Texas Baptist [Anderson, TX], January 5, 1860
For the Texas Baptist .
Brother Baines: A certain habit has become prevalent among men to an alarming extent, which I never can think of without feelings of the most unfeigned disgust. I allude to the unnatural consumption of tobacco, whether in pipes, cigars or quids. The use of tobacco by professed gentlemen has absolutely become a universal nuisance. It seems impossible for men to become addicted to any other habit in society that could, in degree of filthiness, afford a parallel to this.
The filthy worm that preys upon the green tobacco leaf, and draws its nourishment from the foul plant, is, without dispute, a most loathsome object to behold; yet, it can hardly be said to equal in this respect the shameless biped who robs it of the noxious food nature has prepared for its use.
When I see a man who once had brains, now stuffing his cheeks with foul, unwholesome tobacco quids, I cannot help thinking, “alas, my countryman, what a fall is here.” And that [hole in paper] same gentlemen, who [hole in newspaper] immolated themselves, as it were, upon the altar of stupidity and extravagance, still stalking about among human beings, and claiming the dignity of a place among men, I am made to wonder how it is that the noxious weed that stultifies their brains can still serve to stimulate them in such a presumptuous conceit. Verily, tobacco consumers deserve, and I think it is high time they should receive, the unsparing denunciations and censures of the more intelligent and refined portion of society. I repeat, the thing has actually become an insupportable nuisance, and I do think that forbearance longer ceases to be a virtue, for it is no unusual or strange thing now-a-days to see the stupid beings who use tobacco thrusting themselves even into the society of ladies, while their very breath is constantly emitting a most nauseous tobacco stench. I really think there is hardly any one in this country, of refined feelings, that has not been repeatedly shocked at witnessing these creatures discharging their venomous saliva (except the pint or two that creeps unbidden down their chins) in disgusting profusion upon the floors of church houses, school rooms and even private residences. It is a sad annoyance to decent persons only to behold it, but to be constrained to sit among it, and inhale the foul effusion, at the imminent hazard of forever ruining every book, paper and garment that accidentally touches the floor, is positively too horrible to be borne.
In some slight hope of reform among the “lords of creation,” I subscribe myself your sister,
Caroline.
Bonham, Dec. 1859.