ject was to celebrate the
virtues of the most incomparable of all our native plants, should be
totally unknown in that new world, with whose discovery it was nearly
contemporaneous! But perhaps our Jeremiad may be premature; for in some
obscure corner in Virginia, (the garden of this weed,) a copy of the
poem may at this very moment exist, like unobtrusive merit, disregarded
and despised. For the honour of our country, we hope this may prove
true; since it may lessen the odium with which men habitually load poor
republics, a name which has long been the by-word and synonime of
ingratitude.

We are fully aware of the contemptuous manner in which Doctor Clarke
speaks of this production, and its English translation by the Rev. W.
Berwick, declaring them to be "of equal merit, and that they scarce
deserve to be mentioned." But to the merit of this work we have
testimony infinitely higher than the opinion of the Reverend Doctor.
Thus, Howell, in his inimitable "Familiar Letters," a book which cannot
be too highly commended, or too often read, says, "if you desire to read
with pleasure all the virtues of this modern herb, you must read Dr.
Thorius's Potologis, an accurate peece, couched in a strenuous heroic
verse, and continuing its strength from first to last; insomuch that for
the bignes it may be compared to any piece of antiquity, and in my
opinion is beyond [Greek: Batzachomnomachia] or [Greek:
Galeomnomachia]."[16] The learned Mr. Bayle speaks of the same
production in very commendatory language.[17] Bayle tells an excellent
story of Thorius, which, as it illustrates the character of the great
tobacco poet, deserves to be read. He was extremely fond of his glass of
wine, and had, beside, that hydrophobic distaste, which has been
imagined essential to the true poet. Being one day seated at the dinner
table, in company with the celebrated Peireskius, in the festivity of
the occasion, he was urging the latter to quaff off a bumper of wine,
and after the most importunate intreaties, Peireskius at last agreed to
do it upon one condition, which was, that Thorius should immediately
afterwards drink a bumper himself. No condition could be more
acceptable, no penalty more easy; but what was the surprise and horror
of Thorius, when his turn came, to find that he was called upon to drink
a bumper, not of wine, but of water!--which insipid and unaccustomed
beverage, after sundry efforts and awry faces, he contrived to get down,
a