498 A Chapter on Cigars. [MAY, 



smoke is stupifying and injurious, and that snuff produces sickness and 

 intoxication, we should make a very pantomimic, but at the same time, 

 a very philosophic reply. We should venture to hand him a cigar from 

 Gliddon's, and beg that he would do us the favour to take a pinch out 

 of our private box. This is the argument we should resort to, and we 

 think it would induce him to publish an erratum to his next edition. If 

 he declined, we would ask him, while he objected to tobacco as a soother 

 or a stimulant, what he thought of it as a convenience ! What awkward 

 pauses would sometimes occur in conversation, and what slumbers would 

 steal occasionally over our studies, if Sir Francis Drake's antipodes were 

 to rise, and carry the glorious weed out of England. We would rather 

 (Rothschild forgive us !), that the Bank should stop payment. Society 

 could not go on. Old Time would stand still, and, taking a pinch of sand, 

 turn his hour-glass into a snuff-box. 



A snuff-box is a letter of introduction ; it has been the fountain of 

 many friendships. When you cannot ask a stranger his opinion of the 

 new opera or the new ministry, you can offer him your box, with a grace- 

 ful as well as a profitable politeness. Even when the weather and other 

 popular topics are exhausted, a pinch is always eloquent, always conver- 

 sational, always convenient. And as for a cigar, it is the very symbol 

 of congeniality. You sit in a circle, and the smoke rises up in a visible 

 union : It is like the meeting of souls. If you have nothing to say, it 

 discourses with a sage and silent wisdom ; if otherwise, it gives an ele- 

 gant turn to your sentences, and comes in at a pause like a note of admi- 

 ration ! There is much virtue in a whiff. 



If we were in possession of another mulberry- tree, we would have it 

 all turned into snuff-boxes, as the truest compliment that could be paid 

 to the spirit of Shakspeare. And assuredly we would rather have the 

 broken bowl of thy pipe, Tobias Shandy, or even a grain or two of the 

 ashes that it held, than the arrow that pierced Achilles, or a lock of 

 Caesar's hair. 



We are well aware that there are learned men still living who contend 

 that there is no enjoyment in life ; but then it is quite clear that they 

 have never been to the cigar divan in King-street. Once let them taste 

 the magic of a richly flavoured leaf, over a cup of coffee and a magazine 

 just published, and the next treatise they may write will tell a tale mar- 

 vellously different. They will then find out that a cigar and coffee are 

 the true Sublime and Beautiful. B. 



