Brunswick advocate. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1837-1839, January 03, 1839, Image 1

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BrwiiotoicHt 3'imocatir, BY CHARLES DAVIS.] VOIVMB 2. BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE. TERMS. Three Dollars in advance— *4 at the end of the year. |Q*No subscriptions received for a less terra than six months and no paper discontinu ed until all arrearages are paid except at the option of the publisher. A CONTRAST. ALL nations, from the remotest ages, have had ships, but Columbus only round out the way to America. Before the time of the great Spanish navigator, people were only en abled to paddle about the shores. Just so with the Life Medicines. It is but two short years since I first ventured upon an unknown ocean, and I have discovered the precious object I was in search of—HEALTH. Vegetable medi cines were indeed known when I commenced my search, but their use was not. By the use of them, I have not only passed from the de jected invalid, to the hale, hearty and active man of business, but, comparatively speaking, I have renewed my youth. I can thus, with confidence in my own experience, advise with my fellow citizens. Does the reader want proof that the VEGETABLE MEDICINES are suitable to his own case ? I have on file at my office, 367 Broadway, hundreds of letters, from some of the most respectable citizens of this my native land, voluntarily offered in tes timony of the virtues of A GOOD VEGETA BLE MEDICINE. Persons whose constitutions have been near ly ruined by the “all-infallible" mineral pri parations of the day, will bear me witness, that the Life Medicines, and such only, are the true course to permanent good health. JOHN MOFFAT. (itneral remarks relative to Moffat's Life Pills • and Phoenix. Bitters. These medicines have long been known and appreciated, for their extraordinary and imme diate powers of restoring perfect health, to per sons suffering under nearly every kind of dis ease to which the human frame is liable. In many hundreds of certificated instances, they have even rescued sufferers from the very verge of an untimely grave, after all the de ceptive nostrums of the day had utterly failed ; and to many thousands they have permanent ly secured that uniform enjoyment of health, without which life itself is but a partial bless ing. So great, indeed, has their efficacy inva riably and infallibly proved, that it has appear ed scarcely less than miraculous to those who were unacquainted with the beautifully philo sophical principles upon which they are com pounded, and upon which they consequently act. It was to their manifest and sensible ac tion in purifying the springs and channels of life and enduing them with renewed tone and vigor, that they were indebted for their name, which was bestowed upon them at the sponta neous request of several individuals whose lives they had obviously saved. The proprietor rejoices in the opportunity afforded by the universal diffusion of the daily press, for placing his VEGETABLE LIFE PILLS within the knowledge and reach of ev ery individual in the community. Unlike the host of pernicious quackeries, which boast of vegetable ingredients, the Life Pills are purely and solely vegetable, and contain neither Mercury, Antimony, Arsenic, nor any other mineral, in any form whatever. They are en tirely composed of extracts from rare and pow erful plants, the virtues of which, though long known to several Indian tribes, and recently to some eminent pharmact utical chemists, are altogether unknown to the ignorant pretenders to medical science ; and were never before ad ministered in so happily efficacious a combina tion. Their first operation is to loosen from the coats of the stomach and bowels, the various impurities and crudities constantly settling a round them ; and to remove the hardened fae ces which collect in the convolutions of the small intestines. Other medicines only par tially cleanse these, and leave such collected masses behind, as to produce habitual costive ness, with all its train of evils, or sudden diar rhoea, with its imminent dangers. This fact is well known to all regular anatomists, who ex aminine the human bowels after death : and hence the prejudice of these well informed men against the quack medicines of the age. The second effect of the VEGETABLE LI FE PILLS is to cleanse the kidneys and the blad der, and by this means, the liver and the lungs, the healthful action of which entirely depends' upon the regularity of the urinary organs— The blood, which takes its red color from the agency of the liver and the lungs before it passes into the heart, being thus purified by them, and nourished by food coming from a clean stomach, courses freely through the veins, renews every part of the system, and triumphantly mounts the banner of health in the blooming cheek. The following are among the distressing va of human diseases ? to which the Vegeta ble Life Pills are weif known to be infallible : DYSPEPSIA, by thoroughly cleansing the first and second stomachs, creating a flow of pure healthy bile, instead of the stale and a crid kind:— Flatulency, Palpitation of the Heart, Loss of Appetite, Heart-burn and head-ache, Restlessness, 111-temper, Anxiety, Languor, and Mclancholly, which are the general symp toms of Dyspepsia, will vanish, as a natural consequence of its cure. Costiveness, by cleansing the whole length of the intestines with a solvent process, and without violence; all violent purges leave the bowels costive within two days. Diarrhaa and Cholera by removing the sharp acrid fluids by which these complaints are occasioned, and by pro moting the lubricative secretion of the mucus mambrane. Fevers if all kinds, by restoring the blood to a regular circulation, through the process of perspiration in some cases, and the thorough solution of all intestinal obstructions in others. The LIFE PILLS have been known to cure Rheumatism permanently in three weeks, and Gout in half the time, by re moving local inflammation from the muscles and ligaments of the joints. Dropsies of all kinds, by freeing and strengthening the kid neys and bladder; they operate most delight fully on these important organs, and hence have ever been found a certain remedy for tlnf worst cases of Gravel. Also, IVorms, by dislodging from of the bowels the slimy matter to wtjh these creatures adhere; Asthma and Consumption, by relieving the air vessels of the lungs from the mucu*, which PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, IN THE CITY OF BRUNSWICK, GLYNN COUNTY, GEORGIA. BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, JANUARY 3,1839. even slight colds will occasion, which if not removed becomes hardened, and poduces those dreadful diseases. Scurvy, Ulcers, and Inveterate Sores, by the perfect purity which these Life Pills give to the blood, and all the humors; Scorbutic Eruptions, and Bad Com plexions by their alterative effect upon the fluids that feed the skin, the morbid state of which occasions all Eruptive complaints, Sal low, Cloudy and other disagreeable Complex ions. The use of these Pills for a very short time, will effect an entire cure of Salt rheum , Erysipelas, and a striking improvement in the Clearness of the skin. Common Colds and Influenza, will always be cured by one dose, or, by two, even in the worst cases. Piles, —as a remedy for this most distressing and obstinate malady, the Vegetable Life Pills de serve a distinct and emphatic recommenda- tion. It is well known to hundreds in this city, that the Proprietor of the invaluable Pills was himself afflicted with this complaint for upwards of thirty-five years, and that he tried in vain every remedy prescribed within the whole compass of the Materia Medica. He however, at length, tried the medicine which he now offers to the public, and he was cured j in a very shoit time, after his recovery had been pronounced not only improbable, but ab solutely impossible, by any human means. DIRECTIONS FOR USE—The Proprie tor of the Vegetable Life Pills does not follow the base and mercenary practice of the j quacks of the day, in advising persons to take ; his Pills in large quantities. No good medi cine can possibly be so required. These Pills are to be taken at bed time every night, for a week or fortnight, according to the obstinacy of the disease. The usual dose is from 2to 5, according to the constitution of the person. Very delicate persons should begin with but ' two, and increase as the nature of the case may require: those more robust, or of very cos tive habit, may begin with 3, and increase to 4, or even 5 Pills, and they will effect a suf ficiently happy change to guide the patient in their further use. These Pills sometimes oc casion sickness and vomiting, though very seldom, unless the stomach is very foul; this, however, may be considered a favorable symp tom, as the patient will find himself at once relieved, and by perseverance will soon re cover. They usually operate within 10 or 12 hours, and never give pain, unless the bow els are very much encumbered. They may be taken by the most delicate females under any circumstances.—lt is, however, recom mended, that those in later periods of pregnan cy should take but one at a time, and thus con tinue to keep the bowels open: and even two may be taken where the patient is very cos tive. One pill in a solution of two table spoons full of water, may be given to an in fant in the following doges—a tea spoon full every two hours till it operates; for a child from one to five of age, half a pill—and from five to ten one pill. THE PIICENIX BITfERS, are so called, because they possess the power of restoring the expiring embers of health, to a glowing vigor throughout the constitution, as the Pliccnix is said to be restored to life from the ashes of its own dissolution. The Phoenix Bitters are entirely vegetable, composed of roots found only in certain parts of the west ern country, which will infallibly cure FE VERS AND AGUES of all kinds; will never fail to eradicate entirely all the effects of Mer cury, infinitely sooner than the most powerful preparations of Sarsaparilla, and will immedi ately cure the determination of BLOOD TO THE HEAD; never fail in the sickness inci dent to young females; and will be found a certain remedy in all cases of nervous debility and weakness of the most impaired constitu tions. Asa remedy for Chronic and Inflam-, matory Rheumatism, the efficacy of the Phoenix Bitters will be demonstrated by tbs use of a single bottle. The usual dose of these bitters is half a wine glass full, in water or wine, and this quantity may be taken two or three times a day, about half an hour before meals, or a less quantity may be taken at all times. To those who are afflicted with indigestion after meals, these Bitters will prove invaluable, as they very greatly increase the action of the principal viscera, help them to perform their functions, and enable the stomach to discharge into the bowels whatever is offensive. This indigestion is easily and speedily removed, appetite restored, and the mouths of the ab sorbent vessels being cleansed, nutrition is facilitated, and strength of body and energy of mind are the happy results. For farther particulars of MOFFAT'S LIFE PILLS, and PHCENIX BITTERS, apply at Mr. Moffat’s office, No. 367 Broadway. New York,where the Pills can be obtained for 25 cents, 50 cents, or $1 per box; and the Bitters for $1 or $2 per bottle. o“Numcrous certificates of the won derful efficacy of both, may be there inspect ed. In some obstinate and complicated cases of chronic and inflammatory Rheumatism, Liver Complaints, Fever and Ague, Dyspepsia Palsy, Piles, injuries from the use of mercury,quinine, and other diseases of long standing, it may be found necessary to take both the Life Pills and the Phoenix Bitters, in the doses before recommended. N. B.—These Pills and the Bitters will get all mercury out of the system infinitely faster than the best preparations of Sarsaparilla, afid arc a regain remedy for the rushing of blond to the HWm, or all violent headaches, tic dou lcureux,&.c. —All persons who are predisposed to apoplexy, palsy, &c, should newt be with out the Life Pills or the Bitters, for one dose in time will save life. They equalize the cir culation of the blood, draw all pressure from the head, restore prespiration, and throw oft e*pry impurity by the pores of the skin. IMPORTANT NOTICE. Persons using the Life Medicines, are ad vised to take the Pills at night, in sufficient qantities to operate two or three times on the bowels in the course of the next day. Also take a table spoonful of the Bitters half an hour before each meal. For those of a delicate or enfeebled constitution, half the quantity may be sufficient. CpFor further particulars of the above Med icine see Moffat s Goon Samaritait, a copy of which accompanies the Medicine. A copy may also be had on application at the store of DART, BARRETT & CO., Brunswick, Ga., who have the Medicine for sale. * # * Prepared and sold by William B. Mof fat, No. 367, Broadway, New-York. A liber al deduction made to those who purchase to sell again. T)ct 25. Iv. POETR V. CALEDONIA. BY JAMES HOGG. Caledania! thou land of the mountain and rock, Os the Ocean, the mist and the wind, Thou land of the torrent, the pine and the oak, Os the roebuck, the hart, and the hind; Tho’ bare are thy cliffs, and tho' barren thy glens, Tho’ bleak tky dun Islands appear, Yet kind are the hearts and undaunted thy clans, That roam on these mountains so drear. Thou land of the bay, and the lieadly so steep; Os the eagle that hovers on high, O’er the still lake, where etch’d on its bosom asleep, Lie the mountain, the cloud and the sky. Thou land of the valley, the moor, and the dale, Os the storm and the proud rolling wave; Yes, thou art the land of fair liberty still And the land of my forefather’s grave. A foe from abroad, or a tyrant at home, Could never thy ardour restrain; The invincible bands of imperial Rome ; Assay'd thy proud spirit in vain. Firm seat of religion, of valor, of truth, Os genious unshackled and free; The muses have left all the vales of the south, My loved Caledonia for thee. » IISCELLAIVY. [Translated for the Brunswick Advocate.] THE CHEVALIER GLUCK ; A RECOLLECTION OF THE YEAR # 1809. (From the German of Hoffmann.) In the latter part of Autumn, in Ber lin, there arc usually a few fine days. ■ The sun shows his friendly face from among the clouds, and soon dispels the dampness of the warm air which blows through the streets. Then may you see a long line of people, a most rnotly as semblage,—exquisites, citizens with their wives and the dear little ones in their Sunday clothes, priests, Jewesses, profes sors, milliners, dancers, officers, &.C., walking on through the limetrees, to the park. Every seat, within hearing of Claus and Weber, is soon filled; the carrot coffee steams, the exquisites light their cigars, people talk, and dispute about war and peace, about Madam Bethmann’s shoes, (whether her latest pair was grey or green,) about bad groschen, &c.; till every other sound is drowned in that of an air from Fanchon, in winch a harp out of tune, a pair of discordant vio lins, an asthmatic flute, and a fitful bas soon, torment themselves and all who listen. Close by the bannister, which separates Weber’s enclosure from the highway, there stands several little round tables and garden-chairs ; here you can breathe the free air, in spite of the com ers and goers, and be at a safe distance from the cacophonous clatter of that exe crable orchestra; there I sit down, yield ing myself up to the light play of my fan cy, which brings before me intimate forms, with which I converse about sci ence, about art, about every thing that man holds dearest, a more and more rnotly crowd of* walkers passes on before me, but nothing disturbs me; nothing can drive away my fantastic society. On |ly the cursed trio of a most miserable jig ! tears me from the world of dreams. The j shrieking treble of the violins and flute, and the bassoon’s snarling bass., alone | meet my ear; they go up and down, al most keeping together, in octaves, which torture the ear; and involuntarily, as I one would do if seized with a burnin'* I 0 pain, I exclaim : “What crazy music! those detestable octaves!”' A voice near me murmurs ; “Oh cursed fate ! yet again an octave hunter !” I look up, and for the first time per-' ceive, that, unremarked by me, a man had seated himself at the same tabic, who kept his eyes fixed upon me, and of whose image my eyes have not since been able to free themselves. I never saw a head, or a form, which in so short a time made so powerful an im pression upon me. A gently curved nose joined a broad, open brow, with remarka ble elevations over the bushy, gray eye l brows, under which the eyes blazed forth with an almost wild, and youthful fire, [(though the man\nftist have been more than fifty years old.) His delicately formed chin was singularly contrasted with the closed mouth; and a sneering smile, produced by the remarkable play of the muscles in his sunken cheeks, seemed totally repugnant to the deep, melancholy gravity, which rested on his forehead. A few gray locks lay behind his large, projecting ears. Avery large fashionable surtout covered his tall, spare form. As my eyes fell upon the man, he looked down, and continued the employment which had been interrupted by my excla mation. He emptied the snuff with evident complacency, from several small papers, into a large box which stood before him, and moistened it with red wine which he poured front a bottle. The music hhd ceased; I felt the necessity of addressing him. “ I am glad that the music is silent,” I said; “ it was intolerable.” The old man threw a hasty glance upon me and emptied the last paper. “It would be better that they should not play at all,” I continued ; “ are you not of niy opinion ?” “lam of no opinion,” he said; “you are a musician and a connoiseur by pro fession.” “ You are mistaken ; I am neither. I! learned, a long time ago, to play upon the [ harpsichord, and acquired a knowledge of: thorough bass, as something essential to a j complete education, and I was told, among other things, that nothing produced a J more disagreeable effect, than when the I bass accompanied the treble in octaves. I then took the assertion on the authority i of others, and I have since found it con-i stantly verified. u “ Indeed ?” interrupted he, rising, and j walking slowly and thoughtfully towards! the musicians, while frequently, his eyes turned upward, Ire struck his forehead with the palm of his hand, as one wlio wishes to recall something to his remem brance. I saw him speak with the musi cians, whom he treated with a command ing dignity. He returned back, and hard ly was he seated, when they began to play the overture to Iphigenia in Aulis. With eyes half closed, his arms crossed and resting on the table, he listened to the Antiante; gently moving the left foot, he marked the commencement of the voices; now he raised his head, threw a | rapid glance around—his left hand, with ! the fingers spread, rested on the table, asj if he were playing an accord on the piano;} his right hand he raised up; beseemed an j j opera director signifying to the orchestra the commencement of the other tempo— the right hand falls and the allegro be gins! A burning redness spread over the pale cheeks; the eyebrows contracted on the wrinkled forehead, an inward fury inflamed the wild glance with a fire, which destroyed more and more the smile, still | hovering over the half opened mouth. Now he leans back; the eyebrows are j raised, the play of the muscles on the cheeksjreturns; the eyes sparkle ; a deep, internal pain seems dissolved in the de light which seizes on and convulsively moves every fibre; —he draws his breath deeply from the breast; round drops j stand on his forehead; he makes a sign [ for the commencement o,f the Tutti ; and other principal divisions; his right hand continues to mark the time, while with the left he takes out his handkerchief and passes it over his face.—Thus he enliven |ed with flesh and color, the skeleton of j the overture, which was given by that pair of violins. I heard the soft, melting, j plaintive strain with which the flute pro j ceeds, when the storm of the violins and i of the base instruments has spent its rage, j and the thunder of the kettledrums is | silent, I heard gently striking in the tones of the violiricello, and of the bassoon, which fill the heart with an inexpressible I sadness ; the tutti returns again ; like a J giant, tall and stately, the unison marches j on; the mournful wail dies under its crushing tread. The overture was at an end; the man let fall both his arms, and sat there with closed eyes, like one who has been de bilitated by violent exertion. His bottle , was empty. I tilled his glass with Burgun- dy, which I had ordered in the mean time. He sighed deeply, and appeared to be awaking out of a dream. I urged him to drink ; lie did it without ceremony, and as he emptied the full glass at a single draught, he exclaimed; “I am content with their performance; the orchestra has done well!” l “ And yet,” I replied, “ yet they gave us only weak outlines of a masterpiece designed with living colors.” “Do I judge correctly ?—You do not belong to Berlin!” “You are right; I reside here only occasionally.” “ The Burgundy is good ; but it is growing cold.” “ Then let us go to, the saloon, and there finish the bottle.” “An excellent proposition.—l do not know you; therefore you are also unac quainted with me. We will not ask each other’s names; names are sometimes incon venient. I drink Burgundy ; it costs me nothing; we are on good terms with one another—and so far, good.” He said all this with good tempered cordiality—we had gone into the saloon— he threw open his surtout, and as he seated himself, I was surprised to see that he .'Wore under it, an embroidered waist coat of a large figure, and a very small silvcr-hilted sword. He then carefully buttoned up his coat again. “ Why did you ask me, whether I were a Berliner?” I began. “ Because in that case I should have been under the necessity of leaving you.” “ That sounds enigmatically.” t “ Not in the least, when I tell you, that I well, that I am a composer.” “Still I cannot guess your meaning.” “Then excuse the exclamation which I made a little while ago; for I see, that you are utterly unable to comprehend Berlin and Berlin people.” He rose and walked rapidly a few times up and down ; then walked to the win dow and sang, in a hardly audible voice, the chorus of the priestesses in the Iphi genia in Tauris; while now and then, at the commencement of the Tutti, he knocked on the window pane. I remark ed with astonishment, that he executed certain variations of the airs, which were striking from their newness and power, lie had ceased, and returned again to his seat. Wholly taken up with the man’s singular behaviour, and the fantastic ec centricities of a remarkable musical tal ent, I was silent. After awhile he began: “ Have you never composed ?” “Yes; I have made some attempts in the art; but I found that every thing, which, as I thought, I had written in mo ments of inspiration, afterwards seemed flat and stupid—and I discontinued it.” “You have done wrong; for the very fact, that you threw away some attempts, is no mean proof of your talent. One learns music when a boy, because papa and mamma will have it so; and then there’s a great jingling and fiddling ; but the mind becomes insensibly more sus ceptible to melody. Perhaps the half forgotten Thema of a song, which one was at some time used to sing, was the first peculiar thought; and this embryo, laboriously nourished by foreign powers, increased to a which consumed every thing about it, and converted it in to its own marrow and blood! Ah, how is it possible even to point at the thousand different means by which one arrives at the power of composing? It is a broad highway, where every body tumbles about and shouts and cries, ‘We are consecrat ed; we are at the goal!’ We arrive at the kingdom of dreams through the ivory gate; few see the gate, still fewer pass through! Here all appears strange. — Mad forms hover this way and that, but they have character, one more than anoth er. They do not suffer themselves to be seen on the highway; they are only to be found behind the ivory gate. It is diffi cult to come out of this kingdom; as be fore the castle of the magiciau, monsters stop the way;— there is a whirling—a turn ing—many dream out the dream in the realm of dreams; —they dissolve in the dream—they no longer cast any shadow, else the shadow would make them aware .*>■’ [TERMS.....** IN ADVANCE. [of the light, which passes through (Iris realm; but only a few, awaken^. from the dream, go on and walk tWoegh the realm of dreams—they come to the truth; that is the most exalted moment; that con tact with the eternal, inexpressible ! Look at the sun; it is the chord from which the harmonies} like stars, shoot down and spin around you with threads of fire. You lie these torpid in the fire, till the spirit soars upward to the sun.” At these words he sprung up, and rais ed, upwards his eyes and his hand. Then he seated himself, and drank off the glass which stood filled for him. A silence ensued, which I refrained from breaking, in order not to force the extraordinary man from his train of thought. At last he continued, with more composure: “While I was in thekingdotnof dreams, I was tortured with a thousand pains and agonies. It was night, and I was terrified at the grinning faces of monsters, which rushed upon me, and now plunged me into the abyss of the sea, now raised me higli into the air. Then beams of light shok through the darkness, and these beams of light became musical strains, which en compassed me with enrapturing sweetness. I awaked from my suffering, and beheld a large, bright eye, which looked upon an organ, and as it looked, strains issued forth, and beamed, and combined in new accords, such as Iliad never imagined.— Melodies streamed up and down, and I swam iu this stream, and was about to sink, and then the tye looked on tne, and held me up above the dashing waves.— Again it became night; then two colos susses in resplendent armour came upon me, Tonic and Dominant; they tore me away, but the eye smiled, as it would say T know what fills thy bosom with regret; the soft, gentle youth, Terzo, will join the Colossusses, thou will hear his soft voice, sec me again, and my melodies again be thine.’ ” He ceased. “And you saw the eye again?” “Yes, I saw it again! Whole years long I sighed in the kingdom of dreams; there, yes there, I sat in a glorious valley, and listened to the flowers as they sang to each other. A sunflower alone was silent, and sorrowfully bent its closed cnlixto the earth. Invisible bands drew me to it;— it raised its head; —its calix opened, and from it the rye beamed towards me. Now strains of melody passed, like beams of light, from my head to the flower, which eagerly drew them in. l]he leaves of the sunflower grew larger and latter; flames streamed forth from them; they enclosed ine; the eye had disappeared, and I was in the calix.’’ As he spoke these last words he sprang up, and hastened with rapid and youthful steps to the apartment without. I waited in vain for his return; I therefore resolved to return to the city. I had nearly reached the Brandenburg gate, when I saw in the dusk, a tall figure walk away, and,immediately recognized my Incomprehensible. I addressed him: “Why did you leave me in such haste?” “It was growing too warm, and the jEu plwn began to sound.” “I do not understaad yon.” “So much the better.” “So much the worse, for I should bo ' very giau to understand you.** “Do you then hear nothingP' “No.” t r- : “It is over! Let us go. lam not gen erally fond of company; but ——-yfou do not compose; —you are no BerKest.” “I cannot imagine wbj you lwve this prejudice against the Berliners? Here, where the art is valued, and practised to a great extent/ I should suppose, that a man possessed, like you, W the spirit of an artist, must be happy* 11 “You are mistaken! For my torment I ana condemned, like a deported spirit, to Wander Here in desolate pjvtce.” “In desolate space, here, in “Yes, all is desolate about me, fer no congenial spirit advances to meet me.— I stand alone.” “But the artists! the composers!” ‘ Away with them! They scrawl and scrawl, —refine away every thing to the extremity of refinement; rummage through