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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