I secure no Copyright on this little Book, or on any of my Anti-Tobacco productions. They all assail an evil both near and remote, and as wide as the world. Hence I ask EDITORS, BOOK-MAKERS, and all DOERS OF GOOD, to use anything I publish against this popular abomination, with perfect freedom. FREELY RECEIVE, FREELY GIVE. Speed the truth—let it fly—the [human] RACE needs it!

Young Friends:

This little book, which I dedicate to my nephew, BILLY BRUCE, may fall into some of your hands; if so, a word from the author will not be amiss.

The popular weed tobacco, on which it treats, is a vegetable poison; it ranks with arsenic, prussic acid, and poisons of a deadly nature. It is [erroneously believed in 1860 to be] useful sometimes as a medicine; it is used sometimes to kill snakes, moths, bugs, lice, and all sorts of vermin, and it is a pity its natural use should be so far perverted as to kill dear boys and men.

It is generally conceded [in 1860] that when used in fashionable forms, it does well men no good, but often much harm. The origin of the custom had nothing to do with civilization, but sprang from the grossest heathenism.

That was a sad hour [1492] when polished Europeans caught its use of [from] naked savages on our continent; for the hand on the dial-plate of civilisation turned backward a great way.

I am no stranger to the power of this weed on myself. I shall write as one redeemed from bondage.

Owing to the tenacious power of the habit, it is not to be expected that many who are advanced in life will give it up. But in the name of Patriotism, in the name of Religion, and all which is lovely and of good report [Philippians 4:8], I call on you, my dear lads, to stand clear of a habit which turns freemen into slaves [addicts].

Stand clear of a yoke ten times more galling than the yoke of [King] George the Third, which your grandsires broke.

With respect to the language employed in this book, I ought to say, it was not written for infants on the one hand, nor for hoary-headed philosophers on the other; but for my worthy nephew, Billy Bruce, who, in point of years, is on the green side of twelve, but on the dry side of fifteen in point of information and good sense.

I must not dwell, however, upon my own authorship in this matter, for I suspect that others will think, as I do, that the value of the volume lies in the destructive weed will stand some chance to be read with profit and pleasure.

Young friends, you may see men who will laugh at an anti-tobacco book for boys but such men have not a father's heart. Tobaceo is the Napoleon, the

Read this little book, my lads; especially read these letters of love from distinguished men. Disdain slavery; create no artificial appetites; be free; be natural; for, in the language of Jeremy Taylor, "he who has the fewest wants is the most like God."

-viii-

TOBACCO is the twin demon of Alcohol. Very many of our young men and boys are ruined by its power. Tlie evil is coming upon the nation like a flood.

Twenty thousand of our fellow-citizens, say physicians, are killed by it annually. The nation, it is believed, pay about $40,000,000, and the church about $5,000,000, in its yearly consumption.

Its AFFINITIES are alarming. Its tendencies are all bad. It leads to idleness, poverty, strong drink, vice, disease, delirium and death.

I have been a victim to the seductive power of this vile poison, and personal experience of sorrows inflicted bids me do what I can to draw attention to its mischievous doings. Thus moved, I publish this little book. It is intended for juvenile libraries, and schools of every kind. I claim for it but one excellence, which is that it is

[British King] George the Third, though our [Revolutionary era] fathers branded him a tyrant, had some clever streaks. In the exuberance of his good wishes on some occasion, he said, "I wish every poor man in my kingdom had a chicken in his pot."

I am not a king,—I am simple-hearted Uncle Toby,—but I wish that every boy in the land had my little book; for it would do him good.

Reader, take this humble manual, give it to some young friend, and he may be kept from tho first step on the road to vice and crime.

Said the late Amos Lawrence, of Boston,

As this book, with appropriate medals, was being distributed among lads at a picnic, a venerable clergyman exclaimed,

"There, there, let that work go on among boys, and it

will destroy all the devil's seed corn."

Tobacco is the devil's seed corn. Name, if you can, a vice which is obtaining so early a grasp upon youth, or which has such FEARFUL AFFINITIES.

A missionary, Rev. Mr. Goodell, endowed with goodness and age, who has travelled up and aud down our States, as he left our shores, to return to a distant continent, observed:

I well know, however, that, in defiance of thrilling admonitions and frightful expenditures, men of superficial minds will continue to sport over this evil, as the madman fiddled when Rome was in flames. But, thank God, the time is coming when Christians and patriots will wake to manly action, which shall redeem nations from bondage to this nauseous, poisonous abomination. God of our fathers, King of kings, hasten the time!

My Dear Billy:

The use of Tobacco, in either of the fashionable forms, is unnatural, or against nature. I mean, it is disagreeable, sickening, and at war with all our natural tastes. When you partake of milk, honey, meats, and bread, or the apple, peach, pear, and the like, they are pleasant; for, by a kind law of adaptation, they are fitted to your wants, and hence meet a cordial reception.

How is it with tobacco? On its first approaches, as all know, nature becomes indignant, and bids it stand afar off; and if pressed upon it, all its powers rise against the enemy, and cry, "I will spew thee out of my mouth."

Not one in a thousand has a natural love for this popular weed. In well-nigh every case, when first used, there is a terrible struggle between the victim and his foe. There is a whipping process, self-inflicted [as per pusher fraud].

If any tobacco-user tells you, my Billy, that it never hurt him, ask him if he was not hurt when he made war on his whole nature, and flogged himself into the condition of a slave.

The world is full of testimony on this point. Says Washington Irving [1783-1859],

This testimony is true in letter and in spirit. Every natural instinct abhors it. All the five senses, sooner or later, show that they have been deceived and abused by its witchery, and had been far better off if they had never come under its fatal power.

Says the venerable Dr. Woods [confirming the above],

Perhaps, dear Billy, you will say you meet with men who use the weed, and seem happy in so doing, whether it does or does not agree with nature. To this I answer, some use alcohol, some use opium, and some use arsenic, and live a while; by changing the order of things, and forming a second nature, they continue a few years, perhaps, under this cruel process of abuse.

But is it wise to turn creator, get up a second nature, and trample on the work of God within us? Is it wise to eat fire, swallow knives, and torment our bodies, because others do?

Let me tell a story about Jesse Shute, which will illustrate my meaning. I was once standing on a wharf in New London, waiting for a

It was on this occasion I saw Jesse Shute trying his first cigar. He was a thin, graceful, elegant boy, with a countenance expressive of fine sensibilities and a fine mind; in fact, he had that rich and delicate structure upon which tobacco plays almost with the fury of lightning in doing mischief.

The initiatory process went hard with young Jesss. He had a lemon in one hand and a cheroot in the other; and he used them scientifically, I assure you.

He used them in turn. Now the little fellow would swell, pout, puff, puff, puff, and being overcome by the precious fumes, his eye would roll in its socket, his limbs give way, and down he would fall, as drunk as a toper. But his remedy was at hand: his lemon was an antidote to sickness. He greedily put it to his mouth, and drew upon it with the enthusiasm of a young calf! This neutralized the nausea; and this being done, amidst the cheers and huz-

By this time I presume little Jesse struts and shows off in full bloom; is quite a connoisseur in the cigar science, and talks about good, better, best, of a hundred varieties or more. I dare say he wags his head according to rule, perfumes the streets and saloons of New London with what Horace Greely calls a profane stench; and, though he was a mere boy then, I presume, were I to call him a boy now, he would say as another little fellow once said when I asked him to step aside and let me pass: "Sir, don't call me a boy; I have used cigars these three years!"

I must not fatigue you, Billy; but, rely upon it, to use tobacco is no more natural than to swallow lightning, inhale asafoetida, or live in fire. Hence you must never use it. You are well now, and neither this nor any other narcotic can make you better. If chewers, smokers, or venders entice thee, do not consent [Proverb 1:10]; say to them, as Omiah, a youth from Otaheite, said to a great Englishman who offered him his

That is exactly the thing; Omiah's nose was not hungry! Neither is yours or mine, in snuffing such fragrance. And if our American lads had the independence of this young pagan, so many of them would not become sickly dupes to this artificial appetite; but, living in harmony with their real nature, in harmony with the voice of God within and around,

My Billy:

The two lines I have quoted are from the works of Mr. [Charles] Lamb [1775-1834], a writer whose pithy poetry you have sometimes read to me. He used this fascinating weed himself, was injured by it, and wrote a farewell to its fatal filthy power, sufficient to make the ears of a tobacco-user tingle.

Its use is an impure habit. I mean, it is uncleanly and excessively filthy. I have heard it said that there are one thousand tons of tobacco every year squirted over the face of this fair creation. For the exact truth of this remark I must not vouch; but if it is half true, I might say with the prophet, that shameful spitting is on all our glory!

You may use it in any form, and it comes pretty much to the same thing: dirt! dirt! dirt! Use it as a snuff, and, as it has been

Use it as a cigar, and, as it is an essential poison, it lodges in the tissues of the system, perfumes and discolors it, giving it a hue resembling that of an Egyptian mummy. This form, moreover, turns your dwelling into a smoke-house, and, to the annoyance of others, loads the surrounding air with a poisonous stench.

And here I cannot but say that had your Maker designed you for a steam engine, his wisdom, it seems to me, might have furnished you with a funnel-like apparatus, through which your smoky eruptions might take an upward outlet, and not lodge upon your neighbors to their annoyance.

Use it as a quid (rather the Yankee form), and the results are equally ungrateful. It causes your mouth to look like a sepulchre of corruption, soils your lip and chin, blackens your teeth, pollutes your breath, and makes it like that of a dragon. I have sometimes pitied a poor quid as it entered the mouth of some horrid chewer, and then, when I have seen

I have known persons of refinement, when on beds of sickness, decline the approaches of the physician, because his person was fumigated by cigars.

I have heard the owners of hotels say they would willingly be taxed, year by year, a hundred dollars or more, could they be freed from tobacco filth, which thoroughly permeated or pervaded their houses.

I have heard conductors of cars say that the victims of tobacco gave them far more annoyance than the victims of alcohol. They have actually stopped trains to sand floors and put cars in a state of decency. [Ed. Note: See travelers' rights cases]

I have known the doors of churches to be shut against the most humane causes ever plead, because tobacco would be there to soil the house of God; and trouble self-respecting and cleanly families.

" Sir," said an eloquent temperance lecturer, "tobacco has spit me and my cause out of the churches!"

Still the devotées of the weed, while carrying on this stroke of business, whilst insulting earth and skies with impurity, coolly assure us that this is a concern of their own, and beg that we may not intermeddle with their joys!

This is cool, indeed, gentlemen! How long, we beg to know, have you had the exclusive right to poison the common air, and impair the happiness of your neighbors in cars, hotels, and houses of God? When and where did you acquire this right? You have as good a right to throw ratsbane into my well, or place a dead horse on the sidewalk,—just as good!

No, gentlemen, this will not do. I say to you, in the words of a lady of wit, if you must distil the wine of tobacco in your ivory distillery, then furnish yourself with a public spittoon of ample dimensions, place it in some public square, and around that let all that chew the cud muster and look each other in the face, and spit and spit from morning to evening, if you must, to your full satisfaction; but do not walk at large spitting and drooling on the body politic.

If you must smoke, we pray that this baconing process may come under some restrictions. I have heard of a city clergyman, now on the tour of Europe for health, who has attained some notoriety in the cigar line; the part that lacketh in theology, in the estimation of some, is compensated by the fact that he is an accomplished smoker, and can talk elegantly, well-nigh hy the hour, about dew-drop tobacco, the genuine Havana, and the like.

His wife, who is quite a termagant, sets her face like a flint against the popular weed, and gives her dearest but little comfort. When he enters upon the sublime business of smoking, she throws a towel around his neck, serving to protect his shirt-bosom from fire and ashes, and serving also to remind him of his days of infancy in the nursery.*

Her cruelty stops not here. In order to protect her rich parlors and gorgeous trimmings from the smoky, floating poison, she makes him an exile, drives him to the attic, and tells him, if he must have a smoke-house, it shall be in the attic; if he must baconize his body, the process shall be there.

I am actuated by sheer kindness towards this generation of smokers. I wish that ways and means might be devised for their good and that of the public.

Uncle Toby, in his wisdom, however, can recommend nothing more suitable than a free use of the towel and attic, not only for the puffing sons of Levi (I mean the clergy), but for all who indulge in the much-lauded accomplishment of smoking.

But, my dear Billy, we must not trifle about a matter so grave. Hence, I say, I wish you to
____________
*The Duke of Norfolk has a smoking-room over the upper stories of a quadrangular tower seventy feet high. No domestic economy can be outraged under such precautions.

Can one who makes his throat an open sepulchre [Psalms 5:11 and 13:3; Romans 3:13], his bosom a Vesuvius, emitting fire and smoke on those around him, be a Christian or a gentleman in the best sense? Can one who makes his mouth a distillery of poisonous saliva,—a saliva which blackens his teeth, his gums, his lips, and runs down his chin like Niagara Falla,—be such? Does such a man answer to the idea of an exemplary Christian? Does he present his body a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable, unto his Maker? [Romans 12:1].

If tobacco is a rich dainty, and its use around us pardonable, why should not ladies become its devotées? Why should they be denied a luxury in which their husbands and brothers indulge?

Billy, what if little Kate, that you love so fondly, poisoned her system, polluted her breath, and soiled her lips, with such filthy juices? Would this give endearment to her childish kiss? Would this add to the fragrance of the sweet dew of her lips?

Consider, my Billy, why should not little girls as well as boys, why not ladies as well as men, strut, puff, and chew along our side-walks, load and blast earth and air with this impurity?

What if girls as well as boys should throw off the restraints of decency, and practise this vulgarity; and say in language similar to that trio of loafers,

What should we think of mothers and sisters drenched in such uncleanliness? Could we love and admire them as we now do?

My dear boy, I beg you to understand that there is a connection between purity of body and purity of soul; that cleanliness, in the language of Whitfield, is next to godliness; that a pure heart in a pure body are things

highly valued by your Maker. In the language of an old poet I would say:

My Dear Billy:

In point of affinity and close connection, I call tobacco and rum Siamese Twins. They live în endearing friendship, they nestle in each other's bosom. If Satan ever had twin sons,

Do you know of one drunkard that does not use tobacco? Do you know of one reformed drunkard who has apostatized [relapsed], whose apostacy [relapse] may not, in part, be attributed to tobacco? Do you know of one drunkard who did not use tobacco previously to becoming an inebriate on alcohol?

Now, whatever answers you may obtain, my Billy, rely upon it, you will find the intimacy [cause and effect relationship] of the two as endearing [well-established] as pssible. In some sense, the one leads to the other, the one is indispensable to the other; and, like two accompliahed gamblers, bent on swindling their victims, they play into each other's hands, and steadily maintain a copartnership of villany.

The use of tobacco is among the deadly foes of temperance. It is the nature of this weed to goad [injure] the system onward [severely], and urge it beyond its natural strength, so that prostration or debility [and pain] is the natural result. When the victim is in this overdone [injured] state, and depression weighs down his soul, no hand will elevate him like that of strong drink.

In other words, this pernicious weed brings

Such is the united influence of the stimulant and narcotic qualities of tobacco, that thc thirst [and pain] it occasions [causes] is not to be allayed by ordinary drinks, but wine, ale and brandy must be taken to satisfy this unnatural demand. Hence, the use of it has, in numberless instances, been the precursor of the whiskey-jug and brandy-bottle, which together have plunged their victims into the depths of woe.

I wish to guard you, my nephew, against the bad examples around you. Therefore I tell you plainly that Deacon Janes, Major Gibbs, Ensign Babbet, and Parson Giles, &c., &c., who have talked loud and long against alcohol, but are this day the dupes [addicts] of tobacco, are, in my opinion, but half converted to temperance principles. Shun, my Billy, O, shun the bad example which even these good men set before you! Let them be no stumbling-blocks in your way. There are fathers, also, that abhor intem­perance, but are notoriously intemperate on the tobacco score. How they can expect to raise

John Hawkins says that in all his travels he never saw but one drunkard who did not use tobacco. Your Uncle Toby, my dear boy, never saw even one.

The venerable Doctor Beecher has somewhere said, I am told, that of all the young men who now use this narcotic, and shall continue so to do, it is fair, it is moderate to predict that one to four or five of the number must die a drunkard.

Thoughts like these, my dear fellow, argue dubiously for the temperance cause. If these two narcotics go hand in hand, and the one so often prepares the way for the othcr, then the coming hosts of inebriates threaten to be fear-

I have spoken of intemperance [alcoholism] as springing from the use of tobacco. I might speak in stronger terms. The use of tobacco itself, in multitudes of cases, produces intoxication. The Patagonians get drunk day by day on tobacco. People in the Sandwich Islands have been excluded from the church for getting drunk on tobacco. In my opinion, tobacco-users pretty generally use just enough to carry them to the point of intoxication. They dare not use more under the given circumetances; if they did, they would be on the bed or in the ditch, unfit for business—"all seas over."

You have heard much, my dear Billy, of delirium tremens, and supposed that its horrors could only result from the use of alcohol. This [belief] is a mistake. Cases, I think, are rather clearly made out, both in books and in actual life, in which the disease, in its fiendish and fearful horrors, resulted from the use of tobacco. Yes, though men smile and jest about the custom [of tobacco use], there is often something tragical and mournful, be assured, in the matter.

I can mention men, considered otherwise temperate,—yes, men who are supposed to grace the ranks of temperance,—who have been horrified, and horrified others, by those fiendish horrors of body and soul which mark delirium tremens, and nothing else. I add, in conclusion, if temperance men sometimes act a ridiculous part,—denounce one narcotic and get intoxicated on another, strain at a gnat [Matthew 23:24] and swallow tobacco,—may you my dear fellow, and your comrades, come upon the stage [life] in better shape, and adorn your professions by a consistent life.

"'T is but a drop," the comrades cried,
In truant schoolboy tone;
"It did not hurt us in our robes,
It will not now we're grown."
And so they drank the mixture up,
That reeling, youthful band;
For each had learned to love the taste
From his own father's hand.