2. The person who chews tobacco, generally puts a piece in his mouth immediately after eating. This is immediately moved from place to place, and not only performs, in some measure, the offices of a brush and toothpick, but produces a sudden flow of saliva; and in consequence of both of these causes combined, the teeth are effectually cleansed; and cleanliness is undoubtedly one of the most effectual preventives of decay in teeth yet known. Yet there are far better means of cleansing the mouth and teeth after eating than by means of tobacco.
If there be any other known reasons why tobacco should preserve teeth, I am ignorant of them. There are then no arguments of any weight for using it; while there are a multitude of very strong reasons against it. I might add them, in this place, but it appears to me unnecessary.
3. TAKING SNUFF
I have seen many individuals who would not, on any account whatever, use spirits, or chew tobacco; but who would not hesitate to dry up their nasal membranes, injure their speech, induce catarrhal affections, and besmear their face, clothes, books, &c. with snuff. This, however common, appears to me ridiculous. Almost all the serious evils which result from smoking and chewing, follow the practice of snuffing powdered tobacco into the nose. Even Chesterfield opposes it, when after characterizing all use of tobacco or snuff, in any form, as both vulgar and filthy, he adds: 'Besides, snuff-takers are generally very dull and shallow people, and have recourse to it merely as a fillip to the brain; by all means, therefore, avoid the filthy custom.' This censure, though rather severe, is equally applicable to smoking and chewing.
Naturalists say there is one species of maggot fly that mistakes the odor of some kinds of snuff for that of putrid substances, and deposits its eggs in it. In warm weather therefore, it must be dangerous to take snuff which has been exposed to these insects; for the eggs sometimes hatch in two hours, and the most tremendous consequences might follow. And it is not impossible that some of the most painful diseases to which the human race are liable, may have been occasionally produced by this or a similar cause. The 'tic douloureux' is an example.
A very common disease in sheep is known to be produced by worms in cavities which communicate with the nose. Only a little acquaintance with the human structure would show that there are a number of cavities in the bones of the face and head, some of which will hold half an ounce each, which communicate with the nose, and into which substances received into this organ occasionally fall, but cannot escape as easily as they enter.
Section V. Useful Recreations
The young, I shall be told, must and will have their recreations; and if they are to be denied every species of gaming, what shall they do? 'You would not, surely, have them spend their leisure hours in gratifying the senses; in eating, drinking, and licentiousness.'
By no means. Recreations they must have; active recreation, too, in the open air. Some of the most appropriate are playing ball, quoits, ninepins, and other athletic exercises; but in no case for money, or any similar consideration. Skating is a good exercise in its proper season, if followed with great caution. Dancing, for those who sit much, such as pupils in school, tailors and shoemakers, would be an appropriate exercise, if it were not perpetually abused. By assembling in large crowds, continuing it late at evening, and then sallying out in a perspiration, into the cold or damp night air, a thousand times more mischief has been done, than all the benefit which it has afforded would balance. It were greatly to be wished that this exercise might be regulated by those rules which human experience has indicated, instead of being subject to the whim and caprice of fashion. It is a great pity an exercise so valuable to the sedentary, and especially those who sit much, of both sexes, should be so managed as to injure half the world, and excite against it the prejudices of the other half.
I have said that the young must have recreations, and generally in the open air. The reason why they should usually be conducted in the open air, is, that their ordinary occupations too frequently confine them within doors, and of course in an atmosphere more or less vitiated. Farmers, gardeners, rope makers, and persons whose occupations are of an active nature, do not need out-of-door sports at all. Their recreations should be by the fire side. Not with cards or dice, nor in the company of those whose company is not worth having. But the book, the newspaper, conversation, or the lyceum, will be the appropriate recreations for these classes, and will be found in the highest degree satisfactory. For the evening, the lyceum is particularly adapted, because laboring young men are often too much fatigued at night, to think, closely; and the lyceum, or conversation, will be more agreeable, and not less useful. But the family circle may of itself constitute a lyceum, and the book or the newspaper may be made the subject of discussion. I have known the heads of families in one neighborhood greatly improved, and the whole neighborhood derive an impulse, from the practice of meeting one evening in the week, to read the news together, and converse on the more interesting intelligence of the day.
Some strongly recommend 'the sports of the field,' and talk with enthusiasm of 'hunting, coursing, fishing;' and of 'dogs and horses.' But these are no recreations for me. True they are healthy to the body; but not to the morals. This I say confidently, although some of my readers may smile, and call it an affectation of sensibility. Yet with Cowper,
'I would not enter on my list of friends
The man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.'
If the leading objects of field sports were to procure sustenance, I would not say a word. But the very term sports, implies something different. And shall we sport with life—even that of the inferior animals? That which we cannot give, shall we presumptuously dare to take away, and as our only apology say, 'Am I not in sport?'
Besides, other amusements equally healthy, and if we are accustomed to them, equally pleasant, and much more rational, can be substituted. What they are, I have mentioned, at least in part. How a sensible man, and especially a Christian, can hunt or fish, when he would not do it, were it not for the pleasure he enjoys in the cruelty it involves;—how, above all, a wise father can recommend it to his children, or to others, I am utterly unable to conceive!
CHAPTER IV.
Improvement of the Mind
Section I. Habit of Observation
'Your eyes open, your thoughts close, will go safe through the world,' is a maxim which some have laid down; but it savors rather too much of selfishness. 'You may learn from others all you can, but you are to give them as little opportunity as possible for learning from you,' seems to be the language, properly interpreted. Suppose every one took the advice, and endeavored to keep his thoughts close, for fear he should either be misunderstood, or thought wanting in wisdom; what would become of the pleasures of conversation? Yet these make up a very considerable item of the happiness of human life.
I have sometimes thought with Dr. Rush, that taciturnity, though often regarded as a mark of wisdom, is rather the effect of a 'want of ideas.' The doctor mentions the taciturnity of the American Indians as a case in point. Even in civilized company, he believes that with one or two exceptions, an indisposition to join in conversation 'in nine cases out of ten, is a mark of stupidity,' and presently adds; 'Ideas, whether acquired from books or by reflection, produce a plethora in the mind, which can only be relieved by depletion from the pen or tongue.'
'Keep your eyes open,' however, is judicious advice. How many who have the eyes of their body open, keep the eyes of the soul perpetually shut up. 'Seeing, they see not.' Such persons, on arriving at the age of three or four score, may lay claim to superior wisdom on account of superior age, but their claims ought not to be admitted. A person who has the eyes both of his mind and body open, will derive more wisdom from one year's experience, than those who neglect to observe for themselves, from ten. Thus at thirty, with ten years acquaintance with men, manners and things, a person may be wiser than another at three times thirty, with seven times ten years of what he calls experience. Sound practical wisdom, cannot, it is true, be rapidly acquired any where but in the school of experience, but the world abounds with men who are old enough to be wise, and yet are very ignorant. Let it be your fixed resolution not to belong to this class.
But in order to have the mental eyes open, the external eyes should be active. We should, as a general rule, see what is going on around us. There are indeed seasons, occurring in the school or the closet, when abstraction is desirable; but speaking generally, we should 'keep our eyes open.'
It is hence easy to see why some men who are accounted learned, are yet in common life very great fools. Is it not because their eyes have been shut to every thing but books, and schools, and colleges, and universities?
The late Dr. Dwight was an eminent instance of keeping up an acquaintance both with books, and the world in which he lived and acted. In his walks, or wherever he happened to be, nothing could escape his eye. 'Not a bird could fly up,' says one of his students, 'but he observed it.' And he endeavored to establish the same habit of observation in others. Riding in a chaise, one day, with a student of his, who was apt to be abstracted from surrounding things, he suddenly exclaimed, almost indignant at his indifference, 'S– keep your eyes open!' The lesson was not lost. It made a deep impression on the mind of the student. Though by no means distinguished in his class, he has outstripped many, if not the most of them, in actual and practical usefulness; and to this hour, he attributes much of his success to the foregoing circumstance.
There is a pedantry in these things, however, which is not only fulsome, but tends to defeat our very purpose. It is not quite sufficient that we merely bestow a passing glance on objects, they must strike deep. If they do not, they had better not have been seen at all; since the habit of 'seeing not,' while we appear to 'see,' has been all the while strengthening.
It cannot be denied that a person who shall take the advice I have given, may, with a portion of his fellow men, gain less credit than if he adopted a different course. There is a certain surgeon, in one of the New England States, who has acquired much popularity by reading as he travels along. Seldom or never, say his admirers, is he seen in his carriage without a book in his hand, or at his side. But such popularity is usually of a mushroom character. There may be pressing occasions which render it the duty of a surgeon to consult his books, while in his carriage; but these occasions can never be of frequent occurrence. It is far better that he should be reading lessons from the great and open volume of nature.
Nor does it add, in any degree, to the just respect due to the wisdom of either of the Plinys, that the elder 'never travelled without a book and a portable writing desk by his side,' and that the younger read upon all occasions, whether riding, walking, or sitting.' I cannot doubt that, wise as they were in books and philosophy, they would have secured a much greater fund of practical wisdom, had they left their books and writing desks at home, and 'kept their eyes open' to surrounding objects.
There is another thing mentioned of Pliny the elder, which is equally objectionable. It is said that a person read to him during his meals. I have given my views on this point in Chapter I.
Section II. Rules for Conversation
The bee has the art of extracting honey from every flower which contains it, even from some which are not a little nauseous or poisonous. It has also been said that the conversation of every individual, whatever may be the condition of his mind or circumstances, may be made a means of improvement. How happy would it be, then, if man possessed the skill of the bee, and knew how to extract the good, and reject the bad or useless!
Something on this subject is, indeed, known. There are rules, by the observance of which we may derive much valuable information from the conversation of those among whom we live, even though it should relate to the most ordinary subjects and concerns. And not only so, we may often devise means to change the conversation, either directly, by gradually introducing other topics of discourse, or indirectly, by patient attempts to enlarge and improve and elevate the minds of our associates.
Every individual has excellences; and almost every person, however ignorant, has thought upon some one subject more than many,—perhaps most—others. Some excel in the knowledge of husbandry, some in gardening, some in mechanics, or manufactures, some in mathematics, and so on. In all your conversation, then, it will be well to ascertain as nearly as you can wherein the skill and excellence of an individual lies, and put him upon his favorite subject. Nor is this difficult. Every one will, of his own accord, fall to talking on his favorite topic, if you will follow, and not attempt to lead him.
Except in a few rare cases, every one wishes to be the hero of the circle where he is conversing. If, therefore, you seek to improve in the greatest possible degree, from the conversation of those among whom you may be thrown, you will suffer a companion to take his own course, and 'out of the abundance of his heart,' let his 'mouth speak.' By this means you may easily collect the worth and excellence of every one you meet with; and be able to put it together for your own use upon future occasions.
The common objections to the views here presented, are, that they encourage dissimulation. But this does not appear to me to be the fact. In suffering a person, for the space of a single conversation, to be the hero of the circle, we do not of necessity concede his superiority generally; we only help him to be useful to the company. It often happens that you are thrown among persons whom you cannot benefit by becoming the hero of the circle yourself, for they will not listen to you; and perhaps will not understand your terms, if they do. If, however, there appear to be others in the company whose object, like your own, is improvement, you might expose yourself to the just charge of being selfish, should you refuse to converse upon your own favorite topics in your turn; and thus to let the good deed go round.
Never interrupt another, but hear him out. You will understand him the better for it, and be able to give him the better answer. If you only give him an opportunity, he may say something which you have not yet heard, or explain what you did not fully understand, or even mention something which you did not expect.
There are individuals with whom you may occasionally come in contact, from whose conversation you will hardly derive much benefit at all. Such are those who use wanton, or obscene, or profane language. For, besides the almost utter hopelessness of deriving any benefit from such persons, and the pain you must inevitably suffer in hearing them, you put your own reputation at hazard. 'A man is known by the company he keeps;' take care therefore how you frequent the company of the swearer or the sensualist. Avoid, too, the known liar, for similar reasons.
If you speak in company, it is not only modest but wise to speak late; for by this means, you will be able to render your conversation more acceptable, and to weigh beforehand the importance of what you utter; and you will be less likely to violate the good old rule, 'think twice before you speak once.' Let your words be as few as will express the sense which you wish to convey, especially when strangers or men of much greater experience than yourself are present; and above all, be careful that what you say be strictly true.
Do not suffer your feelings to betray you into too great earnestness, or vehemence; and never be overbearing. Avoid triumphing over an antagonist, even though you might reasonably do so. You gain nothing. On the contrary, you often confirm him in his erroneous opinions. At least, you prejudice him against yourself. Zimmerman insists that we should suffer an antagonist to get the victory over us occasionally, in order to raise his respect for himself. All finesse of this kind, however, as Christians, I think it better to avoid.
Section III. On Books, and Study
It may excite some surprise that books, and study, do not occupy a more conspicuous place in this work. There are several reasons for this circumstance. The first is, a wish to counteract the prevailing tendency to make too much of books as a means of forming character. The second is, because the choice of these depends more upon parents and teachers than upon the individual himself; and if they have neglected to lay the foundation of a desire for mental improvement, there is less probability that any advice I may give on this subject will be serviceable, than on most others.
And yet, no young man, at any age, ought to despair of establishing such habits of body and mind as he believes would contribute to his usefulness. He hates the sight of a book perhaps; but what then? This prejudice may, in a measure, be removed. Not at once, it is true, but gradually. Not by compelling himself to read or study against his inclination; for little will be accomplished when it goes 'against the grain.' But there are means better and more effective than these; some of which I will now proceed to point out.
Let him attach himself to some respectable lyceum or debating society. Most young men are willing to attend a lyceum, occasionally; and thanks to the spirit of the times and those who have zealously labored to produce the present state of things, these institutions every where abound. Let him now and then take part in a discussion, if it be, at first, only to say a few words. The moment he can awaken an interest in almost any subject whatever, that moment he will, of necessity, seek for information in regard to it. He will seek it, not only in conversation, but in newspapers. These, if well selected, will in their turn refer him to books of travels. Gradually he will find histories, if not written in too dry a manner, sources of delight. Thus he will proceed, step by step, till he finds himself quite attached to reading of various descriptions.
There is one caution to be observed here, which is, not to read too long or too much at once. Whenever a book, or even a newspaper, begins to be irksome, let it be laid aside for the time. In this way you will return to it, at the next leisure moment, with increased pleasure.
A course not unlike that which I have been describing, faithfully and perseveringly followed, would in nine cases in ten, be successful. Indeed, I never yet knew of a single failure. One great point is, to be thoroughly convinced of its importance. No young man can reasonably expect success, unless he enters upon his work with his whole heart, and pursues it with untiring assiduity.
Of the necessity of improvement, very few young men seem to have doubts. But there is a difficulty which many feel, which it will require no little effort to remove, because it is one of long standing, and wrought into all the arrangements of civilized society. I allude to the prevailing impression that very little can be done to improve the mind beyond a certain age, and the limit is often fixed at eighteen or twenty years. We hear it, indeed, asserted, that nothing can be done after thirty; but the general belief is that most men cannot do much after twenty: or at least that it will cost much harder effort and study.
Now, I would be the last to encourage any young person in wasting, or even undervaluing his early years; for youth is a golden period, and every moment well spent will be to the future what good seed, well planted in its season, is to the husbandman.
The truth is, that what we commonly call a course of education, is only a course which prepares a young man to educate himself. It is giving him the keys of knowledge. But who will sit down contentedly and cease to make effort, the moment he obtains the keys to the most valuable of treasures? It is strange, indeed, that we should so long have talked of finishing an education, when we have only just prepared ourselves to begin it.
If any young man at twenty, twenty-five, or thirty, finds himself ignorant, whether the fault is his own or that of others, let him not for one single moment regard his age as presenting a serious obstacle to improvement. Should these remarks meet the eye of any such individual, let me prevail with him, when I urge him to make an effort. Not a momentary effort, either; let him take time for his experiment. Even Rome was not built in a day; and he who thinks to build up a well regulated and highly enlightened mind in a few weeks, or even months, has yet to learn the depths of his own ignorance.
It would be easy to cite a long list of men who commenced study late in life, and yet finally became eminent; and this, too, with no instructors but themselves and their books. Some have met with signal success, who commenced after forty years of age. Indeed, no reason can be shown, why the mind may not improve as long, at least, as the body. But all experience goes to prove that with those whose habits are judicious, the physical frame does not attain perfection, in every respect, till thirty-five or forty.
It is indeed said that knowledge, if it could be acquired thus late in life, would be easily forgotten. This is true, if it be that kind of knowledge for which we have no immediate use. But if it be of a practical character, it will not fail to be remembered. Franklin was always learning, till death. And what he learned he seldom forgot, because he had an immediate use for it. I have said, it is a great point to be convinced of the importance of knowledge. I might add that it is a point of still greater consequence to feel our own ignorance. 'To know ourselves diseased, (morally) is half our cure.' To know our own ignorance is the first step to knowledge; and other things being alike, our progress in knowledge will generally be in proportion to our sense of the want of it.
The strongest plea which indolence is apt to put in, is, that we have no time for study. Many a young man has had some sense of his own ignorance, and a corresponding thirst for knowledge, but alas! the idea was entertained that he had no time to read—no time to study—no time to think. And resting on this plea as satisfactory, he has gone down to the grave the victim not only of indolence and ignorance, but perhaps of vice;—vice, too, which he might have escaped with a little more general intelligence.
No greater mistake exists than that which so often haunts the human mind, that we cannot find time for things; things, too, which we have previously decided for ourselves that we ought to do. Alfred, king of England, though he performed more business than almost any of his subjects, found time for study. Franklin, in the midst of all his labors, found time to dive into the depths of philosophy, and explore an untrodden path of science. Frederick the Great, with an empire at his direction, in the midst of war, and on the eve of battles, found time to revel in all the charms of philosophy, and to feast himself on the rich viands of intellect. Bonaparte, with Europe at his disposal, with kings at his ante-chamber begging for vacant thrones, and at the head of thousands of men whose destinies were suspended on his arbitrary pleasure, had time to converse with books. Cæsar, when he had curbed the spirits of the Roman people, and was thronged with visitors from the remotest kingdoms, found time for intellectual cultivation. The late Dr. Rush, and the still later Dr. Dwight, are eminent instances of what may be done for the cultivation of the mind, in the midst of the greatest pressure of other occupation.
On this point, it may be useful to mention the results of my own observation. At no period of my life am I conscious of having made greater progress than I have sometimes done while laboring in the summer; and almost incessantly too. It is true, I read but little; yet that little was well understood and thoroughly digested. Almost all the knowledge I possess of ancient history was obtained in this way, in one year. Of course, a particular knowledge could not be expected, under such circumstances; but the general impressions and leading facts which were imbibed, will be of very great value to me, as I trust, through life. And I am acquainted with one or two similar instances.
It is true that mechanics and manufacturers, as well as men of most other occupations, find fewer leisure hours than most farmers. The latter class of people are certainly more favorably situated than any other. But it is also true that even the former, almost without exception, can command a small portion of their time every day, for the purposes of mental improvement, if they are determined on it. Few individuals can be found in the community, who have not as much leisure as I had during the summer I have mentioned. The great point is to have the necessary disposition to improve it; and a second point, of no small importance, is to have at hand, proper means of instruction. Of the latter I shall speak presently.
The reason why laboring men make such rapid progress in knowledge, in proportion to the number of hours they devote to study, appears to me obvious. The mental appetite is keen, and they devour with a relish. What little they read and understand, is thought over, and perhaps conversed upon, during the long interval; and becomes truly the property of the reader. Whereas those who make study a business, never possess a healthy appetite for knowledge; they are always cloyed, nothing is well digested; and the result of their continued effort is either a superficial or a distorted view of a great many things, without a thorough or practical understanding of any.
I do not propose, in a work of this kind, to recommend to young men what particular books on any subject they ought to study. First, because it is a matter of less importance than many others, and I cannot find room to treat of every thing.
He who has the determination to make progress, will do so, either with or without books, though these are certainly useful. But an old piece of newspaper, or a straggling leaf from some book, or an inscription on a monument, or the monument itself—and works of nature as well as of art, will be books to him. Secondly, because there is such an extensive range for selection. But, thirdly, because it may often be left to the reader's own taste and discretion. He will probably soon discover whether he is deriving solid or permanent benefit from his studies, and govern himself accordingly. Or if he have a friend at hand, who will be likely to make a judicious selection, with a proper reference to his actual progress and wants, he would do wrong not to avail himself of that friend's opinion.
I will now mention a few of the particular studies to which he who would educate himself for usefulness should direct his attention.
1. GEOGRAPHY
As it is presumed that every one whom I address reads newspapers more or less, I must be permitted to recommend that you read them with good maps of every quarter of the world before you, and a geography and correct gazetteer at hand. When a place is mentioned, observe its situation on the map, read an account of it in the gazetteer, and a more particular description in the geography. Or if you choose to go through with the article, and get some general notions of the subject, and afterwards go back and read it a second time, in the manner proposed, to this I have no objection.
Let me insist, strongly, on the importance of this method of reading. It may seem slow at first; but believe me, you will be richly repaid in the end. Even in the lyceum, where the subject seems to demand it, and the nature of the case will admit, it ought to be required of lecturers and disputants, to explain every thing in passing, either by reference to books themselves on the spot, or by maps, apparatus, diagrams, &c; with which, it is plain, that every lyceum ought to be furnished. The more intelligent would lose nothing, while the less so, would gain much, by this practice. The expense of these things, at the present time, is so trifling, that no person, or association of persons, whose object is scientific improvement, should, by any means, dispense with them.
No science expands the mind of a young man more, at the same time that it secures his cheerful attention, than geography—I mean if pursued in the foregoing manner. Its use is so obvious that the most stupid cannot fail to see it. Much is said, I know, of differences of taste on this, as well as every other subject; but I can hardly believe that any young person can be entirely without taste for geographical knowledge. It is next to actual travels; and who does not delight in seeing new places and new objects?
2. HISTORY
Next in order as regards both interest and importance, will be a knowledge of history, with some attention at the same time to chronology. Here, too, the starting point will be the same as in the former case. Some circumstance or event mentioned at the lyceum, or in the newspaper, will excite curiosity, and lead the way to inquiry. I think it well, however, to have but one leading science in view at a time; that is, if geography be the object, let history and almost every thing else be laid aside for that time, in order to secure, and hold fast the geographical information which is needed. After a few weeks or months, should he wish to pursue history, let the student, for some time confine himself chiefly, perhaps exclusively, to that branch.