From "A Paper of Tobacco,"[63] we extract the following humorous description of Yankee cigar smokers, which to a certain extent is true to life, but like most of the articles descriptive of American life by English Authors, who travel in America and write a book afterwards, it is exaggerated or overdrawn:
An American Smoker.
"The Americans, who pride themselves on being the fastest-going people on the 'versal globe'—who build steamers that can out-paddle the sea-serpent and breed horses that can trot faster than an ostrich can run—are, undoubtedly, entitled to take precedence of all nations as consumers of the weed. The sedentary Turk, who smokes from morn to night, does not, on an average, get through so much tobacco per annum, as a right slick, active, go-ahead Yankee, who thinks nothing, 'upon his own relation,' of felling a wagon-load of timber before breakfast, or of cutting down a couple of acres corn before dinner. The Americans, it is to be observed, generally smoke cigars; and tobacco in this form burns very fast away in the open air, more especially when the consumer is rapidly locomotive, whether upon his own legs, the back of a horse, the top of a coach, the deck of a steamboat, or in an open railway carriage. The habit of chewing tobacco is also prevalent in 'the States,' nor is it, as in Great Britain and Ireland, almost entirely confined to the poorer classes. Members of the House of Representatives and of the Senate, doctors, judges, barristers, and attorneys chew tobacco almost as generally as the laboring classes in the old country. Even in a court of justice, more especially in the Western States, it is no unusual thing to see judge, jury, and the gentlemen of the bar, all chewing and spitting as liberally as the crew of a homeward-bound West Indiaman. It must indeed be confessed that Brother Jonathan loves tobacco 'not wisely but too well,' and that the habits which are induced by his manner of using it are far from 'elegant.' The truth is, he neither smokes nor chews like a gentleman; he lives in a land of liberty, and takes his tobacco when and where he pleases. He spits as freely as he smokes and chews—upon the carpet or in the fire-place—for he is not particular as to where he squirts his copious saliva, and does not think with the late Dr. Samuel Parr, that a spitting-box is a necessary article of household furniture. The free-born citizen of the States laughs at the aristocratic restrictions imposed on smoking in England, where, on board of the numerous steamboats that ply on the Thames, conveying the pride of the city to Gravesend and Margate, no smoking is allowed abaft the funnel, and where, in public-houses ashore, no gentleman is permitted to smoke in the parlor before two o'clock in the afternoon. A pipe of tobacco, or a cigar, after a day's hard exercise, whether mental or bodily, and after the cravings of hunger and thirst are appeased, may be fairly ranked amongst the most delightful and most harmless of all earthly luxuries. It fills the mind with pleasing visions, and the heart with kindly feelings. A hard-working laborer, smoking by the side of his hearth at night, presents a perfect picture of quiet enjoyment. I see him now in my mind's eye. He is seated in an old high-backed, cushionless arm-chair, but an easy one, nevertheless, to him, who from dawn till sunset, has been engaged in ploughing, thrashing, ditching, or mowing. With one leg thrown over the other, he quietly reclines backward, and with an expression of perfect mental composure, he gazes on the smoke that ascends from his pipe. There is a sentiment-exciting power[64] in the smoke of tobacco when perceived by the eye, as well as a pleasing sedative effect when inhaled; and those smokers who have any doubt of the fact should take a pipe with their eyes closed. A person who smokes with his eyes shut cannot very well tell whether his cigar is lighted or not. How soothing is a pipe or a cigar to a wearied sportsman, on his return to his inn from the moors! As he sits quietly smoking, he thinks of the absent friends whom he will gratify with presents of grouse; and, in a state of perfect contentment with himself and all the world, he determines to give all his game away. Full of such kindly feelings, he retires to bed; but, alas, with day-light, when the effect of the tobacco has subsided, the old leaven of selfishness prevails, and his good intentions are abandoned. 'Mary,' said an old Cumberland farmer to his daughter, when she was once asking him to buy her a new beaver, 'why dost thou always tease me about such things when I'm quietly smoking my pipe?' 'Because ye are always best-tempered then, feyther,' was the reply. 'I believe, lass, thou's reet,' rejoined the farmer; 'for when I was a lad, I remember that my poor feyther was just the same; after he had smoked a pipe or twee he wad ha' gi'en his head away if it had been loose.'"
The following ode to a Cigar is no doubt familiar to many, yet will pay a re-perusal:
"And oft, mild friend, to me thou art
A monitor, though still;
Thou speak'st a lesson to my heart
Beyond the preacher's skill.
"Thou'rt like the man of worth, who gives
To goodness every day,
The odor of whose virtues lives
When he has passed away.
"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 thy snowy column grows,
Then breaks and falls away,
I trace how mighty realms thus rose,
Thus trembled to decay.