Old London Ale-house.
"If it be true that there be seven thousand shops in and about London, that doth vend tobacco, as it is credibly reported that there be over and above that number, it may well be supposed to be but an ill customed shop, that taketh not five shillings a day, one day with another throughout the whole year; or, if one doth take lesse, two other may take more; but let us make our account, but after two shillings sixpence a day, for he that taketh lesse than that would be ill able to pay his rent, or to keepe open his shop windows; neither would tobacco houses make such a muster as they do, and that almost in every lane, and in every by-corner round about London."
"A Tobacco seller is described after this manner by Blount in a volume "Micro-Cosmographie; Or A Piece of the World discovered; in Essays and Characters" (1628).
"A tobacco seller is the only man that finds good in it which others brag of, but doe not, for it is meate, drinke, and clothes to him. No man opens his ware with greater seriousness, or challenges your judgment more in the operation. His Shop is the Randenvous of spitting, where men dialogue with their noses, and their conversation is smoke. It is the place only where Spain is commended, and preferred before England itself.
"He should be well experienced in the World; for he has daily tryall as men's nostrils, and none is better acquainted with humour. His is the piecing commonly of some other trade, which is bawd to his Tobacco, and that to his wife, which is the flame that follows the smoke."
Early in the Seventeenth Century began the persecution by royal haters of the plant, others, however, had denounced the weed and its use and users, but venting nothing more than a tirade of words against it, had but little effect in breaking up the trade or the custom.[44] James I. sent forth his famous "Counterblast" and in the strongest manner condemned its use. A portion of it reads thus:
"Surely smoke becomes a kitchen fane better than a dining chamber: and yet it makes a kitchen oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soyling and injecting with an unctuous oyly kind of roote as hath been found in some great tobacco takers, that after death were opened. A custom loathsome to the eye, harmful to the braine, dangerous to the lungs, and the black stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless."[45]
Quaint old Burton in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," recognizes the virtues of the plant while he anathematizes its abuse. He says:—