of our readers. But writers are not wanting who have
carried the original of tobacco into the Grecian fabulous ages, and
attributed to Bacchus the glory of having discovered and disclosed to
mortals its virtues. Thorius, as Dr. Clarke tells us, very ominously
ascribes the discovery and first use of this herb to Bacchus, Silenus,
and the Satyrs, (drunkenness, gluttony, and lust,) and yet, continues
the Doctor, with a sneer, this poem was written in praise of it. Mr.
Lamb, in the poem before quoted, has the same thought, and he farther
adds a belief, that the tobacco plant was the true Indian conquest for
which the jolly god has been so celebrated. He moreover intimates, that
the Thyrsus of that deity was afterwards ornamented with leaves of
tobacco, instead of ivy. Even the name of the plant has been derived
from Bacchus. This is particularly mentioned by Mr. Joseph Sylvester,
quoted by Dr. Clarke, who wrote a poem on tobacco which he inscribed to
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. The title of this tirade is very quaint,
viz. "Tobacco battered, and the Pipes shattered (about their Ears who
idly idolize so base and barbarous a Weed; or at least-wise overlove so
loathsome a Vanity) by a Volley of holy Shot from Mount Helicon."

"For even the derivation of the name
Seems to allude and to include the same;
Tobacco as [Greek: toBakcho] one would say
To cup-god Bacchus dedicated ay."

Nor should all this appear so extraordinary, when we consider that
Charlevoix, with the utmost seriousness, discusses the question, whether
the calumet of the North American Indians was the same as the caduceus
of Mercury.[20] It is however beyond all doubt, that tobacco has always
been regarded by the Indians with religious veneration, and employed by
them in all religious ceremonies. Mr. Stith informs us, that they
thought this plant "of so great worth and virtue that the gods
themselves were delighted with it; and therefore they sometimes made
sacred fires, and instead of a sacrifice, threw in the dust of tobacco;
and when they were caught in a tempest, they would sprinkle it into the
air and water--upon all their new fishing nets they would cast some of
it, and when they had escaped any remarkable danger, they would throw
some of this dust into the air, with strange distorted gestures,
sometimes striking the earth with their feet in a kind of time and
measure, sometimes clapping their hands and throwing them up on high,
looking