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l^rungtoick
BY CHARLES DAVIS.]
VOftVBKB 2.
BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE.
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PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, IN THE CITY OF BRUNSWICK, GLYNN COUNTY, GEORGIA.
BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 6,1838.
POETRY. |
Lord Byron, upon his departure from En
gland, wrote the following beautiful and ten
der verses, which may well stand in compari
son with the celebrated lines on a similar sub
sequent occasion,—“Fare thee well, and if
forever.”—[Eng. paper.
’Tis done! and shivering in the gale
The bark unfurls her snowy sail;
And whistling o'er the bended mast,
Loud sings on high the fresh’ning blast,
And I must from this land be gone,
Because I oannot love but one.
But could I be what I have been,
And could I see what 1 have seen—
Could I repose upon the breast
Which once my warmest wishes blest,
I should not seek another zone,
Because I cannot love but one.
'Tis long since I beheld that eye
Which gave me bliss or misery;
And I have striven, but in vain,
Never to think of it again;
For though I fly from Albion,
I still can love but only one.
As some lone bird without a mate,
My weary heart is desolate;
I look around and cannot trace
One friendly smile or welcome face;
And even in crowds I’m still alone,
Because I cannot love but one.
The poorest, veriest wretch on earth
Still finds some hospitable hearth,
Where friendship's or love’s soft glow
May smile in joy or soothe in woe;
But friend or love I have none,
Because I cannot love but one.
I go! but wheresoe’er I flee,
There’s not an eye will weep for me,
There's not a kind congenial heart,
Where I can claim the msanest part;
Nor thou who hast my hopes undone,
Will sigh, although I love but one.
To think of every earthly scene—
Os what we are, and what we’ve been—
Would whelm some softer hearts with
woe;
But mine, alas! has stood the blow,
Yet still beats on as it began,
And never truly loves but one.
And who that dear, lov’d one may be,
Is not for vulgar eyes to see;
And why that love was early crost,
Thou knowest the best—l feel the most:
But few that dwell beneath the eun
Have loved so long, and loved but one.
I’ve tried another's fetters, too,
With charms perchance as fair to view;
And I would fain have lov'd as well—
But some unconquerable spell
Forbade my bleeding breast to own
A kindred care for aught but one.
’Twould soothe to take one lingering
view,
And bless thee in my last adieu;
Yet wish I not those eyes to weep
For him who wanders o'er the deep—
Though wheresoe'er my bark may run,
I love but thee—l love but one.
?I I§CELL A A 1.
THE SCHOOLMASTER SCHOOLED.
'[“Smike,” a poor, jaded, spiritless boy, is
dragged into the school room to be flogged
for having attempted to run away from the cru
el oppressions to which he had been subjected.
Mr. Squeers armed with a strong supple, wax
ended, and new instrument of torture, in
quires of the culprit if he has any thing to say
for himself. The scene which ensues, is not
exceeded by the kindred one in Roderick Ran
dom, wherein a tyrannical schoolmaster is vis
ited with similar punishment:]
“Nothing, I suppose ?” said Squeers, with a
diabolical grin.
Smike glanced around, and his eye rested
for an instant on Nicholas, as if he had ex
pected him to intercede; but his look was riv
etted on his desk.
“Have you any thing to say?” demanded
Squeers' again, giving his right arm two or
three flourishes, to try’ its power and supleness.
“Stand a little out of the way Mrs. Squeers
my dear; I’ve hardly got room enough.”
“Spare me, sir!” cried Smike.
“Oh! that’s all, is it?” said Squeers. “Yes,
I’ll*flog you within an inch of your life, and
spare you that”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Mrs. Squeers, "that’s
a good ’on.
“I was driven to it,” said Smike, faintly, and
casting another imploring look about him.
“Driven to do it, were you ?” said Squeers—
“Oh! it wasn’t your fault; it was mine, I
suppose—eh ?
“A nasty, ungrateful, pig-headed, brutish
obstinate, sneaking dog,” exclaimed Mrs.
Squeers, taking Smike’s head under her arm,
and administering a cuff at every epithet
“what does he mean by that?”
“Stand aside, my dear,” replied Squeers.
“We’ll try and find out”
Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her
j exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy
! firmly in his grip; one desperate cut had fallen
I on his body—he was winching from the last and
uttering a scream of pain—it was raised again,
i and again about to fall—when Nicholas Nic
kleby suddenly starting up, cried, “Stop!” in
i a voice that made the rafters ring.
; “Who cried stop ?” said Squeers, turning
savagely rcsund.
“1,” said Nicholas, stepping forward. “This
must not go on.”
“Must not go on!” cried Squeers, almost in
a shriek.
“No!” thundered Nicholas.
Aghast and stupitied by the boldness of the
interferenee, Squeers released his hold of
Smike, and falling back a pace or two, gazed
upon Nicholas with looks that were positively
frightful.
“I say must not,” repeated Nicholas, nothing
daunted ; '■‘■shall not. I will prevent it.”
Squeers continued to gaze upon him with
his eyes starting out of his’ head; but astonish
ment had actually for the moment bereft hirn
of speech.
“You have disregarded all my quiet interfe
rence in the miserable lad’s behalf,” said Nich
olas ; “returned no answer to the letter in
which I begged forgiveness for him, and offer
ed to be responsible that he would remain
quietly here. Dou’t blame me for this pub
lic interference. You have Drought it upon
yourself, not I.”
“Sit down, beggar!” screamed Squeers, al
most beside himself with rage, and seizing
Smike as he spoke.
Wretch,’’ rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, “touch
him at your peril! I will not stand by and
see it done; my blood is up, and I have the
strength of ten such men as you. Look to
yourself, for by Heaven, I will not spare you,
if you drive me on.”
“Stand back!” cried Squeers, blandishing
his weapon.
“I have a long series of insults to avenge,”
said Nicholas, flushed with passion; “and my
indignation is aggravated by the dastardly
cruelties practised on helpless infancy in this
foul den. Have a care, for if you do raise the
devil within me, the consequences shall fall
heavily upon your own head.”
“He had scarcely spoken, when Squeers, in
a violent outbreak of wrath, and a cry like the
howl of a wild beast, spat upon him, and struck
him a blow across the face with his instrument
of torture, which raised up a bar of livid flesh
as it was inflicted. Smarting with the agony
of the blow, concentrating into that one mo
ment all his feelings of rage, scorn, and indig
nation, Nicholas sprang upon him, wrested the
weapon from his hand, and pinning him by the
throat, beat the ruffian till he roared for mercy.
“The boys—with the exception of Master
Squeers, who, coming to his father’s assistance,
harrassed the enemy in the rear—moved not
hand nor foot; but Mrs. Squeers, with many
shrieks for aid, hung on to the tail of her
partner’s coat,and endeavored to drag him from
his infuriated adversary. * * * Becoming tired
of the noise and uproar, and feeling that tits
arm grew weak beside, he threw all his remain
ing strength into half a dozen of finishing cuts,
and flung Squeers from him, with all the force
he could muster. The violence of his fall pre
cipitated Mrs. Squeers completely over an ad
jacent form, and Squeers, striking his head a
gainst it in his descent, lay at his full length
on the ground, stunned and motionless.”
The Prisoner of Rochelle. Here is a
scene from the vaudeville of “The Prisoner of
Rochelle’ —which kept the audience in a roar
of laughter each night of its performance.
We copy it with the permission of Miss Bun
yir. for whom the play #as expressly written
by J. H. Hewitt, Esq. Corporal Cartouch
amuses himself with going through the manu
al exercise, while Lcza, seated at her work
table, abstractedly questions him concerning
matrimony.—[Balt. Transcript.
Leza—lf a girl were to fall in love with
you, Corporal, what would you do?
Cartouch—Present arms!
L—She would doubtless look to you for
C—Support!
L—And then what a heavy burden you’d
have to
C—Carry!
L—Your butcher and baker would have
to
C—Charge!
L—Your prospects, of course, would not
C—Advance!
li—And you’d have to
C—’Bout face!
L—And never have any
C—Rest!
L—Now, Corporal, pray give me your
C—Attention!
L—A man of your years is not able to bear
such a
C—Load!
L—You are not in your
C—Prime!
L—Your wife may
C—’Bout!
L—Leave you, but she will soon
C—Return!
L—And then you’d have to bear all on
your
C—Shoulder!
L—Would you be
C—Ready!
L—l think you would have some other
C—Aim!
L—And you’d throw aH your epistles into
the
C—Fire! (Fires the musket.i
Tight Lacing. A lady of high talents,
(Mrs. L. H. Sigourney) writes as follows:
‘Habits of tight lacing are the more danger
ous because no one will acknowledge them.
These evils that shun the light, and shelter
themselves in subterfuges are ever the most
difficult to remedy. A great part of that en
ergy which might tend to reform, is wasted in
helping them to find their hiding places. Has
any young lady been known to acknowledge
that she was destroying herself; that she was
even uncomfortable from tight lacing? Yet
the suppressed sigh, the suffused countenance,"
the constrained movement, express what the
lips deny. Pulmonary and spinal diseases, lu
nacy and the grave, reveal the rest’
The Army and Navy Chronicle men
tions as a rumor, that the Ship of the Line
Ohio is to be fitted out for the Mediterra
nean station, under the command of Com
modore Hi LI
THE SILVER MINE.
In days gone by, there lived in the far
famed ‘Queen,’ a silver smith, who had
accumulated a large fortune by means
which were known only to himself—and
the devil. He was a regular built Shylock,
and we well reinember when a boy, to have
incurred his wrath by accidentally bringing
a ball in contact with his bow window
and breaking a pane of glass, for which
juvenile indiscretion, we received from
him, a fine trouncing, being obliged, by a
writ of socladorum, to shell out a real Mex
ican, an article in those days that would
keep a man from starving at least a month.
But to our yarn. This silver grinder
waxed old and rich, and not a chick nor
child had he to leave his spelter to, when
he should ‘shuffle off the mortal coil,’ and
prepare to settle a standing account he
had with the other world; with which
however we have nothing to do at present.
Ono day, while the old codger was re
clining in his maple bottomed chair, look
ing over his old spectacles, and dreaming,
doubtless, of some chemical process, by
which he could, like alchimists of old,
convert every thing he touched into gold,
a low tap at his door aroused him from his
lethargy, expecting a fat customer, he
quickly rose and opened it, when in stalk
ed a six foot Buckeye, with a broad brim
med wool hat, and a certain je nc scais
quoi in his manner, which plainly told that
he was a back woodsman, and knew no
more about the world and the things in it,
than a Malay Indian. Affer surveying
Shylock for a minute, and the glittering
case before him, he said:
‘Stranger, are you the feller what
knows what’s silver?’
‘Certainly, sir, if twenty five years work
ing it can give me any knowledge of it.’
‘Well, so I thought, for so every body
told me; and that’s the cause I’m come
forty five miles through the mud and rain
to see you,’ he said, at the same time lay
ing down his beaver and bending bis mas
todon body in a slautendicular manner in
a chair.
‘Yon know that I have buyed up fifty
acres of ground, in Butler county, and
live on Snake VJreek, Just alongside tlie
fork; wal, some of the ground was good,
and some wasn’t, and some so poor that it
would’nt raise yallar taters; wal, one day
me and one of our people went a fishing
lin Snake Creek, and before we went,
| went to dig some worms for bait, when
; Bill Black said let’s turn over this log.
| and I found this here piece, which the
! minister says looks like silver.’
The eye of the old mail brightened; and
i extending his hand lie took the uncouth
lump, and wiping his spects, examined it
with trembling hand—quickly rose, and
without noticing liis guest, walked into an
other room, and returned in about five
minutes.'
‘You say you found this on your land ?’
‘Yes and there’s plenty more of it; for
I have dug up sich lumps afore.’
‘Plenty of it, you say?’
‘Yes, lots of it!’
The old man remained in statu quo for
sometime, when an idea appeared to strike
him, he said:
‘My dear friend, this resembles silver;
if you will show me the ground you got it
out of, I will decide upon it.’
‘Well, if you’ll get into that wagon out
there, I’ll drive you therein a short time.’
‘Thank you, I’ll start immediately, for
I want to know, for your satisfaction, the
extent and quality of this ore.’
Jn ihey went, and off they drove, and
early the next morning they arrived at
Snake Creek, and the silver smith was soon
shown the identical spot where the lump
was found; when after carefully examining
the ground he said:
‘You say that you have dug up more of
this stuff here?’
‘Sartin; jist wait till I get a pick-axe,
and I’ll show you?’
The clod hopper brought the pick and
commenced digging, apparently without
casting his eye on any particular spot;
when To! and behold! another lump of a
large size comes up; and the old man
I trembles at the indubitable evidence of a
mine of pure silver!
‘That’s not half; it’s all about here said
his companion, moving in another direc
tion, and commenced digging again. The
silver smith followed with a quick step,
! and the woodsman, after swinging his
! pick for a short time, brought forth an
other lump—and still another! and took
the old man around the field, and dug up
the same stuff in every direction. This
i was enough to base satisfied Old Nick
himself and the old man at length said:
I ‘Young man, this stuff might be made
of some value, by a person who under
stands smelting it, but it is of no value to
you, and I would advise you to sell it.’
‘Yes, but it’s so poor ground that no
body’ll buy it.’
‘What did you originally give for it?’
said the old man.’
‘Forty dollars.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do—l’ll
give you one hundred dollars in silver.
‘Well, now, that’s fair, I think ; and I’ll
just go and ask the old woman.’
He went into his cabin and returned in
a minute saying:
‘Stranger, I guess I wont sell out, for
there’s no more ground about here for
sale, and the old woman says she wont
move away from her people.’
The silver smith was fired with the
prospect he had of clasping the rich treas
ure, and went on offering the country
man more and more until he reached a
thousand dollars. This appeared to work
the fellow, and he walked in his cabin
again, and shortly returned.
‘Can’t stand it, stranger : the old wo
man wont say yes, and there’s no use in
trying to make her.’
This only made the avaricious silver
smith mors furious, and after expostulat
ing for some time with the countryman,
he said:
‘Cio and tell your wife that I will give
her two thousand dollars for this tract!’
He went again, and soon returned with
a smile on his phiz, which plainly told the
old man’s success.
‘Well stranger, I’ll tell you what; the
old woman says that if you will give her
three thousand wheelers down, and let us
live here until we can move, she’ll take
it.’
‘Agreed!,said the voracious silver smith,
and a contract was at once made, a bill of
sale was drawn up by the squire—and a
check on Nick Biddle given for the
amount, which the countryman soon sold
for the ready, and they parted—the silver
smith to the city, and the clod hopper to
his cabin.
Two days after the silver smith return
ed with a host of miners, and commenced
operations on a grand scale, but after dig
ging for some hours without finding more
lumps, a feeling of apprehension began to
take hold of them; and the silver smith
grew pale, and trembling with fear and
suspense he walked straight to the wood
man’s cabin and inquiring for the coun
tryman, found him seated quite contented
ly by a large fire smoking his pipe.
‘Good morning sir—l have come sir;
l licit tj liail uiy men ul wuik time five
hours, sir—and have found none of that
ore you showed me!’
‘Well, now, do tell,’ said the country
man, there must be two lumps about—for
1 know I planted seven in all, and we on
ly dug up five!’
The remainder may be better conceiv
ed than described.
From one who writes well and wisely,
J and with so much ease as the Editor of
\ the Alexandria Gazette, the following
j observations, in themselves just, come
i with peculiar force:
Editorial Writings. —A few days ago
the National Intelligencer had some sen
sible remarks on the subject of editing a
paper. One idea expressed has frequent
ly struck us with great force. Many
people estimate the ability of a newspaper,
and the industry and talents of its editor,
by the variety and quantity of editorial
matter which it contains. Nothing can
be more fallacious.—lt is comparatively
an easy task for a frothy writer to pour
out, daily, columns of words — words, up
on any and all subjects. His ideas may
flow in “one weak, washy, everlasting
flood,” and his command of language
may enable him to string them together
like bunches of onions; and yet his paper
may be a meager and poor concern. But
what is the labor, the toil of such a man,
who displays his “leaded matter” ever so
largely, to that imposed upon the judi
cious well-informed editor, who exercises
his vocation with an hourly consciousness
of its responsiblities and its duties, devotes
himself to the conduct of his paper with the
same care and assiduity that a sensible
lawyer bestows upon a suit, or a humane
physician upon a patient—without regard
to show or display! Indeed, the mere
writing port, of editing a paper, is but
a small portion of the work. The indus
try is not even shown there. The care,
the taste, the time, employed in selecting is
far more important—and the tact of a
good editor is better shown by his selec
tions than any thing else; and that, we
all know, is half the battle. But, as we
have said, an editor ought to be estimated,
and his labors understood and appreciat
ed, by the general conduct of his paper—
its tone—its temper —its manner—its uni
form, consistent course—its principles —
its aims—its manliness—its courtesy —its
dignity—its propriety. To preserve all
these, as they should be preserved, is
enough to occupy fully the time and atten
tion of any man. If to this be added the
general supervision of the newspaper es
tablishment, which most editors ha*e to
encounter, the wonder is, how they can
find time, or “head-room,” to write at
all!
Death of Sionor Lorenzo Df.pontb.
This venerable Italian poet, who has long
resided in New-York, departed this life on
Friday evening, at his residence 91 Spring
street, at the. advanced age of 90.
[terms fa nr adtawo*.
Mad DoQ.—WeU n — YrftWtf
morning a mad dog was seen mnnMM
through the Bowery, he was pursued f Z
a rabble of boys, armed with dphs sad
stones, when just above Grand street, the
rabid animal turned into an alley leading
to the stable of Mr. Saye or Say. One .
of the hostlers were at the time in the sta
ble yard, engaged in rubbing downs
horse. He was at the moment robbing
the fore legs of the horse, and did not
discover the dog till he was clow npon
him, and doubtless ready for a grip. The*
man sprang forward a few feet, and the
horse not liking the appearance of the
new customer, dealt bins a blow with hie
hind foot, which laid him sprawling, And
completely stunned, if not qjniti dead.
The matter was however decid ed without
further danger, as he waa then —tup—
with clubs by the mob who bad raadHHl
the scene of action. It is doubttafelfeu
timely interference of the hone that wed
the life of the man. We did not loam
that any persons were bitten by the dog.
[Now York paper.
Rapid Travelling. A gentleman
who left Trieste on the 15th of Juno, pas
sed through Italy, Switzerland, France
and England, and spending one day at
Venice, three at Milan, one at Lauaanne,
two at Paris, one at Boulogne, three at
London, and one at Liverpool, arrived at
New York in the steamship Royal Will
iam, on the 24th July —haring been only
twenty-seven days of actual travel on the
route. , .
Longevity. —lt is a remarkable circum
stance that the Russian empire exhibits
more instances of longevity then any
other country in the world. - A recent re
turn gives the number of those who died
above one hundred years as 3,173 in the
course of four years, above one hundred
and five years, 1,064; above one hundred*
and ten years, 558; above one hundred and
fifteen years, 326; above one hundred
and twenty years, 211; above one hundred
and twenty-five years, >80; above one hun
dred and forty years, 10; and above one
hundred and fifty years, I—making a
grand tola) in four years of persons aged
one hundred and upwards of 5,470.
—— * A
Commodore Rodgers was, up to bis
death, the head of the American Navy—
the oldest commander in the service—but.
for the last fifteen months has been a resi
dent of the Naval Asylum in Philadelphia,
and the greater part of that tinUHlt close
confinement, a confirmed lunitfe. He
was made as comfortable as his unhappy
situation would permit. His was not a
continued madness, but a kind|of child
ishness, with a strong passion for destruc
tion upon slight or
He had gradually grown weaker and weak
er for several months past, and died yes
terday morning about two o’clock, without
any particular disease, but from excessive
weakness.
Singular Effects of Politeness up
on the Wf.ather. — The Brighton Ga
zette says: “Such was the effect of the ur
banity of the Commodore at the late sail
ing match, that although a most chilly,
rainy, and uncongenial day, it vu made
delightful by this gentleman’s extreme po
liteness.”
The Army and Navy Chronicle, speek
ing of the late appointment DEL
afield to the superintendence of the
Military Academy, says that Col. Turn,
who, it was generally understood, was to
resume the command of that important
post, for some reason not known, declin
ed that duty. “There is no fear, however,”
says the Chronicle, ‘‘that it will degener
ate under the new superintendent, who is
himself a graduate of the Academy."
The Abtor Library.— The Com
mercial Advertiser knock* aH the dona
tion story of $350,000 ifllo j», with a
positive contradiction of the tpbde of ft.
Mr. Astor, it says, has occasionally inti
mated his intention |o leave a /«,&(
the creation of «library; but this
there ia no foundation- for 4|M'Ji|||pks
that have been circulated whfpMKch
show of confidence. *
'' ~ ~ "
Steam Boat Herald BeArr.—The
Cincinnati Gazette of theßtbiast says—
“ The Cincinnati and Warsaw packet,
Herald, on her downward passage, took
’fiie at half past two' o’clock, yesterday,
eight miles below the city end burnt to -
the waters edge. She w** ran okon at
South Bend, and pasaengevs and ere#,
numbering sixty, essayed without serious
Sun. «
■
A gentleman who was rats—r ibyitient
at table, declared he widll|^« ; coeld
manage without Serf art wore
“greater plague than profit.’*
“Why not have a dumb waiter,” sug
gested a friend. “Oh no,” returned the
other; “I have tried them — they don’t
answer."