Brunswick advocate. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1837-1839, August 10, 1837, Image 1
DAVIS* «fc SHORT, PUBLISHERS.
VOLUME I.
The Itnmsicirk •Itfeorafe.
Is published every Thursoay Morning, in the
eitv of Brunswick, Glynn County, Georgia,
at $3 per annum, in advance, or $4 at
the end of the year.
No subscriptions received for a less term than
six months and no paper discontinued until all
arrearages are paid except at the option of the
publishers.
33= All letters and communications to the
Editor or Publishers in relation to the paper,
must be POST PAID to ensure attention.
conspicuously in
serted at One Dollar per one hundred words,
for the first insertion, and Fifty Cents for ev
ery subsequent continuance—Rule and figure
work always double price. Twenty-five per
cent, if not paid in advance, or during
the continuance of the advertisement. Those
sent without a specification of the number of
insertions will be published until ordered out 1
and charged accordingly.
Legal Advertisements published at the
usual rates.
(rrN. B Sales of Land, by Administrators,
Executors or Guardians, are required, by law,
to be held on the first Tuesday in the month,
between the hours of tort in the forenoon and
three in the afternoon, at the Court-house in
the county in which the property is situate.—
Notice of these sales must be given in a public
gazette, Sixty Days previous to the day ot
sale.
Sales of Negroes must be at public auction,
on the first Tuesday of the month, between the
usual hours of sale, at the place of public sales
iu the county where the letters testamentary,
of Administration or Guardianship, may have
been granted, first giving sixty days notice
thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this
State, and at the door of the Court-house, where
such sales are to be held.
jVfioticc for the sale of Personal Property, must
ho given in like manner, Forty days previous
to the day of sale.
Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Es
tate must he published for Forty days.
Notice that application will he made to the
Court of Ordinary for leave to sell L and, must
|>e published for Four Months.
Notice for leaye to sell Negroes, must he
published for Four Months, before any order
absolute shall be made thereon by the Court.
PROSI 1 E C T U S
O F Tll E
A WEEKLY TAPER,
PUBLISHED AT BRUNSWICK, GLYNN
COUNTY, GEORGIA.
The causes which render necessary the es
tablishment of this Press, and its claims to the
support of tiie public, can best be presented by
tli®*latemcnt of a few facta, jtJ _
Brunswick possesses a harbor, v iiSffc
cessibility, spaciousness and secTrritTVlSnirhe
quullcd oil the Southern Coast This, ol ltseit,
would be sufficient to render its growth rapid,
and its importance permanent; for the best
port South of the Potomac must become the
site of commercial city. But when to
this is added *.he singular salubrity ol the cli
mate, free from those noxious exhalations gen
erated by the union of salt and river waters,
and which arc indeed “charnel airs’ ton, white
population, it must bo admitted that Brunswick
contains all .the requisites for a healthy and
populous city. Tims much has been the uoik
of Nature ; but already Art lias begun to lend
her aid to this faired spot, and the industry of
man bids fair to increase its capacities, and
add to its importance a hundred fold. In a
few months, a canal will open to the harbor oi
Brunswick the vast and fertile country through
which flow the Altamaha, and its great tribu
taries. A Rail Road will shortly be commenc
ed, terminating at Pensacola, thus uniting the
waters of the Gulf of Mexico with the Atlantic
Ocean. Otiicr Rail Roads intersecting the
State in various directions, will make Bruns
wick their depot, and a large portion of the
trade from the Valley ot the .Mississippi will
yet find its way to her wharves. Such, in a
sow words, arc the principal causes which will
operate in rendering Brunswick the principal
city of the South. But while its advantages
are so numerous and obvious, there have been
found individuals and presses prompted by sel
fish fears and interested motives, to oppose an
undertaking which mast add so much to the
importance and prosperity of the State. Their
united powers are now applied to thwart in
every possible manner, this great public bene
fit. Misrepresentation and ridicule, invective
and denunciation have been heaped on Bruns
wick and its friends. To counteract these ef
forts by the publication and wide dissemination
of the facts —to present the claims of Bruns
wick to the confidence and favor of the public,
1o furnish information relating to all |£ie
great works of Internal Iniprovemcnt now go
ing on through the State, and to aid in devel
oping the resources of Georgia, will be the
leading objects of this Press.
Such being its end and aim, any interfer
ence in the party politics of tire day would be
improper and impolitic. . Brunswick has re
ceived benefits from—it has friends in all par-
ties, and every consideration is opposed to
rendering its Press the organ of a party. To
the citizens of Georgia—and not to the mem
bers of a party —to the friends of Brunswick—
to tire advocates of Internal Improvement—to
the considerate and rcfiectiug—do we apply
tor aid and support
Terms—Three dollars per annum in ad
vance, or four dollars at the end of the year.
J. W. FROST, Editor.
DAVIS &: SHORT, Publishers.
IS SSC E E L \ Y Y.
[From the London Athenannn.J
AMERICA.
The scornful question in the Quarterly,
“Who reads an American b<joj< ?” drew
forth tiie ire of every review and newspa
per in the United States. A, more sensi
ble question would have been, “Who
reads an American book in America ?” I
The good people of the United States'
arc the greatest readers (of every tiling i
except their own books,) in the world ; j
they “eat paper, as it were, and drink ,
ink.” A novel of Bulwcr’s is republished I
in three days after it arrives in the Swift j
packet irom Liverpool; and in three l
weeks, it is read in every settlement and
cabin in Louisiana, and criticised in every j
one of the thousand or two newspapers I
between the Atlantic and Mississippi.—
And, from Bulwcr, downwards, —the most
still-born and unheard-of romance, poem,
or what not, comes forth as instantly, in
a cheap edition, and is bought up, and
solemnly noticed and praised iu every
corner of that it nine rise country. Noth
ing is more common in England than to
hear small authors talking of their “Amer
ican reputationit consoles them for
their neglect at home. They sec their
names in tho i'hili rathe Jlenmer, or the
Kentucky Champion, with four columns
of extract, and an editorial critique—and
to say to themselves, like Byron, when lie
heard that a volume of his poems had been
seen in Albany, “This is fame!”
There are. American books, however,
which tl»e Americans road—those which
have been praised in England. Fenimore
Cooper’s admirable novels; Washington
Irving’s works; Miss Sedgwick’s woman
ly and clever talcs: and Bryant’s I’oonis,
(edited by Irving, and published in Lon
don,) are all very popular—since stamped
with English approbation. Even the
great dimming, though always revered
for his piety and eloquence by the imme
diate circle of his sect, was never general
ly known and admired in America, as the
most powerful writer of his time, until the
echo came back from England. Then,
indeed, his essays were reprinted, and his
works collected into a volume, and all the
newspaper? mentioned the fact, that they
“had been iminraJJu **'“■«» L»...7 >
Words cbjjtfinSfcvoy up "lose. 0
You wOTffTcxpcct, naturally, to get an
idea of American literature from the
American reviews and magazines: you
may find any thing else in them. They
review French, Gerjnan, and English
books, on all possible subjects —give la
bored and unreadable treatises on foreign
politics, statistics, and morals; —but no
mention of poem, novel, or drama, by one
oft heir own writers. The North Ameri
can lit line, the oldest, and generally con
sidered, in America, as the best of the
Quarterlies, has never contained a respec
table paper on Cooper's works; and, if
|we are not mistaken, a fair criticism of
: this first author of their country has never
I appeared in either of the two others,
(Wui sir’s or Legar’s,) nor in one of the
Monthlies. These periodicals arc now
| taken in many of the clubs and reading
rooms of England, and every man of any
pretensions to literature or general infor
j mation looks over them. The result is
seen in -the very common opinion, that,
: except wife qne or two authors above
naiifrdffchcrofcis no man in America who
; has written a book, good, bad, or indiffer
ent. %
This want of independence, and proper•
self-respect, shows itself in every tiling |
American. A dull book of travels, that I
would never be heard of else in England, j
sets the United States of America com
pletely on fire. A half-pay officer, getting !
up a well-spiced volume to eke out his
year’s income, or a lady-bankrupt in tape
and bobbin paying her outfit and passage :
money, home, by ministering in the same !
way to the common appetite for caricature, j
is understood to represent the voice of
Great Britain, and her possessions in gen
eral—and a universal and indignant up
roar, from Maine to Georgia, answers the
purpose of the obscure author, and saves
his publisher a hundred pounds in advor-!
Using.' Every word in the Quarterly ,
(whose business, of course, it is to dfcery
every thing radical, and whose abuse of|
America every body of common sense |
ought to understand,) is in the Same ridic
ulous manner flung back upon the whole
kingdom of Great Britain, and alluded to,
and brooded over in the newspapers for j
months, like a national insult. With a
supcrjlu of national vanity , America is
strangely deficient in national pride.
The sale of inferior English books, in
the United States, is prodigious. -Every
thing in the way of narrative, that could
find a publisher in England, is imprinted
in New York : and where? My copies
sold'in England, thousands W the'ririhgat
lantic edition are bought up with avitHty4
An American book, ten times as good,
lies on the shelves of the bookseller, till he
is prepared to discount to the trunk-maker.
Hence, with the exception of Cooper and
zsxhjctswzcr, Georgia, imsmsT so, 1337.
j Irving, who live by their foreign popular
j ity, there is not an author by profession
iin the United States. Paulding isaijavy
) agent; Sprague, cashier of a bank ; Bry
ant, editor of a newspaper; Hillhouse, a
I bard- ware merchant; and so on. No one
j man or woman lives merely bv literature
in an enlightened and book-devouring
population of fourteen millions !
This would be fair enough, or at least,
a less shame, was there no genius among
them, and no American books worth read
ing. _ We hope to convince English read
ers, at least, in the course,of a few papers
on this subject, that there is a mine of
prose, poetry, and dramatic writing in that
country, which deserves better than to
have been first unearthed by foreign criti
cism.
Y» e have read the productions of two
hundred poets, and seventy-two prose wri
ters, whose works have been printed in
America, since the settlement of New
England. Many of these, of course, (and
among them, Barlow’s “Columbiad,” and
the poems of Phillis. Wheatley, the black
girl—the latter the better of the two,) are
as well left to their fate. The most vof
urjiinous of the prose writers of America
employed their talents upon politics or
religion; and these, though distinguished
and well known in England, (as, Cotton
Mat her, Dr. Dwight, Jefferson, Jay,
Hamilton, and others,) are not within a
range which interests the general reader.
We come down at once to our own dav.
Among those whose names have cross
ed the Atlantic and whose works are well
known in England, is Dr. Outlining, of
Boston. The [ay productions, on which
the literary reputation of this great divuic
is founded, arc very few : a small volume
of Essays comprises them all. Yet, in
these small limits, the hand of the master
are so visible—tltc thoughts arc of suelu
broad sculpture—the language is so
severely beautiful—and the truth 'and
loftiness of the author’s mind are so stamp-
every line, that, if lie were not
the leader of a powerful sect, and should
he never write more, his fame would have
pedestal enough: the Essay on Napoleon
alone would make a reputation.
Dr. Charming is the great apostle of
Ijnitarianisni. He was originally a Trim-
K-it Ail limn, UU«I, 111 11 ’- x TP%rtf<jy
cashiered remarkable either as a writer
orepcakcr. The change iu bis sentiments
took place while he was still young: and
at that tim<s the believers in bis new creed
were few. Possessed (by marriage, if we I
are not mistaken) of a considerable for-j
tune, lie was independent of vvordly con
siderations—and, in the same town where
lie had always lived, began to preach his
then unpopular doctrines, with ti* power
and an eloquence which seemed to gather
strength from opposition, and soon col
lected about him an attentive, and, before!
long, a believing congregation, lie has
lived to seethe Unitarians one of the most
numerous sects in New England. By far
the greater proportion of the educated
and wealthy arc among his followers; the
oldest and best endowed university is
completely in their hands; and a class of
me** have sprung up, and are settled over
the numerous congregations about Bos
ton, unparalleled in any other sectfortul
ent and eloquence. Greenwood, Palfrey,
Pierpont, (one of the best American po
ints,) Dewey, Ware, Everett, (formerly a
| clergyman—now a member of Congress,)
! Emerson, and others, are not only efficient
I and influential pastors of churches, but
I authors of no mean ability, and contribu
tors to the various Miscellanies and Ec
-1 views of the Unitarian press. They all
• bear about them, however, the impress of
their great master. The self-possessed,
! high-bred, polished manner—the elabor
ate, brilliant, poetical sermon —the classic
and musically-balanced enunciation—the
l refined allusion—the total absence ofthose
I technicalities which the profane call cant
| —and the perfect adaptation oi’ tone, style,
and delivery, to the sensitiveness of “ears
I polite”—mark them distinctly from all
other hlergy. A more gcntlemauly-jike,
scholar-like, “thorough-bred’ 1 class of men
is not to be found in the world.
Dr. Channing is not yet an old man—
but, for many years, he Ims been consid
■ crcd, and has considered himself, at death’s
1 door: it was to his hearers as if every ser
mon must be bis last. 1J is mind, howev
er, is in full vigor, and his writing, and
1 even his eloquence, in this fe<d4e and dy
| ing state, breathe an undiminished entlm
| siasm. In person, he is singularly small,
; and of the slightest possible frame : seen
in the street, wrapped in a cloak, and”'
| covered with a clerical hat, lie looks a
child in the habiliments of a man. (We
were struck, by the wav, when in Edin
burgff, with his resemblance to Jeffrey,
though a much smaller man even than
llie qritic of the KtHnburgh Review.) In
KvaSSfe conversation, i»t; seems dependent,
lePteg, affectionate : nis voice is queru
lous and low ; his steps andjnanner inark
, ed with debility ; and, if you diihiot study
j closely his hand and eye, you would uev
i er itfihginc yourself in the presence of a
“HEAR ME FOI| MY CAUSE.”
I mjfci in whom there lived a spark of ener
i gjt He creeps up the pulpit stairs with
j almost painful—while the
is hushed in anxious and
bpfifi liless sympathy—sinks, exhausted, in
-1 toxnie4rorner, and rises at last to give out
the psalm, pale, and apparently quite un
equal .to the service. A dead silence fol-
I lows the first sound of bis voice;—and
they may well listen—for never were a po
et’s words read with such cadence* of
I music. A prayer follows—low, brief,
reverential, and wholly free from the ir
reverence and familiarity common in ex
tempore addresses to the Deity. Another
psalm follows—jead, perhaps, more dis
tinctly, and with loss tremulous debility
than the as the echo of the or
gan dies in the arches of the roof, ho rises
lor the sermon. His cloak has been
thrown aside, and be stands before his
audience the slightest drapery of a human
| frame that would serve to keep his soul
upon the earth. Across bis forehead
! streams a single lock of soft brown hair, I
j contrasted strongly with the transparent!
■ whiteness; bis thin and hollow features,
are calmly and merely intellectual in their
! pain-worn lines; and bis eye, glowing with
►the unnatural brightness of sickness, large,
lambent, and clear, beams with inexpres-.
jsible benignity. His voice, the most mu
j sical to which it lias ever been our lot to
'listen, is first heard calm and deliberate,
i and is. not varied liil lie has laid down the
j premises of his discourse. Ten minutes
have elapsed—and you have forgotten the
■man in the interest he lias awakened by
the truth-like and lucid statement of his
1 theme. He is less a preacher to the hun
! dreds about you, than an intelligent friend
] making a communication of personal in-
I icrest to yourself. Your mind is wholly
his own. At this point, the strange and
[peculiar cadences to his voice begin to
| strengthen and change: his sentences are
j more varied—from the brief and impres
sive antithesis to the eloquent appeal,
| rolling onward with progressive patl>os
land energy; and his tones, which you
j had thought so silvery sweet, fill and gath
er power, and seem illimitable in compass
jand expression. Passive, and almost mo-
I tionless till now, his slight frame seems to
j dilate—his countenance kindles—his lips
seem burn;?) : with earnest.news and tin. :
[with its was!: and hand, at the thrilling (Whs
i of his appeal, he seems transformed to a
' prophet—instinct with supernatural reve
; lation. He goes on, and his discourse is
full of surprises to the mind and to the
I car. Conclusions spring suddenly, and
| yet with irresistible logic, from the com
jmonest premises: and his enunciation, to
which wo again recur, and which is as va
ried in its stops and as curious
jin its capabilities as an organ, changes
[from pathos to command—from calmness
!to impassioned fervor—from the most
measured and lingering music to the most
rapid and accumulating enthusiasm—with
j a wondrous facility, which seems the im
mediate and burning overflow of inspira
tion. He ceases—and disappears —and
j there is no stir in the congregation. He
is the first to break his own spell;—he
j lias given out the concluding hymn of the
| service before a sound is heard from the
entranced and breathless multitude before
him !
We have digressed somewhat, perhaps,
in giving this sketch of Dr. Chauning'as
a preacher. literary man, however,
j his works are w few,"and so well known,
'that mere criticism would have been su
! pertluous. For the same reason wc do
j not take up room with unnecessary cx-
J tract. His writings are reprinted, and
j before the English public.
Miss Marti. vmvu lias the following
notion of Salem, in her second vol
ume. It will be seen that although she
iis not altogether accurate in her state
ments, she was disposed to be conipli-
I mentary and courteous towards us :
[Register.
Salem, Massachusetts, is a remarkable
I place. —This “city of peace” will be bet
; ter known hereafter for its commerce
than for its witch tragedy. It has a pop
ulation of Ul,offo; and more wealth in
proportion to its population than perhaps
; any town in the world. Its commerce is
j speculative, but vast and successful. It
is a frequent circumstance that a ship
i goes out without a cargo, for a voyage
round thfc world. In such a case, the
[c?p;aiS puts his elder childrcp to school,
! takes his wife and younger children, and
starts for some semi-barbarous place,
1 where he procures some odd kind of car
-1 go, which lie exchanges with advantage
i tor another, somewhere else; and sogOes
trafficking round the world, bringing
i home a freight of the highest value,
i The enterprising merchants of Salem
! are hoping to appropriate a large share of
! the whale fishery ; and their ships are
! penetrating the nothern ice.—They are
| favorite customers in the Russian ports,
1 and are familiar with the Sweedish and
j Norwegian coasts. They have nearly as
i much commerce with Bremen as with
j Liverpool. They speak of Fat al and
the other Azores as if they were close at
hand. The fruits of the Mediterranean
countries are on every table. They have
a large acquaintance at Cairo. They
know Napoleon’s grave at St. Helena,
and have wild tales to tell of Mosambi
qiu; &- Madagascar, and stores of ivory
to show from thence. They speak of the
power of the king of Muscat ; a®d are
sensible of the riches of the south east
coast of Arabia. It entered some wise
person’s head, a few seasons ago, to ex
port ice to India. - The loss by melting,
of the first cargo, was one fourth. The
rest was sold at six cents per lb. When
the value of this new import became
known, it wa# in great request ; and the
latter sales have been almost instantane
ous, at ten cents per lb :so that it is now
a good speculation to send ice 12,000
miles to supercede salt petre in cooling
slrerbet. The young ladies of America
have rare shells from Ceylon in their cab
inets ; and theif drawing rooms are deck
ed with Chinese copies of English prints.
I was amused with two ; the scene of
Hero swooning in the church, from ‘Much
Ado about Nothing:’ and Shakspcare be
tween Tragedy and Comedy. The faces
of Comedy and of Beatrice from the
hands of Chinese !—I should not have
found out the place of their second birth
bat for a piece of unfortunate foreshort
ening in each. I observed to a friend,
one day, upon the beauty of all the new
cordage that met iny eye, #Hky and bright.
He told me that it was made of Manilla
hemp®Of the value of which the British
seem unaware; though it has been intro
duced into Eftgland. He mentioned that
he had been (lie first importer of it.
Eight years before, 1)00 bales per annum
were imported ; now 20,000. The mer
chants doubt, whether Australia will be
able to surmount the disadvantage of a
deficiency of Navigable rivers. They
have hopes of 4 r an Diemen’s Land, think
well of Singapore, and acknowledge
great expectations from New Zealand.
Any bqdy will give you anecdotes from
Canton, and descriptions of the Society
ayft Sandwich Islands, they often slip up
tire western coasts of their two continents,
bring furs from the back regions of their
own land j glance up Andes
ttfcch at port* of Braffil and Guiana;
lodk ayput them in the West Indies, feel
ing these almost at home ; and land some
fair morning, at Salem, and walk home
as if they had done nothing very remar
kable.
Such is the commerce of Salem, in its
most meagre outline. Some illustration
of it inay be seen in the famous Salem
Museum. In regard to this institution, a
very harmless kind of monopoly exists.
No one is admitted of the Museum pro
prietary body who lias not doubled the
Cape Horn and Good Hope. Every body
is freely admitted to visit the institution;
and any one may contribute, either curi
osities or means of procuring them ; but
doubling of the Capes is an unalterable
condition of the honor of being a mem
ber.—This has the effect of preserving a
salutary interest among the members ot
the society, and respect among those who
cannot be admitted. The society have
laid by 20,(RNJ dollars, after having built
a handsome ball for the reception of their
curiosities : but a far more important ben
efit is that it has become discreditable to
return from a long voyage without some
novel contribution to the Museum. This
sets people inquiring what is already there,
and ensures a perpetual and valuable ac
cretion. lam glad, to have seen there
some Oriental curiosities, which might
never otherwise have blessed my sight :
especially some wonderful figures, made
of an unknown mixed metal, dug up, in
Java, being caricatures of tlie old Dutch
soldiers sent to guard-.the “first colonics.
A reasonably grave person might stand
laughing before these for half a day. I
had no idea there had been so much hy
nior in the Java people.
Old and Young. The confidence
between the old and young should never
be impaired. We wish to see a hearty
feeling between them for the moral effect
will he very great —and the association of
these should be Renewed, if possible. The
annexed extract from an essay on this sub
ject, will suggest thoughts that may ensue
in some good thing. Read and ponder.
‘There is an increasing disposition on
the part of the young and the old to clas
sify their pleasures according to tßeir age.
Those pastimes whichjuecd to be enjoyed
by both together, are now separated. This
is un evil of too serious a character to
pass unfißT, unlamented or unrebuked.
It is easy to refer hack to day# when pa
rents were more happy with their chil
dren, and children more honorable and
useful to parents than at present. It is
not long since the old and the young
were seen together in the l%thsome
daneb and the merry play. Xnd why this
change I Why do we find that, within a
few.years, the old have abandoned amuse-
J. W. FROST, EQJTOR.
NUMBER 10,
j merits to the young ? It is that they think
! their children can profit more by their a
musements than if they were present 1
'lf this be the impression it is to be re-
Igretted. No could they possibly
■ adopt so injurious to the character of
j their children. For youth need the di
j rection and advice of old age, and age
! requires the exhileration and cheerful
ness of youth. How many lonely even
ings would bo enlivened—how many dark
visions of the future would be dissipated,
■ and bow many hours of gloom and des
pondency would be put to flight, if fath
ers would keep pace with therr sons, and
! mothers with their daughters, in the in
j nocent pleasures of life. Here, it ap
pears to me, is the grand secret of happi
! ness for the young and old. For the old
| who are apt to dwell on the glories
the past and to see nothing that is lovely
in the present ; and for the young, who
throw too strong and gaudy a light upon
■ the present and the future. Nature did
not so intend it. So long as there is life^
j she intended we. should enjoy it. And
the barrier which has, by some unac
countable mishap, been thrown between
the young and the old, therefore, is great
ly to be lamented. But how shall it be
removed? llow shall we get back again
to the good old times of the merry husk
ing, the joyous dance, the happy com
mingling in the same company, the priest
and ids deacon, the father and his child,
the husljajid and wife?’
Fair Play. A nobleman residing at
a castle in Italy, was about celebrate
his marriage feast.—All the elements were
propitious except the ocean, whicK hadF
been so boisterous as to deny the very
necessary appendage of fish. On the
very morning of the feast, however, a
poor fisherman made his appearance, with
a turbot so large, that it seemed to have
been created for the occasion. s#oy per
vaded the castle, and the fisherman was
ushered with his prize in the saloon,
where the nobleman in presence of
his visiters, requested him to put what
price he thought proper on the fish, and
it should be instantly paid shim.—One
hundred lashes, said the fisherman, on
my bare back, is the price of my fisb,
and I will not bate one strand of whip
- . .1- l__.— /m LI »-
his guests we|e not a little astonished, but
our chapman was resolute, and remon
strace was in vain. At length the no
bleman exclaimed, well, well, the fellow
is a humorist, and the fish we must hate,
but lay on lightly, and let the price be
paid in our presence. After tiiif lashes
had been administered, hold, hold, ex
claimed the fisherman;! have a partner in
this business, and it is fitting that he
should receive his share'. What! are
there two such madcaps in the world T
exclaimed the nobleman; name him, and
he shall be sent for immediately, You
need not go far for him, said the fisher
man, you will find your gate, -Wt
the shape of your own porter, who woura
not let me in, until I, promised that, he
should have the half of whatever I should
receive for my turbot.. Oh, oh, safH the
nobleman, bring him up instantly, he shall
receive his stipulated moiety with the
strictest justice. This ceremony being
finished, he discharged the porter and
amply rewarded the fisherman.
A MAN MARRIED THREE TIMES Iff ONE
day. The Duke of Orleans, Prince Roy
al of Fiyince, performed this extraordin
ary feat, and actually survived the oper
ation. Fortunately he married the same
lady each time, or it would have killed
him outright. The Prince was a Roman
Catholic, and his bride a Lutheran. The
Laws required a civil marriage, and each
of the parties insisted on a marriage ac
cording to the rites of their respective
churches. The civil marriage was per
formed in the gallery of Henry II; it
was solemnized according to Catholic
worship, in the chapel of the Trinity ;
and according to the Lutheran rites, in
the gallery of Louis Philipe. We pre
sume, as the wedding was thrice celebra
ted, the expense, and magnifience, and
enjoyment were in the same proportion,
that three times the usual quantity of
cake was eaten, three tintes the usual
quantity of wine was swallowed, and every
thing pertaining to the union was carri*
ed out on a tripple scale. May it bo
three times as happy as royal
sfaerally are. But one mqtriage we
nough for common folks.—We happened,
! one day, to gft married ourself;—and,
i w ithout wishing to discour ageake young'
:who are full of anticipation mro hope—
|we can say, in the honesty of our heart,
I (although we might not venture to whis
per it to our better half,) that once was
j enough for us, and we never desire to go
! through with such a ceremony^^in.
Labor at the West.— Che demand
j for laborers at the west is so great, that
at the last accounts from Indiana, the
J superintendents at the public works were
* paying from twenty to twenty-five dollar!
la month, besides board.