My idea of heaven on Earth is the English country pub, the most potent symbol of everything I love about this sceptred isle. Ideally, it should be at least a couple of centuries old, with low ceilings and gnarled oak beams. On winter evenings, it should have a blazing log fire in the grate, with a couple of labradors stretched out on the hearth ('just taking the dog for a walk, dear').

but now, Nu-Labour, having stopped us smoking in pubs, are now taking the next step towards stopping us drinking in our local

For rank hypocrisy, look no further than the Government's inconceivable decision to make it a criminal offence - punishable with a jail term of up to 10 years - to take a picture of a oliceman. Everywhere we go, the police - under instruction from Ministers - are watching our every move.

Police are even beginning to insist that pubs - as a condition of being granted a licence - install CCTV cameras to watch their regulars having a drink. Indeed, some pubs are even being told to ban their customers from wearing hats, in case it makes identification by these cameras more difficult

Recall if you will dear readers that next door to our local is our local rifle range & after shooting a couple of cards, The Englishman & your humble correspondent usually pop in for a couple of sharpeners. Not wanting to leave unattended weapons in a car, rifles are propped up in the corner of the bar. Neither the landlord nor other regulars give it a second though. During the season, on any given Friday or Saturday evening, there will be a group of stout bulldogs enjoying a few pints of finest foaming after a days shooting. Needless to say, their shotguns will be similarly stacked up in the corner.

Now consider this … in a state for refreshment your beer blearly eye comes to rest on a police CCTV camera & you still have a couple of No.6 carridges in your pocket. I don’t think that you need me to spell out the solution to this latest piece of Nu-Labour prefidery.