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CURIOUS PROPOSITION OF A DEBTOR TO HIS CREDITOR
(From a London Paper)
A debtor in the Fleet prison, lately sent to his creditor, to let him know that he had a proposal to make which he believed would be for their mutual benefit; accordingly the creditor called on him to hear it.
"I have," said he, "been thinking that it is a very idle thing for me to be here and put you to the expence of seven groats a week; my being so chargeable to you has given me great uneasiness; and G.o.d knows what it may cost you in the end; therefore what I would propose is this, you shall set me out of prison, and instead of seven groats, you shall only allow me eighteen pence a week and the other ten pence shall go towards the discharge of the debt."
_NEW-YORK._
MARRIED,
On Thursday evening last, by the Rev. Dr. Pilmore, DAVID HUNT, Esq. of West-Chester, to the Widow COOPER of Fish-Kills.
_METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From June 26th to July 2d._
_Days of the Month._ _Thermometor observed at 8, A.M. 1, P.M. 6, P.M._ _Prevailing winds._ _OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER._
deg. deg. deg. 8. 1. 6. 8. 1. 6.
100 100 100 JUNE 26 79 84 82 SW. W. do. clear light wind.
27 75 80 75 N. NW. SW. clear do. do.
28 78 75 80 79 SW. do. do. clear do. cloudy.
29 81 50 83 79 W. NW. do. rain thund. and lightn.
30 70 79 77 N. do. do. clear do. do.
JULY 1 69 50 81 50 79 NW. W. do. clear. do. do.
2 72 82 72 NW. W. SW. clear do. do.
RESULTS OF METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.
_For June 1796._ deg. 100
Mean temperature of the thermometer at 8 A.M. 71 37 Do. do. of the do. at 1 P.M. 73 97 Do. do. of the do. at 6 P.M. 68 74 Do. do. of the whole month 71 6 Greatest monthly range between the 12th and 26th 25 25 Do. do. in 24 hours the 3d 9 50 Warmest day the 26 84 Coldest do. the 12 59 50
10 Days it rained. A large quant.i.ty has fallen this month.
15 do. it was clear at 8 1 and 6 o'clock.
6 do. it was cloudy at do. do.
23 do. the wind was light at do.
16 do. the wind was to the westward of north and south.
3 times it thundered and lightned in this month.
+For the New-York Weekly Magazine.+
OF THE BEAUTIFUL AND VIRTUOUS.
In days of old, historians write, There liv'd a maid of wond'rous charms, Whose very name would oft invite And pre-engage the heart that warms.
The G.o.ds of yore did try each suit To win this all-alluring fair; But neither men nor G.o.ds could do't, She listen'd callous to their pray'r.
In modern days we too are blest With Nature's best, completest art, Her breast is with the virtues drest, And dignity exalts her heart.
If G.o.ds cou'd once more live again, And eye the Clara of our day, Their very souls would burst with pain, And sigh alas! for death's decay.
Ye virtuous youth who search for worth, And look with hate on idle mirth, Direct your steps where Clara lives, And you may get what virtue gives.
LUCIUS.
PINE-STREET, June 28th, 1796.
[[For sources, see the end of the second installment.]]
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
AN EPISTLE FROM OCTAVIA TO ANTONY.
+From the French.+
_BY MATILDA._
While Anthony without the chance of arms, Contemn'd by all, and lost to glory's charms, A woman's signal leads across the wave, To share the just derision of the brave: I shudder at thy weakness and thy shame, The price a worthless mistress pays thy flame; Now Rome disowns thee--blushes to have borne The power of him who fills the world with scorn; O hero still belov'd, ere quite undone, Recal the palms thy youthful valour won; Recal those times, those actions, that applause, That join'd the senate people in thy cause, When Rome in Caesar's friend beheld him live, And emulation all his worth revive.
Then judge, unhappy, of thy heart's estate, Thyself avenging Brutus' hapless fate; Betray'd by female arts to boast a flame, That leads to thy misfortune and thy shame; 'Tis she that stifles all the warrior's glow, And tears the fading laurel from thy brow.
O husband mid thy weakness, still too dear Are such the actions of a love sincere; Grant but these lines with true affection fraught, The calm indulgence of unbia.s.s'd thought; Does not remorse, even in some tender hour, O'er thy fond soul extend her chilling power; How oft do Rome and sad Octavia rise, And glance reproaches to thy mental eyes; Ah if 'tis so, and thy repentant soul Has felt the salutary griefs controul, Permit, at length permit this trembling hand, To mention honour's claim and love's demand; And if some crime thy just aversion draws, Tell, only cruel, tell the hapless cause.
My brother all prepar'd, a.s.sum'd his arms, When war between you kindled fierce alarms; To reunite two heroes then became Of me, the glorious and successful aim; Your jarring int'rests in one point to blend, And change each stern opponent to a friend; Our marriage made--I hop'd to ratifie Your union, and confirm the mutual tie.
Th' Egyptian queen, her love, your weakness prov'd, No apprehensions in my bosom mov'd.
Ev'n Cleopatra secretly defy'd, I hop'd to humble guilty beauty's pride, And wish'd in loving thee, th'exalted fate, To punish her, and greatly serve the state.
Rome sought, applauding, from my eyes to raise, The pleasing prospect of serener days; These glorious aims inflam'd my ardent breast, And tender prepossession did the rest.
That happy day on which thy faith was giv'n, Bestow'd dear Anthony, the joys of heaven!
What pomp, great G.o.ds! and with what transport join'd To sway the lords of Rome, and of mankind; I dissipated rage and banish'd art, And rul'd a brother's and a husband's heart.
Extinguish'd in her breast discordant hate, And reign'd the sovereign of the Roman state.
A pardonable pride I dare confess, That generous pride that only knows to bless; The love of Cleopatra, her alarms, Augmented both my triumphs and my charms.
