AN OCTOBER ABROAD 147 



and disappeared, and the Nelson Column in Tra- 

 falgar Square was obliterated for half its length. 

 Travel was impeded, boats stopped on the river, 

 trains stood still on the track, and for an hour and a 

 half London lay buried beneath this sickening erup- 

 tion. I say eruption, because a London fog is only 

 a London smoke tempered by a moist atmosphere. 

 It is called "fog" by courtesy, but lampblack is its 

 chief ingredient. It is not wet like our fogs, but 

 quite dry, and makes the eyes smart and the nose 

 tingle. Whenever the sun can be seen through it, 

 his face is red and dirty; seen through a bona fide 

 fog, his face is clean and white. English coal — or 

 " coals " as they say here — in burning gives out 

 an enormous quantity of thick, yellowish smoke, 

 which is at no time absorbed or dissipated as it 

 would be in our hard, dry atmosphere, and which 

 at certain times is not absorbed at all, but falls down 

 swollen and augmented by the prevailing moisture. 

 The atmosphere of the whole island is more or less 

 impregnated with smoke, even on the fairest days, 

 and it becomes more and more dense as you approach 

 the great towns. Yet this compound of smut, fog, 

 and common air is an elixir of youth; and this is 

 one of the surprises of London, to see amid so much 

 soot and dinginess such fresh, blooming complexions, 

 and in general such a fine physical tone and full- 

 bloodedness among the people, — such as one has 

 come to associate only with the best air and the 

 purest, wholesomest country influences. What the 

 secret of it may be, I am at a loss to know, unless 



