the General's rank, for the morning being cold, he wore a surtout over his uniform. So soon as they discovered that he was a general officer, they shouted that they had got the rebel General, and cried, Call for quarters, you d-d rebel!' Mercer to the most undaunted courage united a quick and ardent temperament; he replied with indignation to his enemies, while their bayonets were at his bosom, that he deserved not the name of rebel; and, determining to die as he had lived, a true and honored soldier of liberty, lounged with his sword at the nearest man. They then bayonetted him, and left him for dead. whom Washington mourned as the worthy and brave General Mercer. "We shall give a single anecdote of the subject of the foregoing memoir, to show the pure and high minded principles that actuated the patriots and soldiers of the days of our country's first trial. "Virginia at first organized two regiments for the common cause. When it was determined to raise a third, there were numerous applications for commissions; and, these being mostly from men of fortune and family interest, there was scarcely an application for a rank less than a field officer. During the sitting of the House of Burgesses upon the important motion, a plain but soldierly-looking individual handed up to the speaker's chair a scrap of paper, on which was written Hugh Mercer will serve his adopted country and the cause of liberty in any rank or station to which he may be appointed.' This, from a veteran soldier, bred in European camps, and known to stand high in his confidence and esteem, was all-sufficient for a body of patriots and statesmen such as composed the Virginia House of Burgesses in the days of the Revolution. The appointment of Mercer to the command of the third Virginia regiment was carried instanter. "Upon the retreat of the enemy, the wounded General was conveyed to Clark's house, immediately adjoining the field of battle. The information that the commander-in-chief first received of the fall of his old companion in arms of the war of 1755, and beloved officer, was that he had expired under his numerous wounds; and it was not until the American army was in full march for Morristown that the chief was undeceived, the associate of Washington in the war of 1755, and learned, to his great gratification, that Mercer, though fearfully wounded, was yet alive. Upon the first halt, at Somerset court-house, Washington despatched the late Major George Lewis, his nephew, and captain of the Horse Guards, with a flag and a letter to Lord Cornwallis, requesting that every possible attention might be shown to "It was while the commander-in-chief reined up the wounded General, and permission that young his horse, upon approaching the spot in a ploughLewis should remain with him to minister to his ed field where lay the gallant Colonel Haslett wants. To both requests his Lordship yielded a mortally wounded, that he perceived some British willing assent, and ordered his staff-surgeon to soldiers supporting an officer, and upon inquiring attend upon General Mercer. Upon an examina- his name and rank, was answered, Captain Leslie. tion of the wounds, the British surgeon remarked Doctor Benjamin Rush, who formed a part of the that, although they were many and severe, he General's suite, earnestly asked, 'A son of the was disposed to believe that they would not prove | Earl of Leven?' to which the soldiers replied in dangerous. Mercer, bred to the profession of an the affirmative. The Doctor then addressed the army surgeon in Europe, said to young Lewis, General-in-chief: 'I beg your Excellency to 'Raise my right arm, George, and this gentleman will there discover the smallest of my wounds, but which will prove the most fatal. Yes, sir, that is a fellow that will very soon do my business.' He languished till the twelfth, and expired in the arms of Lewis, admired and lamented by the whole army. During the period that he languished on the couch of suffering, he exonerated his enemies from the foul accusation which they bore not only in 1777, but for half a century since, viz: of their having bayonetted a General officer after he had surrendered his sword, and become a prisoner of war-declaring that he only relin- of a much loved commander. quished his sword when his arm had become "The battle of Princeton, for the time it lasted powerless to wield it. He paid the homage of and the numbers engaged, was the most fatal to his whole heart to the person and character of our officers of any action during the whole of our the commander-in-chief, rejoiced with true sol- Revolutionary war. The Americans losing one dierly pride in the triumphs of Trenton and general, two colonels, one major, and three capPrinceton, in both of which he had borne a con-tains, killed-while the martial prowess of our spicuous part, and offered up his fervent prayers for the final success of the cause of American Independence. "Thus lived and died Hugh Mercer, a name that will for ever be associated with momentous events in the history of the War of the Revolution. When a grateful posterity shall bid the trophied memorial rise to the martyrs who sealed with their blood the charter of an empire's liberties, there will not be wanting a monument to him permit this wounded officer to be placed under He enemy shone not with more brilliant lustre in any one of their combats during their long career of arms than did the courage and discipline of the seventeenth British regiment on the third of January, 1777. Indeed, Washington himself, during the height of the conflict, pointed out this gallant corps to his officers, exclaiming, 'See how those noble fellows fight! Ah! gentlemen, when shall we be able to keep an army long enough together to display a discipline equal to our enemies.' "The regular troops that constitued the grand | ror-struck at the danger of his beloved commandarmy at the close of the campaign of '76, were er, dropped the reins upon his horse's neck, and the fragments of many regiments, worn down by drew his hat over his face, that he might not see constant and toilsome marches, and suffering of him die. A roar of musketry succeeds, and then every sort, in the depth of winter. The fine regi- a shout. It was the shout of victory. The aidment of Smallwood, composed of the flower of de-camp ventures to raise his eyes, and oh, glorithe Maryland youth and which, in the June pre-ous sight, the enemy are broken and flying, while ceding, marched into Philadelphia eleven hundred dimly amid the glimpses of the smoke is seen strong, was, on the third of January, reduced to the chief, alive, unharmed, and without a scarcely sixty men, and commanded by a captain. wound,' waving his hat, and cheering his comIn fact, the bulk of what was then called the grand rades to the pursuit. army, consisted of the Pennsylvania militia and volunteers, citizen soldiers who had left their comfortable homes at the call of their country, and were enduring the rigors of a winter campaign. On the morning of the battle of Princeton, they had been eighteen hours under arms, and harassed by a long night's march. Was it then to be wondered at that they should have given way before the veteran bayonets of their fresh and well-appointed foe? "Colonel Fitzgerald, celebrated as one of the finest horsemen in the American army, now dashed his rowels in his charger's flank, and, heedless of the dead and dying in in his way, flew to the side of his chief, exclaiming, 'Thank God! your excellency is safe,' while the favorite aid, a gallant and warm-hearted son of Erin, a man of thews and sinews, and albeit unused to the melting mood,' gave loose to his feelings, and wept like a child for joy. "Washington, ever calm amid scenes of the greatest excitement, affectionately grasped the hand of his aid and friend, and then ordered, Away, my dear Colonel, and bring up the troops, the day is our own!'" SCIENTIFIC NOTICES. "The heroic devotion of Washington was not wanting in the exigencies of this memorable day. He was aware that his hour was come to redeem the pledge he had laid on the altar of his country when first he took up arms in her cause: to win her liberties or perish in the attempt. Defeat at Princeton would have amounted to the annihilation of America's last hope; for, independent of the enemy's forces in front, Cornwallis, with the flower of the British army eight thousand strong, was already panting close on the rear. It was, NEW DAY AND NIGHT TELEGRAPH. indeed, the very crisis of the struggle. In the MR. JOSEPH GARNETT has exhibited to the Brithurried and imposing events of little more than ish Association a model of a new telegraph, to one short week, liberty endured her greatest consist of two ladders, about forty-one feet long, What, then, is due to the fame and framed together at about twenty-four inches asunmemories of that sacred band who, with the der at the bottom, and twenty at the top, so as master of liberty at their head, breasted the storm to constitute the frame for the machinery. There at this fearful crisis of their country's destiny? are two arms, one at the top, the other about "The heroic devotion of Washington on the midway up the frame-work, counterpoised by field of Princeton is matter of history. We have weights, and worked by machinery, consisting of often enjoyed a touching reminiscence of that eight bevel mitre wheels. At the bottom of the ever-memorable event from the late Colonel Fitz-frame-work is a dial plate, with a pointer and the gerald, who was aid to the chief, and who never workman, in setting the pointer, brings the arm related the story of his General's danger, and of the telegraph into the required corresponding almost miraculous preservation, without adding to his tale the homage of a tear. agony. "The aid-de-camp had been ordered to bring up the troops from the rear of the column, when the band under General Mercer became engaged. Upon returning to the spot where he had left the commander-in-chief, he was no longer there, and, upon looking around, the aid discovered him endeavoring to rally the line which had been thrown into disorder by a rapid onset of the foe. Washington, after several ineffectual efforts to restore the fortunes of the fight, is seen to rein up his horse, with his head to the enemy, and, in that position, to become immoveable. It was a last appeal to his soldiers, and seemed to say, Will you give up your General to the foe? Such an appeal was not made in vain. The discomfited Americans rally on the instant, and form into line; the enemy halt, and dress their line; the American chief is between the adverse posts, as though he had been placed there, a target for both. The arms of both lines are levelled. Can escape from death be possible? Fitzgerald, hor position. The night signals are made by covering the lamps in particular order. For instance, two vertical lamps, covered, designate twenty; two horizontal ones covered, thirty and so on. But with some obviously practicable improvements, or rather additions, for its use by night, we are very confident that the electrical telegraph of our Professor Morse, will supersede all others as yet invented. stocks is the varnish used upon the panels of car-ed but little from the species now inhabiting the riages, and it is said to be now rapidly adopted same countries. in Europe. We should think, however, that the beautiful varnish for furniture, known as the "French Polish," would be preferable, inasmuch as it is far less brittle and abrasive. NEW PERCUSSION CANNON LOCK. NEW CRIMSON DIE-PLANT. In the South of Russia, numerous tufts of Harmala or rue of the steppes, have been remarked. It is called Inserlik by the Tartars, and its botanCommander Henderson, of the British Navy, strong and coriaceous, resists the plough, and is ical name is Peganum harmala. The root is has applied the common fowling-piece nipple and an invincible obstacle to cultivation. It is not cap to cannon, with decided advantage; and the useful for cattle, its odor being so disagreeable cap being struck with a wooden mallet, or almost that they will not touch it; but it is likely to any other instrument, it is thought there would prove of immense service to the Russians in their be less liability of mischance, in the hurry of ac-manufactures. Attempts were formerly made tion, than with the present percussion locks. The to die cloth of a red color with its seeds; but it nipple is placed upon a plate of iron which is was a complicated process, and has been since thrown back upon the discharge of the piece, and abandoned. M. Goebel, professor of chymistry exposes the touchhole, thus giving room for the at the university of Dorpat, having analyzed these vent to be closed by the thumb in the usual man- seeds, has ascertained the nature of their colorner. We have not seen this assumed improve- ing matter, and invented a much simpler method ment, but we can scarcely conceive an improve- of extraction. It is superior to most of the ordiment upon the cannon percussion lock of Mr. nary substances which produce seed, serves Hidden of this city. equally well for silk, wool, cotton and linen, presenting every shade from rose to crimson, and extract is sufficient for dying six square archines, not being subject to fade. Half an ounce of the or more than three yards, of a deep crimson. WARMING AND VENTILATING. It seems that there is yet great room for economy of fuel in warming and ventilating churches and other buildings. Mr. Babbage observes, that great care is requisite in all experiments on this matter, especially with reference to the heat of smoke in the flues. He had once observed the smoke at two feet from the exit to be 190 deg. Fahrenheit, the water in the hot water apparatus being 260 deg. Fahrenheit; the slightest change in one damper caused the temperature of the smoke in the flue to fall almost immediately to 160 deg. Fahrenheit, and that of the water to rise 290 deg. Fahrenheit. Thus, by a slight alteration in the damper, about 60 deg. Fahrenheit were saved. ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURE. Sir John Herschel has exhibited to the British Association, the curve of the mean annual pressure, as indicated by the barometer, for every hour of the day; and remarked that that little curve conveyed to the mind the very marrow of 8,760 observations. For his part he had never hoped to see so marked a result obtained in this climate; adding, that it clearly indicated to the eye, the important fact of the difference between the parts of the diurnal curve belonging to the day and to the night. AGE OF BATS. ANOTHER SUBSTITUTE FOR STEAM. mechanic (Mr. William Dupe, of Oxford,) has A correspondent informs us that an ingenious discovered a substitute for steam for propelling wheel carriages and ships. The invention, which is a very simple one, acts by condensed air. It is calculated that it will not cost more than onethird of the expense to work it, and will take up a much smaller space than a steam-engine. A model of this invention has been shown to several scientific gentlemen of the University and city, who have expressed their decided approbation of it. EXTRAORDINARY PROPERTY OF SHADOWS. calculations, founded on strict optical principles, An eminent living geometer has proved by that in the centre of the shadow of a small circular plate of metal, exposed in a dark room to a beam of light emanating from a very small brilliant point, there ought to be no darkness-in fact, no shadow at that place; but, on the contrary, a degree of illumination precisely as bright as if the metal plate were away. Strange and even impossible as this conclusion may seem, it has been put to trial, and found to be perfectly correct. REMARKABLE NATURAL PHENOMENA. about M. de Blainville has presented to the French Academy of Sciences, an interesting memoir on the Classification and Antiquity of Bats, (Cheiroptera,) in which he thus sums up our present knowl-zon here on Friday night had cleared away, When a dense fog which overspread the hori edge of their fossil remains :-first, that they ex- ten the sky became so bright that one of the isted before the formation of the tertiary strata of most imposing views of the opposite coast prenorthern countries, as they are found in the gypsum sented itself that ever was witnessed from our of the neighborhood of Paris; second, that these shores. It was dead low water, which favored Cheiroptera were, very probably, contemporary the view, and it seemed as if a curtain had been with the Anoplotherium and Palatherium; third, suddenly withdrawn, exhibiting the whole line of that they have continued to exist from that time the French coast as distinctly as if it had only to the present without interruption, as they are been a few miles off. Calais was so plainly disfound in the diluvium of caverns, and osseous tinguishable that comparatively minute objects breccia; fourth, that the ancient Cheiroptera differ-were clearly discernible. Boulogne piers were perfectly visible; the sails of the vessels in that | north. This farm was divided into two parts, by harbor were observed outspread, and the whole the stream, afterward called 'Jones's Falls, in of the villages along the coast seemed so close honor of a Mr. David Jones, who became its ownat hand, that the spectator on Dover pier might fancy them as near as the martello towers, immediately adjacent to Folkstone. Dover Eng, paper. BALTIMORE IN THE OLDEN TIME. and over er, it was known by the appellation of "Cole's Harbor," and after the old gentleman's death, it gave harbor and habitation to the beforementioned Mr. Charles Gorsuch, whose success in the way of courtship made him sole occupant of Miss Cole's heart, and sole owner of her valuable property. Sometime after his marriage, Mr. Gorsuch discovered that his farm was too large, and he disposed of a considerable portion of it to Mr. David Jones, who fixed his residence at the head of tidewater, on Jones's Falls, near the place where French-street is now situated. A LITTLE more than one hundred and fifty years ago, the land upon which the city of Baltimore now stands, with its sixty millions of property, one hundred thousand inhabitants, was sold by the hundred acres, and laid out in extensive farms. Then the wide spreading forest Mr. David Jones, after falling in love with a gave habitation to prowling beasts, and shelter to young widow, courted and married her, and to the flocks of heaven. Then the waters of the her son, Mr. James Todd, bequeathed his vast brook pursued their way undisturbed over their sil-possessions. This Mr. Todd, in turn, became a very bed, and the bright shores of the Patapsco suitor; he wooed and won the hand and heart of glittered in the sunbeams in lonely solitude. Now a nice young lady, who became the possessor of how changed! The trees of the forest have fal- Mountenag's neck. Having made respectable len before the axe of the woodman, and are no additions to his property, and ranged awhile over more to be seen; the birds and the beasts have his fields and forests, he made a re-survey of the been driven from their verdant homes, and sing entire estate, lopping off some portions, which he their songs and seek their prey in far distant conveyed to certain of his neigbors for value reshades. The waters of the brook have been ar-ceived, he procured a patent for the remainder, ested in theirr course, and diverted into channels under the name and title of "Todd's Range.' of usefulness; and the still brilliant shores of the Patapsco are vocal with the sounds of merriment that ascend from the lips of thousands who pursue their paths of business by the side of fleets that walk like things of life over the broad and beauti ful river. This Todd appears to have been a man of business. In a short time he disposed of different sections of this land, and was thereby the means of bringing new neighbors near his own solitary dwelling. Three hundred acres of his boasted soil fell into the hands of Captain Richard Colgate, who was county commissioner, and gave his name to a creek which still bears it, near the north branch of the Patapsco, from a part of which some of his ancestry had the honor of driving a party of Indians, who had planted their village upon the banks of a beautiful cove which makes up from the river. Fragments of rude earthen cooking utensils and arrow-points of stone, are to be found upon the spot to this day. It seems strange at this day of improvement, to talk of the acres that were farmed where streets are now located, and where busy thousands breathe. Yet such was the fact, and that within the memories of our grandfathers. Between the years 1660 and 1670, Mr. Charles Gorsuch, a member of the Society of Friends, purchased a plantation of fifty acres on Whetstone Point, including the spot which our beautiful fort Mc Henry now encloses. For this fifty acres of land Mr. Charles Carroll, Esq., purchased of Mr. Todd a Gorsuch paid the extravagant demand of ten tract cut off from his " range," and afterward pounds, either in cash or tobacco, and a prettier sold a part of it, consisting of about thirty acres, spot he could scarcely have selected; for Whet- to Mr. Jonathan Hanson, who built a mill; the stone Point sits like a swan upon the river, breast- remains of which still stand like a solemn memoing the bright waves that roll in beauty against rial of the past, near the northwestern intersection her form. About the same time Mr. Ålexander of Holiday and Bath-streets. How it is that this Mountenag took up two hundred acres on each old relic of by-gone years have been allowed to side of the stream now known by the name of the survive the time-worn fabrics with which it once Hartford run; for years the place was called held companionship, we are not able to divine. Mountenag's bottom, or Mountenag's neck. Some protecting spirit has doubtless sheltered it beneath his wing, and protected it from the utter decay which has fallen upon every human invention that once stood near it. A century and more it has borne the ravages of time, and still may bare its head to the "battle and the breeze." Mr. Charles Gorsuch seemed to be a man whose "constant care was to increase his store," for he paddled his canoe across the Patapsco, for the very laudable purpose of paying his addresses to a certain Miss Cole, whose father, Mr. Thomas Cole, was the owner of five hundred and fifty acres of what was considered pretty good landextending from Mountenag's farm, a little west of Hartford run, to the distance of one mile west- Tears do not dwell long upon the cheeks of ward, in the neighborhood of where Chatsworth youth. Rain drops easily from the bud, rests on run finds its way through the city and from the the bosom of the mature flower, and breaks down river shore to Salisbury Plains, about half a mile that one only which hath lived its day. GETTING IN DEBT. constant peppering. Some men take these latter A MAN who goes in debt gives in pledge a cerwith great sang froid. We once heard a persontain portion of his liberty and of his good name. age of this sort boast that he had been served A failure to redeem it subjects him to a penalty with warrants enough to make a plaid cloak. from which no lenity of his creditor can relieve But to a sensitive individual nothing is more anhim. In alluding to the loss of liberty which is noying. If he walks the streets, his creditors apconsequent, we have no reference to the incar-pear to be all abroad too. He fancies there is an ceration of the person, but to that kind of restraint upbraiding look in each one's eye as he passes, which is imposed by the pressure of conscious and it is very plain that they meet him on purpose. obligations without the power of meeting them- In turning a corner hastily he is sure of jostling a species of servitude more galling to an honora- against a dun. He gets to know a constable ble mind than bodily confinement. It was no by instinct; and quickens his pace if he observes doubt reckoned a very foolish act of the Venetian a man looking at him from the opposite side of merchant to pawn a pound of his own flesh as the street. The sight of a magistrate's office security for his debt; yet hundreds are daily put-causes disagreeable sensations. He dreams at ting in jeopardy what is of more value than a night of execution and sheriff's sales-a knock at whole carcass of flesh-even though it were such a one as Falstaff owned. the door fills him with apprehensions, and every note that is handed to him looks like a capias. He may be a brave enough man under ordinary circumstances, but now he trembles at a touch upon the shoulder; and the face of a creditor, though a meek looking man, becomes more terrible than the visage of a giant in whiskers. It is no small matter which one is about when he puts himself in the power of another man-as every debtor does. The sense of benefits received even from a friend is a very painful sensation unless it be accompanied by the ability of returning equivalents. How much more oppresWe shall conclude our chapter upon debt by alsive is such a feeling when a man is conscious luding to a notion pretty generally prevalent, that he has been using the means of another to which seems to assign to them a different charwhose favors he had no claim, and finds that he acter from that of other obligations which are must now trust to forbearance which he has no not enforced by legal compulsion. Debts being right to expect! The facility with which some thrown into Courts of law are in some measure run in debt is astonishing. It is as though a man thrown out of the Court of honor. That is to who knows not whether he can swim should say, they are not always regarded in so sacred a plunge into the water over his depth for the pur-light as those other claims which appeal only to pose of trying. How often are the prospects of one's sense of self-respect and courtesy. From life clouded by the consequences of such rash ad- this it follows that the paying of a debt is not venturing! Many who by strenuous efforts re- looked upon as so exalted an action as the returntrieve the errors of a first wrong step earn a dear-ing of other obligations wherein there is no legal ly purchased experience by years of subsequent embarrassments. A exaction. The one is simply called honesty; the latter receives the more honorable appellation of We are speaking of men who become debtors magnanimity. Without wishing in any manner by reason of unthoughtfulness and over-hasty pre- to weaken the force of those generous feelings cipitancy-men of honest purposes, but wanting which prompt to actions of the latter kind, we prudence. These are they who feel most keenly cannot but think that the views of pecuniary obthe galling of that enthralment which fetters the ligations as above stated are quite mistaken. spirit of a man-which presses upon his feelings debt is the representation of a benefit enjoyed. of self-respect, and wounds his sense of personal Whatever may have been the motive of the perindependence. To all who are in this predica- son who conferred it, nay allowing it to have been ment there is but one course-the honest, manly purely selfish, we are nevertheless under an oband resolute one of redeeming-however long the time or difficult the undertaking-of redeeming every claim which stands in the way of entire deliverance from the servitude of debt. There is hardly a more noble spectacle than that of a man who by inadvertence or misfortune has fallen into pecuniary difficulties, from which the operation of the laws has given him a nominal freedom, yet who, disdaining a quittance which comes as a boon, applies himself with unabated energy to retrieve the consequences of his errors, and devotes years of labor to the complete fulfilment of every contracted obligation. Such men are conquerors and deserve wreaths. ligation. If our own sense of personal independence and justice require that it be repaid, the force of this consideration is not lessened because the law requires it too. Besides, an honest man will consider that the compulsive penalty of the law was meant not for him but for those who would disregard other requirements. A deaf and dumb person being asked what was his idea of forgiveness, took the pencil and wrote, it is the odor which flowers yield when trampled upon." To view the subject in another light, there are two kinds of debts-large and small. Dr. Johnson likens the first to cannon balls-if you stand in the range of one you are swept by the board; the others are small shot; no limbs are in danger of being broken by them, but you are sure of a extreme. A modern writer says the government is safer in the hands of the poor than under the administration of the rich, but is administered with more economy by the middling classes than by either |