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BtttnsHiirU 3Mioc<vtc. DAVIS A SHORT, PUBLISHERS. VOIUMB Z. The Brunswick Advocate, Is published every Thursday Morning, in th city 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. O’All letters and communications to the Editor or Publishers in relation to the paper, must be POST PAID to ensure attention. O’ADVERTISEMENTS 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, added, 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. Qj-N. 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 ten 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. S.iles 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 in 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. Notice for the sale of Personal Property, must be given in like manner, Forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Es tate must be published for Forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must be published for Four Months. Notice for leave to sell Negroes, must be published for Four Months, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. PROSPECTUS OF THE A WEEKLY PAPER, PUBLISHED AT BRUNSWICK, GLYNN COUNTY, GEORGIA. The causes which render necessary the es tablishment of this Press, and its claims to the support of the public, can best be presented by the statement of a few facts. Brunswick possesses a harbor, which for ac ccssibility, spaciousness and security, is une qualled on the Southern Coast- This, of itself 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 a great commercial city. But when to this is added the singular salubrity of the cli mate, free from those noxious exhalations gen erated by the union of salt and river waters, and which are indeed “charnel airs” to a white population, it must be admitted that Brunswick contains all the requisites for a healthy and populous city. Thus much has been the work of Nature ; but already Art has begun to lend her aid to this favored 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 of Brunswick the vast and fertile country through which flow the Altamaha, and its great tribu aries. A Rail Road will shortly be commenc ed, terminating at Pensacola, thus uniting the waters of the Gulf of Mexico with the Atlantic Ocean. Other Rail Roads intersecting the State in various directions, will make Bruns wick their depot, and a large portion of the trade from the Valley of the Mississippi will yet find its way to her wharves. Such, in a few words, are 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 must add so much to the importance and prosperity of 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, to furnish information relating to all the great works of Internal Improvement 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 the day would be uiproper 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 the advocates of Internal Improvement—to the considerate and reflecting—do we apply tor aid and support. Teems —Three dollars per annum in ad vance, or four dollars at the end of the year. J. W. FROST, Editor. DAVIS A SHORT, Publishers. BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 19,1837. POETRY. I WOULD NOT BE A CHILD AGAIN. Full oft have poets tried and long, The spells of verse, the charms of song, To prove that childhood’s years are free From cares which haunt maturity,— That all its joys are pure and bright As morning in its embryo light,— That if at times a cloud o’ercast Its happ ness, it will not last, Bui leaves its innocence the while More joyous in recovered smile ; Fond seers ye try your arts in vain, I would not be a child again ! Full many the sorrows, tears and cares, Which round our manhood set their snares; The friends of youth may fall away, Like dew before the face of day, May shun the spot where Fortune low’rs, Nor leave a trace of what has been Upon the once-loved, happy scene. Has any felt the bitter throes, Nor deem’d his manhood fraught with woes? Yet with its pleasures and its pain, I would not be a child again ! Full many the tales which life might tell, That 'gainst our better hopes rebel, — Os heart's affections torn and sear, Too long to tell, too sad to hear, — How plighted vows, and love’s best token, Have been, in times of trial, broken, — How every earliest, fondest tie Has sunk into obscurity,— How all we strove to cheer and bless Has melted into nothingness ! Yet, with its pleasures and its pains, I would not be a child again ! What though its little sorrows pass Like sand within an hour glass ; Quick though they move, and lightly press To tender years they bring distress. The gentle moth, that round the light Unconscious wings its airy flight, Caught by the blaze, to ruin flies, And in ignited torture dies, When forms of coarser, hardier frame, Would scarce have felt or owned the flame: So slight the blot that stains the page Os childhood’s virgin, tender age. What are its pleasures ? Are they those Wh cli life maturer courts and knows? Th happy brute that ranges free, Joyous in recent liberty, Owns all that childhood’s life endears— Its pains—its pleasures—hopes and fears. ’Tis but the spirit Nature gives To each created tiling that lives ; And man n common with the rest, Beneath such influence is blest, T 11 reason opens to his mind Aspir ngsof a nobler kind. When Reason burns with kindled beam, And wakes him from h s earlier dream, — When Intellect's fast bursting ray The mists of Childhood scares away,— Who would not brave increase of care, If bliss augmented were his share ! Who would not yield the joys of sense For those that crown intelligence ? With all its pleasures and its pain, Who, then, would be a child again * BOYHOOD. BY RICHARD HOWITT. O, blessed boy, how full of joy And buoyant life art thou ! Nor yet dependent upon hope, The world is Eden now. Thy thoughts are cast upon no past— Thou hast not to complain, Os being as a barren waste, Os languor and of pain. Th ne eyes are bright, thy smiles are light, Thou dreamest not of care ; Fierce passion lights not in thy breast The beacon of despair. But thou must grow, must have, and know, — They heart must be engrossed With hope’s warm blessings undefined, And memories of the lost. I gaze on thee, and hear, and see, And feel what I have been ; And memories come from myriad things Which may no more be seen. With what is gained*my heart is pained, And what has been resigned ; For sorely pays the bleeding heart For treasures of the mind. The ebbing tide swells back with pride— The bird forewarned, that flies Before the wild and wintry blast, Will come with summer skies ; But thou, my heart! canst have no part In this sweet scene I see, For never, like returning spring, Can boyhood come o’er the*. MISCELLANY. Dont Bea Talker. One half the mischief in the world is done by talking. And one half through fife, is the result of our saying what we might just as well not have said. There’s much wisdom in the old maxim, ‘keep your mouth shut and your ears open’—there is rely upon it. I do not know any body, in any situa tion or profession in life, to whom the ad vice is not applicable. It is sometimes said that the lawyers live by talking—that talking is their trade, and so on ; but the fact is, the lawyers arc apt to talk too much, as any body, and to suffer as much by it : to spin out a long argument, they necessarily fall into the habit of dealing in fancy more than in facts—saying things about parties and witnesses that do much harm and no good—and their reputation for candor will generally diminish in the same proportion as that for loquacity in creases. To hear some men at the bar, you would suppose that if they were held up by the feet, the words would run out of their mouths by mere force of gravity, for a week at a time, without, disturbing their brains at all. A preacher may talk too much. One of the best sermons ever delivered in the world, was the sermon on the Mount. You may read it, as it is reported, in fifteen minutes. And iho’ its style and power are unapproachable, its brevity might well be ofteiier imitated. Our legislators talk too much. About nine tenths of all the speech making in Congress, and our legislatures, is the mere sounding brass and tinkling cymbal of vanity and egotism. Your really sensible men—such as Ben Franklin and Roger Sherman, never got up unless they had something to say, and always sat down as soon as they had said it. Our politicans talk too much. It is really refreshing, and as uncommon as it is refreshing, to hear a sensible man talk on this topic for fifteen minutes. But if one listens to the sweet rant of the day, the whole science of politics seems to have become twisted into a Chinese puzzle, that nobody can find the beginning or end of. When I find a neighbor caught in the meshes of a slander suit, I feel more sym pathy than indignation. He has proba ably said, in a moment of excitement, what his cooler judgement would have re strained, what he does not deliberately approve himself, and probably, is sorry for. But the thing is said, his pride, is up, and he has in the end to open his pocket for having opened his mouth. If he will listen to my short lesson, he will not be caught in such a scrape again. Don’t talk too much. When I hear that a man and and his wife do not live happily together—read of an application for divorce—am told of agreements for separation—or any thing of that kind, I am always suspicious that I know the cause, that I perfectly under stood the true secret of the difficulty. Mister is occasionally petulent and huffy, and Madame lectures instead of humors him. Each party stands upon the martial hill of rights, until it ends in a legal bill of divorce. There is no interfering in such matters. But I wish I could whis per in the ear of every husband and ev ery wife too — Don't talk too much. Some young people have a notion that they can talk each other into matrimony, It is a mistake; in such a delicate matter as this, the tongue had better be content ed with playing a subordinate part. The eye can tell a better story—the languaga of actions will make a better impression the love that grows up in the silent sun shine which congenial hearts reflect upon each other, is the healthiest and most en during. The manner will always sink deeper than the language of affection. But this is a matter which people are so hent upon managing in their own way, that 1 doubt whether my advice will be worth the ink and the paper. It may be a singular conceit, but I’ll tell you what I like. I like to look at that quiet, contemplative, thoughtful, old man, who sits in his armchair, his chin resting between his thumb and fingers, reading Seneca through a pair of specta cles. He likes old fashioned ways, old friends, old books. That old man makes no noise in the world, because he is a reg ular built thinker. You give him your opinion about men and things, and he hears it ; tell him facts and he examines and satisfies himself about them. Ask his opinion, and if you get it, it will come as slow and as cautiously as if he believ ed it to be worth something. And so it is. He goes upon the principle that a man is not bound to speak—but if he does speak he is bound to say just ex actly what is right; and until he is sure of saying that, he says nothing. What a world this would be if we were all quiet old men in spectacles, and thought a great deal more than we talked. “HEAR ME FOR MT CAUSE.” [From Boston Courier.] MECHANICS’ FAIR. The success of the exhibition, we are gratified in saying, amply realizes the wishes of all its friends and promoters. The throng of visiters continues to be immense, and vast numbers are unsatis fied till they have made repeated visits ; we believe not a spectator comes away without a conviction that the display is highly creditable to the talents and indus try of our countrymen. The odd mixture and endless variety of objects that strike the spectator’s eye on a first view, has, as we remarked yester day, quite a bizarre effect ; and we imag ine the sight of so many comfortable ar ticles of household furniture, and nice litte items that go to make up a domestic establishment, must suggest to single gen tlemen—and why should we not add, sin gle ladies too, the idea of going to housekeeping ; for what can they want that is not to be found here ? They may begin with their wedding cake, for here is a thumping loaf, weighing no less than 600 pounds, not to mention a plain white roll as big as a back-log, aud a genuine Yankee rye and Indian bouncer, of the size of a respectable bomb-shell. For a wedding suit, we think the man, or the woman either, who goes further than Faneuil Hall just now, would be likely to fare worse. Silk, satin, linen, muslin, tow-cloth, broadcloth, flannel, calico, hats, bonnets, hos e, gloves, stocks, dickeys, and starch to stiffen them, soft beds, and comfortable bed quilts to cover them, car pets, curtains, toys for the children, and new brooms to sweep every thing clean ; these and thousands of other desirable commodities lie courting the gaze of the behoi'jer in magnificent profuision, and very few of them would lose anything of their character by a scrutinizing ex amination. We shall not, of course, attempt any thing like a regular catalogue of the ob jects, but we wil endeavor to specify cur sorily some of the most remarkable. To begin with the machinery and the more usely’ articles in Quincy Hall. The spec tator, on entering the hall from the bridge, is first struck with the operation of a steam-engine, which is in full activity, and exhibits, in a very satisfactory man ner, the effect of the great wonder-work ing power of hot water. Next we behold a great variety of fire engines, forcing pumps, and similar enginery. Then follow machines for dressing staves, crimping, punching copper plates, sawing, plaining, mortising, making window-sashes, wea ving stockings, silk, spinning, twisting cord, shelling corn, winnowing, threshing, hammering granite, cutting out shoes, shovelling, sticking cards, etc. etc. etc. etc. As for the washing machines—we give it up entirely. No people on the face of the earth ought to be half so clean as we: —washing machines ! we left off coun ting them many years ago,—and here are —we don’t know how many, aud all of them as ingenious and notional as any six score that w r e ever saw in a show together. But to go on. Next we have steam appa ratus for warming houses, stoves, grates, ranges,iron fireplaces, kitchens,tea kettles, and a countless variety of culinary appa ratus, so neat and ingenious that we could not help feeling somewhat of that strong desire, which, it is said, always haunted the great Napoleon, namely, the desire to cook every man’s dinner. Then we open our eyes again and see a machine for ex cavating the earth, or, as a visiter from Vermont called it, “an everlasting scratch er.” Next follow triphammers, laying down the law with gestures most emphat ic, damask, power-looms, printing press es, types, stereotype plates, windmills, and a host of models of steam-boilers, locom otives, and machinery, multiform and in describable. The eye is next attracted by a bright display of polished cutlery, highly finish ed, saw plates of numerous patterns, au gres, chisels, iron, and bronze shives, locks, screws, butts, coach springs, sleigh bells, brass wire, gilt buttons of fine workmanship, muskets, fowling pieces and rifles of new invention and very in genious. We were in particular struck with the rifle of Childs &. Nichol’s in vention, which contains nine charges at once and loads at the breach, by a very simple process. Further on we meet with more machines, ploughs, scythes, axes,* shovels, patent balances, weaver’s, reeds, carpenter’s planes, some splendid mahog ony doors, machines for perspective draw ing, &c. Passing to the other division of the hall, we encounter some fine specimens of saddlery, harnesses, engine hose, and other manufactures of leather ; next fol low some specimens of cooper’s work, casks and tubs as exquisitely finished as if designed for cabinet furniture. Near these are four beautiful brass and iron cannon. Next, the model, of a man-of war’s mast attracts the attentioo of the cu rious, showing the method by which the several pieces, of wood are joined to form one great spar. Here are also the models of a dry dock, steering wheels, ship’s blocks, models of steamboats, railways, &,c. A row boat belongig to the Tiger club, lies here at full length to attract the gaze of all who are fond of water-sport ing ; this craft is exceedingly elegant and well finished. Next follow a seventy-four and a frigate, perfect models, about six or eight feet in length. And now again for the laud service, we have cheese-presses, horse-rakes,book-trimmers, printing press es, leather trunks—machines again for weaving, twisting, turning, winding, rol ling, and what not. Such is a general view of the con tents of Quincy Hall, aud although the articles comprised in this division are less brilliant of hue than those which crowd the opposite building, and do not half e qual them in extent and variety, yet the inspection of these alone will amply re pay the visiter for the cost of his ticket. The machinery alone is worth a day’s ex amination. We will now attempt a slight glance at Faneuil Hall. The walls are covered with pictures, carpeting, and articles of brilliant dye ; the pillars are dressed with counterpanes and hearth-rugs, wrought with bright pictures, and in the windows are placed the choicest specimens of beautiful stained glass, cut glass ware, &,c. which had a dazzling effect in the bright sunlight of yesterday. The steps on the north side of the hall are occupied mostly with manufactures of woollen. Such as fine broadcloth, coatings, cassimcres, flannels, baize, See. of uncommon fine ness and beauty. Some neat suits of clothing from the Boston tailors here at tract the notice of the fashionables. Here are also fine fur caps, hats, capes, &,c. and beautiful samples of silk fringe and tas sells for curtains. There is also a large display of silk stocks, with gloves and hoisery, as also some neatly finished mu sical instruments, flutes, clarionets, horns and other wind instruments of the small kind ; the larger ones are elsewhere. Near the door are some barrels of refined white sugar, very beautiful, from the re finery at South-Boston : numerous lots of marbled and letter paper, bar and cake soap, and models of the two extremities of the human form divine, a head on one side and a leg on the other : this last is specialy worthy the attention of one-leg ged gentlemen ; it has a spring in the knee that seems to perform the operation of kicking as well as any limb of real flesh and bone ; let limpers try it on—af ter the fair is over. The display of manufactures of silk is not so large as we could wish, yet it is nevertheless quite flattering. We noticed samples of sewing silk and twist from Northamton, Amherst, and other places. The bandanna and flag handkerchiefs are of a very good quality and color. We trust the next exhibition will show as great a variety and number of articles as the present one does of wollen cloths. Since writing the above, we observe that the throng of visiters yesterday even surpasses that of the preceding days. The fine weather of yesterday enticed a broad all ages and sexes : and all who are out of doors find themselves irresis tibly drawn toward the Fair, as the great central point of attraction. We shall go on with our account of the proceedings to-morrow. A Man of the World. Fielding says, that ‘in order to understand men, it is necessary that one should be born a genius for that purpose.’ Your men of the world think so too; hence, they are the favorites of nature, and as such, are superior to ordinary mortals, and have a right in consequence to look down on in feriority. We are not going to upset Fielding, Bulwer, ct id omne genus; we only say that we detest the boast and swagger which your men of the world take upon themselves as a natural right, peculiar to those who come into the world with an extra eye to read that vol ume of mysteries, the human heart, locked up, like the ark of old, from the vision of the vulgar. Your man of the world is the mo6t bustling of bodies, and looks like Atlas with the weight of the globe incumbent on his shoulders. His Jips form an ora cle of human wisdom, and it is rank pro fanity to question aught that emanates from su hoiy a source. His contempt for inferior understandings is most supreme; and his humor, like a foarniug cataract, flows and boils with sublime rage, if im pertinence dare question his profundity,or contest his right to monopolize the gleams of knowledge which light up the human mind. He is the greatest and most or thodox of bigots, and takes good care that the stultified head of heresy be scathed by the lightnings of his indignation. He uses old saws with a wink; and if he chooses to bless you with a squint, you are unpardonable if you do not cheer him with a smile. He is a stickler for anti quity, and hates smooth ehins and Mack J. W. FROST, EDITOR. NUMBBR Mb heads for their greenness and folly. He is the repository of all the fragments of wisdom that are left of shipwrecked ages, which have floated down on the stream of time. He gathers together the bits and ends of sayings which go to make op the traditionary lore of a country; and this, unbooked knowledge renders him sager than a man of much reading. In fine, your man of the world is a very great man, and is to be respected, whether Hd discourses of the evangelists at a horse race, or flourishes political eloquence, and that Helicon which inspires it, a beer-mug, in the unquiet recesses ofsome venerable ale-house. This may be called an ‘outline in pen cil’ of a man of the world, when the shad ows of fifty years or so are upon him ; when he has exhausted the fountains of his wild blood, and turned out sage and philosopher. A man must run a long and labyrinthine gauntlet, under the scourge of the vices, before he can aspire to the character. Os course, it is right that such an one should usurp the throne of wisdom, as his shoulders have been legit imately invested with the purple of sin.— The right to rule can only be predicated on a youth of prostitution, a manhood of degredation, and an old age of impeni tence. Perhaps you may have seen a mao of the world, under the shadow of • tavern sign post, discoursing, wisdom to the sim ple hearted villagers. He has the infalli ble marks of a truly great tnan legible in his face ; bloated veins, and an indented excrescence, surmounting his nose, and, flaming like a fiery beacon with the con densed heat of unnumbered barrels of all ‘proofs.’ His libations to Bacchus have given a remarkable clarification to the emanations of his intellect, as is discov ered in the vividness with which his wisdom glares on the understandings of all who hear him. A flippant attorney is, perhaps, at his side; and the worthy tarain discuss national politics, while the unso phisticated lookers on stand mute, admire mg the prodigious display of genius. The village magistrate imbibes ideas which as tonish his natural stock of well-behaved ones, that never strayed beyond the hill top in the distance, or flew off on a wild goose chase after the phantoms of knowl edge The man of the world lays down his positions, and fortifies them with the maxims of his predecessor, who sleeps m the church yard. The pettifogger capit ulates to his invincible adversary and ac knowledges in him one whose dogmas it was irreverent to doubt. Your man of the world never goes to church. His experience furnishes princi ples for the government of men, vastly su perior to all that Christianity ever dream ed oi- He has an intuitive perception in to the minds of children, and can predict to a nicety, the amount of power their in tellectual machinery will be able, in time to come, to generate. He- believes that scarcely an honest man, besides himself lives; and as to women they are not a whit better than they ought to be. Last ly your man of the world is the chief light of the world, and when he dies, the hea vens will be hung in gloom, and the edi fice of society will fall into dilapidation'; as he while living, was its chief prop and support.—[Knickerbocker. Malediction on a Hissing Audience. So I go creeping on since I was lamed with that cursed fall from off the top of Drury Lane Theatre into the pit, some thing more than a year ago. However, I have been free of the house ever since,, and the house was pretty free with me up on that occasion. Hang ’em, how they hissed! it was not a hiss neither, but a sort of frantic yell, like a congregation of mad geese, with roaring sometimes like bears, mows and mops like apes, some times snakes, that hiss’d me into madness. ’TwaslikeSt. Anthony’s temptations.— Mercy on us, that God should give his fa vorite children, men, mouths to speak, with, to discourse rationally, to premise smoothly, to flatter agreeably, to encour age warmly, to counsel wisely, to sin with, to drink with, and to kiss with; and that they should turn them into mouths of ad ders, bears, wolves, hyenas, and whistle like tempests, and emit breath through them like distillations of aspic poison, to asperse and vilify the innocent labor* of their fellow creatures who are desiroos to please them ! Heaven be pleased tomato the teeth rot out of them all, therefote !~— Make them a reproach, and all that pass by them to- 101 l out their tongues at them) Blind mouths as Milton somewhere calls them.—[Charles Lamb. A Wire’s Points. A wife should have nine qualifications which begin with the letter P, via: Prettiness, Precision, Prudence, Penetration, Perseverance, Pie ty. Patience, Politeness, and Portico.— That which should be first of aU aidant of all in consideration, is nowadays hrt of all—and that which should bo laat of all in consideration, whioh ia portMQ, jj| now become first of all, mod ai jfl, Mi with mm all in all. f ;