Brunswick advocate. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1837-1839, August 10, 1837, Image 1

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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.