“Listen to me. When you fill your pipe do you feel any pleasure?”
“Yes.”
“Whence does that pleasure arise, if it is not from your soul? Let us go further. Do you not feel pleased when you give up your pipe after having smoked all the tobacco in it—when you see that nothing is left but some ashes?”
“It is true.”
“Well, there are two pleasures in which your senses have certainly nothing to do, but I want you to guess the third, and the most essential.”
“The most essential? It is the perfume.”
“No; that is a pleasure of the organ of smelling—a sensual pleasure.”
“Then I do not know.”
“Listen. The principal pleasure derived from tobacco smoking is the sight of a smoke itself. You must never see it go out of the bowl of your pipe,—but only from the corner of your mouth, at regular intervals which must not be too frequent. It is so truly the greatest pleasure connected with the pipe, that you cannot find anywhere a blind man who smokes. Try yourself the experiment of smoking a pipe in your room, at night and without a light; you will soon lay the pipe down.”
“It is all perfectly true; yet you must forgive me if I give the preference to several pleasures, in which my senses are interested, over those which afford enjoyment only to my soul.”