Is it not wondrous strange that there should be 
Such different tempers twixt my friend and me? 
i burn with heat when I tobacco take, 
But he on th’ other side with cold doth shake: 
To both "tis physick, and like physick works, 
The cause o’ th’ various operation lurks 
Not in tobacco, which is still the same, 
But in the difference of our bodies frame: 
What's meat to this man, poison is to that, 
And what makes this man lean, makes that man fat; 
‘What quenches one’s thirst, makes another dry; 
And what makes this man wel, makes that man dye. 
Tuomas WAsHBOURNE, D, D. 
Thy quiet spirit lulls the lab’ring brain, = 
Lures back to thought the flights of vacant mirth, 
Consoles the mourner, soothes the couch of pain, 
And wreathes contentment round the humble hearth; 
While savage warriors, soften'd by thy breath, 
Unbind the captive, hate had doomed to death. 
Rev. WALTER CoLTon. 
Whate’er I do, where’er I be, 
My social box attends on me; 
It warms my nose in winter's snow, 
Refreshes midst midsummer’s glow; 
Of hunger sharp it blunts the edge, 
And softens grief as some alledge. 
Thus, eased of care or any stir, 
I broach my freshest canister ; 
And freed from trouble, grief, or panic, 
I pinch away in snuff balsamic. 
For rich or poor, in peace or strife, 
Tt smooths the rugged path of life. 
Rev. Wii1am Kine. 
Hart! Indian plant, to ancient times unknown— 
A modern truly thou, and all our own! 
Thou dear concomitant of nappy ale, 
Thou sweet prolonger of an old man’s tale, 
Or, if thou’rt pulverized in smart rappee, 
And reach Sir Fopling’s brain (if brain there be), 
He shines in dedications, poems, plays, 
Soars in Pindarics, and asserts the bays; 
Thus dost thou every taste and genius hit— 
In smoke thou’rt wisdom, and in snuff thou’rt wit, 
Rey. Mr, Prior, , 
