"Sometimes, when the first impression has been rather unpleasing, a custom has been acquired, because, afterward, it had been found pleasing or advantageous. Thus there are many kinds of food, which were originally ungrateful, but are now esteemed delicious. Port wine is nauseous for a child, but it is pleasing to the taste of a person who has been accustomed to it. Smoking, the taking of snuff, and masticating of tobacco, with many other useless and dirty customs, are not produced by the pleasing influence of novelty; but they are rather opposed to it. They arise principally from the inclination of following injurious examples. In some cases ladies have set their faces against such customs, and have prohibited the practice among those who would gain their esteem: in other cases they have been more lenient, because they have found that a flame of love may burn amid volumes of smoke from cigars or tobacco-pipes. Novelty has occasioned a sensation of unpleasantness, with regard to particular modes of dress; but afterward these fashions have become necessary to our comfort. "In some instances, the very things which we commonly hate most, become essential to our happiness. When Louis XVI. ascended the throne of France, the doors of some of the dark cells in the Bastile were opened, and the hapless residents were allowed once more to breathe the pure air of heaven. Among the rest, there was one man who had been immured for nearly fifty years in a wretched cell, the area of which was so small as scarcely to allow him room to move about; but, having a vigorous body and a firm mind, he supported himself, until he had almost forgotten the world in which he lived, having had no intercourse with any one but the jailer, who brought him his daily food. When he received the summons to depart, which seemed like a message in a dream, he was astonished; but when he walked through the spacious passages and the open courts, and saw the heavens extended above him, and the sun shining in his splendor, he was overcome by his feelings. He could badly walk, and badly speak, and he seemed as if he had entered a new world. He went into the city, and found the street in which he had formerly lived, but his friends were dead; there was no living being in the world that knew him, and the poor man wept with sorrow. He was a stranger in a strange country. He went to the minister who had given him his freedom, and said: 'Sir, I can bear to die, but to live in a world unknown and forlorn, the last human being of my race, is insupportable; do, therefore, send me to my cell, that I may finish my days there!' No blessing of Providence will be felt as a benefit, unless it be possessed by a person for whom it is adapted.