"A few days ago, I mentioned the above anecdote in the house of a farmer. 'Why,' said the farmer, 'I could never have thought that 7_d._ a week would have come to so much.--Do you know my wife and I can assure you, that awhile back, we smoked an ounce a day.' 'An ounce a day,' said I, (_the echo!_) 'What is tobacco an ounce?' (_ignoramus!--we thought he knew not the value of what he attempts to depreciate_). 'Four-pence,' said he. 'Four-pence an ounce, and an ounce in the day, that is 2_s._ 4_d._ per week, and 52 weeks in the year will be the sum of 6_l._ and 4_d._ annually.--O Sir!--I am very sorry for you.'"--(_kind hearted soul!_) Pursuing his system, apparently, of poking his head into the affairs of country farmers, he gives us another trite anecdote, too rich a _morceau_ to be passed in silence; since it so admirably serves to shew the estimation the pipe is held in by the true representatives of John Bull. "Since I commenced writing of this, I had occasion to call upon a respectable farmer, who is a member of your society--(_we smell a rat_)--and a leader I suppose, greatly esteemed by his neighbours, who certainly have the best opportunity of knowing him as a truly pious, and useful man. Almost immediately after we were seated, he called for his pipe (for some people cannot be cheerful or make a wise bargain--_symptoms of the shop_)--unless their heads are enveloped in smoke. 'Now, Sir,' said he, 'can you smoke any, will you have a pipe?' 'No, Sir,' said I, 'I never smoked a pipe in all my life;'--(_miserable man! this he says doubtless by way of shewing his Christian self-denial_). 'I have for a long time considered it sinful, and therefore I never smoke.' 'Sinful,' said he, laughing--(_jolly fellow!_)--'how can it be sinful?' 'Because,' said I, 'it wastes our power of doing good. Did you never consider that.' Upon this his wife who was sitting by, pleasantly observed, 'Our John is a terrible smoker'--(_worthy man!_)--'For goodness sake don't make him believe that it is sinful to smoke. If he can't get his pipe, we shall have no peace: he'll be quite out of temper.' 'Nay,' said I, 'surely not out of temper.' 'Yes, for sure, out of temper enough,--quite peevish and fretful.' 'Now,' said John, 'how thou talks my dear.' 'Talk! why is it not true? Thou wants it first thing in the morning--then again at breakfast time--then again at noon, and then again at night--just as it happens. Why, I'll warrant you (turning to me) he has seven or eight pipes in a day, and sometimes more,'--(_sensible man!_)--'Perhaps,' said I, 'he's sick, and smokes for his health.' 'Nay, nay, sick, bless him! he's none sick, he has got a habit of it you see, and so he thinks he wants it. Oh, he must have his pipe--he can't do without his pipe--sin in it! nay, surely it cannot be sinful.' (_He concludes with his favorite computation_). Upon inquiry, I found, that though the only smoker in the family, yet at a moderate reckoning, he contrives to consume about 5_l._