England,' was a tremendous smoker. Moore cared not for it;
indeed, I think that Irish gentlemen smoke much less than
English. Wellington shunned it; so did Peel. D'Israeli loved
the long pipe in his youth, but in middle age pronounced it
'the tomb of love.' While I am writing, it is not too much
to aver that 99 persons out of 100, taken at random, under
forty years of age, smoke habitually every day of their
lives. How many in Melbourne injure wealth and brain, I
leave to more skilled and morose critics. But my mind
misgives me. Paralysis is becoming very frequent.

"I have seen stone pipes from Gambia, shaped like the letter
U consisting each of one solid flint, hollowed through,
also hookahs made by sailors with cocoanut shells. All,
however, now agree that it is impossible to have either
comfortable, cool, or safe smoking, unless through a
substance like clay, porous and absorbent, especially as
portable pipes are the mode. Those of black charcoal are not
handsome; indeed, I always feel like a mute at a funeral
while smoking one, but they are delightfully cool, absorbing
more essential oil of nicotine, and more quickly than any
meerschaum. I caution the smoker to have an old glove on; as
these pipes 'sweat,' the oil comes through, and nothing is
more pertinacious than oil of tobacco when it sinks into
your pores, or floats about hair or clothes. My own taste
inclines to the German receiver, long cherry tube and amber,
and to my own garden, for all street smoking is unaesthetic,
and the traveller by coach, boat, or rail has the tastes of
others to consult. Surely it is not urbane to throw on
another the burden of saying that he likes not the smell or
the inhaling of burning tobacco. Better postpone your solace
to more fitting time and place--the close of day and your
own veranda. Indoor smoking is detestable. Life has few
direr disenchanters than the morning smells of obsolete
tobacco, relics though they be of hesternal beatitude. Give
me, in robe or jacket, a hookah, or German arrangement,
Chinese recumbency in matted and moistened veranda, and the
odors of fresh growing beds of flowers wafted by the
southern breeze. Nor be wanting the fragrant perfume of
coffee. 'Meat without salt,' says Hafiz, 'is even as tobacco
with