neither have they any more a reward;" for, or because the memory of them is forgotten. If the dead still retained their faculties of
mind they might have a reward just as well, though all others had forgotten them. But this is not the meaning. The sense of it is, that the dead have no reward, because their own memory is forgotten, or perished, so that they are wholly incapable of appreciating or receiving, enjoying or suffering any reward. It is true, the phrase, "the memory of them is forgotten," is somewhat peculiar, and is not in exact accordance with the English idiom, but it perfectly agrees with the idioms of some, at least, of the ancient languages.
Again, it is contrary to what we know to be facts, to say on general principles that the dead are forgotten by the living. Think you that the fond mother who has seen her daughter, just in the opening bloom of youth, droop, die, and housed away in death, will cease to remember with mournful yet fond recollections that darling youth, until all other faculties of her mind shall fail? Most certainly not. Or the affectionate father who has witnessed his youthful son just merging into manhood, giving promise of distinguished future life, and of being the solace of his own declining years, fall the most unexpected prey to the common destroyer, and become an inmate of the tomb. Think you that this son is forgotten by his parent?
The hero and statesman remember with a proud satisfaction the names and acts of a vast catalogue of heroes and statesmen of other ages which history has brought down to their remembrance. The humble saint remembers with a holy delight, the names, sufferings, and acts of a great multitude of prophets, apostles, and saints, some of whom, wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, and others not accepting deliverance, suffered to the death that they might obtain a better resurrection. Hence we have strong evidence that the dead are not forgotten by the living.
Further, there is not only no evidence that the dead are forgotten by the living, but even if they were, there would be a perfect inconsistency in the idea, that the dead have no more a reward because the living cease to remember them. Could not God reward them just as well though all men had forgotten them? certainly he could. But if their own powers of mind are gone, of course they are incapable of any reward. And that their faculties are gone, Psalm cxlvi, 4, proves in the most clear and positive language: viz., "His breath goeth forth; he returneth to his earth, in that very day his thoughts perish."
Verse 6. "Also their love and their hatred and their envy is now perished." As the objector always will say, that it is the dead body that knows nothing, but the mind, the thinking part that remains intelligent, here let me ask in candor, Are love, hatred, and envy attributes of the body, or of the mind? Any rational man will answer, They are attributes of the mind. Hence it appears that they have the wrong side of the argument; for the reason that three of those faculties of the mind have perished, which are so essential to its existence, that it would be difficult to conceive how they can perish unless the whole mind perish with them.
If the doctrine alluded to be true, that the thinking part of man goes to a place of happiness or misery at death, we will examine the condition of one who has just reached the world of bliss. Though his hatred and envy have perished, can any one hence believe that his love is perished also? What! believe as soon as the soul reaches that blissful region where God the Father and Jesus the Saviour dwell in matchless excellence and glory, and where angels, God's most exalted servants dwell in all their loveliness, that then is the time the love of the poor saint must wax cold and perish? When they have left all the hateful snares and unlovely conduct of this world, and have reached the place, where every thing is calculated to bring that faculty of the mind into its most exquisite actions, is it rational to believe that this most essential attribute of the mind must then perish? Let any candid man answer.
We will now examine the case of the wicked. Our opponents have always held forth that the employment of the lost is to blaspheme God's holy name, and vent their hatred and malice against20their associates. And here, though all admit that their love is now perished, yet their envy and hatred must rage without control. The conclusion of the matter is this: The Word says, "their love and their hatred and their envy is now perished." The objector says their love in this case has perished; but their envy and hatred are wrought up to the most active malignity. Here is another plain contradiction to the word of God. Error always brings us into a contradiction with the Bible; but truth brings us into harmony with it.
The usual reply to the above sentiment is, we make poor man to die like the beasts. Such should be referred to Eccl. iii, 19, 20, to see how they die. "For that which befalleth the sons of men, befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth so dieth the other, yea they have all one breath; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast; for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again." Hence in nearly every sentence taken up, we find almost an entire want of harmony between the doctrines of men in the present age, and the word of the Lord. As it respects the application of this truth to Spiritualism, we find here the most complete refutation of that deceitful magic that there is in all the Bible. Though the emphatic declaration "The dead know not any thing," would seem to be of itself sufficient to refute the false doctrine, we are instructed still further on this point, "that they have no more a reward," that "their memory is forgotten," also that "their love, envy and hatred is now perished:" three faculties so essential to the existence of the mind that one or more of them must exist as long as the mind itself exists; yet the Holy Spirit as if to guard us doubly strong against this fatal error, adds, in conclusion, "Neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun."
They not only have no more a portion in any thing that is under the sun; but they have no portion in any thing that is done under the sun. Therefore the erroneous teaching that the spirits of the dead are ministering or guardian spirits, and that they rap, write, speak, sing, &c., is completely refuted by this epitome of divine truth on this subject.
How could the poor saint withstand this deceptive fallacy, had it not been for the development of this truth?
With what gratitude to God should our hearts be exercised, that he has graciously given us, in due time, the doctrine of the unintelligence of the dead, so completely adapted to guard us against this strong delusion of the last days which is about to envelope the world.
STEPHEN PIERCE.
Useful Hints to Public Speakers.
It is a curious fact in the history of sound, that the loudest noises always perish on the spot where they are produced, whereas musical notes will be heard at a great distance. Thus if we approach within a mile or two of a town or village, in which a fair is held, we may hear very faintly the clamor of the multitude, but more distinctly the organs and other musical instruments which are played for their amusement. If a Cremona violin, a real Amati, be played by the side of a modern fiddle, the latter will sound much louder of the two; but the sweet brilliant tone of the Amati, will be heard at a distance, the other cannot reach. Dr. Young, on the authority of Derham, states that, at Gibraltar, the human voice is heard at the distance of ten miles. It is a well known fact that the human voice may be heard at a greater distance than that of any other animal. Thus, when the cottager in the woods, or in the open plain, wishes to call her husband, who is working at a distance, she does not shout, but pitches her voice to a musical key, which she knows from habit, and by that means reaches his ear. The loudest roar of the largest lion could not penetrate so far. "This property of music in the human voice," says the author, "is strikingly shown in the cathedrals abroad. There the mass is entirely performed in musical sounds, and becomes audible to every devotee, however placed in the remotest part of the church; whereas, if the same mass had been read, the sounds would not have traveled beyond the precincts of the choir." Those orators who are heard in large assemblies most distinctly, and at the greatest distance, are those who, by modulating the voice, render it more musical. Loud speakers are seldom heard to advantage.