The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction Volume 12, No. 333, September 27, 1828 A pinch of snuff delights again Page 7 of 21 Give me, ye gods, my quantum suff. Of Grimstone’s or Gillespie’s snuff-- These are the sorts I crave; Defend me from the Lundyfoot, 'Tis to my nostrils worse than soot, And from the Irish save. Your Prince’s Mixture I despise, It clogs the head and dims the eyes-- The nose rejects such burden; Sure 'tis the critic’s vast delight, So dull and stupidly they write, I call for witness ----. Oh! where shall I for courage fly? Or what restorative apply? A pinch be my resource; Perchance the French are not polite, And with my country wish to fight, Then I must grieve perforce; Or, if with doubt the bosom heaves. The heart for Grecian sorrows grieves, And pines to see them fail. Such critics sometimes court the muse, And I perchance the rhymes peruse, Then heaves the breast with pain. To soothe the mind in such an hour, A pinch of snuff has ample power-- One pinch–all’s well again. A pinch of snuff delights again, And makes me view with great disdain, And soothes my patriot grief. Thus for the list of human woes, The pangs each mortal bosom knows, I find in snuff relief: It makes me feel less sense of sorrow, When modern bards their verses borrow, And soothes my patriot grief. Then let me sing the praise of snuff-- Give me, ye gods, I pray, enough-- Let others boast their wine; Let some prefer the nice _morceau_ And piquant joys of feasting know, The bliss of snuff be mine.
Who was the author? He’s rather picky, though. Toast is too fine and Princes too coarse for him it seems.
@Xander No credits were givin, but from the story we can be certain he wasn’t a frenchman .