Such was the style of Ben's rhetoric with old Keimer. But it could not all do. For though these harangues would sometimes make him fancy himself as big as Zoroaster or Confucius, and talk as if he should soon have the whole country running after him, and worshipping him for the GREAT LAMA of the west; yet this divinity fit was too much against the grain to last long. Unfortunately for poor Keimer, the kitchen lay between him and his bishobprick: and both nature and habit had so wedded him to that swinish idol, that nothing could divorce him. So after having been led by Ben a "_very d----l of a life_," as he called it, "_for three months_," his flesh-pot appetites prevailed, and he swore, "_by his whiskers, he would suffer it no longer_." Accordingly he ordered a nice roast pig for dinner, and desired Ben to invite a young friend to dine with them. Ben did so: but neither himself nor his young friend were any thing the better for the pig. For before they could arrive, the pig being done, and his appetite beyond all restraint, Keimer had fallen on it and devoured the whole. And there he sat panting and torpid as an ANACONDA who had just swallowed a young buffaloe. But still his looks gave sign that the "_Ministers of Grace_" had not entirely deserted him, for at sight of Ben and his young friend, he blushed up to the eye lids, and in a glow of scarlet, which showed that he paid dear for his _whistle_, (gluttony) he apologized for disappointing them of their dinner. "Indeed, the smell of the pig," he said, "was so sweet, and the nicely browned skin so inviting, especially to him who had been _long starved_, that for the soul of him he could not resist the temptation to _taste it_--and then, O! if Lucifer himself had been at the door, he must have gone on, let what would have been the consequences." He said too, "that for his part he was glad it was a _pig_ and not a _hog_, for that he verily believed he should have bursted himself."--Then leaning back in his chair and pressing his swollen abdomen with his paws, he exclaimed with an awkward laugh, "_Well_, I don't believe I was ever cut out for a bishop!"--Here ended the farce: for Keimer never after this uttered another word about his NEW RELIGION. Ben used, laughing, to say that he drew Keimer into this scrape that he might enjoy the satisfaction of _starving him out of his gluttony_. And he did it also that he might save the more _for books and candles:_ their vegetable regimen costing him, in all, rather less than three cents a day! To those who can spend twenty times this sum on tobacco and whiskey alone, _three_ cents per day must appear a scurvy allowance, and of course poor Ben must be sadly pitied. But such philosophers should remember that all depends on our loves, whose property it is to make bitter things sweet, and heavy things light.