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The Muscogee Democrat,
AND MERCANTILE ADVERTISER.
By Andrews Ac Griswold.
Comer of Randolph and Broad streets, (up-stairs,")
COLUMBUS, Ga.
TERMS.
THREE DOLLARS per annum —in advance.
Two copies for $5, “ <*
Ten copies for S2O “ ••
Two dollars for six months. “
tCT All Letters must bt free of postage, except where
money is enclosed.
Vol. 111.
_ •
[From the Star ami Democrat.J 1 4
THE REFORMED HUSBAND. ‘ -
.“And so dinner is not ready yet,” said Mr.
Canfield to his wife, in no very%entle tones,
“I don t see for my part what women have to
do so. very much, that they cannot have their
ready, in season.- •Onty~to fPfi and*clean
off the table three times a day! My mother al
ways was punctual to the very miiutte in having
her breakfast, dinner and supper.”
“ And I would gladly be punctual, too,” said (
Mrs. Canfield, and her voice was slightly tremu
lous as she spoke, “butyou know, William,that
I have not had the experience which your mother
had in housekeeping, and besides, .she might not
have been quite as punctual and Regular in her
affairs, when you and your brothers were very
young. To-day, if little Mary had not been un
well and cross, your dinner would have been on
the table.” ***, *v -jja ‘
The dinacy, however, was soon ready, and
even then, Mr. Canfksjd looked round upon the
table so neatly ..arranged and his food so.nicely
cooked, with a half sullen itaH*dissatisfies sort of
an air, and partook of it.in a hasty, contemptu
ous sort,of a manner, iVtiioh showed that he pos
sessed a fault-finding, uneasy disposition. ■
The above convisrsatio 1 on the’ part of Mr.
Canfield was but a prelude to every ipeal of
which he partook. Ho invariably .iiltroduced
his mother’s example in evqry department of
housekeeping, and if his wile look the utmost
pains to prepare and cooh-his food, still it was
not quite right; there was a something lacking
about it, for it was either too salt, or too fresh,
too moist, or too dry, too hot or too cold. And
then his coffee, though it was always excellent,
was cither too strong, or else he pronounced it
“dish water.” Os one thing, his wife, gentle,
sensitive and loving as she was, was assured
that he would not be satisfied with her cookery,
and although for several years she had heard the
same complaints from her husband relative to
the time, quantity and quality of his meals, still
. they had not assumed an agreeable aspect to her
mind, but were a source of trouble and grief to
her. His collars and bosoms, too, were never
done up right. To his mind, they were either
#ll starch or no starch, so very stiff that they al
mas! cut his throat, or else, exactly the reverse,
la vain his wife tried to get them to suit him ;
that seemed a thing entirely nut of the question. \
. fcrcqueiMlpr tdkehr *M*tgr “%i! -fterr~ powers to’
please him, she was doomed to severe disappoint,
went. Not that Mr. Canfield was really aware !
how much he embittered his wife’s existence:!
oh no; he had got into the habit of fault-finding
so imperceptibly, that he was not aware of so i
doing. So much for the power of habit.
Oh! how little does the husband often realize j
that the happiness or misery of his wife, depends j
almost entirely upon him. For his sake, she j
has left a father’s and mother’s affection, the
pure and gushing love of brothers and sisters,
and the home of her youth, endeared by a thous
and nameless ties and associations. Her whole
world is centered in him; and she looks to him
for kindness and sympathy, for love unalterable.
His theatre of action is amongst the bustle and
commerce of the world: hers, in her home; and
then, if she meets not a proper return for her af
fectionate devotion, life is, indeed, overshadowed
and cheerless!
Mr. William Canfield was a young man in
moderate circumstances, but in a prosperous bu
siness, keeping store in a thriving village, situa
ted in a beautiful section of New England. He ‘<
had been married several years to a very amiable
and lovely young lady. Catharine Ensign was
an orphan, brought up tenderly by an aunt, her 1
only known relative, and her lonely and depen
dent situation had early taught her to exercise
her own resources of mind and body, and had
given her an energy and a patience, and willing- I
ness to endure, which might not have been hers
in a more prosperous condition, surrounded by
many loving friends and her wishes anticipated
by all. She possessed, likewise, despite her en
ergy, a sensitiveness, which could not bear even
the shadow of blame. Her aunt, a worthy, ex
ccllcnt woman, did all she could for Catharine,
•>ut as she was poor, having been left at the death j
of her husband with only her little home to shcl-j
ter her and a small garden to cultivate, she was
obliged to work very diligently with her hands
for her support; and yet when* her sister’s only
child was left an orphan, she considered it her
sacred duty to become a mother to the little one,
especially as death had deprived her of her own
children. At the early age of seven, she was
taken by her aunt, Mrs. Osborn, and instructed
as she grew older, and her capacities enlarged,
in every branch of domestic work, which was
comprehended very readily, and Catharine soon
became an adept in house-work, as well as in
the use of the needle, by which she and her aunt
supported themselves comfortably, if not c!e
gantly.
Neither was Catharine’s mind neglected, for
Mrs. Osborn was a well educated woman, and
after she returned from the v,llage school, her
aunt delighted, as they sat at work, to explain her
lesson to her, and well was she repaid lor it, in
the expansion and improvement of her niece’s
mind. Mrs. Osborn had a small but well chosen
library, and after the labors of the day were over
she read to Catharine, and thus a taste was
formed in her young mind for books, which was
a great consolation and pleasure to her. In
fact, she had no relish for any other amusement,
except as she took her daily pleasant walks, and
experienced such heartfelt pleasure in listeniug
to the bird-songs, or in gathering the sweet sim
ple flowers.
1 hus she grew up lovely in mind and in per
son, and a blessing to the declining days of her
aunt.. True, she had to exert herself very much
to gain a livelihood, but she felt as she laid her
head on the pillow, that she was happy in doing
her duty, and the sweet dreams of innocence and
peace refreshed her nightly. Ah! then she felt
that her parents surely must be watching over
her, and it was a delicious ide. to nerve her to
renewed exertions.
liSGIIEE DEMOCRAT*
“AS LITTLE GOVERNMENT AS POSSIBLE J THAT LITTLE EMANATING FROM AND CONTROLLED BV THE PEOPLE, AND UNIFORM IN ITS APPLICATION TO Atlf
Mrs. Osborn-died when Catharine was about
j seventeen, and then she felt that her friends were
indeed all gone : yet she resolved to look upon
•life, not with gloomy, mournful thoughts, but to
keep on, in duty’s path, trusting in that Power
who “ teimpereth the wind to the shorn lamb.”
“Providence raised up kind friends for Her in the
minister ans his wife, who had long,admired her
gentle, -effihtti— a<g Wlihinrn 1 PWTOef ‘witVw
much patience andTtetemiination/ahd they offer
ed her a heme with them. Avery pleasant
home, too, was that old shaded parsonage, and
very kind and considerate were its proprietors.
The minister, Mr. Cranston, took great pains in
perfecting Catharine’s education, and at the ex
piration of a year under his tuition, she com
meneed a school in the village under favorable
circumstances. How happy was she then, as
she felt that now she was in a way to become
qseful to herself and others, and tha't she should
tifit be so entirely dependent. ‘ How delightful
was Her employment of expanding the young j
pliant,mind, of imparting useful information to
her eager, attentive, loving scholars. And when
the employment of the day was over, how quick
ly did she hasten home to dear Mrs. Cranston
to assist her all in her power by the labor of her
hands, and above all by the sweet tones of her !
voice. She seemed to them like a dear daugh
ter, so kind, attentive and affectionate was she
in all her intercourse with them.
Catharine had been engaged in her school
about two years, when a nephew of Mrs. Cran
ston, by the name of William Canfield came
therq on a visit, and with a view to establish
himself in merchandize in their village. He
soon erected a store and was quite prosperous
in his business. He was very much pleased
with Catharine, and she returned his affection
with all the fervor and devotion of a woman’s
first love. He proposed for her hand, which was
give’n with mingled joy and grief by her dear
second father, Mr. Cranston, who with his wife
was very much attached to Catharine. Howev
er, her view nice little home was not very far
from the parsonage, and they could see her daily.
And now, one would have thought, that at last
Catharine was firmly established in the house
hold ark of safety and peace, when she could
have looked back upon her early orphanage,
and her past laborious, though not unhappy life,
with a calm look, and glanced forward with hope
to ever renewing delight. She loved her hus
band, she was well employ
ments, anSWPTfgTifftl ItHtteTf^rformancc; she
had good economy, too, blended with a discrimi
nating liberality to the poor and afllicted, and
above all, she manifested a lively interest in her
husband’s affairs. Mr. Canfield, like his wife,
had a great love for books, and w-as constantly
making additions to his little library. And, cer
tainly, under his wife’s management, he could
never he shocked by confusion, dirt, or disorder
in his house, although, sometimes, she did not
get his food ready at the exact minute, owing to
various circumstances, over which she had no
control.
The little Mary was a charm to the hearts of
all, especially to the mother’s, for, as she looked
into the blue eyes of her child, she thought of her
own childhood and of her mother’s sweet voice,
aud she trusted, oh, how earnestly! that she
might live to watch over her youthful years.
Yes, every one thought that Mrs. Canfield was a
happy person. Happy she surely was, at times,
although the fault-finding propensities of her hus
band did disturb her mind very much, for it is a
hard thing to strive to the utmost to please those
we love the best, and not meet praises but
blame ; and as was remarked before, Catharine
was very sensitive about being blamed, although
she kept on with undiminished zeal in the path
of right. She never blamed her husband, or
complained of him, but Mrs. Cranston saw with
much pain, this trait in her nephew’s character,
| but she trusted to him, and the gentle influences
of his wife to shew him his ingratitude and his
error.
One afternoon, Mr. Canfield was taken very
sick, and came home, thinking he should not long
be confined to the house, hut he grew much
worse, and finally, after a tedious sickness, he
began slowly to recover. As he lay in his bed
room, where he could sec the light step of Cath
arine, who had watched over him so tenderly in
i his sickness, as she moved about doing the vari
ous sorts of work, which are so necessary to the
comfort and well-being of a family; how his
heart smote him for the past, for thinking that
woman’s work was nothing. He saw the ut
most system amid the multiplicity of his wife’s
cares and labors, and the greatest cheerfulness
and alacrity in their performance. In fact, he
had known nothing at all about woman’s work,
and he was very much surprised to see the vari
ous processes by which the washing was done,
which he had formerly considered a very trivial
affair. And getting victuals, which he once
thought, was “only setting and clearing off the
table three times a day,” seemed now as quite
an operation, especially as he watched Catha
rine while preparing bread, cake and pies for
the oven, and attending to their baking. He
had had no conception of what a woman really
performed, who “looked well to the ways of her
household.” He saw, too, how often she was
interrupted by attending to the little girl, and he
did not wonder that dinner had not always been
on the table at the precise moment.
Really, Mr. Canfield took an admirable lesson
thel-e in his sick room, and well did he improve
it when he was again able to attend to his busi
ness. He was not’ naturally an unreasonable
man, but the habit of fault-finding having once
gained entrance, increased rather than dimin
ished. And after his recovery Catharine had
reason to bless the sickness she so much at first
deplored.
And note, his food is always seasoned right, is
in appropriate quantities, and of excellent quali
ty. The time of eating, too, is just right exactly,
and the food is in a proper state, neither too hot,
nor too cold; too moist, nor too dry; too salt, nor
too fresh, but perfectly right. Now, “my mo
ther ” is but seldom quot^^^^jrecedenL
And Mrs. Qanficld
AND MERCANTILE ADVERTISER.
COMJMBUS, Georgia, Thursday Evening, June 10, 1§47.
did‘not reproach hey husband or give up to grief
entirely on account of bis fault-finding, and she
is more than rewarded for her perseverance.and
energy. Upon her countenance, irradiated bjt.
happiness and affection, is seen the innocent
playfSiness of youth, blended with that sweet and.
subduing influence of hope and patience, which
made .the orphaned days of her childhood so*
origin and trusting. In her calm, plentiful home,
blessed with thflHmnlight of her husband’s love
and approbation, she sighs not for wealth, or the
frivolities of the fashionable world, and she reali
zes how much happier is
“She that makes the humblest hearth,
• Happy but to one on earth,”
than the heartless devotee of pleasure, or the
unsatisfied seeker after fame and popularity.
How pleasant are the family gatherings, on
the sweet sunset of summer, amid the shades of
the old parsonage. How William praises his
Catharine to his dear old aunt, who can readiiy
believe every thing excellent and noble of her,
and how feelingly lie speaks of his former ingrat
itude to her, and of her angeiic forbearance to
wards him; while Mr. Cranston and Catharine
are in vain trying to keep up with the frolicksome
| Mary. And now we will take leave of them,
with the simple remark that content and happi
ness abide in their habitation, and refined “Intel- .
lectual feelings predominate in their hearts : ‘
that the greatest amount of real happiness is in !
the middle walks of life,-where, without the stn ‘
vings and laboring*, for a scanty subsistence, i
which weigh down the spirits of the poor to the I
dust; they can turn without a sigh from the J
thorns, cares and anxieties which encompass the
path df the wealthy", who often are more to be
pitied than envied. Louisa.
Millington, Conn., May, 1817.
Inextinguishable Fire. —The Washington
correspondent of the Baltimore Clipper writes
that during the last session of Congress, an ap
propriation was made to enable Mr. Uriah
Brown to test the merits of a fire of which
he is the inventor, designed as an instrument
of war. Mr. Brown is now in Washington,
making the neccessary arrangements fora trial
before the ordnance and other officers of the
Government.
The correspondent remarks :
‘We know nothing of the article further than
the Hon. Jacob Johnson said in the House of
RepresertrtfTt’ves, fbatdt was something like “the
Greek dire. History informs us that the Greek
fire was made principally of naptha, or liquid
bitumen, mixed with sulphur and pitch, extract
ed from green firs. Water, instead of extin
guishing, quickened this powerful agent of de
struction. It could be damped only by sand,
wine or vinegar. It was a period of four hun
dred years before the secret of its composition
was obtained from the Greeks*, The Mahome
tans at length discovered and stole it. It con
tinued to be used in war down to the middle of
the fourteenth century, when gunpowdei was
introduced. As to applicability of Mr. Brown’s
invention, wc have only to say that our present
means of destruction are ample in Mexico, as
the victories of our troops have demonstrated.
His liquid fire, we think, would be more effi
cient in the conflagration of vessels than of
cites.’
Proposal of Sir John Ross to reach the
North Pole. —The following is an extract of
a letter from Capt. Sir John Ross, r. n. to and ipt.
W. H. Smyth, u. n., President of the Royal As
tronomical Society, London :
“ Sir : 1 beg leave to submit the following
plan and proposal to the President and Council
of the Royal Astronomical Society, for their
consideration. The measurement of an arc of
the meridian has been a long a great desidera
tum, and the failure of every attempt that has
been made at Spitzbergen for this desirable ob
ject, as well as of the attempt made to reach the
North Pole, has been because the summer has
been selected for that purpose, whereas, the
spring should have'been the season chosen, viz.
the months of April and May for both services,
but which could not be put in execution by the
means hitherto adopted. I have now to inform j
the President and Council of the Royal Astro- \
nomical Society that I have submitted a plan to j
the Admiralty for carrying into execution these I
double and desirable objects, by wintering at j
Spitzbergen, and employing my officers and
crew under the direction of the talented son of j
the celebrated Professor Schumacher, w-Hom I j
| have engaged for this purpose ; while, at the
| proper season it is my intention to attempt to j
j reach the North Pole on sledges drawn by Swe- j
| dish horses, being a modification of the plan j
proposed by Mr. Scoresby, and of which that i
highly talented and well-inlbrmcd individual has
given his unqualified approbation. And, from
| the year’s experience I have had in Sweden in
| that mode of travelling, I can safely assert that
’ there is no other officer in the navy that pos
* sesses those advantages so necessary to com
i plete success in a greater degree, and for this
I purpose I make this statement in the hope that
when duly considered by the President and j
Council ot the Royal Astronomical Society, they ;
will be pleased to signify to me their opinion on !
the importance of the objects in question, and
such a recommendation for its being put into \
execution as they may think fit.’
‘Rough and Ready’ Bonnets. —The mil
liners ot New Y’ork have brought out anew
style of bonnet, called “ Rough and Ready ”
they are represented to beat the famous “ kiss
me-quicks.”
A Forced Loan. —A young lady of Boston
whoso trunk was broken open, and robbed of
SB4, has received a note from the anonymous
thief, stating that the money was only taken as
a loan, and will bo repaid, with five per cent,
interest.
t THE LOCOMOTIVE.
.There is a fearful power in the “Iron Horse ”
ofl.ie Railway—a swift, hard, resistless energy, I
-which is the best type of the iron age of puffing j
‘aid progress. ‘The steam ryonster so like a liv- !
frealure, and yet but a ghastly caricature of
is thus delineated by Dickens in the latest
-•••£j£>er w* Domby and Son. .Uyld fast by the
twang and read:
“ Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rat
tle, .roni the town, burrowing among the dwel- i
of man, and making the streets hum, flash
ing out into the meadows for a moment, mining
in Brough the damp earth, beeniing on in dark
ness'and heavy air, bursting out again into the
sunny day so bright and wide: away, with a!
shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, through the
fields, through the woods, through the corn,
through the hay, through the chalk, through the
mould, through the clay, through the rock, among
objects close at hand and almost in the grasp,
ever flying from the traveler, and a deceitful dis
tance ever moving slowly with him ; like, as the
track of the remorseless monster, Death!
“Through the hollow, on the height, by the
hearth, by the orchard, by the park, by the gar
den, over the canal, across the river, where the !
sheep are feeding, where the mill is going, I
.where the barge is floating, where the dead are
lying* where the factory is smoking, where the
stream is running, where the village clusters,
>her§ the great cathedral rises, where the bleak
moor lies and the wild breeze smoothes or ruffles
it at its inconsistent will: away with a shriek,
and a roar, and a rattle, and no trace to leave
behind but dust and vapor, like as in the track of
the remorseless monster, Death !
“Breasting the wind and light, the shower
and sunshine, away, and still away, it rolls and
roars fierce and rapid, smooth and certain, and
great works and massive bridges crossing up
above, fall like a beam of shadow an inch broad
upon the eye and then are lost. Away and still
away, onward and onward ever; glimpses of
cottage homes, of houses, mansions, rich estates,
of husbandry and handicraft, of people, of old
roads and paths that looked deserted, small and
insignificant as they are left behind ; and so they
do, and what else is there but such glimpses in
the track of the, indomitable monster, Death ?
“ Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, I
plunging down into the earth again, and working j
on in such-a storm of energy and perseverance,
that tfttStpUrtJ Ui*rKyWs and whirl"ind tlmyrnotlon
scums reversed,*anld to tend furiously backward,
until a ray of‘light upon the wet wall shows its
surface flying past like a fierce stream. And
once more into the day, and through the day,
with a shrill of exultation, roaring and rattling,
and tearing on, spurning every thing with its
dark breath, sometimes pausing for a minute j
where a crowd of faces are, that in a minute j
more arc not, sometimes lapping water greedily,
and before the spout at which it drinks has ceas
ed to drip upon tiie ground, shrieking, roaring,
rattling, in the purple distance!
“Louder and louder yet, it shrieks and cries
as it conies tearing resistless to the goal; and i
now its way, still like the way of death, is strewn
with ashes thickly. Everything around is black
ened. There are dark pools of water, muddy
lanes, and miserable habitations far below.—
There are jagged walls and falling houses close
at hand, and through the battered roofs and bro
ken windows, wretched rooms are seen, where j
want and fever hide themselves in many wretch
ed shapes, “bile smoke, and crowded gables,
and distorted chimneys, and deformity of bricks
and mortar penning up deformity of mind and
body ; choke the murky distance. As Mr. Dom- !
by looks out of the carriage window, it is never •
in his thoughts that the monster who has brought
him there has let the light of day in on these I
things; not made or caused them. It was the !
journey’s fitting end of everything; it was so ru-!
inous and dreary.”
AN ELECTRIC CLOCK.
Amongst the inventions in these days of pro
gress, we have recorded recently the remarkable
novelty of an electric clock —an invention ema
nating from conny Scotland and certainly a most
ingenious instrument. The London Universe
gives the annexed description of its fashion and
contrivance : *
The clock is enclosed in a neat oak case,
about four and a half feet in height, and one foot
(i)ur inches wide. Its face is of ample dimen
sions, very plain in appearance, and is furnished
with second, minute, and hour hands, in all re
spects similar to those of the usual construction.
The pendulum is the same length as that of the
ordinary old fashioned eight day clocks. Here,
however, analogy ceases. 0 It is true, there are
some wheels and pinions to move the hands,
and afford accurate indications of the divisions
and progress of time hut these are few in num
ber, and do their work in a manner totally differ
ent from those in other kinds of clocks. The
! electric clock has neither weight nor spring, nor
! power of any other kind, within itself, to keep it
i in motion, and it therefore never requires wind
ing up.
Whence, then, does the electric clock derive
its power of continuous motion ? Wait a little—
we will try to cxp’ain it.
There are two very small copper wires fixed
in the angles of the clock case, w hich communi
! cate with smaller wires at the back of the pen
| dulum bar, and are thence continued to a coil
I of the same kind of w'ire enclosed in a circular
brass box, w hich box constitutes what is usually
; termed the bob of the pendulum. The box be
ing hollow, in the direction of its axis, the cavity
thus formed admits of the insertion of two sets of
permanent magnets, whose similar poles are
placed near to, but not in contact with, each oth
er. These magnets are kept in their places by
being enclosed in brass boxes secured to the
sides of the clock case. The pendulum is so
adjusted that'it has, of course, perfect freedom of
motion; whilst in its oscillations it passes alter
nately the poles of the magnet just mentioned.
Leaving- the clock for a few minutes, we now
observed two copper wires, the ends of which
arc in contact with those within the case. Con
tinuing their course along the wall, these wires
pass out of doors, descend btflew tliP
■ the earth, and, at a short distance from the
! are connected, the one with a, fear bosh els or.
! coke, and the other with five pi six plafi f dtj
j zinc. These materials are „bu ied lii a hoiOjinl
! the earth, about lour feet ftgtque- anti ftoeSrah-J
deep, the coke being placed
ala per oft a*th %bove ik and
are hud thereon, ardjtbe Whole
; forming a gal van ic*T>attdfy.
j tire power which imparts'motion to the clock ; a
! current of electricity being induced by the coke
and zinc, which, although of low intensity, is un
! limited as to quantity, the source whence it is
: derived beiug the earth itself. The pendulum
I being set in motion and the current of electricity
through the wires established, a beautiful ar
rangement of simple mechanism immediately
comes into operation, by means of which the
circuit is broken and renewed at each alternate
oscillation. Thus by the skill of the* inventor,
the combined agencies of galvano-electricity,
electro-mognetisin and pennant magnetism are i
made to produce an uniform and, so to speak,;
perpetual motion of the pendulum; and we ob-
I fain a time measurer of such extraordinary ac- j
j curacy, that we believe it will bear comparison, j
’ in this respect, with the best constructed chro- J
nometer.
If it be desired to have other clocks in differ- 1
ent parts of the house, that we have been de-1
scribing requires only to be connected w ith them j
by a copper wire, and the circuit completed to i
the battery ; and they will all be kept going by j
the motion of one pendulum, and record exactly j
the same time. So also the public clocks in a \
town, could by similar means, be made to syn- j
chronise.
Such is the electric clock, invented by Mr. i
Alexander Bain, of Edinburgh—a gentleman !
deservedly known in the scientific world.
[From the New London Democrat.]
ENTERPRISE.
The result of enterprise may bo witnessed in I
the career of P. T. Barncm, Esq. of the New i
York Museum. And his case shows abundantly I
what individuals and society may become, <by j
putting forth the energies inherent in mankind.;
It is well known that on his own persevering
energies, and untiring industry aloiieJL. Bar- ‘
! num hat risen .
11111 ■ ii
his perseyerirur sji ry
benefit of himself, but many others. In fact,!
every thing he touches, under the influence of
his perseverance, seems like the philosopher’s
stone, to have the power to transmute the baser J
metals into gold.
By his discreet and judicious management, j
j and indomitable energy, Mr. B- has taken a
miniature specimen of humanity., which, under I
ordinary circumstances, would scarcely have!
awakened higher curiosity than any undersized j
person, and by it he has in a short time, not only j
amassed a fortune for himself, but has made the !
parents ol Tom Thumb immensely rich. But;
j like one who knew what he was about, Mr. B. j
did not content himself merely with the exhibi
tion ol the “ General,” although it led him to
the Palaces of Kings and Princes. But his eyes ’
were in every direction in search of new objects ;
of public interest, and new means of developing ,
!an adventurous and perseveiing spirit; and he ;
; has recently sent home to the New York Muse- I
um, of which he is proprietor, a scenic, or pano-!
ramie representation of the moving funeral pro- 1
| cession of the mighty Napoleon, as his remains j
| were conveyed from St. Helena to France, the i
! theatre ol his wonderful elevation and overthrow, j
| This has been procured at a cost which would I
j have thrown a less persevering spirit back—but
i Barnum foresaw the interest it must of necessity
! excite, and wc have not a shadow of doubt, that I
j from it he will coin wealth like a mint. We;
have been led to pen this article from having re- j
cently visited the Museum, where we witnessed I
| this grand and imposing spectacle.
The canvass upon which it is exhibited, is not
so large as some others, but it is said to surpass
in grandeur anything of the kind ever presented
to the public. The sea scene all the way from
St. Helena to the coast of France, is grand and
beautiful. The ships, furling and unfurling their
sails—the flash and peal the guns, as the body
| is conveyed from the Island to the barque, and
| from the barque, on its arrival in the harbor, to
! the steambot, are a most perfect illusion. The
| representation embraces five thousand figures,
including the persons, ships, steamers, process
ions ot carriages, horsemen, foot soldiers and
citizens. They are all exhibited in motion, ex- j
cept a line of toot guards, which extends all the i
way lrom the landing in France, to the place of
interment, at the “Hospital of Invalides,” where, j
when the splendid funeral car arrives, which is
drawn by. sixteen coal-black horses, Covered in
cloth of gold and nodding white waving plumes
upon their heads—the body is borne to its rest
ing place on the shoulders of men, under the
moaning boom of minute guns. Atlcr this, the
interior of the hospital is represented in surpass
ing magnificence, as it was illuminated in honor
of the occasion ; and finally the whole represen- i
ration closes, with the grand Apothesis or Ueifi- j
cation oPNapoleon— when he is seen from the j
back of the picture, borne, as it w ere, ton a cloud ;
of incense to Heaven. The pen, how ever, cafi- •
not describe the grandeur of the spectacle. It!
must be seen to be appreciated ; yet we hesitate j
not the expression of the opinion, that us “a work
of scenic art, it stands unrivalled.
Such, then, in a single individual is the result f
of enterprise. And while with the pride of a j
New Englander, we remark, that Mr. Barnum
is one of the best and must elevated specimens
of the “ hire Yankee” that we wot of, we cun
j not refrain from expressing the conviction that
’ the community is fortunate, that has such indi
■j viduals in its midst.
I _
Theirs upon Paper Money and Specie.—
Theirs, in his history of the French Revolution,
remarks :—“Paper, however, sale is not like
money, a reality, according to Bailly’s expres
ion a physicia) actuality.’ SfecieJ^BLtsits
jjgf- jfeqjc
T ;\ ®y VnclrewnVk Griswold,
’ comer of Randolph and Brcaiypfnls, Qupstair
. > ptiDUnd
as BUI Heads, Post Bills, HtrndbjUs, Circofnrs
* Cards, Pamph’sts, Checks, Bills of •’fading, Bills
of Exchange;-Mivdte*,■ and every ’ . * ’
aXoiuKii in tV r,*srrt oftSHHu jiV, it. * i .'.ti, t
‘ own value •aloi;g > \vith it. off*’ thn'Wvri-’
jj requires enc roose opp’mtjt9 a realization
Jit must therefore Are specie, ,*nd's sou#
beil>vi?k, Ijionc'y JSjdrih ticwill giffc*
hoKjdcd. and \at ltfngtfc disappears.
?•<?[. ‘rousts in inoth-rute. issues -of pa-
K;piN
Suit* ‘the ‘
real value ceases, he who gives tha? cOnvefi’ •
tional money robs him who receives it, and a
great crisis ensues.”
- _ _ *
[rioni the Philadelphia Ledger.]
Brigadier General 1). E. Twiggfc
This distinguished officer is, I believe, a na-*i
th eof Georgia. When I saw him last summer
at Matamoras, Camargo, &c., he was apparent*
ly about 55 years of age, large in person, and
with a pair of mostachios so formidable that the
soldiers called him the “ Old War Hoss, with
| a grey mane.” One to look at him would al
j most fancy he could see on his forehead “fight.”
j If he glories in anything, it is a hard fought bat
| tie. On the Bth and 9th of May he commanded
I the right wing of the army, and in the battle of
1 the 9th especially, he showed himself not only a
| gallant and intrepied soldier, but also an efficient
| and skilful commander.
j For several hours he occupied a most exposed
; situation immediately alongside of Ridgley’ Ar
; tillery and was constantly mounting and dis- •
i mounting his horse to see the effect which Ridg
i ley’s shot produced. The enemy came so near*
to him that .lie cut at them with his sword seves-
I al times, and it is said that he cut one almost in
| two as he was in the act of throwing a lasso
! round Ridgley’s neck. He several times ex
i claimed to the men, “ Boys, Gen. Taylor sees
j you ” —“There, there, the General is looking
| right at us,” and lie worked up his men to such
; a pitch of enthusiasm that he afterwards declared
! that “every officer under him deserved to be an
i officer.” He possesses a warm heart and is
i greatly beloved by his officers and men.
He was deeply attached to poor Ridgley, and
j when that gallant young officer met with the ac
; cident which took him from his friends and lost
] him to his country forever, his General, the no
’ ble-hearted Twiggs, was constantly at his side,
and .never quitted it till h*<* brearising censed.’
He then gave vent to-the pent of his
: heart, and for several days his manly face was
| w t with tears of affliction. “ Poor Ridgley,”
|he sattl t n Capt. Stewart, “is now gone. He
: was the best sriijlerv officer I ever knew.”
j At the soigo of Monterey, although suffering
; severely from the Rio Grande dysentery, and
; forbidden by the surgeons to appear in the field,
j still he was at Gen. Taylor’s side during the tre
mendous attack on the south side of the town.
II have been informed, but will not vouch for the
I truth, that Gen. Taylor ordered him peremptori
|ly to his quarters. Twiggs begged the General
! to let him stay a little longer, to which “Old
| Zack ” consented. In a short time, however,
the order was repeated, and as Twiggs obeyed,
I he fell fainting from his horse on the ground. In
l an hour after he was again by the side of his
I General, and was heard to say that he “ would
; be hanged if he didn’t have another pop at them.”
It was Gen. Taylor’s intention to name him one
| of the Commissioners at Monterey, but his health
I would not permit it, and he was borne by some
j soldiers to his quarters, without being able to
! witness the ceremony of the capitulation.
} llis figure, like that of his distinguished Gcn
i eral, is rather ungainly. His features are rather
! harsh, and his bald head and Bis huge mostachios
i give him at times a comical expression. Mar
is his element, and I do not think that odds to
! any extent would deter him from a fight. If he
I can raise a fight he is bound to have one. In
this he differs, I should think, from Worth. Like
j Gen. Taylor, he “would fight the enemy, in
! whatever force.”
j Worth is so careful of his men that he must
| see a chance. In a word, I think that Twiggs
[ would have fought at Buena V ista had he been
iin command. Worth, I think, would not. Let
\me not be misunderstood. No one can think
i more highly than Ido of Jon. W orth. But he
thinks as much of a private as he does ol an offi
cer, and he never will expose a soldier without
necessity. I have, in another communication,
styled Taylor our Bluchcr, Worth our Massena.
Twiggs, 1 now propose to you as the Launes of
the American Army. I shall, in another num
ber, give you a few anecdotes of the American
Lanucs. E. F. R*******.
Translated from La Patria, New Orleans:
“Campeaciiy, 13th May, 1847.
j “My esteemed friend: It is now some days
| since the Yankees took possession of Laguna
j and Palizada, not allowing any ingress to or
! egress from Tabasco, and from this port no ves
sels are cleared by the custom house for those
points, except some provisions for Laguna. The
American commandant of this last named place
has published a decree ordering all vessels to de
part within 15 days, after which term the ports
! shall remain in a state of blockade—God and
they only know the object; but, indeed, it is
| quite an original idea, being themselves in full
i possession of these points, to thus blockade them
| selves.
“On the eoast there are sevrral American
vessels of war, for the attack of Tabasco, and
i for this purpose’ fhey only wait the arrival of
t Com. Perry, who is sufficiently irritated that it
Ihad not been taken at the first attempt; and
now, who knows whether they will be more sue
cessful, as the Tabasquenos have obstructed the
j river at the turn of Acach&pa and, as is said
j there, have a small fortress with four pieces of
j artillery to defend themselves to the last, and if
they should he unable to resist the Yankees,
they will retire to the interior to harrass them
with a bloody war.*’
A private letter of the latest date received in
, Mobile from a gentleman in the fleet offTabas
! co, says that resistance will be offered by the
- Tabasquenos. How formidable it will be is not
i stated,,- —Mobile Herald,
‘jtoVSl