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LAST WORDS OF LORI) BYRON.
* 1 muil iUrp now.—ivsox.
The splendor of the Poet'* lyre—
The eloquence of fame—
Tho spirit’s intelleclosl fire.
The glory end Ihe name,
The eaple wing lint lesve* behind,
The proud stars In in flight—
The power—tin energy—tlie mind
Unutterably bright i
The lieert thet sheds it* own bright hues,
And ring* its own sweet sirein;
liniginetion’e gorgeous views—
(That rainbow of ilio brain I)
Are all but transcripts of one truth—
Reflrctiona of one ray.
And sneak to man, and hint to youth,
Of ful ure dual, decay !
Sleep! with thy glory round thy head,
Far from the grasp of wrong ;
Sleep! mightiest of the mighty dead,
Thou idolised of Song I
Sleep! thou hast won a living tomb,
Wilhin ihe heart's warm core;
Nor gnef, nor care, nor blight, nor gloom,
Shall ever reach thee more I
1 fling my young song like a leaf,
On Time’s disastrous stream;
To find existence frail and brief,
The record of a dream;
But earth shall be a thing forgot,
Existence but a name;
Whe>. British hearts remember not
Thy genius and thy fame I
Sleep I in thy majesty alone,
No earthly shroud la thine;
Sleep I with a kingdom for thy throne,
V. iih nature for iliy shrine!
Sleep I 'till the mice of Ages wake,
The glmioua and the brave;
Sleep I 'till eternity shall break
The alumbcrofUie grare I
EDITH,
ai t. a. t.
Weep not, weep not, that in the spring
V o have 'o make a grave,
The flnweta will grow, the birds will ting
The early rosea wave,
And make the sod we're spreading fair
For her who sleepe below.
We might not bear to ley her there,
In winter frost and anow.
We never hoped to keen her long,
\\ hen but a fairy child,
With dancing step, and birdlike song,
And eyes that only amilcd,
A something shadowy and frail
Waa even in her mirth;
She look'd a flower that one rough galo
Would hear away from earth.
Thero was too clear and blue a light
Within her radiant rvee,
They were loo beautiful, loo bright,
Ton tike their native skier;
Ton changeable ihe rose which ahed
Its color on her face,
Now burning with a passionate red,
Now jual wilhnne faint trace.
She was too thoughtful for her ycare,
It* shell the spirit wore:
And when aha smiled away our fears,
V e only feared the more.
Thecri neon deepened on her check,
Her blue eyes shown more rl- ar.
And every day she grew more weak,
And every hour more dear,
Hercliildhood waa a happy time,
The loving and beloved;
Vorisky, which waa hematit e dime,
Hath but ita own removed.
This earth waa not for one to wliora
Nothing of earth waa given;
'Two* but a resting place, her tomb,
Between the world and heaven.
From the New England lialaxy.
STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM
.1 Kecotlrclion of till " Old CoHHlrir."
Awny with then blytho April!—Away with
Ihert into Ihe preen church ynrd of the pnst l
Thou ort nf thnso whom wo lovc-yct can pari
from with scarce a sigh. Thou nrl Ihe voting
Aurora of ihe yenr ihni cornea lo tell of bright-
er hours, nnd even na thy soft voire whiapors
of their coming, they aleal upon thee, and thou
art forgot inn in their effulgence. Away witii
thee—bright May ! I am a fisher, nnd I love
thy glancing utrsnmes winding down the hills,
where not a lingering snmv-wronth darea to
tempi tho sunheames of thy light blue skins—
I am n fisher, nnd I owe thee, sweet May,
ninny nn hnura forgetfulness of the world—
many a waking drenm and glorious vision,
wherein Itnpo wet, troth, nnd life, eternity!
Awny with ther-dcreivrr '.—June, uneqitullotl
June ia blazing full in the meridian,—see how
tho old anccatrnl woods extend in gladness
their umbrageous aims!—aeo how the golden
Rowers in countless millions spring up wilh a
Hi dden impulse of life and joy—on every green
hunk, and in each quiet and sequestered glade I
H irk how the music of universal nature rings
through the nir. There is a voice in every
fleecy clout)—an unseen spirit of melody in
every pushing zephyr. The lakes—the riven
and tho seas—lo! they are liquid light—saw
you that unforgotten sunset—those purple
gleams upon ihe mountain—those rainbow
eticaks through all the plowing weal!—Then
the soft soothing of Ihe twilight hour, when Ihe
bee is asleep in hie honied cell—and Ihe itnpe.
rial butterfly rata amid tht foldings uf the
dew gemmed flower—when not a sound steals
on the wrapt ear, hut Ihe beating of the sleep*
less heart- and the wordless aspirations of ihe
invisible soul, conscious of its immortality—
Hail to thee—loveliest June I thy smile awai-
ted me at my bitth-mty it reel upon me ai the
hour of death—may n cast its sunshine into
my grave, as my coffin descends into the earth,
and the few who loved me look upon it for the
Iasi time.
The fruits—the luscious fruit* are swelling
into ripeness—I know nothing of Ihe fruila of
the south—I talk of those of my own country.
I have a thorough contempt for Italy with iit
grapes—1 detest Spain with ita oranges!—I
should bo happy to annihilate Turkey and
Asia with their olives and citrons—I mu wri
ting and thinking only of Scotland—I was n
child once—Reader so were you. Do you
recollect the dav and the hour when tha bles
sed influence) of strawberries and cream, first
flashed upon your awakened mind, and you
felt I hat life hnd not been given you in vain.
I was just seven years old—my previous exis
tence ia n blank in memory—when I spent a
June in the country, I may liuve picked be
fore, in the blind ignorance of infancy—some
little red pulpy balls—which may have been
presenled to me on a little blue plate by mv
aunt or grandmother-hut never—nover till my
seventh year was I a warn that in the melting
luxuriance nf one mouthful, so large a share of
human happiness might bo comprised. Su
gar—cream and alrawherrics! Epicurean
compound of unimaginable extacy !—trinity
of exrellcnce, producing the only harmonious
whole known lo me in all the annals of laste.
The fresh vigor of my youthful palate may
have yielded somewhat In ihe deadening ef
fects of (tine—bul tho glorious recollection of
those profound amotions, excited by my first
intoxicaling feast on slrawbcrries and cream,
is worilt every other thought that memory can
conjure up. Breuthea there the man who pre
sumes to smile nt my enthusiasm! Believe
mv he is destined to pass away and be forgot
ten, as the insect upon which you I read. He
is a measurer of broadcloth—nr a scribbler of
juridical technicalities.
Such is not Ihe dostiny awaiting yonder
groupe of youthful smiling prattlers—I lovn
the trembling urdor—the sparkling animuted
countenances with which they gnze on the ru
by spoils before (hem. Never speak to me of
gluttony—it is a natural and noble appetite
redolent of health and happiness, and I honor
il. There is gctiiu3 in Ihe breathing expres
sion of those palled lips which,—(now that
Ihe governess is about to commence her im
partial distribution) seem lo anticipate, in a de
lightful agony of expectation, Ihe fulness of
the coming joy. Observo with how much
energy (hat youthful Homer grasps his silver
spoon—who could have thought those rosebud
lips could have udmitlod such a mountain of
strawberries!—Yet down they go,—nnd os
Shskxpeare well expresses it" leave not a wreck
Wiiita.” Turn your gazo to this infantine
sappho!—what unknown quantities of cream
and sugar the little cherub consumes. Cold
on the stomach !—phoo!—the idea is worthy
of a lutnale soptngcnarmn doomed to the hor
rors of perpetual celibacy. If sha speak from
experience, in Heaven's name givo Her n glass
of brandy, and lei her work out her miserable
existence in fear and trembling. If there ho n
merrier party ufcon-vivimls nt this moment in
Christendom, may I never enter a garden
again. Yet at this very moment, there are
Prime ministers sitting down to Cabinet din
tiers, and seeing in every guest another step
in the ladder of ambition, at litis very moment
the table of the professional epicure ia covered
with all that is rcserche in the annals of gastron
omy ; at this very moment tho bride of yester
night, takes her place of honor, for tho first
lime, at the table of her rieh and titled lius-
Imnd. Alas !—thoro are traitors nt the states-
Ilian's board, there is poison and diseasn w ithin
the silver dishes of the Epicure, and there lire
silent bul sad memories uf days passed ntvny
for ever—strewed liko withered flowers round
the heart of Ihe futr young hridu! But heforo
you is o living garland—still blooming uncon<
scioub uf the thousand cancrcs of earth nnd
air.
Yet the dark arrow is on tho wing—the eye
hath already winged out its victim. And I
see it advancing through the shadow of futuri
ty. In a fow months the golden tresses of
that bright eyed boy will full in rank and mat
ted strings over n cold damp brow. He is
one of many, yet ho is not luss loved by his
own fond parents. Many a long night will
they watch by Ilia feverish couch and clap hia
little burning hands in theirs—and gnze wilh
full hearts—too full for apnocb,—upon tho fa
ding luBtro of his face—yot will his young
manly spirit atill struggle against tho grasp of
pain. With tho pure and confiding affection
of childhood—ho will throw himself into liis
father's arms and look up into his face, nnd
smile and prattlo cheerfully of his innocent
hopos and pleasures. One morning the sun will
shine through his curtains yet will his eyelids
remain unclosed. The bird whoso glad carols
waked him to life and happiness will sing unhee
ded. His pale cheek moves not on his pil-
Inw—his fcebln hand is stretched unconscious
by his side. Nut a sound is in tho darkened
room, hut Ihe frequent sobbing of hia almost
broken hearted mother, nnd tho soft steps nf
his little rosy fared brothers and sisters who,
with lingers pressed upon their lips steal to
his bed and gaze for tho first timo on death.
A few days more,and they lay him in Ihe earth,
and tho unseen power of decomposition seizes
greedily on his prey. Fow knew the happy
boy and none loved him hut his parents; the
temporary blank in their affections is soon fil
led up by the survivors, and ere a year elap
ses, hia merry smile and voice of gladness live
hut faintly in the memory. To the busy world
his existence was unknown, and bis absence
is unfelt, and the wonder rather is, not that he
is now no mare bul that he should have ever
been. And where art thou—young spirit of
delight I Hast thou passed away like a loam
bell on the waiers, or shall we meet with thee
again wandering among the unfading flowers
of the " better land I"
On the whole, I am not sure that strawber
ries ought to be eaten when any one is with
you. There is always under such circumstan
ces, even though yourenmpanion be thedearest
friend you have on earth, a feeling of restraint-
a consciousness that your attention is divided,
a diffidence about betraying the unfathonible
depth of your love for the fruit heforo you, a
linking uneasiness leal he nhould eat faster
than yourself, or appropriate an undue share
<>f the delicious cream: ia abort there is al
ways on such occasion*, a secret dosire that
ihe best friend you have in the world, were at
any distant pari of the globe he might happen
to have a liking for- But oh, the bliss of soli
tary fruition,—when there is none lo interrupt
you—nnne to compete with you—none to ex
press stupid nmazfioont at the extent of your
godlike appetite, or to bring back your thoughts
by some obtrusive remark to the vulgar affair*
of an unsubstantiil world. Behold!—the
milky nectar ia critrsnned by the roseate fruit.
Heavens!—what a flavor—and there is not
another human heitu near to intrude upon the
sacred intensity of your joy. Painter—poet—
philosopher—where is your beau ideal—Itnp-
ptness !—it is concentrated there !—and divi
ded into equal portions by that silver spoon,
glides gloriously down the throat. Eat child
of mortality!—for June cometli but once in
tho year ; eat, for there is yet misery in store
for then -, eat, for thy days are numbered ; eat.
as if tlinu wert eating immortal life ; eat. cat,
though Ihe next mouthful terminate in sppo-
plcxy.
My dream of strawberries hath passed
awny!—The little red rotundities have been
gathered from the surface of the earth, and
man’s insatiate maw lias destroyed them all.—
New hopes may arise, and new sources of
pleasure may perhaps bp discovered;—the
yellow gooseberries may glit'.er, like amber
beads, upon the bending hranchos—the ruby
clierrv may he plucked from the living hough
and its sunny sides bruised into necnr by tins
willing teeth—the apple tinted with the ver
milion bloom of maiden beauty, may woo the
eye, and tempt tlie silver knife, the golden
pear, melting into lusciousnoss, soft as tho lip,
and sweet ns tlin breath of her thou lovest
most—may win, lorn timo, thy heart’s idola
try,—tho velvet peach or downy apricot may
lull thee into brief forget fulness of all terrestri
al woe—the dink blue plum or sunbeam col
oured magnum boium may waft thy soul to
heaven,—or, Inst of all, thy hot house grapes,
purplo in theirblushing richness,may carry thee
back to the world’s prime-to the fawn and dryed
haunted groves uf Arcndy, and rap thee in an
Elysium nf poctiy and music,—but still the
remembranco of ihy first luve will be strong
in thy heart nnd pamper thy noble nature as
thou wilt with all the luxuries that summer
yields, never, never will tho innermost reces
ses of Ihy soul cenno to ho inhabited by an
immortal rcminisccnco ol “ strawberries and
cream!”
Tremont Theatre, 11th April, 1832.
Flogging a Veteran—In Massachusetts,
during the last war, lived a veteran whom we
shall here call by the name of Captain Blunt.
Ho was wilh most of the people uf New Eng
land, opposed to that war, while it so happen
ed that a majority of his town were in its favor.
Politics ran high. Tho Captain was a warm
partisan, and often came into collision with his
opponents. But though lie was opposed to
the war, he was not afraid of the devil and ull
his imps.
He had a sarcastic turn which was very pro
yoking to the opponents, whom he charged
with being bar-ruotn, and grog-shop warriors,
nnd fighting their battles in the chimney cor
ner. Dispute uflcr dispute arose; the captain
dealt out his sarcasms nnd tho war men bias
lered in return. #
“ If you wns a younger man,’* said Peter
Gust, “ I’d give you an all-fired lit-kin.”
" Never mind tny age,” returned the cap
tain, “ if that’s all you’re afraid of.”
*• 11 would’nt be no credit to lick a man ok!
enough to be my graudfather,” said tlie windy
blusterer.
“ No, nor to get beat if you should under-
lake it,” roplied the sturdy veteran. "You
talk about fighting ! Why nil your valor lies
in your tongue.”
These disputes occurred so often, and so
provokingly, tint Peter Gust and his valorous
coqipeors at last determined that the captain
as old as he was, should have a flogging. But
instead of undertaking it themselves they hir
ed a stout he-nigger, ns they called him, to do
it for them.
This sable mercenary came to the captain
hosse, prepared to execute hjs commission
Mo had as much courage aa his employer!
nnd considerably more of good manners. Not
deeming it cither honorable or polite to attack
the veteran wilhout caming hia object, he be
Ran—
“ Massn cap’em Blump, I come to gib you
one moa all jo-fire lickin.”
11 You have, ha I” said the captain seizing
a hoop pole which lay near him.
“ Yes miissa. But I no do him nn my own
casion. Mister Peter Guss, ho and two tree
orders, dey hire me.”
“ Well, you go home and tell Mister Peter
Gust and two or three others, if they have any
business with me to come themselves.”
“ No massa, I nuis’nt do dal. I promise
on my saker honor, for two quart er rum, dal 1
gib you do mose infanta) lickin you ebor had
in all your born day. Now massa Blump,
you put down dat hoop pole, and 1 do him
dreckly.” Thus saying Cato put himself in
an attitude of attack.
Get out of tho way, you rascal,” said the
captain, 44 before I knock you down*”
“ I must lick you massa,” said Ihe perse
vering negro, still makixg demonstrations of
attack; “ cause you see l gage to do it, and
my honor be on a stsko. 1 beg your pardon
mose unrerely. You teber injure me, but
what I gage to do, I boon to do. Dat is de
honorable ting, Massn Blump.”
“ Get out of ihe way,” said the captain
again “ dont trouble ms with your jaw.”
" Not wid my jaw, massa—I no bite—1
take my fist.” Than doubling up his huge
black paw, he made a pats at the captain. But
the veteran who knew how to adapt his warfare
to the nature of his enemy, stepped aside very
dexterously, for an old man: and fetched the
hoop pole a sweep, took Cato full upon the
shins. One blow was sufficient. Down drop
ped the mercenary, and kicked, nnd bopped,
•nd rolled over, and bawled with all hit might
•' Oh I massa ! massa I you kill-e-me dead!
you break my shin. Oh ! dont tush me gin,
captain Blump. My btain alt mash out now !”
Your brains ! where Ihe devil do you
keep your brains 1 I bavn’t touched your
head.”
<• Dal wat make me fee! so Massa. You trike
my head, I no mind it. But, Oh gosh-a-mtgh*
ty! triko a poor black on do sltiu ;—dal beat
mo to nnssin—I no tan dat.”
Pick up your carcase now,” said the cap
tain, 41 and clear out. And hark ye—do you
tell those cowardly white niggers that sent
you hero lo he flogged, that if they will come
themselves I am ready to treat with them upon
the same terms.”
44 But massa, I cant pick up myself—I cant
tan,” said the black making a feint to rise.
14 Cant tan ! Well, I’ll tan your hide for
you.” With that, he drew his hoop polo, and
was about laying on again; when Cato’s legs
recruited wonderfully; and springing up, he
PROSPECTUS
. OB THE
GEORGIA GAZETTE,
A nrcs TO BE XVBtlSm.D WEEKLT, AT ATHENS, bi.
issuing proposals for publishing a . new paper in
Ibis section of Ibe Country, reason and duly would
seem to combine, to invito from u* some exposition of
the circumstances which liave urged ueto the attempt,
ae well aaa briefouttineof the principlee by which wc
will be governed in our courae. This laek wo perform
cheerfully. .
The population ol the Slate is rapidly increasing; her
systeqi or Internal Improvement at its nascent period
of existence; her jurisdictional limite act natty and pros,
pectively extending; her chartered rights and Indian
relationship* assuming new and deeply intereating as-
poets; and her financial resources presenting to bet
eons the appalling alternative ofoppression in futme by
burthenaome taxes, or bankruptcy without some nlu.
tary change in her representative apportionment, all
combine to render an additional Herald of intelligence
to Ihe preeent number altogether proper.
But these by no mean* constitute the whole cata
logue of inducements. Ours ia |ialpably a governm-nt
in experiment. The principlee and terms upon whicll
recruited woitueriuuy; unu vpriugiug , n experiment. The principle* and terms upon whicli
limped homo as well as his battered shins it was based, were professedly novel, and by conse:
M nn.mii I qnentc U would bo fair to assort that they were nut at-
"mdiu ui. nn, .. tw c. we sasssk
hid companions, they stormed, swore like * “ * — «.. .
troopers, and declared that (he old captain
must bo flogged if they had to do it them
selves.
Berry wal,” said Cato, who had taken a gill
of rum and was shaking it down into his shins
—“Mtsser Cap’em Bluntp be ready for you,
he got a hoop pole, ready cut and dry—ha flog
cbery dibble of you, nil in a heap. He terri
ble ole man—dal Cap’etn Blump.
“ Ho must bo flogged,” said Peter Gust,
endeavoring to raise bis own couraga by blus-
lering.
44 It take a man to do dnt, mass Guss, said
Cato, who silt groaning over his wounded shin
—and if you tako a niggers advice, you no
tush him—you let misser Cap’em Blump ’lone
horeafter, foreber an n day.”
Peter Gust and his compeers blustered
about and swore, drank rum, nnd finally set
out to put heir threats in execution against
the sturdy old captain. But their courage
like that of Bob Acres, oozed out by Ihe way;
the advice of Cato was udopted; and thus end
ed the attempt at Flogging the Veteran.
The Ghost -’Tis about twenty years since
Abel, a short, round favored, merry old sol
dier of the revolutionary war, was wedded to
most ubaminablo shrew—tho temper of
Shakspeare’s Catharine, could no more be
compared with her, than mine with Lucifer's ;
her eye was like a weazel’s—sho had a harsh
face, like n cranberry marsh all spread with
spots of white and red, os if she had the mca-
zlcs : wilh hair of the colour of a wisp of straw
and a disposition like u cross cut saw. The
appellation of this lovely dame was Ann, or
Nancy—don't forget the name.
Her brother David, was a tall, good look
ing chap, and that was all; one of your great
big nothings, as we say in Rhode Island,pick
ing up old-jokes, and cracking them on other
folks. Well Duvtd undertook one night to play
the ghost and frighten Abel, whom ho knew
would be returning from a journey through a
grove of forest wood, that stood below the
house some distance—Imlf a mile or so. Wilh
n long taper just made to cover a wig nearly
as large over as a corn basket, and a sheet
with both ends tnado to meet across his breast
(the way in which ghosts are always dresl;
he took his station near a liugo oak tree
whence he could overlook the road, and see
whatever might appear.
It happened, that about an hour before,
friend Able hnd left the table ol on inn, where
ne had made a halt with his horse, and wagon,
lo taste a flagon of malt liquor, and so forth
which being done, he wont on, curing no
more for twenty ghosts, than if they were so
many posts.
David was nearly lired of waiting—his pa
tience was abating; at length he heard the
careless tones of his ktnsmun’s voice ; and
then, the noise of tho wagon wheels among
ihe stones.
Abel wat quite elated, and wat roaring with
all bis might, and puuring out, in great confu
sion, scraps of old songs, made in the revolu
tion. His head was full of Bunkor Hill and
Trenton, and still he went op, scaring the
whip-poor wills among the trees, with rhymes
like these:
44 8m the Yankees
Leave the hill,
With their baggcrnels declining,
With flopp’d down bats
Rusty guns and leather aprons shining.
44 See the Yankees—whoa ! why what is
that ?” said Abel, staring like a cat, as slowly
on the fearful figure strode into tho middle of
the road. 44 My conscience ! what a suit of
clothes! some crazy fellow 1 suppose—hal
loo, fnond, what’s name; by the powers of gin
that’s a strungo dress to travel in.”
Be sileot Abel, for I now have come to
read your doom; then hearken, while your fate
1 now declare; I am a spirit.” 44 1 suppose
you are : hut you’ll not hurt me, and I’ll tell
you why, here is a fact which you cannot do*
ny; all spirits must either be bad or good—
that’s understood; and bo you good or evil, I
am sure ; if a good spirit, I am safe; if evil,
and I don’t know but you may the Devil—if
that’s the case you’ll recollect, I fancy, that I
am married to your sister Nancy.—Old Scrap
Book.
tional Bank; a system of Internal Improvement by
Congress; the power to ta t foreign imports for tho
protection of domestic industry; in short the whole fa
bric of implication, remnins yet to Undergo ita final and
legitimate analysis. They are topics which most agi
tate, and that deeply, eVery patriotic bosom in the con
federacy. To maintain the honor and rights of the
State u’ndei- her constitutional reservation ; tb reinfm:
strain with promptitude end firmhersof purposeagainst
all infractions of the compact, and to preserve thu
Union by enlightened discussion or rational compro
mise, according to the plan of Jefferson and Jackson,
shall be our constant aim. Our cnlnmna shall ilso
contain as far as practicable, important items nti -iel-
ligenre in the departments nf morals, literature, end
science. In our State politics it would he impossible
under our present impressions, lo adopt the principle*
of the Troup parly in most of its measures.
CONDITIONS.
The GEonciA Gazette will be ixsned about the first
of July next, on a large super-royal sheet, with type
entirely new, and we hope splendid, at S3 00 per an-
m, parable within six months alter the receipt of
the first number, or fl4 00 if not paid within the year.
Advertisement* will be inserted at the usual rates.
Athens, March 20.—13-
Other Georgia papers will be pleased to iaaert tlie
abovo.
Recipe for the Fair Sex.—Instead of using
paint, use Cochineal powdered, very small
quantity—tie it in a piece of linen, wet it, and
rub it on the face—afterwards take a lump of
alum and rub it on the face alao—then wipe
the face dry with a handkerchief. This will
preserve Ihe face from any kind of pimple and
wrinkle, end produce e beautiful rosy color.
We ought to add here, after the manner of
our N York brethren, 44 a few extra copies of
our paper, containing the above prescription,
will beatruck off for the accommodation o( the
ladies.”—United States Qasetts.
Weekly Georgia Courier.
The encouragement, which the Covstaa haa receiv
ed from the Public, demands from us an effort to in
crease its usefulness and adaptation to the wants nf its
patrons. We are now publishing it Thrice a week,
the additional cost at our own expense; but there are
ao many of ita fnenda badly situated in relation to
tho facility of receiving il by the Mails, that we intend
lo issue immediately a Weekly Paper for thoao, who
cannot, from the cause montioned, receire it bar onco
a week. This will be issued at a period in 'he wuak,
best suited to the up-country mails, and most favors-
hie for the transmission ufthe earliest intelligence to
its country readers. Wc at present think of Sslu-day
morning, so as to embrace thu transaction! ot the
whole week, wilh all tho new Advertisements. Its
contents will be made up from tlin Tri-ucekly paper,
and from the Daily after October next. It wit! thus
contxin more intelligence of every kind, thxn «ny other
weekly paper in the State. In addition to the above,
we hold ourselves bound to transmit, to ita Patrons,
Slips containing all the important intelligence during
the week, by the mads first auccci-ding its ter option.
We shall not postpone its commencement longer than
the first of April next.
fey Terms of tho fi'ciUy Courier, $4, if pakl in ad
vance— J5, if not.
PROSPECTUS
OF THE
SPIRIT OF THE TIMES
AND LIFE IN NEW YORK.
I N undertaking the publication of a paper, devoted,
as this is designed lo be, to the pie sure*, amuse-
ments, fashions and divertiaemenls of life, the subscri
bers have beon animated by the persuasive encourage
ments and graniitous promises ol’mipporl, of many of
tho most influential, enlightened and respectable mem
bers of the New York community. It is to a certain
extent, a field unoccupied by othura, and one wliicn is
deemed important to be filled. For whilo the politi
cians, the theologians and tlie literati of our country
have etch thoir separate oraclr*, which (like that of
Detphoa) proclaim aloud and defend th«ir several opin
ion* and intercsis; the cause offa.hion, pleasurable en
tertainments, ot taste and recreation, find but few put,
licationaofa periodical kind, appropriated solely to
their encouragement and support. To paint '* tile an
it is,” without the artificial embellishments of romance;
to speak of ita propensities for enjoyment, its sppetito
for pleasure and indulgence, and ita tendency lo enter
into occasional follies, is to do what many must ap
prove, and no onecan condemn. For it is certainly no
more improper to record the acts of men than to pro
mulgate them orally to the World. '* Pleasure," says
the noble Frenchman, 44 is the chief business of life,”
and however seemingly incorrect the maxim may be
in tho estimation ofeome,yut it is literaHy true, for tho-
devotee certainly takes pleasure in the exercise of his
religion, the mere hont and mechanic in their several
branches of employment, and the man of letters in hia
hooks: while the sportsman who chases the hare, and
attends the ring or the race, is only pursuing pleasi rex
in congeniality with hia natural or cultivated taste.
In presenting this new candidate for favor and pa
tronage to the public, it is the intention of the publish
ers lo render it as interesting as possible, and to pletso
alt if they can, without wounding the feelings or dis
turbing the prqudices of any. The language will bo
always chaste, ao that the most delicate may approve.
The paper will treat nf Fashion, Tasto and 8ccnes of
Real Life, gathered from tho every day exhibitions of
the world. Theatres, Museums, and otbrr fashiona
ble places of resort, will receive appropriate notice^
while the Sports of the Turf, the Ring, tlie Pit, of the
Fisher and the Fowler, will engross no inconsiderable
portion uf attention. Tho proceedings of Ihe Cou;te,
civil and criminal, wills* far as possible be given,when
matters of interest occur, and more especially those of
the Police, where life in all ita forms and coloring is so
faithfully portrayed.—Ilia alio tha intention of the edi
tors to devote a considerable portion of each paper to
the compilation and dissemination of tha news of the
day, in a aummariel form, which will serve as a brief
and faithful record of all important and passing events,
condensing a large mas* into a comparatively small
compass.
With these intentions, fully and fagrly proclaimed,
and with Ihe most perfect good feeling* toward* all our
co-laborers in the same vocation, we present ourselves
before an enlighted community, a* candidates for their
patronage and smiles.
WM. T. PORTER.
JAMES HOWE.
IC7* Post-Master*, and otbar Gentlemen who wilt
act at Agents for our paper, by giving ua notice, can
hare forwerded to them subscription piper* and extra
copiea.—.Jprii |8J3.
NOTICE.
A LL thoee having demands against the Estate of
John Clarkson, late of Franklin county, decease
ed, are required to render in their account* accor
ding to law; and all those indebted to the Estate of
the deceased, are required to catne forward and setll-
off their accounts immediately.
JAMES HARGROVE, EsV.
March 37—0—FVJ.