Bennett’s Notice of his Marriage.

Cromwell Argus, Volume III, Issue 149, 17 September 1872, Page 3

Bennett’s Notice of his Marriage.

To the Headers of tile “ Herald”—Declaration of Love—Caught at Last— Going to he Married—A’ e\v Movement in Civilisation. I am going to bo married in a few days. The weather is so beautiful, times are getting so good, the prospects of political and moral reform so auspicious, that I cannot resist the divine instinct of honest nature any longer, so I am going to be married to one of the most splendid women in intellect, in heart, in soul, in property, in person, in manner, that i have yet seen during ray interesting pilgrimage through human life, 1 cannot stop in my career. I must fulfil that awful destiny which the Almighty Father has written against my name in the broad letters of life, against the wall of Heaven. I must give the world a pattern of happy wedded life, with all the charities that spring from a_ nuptial love.

In a few days I shall be married, according to the most holy rites of the most holy Christian Church, to one of the most remarkable, accomplished, and beautiful young women of the age. She possesses a fortune. I sought and found a fortune—a large fortune. She has no Stonington shares of Manhattan stock, but in purity and uprightness she is worth a half a million of pure coin. Can any swindling bank show as much 1 In good sense and elegance another half million ; in soul, mind, and beauty, millions of millions, equal to the whole of all the rotten banks in the world.

Happily the patronage of the public to the Herald is nearly 25,000 dobs, per annum, almost equal' to a President’s salary. Put property in the world’s good’s was never'my object. Fame, public good, usefulness in my day and generation ; the religious associations of female excellence ; the progress of true industry-—these have been my dreams by night and my desire by day. In the new and holy condition into which I am about to enter, and to enter with the same reverential feelings as 1 would heaven itself, 1 anticipate some sig-

nal change in my feelings, in my views, in my purposes, in my pursuits. What they may be 1 know not—time alone can toll.

My ardent desire has been through life to reach the highest order of human excellence by the shortest possible cut. Associated night and day, in sickness and in health, in war and peace, with a woman of the highest order of excellence, must produce some curious results in my heart and feelings, and those results the future will develop in duo time in the columns of the Herald. Meanwhile I return my heartfelt thanks for the enthusiastic patronage of the public, both of Europe and America. The holy estate of wedlock will only increase my desire to be still more useful. God Almighty bless you all. James Gordon Bennett. In the postscript to this announcement Mr Bennett gives notice that he shall have no time to waste upon editors who attack him “ until after marriage and the honeymoon.” On the Bth of June, 1810, the marriage was announced in the editorial columns of the Herald as followsr- “ Married. Ou Saturday afternoon, the Oih hist., by the Bov. Dr Bowers, at St. i'eter’s Catholic Church, iu Barclay-street, James Go don Bennett, proprietor ai d editor of tho AVm York Herald , to Henrietta Agues Cream What may bo the effects of this event on the great newspaper contest now waging in New York, time alone can show.”— Xcw York Herald, June, 18-10.

1 A friend relates a little story which very fairly illustrates the ups and downs of | those who venture into stock speculations. | Our friend says that one day. a week or i two since, he met a painter of his acquaiu- | lance whom he knew .to he dabbling in ■ stocks, lint the painter no longer wore his paint-stained clothes. lie shone in a i new broadcloth suit, sported a glossy i “ plug,” and wore neatly tit ted kid gloves, i “Hello! how is this]” cried our friend. ■“Stocks, Stocks!” laconically replied the painter as he strode along twirling his slender switch of a cane. He had made some bOOl) dollars in a few days by a sudden rise of stocks, and had resolved to throw aside the paint brush and become a stock speculator. A day or two since our i friend met the same man with a big roll of wall paper under his arm. a coarse apron j reaching from his chin to his knees, and a | big bucket of paste in Ins hand. “ Hello !” cried our friend in astonishment, “ how is , this again 1”—“ Stocks, Stocks !’’ briefly j responded the philosophical painter as he marched away to his nearest job with his . roll of paper and bucket of paste. Ile had I gone through.— Virginia Enterprise.