their seniors. Little Tommy and Johnny see their fathers or uncles smoke
a pipe, and they say, "If I could only do that, I would be a man too;
uncle John has gone out and left his pipe of tobacco, let us try it."
They take a match and light it, and then puff away. "We will learn to
smoke; do you like it Johnny?" That lad dolefully replies: "Not very
much; it tastes bitter;" by and by he grows pale, but he persists and
he soon offers up a sacrifice on the altar of fashion; but the boys
stick to it and persevere until at last they conquer their natural
appetites and become the victims of acquired tastes.

I speak "by the book," for I have noticed its effects on myself, having
gone so far as to smoke ten or fifteen cigars a day; although I have not
used the weed during the last fourteen years, and never shall again. The
more a man smokes, the more he craves smoking; the last cigar smoked
simply excites the desire for another, and so on incessantly.

Take the tobacco-chewer. In the morning, when he gets up, he puts a quid
in his mouth and keeps it there all day, never taking it out except to
exchange it for a fresh one, or when he is going to eat; oh! yes, at
intervals during the day and evening, many a chewer takes out the quid
and holds it in his hand long enough to take a drink, and then pop it
goes back again. This simply proves that the appetite for rum is even
stronger than that for tobacco. When the tobacco-chewer goes to your
country seat and you show him your grapery and fruit house, and the
beauties of your garden, when you offer him some fresh, ripe fruit, and
say, "My friend, I have got here the most delicious apples, and pears,
and peaches, and apricots; I have imported them from Spain, France and
Italy--just see those luscious grapes; there is nothing more delicious
nor more healthy than ripe fruit, so help yourself; I want to see you
delight yourself with these things;" he will roll the dear quid under