REGISTER OF PENNSYLVANIA. DEVOTED TO THE PRESERVATION OF EVERY KIND OF USEFUL INFORMATION RESPECTING THE STATE. VOL. IX.-NO. 6. EDITED BY SAMUEL HAZARD. PHILADELPHIA, FEBRUARY 11, 1832. NO. 215. From the Hartford Times. A manuscript copy of the following letter was placed in our hands by a friend, who found it among the miscellaneous contents of a sack of paper rags, collected by a pedlar in the southern states. The style of its penmanship is antique, but elegant. The letter itself is distinguished by uncommon eloquence and powers of persuasion. It appears to have been written by the Rev. JACOB DUCHE, a minister of the Episcopal church, and for a hort time chaplain to the first Continental Congress, and it is addressed to "His Excellency, Gen. WASHINGTON."It is probable this letter has been pubEished before, but we have no recollection of it; and, thinking it cannot fail to interest our readers, and in press them, as it has us, with a still more exalted vene ration for a man who rose superior to the discourage ments of circumstances, and the reduction of false friends, we lay it before them. great reason to apprehend. A very few days after the fatal declaration of Independency, I received a letter from Mr. Hancock, sent by express to Germantown, where my family were for the summer season, acquainting me that I was appointed Chaplain to the Congress, and desired to attend at nine o'clock the next morning. Surprised and distressed by an event I was not prepared to expect, obliged to give an immediate answer without an opportunity of consulting my friends, I rashly accepted the appointment. I could have but one motive for taking this step. I thought the Churches in danger, and hoped by this means to be instrumental in preventing those evils, I had so much cause to apprehend. I can, however, with truth declare, that I then looked upon Independency rather as an expedient, and an hazardous one indeed, thrown out in Terrorem, in order to procure some favorable terms, than as a measure that was seriously to be persisted in at all events. My sud. den change of conduct will clearly evince this to have been my idea of the matter Upon the return of the committee of Congress, appointed to confer with Lord Howe, I soon discovered their real intentions. The dif SIR-If this letter should happen to find you in coun- ferent accounts, which each member gave of his concil, or in the field, before you read another sentence, Iference, the time they took to make up the matter for beg you to take the first opportunity of retiring, and the public view; and the amazing disagreement between weighing well its important contents. the newspaper account, and the relation I myself had from the mouth of one of the committee, convinced me, that there must have been some unfar and ungeThe determination to treat on no nerous procedure. other ground than that of Independency, which put it out of his Lordship's power to mention any terms at all, was a sufficient proof to me, that Independency was the idol which they had long wished to set up, and that, rather than sacrifice this, they would deluge their coun try in blood. the Philadelphia, Oct. 8th, 1777. You are perfectly acquainted with the part I have taken in the present unhappy contest. I was indeed among the first to bear my public testimony against having any recourse to threats, or even an armed opposition. But the torrent soon became too strong for my feeble efforts to resist. I wished to follow my countrymen as far only as virtue, and the righteousness of their cause would permit me. I was however prevailed upon among the rest of my clergical brethren, to gratify pressing desire of my fellow citizens, by preaching From the moment I determined upon my resignation a sermon to one of the city battallions. I was pressed and, in the beginning of October, 1776, sent it in to publish this sermon, and reluctantly consented. From form to Mr Hancock, after having officiated only two a personal attachment of near twenty years' standing, months and three weeks, and from that time, as far as and a high respect for your character in private as well my safety would permit, I have been uniformly oppoas public life, I took the liberty of dedicating it to you. sed to all their measures. I his circumstantial account I received your thanks for my performance, in a letter, of my conduct I thought due to the friendship you wherein you expressed in the most delicate and obliging were obliging as to express for me, and I hope will be terms your regard for me, and your wishes for a conti-sufficent to justify any seeming inconsistencies in the nuance of my friendship and approbation of your con- part I have acted' And now, my dear sir, suffer me, duct. Farther than this I intended not to proceed My in the language of truth and real affection, to address sermons peaks for itself, and utterly disclaims the idea of myself to you. All the world must be convinced, that Independency. My sentiments were well known to my you engaged in the service of your country, from friends; I communicated them without reserve to many motives perfectly disinterested. You risked every thing respectable Members of Congress, who expressed a warm that was dear to you. You abandoned all those sweets approbation of them. I persisted in using the public of domestic life, of which your affluent fortune gave you Prayers for my Sovereign, and the royal family, to the an uninterrupted enjoyment. But had you, could you very last moment, though threatened with insults from have had the least idea of matters being carried to such the violence of a party. On the declaration of Inde- a dangerous extremity, as they are now? Your most pendency, I called my vestry and solemnly put the intimate friends at that time, shuddered at the thought question to them, whether they thought it best for the of a separation from the mother country; and I took it peace and welfare of the congregations, to shut up the for granted, that your sentiments coincided with theirs. churches, or to continue the service, without using the What have been the consequences of this rash and viopetitions for the royal family. This was the sad alterna-lent measure? A degeneracy of representation, conve. I concluded to abide by their decision, as I could fusion of councils, blunders without number. not have time to consult my spiritual superior in Eng-most respectable characters have withdrawn themselves, and They deemed it most expedient, under such and are succeeded by a great majority of illiberal and critical circumstances, to keep open the churches, that violent men Take an impartial view of the present the congregations might not be dispersed, which we had congress. What can you expect from them? Your VOL. IX. 11 The feelings must be greatly hurt by the representation from your native province. At cy. He gave me his reasons. Independency, said he, can never be supported, unless France should deYou have no longer a Randolph, a Bland, or a Brax- clare war against England. I well know the state of ton. -Men, whose names will be ever revered, whose her finances. Years to come will not put them in a demands never rose above the first grounds on which situation to venture upon a breach with England. they set out, and whose truly generous and virtuous sen- this moment, there are two parties in the Court of Vertiments, I have frequently heard with rapture from their sailles, one enlisted under the Duke of Choiseul, the own lips. O, my dear sir, what a sad contrast! Characters other under Count Maurepas. Choiseul has no chance now present themselves, whose minds can never mingle of succeeding-he is violent for war. Maurepas must with your own. Your Harrison alone remains, and he, get the better-he is for economy and peace." This disgusted with his unworthy associate. As to those of was his information, which I mentioned to several memmy own province, some of them are so obscure, that bers of Congress. They treated it as a fable; dependtheir very names have not met my ears before, and ing entirely on the intelligence from Dr. Franklin. others have only been distinguished for the weakness of The truth of the matter is this: Dr. Franklin built upon their understandings, and the violence of their tempers. the success of Cho scul. Upon his arrival in France, One alone I except from the general charge, a man of he found him out of place, his councils reprobated, and virtue, dragged reluctantly into their measures, and re- his party dwindled to an insignificant faction. This strained by some false ideas of honor from retracting, you may depend upon to be the true state of the court after having gone too far. You cannot be at a loss to of France. And further, by a vast number of letters,. discover whose name answers to this character. From found on board prizes taken by the King's ships, it apthe New England provinces can you find one, that as a pears, that all commerce with the merchants of France, gentlemen, you could wish to associate with, unless the through whom alone the supplies have been conveyed, soft and mild address of Mr. Hancock can atone for the will soon be at an end, the letters being full of comwant of every other qualification, necessary for the sta-plaints of no remittances from America, and many indition he fills? Bankrupts, attorneys, and men of desper-viduals having suffered greatly on that account. ate fortune, are his colleagues. Maryland no longer sends a Tilghman, and a protestant Carroll. Carolina has lost her Lynch, and the elder Middleton has retired. Are the dregs of a congress then still to influence a mind like yours? These are not the men, whom you engaged to serve. These are not the men, whom America has chosen to represent her now. Most of them elected by a little low faction, and the few gentlemen that are among them, now well known to be upon the balance, and looking up to your hand alone to remove the beam. It is you, sir, and you alone, that support the present congress. Of this you must be fully sensible. Long before they left Philadelphia, their dignity and consequence was gone. What must they be now since their precipitate retreat? I write with freedom, but without invective. I know those things to be true; and I write to one whose own observation must have convinced him that they are so. After this view of congress, turn to your army. All the world knows that its very existence depends upon you; that your death, or captivity disperses it in a moment, and that there is not a man on that side of the question in America, capable of succeeding you. As to the army itself, what have you to expect from them? Have they not frequently abandoned even yourself in the hour of extremity? Have you, can you have the least confidence in the sect of undisciplined men and officers, many of whom have been taken from the lowest of the people, without principle, without courage? Take away those that surround your person, and how very few are there, that you can ask to sit at your table? Turn to your little Navy. Of that little, what is left? Of the Delaware fleet, part are taken, the rest must soon surrender. Of those in the other provinces, some are taken, one or two at sea, and the others lying unmanned and unrigged in their harbours. And now, where are your resources? Oh, my dear sir! how sadly have you been abused by a faction void of truth and void of tenderness to you and your country? They have amused you with the hopes of a declaration of war on the part of France. Believe me, from the best authority, it was a fiction from the first. Early in the year 1776, a French gentleman was introduced to me, with whom I became intimately acquainted. His business to all appearance, was to speculate in the mercantile way. But I believe it will be known, that in his own country, he moved in a higher sphere. He saw your camp. He became acquainted with all your military preparations. He was introduced to congress, and engaged with them in a commercial contract. In the course of our intimacy he has frequently told me, that he hoped the Americans would never think of Independen From your friends in England, you have nothing to expect; their numbers have diminished to a cypher; the spirit of the whole nation is in full activity against you. A few sounding names among the nobility, though perpetually wrung in your ears, are said to be without character, without influence. Disappointed ambition, I am told, has made them desperate; and that they only wish to make the deluded Americans, instruments of their revenge. All orders and ranks of men in Great Britain are now unanimous, and determined to risk their all in the contest. Irade and manufactures are found to flourish, and new channels are continually opening, that will perhaps more than supply the loss of the old. In a word, your harbours are blocked up, your cities fall one after another; fortress after fortress, battle after battle is lost. A British army, after having passed almost unmolested through a vast extent of country, have possessed themselves with ease of the capital of America. How unequal the contest was! How fruitless the expense of blood. Under so many discouraging circumstances, can virtue, can honor, can the love of your country, prompt you to persevere? Humanity itself (and sure I am, humanity is no stranger to your breast) calls upon you to desist. Your army must perish for want of common necessaries, or thousands of innocent families must perish to support them. Wherever they encamp, the country must be impoverished. Wherever they march, the troops of Britain will pursue, and must complete the devastation, which America herself had begun." Perhaps it may be said, that it is "better to die, than to be a slave." This indeed is a splendid max m in theo-✨ ry, and, perhaps, in some instances, may be found experimentally true. But where there is the least probability of an happy accommodation, surely wisdom and humanity call for some sacrifices to be made to prevent inevitable destruction. You well know there is but one invincible bar to such an accommodation. Could this be removed, other obstacles might readily be overcome. ' is to you, and you alone, your bleeding country looks, and calls aloud for this sacrifice. Your arm alone has sufficient strength to remove this bar. May heaven inspire you with the glorious resolution of exerting this strength at so interesting a crisis, and thus immortalizing yourself as the friend and guardian of your country. Your penetrating eye needs not more explicit lan guage to discern my meaning. With that prudence and delicacy, therefore, of which I know you to be possessed, represent to congress the indispensable necessity of re scinding the hasty and ill-advised declaration of Independency. Recommend, and you have an undoubted right to recommend, an immediate cessation of hostilities. Let the controversy be taken up, where that declaration left it, and where Lord Howe certainly expected to have found it. Let men of clear and impartial characters, in or out of congress, gentlemen liberal in their sentiments, heretofore independent in their fortunes, and some such are surely to be found in America, be appointed to confer with his majesty's commissioners. Let them, if they please, prepare some well digested, constitutional plan, to lay before them, as the commencement of a negotiation. When they have gone thus far, I am confident that the most happy consequences will ensue. Unanimity will immediately take place through the different provinces. Thousands, that are now ardently wishing and praying for such a measure, will step forth and declare themselves the zealous advocates of constitutional liberty, and millions will bless the hero, that left the field of war, to decide this most important contest with the weapons of wisdom and humanity. O sir! let no false ideas of worldly honor deter you from engaging in so glorious a task. Whatever censure may be thrown out by mean and illiberal minds, your character will rise in the estimation of the virtuous and noble. It will appear with lustre in the annals of history, and form a glorious contrast to that of those who have fought to obtain conquest and gratify their own ambition, by the destruction of their own species, and the ruin of their country. Be assured, that I write not this under the eye of any British officer, or any person connected with the British army or ministry. The sentiments I have expressed are the real sentiments of my heart, such as I have long held, and which I should have made known to you by letter before, had I not fully expected an opportunity of a private conference. When you passed through Philadelphia, on your way to Wilmington, I was confined by a severe fit of the gravel to my chamber. I have since continued so much indisposed, and times have been so very distressing, that I had neither spirits to write a letter, nor opportunity to convey it when written. Nor do I yet know by what means I shall get these sheets to your hands I would fain hope that I have said nothing by which your delicacy can be in the least hurt. If I have, it has, I assure you, been without the least intention, and therefore your candor will lead you to forgive me. But what I have said is partly from my own knowledge, and partly from the information of some respectable members of the former, and some of the best officers of the latter. I would not offend the meanest person upon earth. What I say to you, I say in confidence, to answer what I cannot but deem a a most valuable purpose I love my country, I love you. But to the love of truth, the love of peace, and the love of my God, I hope I shall be enabled, if called to the trial, to sacrifice every other inferior love. If the arguments made use of in this letter, should have so much influence, as to engage you to the glorious work I have so warmly recommended, I shall ever deem my success as the highest temporal favor, that providence could grant me. Your interposition and advice I am confident, will meet with a favorable reception, from the authority under which you act. If it should not, you have one infallible resource still left-negotiate for America at the head of your army. After all, it may appear presumption in an individual to address himself to you upon a subject of such magnitude, or to say what measures should best secure the interest and welfare of a whole continent. The favorable and friendly opinion you have always expressed of me emboldened me to undertake it; and (which has greatly added to the weight of the motive) I have been strongly impressed with a sense of duty upon this occasion, which left my conscience uneasy, and my heart afflicted, till I had fully discharged it: I am no enthusiast. The case is new and singular to me. I could not enjoy a moment's peace till the letter was written, With the most ardent prayers for your spiritual as well as temporal welfare, I am, sir, your sincere friend and obedient servant, JACOB DUCHE. To his Excellency, GEN. WASHINGTON. THE LATE STEPHEN GIRARD, ESQ. Departed this life, at Philadelphia, on Monday the 26th of December, 1831, in the 82d year of his age, STEPHEN GIRARD, Esq., a citizen more extensively known throughout the United States, perhaps, than any other individual who has not appeared on the political theatre. It is not our design to write a biography of this extraordinary man, or to pro ounce an eulog um upon his merits. It is sufficient for us to say, that he held a high place in the esteem of the inhabitants of Philadelphia-that he was charitable and humane, temperate in his habits, rigid in his economy, just and upright in his dealings, and devoted to industrious pursuits with a perseverance and an intelligence seldom equalled. It is particularly in reference to his successful accumulation of property, by his commercial and banking operations, that we propose to speak of him; and in this particular he stands altogether unrivalled, having no equal, in point of wealth, in the Western Hemisphere. Mr. Girard was a native of Bourdeaux, but came to this country above fifty years ago. He commenced mercantile business in Philadelphia with a very small capital, which he had saved from his earnings as a master of a vessel. His habits of living were the most economical; and by the time the period had arrived, at which our neutral position gave the shipping of the United States superior advantages in commerce, he had accumulated a sufficiency to enable him to enter the field as a ship owner. Taking advantage, then, of the occasion thus presented, he adopted the principles of good faith in his navigating operations, acted most truly the part of a neutral, and to avoid incurring the risks which attached in those belligerent days, to vessels suspected of covering enemies' property under the American flag, refused to carry on board his ships property belonging to any body but himself. The rigid observance of this rule, acquired for him a high reputation amongst the officers of the British navy; and it was a rare thing for a vessel be. longing to Mr. Girard to be detained on the high seas. Whilst other merchants were interrupted in their voyages, and had their vessels captured, sent in for adjudication, and sometimes condemned, rightfully or wrongfully-the ships of Mr. Girard sailed unmolested. He was not even in the habit of making insurance on his vessels and cargoes; and so great was his good fortune in this particular, that he very seldom, in his long career, lost a vessel. Soon after he expiration of the Charter of the old Bank of the United States, in 1811, Mr. Girard purchased their Banking-house in Third street, and commenced the operations of a Banker. The capital which he placed in his banking establishment was understood to have been $1,200,000, which he not long afterwards vested in the hands of trustees, in order that, in case of his decease, no interruption should take place in the fulfilment of his engagements as a banker, and that no derangement in the affairs of the commercial community should result from a sudden withdrawal of his capital. The management of the bank was, however, reserved to himself; and, from its first formation to the period of his last illness, the discounts were entirely regulated by himself and his cashier. Of this capital, and of its accumulations, it is understood that not more than $300,000 have ever been withdrawn from the institution, and that at a late period; and when we state the fact, derived from a respectable source, that the total capital at this time is but $4,000,000, it will show that Mr. Girard's banking operations were always conducted within safe and prudent limits; for it is not known that he experienced many heavy losses. At compound interest of eight per cent. money doubles in nine years and two days; and as Mr. Girard commenced his bank in March, 1812, his capital should have been more than quadrupled, had his income, clear of expenses, been equal to eight per cent. per annum. bargains-took care of his six-pences, knowing that the But it must not be passed by, in noticing the transactions of this first private banker in the United States, as well in regard to time as to extent of capital, that r. Girard was a sound theorist upon questions of banking. He understood the matter instinctively. He knew that banks were only serviceable to a community, by enabling persons possessing capitals to anticipate them by getting their bills receivable discounted, and not by lending capitals; and, hence, he set his face, from the commencement, against lending money upon permanent accommodation notes, and confined himself so exclusively to the discounting of real paper, that he was of ten enabled to lend money, whilst other banks were calling in. At the time of the suspension of specie payments, which commenced in August, 1814, and continued to January, 1817, Mr. Girard foresaw that the public might not have the same spirit of forbearance towards a private individual banker, as they would towards a corporation, and he accordingly took legal advice on the subject, which led him to withdraw his notes, and to make loans and accept deposits payable only in the notes of the incorporated banks. Had he not done this, the probability is, that all who had claims upon him in the form of deposits, would have drawn out their funds in con; and he would not only have been driven down, in his discounts, to the amount of his capital, but would not have been able even to get payment from those who had borrowed his coin, in any other money than the depreciated paper of the incorpo-shon-keepers, jewellers, and many other callings; but rated banks. This economical style of life, known to every body as characterizing Mr. Girard, has induced some persons to entertain very erroneous views of the influence of his mode of living upon the welfare of the community. You would hear people say, "It is a pity that Mr. Giard does not make a better use of his money-he ought to live more affluently, and, by that means, give employment to tradesmen, and other poor people. certain, that Mr. Girard contributed very little to the cooks, French restaurateurs, ice-cream makers, dancing support of livery servants, footmen, coachmen, pastrymasters, musicians, play-actors, hair-dressers, fancy 39 It is very his income was not, on that account, less unexpended. During the whole period of his banking operations, His fancy was to set in motion the industry of ship-buildMr. Girard carried on foreign commerce more or less. ers, riggers and sail-makers, seamen, stevedores and His operations were generally directed to long or cir-draymen, and of late years, that of carpenters, bricklaycuitous voyages. His trade to China, the East Indies, ers, brick-makers, masons, plaisterers, panters, glaziers, and other countries east of the Cape of Good Hope, marble masons, and all the other mechanics employed was at one time very extensive, as was also his trade to by him in building houses. What portion of his capital the North of Europe. Several foreign voyages were and income he did not so expend, he lent to others, to sometimes performed without the ship's returning be expended as they might see fit; and perhaps it may home; and hence it may be seen, that the labors of the be said, that not a dollar of his immense wealth was counting-house were not so multiplied as those which suffered to lie idle. So far from his mode of expendiare necessary to be performed with much less capital | ture operating disadvantageously to the working classes, employed in short voyages. To this circumstance, it has been, of all others, the one which was calculated added to very early rising, is to be ascribed the leisure to proluce the greatest good to the community. No which Mr. Girard enjoyed, and which was devoted to part of his income has been spent unproductively-for the cultivation of a farm a few miles from the city, every dollar which has gone towards the support of inwhich he visited for years almost every day, and where, dustry, there is a dollar's worth, or something more to perhaps, he imbibed the golden sentiment which has show for it; which would not have been the case, had been ascribed to him, and which shows that he did not the course been pursued which so many people deem consider that he lived alone for himself-"If I thought to be the most beneficial. Even the little he consumed I should die to-morrow, I would plant a tree to-day.' himself, in his support, was but the wages of a hardIndeed he acted uniformly upon this principle; and we working overseer, or manas er, engaged in seeing the le rn, that, having lately contracted for the building of property entrusted to his stewardship applied to the a number of houses on the square of ground called by most productive purposes. And cannot any one per his name, situate between Market and Chesnut and ceive that the superintendence of so frugal and indusEleventh and Twelfth streets, he made provision in his trious a steward, has been the means of accumulating an will for their being completed, in case he should not immense fund in the city of Philadelphia, which could never have existed, but owing to the cheapness with which so large a capital was managed? The same sum divided into a hundred portions, could never have produced the same accumulation; and for this simple reason, that, in its management, a hundred individuals or families would have had to be supported, whereas, in this case, only one individual was to be supported, and he too, very frugally. Had Mr. Girard been a miser who buried his wealth, had he hid his talent in a napkin, then, indeed, he would have been obnoxious to the imputation of an unfaithful steward. But he did not sohe put his talent to the exchangers, where it accumulated for the benefit of the community, more than for that of himself; and, as far as the question of national live to see it done. one. When we say that Mr. Girard was an economist, we do not say it merely in a relative sense, but in a positive We recollect ourselves once calling at his counting-house to see him on business, and were told by his clerk, that he was then busily employed in the cellar, cutting up with his own hands his winter's pork, and could not be seen. Hle entertained no company, lived upon the most simple food, plainly cooked, engaged in none of the scenes or indulgences of social life; and, being a widower for some years past, without children, his life was a solitary one. His chief happiness appeared to be, employment. He was never idle, but was emphatically, a man of business. He was rigid in his PENNSYLVANIA HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY, wealth is concerned, he may be called a good and faithful servant If these views are correct, Mr. Girard cannot but be reHis garded as a great public benefactor, nor can his death be proconsidered other than as a great public loss. perty, it is true, is left behind him, but it can never hereafter be so productively and economically managed; and whilst the individuals or corporations who inherit it are gainers by his death, the community are losers. The aid which he has rendered to several works of Internal Improvement, by loans, and subscriptions to their stock, which invariably gave strength and confidence to the companies concerned in them, would alone entitle him to the appellation we have bestowed upon him, and we trust that a monument to his memory may decorate some conspicuous spot in our city, as evidence of the public gratitude to one who has done so much service to the country, and who has set so bright an example for the imitation of the poor and industrious.-Banner of the Constitution. 16th. For the best gooseberries, not less than one 17th. For the best cherries, not less than two pounds, dollars. 21st. Eor the best grapes, foreign, not less than four bunches, to be produced on or before the second Mon2d. For the best native grapes, not less than four day in October, (8th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. bunches, to be produced on or before the second Mon23d. For the best plums, not less than two dozen, to day in October, (8th,) a premium of three dollars. ber, 8th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. PENNSYLVANIA HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY, Established in Philadelphia, offers the following Premi-be produced on or before the second Monday in Octoums for Esculent Vegetables and Fruits, for 1832 and 1833. 1st. For the best forced cauliflowers, not less than three in number, to be produced on or before Wednesday, May 9th, 1832, a premium of five dollars. 2d. For the best early cauliflowers grown in the open ground, not less than three in number, to be produced on or before the second Monday of July, (9th,) 1832, a premium of five dollars. 3d For the best late or autumnal cauliflowers, not less than three in number, to be produced on or before the second Monday in November, 1832, a premium of five dollars. 4th. For the best early cabbage, not less than six heads to be produced on or before the last Saturday in May, (26th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. 5th. For the best early peas, not less than a half peck in quantity, to be produced on or before Saturday, 5th May, 1852, a premium of three dollars. 6th. For the best early peas grown in Pennsylvania, not less than a half peck, to be produced on or before Saturday, 10th May, 1852, a premium of three dollars. 7th For the best broccoli, not less than five in number, to be produced on or before the second Monday in November. (12th,) 1832, a premium of five dollars. 24th. For the best early potatoes, not less than one peck, to be produced on or before the last Saturday in May, (26th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. 25th. For the best early apples, not less than half a peck, to be produced on or before the second Monday in August, (13th,) 1832, a premiuin of two dollars. 26th. For the best fall apples, not less than half a peck, to be produced on or before the second Monday in October, (8th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. 27th. For the best winter apples, not less than half a peck, to be produced on or after the second Monday in January, (10th,) 1833, a premium of three dollars. 28th. For the best early peaches, not less than half a peck, to be produced on or before the second Monday in August, (15th, 1832, a premium of three dollars. 29th. For the best late peaches, not less than half a peck, to be produced on or after the first Monday in October, (8th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. 30th. For the best early cucumbers, not less than six in number,, to be produced on or before Wednesday, 31st. For the best forced lettuce, not less than four 2d May, 1832, a premium of five dollars. heads, to be produced on or before Wednesday, 18th April, 1832, a premium of three dollars. 32d. For the best lettuce grown in the open air, not 8th. For the best Melongena, (egg plant) not less than three in number, to be produced on or before Sa- less than six heads, to be produced on or before Wedturday, 4th of August, 1832, a premium of three dol-nesday, the 16th May, 1832, a premium of three dollars. lars. 33d. For the best figs, not less than one dozen, to be 9th. For the best artichokes, not less than six in num-produced on or before Saturday, 29th September, 1832, her, to be produced on or before the second Monday in June, (11th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. 10th. For the best cardoon, (cynara cardunculus) not less than five stalks, to be produced on or before the second Monday in October, (8th,) 1832, a premium of five dollars. a premium of three dollars. 34th. For the best quinces, not less than a half peck, to be produced on or before Wednesday, 31st October, 1832, a premium of three dollars. 35th. For the introduction of any new and valuable seeds, fruits or plants during the year 1832, a premium of from two to ten dollars, at the discretion of the So 11th. For the best celery, not less than six stalks, to be produced on or before the second Monday in Novem-ciety. ber, (12th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars, 12th. For the best taragon, not less than three fair sized bunches, to be produced on or before the second Monday in May, (14th,) 1832, a premium of two dol lars. In addition to the premium, the Society's Certificate, handsomely framed, will be awarded to each successful competitor. The object of the Society in offering these premiums, is to excite a spirit of emulation among cultivators, to 13th. For the best tomato, (love apple) not less than improve the varieties of fruits and vegetables, and disone dozen, to be produced on or before the last Wed-seminate a knowledge of the art of gardening. Therenesday in June, (27th,) 1832, a premium of three dol- fore all persons, whether members of the society or not, are eligible as competitors, and are invited to become lars. such. 14th. For the best strawberries, not less than two quarts, to be produced on or before Saturday, 26th May, 1832, a premium of three dollars. 15th. For the best raspberries, not less than two quarts, to be produced on or before the second Monday in July, (9th,) 1832, a premium of three dollars. Fruits and vegetables may be sent to the Seed Warehouse of Messrs. D. & C. Landreth, No. 85, Chesnut street, where the Committee will attend for examination every Wednesday and Saturday morning, from 8 to 9 o'clock. |