14887	----	Proofreading Team. [Illustration: (Smoker)] PIPE AND POUCH THE SMOKER'S OWN BOOK OF POETRY COMPILED BY JOSEPH KNIGHT [Illustration] BOSTON JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY 1895 * * * * * _COPYRIGHT, 1894,_ BY JOSEPH KNIGHT. UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. * * * * * DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND AND FELLOW-SMOKER, WALTER MONTGOMERY JACKSON. * * * * * PREFACE. This is an age of anthologies. Collections of poetry covering a wide range of subjects have appeared of late, and seem to have met with favor and approval. Not to the busy man only, but to the student of literature such compilations are of value. It is sometimes objected that they tend to discourage wide reading and original research; but the overwhelming flood of books would seem to make them a necessity. Unless one has the rare gift of being able to sprint through a book, as Andrew Lang says Mr. Gladstone does, it is surely well to make use of the labors of the industrious compiler. Such collections are often the result of wide reading and patient labor. Frequently the larger part is made up of single poems, the happy and perhaps only inspiration of the writer, gleaned from the poet's corner of the newspaper or the pages of a magazine. This is specially true of the present compilation, the first on the subject aiming at anything like completeness. Brief collections of prose and poetry combined have already been published; but so much of value has been omitted that there seemed to be room for a better book. A vast amount has been written in praise of tobacco, much of it commonplace or lacking in poetic quality. While some of the verse here gathered is an obvious echo, or passes into unmistakable parody, it has been the aim of the compiler to maintain, as far as possible, a high standard and include only the best. From the days of Raleigh to the present time, literature abounds in allusions to tobacco. The Elizabethan writers constantly refer to it, often in praise though sometimes in condemnation. The incoming of the "Indian weed" created a great furore, and scarcely any other of the New World discoveries was talked about so much. Ben Jonson, Marlowe, Fletcher, Spenser, Dekker, and many other of the poets and dramatists of the time, make frequent reference to it; and no doubt at the Mermaid tavern, pipes and tobacco found a place beside the sack and ale. Singular to say, Shakespeare makes no reference to it; and only once in his essay "Of Plantations," as far as the compiler has been able to discover, does Bacon speak of it. Shakespeare's silence has been explained on the theory that he could not introduce any reference to the newly discovered plant without anachronism; but he did not often let a little thing of this kind stand in his way. It has been suggested, on the other hand, that he avoided all reference to it out of deference to King James I., who wrote the famous "Counterblast." Whichever theory is correct, the fact remains, and it may be an interesting contribution to the Bacon-Shakespeare controversy. Queen Elizabeth never showed any hostility to tobacco; but her successors, James I. and the two Charleses, and Cromwell were its bitter opponents. Notwithstanding its enemies, who just as fiercely opposed the introduction of tea and coffee, its use spread over Europe and the world, and prince and peasant alike yielded to its mild but irresistible sway. Poets and philosophers drew solace and inspiration from the pipe. Milton, Addison, Fielding, Hobbes, and Newton were all smokers. It is said Newton was smoking under a tree in his garden when the historic apple fell. Scott, Campbell, Byron, Hood, and Lamb all smoked, and Carlyle and Tennyson were rarely without a pipe in their mouths. The great novelists, Thackeray, Dickens, and Bulwer were famous smokers; and so were the great soldiers, Napoleon, Blücher, and Grant. While nearly all the poems here gathered together were written, and perhaps could only have been written, by smokers, several among the best are the work of authors who never use the weed,--one by a man, two or three by women. Among the more recent writers there has been no more devoted smoker than Mr. Lowell, as his recently published letters testify. Three of the most delightful poems in praise of smoking are his, and with Mr. Aldrich's charming "Latakia" are the gems of the collection. The compiler desires to express his grateful acknowledgments to friends who have permitted him to use their work and have otherwise aided him from time to time; and to the many unknown authors whose poems are here gathered, and whom it was quite impossible to reach; and to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin, & Company, Harper & Brothers, The Bowen-Merrill Company, and the publishers of "Outlook," for their gracious permission to include copyrighted poems. J.K. BOSTON, July, 1894. * * * * * CONTENTS. A. PAGE Acrostic _J.H._ 44 Ad Nicotina _E.N.S._ 118 Another Match _Cope's Tobacco Plant_ 45 Ashes _De Witt Sterry_ 47 B. Bachelor's Invocation, A _Pall Mall Gazette_ 182 Bachelor's Views, A _Tom Hall_ 177 Bachelor's Soliloquy _Cigar and Tobacco World_ 95 Ballad of the Pipe, The _Hermann Rave_ 69 Ballade of Tobacco, The _Brander Matthews_ 54 Betrothed, The _Rudyard Kipling_ 108 Brief Puff of Smoke, A _Selim_ 19 C. Cannon Song _H.P. Peck_ 85 Chibouque _Francis S. Saltus_ 173 Choosing a wife by a Pipe of Tobacco _Gentleman's Magazine_ 48 Cigar, The _Thomas Hood_ 153 Cigarette Rings _J. Ashby-Sterry_ 147 Cigars and Beer _George Arnold_ 166 Clouds _Bauernfeld_ 52 Confession of a Cigar Smoker _Anon._ 158 D. Discovery of Tobacco _Cigar and Tobacco World_ 64 Dreamer's Pipe, The _New Orleans Times Democrat_ 96 Duet, The _Ella Wheeler Wilcox_ 174 E. Edifying Reflections of a Tobacco Smoker _Translated from the German_ 58 Effusion by a Cigar Smoker _Horace Smith_ 167 Encomium on Tobacco, An _Anon._ 36 Epitaph _Anon._ 17 F. Farewell to Tobacco, A _Charles Lamb_ 100 Farmer's Pipe, The _George Cooper_ 7 Forsaken of all comforts _Sir Robert Ayton_ 140 Free Puff, A _Arthur Irving Gray_ 121 Friend of my youth _Anon._ 164 G. Geordie to his Tobacco Pipe _George S. Phillips_ 25 Glass is Good, A _John O'Keefe_ 94 Good Cigar, A _Norris Bull_ 93 H. Happy Smoking Ground, The _Richard Le Gallienne_ 145 Her Brother's Cigarette _Anon._ 79 He Respondeth _Life_ 55 How it Once Was _New York Sun_ 78 I. If I were King _W.E. Henley_ 171 I like Cigars _Ella Wheeler Wilcox_ 121 In Favor of Tobacco _Samuel Rowlands_ 52 Ingin Summer _Eva Wilder McGlasson_ 57 Inscription for a Tobacco Jar _Cope's Tobacco Plant_ 12 In Rotten Row _W.E. Henley_ 174 In the ol' Tobacker Patch _S.Q. Lapius_ 80 In the smoke of my dear cigarito _Camilla K. von K._ 92 Invocation to Tobacco _Henry James Mellen_ 31 In wreaths of Smoke _Frank Newton Holman_ 46 It may be Weeds _Anon._ 23 K. "Keats took Snuff" _The Globe_ 68 Knickerbocker _Austin Dobson_ 63 L. Last Pipe, The _London Spectator_ 12 Latakia _T.B. Aldrich_ 142 Latest Comfort, The _F.W. Littleton Hay_ 157 Loss, A _Judy_ 128 Lost Lotus, The _Anon._ 60 M. Mæcenas Bids his Friend to Dine _Anon._ 81 Meerschaum _Wrongfellow_ 119 Motto for a Tobacco Jar _Anon._ 12 My After-Dinner Cloud _Henry S. Leigh_ 143 My Cigar _Arthur W. Gundry_ 2 My Cigarette _Richard Barnard_ 52 My Cigarette _Charles F. Lummis_ 113 My Cigarette _Tom Hall_ 176 My Friendly Pipe _Detroit Tribune_ 94 My Little Brown Pipe _Amelia E. Barr_ 138 My Meerschaum Pipe _Johnson M. Mundy_ 123 My Meerschaums _Charles F. Lummis_ 131 My Pipe _German Smoking Song_ 7 My Pipe and I _Elton J. Buckley_ 106 My Three Loves _Henry S. Leigh_ 50 O. Ode of Thanks, A _James Russell Lowell_ 33 Ode to My Pipe _Andrew Wynter_ 14 Ode to Tobacco _Daniel Webster_ 95 Ode to Tobacco _C.S. Calverly_ 134 Old Clay Pipe, The _A.B. Van Fleet_ 71 Old Pipe of Mine _John J. Gormley_ 83 Old Sweetheart of Mine, An _James Whitcomb Riley_ 165 On a Broken Pipe _Anon._ 112 On a Tobacco Jar _Bernard Barker_ 38 On Receipt of a Rare Pipe _W.H.B._ 135 P. Patriotic Smoker's Lament _St. James Gazette_ 41 Pernicious Weed _William Cowper_ 73 Pipe and Tobacco _German Folk Song_ 156 Pipe Critic, The _Walter Littlefield_ 115 Pipe of Tobacco, A _John Usher_ 15 Pipe of Tobacco, A _Henry Fielding_ 163 Pipes and Beer _Edgar Fawcett_ 178 Pipe you make Yourself, The _Henry E. Brown_ 172 Poet's Pipe, The _Charles Baudelaire_ 2 Pot and a Pipe of Tobacco, A _Universal Songster_ 169 S. Scent of a good Cigar, The _Kate A. Carrington_ 61 Seasonable Sweets _C._ 23 Sic Transit _W.B. Anderson_ 108 Sir Walter Raleigh! name of worth _Anon._ 158 Smoke and Chess _Samuel W. Duffield_ 10 Smoke is the Food of Lovers _Jacob Cats_ 51 Smoker's Reverie, The _Anon._ 17 Smoker's Calendar, The _Anon._ 159 Smoke Traveller, The _Irving Browne_ #74 Smoking Away _Francis Miles Finch_ 98 Smoking Song _Anon._ 77 Smoking Spiritualized _Ralph Erskine_ 148 Song of the Smoke-Wreaths _L.T.A._ 9 Song without a Name, A _W. Lloyd_ 117 Sublime Tobacco _Lord Byron_ 97 Sweet Smoking Pipe _Anon._ 146 Symphony in Smoke, A _Harper's Bazaar_ 22 T. Those Ashes _R.K. Munkittrick_ 130 Titlepage Dedication _Anon._ 44 To an Old Pipe _De Witt Sterry_ 43 To a Pipe of Tobacco _Gentleman's Magazine_ 91 Tobacco _George Wither_ 86 Tobacco _Thomas Jones_ 151 Tobacco is an Indian Weed _From "Pills to Purge Melancholy"_ 150 Tobacco, some say _Anon._ 164 To C.F. Bradford _James Russell Lowell_ 5 To My Cigar _Charles Sprague_ 62 To My Cigar _Friedrich Marc_ 165 To My Meerschaum _P.D.R._ 82 Too Great a Sacrifice _Anon._ 90 To see her Pipe Awry _C.F._ 55 To the Rev. Mr. Newton _William Cowper_ 126 To the Tobacco Pipe _The Meteor, London_ 39 True Leucothoë, The _Anon._ 129 'Twas off the Blue Canaries _Joseph Warren Fabens_ 140 Two other Hearts _London Tobacco_ 73 V. Valentine, A _Anon._ 113 Virginia's kingly Plant _Anon._ 87 Virginia Tobacco _Stanley Gregson_ 31 W. Warning, A _Arthur Lovell_ 124 What I Like _H.L._ 131 Winter Evening Hymn to My Fire, A _James Russell Lowell_ 105 With Pipe and Book _Richard Le Gallienne_ 1 * * * * * PIPE AND POUCH * * * * * WITH PIPE AND BOOK. With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say? It matters not what book on knee, Old Izaak or the Odyssey, It matters not meerschaum or clay. And though one's eyes will dream astray, And lips forget to sue or sway, It is "enough to merely be," With Pipe and Book. What though our modern skies be gray, As bards aver, I will not pray For "soothing Death" to succor me, But ask this much, O Fate, of thee, A little longer yet to stay With Pipe and Book. RICHARD LE GALLIENNE. A POET'S PIPE. _FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe am I, And my Abyssinian tint Is an unmistakable hint That he lays me not often by. When his soul is with grief o'erworn I smoke like the cottage where They are cooking the evening fare For the laborer's return. I enfold and cradle his soul In the vapors moving and blue That mount from my fiery mouth; And there is power in my bowl To charm his spirit and soothe, And heal his weariness too. RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD. MY CIGAR. In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, And for every little pleasure has some pathologic bogy, Who will bear with no small vices, and grows dismally prophetic If I wander from the weary way of virtue dietetic; In spite of dire forewarnings that my brains will all be scattered, My memory extinguished, and my nervous system shattered, That my hand will take to trembling, and my heart begin to flutter, My digestion turn a rebel to my very bread and butter; As I puff this mild Havana, and its ashes slowly lengthen, I feel my courage gather and my resolution strengthen: I will smoke, and I will praise you, my cigar, and I will light you With tobacco-phobic pamphlets by the learnéd prigs who fight you! Let him who has a mistress to her eyebrow write a sonnet, Let the lover of a lily pen a languid ode upon it; In such sentimental subjects I'm a Philistine and cynic, And prefer the inspiration drawn from sources nicotinic. So I sing of you, dear product of (I trust you are) Havana, And if there's any question as to how my verses scan, a Reason is my shyness in the Muses' aid invoking, As, like other ancient maidens, they perchance object to smoking. I have learnt with you the wisdom of contemplative quiescence, While the world is in a ferment of unmeaning effervescence, That its jar and rush and riot bring no good one-half so sterling As your fleecy clouds of fragrance that are now about me curling. So, let stocks go up or downward, and let politicians wrangle, Let the parsons and philosophers grope in a wordy tangle, Let those who want them scramble for their dignities or dollars, Be millionnaires or magnates, or senators or scholars. I will puff my mild Havana, and I quietly will query, Whether, when the strife is over, and the combatants are weary, Their gains will be more brilliant than its faint expiring flashes, Or more solid than this panful of its dead and sober ashes. ARTHUR W. GUNDRY. TO C.F. BRADFORD. _ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe, and welcome, too, As anything must be from you; A meerschaum pure, 'twould float as light As she the girls called Amphitrite. Mixture divine of foam and clay, From both it stole the best away: Its foam is such as crowns the glow Of beakers brimmed by Veuve Clicquot; Its clay is but congested lymph Jove chose to make some choicer nymph; And here combined,--why, this must be The birth of some enchanted sea, Shaped to immortal form, the type And very Venus of a pipe. When high I heap it with the weed From Lethe wharf, whose potent seed Nicotia, big from Bacchus, bore And cast upon Virginia's shore, I'll think,--So fill the fairer bowl And wise alembic of thy soul, With herbs far-sought that shall distil, Not fumes to slacken thought and will, But bracing essences that nerve To wait, to dare, to strive, to serve. When curls the smoke in eddies soft, And hangs a shifting dream aloft, That gives and takes, though chance-designed, The impress of the dreamer's mind, I'll think,--So let the vapors bred By passion, in the heart or head, Pass off and upward into space, Waving farewells of tenderest grace, Remembered in some happier time, To blend their beauty with my rhyme. While slowly o'er its candid bowl The color deepens (as the soul That burns in mortals leaves its trace Of bale or beauty on the face), I'll think,--So let the essence rare Of years consuming make me fair; So, 'gainst the ills of life profuse, Steep me in some narcotic juice; And if my soul must part with all That whiteness which we greenness call, Smooth back, O Fortune, half thy frown, And make me beautifully brown! Dream-forger, I refill thy cup With reverie's wasteful pittance up, And while the fire burns slow away, Hiding itself in ashes gray, I'll think,--As inward Youth retreats, Compelled to spare his wasting heats, When Life's Ash-Wednesday comes about, And my head's gray with fires burnt out, While stays one spark to light the eye, With the last flash of memory, 'Twill leap to welcome C.F.B., Who sent my favorite pipe to me. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. MY PIPE. When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When friends are fled, thy presence charms me. If thou art full, though purse be bare, I smoke, and cast away all care! _German Smoking Song._ THE FARMER'S PIPE. Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey room; From the fading past evoke Forms that breathe of summer's bloom. Bashful Will and rosy Nell-- Ah, I watch them now at play By the mossy wayside well As I did twelve years to-day. We were younger then, my pipe: You are dingy now and worn; And my fruit is more than ripe, And my fields are brown and shorn. Nell has merry eyes of blue, And is timid, pure, and mild; Will is fair and brave and true, And a neighboring farmer's child. Little maid is busy, too, Making rare, fictitious pies, Just as any wife would do, Looking, meanwhile, wondrous wise. Drawing water from the well, Delving sand upon the hill, Going here and there for Nell,-- That's her helpmate, willing Will. Yonder, in the waning light, Hand in hand the truants come, Nell so fearful lest the night Should fall around her far from home. Fading, fading, skyward flies This joy-picture you have limned; Pipe of mine, the quiet skies Of my life you leave undimmed. Nell and Will are lovers now; There they stray in dying light. That's a kiss! Ah, well, somehow Nell's no more afraid at night! GEORGE COOPER. SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS. _SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mountains, Not like mists that mask the sea, Not like vapors round the fountains,-- Soft and clear and warm are we. Hear the tempest, how its minions Tear the clouds and heap the snows! No storm-rage is in our pinions; Who knows us, 'tis peace he knows. Soaring from the burning censers, Stealing forth through all the air, Hovering as the mild dispensers Over you of blisses rare, Softly float we, softly blend we, Tinted from the deep blue sky, Scented from the myrrh-lands, bend we Downward to you ere we die. Ease we bring, and airy fancies, Sober thoughts with visions gay, Peace profound with daring glances Through the clouds to endless day. Not like clouds that cap the mountains, Not like mists that mask the sea, Not like vapors round the fountains,-- Soft and clear and warm are we. L.T.A., in _London Society_. SMOKE AND CHESS. We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he, from his meerschaum's glossy brown, With a ring of smoke made his king a crown. The cherry stem, with its amber tip, Thoughtfully rested on his lip, As the goblet's rim from which heroes sip. And, looking out through the early green, He called on his patron saint, I ween,-- That misty maiden, Saint Nicotine,-- While ever rested that crown so fair, Poised in the warm and pulseless air, On the carven chessman's ivory hair. Dreamily wandered the game along, Quietly moving at even-song, While the striving kings stood firm and strong, Until that one which of late was crowned Flinched from a knight's determined bound, And in sullen majesty left the ground, Reeling back; and it came to pass That, waiting to mutter no funeral mass, A bishop had dealt him the _coup de grace_. And so, as we sat, we reasoned still Of fate and of fortune, of human will, And what are the purposes men fulfil. For we see at last, when the truth arrives, The moves on the chess-board of our lives,-- That fields may be lost, though the king survives. Not always he whom the world reveres Merits its honor or wins its cheers, Standing the best at the end of the years. Not always he who has lost the fight Rises again with the coming light, Battles anew for his ancient right. SAMUEL W. DUFFIELD. INSCRIPTION FOR A TOBACCO JAR. Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a jar_ the gates of Paradise. _Copes Tobacco Plant._ MOTTO FOR A TOBACCO JAR. Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the goddess through a yard of clay; And soon you'll own she is the fairest maid To stifle pain, and drive old Care away. Nor deem it waste; what though to ash she burns, If for your outlay you get good returns! THE LAST PIPE. When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs each unstrung limb, 'Tis sweet through smoke-puffs, wreathing slow, To watch the firelight flash or glow. As each soft cloud floats up on high, Some worry takes its wings to fly; And Fancy dances with the flame, Who lay so labor-crammed and lame; While the spent Will, the slack Desire, Re-kindle at the dying fire, And burn to meet the morrow's sun With all its day's work to be done. The tedious tangle of the Law, Your work ne'er done without some flaw; Those ghastly streets that drive one mad, With children joyless, elders sad, Young men unmanly, girls going by Bold-voiced, with eyes unmaidenly; Christ dead two thousand years agone, And kingdom come still all unwon; Your own slack self that will not rise Whole-hearted for the great emprise,-- Well, all these dark thoughts of the day As thin smoke's shadow drift away. And all those magic mists unclose, And a girl's face amid them grows,-- The very look she's wont to wear, The wild rose blossoms in her hair, The wondrous depths of her pure eyes, The maiden soul that 'neath them lies, That fears to meet, yet will not fly, Your stranger spirit drawing nigh. What if our times seem sliding down? She lives, creation's flower and crown. What if your way seems dull and long? Each tiny triumph over wrong, Each effort up through sloth and fear, And she and you are brought more near. So rapping out these ashes light,-- "My pipe, you've served me well to-night." _London Spectator_. ODE TO MY PIPE. O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, What joy is in thy smooth, round bowl, As black as coal! So sweetly wed To thy blanched, gradual thread, Like Desdemona to the Moor, Thou pleasure's core. What woman's lip Could ever give, like thy red tip, Such unremitting store of bliss, Or such a kiss? Oh, let me toy, Ixion-like, with cloudy joy; Thy stem with a most gentle slant I eye askant! Unseen, unheard, Thy dreamy nectar is transferred, The while serenity astride Thy neck doth ride. A burly cloud Doth now thy outward beauties shroud: And now a film doth upward creep, Cuddling the cheek. And now a ring, A mimic silver quoit, takes wing; Another and another mount on high, Then spread and die. They say in story That good men have a crown of glory; O beautiful and good, behold The crowns unfold! How did they live? What pleasure could the Old World give That ancient miserable lot When thou wert not? Oh, woe betide! My oldest, dearest friend hath died,-- Died in my hand quite unaware, Oh, Baccy rare! ANDREW WYNTER. A PIPE OF TOBACCO. Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with alcohol moisten his thrapple, Only give me, I pray, a good pipe of soft clay, Nicely tapered and thin in the stapple; And I shall puff, puff, let who will say, "Enough!" No luxury else I'm in lack o', No malice I hoard 'gainst queen, prince, duke, or lord, While I pull at my pipe of tobacco. When I feel the hot strife of the battle of life, And the prospect is aught but enticin', Mayhap some real ill, like a protested bill, Dims the sunshine that tinged the horizon: Only let me puff, puff,--be they ever so rough, All the sorrows of life I lose track o', The mists disappear, and the vista is clear, With a soothing mild pipe of tobacco. And when joy after pain, like the sun after rain, Stills the waters, long turbid and troubled, That life's current may flow with a ruddier glow, And the sense of enjoyment be doubled,-- Oh! let me puff, puff, till I feel _quantum suff._, Such luxury still I'm in lack o'; Be joy ever so sweet, it would be incomplete, Without a good pipe of tobacco. Should my recreant muse--sometimes apt to refuse The guidance of bit and of bridle-- Still blankly demur, spite of whip and spur, Unimpassioned, inconstant, or idle; Only let me puff, puff, till the brain cries, "Enough!" Such excitement is all I'm in lack o', And the poetic vein soon to fancy gives rein, Inspired by a pipe of tobacco. And when, with one accord, round the jovial board, In friendship our bosoms are glowing, While with toast and with song we the evening prolong, And with nectar the goblets are flowing; Still let us puff, puff,--be life smooth, be it rough, Such enjoyment we're ever in lack o'; The more peace and good-will will abound as we fill A jolly good pipe of tobacco. JOHN USHER. EPITAPH _ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OVER HER GRAVE._ Let no cold marble o'er my body rise-- But only earth above, and sunny skies. Thus would I lowly lie in peaceful rest, Nursing the Herb Divine from out my breast. Green let it grow above this clay of mine, Deriving strength from strength that I resign. So in the days to come, when I'm beyond This fickle life, will come my lovers fond, And gazing on the plant, their grief restrain In whispering, "Lo! dear Anna blooms again!" THE SMOKER'S REVERIE. (_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beechen tree, With its leaves by the autumn made ripe; While they cling to the stems like old age unto life, I dream of the days when I'll rest from this strife, And in peace smoke my brierwood pipe. O my brierwood pipe!--of bright fancy the twin, What a medley of forms you create; Every puff of white smoke seems a vision as fair As the poet's bright dream, and like dreams fades in air, While the dreamer dreams on of his fate. The fleecy white clouds that now float in the sky, Form the visions I love most to see; Fairy shapes that I saw in my boyhood's first dreams Seem to beckon me on, while beyond them there gleams A bright future, in waiting for me. O my brierwood pipe! I ne'er loved thee as now, As that fair form and face steal above; See, she beckons me on to where roses are spread, And she points to my fancy the bright land ahead, Where the winds whisper nothing but love. Oh, answer, my pipe, shall my dream be as fair When it changes to dreams of the past? When autumn's chill winds make this leaf look as sere As the leaves on the beech-tree that shelters me here, Will the tree's _heart_ be chilled by the blast? While musing, around me has gathered a heap Of the leaflets, all dying and dead; And I see in my reverie plainly revealed The slope of life's hill, in my boyhood concealed By the forms that fair fancy had bred. While I sit on the banks of the beautiful stream, Picking roses that bloom by its side, I know that the shallop will certainly come, When the roses are withered, to carry me home, And that life will go out with the tide. O my brierwood pipe! may the heart be as light When memory supplanteth the dream; When the sun has gone down may the sunbeam remain, And life's roses, though dead, all their fragrance retain, Till they catch at Eternity's gleam. ANON. A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE. Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the smoke-cloud _infra dig._, In which you could not see his wig, Involved in clouds of smoke. Quaint Lamb his wit would oft enshroud In smoke-igniting laughter loud, Like summer thunder in the cloud,-- The lightning in the smoke. Dean Swift "died at the top;" his head Had drifting clouds when wit had fled: Dull care lurked in his brain, instead Of blowing out in smoke. And Cowper mild--no smoker he, Bard of the sofa and bohea-- Complained his "dear friend Bull" not free From lowering Stygian smoke. Clouds in his non-inebriate nob Were doomed the tea tables to rob, Inflicting many a painful throb On one who could not smoke! Smoke on! it is the steam of life, The smoother of the waves of strife; Where chimneys smoke, or scolds the wife, The counteraction--smoke. We ride and work and weave by steam, Till ages past seem like a dream In a new world whose dawning beam Is redolent of smoke. We travel like a comet wild On which some distant sun had smiled, And from his orbit thus beguiled With a long tail of smoke. The clouds arise from smoking seas, And give, with each conveying breeze, Life to the "weed," and herbs, and trees, Which turn again to smoke. All nations smoke! Havana's pother Smokes friendly with its Broseley brother: The world's one end puffs to the other, In amicable smoke. When plague and pestilence go forth, And to diseases dire give birth, Which walk in darkness through the earth, I clothe myself in smoke. I smoke through desolating years, Tabooed from fever, void of fears, And when some dreaded pest appears, I call in Doctor Smoke. Go, reader! perfume ladies' hair And scent the ringlets of the fair With eau Cologne and odors rare Aloof from healthy smoke. Go babble at the ball and rout, And smirk with high-born dames who doubt: Thy flames are quenched, thy fires are out, And sinking into smoke. "Better," said Johnson, great in name, "It were, when poets droop in fame, To see smoke brighten into flame, Than flames sink into smoke." SELIM: _Eclectic Magazine_. A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE. A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and take her ease, She loves to smoke a cigarette; To dream in silken hammockette, And sing and swing beneath the trees, A pretty, piquant, pouting pet. Her Christian name is Violet; Her eyes are blue as summer skies; She loves to smoke a cigarette. As calm as babe in bassinette, She swingeth in the summer breeze, A pretty, piquant, pouting pet. She ponders o'er a novelette; Her parasol is Japanese; She loves to smoke a cigarette. She loves a fume without a fret; Her frills are white, her frock _cérise_,-- A pretty, pouting, piquant pet. She almost goes to sleep, and yet, Half-lulled by booming honey-bees, She loves to smoke a cigarette. A winsome, clever, cool coquette, Who flouts all Grundian decrees,-- pretty, pouting, piquant pet, That loves to smoke a cigarette. _Harper's Bazaar_. IT MAY BE WEEDS. It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds may be As fragrant as The fairest flower With some sweet memory. ANON. SEASONABLE SWEETS. "_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When the year is young, what sweets are flung By the violets, hiding, dim, And the lilac that sways her censers high, Whilst the skylark chants a hymn! How sweet is the scent of the daffodil bloom, When blithe spring decks each spray, And the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume Through the beautiful month of May! What a dainty pet is the mignonette, Whose sweets wide scattered are! But sweeter to me than all these yet Is the scent of a prime cigar! Delicious airs waft the fields of June, When the beans are all in flower; The woodruff is fragrant in the hedge, And the woodbine in the bower. Sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine For the blithe hours as they run, And balmily sighs the meadow-sweet, That is all in love with the sun, Whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay Flings odorous airs afar; Yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze Is the scent of a prime cigar. When all the beauties of Flora's court Smile on the gay parterre, What glorious color, what exquisite form, And dainty scents are there! They bask in the beam, and bend by the stream, Like beautiful nymphs at play, Holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup To the glorious God of Day. Oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief, And death doth their sweetness mar; But fragrance fine is forever thine, My well-beloved cigar! C. GEORDIE TO HIS TOBACCO-PIPE. Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, Whom I have smoked these fourteen years and more, My best companion, faithful to the end, Faithful to death through all thy fiery core, How shall I sing thy praises, or proclaim The generous virtues which I've found in thee? I know thou carest not a whit for fame, And hast no thought but how to comfort me, And serve my needs, and humor every mood; But love and friendship do my heart constrain To give thee all I can for much of good Which thou hast rendered me in joy and pain. Say, then, old honest meerschaum! shall I weave Thy history together with my own? Of late I never see thee but I grieve For him whose gift thou wert--forever gone! Gone to his grave amidst the vines of France, He, all so good, so beautiful, and wise; And this dear giver doth thyself enhance, And makes thee doubly precious in mine eyes. For he was one of Nature's rarest men,-- Poet and preacher, lover of his kind, True-hearted man of God, whose like again In this world's journey I may never find. I know not if the shadow of his soul, Or the divine effulgence of his heart, Has through thy veins in mystic silence stole; But thou to me dost seem of him a part. His hands have touched thee, and his lips have drawn, As mine, full many an inspiring cloud From thy great burning heart, at night and morn; And thou art here, whilst he lies in his shroud! And here am I, his friend and thine, old pipe! And he has often sat my chair beside, As he was wont to sit in living type, Of many companies the flower and pride,-- Sat by my side, and talked to me the while, Invisible to every eye save mine, And smiled upon me as he used to smile When we three sat o'er our good cups of wine. Ah, happy days, when the old Chapel House, Of the old Forest Chapel, rang with mirth, And the great joy of our divine carouse, As we hobnobbed it by the blazing hearth! We never more, old pipe, shall see those days, Whose memories lie like pictures in my mind; But thou and I will go the self-same ways, E'en though we leave all other friends behind. And for thy sake, and for my own, and his, We will be one, as we have ever been, Thou dear old friend, with thy most honest phiz, And no new faces come our loves between. II. Thou hast thy separate virtues, honest pipe! Apart from all the memory of friends: For thou art mellow, old, and black, and ripe; And the good weed that in its smoke ascends From thy rare bowl doth scent the liberal air With incense richer than the woods of Ind. E'en to the barren palate of despair (Inhaled through cedar tubes from glorious Scinde!) It hath a charm would quicken into life, And make the heart gush out in streams of love, And the earth, dead before, with beauty rife, And full of flowers as heaven of stars above. It is thy virtue and peculiar gift, Thou sooty wizard of the potent weed; No other pipe can thus the soul uplift, Or such rare fancies and high musings breed. I've tried full many of thy kith and kind, Dug from thy native Asiatic clay, Fashioned by cunning hand and curious mind Into all shapes and features, grave and gay,-- Black niggers' heads with their white-livered eyes Glaring in fiery horror through the smoke, And monstrous dragons stained with bloody dyes, And comelier forms; but all save thee I broke. For though, like thee, each pipe was black and old, They were not wiser for their many years, Nor knew thy sorcery though set in gold, Nor had thy tropic taste,--these proud compeers! Like great John Paul, who would have loved thee well, Thou art the "only one" of all thy race; Nor shall another comrade near thee dwell, Old King of pipes! my study's pride and grace! III. Thus have I made "assurance doubly sure," And sealed it twice, that thou shalt reign alone! And as the dainty bee doth search for pure, Sweet honey till his laden thighs do groan With their sweet burden, tasting nothing foul, So thou of best tobacco shalt be filled; And when the starry midnight wakes the owl, And the lorn nightingale her song has trilled, I, with my lamp and books, as is my wont, Will give thee of the choicest of all climes,-- Black Cavendish, full-flavored, full of juice, Pale Turkish, famed through all the Osman times, Dark Latakia, Syrian, Persia's pride, And sweet Virginian, sweeter than them all! Oh, rich bouquet of plants! fit for a bride Who, blushing, waits the happy bridegroom's call! And these shall be thy food, thy dainty food, And we together will their luxury share, Voluptuous tumults stealing through the blood, Voluptuous visions filling all the air! I will not thee profane with impious shag, Nor poison thee with nigger-head and twist, Nor with Kentucky, though the planters brag That it hath virtues all the rest have missed. These are for porters, loafers, and the scum, Who have no sense for the diviner weeds, Who drink their muddy beer and muddier rum, Insatiate, like dogs in all their greeds. But not for thee nor me these things obscene; We have a higher pleasure, purer taste. My draughts have been with thee of hippocrene, And our delights intelligent and chaste. IV. Intelligent and chaste since we have held Commune together on the world's highway; No Falstaff failings have my mind impelled To do misdeeds of sack by night or day; But we have ever erred on virtue's side-- At least we should have done--but woe is me! I fear in this my statement I have lied, For ghosts, like moonlight shadows on the sea, Crowd thick around me from the shadowy past,-- Ghosts of old memories reeling drunk with wine! And boon companions, Lysius-like, and vast In their proportions as the god divine. I do confess my sins, and here implore The aid of "Rare Old Ben" and other ghosts That I may sin again, but rarely more, Responsive only unto royal toasts. For, save these sins, I am a saintly man, And live like other saints on prayer and praise, My long face longer, if life be a span, Than any two lives in these saintly days. So let me smoke and drink and do good deeds, And boast the doing like a Pharisee; Am I not holy if I love the creeds, Even though my drinking sins choke up the sea? GEORGE S. PHILLIPS (JANUARY SEARLE): _The Gypsies of the Dane's Dike._ INVOCATION TO TOBACCO. Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer of dulness, parent of mirth, Come in the sad hour, come in the gay, Appear in the night, or in the day,-- Still thou art welcome as June's blooming rose, Joy of the palate, delight of the nose. Weed of the green field, weed of the wild, Fostered in freedom, America's child, Come in Virginia, come in Havana, Friend of the universe, sweeter than manna,-- Still thou art welcome, rich, fragrant, and ripe, Pride of the tube-case, delight of the pipe. Weed of the savage, weed of each pole, Comforting, soothing, philosophy's soul, Come in the snuff-box, come in cigar, In Strasburgh and King's, come from afar,-- Still thou art welcome, the purest, the best, Joy of earth's millions, forever carest. HENRY JAMES MELLEN. VIRGINIA TOBACCO. Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwelt; Neither, alas! of love so true The bitter pang had felt. But age comes on, they say, apace, To warn us of our death, And wrinkles mar the fairest face,-- At last it stops our breath. One of these dames tormented sore With that curst pang, toothache, Was at a loss for such a bore What remedy to take. "I've heard," thought she, "this ill to cure, A pipe is good, they say. Well then, tobacco I'll endure, And smoke the pain away." The pipe was lit, the tooth soon well, And she retired to rest, When then the other ancient belle Her spinster maid addressed,-- "Let me request a favor, pray"-- "I'll do it if I can"-- "Oh! well, then, love, smoke every day, _You smell so like a man!_" Attributed to JOHN STANLEY GREGSON. AN ODE OF THANKS FOR CERTAIN CIGARS. _TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still makes shifts, To mix a mortal with her gifts, Which he may find who duly sifts. Sweets to the sweet,--behold the clue! Why not, then, new things to the gnu, And trews to Highland clansmen true? 'Twas thus your kindly thought decreed These weeds to one who is indeed, And feels himself, a very weed,-- A weed from which, when bruised and shent, Though some faint perfume may be rent, Yet oftener much without a cent. But imp, O Muse, a stronger wing Mount, leaving self below, and sing What thoughts these Cuban exiles bring! He that knows aught of mythic lore Knows how god Bacchus wandered o'er The earth, and what strange names he bore. The Bishop of Avranches supposes That all these large and varying doses Of fable mean naught else than Moses; But waiving doubts, we surely know He taught mankind to plough and sow, And from the Tigris to the Po Planted the vine; but of his visit To this our hemisphere, why is it We have no statement more explicit? He gave to us a leaf divine More grateful to the serious Nine Than fierce inspirings of the vine. And that _he_ loved it more, this proved,-- He gave his name to what he loved, Distorted now, but not removed. Tobacco, sacred herb, though lowly, Baffles old Time, the tyrant, wholly, And makes him turn his hour-glass slowly; Nay, makes as 'twere of every glass six, Whereby we beat the heathen classics With their weak Chians and their Massics. These gave his glass a quicker twist, And flew the hours like driving mist, While Horace drank and Lesbia kissed. How are we gainers when all's done, If Life's swift clepsydra have run With wine for water? 'Tis all one. But this rare plant delays the stream (At least if things are what they seem) Through long eternities of dream. What notes the antique Muse had known Had she, instead of oat-straws, blown Our wiser pipes of clay or stone! Rash song, forbear! Thou canst not hope, Untutored as thou art, to cope With themes of such an epic scope. Enough if thou give thanks to him Who sent these leaves (forgive the whim) Plucked from the dream-tree's sunniest limb. My gratitude feels no eclipse, For I, whate'er my other slips, Shall have his kindness on my lips. The prayers of Christian, Turk, and Jew Have one sound up there in the blue, And one smell all their incense, too. Perhaps that smoke with incense ranks Which curls from 'mid life's jars and clanks, Graceful with happiness and thanks. I pledge him, therefore, in a puff,-- rather frailish kind of stuff, But still professional enough. Hock-cups breed hiccups; let us feel The god along our senses steel More nobly and without his reel. Each temperately 'baccy _plenus_, May no grim fate of doubtful genus E'er blow the smallest cloud between us. And as his gift I shall devote To fire, and o'er their ashes gloat,-- Let him do likewise with this note. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. [From "The Letters of James Russell Lowell." Copyright, 1893, by Harper & Brothers.] AN ENCOMIUM ON TOBACCO. Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And thus produce so rich a Margarite! It is the fountain whence all pleasure springs, A potion for imperial and mighty kings. He that is master of so rich a store May laugh at Croesus and esteem him poor; And with his smoky sceptre in his fist, Securely flout the toiling alchemist, Who daily labors with a vain expense In distillations of the quintessence, Not knowing that this golden herb alone Is the philosopher's admired stone. It is a favor which the gods doth please, If they do feed on smoke, as Lucian says. Therefore the cause that the bright sun doth rest At the low point of the declining west-- When his oft-wearied horses breathless pant-- Is to refresh himself with this sweet plant, Which wanton Thetis from the west doth bring, To joy her love after his toilsome ring: For 'tis a cordial for an inward smart, As is dictamnum to the wounded hart. It is the sponge that wipes out all our woe; 'Tis like the thorn that doth on Pelion grow, With which whoe'er his frosty limbs anoints, Shall feel no cold in fat or flesh or joints. 'Tis like the river, which whoe'er doth taste Forgets his present griefs and sorrows past. Music, which makes grim thoughts retire, And for a while cease their tormenting fire,-- Music, which forces beasts to stand and gaze, And fills their senseless spirits with amaze,-- Compared to this is like delicious strings, Which sound but harshly while Apollo sings. The train with this infumed, all quarrel ends, And fiercest foemen turn to faithful friends; The man that shall this smoky magic prove, Will need no philtres to obtain his love. Yet the sweet simple, by misordered use, Death or some dangerous sickness may produce. Should we not for our sustentation eat Because a surfeit comes from too much meat? So our fair plant--that doth as needful stand As heaven, or fire, or air, or sea, or land; As moon, or stars that rule the gloomy night, Or sacred friendship, or the sunny light-- Her treasured virtue in herself enrolls, And leaves the evil to vainglorious souls. And yet, who dies with this celestial breath Shall live immortal in a joyful death. All goods, all pleasures it in one can link-- 'Tis physic, clothing, music, meat, and drink. Gods would have revell'd at their feasts of mirth With this pure distillation of the earth; The marrow of the world, star of the West, The pearl whereby this lower orb is blest; The joy of mortals, umpire of all strife, Delight of nature, mithridate of life; The daintiest dish of a delicious feast, By taking which man differs from a beast. ANONYMOUS: _Time, James I._ ON A TOBACCO JAR. Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight and gentlemanne Did bring me here, to charm and chere, To physical and mental manne. God bless his soule who filled ye bowle, And may our blessings find him; That he not miss some share of blisse Who left soe much behind him. BERNARD BARKER. TO THE TOBACCO PIPE. Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth life's rugged way, To give a happiness unknown To those--who let a pipe alone; Thy tube can best the vapors chase, By raising--others in their place; Can give the face staid Wisdom's air, And teach the lips--to ope with care; 'Tis hence thou art the truest friend (Where least is said there's least to mend), And he who ventures many a joke Had better oft be still and smoke. Whatever giddy foplings think, Thou giv'st the highest zest to drink. When fragrant clouds thy fumes exhale, And hover round the nut-brown ale, Who thinks of claret or champagne? E'en burgundy were pour'd in vain. 'Tis not in city smoke alone, Midst fogs and glooms thy charms are known. With thee, at morn, the rustic swain Tracks o'er the snow-besprinkled plain, To seek some neighb'ring copse's side, And rob the woodlands of their pride: With thee, companion of his toil, His active spirits ne'er recoil; Though hard his daily task assign'd, He bears it with an equal mind. The fisher 'board some little bark, When all around is drear and dark, With shortened pipe beguiles the hour, Though bleak the wind and cold the show'r, Nor thinks the morn's approach too slow, Regardless of what tempests blow. Midst hills of sand, midst ditches, dikes, Midst cannons, muskets, halberts, pikes; With thee, as still, Mynheer can stay, As Neddy 'twixt two wisps of hay; Heedless of Britain and of France, Smokes on--and looks to the main chance. And sure the solace thou canst give Must make thy fame unrivalled live, So long as men can temper clay (For as thou art, e'en so are they), The sun mature the Indian weed, And rolling years fresh sorrows breed. From _The Meteors_, London. THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT. Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the truest type, When that too devoted valet Quenched your first-recorded pipe, Were you pondering the opinion, As you watched the airy coil, That the virtue of Virginia Might be bred in British soil? You transplanted the potato, 'Twas a more enduring gift Than the wisdom of a Plato To our poverty and thrift. That respected root has flourished Nobly for a nation's need, But our brightest dreams are nourished Ever on a foreign weed. From the deepest meditation Of the philosophic scribe, From the poet's inspiration, For the cynic's polished gibe, We invoke narcotic nurses In their jargon from afar, I indite these modest verses On a polyglot cigar. Leaf that lulls a Turkish Aga May a scholar's soul renew, Fancy spring from Larranaga, History from honey-dew. When the teacher and the tyro Spirit-manna fondly seek, 'Tis the cigarette from Cairo, Or a compound from the Greek. But no British-born aroma Is fit incense to the Queen, Nature gives her best diploma To the alien nicotine. We are doomed to her ill-favor, For the plant that's native grown Has a patriotic flavor Too exclusively our own. O my country, could your smoker Boast your "shag," or even "twist," Every man were mediocre Save the blest tobacconist! He will point immortal morals, Make all common praises mute, Who shall win our grateful laurels With a national cheroot. _The St. James Gazette_. TO AN OLD PIPE. Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a case; 'Twas a jolly cosy place, I surmise; And a zealous subject blew On your cheeks, until they grew To the fascinating hue Of her eyes. Near a rusty-hilted sword, Now upon my mantel-board, Where my curios are stored, You recline. You were pleasant company when By the scribbling of her pen I was sent the ways of men To repine. Tell me truly (you were there When she ceased that debonair Correspondence and affair) I suppose That she laughed and smiled all day; Or did gentle tear-drops stray Down her charming _retroussée_ Little nose? Where the sunbeams, coyly still, Fall upon the mantel-sill, You perpetually will Silence woo; And I fear that she herself, By the little chubby elf. Will be laid upon the shelf Just as you. DE WITT STERRY. TITLEPAGE DEDICATION. "Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those who always smoked--now smoke the more." ACROSTIC. To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankered care bring radiant smiles, Best gift of Love to mortals given! At once the bud and bliss of Heaven! Crownless are kings uncrowned by thee; Content the serf in thy sweet liberty, O charm of life! O foe to misery! J.H. ANOTHER MATCH. _AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, And I were like the weed, Oh! we would live together And love the jolly weather, And bask in sunshine golden, Rare pals of choicest breed; If love were dhudeen olden, And I were like the weed. If you were oil essential, And I were nicotine, We'd hatch up wicked treason, And spoil each smoker's reason, Till he grew penitential, And turned a bilious green; If you were oil essential, And I were nicotine. If you were snuff, my darling, And I, your love, the box. We'd live and sneeze together, Shut out from all the weather, And anti-snuffers snarling, In neckties orthodox; If you were snuff, my darling, And I, your love, the box. If you were the aroma, And I were simply smoke, We'd skyward fly together, As light as any feather; And flying high as Homer, His gray old ghost we'd choke; If you were the aroma, And I were simply smoke. From _Cope's Tobacco Plant_. IN WREATHS OF SMOKE. In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of olden days uprise, And in his dreamers revery They haunt the smoker's brain, and he Breathes for the past regretful sighs. Mem'ries of maids, with azure eyes, In dewy dells, 'neath June's soft skies, Faces that more he'll only see In wreaths of smoke. Eheu, eheu! how fast Time flies,-- How youth-time passion droops and dies, And all the countless visions flee! How worn would all those faces be, Were they not swathed in soft disguise In wreaths of smoke! FRANK NEWTON HOLMAN. ASHES. Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brier brown, And watch the ashes settle down In lambent flashes; While thro' the blue, thick, curling haze, I strive with feeble eyes to gaze, Upon the half-forgotten days That left but ashes. Again we wander through the lane, Beneath the elms and out again, Across the rippling fields of grain, Where softly flashes A slender brook 'mid banks of fern, At every sigh my pulses burn, At every thought I slowly turn And find but ashes. What made my fingers tremble so, As you wrapped skeins of worsted snow, Around them, now with movements slow And now with dashes? Maybe 'tis smoke that blinds my eyes, Maybe a tear within them lies; But as I puff my pipe there flies A cloud of ashes. Perhaps you did not understand, How lightly flames of love were fanned. Ah, every thought and wish I've planned With something clashes! And yet within my lonely den Over a pipe, away from men, I love to throw aside my pen And stir the ashes. DE WITT STERRY. CHOOSING A WIFE BY A PIPE OF TOBACCO. Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose a wife. Tube, thy _color_ let me find, In her _skin_, and in her _mind_. Let her have a _shape_ as fine; Let her breath be sweet as thine; Let her, when her lips I kiss, _Burn_ like thee, to give me bliss; Let her, in some _smoke_ or other, All my failings kindly smother. Often when my thoughts are _low_, Send them where they ought to go; When to study I incline, Let her aid be such as thine; Such as thine the charming power In the vacant social hour. Let her live to give delight, Ever _warm_ and ever _bright_; Let her deeds, whene'er she dies, Mount as incense to the skies. _Gentleman's Magazine_. MY THREE LOVES. When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty, Three loves were scattered in my way-- And three at once are plenty. Three hearts, if offered with a grace, One thinks not of refusing; The task in this especial case Was only that of choosing. I knew not which to make my pet,-- My pipe, cigar, or cigarette. To cheer my night or glad my day My pipe was ever willing; The meerschaum or the lowly clay Alike repaid the filling. Grown men delight in blowing clouds, As boys in blowing bubbles, Our cares to puff away in crowds And vanish all our troubles. My pipe I nearly made my pet, Above cigar or cigarette. A tiny paper, tightly rolled About some Latakia, Contains within its magic fold A mighty _panacea_. Some thought of sorrow or of strife At ev'ry whiff will vanish; And all the scenery of life Turn picturesquely Spanish. But still I could not quite forget Cigar and pipe for cigarette. To yield an after-dinner puff O'er _demi-tasse_ and brandy, No cigarettes are strong enough, No pipes are ever handy. However fine may be the feed, It only moves my laughter Unless a dry delicious weed Appears a little after. A prime cigar I firmly set Above a pipe or cigarette. But after all I try in vain To fetter my opinion; Since each upon my giddy brain Has boasted a dominion. Comparisons I'll not provoke, Lest _all_ should be offended. Let this discussion end in smoke As many more have ended. And each I'll make a special pet; My pipe, cigar, and cigarette. HENRY S. LEIGH. SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS. When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just the very one you might suppose. Love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name! A dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame! No less than true, and set aside all joke, From oldest time he ever dealt in smoke; Than smoke, no other thing he sold, or made; Smoke all the substance of his stock in trade; His capital all smoke, smoke all his store, 'Twas nothing else; but lovers ask no more-- And thousands enter daily at his door! Hence it was ever, and it e'er will be The trade most suited to his faculty: Fed by the vapors of their heart's desire, No other food his votaries require; For that they seek--the favor of the fair-- Is unsubstantial as the smoke and air. JACOB CATS: _Moral Emblems_. CLOUDS. Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds around disperse; Clouds to gather, thick as night, Is the smoker's universe. _From the German of Bauernfeld_. IN FAVOR OF TOBACCO. Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like swine; But he's a frugal man indeed That with a leaf can dine, And needs no napkin for his hands, His fingers' ends to wipe, But keeps his kitchen in a box, And roast meat in a pipe. SAMUEL ROWLANDS: _Knave of Clubs_ (1611). MY CIGARETTE. _WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet cigarette I am singing This joyous and bright bacca-role; Just now to my lips she was clinging, Her spirit was soothing my soul. With figure so slender and dapper I feel the soft touch of it yet, Adorned in her dainty white wrapper, How fair is my own cigarette! 'Twere better, perhaps, that we part, love; 'Twere better, if never we'd met. Alas, you are part of my heart, love, Destructive but sweet cigarette! Though matchless, by matches she's fired, And glows both with pleasure and pride; By her soft, balmy breath I'm inspired, And kiss and caress my new bride. E'en the clouds of her nature are joyous, Though other clouds cause us regret; From worry and care they decoy us, The clouds of a sweet cigarette. 'Twere better, etc. The houris in paradise living Dissolve in the first love embrace, Their life to their love freely giving,-- And so with my love 'tis the case; For when her life's last spark is flying, Still sweet to the end is my pet, Who helps me, although she is dying, To light up a fresh cigarette! 'Twere better, etc. THE BALLADE OF TOBACCO. When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets out wild oats to sow, He puffs a stiff and stark cigar, And quaffs champagne of Mumm & Co. He likes not smoking yet; but though Tobacco makes him sick indeed, Cigars and wine he can't forego,-- A slave is each man to the weed. In time his tastes more dainty are And delicate. Become a beau, From out the country of the czar He brings his cigarettes, and lo! He sips the vintage of Bordeaux. Thus keener relish shall succeed The baser liking we outgrow,-- A slave is each man to the weed When age and his own lucky star To him perfected wisdom show, The schooner glides across the bar, And beer for him shall freely flow; A pipe with genial warmth shall glow, To which he turns in direst need, To seek in smoke surcease of woe,-- A slave is each man to the weed. ENVOI. Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to drink, take heed! And see in smoke a friendly foe,-- A slave is each man to the weed. BRANDER MATTHEWS. HE RESPONDETH. SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with great regret, The needlessly expensive Cigarette. HE. You should set a good example; But you seem to quite forget That you use a thirty-dollar Vinaigrette. _Life._ TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY. Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street, And she had a smile for all. Many were the friends she'd greet With kindly nod on passing by, Who, smiling, saw her pipe awry. Poor old lass! she loved her pipe, A constant friend it seemed to be; As she sold her apples ripe, With an apple on each knee, How she'd make the smoke-wreaths fly, As I've watched her pipe awry! Seasons came and seasons went, Only changing Betty's store; Youngsters with her always spent Their little all and wished they'd more: Timidly with upturned eye Staring at her pipe awry. Bet was always at her post Early morn or even late; Ginger beer or chestnut roast, Served she as she sat in state, On two bushel-baskets high; You should have seen her pipe awry! Little care old Betty had, She quietly jogged on her way; Never did her face look sad. Although she fumed the livelong day. Guiltless seemed she of a sigh. I never saw her pipe her eye! C.F. INGIN SUMMER. Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in the trees, An' the man thet knows it all, 'Spicions frost in every breeze, When a person tells hisse'f Thet the leaves look mighty thin, Then thar blows a meller breaf! Ingin summer's hyere agin. Kind-uh smoky-lookin' blues Spins acrost the mountain-side, An' the heavy mornin' dews Greens the grass up far an' wide, Natur' raly 'pears as ef She wuz layin' off a day,-- Sort-uh drorin in her breaf 'Fore she freezes up to stay. Nary lick o' work I strike, 'Long about this time of year! I'm a sort-uh slowly like, Right when Ingin summer's here. Wife and boys kin do the work; But a man with natchel wit, Like I got, kin 'ford to shirk, Ef he has a turn for it. Time when grapes set in to ripe, All I ast off any man Is a common co'n-cob pipe With terbacker to my han'; Then jest loose me whar the air Simmers 'crost me, wahm an' free! Promised lands ull find me thar; Wings ull fahly sprout on me! I'm a loungin' 'round on thrones, Bossin' worlds f'om shore to shore, When I stretch my marrer-bones Jest outside the cabin door! An' the sunshine peepin' down On my old head, bald an' gray, 'Pears right like the gilted crown, I expect to w'ar some day. EVA WILDER MCGLASSON. EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER. _SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANSLATED BY EDWARD BRECK._ As oft I fill my faithful pipe, To while away the moments glad, With fragrant leaves, so rich and ripe, My mind perceives an image sad, So that I can but clearly see How very like it is to me. My pipe is made of earth and clay, From which my mortal part is wrought; I, too, must turn to earth some day. It often falls, as quick as thought, And breaks in two,--puts out its flame; My fate, alas! is but the same! My pipe I color not, nor paint; White it remains, and hence 'tis true That, when in Death's cold arms I faint, My lips shall wear the ashen hue; And as it blackens day by day, So black the grave shall turn my clay! And when the pipe is put alight The smoke ascends, then trembles, wanes, And soon dissolves in sunshine bright, And but the whitened ash remains. 'Tis so man's glory crumble must, E'en as his body, into dust! How oft the filler is mislaid; And, rather than to seek in vain, I use my finger in its stead, And fancy as I feel the pain, If coals can burn to such degree, How hot, O Lord, must Hades be! So in tobacco oft I find, Lessons of such instructive type; And hence with calm, contented mind I live, and smoke my faithful pipe In reverence where'er I roam,-- On land, on water, and at home. THE LOST LOTUS. 'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours Passed like the vision of a royal feast, By Nero given in the Baian bowers; Thanks to the lotus-blossom spell, Their lives were one long miracle. In after years the passing sons of men Looked for those lotus blossoms all in vain, Through every hillside, glade, and glen And e'en the isles of many a main; Yet through the centuries some doom, Forbade them see the lotus bloom. The Old World wearied of the long pursuit, And called the sacred leaf a poet's theme, When lo! the New World, rich in flower and fruit, Revealed the lotus, lovelier than the dream That races of the long past days did haunt,-- The green-leaved, amber-tipped tobacco plant. ANON. THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR. What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Something sweeter than jasmine scent, Sweeter than rose and violet blent, More potent in power than orange or musk? The scent of a good cigar. I am all alone in my quiet room, And the windows are open wide and free To let in the south wind's kiss for me, While I rock in the softly gathering gloom, And that subtle fragrance steals. Just as a loving, tender hand Will sometimes steal in yours, It softly comes through the open doors, And memory wakes at its command,-- The scent of that good cigar. And what does it say? Ah! that's for me And my heart alone to know; But that heart thrills with a sudden glow, Tears fill my eyes till I cannot see,-- From the scent of that good cigar. KATE A. CARRINGTON. TO MY CIGAR. Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doctor's spite; Thy clouds all other clouds dispel, And lap me in delight. What though they tell, with phizzes long, My years are sooner past! I would reply with reason strong, They're sweeter while they last. When in the lonely evening hour, Attended but by thee, O'er history's varied page I pore, Man's fate in thine I see. Oft as the snowy column grows, Then breaks and falls away, I trace how mighty realms thus rose, Thus tumbled to decay. Awhile like thee earth's masters burn And smoke and fume around; And then, like thee, to ashes turn, And mingle with the ground. Life's but a leaf adroitly rolled, And Time's the wasting breath That, late or early, we behold Gives all to dusty death. From beggar's frieze to monarch's robe, One common doom is passed; Sweet Nature's works, the swelling globe, Must all burn out at last. And what is he who smokes thee now? A little moving heap, That soon, like thee, to fate must bow, With thee in dust must sleep. But though thy ashes downward go, Thy essence rolls on high; Thus, when my body lieth low, My soul shall cleave the sky. CHARLES SPRAGUE. KNICKERBOCKER. Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knickerbocker! Boughton, had you bid me chant Hymns to Peter Stuyvesant, Had you bid me sing of Wouter, He, the onion head, the doubter! But to rhyme of this one--Mocker! Who shall rhyme to Knickerbocker? Nay, but where my hand must fail, There the more shall yours avail; You shall take your brush and paint All that ring of figures quaint,-- All those Rip Van Winkle jokers, All those solid-looking smokers, Pulling at their pipes of amber, In the dark-beamed Council Chamber. Only art like yours can touch Shapes so dignified--and Dutch; Only art like yours can show How the pine logs gleam and glow, Till the firelight laughs and passes 'Twixt the tankards and the glasses, Touching with responsive graces All those grave Batavian faces, Making bland and beatific All that session soporific. Then I come and write beneath: Boughton, he deserves the wreath; He can give us form and hue-- This the Muse can never do! AUSTIN DOBSON. THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO. _A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bold, Who sailed across the sea; They'd braved the storm, and stood the gale, And got to Virgin-ee. THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO. 'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a bit before,-- And now these here three sailors bold Went cruising on the shore. A lurch to starboard, one to port, Now forrard, boys, go we, With a haul and a "Ho!" and a "That's your sort!" To find out Tobac-kee. Says Jack, "This here's a rummy land." Says Tom, "Well, shiver me! The sun shines out as precious hot As ever I did see." Says Dick, "Messmates, since here we be,"-- And gave his eye a wink,-- "We've come to find out Tobac-kee, Which means a drop to drink." Says Jack, says he, "The Injins think--" Says Tom, "I'll swear as they Don't think at all." Says Dick, "You're right; It ain't their nat'ral way. But I want to find out, my lads, This stuff of which they tell; For if as it ain't meant to drink, Why, it must be meant to smell." Says Tom, says he, "To drink or smell, I don't think this here's meant." Says Jack, says he, "Blame my old eyes, If I'll believe it's scent." "Well, then," says Dick, "if that ain't square, It must be meant for meat; So come along, my jovial mates, To find what's good to eat." They came across a great big plant, A-growing tall and true. Says Jack, says he, "I'm precious dry," And picked a leaf to chew. While Tom takes up a sun-dried bit, A-lying by the trees; He rubs it in his hands to dust And then begins to sneeze. Another leaf picks nimble Dick, And dries it in the sun, And rolls it up all neat and tight. "My lads," says he, in fun, "I mean to cook this precious weed." And then from out his poke With burning-glass he lights the end, And quick blows up the smoke. Says Jack, says he, "Of Paradise I've heerd some people tell." Says Tom, says he, "This here will do; Let's have another smell." Says Dick, his face all pleasant smiles, A-looking through a cloud, "It strikes me here's the cap'en bold, And now we'll all be rowed." Up comes brave Hawkins on the beach; "Shiver my hull!" he cries, "What's these here games, my merry men?" And then, "Why, blame my eyes! Here's one as chaws, and one as snuffs, And t' other of the three Is smoking like a chimbley-pot-- They've found out Tobac-kee!" So if ever you should hear Of Raleigh, and them lies About his sarvant and his pipe And him as "Fire!" cries, You say as 'twas three sailors bold As sailed to Virgin-ee In brave old Hawkins' gallant ship Who found out Tobac-kee. A lurch to starboard, one to port, Now forrard, boys, go we, With a haul and a "Ho!" and a "That's your sort!" To find out Tobac-kee. _Cigar and Tobacco World_, London. "KEATS TOOK SNUFF." "Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the praise-worthy editorial research of Mr. Burton Forman." So "Keats took snuff?" A few more years, When we are dead and famous--eh? Will they record our pipes and beers, And if we smoked cigars or clay? Or will the world cry "Quantum suff" To tattle such as "Keats took snuff"? Perhaps some chronicler would wish To know what whiskey we preferred, And if we ever dined on fish, Or only took the joint and bird. Such facts are quite as worthy stuff, Good chronicler, as "Keats took snuff." You answer: "But, if you were Keats--" Tut! never mind your buts and ifs, Of little men record their meats, Their drinks, their troubles, and their tiffs, Of the great dead there's gold enough To spare us such as "Keats took snuff." Well, go your ways, you little folk, Who polish up the great folk's lives; Record the follies that they spoke, And paint their squabbles with their wives. Somewhere, if ever ghosts be gruff, I trust some Keats will "give you snuff." _The Globe_, London. THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE. Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a stem of reed, What care I for the weather? Though winter freeze and summer broil We rest us from our days of toil My Pipe and I together! Like to a priest of sacred fane, I nightly light the glow again With reverence and pleasure; For through this plain and modest bowl I coax sweet mem'ry to my soul And many trippings measure! There's comfort in each puff of smoke, Defiance to ill-fortune's stroke And happiness forever! There grows a volume full of thought And humor, than the book you bought Holds nothing half so clever! The summer fragrance, all pent up Among the leaves, is here sent up In dreams of summer glory; And these blue clouds that slowly rise Were colored by the summer skies, And tell a summer story. And oh! the happiest, sweetest times Come ringing all their silver chimes Of merry songs and laughter; And all that may be well and worth For Mother Future to bring forth I do imagine after. What care I if my poor means Clad not my walls with splendid scenes And pictures by the masters; Here in the curling smoke-wreath glow Bold hills and lovely vales below, And brooks with nodding asters. All that on earth is fair and fine, This fragrant magic makes it mine, And gives me sole dominion; And if you call me fanciful, I only take a stronger pull, And laugh at your opinion. Let others fret and fume with care, 'Tis easy finding everywhere, But happiness is rarer; And if I find it sweet and ripe, In this tobacco and my pipe, I'll count it all the fairer. Then give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a stem of reed, What care I for the weather? Though winter freeze, or summer broil We rest us from the days of toil, My Pipe and I together. HERMANN RAVE. THE OLD CLAY PIPE. There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, I find, If you're kind of out of humor Or in trouble in your mind. When you're feeling awful lonesome And don't know just what to do, There's a heap of satisfaction If you smoke a pipe or two. The ten thousand pleasant memories That are buried in your soul Are playing hide and seek with you Around that smoking bowl. These are mighty restful moments: You're at peace with all the world, And the panorama changes As the thin blue smoke is curled. Now you cross the bridge of sorrows, Now you enter pleasant lands, And before an open doorway, You will linger to shake hands With a lithe and girlish figure That is coming through the door; Ah! you recognize the features: You have seen that face before. You are at the dear old homestead Where you spent those happy years; You are romping with the children; You are smiling through your tears; You have fought and whipped the bully You are eight and he is ten. Oh! how rapidly we travel,-- You are now a boy again. You approach the open doorway, And before the old armchair You will stop and kiss the grandma, You will smooth the thin white hair; You will read the open Bible, For the lamp is lit, you see. It is now your hour for bed-time And you kneel at mother's knee. Still you linger at the hearthstone; You are loath to leave the place. When an apple cut's in progress: You must wait and dance with Grace. What's the matter with the music? Only this: The pipe is broke, And a thousand pleasant fancies Vanish promptly with the smoke. A.B. VAN FLEET. PERNICIOUS WEED! The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a sentence at a time enough; The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain, Then pause and puff, and speak, and pause again. Such often, like the tube they so admire, Important triflers! have more smoke than fire. Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys, Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours. WILLIAM COWPER. TWO OTHER HEARTS. Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manly face, As he pressed her to his bosom in a fervent, fond embrace. No cost of others' happiness found place within his thought; The weakness of life's brittle thread no dim forebodings brought. But tenderer than the light of love, more brittle than life's thread, The shrouds that wrapped two other hearts gave up their withered dead; For, crumbling in his waistcoat, their glowing future dashed, Two excellent Havanas were very badly smashed. _London Tobacco_. THE SMOKE TRAVELLER. When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish girl,-- Mantilla, fan, coquettish curl, Languid airs and dimpled face, Calculating, fatal grace; Hear a twittering serenade Under lofty balcony played; Queen at bull-fight, naught she cares What her agile lover dares; She can love and quick forget. Let me but my meerschaum light, I behold a bearded man, Built upon capacious plan, Sabre-slashed in war or duel, Gruff of aspect, but not cruel, Metaphysically muddled, With strong beer a little fuddled, Slow in love, and deep in books, More sentimental than he looks, Swears new friendships every night. Let me my chibouk enkindle,-- In a tent I'm quick set down With a Bedouin, lean and brown, Plotting gain of merchandise, Or perchance of robber prize; Clumsy camel load upheaving, Woman deftly carpet-weaving, Meal of dates and bread and salt, While in azure heavenly vault Throbbing stars begin to dwindle. Glowing coal in clay dudheen Carries me to sweet Killarney, Full of hypocritic blarney,-- Huts with babies, pigs, and hens Mixed together, bogs and fens, Shillalahs, praties, usquebaugh, Tenants defying hated law, Fair blue eyes with lashes black, Eyes black and blue from cudgel-thwack,-- So fair, so foul, is Erin green. My nargileh once inflamed, Quick appears a Turk with turban, Girt with guards in palace urban, Or in house by summer sea Slave-girls dancing languidly, Bow-string, sack, and bastinado, Black boats darting in the shadow; Let things happen as they please, Whether well or ill at ease, Fate alone is blessed or blamed. With my ancient calumet I can raise a wigwam's smoke, And the copper tribe invoke,-- Scalps and wampum, bows and knives, Slender maidens, greasy wives, Papoose hanging on a tree, Chieftains squatting silently, Feathers, beads, and hideous paint, Medicine-man and wooden-saint,-- Forest-framed the vision set. My cigar breeds many forms,-- Planter of the rich Havana Mopping brow with sheer bandanna, Russian prince in fur arrayed, Paris fop on dress parade, London swell just after dinner, Wall Street broker--gambling sinner! Delver in Nevada mine, Scotch laird bawling "Auld Lang Syne." Thus Raleigh's weed my fancy warms. Life's review in smoke goes past,-- Fickle fortune, stubborn fate, Right discovered all too late, Beings loved and gone before, Beings loved but friends no more, Self-reproach and futile sighs, Vanity in birth that dies, Longing, heart-break, adoration,-- Nothing sure in expectation Save ash-receiver at the last. IRVING BROWNE. SMOKING SONG. With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist from the waterfall given, Or the locks that float round beauty's throat In the whispering air of even. _Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years, And the dread of change before us; The way is sweet to our willing feet, With the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us. As the light beams through the ringlets blue, Will hope beam through our sorrow, While the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe Shuts out the fear of to-morrow. A magic charm in the evening calm Calls thought from mem'ry's treasure; But clear and bright in the liquid light Are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure. Then who shall chide, with boasting pride, Delights they ne'er have tasted? Oh, let them smile while we beguile The hour with joys they've wasted. _College Song._ HOW IT ONCE WAS. Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, Or rather, sat, Drank beer in plenty, ate abundant food; For they to ancient customs still were true, And smoked, and smoked, because they surely knew What they were at. William the Testy ruled New Amsterdam,-- A tall man he,-- Whose rule was meant by him to be no sham, But rather like the stern paternal style That sways the city now. He made the while A rough decree. He ordered that the pipes should cease to smoke, From that day on. The people took the order as a joke; They did not think, who smoked from childhood up, That one man such delight would seek to stop, Even in fun. But when at last it dawned upon their minds That this was meant, They closed their houses, shut their window blinds, Brought forth tobacco from their ample hoard, And to the governor's house with one accord The burghers went. They carried chairs, and sat without a word Before his porch, And smoked, and smoked, and not a sound was heard, Till Kieft came forth to take the morning air, With speech that would have burned them then and there If words could scorch. But they, however savagely he spoke, Made no reply. Higher and thicker rose the clouds of smoke, And Kieft, perceiving that they would be free Tried not to put in force his harsh decree, But let it die. _New York Sun_. HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE. Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes touched with fond regret, Doubt and desire her mind beset, Fondling her brother's cigarette. Roses with dewy diamonds set, Drooped o'er the window's parapet; With grace she turned a match to get, And lit her brother's cigarette. Her puffs of smoky violet Twined in fantastic silhouette; She blushed, laughed, coughed a little, yet, She smoked her brother's cigarette. Her eyes with briny tears were wet, Her bang grew limp beneath its net, Her brow was gemmed with beaded sweat, And to her bed she went, you bet. ANON. IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH. I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to do, When I think about them days we used to spend A hoein' out tobacker in th' clearin'--me an' you-- An' a wishin' that the day was at an end. For the dewdrops was a sparklin' on the beeches' tender leaves As we started out a workin' in the morn; An' th' noonday sun was sendin' down a shower of burnin' sheaves When we heard the welcome-soundin' dinner-horn. An' th' shadders round us gathered in a sort of ghostly batch, 'Fore we started home from workin' in that ol' tobacker patch. I'm a feelin' mighty lonesome, as I look aroun' to-day, For I see th' change that's taken place since then. All th' hills is brown and faded, for th' woods is cleared away; You an' me has changed from ragged boys to men; You are livin' in th' city that we ust to dream about; I am still a dwellin' here upon the place, But my form is bent an' feeble, which was once so straight and stout, An' there's most a thousand wrinkles on my face. You have made a mint of money; I, perhaps have been your match, But we both enjoyed life better in that ol' tobacker patch. S.Q. LAPIUS. MÆCENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE. I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, and sound wine,-- The Roederer chilly to a charm, As Juno's breath the claret warm, The sherry of an ancient brand. No Persian pomp, you understand,-- A soup, a fish, two meats, and then A salad fit for aldermen (When aldermen, alas the days! Were really worth their _mayonnaise_); A dish of grapes whose clusters won Their bronze in Carolinian sun; Next, cheese--for you the Neufchâtel, A bit of Cheshire likes me well; Café au lait or coffee black, With Kirsch or Kümmel or cognac (The German band in Irving Place By this time purple in the face); Cigars and pipes. These being through, Friends shall drop in, a very few-- Shakespeare and Milton, and no more. When these are guests I bolt the door, With "Not at home" to any one Excepting Alfred Tennyson. ANON. TO MY MEERSCHAUM. There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the quivering light of a star, In the flash of a silvery rill, Yet to me thou art lovelier far, My Meerschaum! There's a love in her witching dark eye, There's a love in her tresses at play, Yet her love would be worth not a sigh, If from thee she could lure me away, My Meerschaum! Let revellers sing of their wine, As they toss it in ecstasy down, But the bowl I call for is thine, With its deepening amber and brown, My Meerschaum! For when trouble would bid me despair, I call for a flagon of beer, And puff a defiance to care, Till sorrows in smoke disappear, My Meerschaum! Though mid pleasures unnumbered I whirl, Though I traverse the billowy sea, Yet the waving and beautiful curl Of thy smoke's ever dearer to me, My Meerschaum! P.D.R. OLD PIPE OF MINE. Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twixt night and morn Thy muse hath roamed through poesy's bowers Upon thy fragrant pinions borne. Let others seek the bliss that reigns In homage paid at beauty's shrine, We envy not such foolish gains, In sweet content, old pipe of mine. Ah! you have been a travelled pipe; But now, of course, you're getting stale, Just like myself, and rather ripe; You've had your fill of cakes and ale, And half-forgotten memories, too. And all the pensive thoughts that twine Around a past that, _entre nous_, Has pleasant been, old pipe of mine. Old pipe of mine, for many a year What boon companions we have been! With here a smile and there a tear, How many changes we have seen! How many hearts have ceased to beat, How many eyes have ceased to shine, How many friends will never meet, Since first we met, old pipe of mine! Though here and there the road was deep, And now and then the rain would fall; We managed every time to keep A sturdy forehead to them all! And even when she left my side, We didn't wait to fret or pine, Oh, no; we said the world was wide, And luck would turn, old pipe of mine! CANNON SONG. And it has turned since you and I Set out to face the world alone; And, in a garret near the sky, Had scarce a crust to call our own, But many a banquet, Barmecide; And many a dream of hope divine, Lie buried in the moaning tide, That drowns the past, old pipe of mine! But prosing isn't quite the thing, And so, I guess, I'll give it up: Just wait a moment while I sing; We'll have another parting cup, And then to bed. The stars are low; Yon sickly moon has ceased to shine; So here she goes, and off we go To Slumberland, old pipe of mine! JOHN J. GORMLEY. CANNON SONG. Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest incense raise; Let's take a smoke, a parting smoke, For good old by-gone days! _Chorus_. For good old by-gone days, We'll smoke for good old by-gone days! We'll take a smoke, a parting smoke, For good old by-gone days! We'll crown the cannon with a cloud, We'll celebrate its praise; Recalling _its_ old parting smoke, For good old by-gone days! We'll smoke to these we leave behind In devious college ways; We'll smoke to songs we've sung before, In good old by-gone days. We'll smoke to _Alma Mater's_ name; She loves the cloud we raise! For well she knows the "biggest guns" Are in the coming days! We'll smoke the times, the good old times, When we were called _fire_! Their light shall blaze in memory, Till the lamp of life expire! Then let each smoking pipe be broke,-- Hurrah for coming days! We'll take a march, a merry march, To meet the coming days! H.P. PECK. TOBACCO. The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut down at night, Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay, Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. The pipe that is so lily-white, Shows thee to be a mortal wight; And even such, gone with a touch, Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. And when the smoke ascends on high, Thinke thou beholdst the vanity Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe, Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. And when the pipe grows foul within, Think on thy soule defil'd with sin, And then the fire it doth require. Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. The ashes that are left behind, May serve to put thee still in mind, That unto dust return thou must. Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. GEORGE WITHER, 1620. VIRGINIA'S KINGLY PLANT. _BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I have the will) to sing How oft in lonely hour, When storms would round me lower, Tobacco's proved a king! Philanthropists, no doubt With good intentions ripe, Their dogmas may put out, And arrogantly shout The evils of the pipe. Kind moralists, with tracts, Opinions fine may show; Produce a thousand facts,-- How ill tobacco acts Man's system to o'erthrow. Learn'd doctors have employed Much patience, time, and skill, To prove tobacco cloyed With acrid alkaloid, With power the nerves to kill. E'en popes have curst the plant; Kings bade its use to cease; But all the pontiff's rant And royal James's cant Ne'er made its use decrease. Teetotalers may stamp And roar at pipes and beer; But place them in a swamp, When nights are dark and damp,-- Their tunes would change, I fear. No advocate am I Of excess in one or t'other, And ne'er essayed to try In wine to drown a sigh, Or a single care to smother. Yet, in moderation pure, A glass is well enough; But a troubled heart to cure, Kind feelings to insure, Give me a cheerful puff. How oft a learn'd divine His sermons will prepare, Not by imbibing wine, But 'neath th' influence fine Of a pipe of "baccy" rare! How many a pleasing scene, How many a happy joke, How many a satire keen, Or problem sharp, has been Evolved or born of smoke! How oft amidst the jar, Of storms on ruin bent, On shipboard, near or far, To the drenched and shiv'ring tar, Tobacco's solace lent! Oh, tell me not 'tis bad, Or that it shortens life! Its charms can soothe the sad, And make the wretched glad, In trouble and in strife. 'Tis used in every clime, By all men, high and low; It is praised in prose and rhyme, And can but end with time; So let the kind herb grow! 'Tis a friend to the distress'd; 'Tis a comforter in need; It is social, soothing, blest; It has fragrance, force, and zest; Then hail the kingly weed! ANON. TOO GREAT A SACRIFICE. The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear, To test Lothario's passion, simply said, "Forego the weed before we go to wed. For smoke, take flame; I'll be that flame's bright fanner. To have your Anna, give up your Havana." But he, when thus she brought him to the scratch, Lit his cigar, and threw away his match. ANON. TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO. Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and honored by the wise, Come filled with honest "Weekly's best," And kindled from the lofty skies. While round me clouds of incense roll, With guiltless joys you charm the sense, And nobler pleasure to the soul In hints of moral truth dispense. Soon as you feel th' enliv'ning ray, To dust you hasten to return, And teach me that my earliest day Began to give me to the urn. But though thy grosser substance sink To dust, thy purer part aspires; This when I see, I joy to think That earth but half of me requires. Like thee, myself am born to die, Made half to rise, and half to fall. Oh, could I, while my moments fly, The bliss you give me give to all! _Gentleman's Magazine_, July, 1745. In the smoke of my dear cigarito Cloud castles rise gorgeous and tall; And Eros, divine muchachito, With smiles hovers over it all. But dreaming, forgetting to cherish The fire at my lips as it dies, The dream and the rapture must perish, And Eros descend from the skies. O wicked and false muchachito, Your rapture I yet may recall; But, like my re-lit cigarito, A bitterness tinges it all. CAMILLA K. VON K. A GOOD CIGAR. Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From the heart of a pipe to get; And a dainty maid Or a budding blade May toy with the cigarette; But a man, when the time Of a glorious prime Dawns forth like a morning star, Wants the dark-brown bloom And the sweet perfume That go with a good cigar. To lazily float In a painted boat On a shimmering morning sea, Or to flirt with a maid In the afternoon shade Seems good enough sport to be; But the evening hour, With its subtle power, Is sweeter and better far, If joined to the joy, Devoid of alloy, That lurks in a good cigar. When a blanket wet Is solidly set O'er hopes prematurely grown; When ambition is tame, And energy lame, And the bloom from the fruit is blown; When to dance and to dine With women and wine Past poverty pleasures are,-- A man's not bereft Of all peace, if there's left The joy of a good cigar. NORRIS BULL. A glass is good, and a lass is good, And a pipe to smoke in cold weather; The world is good, and the people are good, And we're all good fellows together. JOHN O'KEEFE: _Sprigs of Laurel_, Act ii. sc. i. MY FRIENDLY PIPE. Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cigarettes, Whose opiates get in their pates Till waking brings regrets; Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes, Of troubles, and of frets. And let the chap who loves to nap With his cigar in hand Pursue his way, and live his day, As runs time's changing sand; Let him delight by day and night In his peculiar brand. But as for me, I love to be Provided with a pipe,-- A rare old bowl to warm my soul, A meerschaum brown and ripe,-- With good plug cut, no stump or butt, Nor filthy gutter-snipe. My joys increase! It brings me peace As nothing else can do; From all the strife of daily life Here my relief is true. I watch its rings; it purrs and sings-- And then it's cheaper, too! _Detroit Tribune_. ODE TO TOBACCO. Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy suppliant attend In each dull, lonely hour; And though misfortunes lie around, Thicker than hailstones on the ground, I'll rest upon thy power. Then while the coxcomb, pert and proud, The politician, learned and loud, Keep one eternal clack, I'll tread where silent Nature smiles, Where Solitude our woe beguiles, And chew thee, dear Tobac. DANIEL WEBSTER. A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY. I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er knew the Benedict's yoke; I worship a fairy-like, fanciful form, That goes up the chimney in smoke. I sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease, Without wife or bairns to provoke, And puff at my pipe, while my hopes and my fears All go up the chimney in smoke. I sit with my pipe, and my heart's lonesome care I try, but all vainly, to choke. Ah, me! but I find that the flame that Love lights Won't go up the chimney in smoke. _Cigar and Tobacco World_, London. THE DREAMER'S PIPE. Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the dreamer's lip, Fragrant odors from thy bowl Mingling with the dreamer's soul; Curling wreaths of smoke ascending, Comfort sweet with incense blending. Joy and peace and solace sending To the dreamer's heart. Fashioned like a satyr's head, Crowned with fire, glowing red, Quaintly carved and softly sleek As Afric maiden's downy cheek. Comrade of each idle hour In forest shade or leafy bower; Lotus-eaters from thy power Ne'er can break apart. Darkly colored from long use With tobacco's balmy juice From snowy white to ebon turned By the incense daily burned. Laid at night within thy case Of velvet soft--thy resting place-- Whence with leering, stained face Daily thou must start,-- To soothe the dreamer's every care, To glow and burn and fill the air With thy curling perfume rare: As thou charmest gloom away, With the dreamer rest for aye Friend of youth, and manhood ripe All hail to thee, thou meerschaum pipe! _New Orleans Times Democrat._ SUBLIME TOBACCO. But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breathing o'er the aromatic South, Not like a "bed of violets" on the gale, But such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale, Borne from a short, frail pipe, which yet had blown Its gentle odors over either zone, And, puff'd where'er minds rise or waters roll, Had wafted smoke from Portsmouth to the Pole, Opposed its vapor as the lightning flash'd, And reek'd, 'midst mountain billows unabashed, To Æolus a constant sacrifice, Through every change of all the varying skies. And what was he who bore it? I may err, But deem him sailor or philosopher. Sublime tobacco! which from east to west Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest; Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides His hours, and rivals opiums and his brides; Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less loved, in Wapping on the Strand; Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe, When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caress More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties,--give me a cigar! LORD BYRON: _The Island, Canto ii., Stanza 19._ SMOKING AWAY. Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow-white plume of a maiden, The smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies With blissful fragrance laden. _Chorus._ Then smoke away till a golden ray Lights up the dawn of the morrow, For a cheerful cigar, like a shield, will bar, The blows of care and sorrow. The leaf burns bright, like the gems of light That flash in the braids of Beauty; It nerves each heart for the hero's part On the battle-plain of duty. In the thoughtful gloom of his darkened room, Sits the child of song and story, But his heart is light, for his pipe burns bright, And his dreams are all of glory. By the blazing fire sits the gray-haired sire, And infant arras surround him; And he smiles on all in that quaint old hall, While the smoke-curls float around him. In the forest grand of our native land, When the savage conflict ended, The "pipe of peace" brought a sweet release From toil and terror blended. The dark-eyed train of the maids of Spain 'Neath their arbor shades trip lightly, And a gleaming cigar, like a new-born star, In the clasp of their lips burns brightly It warms the soul like the blushing bowl, With its rose-red burden streaming, And drowns it in bliss, like the first warm kiss From the lips with love-buds teeming. FRANCIS MILES FINCH. A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO. May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammering verse If I can a passage see In this word-perplexity, Or a fit expression find, Or a language to my mind (Still the phrase is wide or scant), To take leave of thee, GREAT PLANT! Or in any terms relate Half my love, or half my hate: For I hate, yet love, thee so, That, whichever thing I show, The plain truth will seem to be A constrain'd hyperbole, And the passion to proceed More from a mistress than a weed. Sooty retainer to the vine, Bacchus' black servant, negro fine; Sorcerer, that mak'st us dote upon Thy begrimed complexion, And, for thy pernicious sake, More and greater oaths to break Than reclaimed lovers take 'Gainst women: thou thy siege dost lay Much too in the female way, While thou suck'st the lab'ring breath Faster than kisses or than death. Thou in such a cloud dost bind us, That our worst foes cannot find us, And ill-fortune, that would thwart us, Shoots at rovers, shooting at us; While each man, through thy height'ning steam Does like a smoking Etna seem, And all about us does express (Fancy and wit in richest dress) A Sicilian fruitfulness. Thou through such a mist dost show us, That our best friends do not know us, And, for those allowèd features, Due to reasonable creatures, Liken'st us to fell Chimeras, Monsters that, who see us, fear us; Worse than Cerberus or Geryon, Or, who first loved a cloud, Ixion. Bacchus we know, and we allow His tipsy rites. But what art thou, That but by reflex canst show What his deity can do, As the false Egyptian spell Aped the true Hebrew miracle, Some few vapors thou mayst raise The weak brain may serve to amaze, But to the reins and nobler heart Canst nor life nor heat impart. Brother of Bacchus, later born, The Old World was sure forlorn Wanting thee, that aidest more The god's victories than before All his panthers, and the brawls Of his piping Bacchanals. These, as stale, we disallow, Or judge of _thee_ meant; only thou His true Indian conquest art; And for ivy round his dart The reformed god now weaves A finer thyrsus of thy leaves. Scent to match thy rich perfume Chemic art did ne'er presume, Through her quaint alembic strain, None so sov'reign to the brain. Nature, that did in thee excel, Framed again no second smell. Roses, violets, but toys For the smaller sort of boys, Or for greener damsels meant; Thou art the only manly scent. Stinking'st of the stinking kind, Filth of the mouth and fog of the mind, Africa, that brags her foison, Breeds no such prodigious poison, Henbane, nightshade, both together, Hemlock, aconite-- Nay, rather, Plant divine, of rarest virtue; Blisters on the tongue would hurt you. 'Twas but in a sort I blamed thee; None e'er prosper'd who defamed thee; Irony all, and feign'd abuse, Such as perplex'd lovers use At a need when, in despair To paint forth their fairest fair, Or in part but to express That exceeding comeliness Which their fancies doth so strike, They borrow language of dislike; And, instead of Dearest Miss, Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss, And those forms of old admiring, Call her Cockatrice and Siren, Basilisk, and all that's evil, Witch, Hyena, Mermaid, Devil, Ethiop, Wench, and Blackamore, Monkey, Ape, and twenty more, Friendly Trait'ress, loving Foe,-- Not that she is truly so, But no other way they know A contentment to express, Borders so upon excess That they do not rightly wot Whether it be pain or not. Or as men, constrain'd to part With what's nearest to their heart. While their sorrow's at the height Lose discrimination quite, And their hasty wrath let fall, To appease their frantic gall, On the darling thing whatever Whence they feel it death to sever, Though it be, as they, perforce, Guiltless of the sad divorce. For I must (nor let it grieve thee, Friendliest of plants, that I must) leave thee. For thy sake, TOBACCO, I Would do anything but die, And but seek to extend my days Long enough to sing thy praise. But as she who once hath been A king's consort is a queen Ever after, nor will bate Any tittle of her state, Though a widow or divorced, So I, from thy converse forced, The old name and style retain, A right Katherine of Spain; And a seat, too, 'mongst the joys Of the blest Tobacco Boys, Where, though I by sour physician Am debarr'd the full fruition Of thy favors, I may catch Some collateral sweets, and snatch Sidelong odors, that give life Like glances from a neighbor's wife, And still live in the by-places And the suburbs of thy graces, And in thy borders take delight, An unconquer'd Canaanite. CHARLES LAMB. A WINTER EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE. Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewildering juice, We worship, unforbid of thee; And as her incense floats and curls In airy spires and wayward whirls, Or poises on its tremulous stalk A flower of frailest reverie, So winds and loiters, idly free, The current of unguided talk, Now laughter-rippled, and now caught In smooth dark pools of deeper thought Meanwhile thou mellowest every word, A sweetly unobtrusive third; For thou hast magic beyond wine To unlock natures each to each; The unspoken thought thou canst divine; Thou fill'st the pauses of the speech With whispers that to dreamland reach, And frozen fancy-springs unchain In Arctic outskirts of the brain. Sun of all inmost confidences, To thy rays doth the heart unclose Its formal calyx of pretences, That close against rude day's offences, And open its shy midnight rose! JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. MY PIPE AND I. There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and true as steel. There are: and by their friendships firm Is life made only real. But, after all, of all these hearts That close with mine entwine, None lie so near, nor seem so dear As this old pipe of mine. My silent friend--whose voice is held Fast for my ear alone-- Stays with me always, well content, With Darby to be Joan. No fickleness disturbs our lot; No jars its peace to smother; Ah, no; my faithful pipe and I Have wooed and won--each other. On clouds of curling incense sweet, We go--my pipe and I-- To lands far off, where skies stay blue Through all the years that fly. And nights and days, with rosy dreams Teems bright--an endless throng That passing leave, in echoing wake, Soft murmurings of song. Does this dream fade? Another comes To fill its place and more. In castles silvern roam we now, They're ours! All! All are ours! What'er the wreathing rings enfold Drops shimmering golden showers! No sordid cost our steps can stay, We travel free as air. Our wings are fancies, incense-borne, That feather-light upbear. Begone! ye powers of steam and flood. Thy roads creep far too slow; We need thee not. My pipe and I Swifter than Time must go. Why, what is this? The pipe gone out? Well, well, the fire's out, too! The dreams are gone--we're poor once more; Life's pain begins anew. 'Tis time for sleep, my faithful pipe, But may thy dreamings be, Through slumbering hours hued as bright As those thou gav'st to me! ELTON J. BUCKLEY. SIC TRANSIT. Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of a year buried o'er, In a feminine hand and requesting My presence for tennis at four. Half remorseful for leaving it lying In surroundings unworthy as those, I carefully dusted and smoothed it, And mutely begged pardon of Rose. But I thought with a smile of the proverb Which says you may treat as you will The vase which has once contained roses, Their fragrance will cling to it still. For the writer I scarcely remember, The occasion has vanished afar, And the fragrance that clings to the letter Recalls--an Havana cigar. W.B. ANDERSON. THE BETROTHED. "_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. We quarrelled about Havanas--we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. Open the old cigar-box--let me consider a space; In the soft blue veil of the vapor, musing on Maggie's face. Maggie is pretty to look at,--Maggie's a loving lass, But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass. There's peace in a Laranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay, But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away,-- Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown,-- But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town! Maggie my wife at fifty,--gray and dour and old,-- With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold! And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are, And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar,-- The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket,-- With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket. Open the old cigar-box,--let me consider a while,-- Here is a mild Manilla,--there is a wifely smile. Which is the better portion,--bondage bought with a ring, Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string? Counsellors cunning and silent--comforters true and tried, And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride. Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes, Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close. This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return, With only a _Suttee's_ passion,--to do their duty and burn. This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead, Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main, When they hear my harem is empty, will send me my brides again. I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal, So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall. I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides, And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy, who read of the tale of my brides. For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen. And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelve-month clear. But I have been Priest of Partagas a matter of seven year; And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight. And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove, But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love. Will it see me safe through my journey, or leave me bogged in the mire? Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire? Open the old cigar-box,--let me consider anew,-- Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon _you_? A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke; And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke. Light me another Cuba: I hold to my first-sworn vows, If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for spouse! RUDYARD KIPLING. ON A BROKEN PIPE. Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with living inspirations warm; Type of all other creatures formed of clay-- What more than it for epitaph have they? A VALENTINE. What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No. Alina? No. It does end with "ina," though. Guess again. Christina? No; Guess again. Wilhelmina? No. She reciprocates my flame, Cheers me wheresoe'er I go, Never forward, never coy, She is evermore my joy. Oh, the rapture! oh, the bliss! When I met my darling's kiss. Oh, I love her form to greet! Oh, her breath is passing sweet! Who could help but love her so? Nicotina, mistress mine, Thou shall be my Valentine. ANON. MY CIGARETTE. My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and sorrow, The magic wand that, far beyond To-day, can conjure up to-morrow. Like love's desire, thy crown of fire So softly with the twilight blending; And ah, meseems a poet's dreams Are in thy wreaths of smoke ascending. My cigarette! Can I forget How Kate and I, in sunny weather, Sat in the shade the elm-tree made And rolled the fragrant weed together? I at her side, beatified To hold and guide her fingers willing; She rolling slow the papers snow, Putting my heart in with the filling. My cigarette! I see her yet, The white smoke from her red lips curling, Her dreaming eyes, her soft replies, Her gentle sighs, her laughter purling! Ah, dainty roll, whose parting soul Ebbs out in many a snowy billow, I too would burn, if I could earn Upon her lips so soft a pillow. Ah, cigarette! The gay coquette Has long forgot the flame she lighted; And you and I unthinking by Alike are thrown, alike are slighted. The darkness gathers fast without, A raindrop on my window plashes; My cigarette and heart are out, And naught is left me but the ashes. CHARLES F. LUMMIS. THE PIPE CRITIC. Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me? By my life, I'll ask not gods above To help me choose a wife; But to thy gentle self I'll give the puzzling strife. Thy color let me find, And blue like smoke her eyes; A healthy store her mind As that which in thee lies,-- An evanescent draft, whose incense mounts the skies. And, pipe, a breath like thine; Her hair an amber gold, And wrought in shapes as fine As that which now I hold; A grace in every limb, her form thy slender mould. And when her lips I kiss, Oh, may she burn like thee, And strive to give me bliss! A comforter to be When friends wax cold, time fades, and all departs from me. And may she hide in smoke, As you, my friend, have done, The failings that would choke My virtues every one, Turn grief to laughing jest, or painful thought to fun. Her aid be such as thine To stir my brain a bit. When 'round this hearth of mine Friends sit and banter wit, She'll shape a well-turned phrase, a subtle jest to hit. In short, my sole delight (Why, pipe, you sputter so!), Whose angel visage bright (And at me ashes throw!) Shall never rival fear. You're jealous now, I know. Nay, pipe, I'll not leave thee; For of thy gifts there's one That's passing dear to me Whose equal she'd have none,-- The gift of peace serene; she'd have, alas, a tongue! WALTER LITTLEFIELD. A SONG WITHOUT A NAME. AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's golden days That smoking came in fashion; And from the court it quickly spread Throughout the English nation. The courtiers first the lesson learnt, And burn'd the fragrant treasure; And e'en the queen herself, 'tis said, Would sometimes share the pleasure. But this is true, I will maintain,-- And I am far from joking,-- Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking. Then learned men and lawyers wise And grave divines and doctors Found smoking help'd to clear the brain, And puff'd away in flocks, sirs; Then business men and humble clerks And laborer and peasant By smoking care would drive away, And make this life more pleasant. For this is true. I will maintain,-- And I am far from joking,-- Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking. And from these times we modern men Great glory do inherit, And wealth and learning and the strength Which makes the English spirit. We have no care, we fear no foe, We pass our lifetime gayly, But little think how much we owe To great Sir Walter Raleigh. For this is true, I will maintain,-- And I am far from joking,-- Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking. W. LLOYD. AD NICOTINA. "_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the praise of wine; I'll tolerate no queen But one fair nymph of spotless line, The gentle Nicotine. Her breath's as sweet as any flower's, No matter where it blows, And makes this dull old world of ours The color of the rose. There's not a pang but she can soothe, Nor spell but she can break, And e'en the hardest lot can smooth, And bid us courage take. Fair Nicotine! thou dost atone For many an aching heart; And I for one will gladly own The magic of thine art. Ah, "friendly traitress," "loving foe," Forgive this loving lay; For I, thy worshipper, would show The sweetness of thy sway. "Sublime tobacco!" may thy reign Ne'er for one moment cease; For thou, Great Plant, art kin to brain, And synonym for peace. E.H.S. MEERSCHAUM. Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organs play; And the torture they're inflicting Will vanish quite away. I open my study window And into the twilight peer, And my anxious eyes are watching For the man with my evening beer. In one hand is the shining pewter, All amber the ale doth glow; In t'other are long "churchwardens," As spotless and pure as snow. Ah! what would the world be to us Tobaccoless?--Fearful bore! We should dread the day after to-morrow Worse than the day before. As the elephant's trunk to the creature, Is the pipe to the man, I trow; Useful and meditative As the cud to the peaceful cow. So to the world is smoking; Through that we feel, with bliss That, whatever worlds come after, A jolly old world is this. Come to me, O my meerschaum, And whisper to me here, If you like me better than coffee, Than grog, or the bitter beer. Oh! what are our biggest winnings, If peaceful content we miss? Though fortune may give us an innings She seldom conveys us bliss. You're better than all the fortunes That ever were made or broke; For a penny will always fill And buy me content with a smoke. WRONGFELLOW. I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the waters blue. To laugh and float While rocks the boat Upon the waves,--Don't you? To rest the oar And float to shore,-- While soft the moonbeams shine,-- To laugh and joke, And idly smoke; I think is quite divine. ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. "A FREE PUFF." Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twenty--well! I don't forget How I walked along, Humming a song Across the fields and down the lane By the country road, and back again To the dear old farm--three miles or more-- And brought you home from the village store. Summer was passing--don't you recall The splendid harvest we had that Fall, And how when the Autumn died,--sober and brown,-- We trudged down the turnpike, and on to the town? Sweet black brierwood pipe of mine! If you were human you'd be half divine, For when I've looked beyond the smoke, into your burning bowl In times of need You've been, indeed, The only comfort, sweetest solace, of my overflowing soul. We've been together nearly thirty years, old fellow! And now, you must admit, we're both a trifle mellow. We have had our share of joys and a deal of sorrows, And while we're only waiting for a few more to-morrows, Others will come, and others will go, And Time will gather what Youth will sow; But we together will go down the rough Road to the end, and to the end--puff. ARTHUR IRVING GRAY. MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE. Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred and blackened form, For thou to me wilt ever be-- Whate'er betides the storm-- A casket filled with memories Of life's Auroral morn. Thou once wert fair like ivory rare; Spotless as lily white; Thy curving lines, like tendril'd vines, Were pleasing to the sight, And in thine ample bowl there lurked A promise of delight. Like incense flung from censer swung Before some sculptured shrine, To float along with prayer and song To realms of bliss divine,-- Ascend thy fragrant wreaths of smoke And with my thoughts entwine. Old pipe, old friend, o'er thee doth bend The rainbow hues of life, While sorrows roll across my soul, And peace is turned to strife, And Faith drifts o'er a sea of doubt With desolation rife. Alas, that man or pipe e'er can Wax old or know decay; Alas, that heart from heart must part, Or Love can lose its sway. And death in life should cast its pall Athwart the troubled way. Tho' love be cross'd, and friends are lost, And severed every tie; Tho' hopes are dead and joys have fled, And darkened is the sky; We yet can warm each other's hearts, Old meerschaum pipe and I. JOHNSON M. MUNDY. A WARNING. HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world and men through others' eyes; My own are good enough for me. These scribbling fellows I despise; They bore me. I used to try to read a bit, But, when I did, a sleepy fit Came o'er me. Yet here I sit with pensive look, Filling my pipe with fragrant loads, Gazing in rapture at a book!-- A free translation of the Odes Of Horace. 'Tis owned by sweet Elizabeth, And breathes a subtle, fragrant breath Of orris. I longed for something that was hers To cheer me when I'm feeling low; I saw this book of paltry verse, And asked to take it home--and so She lent it. I love her deep and tenderly, Yet dare not tell my love, lest she Resent it. I'll learn to quote a stanza here, A couplet there. I'm very sure 'Twould aid my suit could I appear _Au fait_ in books and literature. I'll do it! This jingle I can quickly learn; Then, hid in roses, I'll return Her poet! SHE. The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty, cherished book, The odor vile, the noisome taint Of horrid, stale tobacco-smoke Yet lingers! The hateful man, my book to spoil! Patrick, the tongs--lest I should soil My fingers! This lovely rose, these lilies frail, These violets he has sent to me The odor of his pipe exhale! Am I to blame that I should be Enraged? Tell Mr. Simpson every time He calls upon me, Patrick, I'm Engaged! ARTHUR LOVELL. TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON. Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face, That you are in fashion all over the land, And I am so much fallen into disgrace. "Do but see what a pretty contemplative air I give to the company,--pray do but note 'em,-- You would think that the wise men of Greece were all there, Or, at least, would suppose them the wise men of Gotham. "My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses, While you are a nuisance where'er you appear; There is nothing but snivelling and blowing of noses, Such a noise as turns any man's stomach to hear." Then, lifting his lid in a delicate way, And opening his mouth with a smile quite engaging. The Box in reply was heard plainly to say, "What a silly dispute is this we are Waging! "If you have a little of merit to claim, You may thank the sweet-smelling Virginian weed; And I, if I seem to deserve any blame, The before-mentioned drug in apology plead. "Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own, No room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus; We are vehicles, not of tobacco alone, But of anything else they may choose to put in us." WM. COWPER. A LOSS. How hard a thing it is to part From those we love and cherish; How deeply does it pain one's heart To know all things must perish! And when a friend and comrade dear Is lost to us forever, We feel how frail are all things here, Since e'en best friends must sever. I, too, have lost a friend, who broke Its power when care was near me; And troubles disappeared in smoke When he was by to cheer me. But as friends fall when valued most, Like fruit that over-ripe is. My loved companion I have lost,-- That friend my meerschaum pipe is! _Judy_ (1873). THE TRUE LEUCOTHOË. Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, and beauty's smile; I choose a theme not less divine,-- The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle. The old Greeks err'd who bound with bays Apollo's brow; the verdant crown He wore, when measuring their days, Grew in the West, where he went down. An idle tale they also told; They said he gave them frankincense, Borne by some tree he loved of old; If so, he gave a mere pretence. For the true offspring of his love-- Tobacco--grew far o'er the sea, Where Leucothoë from above Led him as honey leads the bee, Till on that plant he paus'd to gaze Some moments ere he held his way, And cheer her with his warmest rays, Heedless of time or length of day. Then with a sigh his brows he wreath'd With leaves that care and toil beguile, And bless'd, as their perfume he breath'd, The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle. ANON. THOSE ASHES. Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette In a sinuous spray is reeling, Forming flower and minaret. What delicious landscape floating On perfumed wings I see; Pale swans I am idly noting, And queens robed in filagree. I see such delicious faces As ne'er man saw before, And my fancy fondly chases Sweet maids on a fairy shore. Now to bits my air-castle crashes, And those pictures I see no more; My grandmother yells: "Them ashes-- Don't drop them on the floor!" R.K. MUNKITTRICK. WHAT I LIKE. To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the grassy bank of some calm stream-- And smoke. To climb with daring feet some rugged rock, And sit aloft where gulls and curlews flock-- And smoke. To wander lonely on the ocean's brink, And of the good old times to muse and think-- And smoke. To hide me in some deep and woody glen, Far from unhealthy haunts of sordid men-- And smoke. To linger in some fairy haunted vale, While all about me falls the moonlight pale-- And smoke. H.L. MY MEERSCHAUMS. Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High carved and plain, dark-hued and creamy, Slim tubes for cigarettes reserved, And stout ones for Havanas dreamy. This cricket, on an amber spear Impaled, recalls that golden weather When love and I, too young to fear Heartburn, smoked cigarettes together. And even now--too old to take The little papered shams for flavor-- I light it oft for her sweet sake Who gave it, with her girlish favor. And here's the mighty student bowl Whose tutoring in and after college Has led me nearer wisdom's goal Than all I learned of text-book knowledge. "It taught me?" Ay, to hold my tongue, To keep a-light, and yet burn slowly, To break ill spells around me flung As with the enchanted whiff of Moly. This nargileh, whose hue betrays Perique from soft Louisiana, In Egypt once beguiled the days Of Tewfik's dreamy-eyed Sultana. Speaking of color,--do you know A maid with eyes as darkly splendid As are the hues that, rich and slow, On this Hungarian bowl have blended? Can artist paint the fiery glints Of this quaint finger here beside it, With amber nail,--the lustrous tints, A thousand Partagas have dyed it? "And this old silver patched affair?" Well, sir, that meerschaum has its reasons For showing marks of time and wear; For in its smoke through fifty seasons My grandsire blew his cares away! And then, when done with life's sojourning, At seventy-five dropped dead one day, That pipe between his set teeth burning! "Killed him?" No doubt! it's apt to kill In fifty year's incessant using-- Some twenty pipes a day. And still, On that ripe, well-filled, lifetime musing, I envy oft so bright a part,-- To live as long as life's a treasure; To die of--not an aching heart, But--half a century of pleasure! Well, well! I'm boring you, no doubt; How these old memories will undo one-- I see you've let your weed go out; That's wrong! Here, light yourself a new one! CHARLES F. LUMMIS. ODE TO TOBACCO. Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Black Care, at the horseman's back Perching, unseatest; Sweet when the morn is gray; Sweet when they've cleared away Lunch; and at close of day Possibly sweetest! I have a liking old For thee, though manifold Stories, I know, are told Not to thy credit: How one (or two at most) Drops make a cat a ghost,-- Useless, except to roast-- Doctors have said it; How they who use fusees All grow by slow degrees Brainless as chimpanzees, Meagre as lizards, Go mad, and beat their wives, Plunge (after shocking lives) Razors and carving-knives Into their gizzards. Confound such knavish tricks! Yet know I five or six Smokers who freely mix Still with their neighbors,-- Jones, who, I'm glad to say, Asked leave of Mrs. J., Daily absorbs a clay After his labors. Cats may have had their goose Cooked by tobacco juice; Still, why deny its use Thoughtfully taken? We're not as tabbies are; Smith, take a fresh cigar! Jones, the tobacco jar! Here's to thee, Bacon! C.S. CALVERLY. ON RECEIPT OF A RARE PIPE. I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the wrappages, stripe after stripe, And when the hidden contents were laid bare, My first remark was: "Mercy, what a pipe!" A pipe of symmetry that matched its size, Mounted with metal bright,--a sight to see; With the rich amber hue that smokers prize, Attesting both its age and pedigree. A pipe to make the royal Friedrich jealous, Or the great Teufelsdröckh with envy gripe! A man should hold some rank above his fellows To justify his smoking such a pipe! What country gave it birth? What blest of cities Saw it first kindle at the glowing coal? What happy artist murmured, "Nunc dimittis," When he had fashioned this transcendent bowl? Has it been hoarded in a monarch's treasures? Was it a gift of peace, or prize of war? Did the great Khalif in his "House of Pleasures" Wager and lose it to the good Zaafar? It may have soothed mild Spenser's melancholy, While musing o'er traditions of the past, Or graced the lips of brave Sir Walter Raleigh, Ere sage King Jamie blew his "_Counterblast_." Did it, safe hidden in some secret cavern, Escape that monarch's pipoclastic ken? Has Shakespeare smoked it at the Mermaid Tavern, Quaffing a cup of sack with rare old Ben? Ay, Shakespeare might have watched his vast creations Loom through its smoke,--the spectre-haunted Thane, The Sisters at their ghostly invocations, The jealous Moor, and melancholy Dane. Round its orbed haze and through its mazy ringlets, Titania may have led her elfin rout, Or Ariel fanned it with his gauzy winglets, Or Puck danced in the bowl to put it out. Vain are all fancies,--questions bring no answer; The smokers vanish, but the pipe remains; He were indeed a subtle necromancer, Could read their records in its cloudy stains. Nor this alone. Its destiny may doom it To outlive e'en its use and history; Some ploughman of the future may exhume it From soil now deep beneath the Eastern sea. And, treasured by soma antiquarian Stultus, It may to gaping visitors be shown Labelled: "The symbol of some ancient cultus Conjecturally Phallic, but unknown." Why do I thus recall the ancient quarrel Twixt Man and Time, that marks all earthly things? Why labor to re-word the hackneyed moral [Greek: Hôs phyllôn geneê], as Homer sings? '[Omega][sigmaf] [phi][upsilon][lambda][lambda][omega][nu] [gamma][epsilon][nu][epsilon][eta], as Homer sings? For this: Some links we forge are never broken; Some feelings claim exemption from decay; And Love, of which this pipe is but the token, Shall last, though pipes and smokers pass away. W.H.B. MY LITTLE BROWN PIPE. I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: It is not any woman's face Set in a golden locket; It is not any kind of purse; It is not book or letter, But yet at times I really think That it is something better. Oh, my pipe, my little brown pipe! How oft, at morning early, When vexed with thoughts of coming toil, And just a little surly, I sit with thee till things get clear, And all my plans grow steady, And I can face the strife of life With all my senses steady. No matter if my temper stands At stormy, fair, or clearing, My pipe has not for any mood A word of angry sneering. I always find it just the same, In care, or joy, or sorrow, And what it is to-day I know It's sure to be to-morrow. It helps me through the stress of life; It balances my losses; It adds a charm to all my joys, And lightens all my crosses. For through the wreathing, misty veil Joy has a softer splendor, And life grows sweetly possible, And love more truly tender. Oh, I have many richer joys! I do not underrate them, And every man knows what I mean, I do not need to state them. But this I say,--I'd rather miss A deal of what's called pleasure, Than lose my little comforter, My little smoky treasure. AMELIA E. BARR. Forsaken of all comforts but these two,-- My fagot and my pipe--I sit to muse On all my crosses, and almost excuse The heavens for dealing with me as they do. When Hope steps in, and, with a smiling brow, Such cheerful expectations doth infuse As makes me think ere long I cannot choose But be some grandee, whatsoe'er I'm now. But having spent my pipe, I then perceive That hopes and dreams are cousins,--both deceive. Then mark I this conclusion in my mind, It's all one thing,--both tend into one scope,-- To live upon Tobacco and on Hope: The one's but smoke, the other is but wind. SIR ROBERT AYTON. 'TWAS OFF THE BLUE CANARIES. 'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer day, I sat upon the quarter deck, And whiffed my cares away; And as the volumed smoke arose, Like incense in the air, I breathed a sigh to think, in sooth, It was my last cigar. I leaned upon the quarter rail, And looked down in the sea; E'en there the purple wreath of smoke, Was curling gracefully; Oh! what had I at such a time To do with wasting care? Alas! the trembling tear proclaimed It was my last cigar. I watched the ashes as it came Fast drawing toward the end; I watched it as a friend would watch Beside a dying friend; But still the flame swept slowly on; It vanished into air; I threw it from me,--spare the tale,-- It was my last cigar. I've seen the land of all I love Fade in the distance dim; I've watched above the blighted heart, Where once proud hope hath been; But I've never known a sorrow That could with that compare, When off the blue Canaries I smoked my last cigar. JOSEPH WARREN FABENS. LATAKIA. I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wizard-work of silver lace, I draw my sofa on the rug, Before the ancient chimney-place. Upon the painted tiles are mosques And minarets, and here and there A blind muezzin lifts his hands, And calls the faithful unto prayer. Folded in idle, twilight dreams, I hear the hemlock chirp and sing, As if within its ruddy core It held the happy heart of Spring. Ferdousi never sang like that, Nor Saadi grave, nor Hafiz gay; I lounge, and blow white rings of smoke, And watch them rise and float away. II. The curling wreaths like turbans seem Of silent slaves that come and go,-- Or Viziers, packed with craft and crime, Whom I behead from time to time, With pipe-stem, at a single blow. And now and then a lingering cloud Takes gracious form at my desire, And at my side my lady stands, Unwinds her veil with snowy hands,-- A shadowy shape, a breath of fire! O Love, if you were only here Beside me in this mellow light, Though all the bitter winds should blow, And all the ways be choked with snow, 'Twould be a true Arabian night! T.B. ALDRICH. MY AFTER-DINNER CLOUD. Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude at home, Perchance an ultra-bilious fit Paints all the world an orange chrome. When Fear and Care and grim Despair Flock round me in a ghostly crowd, One charm dispels them all in air,-- I blow my after-dinner cloud. 'Tis melancholy to devour The gentle chop in loneliness. I look on six--my prandial hour-- With dread not easy to express. And yet for every penance done, Due compensation seems allow'd. My penance o'er, its price is won,-- I blow my after-dinner cloud. My clay is _not_ a Henry Clay,-- I like it better on the whole; And when I fill it, I can say, I drown my sorrows in the bowl. For most I love my lowly pipe When weary, sad, and leaden-brow'd; At such a time behold me ripe To blow my after-dinner cloud. As gracefully the smoke ascends In columns from the weed beneath, My friendly wizard, Fancy, lends A vivid shape to every wreath. Strange memories of life or death Up from the cradle to the shroud, Come forth as, with enchanter's breath, I blow my after-dinner cloud. What wonder if it stills my care To quit the present for the past, And summon back the things that were, Which only thus in vapor last? What wonder if I envy not The rich, the giddy, and the proud, Contented in this quiet spot To blow my after-dinner cloud? HENRY S. LEIGH. THE HAPPY SMOKING-GROUND. When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and pipe put by, And Smoked and Smoker both alike In dust and ashes lie, What of the Smoker? Whither passed? Ah, will he smoke no more? And will there be no golden cloud Upon the golden shore? Ah! who shall say we cry in vain To Fate upon his hill, For, howsoe'er we ask and ask, He goes on smoking still. But, surely, 'twere a bitter thing If other men pursue Their various earthly joys again Beyond that distant blue, If the poor Smoker might not ply His peaceful passion too. If Indian braves may still up there On merry scalpings go, And buried Britons rise again With arrow and with bow, May not the Smoker hope to take His "cutty" from below? So let us trust; and when at length You lay me 'neath the yew, Forget not, O my friends, I pray, Pipes and tobacco too! RICHARD LE GALLIENNE. SWEET SMOKING PIPE. Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion still of my retreat, Thou dost my gloomy thoughts remove, And purge my brain with gentle heat. Tobacco, charmer of my mind, When, like the meteor's transient gleam. Thy substance gone to air I find, I think, alas, my life's the same! What else but lighted dust am I? Then shew'st me what my fate will be; And when thy sinking ashes die, I learn that I must end like thee. ANON. CIGARETTE RINGS. How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; I'm too sleepy to read and too lazy to write; So I'll watch the blue rings, as they eddy and twirl, And in gossamer wreathings coquettishly curl. In the stillness of night and the sparseness of chimes There's a fleetness in fancy, a frolic in rhymes; There's a world of romance that persistently clings To the azurine curving of Cigarette Rings! What a picture comes back from the passed-away times! They are lounging once more 'neath the sweet-scented limes; See how closely he watches the Queen of Coquettes, As her white hands roll deftly those small cigarettes! He believes in her smiles and puts faith in her sighs While he's dazzled by light from her fathomless eyes. Ah, the dearest of voices delightfully sings Through the wind intertwining of Cigarette Rings! How sweet was her song in the bright summer-time, When winds whispered low 'neath the tremulous lime! How sweet, too, that bunch of forget-me-nots blue-- The love he thought lasting, the words he thought true! _Ah, the words of a woman concerning such things_ _Are weak and unstable as Cigarette Rings!_ J. ASHBY-STERRY. SMOKING SPIRITUALIZED. The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently sufficient grounds, to the Rev. Ralph Erskine, or, as he designated himself, "Ralph Erskine, V.D.M." The peasantry throughout the North of England always called it "Erskine Song;" and not only is his name given as the author in numerous chap-books, but in his own volume of "Gospel Sonnets," from an early copy of which this version is transcribed. The discovery, however, by Mr. Collier of the First Part in a MSS. temp. James I., with the initials "G.W." affixed to it, has disposed of Erskine's claim to the honor of the entire authorship. G.W. is supposed to be George Wither; but this is purely conjectural, and it is not at all improbable that G.W. really stands for W.G., as it was a common practice among anonymous writers to reverse their initials. The history, then, of the poem seems to be this: that the First Part, as it is now printed, originally constituted the whole production, being complete in itself; that the Second Part was afterwards added by the Rev. Ralph Erskine, and that both parts came subsequently to be ascribed to him, as his was the only name published in connection with the song. See "Ballads of the Peasantry," Bell's edition. Variants of this song will be found on pages 86 and 150 of the present collection; the first is ascribed to George Wither, and the other is taken from the first volume of "Pills to purge Melancholy." PART I. This Indian weed, now withered quite. Tho' green at noon, cut down at night, Shows thy decay, All flesh is hay: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. The pipe, so lily-like and weak, Does thus thy mortal state bespeak; Thou art e'en such-- Gone with a touch: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. And when the smoke ascends on high, Then thou behold'st the vanity Of worldly stuff-- Gone with a puff: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. And when the pipe grows foul within, Think on thy soul defiled with sin; For then the fire It doth require: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. And seest the ashes cast away, Then to thyself thou mayest say, That to the dust Return thou must: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. PART II. Was this small plant for thee cut down? So was the Plant of Great Renown, Which Mercy sends For nobler ends: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. Does juice medicinal proceed From such a naughty foreign weed? Then what's the power Of Jesse's Flower? Thus think, and smoke tobacco. The promise, like the pipe, inlays, And by the mouth of faith conveys What virtue flows From Sharon's Rose: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. In vain the unlighted pipe you blow; Your pains in outward means are so, 'Till heavenly fire Your heart inspire: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. The smoke, like burning incense, towers: So should a praying heart of yours, With ardent cries, Surmount the skies: Thus think, and smoke tobacco. TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED. Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut down at eve; It shows decay; we are but clay; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. The pipe that is so lily white, Wherein so many take delight, Is broke with a touch,--man's life is such; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. The pipe that is so foul within Shows how man's soul is stained with sin, And then the fire it doth require; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. The ashes that are left behind Do serve to put us all in mind That unto dust return we must; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. The smoke that does so high ascend Shews us man's life must have an end; The vapor's gone,--man's life is done; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. From "_Pills to Purge Melancholy_." TOBACCO. Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love, or Glory, still My theme shall be Tobacco! Hail, weed, eclipsing every flow'r, Of thee I fain would make my bow'r, When fortune frowns, or tempests low'r, Mild comforter of woe! They say in truth an angel's foot First brought to life thy precious root, The source of every pleasure! Descending from the skies he press'd With hallowed touch Earth's yielding breast; Forth sprang the plant, and then was bless'd, As man's chief treasure! Throughout the world who knows thee not? Of palace and of lowly cot The universal guest,-- The friend of Gentile, Turk, and Jew, To all a stay, to none untrue, The balm that can our ills subdue, And soothe us into rest! With thee the poor man can abide Oppression, want, the scorn of pride, The curse of penury. Companion of his lonely state, He is no longer desolate, And still can brave an adverse fate With honest worth and thee! All honor to the patriot bold Who brought, instead of promised gold, Thy leaf to Britain's shore. It cost him life; but thou shalt raise A cloud of fragrance to his praise, And bards shall hail in deathless lays The valiant knight of yore. Ay, Raleigh! thou wilt live till Time Shall ring his last oblivious chime, The fruitful theme of story; And man in ages hence shall tell How greatness, virtue, wisdom, fell, When England sounded out thy knell, And dimmed her ancient glory. And thou, O plant! shalt keep his name Unwithered in the scroll of fame, And teach us to remember; He gave with thee content and peace, Bestow'd on life a longer lease, And bidding every trouble cease, Made summer of December. THOMAS JONES. THE CIGAR. Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar. Some fret themselves to death With Whig and Tory jar; I don't care which is in, So I have my cigar. Sir John requests my vote, And so does Mr. Marr; I don't care how it goes, So I have my cigar. Some want a German row, Some wish a Russian war; I care not. I'm at peace So I have my cigar. I never see the "Post," I seldom read the "Star;" The "Globe" I scarcely heed, So I have my cigar. Honors have come to men My juniors at the Bar; No matter--I can wait, So I have my cigar. Ambition frets me not; A cab or glory's car Are just the same to me, So I have my cigar. I worship no vain gods, But serve the household Lar; I'm sure to be at home, So I have my cigar. I do not seek for fame, A general with a scar; A private let me be, So I have my cigar. To have my choice among The toys of life's bazaar, The deuce may take them all So I have my cigar. Some minds are often tost By tempests like a tar; I always seem in port, So I have my cigar. The ardent flame of love, My bosom cannot char, I smoke but do not burn, So I have my cigar. They tell me Nancy Low Has married Mr. R.; The jilt! but I can live, So I have my cigar. THOMAS HOOD. PIPE AND TOBACCO. When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need not envy here; And as the smoke fades in the wind, Our fleeting life it brings to mind. Noble weed! that comforts life, And art with calmest pleasures rife; Heaven grant thee sunshine and warm rain, And to thy planter health and gain. Through thee, friend of my solitude, With hope and patience I'm endued, Deep sinks thy power within my heart, And cares and sorrows all depart. Then let non-smokers rail forever; Shall their hard words true friends dissever? Pleasure's too rare to cast away My pipe, for what the railers say! When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me, When friends are fled, thy presence charms me; If thou art full, though purse be bare, I smoke, and cast away all care! _German Folk Song._ THE LATEST CONVERT. I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Nellie, Katie, Mary-- To name them all would stretch my rhymes From here as far as Demerary. But each has wed some other man,-- Girls always do, I find, in real life,-- And I am left alone to scan The horizon of my own ideal life. I still survive. I was, I think, Not born to run in double harness; I did not shirk my food and drink When Nellie married Harry Carnice. But I am wedded to my pipe! That faithful friend, nought can provoke it; Should it grow cold, I gently wipe Its mouth, then fill it, light, and smoke it. But it is sweet to kiss; and I Should love to kiss a wife and pet her-- She scolds? Straight to my pipe I fly; Her scowls through fragrant smoke look better. There's merry Maud--with her I'd dare To brave the matrimonial ocean; _She_ would not pout or fret, but wear A constant smile of sweet devotion. How know I that she will not change, My wishes at defiance set? Oh! (Pray this in smallest type arrange) She smokes--at times--a cigareto. F.W. LITTLETON HAY. CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER. I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole of my success; With my cigar I'm sage and wise,-- Without, I'm dull as cloudy skies. When smoking, all my ideas soar, When not, they sink upon the floor. The greatest men have all been smokers, And so were all the greatest jokers. Then ye who'd bid adieu to care, Come here and smoke it into air. ANON. Sir Walter Raleigh! name of worth, How sweet for thee to know King James, who never smoked on earth, Is smoking down below. THE SMOKER'S CALENDAR. When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit cheers; And still it glads the length'ning day 'Neath February's milder sway. When March's keener winds succeed, What charms me like the burning weed When April mounts the solar car, I join him, puffing a cigar; And May, so beautiful and bright, Still finds the pleasing weed a-light. To balmy zephyrs it gives zest When June in gayest livery's drest. Through July, Flora's offspring smile, But still Nicotia's can beguile; And August, when its fruits are ripe, Matures my pleasure in a pipe. September finds me in the garden, Communing with a long churchwarden. Even in the wane of dull October I smoke my pipe and sip my "robar." November's soaking show'rs require The smoking pipe and blazing fire. The darkest day in drear December's-- That's lighted by their glowing embers. ANON. AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE. As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known, So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till in shadowy design I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine. The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise, As I turn it low, to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes, And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke Its fate with my tobacco, and to vanish with the smoke. 'Tis a fragrant retrospection, for the loving thoughts that start Into being are like perfumes from the blossom of the heart; And to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine-- When my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine. Though I hear, beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings, The voices of my children and the mother as she sings, I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme When Care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream. In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm; For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine. A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace, Floats out of my tobacco as the genii from the vase; And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes, As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies. I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress She wore when first I kissed her, and she answered the caress With the written declaration that, "as surely as the vine Grew round the stump," she loved me,--that old sweetheart of mine! And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand, As we used to talk together of the future we had planned: When I should be a poet, and with nothing else to do But write the tender verses that she set the music to; When we should live together in a cozy little cot, Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot, Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine, And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine; And I should be her lover forever and a day, And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray; And we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb They would not smile in heaven till the other's kiss had come. But ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair, And the door is softly opened, and my wife is standing there! Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions I resign To greet the living presence of that old sweetheart of mine. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. A PIPE OF TOBACCO. Let the learned talk of books, The glutton of cooks, The lover of Celia's soft smack--O! No mortal can boast So noble a toast As a pipe of accepted tobacco. Let the soldier for fame, And a general's name, In battle get many a thwack--O! Let who will have most, Who will rule the rooste, Give me but a pipe of tobacco. Tobacco gives wit To the dullest old cit, And makes him of politics crack--O! The lawyers i' the hall Were not able to bawl, Were it not for a whiff of tobacco. The man whose chief glory Is telling a story, Had never arrived at the smack--O! Between ever heying, And as I was saying, Did he not take a whiff of tobacco. The doctor who places Much skill in grimaces, And feels your pulse running tic-tack--O! Would you know his chief skill? It is only to fill And smoke a good pipe of tobacco. The courtiers alone To this weed are not prone; Would you know what 'tis makes them so slack--O? 'Twas because it inclined To be honest the mind, And therefore they banished tobacco. HENRY FIELDING. Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. What needs my Muse to sing thy various praise? In country or in town, on land or sea, The weed is still delightful company. In joy or sorrow, grief or racking pain, We fly to thee for solace once again. Delicious plant, by all the world consumed, 'Tis pity thou, like man, to ashes too art doom'd. ANON. Tobacco, some say, is a potent narcotic, That rules half the world in a way quite despotic; So, to punish him well for his wicked and merry tricks, We'll burn him forthwith, as they used to do heretics. TO MY CIGAR. The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes happy thoughts flow, And drives sorrow afar. The stronger the wind blows, The brighter thou burnest! The dreariest of life's woes, Less gloomy thou turnest! As I feel on my lip Thy unselfish kiss, Like thy flame-colored tip, All is rosy-hued bliss. No longer does sorrow Lay weight on my heart; And all fears of the morrow, In joy-dreams depart. Sweet cheerer of sadness! Life's own happy star! I greet thee with gladness, My friendly cigar! FRIEDRICH MARC. CIGARS AND BEER. Here With my beer I sit, While golden moments flit. Alas! They pass Unheeded by; And, as they fly, I, Being dry, Sit idly sipping here My beer. Oh, finer far Than fame or riches are The graceful smoke-wreaths of this cigar! Why Should I Weep, wail, or sigh? What if luck has passed me by? What if my hopes are dead, My pleasures fled? Have I not still My fill Of right good cheer,-- Cigars and beer? Go, whining youth, Forsooth! Go, weep and wail, Sigh and grow pale, Weave melancholy rhymes On the old times, Whose joys like shadowy ghosts appear,-- But leave me to my beer! Gold is dross, Love is loss; So, if I gulp my sorrows down, Or see them drown In foamy draughts of old nut-brown, Then do I wear the crown Without a cross! GEORGE ARNOLD. EFFUSION BY A CIGAR SMOKER. Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, Your fame to raise, Upon its blaze, Alas! ye do but light your funeral pyre! Tempting Fate's stroke; Ye fall, and all your glory ends in smoke. Safe in my chair from wounds and woe, _My_ fire and smoke from mine own mouth I blow. Ye booksellers! who deal, like me, in puffs, The public smokes, You and your hoax, And turns your empty vapor to rebuffs. Ye through the nose Pay for each puff; when mine the same way flows, It does not run me into debt; And thus, the more I fume, the less I fret. Authors! created to be puff'd to death, And fill the mouth Of some uncouth Bookselling wight, who sucks your brains and breath, Your leaves thus far (Without its fire) resemble my cigar; But vapid, uninspired, and flat: When, when, O Bards, will ye _compose_ like _that_? Since life and the anxieties that share Our hopes and trust, Are smoke and dust, Give me the smoke and dust that banish care. The roll'd leaf bring, Which from its ashes, Phoenix-like, can spring; The fragrant leaf whose magic balm Can, like Nepenthe, all our sufferings charm. Oh, what supreme beatitude is this! What soft and sweet Sensations greet My soul, and wrap it in Elysian bliss! I soar above Dull earth in these ambrosial clouds, like Jove, And from my empyrean height Look down upon the world with calm delight. HORACE SMITH. A POT, AND A PIPE OF TOBACCO. Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant enough To those who have got the right knack, O! But give me, my boys, Those exquisite joys, A pot, and a pipe of tobacco. When fume follows fume To the top of the room, In circles pursuing their track, O! How sweet to inhale The health-giving gale Of a pipe of Virginia tobacco. Let soldiers so bold For fame or for gold Their enemies cut, slash, and hack, O! We have fire and smoke, Though all but in joke, In a peaceable pipe of tobacco. Should a mistress, unkind, Be inconstant in mind, And on your affections look black, O! Let her wherrit and tiff, 'Twill blow off in a whiff, If you take but a pipe of tobacco. The miserly elf, Who, in hoarding his pelf, Keeps body and soul on the rack, O! Would he bless and be blest, He might open his chest By taking a pipe of tobacco. Politicians so wise, All ears and all eyes For news, till their addled pates crack, O! After puzzling their brains, Will not get for their pains The worth of a pipe of tobacco If your land in the claw Of a limb of the law You trust, or your health to a quack, O! 'Tis fifty to one They're both as soon gone As you'd puff out a pipe of tobacco. Life's short, 'tis agreed; So we'll try from the weed, Of man a brief emblem to tack, O! When his spirit ascends, Die he must,--and he ends In dust, like a pipe of tobacco. _From "The Universal Songster, or Museum of Mirth."_ IF I WERE KING. If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies of time and chance are seldom clear, We would inform them all, with bland blue weather. Delight alone would need to shed a tear, For dream and deed should war no more together. Art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear; Beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather; And love, sweet love, should never fall to sere, If I were king. But politics should find no harbour near; The Philistine should fear to slip his tether; Tobacco should be duty free, and beer; In fact, in room of this, the age of leather, An age of gold all radiant should appear, If I were king. W.E. HENLEY. THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF. There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well, There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell; But any pipe that kin be bought fer marbles, chalk, or pelf, Ain't ekal to the flaver of th' pipe you make yourself. Jest take a common corn cob an' whittle out the middle, Then plug up one end of it as tight as any fiddle; Fit a stem into th' side an' lay her on th' shelf, An' when she's dry you take her down, that pipe you made yourself. Cram her full clar to th' brim with nachral leaf, you bet-- 'T will smoke a trifle better for bein' somewhat wet-- Take your worms and fishin' pole, and a jug along for health, An' you'll get a taste o' heaven from that pipe you made yourself. There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well, There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell; But any pipe that kin be bought for marbles, chalk, or pelf, Ain't ekal to th' flayer of the pipe you make yourself. HENRY E. BROWN. CHIBOUQUE. At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his palace lolls at ease; Latakieh fumes his sensual palate please, While round-limbed almées dance near his divan. Slaves lure away _ennui_ with flowers and fan; And as his gem-tipped chibouque glows, he sees, In dreamy trance, those marvellous mysteries The prophet sings of in the Al-Korán! Pale, dusk-eyed girls, with sequin-studded hair, Dart through the opal clouds like agile deer, With sensuous curves his fancy to provoke,-- Delicious houris, ravishing and fair, Who to his vague and drowsy mind appear Like fragrant phantoms arabesqued in smoke! FRANCIS S. SALTUS. IN ROTTEN ROW. In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no regret For all the tumult that had been. The distances were still and green, And streaked with shadows cool and wet. Two sweethearts on a bench were set, Two birds among the boughs were met; So love and song were heard and seen In Rotten Row. A horse or two there was to fret The soundless sand; but work and debt, Fair flowers and falling leaves between, While clocks are chiming clear and keen, A man may very well forget In Rotten Row. W.E. HENLEY. THE DUET. I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the tenor, McKey, Were singing together a blithe duet, And days it were better I should forget Came suddenly back to me,-- Days when life seemed a gay masque ball, And to love and be loved was the sum of it all. As they sang together, the whole scene fled, The room's rich hangings, the sweet home air, Stately Maud, with her proud blond head, And I seemed to see in her place instead A wealth of blue-black hair, And a face, ah! your face--yours, Lisette; A face it were wiser I should forget. We were back--well, no matter when or where; But you remember, I know, Lisette. I saw you, dainty and debonair, With the very same look that you used to wear In the days I should forget. And your lips, as red as the vintage we quaffed, Were pearl-edged bumpers of wine when you laughed. Two small slippers with big rosettes Peeped out under your kilt-skirt there, While we sat smoking our cigarettes (Oh, I shall be dust when my heart forgets!) And singing that self-same air: And between the verses, for interlude, I kissed your throat and your shoulders nude. You were so full of a subtle fire, You were so warm and so sweet, Lisette; You were everything men admire; And there were no fetters to make us tire, For you were--a pretty grisette. But you loved as only such natures can, With a love that makes heaven or hell for a man. They have ceased singing that old duet, Stately Maud and the tenor, McKey. "You are burning your coat with your cigarette, And _qu'avez vous_, dearest, your lids are wet," Maud says, as she leans o'er me. And I smile, and lie to her, husband-wise, "Oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes." ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. MY CIGARETTE. Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry? Why this small tear, So pure and clear, In each blue eye? "My cigarette-- I 'm smoking yet?" (I'll be discreet.) I toss it, see, Away from me Into the street. You see I do All things for you. Come, let us sup. (But, oh, what joy To be that boy Who picked it up.) TOM HALL. A BACHELOR'S VIEWS. A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least its embers; A dog, a glass:-- 'Tis thus we pass Such hours as one remembers. Who'd wish to wed? Poor Cupid's dead These thousand years, I wager. The modern maid Is but a jade, Not worth the time to cage her. In silken gown To "take" the town Her first and last ambition. What good is she To you or me Who have but a "position"? So let us drink To her,--but think Of him who has to keep her; And _sans_ a wife Let's spend our life In bachelordom,--it's cheaper. TOM HALL. PIPES AND BEER. Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old under-ground room I knew, And sip cheap beer, and be glad for it, With a wild Bohemian friend or two. And oh, it was joy to loiter thus, At peace in the heart of the city's stir, Entombed, while life hurried over us, In our lazy bacchanal sepulchre. There was artist George, with the blond Greek head, And the startling creeds, and the loose cravat; There was splenetic journalistic Fred, Of the sharp retort and the shabby hat; There was dreamy Frank, of the lounging gait, Who lived on nothing a year, or less, And always meant to be something great, But only meant, and smoked to excess; And last myself, whom their funny sneers Annoyed no whit as they laughed and said, I listened to all their grand ideas And wrote them out for my daily bread! The Teuton beer-bibbers came and went, Night after night, and stared, good folk, At our table, noisy with argument, And our chronic aureoles of smoke. And oh, my life! but we all loved well The talk,--free, fearless, keen, profound,-- The rockets of wit that flashed and fell In that dull old tavern under-ground! But there came a change in my days at last, And fortune forgot to starve and stint, And the people chose to admire aghast The book I had eaten dirt to print. And new friends gathered about me then, New voices summoned me there and here; The world went down in my dingy den, And drew me forth from the pipes and beer. I took the stamp of my altered lot, As the sands of the certain seasons ran, And slowly, whether I would or not, I felt myself growing a gentleman. But now and then I would break the thrall, I would yield to a pang of dumb regret, And steal to join them, and find them all, With the amber wassail near them yet,-- Find, and join them, and try to seem A fourth for the old queer merry three, With my fame as much of a yearning dream As my morrow's dinner was wont to be. But the wit would lag, and the mirth would lack, And the god of jollity hear no call, And the prosperous broadcloth on my back Hung over their spirits like a pall! It was not that they failed, each one, to try Their warmth of welcome to speak and show; I should just have risen and said good-bye, With a haughty look, had they served me so. It was rather that each would seem, instead, With not one vestige of spleen or pride, Across a chasm of change to spread His greeting hands to the further side. And our gladdest words rang strange and cold, Like the echoes of other long-lost words; And the nights were no more the nights of old Than spring would be spring without the birds! So they waned and waned, these visits of mine, 'Till I married the heiress, ending here. For if caste approves the cigars and wine, She must frown perforce upon pipes and beer. And now 'tis years since I saw these men, Years since I knew them living yet. And of this alone I am sure since then,-- That none has gained what he toiled to get. For I keep strict watch on the world of art, And George, with his wide, rich-dowered brain! His fervent fancy, his ardent heart, Though he greatly toiled, has toiled in vain. And Fred, for all he may sparkle bright In caustic column, in clever quip, Of a truth must still be hiding his light Beneath the bushel of journalship. And dreamy Frank must be dreaming still, Lounging through life, if yet alive, Smoking his vast preposterous fill, Lounging, smoking, striving to strive. And I, the fourth in that old queer throng, Fourth and least, as my soul avows,-- I alone have been counted strong, I alone have the laurelled brows! Well, and what has it all been worth? May not my soul to my soul confess That "succeeding," here upon earth, Does not alway assume success? I would cast, and gladly, from this gray head Its crown, to regain one sweet lost year With artist George, with splenetic Fred, With dreamy Frank, with the pipes and beer! EDGAR FAWCETT. A BACHELOR'S INVOCATION. When all my plans have come to grief, And every bill is due, And every faith that's worth belief Has proved itself untrue; And when, as now, I've jilted been By every girl I've met, Ah! then I flee for peace to thee, My darling cigarette. Hail, sorceress! whose cloudy spells About my senses driven, Alone can loose their prison cells And waft my soul to heaven. Above all earthly loves, I swear, I hold thee best--and yet, Would I could see a match for thee, My darling cigarette. With lips unstained to thee I bring A lover's gentle kiss, And woo thee, see, with this fair ring, And this, and this, and this. But ah, the rings no sooner cease (Inconstant, vain coquette!) Than, like the rest, thou vanishest In smoke, my cigarette. _Pall Mall Gazette_. 
22825	----	THE SMOKER'S YEAR BOOK _The verses written on paper by_ Oliver Herford & _The pictures drawn on stone by_ Sewell Collins [Illustration] The whole published by MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY NEW YORK 1908 _Copyright, 1908, by_ MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY NEW YORK _All rights reserved_ _Published, October, 1908_ JANUARY Now Time the harvester surveys His sorry crops of yesterdays; Of trampled hopes and reaped regrets, And for another harvest whets His ancient scythe, eying the while The budding year with cynic smile. Well, let him smile; in snug retreat I fill my pipe with honeyed sweet, Whose incense wafted from the bowl Shall make warm sunshine in my soul, And conjure mid the fragrant haze Fair memories of other days. [Illustration] [Illustration] FEBRUARY Bend you now before the shrine Of the good Saint Valentine. Show to him your broken heart-- Pray the Saint to take your part. Should he intercede in vain And the maid your heart disdain, Call upon Saint Nicotine; He will surely intervene. Bring burnt off'ring to his feet, Incense of Havana, sweet. Then the maiden's shade invoke, It will disappear in smoke! [Illustration] [Illustration] MARCH Here comes bluff March--a cross between A Jester and a Libertine. He loves to make the parson race With wicked words his hat to chase; To dye with compromising rose The pious man's abstemious nose. The ladies hate him, though he shows A pretty taste for silken hose. The smoker views him with distrust, Shielding his last match from his gust. But once alight--his holy joy No blast from Heaven can destroy! [Illustration] [Illustration] APRIL Lady April, it is clear, Is the spoilt child of the Year. See her tears about to start-- Thus she melts old Winter's heart. Now the gay deceiving thing Turns and plays the deuce with Spring. Winter lingers at her gate; Spring grows chilly and irate. I'd go home if I were he-- It is just such girls as she Make a fellow thank his stars For the solace of cigars. [Illustration] [Illustration] MAY Like Brunhilda, May is won By the kisses of the Sun. Siegfried like, the maid he takes In his arms and she awakes To the tender piping sound Of the birds--while all around In a magic fire ring Purple flames of Crocus spring. Now I fill my fragrant briar, Lo! it glows with gentle fire, Wafting scented wreaths of love To the little leaves above. [Illustration] [Illustration] JUNE "What so rare as a day in June?" Thus I heard the poet croon, To the month of roses sweet, His song with barometric feet. Perfect days I own are rare-- All depends on how you fare. Can a day be perfect to The rose that has not sipped the dew? Can the Bee, do you suppose, Hum, that has not sipped the rose? Can there be for Man, I say, Without a smoke, a perfect day? [Illustration] [Illustration] JULY Red rockets skyward rush pell-mell And fill the night with noise and smell. The stars of Heaven look down, and say: "So this is Independence Day! Poor earth-born stars, it makes us sad To see your fire work like mad To make a Human Holiday. Where is _your_ independence, pray?"-- Whereat I woke--my fire was low, My pipe was out. Said I: "Heigho! I never thought of it that way, I'll give them both a holiday." [Illustration] [Illustration] AUGUST Drowsing o'er my sainted briar, Dreaming dreams of Heart's Desire, Dreaming 'neath the August sun, Thus my meditations run-- What if that great Ember bright Were a monster Pipe alight, Or the glowing from afar Of some Fire-God's cigar? If the Smoker's Peace abide In that sun fire, multiplied By its vastness, I will be Henceforth a devout Parsee. [Illustration] [Illustration] SEPTEMBER As the smoker sometimes sees In Nicotian reveries Features of some Lovely Girl In the tinted wreaths that curl From his pipe; so, as we gaze Through the soft September haze In the years' calm afternoon Red with summer's ashes strewn, Through the tender veil of mist, Woven gold and amethyst, Summer's charming ghost we see Decked in Indian panoply. [Illustration] [Illustration] OCTOBER Say! October, how in thunder Do you keep so young, I wonder? You're no chicken, and you know it, Yet, old man, for all you show it, You might, on a sunny day, Pass for April or for May. See, your house is falling round you, Yet you're laughing--say! confound you, What's the secret? How'd you do it? Mist and moisture? Ah, I knew it! A pipe! A mug! October brew, Fill up--October--here's to you! [Illustration] [Illustration] NOVEMBER Who's that pedler at the door? What! November, back once more? Why, it seems but yesterday That he took himself away! Say I'm out! Tell him to go! He has nothing new to show. Same old lay-out every trip, Same Pneumonia, same old Grippe, Same old Hard Luck tales to tell, Same Thanksgiving Day--oh, well, Show him in--then stir the log And bring church-warden pipes and grog. [Illustration] [Illustration] DECEMBER Proudly beams the Christmas Tree In its tinsel finery. Round and round in sprightly pairs Children dance to old-time airs-- Though they laugh they make no sound; Dancing, still they tread no ground. Naught but airy phantoms they Of a vanished Christmas Day, Ancient playmates found again In a smoke wreath's purple skein, And they whisper in my ear, "Does Christmas still come once a year?" [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration: FINIS] 
24471	----	None 
17008	----	A COVNTER-BLASTE TO TOBACCO. This Edition is limited to seventy-five Large Paper copies, and two hundred and seventy-five Small Paper copies, issued only to Subscribers. Bibliotheca Curiosa. A COVNTER-BLASTE TO TOBACCO. (_WRITTEN BY KING JAMES I._) EDITED BY EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R.H.S. PRIVATELY PRINTED, EDINBURGH. 1884. A Covnter-Blaste To Tobacco. IMPRINTED AT LONDON by R.B. _Anno_ 1604. Transcriber's note: Footnotes moved to end of text. TO THE READER. As euery humane body _(deare Countrey men) how wholesome soeuer, be notwithstanding subiect, or at least naturally inclined to some sorts of diseases, or infirmities: so is there no Common-wealth, or Body-politicke, how well gouerned, or peaceable soeuer it bee, that lackes the owne popular errors, and naturally enclined corruptions: and therefore is it no wonder, although this our Countrey and Common-wealth, though peaceable, though wealthy, though long flourishing in both, be amongst the rest, subiect to the owne naturall infirmities. We are of all Nations the people most louing and most reuerently obedient to our Prince, yet are wee (as time has often borne witnesse) too easie to be seduced to make Rebellion, vpon very slight grounds. Our fortunate and off prooued valour in warres abroad, our heartie and reuerent obedience to our Princes at home, hath bred vs a long, and a thrice happy peace: Our Peace hath bred wealth: And Peace and wealth hath brought foorth a generall sluggishnesse, which makes vs wallow in all sorts of idle delights, and soft delicacies, The first seedes of the subuersion of all great Monarchies. Our Cleargie are become negligent and lazie, our Nobilitie and Gentrie prodigall, and solde to their priuate delights, Our Lawyers couetous, our Common-people prodigall and curious; and generally all sorts of people more carefull for their priuate ends, then for their mother the Common-wealth. For remedie whereof, it is the Kings (as the proper Phisician of his Politicke-body) to purge it of all those diseases, by Medicines meete for the same: as by a certaine milde, and yet iust form of gouernment, to maintaine the Publicke quietnesse, and preuent all occasions of Commotion: by the example of his owne Person and Court, to make vs all ashamed of our sluggish delicacie, and to stirre vs up to the practise againe of all honest exercises, and Martiall shadowes of VVarre; As likewise by his, and his Courts moderatenesse in Apparell, to make vs ashamed of our prodigalitie: By his quicke admonitions and carefull overseeing of the Cleargie to waken them vp againe, to be more diligent in their Offices: By the sharpe triall, and seuere punishment of the partiall, couetous and bribing Lawyers, to reforme their corruptions: And generally by the example of his owne Person, and by the due execution of good Lawes, to reform and abolish, piece and piece, these old and euill grounded abuses. For this will not bee_ Opus vnius diei, _but as euery one of these diseases, must from the_ King _receiue the owne cure proper for it, so are there some sorts of abuses in Common-wealths, that though they be of so base and contemptible a condition, as they are too low for the Law to looke on, and too meane for a_ King _to interpone his authoritie, or bend his eye vpon: yet are they corruptions, as well as the greatest of them. So is an Ant an_ Animal, _as well as an Elephant: so is a VVrenne_ Auis, _as well as a Swanne, and so is a small dint of the Toothake, a disease as well as the fearefull Plague is. But for these base sorts of corruption in Common-wealthes, not onely the_ King, _or any inferior Magistrate, but_ Quilibet è populo _may serve to be a Phisician, by discouering and impugning the error, and by perswading reformation thereof._ _And surely in my opinion, there cannot be a more base, and yet hurtfull corruption in a Countrey, then is the vile vse (or other abuse) of taking_ Tobacco _in this Kingdome, which hath moued me, shortly to discouer the abuses thereof in this following little Pamphlet._ _If any thinke it a light Argument, so it is but a toy that is bestowed upon it. And since the Subiect is but of Smoke, I thinke the fume of an idle braine, may serue for a sufficient battery against so fumous and feeble an enemy. If my grounds be found true, it is all I looke for; but if they cary the force of perswasion with them, it is all I can wish, and more than I can expect. My onely care is, that you, my deare Countrey-men, may rightly conceiue euen by this smallest trifle, of the sinceritie of my meaning in great matters, never to spare any_ _paine that may tend to the_ _procuring of your weale_ _and prosperitie._ A COVNTER-BLASTE TO TOBACCO. That the manifolde abuses of this vile custome of _Tobacco_ taking, may the better be espied, it is fit, that first you enter into consideration both of the first originall thereof, and likewise of the reasons of the first entry thereof into this Countrey. For certainely as such customes, that haue their first institution either from a godly, necessary, or honorable ground, and are first brought in, by the meanes of some worthy, vertuous, and great Personage, are euer, and most iustly, holden in great and reuerent estimation and account, by all wise, vertuous, and temperate spirits: So should it by the contrary, iustly bring a great disgrace into that sort of customes, which hauing their originall from base corruption and barbarity, doe in like sort, make their first entry into a Countrey, by an inconsiderate and childish affectation of Noueltie, as is the true case of the first inuention of _Tobacco_ taking, and of the first entry thereof among vs. For _Tobacco_ being a common herbe, which (though vnder diuers names) growes almost euerywhere, was first found out by some of the barbarous _Indians_, to be a Preseruative, or Antidot against the Pockes, a filthy disease, whereunto these barbarous people are (as all men know) very much subiect, what through the vncleanly and adust constitution of their bodies, and what through the intemperate heate of their Climate: so that as from them was first brought into Christendome, that most detestable disease, so from them likewise was brought this vse of _Tobacco_, as a stinking and vnsauorie Antidot, for so corrupted and execrable a Maladie, the stinking Suffumigation whereof they yet vse against that disease, making so one canker or venime to eate out another. And now good Countrey men let vs (I pray you) consider, what honour or policie can mooue vs to imitate the barbarous and beastly maners of the wilde, godlesse, and slauish _Indians_, especially in so vile and stinking a custome? Shall wee disdaine to imitate the maners of our neighbour _France_ (hauing the stile of the first Christian Kingdom) and that cannot endure the spirit of the Spaniards (their King being now comparable in largenes of Dominions to the great Emperor of _Turkie_). Shall wee, I say, that haue bene so long ciuill and wealthy in Peace, famous and inuincible in Warre, fortunate in both, we that haue bene euer able to aide any of our neighbours (but neuer deafed any of their eares with any of our supplications for assistance) shall we, I say, without blushing, abase our selues so farre, as to imitate these beastly _Indians_, slaves to the _Spaniards_, refuse to the world, and as yet aliens from the holy Couenant of God? Why doe we not as well imitate them in walking naked as they doe? in preferring glasses, feathers, and such toyes, to golde and precious stones, as they do? yea why do we not denie God and adore the Deuill, as they doe?[A] Now to the corrupted basenesse of the first vse of this _Tobacco_, doeth very well agree the foolish and groundlesse first entry thereof into this Kingdome. It is not so long since the first entry of this abuse amongst vs here, as this present age cannot yet very well remember, both the first Author,[B] and the forme of the first introduction of it amongst vs. It was neither brought in by King, great Conquerour, nor learned Doctor of Phisicke. With the report of a great discouery for a Conquest, some two or three Sauage men, were brought in, together with this Sauage custome. But the pitie is, the poore wilde barbarous men died, but that vile barbarous custome is yet aliue,[C] yea in fresh vigor: so as it seemes a miracle to me, how a custome springing from so vile a ground, and brought in by a father so generally hated, should be welcomed vpon so slender a warrant. For if they that first put it in practise heere, had remembred for what respect it was vsed by them from whence it came, I am sure they would haue bene loath, to haue taken so farre the imputation of that disease vpon them as they did, by vsing the cure thereof. For _Sanis non est opus medico_, and counter-poisons are neuer vsed, but where poyson is thought to precede. But since it is true, that diuers customes slightly grounded, and with no better warrant entred in a Commonwealth, may yet in the vse of them thereafter, prooue both necessary and profitable; it is therefore next to be examined, if there be not a full Sympathie and true Proportion, betweene the base ground and foolish entrie, and the loathsome, and hurtfull vse of this stinking Antidote. I am now therefore heartily to pray you to consider, first vpon what false and erroneous grounds you haue first built the generall good liking thereof; and next, what sinnes towards God, and foolish vanities before the world you commit, in the detestable vse of it.[D] As for these deceitfull grounds, that haue specially mooued you to take a good and great conceit thereof, I shall content myselfe to examine here onely foure of the principals of them; two founded vpon the Theoricke of a deceiuable apparance of Reason, and two of them vpon the mistaken Practicke of generall Experience. First, it is thought by you a sure Aphorisme in the Physickes, That the braines of all men, being naturally colde and wet, all dry and hote things should be good for them; of which nature this stinking suffumigation is, and therefore of good vse to them. Of this Argument, both the Proposition and Assumption are false, and so the Conclusion cannot but be voyd of it selfe. For as to the Proposition, That because the braines are colde and moist, therefore things that are hote and drie are best for them, it is an inept consequence: For man beeing compounded of the foure Complexions (whose fathers are the foure Elements) although there be a mixture of them all in all the parts of his body, yet must the diuers parts of our _Microcosme_ or little world within ourselves, be diuersly more inclined, some to one, some to another complexion, according to the diuersitie of their vses, that of these discords a perfect harmonie may bee made vp for the maintenance of the whole body. The application then of a thing of a contrary nature, to any of these parts is to interrupt them of their due function, and by consequence hurtfull to the health of the whole body. As if a man, because the Liuer is hote (as the fountaine of blood) and as it were an ouen to the stomache, would therefore apply and weare close vpon his Liuer and stomache a cake of lead; he might within a very short time (I hope) be susteined very good cheape at an Ordinairie, beside the cleering of his conscience from that deadly sinne of gluttonie. And as if, because the Heart is full of vitall spirits, and in perpetuall motion, a man would therefore lay a heauy pound stone on his breast, for staying and holding downe that wanton palpitation, I doubt not but his breast would bee more bruised with the weight thereof, then the heart would be comforted with such a disagreeable and contrarious cure. And euen so is it with the Braines. For if a man, because the Braines are colde and humide, would therefore vse inwardly by smells, or ontwardly by application, things of hot and drie qualitie, all the gaine that he could make thereof would onely be to put himselfe in a great forwardnesse for running mad, by ouer-watching himselfe, the coldnesse and moistnesse of our braine beeing the onely ordinarie meanes that procure our sleepe and rest. Indeed I do not denie, but when it falls out that any of these, or any part of our bodie growes to be distempered, and to tend to an extremetie, beyond the compasse of Natures temperate mixture, that in that case cures of contrary qualities, to the intemperate inclination of that part, being wisely prepared and discreetely ministered, may be both necessarie and helpefull for strengthning and assisting Nature in the expulsion of her enemies: for this is the true definition of all profitable Physicke. But first these Cures ought not to bee vsed, but where there is neede of them, the contrarie where of, is daily practised in this generall vse of _Tobacco_ by all sorts and complexions of people. And next, I deny the minor of this argument, as I haue already said, in regard that this _Tobacco_, is not simply of a hot and dry qualitie; but rather hath a certaine venemous facultie ioyned with the heate thereof, which makes it haue an Antipathie against nature, as by the hatefull smell thereof doeth well appeare. For the nose being the proper Organ and convoy of the sense of smelling to the braines, which are the onely fountaine of that sense, doeth euer serue vs for an infallible witnesse, whether that Odour which we smell, be healthfull or hurtfull to the braine (except when it fals out that the sense it selfe is corrupted and abused through some infirmitie, and distemper in the braine.) And that the suffumigation thereof cannot haue a drying qualitie, it needes no further probation, then that it is a smoake, all smoake and vapour, being of it selfe humide, as drawing neere to the nature of the ayre, and easie to be resolued againe into water, whereof there needes no other proofe but the meteors, which being bred of nothing else but of the vapours and exhalations sucked vp by the Sunne out of the earth, the Sea, and waters, yet are the same smoakie vapours turned, and transformed into Raynes, Snowes, Dewes, hoare Frostes, and such like waterie Meteors, as by the contrarie the raynie cloudes are often transformed and euaporated in blustering winds. The second Argument grounded on a show of reason is, That this filthie smoake, as well through the heat and strength thereof, as by a naturall force and qualitie, is able and fit to purge both the head and stomacke of Rhewmes and distillations, as experience teacheth, by the spitting and auoyding fleame, immeadiately after the taking of it. But the fallacie of this Argument may easily appeare, by my late preceding description of the Meteors. For euen as the smoakie vapours sucked vp by the Sunne, and staied in the lowest and colde Region of the ayre, are there contracted into Cloudes and turned into raine and such other watery Meteors: So this stinking smoake being sucked vp by the Nose, and imprisoned in the colde and moyst braines, is by their colde and wett facultie, turned and cast foorth againe in waterie distillations, and so are you made free and purged of nothing, but that wherewith you wilfully burdened yourselues: and therefore are you no wiser in taking _Tobacco_ for purging you of distillations, then if for preuenting the Cholike you would take all kinde of windie meates and drinkes, and for preuenting the Stone, you would take all kinde of meates and drinkes, that would breede grauell in the Kidneys, and then when you were forced to auoyde much winde out of your stomacke, and much grauell in your Vrine, that you should attribute the thanke thereof to such nourishments as bred those within you, that behoued either to be expelled by the force of nature, or you to haue _burst at the broad side_, as the Prouerbe is. As for the other two reasons founded vpon experience. The first of which is that the whole people would not haue taken so generall a good liking thereof, if they had not by experience found it verie soueraigne, and good for them: For answere thereunto how easily the mindes of any people, wherewith God hath replenished this world, may be drawen to the foolish affectation of any noueltie, I leaue it to the discreet iudgement of any man that is reasonable. Doe we not dayly see, that a man can no sooner bring ouer from beyond the Seas any new forme of apparell, but that hee cannot bee thought a man of spirit, that would not presently imitate the same? And so from hand to hand it spreades, till it be practised by all, not for any commoditie that is in it, but only because it is come to be the fashion. For such is the force of that naturall Selfe-loue in euery one of vs, and such is the corruption of enuie bred in the brest of euery one, as we cannot be content vnlesse we imitate euerything that our fellowes doe, and so prooue our selues capable of euerything whereof they are capable, like Apes, counterfeiting the maners of others, to our owne destruction.[E] For let one or two of the greatest Masters of Mathematickes in any of the two famous Vniuersities, but constantly affirme any cleare day, that they see some strange apparition in the skies: they will I warrant you be seconded by the greatest part of the Students in that profession: So loath will they be, to bee thought inferiour to their fellowes, either in depth of knowledge or sharpnesse of sight: And therefore the generall good liking and imbracing of this foolish custome, doeth but onely proceede from that affectation of noueltie, and popular errour, whereof I haue already spoken.[F] The other argument drawen from a mistaken experience, is but the more particular probation of this generall, because it is alleaged to be found true by proofe, that by the taking of _Tobacco_ diuers and very many doe finde themselves cured of diuers diseases as on the other part, no man euer receiued harme thereby. In this argument there is first a great mistaking and next a monstrous absurditie. For is it not a very great mistaking, to take _Non causam pro causa_, as they say in the Logicks? because peraduenture when a sicke man hath had his disease at the height, hee hath at that instant taken _Tobacco_, and afterward his disease taking the naturall course of declining, and consequently the patient of recouering his health, O then the _Tobacco_ forsooth, was the worker of that miracle. Beside that, it is a thing well knowen to all Physicians, that the apprehension and conceit of the patient hath by wakening and vniting the vitall spirits, and so strengthening nature, a great power and vertue, to cure diuers diseases. For an euident proofe of mistaking in the like case, I pray you what foolish boy, what sillie wench, what olde doting wife, or ignorant countrey clowne, is not a Physician for the toothach, for the cholicke, and diuers such common diseases? Yea, will not euery man you meete withal, teach you a sundry cure for the same, and sweare by that meane either himselfe, or some of his neerest kinsmen and friends was cured? And yet I hope no man is so foolish as to beleue them. And al these toyes do only proceed from the mistaking _Non causam pro causa_, as I haue already sayd, and so if a man chance to recouer one of any disease, after he hath taken _Tobacco_, that must haue the thankes of all. But by the contrary, if a man smoke himselfe to death with it (and many haue done) O then some other disease must beare the blame for that fault. So do olde harlots thanke their harlotrie for their many yeeres, that custome being healthfull (say they) _ad purgandos Renes_, but neuer haue minde how many die of the Pockes in the flower of their youth. And so doe olde drunkards thinke they prolong their dayes, by their swinelike diet, but neuer remember howe many die drowned in drinke before they be halfe olde. And what greater absurditie can there bee, then to say that one cure shall serue for diuers, nay, contrarious sortes of diseases? It is an vndoubted ground among all Physicians, that there is almost no sort either of nourishment or medicine, that hath not some thing in it disagreeable to some part of mans bodie, because, as I haue already sayd, the nature of the temperature of euery part, is so different from another, that according to the olde prouerbe, That which is good for the head, is euill for the necke and the shoulders. For euen as a strong enemie, that inuades a towne or fortresse, although in his siege thereof, he do belaie and compasse it round about, yet he makes his breach and entrie, at some one or few special parts thereof, which hee hath tried and found to bee weakest and least able to resist; so sicknesse doth make her particular assault, vpon such part or parts of our bodie, as are weakest and easiest to be ouercome by that sort of disease, which then doth assaile vs, although all the rest of the body by Sympathie feele it selfe, to be as it were belaied, and besieged by the affliction of that speciall part, the griefe and smart thereof being by the sense of feeling dispersed through all the rest of our members. And therefore the skilfull Physician presses by such cures, to purge and strengthen that part which is afflicted, as are only fit for that sort of disease, and doe best agree with the nature of that infirme part; which being abused to a disease of another nature, would prooue as hurtfull for the one, as helpfull for the other. Yea, not only will a skilfull and warie Physician bee carefull to vse no cure but that which is fit for that sort of disease, but he wil also consider all other circumstances, and make the remedies suitable thereunto; as the temperature of the clime where the Patient is, the constitution of the Planets,[G] the time of the Moone, the season of the yere, the age and complexion of the Patient, and the present state of his body, in strength or weaknesse. For one cure must not euer be vsed for the self-same disease, but according to the varying of any of the foresaid circumstances, that sort of remedie must be vsed which is fittest for the same. Whear by the contrarie in this case, such is the miraculous omnipotencie of our strong tasted _Tobacco_, as it cures all sorts of diseases (which neuer any drugge could do before) in all persons, and at all times. It cures all maner of distellations, either in the head or stomacke (if you beleeue their Axiomes) although in very deede it doe both corrupt the braine, and by causing ouer quicke disgestion, fill the stomacke full of crudities. It cures the Gowt in the feet, and (which is miraculous) in that very instant when the smoke thereof, as light, flies vp into the head, the vertue thereof, as heauie, runs downe to the little toe. It helpes all sorts of Agues. It makes a man sober that was drunke. It refreshes a weary man, and yet makes a man hungry. Being taken when they goe to bed, it makes one sleepe soundly, and yet being taken when a man is sleepie and drowsie, it will, as they say, awake his braine, and quicken his vnderstanding. As for curing of the Pockes, it serues for that vse but among the pockie Indian slaues. Here in _England_ it is refined, and will not deigne to cure heere any other then cleanly and gentlemanly diseases. Omnipotent power of _Tobacco_! And if it could by the smoke thereof chace our deuils, as the smoke of _Tobias_ fish did (which I am sure could smel no stronglier) it would serue for a precious Relicke, both for the superstitious Priests, and the insolent Puritanes, to cast out deuils withall. Admitting then, and not confessing that the vse thereof were healthfull for some sortes of diseases; should it be vsed for all sicknesses? should it be vsed by all men? should it be vsed at al times? yea should it be vsed by able, yong, strong, healthfull men? Medicine hath that vertue that it neuer leaueth a man in that state wherein it findeth him: it makes a sicke man whole, but a whole man sicke. And as Medicine helpes nature being taken at times of necessitie, so being euer and continually vsed, it doth but weaken, wearie, and weare nature. What speak I of Medicine? Nay let a man euery houre of the day, or as oft as many in this countrey vse to take _Tobacco_, let a man I say, but take as oft the best sorts of nourishments in meate and drinke that can bee deuised, hee shall with the continuall vse thereof weaken both his head and his stomacke: all his members shall become feeble, his spirits dull, and in the end, as a drowsie lazie belly-god, he shall euanish in a Lethargie. And from this weaknesse it proceeds, that many in this kingdome haue had such a continuall vse of taking this vnsauerie smoke, as now they are not able to forbeare the same, no more than an olde drunkard can abide to be long sober, without falling into an vncurable weakenesse and euill constitution: for their continuall custome hath made to them, _habitum, alteram naturam_: so to those that from their birth haue bene continually nourished vpon poison and things venemous, wholesome meates are onely poisonable. Thus hauing, as I truste, sufficiently answered the most principall arguments that are vsed in defence of this vile custome, it rests onely to informe you what sinnes and vanities you commit in the filthie abuse thereof. First are you not guiltie of sinnefull and shamefull lust? (for lust may bee as well in any of the senses as in feeling) that although you bee troubled with no disease, but in perfect health, yet can you neither be merry at an Ordinarie, nor lasciuious in the Stewes, if you lacke _Tobacco_ to prouoke your appetite to any of those sorts of recreation, lusting after it as the children of Israel did in the wildernesse after Quailes? Secondly it is, as you vse or rather abuse it, a branche of the sinne of drunkennesse, which is the roote of all sinnes: for as the onely delight that drunkards take in wine is in the strength of the taste, and the force of the fume thereof that mounts vp to the braine: for no drunkards loue any weake, or sweete drinke: so are not those (I meane the strong heate and the fume), the onely qualities that make _Tobacco_ so delectable to all the louers of it? And as no man likes strong headie drinke the first day (because _nemo repente fit turpissimus_), but by custome is piece and piece allured, while in the ende, a drunkard will haue as great a thirst with a draught as when hee hath need of it: So is not this the very case of all the great takers of _Tobacco_? which therefore they themselues do attribute to a bewitching qualitie in it. Thirdly, is it not the greatest sinne of all, that you the people of all sortes of this Kingdome, who are created and ordeined by God to bestowe both your persons and goods for the maintenance both of the honour and safetie of your King and Commonwealth, should disable yourselves in both? In your persons hauing by this continuall vile custome brought yourselues to this shameful imbecilitie, that you are not able to ride or walke the journey of a Jewes Sabboth, but you must haue a reekie cole brought you from the next poore house to kindle your _Tobacco_ with? where as he cannot be thought able for any seruice in the warres, that cannot endure oftentimes the want of meate, drinke, and sleepe, much more then must hee endure the want of _Tobacco_. In the times of the many glorious and victorious battailes fought by this nation, there was no word of _Tobacco_. But now if it were time of warres, and that you were to make some sudden _Caualcado_[H] vpon your enemies, if any of you should seeke leisure to stay behinde his fellowe for taking of _Tobacco_, for my part I should neuer bee sorie for any euill chance that might befall him.[I] To take a custome in any thing that bee left againe, is most harmefull to the people of any land. _Mollicies_ and delicacie were the wracke and ouerthrow, first of the Persian, and next of the Romane Empire. And this very custome of taking _Tobacco_ (whereof our present purpose is), is euen at this day accounted so effeminate among the Indians themselues, as in the market they will offer no price for a slaue to be sold, whome they finde to be a great _Tobacco_ taker. Now how you are by this custome disabled in your goods, let the gentry of this land beare witnesse, some of them bestowing three, some foure hundred pounds a yeere[J] vpon this precious stinke, which I am sure might be bestowed vpon many farre better vses. I read indeede of a knauish Courtier, who for abusing the fauour of the Emperour _Alexander Seuerus_ his master by taking bribes to intercede, for sundry persons in his master's eare (for whom he neuer once opened his mouth) was iustly choked with smoke, with this doome, _Fumo pereat, qui fumum vendidit_: but of so many smoke-buyers, as are at this present in this kingdome, I neuer read nor heard. And for the vanities committed in this filthie custome, is it not both great vanitie and vncleanenesse, that at the table, a place of respect, of cleanlinesse, of modestie, men should not be ashamed, to sit tossing of _Tobacco pipes_, and puffing of the smoke of _Tobacco_ one to another, making the filthie smoke and stinke thereof, to exhale athwart the dishes, and infect the aire, when very often, men that abhorre it are at their repast? Surely Smoke becomes a kitchin far better then a Dining chamber, and yet it makes a kitchen also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soiling and infecting them, with an vnctuous and oily kinde of Soote, as hath bene found in some great _Tobacco_ takers, that after their death were opened. And not onely meate time, but no other time nor action is exempted from the publicke vse of this vnciuill tricke: so as if the wiues of _Diepe_ list to contest with this nation for good maners their worst maners would in all reason be found at least not so dishonest (as ours are) in this point. The publike vse whereof, at all times, and in all places, hath now so farre preuailed, as diuers men very sound both in iudgement, and complexion, haue bene at last forced to take it also without desire, partly because they were ashamed to seeme singular (like the two Philosophers that were forced to duck themselues in that raine water, and so become fooles as well as the rest of the people) and partly, to be as one that was content to eate Garlicke (which he did not loue) that he might not be troubled with the smell of it, in the breath of his fellowes. And is it not a great vanitie, that a man cannot heartily welcome his friend now, but straight they must bee in hand with _Tobacco_? No it is become in place of a cure, a point of good fellowship, and he that will refuse to take a pipe of _Tobacco_ among his fellowes, (though by his own election he would rather feele the sauour of a Sinke[K]) is accounted peeuish and no good company, euen as they doe with tippeling in the cold Easterne Countries. Yea the Mistresse cannot in a more manerly kinde, entertaine her seruant, then by giuing him out of her faire hand a pipe of _Tobacco_. But herein is not onely a great vanitie, but a great contempt of God's good giftes, that the sweetenesse of mans breath, being a good gift of God, should be willfully corrupted by this stinking smoke, wherein I must confesse, it hath too strong a vertue: and so that which is an ornament of nature, and can neither by any artifice be at the first acquired, nor once lost, be recouered againe, shall be filthily corrupted with an incurable stinke, which vile qualitie is as directly contrary to that wrong opinion which is holden of the wholesomnesse thereof, as the venime of putrifaction is contrary to the vertue Preseruatiue. Moreouer, which is a great iniquitie, and against all humanitie, the husband shall not bee ashamed, to reduce thereby his delicate, wholesome, and cleane complexioned wife, to that extremetie, that either shee must also corrupt her sweete breath therewith, or else resolue to liue in a perpetuall stinking torment. Haue you not reason then to bee ashamed, and to forbeare this filthie noueltie, so basely grounded, so foolishly receiued and so grossely mistaken in the right vse thereof? In your abuse thereof sinning against God, harming yourselues both in persons and goods, and taking also thereby the markes and notes of vanitie vpon you: by the custome thereof making your selues to be wondered at by all forraine ciuil Nations, and by all strangers that come among you, to be scorned and contemned. A custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the Lungs, and in the blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomelesse. UNWIN BROTHERS, PRINTERS, LONDON AND CHILWORTH. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote A: This argument is merely that because an inferior race has made a discovery, a superior one would be debasing itself by making use of it.] [Footnote B: By Sir Walter Raleigh, one of the greatest and most learned men of the age, whose head the author cut off, partly influenced, no doubt, by his detestation of tobacco. Smokers may therefore look upon the author of the "History of the World" as the first martyr in their cause.] [Footnote C: A centenarian has recently died, the papers relate, who, till within a few days of his death, was in perfect health, having been a constant smoker, but was unfortunately induced by his friends to give up the habit, from which moment he rapidly sank. Probably these barbarians were affected in the same manner.] [Footnote D: Had the royal pedant ever heard of locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen?] [Footnote E: The previous arguments can of course have no weight in our day, but this tendency to imitate others is as true now as then. Evidently, if the Darwinian theory holds good, a matter of three centuries is not sufficient to cause any perceptible diminution in the strength of original instinct inherited from the ape.] [Footnote F: Time has taken upon itself to upset this argument; for though the novelty may certainly be said to have worn off, the habit itself is more firmly rooted than ever.] [Footnote G: This shows that so late as the 17th century the influence of the planets on the body was an article of firm belief, even amongst the learned. The following recipes may be of interest to the reader. They are taken from a manuscript volume which belonged to and was probably written by Sir John Floyer, physician to King Charles II., who practised at Lichfield, in the Cathedral library of which city the volume now is:--"An antidote to ye plague: take a cock chicken and pull off ye feathers from ye tayle till ye rump bee bare; you hold ye bare of ye same upon ye sore, and ye chicken will gape and labour for life, and in ye end will dye. Then take another and do ye like, and so another still as they dye, till one lives, for then ye venome is drawne out. The last chicken will live and ye patient will mend very speedily." "Madness in a dog: 'Pega, Tega, Sega, Docemena Mega.' These words written, and ye paper rowl'd up and given to a dog, or anything that is mad, cure him."] [Footnote H: Or Camisado. A night attack on horseback, wherein the attacking party put their shirts on over their armour, in order to recognise each other in the darkness. Charles II. attempted a Camisado at Worcester, which did not succeed, owing to treachery.] [Footnote I: Our royal author would no doubt have been astonished to see English officers smoking on the field of battle, which I am told is now a common occurrence.] [Footnote J: It was not dreamt of in James's philosophy, that the price of tobacco might fall to 5s. 6d. and less a pound.] [Footnote K: They still say in Scotland, "To feel a smell."] 
27117	----	Wheat That One Man Could Grow and Harvest. Moreover, Tobacco Could Be Shipped More Economically Than Any Other Crop; Thus the Monetary Return Upon a Cargo Was Greater Than for Any Other Crop That Could Be Produced in the Colony. One Other Factor Must Not Be Overlooked. One of the Basic Aims of the English Colonial Policy Was the Development Of Colonial Resources, Which Would at the Same Time Create a Colonial Market for English Manufactures in the Colonies. Tobacco Proved To Be Virginia's Most Valuable Staple, and With Everyone Feverishly Growing the Plant, the Colony Became an Important Colonial Market. Virginia Purchased English Goods Delivered in English Ships With Her Tobacco, England Marketed Much of the Tobacco In Europe and Received Specie Or Goods That Could Be Sold Elsewhere. This Created a Market for English Manufactures, the English Merchant Fleet Profited From the Carrying Trade and There Was No Drain of Specie From England. THE TOBACCO PLANTATION: FROM JAMESTOWN TO THE BLUE RIDGE The cultivation of tobacco soon spread from John Rolfe's garden to every available plot of ground within the fortified districts in Jamestown. By 1617 the value of tobacco was well known in every settlement or plantation in Virginia--Bermuda, Dale's Gift, Henrico, Jamestown, Kecoughtan, and West and Shirley Hundreds--each under a commander. Governor Dale allowed its culture to be gradually extended until it absorbed the whole attention at West and Shirley Hundreds and Jamestown. [Illustration: _TOBACCO at Jamestown--1600's_ Courtesy of Sidney E. King] The first general planting in the colony began at West and Shirley Hundreds where twenty-five men, commanded by a Captain Madison, were employed solely in planting and curing tobacco. In 1616 the tobacco fever struck furiously in Jamestown. The following description indicates the impact of the "fever": there were "but five or six houses, the church downe, the palizado's broken, the bridge in pieces, the well of fresh water spoiled; the storehouse used for the church..., [and] the colony dispersed all about, planting tobacco." The "Noxious weed" was even growing in the streets and in the market place. By 1622 plantations extended at intervals from Point Comfort as far as 140 miles up the James River, and the planters were so absorbed in the cultivation of tobacco that they gave the Indians firearms and employed them to do their hunting. This boldness was shortlived, for the Indian Massacre of 1622 tended to narrow the area under cultivation for that year. Even so, the planters were able to produce 60,000 pounds of tobacco. Within a year after the massacre the settlers once again became very bold and extended cultivated areas even farther than before. Prior to the massacre, the planters had difficulty in clearing the ground of timber; afterwards, they took over the fields cleared by the Indians which were said to be among the best in the colony. Expansion was further facilitated by the "head-right" system, introduced in 1618, which gave fifty acres of land to any person who transported a settler to the colony. For the first twenty years after the landing at Jamestown, the settlers restricted themselves to the valley of the James and to the Accomac Peninsula. For the next thirty years there was a gradual expansion to the north and west along the banks of the James, York, and the Rappahannock rivers and their tributaries. By 1650 the frontiersmen had reached the Potomac. From Jamestown, settlements gradually spread up and down both banks of the James and its tributaries, the Elizabeth, Nansemond, Appomattox, and the Chickahominy. Then came the settlements along the York and its tributaries, the Mattapony and the Pamunkey; and finally, along the banks of the Rappahannock and the Potomac. The expansion into the interior did not take place until the Tidewater area had become fairly well settled. The tidal creeks and rivers afforded a safe and convenient means of communication while the country was thickly forested and infested with unfriendly Indians. By settling on the peninsulas, formed by the tidal creeks and rivers, it was easier to protect the early settlements once the Indians had been driven out. In 1629 there were from 4,000 to 5,000 English settlers, confined almost exclusively to the James River valley and to the Accomac Peninsula, where they cultivated about 2,000 acres of tobacco. By 1635 tobacco had almost disappeared in the immediate vicinity of Jamestown, as many of the planters moved to new land along the south bank of the York River. At this time there were settlements in the following eight counties: Henrico, located on both sides of the James River, between Arrahattock and Shirley Hundred; Charles City, also located on both sides of the James from Shirley Hundred Island to Weyanoke; James City, on both sides of the James from Chippoakes to Lawnes Creek, and from the Chickahominy River on the north side to a point nearly opposite the mouth of Lawnes Creek; Warrasquoke (Isle of Wight), contained the area from the southern limit of James City to the Warrasquoke River; Warwick and Elizabeth City, the rest of the remaining settlements on the James River; Charles River (York), all of the plantations on the south bank of the York River; and finally Accomac. The plantations were still more thickly grouped in James City than in any other county. By the late 1630's, attempts to reduce the amount of tobacco grown in the colony, by limiting the number of plants each person could plant, had caused many planters to leave their plantations in search of virgin soil in which more tobacco per plant could be grown. They frequently built temporary dwellings, as they expected to move on as soon as the land under cultivation showed signs of exhaustion. In 1648 planters in large numbers sought permission from Governor Berkeley and the Council to move across the York River, to take up the virgin and unclaimed land. Spreading north the frontiersmen had reached the Rappahannock and the Potomac by 1650, and settlers began moving into Lancaster County. In 1653 the first settlers established themselves in what is now King William County. Just before the end of the seventeenth century the tobacco industry had expanded into the lowlands all along the Rappahannock and Potomac rivers below the Fall Line. In 1689 the York River area produced the largest quantity of tobacco, the Rappahannock River area was second, the Upper James third, and the Accomac Peninsula last. While the production of tobacco continued to expand north and west, it made little headway in the sandy counties of Princess Anne and Norfolk. All during the seventeenth century expansion tended to extend in a northerly direction within the Tidewater region, but in the eighteenth century the movement was to the west in search of virgin soil. Planters began moving beyond the Fall Line soon after the turn of the century. Robert Carter of Nomini Hall patented over 900 acres of land above the Falls in 1707. It is generally agreed that the commercial production of tobacco began to expand beyond the Fall Line about 1720. In 1723 a traveler, who had just visited above the Falls, mentioned seeing many fields of tobacco. In the following year Robert Carter had hundreds of additional acres surveyed, in what is now Prince William County, as he extended his holdings above the Fall Line. The tobacco industry seems to have been fairly well established as far west as Spotsylvania, Hanover, and Goochland counties as early as 1730. In the year 1740 Elias and William Edmunds were among the first settlers in Fauquier County. They settled near what is now Warrenton and began producing tobacco of excellent quality, which soon came to be known as "Edmonium Tobacco." Ten years later large quantities were being produced in Albemarle (including present Nelson and Amherst counties), Cumberland, Augusta, and Culpeper counties. During the six-year period 1750-1755, tobacco production appears to have been centered equally in three areas: the Upper James River district, the York River district, and the Rappahannock River district. Each of the three districts exported about 83,000 hogsheads of tobacco, while the Lower James River district exported only about 10,000. Just prior to the American Revolution the tobacco industry began to expand rapidly south of the James River, especially to the south and west of Petersburg. One observer declared in 1769 that the Petersburg warehouses contained more tobacco than all the rest of the warehouses on the James or the York River. It was estimated that 20,000 hogsheads were being produced annually in that region alone. A considerable amount of tobacco was also being grown in the lower region of the Valley of Virginia. As the tobacco industry continued to expand into Piedmont Virginia, there was a gradual decline in the Tidewater area. The increase in population naturally caused a continual expansion of the tobacco industry from its meager beginnings at Jamestown, but this was not the major cause. The primary cause was the wasteful cultivation methods practiced by the planters. To obtain the greatest yield from his land the planter raised three or four consecutive crops of tobacco in one field, then moved on to virgin fields. This practice was begun on a relatively large scale as early as 1632 when a planting restriction of 1,500 plants per person was enacted, causing many planters to leave their estates in search of better land in an effort to increase the quality of their tobacco. As cheap virgin soil became scarce, planters left their lands in Tidewater to take up fresh acreage in the Piedmont, or they stayed at home and grew grain, some corn but mostly wheat. We can only generalize as to when and how extensive this substitution of wheat for tobacco may have been. There are those who believe that a permanent shift away from tobacco began as early as 1720 on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, while others state that it did not start until about ten years later. As early as 1759 all of the best lands in Virginia were reported to have been taken, and by the time of the Revolution the supply was said to have been completely exhausted. In 1771 there were rumors that at least one hundred of the principal Virginia planters had given up the tobacco culture entirely and converted their plantations to something more profitable. However, it is generally agreed that tobacco was not abandoned extensively in Tidewater before the Revolution. The first appreciable decline came during the Revolution and this trend continued until the tobacco was almost completely abandoned in Tidewater in the nineteenth century. The rise in demand for foodstuffs during the war caused planters to shift from tobacco in increasing numbers. Many of them only reduced their tobacco crop at first, but later abandoned it completely. After the Revolution wheat was substituted for tobacco quite extensively, but owing to the expansion into the Piedmont, Virginia's post-war tobacco production soon equalled that of the prewar years. Tobacco was still grown in Tidewater Virginia and some beyond the western boundary of the Piedmont, but by this time Tidewater had ceased to be the "tobacco country" of previous years. The production of tobacco continued to increase in the Piedmont and decrease in Tidewater, and Piedmont Virginia became more firmly established as Virginia's tobacco belt. This change was due partly to the fact that the virgin and fertile soils of the West kept tobacco prices so low that it could not be profitably produced on the manured worn out soils in the East. Tidewater was becoming full of old tobacco fields covered with young pine trees and the industry became concentrated largely in middle and southern Virginia. By 1800 Piedmont Virginia had definitely become the major tobacco producing area. [Illustration: Old Tobacco Warehouse, built 1680 at Urbanna, Virginia Courtesy of Mrs. H. I. Worthington] [Illustration: The mild species of tobacco which Rolfe imported from the West Indies. The harsh species of tobacco which Rolfe found the Indians cultivating. Courtesy of George Arents, and Virginia State Library] Expansion and new developments over a period of years brought about a fantastic increase in tobacco production. When its production was confined to the Tidewater area, Virginia produced about 40,000,000 pounds annually; by 1800 this amount had doubled. Virginia remained the leading producer of tobacco in the United States until the War Between the States, when she was replaced by Kentucky, owing to the devastating effects of the war in the Old Dominion. In the South the nature of the crop usually determines the number of acres that one person can cultivate successfully. Only a small number of acres of tobacco can be cultivated properly owing to its high value of yield per acre and the careful supervision required. The production of tobacco per acre does not appear to have changed very much in the long period from about 1650 to 1800, when 1,000 pounds per acre was considered a good yield. However, the amount that one man could produce increased during this period as the planters became more experienced and the plow and other implements came to be used more extensively. It has been estimated that in 1624 one man could properly cultivate and harvest only about one-half of an acre of tobacco, or about 400 pounds. At the beginning of the eighteenth century the average product of one man was from 1,500 to 2,000 pounds or in terms of acreage, from one and a half to two acres, plus six or seven barrels of corn. Around 1775 one man produced from 2,000 to 2,500 pounds of tobacco besides provisions. Thus it appears that during most of the Colonial period one man could cultivate one and a half to two acres of tobacco, plus provisions; but by the end of this period he had increased the productiveness of his own labor. MANAGEMENT OF THE CROP Cultivation practices during the early years at Jamestown appear to have been a combination of those used by the Indians and those of the farmers in England; modifications and new techniques were developed as the settlers became experienced planters. The early Jamestown settlers followed the Indian custom of planting the tobacco seed in hills as they did corn, although some probably followed the practice as described by Stevens and Liebault's _Maison Rustique_ or _The Country Farm_, published in London in 1606: For to sow it, you must make a hole in the earth with your finger and that as deep as your finger is long, then you must cast into the same hole ten or twelve seeds of the said Nicotiana together, and fill up the hole again: for it is so small, as that if you should put in but four or five seeds the earth would choake it: and if the time be dry, you must water the place easily some five days after: And when the herb is grown out of the earth, inasmuch as every seed will have put up his sprout and stalk, and that the small thready roots are entangled the one within the other, you must with a great knife make a composs within the earth in the places about this plot where they grow and take up the earth and all together, and cast them into a bucket full of water, to the end that the earth may be separated, and the small and tender impes swim about the water; and so you shall sunder them one after another without breaking them. This was perhaps the forerunner of the tobacco plantbed, as it appears from the above description that a half dozen or so plants were taken from each hill sown and transplanted nearby. Just when the planters stopped planting tobacco like corn is not known. Thomas Glover's _Account of Virginia_, written in 1671, is perhaps the first written account which mentions sowing the seeds in beds. He wrote, "In the Twelve-daies [before Christmas?] they begin to sow their seed in the beds of fine Mould..." A somewhat more detailed account was written in 1688 by John Clayton, an English clergyman visiting in Virginia. He relates that before the seeds were sown the planters tested the seed by throwing a few into the fire; if they sparkled like gunpowder, they were declared to be good. The ground was chopped fine and the seeds, mixed with ashes, were sown around the middle of January. To protect the young plants, the seedbed was usually covered with oak leaves, though straw was used occasionally. Straw was thought to harbor and breed a fly that destroyed the young plants, and if straw was used, it was first smoked with brimstone to kill this fly. Oak boughs were then placed on top of the leaves or straw and left there until the frosts were gone, at which time they were removed so that the young tender plants were exposed to allow them to grow strong and large enough to be transplanted. Post-Revolutionary plantbed practices were essentially those of the early colonial planters, with slight modifications as they became more experienced. In choosing plantbed sites, a sunny southern or southeastern exposure on a virgin slope near a stream was preferred. This enabled the planter to water his plantbed in case of a drought. The practice of burning the plantbeds over with piles of brush and logs prior to seeding was no doubt a seventeenth century custom, but the first available record was found in an account written during the Revolution. To clear land for cultivation, the settlers felled the trees about a yard from the ground to prevent the stump from sprouting and to cause the stump to decay sooner. Some of the wood was burnt or carried off and the rest was left on the field to rot. The area between the stumps and logs was then broken up with the hoe. In their ardent quest for more cleared land, the planters frequently cultivated old Indian fields, which the Indian had abandoned for one reason or another. Such land was always found to be of the best soil. Clayton stated that after the land was chopped fine, hills to set every plant in were raised to "about the bigness of a common Mole-hill...." A later account by William Tatham, relates that the hills were made by drawing a round heap of earth about knee high around the leg of the worker, the foot was then withdrawn and the top of the hill was flattened with the back of the hoe. In 1628 the hills were made at a distance of four and one-half feet, the distance was reduced to four feet by 1671, and by 1700, three feet became and remained the usual distance. The plants were considered large enough to be transplanted when they had grown to be about the "Breadth of a Shilling," usually around the first or second week in May. The earlier in May the better, so that the crop would mature in time to harvest before the frosts came. Planters usually waited for a rain or "season" to begin transplanting. One person with a container (usually a basket) of plants dropped a plant near each hill; another followed, made a hole in the center of each hill with his fingers, inserted the roots and pressed the earth around the roots with his hands. Several "seasons" and several drawings from the plantbeds were usually required before the entire crop was planted, which was frequently not until sometime in July. The tobacco was hoed for the first time about eight to ten days after planting, or to use a common expression, when the plants had "taken root." The tobacco was usually hoed once each week or as often as was deemed necessary to keep the soil "loose" and the weeds down. When the plants were about knee high they were "hilled up," as the Indian had done his corn, or the Englishman his cabbage, and considered "laid by." Frequently some of the plants died or were cut off by an earthworm; these vacant hills were usually replanted during the month of June, except when prohibited by law. This restriction was an attempt to reduce the amount of inferior tobacco at harvest time. Around 1800, plows were still rarely used in new grounds, but they appear to have been rather common in the old fields. George Washington used the plow to lay off his tobacco rows into three-foot squares, the hills were then made directly on the cross so that in the early stages of its growth the tobacco could be cultivated with the plow each way. The plow lightened the burden of cultivation by requiring less hoe work. When the plant began to bloom, usually six or seven weeks after planting, the plant was topped; that is, the top of the plant was pinched out with the thumb and finger nails. The number of leaves left on the plant depended largely upon the fertility of the soil. In the early days of the colony, planters left twenty-five or thirty leaves on a plant, by 1671 the number had been reduced to twelve or sixteen in very rich soil. Throughout the seventeenth century the General Assembly, in an attempt to reduce production, occasionally limited the number of leaves that could be left on a plant after topping. After around 1700, from five to nine leaves were left on the plant, depending on the strength of the soil. After topping, the plant grew no higher, but the leaves grew larger and heavier and sprouts or suckers appeared at the junction of the stalk and the leaf stem. If allowed to grow they injured the marketable quality of tobacco by taking up plant food that would have gone into the leaves. These suckers were removed by pinching them off with the thumb and finger nails. Owing to his laziness or ignorance, the Indian did not top his tobacco, though he did keep the suckers out. Tobacco that has been topped will produce a second set of suckers once the first growth has been removed. If the tobacco is not topped, only three or four suckers will appear, and these grow in the very top of the plant. During the course of the growing season the colonial planter had two sets of suckers to remove, from the junction of each leaf and from the bottom to the top of the plant, whereas the Indian had only a total of three or four per plant. Thus it appears that the planter learned from his own experience to top tobacco, and that it was a laborious though profitable task. It has been said that topping was first used as a means of limiting the production of tobacco to the very best grades by the planters as early as the 1620's. Only a planter with considerable experience could tell when the plant was ripe for harvest. This no doubt accounts for much of the inferior tobacco produced in the early days of the colony. Planters usually had their own individual methods of determining when a plant was ripe for cutting. Some thought the plants were ripe and ready to cut when a vigorous growth of suckers appeared around the root; others believed the plant was ripe when the top leaves of the plant became covered with yellow spots and "rolled over," touching the ground. Occasionally it had to be cut regardless of its maturity to save it from the frost. During the early days at Jamestown the tobacco was harvested by pulling the ripe leaves from the plants growing in the fields. The leaves were then piled in heaps and covered with hay to be cured by sweating. In 1617, a Mr. Lambert discovered that the leaves cured better when strung on lines than when sweated under the hay. This innovation was further facilitated in 1618 when Governor Argall prohibited the use of hay to sweat tobacco, owing to the scarcity of fodder for the cattle. It was probably this new method of curing that led to the building of tobacco barns, which were known to be in use at the time of the Indian Massacre in 1622. By 1671 the planters had stopped stringing the leaves on lines; the tobacco plant was cut off just above the top of the ground and left lying in the field for three or four hours, or until the leaves "fell" or became somewhat withered so that the plant could be handled without breaking the stems and fibers in the leaves. The plants were then carried into the tobacco barns, and hung on tobacco sticks by a small peg that had been driven into each stalk. During the early years of the eighteenth century the pegs were superseded by partially spliting the stalk and hanging it on the sticks. The use of fire in curing tobacco was also introduced during this century, but was rarely used before the Revolution. The earlier accounts refer to curing as the action of the air and sun. If the plant was large, the stalk was split down the middle six or seven inches below the extremity of the split, then turned directly bottom upwards to enable the sun to cause it to "fall", or wither faster. The plants were then brought to the scaffolds, which were generally erected all around the tobacco barns, and placed with the splits across a small oak stick about an inch in diameter and four and a half feet long. The sticks of tobacco were then placed on the scaffold. The tobacco remained there to cure for a brief period and then the sticks were removed from the outdoor scaffolds, carried into the tobacco barn and placed on the tier poles erected in successive regular graduation from near the bottom to the top of the barn. Once the barn was filled, the curing was sometimes hastened by making fires on the floor of the barn. Around 1800 the most common method was still air-curing, fire was used primarily to keep the tobacco from molding in damp weather. During the War of 1812 there was a considerable shift to fire-curing owing to the demand in Europe for a smoky flavored leaf. Fire-curing not only gave tobacco a different taste, but it also improved the keeping qualities of the leaf. The fire dried the stem of the leaf more thoroughly, thus eliminating the major cause of spoilage when packed in the hogshead for shipment. August and September were the favorite months for cutting and curing because the tobacco would cure a brighter color if cured in hot weather. Even today farmers like to finish curing their tobacco as early in September as possible. However, it was usually cold weather before all of the crop could be cut and cured. Occasionally frost would kill part of the crop before it was ripe enough to cut. In the early years of the tobacco industry there was little to the stripping process as the leaves were hung on strings to cure. The string was removed and the leaves were twisted and wound into rolls. The leaves were twisted by hand or spun on a small spinning machine into a thick rope, from which a ball containing from one to thirty pounds was made, though some were known to weigh as much as 105 pounds. The rolls were either wrapped in heavy canvass or packed in small barrels for shipping. In 1614 four barrels containing 170 pounds each were sent to England on the _Sir Thomas_. Tobacco was also shipped loose or in small bundles known as hands, and by 1629 a considerable number of hogsheads were being used. There seems to have been little grading in the early days. London Company officials frequently complained of the bad tobacco being mixed with the good, and early inspection laws required that the tobacco be brought to central locations and the mean tobacco separated from the bulk. After cutting became the common practice the leaves were stripped from the stalk and assorted according to variety and grade. By the 1680's the lowest grade was known as lugs. Sweet-scented and Oronoco were usually exported separately, and usually only the sweet-scented was stemmed. If the two varieties were mixed in a hogshead, it was purchased at the prevailing Oronoco prices, which were less than those paid for sweet-scented. The English merchant claimed that he had to sell all of it as Oronoco unless it were separated and that the cost of the labor required to separate it was equal to the higher price the sweet-scented would bring. These two varieties were probably seldom mixed except perhaps to fill the last hogshead of the season. The planters eventually came to realize the value of handling tobacco with care, for when good tobacco land became less plentiful, other means of improving the quality of tobacco became necessary. By 1665 most of the tobacco was shipped in hogsheads, but it was not until 1730 that the shipment of bulk tobacco was prohibited. Nor were the hogsheads made to any standard size until 1657, at which time they were required to be 43" � 26". In 1695 the standard size was raised to 48" � 30", and this remained the standard size until the 1790's. In 1796 the legal size was increased to 54" � 34"; this remained the legal size until the 1820's. The weight of the hogshead increased from time to time. In 1657 a hogshead of tobacco weighed about 300 pounds, 600 in the 1660's, 800 by 1730, 950 by 1765, and around 1,000 in the 1790's. These were supposed to have been the standard or legal weights, but regulations were not strictly enforced. As early as 1757 some of the hogsheads weighed as much as 1,274 pounds. By 1800 hogsheads averaged about 1,100 pounds. VARIETIES A complete story on the origin of the early varieties of tobacco would be a very significant contribution, since very little is known about them. Most writers agree that the tobacco cultivated by the English settlers was not the same _Nicotiana rustica_ grown by the Indians, but _Nicotiana tabacum_, the type found growing in South America and the West Indies. The difference between these two types was profound, both in taste and size. The plant native to Virginia was small, growing to a height of only two or three feet, whereas _Nicotiana tabacum_ grew from six to nine feet tall. As to taste, George Arents remarked, "the same difference in taste exists between these two species, as between a crab apple and an Albemarle pippin." All during the colonial period tobacco was classified into two main varieties, Oronoco and sweet-scented. Oronoco had a large porous pointed leaf and was strong in taste. Sweet-scented was milder, the leaf was rounder and the fibers were finer. We are also told that sweet-scented grew mostly in the lower parts of Virginia, along the York and James rivers, and later on the Rappahannock and on the southside of the Potomac. Oronoco was generally planted up the Chesapeake Bay area and in the back settlements on the strong land along all the rivers. Oronoco is thought to have originated in the vicinity of the Orinoco River valley in Venezuela. After being brought to a different environment and climate in Virginia, various varieties or strains of Oronoco were developed or came about naturally. In the late 1600's a very fair and bright large Oronoco, Prior, and Kite's Foot were mentioned. As the years passed planters came to distinguish other varieties such as Hudson, Frederick, Thick-Joint, Shoe-string, Thickset, Blue Pryor, Medley Pryor, White Stem, Townsend, Long Green, Little Frederic, and Browne Oronoco. A type of tobacco referred to locally as "yellow", had been growing on the poor, thin, and sandy soils in and around Pittsylvania County, Virginia, and Caswell County, North Carolina since the early 1820's. It was just another one of the many local varieties and attracted little attention until a very lucky accident occurred in 1839. A Negro slave on the Slade farm in Caswell County, North Carolina, fell asleep while fire-curing tobacco. Upon awakening, he quickly piled some dry wood on the dying embers; the sudden drying heat from the revived fires produced a profound effect--this particular barn of tobacco cured a bright yellow. This accident produced a curing technique that soon became known throughout the surrounding area in Virginia and North Carolina. This tobacco became known as "Bright-Tobacco", and this area the "Bright-Tobacco Belt". The many variations were due to the different environments, cultural practices, methods of curing and breeding; and each of these variations was given a name because of some particular quality it possessed, or was given the name of a person or place. The difference in the composition of the "Bright-Tobacco" grown in the poor sandy soil, such as that found in Pittsylvania County, caused the tobacco to cure bright. This so-called new type of tobacco was of the old Virginia Oronoco and if grown on heavier soils, it produced a much heavier bodied tobacco and would not make the same response when flue-cured. Only the tobacco grown in the soils such as that in the "Bright-Tobacco Belt" cured bright, which indicates that it was the soil and not the variety that caused the tobacco to be bright when cured. The origin and development of sweet-scented tobacco remains somewhat of a mystery, and we can only make conjectures as to what happened. Some authorities hold that the present day Maryland tobacco is descended from the sweet-scented of the Colonial days, while others believe it to be a descendant of Oronoco. It seems quite possible that there was only one variety of _Nicotiana tabacum_ when John Rolfe first began his experiments, and there is reason to believe that this first tobacco was sweet-scented. The name Oronoco probably came after the name sweet-scented had already been established. It also appears that sweet-scented disappeared as soon as the soils along the James, York, Rappahannock, and Potomac rivers were exhausted. George Arents, probably the foremost authority on the history of tobacco, in referring to Rolfe's first shipment to England wrote, "So fragrant was the leaf that it almost at once began to be known as 'sweet-scented.'" Ralph Hamor, in 1614, declared that the colony grew tobacco equal to that of Trinidad, "sweet and pleasant." Jerome E. Brooks wrote that Rolfe's importation of tobacco seed resulted in the famous Virginia sweet-scented leaf. Once the cultivation began to spread into the areas away from the sandy loam along the James and York rivers, the type of soil necessary for the production of the sweet-scented, other varieties began to develop. In 1688 John Clayton wrote, "I have observed, that that which is called Pine-wood Land tho' it be a sandy soil, even the sweet-scented Tobacco that grows thereon, is large and porous, agreeable to Aranoko Tobacco; it smokes as coursely as Aranoko." While on his visit to Virginia, Clayton visited a poor, worn-out plantation along the James River. The owner, a widow, complained to him that her land would produce only four or five leaves of tobacco per plant. Clayton suggested that one of the bogs on the plantation be drained and planted in tobacco. A few years later Clayton happened to meet this same lady in London, selling the first crop of tobacco grown on the drained bog. She related to Clayton that the product was "so very large, that it was suspected to be of the Aranoko kind...." In 1724 Hugh Jones observed that the farther a person went northward from the York or southward from the James, the poorer the quality of the sweet-scented tobacco, "but this maybe (I believe) attributed in some Measure to the Seed and Management, as well as to the Land and Latitude." John Custis in a letter to Philip Perry in 1737 wrote that he grew Oronoco on the Eastern Shore of Virginia using the same seed as he did for his sweet-scented York crop. It appears that as the sandy loam necessary for the growing of sweet-scented tobacco became exhausted and the planters expanded into the heavy fertile soils, the tobacco became the strong, coarse Oronoco. As virgin soil became scarce, Oronoco was no longer confined to the richest soils, nor was it thought to be less sweet-scented than its rivals. Toward the end of the eighteenth century tobacco inspectors found it so difficult to distinguish the various types, that they classed all tobacco as Oronoco. Thus it seems quite possible that both Oronoco and sweet-scented were originally one variety which became two, primarily because of the different soil composition. TRANSPORTATION TO MARKET In the early days of the colony the small ocean-going merchant vessel was the only method of transportation essential to marketing the tobacco crop. Such a small ship was able to anchor at many of the plantation wharves and load its cargo of tobacco. Next to fertility, the proximity to navigable water was the most important factor in influencing the planter in the selection of a tract of land. However, later expansion of the tobacco industry into the interior and the increase in the size of all ocean-going ships made some mode of transportation within the colony a necessity. When the ships could not get directly up to the wharf or enter shallow creeks on which many of the plantations were located, small boats called flats or shallops were used to transport the hogsheads to the anchored vessels. In 1633 the General Assembly provided that all tobacco had to be brought to one of the five warehouses--to be erected in specified localities--to be stored until sold. The planters objected immediately and petitioned the House of Burgesses to allow ships to come into every county, "where they will find at every man's house a store convenient enough for theire ladinge, we beinge all seated by the Riverside." The planters also complained that they had "... noe other means to export but by Boatinge." Carrying the tobacco for long distances in the shallop involved a risk, as well as an additional expense. By rolling the hogsheads directly on board a ship anchored at his own wharf or only a few miles away the planter eliminated the danger involved in transporting his tobacco in an untrustworthy, heavily laden shallop, and he also saved the increase in freight charges for delivery to the ships by the seamen. Freight rates were the same from his wharf to England as they were from any other point in the colony. In 1697 Henry Hartwell remarked, "they [the merchants] are at the charge of carting this tobacco ... [collected from the planter,] to convenient Landinge; or if it lyes not far from these landings, they must trust to the Seamen for their careful rolling it on board of their sloops and shallops...." A second common mode of transportation, according to Philip A. Bruce, was "not to draw the cask over the ground by means of horses or oxen, like an enormous clod crusher, the custom of a later period, but to propel it by the application of a steady force from behind." In 1724 Hugh Jones wrote, "The tobacco is rolled, drawn by horses, or carted to convenient Rolling Houses, whence it is conveyed on board the ships in flats or sloops." Thus it appears that by 1700 the Tidewater planters had adopted three methods of transporting their tobacco to market or to points of exportation: by rolling the hogshead, by cart, and by boat. By the middle of the eighteenth century planters in the Piedmont were rolling their tobacco to the distant Tidewater markets, whereas the Tidewater planter usually hauled his tobacco by wagon. Rolling tobacco more than 100 miles was not out of the ordinary. The ingenious upland planters placed some extra hickory hoops around the hogshead, attached two hickory limbs for shafts, by driving pegs into the headings, and hitched a horse or oxen to it. This method worked quite well except that the tobacco was frequently damaged by the mud, water, or sand. To prevent this, the hogshead was raised off the ground by a device called a felly. This device consisted of segments of wood fitted together to form a circle resembling the rim of a cartwheel; these segments were fitted around the circumference of the hogshead. The hogsheads used for rolling in this manner were constructed much more substantially than those wagoned or transported by boat. For the river trade the Piedmont planter once again relied upon his ingenuity. Around 1740 a rather unique water carrier was perfected by the Reverend Robert Rose, then living in Albemarle County. Two canoes fifty or sixty feet long were lashed together with cords and eight or nine hogsheads of tobacco were rolled on their gunwales crossways for the trip to Richmond. This came to be known as the "Rose method." For the return trip the canoes were separated and two men with poles could travel twice the distance in a day as four good oarsmen could propel a boat capable of carrying the same burden. Before 1795 boats coming down the James River from the back country landed at Westham, located just above the falls, and the tobacco was then carried into Richmond by wagon. There is the story of one planter who forgot to land his canoes at Westham. It seems that he left his plantation on the upper James with a load of tobacco and a jug full of whiskey. By the time he reached Westham the planter had consumed too much of the whiskey, and forgot to land at Westham. He rode his canoes, tobacco and all, over the Falls. Shortly thereafter he was fished from the waters downstream, wet and frightened, but sober. By 1800, owing to the fact that both the planters and buyers had become more concerned about the quality of tobacco, rolling tobacco in hogsheads began to decline sharply, although fifty years later a rare roller might still be seen on his way to market. The rivers and canals provided the most typical means of transportation. Wagons were used primarily as feeders to and from inland waters. The Potomac, Rappahannock, and York rivers were valuable colonial arteries, but played a less significant role after the Piedmont became the major producing area. The James and the Roanoke superseded them as the major arteries of transportation in the nineteenth century. The "Rose method" of water transportation, the lashing of two canoes together, had practically disappeared on the upland waters by 1800, being replaced by a small open flat-bottomed boat called the bateau, which carried a load of from five to eight hogsheads. Two planters, N. C. Dawson and A. Rucker, both of Amherst County, patented a bateau, in the early 1800's, which was a great improvement over the earlier ones. This bateau was from forty-eight to fifty-four feet long, but very narrow in proportion to its length. It was claimed that with a crew of three men these new "James River Bateaux" could make the round trip from Lynchburg to Richmond in ten days. They floated down the stream with ease, but worked their way back upstream with poles. Shortly before the turn of the eighteenth century canals had been constructed around the falls from Westham to Richmond, and the upland boats were able to load and unload their cargoes at the wharves in Richmond. In 1810 it was estimated that about one-fourth of the entire Virginia tobacco crop came down the James River and through the Westham Canal into Richmond. There were land and water routes in the Roanoke Valley that led to Petersburg. Tobacco was taken all the way to Petersburg by wagon, or carried by boat from the upper Roanoke and its tributaries to the falls at Weldon, North Carolina, and from there to Petersburg by wagon. Owing to the tobacco trade coming down the Roanoke, Clarksville became a small market town. In the Farmville area many of the planters sent their tobacco down the Appomattox River to Petersburg, rather than overland by wagon. Soon after 1800 the Upper Canal Company built a canal that connected Petersburg with the navigable waters of the Appomattox River. Virginia's waterways served her transportation problem well until they were superseded by the railroads in the ante-bellum days. ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE INSPECTION SYSTEM Within a few years after Rolfe's successful experiment in the cultivation of tobacco, it became necessary to inaugurate some means of improving the quality of the Virginia tobacco. Once it was discovered that tobacco could be successfully and profitably grown in Virginia, everyone wanted to grow it. Blacksmiths, carpenters, shipwrights, and even the minister frequently grew a patch of tobacco. Owing to inexperience in farming of any kind, plus the fact that the commercial production of tobacco was new even to most of the experienced farmers, much of the tobacco produced was of a very low quality. For centuries many planters seem to have placed quantity above quality in growing tobacco. Anyone could grow tobacco in certain quantities, but only a few could produce tobacco of superior quality. The first general inspection law in Virginia was passed in 1619 and provided that all tobacco offered for exchange at the magazine, the general storehouse in Jamestown, found to be very "mean" in quality by the magazine custodian was to be burnt. The magazine was abolished in 1620 and in 1623 this law was amended to provide for the appointment of sworn men in each settlement to condemn all bad tobacco. In 1630 an act was passed prohibiting the sale or acceptance of inferior tobacco in payment of debts. The commander of each plantation or settlement was authorized to appoint two or three experienced and competent men to help him inspect all tobacco, offered in payment of debts, which had been found "mean" by the creditor. If the inspectors declared the tobacco mean, the inferior tobacco was burned and the delinquent planter was disbarred from planting tobacco. Only the General Assembly could remove this disability. Owing to complaints that the commanders were showing partiality to planters on their own plantations, the act was amended in 1632; the commander's power of inspection was removed and his duty was limited to appointing two inspectors and making the final report. The appointment of inspectors was made compulsory in case of a complaint. The following year (1633) a more comprehensive measure was enacted. It provided that all inspections were to be made at five different points in the colony: James City, Shirley Hundred Island, Denbigh, Southampton River in Elizabeth City, and Cheskiack. Storehouses were to be built at these places and all tobacco was to be brought to these storehouses before the last day of December of each year. At these storehouses the tobacco was to be carefully inspected and all of the bad tobacco separated from the good and burned. This duty was to be performed once each week by inspectors under oath, one of whom was to be a member of the Council. All tobacco found in the barns of the planters after December 31 was to be confiscated, unless reserved for family use. All of those planning to keep tobacco for that purpose were required to swear to this fact before the proper officials before December 31. All debts were to be paid at one of these five storehouses, with the storekeeper as a witness. Before the end of the year (1633) two other such storehouses were authorized to be built,--one at Warrasquoke and the other at a point lying between Weyanoke and the Falls. In addition to the Councillors, members of the local courts were added as inspectors. The provision requiring the burning of unmerchantable tobacco may have been enforced, but the storehouses were never built. In 1639 all of the mean tobacco and half of the good was ordered destroyed. The legislature passed an act providing for the appointment of 213 inspectors, three were assigned to each district. These inspectors were authorized to break down the doors of any building if they had reason to believe that tobacco was being concealed within. This act was designed primarily to restrict the quantity of tobacco to be marketed owing to the flooded markets abroad and the resulting low prices. All of the inspection laws passed after 1632 were formally repealed in 1641. The only important inspection law left on the statute books was the one passed in 1630 requiring the plantation commander, who was later replaced by the county lieutenant, to appoint two or three inspectors to inspect tobacco sold or received in payment of a debt, upon complaint of the buyer or creditor that he had been passed some bad tobacco. The law remained on the books until 1730. After these early attempts to establish an effective inspection system, little further progress was made during the seventeenth century. Occasional acts aimed at controlling the quantity and quality of tobacco continued to be passed from time to time; such as laws prohibiting the tending of seconds, false packing, and planting or replanting tobacco after a certain date. As the tobacco industry continued to expand into the interior, the need and the difficulty of regulating the quality of the leaf increased. Owing to ignorance or indifference, the frontier planters seldom resorted to methods of improving the quality of the crop. They traded their tobacco in small lots with the outport merchants, those from ports other than London, mostly Scottish, who sold the inferior tobacco to the countries in northern Europe. In 1705 the Council proposed that an experienced and competent person be appointed in each county to inspect and receive all tobacco for discharge of debts in that county at specifically named storehouses and "at no other place." These county agents were to meet and select proper locations for building the storehouses. Owners of the land sites selected were to be given the privilege of building and renting these storehouses. If the owner did not choose to build, he could rent the land site to the county agent that he might build on it. If both refused to build, it was proposed that the county court should buy the land and erect the storehouse. Storehouses were already established on many of the land sites proposed. In 1680, to accelerate the growth of towns, the General Assembly had passed an act providing that fifty acres of land be laid out for towns at convenient landings and that storehouses be built in each, at which all goods imported had to be landed and all exports stored while awaiting transportation. The towns and storehouses were located in the following places in twenty counties: Accomac, Calvert's Neck; Charles City, Flower de Hundred; Elizabeth City, Hampton; Gloucester, Tindall's Point; Henrico, Varina; Isle of Wight, Pates Field on Pagan Creek; James City, James City; Lancaster, Corotomond River; Middlesex, Urbanna Creek; Nansemond, Dues Point; New Kent, Brick House; Norfolk, on the Elizabeth River at the mouth of the Eastern River; Northampton, Kings Creek; Northumberland, Chickacony; Essex, Hobb's Hole; Stafford, Pease Point, at the mouth of Deep Creek; Westmoreland, Nominie; and York, Ship Honors Store. Though none of the proposals were passed by the General Assembly in 1705, they were incorporated into later legislation and provided the basis for an effective inspection system. In 1712 the General Assembly once again decided it would be advantageous to have designated places in each county where tobacco and other products could be kept safe while waiting for transportation to England, and an act was passed providing that all houses already built and being used as public "rolling-houses", that is warehouses, within one mile of a public landing, be maintained by their respective owners. If there were no such warehouses at designated locations, the county courts were given the authority to order new ones built. If the owner of the site refused to build, the county could, after a fair appraisal, buy the land and build a warehouse at public expense. When and if the warehouse was discontinued, the land reverted to the original owner or his heirs. It is interesting to know that the warehouse built at Urbanna, in Middlesex County, in 1680, is still standing, and it is "America's only colonial built warehouse for tobacco still in existence". The owners were compelled to receive all goods offered, and were to receive storage rates for these services. For goods stored in casks of sixty gallons in size, or bales or parcels of greater bulk, the owners of the storehouses received twelve pence for the first day or the first three months and six pence for every three months thereafter. The owner of the warehouse was made liable for merchandise lost or damaged while under his custody. One of the most significant features of the 1730 inspection system was first introduced in 1713. Primarily through the efforts of Governor Spotswood, an act was passed providing for licensed inspectors at the various warehouses already established. To provide a convenient circulating medium, and one that would not meet with opposition from the English government, these inspectors were authorized to issue negotiable receipts for tobacco inspected and stored at these warehouses. Like many new and untried ideas, this law seemed somewhat radical and met a great deal of opposition. With Colonel William Byrd as their leader, the opposition was able to convince certain British officials that the added expense required by the act imposed an undue hardship on the tobacco trade. This local opposition combined with the pressure of the conservative London merchants caused the act to be vetoed by the Privy Council in 1716. The act of 1712, providing for the regulation of public warehouses, remained in force and became a part of the rather effective inspection system established in 1730. The act was amended in 1720 giving the county courts the authority to order warehouses inconvenient to the landings discontinued. These two pieces of legislation brought all of the public warehouses near convenient landings and made the warehouse movement flexible. From this point on, as the tobacco industry shifted from one area to another, the warehouse movement kept pace. From time to time established warehouses were ordered discontinued, or new ones erected; and occasionally warehouses ordered discontinued were revived. However, it appears that inspection warehouses were not permitted above the Fall Line until after the Revolution. In 1730 the most comprehensive inspection bill ever introduced, passed the General Assembly. The common knowledge that the past and present inspection laws had failed to prevent the importation of unmarketable tobacco, plus a long depression, had changed the attitude of many of the influential planters and merchants. Nevertheless, the act did meet with opposition from some of the English customs officials and a few of the large planters. Soon after the passage of this new inspection law a prominent planter wrote complainingly to a London merchant, "This Tobo hath passed the Inspection of our new law, every hogshead was cased and viewed by which means the tobacco was very much tumbled and made something less sightly than it was before and it causes a great deal of extraordinary trouble". There were complaints that the new law destroyed tobacco that used to bring good money. Still another planter complained that the planter's name and evidence on the hogshead had much more effect on the price of the tobacco than the inspector's brand. While some of the planters expressed their disapproval of the new inspection law verbally, others resorted to violence. During the first year some villains burned two inspection houses, one in Lancaster County and another in Northumberland. The inspection law passed in 1730 was frequently amended during the colonial period, but there were no changes in its essential features. The act provided that no tobacco was to be shipped except in hogsheads, cases, or casks, without having first passed an inspection at one of the legally established inspection warehouses; thus the shipment of bulk tobacco was prohibited. Two inspectors were employed at each warehouse, and a third was summoned in case of a dispute between the two regular inspectors. These officials were bonded and were forbidden under heavy penalties to pass bad tobacco, engage in the tobacco trade, or to take rewards. Tobacco offered in payment of debts, public or private, had to be inspected under the same conditions as that to be exported. The inspectors were required to open the hogshead, extract and carefully examine two samplings; all trash and unsound tobacco was to be burned in the warehouse kiln in the presence and with the consent of the owner. If the owner refused consent the entire hogshead was to be destroyed. After the tobacco was sorted, the good tobacco was repacked in the hogshead and the planter's distinguishing mark, net weight, tare (weight of the hogshead), and name of inspection warehouse were stamped on the hogshead. A tobacco note was issued to the owner of each hogshead that passed the inspection. These notes were legal tender within the county issued, and adjacent counties, except when the counties were separated by a large river. They circulated freely and eventually came into the possession of a buyer who, by presenting them at the warehouse named on the notes, exchanged them for the specified amount of tobacco. And these particular notes were thus retired from circulation. The person finally demanding possession of the tobacco was allowed to have the hogsheads reinspected if he so desired. If he was dissatisfied with the quality, he could appeal to three justices of the peace. If they found the tobacco to be unsound or trashy, the inspectors paid a fee of five shillings to each of the justices, and they were also held liable for stamping the tobacco as being good; should the tobacco be declared sound, the buyer paid the fee. Parcels of tobacco weighing less than 200 pounds in 1730, later increased to 350, and finally 950 pounds, were not to be exported, in such cases the inspectors issued transfer notes. When the purchaser of such tobacco had enough to fill a hogshead, the tobacco was prized and the transfer notes were exchanged for a tobacco note. The tobacco could then be exported. Such small parcels were often necessary to pay a levy, or a creditor, or it might have been tobacco left over from the crop after the last hogshead had been filled and prized. These tobacco notes provided the only currency in Virginia until she resorted to the printing press during the French and Indian War. By the end of the eighteenth century the reputation of the inspectors and the value of the tobacco notes began to decline, due primarily to lax inspecting. Exporters and manufacturers frequently demanded that their tobacco be reinspected by competent agents. The inspection law was allowed to expire in October, 1775, but it was revived the following October. During this period the payment of debts in tobacco was made on the plantation of the debtor, and if the creditor refused to accept the tobacco as sound and marketable, the dispute was referred to two competent neighbors, one chosen by each of the disputants. Prior to 1776 tobacco that was damaged while stored in the public warehouses was paid for by the colony, but provisions were made in 1776 that such a loss was to be borne by the owner of the tobacco. In 1778 this was amended to the effect that losses by fire while stored in the warehouses would be paid for by the state. Four years later, owing to the great losses that had been sustained by the owners of the tobacco, the inspectors were held liable for all tobacco destroyed or damaged, except by fire, flood, or the enemy. The state continued to guarantee the tobacco against the fire hazard until well into the nineteenth century. The law requiring "refused" tobacco to be burned in the warehouse kiln was repealed in 1805, and such tobacco could then be shipped anywhere within the state of Virginia. Stemmers or manufacturers were required to send a certificate of receipt of such refused tobacco purchased to the auditor of public accounts in Richmond. These receipts were then checked against the warehouse records of the amount of refused tobacco sold. Finally, in 1826, the General Assembly legalized the exportation of refused tobacco, provided the word "refused" was stamped on both ends and two sides of the hogsheads in letters at least three inches in length. In 1730 three inspectors were appointed for each inspection by the governor, with the advice and consent of the Council. This did not always mean that there were three inspectors at each warehouse at all times. Warehouses built on opposite banks of a creek or river were frequently placed under the same inspection; that is, the three inspectors divided their time at the two warehouses. In areas where the production of tobacco declined from time to time, two warehouses were frequently placed under the jurisdiction of one set of inspectors. And if the quantity of tobacco produced in that particular area necessitated separate inspections, the change was then made. The inspection system was very flexible in this respect. The inspectors were required to be on duty from October 1 to August 10 yearly, except Sundays and holidays. By 1732 it was discovered that it was unnecessary to have three inspectors on duty at all times. Consequently, the number of regular inspectors was reduced to two, but a third was appointed to be called upon when there was a dispute between the two regular inspectors as to the quality of tobacco. As the governor was able to choose the inspectors and place them at any warehouse within the colony, the local county people began to complain and demand that they be given more authority in this governmental function. This procedure tended to provide the governor with the opportunity to provide his friends with jobs regardless of their qualifications. In 1738 the General Assembly enacted legislation providing that the inspectors were to be appointed by the governor from a slate of four candidates nominated by the local county courts. Where two warehouses under one inspection were in different counties, two candidates were to be nominated by each county. This procedure remained unchanged until the middle of the nineteenth century. The salaries of the inspectors were regulated by the General Assembly, though the colony did not guarantee the sums after 1755. For the first few years each inspector received £60 annually, and if the fees collected were insufficient to pay their salary, the deficient amount was made up out of public funds. After 1732 it was found that this amount was too high and unequally allocated with respect to the amount of individual services performed, as some warehouses received more tobacco than others. So for the next few years salaries were determined on the basis of the amount of tobacco inspected and ranged from £30 to £50 annually. From 1755 to 1758 the inspectors received the amount set by the legislature only if enough fees were collected by the inspectors at their respective warehouses. During the next seven years the inspectors received three shillings per hogshead, plus six pence for nails used in recoopering the tobacco, instead of a stated salary. Out of this the inspectors had to pay the proprietors of the warehouse eight pence rent per hogshead. In 1765 the inspectors were again placed on a flat salary basis, and for the next fifteen years their salaries ranged from £25 to £70. After 1780 their annual salaries ranged from about $100 at the smallest warehouses to about $330 at the largest. WAREHOUSES 1730-1800 In most instances the warehouses were private property, but they were always subject to the control of the legislature. Regulations regarding the location, erection, maintenance and operation as official places of inspection were set forth by special legislation. Owners of the land sites selected were ordered to build the warehouses and rent them to the inspectors. If the land owner refused to build, then the court could order the warehouse built at public expense. Just how many warehouses were built at public expense is difficult to determine, probably only a few, if any, were built in this manner. The rent which the proprietor received usually depended upon the number of hogsheads inspected at his warehouse, though the rates were regulated by the General Assembly. In 1712 the proprietors received twelve pence for the first day or the first three months and six pence every month thereafter per hogshead. In 1755 the owners received eight pence per hogshead. During the Revolution the rate was raised to four shillings, but was lowered to one shilling six pence after the cessation of hostilities. At the beginning of the nineteenth century rent per hogshead, including a year's storage, was twenty-five cents. To keep pace with the movement of the tobacco industry, new warehouses were built and others discontinued from time to time. And by observing the warehouse movement it is possible to grasp a general picture of the decline of the tobacco industry in Tidewater Virginia. The expansion of the industry into Piedmont is more difficult to follow during this period owing to the fact that inspection houses were not permitted above the Falls until after the Revolution. In 1730 seventy-two warehouses located in thirty counties were ordered erected and maintained for the purpose of inspection and storage by the General Assembly. Twelve years later warehouses were erected in only one additional county, Fairfax. A few of those established in 1730 were discontinued, but twenty-six new ones had been erected by 1742, making a total of ninety-three in operation at that time. From 1742 to 1765 the total number of inspection houses increased by about six, but this does not reveal a complete picture of the warehouse movement. A closer examination shows a much greater shift in the movement. Sixteen new inspection warehouses were erected during this period, twelve of them near the Fall Line; in the meantime, ten of the old established warehouses far below the Falls were discontinued. After a year without an official inspection system the lapsed inspection law was revived in October, 1776; seventy-six of the warehouses were re-established as official inspection stations. Soon after the end of the war the number of inspections began to increase again, and it was chiefly through the efforts of a David Ross that inspection warehouses were permitted above the Falls. The first inspections seem to have appeared above the Falls in Virginia in 1785: one at Crow's Ferry, Botetourt County; one at Lynch's Ferry, Campbell County; and a third at Point of Fork on the Rivanna River, Fluvanna County. Tobacco inspected in the warehouses above the Falls could not be legally delivered for exportation without first being delivered to a lower warehouse for transportation and reinspection upon demand by the purchaser. There were a number of reasons why the inspection warehouses were restricted to Tidewater Virginia until after the Revolution. It was not until after the Revolution that a strong need and demand for them was felt above the Falls. Inadequate transportation facilities in the interior made exportation from upland inspections less feasible. It is also probable that the Legislature was opposed to upland inspections as it would be more difficult to control the inspections, spread out over a larger area, as rigidly as those concentrated in a smaller area. And no doubt Tidewater Virginia recognized the economic value of having all of the inspections located in its own section. However, the sharp decline in tobacco production in the Tidewater followed by an equal increase in the Piedmont made inspections above the Falls inevitable. Of the ninety-three inspection warehouses in operation in 1792, only about twenty were above the Fall Line; but by 1820 at least half of the 137 legal inspections were above the Falls. Of the forty-two new inspections established in the period 1800-1820 only three were in Tidewater Virginia; one in Prince George County in 1807, one in Essex County in 1810, and the third in Norfolk County in 1818, owing to the opening of the Dismal Swamp Canal. SALE OF THE LEAF Under the original plan of colonization the Virginia settlers were to pool their goods at the magazine, the general storehouse in Jamestown. All of the products produced by the settlers, and all goods imported into the colony were to be first brought to the magazine. In 1620 the London Company made plans to abolish the magazine and open the trade to the public. The colony was then forced to rely on peripatetic merchant ships which came irregularly. These casual traders dealt directly with the planters, going about from plantation to plantation collecting their cargo. These merchants were without agents in the colonies, and they relied solely upon the chance of selling their goods as they passed the various plantation wharves. They usually sold their goods on credit, expecting to collect their dues in tobacco on the return trip the next year. Occasionally the crops were small, or they discovered that most of the tobacco had been sold or seized by other traders, and consequently they were forced to wait another year to collect from their debtors. The planter soon discovered that he was in an equally precarious situation, and largely at the mercy of the merchant, for if he failed to sell on the terms offered, another ship might not come his way until the following year. The planter's bargaining power was also hampered by his ignorance of market conditions abroad. Such conditions encouraged the practices of engrossing and forestalling, by the merchants, to the point that much legislation was passed to prohibit such actions. Increasing competition by the Dutch traders gradually reduced the dependence of the planter on the casual trading merchant. The danger from pirates and frequent wars caused the English to inaugurate the convoy system, which also helped improve the market conditions. However, trading directly with the casual merchants was still common after 1625, and a few still operated as late as 1700. The consignment system developed along with the system of casual trading, and it also operated upon the practice of the ships collecting cargo from the various plantations. Importation was based on the same idea: the ship which gathered the planters' tobacco usually brought goods from abroad. Originally the merchant acted only as the agent of the planter. He advanced him the total cost necessary to export and market the crop abroad, sold the crop on his client's account and placed the net proceeds to the planter's credit. Soon the merchant was advancing the planter goods and money beyond the amount of his net receipts; the planter frequently discovered that he was at the merchant's mercy and was forced to sell on the merchant's terms. To make matters worse, the tobacco was sold by the merchants to retailers in England on long term credit at the planter's risk. If the retailer went bankrupt, or his business failed, the planter not only lost his tobacco but still had to pay the total charges, freight, insurance, British duties, plus the agent's commission, which amounted to about eighteen pounds sterling in 1730. Planters frequently complained that their tobacco weighed much less in England that it did when it was inspected and weighed in the colony. There were reports that the stevedores were supplying certain patrons in England with tobacco of superior quality obtained by pilfering. An agent in England was certainly not apt to look after a planter's crop as though it were his own. The gradual destruction of the fertility of the soil in the Tidewater country and the expansion of the tobacco industry into the back country made direct consignment less feasible. This, and the various other causes of dissatisfaction with the consignment system, led to the system of outright purchase in the colony. This new procedure was carried on largely by the outport merchants, especially the Scottish, who were doing quite a bit of illicit trading before the Union of 1707. Since the Tidewater business was controlled largely by the London merchants, the new Scottish traders penetrated the interior and established local trading posts or stores at convenient locations, many of which became the nuclei of towns. After the Union their share of the trade increased very rapidly, and at the beginning of hostilities in 1775 the Scots were purchasing almost one-half of all the tobacco brought to Great Britain. On the eve of the Revolution only about one-fourth of the Virginia tobacco was being shipped on consignment. The factorage system appears to have been introduced in Virginia around 1625, and was actually a part of the consignment system. A factor was one who resided in the colony and served as a representative and the repository of the English merchant. With the establishment of a repository in the colony, trade became more regular, debtors less delinquent, and the problem of securing transportation for exports or imports was mitigated. Some of the factors were Englishmen sent over by the English firms, others were colonial merchants or planters who performed for the foreign firms on a commission basis. As the tobacco industry expanded beyond the limits of the navigable waters, it became the custom of the planters located near such streams to act as factors for their neighbors in the interior. By 1775 the factorage system had developed to the extent that one planter found four firms at Colchester, eleven at Dumfries, and twenty at Alexandria which would buy wheat, tobacco, and flour in exchange for British goods and northern manufactures. The rise of a class of factors in Virginia, aided by the Scottish merchants, made it possible for the planters to break away from the London commercial agents. The Revolution cut the connection between England and the Virginia planters, but the factorage system was not destroyed. The merchants and businessmen in the former colonies simply replaced the English factors. Soon after the cessation of hostilities, England had reestablished her commercial predominance owing to the superior facilities and experience of British merchants in granting long term credits, and perhaps the preference of Americans for British goods. The British were again willing to extend to the planters the accustomed long term credits, but they were careful to grant it only to merchants of high standing. Lax inspecting caused the buyers to lose faith in the inspectors' reputation and guarantee. As early as 1759 tobacco was being sold by displaying samples. It was quite natural then for the buyers to begin visiting the warehouses as the tobacco was being inspected, to enable them to purchase the better hogsheads directly from the original owner. But it seems that even as late as 1800 such practices were only occasional. While lax inspections caused a few buyers to visit the warehouses, the presence of these buyers led many of the planters to bring their tobacco to the warehouses most frequented by the buyers. As these buyers paid higher prices for the better tobacco, the ultimate result was the development of market towns and the disappearance of the tobacco note. Within a decade after the turn of the nineteenth century Richmond, Manchester, Petersburg, and Lynchburg had become major market towns. PRODUCTION, TREND OF PRICES, AND EXPORTS When tobacco was first planted in Jamestown, Spanish tobacco was selling for eighteen shillings per pound. Virginia tobacco was inferior in quality, but it was assessed in England at ten shillings per pound. On the basis of these high prices the Virginia Company of London agreed to allow the Virginia planters three shillings per pound, in trade at the magazine in Jamestown, for the best grades. Even though it seemed that the London Company was getting the lions share, these prices proved to be very profitable for the colonists and the infant tobacco industry increased very rapidly. During the period 1615-1622 tobacco exports increased from 2,300 to 60,000 pounds, and by 1630 the volume had risen to 1,500,000. Meanwhile prices had fallen as rapidly as production and exports had increased. In 1625 tobacco was selling for about two shillings per pound, but in 1630 merchants were reported to be buying it for less than one penny per pound. It was quite obvious that the fall in prices was due to overproduction. The English first attempted to alleviate the condition in 1619 through monopolistic control. Negotiations were conducted with the Virginia Company of London, Henry Somerscales, and Ditchfield in 1625. All were opposed by the colony, except that of the London Company, because the colonists thought that the various proposals would benefit the King and a small group of court favorites at the expense of the planters. The next move was made by the colony. In an attempt to restrict the production of tobacco, Governor Wyatt ordered that production be limited to 1,000 plants per person in each family in 1621. These same instructions provided that only nine leaves were to be harvested from each plant. Similar laws were enacted in 1622 and again in 1629, but these laws were probably not strictly enforced as prices failed to improve. Undaunted by failure in its first attempt to cope with the situation, the General Assembly made several attempts at price fixing. In 1632 tobacco prices in the colony were fixed at six pence per pound in exchange for English goods; in 1633 it was increased to nine pence. The 1639 crop was so large that the legislature ordered all of the bad and half of the good tobacco destroyed; merchants were required to accept fifty pounds of tobacco per 100 of indebtedness. English goods were to be exchanged for tobacco at a minimum rate of three pence per pound. The minimum rate of the 1640 crop was fixed at twelve pence. Such legislation failed to meet with the approval of the home government and in 1641 tobacco averaged about two pence per pound. Following the depression of 1639 tobacco prices failed to rise above three pence, and probably never averaged more than two pence per pound for the next sixty years. To prevent the complete ruination of the tobacco planters, the General Assembly established fixed rates for tobacco in the payment of certain fees. In 1645 these fees were payable in tobacco rated at one and one-half pence per pound; ten years later the rate had increased only a half pence. The war with Holland, restrictions on the Dutch trade, and the plague in England brought forth another serious depression in the colonies in the 1660's. In 1665 the tobacco fleet did not go to the colonies on account of the plague in London. Tobacco prices dropped to one pence per pound. [Illustration: METHODS OF TRANSPORTING TOBACCO TO MARKET a, Upon canoes. b, By upland boats. c, By wagons. d, Rolling the hogshead.] [Illustration: PLANTATION TOBACCO HOUSES AND PUBLIC WAREHOUSES a, The common tobacco house. b, Tobacco hanging on a scaffold. c, The operation of prizing. d, Inside of a tobacco house, showing the tobacco hanging to cure. e, An outside view of a public warehouse. f, showing the process of inspection.] This new depression stirred the Virginia legislature. In 1662 the Assembly prohibited the planting of tobacco after the last of June, provided that Maryland would do the same. Maryland rejected the idea. This would have eliminated a great deal of inferior tobacco, for much of the tobacco planted in July seldom fully matures before it must be harvested to save it from the frost. The planters in both colonies continued to produce excessive crops and the depression became more acute. Led by Virginia, the North Carolina and Maryland legislatures prohibited the cultivation of tobacco in 1666. Lord Baltimore again refused to permit a cessation in Maryland, consequently Virginia and North Carolina repealed their legislation. Instead of cessation the Virginia crop was so large in 1666 that 100 vessels were not enough to export the crop. The possibility of another enormous crop in 1667 was eliminated by a severe storm that destroyed two-thirds of the crop. However, the glutted market resulting from the large crop grown in 1666 caused prices to fall to a half pence per pound. In the 1670's prices climbed to one and one-half pence, but a tremendous crop in 1680 glutted the market again. The crop was said to have been so large that it would have supplied the demand for the next two years, even if none were produced in 1681. The General Assembly once again came to the aid of the planter by rating tobacco in payment of debts at one and one-fifth pence in 1682, and two pence in payment of quit-rents in 1683. Once again Virginia renewed attempts to bring about a cessation of production, but the English government refused to permit such action claiming that it would stimulate foreign production and thereby reduce the revenue to the Crown. In April, 1682 the General Assembly convened but was prorogued by Lieutenant Governor Sir Henry Chicheley a week later, when it was apparent that the members were determined to discuss nothing but the cessation of tobacco. A week later a series of plant cuttings broke out in Gloucester County followed by others in New Kent and Middlesex counties. Approximately 10,000 hogsheads of tobacco were destroyed before these riots were put down by the militia. Probably as a result of this destructive act, prices rose to two and a half pence in 1685, but a bumper crop of over 18,000,000 pounds in 1688, the largest ever produced to that date, caused prices to drop to one penny per pound in 1690. Throughout most of the seventeenth century the tobacco planters were plagued with the problem of overproduction and low prices. To add to their woes the entire eighteenth century was one of periodic wars either in Europe or in America, or both. King William's War ended in 1697 and the following year tobacco prices soared to twenty shillings per hundred pounds and prices remained good for the next few years. The outbreak of Queen Anne's War and another 18,000,000 pound crop ushered in another depression. Several thousand hogsheads of tobacco shipped on consignment in 1704 brought no return at all, and the next year many of the planters sold their tobacco for one-fourth of a penny per pound. Instead of attempting to limit production in an effort to relieve the market conditions, these low prices caused the planters to increase production as they attempted to meet their obligations. In 1709 tobacco production reached an all-time high of 29,000,000 pounds. The Peace of Utrecht in 1713 seems to have brought little relief. Tobacco prices failed to improve until after the passage of the inspection act in 1730. In 1731 tobacco sold for as much as twelve shillings six pence per hundred pounds, despite the fact that Virginia exported 34,000,000 pounds. In a further attempt to improve the quality and the price of tobacco the General Assembly ordered the constables in each district to enforce the law forbidding the planters to harvest suckers. Anyone found tending suckers after the last of July was to be heavily penalized. These two measures seem to have produced the desired effects; in 1736 tobacco sold for fifteen shillings per hundred pounds. Unlike Queen Anne's War, King George's War seemed to stimulate tobacco prices and they remained relatively good for a number of years after the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748. During the early 1750's merchants paid up to twenty shillings per hundred pounds, even though Virginia had been exporting from 38,000,000 to 53,000,000 pounds annually. During the French and Indian War the belligerents agreed to continue the tobacco trade, but in spite of this arrangement there were unusual price fluctuations owing primarily to inflation and occasional poor crops. In 1755 a period of inflation was created when Virginia resorted to the printing press for currency. At the same time war operations hampered production and only about one-half of the usual annual crop was produced, and tobacco prices rose to twenty shillings per hundred weight. During the years of peace just prior to the American Revolution, tobacco averaged about three pence per pound and never fell below two pence. With the outbreak of hostilities the General Assembly prohibited the exportation of tobacco to the British Empire. Frequent overproduction and the numerous wars during the eighteenth century seem to have caused more violent price fluctuations than those of the previous century. Although the American colonies did not participate in all of the wars involving England, all of them had their effects upon the colonies. Virginia depended primarily upon England to transport her tobacco crop and during the war years there was a frequent shortage of ships used for the tobacco trade. As this cut off the tobacco supply to the foreign markets, many of them began to grow their supply of tobacco. The tobacco crops were small almost every year during the Revolution. Owing to the increase in the demand for foodstuffs many of the planters switched from tobacco to wheat. During the first year of the war tobacco exports dropped from 55,000,000 to 14,500,000 pounds. It has been said that for the entire period 1776-1782 Virginia's exports were less than her exports of a single year before the Revolution. Wartime prices and inflation caused tobacco prices to increase from eighteen shillings per hundred pounds in 1775 to 2,000 shillings, in Continental currency, in 1781. An official account in the latter part of 1780 related that twenty-five shillings per hundred pounds in specie was considered a very substantial price. A very small crop in 1782 was followed by one that topped any of the pre-war crops, and by 1787 prices had fallen to fifteen pence per pound. Prices dropped to $12.00 in 1791, and a period of relatively low prices continued until 1797 when prices increased as a result of an extensive shift from tobacco to wheat. In 1800 prices dropped to $7.40 per hundred pounds as Virginia exported a near record crop of over 78,000 hogsheads of tobacco. VIRGINIA TOBACCO PRICES AND EXPORTS, 1615-1789 A complete and accurate price table would be virtually impossible to compile. Some of these averages represent only single individual quotations, or the average of only two or three such quotations. These charts are intended to give the reader a general picture of the prices during the Colonial period. Year Average Price Average Price Pounds Exported per Lb. per Cwt. 1615 3s 2,300 1617 3s 20,000 1618 3s 41,000 1619 3s 44,879 1620 2s 6d 40,000 1621 3s 55,000 1622 3s 60,000 1623 2s 1625 2s 4d 1626 3s 500,000 1628 3s 6d 500,000 1629 1,500,000 1630 1d 1,500,000 1631 6d 1,300,000 1632 6d 1633 9d 1634 1d 1637 9d 1638 2d 1639 3d 1,500,000 1640 12d 1,300,000 1641 2d 1,300,000 1642 2d 1644 1-1/2d 1645 1-1/2d 1649 3d 1651 16s 1652 20s 1655 2d 1656 2d 1657 3d 1658 2d 1659 2d 1660 2d 1661 2d 1662 2d 1664 1-1/2d 1665 1d 1666 1-1/5d 1667 1/2d 1669 20s 1676 1-1/2d 1682 1-1/5d 1683 2d 1684 1/2d 1685 2-1/2d 1686 1-1/5d 1688 18,295,000 1690 1d 1691 2d 1692 1d 1695 1-1/2d 1696 1-1/5d 1697 1/2d 22,000,000 1698 20s 22,000,000 1699 20s 22,000,000 1700 10s average 1701 average 1702 20s 1704 2d 18,000,000 1706 1/4d 1709 1d 29,000,000 1710 1d 1713 3s 1715 2s 1716 11s 1720 1d 1722 3/4d 1723 1d 1724 1-1/2d 1727 9d 1729 10d 1731 12s 6d 34,000,000 1732 9d 34,000,000 1733 2d 34,000,000 1736 2d 34,000,000 1737 9d average 1738 3d average 1739 2d average 1740 34,000,000 1744 2d 47,000,000 1745 14s 38,232,900 1746 2d 36,217,800 1747 37,623,600 1748 16s 8d 42,104,700 1749 2d 43,880,300 1750 15s 43,710,300 1751 16s 43,032,700 1752 2d 43,542,000 1753 20s 53,862,300 1754 45,722,700 1755 2d 42,918,300 1756 20s 25,606,800 1757 3d 1758 3d 22,050,000 1759 35s 55,000,000 1760 55,000,000 1761 22s 6d 55,000,000 1762 11d 55,000,000 1763 2d 55,000,000 1764 12s 6d 55,000,000 1765 3d 55,000,000 1766 4s average 1767 3s 10d average 1768 22s 6d average 1769 23s average 1770 25s average 1771 18s average 1772 20s average 1773 12s 6d average 1774 13s average 1775 3-1/4d 55,000,000 1776 12s 14,498,500 1777 34s 12,441,214 1778 70s 11,961,333 1779 400s 17,155,907 1780 1,000s 17,424,967 1781 2,000s 13,339,168 1782 36s 9,828,244 1783 40s 86,649,333 1784 30s 10d 49,497,000 1785 30s 55,624,000 1786 19d 60,380,000 1787 15d 60,041,000 1788 25s 58,544,000 1789 15d 58,673,000 CONCLUSION The history of tobacco is the history of Jamestown and of Virginia. No one staple or resource ever played a more significant role in the history of any state or nation. The growth of the Virginia Colony, as it extended beyond the limits of Jamestown, was governed and hastened by the quest for additional virgin soil in which to grow this "golden weed." For years the extension into the interior meant the expansion of tobacco production. Without tobacco the development of Virginia might have been retarded 200 years. Tobacco was the life and soul of the colony; yet a primitive, but significant, form of diversified farming existed from the very beginning especially among the small farmers. Even with the development of the large plantations in the eighteenth century, there were quite a number of small landowners interspersed among the big planters in the Tidewater area, and they were most numerous in the Piedmont section. They usually possessed few slaves, if any, and raised mostly grains, vegetables and stock which they could easily sell to neighboring tobacco planters. The negligible food imports by the colony indicates that a regular system of farming existed. Nor was tobacco the sole product of the large tobacco plantations. This is indicated by the fact that practically all of the accounts of the product of one man's labor were recorded as so many pounds or acres of tobacco plus provisions. And had the plantations not been generally self-sufficient, the frequently extremely low prevailing tobacco prices would have made the agricultural economy even less profitable. Tobacco was a completely new agricultural product to most, if not all, of the English settlers at Jamestown. There were no centuries of vast experience in growing, curing, and marketing to draw upon. These problems and procedures were worked out by trial and error in the wilderness of Virginia. Tobacco became the only dependable export and the colony was exploited for the benefit of English commerce. This English commercial policy, plus other factors, caused the Virginia planter to become somewhat of an agricultural spendthrift. For nearly 200 years he followed a system of farming which soon exhausted his land. Land was cheap and means of fertilization was limited and laborious. By clearing away the trees he was able to move north, south, southwest, and west and replace his worn-out fields with rich virgin soil necessary to grow the best tobacco. While struggling with the problems involved in producing an entirely new crop about which they knew little or nothing, the colonists also had to feed themselves, deal with their racial problems, and maintain a stable local government as they continually expanded in a limitless wilderness. Out of all this chaos grew the mother and leader of the American colonies. Tobacco penetrated the social, political, and economic life of the colony. Ownership of a large tobacco plantation could take one up the social ladder; many of the men responsible for the welfare of the colony were planters, and everything could be paid for in tobacco. In 1620 the indentured servants were paid for with tobacco, the young women sent to the colonists to become wives were purchased by paying their transportation charges with tobacco. The wages of soldiers and the salaries of clergymen and governmental officials were paid in tobacco. After 1730 tobacco notes, that is warehouse receipts, representing a certain amount of money, served as currency for the colony. The development of the inspection system with its chain of tobacco warehouses hastened urbanization. Around many of these warehouses grew villages and settlements; some of these eventually became towns and cities. Richmond, Petersburg, Danville, Fredericksburg, Farmville, Clarksville and others were once merely convenient landings or locations for tobacco warehouses. Even today the fragrant aroma of cured tobacco still exists in a number of these places during the tobacco marketing season. The tobacco trade was largely responsible for the birth and growth of Alexandria, Dumfries, and Norfolk into important export-import centers. For her birth, growth, and colonial leadership, Virginia pays her respect to John Rolfe and the other brave settlers at Jamestown. Tobacco is still a vital factor in Virginia's economy. Of approximately 2,000,000 acres of cropland (pastureland excluded) in 1949, 115,400 were planted in tobacco which produced 124,904,000 pounds valued at $55,120,800 or twenty-three percent of the total value of all agricultural crops. Of the four largest agricultural products--poultry, tobacco, meat animals, and milk--tobacco ranked second only to poultry in terms of income in 1955. Poultry produced an income of $99,935,000, tobacco $84,128,000, meat animals $80,564,000, and milk $70,681,000. Peanuts and fruits were tied for fifth place, each producing an income of about $21,000,000. Of the many different industries in Virginia today only five--food, textile, wearing apparel, chemical, and the manufacture of transportation equipment--employ more workers than the tobacco manufacturers. In 1953 a total of $40,000,000, in salaries and wages, was paid to production workers in the tobacco manufacturing industry in Virginia. Although tobacco is no longer "king" in the Old Dominion, Virginia farmers produce enough of the "golden weed" each year to make one long cigarette that would stretch around the world fifty times. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS This is to acknowledge the sources for the following illustrations: Methods of Transporting Tobacco to Market and Plantation Tobacco Houses and Public Warehouses--William Tatham, _An Historical and Practical Essay on the Culture and Commerce of Tobacco_, London, 1800; An Old Tobacco Warehouse--courtesy of Mrs. H. I. Worthington, Directress of the Ralph Wormeley Branch of the Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities, Syringa, Virginia; Tobacco cultivated by the Indians and Tobacco imported from the West Indies--these two pictures were reproduced by permission of George Arents and courtesy of the Virginia State Library. The pictures were found originally in _Tobacco; Its History Illustrated by the Books, Manuscripts and Engravings in the Library of George Arents, Jr., together with an Introductory Essay, a Glossary and Bibliographic Notes_, by Jerome E. Brooks, Volume 1, (The Rosenbach Company, New York, 1937). However, the two pictures in this pamphlet were reproduced from _Virginia Cavalcade_, by courtesy of the Virginia State Library. I am also grateful to Dr. E. G. Swem for his critical reading of the manuscript and his helpful suggestions, and to my wife for her proficient typing of the manuscript. G. M. H. 
47638	----	A TREATISE ON THE CULTURE OF THE TOBACCO PLANT. Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. [Illustration: _Flowers of the Tobacco plant_ _Drawn and Engraved by Copland & Sansom No 16 Maiden Lane_] A TREATISE ON THE CULTURE OF THE TOBACCO PLANT; WITH THE MANNER in which it is usually CURED. ADAPTED TO NORTHERN CLIMATES, AND DESIGNED FOR THE USE OF THE LANDHOLDERS OF GREAT-BRITAIN. TO WHICH ARE PREFIXED, TWO PLATES OF THE PLANT AND ITS FLOWERS. BY JONATHAN CARVER, ESQ. Author of TRAVELS through the interior Parts of NORTH-AMERICA. LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR, And sold by J. JOHNSON, in St. Paul's Church-yard. 1779. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE PRESIDENT, VICE-PRESIDENTS, AND MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF ARTS, MANUFACTURES AND COMMERCE. The Extension of every Branch of useful Knowledge being the great Object of the SOCIETY for the Encouragement of ARTS, MANUFACTURES and COMMERCE, the Author begs Leave to commit the following Treatise to their Patronage. London, March 26th, 1779. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. _Of the Discovery and Uses of Tobacco_ P. 1 CHAPTER II. _A Description of the Plant and its Flowers_ 9 CHAPTER III. _Of the Soil and Situation most proper for raising the Plant_ 13 CHAPTER IV. _Of its Culture, with a Description of the Worm that annoys it_ 15 CHAPTER V. _Of the Manner in which it is usually cured_ 28 APPENDIX 35 [Illustration: _Tobacco plant_ _Drawn and Engraved by Copland & Sansom No 16 Maiden Lane_] A TREATISE, _&c._ CHAPTER I. _Of the Discovery and Uses of Tobacco._ Tobacco, or Tabacco, is a medicinal plant, which remained unknown to Europeans till the discovery of America by the Spaniards; being first imported from thence about the year 1560. The Americans of the continent called it Petun; those of the islands, Yoli. Hernandez de Toledo sent it into Spain from Tabaco, a province of Yucatan, where he first found and learned its use; and from which place he gave it the denomination it still bears. Sir Walter Raleigh first introduced the use of it into England, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, about the year 1585. The plant was probably known in this kingdom before that time, by means of the Spaniards or Portuguese; it is however certain, that he first taught the English to smoke it. The French, on its first introduction among them, gave it various names, as Nicotiana, or the Embassador's Herb, from John Nicot, who came soon after it was discovered, as embassador to that court, from Francis the Second of Portugal, and brought some of it with him; which he presented to a grand Prior of the house of Lorrain, and to Queen Catherine de Medicis: on this account it was sometimes called the Grand Prior's Herb, and sometimes the Queen's Herb. When, or in what manner this plant was introduced into the oriental nations is uncertain, although it is at present in general use among them. Considerable quantities of it are likewise cultivated in the Levant, the coasts of Greece and the Archipelago, in the island of Malta and in Italy. Tobacco is termed by botanists, Nicotiana; and is arranged by them as a genus of the Pentandria Monogynia class of plants. It is sometimes used medicinally; but being very powerful in its operations, this must be done with great caution. The most common uses of it are, either as a sternutatory when taken by way of snuff, as a masticatory by chewing it in the mouth, or as an effluvia by smoking it; and when used with moderation is not an unhealthy amusement, whether it replenishes the humble pouch of the rustic, or the golden box of the courtier. Before pipes were invented, it was usually smoked in segars, and they are still in use among some of the southern nations. The method of preparing these is at once simple and expeditious: a leaf of tobacco being formed into a small twisted roll somewhat larger than the stem of a pipe, and about eight inches long, the smoke is conveyed through the winding folds, which prevent it from expanding, as through a tube; so that one end of it being lighted, and the other applied to the mouth, it is in this form used without much inconvenience: but in process of time, pipes being invented, they were found more commodious vehicles for the smoke, and are now in general use. Among all the productions of foreign climes introduced into these kingdoms, scarcely any has been held in higher estimation by persons of every rank than tobacco. In the countries of which it is a native, it is considered by the Indians as the most valuable offering that can be made to the Beings they worship: they use it in all their civil and religious ceremonies. When once its spiral wreaths ascend from the feathered pipe of peace, the compact that has just been made, is considered as sacred and inviolable. Likewise, when they address their great Father, or his guardian Spirits, residing as they believe in every extraordinary production of nature[1], they make liberal offerings of this valuable plant to them, doubting not but that they secure thereby the protection they request. Smoking was at first supposed to be the only means by which its virtues could be attained; but at length it was found out that the juices of it extracted by chewing were of a cordial nature, alleviating, in laborious employments, the cravings of hunger, or the depression of fatigue; and also, that the powder of it received into the head through the nostrils, in moderate quantities, was a salubrious and refreshing sternutatory. For these purposes, the Americans inhabiting the interior settlements manufacture it in the following easy manner. Being possessed of a tobacco-wheel, which is a very simple machine, they spin the leaves, after they are properly cured, into a twist of any size they think fit, and having folded it into rolls of about twenty pounds weight each, they lay it by for use. In this state it will keep for several years, and be continually improving, as it every hour grows milder. When they have occasion to use it, they take off such a length as they think necessary, which, if designed for smoking, they cut into small pieces, for chewing into longer, as choice directs; if they intend to make snuff of it they take a quantity from the roll, and laying it in a room where a fire is kept, in a day or two it will become dry, and being rubbed on a grater will produce a genuine snuff. Those, in more improved regions, who like their snuff scented, may apply to it such odoriferous waters as they can procure, or think most pleasing. The Illinois usually form it into carots, which is done by laying a number of leaves, when cured, on each other, after the ribs have been taken out, and rolling them round with packthread, till they become cemented together. These rolls commonly measure about eighteen or twenty inches long, and nine round in the middle part. But as many other methods are at present well known in England, that probably answer the purpose full as well as these, it is almost unnecessary to describe them. These directions are here given for the benefit of those who raise tobacco for their own use, and chuse to make their snuff without applying to the manufacturer for it. Among the articles of commerce tobacco holds a distinguished rank, and affords no inconsiderable addition to the revenues of the state. Before the present unhappy dissentions broke out between Great-Britain and America, about ninety-six thousand hogsheads were annually imported from Maryland and Virginia. Thirteen thousand five hundred of which were consumed at home; the duty of which, at the rate of 26_l._ 1_s._ per hogshead, amounted to 351,765_l._ The remaining eighty-two thousand, five hundred hogsheads were exported to various parts of Europe, and their value received in specie, or the produce of those countries. To the uses already enumerated, I shall add another to which tobacco might be applied, that I believe has never been made known to Europeans, and which will render it much more estimable than any of the foregoing. It has been found by the Americans to answer the purpose of tanning leather, as well, if not better, than bark; and was not the latter so plentiful in their country would be generally used by them instead of it. I have been witness to many experiments wherein it has proved successful, especially on the thinner sorts of hides, and can safely pronounce it to be, in countries where bark is scarce, a valuable substitute for that article. FOOTNOTE: [1] Vide Travels into the interior parts of North-America, chap. 13, page 382. CHAPTER II. _A Description of the Plant and its Flowers._ There are several species of the Tobacco Plant, and these are chiefly distinguishable by their flowers, and the junction of the leaves to the stalks; but as this is not intended for a Botanical Treatise, I shall confine my description to those sorts which are cultivated in the colonies for exportation: these are two; the Oronokoe and the sweet-scented; which differ from each other in no respect but in the shape of their leaves, those of the former being longer and narrower than the latter. Both are tall, herbaceous plants, of an erect growth and noble foliage, rising each with a strong stem (in their native soil) to the height of from six to nine feet. The stalk is upwards of an inch diameter near the root, and surrounded with a kind of hairy or velvet, clammy substance, of a yellowish green colour. The leaves, which are rather of a deeper green, grow to the stalk alternately, at the distance of about two or three inches from each other. They are oblong, of a spear-shaped-oval, and simple; without pedicles embracing the stalk by an auriculated base. The largest are about twenty inches long, decreasing in size as they ascend, till they are not longer than ten inches, and nearly half as broad. The face of the leaves is much undulated, or corrugated, not unlike those of spinnage when full ripe. In their first state, at the time they do not exceed five or six inches, the leaves are usually of a full green, and rather smooth, but as they increase in size they acquire a yellowish cast and become rougher. The stem and branches are terminated by large bunches of flowers, collected into clusters of a delicate red, the edges, when quite blown, inclining to a pale purple. The flowers continue in succession until the end of summer, when they make room for the seed. These are of a brown colour, kidney-shaped, and very small, each capsule generally containing about a thousand, and the whole produce of a single plant is estimated at three hundred and fifty thousand. The seeds are usually ripe in the month of September, and when perfectly dry may be rubbed out and preserved in bags till the following season. The Oronokoe, or, as it is termed by the seedsmen, the long Virginia, appears to me to be the sort best suited to bear the rigour of a northern climate, the strength of the plant, as well as the scent and efficacy of the leaves being greater than the other. The sweet-scented flourishes most in a sandy soil and warm countries, where it greatly exceeds the former in the celerity of its growth; and although, as I have before observed, it differs from the Oronokoe only in the shape of its leaves, being shorter and rounder, yet it is unlike in its strength and flavour, being, agreeable to its name, much milder and pleasanter. As a species of garden plants, the Nicotiana is an ornamental annual for the pleasure ground, as it attains a majestic stature, and being adorned with fine luxuriant leaves, and large clusters of pleasing flowers which terminate all the shoots, during the autumn it exhibits an elegant appearance. For a more compleat idea of the Oronokoe plant and its flowers, the reader is referred to the plate prefixed to this Work. But it must be observed, that the number of leaves represented on the stalk is not designed to serve as a rule for topping the tobacco, as directed in the fourth chapter. Only a few of them are annexed to the stalk, that the representation of the leaf might be the more compleat. CHAPTER III. _Of the Soil and Situation most proper for raising the Plant._ The best ground for raising the plant is a warm, kindly, rich soil, that is not subject to be over-run with weeds; for from these it must be totally cleared. The soil in which it grows in its native climate, Virginia, is inclining to sandy, consequently warm and light; the nearer therefore the nature of the land in which it is planted in England approaches to that, the greater probability there is of its flourishing here. Other kinds of soils may probably be brought to suit it, by a mixture with some attenuating species of manure, but a knowledge of this must be the result of repeated trials. It must however be remembered, that whatever manure is added to the soil must be thoroughly incorporated with it. The situation most preferable for a plantation is the southern declivity of a hill, rather gradual than abrupt; or a spot that is sheltered by a wall, a bank, or any other means, from the blighting north winds which so frequently blow, during the spring months, in this island: but at the same time it is necessary to observe, that the plants must enjoy a free current of air; for if that be obstructed they will not prosper. CHAPTER IV. _Of its Culture, with a Description of the Worm that annoys it._ As the tobacco plant, being an annual, is only to be raised from seed, I would particularly recommend to such as mean to cultivate it, the greatest care in purchasing these, lest by sowing such as is not good, they lose, with their expected crop, the season. The different sorts of the seeds not being distinguishable, like the plants, from each other, nor the goodness to be ascertained by their appearance, the purchaser, till he has raised a supply from his own cultivation, must depend on the veracity of the seedsman; who may be also sometimes deceived, having nothing to rely on but the honour of the person who raised it: prudence therefore requires that he should apply to a person of character in that profession. In describing the manner in which the plant ought to be raised from the seed, as well as in the succeeding process, I shall confine myself (without regarding the methods usually pursued in Virginia or Maryland, which, from the difference of the climate, can be of little service here) to the practice of the northern colonies of America; as these are more parallel in their latitude to England. And there being even a difference between the climate of these and that of Great-Britain, to the disadvantage of the latter (I mean with regard to the cultivation of the tobacco plant) I shall minutely attend to this variation, and in the directions I give endeavour to guard against the inconveniences of it. These instructions shall likewise be given in plain and familiar terms, and not in a language that can be only understood by the Botanist or Gardener, that this Treatise may be of general use. About the middle of April, or rather sooner in a forward spring, (for the season must be attended to, as this plant will not bear forcing) sow the seed in beds first prepared for the purpose, composed of such soil as before described, mixed with some warm, rich manure. In a cold spring, regular hot beds would be most eligible for this purpose; and indeed the Gardeners of this country are persuaded, that the Nicotania cannot be raised in any other way; but as these are seldom to be found in the garden of the farmer, and as I am convinced that if the weather is not remarkably severe, they might be reared without doors, for his benefit I shall give the following instructions relative to their treatment. Having sown the seed in the manner directed, on the least apprehension of a frost after the plants appear, it will be necessary to spread mats over the beds, a little elevated from the ground by poles laid across, that they may not be crushed. These however must be removed in the morning soon after the sun appears, that they may receive as much benefit as possible from its warmth, and from the air. In this manner proceed till the leaves have attained the size of about two inches in length, and one in breadth, which they will do in about a month after they are sown, or near the middle of May, when the frosts usually are at an end. One invariable rule for their being able to bear removal is, when the fourth leaf is sprouted, and the fifth just appears. Then take the opportunity of the first rains, or gentle showers, to transplant them into such a soil and situation as before described. This must be done in the following manner: The land must be plowed, or dug up with spades, and made as mellow and light as possible. Where the plants are to be placed, raise with the hoe small hillocks at the distance of two feet, or a little more, from each other, taking care that no hard sods or lumps are in it, and then just indent the middle of each, without drilling holes as for some other plants. When your ground is thus prepared, dig in a gentle manner from their native bed, such plants as are arrived at the state before-mentioned, and drop, as you pass, one on every hillock. Insert a plant gently into each center, pressing the soil around it with your fingers, and taking the greatest care, during the operation, that you do not break off any of the leaves, which are at this time exquisitely tender. If the weather proves dry, after they are thus transplanted, they must be watered with soft water, in the same manner as is usually done to coleworts or plants of a similar kind. Notwithstanding you now appear to have a sufficient quantity of plants for the space you intend to cultivate, yet it is necessary that you continue to attend to your bed of seedlings, that you may have enough to supply any deficiences which, through accident, might arise. From this time great care must be taken to keep the ground soft, and free from weeds, by often stirring with your hoe the mould round the roots; and to prune off the dead leaves that sometimes are found near the bottom of the stalk. The difference of this climate from that in which I have been accustomed to observe the progress of this plant, will not permit me to direct with certainty the time which is most proper to take off the top of it, to prevent it from running to seed. This knowledge can only be perfectly acquired by experience. When it has risen to upwards of two feet, it commonly begins to put forth the branches on which the flowers and seeds are produced; but as this expansion, if suffered to take place, would drain the nutriment from the leaves, which are the most valuable part, and thereby lessen their size and efficacy, it becomes needful at this stage to nip off the extremity of the stalk, to prevent its growing higher. In some other climates the top is commonly cut off when the plant has fifteen leaves. If the tobacco is intended to be a little stronger than usual, this is done when it has only thirteen; and sometimes, when it is chosen to be remarkably powerful, eleven or twelve leaves only are allowed to expand. On the contrary, if the planter is desirous to have his crop very mild, he suffers it to put forth eighteen or twenty: but in this calculation the three or four lower leaves next the ground, which do not grow so large and fine as the others, are not to be reckoned. This is denominated "topping the tobacco," and is much better done by the finger and thumb, than with any instrument, because the former close, at the same time, the pores of the plant; whereas, when it is done with the latter, the juices are in some degree exhausted. And though this might appear unimportant, yet every method that tends to give vigour to the leaves should be carefully pursued. For the same reasons care must be taken to nip off the sprouts that will be continually springing up at the junction of the leaves with the stalks. "This is termed succouring or suckering the tobacco," and ought to be repeated as often as occasion requires. The last, and not the least concern in the cultivation of this plant, is the destruction of the worm that nature has given it for an enemy, and which, like many other reptiles, preys on its benefactor. To destroy these, which are the only insects that molest this plant, or at least to keep them under, for it is impossible totally to exterminate them, every leaf must be carefully searched. As soon as a wound is discovered, and it will not be long before it is perceptible, care must be taken to destroy the cause of it, who will be found near it, and from his unsubstantial texture, which I shall describe at the conclusion of this chapter, be easily crushed: but the best method is to pluck it away by the horn, and then crush it. Without a constant attention to these noxious insects, a whole field of plants may be soon destroyed; and even if any of them are left in the leaves, during the cure, they prove equally destructive. This is termed "worming the tobacco;" and as these worms are found most predominant the latter end of July, and the beginning of August, they must be particularly attended to at that season. As I have just observed, that it is impossible, without experience, to point out the due time for topping the plant, so it is equally as impossible to ascertain the time it will take to ripen in this climate. That can only be known by future observations; for as it is at present only cultivated in England as an ornament for the garden, no attention has, I believe, been hitherto bestowed on the preservation of its leaves. The apparent signs, however, of its maturity are these: The leaves, as they approach a state of ripeness, become more corrugated or rough; and when fully ripe, appear mottled with yellowish spots on the raised parts, whilst the cavities retain their usual green colour. They are, at this time, also thicker than they have before been, and are covered with a kind of downy velvet, in the same manner as the stalks are described to be, in the preceding chapter. If heavy rains happen at this critical period, they will wash this excrescent substance off, and thereby damage the plants. In this case, if the frosty nights are not begun, it is proper to let them stand a few days longer; when, if the weather be more moderate, they will recover this substance again. But if a frost unexpectedly happens during the night, they must be carefully examined in the morning before the sun has any influence on them; and those which are found to be covered with frosty particles, whether thoroughly ripe or not, must be cut up: for though they may not all appear to be arrived at a state of maturity, yet they cannot be far from it, and will differ but little in goodness from those that are perfectly so. Having now given every instruction that occurs to my memory relative to the culture of the plant, I shall proceed, as proposed, to describe the worm that infests it. It is of the horned species, and appears to be peculiar to this plant; so that in many parts of America it is distinguished by the name of the Tobacco-Worm. In what manner it is first produced, or how propagated, is uncertain; but doubtless by the same inexplicable means that nature makes use of to continue the existence of many other classes of this minute part of the creation. The first time it is discernible, is when the plants have gained about half their height: it then appears to be nearly as large as a gnat; soon after which it lengthens into a worm, and by degrees increases in magnitude to the size of a man's finger. In shape it is regular from its head to its tail, without any diminution at either extremity; indented or ribbed round at equal distances, nearly a quarter of an inch from each other, and having at every one of these divisions, a pair of feet or claws, by which it fastens itself to the plant. Its mouth, like that of the caterpillar, is placed under the fore-part of the head. On the top of the head, between the eyes, grows a horn about half an inch in length, and greatly resembling a thorn; the extreme part of which is in colour brown, of a firm texture, and sharp pointed. By this horn, as before observed, it is usually plucked from the leaf. It is easily crushed, being only, to appearance, a composition of green juice inclosed by a membranous covering, without the internal parts of an animated being. The colour of its skin is in general green, interspersed with spots of a yellowish white; and the whole covered with a short hair scarcely to be discerned. To preserve the planter from the ravages of an insect so destructive to his plantation, as he will thereby be able to distinguish it with a greater degree of precision, I have given in the frontispiece as exact a representation of it as can be done from memory. CHAPTER V. _Of the Manner in which it is usually cured._ When the plant is found, agreeable to the preceding directions, to be fit for gathering, on the first morning that promises a fair day, before the sun is risen, take an axe or a long knife, and holding the stalk near the top with one hand, sever it from its root with the other, as low as possible. Having done this, lay it gently on the ground, so as not to break off the leaves, and there let it remain exposed to the rays of the sun throughout the day, or until the leaves are entirely wilted, as it is termed in America; that is, till they become limber, and will bend any way without breaking. But if, on the contrary, the rain should continue without any intervals, and the plants appear to be full ripe, they must be cut down and housed immediately. This must be done, however, with great care, that the leaves, which are in this state very brittle, may not be broken. Being placed under proper shelter, either in a barn or a covered hovel, where they cannot be affected by the rain or too much air, they must be thinly scattered on the floor, and if the sun does not appear for several days, so that they can be laid out again, they must remain to wilt in that manner; which is not indeed so desirable as in the sun, nor will the tobacco prove quite so good. When the leaves have acquired the flexibility before described, the plants must be laid in heaps, or rather in one heap, if the quantity be not too great, and in about twenty-four hours they will be found to sweat. But during this time, when they have lain for a little while, and begin to ferment, it is necessary to turn them; bringing those which are in the middle to the surface, and placing those which were at the surface, in the middle, that by this means the whole quantity may be equally fermented. The longer they lie in this situation the darker coloured the tobacco becomes. This is termed "sweating the tobacco." After they have lain in this manner for three or four days, for in a longer time they may heat so much as to grow mouldy, the plants may be fastened together in pairs, with cords or wooden pegs, near the bottom of the stalk, and hung across a pole, with the leaves suspended, in the same covered place, a proper interval being left between each pair. In about a month the leaves will be thoroughly dried, and of a proper temperature to be taken down. This state may be ascertained by their appearing of the same colour as those imported from America, with which few are unacquainted. But this can be done at no other season than during wet weather; for the tobacco being a plant greatly abounding with salts, it is always affected if there is the least humidity in the atmosphere, even though it be hung in a dry place. If this rule be not observed, but they are removed in dry weather, the external parts of the leaves will crumble into dust, and a considerable waste will attend its removal. As soon as the plants are taken down, they must once more be laid in a heap, and pressed with heavy logs of wood for about a week. This climate, however, may require a longer time. While they remain in this state, it will be necessary to introduce your hand frequently into the heap, to discover whether the heat be not too intense; for in large quantities this will sometimes be the case, and considerable damage will accrue from it. When they are found to heat too much, that is, when the heat exceeds a moderate glowing warmth, part of the weight by which they are compressed must be taken away; and the cause being removed, the effect will cease. This is called "the second or last sweating," and when compleated, which it generally will be in about the time just mentioned, the leaves may be stripped from the stalks for use. Many omit this last operation, but I think it takes away any remaining harshness, and renders the tobacco more mellow. The strength of the stalk also is diffused by it through the leaves, and the whole mass becomes equally meliorated. When the leaves are stripped from the stalks, they are to be tied up in bunches or hands, and kept in a cellar, or any other place that is damp; though if not handled in dry weather, but only during a rainy season, it is of little consequence in what part of the house or barn they are laid up. At this period the tobacco is thoroughly cured, and equally as proper for manufacturing as that imported from the colonies. Having gone through the whole process, if it has been properly managed, that raw fiery taste so frequently found in the common sale tobacco will be totally eradicated, and though it retains all its strength, will be soft and pleasing in its flavour. Those who are curious in their tobacco in the northern colonies of America sprinkle it, when made up into the roles for keeping, described in the first chapter, with small common white wines or cyder, instead of salt water, which gives it an inexpressibly fine flavour. APPENDIX. That estrangement which at present subsists between Great-Britain and the American colonies, renders a supply of the article of which I treat, and which is become so essentially necessary to the happiness of a great number of his Majesty's subjects, very uncertain; it depends, in a great measure, on the prizes, freighted with this commodity, that happen to be taken, and on the quantities which are imported from other commercial states at a high price. It is therefore to be hoped that the legislature will take into consideration so important a concern, and pursue such measures as will conduce to remove this uncertainty. A remedy is at hand; that of cultivating it in these kingdoms; but this appears to be prohibited by the following ancient acts of parliament: In an act of Charles the Second, entitled, "An act for prohibiting the planting, setting, or sowing tobacco in England and Ireland," the prohibition is thus expressed: "Your Majesty's loyal and obedient subjects, the Lords and Commons in this present parliament assembled, considering of how great concern and importance it is, that the colonies and plantations of this kingdom in America, be defended, protected, maintained, and kept up, and that all due and possible encouragement be given unto them; and that not only in regard great and considerable dominions and countries have been thereby gained, and added to the imperial crown of this realm, but for that the strength and welfare of this kingdom, do very much depend upon them, in regard of the employment of a very considerable part of its shipping and seamen, and of the vent of very great quantities of its native commodities and manufactures, as also of its supply with several considerable commodities which it was wont formerly to have only from foreigners, and at far dearer rates: And forasmuch as tobacco is one of the main products of several of those plantations, and upon which their welfare and subsistence, and the navigation of this kingdom, and vent of its commodities thither, do much depend; and in regard it is found by experience, That by the planting of tobacco in these parts your Majesty is deprived of a considerable part of your revenue arising by customs upon imported tobacco; Do most humbly pray, That it may be enacted by your Majesty: And it is hereby enacted by the King's Most Excellent Majesty, and the Lords and Commons in this present parliament assembled, and by authority of the same, That no person or persons whatsoever, shall or do from and after the first day of January, in the year of our Lord One Thousand Six Hundred and Sixty, set, plant, improve to grow, make or cure any tobacco either in seed, plant, or otherwise, in or upon any ground, earth, field, or place within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, islands of Guernsey or Jersey, or town of Berwick upon Tweed, or in the kingdom of Ireland, under the penalty of the forfeiture of all such tobacco, or the value thereof, or of the sum of forty shillings for every rod or pole of ground so planted, set or sown as aforesaid, and so proportionably for a greater or lesser quantity of ground; one moiety thereof to his Majesty, his heirs and successors; and the other moiety to him or them that shall sue for the same, to be recovered by bill, plaint, or information in any court of record, wherein no essoign, protection or wager in law shall be allowed. "Provided always and it is hereby enacted, That this act, nor any thing therein contained, shall extend to the hindering of the planting of tobacco in any physic garden of either university, or in any other private garden for physic or chyrurgery, only so as the quantity so planted exceed not half of one pole in any one place or garden." In this act all sheriffs, justices of the peace, or other officers, upon information or complaint made unto them, are empowered to cause to be burnt, plucked up, consumed or utterly destroyed all such tobacco, set, sown, planted or growing within their jurisdiction. But it not proving forcible enough to prevent the cultivation of tobacco; in the fifteenth year of the reign of the said King, a clause was inserted in an act, entitled, "An act for the encouragement of trade," to the following purport, clause 18. "And forasmuch as planting and making tobacco within the kingdom of England doth continue and encrease, to the apparent loss of his said Majesty in his customs, the discouragement of the English plantations in the parts beyond the seas, and prejudice of this kingdom in general, notwithstanding an act of parliament made in the twelfth year of his said Majesty's reign for prevention thereof, entituled, An act for prohibiting the planting, setting or sowing of tobacco in England and Ireland; and forasmuch as it is found by experience, that the reason why the said planting and making of tobacco doth continue, is, That the penalties prescribed and appointed by that law are so little, as to have neither power or effect over the transgressors thereof; For remedy therefore of so great an evil, Be it enacted by the authority aforesaid, That all and every the person or persons whatsoever, that do, or shall at any time hereafter set, plant or sow any tobacco in seed, plant or otherwise, in or upon any ground, field, earth, or place within the kingdom of England, &c. shall, over and above the penalty of the said act for that purpose ordained, for every such offence forfeit and pay the sum of ten pounds for every rod or pole of ground that he or they shall so plant, set, or sow with tobacco, and so proportionably for a greater or lesser quantity of ground; one third part thereof to the King, one other third part to the poor of such respective parish or parishes wherein such tobacco shall be so planted, and the other third thereof to him or them that shall sue for the same." "Physic gardens excepted as before." This penalty also proving insufficient to put a stop to the cultivation, it was found necessary in the twenty-second year of the reign of the said Charles the Second to enforce it by the following act, entitled, "An act to prevent the planting of tobacco in England, and regulating the plantation trade." "Whereas the sowing, setting, planting and curing of tobacco, within divers parts of the kingdom of England, doth continue and increase, to the apparent loss of his Majesty's customs, and the discouragement of his Majesty's plantations in America, and great prejudice of the trade and navigation of this realm, and the vent of its commodities thither, notwithstanding an act of parliament made in the twelfth year of his Majesty's reign that now is, for the prevention thereof, entitled, 'An act for prohibiting the planting, setting, or sowing of tobacco in England and Ireland;' And also one other act of this present parliament, made in the fifteenth year of his said Majesty's reign, entitled, 'An act for the encouragement of trade.' "And forasmuch as the remedies and provisions by these laws are found not large enough to obviate and prevent the planting thereof, Be it therefore enacted by the King's Most Excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons in Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, That from and after the first day of May, which shall be in the year of our Lord, One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventy-one, all justices of the peace, within their several limits and jurisdictions, shall and do, a month before every general quarter-sessions to be holden for their respective counties, issue forth their warrants to all high-constables, petty-constables, and tything-men, within their several limits, thereby requiring the said high-constables, petty-constables and tything-men, and every of them, to make diligent search and inquisition, what tobacco is then sown, set, planted, growing, curing, cured or made within their several and respective limits and jurisdictions, and by whom; and to make a true and lawful presentment in writing upon oath, at the next general quarter-sessions to be holden for such county, of the names of all such persons as have sown, set, planted, cured or made any tobacco; and what the full quantity of land is, or was sown, set or planted therewith, and who are the immediate tenant or tenants, or present occupiers of the land so sown, set or planted, who are or shall be deemed planters thereof, to all intents and purposes. "Which said presentment upon oath, shall be received and filed by the clerk of the said county in open sessions; and after such receipt and filing, shall be a sufficient conviction in law to all intents and purposes, of all such persons as shall be so presented for the sowing, setting, planting, improving to grow, making or curing tobacco, either in seed, plant, leaf, or otherwise, contrary to the said recited act or either of them; unless such person or persons so presented shall, according to the usual forms, traverse such presentment. "And it is hereby further enacted, That all constables, tything-men, bailiffs, and other public officers, shall and do within their respective jurisdictions, from time to time, as often as occasion shall require, within fourteen days after warrant from two or more of the justices of the peace within such county, town, city or place, to them, calling to their assistance such person or persons as they and every of them shall find convenient and necessary, pluck up, burn, consume, tear to pieces, and utterly destroy, all tobacco seed, plant, leaf, planted, sowed, or growing in any field, earth or ground." The other clauses relative to the cultivation of tobacco in this act, are, "A penalty on the officers of five shillings for every rod, perch, or pole of ground so set, planted, or sowed with tobacco, that shall be suffered or permitted to grow or be consumed in seed, plant or leaf, within their jurisdiction, by the space of fourteen days after the receipt of such warrant or warrants." "A penalty for refusing to assist the officers, and also for resisting them." And after making the same provision as before for the physic gardens, and reciting many other articles for regulating the plantation trade, the act thus concludes: "Provided always, and be it enacted. That this act shall continue in force for nine years, and from thence to the next session of parliament, and no longer." By an act made the fifth of George the First, these acts are confirmed and rendered perpetual. The repeated inforcement of them seems to prove, that large quantities of tobacco were raised at that period in these dominions, and that even the penalty of ten pounds per rod was not sufficient to deter persons from the cultivation of it. As an application has just been made to parliament for an act to permit the growth of it in Ireland, the observations made in this Treatise will not, I flatter myself, be thought unworthy the notice of the legislature, that so advantageous a branch of agriculture may not be confined to one division of Great-Britain, but that every part of these united kingdoms may be allowed to share in the emoluments arising from it. The advantages which will proceed from the permission, are too many to be enumerated in so short a Work. Whether a sufficient quantity can be raised in these kingdoms to supply the demand there was for it before the American trade became interrupted, (as a revival of the demand will be the certain consequence of a reduction of the price) time alone can discover: but if enough be only raised for home consumption, this will be no inconsiderable saving to the nation. When the very great profits, arising to the planter from every acre of tobacco, come to be known, (they will appear chimerical if I inform my readers to what they amount) I doubt not but that tobacco will be considered as the most valuable branch of agriculture which can be attended to. An emulation, heightened by the prospect of gain, being once excited in the breasts of the landholders of these kingdoms, large tracks of land that now lie unimproved, will be cultivated, and, after some years, enough may probably be raised to answer the usual demands for exportation. By this means the revenue, which has been so greatly diminished by the unhappy divisions between Great-Britain and the colonies, will be in a great measure restored. The duties to be collected for this purpose may either be laid on the plants before they are gathered, or during the time of cure, as on the article of malt; the collection of which would be attended with very little additional expence, and probably, at no distant period, amount to as much as was heretofore received on imported tobacco. When the happy æra arrives that will unite once more Great-Britain to the American colonies (an event, I fear, more to be wished than expected) and a constant uninterrupted supply of this necessary exotic provided, the wonted restraint might be renewed, as far as is consistent with the situation of both countries at that time. By pursuing the rules laid down in the preceding chapters, which I have endeavoured to give in as explicit terms as possible, country gentlemen and landholders in general will be enabled to raise much better tobacco than that which is usually imported from Maryland or Virginia: for notwithstanding there are not wanting prohibitory laws in those countries to prevent the planters from sending to market any but the principal leaves, yet as most other commodities are subject to abuse or adulteration, they frequently, to increase their profit, suffer the sprouts to grow, and mix the smaller leaves of these with the others, which renders them much inferior in goodness. The crops that I have reason to believe may be raised in England, will greatly exceed in flavour and efficacy any that is imported from the southern colonies: for though northern climates require far more care and exactness to cultivate and bring tobacco to a proper state of maturity than warmer latitudes, yet this tardiness of growth tends to impregnate the plants with a greater quantity of salts, and consequently of that aromatic flavour for which it is prized, than is to be found in the produce of hotter climes, where it is brought to a state of perfection, from the seed, in half the time required in colder regions. A pound of tobacco raised in New-England or Nova-Scotia is supposed to contain as much real strength as two pounds of Virginia; and I doubt not but that near double the quantity of salts might be extracted from it by a chymical process. Good tobacco, the produce of the northern colonies, is powerful, aromatic, and has a most pleasing flavour. The fumes of it are invigorating to the head, and leave not that nausea on the stomach that the common sort does. As much time would be required to smoke one pipe of it, as three of that which is generally used: before so great a quantity of the vapour could be drawn from it as to prove hurtful, the smoker, from intoxication, would be unable to continue his amusement. I can truly say, after a residence of several years in England, that I never met with any tobacco, though I frequently smoke, that in strength or the delicacy of its flavour, is to be compared with that which I have been accustomed to in New-England. Many authors have given accounts of the bad effects proceeding from an immoderate use of tobacco. Borrhi mentions a person, who through excess of smoking, had dried his brain to so great a degree, that after his death there was nothing found in his skull but a small black lump confirming of mere membranes. From the use of good tobacco this could not have happened; for, as I have just observed, the fumes which only prove noxious from an immoderate continuance, could not have been repeated so often as to produce such dreadful effects. To the instructions already given I shall add, that I would advise the planter, in his first trials, not to be too avaricious, but to top his plants before they have gained their utmost height; leaving only about the middle quantity of leaves directed before, to give it a tolerable degree of strength. For though this, if excessive, might be abated during the cure, by an increase of sweating, or be remedied the next season by more leaves being suffered to grow, it can never be added; and without a certain degree, the tobacco will always be tasteless and of little value. On the contrary, though it be ever so much weakened by sweating, and thereby rendered mild, yet it will never lose that aromatic flavour which accompanied that strength, and which greatly adds to its value. In the directions before given for raising the plants from the seed, I have omitted to mention the size of the beds on which a specified number of them may be produced. I apprehend that a square yard of land, for which a very small quantity of seed is sufficient, they being so diminutive, will produce about five hundred plants, and allow proper space for their nurture till they are fit to transplant. I shall also just add, though the example can only be followed in particular parts of these kingdoms, that the Americans usually chuse for the place where they intend to make the seedling-bed, part of a copse, or a spot of ground covered with wood, of which they burn down such a portion as they think necessary. Having done this, they rake up the subjacent mould, and mixing it with the ashes thus produced, sow therein the seed, without adding any other manure, or taking any other steps. Where this method cannot be pursued (though it is much the best, as it destroys at the same time the weeds) wood ashes, which are most proper manure for this purpose, may be strewed over the mould in which the seed is designed to be sown. The Author presumes that the preceding instructions will be found sufficient for any person inclined to enter upon the cultivation of tobacco; yet if any nobleman or gentleman wishes to consult him upon the subject, he will give his attendance on receiving a line at his Publisher's. FINIS. 
18934	----	[Illustration] MY LADY NICOTINE =A Study in Smoke= BY J. M. BARRIE AUTHOR OF "SENTIMENTAL TOMMY," ETC. _ILLUSTRATED BY_ M. B. PRENDERGAST BOSTON KNIGHT AND MILLET PUBLISHERS CONTENTS [Illustration] CHAP. PAGE I. MATRIMONY AND SMOKING COMPARED 1 II. MY FIRST CIGAR 11 III. THE ARCADIA MIXTURE 18 IV. MY PIPES 27 V. MY TOBACCO-POUCH 38 VI. MY SMOKING-TABLE 45 VII. GILRAY 52 VIII. MARRIOT 60 IX. JIMMY 70 X. SCRYMGEOUR 78 XI. HIS WIFE'S CIGARS 87 XII. GILRAY'S FLOWER-POT 94 XIII. THE GRANDEST SCENE IN HISTORY 103 XIV. MY BROTHER HENRY 116 XV. HOUSE-BOAT "ARCADIA" 124 XVI. THE ARCADIA MIXTURE AGAIN 133 XVII. THE ROMANCE OF A PIPE-CLEANER 143 XXVIII. WHAT COULD HE DO? 151 XIX. PRIMUS 159 XX. PRIMUS TO HIS UNCLE 168 XXI. ENGLISH-GROWN TOBACCO 177 XXII. HOW HEROES SMOKE 186 XXIII. THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS EVE 194 XXIV. NOT THE ARCADIA 202 XXV. A FACE THAT HAUNTED MARRIOT 209 XXVI. ARCADIANS AT BAY 216 XXVII. JIMMY'S DREAM 223 XXVIII. GILRAY'S DREAM 231 XXIX. PETTIGREW'S DREAM 239 XXX. THE MURDER IN THE INN 247 XXXI. THE PERILS OF NOT SMOKING 252 XXXII. MY LAST PIPE 260 XXXIII. WHEN MY WIFE IS ASLEEP AND ALL THE HOUSE IS STILL 269 [Illustration] [Illustration] Illustrations PAGE Half-Title i Frontispiece iv Title-Page v Headpiece to Table of Contents vii Tailpiece to Table of Contents viii Headpiece to List of Illustrations ix Tailpiece to List of Illustrations xiii Headpiece to Chap. I. 1 "As well as a spring bonnet and a nice dress" 6 "There are the Japanese fans on the wall" 7 Tailpiece Chap. I. "My wife puts her hand on my shoulder" 10 Headpiece Chap. II. 11 "At last he jumped up" 14 Box of cigars 15 Tailpiece Chap. II. "I firmly lighted my first cigar" 17 Headpiece Chap. III. "Jimmy pins a notice on his door" 18 "We are only to be distinguished by our pipes" 20 The Arcadia Mixture 21 Tailpiece Chap. III. 26 Headpiece Chap. IV. "Oh, see what I have done" 27 "I fell in love with two little meerschaums" 33 Pipes and pouch 36 Tailpiece Chap. IV. 37 Headpiece Chap. V. "They ... made tongs of their knitting-needles to lift it" 38 "I ... cast my old pouch out at the window" 40, 41 "It never quite recovered from its night in the rain" 43 Tailpiece Chap. V. 44 Headpiece Chap VI. "My Smoking-Table" 45 "Sometimes I had knocked it over accidentally" 48 Tailpiece Chap. VI. 51 Headpiece Chap. VII. "We met first in the Merediths' house-boat" 52 "He 'strode away blowing great clouds into the air,'" 57 Tailpiece Chap. VII. "The Arcadia had him for its own" 59 Headpiece Chap. VIII. "I let him talk on" 60 Pipes and jar of spills 62, 63 Tray of pipes and cigars 64 "I would ... light him to his sleeping-chamber with a spill" 68 Tailpiece Chap. VIII. 69 Headpiece Chap. IX. "The stem was a long cherry-wood" 70 "In time ... the Arcadia Mixture made him more and more like the rest of us" 71 "A score of smaller letters were tumbling about my feet" 74 Tailpiece Chap. IX. "Mothers' pets" 77 Headpiece Chap. X. "Scrymgeour was an artist" 78 "With shadowy reptiles crawling across the panels" 81 "Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat into a Japanese dressing-gown" 84 Tailpiece Chap. X. 86 Headpiece Chap. XI. "His wife's cigars" 87 "A packet of Celebros alighted on my head" 88 "I told her the cigars were excellent" 90 Tailpiece Chap. XI. 93 Headpiece Chap. XII. "Gilray's flower-pot" 94 "Then Arcadians would drop in" 97 "I wrote to him" 99 Tailpiece Chap. XII. "The can nearly fell from my hand" 102 Headpiece Chap. XIII. 103 "Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this country" 105 The Arcadia Mixture 111 "Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern picking out his men" 113 Tailpiece Chap. XIII. 115 Headpiece Chap. XIV. "I was testing some new Cabanas" 116 "A few weeks later some one tapped me on the shoulder" 118 "Naturally in the circumstances you did not want to talk about Henry" 120 Tailpiece Chap. XIV. 123 Headpiece Chap. XV. "House-boat Arcadia" 124 "I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind" 126 "It was the boy come back with the vegetables" 129 Tailpiece Chap. XV. "There was a row all round, which resulted in our division into five parties" 132 Headpiece Chap. XVI. "The Arcadia Mixture again" 133 "On the open window ... stood a round tin of tobacco" 135 "A pipe of the Mixture" 138 "The lady was making pretty faces with a cigarette in her mouth" 139 Tailpiece Chap. XVI. 142 Headpiece Chap. XVII. "He was in love again" 143 "I heard him walking up and down the deck" 145 Tailpiece Chap. XVII. "He took the wire off me and used it to clean his pipe" 150 Headpiece Chap. XVIII. "I had walked from Spondinig to Franzenshohe" 151 "On the middle of the plank she had turned to kiss her hand" 152 "Then she burst into tears" 157 Tailpiece Chap. XVIII. "A wall has risen up between us" 158 Headpiece Chap. XIX. "Primus" 159 "Many tall hats struck, to topple in the dust" 161 "Running after sheep, from which ladies were flying" 163 "I should like to write you a line" 165 Tailpiece Chap. XIX. "I am, respected sir, your diligent pupil" 167 Headpiece Chap. XX. 168 "Reading Primus's letters" 171 Tailpiece Chap. XX. 176 Headpiece Chap. XXI. "English-grown tobacco" 177 "I smoked my third cigar very slowly" 182 Tailpiece Chap. XXI. 185 Headpiece Chap. XXII. "How heroes smoke" 186 "Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a good cigar" 189 "A half-smoked cigar" 190 "The tall, scornful gentleman who leans lazily against the door" 192 Tailpiece Chap. XXII. 193 Headpiece Chap. XXIII. 194 "The ghost of Christmas eve" 195 "My pipe" 199 "My brier, which I found beneath my pillow" 200 Tailpiece Chap. XXIII. 201 Headpiece Chap. XXIV. "But the pipes were old friends" 202 "It had the paper in its mouth" 205 Tailpiece Chap. XXIV. "I was pleased that I had lost" 208 Headpiece Chap. XXV. "A face that haunted Marriot" 209 "There was the French girl at Algiers" 212 Tailpiece Chap. XXV. 215 Headpiece Chap. XXVI. "Arcadians at bay" 216 Pipes and tobacco-jar 220 Tailpiece Chap. XXVI. "Jimmy began as follows" 222 Headpiece Chap. XXVII. "Jimmy's dream" 223 Pipes 226 "Council for defence calls attention to the prisoner's high and unblemished character" 229 Tailpiece Chap. XXVII. 230 Headpiece Chap. XXVIII. 231 "These indefatigable amateurs began to dance a minuet" 235 A friendly favor 237 Tailpiece Chap. XXVIII. 238 Headpiece Chap. XXIX. "Pettigrew's dream" 239 "He went round the morning-room" 241 "His wife ... filled his pipe for him" 243 "Mrs. Pettigrew sent one of the children to the study" 244 Tailpiece Chap. XXIX. "I awarded the tin of Arcadia to Pettigrew" 246 Headpiece Chap. XXX. "Sometimes I think it is all a dream" 247 Tailpiece Chap. XXX. 251 Headpiece Chap. XXXI. "They thought I had weakly yielded" 252 "They went one night in a body to Pettigrew's" 254 Tailpiece Chap. XXXI. 259 Headpiece Chap. XXXII. 260 "Then we began to smoke" 262 "I conjured up the face of a lady" 265 "Not even Scrymgeour knew what my pouch had been to me" 267 Tailpiece Chap. XXXII. 268 Headpiece Chap. XXXIII. "When my wife is asleep and all the house is still" 269 "The man through the wall" 272 Pipes 275 Tailpiece Chap. XXXIII. 276 [Illustration] [Illustration] MY LADY NICOTINE. CHAPTER I. MATRIMONY AND SMOKING COMPARED. The circumstances in which I gave up smoking were these: I was a mere bachelor, drifting toward what I now see to be a tragic middle age. I had become so accustomed to smoke issuing from my mouth that I felt incomplete without it; indeed, the time came when I could refrain from smoking if doing nothing else, but hardly during the hours of toil. To lay aside my pipe was to find myself soon afterward wandering restlessly round my table. No blind beggar was ever more abjectly led by his dog, or more loath to cut the string. I am much better without tobacco, and already have a difficulty in sympathizing with the man I used to be. Even to call him up, as it were, and regard him without prejudice is a difficult task, for we forget the old selves on whom we have turned our backs, as we forget a street that has been reconstructed. Does the freed slave always shiver at the crack of a whip? I fancy not, for I recall but dimly, and without acute suffering, the horrors of my smoking days. There were nights when I awoke with a pain at my heart that made me hold my breath. I did not dare move. After perhaps ten minutes of dread, I would shift my position an inch at a time. Less frequently I felt this sting in the daytime, and believed I was dying while my friends were talking to me. I never mentioned these experiences to a human being; indeed, though a medical man was among my companions, I cunningly deceived him on the rare occasions when he questioned me about the amount of tobacco I was consuming weekly. Often in the dark I not only vowed to give up smoking, but wondered why I cared for it. Next morning I went straight from breakfast to my pipe, without the smallest struggle with myself. Latterly I knew, while resolving to break myself of the habit, that I would be better employed trying to sleep. I had elaborate ways of cheating myself, but it became disagreeable to me to know how many ounces of tobacco I was smoking weekly. Often I smoked cigarettes to reduce the number of my cigars. On the other hand, if these sharp pains be excepted, I felt quite well. My appetite was as good as it is now, and I worked as cheerfully and certainly harder. To some slight extent, I believe, I experienced the same pains in my boyhood, before I smoked, and I am not an absolute stranger to them yet. They were most frequent in my smoking days, but I have no other reason for charging them to tobacco. Possibly a doctor who was himself a smoker would have pooh-poohed them. Nevertheless, I have lighted my pipe, and then, as I may say, hearkened for them. At the first intimation that they were coming I laid the pipe down and ceased to smoke--until they had passed. I will not admit that, once sure it was doing me harm, I could not, unaided, have given up tobacco. But I was reluctant to make sure. I should like to say that I left off smoking because I considered it a mean form of slavery, to be condemned for moral as well as physical reasons; but though now I clearly see the folly of smoking, I was blind to it for some months after I had smoked my last pipe. I gave up my most delightful solace, as I regarded it, for no other reason than that the lady who was willing to fling herself away on me said that I must choose between it and her. This deferred our marriage for six months. I have now come, as those who read will see, to look upon smoking with my wife's eyes. My old bachelor friends complain because I do not allow smoking in the house, but I am always ready to explain my position, and I have not an atom of pity for them. If I cannot smoke here neither shall they. When I visit them in the old inn they take a poor revenge by blowing rings of smoke almost in my face. This ambition to blow rings is the most ignoble known to man. Once I was a member of a club for smokers, where we practised blowing rings. The most successful got a box of cigars as a prize at the end of the year. Those were days! Often I think wistfully of them. We met in a cozy room off the Strand. How well I can picture it still. Time-tables lying everywhere, with which we could light our pipes. Some smoked clays, but for the Arcadia Mixture give me a brier. My brier was the sweetest ever known. It is strange now to recall a time when a pipe seemed to be my best friend. My present state is so happy that I can only look back with wonder at my hesitation to enter upon it. Our house was taken while I was still arguing that it would be dangerous to break myself of smoking all at once. At that time my ideal of married life was not what it is now, and I remember Jimmy's persuading me to fix on this house, because the large room upstairs with the three windows was a smoker's dream. He pictured himself and me there in the summer-time blowing rings, with our coats off and our feet out at the windows; and he said that the closet at the back looking on to a blank wall would make a charming drawing-room for my wife. For the moment his enthusiasm carried me away, but I see now how selfish it was, and I have before me the face of Jimmy when he paid us his first visit and found that the closet was not the drawing-room. Jimmy is a fair specimen of a man, not without parts, destroyed by devotion to his pipe. To this day he thinks that mantelpiece vases are meant for holding pipe-lights in. We are almost certain that when he stays with us he smokes in his bedroom--a detestable practice that I cannot permit. [Illustration] Two cigars a day at ninepence apiece come to _£27 7s. 6d._ yearly, and four ounces of tobacco a week at nine shillings a pound come to _£5 17s._ yearly. That makes _£33 4s. 6d._ When we calculate the yearly expense of tobacco in this way, we are naturally taken aback, and our extravagance shocks us more after we have considered how much more satisfactorily the money might have been spent. With _£33 4s. 6d._ you can buy new Oriental rugs for the drawing-room, as well as a spring bonnet and a nice dress. These are things that give permanent pleasure, whereas you have no interest in a cigar after flinging away the stump. Judging by myself, I should say that it was want of thought rather than selfishness that makes heavy smokers of so many bachelors. Once a man marries, his eyes are opened to many things that he was quite unaware of previously, among them being the delight of adding an article of furniture to the drawing-room every month, and having a bedroom in pink and gold, the door of which is always kept locked. If men would only consider that every cigar they smoke would buy part of a new piano-stool in terra-cotta plush, and that for every pound tin of tobacco purchased away goes a vase for growing dead geraniums in, they would surely hesitate. They do not consider, however, until they marry, and then they are forced to it. For my own part, I fail to see why bachelors should be allowed to smoke as much as they like, when we are debarred from it. [Illustration] The very smell of tobacco is abominable, for one cannot get it out of the curtains, and there is little pleasure in existence unless the curtains are all right. As for a cigar after dinner, it only makes you dull and sleepy and disinclined for ladies' society. A far more delightful way of spending the evening is to go straight from dinner to the drawing-room and have a little music. It calms the mind to listen to your wife's niece singing, "Oh, that we two were Maying!" Even if you are not musical, as is the case with me, there is a great deal in the drawing-room to refresh you. There are the Japanese fans on the wall, which are things of beauty, though your artistic taste may not be sufficiently educated to let you know it except by hearsay; and it is pleasant to feel that they were bought with money which, in the foolish old days, would have been squandered on a box of cigars. In like manner every pretty trifle in the room reminds you how much wiser you are now than you used to be. It is even gratifying to stand in summer at the drawing-room window and watch the very cabbies passing with cigars in their mouths. At the same time, if I had the making of the laws I would prohibit people's smoking in the street. If they are married men, they are smoking drawing-room fire-screens and mantelpiece borders for the pink-and-gold room. If they are bachelors, it is a scandal that bachelors should get the best of everything. Nothing is more pitiable than the way some men of my acquaintance enslave themselves to tobacco. Nay, worse, they make an idol of some one particular tobacco. I know a man who considers a certain mixture so superior to all others that he will walk three miles for it. Surely every one will admit that this is lamentable. It is not even a good mixture, for I used to try it occasionally; and if there is one man in London who knows tobaccoes it is myself. There is only one mixture in London deserving the adjective superb. I will not say where it is to be got, for the result would certainly be that many foolish men would smoke more than ever; but I never knew anything to compare to it. It is deliciously mild yet full of fragrance, and it never burns the tongue. If you try it once you smoke it ever afterward. It clears the brain and soothes the temper. When I went away for a holiday anywhere I took as much of that exquisite health-giving mixture as I thought would last me the whole time, but I always ran out of it. Then I telegraphed to London for more, and was miserable until it arrived. How I tore the lid off the canister! That is a tobacco to live for. But I am better without it. Occasionally I feel a little depressed after dinner still, without being able to say why, and if my wife has left me, I wander about the room restlessly, like one who misses something. Usually, however, she takes me with her to the drawing-room, and reads aloud her delightfully long home-letters or plays soft music to me. If the music be sweet and sad it takes me away to a stair in an inn, which I climb gayly, and shake open a heavy door on the top floor, and turn up the gas. It is a little room I am in once again, and very dusty. A pile of papers and magazines stands as high as a table in the corner furthest from the door. The cane chair shows the exact shape of Marriot's back. What is left (after lighting the fire) of a frame picture lies on the hearth-rug. Gilray walks in uninvited. He has left word that his visitors are to be sent on to me. The room fills. My hand feels along the mantelpiece for a brown jar. The jar is between my knees; I fill my pipe.... After a time the music ceases, and my wife puts her hand on my shoulder. Perhaps I start a little, and then she says I have been asleep. This is the book of my dreams. [Illustration] CHAPTER II. MY FIRST CIGAR. [Illustration] It was not in my chambers, but three hundred miles further north, that I learned to smoke. I think I may say with confidence that a first cigar was never smoked in such circumstances before. At that time I was a school-boy, living with my brother, who was a man. People mistook our relations, and thought I was his son. They would ask me how my father was, and when he heard of this he scowled at me. Even to this day I look so young that people who remember me as a boy now think I must be that boy's younger brother. I shall tell presently of a strange mistake of this kind, but at present I am thinking of the evening when my brother's eldest daughter was born--perhaps the most trying evening he and I ever passed together. So far as I knew, the affair was very sudden, and I felt sorry for my brother as well as for myself. We sat together in the study, he on an arm-chair drawn near the fire and I on the couch. I cannot say now at what time I began to have an inkling that there was something wrong. It came upon me gradually and made me very uncomfortable, though of course I did not show this. I heard people going up and down stairs, but I was not at that time naturally suspicious. Comparatively early in the evening I felt that my brother had something on his mind. As a rule, when we were left together, he yawned or drummed with his fingers on the arm of his chair to show that he did not feel uncomfortable, or I made a pretence of being at ease by playing with the dog or saying that the room was close. Then one of us would rise, remark that he had left his book in the dining-room, and go away to look for it, taking care not to come back till the other had gone. In this crafty way we helped each other. On that occasion, however, he did not adopt any of the usual methods, and though I went up to my bedroom several times and listened through the wall, I heard nothing. At last some one told me not to go upstairs, and I returned to the study, feeling that I now knew the worst. He was still in the arm-chair, and I again took to the couch. I could see by the way he looked at me over his pipe that he was wondering whether I knew anything. I don't think I ever liked my brother better than on that night; and I wanted him to understand that, whatever happened, it would make no difference between us. But the affair upstairs was too delicate to talk of, and all I could do was to try to keep his mind from brooding on it, by making him tell me things about politics. This is the kind of man my brother is. He is an astonishing master of facts, and I suppose he never read a book yet, from a Blue Book to a volume of verse, without catching the author in error about something. He reads books for that purpose. As a rule I avoided argument with him, because he was disappointed if I was right and stormed if I was wrong. It was therefore a dangerous thing to begin on politics, but I thought the circumstances warranted it. To my surprise he answered me in a rambling manner, occasionally breaking off in the middle of a sentence and seeming to listen for something. I tried him on history, and mentioned 1822 as the date of the battle of Waterloo, merely to give him his opportunity. But he let it pass. After that there was silence. By and by he rose from his chair, apparently to leave the room, and then sat down again, as if he had thought better of it. He did this several times, always eying me narrowly. Wondering how I could make it easier for him, I took up a book and pretended to read with deep attention, meaning to show him that he could go away if he liked without my noticing it. At last he jumped up, and, looking at me boldly, as if to show that the house was his and he could do what he liked in it, went heavily from the room. As soon as he was gone I laid down my book. I was now in a state of nervous excitement, though outwardly I was quite calm. I took a look at him as he went up the stairs, and noticed that he had slipped off his shoes on the bottom step. All haughtiness had left him now. [Illustration] In a little while he came back. He found me reading. He lighted his pipe and pretended to read too. I shall never forget that my book was "Anne Judge, Spinster," while his was a volume of "Blackwood." Every five minutes his pipe went out, and sometimes the book lay neglected on his knee as he stared at the fire. Then he would go out for five minutes and come back again. It was late now, and I felt that I should like to go to my bedroom and lock myself in. That, however, would have been selfish; so we sat on defiantly. At last he started from his chair as some one knocked at the door. I heard several people talking, and then loud above their voices a younger one. [Illustration] When I came to myself, the first thing I thought was that they would ask me to hold it. Then I remembered, with another sinking at the heart, that they might want to call it after me. These, of course, were selfish reflections; but my position was a trying one. The question was, what was the proper thing for me to do? I told myself that my brother might come back at any moment, and all I thought of after that was what I should say to him. I had an idea that I ought to congratulate him, but it seemed a brutal thing to do. I had not made up my mind when I heard him coming down. He was laughing and joking in what seemed to me a flippant kind of way, considering the circumstances. When his hand touched the door I snatched at my book and read as hard as I could. He was swaggering a little as he entered, but the swagger went out of him as soon as his eye fell on me. I fancy he had come down to tell me, and now he did not know how to begin. He walked up and down the room restlessly, looking at me as he walked the one way, while I looked at him as he walked the other way. At length he sat down again and took up his book. He did not try to smoke. The silence was something terrible; nothing was to be heard but an occasional cinder falling from the grate. This lasted, I should say, for twenty minutes, and then he closed his book and flung it on the table. I saw that the game was up, and closed "Anne Judge, Spinster." Then he said, with affected jocularity: "Well, young man, do you know that you are an uncle?" There was silence again, for I was still trying to think out some appropriate remark. After a time I said, in a weak voice. "Boy or girl?" "Girl," he answered. Then I thought hard again, and all at once remembered something. "Both doing well?" I whispered. "Yes," he said sternly. I felt that something great was expected of me, but I could not jump up and wring his hand. I was an uncle. I stretched out my arm toward the cigar-box, and firmly lighted my first cigar. [Illustration] CHAPTER III. THE ARCADIA MIXTURE. [Illustration] Darkness comes, and with it the porter to light our stair gas. He vanishes into his box. Already the inn is so quiet that the tap of a pipe on a window-sill startles all the sparrows in the quadrangle. The men on my stair emerged from their holes. Scrymgeour, in a dressing-gown, pushes open the door of the boudoir on the first floor, and climbs lazily. The sentimental face and the clay with a crack in it are Marriot's. Gilray, who has been rehearsing his part in the new original comedy from the Icelandic, ceases muttering and feels his way along his dark lobby. Jimmy pins a notice on his door, "Called away on business," and crosses to me. Soon we are all in the old room again, Jimmy on the hearth-rug, Marriot in the cane chair; the curtains are pinned together with a pen-nib, and the five of us are smoking the Arcadia Mixture. Pettigrew will be welcomed if he comes, but he is a married man, and we seldom see him nowadays. Others will be regarded as intruders. If they are smoking common tobaccoes, they must either be allowed to try ours or requested to withdraw. One need only put his head in at my door to realize that tobaccoes are of two kinds, the Arcadia and others. No one who smokes the Arcadia would ever attempt to describe its delights, for his pipe would be certain to go out. When he was at school, Jimmy Moggridge smoked a cane chair, and he has since said that from cane to ordinary mixtures was not so noticeable as the change from ordinary mixtures to the Arcadia. I ask no one to believe this, for the confirmed smoker in Arcadia detests arguing with anybody about anything. Were I anxious to prove Jimmy's statement, I would merely give you the only address at which the Arcadia is to be had. But that I will not do. It would be as rash as proposing a man with whom I am unacquainted for my club. You may not be worthy to smoke the Arcadia Mixture. [Illustration] Even though I became attached to you, I might not like to take the responsibility of introducing you to the Arcadia. This mixture has an extraordinary effect upon character, and probably you want to remain as you are. Before I discovered the Arcadia, and communicated it to the other five--including Pettigrew--we had all distinct individualities, but now, except in appearance--and the Arcadia even tells on that--we are as like as holly leaves. We have the same habits, the same ways of looking at things, the same satisfaction in each other. No doubt we are not yet absolutely alike, indeed I intend to prove this, but in given circumstances we would probably do the same thing, and, furthermore, it would be what other people would not do. Thus when we are together we are only to be distinguished by our pipes; but any one of us in the company of persons who smoke other tobaccoes would be considered highly original. He would be a pigtail in Europe. [Illustration] If you meet in company a man who has ideas and is not shy, yet refuses absolutely to be drawn into talk, you may set him down as one of us. Among the first effects of the Arcadia is to put an end to jabber. Gilray had at one time the reputation of being such a brilliant talker that Arcadians locked their doors on him, but now he is a man that can be invited anywhere. The Arcadia is entirely responsible for the change. Perhaps I myself am the most silent of our company, and hostesses usually think me shy. They ask ladies to draw me out, and when the ladies find me as hopeless as a sulky drawer, they call me stupid. The charge may be true, but I do not resent it, for I smoke the Arcadia Mixture, and am consequently indifferent to abuse. I willingly gibbet myself to show how reticent the Arcadia makes us. It happens that I have a connection with Nottingham, and whenever a man mentions Nottingham to me, with a certain gleam in his eye, I know that he wants to discuss the lace trade. But it is a curious fact that the aggressive talker constantly mixes up Nottingham and Northampton. "Oh, you know Nottingham," he says, interestedly; "and how do you like Labouchere for a member?" Do you think I put him right? Do you imagine me thirsting to tell that Mr. Labouchere is the Christian member for Northampton? Do you suppose me swift to explain that Mr. Broadhurst is one of the Nottingham members, and that the "Nottingham lambs" are notorious in the history of political elections? Do you fancy me explaining that he is quite right in saying that Nottingham has a large market-place? Do you see me drawn into half an hour's talk about Robin Hood? That is not my way. I merely reply that we like Mr. Labouchere pretty well. It may be said that I gain nothing by this; that the talker will be as curious about Northampton as he would have been about Nottingham, and that Bradlaugh and Labouchere and boots will serve his turn quite as well as Broadhurst and lace and Robin Hood. But that is not so. Beginning on Northampton in the most confident manner, it suddenly flashes across him that he has mistaken Northampton for Nottingham. "How foolish of me!" he says. I maintain a severe silence. He is annoyed. My experience of talkers tells me that nothing annoys them so much as a blunder of this kind. From the coldly polite way in which I have taken the talker's remarks, he discovers the value I put upon them, and after that, if he has a neighbor on the other side, he leaves me alone. Enough has been said to show that the Arcadian's golden rule is to be careful about what he says. This does not mean that he is to say nothing. As society is at present constituted you are bound to make an occasional remark. But you need not make it rashly. It has been said somewhere that it would be well for talkative persons to count twenty, or to go over the alphabet, before they let fall the observation that trembles on their lips. The non-talker has no taste for such an unintellectual exercise. At the same time he must not hesitate too long, for, of course, it is to his advantage to introduce the subject. He ought to think out a topic of which his neighbor will not be able to make very much. To begin on the fall of snow, or the number of tons of turkeys consumed on Christmas Day, as stated in the _Daily Telegraph_, is to deserve your fate. If you are at a dinner-party of men only, take your host aside, and in a few well-considered sentences find out from him what kind of men you are to sit between during dinner. Perhaps one of them is an African traveller. A knowledge of this prevents your playing into his hands, by remarking that the papers are full of the relief of Emin Pasha. These private inquiries will also save you from talking about Mr. Chamberlain to a neighbor who turns out to be the son of a Birmingham elector. Allow that man his chance, and he will not only give you the Birmingham gossip, but what individual electors said about Mr. Chamberlain to the banker or the tailor, and what the grocer did the moment the poll was declared, with particulars about the antiquity of Birmingham and the fishing to be had in the neighborhood. What you ought to do is to talk about Emin Pasha to this man, and to the traveller about Mr. Chamberlain, taking care, of course, to speak in a low voice. In that way you may have comparative peace. Everything, however, depends on the calibre of your neighbors. If they agree to look upon you as an honorable antagonist, and so to fight fair, the victory will be to him who deserves it; that is to say, to the craftier man of the two. But talkers, as a rule, do not fight fair. They consider silent men their prey. It will thus be seen that I distinguish between talkers, admitting that some of them are worse than others. The lowest in the social scale is he who stabs you in the back, as it were, instead of crossing swords. If one of the gentlemen introduced to you is of that type, he will not be ashamed to say, "Speaking of Emin Pasha, I wonder if Mr. Chamberlain is interested in the relief expedition. I don't know if I told you that my father----" and there he is, fairly on horseback. It is seldom of any use to tempt him into other channels. Better turn to your traveller and let him describe the different routes to Egyptian Equatorial Provinces, with his own views thereon. Allow him even to draw a map of Africa with a fork on the table-cloth. A talker of this kind is too full of his subject to insist upon answering questions, so that he does not trouble you much. It is his own dinner that is spoiled rather than yours. Treat in the same way as the Chamberlain talker the man who sits down beside you and begins, "Remarkable man, Mr. Gladstone." There was a ventilator in my room, which sometimes said "Crik-crik!" reminding us that no one had spoken for an hour. Occasionally, however, we had lapses of speech, when Gilray might tell over again--though not quite as I mean to tell it--the story of his first pipeful of the Arcadia, or Scrymgeour, the travelled man, would give us the list of famous places in Europe where he had smoked. But, as a rule, none of us paid much attention to what the others said, and after the last pipe the room emptied--unless Marriot insisted on staying behind to bore me with his scruples--by first one and then another putting his pipe into his pocket and walking silently out of the room. [Illustration] CHAPTER IV. MY PIPES. In a select company of scoffers my brier was known as the Mermaid. The mouth-piece was a cigarette-holder, and months of unwearied practice were required before you found the angle at which the bowl did not drop off. [Illustration] This brings me to one of the many advantages that my brier had over all other pipes. It has given me a reputation for gallantry, to which without it I fear I could lay no claim. I used to have a passion for repartee, especially in the society of ladies. But it is with me as with many other men of parts whose wit has ever to be fired by a long fuse: my best things strike me as I wend my way home. This embittered my early days; and not till the pride of youth had been tamed could I stop to lay in a stock of repartee on likely subjects the night before. Then my pipe helped me. It was the apparatus that carried me to my prettiest compliment. Having exposed my pipe in some prominent place where it could hardly escape notice, I took measures for insuring a visit from a lady, young, graceful, accomplished. Or I might have it ready for a chance visitor. On her arrival, I conducted her to a seat near my pipe. It is not good to hurry on to the repartee at once; so I talked for a time of the weather, the theatres, the new novel. I kept my eye on her; and by and by she began to look about her. She observed the strange-looking pipe. Now is the critical moment. It is possible that she may pass it by without remark, in which case all is lost; but experience has shown me that four times out of six she touches it in assumed horror, to pass some humorous remark. Off tumbles the bowl. "Oh," she exclaims, "see what I have done! I am so sorry!" I pull myself together. "Madame," I reply calmly, and bowing low, "what else was to be expected? You came near my pipe--and it lost its head." She blushes, but cannot help being pleased; and I set my pipe for the next visitor. By the help of a note-book, of course, I guarded myself against paying this very neat compliment to any person more than once. However, after I smoked the Arcadia the desire to pay ladies compliments went from me. Journeying back into the past, I come to a time when my pipe had a mouth-piece of fine amber. The bowl and the rest of the stem were of brier, but it was a gentlemanly pipe, without silver mountings. Such tobacco I revelled in as may have filled the pouch of Pan as he lay smoking on the mountain-sides. Once I saw a beautiful woman with brown hair, in and out of which the rays of a morning sun played hide-and-seek, that might not unworthily have been compared to it. Beguiled by the exquisite Arcadia, the days and the years passed from me in delicate rings of smoke, and I contentedly watched them sailing to the skies. How continuous was the line of those lovely circles, and how straight! One could have passed an iron rod through them from end to end. But one day I had a harsh awakening. I bit the amber mouth-piece of my pipe through, and life was never the same again. It is strange how attached we become to old friends, though they be but inanimate objects. The old pipe put aside, I turned to a meerschaum, which had been presented to me years before, with the caution that I must not smoke it unless I wore kid gloves. There was no savor in that pipe for me. I tried another brier, and it made me unhappy. Clays would not keep in with me. It seemed as if they knew I was hankering after the old pipe, and went out in disgust. Then I got a new amber mouth-piece for my first love. In a week I had bitten that through too, and in an over-anxious attempt to file off the ragged edges I broke the screw. Moralists have said that the smoker who has no thought but for his pipe never breaks it; that it is he only who while smoking concentrates his mind on some less worthy object that sends his teeth through the amber. This may be so; for I am a philosopher, and when working out new theories I may have been careless even of that which inspired them most. After this second accident nothing went well with me or with my pipe. I took the mouthpieces out of other pipes and fixed them on to the Mermaid. In a little while one of them became too wide; another broke as I was screwing it more firmly in. Then the bowl cracked at the rim and split at the bottom. This was an annoyance until I found out what was wrong and plugged up the fissures with sealing-wax. The wax melted and dropped upon my clothes after a time; but it was easily renewed. It was now that I had the happy thought of bringing a cigarette-holder to my assistance. But of course one cannot make a pipe-stem out of a cigarette-holder all at once. The thread you wind round the screw has a disappointing way of coming undone, when down falls the bowl, with an escape of sparks. Twisting a piece of paper round the screw is an improvement; but, until you have acquired the knack, the operation has to be renewed every time you relight your pipe. This involves a sad loss of time, and in my case it afforded a butt for the dull wit of visitors. Otherwise I found it satisfactory, and I was soon astonishingly adept at making paper screws. Eventually my brier became as serviceable as formerly, though not, perhaps, so handsome. I fastened on the holder with sealing-wax, and often a week passed without my having to renew the joint. It was no easy matter lighting a pipe like mine, especially when I had no matches. I always meant to buy a number of boxes, but somehow I put off doing it. Occasionally I found a box of vestas on my mantelpiece, which some caller had left there by mistake, or sympathizing, perhaps, with my case; but they were such a novelty that I never felt quite at home with them. Generally I remembered they were there just after my pipe was lighted. When I kept them in mind and looked forward to using them, they were at the other side of the room, and it would have been a pity to get up for them. Besides, the most convenient medium for lighting one's pipe is paper, after all; and if you have not an old envelope in your pocket, there is probably a photograph standing on the mantelpiece. It is convenient to have the magazines lying handy; or a page from a book--hand-made paper burns beautifully--will do. To be sure, there is the lighting of your paper. For this your lamp is practically useless, standing in the middle of the table, while you are in an easy-chair by the fireside; and as for the tape-and-spark contrivance, it is the introduction of machinery into the softest joys of life. The fire is best. It is near you, and you drop your burning spill into it with a minimum waste of energy. The proper fire for pipes is one in a cheerful blaze. If your spill is carelessly constructed the flame runs up into your fingers before you know what you are doing, so that it is as well to marry and get your wife to make spills for you. Before you begin to smoke, scatter these about the fireplace. Then you will be able to reach them without rising. The irritating fire is the one that has burned low--when the coals are more than half cinders, and cling to each other in fear of death. With such a fire it is no use attempting to light a pipe all at once. Your better course now is to drop little bits of paper into the likely places in the fire, and have a spill ready to apply to the one that lights first. It is an anxious moment, for they may merely shrivel up sullenly without catching fire, and in that case some men lose their tempers. Bad to lose your temper over your pipe---- [Illustration] No pipe really ever rivalled the brier in my affections, though I can recall a mad month when I fell in love with two little meerschaums, which I christened Romulus and Remus. They lay together in one case in Regent Street, and it was with difficulty that I could pass the shop without going in. Often I took side streets to escape their glances, but at last I asked the price. It startled me, and I hurried home to the brier. I forget when it was that a sort of compromise struck me. This was that I should present the pipes to my brother as a birthday gift. Did I really mean to do this, or was I only trying to cheat my conscience? Who can tell? I hurried again into Regent Street. There they were, more beautiful than ever. I hovered about the shop for quite half an hour that day. My indecision and vacillation were pitiful. Buttoning up my coat, I would rush from the window, only to find myself back again in five minutes. Sometimes I had my hand on the shop door. Then I tore it away and hurried into Oxford Street. Then I slunk back again. Self whispered, "Buy them--for your brother." Conscience said, "Go home." At last I braced myself up for a magnificent effort, and jumped into a 'bus bound for London Bridge. This saved me for the time. [Illustration] I now began to calculate how I could become owner of the meerschaums--prior to dispatching them by parcel-post to my brother--without paying for them. That was my way of putting it. I calculated that by giving up my daily paper I should save thirteen shillings in six months. After all, why should I take in a daily paper? To read through columns of public speeches and police cases and murders in Paris is only to squander valuable time. Now, when I left home I promised my father not to waste my time. My father had been very good to me; why, then, should I do that which I had promised him not to do? Then, again, there were the theatres. During the past six months I had spent several pounds on theatres. Was this right? My mother, who has never, I think, been in a theatre, strongly advised me against frequenting such places. I did not take this much to heart at the time. Theatres did not seem to me to be immoral. But, after all, my mother is older than I am; and who am I, to set my views up against hers? By avoiding the theatres for the next six months, I am (already), say, three pounds to the good. I had been frittering away my money, too, on luxuries; and luxuries are effeminate. Thinking the matter over temperately and calmly in that way, I saw that I should be thoughtfully saving money, instead of spending it, by buying Romulus and Remus, as I already called them. At the same time, I should be gratifying my father and my mother, and leading a higher and a nobler life. Even then I do not know that I should have bought the pipes until the six months were up, had I not been driven to it by jealousy. On my life, love for a pipe is ever like love for a woman, though they say it is not so acute. Many a man thinks there is no haste to propose until he sees a hated rival approaching. Even if he is not in a hurry for the lady himself, he loathes the idea of her giving herself, in a moment of madness, to that other fellow. Rather than allow that, he proposes himself, and so insures her happiness. It was so with me. Romulus and Remus were taken from the window to show to a black-bearded, swarthy man, whom I suspected of designs upon them the moment he entered the shop. Ah, the agony of waiting until he came out! He was not worthy of them. I never knew how much I loved them until I had nearly lost them. As soon as he was gone I asked if he had priced them, and was told that he had. He was to call again to-morrow. I left a deposit of a guinea, hurried home for more money, and that night Romulus and Remus were mine. But I never really loved them as I loved my brier. [Illustration] CHAPTER V. MY TOBACCO-POUCH. [Illustration] I once knew a lady who said of her husband that he looked nice when sitting with a rug over him. My female relatives seemed to have the same opinion of my tobacco-pouch; for they never saw it, even in my own room, without putting a book or pamphlet over it. They called it "that thing," and made tongs of their knitting-needles to lift it; and when I indignantly returned it to my pocket, they raised their hands to signify that I would not listen to reason. It seemed to come natural to other persons to present me with new tobacco-pouches, until I had nearly a score lying neglected in drawers. But I am not the man to desert an old friend that has been with me everywhere and thoroughly knows my ways. Once, indeed, I came near to being unfaithful to my tobacco-pouch, and I mean to tell how--partly as a punishment to myself. [Illustration] The incident took place several years ago. Gilray and I had set out on a walking tour of the Shakespeare country; but we separated at Stratford, which was to be our starting-point, because he would not wait for me. I am more of a Shakespearian student than Gilray, and Stratford affected me so much that I passed day after day smoking reverently at the hotel door; while he, being of the pure tourist type (not that I would say a word against Gilray), wanted to rush from one place of interest to another. He did not understand what thoughts came to me as I strolled down the Stratford streets; and in the hotel, when I lay down on the sofa, he said I was sleeping, though I was really picturing to myself Shakespeare's boyhood. Gilray even went the length of arguing that it would not be a walking tour at all if we never made a start; so, upon the whole, I was glad when he departed alone. The next day was a memorable one to me. In the morning I wrote to my London tobacconist for more Arcadia. I had quarrelled with both of the Stratford tobacconists. The one of them, as soon as he saw my tobacco-pouch, almost compelled me to buy a new one. The second was even more annoying. I paid with a half-sovereign for the tobacco I had got from him; but after gazing at the pouch he became suspicious of the coin, and asked if I could not pay him in silver. An insult to my pouch I considered an insult to myself; so I returned to those shops no more. The evening of the day on which I wrote to London for tobacco brought me a letter from home saying that my sister was seriously ill. I had left her in good health, so that the news was the more distressing. Of course I returned home by the first train. Sitting alone in a dull railway compartment, my heart was filled with tenderness, and I recalled the occasions on which I had carelessly given her pain. Suddenly I remembered that more than once she had besought me with tears in her eyes to fling away my old tobacco-pouch. She had always said that it was not respectable. In the bitterness of self-reproach I pulled the pouch from my pocket, asking myself whether, after all, the love of a good woman was not a far more precious possession. Without giving myself time to hesitate, I stood up and firmly cast my old pouch out at the window. I saw it fall at the foot of a fence. The train shot on. [Illustration] [Illustration] By the time I reached home my sister had been pronounced out of danger. Of course I was much relieved to hear it, but at the same time this was a lesson to me not to act rashly. The retention of my tobacco-pouch would not have retarded her recovery, and I could not help picturing my pouch, my oldest friend in the world, lying at the foot of that fence. I saw that I had done wrong in casting it from me. I had not even the consolation of feeling that if any one found it he would cherish it, for it was so much damaged that I knew it could never appeal to a new owner as it appealed to me. I had intended telling my sister of the sacrifice made for her sake; but after seeing her so much better, I left the room without doing so. There was Arcadia Mixture in the house, but I had not the heart to smoke. I went early to bed, and fell into a troubled sleep, from which I awoke with a shiver. The rain was driving against my window, tapping noisily on it as if calling on me to awake and go back for my tobacco-pouch. It rained far on into the morning, and I lay miserably, seeing nothing before me but a wet fence, and a tobacco-pouch among the grass at the foot of it. On the following afternoon I was again at Stratford. So far as I could remember, I had flung away the pouch within a few miles of the station; but I did not look for it until dusk. I felt that the porters had their eyes on me. By crouching along hedges I at last reached the railway a mile or two from the station, and began my search. It may be thought that the chances were against my finding the pouch; but I recovered it without much difficulty. The scene as I flung my old friend out at the window had burned itself into my brain, and I could go to the spot to-day as readily as I went on that occasion. There it was, lying among the grass, but not quite in the place where it had fallen. Apparently some navvy had found it, looked at it, and then dropped it. It was half-full of water, and here and there it was sticking together; but I took it up tenderly, and several times on the way back to the station I felt in my pocket to make sure that it was really there. [Illustration] I have not described the appearance of my pouch, feeling that to be unnecessary. It never, I fear, quite recovered from its night in the rain, and as my female relatives refused to touch it, I had to sew it together now and then myself. Gilray used to boast of a way of mending a hole in a tobacco-pouch that was better than sewing. You put the two pieces of gutta-percha close together and then cut them sharply with scissors. This makes them run together, he says, and I believed him until he experimented upon my pouch. However, I did not object to a hole here and there. Wherever I laid that pouch it left a small deposit of tobacco, and thus I could generally get together a pipeful at times when other persons would be destitute. I never told my sister that my pouch was once all but lost, but ever after that, when she complained that I had never even tried to do without it, I smiled tenderly. [Illustration] CHAPTER VI. MY SMOKING-TABLE. [Illustration] Had it not been for a bootblack at Charing Cross I should probably never have bought the smoking-table. I had to pass that boy every morning. In vain did I scowl at him, or pass with my head to the side. He always pointed derisively (as I thought) at my boots. Probably my boots were speckless, but that made no difference; he jeered and sneered. I have never hated any one as I loathed that boy, and to escape him I took to going round by the Lowther Arcade. It was here that my eye fell on the smoking-table. In the Lowther Arcade, if the attendants catch you looking at any article for a fraction of a second, it is done up in brown paper, you have paid your money, and they have taken down your address before you realize that you don't want anything. In this way I became the owner of my smoking-table, and when I saw it in a brown-paper parcel on my return to my chambers I could not think what it was until I cut the strings. Such a little gem of a table no smokers should be without; and I am not ashamed to say that I was in love with mine as soon as I had fixed the pieces together. It was of walnut, and consisted mainly of a stalk and two round slabs not much bigger than dinner-plates. There were holes in the centre of these slabs for the stalk to go through, and the one slab stood two feet from the floor, the other a foot higher. The lower slab was fitted with a walnut tobacco-jar and a pipe-rack, while on the upper slab were exquisite little recesses for cigars, cigarettes, matches, and ashes. These held respectively three cigars, two cigarettes, and four wax vestas. The smoking-table was an ornament to any room; and the first night I had it I raised my eyes from my book to look at it every few minutes. I got all my pipes together and put them in the rack; I filled the jar with tobacco, the recesses with three cigars, two cigarettes, and four matches; and then I thought I would have a smoke. I swept my hand confidently along the mantelpiece, but it did not stop at a pipe. I rose and looked for a pipe. I had half a dozen, but not one was to be seen--none on the mantelpiece, none on the window-sill, none on the hearth-rug, none being used as book-markers. I tugged at the bell till William John came in quaking, and then I asked him fiercely what he had done with my pipes. I was so obviously not to be trifled with that William John, as we called him, because some thought his name was William, while others thought it was John, very soon handed me my favorite pipe, which he found in the rack on the smoking-table. This incident illustrates one of the very few drawbacks of smoking-tables. Not being used to them, you forget about them. William John, however, took the greatest pride in the table, and whenever he saw a pipe lying on the rug he pounced upon it and placed it, like a prisoner, in the rack. He was also most particular about the three cigars, the two cigarettes, and the four wax vestas, keeping them carefully in the proper compartments, where, unfortunately, I seldom thought of looking for them. [Illustration] The fatal defect of the smoking-table, however, was that it was generally rolling about the floor--the stalk in one corner, the slabs here and there, the cigars on the rug to be trampled on, the lid of the tobacco-jar beneath a chair. Every morning William John had to put the table together. Sometimes I had knocked it over accidentally. I would fling a crumpled piece of paper into the waste-paper basket. It missed the basket but hit the smoking-table, which went down like a wooden soldier. When my fire went out, just because I had taken my eyes off it for a moment, I called it names and flung the tongs at it. There was a crash--the smoking-table again. In time I might have remedied this; but there is one weakness which I could not stand in any smoking-table. A smoking-table ought to be so constructed that from where you are sitting you can stretch out your feet, twist them round the stalk, and so lift the table to the spot where it will be handiest. This my smoking-table would never do. The moment I had it in the air it wanted to stand on its head. Though I still admired smoking-tables as much as ever, I began to want very much to give this one away. The difficulty was not so much to know whom to give it to as how to tie it up. My brother was the very person, for I owed him a letter, and this, I thought, would do instead. For a month I meant to pack the table up and send it to him; but I always put off doing it, and at last I thought the best plan would be to give it to Scrymgeour, who liked elegant furniture. As a smoker, Scrymgeour seemed the very man to appreciate a pretty, useful little table. Besides, all I had to do was to send William John down with it. Scrymgeour was out at the time; but we left it at the side of his fireplace as a pleasant surprise. Next morning, to my indignation, it was back at the side of my fireplace, and in the evening Scrymgeour came and upbraided me for trying, as he most unworthily expressed it, "to palm the thing off on him." He was no sooner gone than I took the table to pieces to send it to my brother. I tied the stalk up in brown paper, meaning to get a box for the other parts. William John sent off the stalk, and for some days the other pieces littered the floor. My brother wrote me saying he had received something from me, for which his best thanks; but would I tell him what it was, as it puzzled everybody? This was his impatient way; but I made an effort, and sent off the other pieces to him in a hat-box. That was a year ago, and since then I have only heard the history of the smoking-table in fragments. My brother liked it immensely; but he thought it was too luxurious for a married man, so he sent it to Reynolds, in Edinburgh. Not knowing Reynolds, I cannot say what his opinion was; but soon afterward I heard of its being in the possession of Grayson, who was charmed with it, but gave it to Pelle, because it was hardly in its place in a bachelor's establishment. Later a town man sent it to a country gentleman as just the thing for the country; and it was afterward in Liverpool as the very thing for a town. There I thought it was lost, so far as I was concerned. One day, however, Boyd, a friend of mine who lives in Glasgow, came to me for a week, and about six hours afterward he said that he had a present for me. He brought it into my sitting-room--a bulky parcel--and while he was undoing the cords he told me it was something quite novel; he had bought it in Glasgow the day before. When I saw a walnut leg I started; in another two minutes I was trying to thank Boyd for my own smoking-table. I recognized it by the dents. I was too much the gentleman to insist on an explanation from Boyd; but, though it seems a harsh thing to say, my opinion is that these different persons gave the table away because they wanted to get rid of it. William John has it now. [Illustration] CHAPTER VII. GILRAY. [Illustration] Gilray is an actor, whose life I may be said to have strangely influenced, for it was I who brought him and the Arcadia Mixture together. After that his coming to live on our stair was only a matter of rooms being vacant. We met first in the Merediths' house-boat, the _Tawny Owl_, which was then lying at Molesey. Gilray, as I soon saw, was a man trying to be miserable, and finding it the hardest task in life. It is strange that the philosophers have never hit upon this profound truth. No man ever tried harder to be unhappy than Gilray; but the luck was against him, and he was always forgetting himself. Mark Tapley succeeded in being jolly in adverse circumstances; Gilray failed, on the whole, in being miserable in a delightful house-boat. It is, however, so much more difficult to keep up misery than jollity that I like to think of his attempt as what the dramatic critics call a _succès d'estime_. The _Tawny Owl_ lay on the far side of the island. There were ladies in it; and Gilray's misery was meant to date from the moment when he asked one of them a question, and she said "No." Gilray was strangely unlucky during the whole of his time on board. His evil genius was there, though there was very little room for him, and played sad pranks. Up to the time of his asking the question referred to, Gilray meant to create a pleasant impression by being jolly, and he only succeeded in being as depressing as Jaques. Afterward he was to be unutterably miserable; and it was all he could do to keep himself at times from whirling about in waltz tune. But then the nearest boat had a piano on board, and some one was constantly playing dance music. Gilray had an idea that it would have been the proper thing to leave Molesey when she said "No;" and he would have done so had not the barbel-fishing been so good. The barbel-fishing was altogether unfortunate--at least Gilray's passion for it was. I have thought--and so sometimes has Gilray--that if it had not been for a barbel she might not have said "No." He was fishing from the house-boat when he asked the question. You know how you fish from a house-boat. The line is flung into the water and the rod laid down on deck. You keep an eye on it. Barbel-fishing, in fact, reminds one of the independent sort of man who is quite willing to play host to you, but wishes you clearly to understand at the same time that he can do without you. "Glad to see you with us if you have nothing better to do; but please yourself," is what he says to his friends. This is also the form of invitation to barbel. Now it happened that she and Gilray were left alone in the house-boat. It was evening; some Chinese lanterns had been lighted, and Gilray, though you would not think it to look at him, is romantic. He cast his line, and, turning to his companion, asked her the question. From what he has told me he asked it very properly, and all seemed to be going well. She turned away her head (which is said not to be a bad sign) and had begun to reply, when a woful thing happened. The line stiffened, and there was a whirl of the reel. Who can withstand that music? You can ask a question at any time, but, even at Molesey, barbel are only to be got now and then. Gilray rushed to his rod and began playing the fish. He called to his companion to get the landing-net. She did so; and after playing his barbel for ten minutes Gilray landed it. Then he turned to her again, and she said, "No." Gilray sees now that he made a mistake in not departing that night by the last train. He overestimated his strength. However, we had something to do with his staying on, and he persuaded himself that he remained just to show her that she had ruined his life. Once, I believe, he repeated his question; but in reply she only asked him if he had caught any more barbel. Considering the surprisingly fine weather, the barbel-fishing, and the piano on the other boat, Gilray was perhaps as miserable as could reasonably have been expected. Where he ought to have scored best, however, he was most unlucky. She had a hammock swung between two trees, close to the boat, and there she lay, holding a novel in her hand. From the hammock she had a fine view of the deck, and this was Gilray's chance. As soon as he saw her comfortably settled, he pulled a long face and climbed on deck. There he walked up and down, trying to look the image of despair. When she made some remark to him, his plan was to show that, though he answered cordially, his cheerfulness was the result of a terrible inward struggle. He did contrive to accomplish this if he was waiting for her observation; but she sometimes took him unawares, starting a subject in which he was interested. Then, forgetting his character, he would talk eagerly or jest with her across the strip of water, until with a start he remembered what he had become. He would seek to recover himself after that; but of course it was too late to create a really lasting impression. Even when she left him alone, watching him, I fear, over the top of her novel, he disappointed himself. For five minutes or so everything would go well; he looked as dejected as possible; but as he fell he was succeeding he became so self-satisfied that he began to strut. A pleased expression crossed his face, and instead of allowing his head to hang dismally, he put it well back. Sometimes, when we wanted to please him, we said he looked as glum as a mute at a funeral. Even that, however, defeated his object, for it flattered him so much that he smiled with gratification. [Illustration] Gilray made one great sacrifice by giving up smoking, though not indeed such a sacrifice as mine, for up to this time he did not know the Arcadia Mixture. Perhaps the only time he really did look as miserable as he wished was late at night when we men sat up for a second last pipe before turning in. He looked wistfully at us from a corner. Yet as She had gone to rest, cruel fate made this of little account. His gloomy face saddened us too, and we tried to entice him to shame by promising not to mention it to the ladies. He almost yielded, and showed us that while we smoked he had been holding his empty brier in his right hand. For a moment he hesitated, then said fiercely that he did not care for smoking. Next night he was shown a novel, the hero of which had been "refused." Though the lady's hard-heartedness had a terrible effect on this fine fellow, he "strode away blowing great clouds into the air." "Standing there smoking in the moonlight," the authoress says in her next chapter, "De Courcy was a strangely romantic figure. He looked like a man who had done everything, who had been through the furnace and had not come out of it unscathed." This was precisely what Gilray wanted to look like. Again he hesitated, and then put his pipe in his pocket. It was now that I approached him with the Arcadia Mixture. I seldom recommend the Arcadia to men whom I do not know intimately, lest in the after-years I should find them unworthy of it. But just as Aladdin doubtless rubbed his lamp at times for show, there were occasions when I was ostentatiously liberal. If, after trying the Arcadia, the lucky smoker to whom I presented it did not start or seize my hand, or otherwise show that something exquisite had come into his life, I at once forgot his name and his existence. I approached Gilray, then, and without a word handed him my pouch, while the others drew nearer. Nothing was to be heard but the water oozing out and in beneath the house-boat. Gilray pushed the tobacco from him, as he might have pushed a bag of diamonds that he mistook for pebbles. I placed it against his arm, and motioned to the others not to look. Then I sat down beside Gilray, and almost smoked into his eyes. Soon the aroma reached him, and rapture struggled into his face. Slowly his fingers fastened on the pouch. He filled his pipe without knowing what he was doing, and I handed him a lighted spill. He took perhaps three puffs, and then gave me a look of reverence that I know well. It only comes to a man once in all its glory--the first time he tries the Arcadia Mixture--but it never altogether leaves him. "Where do you get it?" Gilray whispered, in hoarse delight. The Arcadia had him for its own. [Illustration] CHAPTER VIII. MARRIOT. [Illustration] I have hinted that Marriot was our sentimental member. He was seldom sentimental until after midnight, and then only when he and I were alone. Why he should have chosen me as the pail into which to pour his troubles I cannot say. I let him talk on, and when he had ended I showed him plainly that I had been thinking most of the time about something else. Whether Marriot was entirely a humbug or the most conscientious person on our stair, readers may decide. He was fond of argument if you did not answer him, and often wanted me to tell him if I thought he was in love; if so, why did I think so; if not, why not. What makes me on reflection fancy that he was sincere is that in his statements he would let his pipe go out. Of course I cannot give his words, but he would wait till all my other guests had gone, then softly lock the door, and returning to the cane chair empty himself in some such way as this: "I have something I want to talk to you about. Pass me a spill. Well, it is this. Before I came to your rooms to-night I was cleaning my pipe, when all at once it struck me that I might be in love. This is the kind of shock that pulls a man up and together. My first thought was, if it be love, well and good; I shall go on. As a gentleman I know my duty both to her and to myself. At present, however, I am not certain which she is. In love there are no degrees; of that at least I feel positive. It is a tempestuous, surging passion, or it is nothing. The question for me, therefore, is, Is this the beginning of a tempestuous, surging passion? But stop; does such a passion have a beginning? Should it not be in flood before we know what we are about? I don't want you to answer. [Illustration] "One of my difficulties is that I cannot reason from experience. I cannot say to myself, During the spring of 1886, and again in October, 1888, your breast has known the insurgence of a tempestuous passion. Do you now note the same symptoms? Have you experienced a sudden sinking at the heart, followed by thrills of exultation? Now I cannot even say that my appetite has fallen off, but I am smoking more than ever, and it is notorious that I experience sudden chills and thrills. Is this passion? No, I am not done; I have only begun. [Illustration] "In 'As You Like It,' you remember, the love symptoms are described at length. But is _Rosalind_ to be taken seriously? Besides, though she wore boy's clothes, she had only the woman's point of view. I have consulted Stevenson's chapters on love in his delightful 'Virginibus Puerisque,' and one of them says, 'Certainly, if I could help it, I would never marry a wife who wrote.' Then I noticed a book published after that one, and entitled 'The New Arabian Nights, by Mr. and Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson.' I shut 'Virginibus Puerisque' with a sigh, and put it away. [Illustration] "But this inquiry need not, I feel confident, lead to nothing. Negatively I know love; for I do not require to be told what it is not, and I have my ideal. Putting my knowledge together and surveying it dispassionately in the mass, I am inclined to think that this is really love. [Illustration] "I may lay down as Proposition I. that surging, tempestuous passion comes involuntarily. You are heart-whole, when, as it were, the gates of your bosom open, in she sweeps, and the gates close. So far this is a faithful description of my case. Whatever it is, it came without any desire or volition on my part, and it looks as if it meant to stay. What I ask myself is--first, What is it? secondly, Where is it? thirdly, Who is it? and fourthly, What shall I do with it? I have thus my work cut out for me. [Illustration] "What is it? I reply that I am stumped at once, unless I am allowed to fix upon an object definitely and precisely. This, no doubt, is arguing in a circle; but Descartes himself assumed what he was to try to prove. This, then, being permitted, I have chosen my object, and we can now go on again. What is it? Some might evade the difficulty by taking a middle course. You are not, they might say, in love as yet, but you are on the brink of it. The lady is no idol to you at present, but neither is she indifferent. You would not walk four miles in wet weather to get a rose from her; but if she did present you with a rose, you would not wittingly drop it down an area. In short, you have all but lost your heart. To this I reply simply, love is not a process, it is an event. You may unconsciously be on the brink of it, when all at once the ground gives way beneath you, and in you go. The difference between love and not-love, if I may be allowed the word, being so wide, my inquiry should produce decisive results. On the whole, therefore, and in the absence of direct proof to the contrary, I believe that the passion of love does possess me. [Illustration] [Illustration] "Where is it? This is the simplest question of the four. It is in the heart. It fills the heart to overflowing, so that if there were one drop more the heart would run over. Love is thus plainly a liquid: which accounts to some extent for its well-recognized habit of surging. Among its effects this may be noted: that it makes you miserable if you be not by the loved one's side. To hold her hand is ecstasy, to press it, rapture. The fond lover--as it might be myself--sees his beloved depart on a railway journey with apprehension. He never ceases to remember that engines burst and trains run off the line. In an agony he awaits the telegram that tells him she has reached Shepherd's Bush in safety. When he sees her talking, as if she liked it, to another man, he is torn, he is rent asunder, he is dismembered by jealousy. He walks beneath her window till the policeman sees him home; and when he wakes in the morning, it is to murmur her name to himself until he falls asleep again and is late for the office. Well, do I experience such sensations, or do I not? Is this love, after all? Where are the spills? "I have been taking for granted that I know who it is. But is this wise? Nothing puzzles me so much as the way some men seem to know, by intuition, as it were, which is the woman for whom they have a passion. They take a girl from among their acquaintance, and never seem to understand that they may be taking the wrong one. However, with certain reservations, I do not think I go too far in saying that I know who she is. There is one other, indeed, that I have sometimes thought--but it fortunately happens that they are related, so that in any case I cannot go far wrong. After I have seen them again, or at least before I propose, I shall decide definitely on this point. "We have now advanced as far as Query IV. Now, what is to be done? Let us consider this calmly. In the first place, have I any option in the matter, or is love a hurricane that carries one hither and thither as a bottle is tossed in a chopping sea? I reply that it all depends on myself. Rosalind would say no; that we are without control over love. But Rosalind was a woman. It is probably true that a woman cannot conquer love. Man, being her ideal in the abstract, is irresistible to her in the concrete. But man, being an intellectual creature, can make a magnificent effort and cast love out. Should I think it advisable, I do not question my ability to open the gates of my heart and bid her go. That would be a serious thing for her; and, as man is powerful, so, I think, should he be merciful. She has, no doubt, gained admittance, as it were, furtively; but can I, as a gentleman, send away a weak, confiding woman who loves me simply because she cannot help it? Nay, more, in a pathetic case of this kind, have I not a certain responsibility? Does not her attachment to me give her a claim upon me? She saw me, and love came to her. She looks upon me as the noblest and best of my sex. I do not say I am; it may be that I am not. But I have the child's happiness in my hands; can I trample it beneath my feet? It seems to be my plain duty to take her to me. "But there are others to consider. For me, would it not be the better part to show her that the greatest happiness of the greatest number should be my first consideration? Certainly there is nothing in a man I despise more than conceit in affairs of this sort. When I hear one of my sex boasting of his 'conquests,' I turn from him in disgust. 'Conquest' implies effort; and to lay one's self out for victories over the other sex always reminds me of pigeon-shooting. On the other hand, we must make allowances for our position of advantage. These little ones come into contact with us; they see us, athletic, beautiful, in the hunting-field or at the wicket; they sit beside us at dinner and listen to our brilliant conversation. They have met us, and the mischief is done. Every man--except, perhaps, yourself and Jimmy--knows the names of a few dear girls who have lost their hearts to him--some more, some less. I do not pretend to be in a different position from my neighbors, or in a better one. To some slight extent I may be to blame. But, after all, when a man sees cheeks redden and eyes brighten at his approach, he loses prudence. At the time he does not think what may be the consequences. But the day comes when he sees that he must take heed what he is about. He communes with himself about the future, and if he be a man of honor he maps out in his mind the several courses it is allowed him to follow, and chooses that one which he may tread with least pain to others. May that day for introspection come to few as it has come to me. Love is, indeed, a madness in the brain. Good-night." [Illustration] When he finished I would wake up, open the door for Marriot, and light him to his sleeping-chamber with a spill. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER IX. JIMMY. With the exception of myself, Jimmy Moggridge was no doubt the most silent of the company that met so frequently in my rooms. Just as Marriot's eyebrows rose if the cane chair was not empty when he strode in, Jimmy held that he had a right to the hearth-rug, on which he loved to lie prone, his back turned to the company and his eyes on his pipe. The stem was a long cherry-wood, but the bowl was meerschaum, and Jimmy, as he smoked, lay on the alert, as it were, to see the meerschaum coloring. So one may strain his eyes with intent eagerness until he can catch the hour-hand of a watch in action. With tobacco in his pocket Jimmy could refill his pipe without moving, but sometimes he crawled along the hearth-rug to let the fire-light play more exquisitely on his meerschaum bowl. In time, of course, the Arcadia Mixture made him more and more like the rest of us, but he retained his individuality until he let his bowl fall off. Otherwise he only differed from us in one way. When he saw a match-box he always extracted a few matches and put them dreamily into his pocket. There were times when, with a sharp blow on Jimmy's person, we could doubtless have had him blazing like a chandelier. [Illustration] Jimmy was a barrister--though this is scarcely worth mentioning--and it had been known to us for years that he made a living by contributing to the _Saturday Review_. How the secret leaked out I cannot say with certainty. Jimmy never forced it upon us, and I cannot remember any paragraphs in the London correspondence of the provincial papers coupling his name with _Saturday_ articles. On the other hand, I distinctly recall having to wait one day in his chambers while Jimmy was shaving, and noticing accidentally a long, bulky envelope on his table, with the _Saturday Review's_ mystic crest on it. It was addressed to Jimmy, and contained, I concluded, a bundle of proofs. That was so long ago as 1885. If further evidence is required, there is the undoubted fact, to which several of us could take oath, that, at Oxford, Jimmy was notorious for his sarcastic pen--nearly being sent down, indeed, for the same. Again, there was the certainty that for years Jimmy had been engaged upon literary work of some kind. We had been with him buying the largest-sized scribbling paper in the market; we had heard him muttering to himself as if in pain: and we had seen him correcting proof-sheets. When we caught him at them he always thrust the proofs into a drawer which he locked by putting his leg on it--for the ordinary lock was broken--and remaining in that position till we had retired. Though he rather shunned the subject as a rule, he admitted to us that the work was journalism and not a sarcastic history of the nineteenth century, on which we felt he would come out strong. Lastly, Jimmy had lost the brightness of his youth, and was become silent and moody, which is well known to be the result of writing satire. [Illustration] Were it not so notorious that the thousands who write regularly for the _Saturday_ have reasons of their own for keeping it dark and merely admitting the impeachment with a nod or smile, we might have marvelled at Jimmy's reticence. There were, however, moments when he thawed so far as practically to allow, and every one knows what that means, that the _Saturday_ was his chief source of income. "Only," he would add, "should you be acquainted with the editor, don't mention my contributions to him." From this we saw that Jimmy and the editor had an understanding on the subject, though we were never agreed which of them it was who had sworn the other to secrecy. We were proud of Jimmy's connection with the press, and every week we discussed his latest article. Jimmy never told us, except in a roundabout way, which were his articles; but we knew his style, and it was quite exhilarating to pick out his contributions week by week. We were never baffled, for "Jimmy's touches" were unmistakable; and "Have you seen Jimmy this week in the _Saturday_ on Lewis Morris?" or, "I say, do you think Buchanan knows it was Jimmy who wrote that?" was what we said when we had lighted our pipes. Now I come to the incident that drew from Jimmy his extraordinary statement. I was smoking with him in his rooms one evening, when a clatter at his door was followed by a thud on the floor. I knew as well as Jimmy what had happened. In his pre-_Saturday_ days he had no letter-box, only a slit in the door; and through this we used to denounce him on certain occasions when we called and he would not let us in. Lately, however, he had fitted up a letter-box himself, which kept together if you opened the door gently, but came clattering to the floor under the weight of heavy letters. The letter to which it had succumbed this evening was quite a package, and could even have been used as a missile. Jimmy snatched it up quickly, evidently knowing the contents by their bulk; and I was just saying to myself, "More proofs from the _Saturday_," when the letter burst at the bottom, and in a moment a score of smaller letters were tumbling about my feet. In vain did Jimmy entreat me to let him gather them up. I helped, and saw, to my bewilderment, that all the letters were addressed in childish hands to "Uncle Jim, care of Editor of _Mothers Pets_." It was impossible that Jimmy could have so many nephews and nieces. Seeing that I had him, Jimmy advanced to the hearth-rug as if about to make his statement; then changed his mind and, thrusting a dozen of the letters into my hands, invited me to read. The first letter ran: "Dearest Uncle Jim,--I must tell you about my canary. I love my canary very much. It is a yellow canary, and it sings so sweetly. I keep it in a cage, and it is so tame. Mamma and me wishes you would come and see us and our canary. Dear Uncle Jim, I love you.--Your little friend, Milly (aged four years)." Here is the second: "Dear Uncle Jim,--You will want to know about my blackbird. It sits in a tree and picks up the crumbs on the window, and Thomas wants to shoot it for eating the cherries; but I won't let Thomas shoot it, for it is a nice blackbird, and I have wrote all this myself.--Your loving little Bobby (aged five years)." In another, Jacky (aged four and a half) described his parrot, and I have also vague recollections of Harry (aged six) on his chaffinch, and Archie (five) on his linnet. "What does it mean?" I demanded of Jimmy, who, while I read, had been smoking savagely. "Don't you see that they are in for the prize?" he growled. Then he made his statement. "I have never," Jimmy said, "contributed to the _Saturday_, nor, indeed, to any well-known paper. That, however, was only because the editors would not meet me half-way. After many disappointments, fortune--whether good or bad I cannot say--introduced me to the editor of _Mothers Pets_, a weekly journal whose title sufficiently suggests its character. Though you may never have heard of it, _Mothers Pets_ has a wide circulation and is a great property. I was asked to join the staff under the name of 'Uncle Jim,' and did not see my way to refuse. I inaugurated a new feature. Mothers' pets were cordially invited to correspond with me on topics to be suggested week by week, and prizes were to be given for the best letters. This feature has been an enormous success, and I get the most affectionate letters from mothers, consulting me about teething and the like, every week. They say that I am dearer to their children than most real uncles, and they often urge me to go and stay with them. There are lots of kisses awaiting me. I also get similar invitations from the little beasts themselves. Pass the Arcadia." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER X. SCRYMGEOUR. Scrymgeour was an artist and a man of means, so proud of his profession that he gave all his pictures fancy prices, and so wealthy that he could have bought them. To him I went when I wanted money--though it must not be thought that I borrowed. In the days of the Arcadia Mixture I had no bank account. As my checks dribbled in I stuffed them into a torn leather case that was kept together by a piece of twine, and when Want tapped at my chamber door, I drew out the check that seemed most willing to come, and exchanged with Scrymgeour. In his detestation of argument Scrymgeour resembled myself, but otherwise we differed as much as men may differ who smoke the Arcadia. He read little, yet surprised us by a smattering of knowledge about all important books that had been out for a few months, until we discovered that he got his information from a friend in India. He had also, I remember, a romantic notion that Africa might be civilized by the Arcadia Mixture. As I shall explain presently, his devotion to the Arcadia very nearly married him against his will; but first I must describe his boudoir. We always called it Scrymgeour's boudoir after it had ceased to deserve the censure, just as we called Moggridge Jimmy because he was Jimmy to some of us as a boy. Scrymgeour deserted his fine rooms in Bayswater for the inn some months after the Arcadia Mixture had reconstructed him, but his chambers were the best on our stair, and with the help of a workman from the Japanese Village he converted them into an Oriental dream. Our housekeeper thought little of the rest of us while the boudoir was there to be gazed at, and even William John would not spill the coffee in it. When the boudoir was ready for inspection, Scrymgeour led me to it, and as the door opened I suddenly remembered that my boots were muddy. The ceiling was a great Japanese Christmas card representing the heavens; heavy clouds floated round a pale moon, and with the dusk the stars came out. The walls, instead of being papered, were hung with a soft Japanese cloth, and fantastic figures frolicked round a fireplace that held a bamboo fan. There was no mantelpiece. The room was very small; but when you wanted a blue velvet desk to write on, you had only to press a spring against the wall; and if you leaned upon the desk the Japanese workmen were ready to make you a new one. There were springs everywhere, shaped like birds and mice and butterflies; and when you touched one of them something was sure to come out. Blood-colored curtains separated the room from the alcove where Scrymgeour was to rest by night, and his bed became a bath by simply turning it upside down. On one side of the bed was a wine-bin, with a ladder running up to it. The door of the sitting-room was a symphony in gray, with shadowy reptiles crawling across the panels; and the floor--dark, mysterious--presented a fanciful picture of the infernal regions. Scrymgeour said hopefully that the place would look cozier after he had his pictures in it; but he stopped me when I began to fill my pipe. He believed, he said, that smoking was not a Japanese custom; and there was no use taking Japanese chambers unless you lived up to them. Here was a revelation. Scrymgeour proposed to live his life in harmony with these rooms. I felt too sad at heart to say much to him then, but, promising to look in again soon, I shook hands with my unhappy friend and went away. [Illustration] It happened, however, that Scrymgeour had been several times in my rooms before I was able to visit him again. My hand was on his door-bell when I noticed a figure I thought I knew lounging at the foot of the stair. It was Scrymgeour himself, and he was smoking the Arcadia. We greeted each other languidly on the doorstep, Scrymgeour assuring me that "Japan in London" was a grand idea. It gave a zest to life, banishing the poor, weary conventionalities of one's surroundings. This was said while we still stood at the door, and I began to wonder why Scrymgeour did not enter his rooms. "A beautiful night," he said, rapturously. A cruel east wind was blowing. He insisted that evening was the time for thinking, and that east winds brace you up. Would I have a cigar? I would if he asked me inside to smoke it. My friend sighed. "I thought I told you," he said, "that I don't smoke in my chambers. It isn't the thing." Then he explained, hesitatingly, that he hadn't given up smoking. "I come down here," he said, "with my pipe, and walk up and down. I assure you it is quite a new sensation, and I much prefer it to lolling in an easy-chair." The poor fellow shivered as he spoke, and I noticed that his great-coat was tightly buttoned up to the throat. He had a hacking cough and his teeth were chattering. "Let us go in," I said; "I don't want to smoke." He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and opened his door with an affectation of gayety. The room looked somewhat more home-like now, but it was very cold. Scrymgeour had no fire yet. He had been told that the smoke would blacken his moon. Besides, I question if he would have dared to remove the fan from the fireplace without consulting a Japanese authority. He did not even know whether the Japanese burned coal. I missed a number of the articles of furniture that had graced his former rooms. The easels were gone; there were none of the old canvases standing against the wall, and he had exchanged his comfortable, plain old screen for one with lizards crawling over it. "It would never have done," he explained, "to spoil the room with English things, so I got in some more Japanese furniture." I asked him if he had sold his canvases; whereupon he signed me to follow him to the wine-bin. It was full of them. There were no newspapers lying about; but Scrymgeour hoped to manage to take one in by and by. He was only feeling his way at present, he said. In the dim light shed by a Japanese lamp, I tripped over a rainbow-colored slipper that tapered to the heel and turned up at the toe. "I wonder you can get into these things," I whispered, for the place depressed me; and he answered, with similar caution, that he couldn't. "I keep them lying about," he said, confidentially; "but after I think nobody is likely to call I put on an old pair of English ones." At this point the housekeeper knocked at the door, and Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat into a Japanese dressing-gown before he cried "Come in!" As I left I asked him how he felt now, and he said that he had never been so happy in his life. But his hand was hot, and he did not look me in the face. [Illustration] Nearly a month elapsed before I looked in again. The unfortunate man had now a Japanese rug over his legs to keep out the cold, and he was gazing dejectedly at an outlandish mess which he called his lunch. He insisted that it was not at all bad; but it had evidently been on the table some time when I called, and he had not even tasted it. He ordered coffee for my benefit, but I do not care for coffee that has salt in it instead of sugar. I said that I had merely looked in to ask him to an early dinner at the club, and it was touching to see how he grasped at the idea. So complete, however, was his subjection to that terrible housekeeper, who believed in his fad, that he dared not send back her dishes untasted. As a compromise I suggested that he could wrap up some of the stuff in paper and drop it quietly into the gutter. We sallied forth, and I found him so weak that he had to be assisted into a hansom. He still maintained, however, that Japanese chambers were worth making some sacrifice for; and when the other Arcadians saw his condition they had the delicacy not to contradict him. They thought it was consumption. If we had not taken Scrymgeour in hand I dare not think what his craze might have reduced him to. A friend asked him into the country for ten days, and of course he was glad to go. As it happened, my chambers were being repapered at the time, and Scrymgeour gave me permission to occupy his rooms until his return. The other Arcadians agreed to meet me there nightly, and they were indefatigable in their efforts to put the boudoir to rights. Jimmy wrote letters to editors, of a most cutting nature, on the moon, breaking the table as he stepped on and off it, and we gave the butterflies to William John. The reptiles had to crawl off the door, and we made pipe-lights of the Japanese fans. Marriot shot the candles at the mice and birds; and Gilray, by improvising an entertainment behind the blood-red curtains, contrived to give them the dilapidated appearance without which there is no real comfort. In short, the boudoir soon assumed such a homely aspect that Scrymgeour on his return did not recognize it. When he realized where he was he lighted up at once. [Illustration] CHAPTER XI. HIS WIFE'S CIGARS. [Illustration] Though Pettigrew, who is a much more successful journalist than Jimmy, says pointedly of his wife that she encourages his smoking instead of putting an end to it, I happen to know that he has cupboard skeletons. Pettigrew has been married for years, and frequently boasted of his wife's interest in smoking, until one night an accident revealed the true state of matters to me. Late in the night, when traffic is hushed and the river has at last a chance of making itself heard, Pettigrew's window opens cautiously, and he casts something wrapped in newspaper into the night. The window is then softly closed, and all is again quiet. At other times Pettigrew steals along the curb-stone, dropping his skeletons one by one. Nevertheless, his cupboard beneath the bookcase is so crammed that he dreams the lock has given way. The key is always in his pocket, yet when his children approach the cupboard he orders them away, so fearful is he of something happening. When his wife has retired he sometimes unlocks the cupboard with nervous hand, when the door bursts gladly open, and the things roll on to the carpet. They are the cigars his wife gives him as birthday presents, on the anniversary of his marriage, and at other times, and such a model wife is she that he would do anything for her except smoke them. They are Celebros, Regalia Rothschilds, twelve and six the hundred. I discovered Pettigrew's secret one night, when, as I was passing his house, a packet of Celebros alighted on my head. I demanded an explanation, and I got it on the promise that I would not mention the matter to the other Arcadians. [Illustration] "Several years having elapsed," said Pettigrew, "since I pretended to smoke and enjoy my first Celebro, I could not now undeceive my wife--it would be such a blow to her. At the time it could have been done easily. She began by making trial of a few. There were seven of them in an envelope; and I knew at once that she had got them for a shilling. She had heard me saying that eightpence is a sad price to pay for a cigar--I prefer them at tenpence--and a few days afterward she produced her first Celebros. Each of them had, and has, a gold ribbon round it, bearing the legend, 'Non plus ultra.' She was shy and timid at that time, and I thought it very brave of her to go into the shop herself and ask for the Celebros, as advertised; so I thanked her warmly. When she saw me slipping them into my pocket she looked disappointed, and said that she would like to see me smoking one. My reply would have been that I never cared to smoke in the open air, if she had not often seen me do so. Besides, I wanted to please her very much; and if what I did was weak I have been severely punished for it. The pocket into which I had thrust the Celebros also contained my cigar-case; and with my hand in the pocket I covertly felt for a Villar y Villar and squeezed it into the envelope. This I then drew forth, took out the cigar, as distinguished from the Celebros, and smoked it with unfeigned content. My wife watched me eagerly, asking six or eight times how I liked it. From the way she talked of fine rich bouquet and nutty flavor I gathered that she had been in conversation with the tobacconist, and I told her the cigars were excellent. Yes, they were as choice a brand as I had ever smoked. She clapped her hands joyously at that, and said that if she had not made up her mind never to do so she would tell me what they cost. Next she asked me to guess the price; I answered eighty shillings a hundred; and then she confessed that she got the seven for a shilling. On our way home she made arch remarks about men who judged cigars simply by their price. I laughed gayly in reply, begging her not to be too hard on me; and I did not even feel uneasy when she remarked that of course I would never buy those horridly expensive Villar y Villars again. When I left her I gave the Celebros to an acquaintance against whom I had long had a grudge--we have not spoken since--but I preserved the envelope as a pretty keepsake. This, you see, happened shortly before our marriage. [Illustration] "I have had a consignment of Celebros every month or two since then, and, dispose of them quietly as I may, they are accumulating in the cupboard. I despise myself; but my guile was kindly meant at first, and every thoughtful man will see the difficulties in the way of a confession now. Who can say what might happen if I were to fling that cupboard door open in presence of my wife? I smoke less than I used to do; for if I were to buy my cigars by the box I could not get them smuggled into the house. Besides, she would know--I don't say how, I merely make the statement--that I had been buying cigars. So I get half a dozen at a time. Perhaps you will sympathize with me when I say that I have had to abandon my favorite brand. I cannot get Villar y Villars that look like Celebros, and my wife is quicker in those matters than she used to be. One day, for instance, she noticed that the cigars in my case had not the gold ribbon round them, and I almost fancied she became suspicious. I explained that the ribbon was perhaps a little ostentatious; but she said it was an intimation of nutty flavor: and now I take ribbons off the Celebros and put them on the other cigars. The boxes in which the Celebros arrive have a picturesque design on the lid and a good deal of lace frilling round the edge, and she likes to have a box lying about. The top layer of that box is cigars in gold ribbons, placed there by myself, and underneath are the Celebros. I never get down to the Celebros. "For a long time my secret was locked in my breast as carefully as I shall lock my next week's gift away in the cupboard, if I can find room for it; but a few of my most intimate friends have an inkling of it now. When my friends drop in I am compelled to push the Celebro box toward them, and if they would simply take a cigar and ask no questions all would be well; for, as I have said, there are cigars on the top. But they spoil everything by remarking that they have not seen the brand before. Should my wife not be present this is immaterial, for I have long had a reputation of keeping good cigars. Then I merely remark that it is a new brand; and they smoke, probably observing that it reminds them of a Cabana, which is natural, seeing that it is a Cabana in disguise. If my wife is present, however, she comes forward smiling, and remarks, with a fond look in my direction, that they are her birthday present to her Jack. Then they start back and say they always smoke a pipe. These Celebros were making me a bad name among my friends, so I have given a few of them to understand--I don't care to put it more plainly--that if they will take a cigar from the top layer they will find it all right. One of them, however, has a personal ill-will to me because my wife told his wife that I preferred Celebro cigars at twelve and six a hundred to any other. Now he is expected to smoke the same; and he takes his revenge by ostentatiously offering me a Celebro when I call on him." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. GILRAY'S FLOWER-POT. I charge Gilray's unreasonableness to his ignoble passion for cigarettes; and the story of his flower-pot has therefore an obvious moral. The want of dignity he displayed about that flower-pot, on his return to London, would have made any one sorry for him. I had my own work to look after, and really could not be tending his chrysanthemum all day. After he came back, however, there was no reasoning with him, and I admit that I never did water his plant, though always intending to do so. The great mistake was in not leaving the flower-pot in charge of William John. No doubt I readily promised to attend to it, but Gilray deceived me by speaking as if the watering of a plant was the merest pastime. He had to leave London for a short provincial tour, and, as I see now, took advantage of my good nature. As Gilray had owned his flower-pot for several months, during which time (I take him at his word) he had watered it daily, he must have known he was misleading me. He said that you got into the way of watering a flower-pot regularly just as you wind up your watch. That certainly is not the case. I always wind up my watch, and I never watered the flower-pot. Of course, if I had been living in Gilray's rooms with the thing always before my eyes I might have done so. I proposed to take it into my chambers at the time, but he would not hear of that. Why? How Gilray came by this chrysanthemum I do not inquire; but whether, in the circumstances, he should not have made a clean breast of it to me is another matter. Undoubtedly it was an unusual thing to put a man to the trouble of watering a chrysanthemum daily without giving him its history. My own belief has always been that he got it in exchange for a pair of boots and his old dressing-gown. He hints that it was a present; but, as one who knows him well, I may say that he is the last person a lady would be likely to give a chrysanthemum to. Besides, if he was so proud of the plant he should have stayed at home and watered it himself. [Illustration] He says that I never meant to water it, which is not only a mistake, but unkind. My plan was to run downstairs immediately after dinner every evening and give it a thorough watering. One thing or another, however, came in the way. I often remembered about the chrysanthemum while I was in the office; but even Gilray could hardly have expected me to ask leave of absence merely to run home and water his plant. You must draw the line somewhere, even in a government office. When I reached home I was tired, inclined to take things easily, and not at all in a proper condition for watering flower-pots. Then Arcadians would drop in. I put it to any sensible man or woman, could I have been expected to give up my friends for the sake of a chrysanthemum? Again, it was my custom of an evening, if not disturbed, to retire with my pipe into my cane chair, and there pass the hours communing with great minds, or, when the mood was on me, trifling with a novel. Often when I was in the middle of a chapter Gilray's flower-pot stood up before my eyes crying for water. He does not believe this, but it is the solemn truth. At those moments it was touch and go, whether I watered his chrysanthemum or not. Where I lost myself was in not hurrying to his rooms at once with a tumbler. I said to myself that I would go when I had finished my pipe, but by that time the flower-pot had escaped my memory. This may have been weakness; all I know is that I should have saved myself much annoyance if I had risen and watered the chrysanthemum there and then. But would it not have been rather hard on me to have had to forsake my books for the sake of Gilray's flowers and flower-pots and plants and things? What right has a man to go and make a garden of his chambers? [Illustration] All the three weeks he was away, Gilray kept pestering me with letters about his chrysanthemum. He seemed to have no faith in me--a detestable thing in a man who calls himself your friend. I had promised to water his flower-pot; and between friends a promise is surely sufficient. It is not so, however, when Gilray is one of them. I soon hated the sight of my name in his handwriting. It was not as if he had said outright that he wrote entirely to know whether I was watering his plant. His references to it were introduced with all the appearance of afterthoughts. Often they took the form of postscripts: "By the way, are you watering my chrysanthemum?" or, "The chrysanthemum ought to be a beauty by this time;" or, "You must be quite an adept now at watering plants." Gilray declares now that, in answer to one of these ingenious epistles, I wrote to him saying that "I had just been watering his chrysanthemum." My belief is that I did no such thing; or, if I did, I meant to water it as soon as I had finished my letter. He has never been able to bring this home to me, he says, because he burned my correspondence. As if a business man would destroy such a letter. It was yet more annoying when Gilray took to post-cards. To hear the postman's knock and then discover, when you are expecting an important communication, that it is only a post-card about a flower-pot--that is really too bad. And then I consider that some of the post-cards bordered upon insult. One of them said, "What about chrysanthemum?--reply at once." This was just like Gilray's overbearing way; but I answered politely, and so far as I knew, truthfully, "Chrysanthemum all right." Knowing that there was no explaining things to Gilray, I redoubled my exertions to water his flower-pot as the day for his return drew near. Once, indeed, when I rang for water, I could not for the life of me remember what I wanted it for when it was brought. Had I had any forethought I should have left the tumbler stand just as it was to show it to Gilray on his return. But, unfortunately, William John had misunderstood what I wanted the water for, and put a decanter down beside it. Another time I was actually on the stair rushing to Gilray's door, when I met the housekeeper, and, stopping to talk to her, lost my opportunity again. To show how honestly anxious I was to fulfil my promise, I need only add that I was several times awakened in the watches of the night by a haunting consciousness that I had forgotten to water Gilray's flower-pot. On these occasions I spared no trouble to remember again in the morning. I reached out of bed to a chair and turned it upside down, so that the sight of it when I rose might remind me that I had something to do. With the same object I crossed the tongs and poker on the floor. Gilray maintains that instead of playing "fool's tricks" like these ("fool's tricks!") I should have got up and gone at once to his rooms with my water-bottle. What? and disturbed my neighbors? Besides, could I reasonably be expected to risk catching my death of cold for the sake of a wretched chrysanthemum? One reads of men doing such things for young ladies who seek lilies in dangerous ponds or edelweiss on overhanging cliffs. But Gilray was not my sweetheart, nor, I feel certain, any other person's. I come now to the day prior to Gilray's return. I had just reached the office when I remembered about the chrysanthemum. It was my last chance. If I watered it once I should be in a position to state that, whatever condition it might be in, I had certainly been watering it. I jumped into a hansom, told the cabby to drive to the inn, and twenty minutes afterward had one hand on Gilray's door, while the other held the largest water-can in the house. Opening the door I rushed in. The can nearly fell from my hand. There was no flower-pot! I rang the bell. "Mr. Gilray's chrysanthemum!" I cried. What do you think William John said? He coolly told me that the plant was dead, and had been flung out days ago. I went to the theatre that night to keep myself from thinking. All next day I contrived to remain out of Gilray's sight. When we met he was stiff and polite. He did not say a word about the chrysanthemum for a week, and then it all came out with a rush. I let him talk. With the servants flinging out the flower-pots faster than I could water them, what more could I have done? A coolness between us was inevitable. This I regretted, but my mind was made up on one point: I would never do Gilray a favor again. [Illustration] CHAPTER XIII. THE GRANDEST SCENE IN HISTORY. [Illustration] Though Scrymgeour only painted in watercolors, I think--I never looked at his pictures--he had one superb idea, which we often advised him to carry out. When he first mentioned it the room became comparatively animated, so much struck were we all, and we entreated him to retire to Stratford for a few months, before beginning the picture. His idea was to paint Shakespeare smoking his first pipe of the Arcadia Mixture. Many hundreds of volumes have been written about the glories of the Elizabethan age, the sublime period in our history. Then were Englishmen on fire to do immortal deeds. High aims and noble ambitions became their birthright. There was nothing they could not or would not do for England. Sailors put a girdle round the world. Every captain had a general's capacity; every fighting-man could have been a captain. All the women, from the queen downward, were heroines. Lofty statesmanship guided the conduct of affairs, a sublime philosophy was in the air. The period of great deeds was also the period of our richest literature. London was swarming with poetic geniuses. Immortal dramatists wandered in couples between stage doors and taverns. [Illustration] All this has been said many times; and we read these glowing outbursts about the Elizabethan age as if to the beating of a drum. But why was this period riper for magnificent deeds and noble literature than any other in English history? We all know how the thinkers, historians, and critics of yesterday and to-day answer that question; but our hearts and brains tell us that they are astray. By an amazing oversight they have said nothing of the Influence of Tobacco. The Elizabethan age might be better named the beginning of the smoking era. No unprejudiced person who has given thought to the subject can question the propriety of dividing our history into two periods--the pre-smoking and the smoking. When Raleigh, in honor of whom England should have changed its name, introduced tobacco into this country, the glorious Elizabethan age began. I am aware that those hateful persons called Original Researchers now maintain that Raleigh was not the man; but to them I turn a deaf ear. I know, I feel, that with the introduction of tobacco England woke up from a long sleep. Suddenly a new zest had been given to life. The glory of existence became a thing to speak of. Men who had hitherto only concerned themselves with the narrow things of home put a pipe into their mouths and became philosophers. Poets and dramatists smoked until all ignoble ideas were driven from them, and into their place rushed such high thoughts as the world had not known before. Petty jealousies no longer had hold of statesmen, who smoked, and agreed to work together for the public weal. Soldiers and sailors felt, when engaged with a foreign foe, that they were fighting for their pipes. The whole country was stirred by the ambition to live up to tobacco. Every one, in short, had now a lofty ideal constantly before him. Two stories of the period, never properly told hitherto, illustrate this. We all know that Gabriel Harvey and Spenser lay in bed discussing English poetry and the forms it ought to take. This was when tobacco was only known to a select few, of whom Spenser, the friend of Raleigh, was doubtless one. That the two friends smoked in bed I cannot doubt. Many poets have done the same thing since. Then there is the beautiful Armada story. In a famous Armada picture the English sailors are represented smoking; which makes it all the more surprising that the story to which I refer has come down to us in an incorrect form. According to the historians, when the Armada hove in sight the English captains were playing at bowls. Instead of rushing off to their ships on receipt of the news, they observed, "Let us first finish our game." I cannot believe that this is what they said. My conviction is that what was really said was, "Let us first finish our pipes"--surely a far more impressive and memorable remark. [Illustration] This afternoon Marlowe's "Jew of Malta" was produced for the first time; and of the two men who have just emerged from the Blackfriars Theatre one is the creator of _Barabas_. A marvel to all the "piperly make-plaies and make-bates," save one, is "famous Ned Alleyn;" for when money comes to him he does not drink till it be done, and already he is laying by to confound the ecclesiastics, who say hard things of him, by founding Dulwich College. "Not Roscius nor �sope," said Tom Nash, who was probably in need of a crown at the time, "ever performed more in action." A good fellow he is withal; for it is Ned who gives the supper to-night at the "Globe," in honor of the new piece, if he can get his friends together. The actor-manager shakes his head, for Marlowe, who was to meet him here, must have been seduced into a tavern by the way; but his companion, Robin Greene, is only wondering if that is a bailiff at the corner. Robin of the "ruffianly haire," _utriusque academiæ artibus magister_, is nearing the end of his tether, and might call to-night at shoemaker Islam's house near Dowgate, to tell a certain "bigge, fat, lusty wench" to prepare his last bed and buy a garland of bays. Ned must to the sign of the "Saba" in Gracious Street, where Burbage and "honest gamesom Armin" are sure to be found; but Greene durst not show himself in the street without Cutting Ball and other choice ruffians as a body-guard. Ned is content to leave them behind; for Robin has refused to be of the company to-night if that "upstart Will" is invited too, and the actor is fond of Will. There is no more useful man in the theatre, he has said to "Signior Kempino" this very day, for touching up old plays; and Will is a plodding young fellow, too, if not over-brilliant. Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern, picking out his men. There is an ale-house in Sea-coal Lane--the same where lady-like George Peele was found by the barber, who had subscribed an hour before for his decent burial, "all alone with a peck of oysters"--and here Ned is detained an unconscionable time. Just as he is leaving with Kempe and Cowley, Armin and Will Shakespeare burst in with a cry for wine. It is Armin who gives the orders, but his companion pays. They spy Alleyn, and Armin must tell his news. He is the bearer of a challenge from some merry souls at the "Saba" to the actor-manager; and Ned Alleyn turns white and red when he hears it. Then he laughs a confident laugh, and accepts the bet. Some theatre-goers, flushed with wine, have dared him to attempt certain parts in which Bentley and Knell vastly please them. Ned is incredulous that men should be so willing to fling away their money; yet here is Will a witness, and Burbage is staying on at the "Saba" not to let the challengers escape. The young man of twenty-four, at the White Horse in Friday Street, is Tom Nash; and it is Peele who is swearing that he is a monstrous clever fellow, and helping him to finish his wine. But Peele is glad to see Ned and Cowley in the doorway, for Tom has a weakness for reading aloud the good things from his own manuscripts. There is only one of the company who is not now sick to death of Nash's satires on Martin Marprelate; and perhaps even he has had enough of them, only he is as yet too obscure a person to say so. That is Will; and Nash detains him for a moment just to listen to his last words on the Marprelate controversy. Marprelate now appears "with a wit worn into the socket, twingling and pinking like the snuff of a candle; _quantum mutatus ab illo!_ how unlike the knave he was before, not for malice but for sharpness. The hogshead was even come to the hauncing, and nothing could be drawne from him but the dregs." Will says it is very good; and Nash smiles to himself as he puts the papers in his pockets and thinks vaguely that he might do something for Will. Shakespeare is not a university man, and they say he held horses at the doors of the Globe not long ago; but he knows a good thing when he hears it. All this time Marlowe is at the Globe, wondering why the others are so long in coming; but not wondering very much--for it is good wine they give you at the Globe. Even before the feast is well begun Kit's eyes are bloodshot and his hands unsteady. Death is already seeking for him at a tavern in Deptford, and the last scene in a wild, brief life starts up before us. A miserable ale-house, drunken words, the flash of a knife, and a man of genius has received his death-blow. What an epitaph for the greatest might-have-been in English literature: "Christopher Marlowe, slain by a serving-man in a drunken brawl, aged twenty-nine!" But by the time Shakespeare had reached his fortieth birthday every one of his fellow-playwrights round that table had rushed to his death. The short stout gentleman who is fond of making jokes, and not particular whom he confides them to, has heard another good story about Tarleton. This is the low comedian Kempe, who stepped into the shoes of flat-nosed, squinting Tarleton the other day, but never quite manages to fill them. He whispers the tale across Will's back to Cowley, before it is made common property; and little fancies, as he does so, that any immortality he and his friend may gain will be owing to their having played, before the end of the sixteenth century, the parts of _Dogberry_ and _Verges_ in a comedy by Shakespeare, whom they are at present rather in the habit of patronizing. The story is received with boisterous laughter, for it suits the time and place. [Illustration] Peele is in the middle of a love-song when Kit stumbles across the room to say a kind word to Shakespeare. That is a sign that George is not yet so very tipsy; for he is a gallant and a squire of dames so long as he is sober. There is not a maid in any tavern in Fleet Street who does not think George Peele the properest man in London. And yet, Greene being absent, scouring the street with Cutting Ball--whose sister is mother of poor Fortunatus Greene--Peele is the most dissolute man in the Globe to-night. There is a sad little daughter sitting up for him at home, and she will have to sit wearily till morning. Marlowe's praises would sink deeper into Will's heart if the author of the "Jew of Malta" were less unsteady on his legs. And yet he takes Kit's words kindly, and is glad to hear that "Titus Andronicus," produced the other day, pleases the man whose praise is most worth having. Will Shakespeare looks up to Kit Marlowe, and "Titus Andronicus" is the work of a young playwright who has tried to write like Kit. Marlowe knows it, and he takes it as something of a compliment, though he does not believe in imitation himself. He would return now to his seat beside Ned Alleyn; but the floor of the room is becoming unsteady, and Ned seems a long way off. Besides, Shakespeare's cup would never require refilling if there were not some one there to help him drink. [Illustration] The fun becomes fast and furious; and the landlord of the Globe puts in an appearance, ostensibly to do his guests honor by serving them himself. But he is fearful of how the rioting may end, and, if he dared, he would turn Nash into the street. Tom is the only man there whom the landlord--if that man had only been a Boswell--personally dislikes; indeed, Nash is no great favorite even with his comrades. He has a bitter tongue, and his heart is not to be mellowed by wine. The table roars over his sallies, of which the landlord himself is dimly conscious that he is the butt, and Kempe and Cowley wince under his satire. Those excellent comedians fall out over a trifling difference of opinion; and handsome Nash--he tells us himself that he was handsome, so there can be no doubt about it--maintains that they should decide the dispute by fist-cuffs without further loss of time. While Kempe and Cowley threaten to break each other's heads--which, indeed, would be no great matter if they did it quietly--Burbage is reciting vehemently, with no one heeding him; and Marlowe insists on quarrelling with Armin about the existence of a Deity. For when Kit is drunk he is an infidel. Armin will not quarrel with anybody, and Marlowe is exasperated. [Illustration] But where is Shakespeare all this time? He has retired to a side table with Alleyn, who has another historical play that requires altering. Their conversation is of comparatively little importance; what we are to note with bated breath is that Will is filling a pipe. His face is placid, for he does not know that the tobacco Ned is handing him is the Arcadia Mixture. I love Ned Alleyn, and like to think that Shakespeare got the Arcadia from him. For a moment let us turn from Shakespeare at this crisis in his life. Alleyn has left him and is paying the score. Marlowe remains where he fell. Nash has forgotten where he lodges, and so sets off with Peele to an ale-house in Pye Corner, where George is only too well known. Kempe and Cowley are sent home in baskets. Again we turn to the figure in the corner, and there is such a light on his face that we shade our eyes. He is smoking the Arcadia, and as he smokes the tragedy of Hamlet takes form in his brain. This is the picture that Scrymgeour will never dare to paint. I know that there is no mention of tobacco in Shakespeare's plays, but those who smoke the Arcadia tell their secret to none, and of other mixtures they scorn to speak. CHAPTER XIV. MY BROTHER HENRY. [Illustration] Strictly speaking I never had a brother Henry, and yet I cannot say that Henry was an impostor. He came into existence in a curious way, and I can think of him now without malice as a child of smoke. The first I heard of Henry was at Pettigrew's house, which is in a London suburb, so conveniently situated that I can go there and back in one day. I was testing some new Cabanas, I remember, when Pettigrew remarked that he had been lunching with a man who knew my brother Henry. Not having any brother but Alexander, I felt that Pettigrew had mistaken the name. "Oh, no," Pettigrew said; "he spoke of Alexander too." Even this did not convince me, and I asked my host for his friend's name. Scudamour was the name of the man, and he had met my brothers Alexander and Henry years before in Paris. Then I remembered Scudamour, and I probably frowned, for I myself was my own brother Henry. I distinctly recalled Scudamour meeting Alexander and me in Paris, and calling me Henry, though my name begins with a J. I explained the mistake to Pettigrew, and here, for the time being, the matter rested. However, I had by no means heard the last of Henry. [Illustration] Several times afterward I heard from various persons that Scudamour wanted to meet me because he knew my brother Henry. At last we did meet, in Jimmy's chambers; and, almost as soon as he saw me, Scudamour asked where Henry was now. This was precisely what I feared. I am a man who always looks like a boy. There are few persons of my age in London who retain their boyish appearance as long as I have done; indeed, this is the curse of my life. Though I am approaching the age of thirty, I pass for twenty; and I have observed old gentlemen frown at my precocity when I said a good thing or helped myself to a second glass of wine. There was, therefore, nothing surprising in Scudamour's remark, that, when he had the pleasure of meeting Henry, Henry must have been about the age that I had now reached. All would have been well had I explained the real state of affairs to this annoying man; but, unfortunately for myself, I loathe entering upon explanations to anybody about anything. This it is to smoke the Arcadia. When I ring for a time-table and William John brings coals instead, I accept the coals as a substitute. Much, then, did I dread a discussion with Scudamour, his surprise when he heard that I was Henry, and his comments on my youthful appearance. Besides, I was smoking the best of all mixtures. There was no likelihood of my meeting Scudamour again, so the easiest way to get rid of him seemed to be to humor him. I therefore told him that Henry was in India, married, and doing well. "Remember me to Henry when you write to him," was Scudamour's last remark to me that evening. [Illustration] A few weeks later some one tapped me on the shoulder in Oxford Street. It was Scudamour. "Heard from Henry?" he asked. I said I had heard by the last mail. "Anything particular in the letter?" I felt it would not do to say that there was nothing particular in a letter which had come all the way from India, so I hinted that Henry was having trouble with his wife. By this I meant that her health was bad; but he took it up in another way, and I did not set him right. "Ah, ah!" he said, shaking his head sagaciously; "I'm sorry to hear that. Poor Henry!" "Poor old boy!" was all I could think of replying. "How about the children?" Scudamour asked. "Oh, the children," I said, with what I thought presence of mind, "are coming to England." "To stay with Alexander?" he asked. My answer was that Alexander was expecting them by the middle of next month; and eventually Scudamour went away muttering, "Poor Henry!" In a month or so we met again. "No word of Henry's getting leave of absence?" asked Scudamour. I replied shortly that Henry had gone to live in Bombay, and would not be home for years. He saw that I was brusque, so what does he do but draw me aside for a quiet explanation. "I suppose," he said, "you are annoyed because I told Pettigrew that Henry's wife had run away from him. The fact is, I did it for your good. You see, I happened to make a remark to Pettigrew about your brother Henry, and he said that there was no such person. Of course I laughed at that, and pointed out not only that I had the pleasure of Henry's acquaintance, but that you and I had talked about the old fellow every time we met. 'Well,' Pettigrew said, 'this is a most remarkable thing; for he,' meaning you, 'said to me in this very room, sitting in that very chair, that Alexander was his only brother.' I saw that Pettigrew resented your concealing the existence of your brother Henry from him, so I thought the most friendly thing I could do was to tell him that your reticence was doubtless due to the unhappy state of poor Henry's private affairs. Naturally in the circumstances you did not want to talk about Henry." I shook Scudamour by the hand, telling him that he had acted judiciously; but if I could have stabbed him in the back at that moment I dare say I would have done it. I did not see Scudamour again for a long time, for I took care to keep out of his way; but I heard first from him and then of him. One day he wrote to me saying that his nephew was going to Bombay, and would I be so good as to give the youth an introduction to my brother Henry? He also asked me to dine with him and his nephew. I declined the dinner, but I sent the nephew the required note of introduction to Henry. The next I heard of Scudamour was from Pettigrew. "By the way," said Pettigrew, "Scudamour is in Edinburgh at present." I trembled, for Edinburgh is where Alexander lives. "What has taken him there?" I asked, with assumed carelessness. Pettigrew believed it was business; "but," he added, "Scudamour asked me to tell you that he meant to call on Alexander, as he was anxious to see Henry's children." A few days afterward I had a telegram from Alexander, who generally uses this means of communication when he corresponds with me. "Do you know a man, Scudamour? Reply," was what Alexander said. I thought of answering that we had met a man of that name when we were in Paris; but after consideration, I replied boldly: "Know no one of name of Scudamour." About two months ago I passed Scudamour in Regent Street, and he scowled at me. This I could have borne if there had been no more of Henry; but I knew that Scudamour was now telling everybody about Henry's wife. By and by I got a letter from an old friend of Alexander's asking me if there was any truth in a report that Alexander was going to Bombay. Soon afterward Alexander wrote to me saying he had been told by several persons that I was going to Bombay. In short, I saw that the time had come for killing Henry. So I told Pettigrew that Henry had died of fever, deeply regretted; and asked him to be sure to tell Scudamour, who had always been interested in the deceased's welfare. Pettigrew afterward told me that he had communicated the sad intelligence to Scudamour. "How did he take it?" I asked. "Well," Pettigrew said, reluctantly, "he told me that when he was up in Edinburgh he did not get on well with Alexander. But he expressed great curiosity as to Henry's children." "Ah," I said, "the children were both drowned in the Forth; a sad affair--we can't bear to talk of it." I am not likely to see much of Scudamour again, nor is Alexander. Scudamour now goes about saying that Henry was the only one of us he really liked. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV. HOUSE-BOAT "ARCADIA." Scrymgeour had a house-boat called, of course, the _Arcadia_, to which he was so ill-advised as to invite us all at once. He was at that time lying near Cookham, attempting to catch the advent of summer on a canvas, and we were all, unhappily, able to accept his invitation. Looking back to this nightmare of a holiday, I am puzzled at our not getting on well together, for who should be happy in a house-boat if not five bachelors, well known to each other, and all smokers of the same tobacco? Marriot says now that perhaps we were happy without knowing it; but that is nonsense. We were miserable. I have concluded that we knew each other too well. Though accustomed to gather together in my rooms of an evening in London, we had each his private chambers to retire to, but in the _Arcadia_ solitude was impossible. There was no escaping from each other. [Illustration] Scrymgeour, I think, said that we were unhappy because each of us acted as if the house-boat was his own. We retorted that the boy--by no means a William John--was at the bottom of our troubles, and then Scrymgeour said that he had always been against having a boy. We had been opposed to a boy at first, too, fancying that we should enjoy doing our own cooking. Seeing that there were so many of us, this should not have been difficult, but the kitchen was small, and we were always striking against each other and knocking things over. We had to break a window-pane to let the smoke out; then Gilray, in kicking the stove because he had burned his fingers on it, upset the thing, and, before we had time to intervene, a leg of mutton jumped out and darted into the coal-bunk. Jimmy foolishly placed our six tumblers on the window-sill to dry, and a gust of wind toppled them into the river. The draughts were a nuisance. This was owing to windows facing each other being left open, and as a result articles of clothing disappeared so mysteriously that we thought there must be a thief or a somnambulist on board. The third or fourth day, however, going into the saloon unexpectedly, I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind. When last seen it was on its way to Maidenhead, bowling along at the rate of several miles an hour. So we thought it would be as well to have a boy. As far as I remember, this was the only point unanimously agreed upon during the whole time we were aboard. They told us at the Ferry Hotel that boys were rather difficult to get in Cookham; but we instituted a vigorous house-to-house search, and at last we ran a boy to earth and carried him off. It was most unfortunate for all concerned that the boy did not sleep on board. There was, however, no room for him; so he came at seven in the morning, and retired when his labors were over for the day. I say he came; but in point of fact that was the difficulty with the boy. He couldn't come. He came as far as he could: that is to say, he walked up the tow-path until he was opposite the house-boat, and then he hallooed to be taken on board, whereupon some one had to go in the dingy for him. All the time we were in the house-boat that boy was never five minutes late. Wet or fine, calm or rough, 7 A.M. found the boy on the tow-path hallooing. No sooner were we asleep than the dewy morn was made hideous by the boy. Lying in bed with the blankets over our heads to deaden his cries, his fresh, lusty young voice pierced wood-work, blankets, sheets, everything. "Ya-ho, ahoy, ya-ho, aho, ahoy!" So he kept it up. What followed may easily be guessed. We all lay as silent as the grave, each waiting for some one else to rise and bring the impatient lad across. At last the stillness would be broken by some one's yelling out that he would do for that boy. A second would mutter horribly in his sleep; a third would make himself a favorite for the moment by shouting through the wooden partition that it was the fifth's turn this morning. The fifth would tell us where he would see the boy before he went across for him. Then there would be silence again. Eventually some one would put an ulster over his night-shirt, and sternly announce his intention of going over and taking the boy's life. Hearing this, the others at once dropped off to sleep. For a few days we managed to trick the boy by pulling up our blinds and so conveying to his mind the impression that we were getting up. Then he had not our breakfast ready when we did get up, which naturally enraged us. As soon as he got on board that boy made his presence felt. He was very strong and energetic in the morning, and spent the first half-hour or so in flinging coals at each other. This was his way of breaking them; and he was by nature so patient and humble that he rather flattered himself when a coal broke at the twentieth attempt. We used to dream that he was breaking coals on our heads. Often one of us dashed into the kitchen, threatening to drop him into the river if he did not sit quite still on a chair for the next two hours. Under these threats he looked sufficiently scared to satisfy anybody; but as soon as all was quiet again he crept back to the coal-bunk and was at his old games. [Illustration] It didn't matter what we did, the boy put a stop to it. We tried whist, and in ten minutes there was a "Hoy, hie, ya-ho!" from the opposite shore. It was the boy come back with the vegetables. If we were reading, "Ya-ho, hie!" and some one had to cross for that boy and the water-can. The boy was on the tow-path just when we had fallen into a snooze; he had to be taken across for the milk immediately we had lighted our pipes. On the whole, it is an open question whether it was not even more annoying to take him over than to go for him. Two or three times we tried to be sociable and went into the village together; but no sooner had we begun to enjoy ourselves than we remembered that we must go back and let the boy ashore. Tennyson speaks of a company making believe to be merry while all the time the spirit of a departed one haunted them in their play. That was exactly the effect of the boy on us. Even without the boy I hardly think we should have been a sociable party. The sight of so much humanity gathered in one room became a nuisance. We resorted to all kinds of subterfuge to escape from each other; and the one who finished breakfast first generally managed to make off with the dingy. The others were then at liberty to view him in the distance, in midstream, lying on his back in the bottom of the boat; and it was almost more than we could stand. The only way to bring him back was to bribe the boy into saying that he wanted to go across to the village for bacon or black lead or sardines. Thus even the boy had his uses. Things gradually got worse and worse. I remember only one day when as many as four of us were on speaking terms. Even this temporary sociability was only brought about in order that we might combine and fall upon Jimmy with the more crushing force. Jimmy had put us in an article, representing himself as a kind of superior person who was making a study of us. The thing was such a gross caricature, and so dull, that it was Jimmy we were sorry for rather than ourselves. Still, we gathered round him in a body and told him what we thought of the matter. Affairs might have gone more smoothly after this if we four had been able to hold together. Unfortunately, Jimmy won Marriot over, and next day there was a row all round, which resulted in our division into five parties. One day Pettigrew visited us. He brought his Gladstone bag with him, but did not stay over night. He was glad to go; for at first none of us, I am afraid, was very civil to him, though we afterward thawed a little. He returned to London and told every one how he found us. I admit we were not prepared to receive company. The house-boat consisted of five apartments--a saloon, three bedrooms, and a kitchen. When he boarded us we were distributed as follows: I sat smoking in the saloon, Marriot sat smoking in the first bedroom, Gilray in the second, Jimmy in the third, and Scrymgeour in the kitchen. The boy did not keep Scrymgeour company. He had been ordered on deck, where he sat with his legs crossed, the picture of misery because he had no coals to break. A few days after Pettigrew's visit we followed him to London, leaving Scrymgeour behind, where we soon became friendly again. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVI. THE ARCADIA MIXTURE AGAIN. [Illustration] One day, some weeks after we left Scrymgeour's house-boat, I was alone in my rooms, very busy smoking, when William John entered with a telegram. It was from Scrymgeour, and said, "You have got me into a dreadful mess. Come down here first train." Wondering what mess I could have got Scrymgeour into, I good-naturedly obeyed his summons, and soon I was smoking placidly on the deck of the house-boat, while Scrymgeour, sullen and nervous, tramped back and forward. I saw quickly that the only tobacco had something to do with his troubles, for he began by announcing that one evening soon after we left him he found that we had smoked all his Arcadia. He would have dispatched the boy to London for it, but the boy had been all day in the village buying a loaf, and would not be back for hours. Cookham cigars Scrymgeour could not smoke; cigarettes he only endured if made from the Arcadia. At Cookham he could only get tobacco that made him uncomfortable. Having recently begun to use a new pouch, he searched his pockets in vain for odd shreds of the Mixture to which he had so contemptibly become a slave. In a very bad temper he took to his dingy, vowing for a little while that he would violently break the chains that bound him to one tobacco, and afterward, when he was restored to his senses that he would jilt the Arcadia gradually. He had pulled some distance down the river, without regarding the Cliveden Woods, when he all but ran into a blaze of Chinese lanterns. It was a house-boat called--let us change its name to the _Heathen Chinee_. Staying his dingy with a jerk, Scrymgeour looked up, when a wonderful sight met his eyes. On the open window of an apparently empty saloon stood a round tin of tobacco, marked "Arcadia Mixture." [Illustration] Scrymgeour sat gaping. The only sound to be heard, except a soft splash of water under the house-boat, came from the kitchen, where a servant was breaking crockery for supper. The romantic figure in the dingy stretched out his hand and then drew it back, remembering that there was a law against this sort of thing. He thought to himself, "If I were to wait until the owner returns, no doubt a man who smokes the Arcadia would feel for me." Then his fatal horror of explanations whispered to him, "The owner may be a stupid, garrulous fellow who will detain you here half the night explaining your situation." Scrymgeour, I want to impress upon the reader, was, like myself, the sort of a man who, if asked whether he did not think "In Memoriam" Mr. Browning's greatest poem, would say Yes, as the easiest way of ending the conversation. Obviously he would save himself trouble by simply annexing the tin. He seized it and rowed off. Smokers, who know how tobacco develops the finer feelings, hardly require to be told what happened next. Suddenly Scrymgeour remembered that he was probably leaving the owner of the _Heathen Chinee_ without any Arcadia Mixture. He at once filled his pouch, and, pulling softly back to the house-boat, replaced the tin on the window, his bosom swelling with the pride of those who give presents. At the same moment a hand gripped him by the neck, and a girl, somewhere on deck, screamed. Scrymgeour's captor, who was no other than the owner of the _Heathen Chinee_, dragged him fiercely into the house-boat and stormed at him for five minutes. My friend shuddered as he thought of the explanations to come when he was allowed to speak, and gradually he realized that he had been mistaken for someone else--apparently for some young blade who had been carrying on a clandestine flirtation with the old gentleman's daughter. It will take an hour, thought Scrymgeour, to convince him that I am not that person, and another hour to explain why I am really here. Then the weak creature had an idea: "Might not the simplest plan be to say that his surmises are correct, promise to give his daughter up, and row away as quickly as possible?" He began to wonder if the girl was pretty; but saw it would hardly do to say that he reserved his defence until he could see her. "I admit," he said, at last, "that I admire your daughter; but she spurned my advances, and we parted yesterday forever." "Yesterday!" "Or was it the day before?" "Why, sir, I have caught you red-handed!" "This is an accident," Scrymgeour explained, "and I promise never to speak to her again." Then he added, as an after-thought, "however painful that may be to me." Before Scrymgeour returned to his dingy he had been told that he would be drowned if he came near that house-boat again. As he sculled away he had a glimpse of the flirting daughter, whom he described to me briefly as being of such engaging appearance that six yards was a trying distance to be away from her. "Here," thought Scrymgeour that night over a pipe of the Mixture, "the affair ends; though I dare say the young lady will call me terrible names when she hears that I have personated her lover. I must take care to avoid the father now, for he will feel that I have been following him. Perhaps I should have made a clean breast of it; but I do loathe explanations." [Illustration] Two days afterward Scrymgeour passed the father and daughter on the river. The lady said "Thank you" to him with her eyes, and, still more remarkable, the old gentleman bowed. Scrymgeour thought it over. "She is grateful to me," he concluded, "for drawing away suspicion from the other man, but what can have made the father so amiable? Suppose she has not told him that I am an impostor, he should still look upon me as a villain; and if she has told him, he should be still more furious. It is curious, but no affair of mine." Three times within the next few days he encountered the lady on the tow-path or elsewhere with a young gentleman of empty countenance, who, he saw must be the real Lothario. Once they passed him when he was in the shadow of a tree, and the lady was making pretty faces with a cigarette in her mouth. The house-boat _Heathen Chinee_ lay but a short distance off, and Scrymgeour could see the owner gazing after his daughter placidly, a pipe between his lips. [Illustration] "He must be approving of her conduct now," was my friend's natural conclusion. Then one forenoon Scrymgeour travelled to town in the same compartment as the old gentleman, who was exceedingly frank, and made sly remarks about romantic young people who met by stealth when there was no reason why they should not meet openly. "What does he mean?" Scrymgeour asked himself, uneasily. He saw terribly elaborate explanations gathering and shrank from them. Then Scrymgeour was one day out in a punt, when he encountered the old gentleman in a canoe. The old man said, purple with passion, that he was on his way to pay Mr. Scrymgeour a business visit. "Oh, yes," he continued, "I know who you are; if I had not discovered you were a man of means I would not have let the thing go on, and now I insist on an explanation." Explanations! They made for Scrymgeour's house-boat, with almost no words on the young man's part; but the father blurted out several things--as that his daughter knew where he was going when he left the _Heathen Chinee_, and that he had an hour before seen Scrymgeour making love to another girl. "Don't deny it!" cried the indignant father; "I recognized you by your velvet coat and broad hat." Then Scrymgeour began to see more clearly. The girl had encouraged the deception, and had been allowed to meet her lover because he was supposed to be no adventurer but the wealthy Mr. Scrymgeour. She must have told the fellow to get a coat and hat like his to help the plot. At the time the artist only saw all this in a jumble. Scrymgeour had bravely resolved to explain everything now; but his bewilderment may be conceived when, on entering his saloon with the lady's father, the first thing they saw was the lady herself. The old gentleman gasped, and his daughter looked at Scrymgeour imploringly. "Now," said the father fiercely, "explain." The lady's tears became her vastly. Hardly knowing what he did, Scrymgeour put his arm around her. "Well, go on," I said, when at this point Scrymgeour stopped. "There is no more to tell," he replied; "you see the girl allowed me to--well, protect her--and--and the old gentleman thinks we are engaged." "I don't wonder. What does the lady say?" "She says that she ran along the bank and got into my house-boat by the plank, meaning to see me before her father arrived and to entreat me to run away." "With her?" "No, without her." "But what does she say about explaining matters to her father?" "She says she dare not, and as for me, I could not. That was why I telegraphed to you." "You want me to be intercessor? No, Scrymgeour; your only honorable course is marriage." "But you must help me. It is all your fault, teaching me to like the Arcadia Mixture." I thought this so impudent of Scrymgeour that I bade him good-night at once. All the men on the stair are still confident that he would have married her, had the lady not cut the knot by eloping with Scrymgeour's double. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVII. THE ROMANCE OF A PIPE-CLEANER. [Illustration] We continued to visit the _Arcadia_, though only one at a time now, and Gilray, who went most frequently, also remained longest. In other words, he was in love again, and this time she lived at Cookham. Marriot's love affairs I pushed from me with a wave of my pipe, but Gilray's second case was serious. In time, however, he returned to the Arcadia Mixture, though not until the house-boat was in its winter quarters. I witnessed his complete recovery, the scene being his chambers. Really it is rather a pathetic story, and so I give the telling of it to a rose, which the lady once presented to Gilray. Conceive the rose lying, as I saw it, on Gilray's hearth-rug, and then imagine it whispering as follows: "A wire was round me that white night on the river when she let him take me from her. Then I hated the wire. Alas! hear the end. "My moments are numbered; and if I would expose him with my dying sigh, I must not sentimentalize over my own decay. They were in a punt, her hand trailing in the water, when I became his. When they parted that night at Cookham Lock, he held her head in his hands, and they gazed in each other's eyes. Then he turned away quickly; when he reached the punt again he was whistling. Several times before we came to the house-boat in which he and another man lived, he felt in his pocket to make sure that I was still there. At the house-boat he put me in a tumbler of water out of sight of his friend, and frequently he stole to the spot like a thief to look at me. Early next morning he put me in his buttonhole, calling me sweet names. When his friend saw me, he too whistled, but not in the same way. Then my owner glared at him. This happened many months ago. [Illustration] "Next evening I was in a garden that slopes to the river. I was on his breast, and so for a moment was she. His voice was so soft and low as he said to her the words he had said to me the night before, that I slumbered in a dream. When I awoke suddenly he was raging at her, and she cried. I know not why they quarrelled so quickly, but it was about some one whom he called 'that fellow,' while she called him a 'friend of papa's.' He looked at her for a long time again, and then said coldly that he wished her a very good-evening. She bowed and went toward a house, humming a merry air, while he pretended to light a cigarette made from a tobacco of which he was very fond. Till very late that night I heard him walking up and down the deck of the house-boat, his friend shouting to him not to be an ass. Me he had flung fiercely on the floor of the house-boat. About midnight he came downstairs, his face white, and, snatching me up, put me in his pocket. Again we went into the punt, and he pushed it within sight of the garden. There he pulled in his pole and lay groaning in the punt, letting it drift, while he called her his beloved and a little devil. Suddenly he took me from his pocket, kissed me, and cast me down from him into the night. I fell among reeds, head downward; and there I lay all through the cold, horrid night. The gray morning came at last, then the sun, and a boat now and again. I thought I had found my grave, when I saw his punt coming toward the reeds. He searched everywhere for me, and at last he found me. So delighted and affectionate was he that I forgave him my sufferings, only I was jealous of a letter in his other pocket, which he read over many times, murmuring that it explained everything. "Her I never saw again, but I heard her voice. He kept me now in a leather case in an inner pocket, where I was squeezed very flat. What they said to each other I could not catch; but I understood afterward, for he always repeated to me what he had been saying to her, and many times he was loving, many times angry, like a bad man. At last came a day when he had a letter from her containing many things he had given her, among them a ring on which she had seemed to set great store. What it all meant I never rightly knew, but he flung the ring into the Thames, calling her all the old wicked names and some new ones. I remember how we rushed to her house, along the bank this time, and that she asked him to be her brother; but he screamed denunciations at her, again speaking of 'that fellow,' and saying that he was going to-morrow to Manitoba. "So far as I know, they saw each other no more. He walked on the deck so much now that his friend went back to London, saying he could get no sleep. Sometimes we took long walks alone; often we sat for hours looking at the river, for on those occasions he would take me out of the leather case and put me on his knee. One day his friend came back and told him that he would soon get over it, he himself having once had a similar experience; but my master said no one had ever loved as he loved, and muttered 'Vixi, vixi' to himself till the other told him not to be a fool, but to come to the hotel and have something to eat. Over this they quarrelled, my master hinting that he would eat no more; but he ate heartily after his friend was gone. "After a time we left the house-boat, and were in chambers in a great inn. I was still in his pocket, and heard many conversations between him and people who came to see him, and he would tell them that he loathed the society of women. When they told him, as one or two did, that they were in love, he always said that he had gone through that stage ages ago. Still, at nights he would take me out of my case, when he was alone, and look at me; after which he walked up and down the room in an agitated manner and cried 'Vixi.' "By and by he left me in a coat that he was no longer wearing. Before this he had always put me into whatever coat he had on. I lay neglected, I think, for a month, until one day he felt the pockets of the coat for something else, and pulled me out. I don't think he remembered what was in the leather case at first; but as he looked at me his face filled with sentiment, and next day he took me with him to Cookham. The winter was come, and it was a cold day. There were no boats on the river. He walked up the bank to the garden where was the house in which she had lived; but the place was now deserted. On the garden gate he sat down, taking me from his pocket; and here, I think, he meant to recall the days that were dead. But a cold, piercing wind was blowing, and many times he looked at his watch, putting it to his ear as if he thought it had stopped. After a little he took to flinging stones into the water, for something to do; and then he went to the hotel and stayed there till he got a train back to London. We were home many hours before he meant to be back, and that night he went to a theatre. "That was my last day in the leather case. He keeps something else in it now. He flung me among old papers, smoking-caps, slippers, and other odds and ends into a box, where I have remained until to-night. A month or more ago he rummaged in the box for some old letters, and coming upon me unexpectedly, he jagged his finger on the wire. 'Where on earth did you come from?' he asked me. Then he remembered, and flung me back among the papers with a laugh. Now we come to to-night. An hour ago I heard him blowing down something, then stamping his feet. From his words I knew that his pipe was stopped. I heard him ring a bell and ask angrily who had gone off with his pipe-cleaners. He bustled through the room looking for them or for a substitute, and after a time he cried aloud, 'I have it; that would do; but where was it I saw the thing last?' He pulled out several drawers, looked through his desk, and then opened the box in which I lay. He tumbled its contents over until he found me, and then he pulled me out, exclaiming, 'Eureka!' My heart sank, for I understood all as I fell leaf by leaf on the hearth-rug where I now lie. He took the wire off me and used it to clean his pipe." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XVIII. WHAT COULD HE DO? This was another of Marriot's perplexities of the heart. He had been on the Continent, and I knew from his face, the moment he returned, that I would have a night of him. [Illustration] "On the 4th of September," he began, playing agitatedly with my tobacco-pouch, which was not for hands like his, "I had walked from Spondinig to Franzenshohe, which is a Tyrolese inn near the top of Stelvio Pass. From the inn to a very fine glacier is only a stroll of a few minutes; but the path is broken by a roaring stream. The only bridge across this stream is a plank, which seemed to give way as I put my foot on it. I drew back, for the stream would be called one long waterfall in England. Though a passionate admirer of courage, I easily lose my head myself, and I did not dare to venture across the plank. I walked up the stream, looking in vain for another crossing, and finally sat down on a wilderness of stones, from which I happened to have a good view of the plank. In parties of two and three a number of tourists strolled down the path; but they were all afraid to cross the bridge. I saw them test it with their alpenstocks; but none would put more than one foot on it. They gathered there at their wit's end. Suddenly I saw that there was some one on the plank. It was a young lady. I stood up and gazed. She was perhaps a hundred yards away from me; but I could distinctly make out her swaying, girlish figure, her deer-stalker cap, and the ends of her boa (as, I think, those long, furry things are called) floating in the wind. In a moment she was safe on the other side; but on the middle of the plank she had turned to kiss her hand to some of her more timid friends, and it was then that I fell in love with her. No doubt it was the very place for romance, if one was sufficiently clad; but I am not 'susceptible,' as it is called, and I had never loved before. On the other hand, I was always a firm believer in love at first sight, which, as you will see immediately, is at the very root of my present sufferings. "The other tourists, their fears allayed, now crossed the plank, but I hurried away anywhere; and found myself an hour afterward on a hillside, surrounded by tinkling cows. All that time I had been thinking of a plank with a girl on it. I returned hastily to the inn, to hear that the heroine of the bridge and her friends had already driven off up the pass. My intention had been to stay at Franzenshohe over night, but of course I at once followed the line of carriages which could be seen crawling up the winding road. It was no difficult matter to overtake them, and in half an hour I was within a few yards of the hindmost carriage. It contained her of whom I was in pursuit. Her back was toward me, but I recognized the cap and the boa. I confess that I was nervous about her face, which I had not yet seen. So often had I been disappointed in ladies when they showed their faces, that I muttered Jimmy's aphorism to myself: 'The saddest thing in life is that most women look best from the back.' But when she looked round all anxiety was dispelled. So far as your advice is concerned, it cannot matter to you what she was like. Briefly, she was charming. "I am naturally shy, and so had more difficulty in making her acquaintance than many travellers would have had. It was at the baths of Bormio that we came together. I had bribed a waiter to seat me next her father at dinner; but, when the time came, I could say nothing to him, so anxious was I to create a favorable impression. In the evening, however, I found the family gathered round a pole, with skittles at the foot of it. They were wondering how Italian skittles was played, and, though I had no idea, I volunteered to teach them. Fortunately none of them understood Italian, and consequently the expostulations of the boy in charge were disregarded. It is not my intention to dwell upon the never-to-be-forgotten days--ah, and still more the evenings--we spent at the baths of Bormio. I had loved her as she crossed the plank; but daily now had I more cause to love her, and it was at Bormio that she learned--I say it with all humility--to love me. The seat in the garden on which I proposed is doubtless still to be seen, with the chair near it on which her papa was at that very moment sitting, with one of his feet on a small table. During the three sunny days that followed, my life was one delicious dream, with no sign that the awakening was at hand. "So far I had not mentioned the incident at Franzenshohe to her. Perhaps you will call my reticence contemptible; but the fact is, I feared to fall in her esteem. I could not have spoken of the plank without admitting that I was afraid to cross it; and then what would she, who was a heroine, think of a man who was so little of a hero? Thus, though I had told her many times that I fell in love with her at first sight, she thought I referred to the time when she first saw me. She liked to hear me say that I believed in no love but love at first sight; and, looking back, I can recall saying it at least once on every seat in the garden at the baths of Bormio. "Do you know Tirano, a hamlet in a nest of vines, where Italian soldiers strut and women sleep in the sun beside baskets of fruit? How happily we entered it; were we the same persons who left it within an hour? I was now travelling with her party; and at Tirano, while the others rested, she and I walked down a road between vines and Indian corn. Why I should then have told her that I loved her for a whole day before she saw me I cannot tell. It may have been something she said, perhaps only an irresistible movement of her head; for her grace was ever taking me by surprise, and she was a revelation a thousand times a day. But whatever it was that made me speak out, I suddenly told her that I fell in love with her as she stood upon the plank at Franzenshohe. I remember her stopping short at a point where there had probably once been a gate to the vineyard, and I thought she was angry with me for not having told her of the Franzenshohe incident before. Soon the pallor of her face alarmed me. She entreated me to say it was not at Franzenshohe that I first loved her, and I fancied she was afraid lest her behavior on the bridge had seemed a little bold. I told her it was divine, and pictured the scene as only an anxious lover could do. Then she burst into tears, and we went back silently to her relatives. She would not say a word to me. [Illustration] "We drove to Sondrio, and before we reached it I dare say I was as pale as she. A horrible thought had flashed upon me. At Sondrio I took her papa aside, and, without telling him what had happened, questioned him about his impressions of Franzenshohe. 'You remember the little bridge,' he said, 'that we were all afraid to cross; by Jove! I have often wondered who that girl was that ventured over it first.' "I hastened away from him to think. My fears had been confirmed. It was not she who had first crossed the plank. Therefore it was not she with whom I had fallen in love. Nothing could be plainer than that I was in love with the wrong person. All the time I had loved another. But who was she? Besides, did I love her? Certainly not. Yes, but why did I love this one? The whole foundation of my love had been swept away. Yet the love remained. Which is absurd. "At Colico I put the difficulty to her father; but he is stout, and did not understand its magnitude. He said he could not see how it mattered. As for her, I have never mentioned it to her again; but she is always thinking of it, and so am I. A wall has risen up between us, and how to get over it or whether I have any right to get over it, I know not. Will you help me--and her?" "Certainly not," I said. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XIX. PRIMUS. Primus is my brother's eldest son, and he once spent his Easter holidays with me. I did not want him, nor was he anxious to come, but circumstances were too strong for us, and, to be just to Primus, he did his best to show me that I was not in his way. He was then at the age when boys begin to address each other by their surnames. I have said that I always took care not to know how much tobacco I smoked in a week, and therefore I may be hinting a libel on Primus when I say that while he was with me the Arcadia disappeared mysteriously. Though he spoke respectfully of the Mixture--as became my nephew--he tumbled it on to the table, so that he might make a telephone out of the tins, and he had a passion for what he called "snipping cigars." Scrymgeour gave him a cigar-cutter which was pistol-shaped. You put the cigar end in a hole, pull the trigger, and the cigar was snipped. The simplicity of the thing fascinated Primus, and after his return to school I found that he had broken into my Cabana boxes and snipped nearly three hundred cigars. [Illustration] As soon as he arrived Primus laid siege to the heart of William John, captured it in six hours, and demoralized it in twenty-four. We, who had known William John for years, considered him very practical, but Primus fired him with tales of dark deeds at "old Poppy's"--which was Primus's handy name for his preceptor--and in a short time William John was so full of romance that we could not trust him to black our boots. He and Primus had a scheme for seizing a lugger and becoming pirates, when Primus was to be captain, William John first lieutenant, and old Poppy a prisoner. To the crew was added a boy with a catapult, one Johnny Fox, who was another victim of the tyrant Poppy, and they practised walking the plank at Scrymgeour's window. The plank was pushed nearly half-way out at the window, and you walked up it until it toppled and you were flung into the quadrangle. Such was the romance of William John that he walked the plank with his arms tied, shouting scornfully, by request, "Captain Kidd, I defy you! ha, ha! the buccaneer does not live who will blanch the cheeks of Dick, the Doughty Tar!" Then William John disappeared, and had to be put in poultices. While William John was in bed slowly recovering from his heroism, the pirate captain and Johnny Fox got me into trouble by stretching a string across the square, six feet from the ground, against which many tall hats struck, to topple in the dust. An improved sling from the Lowther Arcade kept the glazier constantly in the inn. Primus and Johnny Fox strolled into Holborn, knocked a bootblack's cap off, and returned with lumps on their foreheads. They were observed one day in Hyde Park--whither it may be feared they had gone with cigarettes--running after sheep, from which ladies were flying, while street-arabs chased the pirates, and a policeman chased the street-arabs. The only book they read was the "Comic History of Rome," the property of Gilray. This they liked so much that Primus papered the inside of his box with pictures from it. The only authors they consulted me about were "two big swells" called Descartes and James Payn, of whom Primus discovered that the one could always work best in bed, while the other thought Latin and Greek a mistake. It was the intention of the pirates to call old Poppy's attention to these gentlemen's views. [Illustration] Soon after Primus came to me I learned that his schoolmaster had given him a holiday task. All the "fellows" in his form had to write an essay entitled "My Holidays, and How I Turned Them to Account," and to send it to their preceptor. Primus troubled his head little about the task while the composition of it was yet afar off; but as his time drew near he referred to it with indignation, and to his master's action in prescribing it as a "low trick." He frightened the housekeeper into tears by saying that he would not write a line of the task, and, what was more, he would "cheek" his master for imposing it; and I also heard that he and Johnny had some thought of writing the essay in a form suggested by their perusal of the "Comic History of Rome." One day I found a paper in my chambers which told me that the task was nevertheless receiving serious consideration. It was the instructions given by Primus's master with regard to the essay, which was to be "in the form of a letter," and "not less than five hundred words in length." The writer, it was suggested, should give a general sketch of how he was passing his time, what books he was reading, and "how he was making the home brighter." I did not know that Primus had risen equal to the occasion until one day after his departure, when I received his epistle from the schoolmaster, who wanted me to say whether it was a true statement. Here is Primus's essay on his holidays and how he made the home brighter: [Illustration] "RESPECTED SIR:--I venture to address you on a subject of jeneral interest to all engaged in education, and the subject I venture to address you on is, 'My Hollidays and How I Turned Them to Account.' Three weeks and two days has now elapsed since I quitted your scholastic establishment, and I quitted your scholastic establishment with tears in my eyes, it being the one of all the scholastic establishments I have been at that I loved to reside in, and everybody was of an amiable disposition. Hollidays is good for making us renew our studdies with redoubled vigor, the mussels needing to be invigorated, and I have not overworked mind and body in my hollidays. I found my uncle well, and drove in a handsome to the door, and he thought I was much improved both in appearance and manners; and I said it was jew to the loving care of my teacher making improvement in appearance and manners a pleasure to the youth of England. My uncle was partiklarly pleased with the improvement I had made, not only in my appearance and manners, but also in my studies; and I told him Casear was the Latin writer I liked best, and quoted '_veni, vidi, vici_,' and some others which I regret I cannot mind at present. With your kind permission I should like to write you a line about how I spend my days during the hollidays; and my first way of spending my days during the hollidays is whatsoever my hands find to do doing it with all my might; also setting my face nobly against hurting the fealings of others, and minding to say, before I go to sleep, 'Something attempted, something done, to earn a night's repose,' as advised by you, my esteemed communicant. I spend my days during the hollidays getting up early, so as to be down in time for breakfast, and not to give no trouble. At breakfast I behave like a model, so as to set a good example; and then I go out for a walk with my esteemed young friend, John Fox, whom I chose carefully for a friend, fearing to corrupt my morals by holding communications with rude boys. The J. Fox whom I mentioned is esteemed by all who knows him as of a unusually gentle disposition; and you know him, respected sir, yourself, he being in my form, and best known in regretble slang as 'Foxy.' We walks in Hyde Park admiring the works of nature, and keeps up our classics when we see a tree by calling it 'arbor' and then going through the declensions; but we never climbs trees for fear of messing the clothes bestowed upon us by our beloved parents in the sweat of their brow; and we scorns to fling stones at the beautiful warblers which fill the atmosfere with music. In the afternoons I spend my days during the hollidays talking with the housekeeper about the things she understands, like not taking off my flannels till June 15, and also praising the matron at the school for seeing about the socks. In the evening I devote myself to whatever good cause I can think of; and I always take off my boots and put on my slippers, so as not to soil the carpet. I should like, respected sir, to inform you of the books I read when my duties does not call me elsewhere; and the books I read are the works of William Shakespeare, John Milton, Albert Tennyson, and Francis Bacon. Me and John Fox also reads the 'History of Rome,' so as to prime ourselves with the greatness of the past; and we hopes the glorious examples of Romulus and Remus, but especially Hannibal, will sink into our minds to spur us along. I am desirous to acquaint you with the way I make my uncle's home brighter; but the 500 words is up. So looking forward eagerly to resume my studdies, I am, respected sir, your dilligent pupil." [Illustration] CHAPTER XX. PRIMUS TO HIS UNCLE. [Illustration] Though we all pretended to be glad when Primus went, we spoke of him briefly at times, and I read his letters aloud at our evening meetings. Here is a series of them from my desk. Primus was now a year and a half older and his spelling had improved. I. _November 16th._ DEAR UNCLE:--Though I have not written to you for a long time I often think about you and Mr. Gilray and the rest and the Arcadia Mixture, and I beg to state that my mother will have informed you I am well and happy but a little overworked, as I am desirous of pleasing my preceptor by obtaining a credible position in the exams, and we breakfast at 7:30 sharp. I suppose you are to give me a six-shilling thing again as a Christmas present, so I drop you a line not to buy something I don't want, as it is only thirty-nine days to Christmas. I think I'll have a book again, but not a fairy tale or any of that sort, nor the "Swiss Family Robinson," nor any of the old books. There is a rattling story called "Kidnapped," by H. Rider Haggard, but it is only five shillings, so if you thought of it you could make up the six shillings by giving me a football belt. Last year you gave me "The Formation of Character," and I read it with great mental improvement and all that, but this time I want a change, namely, (1) not a fairy tale, (2) not an old book, (3) not mental improvement book. Don't fix on anything without telling me first what it is. Tell William John I walked into Darky and settled him in three rounds. Best regards to Mr. Gilray and the others. II. _November 19th_. DEAR UNCLE:--Our preceptor is against us writing letters he doesn't see, so I have to carry the paper to the dormitory up my waistcoat and write there, and I wish old Poppy smoked the Arcadia Mixture to make him more like you. Never mind about the football belt, as I got Johnny Fox's for two white mice; so I don't want "Kidnapped," which I wrote about to you, as I want you to stick to six-shilling book. There is one called "Dead Man's Rock" that Dickson Secundus has heard about, and it sounds well; but it is never safe to go by the name, so don't buy it till I hear more about it. If you see biographies of it in the newspapers you might send them to me, as it should be about pirates by the title, but the author does not give his name, which is rather suspicious. So, remember, don't buy it yet, and also find out price, whether illustrated, and how many pages. Ballantyne's story this year is about the fire-brigade; but I don't think I'll have it, as he is getting rather informative, and I have one of his about the fire-brigade already. Of course I don't fix not to have it, only don't buy it at present. Don't buy "Dead Man's Rock" either. I am working diligently, and tell the housekeeper my socks is all right. We may fix on "Dead Man's Rock," but it is best not to be in a hurry. III. _November 24th_. DEAR UNCLE:--I don't think I'll have "Dead Man's Rock," as Hope has two stories out this year, and he is a safe man to go to. The worst of it is that they are three-and-six each, and Dickson Secundus says they are continuations of each other, so it is best to have them both or neither. The two at three-and-six would make seven shillings, and I wonder if you would care to go that length this year. I am getting on first rate with my Greek, and will do capital if my health does not break down with overpressure. Perhaps if you bought the two you would get them for 6s. 6d. Or what do you say to the housekeeper's giving me a shilling of it, and not sending the neckties? [Illustration] IV. _November 26th._ DEAR UNCLE:--I was disappointed at not hearing from you this morning, but conclude you are very busy. I don't want Hope's books, but I think I'll rather have a football. We played Gloucester on Tuesday and beat them all to sticks (five goals two tries to one try!!!). It would cost 7s. 6d., and I'll make up the one-and-six myself out of my pocket-money; but you can pay it all just now, and then I'll pay you later when I am more flush than I am at present. I'd better buy it myself, or you might not get the right kind, so you might send the money in a postal order by return. You get the postal orders at the nearest postoffice, and inclose them in a letter. I want the football at once. (1) Not a book of any kind whatever; (2) a football, but I'll buy it myself; (3) price 7s. 6d.; (4) send postal order. V. _November 29th._ DEAR UNCLE:--Kindly inform William John that I am in receipt of his favor of yesterday prox., and also your message, saying am I sure it is a football I want. I have to inform you that I have changed my mind and think I'll stick to a book (or two books according to price), after all. Dickson Secundus has seen a newspaper biography of "Dead Man's Rock" and it is ripping, but, unfortunately, there is a lot in it about a girl. So don't buy "Dead Man's Rock" for me. I told Fox about Hope's two books and he advises me to get one of them (3s. 6d.), and to take the rest of the money (2s. 6d.) in cash, making in all six shillings. I don't know if I should like that plan, though fair to both parties, as Dickson Secundus once took money from his father instead of a book and it went like winking with nothing left to show for it; but I'll think it over between my scholastic tasks and write to you again, so do nothing till you hear from me, and mind I don't want football. VI. _December 3d_. DEAR UNCLE:--Don't buy Hope's books. There is a grand story out by Jules Verne about a man who made a machine that enabled him to walk on his head through space with seventy-five illustrations; but the worst of it is it costs half a guinea. Of course I don't ask you to give so much as that; but it is a pity it cost so much, as it is evidently a ripping book, and nothing like it. Ten-and-six is a lot of money. What do you think? I inclose for your consideration a newspaper account of it, which says it will fire the imagination and teach boys to be manly and self-reliant. Of course you could not give it to me; but I think it would do me good, and am working so hard that I have no time for physical exercise. It is to be got at all booksellers. P.S.--Fox has read "Dead Man's Rock," and likes it A 1. VII. _December 4th._ DEAR UNCLE:--I was thinking about Jules Verne's book last night after I went to bed, and I see a way of getting it which both Dickson Secundus and Fox consider fair. I want you to give it to me as my Christmas present for both this year and next year. Thus I won't want a present from you next Christmas; but I don't mind that so long as I get this book. One six-shilling book this year and another next year would come to 12s., and Jules Verne's book is only 10s. 6d., so this plan will save you 1s. 6d. in the long run. I think you should buy it at once, in case they are all sold out before Christmas. VIII. _December 5th._ MY DEAR UNCLE:--I hope you haven't bought the book yet, as Dickson Secundus has found out that there is a shop in the Strand where all the books are sold cheap. You get threepence off every shilling, so you would get a ten-and-six book for 7s. 10-1/2d. That will let you get me a cheapish one next year, after all. I inclose the address. IX. _December 7th_. DEAR UNCLE:--Dickson Secundus was looking to-day at "The Formation of Character," which you gave me last year, and he has found out that it was bought in the shop in the Strand that I wrote you about, so you got it for 4s. 6d. We have been looking up the books I got from you at other Christmases, and they all have the stamp on them which shows they were bought at that shop. Some of them I got when I was a kid, and that was the time you gave me 2s. and 3s. 6d. books; but Dickson Secundus and Fox have been helping me to count up how much you owe me as follows: _Nominal_ _Price_ _Price_ _Paid_ _£_ _s._ _d._ _s._ _d._ 1850 "Sunshine and Shadow" 0 2 0 1 6 1881 "Honesty Jack" 0 2 0 1 6 1882 "The Boy Makes the Man" 0 3 6 2 7-1/2 1883 "Great Explorers" 0 3 6 2 7-1/2 1884 "Shooting the Rapids" 0 3 6 2 7-1/2 1885 "The Boy Voyagers" 0 5 0 3 9 1886 "The Formation of Character" 0 6 0 4 6 ____________ ___________ 1 5 6 19 1-1/2 0 19 1-1/2 _____________ 0 6 4-1/2 Thus 6s. 4-1/2d. is the exact sum. The best plan will be for you not to buy anything for me till I get my holidays, when my father is to bring me to London. Tell William John I am coming. P.S.--I told my father about the Arcadia Mixture, and that is why he is coming to London. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXI. ENGLISH-GROWN TOBACCO. Pettigrew asked me to come to his house one evening and test some tobacco that had been grown in his brother's Devonshire garden. I had so far had no opportunity of judging for myself whether this attempt to grow tobacco on English soil was to succeed. Very complimentary was Pettigrew's assertion that he had restrained himself from trying the tobacco until we could test it in company. At the dinner-table while Mrs. Pettigrew was present we managed to talk for a time of other matters; but the tobacco was on our minds, and I was glad to see that, despite her raillery, my hostess had a genuine interest in the coming experiment. She drew an amusing picture, no doubt a little exaggerated, of her husband's difficulty in refraining from testing the tobacco until my arrival, declaring that every time she entered the smoking-room she found him staring at it. Pettigrew took this in good part, and informed me that she had carried the tobacco several times into the drawing-room to show it proudly to her friends. He was very delighted, he said, that I was to remain over night, as that would give us a long evening to test the tobacco thoroughly. A neighbor of his had also been experimenting; and Pettigrew, who has a considerable sense of humor, told me a diverting story about this gentleman and his friends having passed judgment on home-grown tobacco after smoking one pipe of it! We were laughing over the ridiculously unsatisfactory character of this test (so called) when we adjourned to the smoking-room. Before we did so Mrs. Pettigrew bade me good-night. She had also left strict orders with the servants that we were on no account to be disturbed. As soon as we were comfortably seated in our smoking-chairs, which takes longer than some people think, Pettigrew offered me a Cabana. I would have preferred to begin at once with the tobacco; but of course he was my host, and I put myself entirely in his hands. I noticed that, from the moment his wife left us, he was a little excited, talking more than is his wont. He seemed to think that he was not doing his duty as a host if the conversation flagged for a moment, and what was still more curious, he spoke of everything except his garden tobacco. I emphasize this here at starting, lest any one should think that I was in any way responsible for the manner in which our experiment was conducted. If fault there was, it lies at Pettigrew's door. I remember distinctly asking him--not in a half-hearted way, but boldly--to produce his tobacco. I did this at an early hour of the proceedings, immediately after I had lighted a second cigar. The reason I took that cigar will be obvious to every gentleman who smokes. Had I declined it, Pettigrew might have thought that I disliked the brand, which would have been painful to him. However, he did not at once bring out the tobacco; indeed, his precise words, I remember, were that we had lots of time. As his guest I could not press him further. Pettigrew smokes more quickly than I do, and he had reached the end of his second cigar when there was still five minutes of mine left. It distresses me to have to say what followed. He hastily lighted a third cigar, and then, unlocking a cupboard, produced about two ounces of his garden tobacco. His object was only too plain. Having just begun a third cigar he could not be expected to try the tobacco at present, but there was nothing to prevent my trying it. I regarded Pettigrew rather contemptuously, and then I looked with much interest at the tobacco. It was of an inky color. When I looked up I caught Pettigrew's eye on me. He withdrew it hurriedly, but soon afterward I saw him looking in the same sly way again. There was a rather painful silence for a time, and then he asked me if I had anything to say. I replied firmly that I was looking forward to trying the tobacco with very great interest. By this time my cigar was reduced to a stump, but, for reasons that Pettigrew misunderstood, I continued to smoke it. Somehow our chairs had got out of position now, and we were sitting with our backs to each other. I felt that Pettigrew was looking at me covertly over his shoulder, and took a side glance to make sure of this. Our eyes met, and I bit my lip. If there is one thing I loathe, it is to be looked at in this shame-faced manner. I continued to smoke the stump of my cigar until it scorched my under-lip, and at intervals Pettigrew said, without looking round, that my cigar seemed everlasting. I treated his innuendo with contempt; but at last I had to let the cigar-end go. Not to make a fuss, I dropped it very quietly; but Pettigrew must have been listening for the sound. He wheeled round at once, and pushed the garden tobacco toward me. Never, perhaps, have I thought so little of him as at that moment. My indignation probably showed in my face, for he drew back, saying that he thought I "wanted to try it." Now I had never said that I did not want to try it. The reader has seen that I went to Pettigrew's house solely with the object of trying the tobacco. Had Pettigrew, then, any ground for insinuating that I did not mean to try it? Restraining my passion, I lighted a third cigar, and then put the question to him bluntly. Did he, or did he not, mean to try that tobacco? I dare say I was a little brusque; but it must be remembered that I had come all the way from the inn, at considerable inconvenience, to give the tobacco a thorough trial. [Illustration] As is the way with men of Pettigrew's type, when you corner them, he attempted to put the blame on me. "Why had I not tried the tobacco," he asked, "instead of taking a third cigar?" For reply, I asked bitingly if that was not his third cigar. He admitted it was, but said that he smoked more quickly than I did, as if that put his behavior in a more favorable light. I smoked my third cigar very slowly, not because I wanted to put off the experiment; for, as every one must have noted, I was most anxious to try it, but just to see what would happen. When Pettigrew had finished his cigar--and I thought he would never be done with it--he gazed at the garden tobacco for a time, and then took a pipe from the mantelpiece. He held it first in one hand, then in the other, and then he brightened up and said he would clean his pipes. This he did very slowly. When he had cleaned all his pipes he again looked at the garden tobacco, which I pushed toward him. He glared at me as if I had not been doing a friendly thing, and then said, in an apologetic manner, that he would smoke a pipe until my cigar was finished. I said "All right" cordially, thinking that he now meant to begin the experiment; but conceive my feelings when he produced a jar of the Arcadia Mixture. He filled his pipe with this and proceeded to light it, looking at me defiantly. His excuse about waiting till I had finished was too pitiful to take notice of. I finished my cigar in a few minutes, and now was the time when I would have liked to begin the experiment. As Pettigrew's guest, however, I could not take that liberty, though he impudently pushed the garden tobacco toward me. I produced my pipe, my intention being only to half fill it with Arcadia, so that Pettigrew and I might finish our pipes at the same time. Custom, however, got the better of me, and inadvertently I filled my pipe, only noticing this when it was too late to remedy the mistake. Pettigrew thus finished before me; and though I advised him to begin on the garden tobacco without waiting for me, he insisted on smoking half a pipeful of Arcadia, just to keep me company. It was an extraordinary thing that, try as we might, we could not finish our pipes at the same time. About 2 A.M. Pettigrew said something about going to bed; and I rose and put down my pipe. We stood looking at the fireplace for a time, and he expressed regret that I had to leave so early in the morning. Then he put out two of the lights, and after that we both looked at the garden tobacco. He seemed to have a sudden idea; for rather briskly he tied the tobacco up into a neat paper parcel and handed it to me, saying that I would perhaps give it a trial at the inn. I took it without a word, but opening my hand suddenly I let it fall. My first impulse was to pick it up; but then it struck me that Pettigrew had not noticed what had happened, and that, were he to see me pick it up, he might think that I had not taken sufficient care of it. So I let it lie, and, bidding him good-night, went off to bed. I was at the foot of the stair when I thought that, after all, I should like the tobacco, so I returned. I could not see the package anywhere, but something was fizzing up the chimney, and Pettigrew had the tongs in his hand. He muttered something about his wife taking up wrong notions. Next morning that lady was very satirical about our having smoked the whole two ounces. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXII. HOW HEROES SMOKE. On a tiger-skin from the ice-clad regions of the sunless north recline the heroes of Ouida, rose-scented cigars in their mouths; themselves gloriously indolent and disdainful, but perhaps huddled a little too closely together on account of the limited accommodation. Strathmore is here. But I never felt sure of Strathmore. Was there not less in him than met the eye? His place, Whiteladies, was a home for kings and queens; but he was not the luxurious, magnanimous creature he feigned to be. A host may be known by the cigars he keeps; and, though it is perhaps a startling thing to say, we have good reason for believing that Strathmore did not buy good cigars. I question very much whether he had many Havanas, even of the second quality, at Whiteladies; if he had, he certainly kept them locked up. Only once does he so much as refer to them when at his own place, and then in the most general and suspicious way. "Bah!" he exclaims to a friend; "there is Phil smoking these wretched musk-scented cigarettes again! they are only fit for Lady Georgie or Eulalie Papellori. What taste, when there are my Havanas and cheroots!" The remark, in whatever way considered, is suggestive. In the first place, it is made late in the evening, after Strathmore and his friend have left the smoking-room. Thus it is a safe observation. I would not go so far as to say that he had no Havanas in the house; the likelihood is that he had a few in his cigar-case, kept there for show rather than use. These, if I understand the man, would be a good brand, but of small size--perhaps Reinas--and they would hardly be of a well-known crop. In color they would be dark--say maduro--and he would explain that he bought them because he liked full-flavored weeds. Possibly he had a Villar y Villar box with six or eight in the bottom of it; but boxes are not cigars. What he did provide his friends with was Manillas. He smoked them himself, and how careful he was of them is seen on every other page. He is constantly stopping in the middle of his conversation to "curl a loose leaf round his Manilla;" when one would have expected a hero like Strathmore to fling away a cigar when its leaves began to untwist, and light another. So thrifty is Strathmore that he even laboriously "curls the leaves round his cigarettes"--he does not so much as pretend that they are Egyptian; nay, even when quarrelling with Errol, his beloved friend (whom he shoots through the heart), he takes a cigarette from his mouth and "winds a loosened leaf" round it. [Illustration] If Strathmore's Manillas were Capitan Generals they would cost him about 24s. a hundred. The probability, however, is that they were of inferior quality; say, 17s. 6d. It need hardly be said that a good Manilla does not constantly require to have its leaves "curled." When Errol goes into the garden to smoke, he has every other minute to "strike a fusee;" from which it may be inferred that his cigar frequently goes out. This is in itself suspicious. Errol, too, is more than once seen by his host wandering in the grounds at night, with a cigar between his teeth. Strathmore thinks his susceptible friend has a love affair on hand; but is it not at least as probable an explanation that Errol had a private supply of cigars at Whiteladies, and from motives of delicacy did not like to smoke them in his host's presence? Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a good cigar, though we are not told how he came by it. When talking of the Vavasour, he "sticks his penknife through his Cabana," with the object, obviously, of smoking it to the bitter end. Another lady novelist, who is also an authority on tobacco, Miss Rhoda Broughton, contemptuously dismisses a claimant for the heroship of one of her stories, as the kind of man who turns up his trousers at the foot. It would have been just as withering to say that he stuck a penknife through his cigars. [Illustration] There is another true hero with me, whose creator has unintentionally misrepresented him. It is he of "Comin' thro' the Rye," a gentleman whom the maidens of the nineteenth century will not willingly let die. He is grand, no doubt; and yet, the more one thinks about him, the plainer it becomes that had the heroine married him she would have been bitterly disenchanted. In her company he was magnanimous; god-like, prodigal; but in his smoking-room he showed himself in his true colors. Every lady will remember the scene where he rushes to the heroine's home and implores her to return with him to the bedside of his dying wife. The sudden announcement that his wife--whom he had thought in a good state of health--is dying, is surely enough to startle even a miser out of his niggardliness, much less a hero; and yet what do we find Vasher doing? The heroine, in frantic excitement, has to pass through his smoking room, and on the table she sees--what? "A half-smoked cigar." He was in the middle of it when a servant came to tell him of his wife's dying request; and, before hastening to execute her wishes, he carefully laid what was left of his cigar upon the table--meaning, of course, to relight it when he came back. Though she did not think so, our heroine's father was a much more remarkable man than Vasher. He "blew out long, comfortable clouds" that made the whole of his large family "cough and wink again." No ordinary father could do that. Among my smoking-room favorites is the hero of Miss Adeline Sergeant's story, "Touch and Go." He is a war correspondent; and when he sees a body of the enemy bearing down upon him and the wounded officer whom he has sought to save, he imperturbably offers his companion a cigar. They calmly smoke on while the foe gallop up. There is something grand in this, even though the kind of cigar is not mentioned. [Illustration] I see a bearded hero, with slouch hat and shepherd's crook, a clay pipe in his mouth. He is a Bohemian--ever a popular type of hero; and the Bohemian is to be known all the world over by the pipe, which he prefers to a cigar. The tall, scornful gentleman who leans lazily against the door, "blowing great clouds of smoke into the air," is the hero of a hundred novels. That is how he is always standing when the heroine, having need of something she has left in the drawing-room, glides down the stairs at night in her dressing-gown (her beautiful hair, released from its ribbons, streaming down her neck and shoulders), and comes most unexpectedly upon him. He is young. The senior, over whose face "a smile flickers for a moment" when the heroine says something naïve, and whom she (entirely misunderstanding her feelings) thinks she hates, smokes unostentatiously; but though a little inclined to quiet "chaff," he is a man of deep feeling. By and by he will open out and gather her up in his arms. The scorner's chair is filled. I see him, shadow-like, a sad-eyed, _blasé_ gentleman, who has been adored by all the beauties of fifteen seasons, and yet speaks of woman with a contemptuous sneer. Great, however, is love; and the vulgar little girl who talks slang will prove to him in our next volume that there is still one peerless beyond all others of her sex. Ah, a wondrous thing is love! On every side of me there are dark, handsome men, with something sinister in their smile, "casting away their cigars with a muffled curse." No novel would be complete without them. When they are foiled by the brave girl of the narrative, it is the recognized course with them to fling away their cigars with a muffled curse. Any kind of curse would do, but muffled ones are preferred. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXIII. THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS EVE. [Illustration] A few years ago, as some may remember, a startling ghost-paper appeared in the monthly organ of the Society for Haunting Houses. The writer guaranteed the truth of his statement, and even gave the name of the Yorkshire manor-house in which the affair took place. The article and the discussion to which it gave rise agitated me a good deal, and I consulted Pettigrew about the advisability of clearing up the mystery. The writer wrote that he "distinctly saw his arm pass through the apparition and come out at the other side," and indeed I still remember his saying so next morning. He had a scared face, but I had presence of mind to continue eating my rolls and marmalade as if my brier had nothing to do with the miraculous affair. [Illustration] Seeing that he made a "paper" of it, I suppose he is justified in touching up the incidental details. He says, for instance, that we were told the story of the ghost which is said to haunt the house, just before going to bed. As far as I remember, it was only mentioned at luncheon, and then sceptically. Instead of there being snow falling outside and an eerie wind wailing through the skeleton trees, the night was still and muggy. Lastly, I did not know, until the journal reached my hands, that he was put into the room known as the Haunted Chamber, nor that in that room the fire is noted for casting weird shadows upon the walls. This, however, may be so. The legend of the manor-house ghost he tells precisely as it is known to me. The tragedy dates back to the time of Charles I., and is led up to by a pathetic love-story, which I need not give. Suffice it that for seven days and nights the old steward had been anxiously awaiting the return of his young master and mistress from their honeymoon. On Christmas eve, after he had gone to bed, there was a great clanging of the door-bell. Flinging on a dressing-gown, he hastened downstairs. According to the story, a number of servants watched him, and saw by the light of his candle that his face was an ashy white. He took off the chains of the door, unbolted it, and pulled it open. What he saw no human being knows; but it must have been something awful, for, without a cry, the old steward fell dead in the hall. Perhaps the strangest part of the story is this: that the shadow of a burly man, holding a pistol in his hand, entered by the open door, stepped over the steward's body, and, gliding up the stairs, disappeared, no one could say where. Such is the legend. I shall not tell the many ingenious explanations of it that have been offered. Every Christmas eve, however, the silent scene is said to be gone through again; and tradition declares that no person lives for twelve months at whom the ghostly intruder points his pistol. On Christmas Day the gentleman who tells the tale in a scientific journal created some sensation at the breakfast-table by solemnly asserting that he had seen the ghost. Most of the men present scouted his story, which may be condensed into a few words. He had retired to his bedroom at a fairly early hour, and as he opened the door his candle-light was blown out. He tried to get a light from the fire, but it was too low, and eventually he went to bed in the semi-darkness. He was wakened--he did not know at what hour--by the clanging of a bell. He sat up in bed, and the ghost-story came in a rush to his mind. His fire was dead, and the room was consequently dark; yet by and by he knew, though he heard no sound, that his door had opened. He cried out, "Who is that?" but got no answer. By an effort he jumped up and went to the door, which was ajar. His bedroom was on the first floor, and looking up the stairs he could see nothing. He felt a cold sensation at his heart, however, when he looked the other way. Going slowly and without a sound down the stairs, was an old man in a dressing-gown. He carried a candle. From the top of the stairs only part of the hall is visible, but as the apparition disappeared the watcher had the courage to go down a few steps after him. At first nothing was to be seen, for the candle-light had vanished. A dim light, however, entered by the long, narrow windows which flank the hall door, and after a moment the on-looker could see that the hall was empty. He was marvelling at this sudden disappearance of the steward, when, to his horror, he saw a body fall upon the hall floor within a few feet of the door. The watcher cannot say whether he cried out, nor how long he stood there trembling. He came to himself with a start as he realized that something was coming up the stairs. Fear prevented his taking flight, and in a moment the thing was at his side. Then he saw indistinctly that it was not the figure he had seen descend. He saw a younger man, in a heavy overcoat, but with no hat on his head. He wore on his face a look of extravagant triumph. The guest boldly put out his hand toward the figure. To his amazement his arm went through it. The ghost paused for a moment and looked behind it. It was then the watcher realized that it carried a pistol in its right hand. He was by this time in a highly strung condition, and he stood trembling lest the pistol should be pointed at him. The apparition, however, rapidly glided up the stairs and was soon lost to sight. Such are the main facts of the story, none of which I contradicted at the time. [Illustration] [Illustration] I cannot say absolutely that I can clear up this mystery, but my suspicions are confirmed by a good deal of circumstantial evidence. This will not be understood unless I explain my strange infirmity. Wherever I went I used to be troubled with a presentiment that I had left my pipe behind. Often, even at the dinner-table, I paused in the middle of a sentence as if stricken with sudden pain. Then my hand went down to my pocket. Sometimes even after I felt my pipe, I had a conviction that it was stopped, and only by a desperate effort did I keep myself from producing it and blowing down it. I distinctly remember once dreaming three nights in succession that I was on the Scotch express without it. More than once, I know, I have wandered in my sleep, looking for it in all sorts of places, and after I went to bed I generally jumped out, just to make sure of it. My strong belief, then, is that I was the ghost seen by the writer of the paper. I fancy that I rose in my sleep, lighted a candle, and wandered down to the hall to feel if my pipe was safe in my coat, which was hanging there. The light had gone out when I was in the hall. Probably the body seen to fall on the hall floor was some other coat which I had flung there to get more easily at my own. I cannot account for the bell; but perhaps the gentleman in the Haunted Chamber dreamed that part of the affair. I had put on the overcoat before reascending; indeed I may say that next morning I was surprised to find it on a chair in my bedroom, also to notice that there were several long streaks of candle-grease on my dressing-gown. I conclude that the pistol, which gave my face such a look of triumph, was my brier, which I found in the morning beneath my pillow. The strangest thing of all, perhaps, is that when I awoke there was a smell of tobacco-smoke in the bedroom. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXIV. NOT THE ARCADIA. [Illustration] Those who do not know the Arcadia may have a mixture that their uneducated palate loves, but they are always ready to try other mixtures. The Arcadian, however, will never help himself from an outsider's pouch. Nevertheless, there was one black week when we all smoked the ordinary tobaccoes. Owing to a terrible oversight on the part of our purveyor, there was no Arcadia to smoke. We ought to have put our pipes aside and existed on cigars; but the pipes were old friends, and desert them we could not. Each of us bought a different mixture, but they tasted alike and were equally abominable. I fell ill. Doctor Southwick, knowing no better, called my malady by a learned name, but I knew to what I owed it. Never shall I forget my delight when Jimmy broke into my room one day with a pound-tin of the Arcadia. Weak though I was, I opened my window and, seizing the half-empty packet of tobacco that had made me ill, hurled it into the street. The tobacco scattered before it fell, but I sat at the window gloating over the packet, which lay a dirty scrap of paper, where every cab might pass over it. What I call the street is more strictly a square, for my windows were at the back of the inn, and their view was somewhat plebeian. The square is the meeting-place of five streets, and at the corner of each the paper was caught up in a draught that bore it along to the next. Here, it may be thought, I gladly forgot the cause of my troubles, but I really watched the paper for days. My doctor came in while I was still staring at it, and instead of prescribing more medicine, he made a bet with me. It was that the scrap of paper would disappear before the dissolution of the government. I said it would be fluttering around after the government was dissolved, and if I lost, the doctor was to get a new stethoscope. If I won, my bill was to be accounted discharged. Thus, strange as it seemed, I had now cause to take a friendly interest in paper that I had previously loathed. Formerly the sight of it made me miserable; now I dreaded losing it. But I looked for it when I rose in the morning, and I could tell at once by its appearance what kind of night it had passed. Nay, more: I believed I was able to decide how the wind had been since sundown, whether there had been much traffic, and if the fire-engine had been out. There is a fire-station within view of the windows, and the paper had a specially crushed appearance, as if the heavy engine ran over it. However, though I felt certain that I could pick my scrap of paper out of a thousand scraps, the doctor insisted on making sure. The bet was consigned to writing on the very piece of paper that suggested it. The doctor went out and captured it himself. On the back of it the conditions of the wager were formally drawn up and signed by both of us. Then we opened the window and the paper was cast forth again. The doctor solemnly promised not to interfere with it, and I gave him a convalescent's word of honor to report progress honestly. Several days elapsed, and I no longer found time heavy on my hands. My attention was divided between two papers, the scrap in the square and my daily copy of the _Times_. Any morning the one might tell me that I had lost my bet, or the other that I had won it; and I hurried to the window fearing that the paper had migrated to another square, and hoping my _Times_ might contain the information that the government was out. I felt that neither could last very much longer. It was remarkable how much my interest in politics had increased since I made this wager. [Illustration] The doctor, I believe, relied chiefly on the scavengers. He thought they were sure to pounce upon the scrap soon. I did not, however, see why I should fear them. They came into the square so seldom, and stayed so short a time when they did come, that I disregarded them. If the doctor knew how much they kept away he might say I bribed them. But perhaps he knew their ways. I got a fright one day from a dog. It was one of those low-looking animals that infest the square occasionally in half-dozens, but seldom alone. It ran up one of the side streets, and before I realized what had happened it had the paper in its mouth. Then it stood still and looked around. For me that was indeed a trying moment. I stood at the window. The impulse seized me to fling open the sash and shake my fist at the brute; but luckily I remembered in time my promise to the doctor. I question if man was ever so interested in mongrel before. At one of the street corners there was a house to let, being meantime, as I had reason to believe, in the care of the wife of a police constable. A cat was often to be seen coming up from the area to lounge in the doorway. To that cat I firmly believe I owe it that I did not then lose my wager. Faithful animal! it came up to the door, it stretched itself; in the act of doing so it caught sight of the dog, and put up its back. The dog, resenting this demonstration of feeling, dropped the scrap of paper and made for the cat. I sank back into my chair. There was a greater disaster to be recorded next day. A workingman in the square, looking about him for a pipe-light, espied the paper frisking near the curb-stone. He picked it up with the obvious intention of lighting it at the stove of a wandering vender of hot chestnuts who had just crossed the square. The workingman followed, twisting the paper as he went, when--good luck again--a young butcher almost ran into him, and the loafer, with true presence of mind, at once asked him for a match. At any rate a match passed between them; and, to my infinite relief, the paper was flung away. I concealed the cause of my excitement from William John. He nevertheless wondered to see me run to the window every time the wind seemed to be rising, and getting anxious when it rained. Seeing that my health prevented my leaving the house, he could not make out why I should be so interested in the weather. Once I thought he was fairly on the scent. A sudden blast of wind had caught up the paper and whirled it high in the air. I may have uttered an ejaculation, for he came hurrying to the window. He found me pointing unwittingly to what was already a white speck sailing to the roof of the fire-station. "Is it a pigeon?" he asked. I caught at the idea. "Yes, a carrier-pigeon," I murmured in reply; "they sometimes, I believe, send messages to the fire-stations in that way." Coolly as I said this, I was conscious of grasping the window-sill in pure nervousness till the scrap began to flutter back into the square. Next it was squeezed between two of the bars of a drain. That was the last I saw of it, and the following morning the doctor had won his stethoscope--only by a few hours, however, for the government's end was announced in the evening papers. My defeat discomfited me for a little, but soon I was pleased that I had lost. I would not care to win a bet over any mixture but the Arcadia. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXV. A FACE THAT HAUNTED MARRIOT. "This is not a love affair," Marriot shouted, apologetically. He had sat the others out again, but when I saw his intention I escaped into my bedroom, and now refused to come out. "Look here," he cried, changing his tone, "if you don't come out I'll tell you all about it through the keyhole. It is the most extraordinary story, and I can't keep it to myself. On my word of honor it isn't a love affair--at least not exactly." I let him talk after I had gone to bed. "You must know," he said, dropping cigarette ashes onto my pillow every minute, "that some time ago I fell in with Jack Goring's father, Colonel Goring. Jack and I had been David and Jonathan at Cambridge, and though we had not met for years, I looked forward with pleasure to meeting him again. He was a widower, and his father and he kept joint house. But the house was dreary now, for the colonel was alone in it. Jack was off on a scientific expedition to the Pacific; all the girls had been married for years. After dinner my host and I had rather a dull hour in the smoking-room. I could not believe that Jack had grown very stout. 'I'll show you his photograph,' said the colonel. An album was brought down from a dusty shelf, and then I had to admit that my old friend had become positively corpulent. But it is not Jack I want to speak about. I turned listlessly over the pages of the album, stopping suddenly at the face of a beautiful girl. You are not asleep, are you? "I am not naturally sentimental, as you know, and even now I am not prepared to admit that I fell in love with this face. It was not, I think, that kind of attraction. Possibly I should have passed the photograph by had it not suggested old times to me--old times with a veil over them, for I could not identify the face. That I had at some period of my life known the original I felt certain, but I tapped my memory in vain. The lady was a lovely blonde, with a profusion of fair hair, and delicate features that were Roman when they were not Greek. To describe a beautiful woman is altogether beyond me. No doubt this face had faults. I fancy, for instance, that there was little character in the chin, and that the eyes were 'melting' rather than expressive. It was a vignette, the hands being clasped rather fancifully at the back of the head. My fingers drummed on the album as I sat there pondering; but when or where I had met the original I could not decide. The colonel could give me no information. The album was Jack's, he said, and probably had not been opened for years. The photograph, too, was an old one; he was sure it had been in the house long before his son's marriage, so that (and here the hard-hearted old gentleman chuckled) it could no longer be like the original. As he seemed inclined to become witty at my expense, I closed the album, and soon afterward I went away. I say, wake up! [Illustration] "From that evening the face haunted me. I do not mean that it possessed me to the exclusion of everything else, but at odd moments it would rise before me, and then I fell into a revery. You must have noticed my thoughtfulness of late. Often I have laid down my paper at the club and tried to think back to the original. She was probably better known to Jack Goring than to myself. All I was sure of was that she had been known to both of us. Jack and I had first met at Cambridge. I thought over the ladies I had known there, especially those who had been friends of Goring's. Jack had never been a 'lady's man' precisely; but, as he used to say, comparing himself with me, 'he had a heart.' The annals of our Cambridge days were searched in vain. I tried the country house in which he and I had spent a good many of our vacations. Suddenly I remembered the reading-party in Devonshire--but no, she was dark. Once Jack and I had a romantic adventure in Glencoe in which a lady and her daughter were concerned. We tried to make the most of it; but in our hearts we knew, after we had seen her by the morning light, that the daughter was not beautiful. Then there was the French girl at Algiers. Jack had kept me hanging on in Algiers a week longer than we meant to stay. The pose of the head, the hands clasped behind it, a trick so irritatingly familiar to me--was that the French girl? No, the lady I was struggling to identify was certainly English. I'm sure you're asleep. "A month elapsed before I had an opportunity of seeing the photograph again. An idea had struck me which I meant to carry out. This was to trace the photograph by means of the photographer. I did not like, however, to mention the subject to Colonel Goring again, so I contrived to find the album while he was out of the smoking-room. The number of the photograph and the address of the photographer were all I wanted; but just as I had got the photograph out of the album my host returned. I slipped the thing quickly into my pocket, and he gave me no chance of replacing it. Thus it was owing to an accident that I carried the photograph away. My theft rendered me no assistance. True, the photographer's name and address were there; but when I went to the place mentioned it had disappeared to make way for 'residential chambers.' I have a few other Cambridge friends here, and I showed some of these the photograph. One, I am now aware, is under the impression that I am to be married soon, but the others were rational. Grierson, of the War Office, recognized the portrait at once. 'She is playing small parts at the Criterion,' he said. Finchley, who is a promising man at the bar, also recognized her. 'Her portraits were in all the illustrated papers five years ago,' he told me, 'at the time when she got twelve months.' They contradicted each other about her, however, and I satisfied myself that she was neither an actress at the Criterion nor the adventuress of 1883. It was, of course, conceivable that she was an actress, but if so her face was not known in the fancy stationers' windows. Are you listening? "I saw that the mystery would remain unsolved until Jack's return home; and when I had a letter from him a week ago, asking me to dine with him to-night, I accepted eagerly. He was just home, he said, and I would meet an old Cambridge man. We were to dine at Jack's club, and I took the photograph with me. I recognized Jack as soon as I entered the waiting-room of the club. A very short, very fat, smooth-faced man was sitting beside him, with his hands clasped behind his head. I believe I gasped. 'Don't you remember Tom Rufus,' Jack asked, 'who used to play the female part at the Cambridge A.D.C.? Why, you helped me to choose his wig at Fox's. I have a photograph of him in costume somewhere at home. You might recall him by his trick of sitting with his hands clasped behind his head.' I shook Rufus's hand. I went in to dinner, and probably behaved myself. Now that it is over I cannot help being thankful that I did not ask Jack for the name of the lady before I saw Rufus. Good-night. I think I've burned a hole in the pillow." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXVI. ARCADIANS AT BAY. I have said that Jimmy spent much of his time in contributing to various leading waste-paper baskets, and that of an evening he was usually to be found prone on my hearth-rug. When he entered my room he was ever willing to tell us what he thought of editors, but his meerschaum with the cherry-wood stem gradually drove all passion from his breast, and instead of upbraiding more successful men than himself, he then lazily scribbled letters to them on my wall-paper. The wall to the right of the fireplace was thick with these epistles, which seemed to give Jimmy relief, though William John had to scrape and scrub at them next morning with india-rubber. Jimmy's sarcasm--to which that wall-paper can probably still speak--generally took this form: _To G. Buckle, Esq., Columbia Road, Shoreditch_. SIR:--I am requested by Mr. James Moggridge, editor of the _Times_, to return you the inclosed seven manuscripts, and to express his regret that there is at present no vacancy in the sub-editorial department of the _Times_ such as Mr. Buckle kindly offers to fill. Yours faithfully, P. R. (for J. Moggridge, Ed. _Times_). _To Mr. James Knowles, Brick Lane, Spitalfields_. DEAR SIR:--I regret to have to return the inclosed paper, which is not quite suitable for the _Nineteenth Century_. I find that articles by unknown men, however good in themselves, attract little attention. I inclose list of contributors for next month, including, as you will observe, seven members of upper circles, and remain your obedient servant, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Nineteenth Century_. _To Mr. W Pollock, Mile-End Road, Stepney_. SIR:--I have on two previous occasions begged you to cease sending daily articles to the _Saturday_. Should this continue we shall be reluctantly compelled to take proceedings against you. Why don't you try the _Sporting Times?_ Yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Saturday Review._ _To Messrs. Sampson, Low & Co., Peabody Buildings, Islington._ DEAR SIRS:--The manuscript which you forwarded for our consideration has received careful attention; but we do not think it would prove a success, and it is therefore returned to you herewith. We do not care to publish third-rate books. We remain yours obediently, J. MOGGRIDGE & CO. (late Sampson, Low & Co.). _To H. Quilter, Esq., P.O. Bethnal Green._ SIR:--I have to return your paper on Universal Art. It is not without merit; but I consider art such an important subject that I mean to deal with it exclusively myself. With thanks for kindly appreciation of my new venture, I am yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Universal Review._ _To John Morley, Esq., Smith Street, Blackwall._ SIR:--Yes, I distinctly remember meeting you on the occasion to which you refer, and it is naturally gratifying to me to hear that you enjoy my writing so much. Unfortunately, however, I am unable to accept your generous offer to do Lord Beaconsfield for the "English Men of Letters" series, as the volume has been already arranged for. Yours sincerely, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. "English Men of Letters" series. _To F. C. Burnand, Esq., Peebles, N.B._ SIR:--The jokes which you forwarded to _Punch_ on Monday last are so good that we used them three years ago. Yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Punch_. _To Mr. D'Oyley Carte, Cross Stone Buildings, Westminster Bridge Road._ DEAR SIR:--The comic opera by your friends Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan, which you have submitted to me, as sole lessee and manager of the Savoy Theatre, is now returned to you unread. The little piece, judged from its title-page, is bright and pleasing, but I have arranged with two other gentlemen to write my operas for the next twenty-one years. Faithfully yours, J. MOGGRIDGE, Sole Lessee and Manager Savoy Theatre. [Illustration] _To James Ruskin, Esq., Railway Station Hotel, Willisden._ SIR:--I warn you that I will not accept any more copies of your books. I do not know the individual named Tennyson to whom you refer; but if he is the scribbler who is perpetually sending me copies of his verses, please tell him that I read no poetry except my own. Why can't you leave me alone? J. MOGGRIDGE, Poet Laureate. These letters of Jimmy's remind me of our famous competition, which took place on the night of the Jubilee celebrations. When all the rest of London (including William John) was in the streets, the Arcadians met as usual, and Scrymgeour, at my request, put on the shutters to keep out the din. It so happened that Jimmy and Gilray were that night in wicked moods, for Jimmy, who was so anxious to be a journalist, had just had his seventeenth article returned from the _St. John's Gazette_, and Gilray had been "slated" for his acting of a new part, in all the leading papers. They were now disgracing the tobacco they smoked by quarrelling about whether critics or editors were the more disreputable class, when in walked Pettigrew, who had not visited us for months. Pettigrew is as successful a journalist as Jimmy is unfortunate, and the pallor of his face showed how many Jubilee articles he had written during the past two months. Pettigrew offered each of us a Splendidad (his wife's new brand), which we dropped into the fireplace. Then he filled my little Remus with Arcadia, and sinking weariedly into a chair, said: "My dear Jimmy, the curse of journalism is not that editors won't accept our articles, but that they want too many from us." This seemed such monstrous nonsense to Jimmy that he turned his back on Pettigrew, and Gilray broke in with a diatribe against critics. "Critics," said Pettigrew, "are to be pitied rather than reviled." Then Gilray and Jimmy had a common foe. Whether it was Pettigrew's appearance among us or the fireworks outside that made us unusually talkative that night I cannot say, but we became quite brilliant, and when Jimmy began to give us his dream about killing an editor, Gilray said that he had a dream about criticising critics; and Pettigrew, not to be outdone, said that he had a dream of what would become of him if he had to write any more Jubilee articles. Then it was that Marriot suggested a competition. "Let each of the grumblers," he said, "describe his dream, and the man whose dream seems the most exhilarating will get from the judges a Jubilee pound-tin of the Arcadia." The grumblers agreed, but each wanted the others to dream first. At last Jimmy began as follows: [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXVII. JIMMY'S DREAM. I see before me (said Jimmy, savagely) a court, where I, James Moggridge, am arraigned on a charge of assaulting the editor of the _St. John's Gazette_ so as to cause death. Little interest is manifested in the case. On being arrested I had pleaded guilty, and up to to-day it had been anticipated that the matter would be settled out of court. No apology, however, being forthcoming, the law has to take its course. The defence is that the assault was fair comment on a matter of public interest, and was warranted in substance and in fact. On making his appearance in the dock the prisoner is received with slight cheering. Mr. John Jones is the first witness called for the prosecution. He says: I am assistant editor of the _St. John's Gazette_. It is an evening newspaper of pronounced Radical views. I never saw the prisoner until to-day, but I have frequently communicated with him. It was part of my work to send him back his articles. This often kept me late. In cross-examination the witness denies that he has ever sent the prisoner other people's articles by mistake. Pressed, he says, he may have done so once. The defendant generally inclosed letters with his articles, in which he called attention to their special features. Sometimes these letters were of a threatening nature, but there was nothing unusual in that. Cross-examined: The letters were not what he would call alarming. He had not thought of taking any special precautions himself. Of course, in his position, he had to take his chance. So far as he could remember, it was not for his own sake that the prisoner wanted his articles published, but in the interests of the public. He, the prisoner, was vexed, he said, to see the paper full of such inferior matter. Witness had frequently seen letters to the editor from other disinterested contributors couched in similar language. If he was not mistaken, he saw a number of these gentlemen in court. (Applause from the persons referred to.) Mr. Snodgrass says: I am a poet. I do not compose during the day. The strain would be too great. Every evening I go out into the streets and buy the latest editions of the evening journals. If there is anything in them worthy commemoration in verse, I compose. There is generally something. I cannot say to which paper I send most of my poems, as I send to all. One of the weaknesses of the _St. John's Gazette_ is its poetry. It is not worthy of the name. It is doggerel. I have sought to improve it, but the editor rejected my contributions. I continued to send them, hoping that they would educate his taste. One night I had sent him a very long poem which did not appear in the paper next day. I was very indignant, and went straight to the office. That was on Jubilee Day. I was told that the editor had left word that he had just gone into the country for two days. (Hisses.) I forced my way up the stairs, however, and when I reached the top I did not know which way to go. There were a number of doors with "No admittance" printed on them. (More hissing.) I heard voices in altercation in a room near me. I thought that was likely to be the editor's. I opened the door and went in. The prisoner was in the room. He had the editor on the floor and was jumping on him. I said, "Is that the editor?" He said, "Yes." I said, "Have you killed him?" He said, "Yes," again. I said, "Oh!" and went away. That is all I remember of the affair. [Illustration] Cross-examined: It did not occur to me to interfere. I thought very little of the affair at the time. I think I mentioned it to my wife in the evening; but I will not swear to that. I am not the Herr Bablerr who compelled his daughter to marry a man she did not love, so that I might write an ode in celebration of the nuptials. I have no daughter. I am a poet. The foreman printer deposed to having had his attention called to the murder of the editor about three o'clock. He was very busy at the time. About an hour afterward he saw the body and put a placard over it. He spoke of the matter to the assistant editor, who suggested that they had better call in the police. That was done. A clerk in the counting-house says: I distinctly remember the afternoon of the murder. I can recall it without difficulty, as it was on the following evening that I went to the theatre--a rare occurrence with me. I was running up the stairs when I met a man coming down. I recognized the prisoner as that man. He said, "I have killed your editor." I replied, "Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself." We had no further conversation. J. O'Leary is next called. He says: I am an Irishman by birth. I had to fly my country when an iniquitous Coercion Act was put in force. At present I am a journalist, and I write Fenian letters for the _St. Johns Gazette_. I remember the afternoon of the murder. It was the sub-editor who told me of it. He asked me if I would write a "par" on the subject for the fourth edition. I did so; but as I was in a hurry to catch a train it was only a few lines. We did him fuller justice next day. Cross-examined: Witness denies that he felt any elation on hearing that a new topic had been supplied for writing on. He was sorry rather. A policeman gives evidence that about half-past four on Jubilee Day he saw a small crowd gather round the entrance to the offices of the _St. John's Gazette_. He thought it his duty to inquire into the matter. He went inside and asked an office-boy what was up. The boy said he thought the editor had been murdered, but advised him to inquire upstairs. He did so, and the boy's assertion was confirmed. He came down again and told the crowd that it was the editor who had been killed. The crowd then dispersed. A detective from Scotland Yard explains the method of the prisoner's capture. Moggridge wrote to the superintendent saying that he would be passing Scotland Yard on the following Wednesday on business. Three detectives, including witness, were told off to arrest him, and they succeeded in doing so. (Loud and prolonged applause.) The judge interposes here. He fails, he says, to see that this evidence is relevant. So far as he can see, the question is not whether a murder has been committed, but whether, under the circumstances, it is a criminal offence. The prisoner should never have been tried here at all. It was a case for the petty sessions. If the counsel cannot give some weighty reason for proceeding with further evidence, he will now put it to the jury. [Illustration] After a few remarks from the counsel for the prosecution and the counsel for the defence, who calls attention to the prisoner's high and unblemished character, the judge sums up. It is for the jury, he says, to decide whether the prisoner has committed a criminal offence. That was the point; and in deciding it the jury should bear in mind the desirability of suppressing merely vexatious cases. People should not go to law over trifles. Still, the jury must remember that, without exception, all human life was sacred. After some further remarks from the judge, the jury (who deliberate for rather more than three-quarters of an hour) return a verdict of guilty. The prisoner is sentenced to a fine of five florins, or three days' imprisonment. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXVIII. GILRAY'S DREAM. Conceive me (said Gilray, with glowing face) invited to write a criticism of the Critics' Dramatic Society for the _Standard_. I select the _Standard_, because that paper has treated me most cruelly. However, I loathe them all. My dream is the following criticism: What is the Critics' Dramatic Society? We found out on Wednesday afternoon, and, as we went to Drury Lane in the interests of the public, it is only fair that the public should know too. Besides, in that case we can all bear it together. Be it known, then, that this Dramatic Society is composed of "critics" who gave "The School for Scandal" at a matinée on Wednesday just to show how the piece should be played. Mr. Augustus Harris had "kindly put the theatre at their disposal," for which he will have to answer when he joins Sheridan in the Elysian Fields. As the performance was by far the worst ever perpetrated, it would be a shame to deprive the twentieth century of the programme. Some of the players, as will be seen, are too well known to escape obloquy. The others may yet be able to sink into oblivion. Sir Peter Teazle MR. JOHN RUSKIN. Joseph Surface MR. W. E. HENLEY. Charles Surface MR. HARRY LABOUCHERE. Crabtree MR. W. ARCHER. Sir Benjamin Backbite MR. CLEMENT SCOTT. Moses MR. WALTER SICHEL. Old Rowley MR. JOSEPH KNIGHT. Sir Oliver MR. W.H. POLLOCK. Trip MR. G. A. SALA. Snake MR. MOY THOMAS. Sir Harry Bumper (with song) MR. GEORGE MOORE. Servants, Guests, etc. MESSRS. SAVILLE CLARKE, JOSEPH HATTON, PERCY FITZGERALD, etc. Assisted by Lady Teazle MISS ROSIE LE DENE. Mrs. Candour MISS JENNY MONTALBAN. Lady Sneerwell MISS ROSALIND LABELLE (The Hon. Mrs. Major TURNLEY). Maria MISS JONES. It was a sin of omission on the part of the Critics' Dramatic Society not to state that the piece played was "a new and original comedy" in many acts. Had they had the courage to do this, and to change the title, no one would even have known. On the other hand, it was a sin of commission to allow that Professor Henry Morley was responsible for the stage management; Mr. Morley being a man of letters whom some worthy people respect. But perhaps sins of omission and commission counterbalance. The audience was put in a bad humor before the performance began, owing to the curtain's rising fifteen minutes late. However, once the curtain did rise, it was an unconscionable time in falling. What is known as the "business" of the first act, including the caterwauling of Sir Benjamin Backbite and Crabtree in their revolutions round Joseph, was gone through with a deliberation that was cruelty to the audience, and just when the act seemed over at last these indefatigable amateurs began to dance a minuet. A sigh ran round the theatre at this--a sigh as full of suffering as when a minister, having finished his thirdly and lastly, starts off again, with, "I cannot allow this opportunity to pass." Possibly the Critics' Dramatic Society are congratulating themselves on the undeniable fact that the sighs and hisses grew beautifully less as the performance proceeded. But that was because the audience diminished too. One man cannot be expected to sigh like twenty; though, indeed, some of the audience of Wednesday sighed like at least half a dozen. [Illustration] If it be true that all men--even critics--have their redeeming points and failings, then was there no Charles and no Joseph Surface at this unique matinée. For the ungainly gentleman who essayed the part of Charles made, or rather meant to make, him spotless; and Mr. Henley's Joseph was twin-brother to Mr. Irving's Mephistopheles. Perhaps the idea of Mr. Labouchere and his friend, Mr. Henley, was that they would make one young man between them. They found it hard work. Mr. Labouchere has yet to learn that buffoonery is not exactly wit, and that Charles Surfaces who dig their uncle Olivers in the ribs, and then turn to the audience for applause, are among the things that the nineteenth century can do without. According to the programme, Mr. George Moore--the Sir Harry Bumper--was to sing the song, "Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen." Mr. Moore did not sing it, but Mr. Labouchere did. The explanation of this, we understand, was not that Sir Harry's heart failed him at the eleventh hour, but that Mr. Labouchere threatened to fling up his part unless the song was given to him. However, Mr. Moore heard Mr. Labouchere singing the song, and that was revenge enough for any man. To Mr. Henley the part of Joseph evidently presented no serious difficulties. In his opinion, Joseph is a whining hypocrite who rolls his eyes when he wishes to look natural. Obviously he is a slavish admirer of Mr. Irving. If Joseph had taken his snuff as this one does, Lady Sneerwell would have sent him to the kitchen. If he had made love to Lady Teazle as this one does, she would have suspected him of weak intellect. Sheridan's Joseph was a man of culture: Mr. Henley's is a buffoon. It is not, perhaps, so much this gentleman's fault as his misfortune that his acting is without either art or craft; but then he was not compelled to play Joseph Surface. Indeed, we may go further, and say that if he is a man with friends he must have been dissuaded from it. The Sir Peter Teazle of Mr. Ruskin reminded us of other Sir Peter Teazles--probably because Sir Peter is played nowadays with his courtliness omitted. [Illustration] Mr. William Archer was the Crabtree, or rather Mr. Archer and the prompter between them. Until we caught sight of the prompter we had credited Mr. Archer with being a ventriloquist given to casting his voice to the wings. Mr. Clement Scott--their Benjamin Backbite--was a ventriloquist too, but not in such a large way as Mr. Archer. His voice, so far as we could make out from an occasional rumble, was in his boots, where his courage kept it company. There was no more ambitious actor in the cast than Mr. Pollock. Mr. Pollock was Sir Oliver, and he gave a highly original reading of that old gentleman. What Mr. Pollock's private opinion of the character of Sir Oliver may be we cannot say; it would be worth an interviewer's while to find out. But if he thinks Sir Oliver was a windmill, we can inform him at once that he is mistaken. Of Mr. Sichel's Moses all that occurs to us to say is that when he let his left arm hang down and raised the other aloft, he looked very like a tea-pot. Mr. Joseph Knight was Old Rowley. In that character all we saw of him was his back; and we are bound to admit that it was unexceptional. Sheridan calls one of his servants Snake, and the other Trip. Mr. Moy Thomas tried to look as like a snake as he could, and with some success. The Trip of Mr. Sala, however, was a little heavy, and when he came between the audience and the other actors there was a temporary eclipse. As for the minor parts, the gentlemen who personated them gave a capital rendering of supers suffering from stage-fever. Wednesday is memorable in the history of the stage, but we would forget it if we could. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXIX. PETTIGREW'S DREAM. My dream (said Pettigrew) contrasts sadly with those of my young friends. They dream of revenge, but my dream is tragic. I see my editor writing my obituary notice. This is how it reads: Mr. Pettigrew, M.A., whose sad death is recorded in another column, was in his forty-second year (not his forty-fourth, as stated in the evening papers), and had done a good deal of Jubilee work before he accepted the commission that led to his death. It is an open secret that he wrote seventy of the Jubilee sketches which have appeared in this paper. The pamphlet now selling in the streets for a penny, entitled "Jubilees of the Past," was his. He wrote the introductory chapter to "Fifty Years of Progress," and his "Jubilee Statesmen" is now in a second edition. The idea of a collection of Jubilee odes was not his, but the publisher's. At the same time, his friends and relatives attach no blame to them. Mr. Pettigrew shivered when the order was given to him, but he accepted it, and the general impression among those who knew him was that a man who had survived "Jubilee Statesmen" could do anything. As it turns out, we had overestimated Mr. Pettigrew's powers of endurance. [Illustration] As "The Jubilee Odes" will doubtless yet be collected by another hand, little need be said here of the work. Mr. Pettigrew was to make his collection as complete as the limited space at his disposal (two volumes) would allow; the only original writing in the book being a sketch of the various schemes suggested for the celebration of the Jubilee. It was this sketch that killed him. On the morning of the 27th, when he intended beginning it, he rose at an unusually early hour, and was seen from the windows of the house pacing the garden in an apparently agitated state of mind. He ate no breakfast. One of his daughters states that she noticed a wild look in his eyes during the morning meal; but, as she did not remark on it at the time, much stress need not be laid on this. The others say that he was unusually quiet and silent. All, however, noticed one thing. Generally, when he had literary work to do, he was anxious to begin upon his labors, and spent little time at the breakfast-table. On this occasion he sat on. Even after the breakfast things were removed he seemed reluctant to adjourn to the study. His wife asked him several times if he meant to begin "The Jubilee Odes" that day, and he always replied in the affirmative. But he talked nervously of other things; and, to her surprise--though she thought comparatively little of it at the time--drew her on to a discussion on summer bonnets. As a rule, this was a subject which he shunned. At last he rose, and, going slowly to the window, looked out for a quarter of an hour. His wife asked him again about "The Jubilee Odes," and he replied that he meant to begin directly. Then he went round the morning-room, looking at the pictures on the walls as if for the first time. After that he leaned for a little while against the mantelpiece, and then, as if an idea had struck him, began to wind up the clock. He went through the house winding up the clocks, though this duty was usually left to a servant; and when that was over he came back to the breakfast-room and talked about Waterbury watches. His wife had to go to the kitchen, and he followed her. On their way back they passed the nursery, and he said he thought he would go in and talk to the nurse. This was very unlike him. At last his wife said that it would soon be luncheon-time, and then he went to the study. Some ten minutes afterward he wandered into the dining-room, where she was arranging some flowers. He seemed taken aback at seeing her, but said, after a moment's thought, that the study door was locked and he could not find the key. This astonished her, as she had dusted the room herself that morning. She went to see, and found the study door standing open. When she returned to the dining-room he had disappeared. They searched for him everywhere, and eventually discovered him in the drawing-room, turning over a photograph album. He then went back to the study. His wife accompanied him, and, as was her custom, filled his pipe for him. He smoked a mixture to which he was passionately attached. He lighted his pipe several times, but it always went out. His wife put a new nib into his pen, placed some writing material on the table, and then retired, shutting the door behind her. [Illustration] About half an hour afterward Mrs. Pettigrew sent one of the children to the study on a trifling errand. As he did not return she followed him. She found him sitting on his father's knee, where she did not remember ever having seen him before. Mr. Pettigrew was holding his watch to the boy's ears. The study table was littered with several hundreds of Jubilee odes. Other odes had slipped to the floor. Mrs. Pettigrew asked how he was getting on, and her unhappy husband replied that he was just going to begin. His hands were trembling, and he had given up trying to smoke. He sought to detain her by talking about the boy's curls; but she went away, taking the child with her. As she closed the door he groaned heavily, and she reopened it to ask if he felt unwell. He answered in the negative, and she left him. The last person to see Mr. Pettigrew alive was Eliza Day, the housemaid. She took a letter to him between twelve and one o'clock. Usually he disliked being disturbed at his writing; but this time, in answer to her knock, he cried eagerly, "Come in!" When she entered he insisted on her taking a chair, and asked her how all her people were, and if there was anything he could do for them. Several times she rose to leave, but he would not allow her to do so. Eliza mentioned this in the kitchen when she returned to it. Her master was naturally a reserved man who seldom spoke to his servants, which rendered his behavior on this occasion the more remarkable. [Illustration] As announced in the evening papers yesterday, the servant sent to the study at half-past one to see why Mr. Pettigrew was not coming to lunch, found him lifeless on the floor. The knife clutched in his hand showed that he had done the fatal deed himself; and Dr. Southwick, of Hyde Park, who was on the spot within ten minutes of the painful discovery, is of opinion that life had been extinct for about half an hour. The body was lying among Jubilee odes. On the table were a dozen or more sheets of "copy," which, though only spoiled pages, showed that the deceased had not succumbed without a struggle. On one he had begun, "Fifty years have come and gone since a fair English maiden ascended the throne of England." Another stopped short at, "To every loyal Englishman the Jubil----" A third sheet commenced with, "Though there have been a number of royal Jubilees in the history of the world, probably none has awakened the same interest as----" and a fourth began, "1887 will be known to all future ages as the year of Jub----" One sheet bore the sentence, "Heaven help me!" and it is believed that these were the last words the deceased ever penned. Mr. Pettigrew was a most estimable man in private life, and will be greatly missed in the circles to which he had endeared himself. He leaves a widow and a small family. It may be worth adding that when discovered dead, there was a smile upon his face, as if he had at last found peace. He must have suffered great agony that forenoon, and his death is best looked upon as a happy release. * * * * * Marriot, Scrymgeour and I awarded the tin of Arcadia to Pettigrew, because he alone of the competitors seemed to believe that his dream might be realized. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXX. THE MURDER IN THE INN. Sometimes I think it is all a dream, and that I did not really murder the waits. Perhaps they are living still. Yet the scene is very vivid before me, though the affair took place--if it ever did take place--so long ago that I cannot be expected to remember the details. The time when I must give up smoking was drawing near, so that I may have been unusually irritable, and determined, whatever the cost, to smoke my last pound-tin of the Arcadia in peace. I think my brier was in my mouth when I did it, but after the lapse of months I cannot say whether there were three of them or only two. So far as I can remember, I took the man with the beard first. The incident would have made more impression on me had there been any talk about it. So far as I could discover, it never got into the papers. The porters did not seem to think it any affair of theirs, though one of them must have guessed why I invited the waits upstairs. He saw me open the door to them; he was aware that this was their third visit in a week; and only the night before he had heard me shout a warning to them from my inn window. But of course the porters must allow themselves a certain discretion in the performance of their duties. Then there was the pleasant gentleman of the next door but two, who ran against me just as I was toppling the second body over the railing. We were not acquainted, but I knew him as the man who had flung a water-jug at the waits the night before. He stopped short when he saw the body (it had rolled out of the sofa-rug), and looked at me suspiciously. "He is one of the waits," I said. "I beg your pardon," he replied, "I did not understand." When he had passed a few yards he turned round. "Better cover him up," he said; "our people will talk." Then he strolled away, an air from "The Grand Duchess" lightly trolling from his lips. We still meet occasionally, and nod if no one is looking. I am going too fast, however. What I meant to say was that the murder was premeditated. In the case of a reprehensible murder I know this would be considered an aggravation of the offence. Of course, it is an open question whether all the murders are not reprehensible; but let that pass. To my own mind I should have been indeed deserving of punishment had I rushed out and slain the waits in a moment of fury. If one were to give way to his passion every time he is interrupted in his work or his sleep by bawlers our thoroughfares would soon be choked with the dead. No one values human life or understands its sacredness more than I do. I merely say that there may be times when a man, having stood a great deal and thought it over calmly, is justified in taking the law into his own hands--always supposing he can do it decently, quietly, and without scandal. The epidemic of waits broke out early in December, and every other night or so these torments came in the still hours and burst into song beneath my windows. They made me nervous. I was more wretched on the nights they did not come than on the nights they came; for I had begun to listen for them, and was never sure they had gone into another locality before four o'clock in the morning. As for their songs, they were more like music-hall ditties than Christmas carols. So one morning--it was, I think, the 23d of December--I warned them fairly, fully, and with particulars, of what would happen if they disturbed me again. Having given them this warning, can it be said that I was to blame--at least, to any considerable extent? Christmas eve had worn into Christmas morning before the waits arrived on that fateful occasion. I opened the window--if my memory does not deceive me--at once, and looked down at them. I could not swear to their being the persons whom I had warned the night before. Perhaps I should have made sure of this. But in any case these were practised waits. Their whine rushed in at my open window with a vigor that proved them no tyros. Besides, the night was a cold one, and I could not linger at an open casement. I nodded pleasantly to the waits and pointed to my door. Then I ran downstairs and let them in. They came up to my chambers with me. As I have said, the lapse of time prevents my remembering how many of them there were; three, I fancy. At all events, I took them into my bedroom and strangled them one by one. They went off quite peaceably; the only difficulty was in the disposal of the bodies. I thought of laying them on the curb-stone in different passages; but I was afraid the police might not see that they were waits, in which case I might be put to inconvenience. So I took a spade and dug two (or three) large holes in the quadrangle of the inn. Then I carried the bodies to the place in my rug, one at a time, shoved them in, and covered them up. A close observer might have noticed in that part of the quadrangle, for some time after, a small mound, such as might be made by an elbow under the bed-clothes. Nobody, however, seems to have descried it, and yet I see it often even now in my dreams. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXXI. THE PERILS OF NOT SMOKING. [Illustration] When the Arcadians heard that I had signed an agreement to give up smoking they were first incredulous, then sarcastic, then angry. Instead of coming, as usual, to my room, they went one night in a body to Pettigrew's, and there, as I afterward discovered, a scheme for "saving me" was drawn up. So little did they understand the firmness of my character, that they thought I had weakly yielded to the threats of the lady referred to in my first chapter, when, of course, I had only yielded to her arguments, and they agreed to make an appeal on my behalf to her. Pettigrew, as a married man himself, was appointed intercessor, and I understand that the others not only accompanied him to her door, but waited in an alley until he came out. I never knew whether the reasoning brought to bear on the lady was of Pettigrew's devising, or suggested by Jimmy and the others, but it was certainly unselfish of Pettigrew to lie so freely on my account. At the time, however, the plot enraged me, for the lady conceived the absurd idea that I had sent Pettigrew to her. Undoubtedly it was a bold stroke. Pettigrew's scheme was to play upon his hostess's attachment for me by hinting to her that if I gave up smoking I would probably die. Finding her attentive rather than talkative, he soon dared to assure her that he himself loathed tobacco and only took it for his health. "By the doctor's orders, mark you," he said, impressively; "Dr. Southwick, of Hyde Park." She expressed polite surprise at this, and then Pettigrew, believing he had made an impression, told his story as concocted. "My own case," he said, "is one much in point. I suffered lately from sore throat, accompanied by depression of spirits and loss of appetite. The ailment was so unusual with me that I thought it prudent to put myself in Dr. Southwick's hands. As far as possible I shall give you his exact words: "'When did you give up smoking?' he asked, abruptly, after examining my throat. [Illustration] "'Three months ago,' I replied, taken by surprise; 'but how did you know I had given it up?' "'Never mind how I know,' he said, severely; 'I told you that, however much you might desire to do so, you were not to take to not smoking. This is how you carry out my directions.' "'Well,' I answered sulkily, 'I have been feeling so healthy for the last two years that I thought I could indulge myself a little. You are aware how I abominate tobacco.' "'Quite so,' he said, 'and now you see the result of this miserable self-indulgence. Two years ago I prescribed tobacco for you, to be taken three times a day, and you yourself admit that it made a new man of you. Instead of feeling thankful you complain of the brief unpleasantness that accompanies its consumption, and now, in the teeth of my instructions, you give it up. I must say the ways of patients are a constant marvel to me.' "'But how,' I asked, 'do you know that my reverting to the pleasant habit of not smoking is the cause of my present ailment?' "'Oh!' he said, 'you are not sure of that yourself, are you?' "'I thought,' I replied, 'there might be a doubt about it; though of course I have forgotten what you told me two years ago.' "'It matters very little,' he said, 'whether you remember what I tell you if you do not follow my orders. But as for knowing that indulgence in not smoking is what has brought you to this state, how long is it since you noticed these symptoms?' "'I can hardly say,' I answered. 'Still, I should be able to think back. I had my first sore throat this year the night I saw Mr. Irving at the Lyceum, and that was on my wife's birthday, the 3d of October. How long ago is that?' "'Why, that is more than three months ago. Are you sure of the date?'" "'Quite certain,' I told him; 'so, you see, I had my first sore throat before I risked not smoking again.'" "'I don't understand this,' he said. 'Do you mean to say that in the beginning of May you were taking my prescription daily? You were not missing a day now and then--forgetting to order a new stock of cigars when the others were done, or flinging them away before they were half smoked? Patients do such things.' "'No, I assure you I compelled myself to smoke. At least----' "'At least what? Come, now, if I am to be of any service to you, there must be no reserve.' "'Well, now that I think of it, I was only smoking one cigar a day at that time.' "'Ah! we have it now,' he cried. 'One cigar a day, when I ordered you three? I might have guessed as much. When I tell non-smokers that they must smoke or I will not be answerable for the consequences, they entreat me to let them break themselves of the habit of not smoking gradually. One cigarette a day to begin with, they beg of me, promising to increase the dose by degrees. Why, man, one cigarette a day is poison; it is worse than not smoking.' "'But that is not what I did.' "'The idea is the same,' he said. 'Like the others, you make all this moan about giving up completely a habit you should never have acquired. For my own part, I cannot even understand where the subtle delights of not smoking come in. Compared with health, they are surely immaterial.' "'Of course, I admit that.' "'Then, if you admit it, why pamper yourself?' "'I suppose because one is weak in matters of habit. You have many cases like mine?' "'I have such cases every week,' he told me; 'indeed, it was having so many cases of the kind that made me a specialist in the subject. When I began practice I had not the least notion how common the non-tobacco throat, as I call it, is.' "'But the disease has been known, has it not, for a long time?' "'Yes,' he said;' but the cause has only been discovered recently. I could explain the malady to you scientifically, as many medical men would prefer to do, but you are better to have it in plain English.' "'Certainly; but I should like to know whether the symptoms in other cases have been in every way similar to mine.' "'They have doubtless differed in degree, but not otherwise,' he answered. 'For instance, you say your sore throat is accompanied by depression of spirits.' "'Yes; indeed, the depression sometimes precedes the sore throat.' "'Exactly. I presume, too, that you feel most depressed in the evening--say, immediately after dinner?' "'That is certainly the time I experience the depression most.' "'The result,' he said, 'if I may venture on somewhat delicate matters, is that your depression of spirits infects your wife and family, even your servants?' "'That is quite true,' I answered. 'Our home has by no means been so happy as formerly. When a man is out of spirits, I suppose, he tends to be brusque and undemonstrative to his wife, and to be easily irritated by his children. Certainly that has been the case with me of late.' "'Yes,' he exclaimed, 'and all because you have not carried out my directions. Men ought to see that they have no right to indulge in not smoking, if only for the sake of their wives and families. A bachelor has more excuse, perhaps; but think of the example you set your children in not making an effort to shake this self-indulgence off. In short, smoke for the sake of your wife and family, if you won't smoke for the sake of your health.'" I think this is pretty nearly the whole of Pettigrew's story, but I may add that he left the house in depression of spirits, and then infected Jimmy and the others with the same ailment, so that they should all have hurried in a cab to the house of Dr. Southwick. "Honestly," Pettigrew said, "I don't think she believed a word I told her." "If she had only been a man," Marriot sighed, "we could have got round her." "How?" asked Pettigrew. "Why, of course," said Marriot, "we could have sent her a tin of the Arcadia." [Illustration] CHAPTER XXXII. MY LAST PIPE. [Illustration] The night of my last smoke drew near without any demonstration on my part or on that of my friends. I noticed that none of them was now comfortable if left alone with me, and I knew, I cannot tell how, that though they had too much delicacy to refer in my presence to my coming happiness, they often talked of it among themselves. They smoked hard and looked covertly at me, and had an idea that they were helping me. They also addressed me in a low voice, and took their seats noiselessly, as if some one were ill in the next room. "We have a notion," Scrymgeour said, with an effort, on my second night, "that you would rather we did not feast you to-morrow evening?" "Oh, I want nothing of that kind," I said. "So I fancied," Jimmy broke in. "Those things are rather a mockery, but of course if you thought it would help you in any way----" "Or if there is anything else we could do for you," interposed Gilray, "you have only to mention it." Though they irritated rather than soothed me, I was touched by their kindly intentions, for at one time I feared my friends would be sarcastic. The next night was my last, and I found that they had been looking forward to it with genuine pain. As will have been seen, their custom was to wander into my room one by one, but this time they came together. They had met in the boudoir, and came up the stair so quietly that I did not hear them. They all looked very subdued, and Marriot took the cane chair so softly that it did not creak. I noticed that after a furtive glance at me each of them looked at the centre-table, on which lay my brier, Romulus and Remus, three other pipes that all had their merits, though they never touched my heart until now, my clay tobacco-jar, and my old pouch. I had said good-by to these before my friends came in, and I could now speak with a comparatively firm voice. Marriot and Gilray and Scrymgeour signed to Jimmy, as if some plan of action had been arranged, and Jimmy said huskily, sitting upon the hearth-rug: "Pettigrew isn't coming. He was afraid he would break down." [Illustration] Then we began to smoke. It was as yet too early in the night for my last pipe, but soon I regretted that I had not arranged to spend this night alone. Jimmy was the only one of the Arcadians who had been at school with me, and he was full of reminiscences which he addressed to the others just as if I were not present. "He was the life of the old school," Jimmy said, referring to me, "and when I shut my eyes I can hear his merry laugh as if we were both in knickerbockers still." "What sort of character did he have among the fellows?" Gilray whispered. "The very best. He was the soul of honor, and we all anticipated a great future for him. Even the masters loved him; indeed, I question if he had an enemy." "I remember my first meeting with him at the university," said Marriot, "and that I took to him at once. He was speaking at the debating society that night, and his enthusiasm quite carried me away." "And how we shall miss him here," said Scrymgeour, "and in my house-boat! I think I had better sell the house-boat. Do you remember his favorite seat at the door of the saloon?" "Do you know," said Marriot, looking a little scared, "I thought I would be the first of our lot to go. Often I have kept him up late in this very room talking of my own troubles, and little guessing why he sometimes treated them a little testily." So they talked, meaning very well, and by and by it struck one o'clock. A cold shiver passed through me, and Marriot jumped from his chair. It had been agreed that I should begin my last pipe at one precisely. Whatever my feelings were up to this point I had kept them out of my face, but I suppose a change came over me now. I tried to lift my brier from the table, but my hand shook and the pipe tapped, tapped on the deal like an auctioneer's hammer. "Let me fill it," Jimmy said, and he took my old brier from me. He scraped it energetically so that it might hold as much as possible, and then he filled it. Not one of them, I am glad to remember, proposed a cigar for my last smoke, or thought it possible that I would say farewell to tobacco through the medium of any other pipe than my brier. I liked my brier best. I have said this already, but I must say it again. Jimmy handed the brier to Gilray, who did not surrender it until it reached my mouth. Then Scrymgeour made a spill, and Marriot lighted it. In another moment I was smoking my last pipe. The others glanced at one another, hesitated, and put their pipes into their pockets. There was little talking, for they all gazed at me as if something astounding might happen at any moment. The clock had stopped, but the ventilator was clicking. Although Jimmy and the others saw only me, I tried not to see only them. I conjured up the face of a lady, and she smiled encouragingly, and then I felt safer. But at times her face was lost in smoke, or suddenly it was Marriot's face, eager, doleful, wistful. At first I puffed vigorously and wastefully, then I became scientific and sent out rings of smoke so strong and numerous that half a dozen of them were in the air at a time. In past days I had often followed a ring over the table, across chairs, and nearly out at the window, but that was when I blew one by accident and was loath to let it go. Now I distributed them among my friends, who let them slip away into the looking-glass. I think I had almost forgotten what I was doing and where I was when an awful thing happened. My pipe went out! [Illustration] "There are remnants in it yet," Jimmy cried, with forced cheerfulness, while Gilray blew the ashes off my sleeve, Marriot slipped a cushion behind my back, and Scrymgeour made another spill. Again I smoked, but no longer recklessly. It is revealing no secret to say that a drowning man sees his whole past unfurl before him like a panorama. So little, however, was I, now on the eve of a great happiness, like a drowning man, that nothing whatever passed before me. I lost sight even of my friends, and though Jimmy was on his knees at my feet, his hand clasping mine, he disappeared as if his open mouth had swallowed the rest of his face. I had only one thought--that I was smoking my last pipe. Unconsciously I crossed my legs, and one of my slippers fell off; Jimmy, I think, slipped it on to my foot. Marriot stood over me, gazing into the bowl of my pipe, but I did not see him. Now I was puffing tremendously, but no smoke came. The room returned to me, I saw Jimmy clearly, I felt Marriot overhead, and I heard them all whispering. Still I puffed; I knew that my pipe was empty, but still I puffed. Gilray's fingers tried to draw my brier from my mouth, but I bit into it with my teeth, and still I puffed. When I came to I was alone. I had a dim consciousness of having been shaken by several hands, of a voice that I think was Scrymgeour's saying that he would often write to me--though my new home was to be within the four-mile radius--and of another voice that I think was Jimmy's, telling Marriot not to let me see him breaking down. But though I had ceased to puff, my brier was still in my mouth; and, indeed, I found it there when William John shook me into life next morning. [Illustration] My parting with William John was almost sadder than the scene of the previous night. I rang for him when I had tied up all my treasures in brown paper, and I told him to give the tobacco-jar to Jimmy, Romulus to Marriot, Remus to Gilray, and the pouch to Scrymgeour. William John bore up till I came to the pouch, when he fairly blubbered. I had to hurry into my bedroom, but I mean to do something yet for William John. Not even Scrymgeour knew so well as he what my pouch had been to me, and till I die I shall always regret that I did not give it to William John. I kept my brier. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXXIII. WHEN MY WIFE IS ASLEEP AND ALL THE HOUSE IS STILL. [Illustration] Perhaps the heading of this paper will deceive some readers into thinking that I smoke nowadays in camera. It is, I know, a common jest among smokers that such a promise as mine is seldom kept, and I allow that the Arcadians tempt me still. But never shall it be said of me with truth that I have broken my word. I smoke no more, and, indeed, though the scenes of my bachelorhood frequently rise before me in dreams, painted as Scrymgeour could not paint them, I am glad, when I wake up, that they are only dreams. Those selfish days are done, and I see that though they were happy days, the happiness was a mistake. As for the struggle that is supposed to take place between a man and tobacco, after he sees smoking in its true colors, I never experienced it. I have not even any craving for the Arcadia now, though it is a tobacco that should only be smoked by our greatest men. Were we to present a tin of it to our national heroes, instead of the freedom of the city, they would probably thank us more. Jimmy and the others are quite unworthy to smoke it; indeed, if I had my way they would give up smoking altogether. Nothing, perhaps, shows more completely how I have severed my bonds than this: that my wife is willing to let our friends smoke in the study, but I will not hear of it. There shall be no smoking in my house; and I have determined to speak to Jimmy about smoking out at our spare bedroom window. It is a mere contemptible pretence to say that none of the smoke comes back into the room. The curtains positively reek of it, and we must have them washed at once. I shall speak plainly to Jimmy because I want him to tell the others. They must understand clearly on what terms they are received in this house, and if they prefer making chimneys of themselves to listening to music, by all means let them stay at home. But when my wife is asleep and all the house is still, I listen to the man through the wall. At such times I have my brier in my mouth, but there is no harm in that, for it is empty. I did not like to give away my brier, knowing no one who understood it, and I always carry it about with me now to remind me of my dark past. When the man through the wall lights up I put my cold pipe in my mouth and we have a quiet hour together. [Illustration] I have never, to my knowledge, seen the man through the wall, for his door is round the corner, and, besides, I have no interest in him until half-past eleven P.M. We begin then. I know him chiefly by his pipes, and them I know by his taps on the wall as he knocks the ashes out of them. He does not smoke the Arcadia, for his temper is hasty, and he breaks the coals with his foot. Though I am compelled to say that I do not consider his character very lovable, he has his good points, and I like his attachment to his brier. He scrapes it, on the whole, a little roughly, but that is because he is so anxious to light up again, and I discovered long ago that he has signed an agreement with his wife to go to bed at half-past twelve. For some time I could not understand why he had a silver rim put on the bowl. I noticed the change in the tap at once, and the natural conclusion would have been that the bowl had cracked. But it never had the tap of a cracked bowl. I was reluctant to believe that the man through the wall was merely some vulgar fellow, and I felt that he could not be so, or else he would have smoked his meerschaum more. At last I understood. The bowl had worn away on one side, and the silver rim had been needed to keep the tobacco in. Undoubtedly this was the explanation, for even before the rim came I was a little puzzled by the taps of the brier. He never seemed to hit the wall with the whole mouth of the bowl, but of course the reason was that he could not. At the same time I do not exonerate him from blame. He is a clumsy smoker to burn his bowl at one side, and I am afraid he lets the stem slip round in his teeth. Of course, I see that the mouth-piece is loose, but a piece of blotting-paper would remedy that. His meerschaum is not such a good one as Jimmy's. Though Jimmy's boastfulness about his meerschaum was hard to bear, none of us ever denied the pipe's worth. The man through the wall has not a cherry-wood stem to his meerschaum, and consequently it is too light. A ring has been worn into the palm of his left hand, owing to his tapping the meerschaum there, and it is as marked as Jimmy's ring, for, though Jimmy tapped more strongly, the man through the wall has to tap oftener. What I chiefly dislike about the man through the wall is his treatment of his clay. A clay, I need scarcely say, has an entirely different tap from a meerschaum, but the man through the wall does not treat these two pipes as if they were on an equality. He ought to tap his clay on the palm of his hand, but he seldom does so, and I am strongly of opinion that when he does, it is only because he has forgotten that this is not the meerschaum. Were he to tap the clay on the walls or on the ribs of the fireplace he would smash it, so he taps it on a coal. About this there is something contemptible. I am not complaining because he has little affection for his clay. In face of all that has been said in honor of clays, and knowing that this statement will occasion an outcry against me, I admit that I never cared for clays myself. A rank tobacco is less rank through a church-warden, but to smoke the Arcadia through a clay is to incur my contempt, and even my resentment. But to disbelieve in clays is one thing and to treat them badly is another. If the man through the wall has decided, after reflection and experiment, that his clay is a mistake, I say let him smoke it no more; but so long as he does smoke it I would have it receive consideration from him. I very much question whether, if he reads his heart, he could learn from it that he loves his meerschaum more than his clay, yet because the meerschaum cost more he taps it on his palm. This is a serious charge to bring against any man, but I do not make it lightly. The man through the wall smokes each of these three pipes nightly, beginning with the brier. Thus he does not like a hot pipe. Some will hold that he ought to finish with the brier, as it is his favorite, but I am not of that opinion. Undoubtedly, I think, the first pipe is the sweetest; indeed, I feel bound to make a statement here. I have an uneasy feeling that I never did justice to meerschaums, and for this reason: I only smoked them after my brier was hot, so that I never gave them a fair chance. If I had begun the day with a meerschaum, might it not have shown itself in a new light? That is a point I shall never be able to decide now, but I often think of it, and I leave the verdict to others. [Illustration] Even though I did not know that the man through the wall must retire at half-past twelve, his taps at that hour would announce it. He then gives each of his pipes a final tap, not briskly as before, but slowly, as if he was thinking between each tap. I have sometimes decided to send him a tin of the only tobacco to smoke, but on the whole I could not undertake the responsibility of giving a man whom I have only studied for a few months such a testimonial. Therefore when his last tap says good-night to me, I take my cold brier out of my mouth, tap it on the mantelpiece, smile sadly, and go to bed. [Illustration] 
36879	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) NICOTIANA; OR THE SMOKER'S AND SNUFF-TAKER'S COMPANION; CONTAINING THE HISTORY OF TOBACCO; CULTURE--MEDICAL QUALITIES AND THE LAWS RELATIVE TO ITS IMPORTATION AND MANUFACTURE: WITH AN Essay in its Defence. THE WHOLE ELEGANTLY EMBELLISHED AND INTERSPERSED WITH ORIGINAL POETRY AND ANECDOTES, BEING INTENDED AS AN AMUSING AND INSTRUCTIVE VOLUME FOR ALL GENUINE LOVERS OF THE HERB, BY HENRY JAMES MELLER, ESQ. "I do assert and will affirm it before any prince in Europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that ever the earth tendered to the use of man." _Captain Bobadil.--Every Man in his Humour._ LONDON: EFFINGHAM WILSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE. 1832. TO H. R. H. THE DUKE OF SUSSEX, This little Work, AS A TRIFLING TOKEN OF VENERATION FOR HIS CHARACTER AND ESTEEM FOR HIS TASTE, IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. PREFACE. Many an excellent cause has been lost through the want of sound arguments, founded on a knowledge of the case, to support and place it in its proper light. None, perhaps, more than _smoking_ and _snuff-taking_, the propriety of which, in the upper orders of life, have been and are, whether as regards their social or medicinal qualities, so frequently called in question by their enemies. These, the author is sorry to say, by the use of a few specious arguments, that chiefly pass current in refined society--the ladies in particular--have, strongly aided by prejudice, often made the defence succumb to the attack--an unpardonable weakness on the part of a _consumer_ of the herb, who is naturally enough expected to know the entire history of the favorite of his adoption. Unacquainted with the excellence of his subject, its importance and consequence in ancient and modern annals--its high worshippers and eulogists, medical, and non-medical, with its many endearing and social virtues acknowledged over the far greater part of the world; he, the Author asserts, unacquainted with the above _data_ and references, opposes but a feeble barrier to the sweeping and general assertions of his adversary. In the above glorious cause (i. e. Anti-Smokers and Snuff-Takers v. Lovers of the Herb) the Author himself holds a brief in the defence as counsel, and flattering himself he has made himself fully master of the case, he begs to impart it as a proper, if not an absolutely requisite accompaniment to all lovers of the 'soothing leaf.' The prejudices against smoking are numerous. Smoking that is called _unsocial_, the author affirms to be the common source of harmony and comfort,--the badge of good fellowship in almost every state, kingdom, and empire. Aye, from the English settlers in the wildernesses of America, where the _Calumet_ or Pipe of Peace is smoked by the natives, to the turbaned infidel of the East--from the burning zone of Africa to the icy regions of the North. In fact, in almost every clime and condition of society it is known as a common sign, or freemasonry of friendly feeling and social intercourse. In the East, the first act of hospitality is proffering the pipe with its invariable accompaniment coffee, which is more or less observed under various modifications over nearly the rest of the habitable world. Smoking that is termed _low_ and _vulgar_ was, and is, an occasional recreation with most of the crowned heads of Europe, among which may be named his late Majesty, and their Royal Highnesses the Dukes of Sussex and Cumberland--Ferdinand of Spain, and the Emperor Nicholas of Germany--besides very many of the nobility of either empires and kingdoms. Smoking that is termed _idle_, is singularly popular with mechanics, the most industrious classes of England. Smoking that is said to be _dirty_ and _filthy_, is in the greatest esteem, among the most moral and cleanly sect in Christianity--the Society of Friends or Quakers. Smoking that is affirmed to be _revolting_ and _disgusting_, is indulged in by the most rigidly kept women in the world--those of Turkey, who elevated in the dignity of the Haram, are taught to consider a whiff of their lord's _chibouque_ a distinction. Then the ladies of both Old and New Spain, who twining in the mazes of the giddy waltz, take the _cigarros_ from their own pretty lips to transfer to those of their favoured partners. If indeed, royalty be wanted in the female line, since the good old times of Elizabeth, who can be so lamentably ignorant in the annals of smoking, as not to know, that the late _Tumehemalee_, Queen Consort of _Tirahee_, king of the Sandwich Islands, was dotingly fond of a pipe--sensible woman and above all petty prejudices as she was, at our own honoured court. Now, in regard to snuff, that like smoking is so much abused, coming under the bans of the ignorant and prejudiced, _beastly_ is the word commonly given to its application, though used to the greatest excess in the famed land of _politesse_--France. The most polished and fascinating address is ever followed by the gracefully proffered snuff-box. What a vast deal does it not speak at once in a man's favor, begetting instantly a friendly sympathy in the head that gradually extends to the heart. What does not MOLIERE, their favorite author say, in favor of the herb? for the benefit of casuists we quote the sublime panegyric, which alone ought to confirm the bold lovers of the pipe and box, and 'inspire and fire' the diffident and wavering. "Quoi que puisse dire Aristote, et toute la philosophie, il n'est rien d'égal au tabac; c'est la passion des honnêtes gens, et qui vit sans tabac, n'est pas digne de vivre. Non seulement il réjouit et purge les cerveaux humains, mais encore il instruit les ames à la vertu et l'on apprend avec lui à devenir honnête homme. Ne voyez-vous pas bien, dès qu'on en prend, de quelle manière obligeante on en use avec tout le monde, et comme on est ravi d'en donner à droit et à gauche, par tout où l'on se trouve? On n'attend pas même que l'on en demande, et l'on court au devant du souhait des gens; tant il est vrai que le tabac inspire des sentimens d'honneur et de vertu à tous ceux qui en prennent." The pipe and the box are twin-brothers; they are the agents of friendship, conviviality, and mirth; they succour the distressed, and heal the afflicted; impartial and generous, they administer to all that sue for comfort, and the spirits of peace advance at their call; they live in charity with all men, unite them, and re-unite them, and they sympathise all hearts, entwining them in a cheerful and lasting community of soul and sentiment. The pipe and the box give a vigour to the mind, and a language to its ideas. They give harmony a tone, and discord a silence. They inspire the bold, and encourage the diffident. Yes! through their agency alone, all these benefits are received and experienced. In short, they express in one breath, superlative happiness. A few illustrations will suffice: A man in public company wishing to give utterance to some particular opinion or sentiment, invariably finds the pipe or the pinch the best prompter. A man wishing to be silent, in meditation finds the pipe his excuser. A man in anger with himself, his family, or the public, the pipe or the pinch will generally restore to kindness. A man desirous of meeting a friend, need but give him a "pinch," and the heart is at once opened to his reception. A man in misfortune, either in sickness or in circumstances, will learn philosophy from the pipe, and count upon the latter, at least, as his own: in this case, from both tobacco and snuff, he borrows an independent vigour, and a cheerfulness that shines even in the sadness of his heart. The impregnative spirit of tobacco will wind its way to the most secret recesses of the brain, and impart to the imagination a soft and gentle glow of heat, equally remote from the dullness of fervor, and the madness of intoxication; for to these two extremes, without the moderative medium of the pipe, an author's fancy will alternately expand itself. To the man of letters, therefore, the pipe is a sovereign remedy. Amongst the incidental benefits of the pipe and box, may also be noticed their great advantages in a converzatione; they smooth the arrogance of an apostrophe, and soften the virulence of a negative, give strength to an ejaculation, and confidence to a whisper. In short, they extract the sting, and purify the spirit, which are too frequently inhering concomitants, in the common associations of life. In conclusion, fully impressed with the sovereign consequence of his subject, the Author taketh his leave of the reader with the assurance, if his labours meet their due object, _viz._ imparting of the entire History of the much-aspersed, yet idolized herb, to its votaries, it will give him infinite pleasure. Should he not be so fortunate in upholding by that means,-- ----the grand cause, I smokes--I snuffs--I chaws,-- Philosophy still offers him consolation for the degeneracy of the times, in a pinch of _Lundyfoot_, or the fumes of his Merschaum. _Newington, Oct. 1831._ CONTENTS. PAGE INVOCATION TO TOBACCO 1 The History of the Importation of the Tobacco Plant into Europe, and the Origin of Smoking in England 3 On Snuff and the Origin of the Lundyfoot 18 SELECT POETRY: Tobacco 27 Snuff 28 Thou art a Charm for Winter 30 All Nations Honour Thee 31 Walton and Cotton 34 On a Pipe of Tobacco 36 My Last Cigar 37 A Review of the Laws and Regulations concerning Tobacco 38 The Importance of Smoking and Snuff-taking, exemplified in a Grave Dissertation, dedicated to the Youth of the Rising Generation 48 The Medical Qualities of Tobacco 81 Botanical History and Culture of the Tobacco Plant 91 ORIGINAL POETRY. New Words to an Old Tune 102 Ode on Tobacco 104 Stanzas to a Lady 105 The Last Quid 106 Anecdotes 108 Divans 117 Mems. for Smokers 123 INVOCATION TO TOBACCO. Weed of the strange pow'r, Weed of the earth, Killer of dullness-- Parent of mirth; Come in the sad hour, Come in the gay, Appear in the night, Or in the day: Still thou art welcome As June's blooming rose, Joy of the palate, Delight of the nose. Weed of the green field, Weed of the wild, Foster'd in freedom,-- America's child; Come in Virginia, Come in Havannah, Friend of the universe, Sweeter than manna: Still thou art welcome, Rich, fragrant, and ripe. Pride of the tube-case, Delight of the pipe. Weed of the savage, Weed of each pole, Comforting,--soothing,-- Philosophy's soul; Come in the snuff-box, Come in cigar, In Strasburg and King's, Come from afar: Still thou art welcome, The purest, the best, Joy of earth's millions, For ever carest! NICOTIANA. THE HISTORY OF THE IMPORTATION OF THE TOBACCO PLANT INTO EUROPE, AND THE ORIGIN OF SMOKING IN ENGLAND. The earth, perhaps, has never offered to the use of man a herb, whose history and adoption offer so varied a subject for thought and the mind's speculation, as tobacco. In whatever light we view it, there is something to interest the botanist, the physician, the philosopher, and even the historian, while, from the singularity of its discovery in a corner of the world where it had remained so long concealed, it would almost seem intended by Providence, to answer some especial purpose in the creation. Few things ever created a greater sensation than it did, on its first introduction into Europe. It was adopted with an avidity, so far from decreasing with time, that the experience of nearly three centuries has but rendered it universal. That the habits of snuffing, and smoking, are not beneficial to the human constitution, has been asserted as a fact by many _savans_, and more powerfully defended by others. Probably, after all, the most singular thing in favour of these habits is, that the practice of them, which should perfect our knowledge, advocates so strongly their use as agreeable stimulants, promoting cheerfulness, and mild and gentle in their operation when not adopted to too great an extent. This will be found the belief among the most enlightened, as well as the millions who echo its praises, from every clime and corner of the habitable globe. The precise introduction of the tobacco plant into Europe, from the varied and contradictory accounts that exist concerning it, is involved in some obscurity. That it was unknown to the Europeans, till the discovery of South America by that indefatigable voyager Columbus, is certain; although Don Ulloa,[1] a Spaniard, and a writer of celebrity in the last century, would fain have shown that the plant was indigenous to several parts of Asia; as China, Persia, Turkey, and Arabia. He asserts, with some ingenuity we grant, that the plant was known and used in smoking in those countries, long previous to the discovery of the New World. But, as the Old Testament and the Koran, books that treated of the most trifling Eastern customs, make not the slightest mention of it, and more especially as no travellers have ever recorded its existence previous to the discovery of America, we cannot but dismiss the supposition, for want of data, as idle in the extreme. Although we cannot, with the powers of observation Columbus is said to have possessed, but imagine the plant must have been known to him, particularly as it was so popular among the natives, yet no mention is made of that fact or of its introduction into Spain by him. On the contrary, one account furnished us, attributes it to Hernandez de Toledo, and another with a greater show of probability to Fernando Cortes. This latter adventurer, after the death of his great and ill-fated predecessor, succeeded to the command of a flotilla to prosecute those researches in the New World, as it was then called, that promised such an influx of wealth to the nation. It was in the year 1519 that Cortes, flushed with the sanguine expectations of an ambitious people, set out to take possession, in the name of the Spanish sovereignty, of a country whose treasures were deemed boundless. Coasting along for several days, he came to a part of the shore of a very rich and luxuriant description, which induced him to come to anchor, and land; the natives asserting that it abounded in gold and silver mines. This place was a province of _Yucatan_ in the Mexican Gulf, called _Tobaco_, the place from whence tobacco is supposed to have derived its present name. There it was that the plant was discovered, in a very thriving and flourishing state. Among the natives who held it in the greatest possible esteem and reverence, from the almost magical virtues they attached to it, it was called _petun_, and by those in the adjoining islands _yoli_. So singular a production of the country could not but draw the attention of the Spanish commander to it. The consequence was, that a specimen of it was shipped home with other curiosities of the country, with a long detail of its supposed astonishing virtues, in pharmacy. In the latter end of the year the plants arrived at their destination, and this may fairly be deemed to have been their first entry into the civilized portion of the world. A dreadful disease, first brought from America by the last return of Columbus, raged about this period with a fearful and unchecked virulency in Spain, committing dreadful devastations on the human frame, and finally ending in the most horrible death imagination could picture. This circumstance served to procure it a most sanguine welcome; for the sailors composing the fleet, having learnt it from the natives, had disseminated the belief, that it was the only known antidote against its ravages,--that it in fact answered the purposes of mercury in the present day, a belief welcomed with enthusiasm, and ending in despair. No sooner, however, was its inefficacy perceived, than it sunk in the estimation of its worshippers, as low as it previously had risen. Indeed, into such obscurity did it fall after the hopes it had vainly excited, that nearly forty years elapsed, ere it obtained any notice worth commemorating. At about the end of that period, however, we find that it had regained the ground it had previously lost, on a surer and better footing, as a soothing and gentle stimulant. From Spain, the plant was carried into Portugal; and from thence, gradually exported to the different kingdoms throughout Europe. Shortly after this, it was sent to the East, where it soon came into notice, as a narcotic, and consequently found a ready market. Peculiar facilities at this time too presented themselves to the Spaniards, above every other nation; for Vasco de Gama, another of its adventurers, had discovered and explored a great portion of the countries lying beyond the Cape of Good Hope. Among other articles, exchanged in the way of commerce with the natives, was tobacco: and this, despite of the reasoning of Don Ulloa mentioned some time back, was the first channel through which Hindostan, Arabia, and China, received the plants, now so common throughout the whole of the Eastern Empire. This occurred about the year 1560, shortly after it had been carried into France and Italy. While the nations of the Peninsula were thus distinguishing themselves, and in the meridian of their glory, extending their discoveries, conquests, and trade to the furthermost parts of that world which they had opened to the eyes of astonished Europe, England, for a time, was incapacitated from pursuing a similar course by intestine broils and factions at home. And even when Elizabeth ascended the throne, her naturally enterprising and ambitious spirit was almost solely confined to arranging domestic discords, and settling foreign quarrels. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, a plain blunt soldier, instigated by feelings of emulation and national enterprise, was the first to direct the attention of the maiden queen towards the benefits that would naturally result from planting a British colony in America. At his request a patent was granted, empowering him to plant and colonize some of the southern districts. He accordingly fitted out a squadron at his own expense, and proceeded on his voyage, which, from different circumstances that occurred, miscarried. A similar fate attended two subsequent attempts, when Sir Humphrey's half-brother, the after-celebrated Sir Walter Ralegh or Raleigh, as it is now spelt, returned home from the wars in the Netherlands. Inspired by a restless ambition that ever distinguished this great man, he succeeded in persuading the knight to undertake a fourth voyage, offering to accompany him himself. Combining courage, enterprise, and perseverance, with a degree of knowledge little known at the period we treat of, few men were better qualified for the successful execution of such an enterprise than Raleigh. The sequel proved the truth of this remark, Newfoundland was discovered and taken; though the original gallant projector, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, we have recorded, was drowned on his passage home. In the year 1584, Sir Walter Raleigh applied for the renewal of the letters patent in his own name, which the queen immediately granted him. Having fitted out a squadron, he put to sea, and after a somewhat tedious voyage, discovered Wingandacoa, which he afterwards called _Virginia_, in honor of Elizabeth. On his return, he was received with peculiar favour by the queen, who testified her satisfaction by making him a knight, while she lent a willing ear towards the colonizing schemes Sir Walter opened to her aspiring view. In pursuance of some of these, Sir Richard Grenville, another relation of Sir Walter Raleigh's, was sent out with Captain Lane, whom he left in command of one hundred men in one of the southern districts of the country, appointing him at the same time to act as governor; and promising to return to him before the next spring with stores and fresh provisions. Circumstances, that have never yet been properly explained to this day, prevented Sir Richard from keeping his word, in consequence of which, the colony was reduced to great distress. Shortly afterwards, taking the advantage of Sir Francis Drake's return from the Spanish wars, they embarked on board his ships for England, where they arrived in the month of July, A. D. 1686, with their commander, Lane. Among the specimens of the productions and peculiarities of the country, they brought with them that which forms our subject, the tobacco plant. This, by some, is said to have been its first importation into Great Britain; Lobel, however, asserts, it was cultivated here in 1570, a statement plausible enough, we admit, considering the previous length of time the plant had been known in Spain and Portugal, but yet irreconcileable with the data our own historical research gives us. That it might indeed have been introduced from France previous to its importation from Virginia, and cultivated in trifling quantities, is highly probable, inasmuch as the French date its first appearance among them in 1560, just ten years previous to Lobel's affirmation. _Linnæus_ likewise mentions that the plant became known in Europe the same year the French date from, and _Humboldt_ so far corroborates him, as to state that seeds of it were received from Yucatan in 1559. That it was known in France, some years previous to its being carried into England, from the above accounts handed down to us, we cannot doubt. The French history of the importation of the plant into their country, attributes it to _Jean Nicot_ of Nismes, who was their ambassador at the court of Lisbon in the reign of Francis II. Some of the seed, we are informed, was given him by a Dutchman, who had brought it with him from Florida. This, we imagine, must have been shortly after it had begun to regain notice in Spain. Impressed with the current account of its properties as a medicine and luxurious stimulant, he sent a portion of it home, where it arrived, and under high court patronage soon became popular. In England--and we shall now proceed to note our own accounts of the subject,--the first importer is very commonly thought to have been Sir Walter Raleigh, who is said to have brought it from Virginia in 1586--a period when the tobacco plant was known throughout nearly the whole of Europe, while whole fields of it were cultivated for commerce in Spain and Portugal. If it is to be attributed to an Englishman, few possess a better claim to the honor than Sir Francis Drake, as he had made several voyages to the _New_ World in 1570-2-7, ere Raleigh had undertaken his first. This idea is exactly in accordance, too, with the dates furnished us by _Lobel_, _Linnæus_ and _Humboldt_. Independent of this strong circumstantial evidence, Bomare[2] and Camden[3] both attribute its first appearance to him,--authority not to be disputed for a moment. That Sir Walter was the first distinguished individual that set the fashion of smoking, we have recorded, although this, we are again told, was taught him by the notorious Ralph Lane, whose adventure, we have a page or too back slightly touched upon. Lane had himself learnt the habit, from the Virginians, and having brought several of their pipes home with him, communicated it to Raleigh, who indulged in it greatly, as a pleasant pastime. It was during one of his pleasing reveries under the soothing influence of the pipe, that the well-known anecdote is said to have occurred of a lacquey drenching him with water, supposing from the smoke he saw issuing from his nose and mouth that he was internally on fire. To such a degree, indeed, did he adopt and set the fashion of smoking, that he was frequently in the habit of giving entertainments to his friends, in which the fare consisted of pipes of tobacco, and ale seasoned with nutmegs--a somewhat curious origin of smoking-parties, or divans, in England. The result was, the example of a man so justly celebrated and popular was soon imitated by the court, and in the course of years gradually became common among the lower orders of people. Elizabeth, notwithstanding her strong and powerful mind, possessed the sex's natural vanity and love of novelty to a great degree, and would seem to have very warmly patronized the custom; some writers of the period have gone as far as to affirm, in her own person. We are further borne out in this statement by the authority of the _Biographia Britannica_, that the _ladies_ of the court indulged in smoking the fragrant herb, as well as the noblemen and gentle men. That the queen therefore set a personal example, is by no means so strange. What a striking contrast does this afford, in regard to the taste expressed by the sex in the present day towards tobacco! In reference to the nomenclature of the tobacco plant, like that of most things handed down to posterity, it admits of many versions. As we have previously observed in America, it was termed among the natives, _petun_ and _yoli_, besides other barbarous names, probably each appellation peculiar to a different tribe. On the appearance of the plant in England, it received the name it is still recognized by, namely, Tobacco. This word, by some writers, is supposed to have had its derivation from _Tobago_ in the West Indies, while others assert it is derived from _Tobaco_, a different place altogether; which latter, from its closer approximation to the word _tobacco_, we cannot but imagine correct. In botany it is more particularly known under the scientific appellation of _Herba Nicotiana_, so named on its introduction into France, in compliment to her ambassador, _Jean Nicot of Nismes_, from whom it was received. It was also well known under the imposing titles of _Herba Reginæ Catharinæ Medicæ_, and _Herba Reginæ_: the first given in honor of the queen, and the latter of a grand prior of the house of Lorraine, both of whom were the first receivers of the plant, and fostered it on account of the many virtues it was supposed to be possessed of in pharmacy. In different countries its names were various. In Italy at that time it was called _St. Crucis_, taken from _St. Croix_, an apostolic legate who brought it into the country, somewhere in the middle of the 16th century. The Dutch call it TABOC, or _Taboco_, indifferently. Some of the German writers describe it under the name of the _Holy_ or the _Indian Healing Herb--Heilig wundkraut_, or _Indianisch wundkraut_. In most other countries _Tobac_ or _Tabac_ prevails. Notwithstanding the extreme popularity that attended the introduction of the plant generally throughout Europe, there were not wanting those sovereigns who testified an antipathy at first to the tobacco plant, little short of that, for which king James was afterwards remarkable--of whom we shall have occasion to speak anon. Amurath the Fourth forbade its introduction in any form whatever within his dominions under very severe penalties. The Czar of Muscovy and the king of Persia issued edicts of a similar nature, while Pope Urban the Eighth made a bull to excommunicate all those who took tobacco into churches. ON SNUFF AND THE ORIGIN OF THE LUNDY FOOT. Jove once resolv'd, the females to degrade, To propagate their sex without their aid; His brain conceiv'd, and soon the pangs and throes He felt nor car'd the unnatural birth disclose: At last when tried no remedy could do, The god took _snuff_ and out the goddess flew. JOE MILLER. Snuff was manufactured and consumed in great quantities in France, long previous to its adoption in England. For the account of its being introduced to Great Britain we are indebted to the once celebrated[4] Charles Lillie. Before the year 1702, when we sent out a fleet of ships under the command of Sir George Rook, with land forces commanded by the duke of Ormond, in order to make a descent on Cadiz, _snuff-taking_ was very rare, and indeed very little known in England; it being chiefly a luxurious habit among foreigners residing here, and a few English gentry, who had travelled abroad. Among these, the mode of taking snuff was with pipes the size of quills out of small spring boxes. These pipes let out a very small quantity of snuff, upon the back of the hand, and this was snuffed up the nostrils with the intention of producing the sensation of sneezing, which we need not say forms now no part of the design, or rather fashion of snuff-taking. But to return to our Cadiz expedition by sea. When the fleet arrived near Cadiz, our land forces were disembarked at a place called Port St. Mary, where after some fruitless attempts, it was resolved to embark the troops, and set sail for England. But previous to this, the port and several adjacent places were plundered. There, besides some very rich merchandize, plate, jewels, pictures, and a great quantity of cochineal, several thousand barrels and casks of fine snuffs were taken, which had been manufactured in different parts of Spain. Each of these contained four tin canisters of snuff of the best growth, and of the finest manufacture. With this plunder on board (which fell chiefly to the share of the land officers), the fleet was returning to England; but on the way, it was resolved to pay a visit to Vigo, a considerable port in Spain, where the admiral had advice that a number of galleons from the Havannah richly laden had put in: here, our fleet got in and destroyed the greater part of the Spanish shipping, and the plunder was exceedingly rich and valuable. It now came to the turn of the sea-officers and sailors to be snuff proprietors and merchants; for at Vigo they again became possessed of prodigious quantities of gross snuff from the Havannah in bales, bags, and scrows,[5] which were designed for sale in different parts of Spain. Thus, though snuff was very little known, as we have here remarked at that period, the quantities taken in this expedition, which were estimated at fifty tons weight, plainly show that in the other countries of Europe, snuff was held in great estimation, and that the taking of it was not at all unfashionable. The fleet having returned to England, and most of the ships been put out of commission, the officers and sailors brought their snuff--called by way of victorious distinction--"Vigo snuffs," to a very quick and cheap market: waggon loads being sold at Portsmouth, Plymouth, and Chatham, for not more than 4_d._ per lb. The purchasers were chiefly Spanish Jews, who in the present case, bought up almost the whole quantity at considerable advantage. The land officers who were possessed of the finer kinds of snuff, taken at Port St. Mary, had sold considerable portions at the ports where they had touched on their homeward voyage. Others, however, we are told, better understood the nature of the commodity which had fallen to their share, and kept it for several years; selling it off by degrees for very high prices. From the above-mentioned quantities of different snuffs, thus distributed throughout the kingdom, novelty being quickly caught in England, arose the custom and fashion of snuff-taking; and growing upon the nation by degrees, they are now as common here, as almost in any other part of Europe; France alone excepted. After giving us a somewhat elaborate account of the manufactures of different Spanish, Havannah and Brazilian snuffs, _Lillie_ proceeds to describe a snuff he calls '_Inferior Lisbon_,' that singularly enough, closely approximates to the celebrated Lundy Foot. "This kind," he says "from the great heat used in drying it, has an agreeable smell, like high-dried malt, and is often called snuff of the burnt flavour; but the smell soon goes off on exposure to the air, for which reason, it is advisable to put no more into the snuff-box than shall be used whilst fresh." Though we cannot but be aware, from the preceding account, that a snuff exactly resembling in all its attributes our own famous high-dried, called Lundyfoot, so named from the nominal inventor, existed; yet the history of its discovery is of too facetious a description to be omitted here. Lundy Foot, the celebrated snuff manufacturer, some six-and-twenty years ago, had his premises at Essex-bridge in Dublin, where he made the common scented snuffs then in vogue. In preparing the snuffs, it was usual to dry them by a kiln at night, which kiln was always left in strict charge of a man appointed to regulate the heat, and see the snuffs were not spoilt. The man usually employed in this business, Larey by name, a tight boy of Cork, chanced to get drunk over the 'cratur', (i. e. a little whiskey) that he had gotten to comfort him, and quite regardless of his watch, fell fast asleep, leaving the snuff drying away. Going his usual round in the morning, Lundy Foot found the kiln still burning, and its guardian lying snoring with the fatal bottle, now empty, in his right hand. Imagining the snuff quite spoilt, and giving way to his rage, he instantly began belabouring the shoulders of the sleeper with the stick he carried. "Och, be quiet wid ye, what the devil's the matter, master, that ye be playing that game," shouted the astounded Larey, as he sprung up and capered about under the influence of the other's walking cane. "You infernal scoundrel, I'll teach you to get drunk, fall asleep, and suffer my property to get spoilt," uttered the enraged manufacturer, as each word was accompanied by a blow across the dancing Mr. Larey's shoulders. "Stop! stop! wid ye, now; sure you wouldn't be afther spaking to ye'r ould sarvant that way,--the snuff's only a little dryer, or so, may be," exclaimed 'the boy,' trying to soften matters. "You big blackguard you, didn't you get drunk and fall asleep?" interrogated his master, as he suspended his arm for a moment. "Och by all the saints, that's a good'un now, where can be the harum of slaaping wid a drop or so; besides--but hould that shilelah--hear a man spake raison." Just as Lundy Foot's wrath had in some degree subsided in this serio-comic scene, and he had given the negligent watcher his nominal discharge, who should come in but a couple of merchants. They instantly gave him a large order for the snuffs they were usually in the habit of purchasing, and requested to have it ready for shipping by the next day. Not having near so large a quantity at the time by him, in consequence of what had happened, he related the occurrence to them, at the same time, by way of illustration, pointing out the trembling Larey, occupied in rubbing his arms and back, and making all kinds of contortions. Actuated by curiosity, the visitors requested to look at the snuff, although Lundy Foot told them, from the time it had been drying, it must be burnt to a chip. Having taken out the tins, they were observed to emit a burnt flavour, anything but disagreeable, and on one of the gentlemen taking a pinch up and putting it to his nose, he pronounced it the best snuff he had ever tasted. Upon this, the others made a similar trial, and all agreed that chance had brought it to a degree of perfection before unknown. Reserving about a third, Lundy Foot sold the rest to his visitors. The only thing that remained now, was to give it a name: for this purpose, in a facetious mood, arising from the sudden turn affairs had taken, the master called his man to him who was lingering near, "Come here, you Irish blackguard, and tell these gentlemen what you call this snuff, of your own making." Larey, who did not want acuteness, and perceived the aspect of things, affected no trifling degree of sulky indignation, as he replied. "And is it a name ye'r in want of, Sir? fait I should have thought it was the last thing you couldn't give; without indeed, you've given all your stock to me already. You may even call it 'Irish blackguard,' stidd of one Michael Larey." 'Upon this hint he spake,' and as many a true word is spoken in jest, so was it christened on the spot. The snuff was sent to England immediately, and to different places abroad, where it soon became a favorite to so great a degree, that the proprietor took out a patent and rapidly accumulated a handsome fortune. Such are the particulars connected with the discovery of the far-famed Lundy Foot or Irish Blackguard--for which we are indebted to a member of the Irish bar, who was a resident in Dublin at the time. With regard to the numerous varieties of snuffs that exist, we shall say nothing at present, merely observing that the principal kinds of their manufacture are under three classes. The first is the granulated, the second an impalpable powder, and the third the bran, or coarse part, remaining after sifting the second part. SELECT POETRY. TOBACCO. [_From a Book Published in 1618, called Texnotamia, or the Marriage of the Arts._] Tobacco's a musician--and in a pipe delighteth It descends in a close, thro' the organs of the nose, With a relish that inviteth. This makes me sing so-ho!--so-ho! boys-- Ho! boys, sound I loudly-- Earth ne'er did breed such a jovial weed, Whereof to boast so proudly. Tobacco is a lawyer--his pipes do love long cases, When our brains it enters, our feet do make indentures, While we scale with stamping paces. This makes me sing, &c. Tobacco's a physician--good, both for sound and sickly, 'Tis a hot perfume that expels cold rheume, And makes it flow down quickly. This makes me sing, &c. Tobacco's a traveller, come from the Indies hither,-- It passed sea and land, ere it came to my hand, And scaped the wind and weather. This makes me sing, &c. Tobacco is a critticke, that still old paper turneth-- Whose labour and care is as smoke in the aire, That ascends from a ray when it burneth. This makes me sing, &c. Tobacco is an _ignis fatuus_--a fat and fyrie vapour, That leads men about till the fire be out, Consuming like a taper. This makes me sing, &c. Tobacco is a whyffler, and cries huff, snuff, with furie; His pipes, his club, once linke--he's the wiser that does drinke,-- Thus armed I fear not a furie. This makes me sing so-ho!--so-ho!--boys-- Ho! boys sound I loudly; Earth ne'er did breed such a jovial weed, Whereof to boast so proudly. SNUFF. --A delicate pinch! oh how it tingles up The titillated nose, and fills the eyes And breast, till, in one comfortable sneeze The full collected pleasure bursts at last! Most rare Columbus! thou shalt be, for this, The only Christopher in my kalendar. Why but for thee the uses of the nose Were half unknown, and its capacity Of joy. The summer gale, that, from the heath, At midnoon glittering with the golden furze, Bears its balsamic odours, but provokes, Not satisfies the sense, and all the flowers, That with their unsubstantial fragrance, tempt And disappoint, bloom for so short a space, That half the year the nostrils would keep Lent, But that the kind tobacconist admits No winter in his work; when nature sleeps, His wheels roll on, and still administer A plenitude of joy, a tangible smell. What is Peru, and those Brazilian mines, To thee, Virginia! miserable realms; They furnish gold for knaves, and gems for fools; But thine are _common_ comforts! to omit Pipe-panegyric and tobacco-praise, Think what a general joy the snuff-box gives Europe, and far above Pizarro's name Write Raleigh in thy records of renown! Him let the school-boy bless if he behold His mother's box produced, for when he sees The thumb and finger of authority Stuffed up the nostrils, when hot head and wig Shake all; when on the waistcoat black, the dust Or drop falls brown, soon shall the brow severe Relax, and from vituperative lips, Words that of birch remind not, sounds of praise And jokes that _must_ be laughed at must proceed. _Anthology_, Vol. II. p. 115. THOU ART A CHARM FOR WINTER. Nor here to pause--I own thy potent power, When chilling blasts assail our frigid clime, While flies the hail or rudely beats the shower, Or sad impatience chides the wings of time. Come, then, my pipe, and let thy savoury cloud, Now wisdom seldom shews her rev'rend mien, Spread round my head a bland and shelt'ring shroud, When riot mingles mischief with the scene. Shield me at evening from the selfish fool, The wretch who never felt for human woes, And while my conduct's framed by virtue's rule, Let only peace and honour interpose. Shield me by day from hatred's threat'ning frowns, Still let thine aromatic curtains spread, When bold presumption mounts to put me down, And hurls his maledictions round my head. Do this, my pipe, and till my sand's run out, I'll sing thy praise among the sons of wealth, Blest weed that bids the glutton lose his gout, And gains respect among the drugs of health. No shrew shall harm thee, no mundungus foul Shall stain thy lining, as the ermine white; My choicest friends shall revel o'er thy bowl, And charm away the terrors of the night. From ample hoards I'll bring the fragrant spoils, The richest herb from Kerebequa's shores, That grateful weed, that props the British Isles, And Sussex,[6] England's Royal Duke adores. _The Social Pipe._ ALL NATIONS HONOR THEE. 'Tis not for me to sing thy praise alone, Where'er the merchant spreads his wind-bleach'd sails; Wherever social intercourse is known, There too thy credit, still the theme prevails. The bearded Turk, majestically grand, In high divan upholds the jointed reeds; And clearer reasons on the case in hand, Till opposition to his lore concedes. Thy potent charms delight the nabob's taste, Fixt on his elephant (half reasoning beast); He twines the gaudy hookah round his waist, And puffs thy incense to the breezy east. The grave Bavarian, midst his half year's frost, Delights to keep thy ruby fins awake; And as in traffic's maze his fancy's tost, Light skims the icy surface of the lake. The Indian Sachem at his wigwam-gate, By chiefs surrounded when the warfare ends, Seated in all the pomp of savage state, Circles the calumet[7] to cheer his friends. The Frenchman loves thee in another way, He grinds thy leaves to make him scented snuff; Boasts of improvements, and presumes to say, France still the polish gives and we the _rough_. Still let him boast, nor put John Bull to shame, His Gascon tales shall Englishmen divert; France for her trifles has been _dear_ to fame, From her the ruffle sprung, from us the shirt. The lib'ral Spaniard and the Portuguese, Spread richest dainties brought from realms afar; Nor think their festive efforts form'd to please, Unless redundant breathes the light cigar. So when our Druids inspiration sought, They burnt the misletoe to fume around; Th' inspiring vapours gave a strength to thought, They dealt out lore impressive and profound. Methinks I see them with the mental eye, I hear their lessons with attention's ear; Of early fishing with the summer fly, And many a pleasing tale to anglers dear. The while they draw from the inspiring weed, They boast a charm the smoker owns supreme; And now diverted with the polish'd reed, Forego the little fish-house by the stream. Tho' this be fancy, still it serves to shew, That Wisdom's sons have lov'd Columbia's pride; And shall, while waters round our island flow, Tho' fools and fops its healing breath deride. Mem'ry still hold me in thy high esteem, For lonely setting upon the day's decline; Visions sublime, before my fancy gleam, And rich ideas from her stores combine. _The Social Pipe._ WALTON AND COTTON.[8] Our sires of old esteemed this healing leaf, Sacred to Bacchus and his rosy train; And many a country squire and martial chief, Have sung its virtues mid a long campaign. Methinks I see Charles Cotton and his friend, The modest Walton from Augusta's town; Enter the fishing house an hour to spend, And by the marble[9] table set them down. Boy! bring me in the jug of Derby ale, My best tobacco and my smoking tray; The boy obedient brings the rich regale, And each assumes his pipe of polish'd clay. Thus sang young Cotton, and his will obey'd, And snug the friends were seated at their ease; They light their tubes without the least parade, And give the fragrance to the playful breeze. Now cloud on cloud parades the fisher's room, The Moreland ale rich sparkles to the sight; They draw fresh wisdom from the circling gloom, And deal a converse pregnant with delight. The love-sick Switzer from his frozen lake, Lights thee to cheer him thro' the upland way; To her who sighs impatient for his sake, And thinks a moment loiter'd, is a moon's delay. The hardy Scot amidst his mountain snow, When icy fetters bind the dreary vale, Draws from his muse the never-failing glow, And bids defiance to the rushing gale. The honest Cambrians round their cyder cask, In friendship meet the moments to solace; Tell all thy worth as circles round the ask, And cheerly sing of "Shenkin's noble race." The hardy tar in foamy billows hid, While fiery flashes all around deform; Clings to the yard and takes his fav'rite _quid_, Smiles at the danger and defies the storm; And when the foe with daring force appears, Recurrent to the sav'ry pouch once more, New vigour takes and three for George he cheers, As vict'ry smiles, and still the cannons roar. The soldier loves thee on his dreary march, And when in battle dreadful armies join; 'Tis thou forbids his sulphur'd lips should parch, And gives new strength to charge along the line. Thy acrid flavour to new toil invites The ploughman, drooping 'neath the noon-day beam; Inspir'd by thee, he thinks of love's delights, And down the furrow whistles to his team. Thus all admire thee: search around the globe, The rich, the poor, the volatile, the grave; Save the SWEET fop, who fears to taint his robe, The smock-fac'd fribble, and the henpeck'd slave. Thus all esteem thee, and to this agree, Thou art the drug preferr'd in ev'ry clime; To clear the head, and set the senses free, And lengthen life beyond the wonted time. _The Social Pipe._ ON A PIPE OF TOBACCO. BY ISAAC HAWKINS BROWN, ESQ. Pretty tube of mighty power! Charmer of an idle hour; Object of my hot desire, Lip of wax and eye of fire; And thy snowy taper waist, With my fingers gently brac'd; And thy lovely swelling crest, With my bended stopper prest; And the sweetest bliss of blisses, Breathing from thy balmy kisses; Happy thrice and thrice agen-- Happiest he of happy men! Who, when again the night returns, When again the taper burns; When again the crickets gay, Little crickets full of play; Can afford his tube to feed, With the fragrant Indian weed; Pleasure for a nose divine, Incense of the god of wine! Happy thrice and thrice agen-- Happiest he of happy men! MY LAST CIGAR. The mighty Thebes, and Babylon the great, Imperial Rome, in turn, have bowed to fate; So this great world, and each 'particular star', Must all burn out, like you, my last cigar: A puff--a transient fire, that ends in smoke, And all that's given to man--that bitter joke-- Youth, Hope, and Love, three whiffs of passing zest, Then come the ashes, and the long, long, rest. A REVIEW OF THE LAWS AND REGULATIONS CONCERNING TOBACCO. During the reign of Elizabeth, a facility had been afforded to the dissemination of tobacco, that was soon destined to receive a check, on the accession of her successor, James the First, to the throne. This arose from a prejudice, that, with many others, rendered this weak and vacillating monarch remarkable. Whether it arose, as many have supposed, from his dislike to Sir Walter Raleigh, so despicably and cruelly shown, and that the source of his peculiar feelings turned with bitterness to the plant of that great man's adoption, can only be left to the imagination to decide; but that he exerted all the powers of his mind for its entire suppression, is certain. In the first place, the importation duty had been, up to this period, but 2_d._ per lb., and this, by the first law James passed, was increased to 6_s._ 10_d._, thus adding the comparatively enormous sum of 6_s._ 8_d._ to the previously existing trifle. In consequence of this, nearly a stagnation of the trade took place; and _Stith_ informs us, that so low was it reduced in 1611, that only 142,085 lbs. weight were imported from Virginia, not amounting to one-sixth of the previous annual supply. One of two things now only remained to be done, as the traders could have no interest to gratify in shipping it under the existing law; they were either compelled to give it up or cultivate it at home. The latter alternative was adopted, and till the year 1620, the tobacco-plant was cultivated to a very considerable extent. But the obduracy of its royal enemy was not to be so eluded, an act was passed especially prohibiting its culture at home. The crisis of the plant's fate seemed now to approach. Determining on the other hand, not to forfeit an indulgence, that habit in a great degree had made necessary, it was examined and found in the reading of the act made in 1604, that though it particularly provided 6_s._ 10_d._ duty should be levied on all tobacco _from Virginia_, no mention was made of its importation from any other colony. Taking advantage of this omission, recourse was immediately had to the Spanish and Portuguese districts, and the consequence was an influx of the favorite herb at the old duty of 2_d._ The only real sufferers through adopting this new channel of commerce, were the planters of Virginia, who made a representation of their loss to the throne, when another law was passed, lessening the duty and prohibiting the importation from any other place. To this effect an act was passed in 1624, and though it was some time previous to the trade regaining any thing like its pristine vigour, it had but just began to do so, when, as if the sight was doubly hateful to James, he had a new law passed. This was to the effect, that none, under very heavy penalties, should deal in the article without holding letters patent from himself. A blow so sudden and unexpected, occasioned the ruin, we are told, of many thousands, and the trade went rapidly to decay. So uncertain and precarious did the law at this period seem with regard to tobacco, and so well was the irritable monarch's antipathy to it known, by the celebrated "Counterblaste" he had written against it, of which we shall treat hereafter, that few cared to speculate in the traffic. Although the act James had made in 1620 was not repealed, the cultivation of the plant was still carried on clandestinely to a very great extent. Most of the laws, indeed, since James's time, have an evident tendency to banish tobacco from the kingdom. An act was made 12th Car. II. cap. 34. This law, embracing the prohibitory portions of the preceding acts, confiscated the tobacco so found, with a fine of 100 shillings for every pole of land so planted. Another shortly followed after this, the 15th Car. II. cap. 17, wherein the previous one was enforced, and the penalty fixed at 10_l._ for every rod. By this we may infer, that the former of these acts had not, in the estimation of the legislature, been sufficiently powerful to restrain the practice of the secret culture of the plant at home. Turning aside from the perusal of these laws, which probably arose from the pique of a learned though imbecile monarch, we cannot but reflect with a feeling of surprise, that our own _enlightened_ regulations have their origin distinctly traced to them. This is an assumption I think we may fairly maintain, when we state that the duty is now 3_s._[10] per lb. on the importation of the raw material; a sum that forms no less than _fifteen times its prime cost_ in the countries where it is produced. On the leaf manufactured it is immense, the duty on cigars being 9_s._ the lb. (5th Geo. IV. cap. 48,) and on snuff 6_s._ That tobacco, as a luxury, is a fit article for taxation we are not disposed to deny, but a little reflection must convince any one, that a tax so exceedingly high, instead of adding to the revenue, can but have an opposite effect; for what can be a greater incentive to the contraband trade that is notoriously known to exist in this article of home consumption? If the duty were lowered, the great cause of smuggling in this line would no longer remain, and at the same time a much greater quantity would doubtless be consumed. If we but look back in other instances of a similar kind, we shall generally find it so. The duty on spirits in Ireland and Scotland was decreased from 5_s._ 6_d._ the wine-gallon down so low as 2_s._, which instead of lowering the amount of the annual tax, very considerably added to it. Then again, in regard to the duty formerly levied on French wines, it was lowered from 11_s._ 5-1/2_d._ down to 6_s._ the gallon, a reduction that also greatly tended to increase the amount of the year's revenue. The duty on coffee is another proof we shall cite: in 1823 it was 1_s._ per lb. and the goverment derived from it that year 393,708_l._ Whereas when half of the amount levied was taken off, leaving it but 6_d._, in 1825 the gross receipt amounted to 426,187_l._ Thus may we see, with very numerous other instances that might be named, the advantages arising from a low tax, which we affirm, with few exceptions, will ever be found to benefit the country at large. Nor is this the only evil we have to complain of as regards the tobacco regulations; while the whole system is defective, there is one that more imperatively calls for the attention of the legislature. What we allude to is, the glaring impolicy of obliging our merchant service to traverse different portions of the globe, at a consequently large expence, in search of an article we have the means of producing at home, and whose very production would furnish constant employment to some of the millions now a burthen to the country. Perhaps it would scarcely be credited, that in 1826, no less a quantity of tobacco and snuff was imported than 40,074,447 lbs. Now out of this, only 18,761,245 lbs. paid duty; yet to the serious amount of 3,310,375_l._ sterling. The rest we suppose sought a market elsewhere. As a proof of the evident want of policy in our regulations concerning tobacco, we shall give our readers a slight abstract to judge for themselves. No tobacco shall be imported but from America on pain of forfeiture, with the vessel and its contents, except from Spain, Portugal, and Ireland, from which it may be imported under certain regulations. (29 Geo. III. c. 68.) But tobacco of the territories of Russia or Turkey may be imported from thence in British-built ships and warehoused, and may be exported or entered for home consumption on payment of the like duties as tobacco of the United States of America; and on its being manufactured in Great Britain and exported, shall be entitled to the drawbacks. (43 Geo. III. c. 68.) By the 45 Geo. III. c. 57, tobacco the production of the West Indies or the continent of America, belonging to any foreign European state, may be imported into certain ports specified in the act, and exported to any port of the United Kingdom subject to the regulations of the act; and such tobacco shall pay the same duties as that which is the growth of the British West Indies, or of the United States of America. By the 49 Geo. III. c. 25, unmanufactured tobacco may be imported from any place in British vessels navigated according to law, or in foreign ships navigated in any manner whatever belonging to any state in amity with Great Britain; and such tobacco shall be liable to the same regulations as tobacco from the British plantations. But no tobacco or snuff shall be imported in any vessel of less burthen than 120 tons; nor any tobacco-stalks, tobacco-stalk flower, or snuff work in any vessel whatever; nor any tobacco or snuff in casks less than 450 lbs. on the like penalty; except loose tobacco for the crew not exceeding five lbs. for each person; nor shall the vessel be forfeited, if proof be made, from the smallness of the quantity, that such tobacco or snuff was on board without the knowledge of the owner or master. (29 G. III. c. 68.) And no tobacco or snuff shall be imported, except at London, Bristol, Liverpool, Lancaster, Cowes, Falmouth, Whitehaven and Hull, (and by 31 Geo. III. c. 47, Newcastle-upon-Tyne), on the like forfeiture. Every manufacturer of tobacco or snuff shall take out a licence from the officers of excise, for which he shall pay, if the quantity of tobacco and snuff-work weighed by him for manufacture within the year ending the 10th of October, previous to his taking out such licence did not exceed 20,000 lbs. £. 2 0 0 Above 20,000, and under 30,000 3 0 0 30,000 40,000 4 0 0 40,000 50,000 5 0 0 50,000 60,000 6 0 0 60,000 70,000 7 0 0 70,000 80,000 8 0 0 80,000 90,000 9 0 0 90,000 100,000 10 0 0 100,000 120,000 12 0 0 120,000 150,000 15 0 0 150,000 ------ 20 0 0 Every person who shall first become a manufacturer of tobacco or snuff, shall pay for every such licence 2_l._, and within ten days after the 10th of October next, after taking out such licence, such further additional sum as, with the said 2_l._, shall amount to the duty hereinbefore directed to be paid, according to the quantity of tobacco and snuff-work weighed for manufacture. And every dealer in tobacco and snuff shall take out a licence in like manner, for which he shall pay within the liberties of the chief office in London 5_s._, elsewhere 2_s._ 6_d._ (43 Geo. III. c. 69.) But persons licensed as manufacturers who shall not sell tobacco in a less quantity than four pounds, nor snuff than two pounds, need not be licensed as dealers. (29 Geo. III.) Every person who shall manufacture or deal in tobacco or snuff without taking out such licence, or shall not renew the same ten days at least before the end of the year, shall forfeit, if a manufacturer 200_l._, and if a dealer 50_l._ Persons in partnership need not take out more than one licence for one house. Every manufacturer and dealer shall make entry in writing of his house or place intended to be made use of for manufacturing, keeping, or selling tobacco or snuff, three days previous to his beginning, on pain of forfeiting 200_l._, and also the tobacco and snuff there found, together with the casks and package which may be seized by the officers of the customs or excise. THE IMPORTANCE OF SMOKING AND SNUFF-TAKING, EXEMPLIFIED IN A GRAVE DISSERTATION, DEDICATED TO THE YOUTH OF THE RISING GENERATION. What soothes the peasant when his toil is done? He cheerly sits beside his cottage door, In the sweet light of ev'ning's parting sun, His young ones sporting o'er the sanded floor:-- What cheers the seaman, when the fight is won, And vict'ry smiles upon our naval band? Toiling no longer at the murd'rous gun, His thoughts are proudly of his native land. What charms the Turk, Greek, Frenchman, fop or sage, In this enlighten'd comfort-loving age; Since health, and pleasure's cheerful reign began, But lov'd tobacco, sovereign friend of man?--M. S. "For the taking of fumes by pipes, as in tobacco and other things, to dry and comfort."--_Bacon._ "Bread or tobacco may be neglected: but reason at first recommends their trial, and custom makes them pleasant."--_Locke._ Hail! inspirers of the profoundest and the brightest things that have been said and done since the creation, and, in the strength and plenitude of our recollections of thy divine virtues, aid us to sing thy praises! What though there be those, who, in the whim, caprice or ignorance of thy merits, would run ye down in the plenitude of their prejudices--have ye not stood the test of time, that criterion of excellence? Are ye not, most sublime of pleasures, independent of your other numerous claims upon public and private favour--are ye not immortalized by the hallowed names of the great, the good, the wise, the witty and the learned, whose encomiums of your worth shall descend with you, through the future ages of unborn posterity. What! shall it ever be said that the disaffected to the great public cause, the innovators upon common taste, shall be allowed to progress in their rash undertaking, of seeking to undervalue the importance of those gentle consolers through life, the snuff-box and pipe. Never! while there's a Woodville--nay, even a Dhoodeen,[11] to smoke them to defiance, or a pinch of 'high dried,' to father a witty reply. Much-injured and defrauded of habits--friends of past and present learning and genius--of every land and every clime--sought by rich, as well as poor, and alike soothing to the king as slave, how have ye not been calumniated by the weak and designing! As the poet saith, "Envy doth merit as its shade pursue," and so is it with you. Oh that those standing highest in the popular favour--the 'tried and trusty'--should ever be the objects of attack to the discontented! Most delectable of companions! how many tender reminiscences and recollections are associated with you, from the last pipe of the murdered Raleigh in Newgate, to the dernier pinch of the equally unfortunate Louis XVI, ere they mounted scaffolds, it is hoped, for a better world. If we turn to the imagination, how many endearing recollections connected with our subject throng upon us, even from the once happy days of our boyhood, when in secret we pored over the pages of genius in preference to scholastic lore. Rise up before us, thou soul of philanthropy, and humorous eccentricity, my uncle Toby! with thy faithful and humble serviteur the corporal.[12] Methinks, indeed, we now see ye together in the little cottage parlour, lighted up by the cheerful fire, discoursing of past dangers and campaigns under the soothing influence of the narcotic weed, whose smoke, as it rises in fantastic curls from either pipe, harmonizes together like your kindred souls. And thou, too, poor monk,[13] offspring of the same pervading mind, yet picturing many a sad reality, must thou be forgotten, absorbed as thou art from all the grosser passions of our nature? Our memory paints thee, impelled by the courtesy of thy gentle nature, proffering thine humble box of horn, thy pale and intellectual face, so sensitive, half-shrinking from the fear of 'pride's rebuff:' whilst thou thyself, from the sneers of the affluent, seekest consolation in--a pinch of snuff! Good Vicar of Wakefield![14] man of many sorrows, we greet thee in our reminiscences, sitting in thine happier days beneath the elm that shades thy rustic roof, as, under the influence of thy much loved pipe, thou inculcatest to the youthful circle around thee maxims of truth and piety. What peculiar feelings of veneration must we attach to these pipes and snuff-boxes. Without them, indeed--with such a true knowledge of life are they introduced--the stories would lose half their force, and nearly all their effect. How naturally do we associate with a smoker, a blandness and evenness of voice and gesture, which we can by no means ascribe to men in common. The same almost in regard to the snuff-box: the mind seems to acquire a polish and fire at its very sight. Nay, absolutely such is our profound respect for the sympathising herb, that even the _quids_ of poor Lieutenant Bowling[15] himself would appear venerable in our eyes were they but in existence. Lowering our Pegasus a peg or two from the loftier flights of conception, we will proceed more immediately to analyze the merits of these legitimate offsprings of the parent plant, smoking and snuff-taking; first of all, however, having recourse to a pinch of Welsh, to clear our head for so arduous an undertaking. That smoking and snuff-taking have, as habits pernicious to the health, been attacked repeatedly by the heads of science, is no less true than that they have escaped each intended flagellation, and thrived under the fostering lip and nose of a discerning public. Previous, however, to proceeding further, we shall take a review of the different enemies arrayed against the good old customs we have had handed down to us from our fathers. These may most generally, we think, be divided into three classes--the ladies,--physicians, and a certain class of thin and pallid gentlemen, remarkable for the delicate susceptibility of their noses. The ladies of England designate smoking and snuffing, filthy and dirty habits. If you chance, dear reader, to ask why--because--because--they are vile and dirty habits, and thereby--'hangs a tale.' Then, as a matter of course, comes to be cited a list of the most gentlemanly men, young and old, who are never guilty of committing the sin. Now, what does all this come to?--that they do dislike the habits, and therefore none but brutes, among the more refined orders, would think of annoying them by practising either in their sweet presence. The understandings of women generally, in comparison with those of men, are proverbially weak. Following the erratic course of the first of their sex, who brought misery and woe upon the devoted head of man, they in turn would fain deprive him of his two cheapest comforts, left to console him in this vale of sorrow. Reader, if thou should'st chance to be a married man, when thy rib--so vulgarly called in epitome, though perchance the better half of thyself--rails against thy only consolation in domestic broils,--smoking--answer not, we beseech thee. No, not a word of the volume of eloquence we fancy rising indignantly in thy throat, against the cruel calumnies levelled at thy favorite Virginia, as thou valuest the safety of thy tube, whether Dutch or Merschaum. The voice of an angel would not avail thee in thy cause. With reference to the _faculty_, though divided in opinions, we shall only notice those arrayed against the plant divine. Indeed, the enmity of a physician dependent upon his profession for support may be always known; he detests anything cheap and soothing, conducive to health, and thence his frequent antipathy to tobacco in smoking. In regard to snuff he is wisely meek; for what were he himself without the stimulating dust in his pocket? In former times, indeed, its influence perhaps was greater and more respected than the wig and cane together, as Swift says:-- "Sir Plume, of Amber snuff-box, justly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane." Well, and what do the faculty say with reference to smoking? Some will tell you it is hurtful to the lungs; others, that the head and heart are more particularly affected by it; very few of them agreeing precisely as to ill effects to be attributed to it. Grant us patience to bear such ingratitude! While they are indebted for their consequence and fluency of discourse, to the wit-inspiring influence of the herb in grain, they are running it down in another and not less delightful preparation and form. Then, by way of conclusion, like a crier of last dying speeches, comes to be related the death of some very promising young man, who, through the frequent habit of smoking, which he practised against the continued advice of the grave Monitor--made his exit in a consumption. So if a man habituated to the pleasures of a pipe goes off in a consumption, the anti-smokers must immediately assert it was brought on by the use of tobacco. How do we know, indeed, but that its magic influence kept him alive much longer than he would have been, without it: supposing--and we suppose it only for the sake of argument, that one or two, nay, say twenty in the thousand, suffer in their health through smoking,--the abuse and not the use of which we candidly admit may slightly impair some peculiar constitutions,--where is the recreant who does not, feeling the joys of smoking, say with us, a "short life and a merry one!" What, after all, are a few years in the scale of human existence! Is the fear of losing one or two of their number, to deter us from availing ourselves of innocent pleasures within our reach?--if so, London, methinks, would soon be deserted by the scientific and intelligent portion of its inhabitants, merely because the Thames water chances to be a little poisonous, or so, and the air of the town notoriously unhealthy. By the same silly fear, too, the gourmand must abstain from the pleasures of the table,--fashionables from late hours, and the army and navy from hard drinking; in all of which the aforesaid, like true spirits, exclusively delight and take a pride; doubtless, inspired in seeking to indulge in what our own bard, Byron, says: "aught that gave, Hope of a pleasure, or peril of a grave." An evident proof, if any be wanting, that beings of a pacific disposition are as careless of facing death as those who have served an apprenticeship to it. Once more, taking the most virulent of the medical enemies of smoking, on their own assertions, and supposing people are killed outright by smoking, why should this deter others from practising it? What is more common, than that each year presents us with numerous deaths in every department of recreation, whether riding, sailing, shooting or bathing; and yet we should be surprised to learn that ever it deterred others from following similar pursuits; then, wherefore, on their own shewing, should the harmless happy recreation (that to the poor comprehends all the above amusements) be excepted?--Why, indeed?--O! ye sons of the 'healing art,' we throw reason away upon ye, and _we_ have too much reason to fear that the true lights of science are lost to ye for ever, when ye attack that which is so beneficial to man. The next, and in fact the most excusable of the triumvirate confederacy against smoking and snuff-taking, the former more particularly, that now calls for our attention, are the gentlemen of weak palates. These, first caught by the look of the thing, from perceiving the mild serenity ever attendant upon a smoker, and marking the sententious discourse of wisdom flowing like honey from his lips, have essayed the practice, without effect. At length, finding their nerves could never sustain the delightful fumes, without certain inward admonitions, that were not to be neglected or trifled with, they gave up all thoughts of that, which seemed to make so many happy. Now, nothing is more common in metaphysics, than to know that when a fancy or love is not returned by the object of affection, it generally turns into as great a hatred. Nothing, therefore, is more easily exemplified than the violence of the dislike expressed by this order of 'tobacco's foemen.' Although the efforts of the above, with the exception of an occasional treatise against the pernicious effects of tobacco from the medical department, are confined to oral discussion of the subject; the genial herb has enemies of a more aspiring and determined cast. These parties are not contented with throwing their antipathies on the sympathy of their own friends, but they must even occasionally cast them upon the public in the awful form of a printed sheet. Some of these, though written in a very grave style, are really amusing, and we shall note a couple of them, among many other originals before us, in proof. The first of these is the celebrated Counterblaste by King James the First, written apparently in all the rancour of prejudice, and occupying rather a curious place among his learned works. The second is a tract (published in 1824) entitled, "An Appeal to Humanity, in behalf of the Brethren of the Heathen World: particularly addressed to Snuff-takers and Tobacco-smokers in all Christian Lands.--Second Edition." The application and tendency of this most facetious of pamphlets is, neither more nor less, than to induce the world at large to abstain from tobacco and snuff-taking altogether, and bestow the money formerly applied for that purpose, to the promotion of the missionary society to convert our 'heathen brethren.' Such is the benevolent object of this barbarian himself--for what else can we, in the indignation that almost overwhelms us at his audacious attempt, call him. When we reflect but for a moment, if he succeeded by the powerful and charitable arguments he uses, the national wealth, powers, and consequences of the kingdom would be undermined. For what, we say, were Englishmen without tobacco?--no more than a Turk without his opium, a Frenchman without his snuff, or any man without an agreeable stimulant to the mind. Had he now only sought to deprive us of a meal in the day, our dinner even, for instance, we could have borne patiently with him; but to seek,--to conceive,--to attempt, banishing one of the most soothing,--sympathising, and truest friends from the mansions of John Bull, is an atrocity we scarcely can credit; did not the identical barbarous proposition glare us in the face in good long-primer. Write of the heathen, indeed! he wants converting himself to a just and proper sense of the darkness in which he walks, or rather we should say, writes, when he could conceive such an enormity. However, after thus premising, we shall allow him an opportunity of speaking for himself. In the first instance, he states, that he had long seriously thought, that the abuse of tobacco in every form is altogether inconsistent with the grand rule of the inspired volume--"Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." (I Cor. x. 31.) After stating what truly astonishing large sums of money are annually expended in tobacco and snuff, he details the following anecdote. "Travelling some time ago in a stage-coach, an elderly lady and a gentleman sat opposite to me. It was not long before the old gentleman pulled out his snuff-box, and, giving it a tap with his finger as the manner is, asked the lady if she would take a pinch; but she declined. As the lady particularly eyed me, I could scarcely refrain from smiling.--(_most facetious!_) 'Perhaps, ma'am, you do not decline taking a pinch, because you think there is any sin in snuff-taking?' 'Oh no. I do take snuff: do YOU think there is sin in it, Sir?' 'Yes ma'am,' said I, 'I think in _some cases_ it is sinful,' (_as cases are in italics we should feel happy to know whether they are of tin or composition he alludes to, but to proceed_.) At this, the lady expressed great surprise (_as well she might_) and would not be satisfied, unless I would assign some reason for thinking that snuff-taking was sinful. At length, for she teazed me, I said to her, 'Pray ma'am, (_cannot he drop the field-preacher and write Madam_) how much in the week may you spend in snuff?' 'Perhaps 7_d._' 'And how many years have you been in the habit of taking snuff?' 'Well, I suppose,' she replied, 'upwards of forty years.' 'Seven-pence a week, you say,--that is something more than thirty shillings in the year,--and if you have taken snuff at this rate for forty years, the same will amount to more than 60_l._' 'You surprise me,--you must be mistaken, Sir.' 'No, Ma'am,' said I, 'I am not mistaken. It amounts to more than 60_l._ without the interest (_profound calculation!_) Now, do you think that God will reward you for taking snuff?' 'Reward me for taking snuff!' said she, 'No, Sir, I do not expect that.' 'But suppose, instead of spending this 60_l._ in snuff, you had spent it in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked;'"--we really can follow these opinions no further, as we have more than one old maiden lady within our ken, that would have actually _fainted_ outright at such a want of modesty. Trusting our reader will bear with us, we shall notice a little more of this self-created minister's appeal in favour of the heathens, who, doubtless, if favoured with the knowledge, could not but feel highly indebted for the exertions of so powerful an advocate in their cause. At the same time we strongly suspect, from the love he has of showing his knowledge of the tables of pence, that the writer was formerly an officiating deputy in a huckster's or chandler's shop, until seduced by the influence of the "spirit that moves" for a nobler call of action. The following is another specimen of his _figurative_ powers. "A few days ago, I mentioned the above anecdote in the house of a farmer. 'Why,' said the farmer, 'I could never have thought that 7_d._ a week would have come to so much.--Do you know my wife and I can assure you, that awhile back, we smoked an ounce a day.' 'An ounce a day,' said I, (_the echo!_) 'What is tobacco an ounce?' (_ignoramus!--we thought he knew not the value of what he attempts to depreciate_). 'Four-pence,' said he. 'Four-pence an ounce, and an ounce in the day, that is 2_s._ 4_d._ per week, and 52 weeks in the year will be the sum of 6_l._ and 4_d._ annually.--O Sir!--I am very sorry for you.'"--(_kind hearted soul!_) Pursuing his system, apparently, of poking his head into the affairs of country farmers, he gives us another trite anecdote, too rich a _morceau_ to be passed in silence; since it so admirably serves to shew the estimation the pipe is held in by the true representatives of John Bull. "Since I commenced writing of this, I had occasion to call upon a respectable farmer, who is a member of your society--(_we smell a rat_)--and a leader I suppose, greatly esteemed by his neighbours, who certainly have the best opportunity of knowing him as a truly pious, and useful man. Almost immediately after we were seated, he called for his pipe (for some people cannot be cheerful or make a wise bargain--_symptoms of the shop_)--unless their heads are enveloped in smoke. 'Now, Sir,' said he, 'can you smoke any, will you have a pipe?' 'No, Sir,' said I, 'I never smoked a pipe in all my life;'--(_miserable man! this he says doubtless by way of shewing his Christian self-denial_). 'I have for a long time considered it sinful, and therefore I never smoke.' 'Sinful,' said he, laughing--(_jolly fellow!_)--'how can it be sinful?' 'Because,' said I, 'it wastes our power of doing good. Did you never consider that.' Upon this his wife who was sitting by, pleasantly observed, 'Our John is a terrible smoker'--(_worthy man!_)--'For goodness sake don't make him believe that it is sinful to smoke. If he can't get his pipe, we shall have no peace: he'll be quite out of temper.' 'Nay,' said I, 'surely not out of temper.' 'Yes, for sure, out of temper enough,--quite peevish and fretful.' 'Now,' said John, 'how thou talks my dear.' 'Talk! why is it not true? Thou wants it first thing in the morning--then again at breakfast time--then again at noon, and then again at night--just as it happens. Why, I'll warrant you (turning to me) he has seven or eight pipes in a day, and sometimes more,'--(_sensible man!_)--'Perhaps,' said I, 'he's sick, and smokes for his health.' 'Nay, nay, sick, bless him! he's none sick, he has got a habit of it you see, and so he thinks he wants it. Oh, he must have his pipe--he can't do without his pipe--sin in it! nay, surely it cannot be sinful.' (_He concludes with his favorite computation_). Upon inquiry, I found, that though the only smoker in the family, yet at a moderate reckoning, he contrives to consume about 5_l._ worth of tobacco every year." This would, doubtless, have been better employed in the hands of the good promoter of the Missionaries, of whom we now take our leave; and to whom, we wish no further punishment for his cruel attempt at seeking to banish the cheerful companionship of the pipe from mansions of peace, than being compelled to the smoking of a pipe of the oldest shag himself. In reference to King James' Counterblaste, although, from its antiquity, as well as the rank and learning of the author, it occupies a serious claim upon our attention, yet, upon the whole, it may be termed nearly as ridiculous as the foregoing, although not in its application. It, indeed, fully bears the stamp of those antipathies that, once conceived, the monarch was seldom or never known to waive. This is more singular, as they were formed against a plant, received into the greatest favour and esteem among all ranks, and, as a medicine, was in far greater request than it is even now. Facts like these plainly establish, that James' dislike, however acquired, proceeded from prejudice and _prejudice_ alone. In the first paragraph, he tells us, that it was first introduced into England from the Indians, who used it as an antidote against "a filthy disease, whereunto these barbarous people (as all people know) are very much subject." After bestowing a volley of abuse upon smoking, not of the most elegant description, he refers to the acquiring of the fashion that certainly generally applies in all things now, as well as it did in his own times. "Do we not daily see, that a man can no sooner bring ouer from beyond the seas any new forme of apparell, but that he cannot be thought a man of spirit that would not presently imitate the same? and so, from hand to hand it spreads, till it be practised by all; not from any commodity that is in it, but only because it is come to be the fashion." Of the popularity of smoking in his time, he says himself, "You are not able to ride, or walk, the journey of a Jew's Sabbath, but you must have a reekie cole brought you from the next poor-house, to kindle your tobacco with?" "It is become in place of a care, a point of good fellowship, and hee that will refuse to take _a pipe_ of tobacco among his fellowes, though by his owne election he would rather not feel the savor of the stinke, is accounted peevish and no good company; even as they do tippling in the COLD Eastern countreys." Of the consequences then often attending the habit of smoking, he observes, "Now how you are by this custome disabled in your goods, let the gentry of this land beare witness; some of them bestowing THREE, some FOUR HUNDRED POUNDS A YEERE upon this precious stinke, which I am sure might be bestowed upon far better vses." Than the assertion of the above individual enormous expenditure, nothing perhaps is better calculated to display James's exaggeration, which actually here can only be considered hyperbolical. The idea, the bare possibility, is scarcely conceivable for a moment, that in those days, three hundred pounds, at least equal to nine hundred of our present money, was ever laid out by a single individual in smoking; excepting, indeed, perhaps, as a very rare and singular occurrence. King James concludes his Counterblaste in the following piece of declamation. "Have you not reason then to be ashamed, and to forbeare this filthie noveltie so basely grounded, so foolishly received, and so grossly mistaken, in the right use thereof? In your abuse thereof, sinning against God, harming yourselves both in persons and goods, and raking also thereby, the markes and vanities vpon you: by the custome thereof, making yourselves to be wondered at by all forreinne civill nations, and by all strangers that come among you, to be scorned and contemned: a custome loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black, stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomlesse." What a pity it is, James never smoked; instead of this long tirade against the most cheerful of all pastimes, we should have had an eulogy, glowing with the warmth and feeling of truth from the head and heart. From the very gall perceivable at times, one could easily know he was an utter stranger to the gentle sympathy of a pipe. He ridicules and condemns that, which, like many others, he knows not, and therefore cannot appreciate. Had he but put the pipe fairly upon its trial, and found it guilty of the mischiefs ascribed to it, then could we have excused him; but to conceive ideas not founded upon truth and justice and the welfare of the kingdom he was called upon to govern, and to act upon those ideas, by the framing of arbitrary laws, repressing the tastes of the nation at large, raises in its remembrance an indignation in our mind, that takes repeated whiffs of our 'German' to quell. Now the truly immense extent of the benefits Europe is indebted to for the introduction of the tobacco-plant, is by no means generally known. For the instruction of our _fellow_ creatures--we say instruction, because probably our numerous readers may never have met with them before,--we shall proceed to enlighten the world upon the subject. If we look backward to the earlier periods of History, what barbarous and savage manners do we not mark characterizing the people and the times. Rapine and murder stalking hand in hand among them, and scarce at all repressed by laws, divine or human. Now mark, sweet readers, especially if true lovers of the invaluable herb, whose praises we are about singing! Mark what "great effects from little causes spring." No sooner did tobacco make its appearance and get into notice and use, than the passions of all men wooing its soothing influence, gradually began to receive a change. As it got more generally diffused, its influence might almost be termed magical; the sword, in a great degree, was exchanged for the quill, the wine-cup for the coffee-cup (thence its use in Turkey always with smoking), and letters began to flourish--the first grand step towards that civilization I shall prove it was gradually destined to effect in the world. Doubtless, like many other great writers, who open out a new light to the world, we shall have enough of sceptics, as opponents, to contend with; but we are sanguine from the facts we shall clearly establish, that far more is to be attributed to the powers of tobacco, than millions dream of. In the first place, it is too well known to admit of much doubt, that tobacco, whether smoked or taken as snuff, exercises a very considerable power upon the mind, more especially when taken in considerable quantities. When such is the case, the faculties are refined and exalted to a degree of spirited buoyancy, that forms a strange and pleasing contrast to the usual unstimulated lethargic state of the mind. We can only compare it, though in a much milder, and more inoffensive degree, to the species of delirium the Turks so vividly describe, when labouring under the effects of opium. The intellectual senses, more particularly that part of them forming the imagination, become so much more powerful and pervading, that its conceptions receive a warmth and strength of colouring they never can, under common excitement. Now tobacco, as we have recorded, was first brought to England in the reign of Elizabeth, who greatly patronized it among the nobles and poorer orders, by whom it came speedily into general use. Most mighty herb!--the effects of thy worship were soon visible, for where do we find a reign so great and glorious either for victories by land and sea, or the distinguished talent and genius, whether in the camp or cabinet, it fostered at home. Then was it, that Shakespeare--the magnificent Shakespeare, (blest and honored was the reign in which he drew life) burst forth like a star destined to excite the astonishment of the world he came to throw the effulgent light of his genius upon. He was a smoker. Then, to sketch forth the gigantic march of intellect, in the ages of which we write, came forth those luminaries of the world; Hobbes, the parent of Locke's philosophy, the profound philosopher Lord Bacon, the most illustrious mathematician and philosopher, Sir Isaac Newton, and the singularly talented metaphysician Locke, each and all of whom were celebrated for their devotion to the soothing and stimulating powers of a pipe! It is related of Hobbes, who was one of the most profound thinkers of his time, that as soon as the dinner was over, he used to retire to his study and had his candle with _ten or twelve_ pipes of tobacco laid by him; then shutting the door he fell to smoking, thinking and writing for several hours together. Locke and Bacon smoked much for recreation; the latter of whom probably was indebted to the practice for the preservation of his life in the plague of 1665, from whose contagious influence in London he sought safety in the country and his pipe. Now, to what, we should like to know, are to be attributed the mighty and successful efforts of these wonderful men, who may justly be considered the founders of modern civilization and literature, but the all--the far pervading fumes of the sovereign tobacco-leaf they worshipped with such devotion. To its exhilarating influence and invigorating aid, exciting the imagination to realms of undiscovered beauties, are we indebted for those works that shall live, while time is,--the wonder of this and all future ages. Are we singular in our opinion? Mark, learn, and inwardly digest, ye unbelievers, what the learned Dr. Raphael Thorious says on the subject:-- "Of cheering bowls I mean to sing the praise, And of the herb that can the poet's fancy raise; Aid me, O! father Phoebus I invoke, Fill me a pipe (boy) of that fragrant smoke, That I may drink the God into my brain; And so enabled, write a noble strain. For nothing great or high can come from thence, Where that blest plant denies its influence." Smile on, ye critics; but let us ask ye, if those works that have so strong a claim to our respect, would ever have come into existence had there been no tobacco, to rarify and stimulate the mind. No!--must be your candid answer, if only in verification of the old saying, '_No pipe, no Parr_.' Then, what mighty blessings are we not indebted for to the much-aspersed, calumniated, and insulted herb. Nor is the fact of its consequence in regard to these first great discoverers in science, the only proofs that exist of its reputation; successive generations, under the weed's cheering auspices, have but continued what they so ably began. Dr. Johnson,[16] Dr. Thorious, Dr. Aldrich, Dr. Parr, Pope, Swift, Addison, Steele, and a host of other approved writers of celebrity, independent of those of the present day, are all similarly indebted to the genial influence of tobacco, under one preparation or another, for the stimulus of their inspiration. The fact is incontrovertible. Where was transcendant literary ability before the introduction of tobacco?--Nowhere--it was unknown:--but, no sooner, we repeat, did IT become known and in use, than its generative powers became quickly visible: the minds of men, though previously barren, became fructified by its influence, and letters flourished. With truth it is observed, we formerly were a nation of readers; but, who is so ignorant as not to know, that as tobacco has become diffused, with knowledge, we are now a nation of smokers and writers. It may, indeed, be fairly set down as an axiom we may rely upon, that nearly every one occasionally gets a penchant for scribbling who smokes or snuffs; from the cobler, whose "_soul_ on higher things is bent," that composes a ditty to the measure of some admired production gracing his stall, to the peer of the realm, who, lounging on an ottoman under the inspiration of prince's mixture, dictates a sonnet, or a novel, to his secretary, as the humour may chance to be of the moment. That tobacco has effected wonders in the promotion and promulgation of knowledge, we flatter ourselves we have plausibly shown; that it is equally distinguished in _diplomacy_ and _war_, is a fact we shall now proceed to demonstrate. To commence then: who ever knew or heard of a plenipotentiary without his jewelled _snuff-box_?--The thing were out of nature: without _it_, indeed, he were but an automaton--a body without a head--a mere 'cypher in the great account,' unbacked and unsupported. So well aware, indeed, are civilized governments of this fact, that snuff-boxes set with brilliants to the value of a _thousand pounds_ are given them, that they may be stimulated to business; diving into the cabals and intrigues of the state,--concealing their own, and, in a word, never be deserted at a PINCH. Nay, so much is snuff the fashion, that a courtier in most European countries without it were a sort of curiosity. Many of the greatest of men, have been remarkable for the snuff they took. Napoleon was among this number; he (acute and penetrating) _was up to snuff_, disdaining your common methods of worshipping that "spirit stirrer" of the human mind, he took it out of his waistcoat-pocket, and when vexed or thwarted by any unexpected occurrence, was always observed to have recourse to it, previous to exerting his mind on the subject. The greatness of his fortunes was commensurate with the quantity he consumed: the greatest snuff-taker in the French territories, it is by no means singular to relate, he became the first in grandeur and consequence, as well as the most idolized of men. At the same time, he was by no means insensible of the powers of smoking, for we find it recorded, that his greatest relief from extreme fatigue (as he used to declare) arose from "a CIGAR, _a cup of coffee, and a warm bath_;" three things, we affirm, highly creditable to the taste of so great a genius. Nor did Buonaparte confine the use of it solely to his own person: fully impressed with its powers, he ordered its use throughout the whole of the French army. The immediate consequence was, that under his influence and that of the stimulating weed, they conquered all before them, and became renowned throughout Europe for their discipline and determined bravery. This may, by those who dive no further than the surface, be attributed to the ability of their general, to a certain degree we in our candour acknowledge; but the grand secret and mover of it was tobacco--sovereign tobacco! What sceptic so rash, dares breathe a doubt of the truth of this statement? Does he require additional evidence?--If so! let him turn his eyes to the British navy. What is it, ever since the time of Elizabeth, from the defeat of the Spanish Armada up to the victory at Trafalgar, has rendered them invincible and the terror of the world?--what, we exclaim, but tobacco! To quids! quids! alone is their success to be attributed; but deprive them of these, and you take the spirit of the men away. Immortal, godlike pigtail! And well too does government know this fact, and wisely institute an allowance to each man. Hunger, thirst, and every hardship is borne without a murmur by each gallant tar, so long as there is pigtail in the locker. Go seek the man, whether _topman_, _afterguard_, or _idler_, who has ever been upon a seven or three years' station, and ask him whence his chief consolation in the watch of safety, or peril, and he, if a true sailor, shall answer with an indescribable roll of the jaw--"Pigtail!!!" 'Tis the essence, in fact, the very quintessence of the man, and its consideration in his mind may be sufficiently gleaned from the following well-known epistle--at once an irrefutable proof, if any be needed. "Warren Hastings East Indyman, off Gravesend. March 24, 1813. Dear Brother Tom; This comes hopein to find you in good health as it leaves me safe anckor'd here yesterday at 4 P. M. arter a pleasant voyage tolerable short and a few squalls.--Dear Tom--hopes to find poor old father stout, and am quite out of pig-tail.--Sights of pig-tail at Gravesend, but unfortinly not fit for a dog to chor. Dear Tom, Captain's boy will bring you this, and put pig-tail in his pocket when bort. Best in London at the Black Boy in 7 diles, where go acks for best pig-tail--pound a pig-tail will do, and am short of shirts. Dear Tom, as for shirts ony took 2 whereof one is quite wored out and tuther most, but don't forget the pig-tail, as I a'n't had a quid to chor never since Thursday. Dear Tom, as for the shirts, your size will do, only longer. I liks um long--get one at present; best at Tower-hill, and cheap, but be particler to go to 7 diles for the pig-tail at the Black Boy, and Dear Tom, acks for pound best pig-tail, and let it be good. Captain's boy will put the pig-tail in his pocket, he likes pig-tail, so ty it up. Dear Tom, shall be up about Monday there or thereabouts. Not so perticuler for the shirt as the present can be washed, but don't forget the pig-tail without fail, so am your loving brother." "T. P." "P. S.--Don't forget the pig-tail." Treating of the milder virtues of tobacco, who ever knew a smoker--one of your twenty years' standing,--ill tempered; or a veteran snuff-taker, who did not occasionally give utterance to witty sayings?--the thing were against reason. In conclusion, what can we say more for thee, omnipotent, prolific herb! than in the inspired lines of thy true admirer Byron? Sublime tobacco, which from east to west, Cheers the tar's labours or the Turkman's rest; Which on the moslems' ottomans divides His hours, and rivals opium and his brides: Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less lov'd, in Wapping or the Strand. Divine in hookas; glorious in a pipe, When tipped with amber, mellow, rich and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing thy caress, More dazzling fair and glaring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire, by far, Thy naked beauties--give me a cigar? THE MEDICAL QUALITIES OF TOBACCO. Of the properties attributable to the plant in the _Materia Medica_, a variety of opinions prevail, and have done, indeed, since its first appearance in the civilized portion of the globe. It certainly cannot but strike the reader as a fact to be very greatly lamented, that science should be so unfixed, even in this much boasted-of-enlightened æra, that some medical men should be found to ascribe every bad and pernicious quality to the use of tobacco; and others, equally celebrated for their professional knowledge, recommend it as a panacea for many ills. Reflection makes this still more dreadful, when we consider these are the men to whose abilities we are frequently compelled to look up, for the preservation of our healths and lives. It would be well, indeed, if this lamentable difference of opinion among the facult existed only in reference to our present subject. We shall now, however, proceed to note some of the ideas of the learned that have been expressed concerning the qualities of the herb, in pharmacy, and quote our first specimen in the following poem, by the famous Dr. Thorious, who most sagely recommends it as an antidote for every evil under the sun. A LATIN POEM, By Raphael Thorious. (_Translated into English by the Rev. W. Bewick._) The herb which borrows Santa Croce's name, Sore eyes relieves and healeth wounds; the same Discusses the kings evil, and removes Cancers and boils; a remedy it proves For burns and scalds, repels the nauseous itch, And straight recovers from convulsive fits; It cleanses, dries, binds up, and maketh warm; The head-ach, tooth-ach, cholic, like a charm It easeth soon; an ancient cough relieves, And to the reyns and milt and stomach gives Quick riddance from the pains which each endures, Next the dire wounds of poison'd arrows cures; All bruises heals, and when the gum once sore, It makes them sound and healthy as before: Sleep it procures, our anxious sorrows lays, And with new flesh the naked bone arrays; No herb hath greater pow'r to rectify All the disorders in the breast that lie; Or in the lungs. Herb of immortal fame, Which hither first by Santa Croce came; When he (his time of nunclature expir'd) Back from the court of Portugal retir'd, Even as his predecessors, great and good. All Christendom now with its presence blesses, And still the illustrious family possesses The name of Santa Croce, rightly given, Since they in all respects resemble heaven: Procure as much as mortal men can do, The welfare of our souls and bodies too. _Dr. Cullen_ observes, that tobacco is generally recognized for its narcotic powers, as well as being a very considerable stimulant, with respect to the whole system, but more especially the stomach and intestines, and acts even in small doses as an emetic and purgative. The editors of the Edinburgh Dispensary also remark, that of late, tobacco under the form of a vinous or watery infusion, given in small quantities, so as to produce little effect by its action on the stomach, has been found a very useful and powerful diuretic. _Dr. Fowler_ published some cases of dropsy and dysury, in which its application was attended with the best effects, and this has been confirmed by the practice of others. Beaten into a mash with vinegar or brandy, it has sometimes proved highly serviceable for removing hard tumours of the _hypochondres_. Two cases of cure are published in the 'Edinburgh Essays.' Considerable reliance has also been placed upon it, by some of the most eminent practitioners, as an injection by the anus of the smoke, in cases of obstinate constipation, threatening _Ileus_, of _incarcerated hernia_, of spasmodic asthma, and of persons apparently dead from drowning or other causes. _Dr. Strother_ speaks of its being beneficial in smoking, to persons having defluxions on the lungs. By long boiling in water, its deleterious power is said to be neutralized, and at length destroyed: an extract made by long decoction, is recommended by _Stubb_ and other German physicians, as the most efficient and safe aperient detergent, expectorant and diuretic.--_Lewis Mat. Med._ _Bates_ and _Fuller_ give many encomiums on its powers in asthmatic cases. _Boyle_ asserts the juice and the plant to be very excellent in curing ulcers and mortifications, although its operation, in this respect, is stated by numerous other authorities, to be deleterious in the extreme. As regarding, indeed, many of the virtues attributed to its use by Lewis and others, in decoctions and poultices, candour obliges us to declare, though with great deference to those opinions which have been expressed by the most eminent of the medical profession, that we cannot consider it of any particular efficacy. We shall, therefore, forbear tiring our readers with recipes of the different forms in which it is prescribed for many illnesses. Taken as snuff, tobacco is generally allowed to be a mild and inoffensive stimulant, which, indeed, in many cases, is prescribed as a most effectual errhine for clearing the nostrils and head. When taken, however, as it frequently is, in excessive quantities, its consequences become often visible, and tumours and secretions in the nose are said to be the result. It is likewise said by some, when taken immoderately, to greatly tend to weaken the sight and bring on apoplexy. _Revenus_ and _Chenst_ likewise wrote against the habit of smoking; but like more modern writers, among whom may be named _Dr. Adam Clarke_, with little or no effect; for it may be set down as a fact, proved in many other instances, as well as this illustrates,--that where a people have the facilities of judging for themselves, they invariably will do so. In this case, practice and precept peculiarly go together. Of the medical qualities of tobacco, as an antidote against contagion, its inestimable efficacy was never better proved, than in the period of the plagues[17] that have at times visited England. _Dr. Willis_ says, in his very able treatise, that its power in repelling the infectious air during the plague of 1665 was truly astonishing; so much so, that the shops of the tobacconists remained quite uninfected. It is also very favourably mentioned by _Richard Barker_, a physician, at the period of the pestilence, who gives it in the following recipe against the plague: "Carry about with you a leaf of tobacco rolled up in tiffiny or lawn, so dipt in vinegar. Smell often to it, and sometimes clap it to the temples for some few minutes of time. For those that smoke tobacco, let them use it with one-fourth part of flower of sulphur, and seven or eight drops of oil of amber for one pipe." Among very many celebrated physicians, who have also recorded and recommended the use of tobacco against the poisonous influence of the plague, may be mentioned _Gideon Hovey_, M.D.,[18] _Dr. Fowler_,[19] and _Diemerbroek_, a distinguished Dutch medical practitioner; besides numerous pamphlets that have been published on the subject of the plague. One account, published in 1663 by W. Kemp, professing to recommend the best means to the public to avoid the infection, mentions tobacco in a way, that reminds us somewhat of its warm panegyrist, Dr. Thorious, and is too facetious to be here omitted. The following is the literal transcript:-- "The American silver weed[20] or tobacco, is an excellent defence against bad air, being smoked in a pipe, either by itself or with nutmeg shred, and rew seeds mixed with it; especially if it be nosed, for it cleanseth the air and choaketh and suppresseth and disperseth any venemous vapour; it hath both singular and contrary effects; it is good to warm one being cold, and will cool one being hot. All ages, all sexes and constitutions, young and old, men and women, the sanguine, the choleric, the melancholy, the phlegmatic, take it without any manifest inconvenience; it giveth thirst, and yet will make one more able and fit to drink; it chokes hunger, and yet will give one a good stomach; it is agreeable with mirth or sadness, with feasting and with fasting; it will make one rest that wants sleep, and will keep one waking that is drowsy; it hath an offensive smell, and is more desirable than any perfume to others; that it is a most excellent preservative, both experience and reason teach; it corrects the air by fumigation, and avoids corrupt humours by salivation; for when one takes it by chewing it in the leaf, or smoking it in the pipe, the humours are brought and drawn from all parts of the body to the stomach, and from thence rising up to the mouth of the TOBACCONIST, as to the helm of a sublunatory, are voided and spitted out." Of the poisonous qualities of tobacco, we are informed that a drop or two of the chemical oil of tobacco, being put upon the tongue of a cat or dog, produces violent convulsions, and death itself, in the space of a few minutes; yet, the same oil used on lint, applied to the teeth, has been found of the utmost service in the tooth-ach.[21] A very common opinion prevails among those who do not smoke, that it is bad for the teeth: a belief founded upon any thing but experience, and resulting generally from prejudice. For preserving the gums and the enamel of the teeth, in a healthy and sound state, few remedies can operate better than the smoke of tobacco. In the first instance, it renders nugatory the corruptive power of the juices that invariably set into the interstices of the teeth, and unless brushed away, remain after meals; and, in the second place, it destroys the effluvia arising at times from the breath that, in some constitutions, so quickly brings about a corrosion of the outer surface or enamel. The benefits that have resulted from smoking, in cases of the tooth-ache, have been too commonly experienced to admit of doubt. In a pamphlet that was published some thirty years ago, detailing the adventures of the Pretender; an anecdote is related of its excellence. While taking refuge in the mansion of Lady Kingsland, in the Highlands of Scotland, from his enemies, after having had recourse to many things, he smoked a pipe to free himself from this 'curse o' achs;' and after a short time, received the wished-for relief. As another and concluding instance of the preservative power of tobacco upon the teeth, it is related in the life of the great Sir Isaac Newton, who was remarkable for the quantity of tobacco he smoked, that though he lived to a good old age, he never lost but ONE TOOTH. BOTANICAL HISTORY AND CULTURE OF THE TOBACCO PLANT. Tobacco is a genus of the class _pentandria_. Order _monogynia_; natural order of luridæ (solaneæ, _Juss._)--GENERIC CHARACTERS--Calyx; perianthium one-leafed, ovate, half five-cleft, permanent. Corolla: one-petalled funnel-form.--_Essential Character_--Corolla funnel-form, with a plaited border, stamina inclined; capsule two-valved and two-celled. There are six kinds of tobacco peculiar to America: which we shall proceed to notice in their relative order. 1. Nicotiana Fruticosa, or shrubby tobacco: leaves lanceolate, subpetioled, embracing; flowers acute, stem frutescent. This rises with very branching stalks, about five feet high. Lower leaves a foot and a half long, broad at the base, where they half embrace the stalks, and about three inches broad in the middle, terminating in long acute points. 2. Nicotiana Alba, or white-flowered tobacco. This rises about five feet high: the stalk does not branch so much as that of the former. The leaves are large and oval, about fifteen inches long and two broad in the middle, but diminish gradually in size to the top of the stalk, and with their base half embrace it. The flowers grow in closer bunches than those of the former, and are white: they are succeeded by short oval obtuse seed-vessels. It flowers and perfects seeds about the same time with the former. It grows naturally in the woods of Tobago, whence the seeds were sent to Mr. Philip Miller by Mr. Robert Miller. 3. Nicotiana Tabacum or Virginian tobacco: leaves lanceolate, ovate, sessile, decurrent, flowers acute. Virginian tobacco has a large, long annual root; an upright, strong, round, hairy stalk, branching towards the top; leaves numerous, large, pointed, entire, veined, viscid, pale green; flowers in loose clusters or panicles. 4. Nicotiana Latissima, the great broad-leaved or Oroonoko; formerly, as Mr. Miller says, sown in England, and generally taken for the common broad-leaved tobacco of Caspar Bauhin, and others, but is very different from it. The leaves are more than a foot and a half long, and a foot broad; their surfaces very rough and glutinous, and their bases half embrace the stalk. In a rich moist soil the stalks are more than ten feet high, and the upper part divides into small branches, which are terminated by loose bunches of flowers, standing erect: they have pretty long tubes, and are of a pale purplish colour. It flowers in July and August, and the seeds ripen in autumn. This is the sort which is commonly brought to the market in pots. 5. Nicotiana Tabacum, broad-leaved, or sweet-scented. The stalks of this, which is the broad-leaved tobacco of Caspar Bauhin, seldom rise more than five or six feet high, and divide into more branches. The leaves are about ten inches long, and three and a half broad, smooth, acute, sessile; the flowers are rather larger, and of a brighter purple colour. 6. Nicotiana Angustifolia, or narrow-leaved Virginian tobacco; rises with an upright branching stalk, four or five feet high. The lower leaves are a foot long, and three or four inches broad: those on the stalks are much narrower, lessening to the top, and end in very acute points, sitting close to the stalks. Besides these, it must be remarked, there are many other kinds of tobacco peculiar to different countries. _Nicotiana undulata_, or New Holland tobacco: radical leaves obovate, obtuse, somewhat wavy; stem-leaves sharp-pointed. It came to Kew in 1800, and is perennial in the green-house, flowering all summer long. The settlers at Port Jackson are said to use this herb as tobacco. _Nicotiana plumbaginifolia_, or lead-wort-leaved tobacco: radical leaves ovate, contracted at the base; stem-leaves lanceolate, clasping the stem; all undulated; corolla salver-shaped, acute. The native country of this species is unknown. It has been cultivated in some Italian gardens, and there were flowering specimens in May 1804, in the store of the late lady Amelia Hume. _Nicotiana axillaris_, or axillary tobacco: leaves opposite, ovate, flat, nearly sessile; stalk axillary, solitary single-flowered; corolla obtuse; segments of the calyx deep, spatulate. Gathered by Commerson at Monte Video, and communicated by Thouin to the younger Linnæus. Leaves rather above an inch long, and near an inch wide, downy, and apparently viscid, like the rest of the herbage. Fruits unknown. _Nicotiana tristis_, or dull-purple tobacco: leaves lanceolate, wavy, clasping the stem; corolla salver-shaped, its tube not twice the length of the calyx, and scarcely longer than the obtuse limb. Gathered also by Commerson at Monte Video. _Nicotiana rustica_, common English tobacco: leaves petioled, ovate, quite entire; flowers obtuse. The stalks of this seldom rise more than three feet high. Leaves smooth, alternate, upon short foot-stalks. Flowers in small loose bunches on the top of the stalks, of an herbaceous yellow-colour, appearing in July, and succeeded by roundish capsules, ripening in the autumn. This is commonly called English tobacco, from its having been first introduced here, and being much more hardy than the other sorts, insomuch that it has become a weed in many places. _Nicotiana rugosa_ of Miller, rises with a strong stalk near four feet high; the leaves are shaped like those of the preceding, but are greatly furrowed on their surface, and near twice the size, of a darker green, and no longer on footstalks. _Nicotiana urens_, or stinging tobacco: leaves cordate, crenate; racemes recurved; stem hispid, stinging. Fructification in racemes directed one way and revolute, with bell-shaped corollas, and cordate leaves like those of Nicotiana rustica; but crenate, and the whole tree prickly. Native of South America. _Nicotiana glutinosa_, or clammy-leaved tobacco: leaves petioled, cordate quite entire; flowers in racemes, pointing one way, and ringent. Stalk round, near four feet high, sending out two or three branches from the lower parts. Leaves large, heart-shaped, and a little waved. _Nicotiana pusilla_, or primrose-leaved tobacco: leaves of oblong oval, radical; flowers in racemes, acute. This has a pretty thick taper root that strikes deep in the ground; at the top of it come out six or seven leaves spreading on the ground, about the size of those of the common primrose, but a deeper green. This kind was discovered by Dr. Houstoun at Vera Cruz, and he sent the seed to England. _Tabacum Minimum_ (Gen. Em. 358.) appears to be another species, hitherto unsettled, with a branched leafy stem, a span high; leaves ovate on footstalks, opposite; and stalked acute, greenish-yellow flowers. The N. minima of Molina (Poir. in Lum. Diet. iv. 481.), is probably another species, or perhaps the same. Culture.--Tobacco thrives best in a warm, kindly rich soil, that is not subject to be over-run with weeds. In Virginia, the soil in which it thrives best is warm, light, and inclining to be sandy; and, therefore, if the plant is to be cultivated in Britain, it ought to be planted in a soil as nearly of the same kind as possible. Other kinds of soil might probably be brought to suit it, by a surface of proper manure; but we must remember, whatever manure is made use of, must be thoroughly incorporated with the soil. The best situation for a tobacco plantation is the southern declivity of a hill, rather gradual than abrupt, or a spot that is sheltered from the north winds: but at the same time it is necessary that the plants enjoy a free air; for without this they will not prosper. As tobacco is an annual plant, those who intend to cultivate it ought to be as careful as possible in the choice of the seeds; in which, however, with all their care, they may sometimes be deceived. The seed should be sown in the middle of April, or rather sooner in a forward season, in a bed prepared for this purpose, of such soil that has been already described, mixed with some warm rich manure. In a cold spring, hot beds are most eligible for that purpose; and gardeners imagine that they are always necessary: but Mr. Carver[22] tells us, that he is convinced, when the weather is not very severe, the tobacco seeds may be raised without-doors: and for this purpose gives us the following directions: "Having sown the seed in the manner above directed, on the least apprehension of a frost after the plants appear, it will be necessary to spread mats over the beds, a little elevated from the ground by poles laid across, that they may not be crushed. These, however, must be removed in the morning, soon after the sun appears, that they may receive as much benefit as possible from its warmth and from the air. In this manner proceed till the leaves have attained about two inches in length and one in breadth, which they will do in about a month after they are sown, or near the middle of May, when the frosts are usually at an end. One invariable rule for their being able to bear removal is, when the fourth leaf is shrouded, and the fifth just appears. Then take the opportunity of the first rains or gentle showers to transplant them into such a soil and situation as before described; which must be done in the following manner:--The land must be ploughed or dug up with spades, and made as mellow and light as possible. When the plants are to be placed, raise with the hoe small hillocks at the distance of two feet or a little more from each other, taking care that no hard sods or lumps are in it; and then just indent the middle of each, without drilling holes, as for some other plants. "In some climates the top is generally cut off when the plant has fifteen leaves; but if the tobacco is intended to be a little stronger than usual, this is done when it has only thirteen; and sometimes, when it is designed to be remarkably powerful, eleven or twelve are only allowed to expand. On the contrary, if the planter is desirous of having his crop very mild, he suffers it to put forth eighteen or twenty. "This operation, called _topping_, is much better performed by the finger and thumb than with any instrument, because the grasp of the fingers closes the pores of the plant: whereas, when it is done by instruments, the juices are in some degree exhausted. Care must also be taken to rip off the sprouts that will be continually springing up at the junction of the leaves with the stalks. This is termed _succouring_ or _suckering_ the tobacco, and ought to be repeated as often as occasion requires. "When the plantation comes to a proper growth, it should then be cut down and placed in a barn, or covered house, where it cannot be affected by rain or too much air, thinly scattered over the floor; and if the sun does not appear for several days, they must be allowed to _milt_ in that manner; but in this case the quality of the tobacco is not so good." "_Cure._--After the plants have been transferred, and hung sometime, pressing or SMOKING, as it is technically termed, they should be taken down, and again laid in a heap and pressed with heavy logs of wood for about a week: but this climate may probably require a longer time. While they remain in this state it will be necessary to introduce your hand frequently into the heap, to discover whether the heat be not too intense; for in large quantities this will sometimes be the case, and considerable damage will be occasioned by it. When they are found to heat too much, that is, when the heat exceeds a moderate glowing warmth, part of the weight, by which they are pressed, must be taken away; and the cause being removed, the effect will cease. This is called the second or last sweating; and when completed, the leaves must be stripped from the stalks for use. Many omit this last sweating; but Mr. Carver thinks it takes away its remaining harshness, and makes it more mellow. The strength of the stalk is also diffused by it through the leaves, and the whole mass becomes equally meliorated. When the leaves are stripped from the stalks, they are to be tied up in bunches or _hands_, and kept in a cellar or other damp place. At this period the tobacco is thoroughly cured, and as proper for manufacturing as that imported from the colonies. ORIGINAL POETRY. NEW WORDS TO AN OLD TUNE. A COMIC DITTY. Lieutenant Fire was fond of smoke, And cash he ow'd a deal; Tho' some said he'd a heart of OAK, For others it could feel: With wit he was,--not money stor'd,-- His landlord thought it meet, As he'd liv'd free so long on board, Why he should join the FLEET. The station he lik'd not at all, And wish'd the duty o'er; He saw some fights, and many ball, But ne'er saw such before. To banish care, he sought a rod, And smok'd like any mid, But unlike some,--altho' in quod,-- Disdain'd to take a QUID. And though a man, both short and stout, All knew him in a crowd; For oh, he never mov'd, without His head was in a CLOUD: In pris'n he met a friend he'd known Full many years ago, In 'four in hand' his cash had flown, And now he'd come to WOE. Poor Brown, alas! he had been GREEN, And so his hopes had marr'd; But thought it strange in turn, I ween, He should be driven HARD. Now he took snuff, in _quantum suff._, He thought it calm'd his woes,-- While one friend blew the light cigar, The other blew his NOSE. "As we have bask'd in fortune's calm, Now squalls come we'll not flinch," Thus spoke the tar, and gave his arm, And Brown gave him a PINCH. "Now, Fire, all snuffs are good, we know, Except when ill-prepar'd, I love a BOX and you a BLOW, But keep me from BLACKGUARD. At _Lundyfoot_ I am no hand, Seldom its dust I take, ah! Each day or so, by turns, I go From STRASBURG to JAMAICA." "'Tis well, my boy," return'd the tar, "Such journeys you can wend, For fuel here don't go so far, Here's plenty of WALLS-END." Of future scenes of happiness, The tar he often spoke; But they, indeed, as you may guess, But ended all in SMOKE. At length there money came one day,-- Each left the walls unkind; The tar went out--yet strange to say, His ASHES left behind! ODE ON TOBACCO. Gently o'er my senses stealing, Indian-weed, I love thee well; Raising, soothing, passion's feeling, Who can all thy magic tell: Who can paint the soft entrancing, All thy virtues who can know? Moving visions, sweetly glancing, Giving joy and calming woe. Tell me, do the proud ones scorn ye, Does the monarch on his throne, In the countries where are born ye, In the lands of either zone; Prince and beggar, both caress thee, And to thee their homage pay; From Ind to Lapland, myriads bless thee, All bow to thy sovereign sway. True, there are some soft ones ever, Like a drop within the sea; Weak in nerves, yet vastly clever, Who have vainly 'countered thee: But thy strength, their own excelling, Moves the wrath they cannot quell; Envy makes their breast its dwelling, And the grapes are sour as[23]---- STANZAS TO A LADY. IN DEFENCE OF SMOKING. What taught me first sweet peace to blend, With hopes and fears that knew no end, My dearest, truest, fondest friend? My pipe, love! What cheer'd me in my boyhood's hour, When first I felt Love's witching power, To bear deceit,--false woman's dow'r? My pipe, love! What still upheld me since the guile, Attendant on false friendship's smile, And I in hope, deceiv'd the while? My pipe, love! What cheer'd me when misfortunes came, And all had flown me?--still the same, My only true and constant flame, My pipe, love! What sooth'd me in a foreign land, And charm'd me with its influence bland, Still whisp'ring comfort, hand in hand? My pipe, love! What charm'd me in the thoughts of past, When mem'ry's gleam my eyes o'ercast, And burns to serve me to the last? My pipe, love! THE LAST QUID. He seiz'd the quid,--'twas hard and dry, The last one in its nook; The beggar'd sailor heav'd a sigh,-- Despair was in his look. And have I fought, and bled in vain, Are all my comforts o'er-- When shall I see thy like again, Thou last one of my store. High and dry I've kept thee here, In hopes of getting aid; My cruise, alas, is lost, I fear-- Oh why was BACCE made! I've borne all weathers, wind and rain, And patiently I bore-- When shall I see thy like again, Thou last one of my store. His gaze was on the muddy ground, And mis'ry in his eye; Sudden he sprang with eager bound, On something glitt'ring nigh: A sovereign's aid, 'tis very plain, Thank heaven, I ask no more; Soon shall I see thy like again, Thou last one of my store. ANECDOTES. _The Precious Pipe._--Napoleon greatly patronized the habit of smoking in the French army, so that it soon became actually indispensable for the continuance of that _gaité du coeur_, for which his troops were remarkable, even in the moments of severest peril. Under the cheering influence of the pipe, they surmounted all difficulties; and, under its consoling power, bore fatigue, and hunger, and thirst with a fortitude and philosophy, remarkable in the annals of military record. During the latter end of their march to Moscow, and after the burning of the Russian capital, they endured severe privations from the loss of their favourite herb, the stock of which was all expended: nor was this all; they suffered exceedingly through want of food and the inclemency of the weather, with many other evils, the smoking of tobacco had hitherto consoled them for. Such was the general state of the army, when a private of the _Garde Imperiale_, being out with a detachment on a foraging party, chanced to stray from the rest, and, in the skirt of a wood, came upon a little low deserted hut. Overjoyed in the hopes that he might find something to relieve his necessities, he stove in the door with the butt end of his musquet, and instantly commenced a scrutiny, to see if anything had been left behind by those who had evidently lately quitted it. The few articles of comfort it had formerly contained seemed, however, all to have been carried away in the flight of its late inmates, and he was about abandoning his search, when he perceived something stuffed up between the rafters of the ceiling. Thrusting it with his bayonet, a dark bundle fell at his feet: his joy may be better imagined than expressed, when, on untying the rag that bound it, he found a quantity of coarse tobacco. After filling his pouch with it, and stowing the rest of the (to him) invaluable treasure about his person, he pulled forth a short clay pipe, whose late empty bowl he had so often contemplated with melancholy regret, and, having struck a light, filled it with his darling herb, and commenced smoking immediately. "Never," said the soldier, who himself narrated the tale to us in Paris, "since the campaign began, when we started with the certainty, almost, of returning with plunder to enrich the rest of our lives, did I feel half the pleasurable emotions I did, the hour I spent, sitting in the darkened room of that hut, whiffing the grateful fumes from my short pipe. Indulging in visions that for a long time had been a stranger to me, the much-boasted pleasures of the opium eaters, were nothing in comparison to mine.--I seemed in heaven, sir." After having regained the camp, it soon became a subject of remark and discussion, how Faucin (the soldier's name) got his tobacco to smoke, and looked so cheerful, when his comrades would have given all they were worth for the same luxury. Knowing his extreme danger if it should be discovered he had any quantity of tobacco in his possession, he took every opportunity, when questioned, as he often was closely on the subject, to state that it was only a trifling remnant he had preserved. Under this pretence, he refused the numerous applications that were made him for portions, however small. At length, as his short pipe was still perceived week after week, emitting its savoury steam, on their toilsome march homewards, it was generally suspected, and he was openly told, he had plenty of tobacco in his knapsack, and he was threatened, in case of his refusal to divide a share. Firmly believing he should be robbed, if not murdered, by some of his comrades, who watched him with selfish eyes for the sake of the tobacco he carried, he was obliged by prudence to confess the secret to two corporals and a serjeant, and divide a quantity among them. While their line of march was daily and nightly strewed with the dead and dying, and many a gallant fellow breathed his last on the cold beds of snow, they were wonderfully sustained by the tobacco, that kept up their spirits throughout the scene of famine and desolation, and he reached France with the few wretched remnants of the fine troops, who had quitted it with the eagle's flight, amid the shouts of _vive Napoleon_. _An old Quiddist._--A late messenger in a certain public law-office had rendered himself remarkable for the very excellent economy he pursued in the consumption of tobacco. In term time he had always plenty to do, and picked up a sufficient sum to supply the deficiency of business in the short vacations, which enabled him to obtain as much shag as he could well chew at those times, but he never lost sight of the 'rainy day.' He frequently got drunk but never forgot the miseries of the 'LONG VACATION,' and accordingly acted upon the following plan, which, for its genius, has never been equalled in the annals of chawing:--He would begin, for instance, the first day of Michaelmas term, which succeeds the long vacation, with a NEW QUID, which he would keep only about half the usual time in his mouth, and extract only a portion of its nectarine sweets. This quid, instead of casting it at his feet, he would then transfer to a certain snug little shelf in the office, with the most reverential caution, and obtain another. This practice he would repeat five or six times in the course of the same day, and every day during the times before mentioned, and what was the result? When the long vacation commenced, and he had nothing to do, he had collected the amazing quantity of between 14 and 1500 quids!!! These he worked upon, _de novo_, during the long recess, and 'rich and rare' indeed was the collection; it was the poor messenger's only comfort. _Dr. Aldrich._--His excessive love for smoking was well known to his associates; but a young student of his college, finding some difficulty to bring a fellow collegian to the belief of it, laid him a wager that the Dean Aldrich was smoking at that time (about ten o'clock in the morning). Away went the latter to the deanery; when, being admitted to the dean in his study, he related the occasion of his visit. The dean, instead of being disconcerted, replied in perfect good humour, "You see, sir, your friend has lost his wager, for I am not now smoking, but only filling my pipe!" _Chinese Arrogance._--As a precursor to the following, it will only be proper to relate, that in China the use of smoking and snuff-taking is general, although buildings are not thought requisite for curing tobacco, as in the West Indies, there being little apprehension of rain to injure the leaves when plucked. Thus the Chinese grow tobacco enough for their own consumption, and will not allow any to be imported, so as to discourage their own cultivation. This prohibition, which has long existed in that country, was some years ago notified to Mr. Wilkodes, the American consul, then at Canton, in the following manner: "May he be promoted to great powers! We acquaint you that the foreign opium, the dirt which is used for smoking, is prohibited by command. It is not permitted that it shall come to Canton. We beg you, good brother, to inform the honoured president of your country of the circumstance, and to make it known, that the dirt used for smoking is an article prohibited in the celestial empire."--_Paunkbyquia Mowqua, &c. Kai Hing, 22nd year, 5th Month, 22nd day, Canton, May 22nd, 1818._ _Sir Isaac Newton._--This illustrious individual was remarkable for smoking and temporary fits of mental abstraction from all around him; frequently being seized with them in the midst of company. Upon one occasion, it is related of him, that a young lady presenting her hand for something across the table, he seized her finger, and, quite unconsciously, commenced applying it as a tobacco-stopper, until awoke to a sense of his enormity by the screams of the fair one. _Extraordinary Match._--Some years ago, in a public room at Langdon Hills, in Essex, the conversation chancing to turn on smoking, a farmer of the name of _Williams_ boasting of the great quantity of tobacco he could consume at a sitting, challenged the room to produce his equal. Mr. _Bowtell_, the proprietor of the great boot-shop, Skinner-street, and remarkable for smoking "pipes beyond computation," travelling his round at that time, chanced to be present, and immediately agreed to enter the lists with him for five pounds a-side. A canister of the strongest shag tobacco was placed by the side of each at eight o'clock in the evening, when they began the match. Smoking very fast, by the time the clock had struck twelve, they had each finished sixteen pipes, when the farmer, through the dense atmosphere, was observed to turn pale. He still continued, however, dauntlessly on, but, at the end of the eighteenth pipe, fell stupefied off his chair, when the victory was adjudged to his opponent, who, calling for an extra glass of grog, actually finished his twentieth pipe before he retired for the night! DIVANS. Nor ball, nor concert, nor theatre can boast, With all their frippery and senseless fun; Nor broiling taverns, when they shine the most, By hot unruly spirits overrun;-- In dance, or song, or drunken laugh, and toast, With elegance and comfort, cheaply won,-- To cheer the spirits and to refine the man: Hail! books and mocha,--cigars and the divan! It is with feelings of pleasure we have remarked of late years the change that has gradually taken place in regard to places of public nightly amusement. Formerly, the metropolis had no other allurements than were comprised in the theatre or the tavern,--the former of these being but too frequently a precursor to the latter; and that latter, in its turn, among young men in general, to scenes of a worse, and, in the end, more fatal description. As a preventative in a great degree to the above incentives to dissipation, must we welcome the appearance of divans amongst us, forming, as they do, in their quiet and elegant seclusion, a pleasing and intellectual contrast to their more boisterous contemporaries. Divan, or more properly speaking, _Diwan_, by some writers is said to be of eastern origin, and the plural of _diw_, a devil. The appellation, says a Persian lexicographer, was first bestowed by a sovereign of Persia, who, on observing his crafty counsellors in high conclave, exclaimed, _Inan diwan end_--"these men are devils." _Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur_, may be pertinently applied, in this instance, to the councils of more sovereigns than those of Ispahan. Another derivation, and a more probable one, perhaps, is the Turkish word for sopha,--a luxury abundantly supplied in every divan in Turkey. In that country it is a chamber of council held by the Grand Seignior, his pashas, or other high tributaries, in which all the councillors assembled smoke their chibouques during the debate in all the sedate pomp of eastern magnificence. The interiors of these divans are represented by travellers as superbly grand, falling little short of the far-famed description of their harems. Coffee, it must be remarked, is the common beverage used by the Turks whilst smoking, and is commonly handed round with little or no milk or sugar, in small china cups. Taken thus, perhaps, nothing harmonizes with smoking so well on the palate; as the Rev. Dr. Walsh says, in his Travels in Turkey, speaking of tobacco, and in whose judicious remarks we cannot but concur, "I do not wonder at the general use of this most indispensable of Turkish luxuries; it is always the companion of coffee (mocha), and there is something so exceedingly congenial in the properties of both, that nature seems to have intended them for inseparable associates. We do not know how to use tobacco in this country, but defile and deteriorate it with malt liquor. When used with coffee, and after the Turkish fashion, it is singularly grateful to the taste, and refreshing to the spirits; counteracting the effects of fatigue and cold, and appeasing the cravings of hunger, as I have experienced." The popularity of divans in England may be best known by the rapid increase of their numbers since their first adoption here. At the present period there are no less than six popular divans (independent of several obscure ones) in London. These are,-- The Oriental Divan, Regent-street. The Private Subscription Divan, Pall Mall. The Royal City Divan, St. Paul's Churchyard. The Royal Divan, King-street, Covent Garden. The Royal Divan, Strand. The Divan, Charing Cross. The whole of these divans are fitted up in a style of Asiatic splendour and comfort, that produces to the uncultivated eye a very novel and pleasing effect; while, upon a closer examination, the other senses are no less delighted. The Journals of every nation in Europe are a general attraction to linguists and foreigners, while the cream of our own ever fertile press leaves the English reader nothing to wish for in the way of literature. Indeed, no means of entertainment are found wanting at these delightful _soirées_; chess invites the player, pictures the eye, and occasional music the ear; while lounging on a sopha with a cigar in the mouth, the gazer might almost fancy himself in the land of the crescent. The divans in Regent-street and Pall Mall, are considered the most oriental of any in town, though the saloon in the Strand is perhaps the largest. A refinement that peculiarly distinguishes the divan in King-street, is an admirably laid-out garden; at night lit by numerous parti-coloured lamps; in the day during the summer-time it forms a pleasing attraction to all lovers of the cooling shade. Of the Royal City Divan, of whose elegant interior our frontispiece engraving presents so correct a view, we can only say that its allurements are peculiarly attractive. In the first place, the saloon has an advantage in being situated--unlike all the other divans--on the first-floor, and is fitted up in a very superior manner. It likewise possesses, from the extent and spaciousness of the premises, the additional advantage of private refreshment rooms, to which parties of friends can retire from the busy hum of the grand saloon, and enjoy the pleasures of a convivial glass. Altogether, we cannot help observing, ere we conclude, that great merit is due to the several proprietors of the divans for the tasteful and expensive way in which they have furnished their different saloons; while, from the extreme moderation of their charges, they cannot but have strong claims to the patronage of a discerning public. MEMS. FOR SMOKERS. Cigars.--The best and most approved cigars consumed among our nobility and gentry, are those brought from the Havanah in the West Indies. The Woodville, so called from the name of the importer, are held in the greatest estimation. In form, these should gradually decline from the middle to long and tapering ends. Color, a clear raw sienna brown, variegated with bright brown yellow spots. In flavour they should be light and spicy, draw free, leaving a firm white ash. An excellence too, that should distinguish these cigars from the common kind, independent of their taste, should be the length of time they are capable of retaining their light without being drawn. The strong flavoured Cuba, by smokers of long standing, when indeed a pipe has not altogether superseded the cigar, are in the greatest request. These vary in color from black to brown, according to the strength or age of the leaf; and like the Woodville, are also distinguished when properly seasoned, and kept by mildew spots, though of a darker hue. The tobacco of the Cubas growth is very frequently made up into cheroots, a form some prefer to the cigar, and are sold under the denomination of Manilla. Without entering into a description of the numerous kinds of cigars vended in the United Kingdom, we can only remark, as a fact well authenticated, that the greater and more common part, sold from eight to thirteen shillings the hundred; are prepared from the cabbage-leaf, soaked in a strong solution of tobacco-water. Cigars, so composed, are generally passed off under the names of _Hambro'_, _Maryland_, and _Virginia_. The same deceptions may be said to exist, in respect to the small cheroots, whether scented or not: they are, with comparatively trifling exceptions, nearly all of British make. The reason is obvious, why these deceits are practised: in a former part of this little work, we stated the duty on the imported raw leaf of tobacco to be three shillings per lb., while on the _manufactured_, it is just thrice that amount: at once a reason why a good price must needs be given for the genuine foreign article. A great saving is effected in purchasing cigars by the weight or box as imported, while from a respectable shop you may be always sure of their being made abroad, as they are sent under seal in boxes from the West Indies. _Tobaccos._--An idea prevails among young smokers, that tobacco, independent of its fancied vulgarity, is always much stronger than cigars; an error that is very common. Like cigars, indeed, it is of various growth and quality, and like them, may be had weak, or strong. The smoker, if he desires it, can have tobacco as weak as the mildest Havanahs. The only difference in their manufacture is, the leaf is cut into shreds to form the one, and wrapt up to form the other. The Persian, Turkish, and Maryland tobacco, are the mildest. The shag and twists, the strongest; the latter of which, as its name implies, is manufactured uncut; its excellence may always be told by a shining cut and an agreeable smell. Besides these, we have tobaccos under an infinite number of appellations, with all the variations in their nature, incident to climate, growth, age, and method of being prepared for use. The tobacco held in the greatest esteem in the East, is the Persian. The Turks, notwithstanding their own excellent growth of the plant, give very high prices to possess it; especially that which comes from, _Shiraz_. This is accounted the best. The moslems are also much in the habit of smoking a composition of opium and rose leaves with their tobacco through scented waters. A similar practice is common in India among the higher class; the same materials are made into a thick consistency and rolled into balls, which they term _Jugeny_. To the unpractised palate, the smoking of this composition has a strangely exhilarating and intoxicating effect. A singular habit also prevails in the island of Ceylon. Some of the natives wrap the leaf of a strong tobacco they call _Kapada_ into a lengthened form, and then covering it with the leaf of the _Wattakan_ tree, light one end of it, and smoke by the other, till the whole is consumed. Besides the tobacco of the West Indies, Persia and Turkey, considerable quantities are cultivated in the Levant, the coasts of Greece, the Archipelago, the island of Malta, and Italy. _Pipes._--In reference to these essentials to smoking tobacco, a great variety of tastes are displayed, while that of each country forms an amusing contrast to that of its neighbour. In the Eastern portion of the globe, the gorgeous hookah or superb chibouque with their serpent train are caressed: in France, the short twisted pipe: in Germany, the merschaum: in Holland, the long slender black pipe: in America, the short red clay pipe, or the ingeniously manufactured, yet murderous tomahawk, bears the tube of comfort; while in England--happy England--all, or any of these, are attainable. The portable pipes the Turks are in the habit of using have their bowls generally made of a peculiar kind of red clay; and the tube part of jasmine and cherry sticks. The most expensive and those which from their exceeding size, and costliness, are regarded as the most sumptuous furniture of the mansion, are composed of a variety of materials. The tubes, which sometimes have been known to exceed twenty yards in length, are commonly made of leather covered with the richest velvets, and bound with gold or silver wire; this is generally terminated at the one end by a gold, silver, or amber mouth-piece; while the other (when used as it almost always is with scented water) tipped with a reed of a foot long, is placed in a decanter containing the water, through which the smoke is to be drawn; it is then met and joined by a similar reed, bearing the chafing dish; this is of silver, very large, with a fretwork cover of the same metal, through which the fumes of the aromatics used arise. It is by no means an uncommon thing in the East to have these tubes (which are remarkably flexible) carried through the wall of one apartment into another, that the apparatus may not be in the way of the smoker. The merschaum or German pipes, in Europe, are celebrated for the virtues of their bowls, which are of a very porous quality. These are composed of a substance thrown upon the shore by the sea in Germany, and being called _Ecume de Mer_ form the origin of the word Merschaum. In Germany they are commonly set in copper, with leather and horn tubes, but in England they are variously formed and ornamented with chains and tassels. _Tubes_, when they are used for cigars (whose flavour we think they greatly tend to spoil) should be short, and composed of amber. _Lights for Smoking._--The advantage of obtaining an instantaneous light, is perhaps seldom more appreciated than by smokers. The articles used until lately for the purpose of igniting cigars, when out, or travelling, were the Amadou, with the flint and steel--the phosphorus box, and pneumatic cylinder:--all of which were, more or less, uncertain or inconvenient, until the ingenious invention of Jones's Prometheans. These may very fairly be said to possess a never-failing facility in producing an instantaneous light. The Promethean is composed of a small bulb of glass, hermetically sealed, containing a small part of sulphuric acid, and surrounded by a composition of chlorate of potash and aromatics. This is enclosed in paper prepared for the purpose. The light is simply effected by giving the promethean a smart tap that breaks the bulb, when the acid, coming in contact with the composition, causes instant ignition. It must be remarked however, the Lucifers or chlorate matches that ignite, by drawing the match through sand paper, introduced by the same inventor, is decidedly bad for a cigar; the fumes arising from the combustion being offensive, are too apt to spoil the flavour of the leaf. In divans, burners called Jos-sticks, are generally used for lighting cigars, as they smoulder in their light, like the promethean. FINIS. London: Printed by Littlewood and Co. Old Bailey. FOOTNOTES: [1] _Memoires Philosophiques, Historiques, Physiques, concernant lá Decouverte de l'Amerique, &c. Par Don Ulloa. Traduit avec des observations par M----._ Paris, 1787. Vol. II. p. 58. [2] _M. Valmont de Bomare_, formerly director of the cabinets of Natural History, Medicine, &c. to the prince of Conde. [3] The British Historian. [4] A well-known perfumer in his day who resided in Beaufort's Buildings, London, A. D. 1740. [5] Scrows are the untanned hides of buffaloes, sewed with thongs of the same, and made up into bags or bales for the exportation of several kinds of American produce, as indigo, snuff, tobacco, &c. &c. The fleshy side of the skin is turned outwards, whilst the hairy side, partly scraped, comes into anything but an agreeable contact with the commodity. [6] Independent of His Royal Highness's attachment to the Columbian weed, the Duke has a repository where are to be seen, in curious arrangement, all the smoking tubes in use by the civilized inhabitants of the world, from the slender pipe used by the Hollander, to the magnificent Hookah used by the Indian prince in his Court, or on the back of his elephant; and so attentive is the prince to this healthy amusement, that even in his travelling carriage a receptacle is formed for the pipe, the tinder, the flint, and the steel. [7] The Pipe of Peace. [8] The two celebrated anglers. [9] See Walton's complete Angler. Charles Cotton of Beresford Hall, his little Fishing House. [10] Except from British possessions in America, and then it is 2_s._ 9_d._ [11] A short pipe smoked by the lower orders, and generally rendered black by time and the frequent use of the commonest shag tobacco. [12] Sterne's Tristram Shandy. [13] Sterne's Sentimental Journey. [14] By Goldsmith. [15] Smollett's Peregrine Pickle. [16] Antiquarian fact: The identical Pipe and Chair used by the celebrated author of the Rambler are still in being, and are exhibited as relics of no ordinary value, at the house he used formerly to frequent in Bolt-court, Fleet-street. It now goes under the very appropriate appellation of Dr. Johnson's Coffee-house. [17] We more particularly refer to this fact from the reports concerning the Cholera Morbus that are now in circulation. [18] Discourse on the Plague, A. D. 1678--recommends tobacco smoked in a pipe. [19] Physician to the General Infirmary of the county of Stafford, A. D. 1785. [20] At that time frequently so called. [21] Vide Experiments on the Effects of Oil of Tobacco on Pigeons, &c. &c.--Phil. Trans. Vol. xx. Part I. Append, p. 38. Fonbine sur les poissons, Florence. Quarto. [22] Treatise on the Culture of Tobacco. [23] I am sorry to say our leading black primer is all out; I have been down below, but they cannot spare any there.--_Printer's Devil._ 
37388	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive.) TOBACCO LEAVES [Illustration: PLANT OF KENTUCKY TOBACCO _From a Sketch by W. A. Brennan_] TOBACCO LEAVES BEING A BOOK OF FACTS FOR SMOKERS BY W. A. BRENNAN Department of Medical Sciences The John Crerar Library PUBLISHED FOR Index Office, Inc. BY The Collegiate Press GEORGE BANTA PUBLISHING COMPANY MENASHA, WISCONSIN 1915 _First issue December, 1915_ _Copyright 1915 by W. A. BRENNAN_ CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION 7 CHAPTER I 11 _Historical, Botanical._ CHAPTER II 19 _The Cultivation of the Tobacco Plant._ Climatic and soil conditions--Treatment of the growing plant--Shade grown tobacco--Harvesting. CHAPTER III 29 _Production of Tobacco._ Countries which produce tobacco and amount--Production in the New World other than in the United States--Varieties. CHAPTER IV 39 _Production of Tobacco in the United States._ Total production--Amount produced by the different States-- Varieties raised--Description of the different varieties. CHAPTER V 53 _The Chemical Composition of the Tobacco Plant._ Organic and inorganic matters contained in tobacco and the part they play--Analysis of various tobaccos--Nicotine. CHAPTER VI 61 _The Curing of Tobacco Leaf._ Objects of curing--Methods. CHAPTER VII 67 _The Marketing and Sale of Tobacco Leaf._ Methods of disposal by the grower--The warehouse system-- Direct purchase--Principal markets in the United States-- Prices. CHAPTER VIII 75 _Rehandling and Fermentation of Tobacco Leaf Prior to Manufacture._ Selection of leaf--Treatment and blending--Objects and methods of manufacturers fermentation--Action of microbes. CHAPTER IX 88 _Manufactured Products of Tobacco in the United States._ Statistics of production and consumption--Amount of capital invested--Number of plants, etc. CHAPTER X 93 _Cigars: Historical and General Facts._ History--Statistical information regarding the cigar business in the United States. CHAPTER XI 99 _Cigars and Their Qualities._ Qualities of cigars and cigar leaf--Imported cigars--Havanas-- Domestic cigars. CHAPTER XII 111 _Cigar Making._ Hand-made cigars--Machine-made cigars--Classification of cigars--Terms used in the cigar trade. CHAPTER XIII 121 _Pipe Smoking and Chewing Tobacco._ Qualities required--Description of kinds--Perique tobacco-- Statistics. CHAPTER XIV 131 _Cigarettes._ Statistics--Kinds and where made--Imported cigarettes-- Domestic cigarettes--Cigarette papers. CHAPTER XV 143 _Snuff._ How made--Qualities--Description of kinds. CHAPTER XVI 149 _Tobacco Smoking Pipes._ History--How made and materials used in making--Meerschaum-- Briar root--Amber--Special kinds of pipes--Care of pipes. CHAPTER XVII 171 _Effects of Tobacco Smoking on the Human System._ Physical and other effects--Opinions of medical men quoted and discussed. CHAPTER XVIII 195 _The Beneficial Effects of Tobacco._ Its disinfecting action--A protection against infectious disease--Psychological effects of smoking. CHAPTER XIX 207 _Miscellaneous._ Revenue, taxation, etc., in connection with tobacco--Free imports--The insect pests which attack tobacco--Tobacco flavoring fluids, etc.--Formulae. INTRODUCTION This little book is intended for the man who uses tobacco. While there is a very extensive literature concerning tobacco, yet it is surprising how few books there are written expressly for the smoker. Much has been written concerning culture, production and manufacture; the historical and anecdotal aspects have been catered for; pamphlets and books abusing and denouncing the use of tobacco are plentiful; but the smoker will find it difficult to get a book just giving him the facts concerning tobacco and smoking, which he ought to know, and omitting matters, which, although interesting, are not necessary. This little book is an attempt to fulfil that purpose; and it is felt that no apology is needed for its appearance. If the average user of tobacco is questioned concerning the matters treated in the following pages, he will be found ignorant of them. This ought not be so. The custom of tobacco smoking is so general and so intimate a part of the daily life of the great majority of men, that a better acquaintance with the plant, its qualities, uses and effects, should be cultivated and welcomed. No claim is made for originality. The facts here stated have been gathered from various sources and the only credit claimed is for putting them together in a concise and consecutive form. The object aimed at is to give information. Whether the custom of tobacco smoking is desirable, whether in any individual case it would be beneficial or otherwise to smoke--these and similar questions are left to the reader's own judgment from the facts and opinions presented, as well as from his own observations. The man who uses tobacco daily should know what he is doing. If statements are made either verbally or in print concerning the custom he should be able to verify them or show that they are incorrect. It is trusted that the information given in these pages will enable him to form a clear judgment whatever the judgment may be. It may be felt that many aspects of the use of tobacco and matters connected with it have either not been touched on, or only referred to very briefly. The reader who may desire further information will find it in the bibliographical references given throughout the book. These references have generally been consulted by the author and his indebtedness is acknowledged here. TO MY WIFE CHAPTER I HISTORICAL--BOTANICAL HISTORICAL The history of tobacco commences with the discovery of the New World by Columbus. The Chinese claim that it was known and used by them much earlier, but there appears to be no evidence to support this claim. Columbus found the natives of Cuba smoking the dried leaves, and his followers are said to have brought the plant to Spain about 1512. Oviedo published a book entitled _La Historia general de las Indias_ in Seville in 1526, in which he mentions pipe smoking. It may be inferred that this custom was well established in Spain then. Sir Walter Raleigh is usually credited with having brought tobacco to England for the first time from Virginia in 1586; and the Virginian Colonists are known to have cultivated the plant at that time; but there is evidence enough to show that Sir Francis Drake was the first to introduce the plant into England. Drake's voyages were made between 1570 and 1580 and he brought the plant with him in one of these. Some give the date of introduction by Drake as 1560. Raleigh was, however, probably the first English distinguished smoker, and he cultivated the plant on his estate at Youghal, Ireland. There is no doubt about the culture of tobacco by the early English Colonists in the U. S., but it is doubtful whether the plant was introduced by them from England or whether they continued a culture learned from the Natives. From Virginia it spread to the other colonies. In Peru and other parts of South America the growing of tobacco was well established at the time of the Spanish Conquest. In 1560 Jean Nicot, the French Ambassador at Lisbon, sent some tobacco to Catherine de Medici as a cure for headache. Catherine was pleased with it and is said to have become quite addicted to its use. Tobacco was designated the "Queen's herb" and the "Sovereign herb" from this circumstance and Nicot himself is perpetuated in the word "Nicotine" and its derivatives. Many persons erroneously give credit to Nicot for the introduction of tobacco into Europe. It is quite clear, however, from Oviedo's book, quoted above, that the plant was known in Spain very much earlier; and it is most probable that the immediate followers of Columbus brought samples of the leaves and pipes back to Spain with them. Moreover, in 1558, Phillip II of Spain sent Francisco Hernandez, a physician, to investigate the resources, etc., of Mexico, and on his return he brought back tobacco as one of the products, and grew it as a drug. From Spain and England, the use of tobacco spread by degrees all over the known world. REFERENCES PENN, W. A. _The Soverane Herbe; a history of Tobacco._ Chapters I, II. London and New York, 1901. BOUANT, E. _Le Tabac; culture et industrie._ Paris, 1901. SHEW, JOEL. _Tobacco; its history, nature and effects on the body and mind._ Wortley, 1876. BILLINGS, E. R. _Tobacco; its history, varieties, culture, etc._ Chapters II, IV. Hartford, Conn., 1895. COMES, O. _Histoire, geographie, statistique du Tabac. Son introduction et son expansion dans tous les pays depuis son origine jusqu' à la fin du XIX siècle._ Naples, 1900. FAIRHOLT, F. W. _Tobacco; its history and associations._ London, 1876. WOLF, JAKOB. _Der Tabak und die Tabakfabrikate._ Chapter I. Leipzig, 1912. BOTANICAL Tobacco belongs to the family of plants known in botany under the name of _Solanaceæ_. Other well-known members of this family are the Irish potato, the red pepper, the tomato, the egg-plant, etc. American tobacco belongs almost exclusively to that group of this family which comprise the genus _Nicotiana_. Of this genus there are about 50 separate species, one of which, _Nicotiana Tabacum_, supplies almost all the tobacco of commerce. Plants of this species grow from 2 feet to 9 feet in height; they have numerous wide-spreading leaves sometimes as much as 3 feet in length; these leaves may be oval, oblong, pointed, or lanceolate in shape, and are generally of a pale green color when young; they are arranged alternately in a spiral on the stem; the root is large and fibrous; the stem is erect, round and viscid, branching near the top. The alternate arrangement of the leaves on the stalk, succeeding each other spirally, so that the 9th overhangs the 1st, the 10th the 2nd, and so on, is very characteristic. The distance on the stalk between the leaves is about 2 inches. Flowers are in large clusters, with corollas of rose color, or white tinged with pink. The leaves and stalks are covered with soft downy hair. The plant is perennial but crops are usually raised from seed. Of this species (N. Tabacum) there are probably more than 100 varieties grown in the U. S. alone. Some of the best known will be described later. To this same species (N. Tabacum) Havana, East Indian and European tobaccos principally belong. The other important species are: _Nicotiana Persica._ Grown in Persia. This has a white flower and the leaves almost enwrap the stem. It is used almost exclusively as a pipe-smoking tobacco. Some claim that this is only a variant of N. Tabacum. _Nicotiana Repanda._ This is a species of Cuban tobacco entirely different from that grown in the Havana district. It is also called Yara. _Nicotiana Rustica._ A kind of wild growing tobacco principally cultivated in Mexico, and which is claimed as the parent of some of the Turkish, Syrian and Latakia tobaccos although many authorities claim that these tobaccos belong to the species _N. Tabacum_. The European tobacco is hardier than the American parent plant. The leaves are smaller. _N. Rustica._ Also includes common Hungarian and Turkish tobaccos. There are large and small leaved varieties. _N. Crispa._ Grown in Syria and largely in Central Asia. Used as a cigarette tobacco in the Orient. It has been stated above that there are many varieties of _N. Tabacum_ in the U. S. Of these the most important are known to botanists by the names, _Nicotiana Tabacum Macrophylla_ and _Nicotiana Tabacum Angustifolia_. Maryland tobacco belongs to the _Macrophylla_ variety and there are many other types differing from each other according to shape of the leaf, size of the stalk, etc. Virginian tobacco is of the _Angustifolia_ variety, and of this also there are many different types. Most European and other grown tobaccos have been raised from original plants of the Maryland and Virginian varieties. It should be remembered that there is no essential difference in cigar, pipe smoking or cigarette tobaccos. The differences are physical only. All kinds may be obtained from the same species or even the same variety of the species by suitable culture and crossing. REFERENCES ANASTASIA, G. E. _Le varietá della Nicotiana Tabacum._ Scafati, 1906. COMES, O. _Delle razze dei tabacchi._ Naples, 1905. KILLEBREW, J. B. and MYRICK H. _Tobacco leaf; its culture and cure, marketing and manufacture._ Part I. New York, 1897. LOCK, C. G. W. _Tobacco growing, curing, and manufacturing._ Chapter I. London and New York, 1886. WOLF, J. _Der Tabac._ Chapter II. Leipzig, 1912. BILLINGS, E. R. _Tobacco; its history, varieties, etc._ Chapter I. Hartford, Conn., 1875. CHAPTER II THE CULTIVATION OF THE TOBACCO PLANT CLIMATIC AND SOIL CONDITIONS. TREATMENT OF THE GROWING PLANT. SHADE GROWN TOBACCO. HARVESTING. THE CULTIVATION OF THE TOBACCO PLANT A few general facts concerning the culture of the tobacco plant and its treatment until it reaches the hands of the manufacturers will be of interest for the smoker. The general principles underlying the culture of tobacco are the same whether it is intended for the cigar, pipe smoking or cigarette trade; but the treatment of the leaf after it is harvested differs considerably. Tobacco is a perennial plant. It is, however, usually raised each year from seed. The seedlings are usually ready for planting towards the end of May and are generally planted between the last week in May and the middle of June. The successful raising of tobacco depends on four principal factors: (1) the climate, (2) the nature of the soil, (3) the seed, and (4) on the method of culture. The _climate_ must be such as to favor rapid growth and therefore must furnish sufficient heat and moisture during the time the plant is growing. The fineness of the texture and the elasticity of the leaf depend on the climate. On the _soil_ the plant depends for its food, and for the absorption of those chemical constituents on which depend the burning qualities, the strength and the color. The physical qualities of the plant, structure and form, thickness of veins, size, shape and distribution of leaves, are derived from the _seed_. Finally, on the _method of cultivation_ (including the curing process) depends in part the final color, flavor and aroma; the type and trade value; that is to say, on successful culture and harvesting and treatment at the right time and in the best way, must depend the grower's hopes of the final value of his crop. The quantity of nicotine, essential oils, etc., on which flavor and strength depend, is regulated to the greatest extent by the time of cutting. The nature of the soil is a very important matter in the culture of tobacco, for the color of the cured tobacco leaf depends almost entirely on the soil. The light colored leaf is grown on light colored soil and the darker leaf is grown on heavy, dark soil. The best type of soil for the raising of tobacco intended for the cigar trade is a warm, deep, sandy loam which rests on permeable well-drained subsoil. The very light colored yellow tobacco cannot be raised except on light colored, porous soils; and so susceptible is this matter of the coloring of the leaf that it has been noted that the darkening of the soil by a liberal allowance of stable manure will, on a very light colored soil, change the color of the tobacco leaf from a bright yellow to a mahogany shade. Very light sandy soils or very light loams with clayey subsoils are usually chosen for these light yellow tobaccos. Although by processes subsequent to growth it is possible to darken the color of tobacco leaf, there is no known process that will make a dark leaf light in color. Moreover, the soil must be very fertile and rich in the special substances needed by the growing plant. This is all the more necessary because tobacco is a rapidly growing plant, and reaches its maturity within a few months after its planting. The rapidity of growth therefore demands a rich fertile soil well stored with plant food. Good manuring, or liberal treatment with fertilizers, is essential for keeping such soils in prime condition, because the period of growing must not be extended. Tobacco is usually planted in rows, the rows being from three to four feet apart, the usual arrangement being that the plants are generally about 12 or 18 inches apart in the row. Some planters, however, give the plants more room for many reasons, varying the distance between the plants even as much as 30 inches. Cigar leaf tobacco plants are usually placed about 14 inches apart. There are various operations necessary during the growth of the plant. The most important of these for our purpose are those known as "priming" or "thinning out" and "cutting." Priming is usually done when the plant is well advanced in growth, but the time varies with different growers and according to the species. It consists in removing the lower or imperfect leaves from the plant, or these which have in any way become injured from insect or other harmful agencies. As a general rule the larger the number of leaves there is on a plant the lower is the quality of the subsequently cured leaf. An average of about 10 leaves to each plant is what is favored by most growers, and the plants are usually thinned to this extent. Seed buds are removed also at the same time and for the same reason. If the plants are "thinned" late and when they are approaching full growth the leaves removed are not destroyed, but are cured separately and sold as inferior quality and are usually called "primings" or "planters lugs." In the Southern American States the time allowed for the growth and maturing of the plant is somewhat longer than in the eastern and more northerly states where the soil, owing to richer fertilization, favors the rapid growth. Moreover, a stronger quality of tobacco is wanted and the extra time allows the plant to effect a greater elaboration in its cells of the oils and gums, etc., which contribute particularly to strength and flavor. SHADE GROWN TOBACCO The matter of rapid growth has, however, its limitations. Too much sunlight is considered a disadvantage. Under such powerful action, nutrition is drawn quickly from the soil and the plants ripen too quickly. Under such circumstances the leaves tend to become heavy bodied and not very large in size. To defeat this tendency and produce large, thin silky leaves for the cigar trade, the grower sometimes covers his field with a tent of cheese-cloth or similar protection from the glare of the sun. The ripening process is thereby slowed and the leaves are thinner, larger and lighter in shade. This method is employed principally in Cuba, Florida and Connecticut where cigar wrapper leaves are produced, and such tobacco is known as shade-grown. Tobacco which has been planted out at the end of May or early in June is usually ready for harvesting at the end of August or beginning to middle of September. The actual time of harvesting varies a good deal according to the variety grown and the physical condition concerned in the growing of the plant. The heavier tobaccos which are intended for the export trade are usually harvested late. The most important operations connected with the culture of the tobacco leaf are the "yellowing" and "curing" processes, and, as these commence with the cutting of the plant, this latter must be done under strictly favorable conditions in order to insure proper results. The cutting must not be done while the sun is very hot, or while there is rain, or before the plant is fully matured. On the other hand, after the plant has reached its maturity, it must not be allowed to continue its growth, which along with other things would be likely to increase its nicotine content which is not desirable. The experienced tobacco grower knows well from the appearance of the plant when it is best fitted for cutting. The leaves become thick and heavy and assume a drooping appearance. They become crisp with a tendency to break easily, and a mottled, spotty look is noticeable on them. The surface becomes gummy and oily; the oily substances increases and exudates as the days pass. When these signs appear the tobacco is cut on the first day when the weather favors. It is usual in most cases to split the stalks down the middle and allow the leaves to wilt, before the stalk is entirely cut through. After sufficient wilting the leaves are gathered in piles and exposed to the action of the sunlight; or they are stuck by the stalks on poles or framework and so exposed that the sun and air have free access to all parts. This is the best and most approved practice. "Yellowing" of the leaf is very rapid after the plant is cut; it is the natural effect due to cutting off the food supply of the leaf and the consequent slow death of the vitality of the cells. It must be remembered that the leaves are large, varying in size (according to species) from 12 inches to over 2 feet in length. Such a leaf needs a large quantity of food and the sudden cutting off of the supply effects a rapid change in appearance. The leaves are allowed to hang on the scaffolds 3 to 5 days until they are fully yellowed. They are then ready for the process of "curing," which is the most important operation connected with cultivation. The "curing" and "fermentation" which the leaf undergoes are chemical actions and their success depends on the proper method of "yellowing." The leaves must not be exposed to the sun too long, because the cells would lose their vitality too rapidly and be unfitted for the new part they have to play in the curing process. The chemical changes will be explained in subsequent chapters. It is desired that the reader should understand that to ensure a successful final issue the planter has need to watch continuously and to know all the conditions. If the leaf does not "yellow" properly no amount of after care in curing will make up for this deficiency. In tobacco growing as in everything else, to ensure final high quality each step in the process must be executed with skill, care, and judgment. The yield of tobacco per acre varies from about 300 lbs. of leaf in the southern states to 1,000 lbs. or more in the eastern. 700 to 800 lbs. per acre is considered a good average crop. REFERENCES KILLEBREW AND MYRICK. _Tobacco leaf; its culture and cure, marketing and manufacturing._ Part I. New York, 1897. BILLINGS, E. R. _Tobacco; its history, varieties, culture, etc._ Chapter XIII. Hartford, Conn., 1875. LAURENT, L. _Le tabac; sa culture et sa préparation production et consummation dans les divers pays._ Paris, 1900. U. S. DEPT. OF AGRICULTURE. Farmers' Bulletins Nos. 6 and 60. _Tobacco._ U. S. DEPT. OF AGRICULTURE. Bureau of Plant Industry. Bulletin 96. _Tobacco breeding._ CHAPTER III THE WORLD'S PRODUCTION OF TOBACCO TOTAL PRODUCTION. COUNTRIES WHICH CULTIVATE TOBACCO. PRODUCTION IN THE NEW WORLD OTHER THAN IN THE UNITED STATES. THE WORLD'S PRODUCTION OF TOBACCO The world's recorded annual crop of tobacco leaf is over one million tons. The latest government figures available are those for 1912 and 1913, and show 2,696,401,379 and 2,722,190,030 lbs. respectively. Of this amount Asia and America produce each about 350,000 tons, Europe about 250,000 tons and the rest of the world the balance. The details of the production in the U. S. will be given in the next chapter. The principal Asiatic countries which produce tobacco are China, Japan, Afghanistan, India, Persia and Asia Minor. China has an immense production and consumption of tobacco, a large portion of which finds its way into western markets for the cigar and cigarette trade and is sold as "Turkish" tobacco. No figures as to production are available. British India and Afghanistan produce good tobacco, a lot of which is used in Hindustan and other Eastern countries. The Persian crop is known to be large, but there are no available records of it. In Persia most of the tobacco raised is of the species known as Nicotiana Persica. This is generally known under its trade name of Tumbach or _Tumbeki_ (or more correctly Teymbeki). This is the common Eastern name for tobacco. It is considerably exported to the countries in the neighborhood of Persia and is smoked in the pipe known as the Narghilli. In this pipe the teymbeki burns in contact with a piece of incandescent charcoal. The smoker draws the vapor through a flexible tube which passes to the bottom of a water chamber and passes above it, whence it is inhaled. The narghili is technically a water pipe. The teymbeki is very strong in nicotine, containing up to 5 or 6 per cent. Japan produces large and medium size leaf of good color but poor in quality. It is generally used for pipe and cigarette trade. The statistics of production for Asia are extremely unreliable. When we consider the teeming populations of China, India and other Eastern countries and the prevalence of the smoking habit, it is very probable that the figure of production (350,000 tons annually) is much under the mark. There is very little export of tobacco from the United States or Europe to the East. Whatever tobacco is consumed there is mostly of its own production. EUROPEAN PRODUCTION OF TOBACCO In Europe the principal tobacco producing countries are Germany, France, Austria, Russia, Italy and Turkey. Germany has nearly 40,000 acres under tobacco cultivation in Rhenish Bavaria, Baden, Hesse, and Alsace-Lorraine. The annual production is about 50 to 70 million lbs.; and in addition nearly 3 times that much is imported. German home grown leaf is medium to large in size, of fair body, heavy and with coarse veins. It is used for cigar filler and pipe, but is not suited for cigar wrappers. (See the chapter on cigars.) French tobacco is raised from Virginia seed. It is dark, coarse and heavy and is suitable for plug and snuff making only. Russia is the largest European producer. Russian tobacco leaf is very large in size and like the French is coarse, dark and heavy and is only fit for plug and snuff making. There is a lighter kind grown from Turkish seed in South Russia which is fit for cigarettes. Italy has made several attempts to cultivate good tobacco, and several different types are produced. A dark heavy leaf is grown from Virginia seed, and a type from Kentucky seed is also produced. These types are suitable to the dark, heavy fertile soils of Middle and North Italy. In the lighter sandy soil of the south, the varieties grown are raised from Turkish seed and are similar in appearance and quality to the genuine Turkish tobacco. Hungary is a heavy grower of tobacco and produces some of the best in Europe. There is a heavy dark type, of a rich brown color, medium sized leaf with small and thin veins, which is used in cigar manufacture. A small bright yellow leaf is also grown, poor in quality and aroma, which is used for pipe smoking and cigarettes. The most important foreign tobacco as regards U. S. consumers is that known as Turkish. The leaves of the Turkish tobacco are small (about 8" long), clear yellow in color, and have a special aroma, which renders them peculiarly suitable for the manufacturing of cigarettes. The principal producing centers are Macedonia, Albania, Syria, Palestine and Trebizond, that raised in Macedonia being per-haps the most celebrated. Just like the Cuban leaf, the very best grades of Turkish tobacco are not exported, but are kept for domestic consumption. _Latakia_ tobacco is produced in the northern part of Syria. This tobacco has a very small nicotine content. It is produced by a special fabrication and is in very great demand as an ingredient of pipe smoking mixtures. The District of Cavalla in the Province of Roumelia, is one of the most important tobacco centers in the Turkish Empire. There are about 75,000 acres under tobacco cultivation and the annual production is about 10,000,000 lbs. The American Tobacco Co. has a large establishment here through which it purchases its Turkish leaf, amounting to over 6 million lbs. yearly, for the manufacture of Turkish cigarettes, etc. The total importation of Turkish leaf into the United States during 1913 was: From Turkey in Europe 10,816,048 lbs. From Turkey in Asia 18,955,295 lbs. Greece and the Balkan States produce tobacco which partakes of the qualities of Hungarian and Turkish, the Grecian leaf being used a good deal as a substitute for genuine Turkish tobacco. TOBACCO PRODUCED IN THE NEW WORLD OTHER THAN IN UNITED STATES The government of Canada has given a lot of attention to experiments in connection with the growth of tobacco in the Dominion, but only with indifferent success. The leaf is raised principally from Virginian seed, but is large and coarse and is only fit for inferior plug and snuff making. Cuban Tobacco. The tobacco raised in the Island of Cuba is the most celebrated in the world for cigar making. The leaf is of a rich, brown color; narrow and small in size, varying from 8 to 18 inches in length. Its richness of flavor and the peculiar aroma are its chief characteristics. Cuba produces annually about 300,000 to 500,000 bales of tobacco varying in weight from 80 to 150 lbs. per bale, nearly one-half of which is exported to the United States alone. The importation of Cuban leaf into the United States over a series of years is shown below: _Cuban leaf imports into the U. S. (lbs.)_ 1855-1860 == 7,014,485 } 1871-1875 == 8,985,465 } Average 1886-1890 == 15,532,075 } Yearly 1896-1900 == 10,811,173 } Imports. 1901-1905 == 24,048,837 } Year 1914 == 26,617,545 } The value in 1900 was $ 8,478,251 The value in 1905 was $13,348,000 The Province of _Pinar del Rio_ produces about 70 per cent of the entire Cuban crop. In this is the District of _Vuelto Abajo_ which is celebrated the world over for the very finest cigar tobacco. The District of Habana or Havana produces about 13 per cent and Santa Clara about 13 per cent. The Cubans themselves favor the dark "Maduro" fully ripened leaves. At present a good deal of Cuban cigar leaf is grown under shade with the result that although when fully mature they are light in color, they are rich in flavor. The value of the cigar leaf imported by the U. S. from Cuba averages at present about 14 or 15 million dollars annually. Porto Rican leaf possesses many of the qualities of good Havana leaf, and like the latter is used in cigar manufacture. The annual production is about 120,000 bales. The U. S. imports from 4 to 5 million lbs. annually. Further particulars regarding Cuban and Porto Rican leaf will be given in the chapters concerning cigars. Mexico produces a tobacco, large as to leaf, dark in color, with heavy body and coarse veins. The tobacco is very strong in flavor. The best grades approach the Cuban tobacco in quality and are imported and used as substitutes for it. The U. S. importation is small. The annual production is about 34 million lbs. The best quality is produced in the neighborhood of Vera Cruz, and only a small portion is exported, principally to Cuba. Brazilian tobacco leaf is brown in color, medium in size, and medium in body. It possesses fair qualities as a cigar tobacco, for which purpose it is generally used in South America, which is its principal market. EAST INDIAN AND PHILIPPINE TOBACCO The Dutch East Indies (Sumatra and the adjacent islands) produce yearly about 180 million lbs. of tobacco, all of which is used in the cigar business. Of this the United States takes about from 30,000 to 40,000 bales of Sumatran leaf, about 5-1/2 million lbs. About 2 lbs. of this leaf wraps 1,000 cigars. The Philippine Islands produce from 50 to 100 million lbs., of tobacco annually. The crop for 1913 was 101,544,736 lbs. The imports into the United States are principally as manufactured cigars by special arrangements which will be referred to later on in the chapter on cigars. CHAPTER IV PRODUCTION OF TOBACCO IN THE UNITED STATES TOTAL PRODUCTION. AMOUNT PRODUCED BY THE DIFFERENT STATES. VARIETIES RAISED. DESCRIPTION OF THE DIFFERENT VARIETIES. PRODUCTION OF TOBACCO LEAF IN THE UNITED STATES The amount of tobacco leaf raised annually in the United States varies from 700 million lbs. to 1,000 million lbs. Thus, according to the Government Statistical Reports, the production in 1909 was 1,055,764,806 lbs., being an unusually high figure. The production in 1913 was 953,734,000 lbs. and in 1914, 1,034,679,000 lbs. The average crop may be taken as about 800 million lbs., about half of which is exported as leaf, and the other half manufactured in the U. S. into cigars, smoking and chewing tobaccos, etc., and consumed in the U. S. To produce this immense crop over one million acres of rich, fertile land is under culture, the actual government figures for 1913 being 1,216,000 acres, and for 1914, 1,224,000, and the value of the raw crop is from 80 to 100 million dollars, which works out to an average value of from 10 to 12 cents per lb. The cost of producing the best grades of cigar leaf in the Eastern States is from 8 to 10 cents per lb.; in Wisconsin from 5 to 10 cents. The price paid to the growers is from 5 to 15 cents, except for the highest grades (cigar wrapper leaf) for which special prices, up to 40 or 50 cents, may be paid. Smoking and chewing leaf of average grade fetches from 6 to 7 cents per lb. From these figures it will be seen that the agricultural industry of tobacco growing is a most important one, and it is constantly increasing both in the quantity produced and in value. About 45 of the states in the Union are engaged in tobacco culture, the principal states and the quantities produced being as follows (for 1914): Kentucky 364 million lbs. North Carolina 172 " " Virginia 114 " " Tennessee 63 " " Ohio 78 " " Wisconsin 54 " " Pennsylvania 48 " " Connecticut 35 " " South Carolina 36 " " Maryland 17 " " Indiana 12 " " Massachusetts 11 " " Other states 30 " " ---- Total 1034 " " Virginia was, until recently, the premier tobacco state. Tobacco was first raised in Virginia about 1619 when the quantity produced was about 20,000 lbs. By 1753 the records show that over 50 million lbs. were raised annually, all of which was exported. At this time and until about the period of the Civil War, Europe was dependant more than now on America for her tobacco supply, as at present a considerable part of her needs is supplied by her own production. Tobacco was not grown in Kentucky till about 1785 and a little later in Tennessee and Ohio. The cigar leaf industry of the New England States did not come into activity till about 1830. Cigar leaf was raised in Florida about the same time but was discontinued and was not resumed till fifty years later. Virginia, Maryland and Tennessee have shown a declining annual production since the Civil War. Thus Virginia in 1860 produced nearly 30 per cent of the total U. S. crop, whereas at present it produces about 12 per cent only. The causes which have contributed to the decline in tobacco culture in the Southern States are the loss of slave labor as well as the loss of capital during the war; more particularly it is due to the impoverishing of the soil without adequate fertilization. Thus with superior fertilization and intensive methods, Massachusetts and Connecticut give 1,750 lbs. to the acre, as against 870 and 580 lbs. for Kentucky and Tennessee. In Massachusetts and Connecticut the cost for fertilizer _per farm_ is $227 as against $17 and $4 respectively in Tennessee and Kentucky. Moreover, the Northern farms are smaller than the Southern. VARIETIES OF TOBACCO RAISED The varieties of tobacco raised are mainly of the native American species; but in some states (in Florida particularly) plants are raised from imported Cuban and Sumatran seed, in an endeavor to produce cigar leaf equal in quality to the leaf now imported from these places which commands a high price in the trade. The raising of cigar leaf tobacco from foreign seed began in Florida about 1902; and, although on the whole, the cultivation has been very successful, yet it cannot be said that the hoped for results have been fully realized. It was claimed for the Florida grown Sumatran leaf that in many ways it surpassed the native Sumatran leaf. Certainly the experimental samples of this Florida leaf exhibited by the U. S. at the Paris Exposition of 1900 were judged to be superior both in appearance and style and other matters. However, this superiority does not appear to have been upheld, for in the trade the native grown Sumatran leaf still holds its rank. Similarly in the case of Florida grown Cuban leaf which at the same Exposition was voted as equal to the native. The native leaf, however, whether due to the soil or not, has a finer flavor and aroma, and the best grades of native grown Cuban tobacco still hold the palm as the premier cigar tobacco of the world. The leaf raised in Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, Florida, Massachusetts, and New York State, is generally used for the cigar trade (see the chapters on cigars). Ohio and Florida (Cuban seed) leaf mostly used as cigar fillers; Connecticut and Florida (Sumatran seed), Pennsylvania and New York leaf mostly as wrapper leaf, the inferior leaves being used as fillers. Wisconsin leaf is used principally as cigar binder leaf. The total amount of cigar tobacco raised is roughly about one-fifth of the entire tobacco crop. The southern states produce the bulk of the export dark, heavy leaf. West Kentucky and Tennessee particularly, as well as Virginia, the Carolinas and Maryland, export considerable quantities. This tobacco is fire-cured. For the domestic trade, however, (pipe-smoking, chewing and cigarettes) the tobacco grown in these states is flue-cured, the principal product being of a bright yellow color, characteristic of this region. This "yellow tobacco belt" extends from the coast across to the North Carolina Mountains, through Tennessee and South Carolina, Southern Virginia, Southern Ohio, a few parts of Kentucky, some of Eastern Missouri and Arkansas. The best soils are those which are of a light sandy or sandy clay nature and they need not be deep or rich. In this region the very finest pipe-smoking tobaccos are raised. Whilst the U. S. has not been able to produce a cigar wrapper tobacco equal in quality to the Cuban or Sumatran, in pipe-smoking and cigarette tobaccos she stands without a rival. There are about 100 different varieties of tobacco grown in the U. S., many of these being approximately the same and are synonymous. Subvarieties are easily obtained by crossing. Cross-fertilization easily takes place where different strains are produced in the same locality. On this account when it is desired to keep a variety pure, care must be exerted to see that seed is collected from pure strains. On the other hand, the ease of producing new varieties gives opportunity to the various State Agricultural Experimental Stations to try out new strains for desirable qualities. The enumeration of the differences between the various varieties would be tiresome for the reader, yet it will be well for the user of tobacco to know some of these varieties, their characteristics and other particulars concerning them. These are given here: LEADING VARIETIES OF AMERICAN TOBACCOS BURLEY. The variety known as _White Burley_ has a long broad leaf, whitish in appearance when growing. The points of the leaf hang down towards the ground when growing, often even touching the ground. The leaf is thin in texture, has a mild flavor, low nicotine content and good absorbing qualities. It is one of the most popular tobaccos in the U. S. and is used for pipe-smoking and chewing tobaccos and cigarettes. It cures to a bright yellow brown color. There is a variety known as _Red Burley_ which has a thin leaf narrowing from center to top. The leaves are of a characteristic cinnamon color and are more elastic than those of _White Burley_. Burley tobacco is raised principally in Ohio, Kentucky, Virginia, Maryland, Missouri and Indiana. CONNECTICUT SEEDLEAF. Large, strong leaves, thin and elastic, silky in texture, small fibers, sweetish taste and light in color. Used in the cigar trade as fillers and wrappers and grown in New England, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and to a smaller extent in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Indiana, Illinois and Florida. CONNECTICUT BROADLEAF. A modification of the above, the leaves being broader in proportion to their length. They are up to 35 inches long and 22 inches wide. Largely used in the cigar trade as filler and wrappers. Both the Connecticut Seedleaf and Broadleaf are superior to the imported Sumatran leaf in flavor and aroma, but are inferior in elasticity and covering qualities. Grown principally in Connecticut and New York States. ORINOCO. There are 3 varieties of this name: (1) _Short Orinoco._ Broad leaf, upright growth and open habit, light colored, much ruffled. Grown in Virginia and Missouri. (2) _Big Orinoco._ Short, broad leaf. Grown in Virginia, Missouri, North Carolina, Tennessee and West Virginia. (3) _Yellow Orinoco._ Long, narrow, tapering leaf with fine texture. The sweetest variety grown. Grown in Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina, Tennessee, West Virginia and Missouri. Orinoco tobacco leaf is used largely for plug and smoking tobaccos and for the export trade. VIRGINIAN. Sun and air-cured tobacco. Leaf is medium in size. Very bright brown color. Is rich in gums and oils which makes it sweet and fragrant and gives it a pleasant taste. Hence it is a favorite chewing tobacco. PRYOR. There are several varieties under this name: (1) _Medley_ or _White Pryor_ has a very broad leaf with silky texture and tough fiber. (2) _Blue Pryor._ Large, long fine leaf and good color. (3) _Silky Pryor._ A long sharp-pointed leaf; grows thin on the stalk; very tough and pliant. (4) _Yellow Pryor._ Heavy, wide leaf, fine bright color, tough and weighs well. Pryor is used principally for the export trade and to some extent also in the home trade both for cigar and plug and smoking tobaccos. It is grown generally throughout Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri and Indiana, the White variety being extensively grown in Virginia. LITTLE DUTCH. A very favorite pipe-smoking tobacco. It has a small nicotine content (less than 1%). The leaf is small; narrow, thick and short; dark brown in color, glossy surface and sweet in taste. It is grown extensively in the Miami Valley of Ohio. SUMATRA SEED. Grown principally in Florida from imported Sumatran seed. The leaf is light in weight and color, not long compared with other seedleaf varieties. Very narrow and with fine ribs. Used in cigar trade and grown extensively also in the New England states. CUBAN SEED. This has the usual qualities of Cuban tobacco but with inferior fragrance and aroma to the native grown. Principally raised in Pennsylvania, New York, Wisconsin, Connecticut and Florida for the cigar trade. PERIQUE. A special variety of tobacco grown only in a small area of Louisiana. The leaf is medium in size, has a fine fiber with small stems. Tough, gummy and glossy. It is grown in a deep, rich soil and grows very rapidly. Its special characteristics are acquired in the curing, which is a special process peculiar to itself, and which will be described in the chapter on Manufactured Tobaccos. REFERENCES _Yearbooks of the United States Department of Agriculture._ 1914 and previous. HOAGLAND, I. G. _The Tobacco Industry._ In _Quarterly of the National Fire Protection Association_. 1907. Vol. I, Nos. 2 and 4. JACOBSTEIN, M. _The Tobacco Industry in the United States._ New York, 1907. BILLINGS, E. R. _Tobacco; its history, varieties, culture, manufacture and commerce._ Hartford Conn., 1875. CHAPTER V THE CHEMICAL COMPOSITION OF THE TOBACCO PLANT ORGANIC AND INORGANIC MATTERS CONTAINED IN TOBACCO AND THE PARTS THEY PLAY. ANALYSIS OF VARIOUS TOBACCOS. NICOTINE. THE CHEMICAL COMPOSITION OF THE TOBACCO PLANT The tobacco plant when subjected to chemical analysis is found to contain all or most of the following substances: _Mineral Bases._ Potash, Lime, Magnesia, Oxides of Iron and Manganese, Ammonia, Silica. _Mineral Acids._ Nitric, Hydrochloric, Sulphuric and Phosphoric. _Organic Base._ Nicotine. _Organic Acids._ Malic, Citric, Acetic, Oxalic, Pectic and Ulmic. _Other Organic Substances._ Nicotianin, Green and Yellow Resin, Wax and Fat, Nitrogenous Substances and Cellulose. The substances which differentiate tobacco from other plants and form its chief characteristics are Nicotianin, Nicotine and Malic Acid. The percentage in which the important substances exist in tobacco is given below: Nicotine From 1 to 9% Malic and Citric Acids From 10 to 14% Oxalic Acid From 1 to 2% Resins, Oils and Fats From 4 to 6% Pectic Acid About 5% Cellulose From 7 to 8% Albumenoids About 25% Ash From 12 to 30% When tobacco is burned, chemical changes occur; the organic and other compounds are decomposed. The volatile matters pass off in the smoke if the combustion is complete, and the mineral ash remains. In ordinary pipe or other tobacco smoking, however, the combustion is not complete and many decomposition products remain with the mineral ash. In tobacco smoke the following can usually be found: Furfurol, Marsh Gas, Hydrogen Sulphide, Hydrogen Cyanide, Organic Acids, Phenols, Empyreumatic Oils, Pyridine, Picoline Series and possibly some Nicotine. The ash left after complete combustion is important, as much of the smoking qualities of the tobacco depends on its constituents. An average sample gives the following analysis (in 100 parts): AVERAGE MINERAL CONTENTS OF TOBACCO ASH Potash About 27% Soda About 3% Lime About 40% Magnesia About 9% Sodium Chloride About 9% Sulphuric Acid About 3% Silica About 5% Lime Phosphate About 4% REMARKS ON SOME OF THE SUBSTANCES FOUND IN TOBACCO _Nicotine_ Of all the substances found in tobacco, nicotine is the most important. Nicotine in the pure state is a colorless liquid having a specific gravity of 1.027. It is an organic base having the chemical formula C{10}H{14}N{2}. It is extremely acid and burning to the taste, and is a virulent poison. It easily volatilizes; is inflammable, and is soluble in water, alcohol, ether and some fixed oils. Nicotine has the characteristic peculiar odor of tobacco. The amount of nicotine in tobacco is said to depend on the nature of the soil in which it is grown; rich, heavy soils and strong nitrogenous manuring favor the production of a large nicotine content; and light, sandy soils the opposite. Moreover the nicotine content depends on the age and development of the plant. An investigation by Chuard and Mellet showed nicotine contents of leaves: In young plants 7 weeks old contained .0324% In plants 10 weeks old contained .0447% In plants 13 weeks old contained .4989% In plants 19 weeks old contained .9202% The longer the plant is permitted to grow the larger will be its nicotine content. Schlössing has made a similar investigation and found that in the same plant the nicotine content varies from 0.79% when young to 4.32% when fully matured. Most nicotine is found in the ribs and veins. H. B. Cox (_American Druggist_ V. 24, 1894, p. 95) investigated the nicotine contents of various manufactured tobaccos. These were not "proprietary tobaccos" but samples obtained from different sources at random. His results are given here: NICOTINE CONTENTS OF DIFFERENT TOBACCOS _Nicotine_ Syrian Tobacco leaf (a) .612% American Chewing Leaf .935% Syrian Tobacco Leaf (b) 1.093% Chinese Tobacco Leaf 1.902% Turkish Coarse Cut 2.500% Golden Virginia (whole strips) 2.501% Gold Flake Virginia 2.501% Navy Cut (light) 2.530% Light Kentuckian 2.733% Navy Cut (dark) 3.64 % Best "Bird's Eye" 3.931% Cut Cavendish (a) 4.212% Best Shag (a) 4.907% Cut Cavandish (b) 4.970% Best Shag (b) 5.00 % Algerian Tobacco (a) 8.813% French Grown Tobacco 8.711% Algerian Tobacco (b) 8.90 % The average of a number of samples of Syrian tobacco showed 1 to 2% nicotine, Manila and Havana 1 to 3%, Virginia and Kentucky from 2 to 7%, and French tobaccos about 9%. Most of the nicotine in tobacco becomes volatilized and decomposed during combustion; a small part, however, may form a solution with the water which is also one of the combustion products. One of the decomposition products of nicotine is _Pyridine_ Pyridine is usually found in tobacco smoke. When condensed it is a colorless non-oily liquid and is considerably less toxic than nicotine. Reference will be made later on to the effects of nicotine and pyridine on the human system. _Potash_ Potash is important as on its amount depends the burning qualities of the tobacco. It is sometimes present in the ash to the extent of 30%, being converted into potassium carbonate by burning. Not only for free burning is the potash valuable, but also for the better volatilization of the nicotine and other substances. The more perfect the combustion, the fewer deleterious compounds are formed. Chlorides, if present, retard the burning of the tobacco, and hence a tobacco which contains a high percentage of chloride, even if it is rich in potash salts, is a poor burning tobacco and therefore faulty. While it is important that the burning should be free and the volatilization as perfect as possible, yet the smoker does not want his tobacco to burn too rapidly. To meet this some manufacturers prepare "slow burning" tobaccos generally by the addition of some chemical which checks the potash. The aroma and flavor of the tobacco depend to a great extent on the waxes, resins and oils, as well as on certain of the organic acids. REFERENCES U. S. DISPENSATORY. 1907 (19th Edition). KISSLING. _The Chemistry of Tobacco._ _Scientific American_ (Supp.) 1905, Vol. 60, No. 1560. CHUARD & MELLETT. _Variation de Nicotine dans les differents organes de la plante de Tabac._ Comp. Rend. Acad. d. Sc. (Paris) 1912. Vol. 155, p. 293. PEZZOLATO, A. _Conferenza Sulla Chimica applicato alla technologia del Tabacco._ (Rome. 1903.) WOLF, JACOB. _Der Tabak und die Tabak fabrikate._ Chapter III. Leipzig, 1912. SCHLOSSING. _Sur la production de la nicotine par la culture du Tabac._ Compt. Rend. Acad. d. Sc. (Paris), 1910. Vol. 151, p. 23. CHAPTER VI THE CURING OF TOBACCO LEAF OBJECTS OF CURING. METHODS. THE CURING OF TOBACCO LEAF The "curing" of tobacco leaf is the process of drying out which has for its object the following specific actions: (1) The expelling of the sap and superfluous moisture. (2) The completion of the "yellowing" process and the fixing of the desired color. (3) The preservation of the juices, etc., which give the characteristic flavor and aroma. (4) To give the necessary toughness and suppleness to the leaf. The first part of the curing is done by the grower in curing sheds on the farm immediately after the cutting of the crop; the final part, or the fermentation part is usually done by the leaf dealer or manufacturer in special buildings called leaf-houses. There are three methods of curing in use by the growers, i. e., sun curing, air curing, and artificial heat curing. In the case of the tobacco known as _Perique_ the curing process is more or less peculiar to itself. "Sun" and "air" curing are much slower processes than the curing by artificial heat. All cigar leaf tobacco is sun-cured, and as a general rule pipe smoking and chewing tobacco are cured by artificial heat. For the purpose of drying and curing by artificial heat, the leaf is hung up in specially constructed curing houses or sheds. It is found that after the exposure to the sun for the first process of "yellowing" tobacco leaf still contains 1 lb. of water approximately in each plant. The first part of the process of curing consists in drawing off this superfluous moisture. Dry heat is applied at a temperature of 90° F. to 120° F. for about 16 to 30 hours to effect this. A further exposure of about 48 hours at a temperature of 125° or so is necessary to complete the curing, and fix the color. The stems and stalks being thicker take a longer time and generally require 9 to 10 hours further exposure and a temperature which may range as high as 175° F. before they are fully cured, the temperature being graded hourly until the maximum necessary is reached. The process of curing varies considerably in different states. Some growers prefer to put the tobacco into the sheds immediately after cutting, and allow very little exposure in the fields. The temperature is usually kept steady at about 90° F. Again the process is different according to the quality of tobacco required. For the heavy type of leaf which is intended for the export trade, the curing in the sheds is done by an _open_ fire, the fuel being usually hardwood logs. The smoky, creosotic flavor is absorbed by the leaf, and, although this flavor is not relished by the smokers of the U. S., it is much liked in Europe. The curing in such cases may last for 4 or even 5 days. The tobacco is suspended on poles by the stalks and the fires are built on the floor immediately under them so that the carbonaceous products are easily absorbed by the open pores of the leaf. The chewing and pipe smoking tobacco, as well as cigarette tobaccos including all the bright yellow tobaccos used in the U. S. are usually cured by _Flue_ curing. In this case the heat comes from pipes which run around the curing houses and are fed from a furnace in an adjoining chamber or in a cellar. The temperature can be easily regulated. "Flue" curing is generally completed in about 4 days. "Flue" curing does not clog up the pores of the leaf which therefore remain more absorbent than in the open fire cured tobacco. This is an important matter for the manufacturers because the flue cured leaf will absorb twice as much of the flavoring sauces (which are added to certain kinds of tobacco) than tobacco leaf cured by open fires. Air exposure of 6 to 8 weeks (sometimes extended to 3 or 4 months) is necessary when tobacco is cured by exposure to the sun and air. It is claimed, however, that this method of curing preserves far better the natural flavor of the leaf; and, where flavor and aroma are highly important, this method is always preferred. Hence all cigar leaf tobaccos are cured by exposure to natural sunlight and not by artificial heat. "Air" curing as distinct from sun curing is generally done in open sheds which are thoroughly ventilated and kept as far as possible at a temperature of about 75° F. The leaf is usually allowed to cure while attached to the stalk, but Florida curers generally prefer to strip the leaf and treat it separately. The finer classes of pipe smoking tobaccos are air cured. After the curing is completed the color of the leaf is usually fixed. Generally speaking, the riper the leaf the lighter will be its color when cured. Thus the bottom leaves of the plant will be lighter in color than the upper leaves because they are more mature. (_For references see end of Chapter VIII_) CHAPTER VII THE MARKETING AND SALE OF TOBACCO LEAF METHODS OF DISPOSAL BY THE GROWER. THE WAREHOUSE SYSTEM. DIRECT PURCHASE. PRINCIPAL MARKETS IN THE UNITED STATES. PRICES. THE MARKETING AND SALE OF TOBACCO LEAF When the tobacco leaf is fully cured it is at once prepared for the market. The first step is the planters' classification of the leaf. In the case of pipe smoking and chewing tobacco the planter collects all the imperfect, injured leaves, or those inferior from any cause, and ties them in bundles. These are the planters _lugs_. All other grades are _leaf_. Slightly injured leaves are classed as _low-leaf_ or _seconds_. The others are classed _medium_, _good_, _fine_ and _selected_ leaf, according to grade, color, quality, etc. In the case of cigar leaf tobacco a similar classification is made, more care being taken owing to the very great difference in price between the better and poorer qualities. This difference may be as much as 20c in the lb., the finer and more suitable leaf being eagerly sought for. Pipe smoking and chewing tobacco leaf is usually packed in hogsheads or cases each weighing from 1,000 to 1,400 lbs. The operation of packing the leaf is called "prizing." Cigar leaf is usually put up in "hands." A "hand" consists of from 25 to 75 leaves tied together. Four hands tied together make a "carrot" and 80 carrots go to the bale, but the size of the bale varies considerably. The tobacco is then ready for the buyer. There are two systems of disposing of the planters' product: (1) direct purchase by the manufacturer or by a middleman from the grower; and (2) what is known as the warehouse system. In the southern states the warehouse system prevails. Every important tobacco section in the south has its public warehouse which is under the control and supervision of state law. Many of these warehouses are long established, that at Richmond, Va., dating as far back as 1730, and those at Louisville and Clarksville about 1839. On appointed days the planter brings his leaf to the warehouse. Here it is entered as "loose leaf" or "inspected leaf." In the case of loose leaf, the tobacco is open to the inspection of prospective buyers, who examine it and afterwards bid on it. In the case of "inspected leaf" the warehouse officials first examine the consignments, grade them and mark them according to their judgment, taking samples. The samples are open to buyers' inspection and form the basis of sale. Tobacco auctions are regularly held when the buyers assemble and bid on the "loose leaf" and "inspected" lots. Prices of the various grades are fixed and sales take place at the day's price. The principal tobacco markets are: For Kentucky and Tennessee--At Louisville, Clarksville and Cincinnati. For Maryland and Ohio--At Baltimore. For North Carolina--At Durham and Winston. For Virginia--At Richmond. The warehouse system has the great advantage that the proceedings are open and the prices are recorded and published. Hence growers can know how the market fluctuates and judge the best time for sale. This is not the case when the sale is private between the buyer and seller as is customary in the eastern and northern states. Here the price actually received by the grower is often different from that given out as paid. The price of tobacco leaf has had many vicissitudes during the past 25 years, the price often having reached so low a point as to discourage producers. Thus at Winston, N. C., the price has gradually fallen from 12.3c per lb. in 1889 to 6.3c in 1896. In the same period Burley leaf at Louisville and Cincinnati fell from 10c to 7-1/2c. Prices similarly dropped in other centers. The price of cigar leaf has latterly increased. In 1900 prices ran from 6 to 15 cents; in 1905 from 8 to 17 cents. Many conditions at home and abroad affect the price, such as bad harvests or inferior grades of produce. The tobacco trust has been very unjustly blamed by many for the falling price of tobacco. As a matter of fact and record, however, the concentration of buying power by eliminating the middleman and the small dealers has not only placed the grower in a better position by giving him a better price, as recent records show, but it has benefited the consumer also who can obtain the superior grades at a lower price. It is the middleman's profit that has been cut. Moreover, the concentrated buying power of the large interests here has been an effective force in keeping up tobacco leaf prices against the foreign buyers. It must be remembered that about half of our crop is exported. The buyers of this portion, who are principally the agents of foreign governments (in the cases where tobacco is a government monopoly as in France, Italy, etc.) assemble at the auctions and bid in the usual way. As this competition is very limited there is always an opportunity for such buyers to agree among themselves as to the limit of prices. This has been one of the important factors which has kept the prices of tobacco leaf down. The concentration of American buying power has, however, been a formidable check on it, the prices received by the growers being now fair and reasonable, and such as are the result of a healthy market, where the factors of supply and demand have their full share of effect. The government statistics show that for 1914 the prices of leaf varied from 5.5c to 20c for common to good varieties. (_For references see end of Chapter VIII_) CHAPTER VIII REHANDLING AND FERMENTATION OF TOBACCO LEAF PRIOR TO MANUFACTURE SELECTION OF LEAF. TREATMENT AND BLENDING. OBJECTS AND METHODS OF FERMENTATION. ACTION OF MICROBES. REHANDLING AND FERMENTATION OF TOBACCO LEAF PRIOR TO MANUFACTURE We have seen how the tobacco passes from the grower to the manufacturer or leaf dealer. Before it is fitted, however, for manufacture into cigars or other finished products the leaf must go through many processes, the most important of which is fermentation. These processes, which are usually known as rehandling, are carried out in special buildings which are called leaf houses and stemmeries. The procedures in different leaf houses may vary somewhat, but the general principles and objects in view are the same in all. Moreover, the treatment is different, according to the ulterior disposition of the leaf, i. e. whether intended for cigars, pipe smoking or other product. The general treatment as carried out in large establishments is about as follows: The leaf as soon as it is received whether in casks, cases, bales, or otherwise is opened up and inspected in the casing room. Large concerns which manufacture or deal in cigar and other kinds of leaf, sort out the different kinds suitable for each class of product, i. e. wrappers, fillers, binders, cigarette leaf, plug leaf, etc. These are distributed to either special houses or departments. The tobacco leaf when first received is usually dry and brittle. The bundles are carefully opened up and the leaves loosened and spread out on large trucks where they are sprayed with water. When the leaf has soaked the water and is pliable it undergoes a sorting which is done by selecting leaves from different cases or even bundles of leaves and in a general way arranging them so that each truckfull represents a blend of the different kinds of leaf which are suitable for the purpose in view. These sorted packages are then roughly fastened together and after being again sprinkled thoroughly are sent to the "sweating" room to undergo fermentation which may last several weeks. The temperature of this room must be carefully regulated and is usually kept at about 90° F. The selection and blending of the different kinds of leaf is most important. It requires accurate and expert knowledge in choosing leaves and kinds possessing different strengths and other qualities and in combining them in such proportions that the final effect of the blend gives just what is required. It is particularly in this expert treatment of the leaf before manufacture that the greatest advance has been made in the tobacco industry. The smoker has the advantage and satisfaction of knowing that not only does he get the benefit of improved scientific knowledge and sanitary conditions by which anything that might be harmful or undesirable is removed, but that handling the leaf in large quantities effects great economics and procures for him the benefit of choicest selected grades at a reduced cost. It may be said here incidentally that leaves of the very best tobaccos which are defective merely in size, or color, etc., are put through exactly the same processes as the choicer quality leaves, and are used in the manufacture of the popular priced machine-made "little cigars" and "cheroots." It will be necessary now to digress for a short time and consider what happens during the process of fermentation. FERMENTATION OF TOBACCO The fermenting of tobacco leaf has for its principal objects, (1) the removal of acrid matters, (2) the fixing of the color, and (3) the production of flavor. Fermentation can only take place under suitable conditions of heat and moisture, and is essentially a chemical process during which certain organic compounds stored in the plant are split up and others formed. A certain amount of fermentation takes place in the curing houses during the "yellowing" of the leaf after it has been harvested, but as we have seen the main process of fermentation does not occur until it is "rehandled" by the manufacturers. The general opinion held at present as the result of investigation is that the transformations which are effected in the leaf are purely the result of chemical processes. As the plant slowly dies and decomposes special ferments are produced. These ferments set up an oxidization process which splits up the complex organic compounds which still exist in the leaf cells. The starch in the plant is changed into sugar which is slowly consumed. There is a decrease in the fats and gummy substances, also in nicotine and nitrogenous compounds, and there is a formation of certain organic acids such as malic, citric and oxalic which are essential in the production of flavor. Briefly it may be said that the process is an attempt by the plant to prolong its existence by feeding on its own substance, by drawing on its own reserves and on its own structure for the food which its cells no longer receive through the natural growing process. When the struggle is over the "fermentation" is complete. The necessity for maturing tobacco has long been known but the exact nature of the changes that take place during the process were not understood. Since the discoveries of Louis Pasteur regarding the part played by bacteria in general fermentative processes it has been generally claimed by bacteriologists that the changes wrought in the leaf and the production of flavor are solely the work of bacteria. Although this view has not been proved it has never been fully disproved, and there appears to be no doubt that the microbes known to exist in the leaf during the fermentation process play an important part in the process. Fermentation can only take place as stated under suitable conditions of heat and moisture and these are the conditions which favor the development of microbes and enable them to work. The results obtained are probably partially due to chemical action and partly to bacterial action, the two being complementary to each other. In 1899 Suchsland, a German scientist, startled the tobacco world by asserting that the flavor of tobacco was in no way due to the effects of the soil and climate where it was grown, but was solely due to microbic action, and that the specific flavor and aroma of any given tobacco could be artificially produced by the cultivation of selected bacteria and allowing the tobacco to cure and ferment under their action. He conducted a series of experimental investigations in which he searched for and isolated the specific microbes found in the best West Indian tobacco. From these he made artificial cultures and introduced them into heaps of inferior, coarse German tobacco which was undergoing curing. His results were such that the smoking quality of the leaf was entirely changed. It could scarcely be distinguished from the best Cuban tobacco and experts and connoisseurs failed to identify the product as German tobacco. A company was formed to exploit the new ideas commercially, but it does not appear to have met with success. Other investigations failed to obtain Suchsland's results and extensive investigation in the Agricultural Experimental Station in the United States have not up to now produced any results confirmatory of the theory. We can now proceed to follow the course of the tobacco in its peregrinations through the leaf house. On their return from the first fermentation the bundles go to the picking department. Leaves which are damaged or unsuitable in any way are here picked out and put aside to be used in the cheaper grades. The leaves are then subjected to a thorough cleaning to remove particles of sand, clay, etc., packed tightly in bundles and returned to the sweating department to undergo further fermentation and to allow for a thorough interchange of the aroma of the different blends. In due course the bundles pass to the stemming department for the removal of the midribs which usually form nearly one-third of the entire weight. The resulting half leaves are then arranged in piles of 50, each pile forming a "book." From the stemming department the books pass to the drying room where any superfluous moisture is removed by hot air currents. From the drying room the books pass to the ordering room where they undergo inspection for color, size, etc., and subjected to further treatment if necessary. Here they are finally packed in cases and stored for several months to allow perfect and uniform blending after which they are ready for shipment to the factory. Filler leaf for the finest cigars may stand in these cases for two or three years. Leaf which is intended for chewing or pipe smoking is not subjected to so great an elaboration of processes as cigar leaf, as the matters of uniformity of color, and delicacy as well as individuality of aroma are not of such great importance. Usually such tobacco leaf is fermented in bulk, and the removal of the stems is done before the principal fermentation. After the preliminary selection of varieties, sorting, stemming and cleaning, the leaf is dipped into large vats containing flavors; and after drying are subjected to steaming. They are then packed away in bulk in the sweating department where they slowly ferment until required for use. These "bulks" or stacks may contain many tons of leaf. They require constant turning over, etc. Indeed it may be said that every step in these processes requires constant care. Temperature, moisture, length of exposure, etc., must all be carefully seen to. Otherwise the tobacco will spoil. In the case of tobacco leaf intended for export trade rehandling consists mainly of stemming and removal of moisture. This is done before shipment in order to reduce the weight as customs duty is levied in accordance with the weight of the imported packages in the countries importing. REFERENCES U. S. DEPART. OF AGRIC. _Farmers' Bulletins_ 6 and 60. LAUREUT, L. _Le Tabac, sa culture et sa preparation, production et consommation._ Paris, 1900. BOUANT, E. _Le Tabac; culture et industrie._ Paris, 1901. BOEKHOUT UND DE VRIES. _Uber Tabacfermentation._ "Centralbl. f. Bakter," 1909. 2 Abteil. Vol. 24, p. 496. LOEW, O. _Sind Bakterien die Ursache der Tabakfermentation?_ "Centralbl. f. Bakter," 1909. Vol. 6, p. 108. KILLEBREW AND MYRICK. _Tobacco Leaf._ Part I. New York, 1897. SUCHSLAND, E. _Bobachtungen über die Selbsterwärmung des fermentierenden Tabaks._ In "Festschrift 200-Jahr Jubel. d. Verein. Friedrichs Universit." Halle-Wittenberg, 1894. WOLF, JAKOB. _Der Tabak und die Tabakfabrikate._ Chapter IV. Leipzig, 1912. HOAGLAND, J. G. _The Tobacco Industry._ In _Quarterly of the Nat. Fire Protec. Assn._, 1907. Vol. 1, Nos. 2 and 4. JACOBSTEIN, M. _The Tobacco Industry in the U. S._ Chapter II. New York, 1907. CHAPTER IX MANUFACTURED PRODUCTS OF TOBACCO IN THE UNITED STATES STATISTICS OF PRODUCTION AND CONSUMPTION. AMOUNT OF CAPITAL INVESTED, ETC. MANUFACTURED PRODUCTS OF TOBACCO. GENERAL REMARKS The importance and magnitude of the tobacco manufacturing industry in the United States will be best understood from a consideration of the following statistics taken from the latest available government records: (_For all Manufactured Products_) Cost of materials used (1905)==$126,000,000 (1909)== 177,000,000 Value of the product (1905)== 331,000,000 (1909)== 417,000,000 No. of establishments (1905)== 16,828 (1909)== 15,822 No. of persons employed, more than one-third being women (1905)== 160,000 (1909)== 197,000 The figures are given in round numbers. The total capital invested in this industry is between $300,000,000 and $400,000,000. There are more than one and a quarter millions acres in the U. S. under cultivation of tobacco which yields a crop at present approximating to 1,000 million lbs. of leaf annually. The industry shows an absolutely increasing condition in every particular at each census. During the past 45 years the value of the product has increased more than $300,000,000. In addition to the trade in manufacturing in the U. S. there is the export trade principally in unmanufactured leaf. This amounts at present to about $54,000,000 annually. The price of export leaf has been continuously increasing despite of the fact that the production of leaf abroad is increasing. Thus in 1886 the average export price of leaf from the U. S. was 8-1/2c per lb. In 1914 it was more than 12c. The following statement shows at a glance the marvelous increase in the tobacco industry: _Comparative Statement of Manufactured Tobacco in the U. S. (all products)_ Capital No. of persons Value of invested. employed. product. Year 1880 $ 39,000,000 86,000 $126,000,000 Year 1890 90,000,000 117,000 195,000,000 Year 1900 111,000,000 142,000 264,000,000 Year 1905 324,000,000 159,000 330,000,000 Year 1909 197,000 417,000,000 In addition to the number of persons employed in manufacturing we must take into account those employed (as well as the capital invested) in the agricultural and distributing ends. The export manufacturing trade is not important, being only valued at about 3 million dollars annually. The value of the home manufactured products which in 1905 was shown at $330,000,000 is distributed as follows. Cigars $198,000,000 Cigarettes 16,000,000 Chewing and smoking tobaccos 109,000,000 Snuff 6,000,000 Other products 1,000,000 ------------ Total $330,000,000 For the increase in the present value of the product these figures would be proportionately increased. In the year 1913 the United States exported about 350 million lbs. of unmanufactured tobacco leaf, and in 1914, 449 million lbs. This was distributed as follows: To Great Britain and Ireland 174 million lbs. To Canada 17 " " To France 55 " " To Germany 32 " " To Italy 45 " " To Netherlands 28 " " To Spain 17 " " To Japan 16 " " To China 11 " " To Belgium 11 " " To Africa, Australia, etc. 43 " " ---- Total 449 " " The largest export manufacturing trade was to Asia, the cigarettes exported there having a value of 2-1/2 million dollars. The consumption of manufacturing products of tobacco in the U. S. has increased continuously since 1863 when it was 1.6 lbs. per head to the present time when it is 5-1/2 lbs. per head of the total population. This works out at about 16 lbs. per head for each male over 16 years. The consumption of tobacco in the U. S. is higher than in any other country and has increased more rapidly. For the past 40 years the consumption per head in U. S. has increased 240%; in England 56%; in France 24%; in Germany 23%. From this fact different deductions might be made. It may be that the Americans smoke more because they are fonder of tobacco than Europeans; or because they get better and cheaper tobacco; or because they can better afford to buy tobacco. The greatest percentage of increase in the United States is in the consumption of cigars. The manufactured products are classed as (1) cigars, (2) pipe smoking and chewing tobaccos, (3) cigarettes, (4) snuff. To each of these separate chapters will be devoted. (_For references see Chapter XV_) CHAPTER X CIGARS. HISTORICAL AND GENERAL FACTS HISTORY. STATISTICAL INFORMATION REGARDING THE CIGAR BUSINESS IN THE UNITED STATES. CIGARS. HISTORICAL AND GENERAL FACTS When the Spaniards landed for the first time on American soil they found the natives smoking the rolled-up tobacco leaves, that is a cigar. For a cigar is nothing more, four centuries having made little change in the Cuban cigar. The word _cigar_ is most probably derived from the Spanish word _cigarer_--to roll. Other derivations are given, but this seems etymologically the correct one; and we will rest content with it. In Spanish America to the present day the custom of smoking tobacco in the rolled form, either as cigars or cigarettes, prevails, rather than the custom of smoking in pipes which was the method of the northern aborigines from whom the English colonists adopted it. Smoking was introduced into Spain in the cigar form and into England in the pipe form. Cigars, however, at the present time, both in North and South America, form the principal item in the tobacco account of the people; we shall therefore enter somewhat fully into matters concerning their manufacture, etc. Although, as stated, it is in the cigar form that smoking was introduced into Spain, it was not till about 1790 that cigars were used generally in Europe. A factory for the manufacture of cigars was established at Hamburg in 1796. The custom did not spread rapidly and did not reach any considerable proportion in England till about 1830 when the high duties were considerably reduced. Cigar making has always been a staple industry in Cuba. It was there when the Europeans landed and it is there still. Its record is unbroken. There was always a greater or lesser exportation to Europe and elsewhere. THE CIGAR BUSINESS OF THE U. S. Of the various manufactured products of tobacco leaf, the cigar trade is the most important in the U. S., its value being greater than that of all other tobacco products combined. The magnitude of this branch of the tobacco business may be gauged when we state that at the present time there are made annually in the U. S. cigars of all kinds to the amount of about 8-1/2 billions. The Census Bureau Report for 1912 shows that for that year the number of full-sized cigars made and on which tax was paid was in round numbers 7,500,000,000, and of "little cigars," that is under the regular size, about 1,000,000,000. These figures are certainly stupendous, particularly when we consider that, in addition, at least several hundred more were imported and that only about 2,000,000 were exported. Uncle Sam evidently likes to smoke cigars. To make these cigars requires a consumption of 136 million lbs. of cigar leaf. Nearly 50 million lbs. of this is imported at a gross cost (exclusive of duties) of about 35 million dollars, the rest of the leaf is home grown. The principal imports are from Cuba. In 1912 we imported cigar leaf from Cuba in amount nearly 23 million lbs. and in 1913 this increased to over 27 million lbs. valued at more than 16 million dollars. The imports of East Indian (Sumatran) leaf varies from 6 to 8 million lbs. and costs from 7 to 8 million dollars. Although the amount of imported leaf used in cigar making shows a steady increase, being now more than 50% greater than a decade ago, yet the proportion of foreign leaf to home-grown leaf in the whole manufacture shows a steady decrease. This speaks well for the improving quality of American grown leaf. There are in the United States about 26,000 cigar factories, both large and small. The large number of establishments is due to the fact that cigar making is still to a large extent a hand-making industry. About 135,000 persons are directly employed in the manufacture, nearly half of whom are women. The capital engaged in the business is reported as 150 millions and the value of the product 200 million dollars annually. The actual consumer pays about 300 million dollars for the cigars smoked, the difference between the cost of the product and the latter figure being the expense and profit of the retail handlers. The enormous growth of the cigar trade is seen when it is compared with 1860. In that year the annual value of this product was only 9 million dollars. The two states of New York and Pennsylvania are the centers of cigar manufacture. Between them they make nearly half of the entire product, Pennsylvania leading with about two thousand million cigars annually. Florida makes about 300 million. The price paid by the consumer works out to an average of about 4c for each cigar. CHAPTER XI CIGAR MAKING HAND-MADE CIGARS. MACHINE-MADE CIGARS. CLASSIFICATION OF CIGARS. TERMS USED IN THE CIGAR TRADE. CIGAR MAKING It was inevitable that modern progress should invade and revolutionize the old and slow methods of cigar making; and so it has. Smoking is a sentimental occupation and lends itself easily to romantic associations. A good deal of romance and sentiment still hangs around the hand-made cigar and cigarette. In an up-to-date cigar factory, however, the whir of machinery and the precise, regular movements of automatic contrivances give little scope for sentiment. Up to 1870 cigars were hand-made. All that was necessary was an inexpensive board, a cutting knife, and a block of wood with a stationary knife, known as a "tuck," for measuring and cutting the finished cigar. About the time stated the "mold" was introduced. The mold is a wooden block about 18" x 6" x 3", a tool which facilitates the shaping of the "bunch" or filler part of the cigar and presses it into shape. This mold is now used in most "hand-made" cigar factories where the labor is subdivided into "bunch-makers" and "rollers," the latter putting on the binder and wrapper and finishing the cigar. It is the introduction of practically automatic machinery, however, which is revolutionizing the cigar-making business, and slowly but surely driving the "hand-made" cigar into the position occupied by the "hand-made" cigarette. And the writer cannot see why this should not be so. As it has been said, there is much sentiment about hand-made cigars. But common sense seems to be on the side of the machine. We quite understand the difficulty of killing old prejudices and time honored customs; but it is difficult to understand how the flavor or quality of a cigar filler can be different whether it is pressed into the shape by a machine or by the hand of a workman; or what the precise improvement is when a wrapper leaf is put on and licked by a workman rather than by a clean machine under perfect sanitary conditions. However, sentiment still persists. Imaginary, or perhaps real, charms are ascribed to the hand-made goods and the smoker is willing and even wishful to pay a higher price for his fancy. The result is that the small factory is still predominant. It depends more on labor than on capital. But the large factories have an immense production. The condition will be best shown by stating that in less than 1 per cent of the cigar making establishments of the U. S. nearly 50 per cent of the entire output is made, or, putting it another way, nearly three-fourths of all the licensed cigar factories produced less than one-tenth of the product. Of the 26,000 establishments in the U. S. only in 2 is the annual output more than 50 million and in 27 the output runs from 25 to 50 million. Pennsylvania establishments, principally in Philadelphia, produce 28% of the entire U. S. cigar output; New York State, principally New York City, comes next with about 20%; and Ohio, principally Cincinnati, third with about 8%. For machine-made goods the principal machines used are the bunch rollers and the suction table. The former rolls the bunch of filler leaves and presses them into shape. The suction table is used for wrapping the cigar. The operator places the wrapper leaf on a perforated plate. By pressing a foot lever a vacuum is created beneath this plate which holds the leaf smooth and snug against the table. The perforated plate is exactly the form which the wrapper must be to properly fit the cigar. It is easily cut around and trimmed to shape. The bunch from the bunch roller is then quickly encased in the wrapper. Human labor is necessary only to feed the machines and to spread the wrappers. 25,000 bunches can easily be wrapped in a week at a cost of $6 to $9 for labor (principally female) and the upkeep of the machine. This in labor alone would formerly cost as much as $75.00. In the smaller "hand-made" factories, the method of procedure is about as follows: The leaf on receipt is opened and moistened. The "filler" leaf is separated from the wrapper. The filler leaf is made up into "books," a "book" being a bunch of leaves suitable for one cigar. The loose books are then allowed to ferment for a week or so when they are ready for use. The bunchmaker selects and arranges his leaves from each book, selects his binder and rolls the whole into cigar form. If a mold is used he puts the bunch in a matrix of the mold and fastens down the cover until the leaves are pressed into shape. They then go to the wrapper man and are wrapped either by machine or by hand, according to the class of goods. The wrapping is begun at the lighting end and finished at the point which is called the head. After trimming to gauge, the cigar is ready for inspection and classification according to color, etc., and for banding. Cigars according to their manufacture are classed for trade purposes in various ways. The trade nomenclature embraces the following descriptions: Cigars, little cigars, all-tobacco cigars, stogies and cheroots. Cigars proper have many subdivisions: (1) IMPORTED CIGARS. This term is usually confined to cigars made in Cuba, and does not include Porto Rican or Philippines. (2) PORTO RICO CIGARS. } } Used for cigars made in those places. (3) PHILIPPINE CIGARS. } (4) CLEAR HAVANAS. This term denotes a cigar made by hand in the U. S. of Cuban tobacco exclusively and in the same style as in Cuba. (5) SEED AND HAVANA. Up to about 50 years ago there were no clear Havanas made in the U. S., the best produced being a combination of Havana leaf and leaf grown in the states from imported Havana seed. Hence the term which ordinarily means an American made cigar, the filler being wholly or partly of Cuban tobacco and the wrapper, a domestic or Sumatran leaf. (6) DOMESTIC CIGARS. This term is used for cigars made in the U. S. in contra-distinction to imported cigars. (7) NICKEL GOODS. Ordinary 5c cigars made either entirely, of domestic tobacco or with a Sumatran wrapper, and usually made partly or wholly by machine. It also usually includes "segundos" or "seconds," i. e., cigars of a better type made to sell at higher prices but which on account of some defect are rejected on inspection. Sometimes clear Havanas made of scrap filler and inferior wrapper are included. These cigars have a vast variety of designations and make up the general stock of most cigar stores. The cost of production does not usually exceed $20.00 per thousand and they sell to dealers at from $25.00 to $30.00. (8) STOGIES, TOBIES, ETC. CHEROOTS. Cigar shaped rolls of cheap domestic tobacco made quickly by machine, and of various sizes. Cheroots are open at both ends. The filler of stogies is usually a western grown leaf of full size, but rough quality. They are manufactured principally in Louisville, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Wheeling, etc. One of the large tobacco companies operates about 25 large cigar factories in various centers of the U. S. Here are made all classes of domestic cigars, but all are made under the same conditions of sanitation, economic handling and strict supervision. The leaf is prepared, selected, fermented, blended, etc., in the company's own special leaf houses and is despatched to the various factories as needed. All the better class of domestic cigars are hand-made, machinery being used in making the cheaper grades. There are special factories for the making of "little cigars," of which a vast number are made on account of their popularity. These include the package goods and those put up in cardboard boxes of which such brands as "Virginia Cheroots" and "Royal Bengals" are types. By the terms "little cigar" the trade recognizes all cigars under the regular standard size and which weigh less than 3 pounds per thousand. In some "little cigar" factories these little cigars are not made from inferior leaf. They are made usually from the small leaves of the tobacco intended for higher priced goods, but which on account of faulty size cannot be used. The leaf is, however, cured and prepared in exactly the same way. In addition the "scrap" or waste portions of the high priced leaf is used for fillers for little cigars. The little cigars of this type are usually of first-rate quality and on account of their small cost give excellent value to the smoker. CIGARS. MISCELLANEOUS There are a good many terms used in the cigar trade to denote color, size, quality, etc., which smokers should know the meaning of. Most of these terms are Spanish, because the cigar trade was for a long time confined to Cuba. _Terms used to denote the quality of cigar leaf_ DESECHO. The finest quality; the top leaves of plant; best because they have received most sunshine and dew. DESECHITO. Good leaves but inferior to desecho. LIBRA. Good leaves but small in size; the smaller top and bottom leaves. INJURIADO. Injured leaves; root leaves soil stained and injured by insects. _Terms used to denote color_ Note: The color term refers to the wrapper only. Many smokers judge the mildness or strength of a cigar by its outside color. This is a fallacy. The wrapper constitutes only about 2 per cent of the cigar weight. Moreover color is no criterion of strength. The darkest cigar may be and usually is very mild. The color is due (1) to the soil, (2) to the age of the plant when cut, and (3) to the length of time of curing and fermentation. As a general rule the lighter the color the more inferior and immature is the tobacco. Cigar smokers should remember this. CLARO or CLARA. Very light colored. The lightest shade known in selected leaves. COLORADO. Red; medium in color. COLORADO CLARA. Light Brown. COLORADO MADURO. Dark Brown. MADURO. Ripe; very dark, almost black in color. _Terms used to denote size and shape_ CONCHAS. Shell; cigars so marked are 4-1/4" long. CONCHA FINA. A first quality Concha. CONCHA ESPECIAL. Finely finished and somewhat larger than a Concha. LONDRES. London. Specially made for the London market and on account of its shape and length. REGALIAS. A cigar of a finer grade of tobacco than is used in Londres or Conchas. DAMAS. Ladies; small cigar about 3" long. PANATELAS. A long thin cigar that has been heavily pressed. NON PLUS ULTRA. A large handsome cigar made from the finest tobacco. ESCEPCIONALES. Exceptionally large sized cigar. OPERA. A small after-dinner cigar about 3-1/4" long. PRINCESSES. Like the Opera, but thinner. COQUETTAS. Flirt; 3-1/2" long. BREVAS. A short, thick cigar. NOBLESSE. The largest and most expensive cigars. In addition to the above there is a multitude of trade names, such as Club House, Hoffman House, Rothschilds, Invincibles, Perfectos, etc., etc. Some of these terms merely denote particular brands put out by certain makers and to distinguish their products. The Spanish terms refer to the cigar itself and not to the maker. They may be used by any maker, and no longer refer to any standard of excellence. (_See references end of Chapter XV_) CHAPTER XII CIGARS AND THEIR QUALITIES QUALITIES OF CIGARS AND CIGAR LEAF. IMPORTED CIGARS. HAVANAS. DOMESTIC CIGARS. CIGARS AND THEIR QUALITIES A cigar consists essentially of three distinct parts: the body or inner part called the _filler_; the covering of the filler which is called the _binder_; and the outside finishing cover which is called the _wrapper_. Cuban cigars, however, consist of filler and wrapper only. Except in the case of cigars made in Cuba the wrapper leaf is usually of a different class of tobacco from the rest of the cigar, as the qualities to be fulfilled by each part is different. The qualities required in a cigar must be viewed both from the smokers' and the manufacturers' standpoints and the leaf must be such as to conform to these qualities. Thus the smoker is concerned with the burning quality, the taste, flavor, aroma, color, general appearance and strength of the cigar. The manufacturer in addition to seeking leaf that will answer the smokers' requirements also has an eye to economy and requires the leaf to have qualities regarding size, weight, texture, etc. Therefore, in the best cigar leaf the following qualities are more or less essential: (1) good color, (2) fair body, (3) a continuous pleasant aroma, (4) fine texture combined with a certain toughness, (5) small ribs and veins, (6) good combustion so that it will hold fire for 4 or five minutes. The burning must be free and even with a white or whitish-brown ash which remains intact until cigar is three-fourths smoked, (7) good size of leaf, (8) must be elastic and souple, must not be brittle, (9) it must be free from spots and light in weight. Some of these qualities are essential in filler leaf; some in wrapper leaf. Thus the _color_ of filler leaf does not matter; neither does the aroma of the wrapper the essential qualities of which are color, lightness and elasticity. The cigars consumed in the U. S. are either (a) Imported or (b) Home Manufactured. (_a_) IMPORTED CIGARS The most important of the imported cigars are those that come from Cuba, Porto Rico and the Philippines. Up to the time of the Civil War cigars were imported principally from Germany and Cuba and the value was about 4-1/2 million dollars annually. High import duties have, however, altered this and the number of imported cigars is nearly 90 per cent less than formerly. The value of the import has not, however, fallen so much, that is to say only the higher grades of cigars are imported. The value of cigars now imported does not exceed 3 million dollars annually and they are principally Cuban. CUBAN, OR SO-CALLED HAVANA, CIGARS As the strictest laws are enforced in Cuba against the importation of tobacco, it follows that all genuine so-called Havana cigars are made of Cuban tobacco. The Havana Tobacco Co. controls about 260,000 acres of the best Cuban tobacco land and has 25 factories in the City of Havana. Here Havana cigars are made in all grades from those which can be bought at 2 for 25c to those which cost $2.00 each. The high priced are very limited in quality, being made from tobacco grown in specially favored districts. The Province of Pinar del Rio produces 70 per cent of the whole Cuban crop, and includes the celebrated District of Vuelta Abajo in which the finest cigar tobacco in the world is grown; the Provinces of Havana and Santa Clara each produces about 13 per cent of the Cuban crop. Havana Partidio leaf is of very fine quality and is used principally as wrappers of clear Havanas. Havana Remedios leaf comes from Santa Clara, has a high flavor, rather heavy body and is used mostly for fillers. The very finest Havana cigars never leave Cuba, for the merchant keeps them for his own use. He is a smoker before a trader. The crop of the very best Vuelta Abajo tobacco is so small that not more than about 30,000 cigars can be made from it. These are kept for private purchasers and none go on the market. The finest Havanas are of an even tint of rich dark brown, free from all stains and spots, burning freely to a white or whitish-brown ash, and holding fire for 4 or 5 minutes. Altogether the District of Vuelta Abajo produces about one-quarter million bales of leaf annually and about one-tenth of this is high class and produces up to 20 dollars per lb. on the spot. As stated previously, Cuban cigars have no binder. They consist of filler and wrapper only and are all hand-made. The unique position which these cigars have held for so long is due not only to perfect curing and blending of the leaf, but also to the superior skill of the Cuban workmen who are the most expert cigarmakers and blenders in the world, and who in the best factories are allowed to take all the time they need in making the cigar. Some of these "Tabacqueros" have been making the same brand of cigar for 20 years or longer. Of the total annual output of Cuban made cigars, England takes about 40 per cent, the U. S. about 25 per cent and Germany 13 per cent. In 1913, the U. S. imported 659,358 lbs. of cigars and cheroots from Cuba valued for $3,999,410. PORTO RICO CIGARS From Porto Rico the U. S. ships about 125 million cigars annually. PHILIPPINE CIGARS The laws in force between the U. S. and the Philippine Islands, governing the tariff, provide for the importation annually from the Philippines to the U. S. free of import duties, of cigar wrapper leaf and filler leaf mixed or packed with more than 15 per cent of wrapper leaf, not in excess of 300,000 lbs.; of filler leaf alone not in excess of 1,000,000 lbs.; and manufactured cigars in number not exceeding 150,000,000. The shipping must be direct. As the Philippine leaf is excellent and labor there is cheap, the U. S. smoker is thus enabled to get a very good smoke at a small cost. The full number of cigars allowed at least is imported. In 1913 the importation of Philippine cigars and cheroots to the U. S. was 1,641,832 lbs. valued at $2,296,823. HOME MANUFACTURED CIGARS For the home manufactured cigar trade the leaf used is either imported or home grown. Imported cigar leaf comes principally from Cuba, Dutch East Indies (Sumatra, Java, etc.), Porto Rico, Mexico, Brazil, and the Philippines. Imported Cuban leaf is used both as fillers and wrappers. The U. S. as already stated imports about 26 million lbs. annually. The leaf varies in length from 8" to 18"; is a rich brown color, and its principal characteristic is its fine flavor and aroma, which is unequalled by any other tobacco in the world. The Sumatran leaf is perhaps more important in the U. S. cigar trade than the Cuban leaf. It is used exclusively as wrappers, on account of its fine light brown color, its elastic texture and light weight. The genuine imported leaf is much less in weight than that grown from Sumatran seed in Florida. About 2 lbs. of imported Sumatran leaf will wrap 1,000 cigars. Its length is usually from 14 to 20 inches and the U. S. imports annually about 7 million lbs., valued at about 5 million dollars. The use of Sumatran leaf as a wrapper for home-made cigars has increased remarkably in the last quarter century. In the quinquennium ending 1885 the number of such cigars was 34 millions. In the last quinquennium the number exceeded 2,000 millions. The Sumatran leaf has little aroma or flavor and its value is for appearance only. The average prices paid by the United States for imported cigar leaf in 1914 was: for leaf suitable for cigar making, 127c per lb.; for "other leaf," 50.44c per lb. OTHER IMPORTED CIGAR LEAF Since the introduction of tax-free manufactured cigars from the Philippines the importation of leaf has declined. Mexican leaf is used as a substitute for Cuban, to which it is inferior. The imports of cigar leaf tobacco from Porto Rico and Brazil are relatively unimportant. CIGAR LEAF TOBACCO GROWN IN THE U. S. The home grown tobacco leaf used in the cigar manufacturing trade of the U. S. is grown principally in the states of Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, Florida, Georgia, and Texas. The Connecticut leaf is used for wrappers and binders. The Ohio and Pennsylvania leaf almost exclusively for fillers. Wisconsin produces binder leaf particularly. The leaf grown elsewhere is used mostly as wrappers. It is usual, however, to use the imported and Sumatran leaf as wrappers for all high class home-made cigars. The finest American grown wrapper leaf is raised in Connecticut. The best known brands are known as Connecticut Seedleaf and Connecticut Broadleaf, both varieties raised originally from imported Havana seed. The leaf is destitute of thick fibers and has a fine texture. They run from 14" to 26" in length, giving good wrapping capacity. The Pennsylvania leaf is also classed as Seed and Broadleaf. It is about the same size as the Connecticut, but does not equal it in quality. The principal varieties in Ohio are the Gebhardt, Zimmer, Spanish, and Little Dutch. These do not usually exceed 20" in length. Florida cigar leaf is usually small, running from 10" to 14" in length. (_For references see Chapter XV_) CHAPTER XIII PIPE SMOKING AND CHEWING TOBACCOS QUALITIES REQUIRED. DESCRIPTION OF KINDS. PERIQUE TOBACCO. STATISTICS. PIPE SMOKING AND CHEWING TOBACCOS For pipe smoking mixtures the tobacco leaf used is of various kinds. Preferred strains of leaf from Virginia, North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Maryland, and East Ohio, to which is added sometimes Turkish, Latakia, Perique, and a little Havana. The blend is made while the tobacco is in leaf form, portions of the desired kinds being assembled in accordance with a formula followed by the manufacturer. The leaf is then put through the required mechanical processes. The qualities necessary in pipe smoking tobaccos are that it must burn evenly, slowly, smoothly and thoroughly; it must have an agreeable aroma; it must not cause a burning or acrid sensation in the mouth when smoked; it is desirable that its nicotine contents should be low. Appearance is not of any consequence, but the manufacturer looks for leaf that, in addition to the above qualities, is free from gumminess as this interferes with granulation and cutting; also that the leaf may be a good absorbing kind in order that it may imbibe the juices with which this class of manufactured tobacco is treated both for chewing and pipe smoking. As the taste of smokers with regard to the flavor and aroma of pipe tobacco varies considerably, some desiring a strong, others a mild or light tobacco, this must be taken into account by the manufacturer and the blends graded accordingly. Pipe smoking tobaccos are distinguished according to the different mechanical processes used in their production. Thus there are (1) _Granulated_, (2) _Plug-cut_, (3) _Long-cut_, (4) _Fine-cut_, etc. In former days it was customary for smokers to buy their tobacco in the roll or twist and cut and manipulate it themselves. This custom has, however, passed away almost entirely in the U. S. It still survives to a large extent in Europe where smokers prefer their tobacco moist. In the U. S. pipe smoking tobacco is usually cut and ready for the pipe and sold in packages or cans. GRANULATED is tobacco that has been flaked by breaking or cutting machines with blunt teeth or saws and then passed over a series of oscillating sieves of graded mesh. PLUG-CUT or CUT-PLUG is first made into plugs by pressure. These plugs are then cut into thin slices convenient for crumbling. The slices are put up in packages in which form the smoker uses it. Special forms of cut-plug are, bird's-eye, short-cut, cube-cut, straight-cut, curly-cut, wavy-cut and cavendish-cut; the name being determined by the shape of the cut slices. "Navy-cut" is a particular kind of plug which was originally prepared directly by shipmen. LONG-CUT tobacco is leaf cut into long shreds. It differs from plug-cut in not having been pressed into solid plugs before cutting. FINE-CUT is finer and shorter shreds than the long-cut, and the tobacco used is usually of a less gummy kind. Other varieties known in the trade are: GERMAN SMOKING. A coarse-grained, heavy tobacco with strong flavor. It is a coarse granulated tobacco. STRIPS. A fine shredded or powdered tobacco used principally in the mining camps of Pennsylvania. SCRAP. Smoking tobacco made up from cigar clippings and cheap cigar leaf of the filler and binder type. PERIQUE TOBACCO Perique tobacco is a specially dark, rich variety having special qualities which render it desirable as a component in pipe smoking mixtures, or for straight smoking. Genuine Perique is grown and prepared only in the Parish of St. James in the State of Louisiana by the descendants of the old French Colonists. The properties which it possesses are essentially due to the peculiar method of curing and fermentation and not to any peculiarity in the leaf itself. It is the only tobacco in the United States that is grown and put in its final condition for the consumer by the farmer. It is said that the output of genuine Perique is small, being well under 50,000 lbs. annually. But there is a good deal of substitute Perique sold in lieu of the genuine kind. The tobacco is raised on a black, deep, exceedingly rich soil. The leaf is medium in size, about 18" long, and a rapid grower. The stem is small, the fiber tough and gummy. In curing no artificial heat is used. The leaf is hung in sheds for about 10 days. It is then stripped into half leaves. These are taken in bundles of about 20 each and converted into rough "twists." A dozen or so "twists" are packed in a box 11" square the weight being about 50 lbs. The contents of the box are then submitted to a pressure of about 7000 lbs. for at least 24 hours. The tobacco is then taken out and the twists again opened up. The leaves are exposed to the air and sunlight until an exudate appears on them and is reabsorbed. This is done over and over again for at least 10 days or until in appearance the tobacco is quite black. That is to say the curing of Perique is accomplished by allowing it to soak its own juice and then submitting to heavy pressure and repeating this process several times. When the leaf is cured it is made into rolls or "carottes." A cotton cloth 24" x 18" is taken and covered with leaves. Others are spread crosswise over these. Then rolled and a thin rope is wound very tightly about each bundle or "carotte." This process like the curing is repeated over and over again. One man can handle about 10 carottes in a day, the weight being about 4 lbs. each. Perique is considered to have a finer aroma than any other pipe smoking tobacco and its presence in a mixture is at once detected by the experienced smoker. It is said to contain only 1/4 of the citric acid, 1/2 of the nitric acid and 6 times as much acetic acid as tobacco cured in air. The resultant aroma is rich and fragrant, and the taste is smooth, delicate and agreeable. It is also claimed that it stimulates the brain without in any way being hurtful to the digestive or nervous systems. When the carottes are finally made it is usual to leave them under pressure for at least 12 months. The aroma is said to improve as the tobacco grows older. It has been stated above that much of the Perique tobacco is a substitute for the genuine. This substitute is made by taking inferior leaf and submitting it to a similar process, i. e., pressure and oxidation repeatedly. The process is abridged but a black tobacco results particularly when certain darkening ingredients are added. The moral is if you want genuine Perique be sure where you get it, and don't grudge the price. CHEWING TOBACCO The particular qualities required in leaf for this purpose are toughness, sweetness of taste, and a richness in oils and gums. Suitable leaf having been selected the leaf is cut and moulded into small plugs or "chews" which are put up in boxes for the market. Flavoring essences are of course plentifully used. As well as plug, chewing tobacco may be of the variety known as _twist_, the leaves being spun and twisted in a continuous roll. The plug consists of a wrapper and filler like the cigar, the brighter and better grades of leaf being used as wrappers. Burley leaf and the yellow leaf tobacco of Virginia, Kentucky and the Carolinas are principally used. The substances used for flavoring are liquorice, cane sugar, maple sugar, molasses, and rum, principally. The plugs are packed in boxes of 72 lbs. each, and also smaller boxes of 10 and 12 lbs. each. The principal centers of the manufacture of pipe smoking and chewing tobacco are Missouri (St. Louis); North Carolina (Durham and Winston); Kentucky (Louisville); New Jersey (Jersey City); Virginia (Richmond) and Ohio (Cincinnati). There are altogether about 400 establishments employing about 20,000 persons, and the value of the product is over 100 million dollars annually. This class of products is by its nature more suitable for concentration of manufacture than either cigars or cigarettes. Hence the small number of establishments. Only about 10 million lbs. of manufactured tobacco is exported. (_See references end of Chapter XV_) CHAPTER XIV CIGARETTES STATISTICS. KINDS AND WHERE MADE. IMPORTED CIGARETTES. DOMESTIC CIGARETTES. CIGARETTE PAPERS. CIGARETTES A cigarette according to the meaning of the word is a small cigar. It consists of a roll of loose tobacco wrapped in a case of either paper or tobacco-leaf. In the latter case it is known as an all-tobacco cigarette. Since the introduction of cigarette making machinery the output of cigarettes in the United States has grown enormously. This will be seen from the following figures which represent the output of cigarettes for the past 25 years: Number of cigarettes Year manufactured in the United States. 1890 2,000,000,000 1895 3,500,000,000 1900 4,000,000,000 1905 6,500,000,000 1910 7,000,000,000 These figures taken from Government Reports are given in round numbers. They include "little cigars" which form about 15% of the totals. About one-third is at present exported. In addition to the manufactured cigarettes there is, of course, the large amount of cigarettes made directly by the smoker himself. There are only about 500 establishments in the whole U. S. engaged in cigarette manufacture and about ten of these manufacture four times as many as all the rest together. There would in fact be fewer factories except for the popularity of certain brands of hand-made cigarettes. 95% of the total output is made in 4 cities, i. e., New York, Durham, N. C.; Richmond, Va.; and New Orleans. New York City alone manufactures about 60% of the whole; Richmond about 16%; New Orleans about 10% and Durham the balance. Every country manufactures its own peculiar brand of cigarettes. The best known and most popular kinds of cigarettes are those known as Virginian, Turkish, Havana, Porto Rican, Mexican, Russian and Philippine. The Havana, Porto Rican, Mexican and Philippine cigarettes are usually of the all-tobacco kind--the others being paper wrapped. They are generally made from the cuttings and smaller leaves of cigar leaf tobacco. Turkish cigarettes are celebrated all the world over. The name is however mostly a misnomer, for nearly all the so-called Turkish cigarettes proper are made in Egypt, Greece, etc., and not in Turkey. In Egypt, however, the best Turkish cigarettes are made from tobacco grown in Turkey (in Europe) which is imported, as no tobacco is grown in Egypt. The peculiar flavor of Egyptian Turkish cigarettes is due to special methods known only to the makers there. The crop of Turkish tobacco, particularly of the better kinds suitable for cigarettes, is small and less than half of it is exported. The supply of genuine Turkish cigarette tobacco is, therefore, strictly limited and does not find its way into ordinary channels. Much of so-called "Turkish" tobacco comes from China, and other parts of Asia. From Turkey, in Europe, the United States annually imports at present about ten million lbs., the actual government figures for 1913 being 10,816,048 lbs. valued at about 5-1/2 million dollars. From Turkey in Asia the imports in 1912 were 11,233,546 lbs., and in 1913, 18,955,295, this latter being valued at nearly 5 million dollars. It does not follow that all this latter is Turkish. It was probably in large part collected from distant points and shipped from ports in Asia Minor. The imports of Turkish tobacco during 1914 are considerably reduced on account of the war. One American company which does an immense business in the cigarette line maintains at Cavallo a large establishment for the direct purchase and treatment of its own Turkish leaf. This plant handles about 6 million lbs. of leaf annually. The American smoker of home-made Turkish cigarettes has the advantage of knowing that his leaf is genuine and bought economically. The most valued kind of Turkish tobacco is that grown in the Caza of Yenidji on the Vardar River region in Roumelia. The Latakia tobacco grown in the hilly part of Northern Syria is also celebrated as a cigarette tobacco. This tobacco has a low nicotine percentage (less than one per cent) and its peculiar aroma is due to its exposure for nearly 6 months to the smoke of the tree known as Quercus Ilex. Very choice parcels of these tobaccos fetch in the open market from $3 to $5 per lb.; lower grades are bought from 25c per lb. and up. The best known grades of cigarettes made from genuine Turkish leaf are the _La Ferme_ of Leipzig and St. Petersburg; the _Nestor_ and _Melachrino_ of Egypt; the _Monopol_ of New York; and the _Dubec_ of Richmond. In the Turkish hand-made cigarette there is no flavoring of any kind. In Europe the Turkish cigarettes are usually made by Greeks who are special adepts at this work. The paper wrappers are imported from France or Austria. The native cigarette makers as a rule blend their own leaf and cut or shred it by hand. An expert workman can make about 3,000 cigarettes per day. In the United States, Turkish cigarettes are of two kinds, imported and domestic. The imported include those purchased already made from Egypt, England, France, etc. In 1913 the value of cigarettes purchased directly by the U. S. from Egypt was about $25,000 and from England $22,000, other countries less. In 1914 the total cost of imported cigarettes (not including those from Philippine Islands) was $79,554. The value of such trade is, therefore, not large. The Turkish cigarettes made in the States are termed Domestic Turkish, and are usually hand-made, though not by any means exclusively so. It appears to be nothing more than an idiosyncrasy to consider that a hand-made cigarette is better than a machine-made one. As in the case of cigars, other things being equal it would appear that on many considerations, hygienic as well as mechanical, the balance is in favor of the machine. However, many still think there is some peculiar talismanic virtue in a hand-made cigarette and are willing to pay a higher price. There is, of course, a pleasure in making one's own cigarettes, but when they are bought made the advantage of hand-making is not very apparent. There are many variants of the Turkish cigarette. Besides the common paper wrapped variety some have fillers of Turkish tobacco with Havana or Virginia leaf wrapper; others have mixed fillers of Turkish, Virginia, Havana or Perique, two or more or all kinds being mixed. Each type of cigarette has its own special votaries. Cigarettes of this variety are not, however, so popular in the United States as in other countries where the cigarette is the most pronounced type smoked. The American cigarette is generally made of Yellow Virginian tobacco and is popular all the world over. The secret of success in good cigarette making lies in the selection and blending of the leaf so that the proper strength and characteristics may be secured. As a general rule no adulterants of any kind are added to the tobacco except in some of the very cheap kinds in which the leaf is sometimes treated with a glycerine solution in order to give it a sweetish taste. The solution is quite harmless. The machinery for the manufacture of cigarettes has been brought to such perfection that it is quite automatic. The only hand work required is the feeding of the tobacco into the hoppers. The cutting, rolling, wrapping, tipping and packing are all done quite mechanically, the cigarettes being turned out all ready for the smoker. In the large factories the processes are under strict hygienic conditions, which is not usually the case in the small workshops where the hand-made goods are prepared. The various machines used in the manufacturing processes are highly complicated and a detailed description of them would be too technical for these pages. The paper used for wrapping cigarettes has frequently been the subject of most unwarranted attacks and the most absurd statements have been made regarding it. Investigation and analysis of the paper used in the very cheapest grades of cigarettes by competent authorities have failed to find anything deleterious to health. The paper used for this purpose is made principally in France. It is of the kind known as rice paper although it has no connection whatever with rice. It is a vegetable substance being made usually from the membranes of the bread fruit tree or else from fine trimmings of flax and hemp. The materials are thoroughly washed and treated with lime and soda before and after pulping. Careful analysis are made to see that nothing is left that might be harmful and the manufacturers use the greatest care and judgment to see that their product is as pure and perfect as possible as it is their interest that it should be so. The paper is extremely thin and light, very combustible, and gives off very little smoke. These are the only qualities necessary and there is not the least reason to use any harmful ingredients, as the required qualities can be obtained by the ordinary manufacturing processes. Moreover, the best paper can be manufactured and supplied at a very low cost. From France the United States annually imports about $500,000 worth of cigarette paper and from Austria about $120,000 worth. Most manufactured cigarettes have a protective tip at the mouth end. This not only keeps the cigarette intact but prevents the tobacco from being wetted by the saliva. As already stated, nicotine is soluble in water, and its entrance to the mouth in this form is thus obviated. The tips are made of various substances, cork, straw, goldleaf, cherry wood, etc., in fact any water-proof substance that is harmless, nonadherent and smooth can be used. Cigarettes must according to the law of the U. S. be put up in packages of 5, 8, 10, 15, 20, 50 or 100, and the packages must not contain any lottery or chance ticket nor any indecent picture. Much criticism, that is to a large extent groundless, has been directed against the habit of cigarette smoking. It has been shown by many investigators that when not carried to excess the cigarette is the safest method of using tobacco. The reader is referred to the remarks regarding cigarettes in the chapter respecting the effect of tobacco on the human system; but it may be as well here to quote a recent editorial from one of the leading representative medical journals of the United States, the opinion stated in which should go far towards removing the absurd prejudice against the cigarette. From the _New York Medical Journal_ of July 25, 1914 (Editorial): "Particularly do the uninformed enjoy an attack on the cigarette; it is cheap; it is small; and its patrons, numerous as they are, yet form an insignificant minority in our immense population. Therefore, the cigarette and its users are fair game for cheap and silly sneers; sneers which are capable, however, of cowing an entire legislature, as in Georgia at this moment. Yet, beyond cavil, it has been proved scientifically that of all methods of using tobacco, cigarette smoking is the least harmful. Some months ago the _Laucet_ undertook a careful laboratory study of the various ways of consuming tobacco, with the result that it was found that the cigarettes, Egyptian, Turkish and American, yielded the least amount of nicotine to the smoke formed; the cigar came next in point of harmlessness, while the pipe overshadowed the cigar to the extent that from 70 to 90% of nicotine was said to exist in its smoke. "As to the paper of cigarettes the attacks are simply preposterous. * * * * * "Men are well within their rights in forbidding cigarette smoking and other pleasures and distractions to their employes; it is another matter when they seize an opportunity to compound with vices they have a mind to, by damning one they're not inclined to, especially when the latter affords solace and recreation to millions perfectly capable of judging what is and what is not good for them. In Europe where a good deal of logical thinking still prevails, there is probably not one smoker of distinction in any walk of life who does not include the cigarette in his nicotian armamentarium." (_See references end of Chapter XV_) CHAPTER XV SNUFF HOW MADE. QUALITIES. DESCRIPTION OF KINDS. SNUFF A century ago snuff taking was the principal form in which tobacco was used. The custom pervaded all classes of society and it was used by both sexes. The habit has to a very large extent died out; and it is rarely now that one sees a snuff box in use. Nevertheless there is still a very large trade in snuff manufacture, and it is used very extensively in many countries. It will surprise many to know that about 24 million lbs. of snuff are manufactured and used annually in the U. S. and that within recent years the percentage of increase in the use of this form of tobacco has been higher than in the case of cigar, cigarette or pipe smoking kinds. The value of the snuff manufactured annually is appraised for revenue purposes at about 6 million dollars. The process of the manufacture of snuff or tobacco powder, is essentially based on long and thorough fermentation as all bitter substances, acid and essential oils, as well as a large part of the nicotine, must be removed. Strong, coarse tobacco is suitable for the purpose, the darker types of Virginian and Tennessee tobaccos being used. Strong tobacco does not necessarily contain a high percentage of nicotine as is usually supposed. Strength has nothing to do with nicotine content; but whatever amount of nicotine the tobacco possesses, at least one-half must be removed by fermentation. As a general rule tobacco leaf which is at least 2 years old is used and this is submitted to a further fermentation process of a special kind for a period varying from 2 to 6 months. When the fermentation process is complete, the tobacco, while still in leaf and unpowdered, is technically known as snuff. There are two principal kinds of snuff and there are many varieties of each kind principally differing in flavor and minor qualities. The two kinds of snuff are known as Wet and Dry. These terms are due to the difference in the mode of manufacture. In making wet snuff, the tobacco leaves are ground up into grain form _before_ the fermentation takes place. It only becomes snuff when the fermentation is completed. In the dry kind the grinding does not take place until _after_ the fermentation is completed, when the fermented leaves are thoroughly dried. The grinding is then done in a muller similar to a mortar and pestle--this operation being conducted by machinery on a large scale. After grinding the snuff is put through a sieving process and is then sent to the seasoning department, thus occupying from 2 to 6 months or even longer. Various flavors--attar of roses and such like--are added to give the snuff different scents and flavors. The various names under which brands of snuff are put up are survivals of names applied to snuff made by methods no longer in vogue: SCOTCH SNUFFS are all dry. There are various kinds--strong, plain, sweet, salt, high-toast, etc. MACCABOY is a semi-wet snuff. SWEDISH SNUFFS usually contain a large percentage of moisture. The grains are coarse and usually highly flavored. Snuff taking is still extensive among the Swedish people. RAPPEE is a snuff made after the French fashion. REFERENCES (Chapters IX to XV) U. S. DEPT. OF COMMERCE. BUREAU OF THE CENSUS. _Report of 13th Census_, 1910. (Vol. on _Manufacturers_, 1912-1913.) U. S. DEPT. OF COMMERCE AND LABOR. BUREAU OF CORPORATIONS. _Report of the Commissioner of Corporations on the Tobacco Industry._ Vol. I, 1909, Continued. IVENS, W. M. _Brief and argument in certain appeals from the Circuit Court of U. S. for Southern District of New York._ (Tobacco Monopoly, 1911.) HOAGLAND, I. G. _The Tobacco Industry._ In _Quarterly of the National Fire Protection Assn._, 1907. Vol. I, Nos. 2 and 4. JACOBSTEIN, M. _The Tobacco Industry in the U. S._ New York, 1907. CHAPTER XVI SMOKING PIPES HISTORY. MATERIALS USED IN MAKING. MEERSCHAUM. BRIAR ROOT. AMBER. SPECIAL KINDS OF PIPES. CARE OF PIPES. PIPES The history of tobacco smoking pipes began with the discovery of tobacco by the Spaniards. How long before that event they were used is not known, but that they were used by the Indians and others for a long period is quite clear from many items of evidence. The reader who desires information concerning pre-Columbian tobacco pipes is referred to the _Pipes and smoking customs of the American Aborigines_, by J. D. McQuire, based on the material in the U. S. National Museum 1889, and other similar archaological works. The first mention of pipes in literature appears to have been made by Oviedo in 1535 in his work _La historia general de las Indias_ (Part 1). In this there is a small wood cut which is the oldest known picture of a pipe. This pipe was shaped like a Y--the two ends of which were placed in the nose and the tobacco leaves in the stem. The smoke was inhaled. Oviedo says that this pipe was called "Tabaca" from which the name tobacco was probably derived. Admiral John Hawkins was the first to mention the pipe in English literature in 1564. Raleigh's famous smoking feat did not take place until 1586. The Indian pipes were principally of clay and this material was used in England for the first pipes made there and continued in sole use for about 250 years. From England it came to New England, with the first colonists. The Spaniards of South America did not generally use pipes. Meerschaum as a pipe making material was not known in Europe till 1723. It came about in this way: There was then in Pesth (Austria-Hungary) an honest old shoemaker, Karl Kowates, who, when he was not making or mending shoes, made pipes. Count Andrassy was one of his pipe patrons. The Count while on a mission to Turkey in 1723 was presented with a lump of meerschaum. The lightness and porosity of the material suggested to him that it would be a very suitable substance for a pipe bowl and on his return to Pesth he handed the lump to Karl to make a pipe of it. It seems Karl made two, one for the Count and one for himself. But Karl did more than that. The nature of his shoe work made his hands waxy and he noticed that wherever the pipe was waxed by his hands it turned into spots of clear brown color. He thus discovered the coloring qualities of meerschaum. Karl's first pipe is still preserved (it is said) at Pesth. The new material became very popular and it spread from Austria all over pipe-smoking Europe. Wooden pipes do not appear to have come into use till the early part of the 19th Century. There is a good deal of interesting lore concerning early clay pipes into which it is not proposed to enter here. It will be interesting, however, to note that in William Penn's land transactions with the Indians, 300 clay pipes (probably English make) were one of the articles of barter. The earliest clay pipe stems were about 9 inches long. The long stem pipes with glazed ends were introduced about the year 1700 and were known as "Aldermen." The pipe known as the "Churchwarden" with a very long, thin, curved stem which was typical of a leisurable smoke did not come into use till about 1819. In those days smokers did not commonly carry pipes around with them. When a man arrived at an inn or tavern he ordered a pipe and tobacco, just as he ordered his dinner. The "Cutty" or "Aberdeen" with the short stem was, however, used by those who needed a pocket pipe. It is very surprising how little changes the pipe has undergone. The original pipe was a simple bowl and stem, and the best pipe today is a plain bowl and stem; for although hundreds of devices and all kinds of patents have been tried, the true smoker prefers the simple plain pipe which offers no obstacle to the clear drawing of the smoke from the burning tobacco. The materials used for pipes differ in various countries. Pipes are made of clay, porcelain, wood, metal, glass, ivory, horn, cane, bamboo, stone, etc. There is no known material which in the opinion of smokers equals genuine meerschaum as a material for pipes. This is on account of its lightness, its coolness, its absorbing qualities and its capabilities of high polish and assumption of a beautiful color when used from soaking the essential oils of the tobacco. Its friability, however, renders it more suitable for use as a home pipe than for a work-a-day pipe. For the work-a-day and knock-about pipe the wooden pipe with short stem is without a rival. The qualities which are essential for a wooden pipe are many and it is difficult if not impossible to get any material that will answer all of them. The wood for such a pipe must be hard and practically incombustible, yet light. It must be sapless and inodorous so that when heated the fragrance of the tobacco would not be mingled with that of the wood and be lost. In addition it must be a good absorber, cool and have beauty of grain and be susceptible of a high polish and must not be brittle. The wood known as briar root possesses these qualities to a greater extent than any other wood known. It will be described in more detail later. Myall, a native Austrian wood of a very dark color, hard and of good grain has many excellent qualities for pipes, but is brittle. Maple, juniper and cherry and several other woods are used to a limited extent. MEERSCHAUM Meerschaum is a light, porous, clayey substance composed of magnesium, oxygen and silicon. It is chemically described as a hydrated silicate of magnesia and its chemical formula is MgSi{2}O{4} + 2H{2}O. The word _meerschaum_ is composed of two German words, i. e., Meer, the sea; and Schaum, foam, and literally means "the foam of the sea." A popular belief being that the substance was petrified sea foam. The circumstances under which meerschaum came to be used for smoking pipes have already been detailed. Meerschaum occurs as a mineral more or less scattered all over the world, but the largest quantities and probably the best qualities occur in Asia Minor. In the United States, the mineral is found in South Carolina. Other mines occur in Spain, Greece and Morocco. The principal mines in Asia Minor are situated about 250 miles southwest of Constantinople, on the plains of Eskishahr. Meerschaum has been in use for sundry purposes in the Orient for many centuries and the mines of Asia Minor have been worked for at least 1,000 years. The result is that they are now approaching exhaustion. The area in which the mineral occurs principally is small, about six square miles, and in this area many thousands of pits are worked. The soil is alluvial and in these deposits the meerschaum is found in soft lumps and nodules having no definite or regular shape. It also occurs in veins among the Serpentine rocks and marls. Although it is soft when taken out of the ground it rapidly hardens when exposed to the air. It is roughly shaped and cleaned at the mines and from thence sent to the dealers who further prepare it by waxing and polishing and put it on the market in the conditions in which it reaches the pipe makers. The principal European depots for meerschaum are Constantinople and Vienna. It is usually packed in boxes containing about 50 lbs. each and sells for from 50c to $4.00 per lb. The lumps on reaching the manufacturers are first cut with a band saw into suitable sized blocks according to the size and shape of the pipes desired. These blocks are then thoroughly soaked in water until they are thoroughly saturated. The soaking renders the material soft and soapy and gives it the consistency of cheese, so that it is then easily shaped into the desired form which the pipe is to take. It is then dried and hardened again and on completion the bowl is hollowed out and the stem drilled. If the pipe is a plain one without carving it is finished on a lathe and filed ready for polishing. It is also threaded for the mouthpiece. The pipe is then sent to the drying room for such time as is necessary to expel all moisture. The final treatment for the smoothing of the surface is done by fine sandpaper and other special substances, then immersing in melted white beeswax for three to five minutes and finally the giving of a high polish with precipitated chalk, cotton and flannel being the usual rubbing materials used. Meerschaum by its nature is particularly adapted for carving. The hand carving of such pipes requires artistic and dexterous craftsmen, who are experts in this particular class of work. There are various imitations of meerschaum. One is made from burnt gypsum soaked with lime in a solution of gum arabic. This forms a hard, creamy plaster and is capable of receiving a highly smooth and polished marble-like surface. Another form of imitation is made of a hardened plaster of Paris highly polished and tinted in a solution of gamboge and dragon's blood, being afterwards treated with paraffin or stearic acid. All cheaper grades of meerschaum pipes, holders, etc., are made of this or similar compounds and it is very hard for the average smoker to distinguish them as the ordinary tests will not suffice. The absorption and coloring qualities are about the same. Such imitations cost about half as much as the genuine article or even sometimes less. It should be added that the chips and dust resulting from the working of the genuine meerschaum are bonded together with a solution and moulded and this is also sold as meerschaum. The number of genuine meerschaum pipes annually manufactured is probably much less than one-half a million, while there are probably three or four times as many imitations. BRIAR ROOT As we have seen briar root is found to be the most suitable wood for pipe smoking. The word briar is not named from wild briar. The word is a corruption of the French name La Bruyère, meaning the heather shrub of that name which grows along the Mediterranean coast of France, Spain and neighboring countries. It is the root of this shrub which is the substance used. The shrub is especially cultured for the purpose of pipe making; but the area in which the best briar root grows is very limited. It takes considerable time and the result is that the supply of the most suitable wood is far below the demand. The cultivation of the briar root is a simple matter. It consists merely in pruning the growth as much as possible so as to encourage and strengthen the roots. The very best qualities of briar root come from Corsica and the neighborhood of Leghorn. It is very finely grained, hard and tough, does not char and heats slowly. When full grown and ready for the market the wood is rough sawn into blocks, varying in size from 3 inches square up, according to the market sizes required, and allowed to season. When fully seasoned the blocks are packed in boxes each containing from 200 to 300 of these blocks. They are then sent to the dealers or direct to the pipe factories as the case may be. In the factory the blocks are sorted and then undergo a sweating process in steam vats for ten to twelve hours. This steaming gives the wood the familiar brown-yellow tint of the natural briar root uncolored. After sweating the blocks are sent to the drying room as all traces of moisture must be removed. This usually takes several months. For pipe making the workman selects his block and roughly trims it to size. It is then placed in the frazing machine. This usually has three cutters revolving at very high speed, making several thousand revolutions per minute. The center cutter shapes out the block and the outer knives cut away the wood on the outside so as to form the block roughly into the shape of a pipe bowl and stem. This is then placed in a special lathe for cutting irregular forms. It is usual to fit in it a metal pattern of the particular shape chosen for the pipe. A circular cutting tool is set in motion and the briar block, which turns with the metal pattern, is mechanically cut to the exact shape of the pattern. After cutting, the pipe passes to the sandpapering machines where both inside and outside are thoroughly treated, and it gets a first polishing or smoothing on a pumice stone wheel. The next process is the boring of the stem which is done in a drilling machine by a steel wire having a cutting top rapidly turned by a lathe. The thread on the end of the stem for the mouthpiece is formed by a special machine. The pipe is then ready for polishers and finishers. It is first sandpapered four times, twice with rough and twice with fine on revolving wheels. Unless the wood is to be left its natural color, it is dropped into a vat of stain until it acquires the color desired. After drying it is ready for "buffing." A "buff" is a wheel made of many layers of cloth, leather, etc., which revolves very rapidly. For pipe buffing these buffs are usually Tripoli buff, sheepskin buff, muslin and cotton flannel buff. The Tripoli takes off any sediment held by the edges of the grain. The sheepskin buff burns the color fast into the wood. The muslin and cotton bring out the grain and gives the wood its final delicate lustre and finish, which are done when the stem and mountings have been put on. The pipes are then ready for final stamping with name and packing. The process is much the same with all other hard woods. Pipe factories are found in most countries. French briar pipes are justly celebrated, but the American pipes are better made. Within recent years calabash has come into vogue to a large extent as a pipe making material. The calabash is a South African squash and has a special softness of flavor. The curved stem end of the calabash is used, being lined with plaster of Paris, and quite a large trade has sprung up in South Africa in growing calabash for the pipe trade, the principal point being Cape Town. THE PIPE STEM It is very important that suitable material be selected for the mouthpiece of the pipe. In fact from many points of view the mouthpiece is the most important part of the pipe for the smoker, because damage to the lips must be particularly avoided, and a defective, rough, or badly made mouthpiece is apt to cause damage. There are three very important qualities which the material must have: (1) It must be hard enough to resist indentation from the teeth and yet not feel gritty. (2) It must be capable of receiving a perfectly smooth surface and of retaining it under the action of saliva. (3) It must not be a rapid heater so that it will not burn the lips, or crack or splinter under action of heat. Other very desirable qualities are toughness, beauty of appearance and freedom from taste or odor under all circumstances of use. Amber has a unique place in fulfilling these conditions. Amber is a fossil gum or resin, the juice of pine trees, which in course of time has become petrified like coal. Amber is found is various parts of the world, but is more plentifully found along the sandy shores of East Prussia bordering on the Baltic Sea. This area was in time long past the site of pine forests. The amber is found very often to occur with lignite or brown coal. It is dug out of the cliffs or mined like coal out of the ground. Sometimes it is washed in from the sea. In size it varies from the size of a pea to lumps as large as an orange. When first dug up it is usually of a pale yellow color, but this becomes darker on exposure. The manufacture of commercial amber is a government monopoly in Prussia. The pieces are all melted down at a temperature of about 550° F., and then after purification it is cast into slabs about 7/8 inch to 1-5/8 inches thick and four inches to eight inches long, in which form it is sold to dealers. There are two qualities, opaque and transparent, the opaque being the tougher. The cost varies considerably, the inferior kinds being sold for $2.00 per pound, and the finest specimens cost up to $60.00 per pound. By far the largest quantity of amber used for ordinary pipes is imitation amber. The manufacture of this is a trade secret. It is so good and fulfills its purpose so well that only experts can distinguish it from genuine amber. There are many substitutes for amber. Good vulcanite, except for the matter of appearance is little inferior to amber as mouthpiece material. Cut vulcanite is cool and smooth, but moulded vulcanite is liable to be rough to the lips and should be avoided. Vulcanite mouthpieces are usually sold already finished direct to the pipe makers. Except for the matter of brittleness unglazed clay is a most excellent pipe stem. Clay is usually cool and very absorbent of the acrid oils occurring in the distillation of tobacco. When the end of a clay stem is protected by a rubber band, it forms a very good mouthpiece. Bone and other materials are also used as mouthpieces. Ebonite is used, but is objectionable because it spoils the flavor of the tobacco. Celluloid is a dangerous substance and should not be used as a pipe stem. The smoker should avoid biting the mouthpiece as it roughens it. It is far better to discard a mouthpiece when it becomes indented, rough or worn in any way. A damaged mouthpiece should on no account be used when the lips are chapped or lacerated because the irritation may, if continued, lead to ulceration and tobacco juice is not beneficial to skin lesions. SPECIAL PIPES German pipes are, as might be expected, the most correct in scientific principle. The pipe has two bowls the upper of which is for the tobacco. This fits into a socket which allows the oils and aqueous solutions due to the distillation to pass into the lower bowl, very little getting into the stem. The bowls are usually of porcelain and the long curved stem is of wood mostly cherry. The Dutch pipe is similar to the German except that the stem is long and straight which allows the bowl to rest on the ground. The German pipe is usually held in the hand by the lower bowl. In Turkey and Oriental countries the water pipe is used. This form of pipe originated in Persia. The pipe consists of a receptacle for the tobacco, which has a perforated bottom. This holder fits into a cup from which a hollow tube leads into a jar containing water. The tube passes through the stopper of the jar and descends almost to the bottom of the water. Another tube, the inhaling tube, also passes through the stopper of the jar, but does not reach to the surface of the water. On drawing through the inhaler a vacuum is created in the air space above the surface of the water in the jar which induces suction through the other tube below the water level. The smoke therefore bubbles through the water and is cooled before it reaches the mouth of the smoker. It, however, requires a considerable amount of effort to draw the smoke through. Water pipes are used extensively among the better classes of the East. Some of them are very gorgeous affairs, the bowls being of the richest crystal and the fittings gold or silver set with gems. Sometimes they have several smoking tubes so as to accommodate more than one smoker. The water pipe used by the Shah of Persia is said to be worth $400,000.00. In Turkey the water pipe is known by the name of Hookak. In Egypt it is called Nargeeleh (or Narghile) because the water vessel is usually a cocoa nut for which the Arabic name is Na'rghee'leh. The Hookak usually stands on the floor and is ponderous, with many smoking tubes. The Nargeeleh is a hand pipe. In Eastern countries, however, besides the water pipe the ordinary clay bowl pipe is used to a very large extent, being fitted with a wooden stem from 3 to 5 feet in length. All these pipes are essentially home pipes, as it is not habitual with the Eastern people to smoke except when seated. In China both sexes commonly smoke pipes--a water pipe made of brass is usually smoked by the richer classes. The poorer classes use a clay pipe with a bamboo stem. The principal importation into the United States of foreign made pipes and smokers' articles is from Austria, England and Germany. The latest government statistics show that from England $278,000, from Austria about $280,000, and from Germany about $139,000 worth of such goods are annually imported. These are principally pipes. Cigarette paper, briar root, etc., are not included in these figures. The total importation value in 1912 (exclusive of duty) from Europe was $1,478,000. THE CARE OF PIPES An experienced smoker lays down the following rules for the care of pipes. The rules apply whether a man uses one or half a dozen pipes: (1) When a pipe is used for the first time wipe out the bowl with a cloth. Then thoroughly wet or dampen it. Before the moisture evaporates fill the pipe. Light evenly and be careful not to burn the rim with the lighted match. The tobacco being damp next the wood will not redden there, hence the wood will not char but a sooty film will form. (2) Ashes should be allowed to remain in the pipe till thoroughly cooled. Then emptied. The object of this is to allow the liquid residue to soak into the pores of the new wood. (3) Do not scrape the inner surface of the bowl. The thin coating of carbon (the "cake") which is formed on it is a nonconductor of heat and prevents the wood from overheating or cracking. It keeps the pipe cool and is a good absorber. (4) After half a dozen smokes the rule of removing the ashes should be reversed. They should be removed promptly after smoking. Blow through the mouthpiece after smoking. By this time the inner surface of bowl is sufficiently soaked and coated and continuation makes it acrid and sodden. (5) Always allow your pipe to cool and dry before resmoking. Use pipe cleaners and pipe spoon for cleaning. When the "cake" becomes too thick part of it may be removed but always leave a layer next the wood. Be careful not to scrape the surface of the bowl. (6) A pipe should not be used continuously for more than a few weeks or a month. It should then be cleaned and allowed rest unused for a while. It is well to allow it to hang where the sunlight can play on it. Acrid matters will dry out and the pipe will be sweet when smoked again. It is a good plan to pack the bottom of the bowl with powdered chalk when it is resting. When a pipe tastes acrid it requires more than ordinary cleaning. If one has the opportunity a most excellent way is to blow steam through it, first removing the mouthpiece. Another way recommended by a smoker who says it is most efficacious is to fit a cork into the bowl of the pipe. Make a hole in the cork, into which the nozzle of a soda siphon will fit snugly. Direct the mouthpiece into some emptying vessel and force about a wine glass of the soda water from the siphon through the pipe. It will clean it out effectively. If you are smoking a meerschaum and desire it to color well and evenly it is a good plan to use a false upper bowl to fit inside the bowl of your pipe. The rim of fire where the tobacco is burning makes the pipe bowl too hot and does not allow that part to color. The false bowl will prevent this. Some smokers think that covering a meerschaum bowl with chamois will cause it to color well. The chamois will not aid the coloring but it will protect the bowl from being touched by the hand during the process and thus avoiding a spotty effect, particularly if the hand should be moist or greasy. During the progress of the coloring the pipe should never be allowed to get too hot. The time required to color a pipe depends on the tobacco used. If it is a rich oily tobacco, the time necessary is shorter than with a dry tobacco. Imitation meerschaum of the cheaper kind are sometimes artificially colored by the makers. This is done by boiling the pipe in an oily solution of nicotine, the formula for which as given in the _American Druggist_, V. 58, is: Crude nicotine (oil of tobacco)==[ounce] i. Olive oil==[ounce] ii. Yellow wax==[ounce] viii. The pipe is kept in the boiling solution from 10 to 15 minutes and rapidly absorbs it. The surface is capable of a high polish. REFERENCES PENN, W. A. _The Soverane Herbe: a History of Tobacco._ London and New York, 1901. FAIRHOLT, F. W. _Tobacco; its History and Associations._ London, 1876. CHAPTER XVII EFFECTS OF TOBACCO SMOKING ON THE HUMAN SYSTEM PHYSICAL EFFECTS. OPINIONS OF MEDICAL MEN QUOTED AND DISCUSSED. EFFECTS OF TOBACCO SMOKING ON THE HUMAN SYSTEM It is a matter of very great importance for the user of tobacco that he should have clear information regarding the beneficial and harmful effects of tobacco on the human mind and body. There are very few matters which have been the subject of such varied opinions; such exaggeration and misconception. Those who are opposed to the use of tobacco have not hesitated to ascribe to it every form of evil, physical, mental and moral. Insanity, epilepsy, cancer, malignant throat disease, blindness, heart disease and a host of other diseased conditions are traced to tobacco smoking by its enemies. On the other hand the users of tobacco are scarcely less vehement in holding that no harmful effects follow, but ascribing all kinds of virtue as resulting from its use. It is not our object in this chapter to justify or recommend the use, or to advise the avoidance of tobacco; we think it is a matter that the individual should decide for himself. Moreover, we think that no general rules governing all cases can be laid down, but that each individual must judge for himself whether the use of tobacco is justified in his own particular case or not, taking into consideration all the circumstances that affect him. The important thing is that he should possess clear and correct information with regard to the effects of tobacco as far as such have been scientifically determined; and from the observation of its effects on his own organism to determine whether in his own case the practice is beneficial or otherwise and to what extent it may be pursued if he desires to smoke. We, therefore, purpose to submit the facts which have been determined by the most careful scientific investigators and others of high standing, who, from their experience in the investigation of the causes of disease, are best qualified to offer opinions which may be accepted as authoritative. A perusal of the vast amount of literature both for and against the use of tobacco brings out certain points very largely. First, in the case of the opponents, the most sweeping statements are made without a particle of scientific proof in support of them, by persons who are in no way qualified to make such statements. Statistics are quoted most recklessly and accepted as conclusive, although in most cases there is no logical connection between the matter of the statistics and the absolute effects of tobacco. If there is a question of a certain condition, it is not sufficient to show that the person suffering from it was a user of tobacco and to allege, therefore, that tobacco was the cause of the condition. It must be shown conclusively that no other circumstances than the use of tobacco could have caused this condition. Dr. T. W. Jenkins, of Albany, N. Y., (New York _Medical Journal_, 1915, V. 102, p. 355), who was awarded a prize by this leading medical journal for his essay on tobacco smoking says: "The first thing to bear in mind is that considering the large amount of tobacco used very little harm results, and care should be taken not to incriminate tobacco when the troubles under observation may be due to other causes." Secondly, among the investigators themselves who have made impartial inquiries about the effects of tobacco, there is sometimes a wide difference of opinion in the interpretation of results and in the relation of cause and effect. Thus most varied opinions exist on the subject of nicotine. The result is that it is difficult for the average man to come to a satisfactory conclusion on the subject; for it cannot be said that the scientific knowledge of the effects of tobacco smoking on the human system as presented to us today is final or sufficiently well determined to enable definite and true conclusions to be arrived at. Thirdly, there is the widespread error of ascribing the evils of the _abuses_ of tobacco to the _use_ of tobacco. This matter of the _use_ and _abuse_ of tobacco cannot be put too clearly. Most medical investigators have based their results clearly on the _excessive_ use of tobacco. It is a very rare thing to find a medical investigator drawing attention to any harmful results following the moderate use of tobacco, and it appears a just statement to make that the majority of men use tobacco in moderation. It appears to be true that excessive smoking is harmful and is capable of producing deleterious effects on the respiratory and nervous systems in man, but it has never been scientifically proved that the moderate use of tobacco has any particularly harmful effects. Moreover, it is well-known to the medical profession and so stated constantly that in many cases where the use of tobacco has produced bad effects on the eye, nerves, etc., its use is contra-indicated, owing to the condition of the subject due to other causes and that such results would not occur in a normally healthy subject. Therefore, because tobacco when used excessively or when used by persons who are not constitutionally fitted for it, produces bad effects, it is not logical to argue, as many opponents of tobacco smoking do, that the use of tobacco is universally harmful. Fourthly, the conclusions arrived at by some investigators, are based on experiments made on animals, and it appears quite open to criticism, and is in fact disproved by common experience, that such results will follow when applied to man. Hinging on this is the question of immunity and toleration. The human system will easily after use tolerate effects which at first it rebels against. This may easily be seen in muscular and other efforts. Let a man who is constantly leading a sedentary life suddenly walk 10 miles. The result is almost prostration and he will not recover from it for a considerable time. Let him, however, commence by walking a mile or two and gradually at each walk increase the distance, and in a short while he will be able to walk 10 miles without feeling any fatigue. Similarly running or other rapid exercise to a person not used to it will produce such rapid disturbances in the respiration and circulation as even to be fatal, while the seasoned athlete may perform such feats without the least ill effects. To take animals or persons who have never before used tobacco and to argue or conclude that the effects of tobacco smoke on them are the effects of tobacco on smokers generally is absurd. Yet such experimental results are very often made the basis of denunciation of tobacco smoking. Finally most investigators have made their inquiries for the exclusive purpose of discovering the evil effects of tobacco smoking. They proceed to their work with a biassed mind. They have already assumed that the habit is harmful and they simply want to find out how much harm they can discover. They are prejudiced from the beginning. It is to this class of investigator that Dr. John Aikman refers to (New York _Medical Journal_, Oct. 30, 1915), when he says: "In reading the literature on the use of tobacco we are impressed by the fact that much of it is written by persons greatly opposed to the use of the plant, and naturally prejudiced." It is quite conceivable that a man may investigate the evil effects which follow from wearing clothes and shoes and he could undoubtedly find some evil effects; but the users of such articles could very justly say that the beneficial results of such habits more than outweighed the demonstrated harm that might occur. And then the user of tobacco might say that the beneficial effects of smoking more than compensated for any slight harm that may happen. For tobacco has undoubtedly many excellent effects, and no one knows this better than the smoker himself. He will readily admit that excess is bad. He will readily admit that the use of tobacco is not suitable to immature persons, or in fact to many other persons, but he insist that in the majority of cases, it is not only practically harmless but that it has many desirable qualities, for that is proved by his own experience and the experience of millions of other smokers in all ages and under all conditions. We will now proceed to consider some of the effects which have been ascribed to tobacco smoking and give expressed opinions concerning them. PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TOBACCO SMOKING The principal deleterious effects on the human system ascribed to the use of tobacco are: (a) Throat diseases. (b) Disturbance of vision. (c) Heart troubles (smokers' heart). (d) Disturbance of the digestive organs (dyspepsia, etc.). (e) Disturbance of the nervous system. (f) Disturbance of nutrition. As regards (a) throat diseases, the following is the opinion of Dr. H. Reik of the Johns Hopkins University, surgeon to the Baltimore Eye, Ear and Throat Hospital, as expressed by him in the Boston _Medical and Surgical Journal_, Vol. 162, p. 856, 1910: "There is not one scintilla of evidence that malignant disease of the throat is due in any way to the use of tobacco; and if it be admitted that carcinoma (cancer) of the lip or tongue has been produced by smoking, it is clearly _not tobacco_, but traumatism (i. e., injury) from the stems of the pipe or other tobacco container that is responsible. "It does not appear or at least has not been proven that tobacco causes any definite characteristic lesions of the nose, throat or ear." Dr. Reik is a man of high standing in the medical profession. His opinion is clear and unmistakable and it is presumed he has seen thousands of cases of nose and throat diseases and knows what he is talking about. Dr. Reik refers to the question of so-called smokers' cancer. Cancer is a disease which attacks all kinds of people and may occur in widely different parts of the body. The causation of this disease is not known to the medical profession but what is known about it is that it usually occurs on the site of some previous injury. Thus cancer may occur on the tongue as the result of the constant irritation of a jagged broken tooth. Dr. I. C. Bloodgood (Boston _Medical and Surgical Journal_, No. 2, 1914), who has examined 200 cases of lip cancer says that smoking is a common factor, the disease when occurring being usually on the site of a neglected and ulcerated smoker's burn. The burn may be a charring of the skin due to a very hot pipe stem or burning cigar stem. He says, moreover, that if the burn is not continued and there is no other injury, this defect may heal without evidence of ulceration. Similarly a cancer may be the result of continual use of a broken or rough pipe stem or from using a dirty pipe stem on a broken skin. All these are clearly matters which the average smoker easily and usually avoids. It is, however, clear that tobacco itself is in no way responsible for cancer, and no responsible medical writer on the subject alleges that it is. Most of the medical writers who have inscribed injurious physical effects on the nervous system, heart and sense organs, to excessive tobacco smoking have stated that these effects are due to the toxic action of the alkaloid nicotine known to exist in tobacco. There is a wide difference, however, in the results obtained by different writers as to the amount of the nicotine in tobacco which finds its way with the tobacco smoke. Moreover, some of the investigators who have done very careful work do not consider that nicotine is the toxic element, but the substance called pyridine which is derived from it. Dr. Bush (quoted below) referring to this matter says: "From a review of the literature it would appear that extensive studies had been made as to the effects on living organisms of the alkaloid, nicotine. From such studies a great number of writers, especially laymen, have adopted the hasty conclusion that tobacco smoking entailed like results. "Comparatively few studies have been made of the effects of tobacco smoking on human beings; and such as have been made fail to state if the tobacco used or the smoke produced was examined for nicotine or its congeners. The absence of an examination necessarily causes some doubt in the causative faction of the phenomena. Some authors are rather inclined to conclude that nicotine alone is the pathogenic factor in tobacco smoking, but since the presence of nicotine _per se_ in tobacco smoke is debatable and since other toxic substances are demonstrable, it would seem as if the whole subject still remained open for investigation." The nicotine contained in ordinary tobacco, according to many authors, ranges from about 1 to 8 or 9 per cent. Lee's investigation (_Journal of Physiology_, 1908, p. 335) found that about half of the total nicotine was present in the smoke--according to Lee the pyridin seemed to be entirely without influence. Lehmann (_Archiv für Hygiene_, 1909, p. 319) found that from 80 to 90% of the total nicotine in a cigar or cigarette was to be found in the smoke. He found also that in the case of cigars about 10 to 18% of the nicotine in the smoke is absorbed by the smoker and that cigarette smoke absorbed by the smoker contains a less proportion of the nicotine in the tobacco than is the case with cigars. The general opinion is, however, that about one-seventh of the nicotine in the tobacco will be found in the smoke. Entirely at variance with these results are those obtained recently by A. D. Bush, M.D., Instructor of Physiology in the University of Vermont (New York _Medical Journal_, March 14, 1914), and those obtained in the laboratory investigation by the London _Laucet_. Bush made long and extensive investigations on the effects of tobacco smoking and criticised the results of previous workers. He shows very clearly that in many cases the conclusions drawn by them as regards nicotine contained in tobacco smoke are either entirely erroneous or that the deductions made from the investigations were not warranted by the facts observed. He points out the fact that most writers on the subject have overlooked the fact of the great discrepancy between the possible effects arising from the administration of the amount of nicotine in a cigar and the actual effect produced on the smoker of the cigar. He asks this pertinent question: "If a cigar contains 0.085 grains nicotine, and if one-seventh of the nicotine of the tobacco is present in the smoke and if but .004 grains is capable of causing death, why does the smoker not absorb enough nicotine to cause his demise?" As a result of his careful experiments, Bush found that although nicotine was present in all the samples of tobacco tested there was no nicotine whatever found in the smoke, except in the case of cigarettes and in this case only traces were found. The reason of this is given as due to the rapid burning of the cigarette which did not allow sufficient time for the complete decomposition of the nicotine. Pyridine was, however, found in the smoke of all tobacco burned. Pyridine is only one-twentieth as toxic as nicotine. Bush concluded, therefore, that pyridine and not nicotine is the toxic factor in tobacco smoke. The same fact was stated several years ago by Rideal (_Disinfection and Preservation of Food_, London and New York, 1903, p. 254), who says: "Tobacco smoke, contrary to popular belief, does not contain nicotine, which is decomposed by the heat; but pyridine and its homologues and the beneficial effects of tobacco in many cases of asthma must be attributed to this latter." The _Lancet_ investigation (see _Lancet_, Ap. 6, 1912, pp. 944-947) was made because "a recent review of numerous analysis of tobacco which have been published from time to time raises some doubt as to whether the results given correctly represent the actual alkaloidal contents of the tobacco." Moreover, to find the relationship of the true amount of nicotine in any tobacco to that in the smoke produced by the combustion of that tobacco, and any modification caused by the method of smoking. The investigation was conducted under the strictest conditions, the most recent methods of chemical research being employed. The following table (given by the _Lancet_) shows the nicotine contents of various tobacco samples and the percentage of nicotine in the smoke: Description of Tobacco. Per Cent Per Cent Per Cent Nicotine Nicotine Nicotine in Tobacco in Smoke in Smoke (Pipe). (Cigarette). Virginian Cigarettes (Sample 1) 1.40 0.74 0.12 Virginian Cigarettes (Sample 2) 1.60 0.60 0.06 Caporal (French) Tobacco 2.60 2.20 0.95 Turkish Cigarettes 1.38 0.51 Egyptian Cigarettes 1.74 0.21 Pipe Smoking Mixture (1) 2.85 2.20 2.25 Pipe Smoking Mixture (2) 2.81 1.53 Pipe Smoking Mixture (3) 2.04 0.23 Perique Tobacco 5.30 1.27 0.57 Cavendish Tobacco 4.15 3.85 Latakia Tobacco 2.35 1.20 Havana Cigar 0.64 0.20 From this analysis it appears that pipe mixtures contain the largest amount of nicotine in the tobacco (2.04-2.85%). Egyptian and Turkish cigarette tobaccos come next (1.38-1.74%). Virginian cigarette tobacco shows similar figures (1.40-1.60%). French tobacco (Caporal) contains 2.60%, and Perique 5.30%. For all practical purposes the tobaccos consumed by the public according to this report seldom contain more than 3% of nicotine and generally less, the average being about 2%, which is much lower than previous writers lead us to expect. The cigarette, whether Egyptian, Turkish or American, yields the least amount of its total nicotine to the smoke formed, while the pipe yields a very large portion (in some cases between 70 and 80%) of its nicotine to the smoke. Analysis of cigar smoke gives figures midway between the two. With the results of Bush and the _Lancet_ before him the user of tobacco will be better able to judge of the opinions of those who describe the effects of nicotine on the vision, heart, digestive organs, etc., as likely to be the results of tobacco smoking. Thus the disturbance of vision ascribed to tobacco smoking is called tobacco amblyopia. Dr. W. S. Franklin of San Francisco (_Calif. State Jour. of Med._, 1909, V. 7, p. 85), says that to produce this disease it is necessary to smoke daily from .75 to 1.0 gms. of pure nicotine. If 17% of the nicotine of tobacco is carried in the smoke, in order to absorb that quantity 7 or 8 cheap domestic cigars, 10 or 11 Cubans or 60 cigarettes should be smoked. Now very few smokers consume this amount and according to Bush, and the _Lancet_, and others there is no such percentage of nicotine in the smoke. To the use of tobacco is ascribed an acid dyspepsia--this, however, is noticed more particularly in habitual chewers and in this case the nicotine not being burnt has no chance of being decomposed. All writers have agreed that chewing is the worst way that tobacco can be used. Dr. R. V. Dolbey says: (_Northwest Medicine_, 1909, V. 1 p. 99). "In chewing, quantities of watery extract of tobacco are swallowed and taken down with the food containing a large percentage of nicotine and causing severe dyspepsia. While tobacco juice solution in the laboratory kills intestinal bacteria, excessive tobacco chewing does not have this effect on the human body owing to the fact that the gastric and pancreatic juices act on it and alter it." Dr. I. S. Gilfilian discusses the effects of tobacco on the heart in the St. Paul _Medical Journal_, July, 1912, p. 338. He says that the important part whether organic changes in the cardio-vascular system may be produced by tobacco is still doubtful, and that it has never been shown that smokers suffer more from organic heart disease than nonsmokers. General opinion is that smoking lessens the pulse rate and slightly increases the blood pressure, and that it is a cause of arterio-sclerosis. With regard to arterio-sclerosis, Dr. A. Lorand of Carlsbad who is a world-wide authority on the effects of toxic substances on the blood, says in his book, _Old Age Deferred_ (English translation, 1910, p. 367): "Clinically we have observed the great frequency of arterio-sclerosis in _great_ smokers, but we do not think that two or three light cigars a day, but never before meals, can do any harm save in exceptional cases. Indeed there are a few instances of persons living to be over 100, notwithstanding the fact that they were smokers--a fact contrary to the observation of Hufeland who pretends that he never heard of such a case. The famous English painter, Frith, who died in October, 1909, used to smoke 6 cigars a day, and Mr. F. of Chartres, in France, passed last year his 100th birthday in spite of his having taken snuff all his life." If there were any serious lesions caused in the human system by the continued use of tobacco we might naturally expect that life insurance companies would take notice of it, but hear what they have to say (_Medical Record_, New York, July 12, 1913): Dr. H. G. Turney, at the meeting of Life Insurance Medical Officers Association, London, January, 1913, said that as far as observation and study of the literature went he did not consider that there was much evidence that the habit of smoking can be convicted of any serious effect on the mortality table. One must confess rather to a feeling of surprise that the life-long absorption of so potent a drug as nicotine by a large proportion of the male population should not be accompanied by more obvious results in the way of serious injury to the cardiac muscle than appears to be the case. Dr. A. Marvin of the Department of Pharmacology, Vermont University, made numerous experiments on the effects produced by tobacco. In the cases of the respiratory system, he states that in rapid smoking the respiratory rate is increased, due more to the effort than to the drug. In deliberate smoking there is very little effect. In the digestive system the effects produced were, increased flow of saliva and stimulation of the mucous membrane of the stomach and intestines. Marvin did not find any important symptoms of systemic irregularities except where there was excessive use of tobacco. He says: "Tobacco produces, _when used to excess_, symptoms in a very small per cent and often it is only one factor in producing the conditions observed." A very cautiously expressed and noncommittal opinion. It is to be remembered that of the percentage of nicotine in tobacco smoke only a small portion is drawn into the smoker's system. The greater part passes off again in the smoke passed out; also that the products of combustion of tobacco include acqueous solution as well as smoke; it will not probably be questioned that some of this watery solution is drawn into the mouth as well as the smoke and probably contains minute quantities of nicotine or its derivatives. The smoker may obviate any slight harmful effects of these substances by care. If he is a cigar smoker he must avoid chewing or sucking the butt end of the cigar in which the acqueous solution finally gathers, and he would find it better to smoke long thin cigars which afford a small area behind the burning point for the collection of acqueous vapor and give a better combustion. Judged from these viewpoints the best and most expensive thick cigar is likely to be more harmful than the very worst kind of a cigarette, for although there may be a much smaller percentage of nicotine in the cigar tobacco, a much larger proportion of it may reach the mouth of the smoker through the water produced by combustion, in the case of the cigar than in the case of the cigarette. Every cigar and cigarette smoker should use a holder for the reason stated. The cigarette from the nicotine point of view is the least objectionable form of smoking. In fact expert opinion is recognizing that unless where the smoke is inhaled cigarette smoking if not excessive is probably harmless. It is hard, of course, to kill a popular prejudice, but we have to deal with demonstrated facts not prejudices. In the case of inhalation of cigarette smoke the danger is from carbon monoxide gas and not from nicotine. When the difference of opinion amongst authoritative investigators are discounted their general results will be found to agree very well with the general facts observed by all users of tobacco. What they see is that probably seventy per cent of the adult male population under all conditions and circumstances use tobacco within limits of moderation. They see around them men who have for many years used it, and they do not observe any particular harmful results in the user of tobacco compared with the nonuser. Men as a rule are not more nervous, more subject to heart troubles or age troubles than women, who as a sex, do not use tobacco. Smokers do not deny and never have denied that the abuse of tobacco is harmful. The general view that both scientific investigators and popular observation is able to support is well expressed by Clouston, who is a world known authority on nervous and mental disease. (See _Hygiene of Mind_, 3rd Ed. London, 1906, p. 260.) "If its use is restricted to full grown men, if only good tobacco is used not of too great strength, and if it is not used to excess, then there are no scientific proofs that it has any injurious effects, if there is no idiosyncracy against it.... Speaking generally, it exercises a soothing influence when the nervous system is in any way irritable. It tends to calm and continuous thinking and in many men promotes the digestion of food. "Tobacco, properly used may, in some cases, undoubtedly be made a mental hygienie." Mann (_Brit. Med. Journal_, 1908, V. II, p. 1673), expresses a similar opinion thus: "Most men if they choose to smoke can do so within certain limits without injury to health. Some men can exceed such limits with apparent impunity. The extent of the limitation must be determined by each man for himself." CHAPTER XVIII THE BENEFICIAL EFFECTS OF TOBACCO ITS DISINFECTING ACTION. PROTECTION AGAINST INFECTIOUS DISEASE. PSYCHOLOGICAL EFFECTS OF SMOKING. THE BENEFICIAL QUALITIES OF TOBACCO In the previous chapters the possible harmful effects of using tobacco have been dealt with at length. In this chapter we shall deal shortly with some positive beneficial effects. There is very little doubt that tobacco is a strongly protective agent against infection from disease. Its germicidal qualities are well-known and recognized. It is now recognized by medical writers that the mouth is one of the principal, if not the principal channel of infection for many infective diseases. The cavities of the teeth are the breeding places of hosts of pathogenic bacteria, of which there are about 100 different varieties arising from decaying food and other sources. These destructive agents, many of them highly pathogenic, easily find their way from the mouth through various channels to the inside of the body. Many infective organisms floating in the air are drawn into the mouth in the act of respiration and this is a common method of falling a victim to contagion. The effect of tobacco juice on the bacteria of the human mouth was investigated by Dr. W. D. Fullerton and is reported by him in the _Cleveland Med. Journal_ 1912, page 585. In his experiments Fullerton used tobacco juice obtained from the human mouth by chewing plug tobacco. He also used a solution of smoke obtained from a well seasoned pipe. These were first thoroughly sterilized in order to obtain a pure natural mixture of tobacco and saliva. Cultures of well-known species of bacteria were made using every laboratory precaution so as to obtain accurate results. Specimens of these bacterial cultures were then submitted to the action of the tobacco juice. It was found that exposure for one hour killed or rendered innocuous 15 to 98 per cent of the bacteria; exposure for 24 hours acted similarly on from 84 to 100%. Dr. Fullerton gives his opinion, from his results, that it seems that a pipeful of tobacco was more toxic to bacteria than one chew; but chewing tends to loosen retained food particles, foci of bacteria, etc., and much of this is ejected from the mouth. Fullerton's work agreed very well with the results obtained by other workers in the same line of investigation. In Miller's _Micro-organisms of the Human Mouth_, p. 246, it is stated that the organisms of the mouth lead only a miserable existence in a mixture of an infusion of tobacco, sugar and saliva; and that the smoke of the last one-third or the first one-fourth of a Colorado Claro cigar sterilized ten cubic centimeters of beef extract solution which had been richly inoculated with bacteria from decayed teeth. Arnold, _Lancet_ (London, 1907) reports similar experiences with some of the most virulent types of infective bacteria. Both nicotine and its derivative pyridine as well as the tarry oils resulting from tobacco distillation are strong and effective disinfectants; and formaldehyde, one of the most powerful germicides known, is so formed. Trillat, _Annales de l'Institut Pasteur_ (Paris), Vol. 19, p. 722, shows that 100 grams of pipe tobacco will yield .063 grams and 100 grams weight of cigar .118 grams of formaldehyde. Also that a dilution of 1/1000 formaldehyde is germicidal to all bacteria although it has very little deleterious effects on man. As far as can be ascertained there has not been very much investigation for the purpose of demonstrating the actual results of clinical experience regarding the antiseptic qualities of tobacco in the case of smokers, but facts, so far as they have been recorded, bear out the experiments. Rideal _Disinfection and Preservation of Food_ (London and New York, 1903) states that the investigations of Tessarini showed that tobacco smoke passed over the organisms of human cholera and pneumonia killed them in from 10 to 30 minutes. He also states that the Cigar Manufacturers Association of Hamburg reported that in the cholera epidemic of 1892 in that city, only 8 out of 5,000 employes in the cigar factories there were attacked by the disease and that, there were only 4 deaths. Professor Wenck, of the Imperial Institute of Berlin, has published an account of this cholera epidemic (see _Laucett francaise_, Paris, 1912, p. 1425). His conclusions favor the preservative action of tobacco. It was clearly shown that slightly moist tobacco was a fatal germicide for the cholera bacillus; all microbes die in it in 24 hours. The examination of cigars made in Hamburg during the epidemic showed that they were absolutely free from bacilli. Wenck asserts also that cholera microbes die in 1/2 hour, 1 hour, and 2 hours after having been placed in contact with the smoke of Brazilian, Sumatran and Havana tobacco. The fumes of tobacco will besides kill in five minutes the cholera microbes obtained from saliva. Fullerton already quoted examined a small number of mouths (74) in the Johns Hopkins Hospital at Baltimore. Of those who did not use tobacco in any form a larger percentage showed signs of dental caries and decay of an advanced stage than in the case of tobacco users. Similarly in the case of women who never used tobacco; and, although there was a much greater care and cleansing of the teeth, yet the percentage of decay and disease was higher than in the case of men using tobacco. Fullerton says, "The smoking or chewing of tobacco is decidedly germicidal. Chewing, by exercising the teeth, helps nutrition and eliminates pathological agencies both by destroying them _in situ_ and by removing them in the expectoration." Rideal (already quoted) mentions that Dr. Burney, the senior medical officer of Greenwich Hospital, London, asserts that the tobacco smoking inmates of that institution enjoyed comparative immunity from epidemics. From these opinions and examples it seems quite clear that whatever portions of the decomposition products of tobacco reach the mouth and mix with the saliva, or propagate themselves in the immediate surroundings of the smoker, are likely to have extremely good effects. It would be easy to multiply these opinions but there is no use laboring the argument. There is a matter, however, it will do no harm to mention here. Today it is being gradually recognized by the medical profession that the conditions which lead ultimately to gastric and intestinal ulcer including appendicitis are entirely due to infection. At the 1912 meeting of the British Medical Association this was clearly manifested and some of the leading authorities in England pointed out the importance of the mouth as a focus of infection in such diseases. Now if this is so, it is at once apparent how important tobacco as a mouth disinfectant and germicide becomes; and it may incidentally throw some light (otherwise unexplained) on the fact constantly observed that in persons under 30 years old these diseases are far more common amongst women than in the case of men. The use of tobacco is not asserted as a reason, but it may be. With regard to other beneficial effects--Clouston, Fullerton and Marvin, state that the moderate use of tobacco has a beneficial effect on the digestive system as in general it causes an increased flow of saliva and gastric juice which helps in the digestion of food; it also stimulates the muscles and mucous membrane of the stomach and intestines. The sedative effects of tobacco on the nerves is a preventative of nervous dyspepsia and is valuable for the promotion of good digestion. While much has been written on the effects of excessive smoking on the nervous system little has been said of the good effects of moderate smoking. Every smoker realizes that the soothing effects of tobacco on the nerves is perhaps its most valuable property. Clouston's opinion, already quoted (and none could be better), is that "tobacco exercises a soothing influence when the nervous system is in anyway irritable; it tends to calm and continuous thinking." Fullerton says, "It gives a composure and feeling of well-being which are beneficial to mind and body." Of these facts there can be no doubt because they are matters of common daily observation and experience. Most smokers find a solace and quieting influence from their evening smoke after the worries of a troublesome day which no other agent can give them. The effect produced may be partly psychological but that does not matter. Indeed the strenuousness of life in the age in which we live seems to demand such a help and nothing appears to supply the want so efficiently, so pleasantly, and with less harm, than a quiet smoke. It puts the smoker at peace with himself and at peace with others. Bush found in his investigations on the mental effects of tobacco on college students that there was a temporary loss of ten per cent in mental efficiency in certain faculties of the mind. This is probably true enough though his results are not quite conclusive. On the other hand many men find that they can think more clearly and more consecutively when helped by a smoke. Indeed they smoke when they have a knotty problem to solve. The point need not be argued; all smokers will agree with it. Judged from a psychological standpoint the effects of tobacco are entirely favorable. To the sleepless, the worried, to him who is troubled in mind or vexed in spirit, the pipe or cigar is a never-failing remedy to soothe and cheer. It is the feeling of betterment which it engenders and the spirit of good will which tobacco creates that are responsible for its universal use by men differing widely in grade and condition of life as well as in mental caliber; it reaches the common springs which move humanity; its qualities are those which have made the pipe a symbol of peace and a bond of fellowship and union between man and man from Pole to Pole. From a general summing up of the opinions which have been quoted the question might finally be asked, "Is tobacco on the whole harmful or beneficial to its users?" The answer seems to be this: "Tobacco to the extent used on the average has some slight injurious effects and some slight beneficial effects on the physical system. It is an excellent preservative agent against contagious and infectious disease. Mentally its effects are overwhelmingly beneficial." In every particular case a man must judge for himself, taking account of his individual idiosyncrasies and conditions whether the use of tobacco is beneficial to him or otherwise. REFERENCES _Laucet._ London, 1906. Vol. I, p. 984. _The germ-destroying properties of tobacco._ ARNOLD, M. B. _On the effects of the Exposure of Tobacco Smoke on the growth of pathogenic micro-organisms._ _Laucet._ London, 1907. Vol. I, p. 1220. MURRAY, J. C. _Smoking; when injurious, when innocuous, when beneficial._ London, 1871. LEZARS, I. _The use and abuse of Tobacco._ Philadelphia, 1883. CHAPTER XIX MISCELLANEOUS REVENUE, TAXATION, ETC., IN CONNECTION WITH TOBACCO. FREE IMPORTS. DISEASES OF TOBACCO. TOBACCO FLAVORS. FORMULAE. NOTES The "per capita" consumption of tobacco in the U. S. has increased from 1.6 lbs. in 1863 to between 5 and 6 lbs. at the present time. * * * * * At the present time the United States collects about 70 million dollars annually from domestic taxation on manufactured tobacco; and, in addition, about 25 million in import duties. The actual total income from tobacco in 1912 was 96 million dollars. For the fiscal year ending June 30, 1913, tax was paid on the following "withdrawn for consumption": Cigars weighing more than 3 lbs. per thousand, 7,699,037,543. Cigars weighing less than 3 lbs. per thousand, 1,033,778,160. Cigarettes weighing more than 3 lbs. per thousand, 18,194,311. Cigarettes weighing less than 3 lbs. per thousand, 14,276,771,160. Snuff, lbs., 33,209,488. Tobacco, chewing and smoking, lbs., 401,362,620. * * * * * In France, Spain, Austria, Italy and other countries the government has a monopoly over the manufacture and sale of tobacco products. Purchase of leaf in the U. S. is made through government agents. * * * * * The quantities of tobacco which may be imported "free of duty" into European countries is as follows: Austro-Hungary--12 cigars, 35 grams tobacco. Belgium-None. Bulgaria--50 cigars, 50 cigarettes, 50 grams tobacco. Denmark--None. Egypt--25 cigars, 100 cigarettes, 200 grams tobacco. France--80 cigars, 300 cigarettes. Germany--Enough for immediate use. Great Britain--12 cigars, 20 cigarettes. Holland--None. Italy--6 cigars, 15 cigarettes. Norway--100 cigars. Portugal--None. Russia--100 cigars, 100 cigarettes, 100 grams tobacco. Spain--None. Sweden--None. Turkey--None. * * * * * In U. S. 50 cigars and 300 cigarettes may be imported free. * * * * * Small variations in the cost of manufacture (including the cost of leaf), which do not exceed 10%, are usually borne by the manufacturer, and do not affect the price to the consumer. But increase in taxation, either internal revenue or tariff, usually occasions a diminution in consumption as it invariably increases the cost. THE DISEASES OF TOBACCO DUE TO INSECT PESTS, ETC. Tobacco, from the seed bed to the storage of the manufactured products, is subject to attack by insects, etc., and vigilance must at all times be exercised to keep it free from such harmful influences. Only a few of the principal agencies attacking tobacco will be mentioned here as the subject is of more interest to the specialist than to the smoker. The growing plant is particularly subject to Cut-worm disease and Horn-worm disease. _Cut-worms_ are the larvae of several species of moths. They injure the young, tender plant and feed on the leaves. _Horn-worms_ are the larvae of the Sphinx Moth. 2 or 3 will ruin a plant in one day. Stored tobacco is subject to many diseases. _Bud caterpillars_, the _leaf-miner_ or _split-worm_ and the _Tobacco flea beetle_ are minute beetles which attack it. _Mosaic disease_, _Frog-eye_ or _Leaf-spot_ are probably bacterial diseases. In addition, tobacco, particularly during the curing process, is subject to pole-burn, pole-sweat, or house-burn, stem-rot, white-vein, and various forms of mould, all these being probably due to bacteria. For additional information see: U. S. DEPT. OF AGRICULTURE. _Farmers' Bulletin_, 120. HOWARD, L. O. _The principal insects affecting the tobacco plant._ Washington, D. C., 1900. U. S. DEPT. OF AGRICULTURE. _Bureau of Entomology._ Bulletin 65. SPECKLED OR SPOTTED CIGARS Many smokers of cigars have the idea that there is some special virtue in a cigar that shows specks or spots of discoloration in the leaf. As a matter of fact such spots have nothing whatever to do with the quality of the tobacco. The occurrence of such spots is accounted for differently. Some say the spots are due to certain bacteria which attack the leaf either when growing or fermenting and this most probably is the correct view. Others say that the spots are due to rain drops which, sprinkled on the leaves, act as lenses and concentrate the rays of the sun, thus causing a burning of the leaf in such spots. Some think the spots are caused by a worm. On account of the prejudice of smokers for speckled cigars dealers have been known to produce this appearance in the leaf artificially. There are different methods although resort is not often had at the present time to this practice as the belief in this sign is no longer as prevalent as formerly. The following are examples of such cigar speckling preparation, the chief ingredient being some active oxidizing agent: Cigar speckling fluid: (Method 1.) Powdered Ammonium Carbonate and a concentrated solution of (H{2}O{2}). Dissolve one part of the Ammonium Carbonate in 25 parts of the (H{2}O{2}). Touch the cigar with this in spots with the end of a pointed stick. This gives the appearance of speckled Sumatran leaf. (Method 2.) The following method is said to be used by a large firm: Sodium Carbonate--3 parts. Chlorinated Lime--1 part. Hot Water--8 parts. Dissolve the washing soda in the hot water, add the chlorinated lime, and heat to the boiling point. When cool decant and cork tightly. This is sprinkled over the tobacco.--From _American Druggist_, Vol. 83, p. 328. Specks are sometimes caused by fluids used to destroy insects which attack the cigar after manufacture. TOBACCO FLAVORING ESSENCES In the chapter treating of the manufacture of smoking and chewing tobacco it was stated that the tobacco leaf was often treated by certain flavoring essences. The following are quoted as examples of such essences: Cascarilla Bark--1 ounce. Fluid Extract Valerian--1 ounce. Tonka Bean--2 drams. English Rum--3 ounces. --From _Pharmaceutical Era_, V. 21, 1899, p. 252. The following essences are said to be used in France and Germany: (1) For every 1,000 kilos. of tobacco take 4 kilos. of purified potash; 5 kilos. table salt; 10 kilos. canella water; 10 kilos. rose water; 5 kilos. melilotte water; 2.8 grams tonka bean; pulverized. Color the whole with 4 grams English red. Add when the tobacco is cut up. (2) 12 kilos. soda; 4 kilos. salts of tartar; 10 kilos. canella water; 10 kilos. rose water; 5 kilos. melilotte water; 2.8 grams tonka bean; 4 kilos. simple syrup; 5 kilos. French brandy; 6 kilos. red sandal wood.--From _Pharmaceutical Era_, V. 24, p. 67. CIGAR FLAVORS Although the best cigars are made from the natural leaf and depend solely on its flavor and aroma, in the inferior article manufacturers sometimes resort to flavoring fluids. The following examples of cigar flavoring fluid formulae are taken from the _Pharmaceutical Era_, V. 24, p. 455: _Formula 1._ Extr. Vanilla--1/2 gal. Alcohol and Jamaica Rum,--each, 1/2 gal. Tinct. Valerian--8 ounces. Carraway Seed--2 ounces. English Valerian Root--2 ounces. Bitter Orange Peel--2 ounces. Tonka Bean--4 drams. Myrrh--16 ounces. _Formula 2._ Valerianic Acid--3 drams. Acetic Ether--40 minims. Butyric Ether--10 minims. Alcohol--4 pints. _Formula 3._ Fluid Extr. Valerian--1 ounce. Tinct. Tonka Bean--8 ounces. Alcohol--enough to make 16 ounces. FORMULA TO IMPROVE THE BURNING QUALITIES OF TOBACCO 2 lbs. of Saltpeter. Half gallon of Alcohol (100% proof). 1 gallon Port Wine. 9 gallons Lukewarm Water. Mix these ingredients thoroughly together, and add to every 100 lbs. weight of tobacco. OVERCOMING DESIRE FOR TOBACCO (From _The American Druggist_, V. 51, 1908.) Kalometzer (Bulletin Medical, 1907) states that rinsing mouth with solution of silver nitrate (1/4 of 1% strength) will overcome the desire. PREVENTING INJURIOUS ACTION OF NICOTINE A process for the treatment of tobacco leaves preventing in a way injurious action of nicotine and of acrid empyreumatic acid products, was devised some years ago by Professor Gerold of Halle. His process is thus described: He employs for 8 kilograms of tobacco leaves containing the usual percentage of nicotine a decoction prepared by boiling 15 grams of tannic acid with 1-1/2 kilograms of water until the weight is reduced to one kilogram; then 30 grams of the essential oil of origanum vulgare are added, after which the decoction is immediately removed from the fire. Having stood for some minutes the mixture is filtered and allowed to cool to about 16° C., when the preparation is ready to be spread over the previously weighed tobacco. When the absorption of this mixture by the tobacco leaves is completed, they are subjected to slight pressure and moderate heat, after which they are ready for the manufacture of the various tobacco products. * * * * * Tannic acid is a well-known antidote for nicotine poisoning, and it is claimed for Gerold's process that while the undistilled nicotine is neutralized in its toxic qualities only by the tannic acid, that this does not influence at all its peculiar odor nor most of its other characteristics.--From the _Pharmaceutical Era_, July 27, 1899, p. 144. * * * * * Havana cigars are generally better if smoked fresh; domestic cigars are better if allowed to age in the box several months before using. * * * * * Remember that the phosphorus or sulphur of a match may spoil the flavor of a fine cigar. Be careful when you are lighting it to use only the edge of the match flame. * * * * * If the total number of cigars smoked annually in the United States were placed end to end they would encircle the whole world more than twenty times. INDEX Air Curing of Leaf, 66 Amber, 162 American Production of Tobacco Other Than in U. S., 35 Analysis of Tobacco, 55 Asia, Production of Tobacco in, 31 Bacterial Diseases, Effects of Tobacco on, 197 Blends of Tobacco, How Made, 78 Briar Root, 158 Cancer and Tobacco, 180 Chemical Constituents of Tobacco, 55 Chewing Tobaccos, 128 Cigar and Cigarette Holders, Value of, 191 Cigar Business in U. S., 96 Cigar Flavors, 215 Cigar Leaf Tobacco Grown in U. S., 119 Cigarette Paper, 139 Cigarette Smoking, Criticisms of, 140 Cigarettes, American, 138 Cigarettes, Kinds of, 134 Cigarettes, Nicotine in Smoke of, 187 Cigarettes, Statistics, 133 Cigarettes, Turkish, 135 Cigarettes, Turkish, Manufactured in the U. S., 137 Cigars, Classification of, 104 Cigars, Composition of, 113 Cigars, Desirable Qualities of, 113 Cigars, Hand-made, 101 Cigars, History, 95 Cigars, Imported Kinds, in U. S., 114 Cigars, Machine-made, 103 Cigars, Manufactured in U. S., 117 Cigars, Speckles or Spots on, 212 Cigars, Statistics of Production and Consumption in U. S., 96 Cigars, Various Terms Regarding, 107 Coloring Meerschaum Pipes, 169 Consumption of Tobacco in U. S., 92 Cuban Cigar Leaf, 118 Cuban Tobacco, 35 Curing of Tobacco Leaf, 63 Digestive System and Use of Tobacco, 202 Diseases of Tobacco Leaf, 211 Disinfecting Action of Tobacco, 199 East Indian Tobacco, 38 Europe, Production of Tobacco, 32 Exportation of Tobacco from U. S., 91 Eyes and Use of Tobacco, 189 Fermentation of Tobacco, Action of Microbes, 81 Fermentation of Tobacco, Chemistry, 80 Fermentation of Tobacco Leaf, 79 Flavoring Essences, 214 Flue Curing of Leaf, 65 Hand-made Cigars, 101 Havana Cigars, 115 Holders for Cigars and Cigarettes, Value of, 191 Infection, Value of Tobacco Smoking Against, 197 Insects Affecting Tobacco Leaf, 211 Life Insurance and Tobacco, 188 Machine-made Cigars, 103 Manufactured Products of Tobacco in U. S., Statistics, 89 Meerschaum, 155 Microbes, Action in Fermentation of Tobacco, 81 Mind, Effects of Tobacco Smoking, 202 Mouthpiece of Pipes, Importance, 161 Nerves, Effect of Tobacco Smoking on, 202 Nicotine, 57 Nicotine, Amount in Tobacco Smoke, 183 Nicotine Contents of Tobaccos, 185 Nicotine Effects on Human System, 182 Open Fire Method of Curing Leaf, 65 Packing of Tobacco Leaf for Market, 69 Perique Tobacco, 50, 125 Philippine Cigars, 117 Pipe Smoking Tobaccos, Kinds of, 124 Pipe Smoking Tobacco, Qualities of, 123 Pipe Stem, Importance, 161 Pipes, Briar Root, Making of, 159 Pipes, Care of, 167 Pipes, History of, 151 Pipes, Importation of, Into U. S., 166 Pipes, Materials Used in Making, 154 Pipes, Meerschaum, Coloring, 169 Pipes, Meerschaum, Making of, 156 Pipes, Special Kinds of, 164 Plug Tobacco for Chewing, 128 Potash, Importance in Tobacco, 59 Psychological Effects of Tobacco Smoking, 202 Rehandling of Tobacco Leaf, 77 Revenue Derived from Tobacco, 209 Shade Grown Tobacco, 25 Smoke, Tobacco, Nicotine in, 187 Snuff, Manufacture, Statistics and Kinds, 145 Soils, Influence on Quality of Tobacco, 22 Suchsland's Experiments With Bacteria on Tobacco Leaf, 81 Sumatran Cigar Leaf, 118 Teeth and Tobacco, 201 Terms Used in Cigar Trade, 107 Throat Diseases Due to Use of Tobacco, 179 Tobacco, Analysis of Contents, 55 Tobacco, Botanical Information, 15 Tobacco, Burning Qualities of, 216 Tobacco, Culture, 21 Tobacco, Denicotianized, 216 Tobacco, Effects of on Body, 173 Tobacco, Exportation from U. S., 91 Tobacco, Flavoring Essences, 214 Tobacco, Free Importation in Different Countries, 210 Tobacco, History, 13 Tobacco Leaf, Prices of, 71 Tobacco Manufacturing Industry, Capital, etc., 89 Tobacco Plant, Varieties, 16 Treatment of Leaf Before Manufacture, 82 Turkish Tobacco, 34 United States, Production of Tobacco, 41 Varieties, Botanical of, Tobacco Plant, 16 Varieties of American Grown Tobacco Leaf, 44, 46 Vulcanite, as Pipe Stem Material, 163 Warehouse System of Sale of Tobacco Leaf, 70 Water Pipes, 165 Yellowing of Tobacco Leaf, 27 Transcriber's Notes: Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. Subscripted characters are indicated by {subscript}. The use of the ounce symbol is represented in this text as [ounce]. The following misprints have been corrected: "Moveover" corrected to "Moreover" (page 14) "posesses" corrected to "possesses" (page 37) "is" corrected to "in" (page 41) "5 five" corrected to "5" (page 65) "tabacco" corrected to "tobacco" (page 66) "Suchslanl" corrected to "Suchsland" (page 85) "filled" corrected to "filler" (page 116) "orginally" corrected to "originally" (page 119) "(4)" added (page 124) "on" corrected to "or" (page 127) "ingrediants" corrected to "ingredients" (page 128) "Dunham" corrected to "Durham" (page 134) "know" corrected to "known" (page 154) "junipe" corrected to "juniper" (page 155) "MgSi_{2}04" corrected to "MgSi_{2}O_{4}" (page 155) "work" corrected to "word" (page 155) "stearie" corrected to "stearic" (page 158) "batter" corrected to "better" (page 165) "occuring" corrected to "occurring" (page 181) "pirty" corrected to "dirty" (page 181) "mode" corrected to "made" (page 185) "of" corrected to "or" (page 212) "Mot" corrected to "Hot" (page 213) "Druggest" corrected to "Druggist" (page 214) Other than the corrections listed above, spelling inconsistencies have been retained from the original.