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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1840 edition. Excerpt: ... "The God of Love, who stood to hear him, (The God of Love was always near him), Pleased and tickled with the sound, Sneezed aloud; and all around, The little loves, that waited by, Bowed, and blest the augury." The lady protests in her turn: --"She spoke; the God of Love aloud Sneezed again; and all the crowd Of little Loves, that waited by, Bowed, and blest the augury. This good omen, thus from heaven, Like a happy signal given--" confirmed their mutual choice, and united the fair couple for life. No doubt the platonic swain, to whom we have just alluded, bore this poem in mind, and blest his shrine's propitious breathing. The inveteracy of habit is more ludicrously, yet more innocently evinced by snuff takers, than by any other slaves to acquired tastes, and second natures. Let not the following traits be deemed exaggerations--they are truths. An outside traveller, thrown from the coach top, upon a road-side bank, was instantly beset by queries as to whether or no he was much hurt. He did not look so--yet, gazing into the liquid mud before him, he groaned, --; "Yes, in the tenderest part." "Where, Sir?" "My nose--'tis running down the kennel." "Poor man, he 's light headed," cried an old dame. "Not yet, but soon shall be," he sighed, picking up his empty Lawrence kirk, and pointing to the gutter, into which its treasures were upset. What were all his bones to one bereaved piece of cartilage? You take my nose when you do take the snuff that keeps my nose. The good woman understood his case, and offered him a screw of Scotch, for which he forced on her half a crown. "Lord love ye, Sir," said she, " why it's not worth a penny." "Not my life! good mother? I tell you, you have saved my very soul." And he went on his way rejoicing. In the days...