The Albany patriot. (Albany, Ga.) 1845-1866, April 29, 1846, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextTHE ALBANY. PATRIOT, IS PUBLISHED EVERT WEDNESDAY HORRHtO, BY NELSON TIFT & SETH N. BOUGHTON, Editors and Proprietors. ranged so that the Pope and the Emperor Charlemagne in the basilick of Sts Peter, could rest there for an instant. when the Roman Clergy suddenly pro- TERMS. TWO Dollars per annum, if paid in advance, or Three Dollars at the end of tho year. Advertisements not exceeding twelve lines, will be inserted at One Dollar for the first insertion, and Filly cents for each continuance.. Advertisements not having.the nnmber of insertions specified, will be published until forbid. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Adminis trators and Guardians, are required by law to he advertised in a public gazette, sixty days previous to the day ofsale. The sales of Personal Property must be advertised in like manner forty days. ebtors and Creditors of an estate must Notice to Debtors be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Odinary for leave to sell Land ar ' Negroes, must be published weekly for four months. Monthly Advertisements, One Dollar per square for each insertion.' UTAH Letters on business must be post paid. POETRY. SYMPATHY. BY BISHOP IIEBER. * A knight and alady once met in a grove, While each was in quest of a fugitive love: A river ran mournfully murmuring by, And they wept in its waters for sympathy. “ Oh, never was knight such a sorrow that bore,** “ Oh, never was maid so deserted before,” “ From life and its woes let us instantly fly, “ And jump in together for company.” They searched for an eddy that suited the deed, But here was a bramble and there was a weed, “ How tiresome it is,” said the maid with a sigh— So they sat down to rest them in company. They gazed on each other, the maid and the knight: How fair was her form and how goodly his height— “A mounrnful embrace,” said the youth,“ere we die;” So kissing and crying kept company. “ Oh, had I but woo’d such an angel as you:” “ Oh, had but my swain been a quarter as'true”— “ To miss such perfection how blinded was I!” Sure now they were Excellent company. . At length spoke the lass ’twixt a smile and a tear, “ The weather is cold for a watery bier, “ When the summer returns we may easily die; “ Till then let us.sorrow in company.” MISCELLANY. NAPOLEON. HIS MARRIAGE WITH JOSEPHINE ASP CORONATION. BY M. THIERS. Thu eve of tliiil grand solemnity now approached; that is lo say, 11n-. first of Dec ember, Josephine, who had (imn.l la- vor will, die; Holv Lather Icy a kind of dcvoiedness much akin lotlinl of the wo men of Iialy, Josephine sought an ifiler- view willi him, lo make an avowal which she Imped to turn lo good account. She declared to Napnleqn, as, at tile lime of ' her marriage, religious ceremonies were abolished.* The very throne presented a strange specimen of the manners of the lime.— Napoleon had pul an end lo this slate of things lor his sister, the princess Mural, by asking the Cardinal Caprara to give her the nuptial benediction ; hut he had not chosen lo do the same lor himself. Tlie Pope, scandalized by a situation which, in the eyes of ihe Church, was a mere concubinage, instantly demanded an interview of Napoleon, and to that in terview, dedpied thet he could very well consecrate him, for ihe state of the con sciences of emperors had never been in quired into by the Church, when ihey • were to be crowned, hot that he could not by crowning Josephine, give ihe di vine consecration lo n sjate of concubin age, Napoleon, irritated against Jose phine for this interested revelation, fear ing to offend ihe Pope, -whom he knew to be inflexerable in matters of tail h, and moreover, unwilling lo alter a program 1 me which had already been published, consented to receive the benediction.—■ Josephine, sharply.reprimanded by her husbaud, but delighted I y her‘success, received, on the night proceeding her cor onation, the sacrament of the marriage in the chapel of the Tuilleries. it was Car dinal Fesch, having M de Talleyrand and Marshal Bertbier as witnesses, who, with the most profound secresy, married the Emperor and Empress. The secret was faithfully , kept until the epoch of the di vorce. On the following morning, the reddened eyes of Josephine still bore tes timony of the tears - which' these inward agitations had cost’ her. - On Sunday, the second of December, 8 cold, but clear winter’s day, that popu lation of Paris, which forty years later, we have seen crowding in similar weather, lowards.lhe .mortal remains of Napoleon, hurried Jo see the passing of the imperial ■ cortege." The Pope first set oin' at ten O’clock in the morning, and much earlier . than ihe Emperor,-m order.that the two corteges should, not! hifider each'.other.— He was accompanied. by a numerous dy ofclergy, attired with the most cost- v and escorted ,by 'detach- r imperial guard. A. richly After a brief stay, the Pope, entered the church, where for several previous hpurs there had been assembled the dep uties ot the towns, the representatives of the magistracy and of the army, the six ty bishops with ibeir clergy, ihe Senate, the Legislative body, the Council of State, the Princes of Nassau, Hesse and Baden, the arch Chancellor of the German Em pire, and .lastly, the ministers ol different powers. The groat doors of Notre Dame had been closed, because the back, of the Im perial throne was placed against it. The church, therefore, was entered by the side dnois, situated at the two extreniitTes ot the traversal nave. When ihe Pope, pre ceded by the cross, and by the ensigns of the successor of St. Peter appeared with in that ancient basilick of Si. Louis, all present rose -from their seats, and five hundred musicians pealed forth in solemn strains, the consecrated chant, Tuts Pe trus. The effect of this was instant and sublime. The Pope proceeded at a slow pace, direct to the altar, before which he knelt, and then took his place on a throne that had been prepared for him lo the right of the altar. The sixty prelates, of the French church presented themselves in succession to salute him. To each of them, constitulional or not, his counte nance was pquully benevolent. The ar rival of the imperial family was now a- waited The church ot Notre Dame was decorated with unequuled magnificence. Hangings of velvet sprinkled with golden bees, descended from the roof to the pave ment. At the foot of the altar stood two plain arm chairs, which the Emperor and Empress were to occupy before their crowning. At the west end of the church and opposite to ihe altar, raised upon twenty-four steps, and placed upon col umns which supported a pediment, slnod an immense throne, a sort of monument within a monument intended for the Em peror whrn crowned and his wife. It was the custom in both Roman and French ritual. The monarch, did not seal him- .sclfupon tlie throne until he bad been crowned by the Pontiff. They now waited for the Emperor, and waited fora considerable time. This was the only disagreeable circumstance iti this graud solemnity. The position of the Pope during this longdelay was pain- lid. The fear of the director of ceremo nies lest the two corteges should happen lo meet was the cause of this delayThe Emperor set out from the Tuilleries in a carriage completely ^enclosed by glass, surrounded by gill genii, bearing a crown a popular carriage in France, and always recognised by.the Parisians when it has appeared iit subsequent cerentonies.—He wasiiltired in a custome designed by the greatest pairiter of the day and very simi lar lolhecosiumnoflbe. sixteenth century. He was not to assume the imperii) cos tume until he reached the Archbishopric, and at Ihe moment of entering the church. Escorted by liis Marshals on horseback, he proceeded slowly along the Roe St. Hottore, the Quay of Seine, and the Place Notre Datne, amidst the acclamations of immense crowds, delighted to see their favorite General become Emperor, as though he had not himself achieved this with his excitable passions, and his war like heroism, and as if some touch of a magic- wand had done it for him. Napoleon arrived at the portico we have already described," alighted from his car riage, proceeded to the Archbishopric, look the crown, die sceptre, and the im perial robe, and directed hiscourse to the cathedral. Beside him was borne the grand crown, in the form ol a tiara, and modelled after that of Charlemagne. Af ter this first stage of the ceremony he wore only the crown. of the Ceasars, namely, a simply golden laurel. All ad mired that noble head, noble beneath that golden laurel, as some antique med allion. Having entered the Church to the sound of pealing music, he knelt, and- then passed on lo the arm chaw which he wa^to occupy previous lo taking posses sion of the throne. The ceremony then commenced. The sceptre, the sword, and the imperial robe had .been- placed upon the altar. The Pope Anointed the Emperor on the fore head, ihe areas, the hands, then blessed the sword, with which he girded him, and the sceptre which he placed in his hand, and approached to take up the crown. 'Napoleon,.who had watched his movements,-now, as he bad ' premised, settled the difficulty by firmly, fhongh not violently, seizing the crown m.d plac ing it on his own head. This action. claimed him Emperor of the West—“Vi va t in Akernum, Semper Augustus.”—■ At this chant, shouts of “ Vive F Empe- rear,” resounded throughout the arches .of Notre Dame; the cannon, adding their thunder, announced to all Paris the sol emn moment of Napoleon’s sonsecration, with all the forms received among man kind. pr senterl him with the form of the oath, a bishop handed him the New Testament, and upon the bonk of Christians he look that oath which embodied the great prin ciples of the Revolution. A pontifical high mass was then chanted, and the day was far abvanced when the two col leges regained the Tuileries, through an immense concourse of people. . EUGENE SUE AND THE UNKNOWN. It has been the custom, says the Pari sian Journal des Debals, for the great novelist, notwithstanding his reputation as a man of fashion, to spend much of his time in visiting the garrets of the city, re lieving the poor, and at the same moment gathering a deep knowledge of human nature. On a dark and sleety night, last November, he was standing in one of the most wretched holes in Paris, where a poor widow and her two children were lying in a state of shocking destitution. They, were without bread, or cover ing, or fire; and the beauty of the orphan children, a girl of some fifteen, added interest to the scene. Sue gave them some money, and left resolving to next day. He did call, and to his utter astonishment, found the widow and her children surrounded with all the comforts of life—fire on the hearth, hasketsnfbread, Bologna sausages in profusion, and in fact every tiling necessary to make home happy. In the midst of this scene of pro fusion stood a slender young man, very handsomely dressed. He was the cause of this sudden relief; the widow and het daughters "blessed him with tears in their eyes. Eugene Sue was much struck by this token of feeling in one so young, bril liant and gay. When the young fashion able left, he followed, determined lo as certain’ his residence,’ and after much trouble saw him enter a carriage near the Place Vendome, and drive to the Chaus- se d’Anlin. Sue followed, saw tho stran ger enter the Hotel of thp Due de R . He ^waited for an hour tor bis re-appear- unce, and at hist saw a beautiful young lady of high rank come out of (he hotel and enter her carriage. In that lady S-te recognized, not only the handsome dandy, but the Princess d’Orlenns, one df the daughters of Louis Philippe! She had visited the poor widow in disguise, dres sed in a white sack of peculiar make— the same in which she tried to rescue Louis Napoleon at Ham, some months ago. • ceed I r Had been - erected all'a- Jame,_to receive, carriages, the ices Who ivere. JD prq- ORIENTAL MAXIMS. He who has not bis'hand open has his heart shut. SllUt* VFU lllo lull UUUlk Ul U|D n} UHSpiS) i urn# ’ a „l- _ . .' sat down with his army, composed of 40,- cheer " hen y° ar enemies (H)0 foot, 6,000 horse, 420 war chariots, and are divided among themselves, 1 but fear m«r»rhi.n onn mi.- r „r lep they are uniledand of one accord. What is easily acquired does not long endure, Inlo whatsoever house you enter, re- main'raaster of your eyes anti your tongue. Why repent a second time of an action of Which we have already repented ? If you wish that your own merit should be recognized, recognize the mem of others. ever give counsel when it is not asked of you; especially to those whw are in capable of appreciating it. flow short life would be, if hope did not.give it extent! The body increases by slee£, the mind accumulates by watching. Do not shorten the long nights by slumber, nor prolong the short days by wickedness. The man that watches by night rejoi ces by day. vindicators, like Alexander, of minor wrongs the infliction of. wrongs tenfold greater. On the left bank of the Hydaspcs, Fonts The Cadiz, (Ohio) Sentinel, under the head of “ popular delusions of the day,” lays down the following incontrovertible axioms, whjch it would be well to study in other Stales and localities: It is a great mistake that the picture pro missory notes of corporations are money.- 'It is a sad error that bank notes add to the wealth of a Stale. It is a foolish idea that it is moral and right for bankers to receive interest on their debts, while individuals pay interest on theirs. It is absurd in the extreme that gold and silver impoverish a nation. It is all moonshine that banks make wheat and corn grow, and regulate the weather. It is all humbug that paper banks are better than banks of earth, sand banks or- oysier-banks. It is ridiculous nonsense that a protec tive tariff is of the least benefit lo the far mers of Ohio.. It is a wholesale falsehood that it is the exporter of foreign goods, and not the con sumer, who pays the duty. U is palpably dishoncs't to tell a labor ing mnn that it is his interest to give one half of his earnings lo Massachusetts man ufacturers. It is villainous to claim that government should tax one portion of its citizens for (he benefit of another. more than 200 elephants. The force of Alexander—like that of the Army of Eng land in the late battle—wasjargely native, but with European basis and core ; besides his Macedonians and other Greeks, he had the best cavalry of Asia, from Bachtria, Scythia,-Sogdia, &c., and a considerable force of native infantry. His main army, however, was cavalry. Not daring lo cross the river in front of so formidable an army, and especially drea ding the effect of the elephants upon his cavalry—Alexander,' by favor of a dark and stormy night and of an island happily interposed between the banks of the river, above the position of the enemy, and which had the advantage of at once concealing and facilitating the attempt of the Greeks —threw 5,000 horse and os many foot a- cross the river, and leading them in person turned the flank of Porus’s army and ut terly defeated it With great slaughter to the Indians—making the barbarian king a prisoner, and himself losing—differing there, in much from the English battles—only 80 foot soldiers and 220 horse. A new city called' Nikea, built on the spot ofthe battle, commemorated the vic tory—and another called Qucephala be came the monument of Bucepalus, wound ed in the passage of the Hydaspes, and who died there. Porus brought before Alexander and in terrogated how lie expected to be treated, answered, “like a king.” He was not disappointed, for Alexander made him a friend and ally, and greatly increased his dominions. The fame of such generosity, united lo such valor—opened the hearts of the Indian nations of the Punjaub to him. He was every where submitted to and wel comed—and having organized a naval ex pedition to descend the Indus 1000 miles INDIAN COMPLIMENTS. S** All Bahadur, to- evince his determina; tion not to relinguish the siogfe until the capture of the.fortress caused a house to be built near the fort for, his-yesidence, The Kiladar, not to be surpassed in bra vado, sent him a present of some mango- seeds to sow in the garden to be attached to the new edifice, with an intimation that he might hope-to fake Kalinjar, when the seeds should have grown lo trees, and the trees should have bom fruit.. The Inlan der had the best of the joke, for AlLBa- hadur died before the place, and in tho second year of the siege. which was. perfectly, appreciated by all resent,-produced an indescribable effect. _ 'apoteonilheji, taking the crown of the Empress; approached Josephine, as. she knelt before nim, and placed it, THE FLOWERS AND THE COFFIN. Last week 1 was at a funeral. Two rooms were filled with friends, who hud t ome to attend the burial of a little girl. Her hotly lay in a coffin, on a marble ta ble in the middle of the parlor. Her sweet lips wete closed, and her pale hands folded over her bosom were as cold as the marble. By the side of the coffin was a silver cup, such as children use, and in it. was a hunch ofIresh flotfers. 1 daresay it was Etnilv’s cup. Whenever her father and mother look at it, they will always think of their child, who used to drink out of it. ■ . It made me sorrowful to see these sweet tloweis by the side of a corpse.— They were lieautiful, but’ they were sad. Emily was like these flowers. She grew up, and was as promising and as lovely as they. Now she is cut down and with ered. . In a lew hours the flowers will be dead also. But here is the'difference. The flowers wilj never bloom again: They are gone for ever.. But Emily is not gone for ever. That little body will live again. Christ takes.care of it in the grave. 1 saw it- put into the deep,' dark cold vault; Christ was buried in the same way in the.sepulchre. Bathe rose again, and that is. a sign that Emily will rise again too.- As surely as Jesus rose, so surely will be raise this dear little onel When the flowers die, all is oyer With them. All their gay colors, all their sweet perfumes are lost. Bu- it is hot all ov«*r with Emily : her. soul is not 'lost. *-It is with Christ. - It is better to be with him, than to he-with U3.-Thes.iul shall be join ed to the body at the resurrection. '.Then sojul.and -. body will be happy together |to alLeternily. Tbis is what I thought,-on' looking at the silver .cup add flowers,-be side .the"coffin■ ■■-, * ..." ... . .. -... met pi ble tenderness, upon-tin with yisi- I , e head of ltie part ner of bis -fortunes; who at that mome.nr burst into tears; - This done, lie proceed ed towards the grand throne.-' He as cended iti followed; by his brothers,' hear ing the train of his robe's. T.b pn . the Po| t _ .. . _ . ... f) ) P e i . basilic’k. The Arch- nccrihling'trrcnstpm, advanced to the foot bishopric, adorned, with a luxury .worihyjdf the throne, to bless Jhe fiew sovereign, ofthe. priests It was to shelter, was' nri-jand jto-chant-those words which greeted ‘There are people,’ continued the cor poral, ‘who can’t even- breathe without slandering a neighbor.’ ‘You judge too severely,’ replied my aunt Prudy. ‘No one is slandered who does not deserves it.’ ‘That may he’ retorted the corporal, ‘hut 1 have heard very slight things said of you. The face of my aunt kindled with an ger. ‘Me"—she exclaimed. ‘Me! slight things of me! What can any body say of me?' They say,’ answered the corporal g(t(yely, and drawing his words to keep my aunt in suspense, ‘that you are no bel ter than you ought to he.’ - Fury flashing through the eyes of my aunt.—‘Who-are the wretches?’ I hope they slander no one who does not deserve it, ‘remarked the corporal jeeringly as he left the room. The feedings of my aunt my well be conceived. She was sensibly, effected- True, she had foibles. She was peevish ane fretful. But wns rigidly moral and virtuous. . The purest ice was riot more chaste. The Pope:himselfcould not boast morer piety. Conscious of the correct ness other conduct, she was wounded at the remark of the corporal.' Why should her neighbors slander her? She 'could not conjecture. Let my aunt he consoled. A person who can five in this world, without suf fering slander must be too stupid or in significant to claim attention.— Tristans Shandy. .. flow-delicious that conversation- is, which is accompanied with a mutual con fidence, freedom', coyrtesy, and compla cence ! * How calm .the mind,' how troth-; posed the.affections, how serene the coun tenance, how melodious the voice-, how sweet the. sleep, how contentful the whole life, of hitn. 1-bat neither deyiseth mischief against’others, nor suspecls any' to be contrivedagainst him. .. ' to the Sea, and lo proceed through the Per- '■ ' * Euphrates sian Gulf to the mouth of tho and ascend it (the famous voyage of Ncar- chus)—he continued his march through the Punj unjaub, aiming, ns he professed, to reach the Ganges. But when the army came to the banks of the Hyphasis, they refused to cross it and enter upon a region of unknown extent and endless conflicts. In vain did Alexander argue, implore, en treat and promise. “ Follow me,” said he, “but to tne Ganges and the Indian Ocean, while our fleet shall circumnavigate Afri ca—and then the bounds of our empire will be those which God has made tiie bounds of the earth The Greeks wereimniovable,the thoughts and longings of home had come over them. They resolutely refused to cross the Hv- * '.It • '* •THE". BATTLE OF MOOPKEE. The very river Sutlej on the banks of which occurred the bloody, fight between the English and the Sikhs, of w.bicb .we have just received the intelligence—is the Hyphasis which proved the boundary of Alexander’s conquests, and beyond which his army would.nol follow him. The easy victories and profuse and pre cious spoils, which in thesofterand sunnier plains of-Persia or Western' Asia, had re, warded the valor and satisfied the avarice of the Greek soldiers—had indisposed them to fiercer, conflicts unredeemed by.captur ed treasures—which awaited them among the hardier and poorer tribes of Northern Initial- Yet for a time, and'while there 'seemed some definite limit to the ambition of their, leader, they followed Alexander without murmuring,-even to the foot of the phasis—and Alexander, after erecling al tars on its hank to commemorate his pro gress thus far East, wept that he could conquer np other world—and turned his march homeward. In Ibis case as in all like ones—our sym pathies are with those who defend tneir own homes and the rivers and mountains which God has assigned to them—and whether it bo Abd-el-Kader in Africa, pr warriors of northern India—we feel that victory should be with them That such will be the result may be possible in both cases. As to Algeria, it lias cost France millions of treasure arid tens of thousands of lives, and yeflhe great Arab chief is as little subdued as at the beginning. So though the field ot -battle ana the trophies of Moodkee remained with the British, it is far front certain that the victory is final and decisive. A passing glance at the relative means and numbers of the contending parties will shew this. According to tire latest authorities upon which we have been able to lay our hands the total number of-European troops in all India is about 30,000, of whom 20,000 are of the tegulary army, and the residue re cruited in Great Britain fot Company’s ser vice. This European force is distributed throughout the vastpossessions, insular and continental, of the East India Company. The native troops in the service of the Company, amount, it is believed, to some thing lik.e one hundred and fifty thousand men. These are composed indiscriminate ly of Hindoos and Musselinans—mixed up in the same regiments; and under the commands, as to Company officers of their own peodfc—though superior commands arc woolly in Europeans, to such an exle.nt that the youngest ensign of the British ar my takes the rank of tne oldest Native of ficer. -. . The'Native troops are brave and faith ful. It is a point of honorwith. Native ar tillerymen, never to desert their guns. The Cavalry are quite as. ad venturous ns, aqd much better nders than, the European Cav- Himalayas On’ ihe e banks of the Hydaspes—the northern tributary rof ihe'-'Indus—the Ma cedonians. encountered the great king .of Porus, who reigned over'the ■ region south of that river, arid whose ambition was drea-- de'd by a lithe Indians dwelling ori Us north ern bank, and between it and the Indus.— These eagerly hailed the' approach of A- lexander as a protector against the tyran ny—real Or apprehended,—of Portts—-just ns England at this day makes battle now agamst the Aflgriaris, and now .against the Sikhs—tp avenge sotrie real or supposed' wrongs to some - native tribes or princes—' airy, and take better care of their horses. Tr — "aim The army of Runjet Singh,! he chief of. the Sikhs, was computed by the British authorities some flaw years ago at73,00()— 1 of which more than one half were civalry hey have also a numerous- artillery— as was made manifest in the late conflict: : When it is considered that the region of this contest is far away from supplies—that it is strong in natural features for defence —that it is inhabited by a brave and war- like race, and rhat the .sympathies of all northern India-must be With the - Sikhs— dnd when-both Russia and France- may possibly see their interest in permitting men to be furnished that may prolong awar so costly and .perilous to English, supremacy Correspondence of the New York Herald. Washington, April 7, 1S46. Mr. Webster, on concluding his speech upon the Ashburton treaty to-day, got upon stilts, and tried to overstretch s’otno Senators and members of the House of Representatives, for calling in qnestion the policy, or.purity of the motives which led to its consummation.. Like Sergeant Dalgetty, he took his own cause in band, and cut all the capers of the broad sword exercise, as far as a scolding tongue could do it, over the heads of Senators Dix and Dickinson, and Mr. Charles Ihgersoll of the other house.' Mr. Webster is generally of a phleg matic temperament; but in his remarks to-driy, be showed that he possesses a portion of the Hotspur energy of the most ardent in that body. Mr. Websfer ; lias arrived at that time of life, when he ought to keep cool, and not allow his feel ings to get the better of his judgment. The whole speech may be considered as a piece of self-glorification, for which i| has very little-glory to rest upon for its support. A case in point—and a strong one, too—I will mention. Mr. Webster read a letter to himself, from Mr. Whea ton, our minister at the court of Prussia, in which the defeat of the quintuple trea ty is attributed to the success of the Ash burton treaty. This is an error of so glar ing a kind, that I should consider it crim inal to the credit of Gen. Cass if I were not to notice it here. The quinltcple treaty was defeated several rhonths before the Ash burton treaty was signed, ap anachronism into which I did not suppose that either Mr. Webster or Mr. Wheaton would have . suffered themselves to fall. Yet such, is the fact, as can be shown by the records of the State department. .But I shall either let Mr. Webster remain where he is or hand him over to the merciful dispo sition of those whom he has assailed to day. The latter course is the best. ' One word more of Mr. Benton.’ In his speech upon the Oregon question, last week, he quoted the lines upon a map» which, he said, was D’Anvile’s, the French geographer, in proof that England had some rights in the territory-north of the 49th parallel. This quotation has led to some investigation, which has demon strated, beyond a doubt, that the map which the Colonel quoted as D’Aniville’s, was not his at all, but Bolton’s, an Eng lishman, and published several years later with sundry improvements and additions in favor of his owe country. Robert Greenhow, Librarian of the Stale Depart ment, has proved this conclusively, and to the satislaetion of evety one. Indeed, Mr. Benton himself now admits it to, have been so. Then I ask in the name ofcom- nton sense, why should a Senator of Mr. Benton’s standing assert onei thing Tor another, which his own speech makes him do? It is clear that'a change has come over him since he eulogized Sena tor Dix for the speech which he made- upon the same subject. Mr. Benton then said that the Senator from. New York bad anticipated all that he had to say on the subject, and most ably and eloquently it was done. Now, we know that Mr. Dix’s speech was one of the ablest delivered in the Senate this, session, and showed be yond ajl doubt or cavil, from, the most ’ authentic records and historical data, that . England had no claims lo the territory north of 49, either by discovery or the pro visions ofthe Nootka Sound Convention; and it Col. Benton concurred in Mr. Dix’s views of her pretensions then, how comes r n°- 1 i assails that position and ,a !|f 1,1,0 t,,e ranks of tho'se who are only wtlling to go for 49 r. To those who ,are 'h e -political movements here, the difficulty oi solving this riddle iseasy- ", enough* • • * . •. •. - - * I have been aware, for several, months pasL of a combination of antagonistic ele ments in the Senate, whose purpose it is’, t0 n 1 , 18 * 1 ,® cn - Cass. TteS.trtllh may as- ninv - aa at a»y other time. Inis has been the. maitr arid chief motive * or every element-of opposition that Has been brought 'into play npon-iltis subject the'friends ofGen.i t guns ■ Moodkce-^and the vote of thanks in Cass wifi run him- as a candidate for the Presidency, ift 1848,-does riot" ' ' ^ doubt;.and so Jong as he. hi ry of .popular side upon , the ---,=5.-7 , - ;- FMrlwithf En * liamerit to the Conquerors, thnt'the worki‘ t h e 'Prest is decisive or complete.’ The next-accounts j t0Q from 'India c'arinot fail- to be. looked for I' ! ,,u s„,™s, - v v. r U- the question with great interest.—N. I’.-. Courrler. Erports of Flour, l(c.—The export* of from Baltimore from Sept. 1, to March.30, - I .jrajwfipifd’. a period of 7 months, was 81,816 barrels, to be diverting,

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The Albany patriot. (Albany, Ga.) 1845-1866, April 29, 1846, Image 1