ONAN ESCHEWED - Rick Grunder

Orig. red blind-decorated cloth; spine gilt. Faded and with medium fraying to
spine caps, yet not unattractive. A tight copy and internally near-fine. $35
OCLC shows frequent editions from 1850-1871. Overly precious and didactic,
this spiritual text yet manages to drag in masturbation at the "right" place . . .
. . . mark that man who is slowly toiling along the street, leaning upon his cane.
With what difficulty he drags one emaciated leg after the other! How thin and
angular are his form [p. 203 ends] and features! Every slow movement proclaims
his excessive languor There is no health or vigor in his motion. His breath is
short. A weak, hollow cough, distresses him. His face is pale as death. His eyes,
covered with a glassy film, have no expression. His whole appearance is that of
abject misery. . . .
. . . Suppose we ask, "What brought you into this state, friend?"
Hear his reply as he gazes upon us with a look of unutterable despair: "I
brought it all upon myself, BY INDULGENCE IN SOLITARY AND SOCIAL VICES !"
[pp. 203-204]
113 WITHINGTON, Leonard. COBWEBS SWEPT AWAY: Or, Some Popular
Deceptions Exposed. A Sermon Delivered on Fast Day, April 6th, 1837. At the First
Church in Newbury. By Leonard Withington, Pastor of said Church. Published by
Request. Newburyport: Press of Hiram Tozer, 1837.
22 cm. 25 pp. Original printed light blue wrappers. Last line of final page ends,
"might emulate in vain." The American Antiquarian Society notes this version,
plus a variant in which the final line reads "late in vain." Very good; light
foxing. $45
On page 23, Withington seems to issue an unusual warning against masturbation
to young people in the congregation. He never mentions the word, but his
meaning seems open. His remarks are offered in reaction to certain medical
lecturers seeking to make money "who pretend to teach virtue by entering into a
minute specification of all the forms of vice. Such as enter into the physiology of
the human frame; such as debase the public mind by their own polluted
thoughts . . ."
There are some sins, the very worst thing you can do, is to expose them. The
picture, however disgusting, is contagious; and I would say to the youth, who
now hear me, if they really wish to keep clear of the contamination—the only
way is, to dismiss the subject entirely from your thoughts. Keep the mind clear;
be engaged in some useful occupation; remove far from temptation; be happy in
reading, thinking, talking, working, investigating, and you will stand in no need
of a medicine almost as disgusting as the disease itself. I hope, my hearers, that
you are ignorant of that to which I am now alluding; but if not, let me tell you—
118