anion possible, and in company never de trop. To a student it
suggests all sorts of agreeable thoughts, it refreshes the brain when
weary, and every sedentary cigar-smoker will tell you how much good he
has had from it, and how he has been able to return to his labor, after
a quarter of an hour's mild interval of the delightful leaf of Havana.
Drinking has gone from among us since smoking came in. It is a wicked
error to say that smokers are drunkards; drink they do, but of gentle
diluents mostly, for fierce stimulants of wine or strong liquors are
abhorrent to the real lover of the Indian weed. Ah! my Juliana, join
not in the vulgar cry that is raised against us. Cigars and cool drinks
beget quiet conversations, good-humor, meditation; not hot blood such as
mounts into the head of drinkers of apoplectic port or dangerous claret.
Are we not more moral and reasonable than our forefathers? Indeed I
think so somewhat; and many improvements of social life and converse
must date with the introduction of the pipe.

We were a dozen tobacco-consumers in the wagon of the train that brought
us from Antwerp; nor did the women of the party (sensible women!) make a
single objection to the fumigation. But enough of this; only let me add,
in conclusion, that an excellent Israelitish gentleman, Mr. Hartog
of Antwerp, supplies cigars for a penny apiece, such as are not to be
procured in London for four times the sum.

Through smiling corn-fields, then, and by little woods from which rose
here and there the quaint peaked towers of some old-fashioned chateaux,
our train went smoking along at thirty miles an hour. We caught a
glimpse of Mechlin steeple, at first dark against the sunset, and
afterwards bright as we came to the other side of it, and admired long
glistening canals or moats that surrounded the queer old town, and were
lighted up in that wonderful way which the sun only understands, and
not even Mr. Turner, with all his vermilion and gamboge, can put down
on canvas. The verdure was everywhere astonishing, and we fancied we saw
many golden Cuyps as we passed by these quiet pastures.

Steam-engines and their accompaniments, blazing forges, gaunt
manufactories, with numberless windows and long black chimneys, of
course take away from the romance of the place but, as we whirled into
Brussels, even these engines had a fine appearance. Three or four of the
snorting, galloping monsters had just finished their journey, and there
was