has yet been adduced proving that moderate smoking is injurious,
though Sir Benjamin Brodie believed that, if accurate statistics could
be obtained, it would be found that the value of life in inveterate
smokers is considerably below the average; and the early deaths of
some of the men whose names are so frequently quoted in defence of
smoking, favours the idea that all smoking is injurious. Few literary
men live out their days. It is a matter of general belief that Mr.
Edward Miall weakened his body and shortened his life through his
habit of incessant smoking. "Bayard Taylor," says Mr. James Parton,
"was always laughing at me for the articles which I wrote in the
_Atlantic Monthly_, one called 'Does it pay to smoke?' and the
other, 'Will the Coming Man drink Wine?' I had ventured to answer both
these questions in the negative. He, on the contrary, not only drank
wine in moderation, but smoked freely, and he was accustomed to point
to his fine proportions and rosy cheeks, comparing them with my own
meagre form, as an argument for the use of those stimulants. 'Well,'
he would say, on meeting me, glancing down at his portly person, and
opening wide his arms, with a cigar in his fingers, 'doesn't it pay to
smoke? How does _this_ look? The coming man may do as he likes;
but the man of the present finds it salutary."' Commenting on Mr.
Taylor's early death, Mr. Parton points out that some fifty New York
journalists have either died in their prime or before reaching their
prime. A similar mortality, he notes, has been observed in England.
Dickens died at 58, and Thackeray at 52. A "great number of lesser
lights have been extinguished that promised to burn with
long-increasing brightness." Mr. Parton asks, "Is there anything in
mental labour hostile to life? Was it over-work that shortened the
lives of these valuable and interesting men?" He thinks not, but that
they died before their time because they did not know how to live.
Like Carlyle, William Howitt was scandalised by the tippling habits of
some of the literary men whom he met, and equally scandalised by their
smoking habits. Replying to a correspondent who urged that most
literary men and artists smoke, he said, "No doubt; and that is what
makes the lives of literary men and artists comparatively so short.
May not too much joviality and too much smoking have a good deal to do
with it? I myself, who have not smoked for these seventy years, have
seen nearly the whole generation of my literary contemporaries pass
away. The other day (Dec. 7, 1878), I ascended in the Tyrol, a
mountain of 5,000 feet, inducting a walk of six or seven miles to it,
and as many back, in company with some friends. I did it easily,
and felt no subsequent fatigue. I would like to see an old smoker of
eighty-six do 'that." There can be no doubt that excessive smoking is
one of the causes of the early deaths of literary men, though not the
greatest The opponents of tobacco have tried to make capital out of
the early death of Jules Noriac, who is reported to have died of
smoker's cancer; but it transpired that he lived very irregularly.
[Footnote: Considerable difference of opinion would appear to exist
among the "chroniqueurs" of the Parisian press as to the real nature
of the malady to which M. Jules Noriac, the witty, humorous, and
observant writer of "The Hundred and First Regiment," the essay on
"Human Stupidity," and numerous dramatic pieces of a more or less
ephemeral kind, has just fallen a victim. It has been generally
understood that M. Noriac died from a mysterious malady which has not
long since been recognised by French physicians as the "smoker's
cancer." It is alleged that the deceased man of letters suffered for
two whole years from the ravages of this dreadful and occult disease,
and that his countenance became so transformed through the wasting
action of the ailment that he could scarcely be recognised even by
his most intimate friends. This statement, could it be substantiated,
would serve as a very powerful argument to those who inveigh against
the use of tobacco. Hitherto the fundamental point on which the
opponents of the weed have dwelt is that as the active principle of
tobacco, nicotine, is acknowledged to be in its isolated form a
poison, its introduction into the system in any shape or form must be
injurious, and that it is difficult to point to any human organ which
may not be detrimentally affected by smoking, snuffing, or chewing.
From a cognate point of view, it is worthy of remark that a
contemporary, in a curiously interesting study of the originals of
the characters in the famous "Scenes de la Vie de Boheme," draws
attention to the circumstance that Henri Murger's consumption of
coffee was so excessive as to bring on fever and delirium. Exhaustion
and nervousness followed; and finally he was attacked by an obscure
disorder of the sympathetic nerves which control the veins, at times
turning his whole body to the colour of purple. The doctors who
treated him seem to have known nothing of the ailment, for they dosed
him with sulphur and aconite. He died a horrible--and very painful
death, at the age of thirty-eight. This was in 1860; but only four
years afterwards we find the English physician quoted above, Dr.
Anstie, in his "Stimulants and Narcotics," recognising "a kind of
chronic narcotism, the very existence of which is usually ignored, but
which is, in truth, well marked and easy to identify as produced by
habitual excess in tea and coffee." The common feature of the disease
is muscular tumour; and out of fifty excessive consumers of tea and
coffee whose cases were noted by Dr. Anstie, there were only five
patients who did not exhibit the symptom named. They were suffering,
in fact, from "theine" poisoning. The paralysing effects of narcotic
doses of tea was further displayed by a particularly obstinate kind
of dyspepsia; while the abuse of coffee disordered the action of the
heart to a distressing degree. The friends and biographers of M.
Jules Noriac are unanimous as to the fact that he was inveterate in
the use of tobacco. He was wont to smoke to the butt-end, one after
the other, the huge cigars sold by the French "Regie," and known as
"Imperiales," and a cynic might opine that if the deceased gentleman
had smoked fragrant Havanas in lieu of the abominable stuff vended by
the "Regie" he would not have been afflicted with the "cancer des
fumeurs," nor with any kindred ailment He kept fearfully late hours,
he worked only at night and he smoked "all the time." If towards
morning he felt somewhat faint he would refresh himself with crusts
of bread soaked in cold water, thus imitating to a certain extent our
William Ptynne, who would from time to time momentarily suspend his
interminable scribble to recruit exhausted nature with a moistened
crust; only the verbose author of "Histriomastix" used to dip his
crusts in Strong ale. And the bitter old pamphleteer, for all that
his ears had been cropped and his cheeks branded by the Star Chamber,
lived to be nearly seventy. Jules Noriac was never to be seen abroad
until noon. His breakfast, like that of most Frenchmen, was
inordinately prolonged; and afterwards rehearsals, business
interviews, dinner, and the play would occupy him until nearly
midnight. His delight was to accompany some friend home, and then
walk the friend, arm-in-arm, backwards and forwards in front of his,
the friend's, door, discoursing of things sublunary and otherwise
until two in the morning. Then he would enter his own house and sit
down, pipe in mouth, to the hard labour of literature until six or
seven in the morning. What kind of slumber could a man, leading such
a life as this, be expected to enjoy? On the whole, it would appear
that M. Jules Noriac's habits were diametrically opposed to the
preservation of health and the prolongation of life, and that he died
quite as much from too much Boulevard and too much night work, as
from too much smoking. There are vast numbers of French journalists
and men of letters who, without being necessarily "Bohemians,"
consume their health and shorten their lives by this continuous and
feverish race against time. Their days are spent chiefly on the
Boulevards or in the cafes, and it is only at the dead of night that
they devote themselves to serious work. The French "savant," On the
other hand, is rarely seen on the Boulevards. It is by day that he
works, and he spends his evening in some tranquil "salon," and lives,
as a rule, till eighty. The painter, again, must be a day worker, if
he wishes to excel as a colourist. He is but a holiday "flaneur" on
the Boulevards. They are but a part of his life; but of the
"chroniqueur" and the "feuilletonniste" out of the small hours
devoted to fagging at the production of "copy," those Boulevards are
the whole existence.--_Daily Telegraph_, October 9, 1882.] On
the other hand, the advocates of tobacco cite Carlyle as a proof that
tobacco does not shorten life. They credit him with saying that he
could never think of this miraculous blessing without being
overwhelmed by a tenderness for which he could find no adequate
expression. No wonder, therefore, that he called his doctor a
"Jackass," who advised him to give up smoking in order to cure
dyspepsia. In Carlyle's case long life was a doubtful advantage, and
in the matter of smoking he did not practice what he preached.
[Footnote: Describing the German Smoking Congress, he said:--Tobacco,
introduced by the Swedish soldiers in the Thirty-years' War, say some,
or even by the English soldiers in the Bohemian or Palatine beginnings
of said war, say others, tobacco once shown them, was enthusiastically
adopted by the German populations, long in want of such an article,
and has done important multifarious functions in that country ever
since. For truly in politics, morality, and all departments of their
practical and speculative affairs we may trace its influences, good
and bad, to this day. Influences generally bad; pacificatory but bad,
engaging you in idle, cloudy dreams; still worse, promoting composure
among the palpably chaotic and discomposed; soothing all things into
lazy peace; that all things may be left to themselves very much, and
to the laws of gravity and decomposition. Whereby German affairs are
come to be greatly overgrown with funguses in our time, and give
symptoms of dry and of wet rot wherever handled.--_History of
Frederick the Great,_ vol. I, p. 387.] Many cases are known to us,
however, where dyspepsia in smokers has been completely cured by the
abandonment of smoking.
The most recent case is that of Dr. Richardson, who was a dyspeptic
during the whole time he was a smoker. "At length," he says, "I
resolved to give up smoking. It was hard work to do so, but I
eventually succeeded, and I have never been more thankful than for the
day on which it was accomplished." In Carlyle's case a six months'
abstinence could not drive out his enemy, which he declared was the
cause of nine-tenths of his misery. A more successful illustration of
the "harmlessness" of stimulants is supplied in Mr. Augustus
Mongredien, well-known as an able expositor of the principles of Free
Trade. He is now 75 years of age, and has smoked moderately all his
life, and for the last fifty years has never, except in rare and short
instances of illness, retired to bed without one tumbler of
whiskey-toddy. But this is an exceptional case of longevity. All the
evidence favours the opinion that tobacco, like alcohol, shortens
life. It is certain that abstinence is beneficial, as shown by the
long lives of some of our hardest brain-workers. It is worthy of note,
too, that all the tough old Frenchmen still in the enjoyment of
unimpaired mental faculties never smoked. M. Dufaure, M. Barthelemy
St. Hilaire, Victor Hugo, M. Etienne Arago, brother of the astronomer,
Abbe Moigno, belong to the non-smoking school of public men. So did M.
Thiers, M. Guizot, M. Cremieux, M. Raspail, and the octogenarian,
Comte Benoit-D'Azy, who died in full possession of his mental
faculties.
Reference has been made to idiosyncrasy, a matter of great importance,
which should be borne in mind when considering the influence of any
habit on the organism, whether animal or human. Professor Christison
cites a remarkable case in which a gentleman unaccustomed to the use
of opium took nearly an ounce of laudanum without any effect. This
form of idiosyncrasy is very rare. Not only are some constitutions
able to bear large doses of poison, but others cannot take certain
kinds of food. Milk, for instance, cannot be taken by one person; pork
by a second; porridge by a third. In the use of the various
stimulants, as in the use of the various foods, the Same difference
prevails among men. "The more I see of life," says Sir Henry Thompson,
"the more I see that we cannot lay down rigid dogmas for everybody;"
and I have come to the same conclusion that it is unsafe to make one
man's experience another man's guide. Kant could work eight hours a
day after drinking a cup of tea and smoking a pipe of tobacco.
Professor Mayor finds that a day or two's fasting does him no harm,
and he thrives on "dry bread and water." Professor Boyd Dawkins finds
quinine the best stimulant; Darwin found a stimulant in snuff; Edison
finds one in chewing; Professor Haeckel finds coffee the best, and Mr.
Francillon and Mark Twain bear testimony to the value of smoking.
These differences point to the conclusion that the same rules cannot
be laid down for all. One thing is clear, however, that our best
writers, clearest thinkers, and greatest scholars do not regard the
use of alcohol as essential to thinking, and very few find tobacco an
aid. With one or two exceptions, the writers take care to minimise the
dangers incurred in the use of stimulants. Though they smoke, they
smoke the weakest tobacco; though they drink, they drink only at
meals. They work in the day time, take plenty of out-door exercise,
and rest when they are tired. Many regard tobacco as a snare and a
delusion; and all regard it as unnecessary for the brain of the
youthful student. The greatest workers and thinkers of the middle
ages, Dr. Russell remarks, never used it; [Footnote: Homer sang his
deathless song, Raphael painted his glorious Madonnas, Luther
preached, Guttenberg printed, Columbus discovered a New World before
tobacco was heard of. No rations of tobacco were served out to the
heroes of Thermopylae, no cigar strung up the nerves of Socrates.
Empires rose and fell, men lived and loved and died during long ages,
without tobacco. History was for the most part written before its
appearance. "It is the solace, the aider, the familiar spirit of the
thinker," cries the apologist; yet Plato the Divine thought without
its aid, Augustine described the glories of God's city, Dante sang his
majestic melancholy song, Savonarola reasoned and died, Alfred ruled
well and wisely without it. Tyrtaeus sang his patriotic song, Roger
Bacon dived deep into Nature's secrets, the wise Stagirite sounded the
depths of human wisdom, equally unaided by it Harmodius and
Aristogeiton twined the myrtle round their swords, and slew the tyrant
of their fatherland, without its inspiration. In a word, kings ruled,
poets sung, artists painted, patriots bled, martyrs suffered, thinkers
reasoned, before it was known or dreamed of.--_Quarterly Journal of
Science_, 1873.] and Mr. Watts thinks that its introduction by
civilised races has been an unmixed evil. It is a remarkable fact that
out of 20 men of science, only two smoke, one of whom, Professor
Huxley, did not commence until he was forty years of age. Even among
those who smoke there is a considerable difference in the times chosen
for smoking. Though the Rev. A. Plummer declares himself a firm
believer in the use of tobacco, he smokes _before_ work,
_after_ work, rarely while at work. Mr. Wilkie Collins smokes
after work, and Mr. James Payn smokes all the time he is working. Mr.
Francillon's consumption of tobacco, and his power of work, are in
almost exact proportion. Similar testimony comes from Mark Twain.
Assuming that the prince of American humorists is not joking, his
experience of cigar-smoking is unique. When Charles Lamb was asked how
he had acquired the art of smoking, he answered, "By toiling after it
as some men toil after virtue." I hope that young smokers will not
conclude that by following the example of Mark Twain, their brain will
become as fertile as his. To them tobacco is bad in any form. It
poisons their blood, stunts their growth, weakens the mind, and makes
them lazy. "It is not easy," says Mr. Ruskin, "to estimate the
demoralizing effect of the cigar on the youth of Europe in enabling
them to pass their time happily in idleness." It has been forbidden at
Annapolis, the Naval School, and at West Point, the Military Academy
of the United States, having been found injurious to the health,
discipline, and power of study of the students. "At Harvard College,"
says Dr. Dio Lewis, "no young man addicted to the use of tobacco has
graduated at the head of his class;" and at the lycees of Douai, Saint
Quentin, and Chambery it has been found that the smokers are inferior
to non-smokers. No public enquiry has yet been made as to the
influence of tobacco upon English youths, but I am assured by several
leading schoolmasters that the smokers are invariably the worst
scholars. It cannot be too widely known, therefore, that tobacco, like
alcohol, is of no advantage to a healthy student, and I advise young
men to avoid it altogether. Darwin regretted that he had acquired the
habit of snuff taking, and Mr. Sala says that had he his life to live
over again, he would never touch tobacco in any shape or form. Never
begun, never needed. "I do not advise you, young man," says Oliver
Wendell Holmes, "to consecrate the flower of your life to painting
the bowl of a pipe, for, let me assure you, the stain of a
reverie-breeding narcotic may strike deeper than you think. I have
seen the green leaf of early promise grown brown before its time under
such nicotian regimen, and thought the amber'd meerschaum was dearly
bought at the cost of a brain enfeebled and a will enslaved."
My conclusions, then, are as follows:--
1.--Alcohol and tobacco are no value to a healthy student.
2.--That the most vigorous thinkers and hardest workers abstain from
both stimulants.
3.--That those who have tried both moderation and total abstinence
find the latter the more healthful practice.
4.--That almost every brain-worker would be the better for abstinence.
5.--That the most abstruse calculations may be made, and the most
laborious mental work performed, without artificial stimulus.
6.--That all work done under the influence of _alcohol_ is
unhealthy work.
7.--That the only pure brain stimulants are _external_ ones--
fresh air, cold water; walking, riding, and other out-door exercises.
INDEX.
Abstinence and dyspepsia
Do. benefits of
Alcohol dangerous
Do. a stupefier
Do. and speech-making
Do. not a necessity
Do. hurtful to the liver
Do. a restorative
Do. useful under exceptional circumstances
Do. and digestion
Do. as a medicine
Do. and gout
Do. bad for rheumatism
Do. as a soother
Do. as a stimulant to the brain
Do. necessity of, to aid the subsidence of the brain
Do. abstinence from, followed by over-eating
Do. and longevity
Air, fresh, importance of
American boys, tobacco forbidden to
Athletics, love of
Balzac quoted
Best time for working
Brain-work non-natural
Brain-work and biliousness
Byron's temperament
Carlyle, inconsistency of
Carpenter, Dr. Alfred, quoted
Chewing as a stimulant
City life, exhausting and unwholesome nature of
Cobbett's abstemiousness
Coffee, a slow poison
Do. as a stimulant
College drunkenness
Conscientious writing
Country pursuits, value of
Depression, the remedy for
Drunkards among literary men
Dyspepsia, cures for
Early rising, value of
Exercise, importance of, to brain-workers
Eyesight injured by alcohol and tobacco
French boys, smoking forbidden to
Do. literature, the cause of the sickly productions in
Frenchmen, a group of old
Genius and alcohol
German smokers
Goethe quoted
Gout and alcohol
Hoffman's stories
Howard's, John, abstemiousness
Hugo, Victor, value of fresh air to
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, quoted
Idiosyncracy
Idleness induced by smoking
Do. do. drinking
Imagination, the, stimulated by tobacco
Indigestion and smoking
Infection, tobacco a protection against
Johnson, Dr., a glutton
Journalists, use of alcohol by
Juvenile smoking, evils of
Lamb, Charles, quoted
Leisure, how to gain
Life, agreeableness of, promoted by the use of alcohol
Do. do. do. non-use of alcohol
Literary life in London, dangers of
Longevity and alcohol
Do. and tobacco
Lynch, T. T., quoted
Manzoni and nervous distraction
Mill, John Stuart, practice of
Miall, Edward, an incessant smoker
Mortality of literary men
Nervous excitement and composition
Niebuhr's habits
Night thoughts
Night work, value of
Noriac, Jules, habits of
Opium, use of, by literary men
Pain no drawback to mental work
Parton, James, quoted
Permissive Bill
Physicians, advice of, to brain-workers
Quinine as a stimulant
Riding, value of
Rules, impossibility of laying down, for all
Ruskin, Mr., quoted
Sleep the best stimulant
Smoking, first effects of
Smoking and working
Smoking and digestion
Smoking a sedative
Do. a vile and odious practice
Do. a cure for excitable nerves
Do. a disinfectant
Do. a greater evil than drinking
Smoke drunk
Smoking and longevity
Snuff as a stimulant
Snuff-taking and the memory
Speech-making and alcohol
Stimulants and unhealthy work
Do. reactionary
Do. a judicious use of
Do. a taste for, imparted to children
Taylor, Bayard, quoted
Tea, effects of
Teetotalism, a generator of due disease
Thackeray, value of alcohol to
Tobacco, soothing influences of
Tobacco and exposure
Do. and nerve
Do. cost of
Do. and longevity
Do. and sleeplessness
Do. and the memory
Travelling, benefits of
Vegetarianism, practice of
Walking, value of
Webster, Daniel, value of alcohol to
Wilson's "Noctes," how produced
Wordsworth on poetic excitement
Wesley's abstemiousness
Working, best time for
Youths injured by smoking