io»?i»«f*rr ia*qf*M#' ! ' K ■•»/ ’ • 'I J,.'.,.!; af>®»®»V> .ir./; '' *‘ w | 1 f MOT rAluVmU* TJIKEE MONTH. 1 1 * iFNorVVVo ■vminrtmx montiib; i» IF NOT PAID MOKTfIB, »» i not PAiDWinhrt TWBiiVe! uotitna, *oo tb't>v< Mrua'llt ialHwfafiilboUrf.of •V®)’ I*' 1 *' country papertn ttraStata,and will b» »rto**Ar NotlUcottipuasea'wlllbaallqwaJ baadpald. • K •• •* •• DIITV A.f>ri l l.[Aßlt.lTY OP POSTMABTEIta. PoUma'itar a' (o iollO jjijjffiW iSMto wSS ' »rno«bl&tibMObiorlPWif®<'gf' lh : n ,,],,,. OT to otfiari, ft»BM?K/iWX3rW.ft«««rt».- I “Siil,tt.rU bdw oalrlWb, tn.illibto.bboM tbftOOMi* ; .rm«f.% . ; -■'■"■ '■■ " : ■■ ■ - -■■ ■ ■ *»#{>. R imv | ftIWRM | I .KM; i' E u ak, oniodlu i >1 IoIWU Eoni*.ii ! ?w jhra{lV a . ... THE INDIAN'S BOSE, irwns ihei Indian: aumtnot , H ,, * ,osa fofi pleasant days which come like an basis in th§ desert of wintW, cheering, and g ad- things; in the forest wore all yellow and faded, yet not one fell; the tall grass on the-prame, was unruffled iby the slightest breath-of'wind;; a light I blue vapor enveloping every, object; there was nO brightness, no -dazzling glare 5 but oil- wOs aS still and silent 93 moonlight. It seemed as if the spirit of the departed sum mar had returned, soft and balmy, yet cold and, lifeless, to haunt the scene it hadonco made bright; , The sun, that in the past summer had been so hot and fierce, was now!-pale and yellow ; then, at his setting ho lighted up the west-with his deep red light,! like a departed hero, leaving his glo ry behind him; now, he sunk calmly amid moOb-iight to rest, a few foebie, rays only rerriaining to tell of, his departure The sun Had set; the shades of evening were falling-fast over forest and prairie; the stars..were coming out' one nfter another, as the. graceful figure of an Indian lad gli ded from the dark pine forest and mode his way through the rank herbage of the prairie,' where the undulating motion of the grass, which in some places reached lar above his head, alone enabled the eye to follow his track. v A short distance from IHO borders ofthe forest Wy the carcass of u deer. When within about twenty yards of tho spot, the Indian paused ; and; after examining tfie priming of the rusty, prim , iiive looking musket he ca rried, he crouch es iri silent watchfulness among the thick grass, which here only reached his chest. , Na-na-ma-koe (Thunder) was of the .tribe of Sacs. Ho numbered nineteen sum mers, and longed to become a warrior.- His heart burned within jiiip when he.lis tened to the tales the old rpep told of migh ty chiefs now gone to the happy hunting grounds, or to the boastful recitals of deeds of bravery or cunning the warriors related around the camp fire. But there was another’ reason more powerful in his breast than ambition: Na-na-ma-kee loved the daugliter bf.one of the chiefs of t the tribe ; and the mdidon loyed : him. She was very beautiful; her Tong black hair and soft dark eves any Europan lady might have envied; her voice was so soft and silvery, they called her the Hummingbird. Often, as they wandered together, did the lovers talk of the day when Na : na-ma-Uee should be enrolled among tho, braves, and demand the fitimming-bir'd'for his bride. Two grizzly bears he bad already slain;] (one more, and all his hopes would be fut 'filled. Whilst hunting the wild turkey, ho .had that morning found a Ireshly-killed deer, The heavyfootprints of a bear told clearly liow,'the animal met his death, and Na-na-mu-keo well knew that ‘the grizzly’ would return for another feast on I his victim. He had waited but a few min utes before'a loud; rustling was heard in the tall grass ) nearer and nearer it came until he could clearly distinguish bruins heavy shuffling trump. Th 6 noise ceased and the Indian knew, by-an occsional low guttural growl, that the creature was busy ft his repast. Rising softly he crept for ward, step by step, with cat like tread, until withiii'a dozen He could see the huge brute plainly tearipg and crunching] his prey. He knew that to level at any except the Heod, would be worse than use less Keeping liis eye therefore, steadily fixod on him, lie waited 1 , musket in hand, in readiness for the first opporunity. At length the grizzly’s head was raised with a fierde crowl, Na-pa-ma-keo was on the leeMdej therefore, he knew the bear could hot have winded; him ; biit he' saw that htsj ‘ kusptciotiV'v ero Q f°i>sed T^ , N° ’"“u fobelort.‘ L Ihslatitly hefired, andtl}o ball jcnteHd' the creature’s neck. Tfie blopd gushed in a torrent from the woundjbut it was Rpt iporial, and will) a roar of nnngled rage niid'agony, the bear rushed |owards )iis' uhseiefi enemy, The Ihdwn jctapH hVs', jiiancT instinctively fo hls ,| ,e 'j> Y h . r -1 hung ihe powder’ flask', to reload, but it ; was gone- His only remaining chance : flf- Ht Mt«m in m*** mMah*: iMp^ie.. hi mar. - [?i:to pie- UUAPl ■flr* bim, a joliiu IBS* Ittfu li£h I no 000 Ha*o ith* bMt, M»ii< RSSE^i SW «»•, [bimall. 1 UNO;' 1 ’’ S KtfrpifA pli o:l winicqj li." v/ K,iiand< kanool. ftlpiw! tarooqna. [U/wtl'M-' hcrUKh" b»r'6fue- L'ii/rtfaJe. It f I wre Ron |%Oicilr* Llfipih* Ektfcm&tf;' tt&clt in pyetiVffP era* ioWMICP' yy&iivdf \Z ile'r blvof »* lnuvon*. livft*ana |*nrAu?> Lvn.nfcu Ibabc&D• but aiio E&foaof p, Krfrri!- ’ | J p sn UtCOJ* Uneau lnr.te. ISebW t«o.- [• can let or M»'V, fajr‘tu>) k fetpti- IfiwiP L'.ol) 1,35, (dUlrt/ s Atoli Ckrnfid!* Hcpwbliccm. i .. . • . - . - •. • . . ' : ;. 1 .. l L 1 ‘. ■» —— "Iwimv PAPER: BEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE, MORALITY, AND FOREIGN AM) DOMESTIC INTEUIOENCE. Volume 4, ha preceded to haunch the bear, in order to blood the dogs.” In the meantime, the In dian had regained; his musket, but the powder horn was not to bo found. Tho darkness enabled him to escape unobserved Vo the wood. Sadly he sat on the trunk of a fallen tree; all his hopes were now blighted. He almost wished ho had lost his life in the contest. Although he wus not yet a warrior, his spirit would surely have’ gone to tho happy hunting grounds if he had fallen nobly fighting. What a pleasant time to go now; he thought, at the seasonofthegreat huntingfeasts! Hewon j dared how many thousands of miles of prairie must be burning there now to make the air here so warm, and so full of smoke from a land so'distant,, that none knew where it lay. When ho thought of the Humming-bird, and how sorrowful she would be if ho were dead, these thoughts vanished, and he felt life was still dear to him. But before he should be a warrior some other might-buy her, for the girl was active and clever, could cook a bear’s ham or ortibrbider a moccasin as well as any squaw.' Ho would have the skin ! Had he not as good a right to it as 1 the pale face ? Ho found the bear; he first struck him; perhaps ho might have killed him without the white man’s aid; he must have faced his pursuer,and with his longknife he sure ly had a chance against a wounded bear! Tho next question was how he could obtain the skin. His powder was gone: and he knew in close combat there wa3 no hope for him: Perhaps ho could stab the hun ter in his sleep. Na-na-ma-keo glided, j snake-like, to the spot where the curling smoko of the hunter’s fire rose nbove the tops of the tall grass. Buffalo hide lay a few yards asleep, but around wore. his hounds, tied in couples to pegs driven into the ground, ready to warn their master of the approach of any hostile foot. The In dian was’foiled in his murderous project .vet each obstacle served but to increase his eagerness. There .lay the dead bear nt bis feet, be dared not attempt to skin it for the slightest nioso would arouse the dogs. His resolution was soon taken. — Creeping back a short distance cautiously as before., he lay dos V-n to .watch. Long and wearisome appeared ,night. He heard the howling of .wolves, far dislapt on the prairie,occasionally answered by a low growl or short bark from.thb bounds; the dismal hoOtings of the owls in the forest and all the strange sounds of night in the backwoods sounded clearer and. more.ter rible in the perfect stillness of inanimate nature. , ' \ At length morning enmo. At tno nrst I dawn, the hunter rose,, and having fresh primed his rifle, and substituted the hun ting-shirt for his sleeping blanket, com menced, skinning the bear. In almost breathless eagerness,Na-na-ma-kee watch ed him: One leg after another was freed from ils covering; a few dexterous strokes of the knife, and it would bo finished. The In dian rose and slunk round until became be tween the hunter and his rifle. . The fiorpe, yells of tho, dogs. started Buffalo hide —-1 Looking back. he.s»\y a pair of piercing black eyes gleaming nt him, and the muz-, zle of a rusty musket within, half a, dozen yards of his head. j The hunter had his share of courage, yet could not help feelipg he was by no j means in a pleasant situation. The Indi- I an was too near to admit a chance of his I missing and yet quite far enough to give j time to firejiofore the hunter could grap- I pie with' him. , i He felt it no small relief when ha heard in the Sac tongue these words: ‘Stand still and the, Indian’s gun-speaks not. The redskin seeks not the pale face’s blood.— ‘Hey !’ said Buflalo-hide, forgetting that; although ho understood Sac, the Indian plight not know a word of English. ‘l’m 1 tarnation glad to hear it;, but if you’ll oblige pie, just poiflt that there rusty musket of yqurs the other'way—1 should feel a trifle piore comfortable talking to you, I guess. ' Na-na-ma-kde waited with grave court esy until (bis speech was finished, although it was perfectly unintelligible to him.— The Great Spirit hasigivert many tongues tc>: the pal® faco. he saulp Mhe redskin has j hbt orie tongue: - ■ ■ . ~ BuSalo-hide gavo the Indian a translation of hissbeech ds : civilly worded as possible Avith: the! addition! that a t hear’a ham wnß at ■his would like one., : - :: When 1 Na-na-md-kde is, hungry, he? can jyiil for' hintself'; he Is* hut a squaw, that ,He shbuld yfkflt Others to hunt for him,Wte hunter began tb fear, lest he had unwittingly^ibsulled 1 the ■ Indian,' bmifious-lbokfog at' liim. Whatidq wafit of me? ‘ha Udvb the skirt;’ •fnn t kdei' , ‘t I found the grizily: •for hirtt'lonft piddbritlf nvtfaUed tflfe W ,®J& wa L, TKrtct>J!ntnfe [ br thb thirtity deer, hiflea hdt fflatH irt thick’ 1 grtsyi ,! thS'crtMu** dutart Salfei-ftcn’S *tefclpbfi.< Naina-rtia-We' fled, ■' •Thb Csnkdinrtrtartie’ fQi' the glijubh; 1 i-VI .llili’ ) Clearfield, JPa», J«ly 29, 1853. the grizzly followed, as the dog pursues the wild turkey through the cornfield; the rest the pale-face knows. You saved my life; why theft should I take yours ?’ Well, thought the hunter, 1 have heard tell of the login varmin shewing gratitude, 4ftd such like, but I can’t say as ever 1 met with it afore. It would have boen strange indeed if he had, as none of them had anything to thank him-for, except not wantonly taking their lives; and in this respect, ho showed the same kindness to a prairie dog as toan Indian; for just the same reason—there was no use in shoot ing the one nor the other. They say, thought he, that an Ingin’s exactly like a dog—he never forgets a good turn done him, but, to my thinking, they’re more like skulking wolves—bold enough if thor s a pack o’ ’em, but skeary, timorous devils when -alone. ‘Hark ye! red-skin,’ he said: ‘l’ve a fancy for this same Bktri ; 'tis a reglai screamer; beats all the bear 6kins ever I set eyes on. I’ve a nice pack of beaver yonder, worth twice the money; I’ll get that for you instead.’ I Na-na-ma-keo saw the hunter’s mean ingly his motions, although'he understood not his words; his brow darkened, his eye glittured like some deadly serpent’s when the reptile is coiled in readiness for the fatal spring. ‘The tongue is far from the heart,’ he replied ; ‘the pale face’s heart says, my long gun stands by the beaver s pack, my fierce dogs stand around it. Is Na-na-ma-kee a fool ? I seek not the skin to sell it,’ he continued, ‘but that I may ,be a warrior. When I return with it the chiefs will say: Na-na-ma-kee has slam three grizzly boars, let him be numbered amongst the braves. Then will I wear their claws as a necklace; I will take to myself a wife; beautiful as the fawn, with a voice sweater than: the. mocking bird s. 1.g0,’ ho added; ‘bring the skin after me; bring the skin after me, and remember, lessen the distance between us but a bow s length, and the pale foce will never more hunt the deer in the forest, or the buffalo on the’ plain. ■ Come !—I lead the way■ The hunter rose, and sulkily followed him, keeping himself in readiness for any opportunity that might offer to fling him self on his guide and disarm him ; but the Indian’s quick eye was turned back rest lessly every instant. Once or twice, when Buffalo contrived to approach him more nearly, the Indian faced suddenly round, and by a significant glance at his Weapon, !gnve the hunter plainly to understand, if he valued his life, it would be prudent to keep his appointed distance. Nearly half a mile they proceeded thus, until Buflulo hide began to fear lest he should be led to some camp to be tortured as a prisoner of war; but wheft he recollected lhat hislife was now in the hands of his guide, bis fears on this head were set at rest- At, length Na-na-ma-kee stopped. ‘lt is en lough.’hesaid; ‘go.’ The hunter needed not to bo told a sec ond time; dropping his burden, he set out on a brisk pace, and soon reached the spot (where he had passed the previous night. (He knew it would be useless to pursue the robber, and made up his mind to loss 'of the bear’s skin. • . I Na-na-ma-kee returned in triumph to ! ft is tribe; he was made a warrior, and the i Humming bird became his bride. Many years had passed away. It was winter; the snow lay thickly on the ground, and the trees were clothed with its fantastic foliage. In a village of the Sacs, around the council fire, sat the braves in deep and grave deliberation. The squaws and pa pooses were hurrying to and fro; or stand ing in groups of two or three, conversing in eager whispers. All was excitement. A war party had returned,' bringing with them a pale'face whom they had captured. The prisoner stood bound to a sapling, his arms fastened behind him. He was an old man p the snows of many winters were on his head, yet he Was still strong and ac tive; his figure unbent and his arm full of vigor. But one pipe was smoked ere the chiefs had decided the captive should be tortured. They unbound him from the tree, and had already commenced tying him'to a stake in the centre of the village, when a tall figure waa seen aoming over the prairie. The, prisoner's eye brightened- for a mo ment as that form approached; the knot . . , of Indians who stood around all made for Unwbwiojx Visitor.—'On Tues the new comer. His moccasins thickly d ay night oflast week a number of men fringed with scalp-locks, hie rich and mas- rea |gi ng a t Holliday’s Saw Mill, in Clear- Stfe wampum'belt, and handsomely orna- prepared themselvosfqr gigging fish mented pipe, all showed he was a great Wl>eo . t hoy the stream and had chief. From what he could learn, the t hdir torches lighted, they were suddenly ■captive!foui>d< h& had' beett long £bsett on aur by the screaiiis of a lafge' pan a trail, add the' tribe knew not'i'when he thbt'. utdnding oh the opposite bank of the would return.or the council Would ftothava . Gfcourse the alarmed; men drop been held ift hia absence! - ' : ; pedtheir gige nod '.torches and made time ; ‘rhave sbmfethlhgtd telltfibgreat'chief foytheebantee, which; they,jrad scarcely, belbre I die,’ skid tlfeapttve; Nk-na-bk- yoack'd and barricaded before the vorm kee-i-for if mk forward, un- ’irit'rhade his' appearance M the bousb. He willinclv ; he, evidently (cohtrnuW'prowlingaboutall nightttikkinz. nized an old acquaiqtßnfce. ' ■ ‘ the woods echo witb the * most _erri c «Sneak;* he said, ftt thp same time mo, screams, and only deserted, when me bay i tibning the Indians b withdraw; ‘ihftt dkWhed. the mim iS4tif ! ! W and o6 before the 6h«tnteb;dashttm’his yoiS' rtec'bUect At)o. f dliy ; wbt adea.with, hia tail, and showing hts {*<>& theh^bC'the'fieatf,Mtu?beB. they.had,neither L the old matt"; ‘‘ybtijktljHheri-yoa y n /^mpk|| e fM ; .V:v '■ ■■ ■ ’ '■'"te The chiefs lip Curled with a smile of scorn, as he replied:: ‘Nn-nu-ma-keo owes him nothing ; the grizzly bear was alum for his skin, not to save a ( rod skin s life 1 Na-na-ma-keo’s gun was empty, his pow-. dergone, or the white hunter’s bones would now bo blenching on the prairie as a. pun- 1 ishment for his daring to enter the hunting grounds of the Sacs.’ _ _ 4 You sneaking sarpint!’ said Buffalo-, hide, who, finding his treaties of ho avail, gave vent to his indignation' at having been thus imposed on—as usual, when, ho was excited, making use of his natiyo tongue, unmindful whether the person ad dressed understood him or not-*-‘you rep tile, to desuve me with your fine speeches of gratitude, Howsomever, sure as shoot in,’ I’ll servo you out. If you and your dirty friends there murder me, I’ll lot ’emj know tho shabby trick you played me about that same skin—took it home. I’ll! | answer'for it, and said ns how you’d killed | un yourself. But I’ll let ’em - know tho j truth. ‘That there Ingin,’ I’ll say, ‘has | got a forked tongue,’ ns you call, it in your i fine humbugging way of speaking—‘a rat-j tlesnako’s is nothing to it.’ Ho paused, as) if astonished that this speech hud no effect! on the chief; but when Na-na-ma-kee| turned to leave him, without giving any j answer, ho recollected that most probably | tho Indian had not understood a word ol it; he therefore commenced a speech of like import in the Sac tongue. The stern features of tho Indian were convulsed and distorted, as the whirlwind, of, passion swept over them; it was but an instant ere .they became grave and calm ns before. ‘Pale-face,’ lie muttered, ‘lt is enough ; your life shall bo saved. Yonder, where the tall chestnut towers above the treeson the river’s edge, lies n,canoe —the r.ver passed, you qre safe. My brethren and my children,’ he said, turning to the crowd who were wailing eagerly,impatient to be gin torturing their victim—‘the pale face mocks us, saying : “In the days of my youth I was swifter than the lawn; I bounded over the tops of tlie prairie gruss, and it bent not beneath my feet; even now, with the snows of sixty winters on my head, it were as vain for the red-skins to pursue me as for the bear to chase the squirrel among the boughs of the tall pine forest.’ Letus try this lying warrior, iand provo his words to bp but wind, I J/jose him ; let him run ns far as his arm (can cast the tomahawk. When you bring 1 him back, let his tortures be double, as is his face. A shout of applauso from tho warriors greeted ibis speech. Buffalp-hide was unbound, a tomakawk placed in lus hand, which ho was told to throw m What ever direction ho pleaced ; in an instant it went ■ whizzing through the uir,nnd re mained quivering in the ground, nearly half way to tho tree which Na-na-ma-kee had pointed out. A contemptuous laugh burst from the assembled warriors. Tho Pale-faces’‘arm is strong,’said they; ‘but knows he not where the river lies? tho rapids are strong and the stream wide no swimmer con Cross it.’ The captive walked slowly to the spot where the weap on had fallen ; Na-na-ma-kee raised his arm, and fifiy braves were instantly in pursuit, whooping like demons. The old hunter, as he ran. heavily be fore them, looked like a wouhded Buffalo chased by a pack of hbngry wolves ; his broad, massive form contrasting well with tho lightsymmetrical, figures ofthelndiuns. The distance between them and their prey had lessened one-half by tho limb he reach ed the' river. The canoe lay precisely where Na-na-mu-kce had told him; he leaped into it, and. with, a few. vigorous strokes, was soon far from the land. Loud and terrible rang the yells of his baffled pursuers; a few hurled their' tonbbhawks at the canoe, but they dropped harmlessly in thb water around it. The canoe was within a few yards of the- opposite bank, when one, better aimed than the rest, struck the hunter in the shpulder, and his arm dropped useless by his side. A mo ment’s delay would have been fatal. With out heeding the pain he suffered,he applied his whole strength to the right hand pad die, and brought the canoe to graze the bank; one spring, and he was in safety. The canoe shot like an arrow down the rapids, and was dashed to atoms over tho falls. 1 ‘ ' > ■ :;! fi 'i ! ‘s.*■ *'*j*0 >- > I' '. ! ; 1 ,1 f< • >!** r '-*1 This folio winga re the speeches deliver ed by President Pxekce, at several of the points' on his .route to'New York, and his speech at the inauguration of the Crystal Palace, the: prooceedings of his reception at tho different places we omit, they being entirely too long for our columns. TIIE PRESIDENT’S' SPEECH AT BALTIMORE. Mr. Mayor and Fellow Citizens of the City of Baltimore: My heart is full, and it would bo difficult to express, the depth of feelinut, with which'th.it cordial welcome has inspired me. (Cheers.) Your citi? zens by, their partial friendship and more than generous confidence, previously itn. posed on me a debt of.gratitude, which, years devoted, to the interests and. honor: of our common country cannot cancel.— (Cheers.) To bo thus surrounded by a j population not less, distinguished for its chivalry than for its patriotism, is pecu liarly gratifying and among the pleasunt memories suggested by theoccasion, who cun fail to he. regarded where the banner of unbridled and unqualified religious tol- 1 eration was first given to the Yo ul cannot be in such an atmosphere without feeling its vivifying influences. Every man who haSVpatriot’s lungs must feoi it, because every man knows that religious toleration lies at the foundation of civil lib erty. (Applause.) No transient traveller can enter the city without being struck with Ihe evidence ol , enterprise and honest thrift, which evei;\ * i where meets the eye. Baltimore has, stood forth prominent m that astonishing, progress of our country, which may be I truly said to have outmarched all prophe- j 'ey Her great-advantages in a conimer- 1 cia’l point of view, have, of course, always; been marked and apparent, by her com-j manding geographical position, so fur as i internal improvements are concerned.— ' This was forcibly alluded to by General ; Washington as early as 1796, and is only | beginning to be appreciated even by your-1 selves. As the . great West pours in its j I boundless resources at the bidding ofyour , I enterprise, and the judicious application of j I your moans, to those internal improve ments, which leave the destinies or Balti more ns one of the great cities of the world, no mattet; of doubt.. (Cheers.) But alter all, it is not the increase of your pppula i tion and wealth, the augmentation qfyour shipping interests, your crowded depots teeming with the agricultural and mineral wealth of the interior,tlio erection oT splen did edifices, arising as it were by, magic, nor all these combined, which chiefly en gross the thoughts of the patriotic citizen, and give his pulse a quicker and prouder throb as he enters your environs,and sees the monuments at a distance. They may crumble ; that is their destiny ; hav, they will moulder and mingle with the common earth, but the inspiration of the deeds of valor they commemorate, which saved you from the presence and the shame of u foreign soldiery, will perish neVOr! (Ap plause.) Who shall say, what has been the extent or power of the example of self sacrificing heroism which signal zed the defence of North Point end holt Henry in 1814? (Applause.) ft was a dark and trving hour; we were perplexed, but not in despair—cast down, but not ,de -Btroyed—-when your example and prow ess reanimated courage and confidence everywhere, it was felt thut that shield of protection, superior to nil human powet*. and recognized by our fathers during their great struggle, was still ovdr us. , Let us remember and acknowledge tt witW grateful’hearts. Who shall say, es pecially, how much your monuments Tor those who fell, and your rcyerenceancl re fectionnto esteem for those who survived the conflicts of the anxious days und nights to which I have uverted, huye had to.do with the free and gallant libation of Mary land blood upon so many fields of Mexi co? (Applause.) The fathers of the Revolution taught their sons. tfint they owed'their first duty to their couritry—a duty not to bp avoided, but to he cheerful, fy fulfilled it> the face of all consequence?,, and af every hazard. Has' not the. Al mighty blessed to us, their descendants, their example, their experience, and. thpir lesson, -Nobler praise cannot be bestow ed than to say thutiio State in the jconfed-, eration lias furnished a more dfoipressiye exemplification of the power of,that teach ing than that before whoso people Ihaye, now the honor to stand. (Applause,) “ Mr. Mayor—A pleasant inslafitat this moment comes back to my memory, to which.l may not becensured forladyert* -ing t Seon ofter the bark Kepler anchored with a portion of the Oth infantry, near tno castle >of San Juun do Ulloa, about the 30th ,ofJuhoj ,1847,another transport edme to janebof, .wilfiin a cable’s length. We cjuid not discern the ship, but in: a, few nTOmentstve. beard ; peeling from herdeck »hefstirring, notesof ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ - ; The i*te’ * electrical, f. I thooghr, probably from 1 osspicmtion; that, the ship from. BaUimortsf andi the lucf verified ;the[ itilpressioTi.Bnata w.eio loty ered, and ; friendly .greeting. dPtnraeflced between the sons.of New fingfend; - in lerruptiidv \ . ftICCS (U aUWHfMUE; r !uUr.; : ;-.«a * .‘Wssfe V; n rr:-***# j, do d mosliii, 680 1 do- dilo j-jna ‘ d* i-Htinoailid.i : 800 l dd HI-' do' *»"» I A iVOotnl redaction willb* madalo Melotlatit, add otbai* "ooMialSroiroolataafnßVatt ielshbolha»i»-a»d >6 W« to' • * V J2 0 * coovanlenlond ohwu meant for iba baiintti >ffiab oro*f KK^.?.T. b^ foi%ta M0«rnl(0l#d tb» moraaitoßiiiraly.«; mao adtaritw the£t*»i«f . i T '"i; Books* lobs and Blanks,. ■i H'iii;i OF EVERV DESOBtPITON. PRINTEDJN THE VKR* UEBT BTVHR, AND, ON THE SHORTEST. NOTICE. Al‘ THE OPFIOE OF THE ,\ ••OEBARFIEUD REPUBLICAN.’*- ' ; inlii‘rS9. PRESIDENT'S SPEECH AT PHILADELPHIA. 1 Mr. Mayor and Citizens of i^hiiadeU, phia: It grieves me that I aria physicnllV so unabl6 to respond to this most tiea'riy, and touching welcome. Sir, my heftrt is ( full—full of gratitude to you.und full ot, gratitude to all this people,who have placed' you in the position which you occupy.,. I did think that I had tried in my day 1 to go some little for the cause of my country, but such a day as this makes u man’s heart overrun with gratitude to a people like the inhabitants of Philadelphia. I have been much surprised—aye, sir, filled with the profoundest awe, at ’the manlier in which you have received me. Philadelphia, a city of some mark! If your mountains and your rallies did not teem with the ele ments of comfort to your population, if your institutions of learning were not amongst your proudest mfemlmehts, the single fact to which you have adverted, sir, that from hence was proclaimed the Declaration t)f.jjj||e n dence, would put Pennsylvania an(fsriu(adolphiu upon a pro eminence which in'the Providence of God no other State or city can ever enjoy.— Sir, 1 feel us you do, that we must bow.— We can hardly do anything else but boat' I boforethese recollections, and associations^ I feel 1 how inadequate is languitrge, land you also feel it, when you cpitio-to I speak of that period. Language does not | reach it, sir." Our hearts honor it in all its depth, power and fulness,’!, hope.—, These men, sir, of whom ydu have, Sfp-‘ ken, Who planned hero the institutions of a freo government, let us retnembor.'.we'raf no holiday patriots ; they wbre no schema i in» philanthropists ; they Wete no Viaion ary statesmen. They deliberated amid the difficulties that surrounded them,'and' here they meditated, amid the clamor of arms,' though they had been efiyirop ed with pence; nod ill absolute security.*~t And they solved the great problerrt, Which was a terror to' despots, and an liwpifatWhi to patriots ;' and' as' though the issue did not involve tho question oT their necks. Sir, here stood, (and as Tsay it,.they come before us now;) here, I Thomas Jefferson and Franklin,and Roger Sherman; and also, perhaps, (ibr. thmd the first limp I have been here,) trt thra very room, stood tho dauntless Jbhn Hap cock, as he receivod from those men; not only the assertion of our rights, but' tpo charter of ourliberties.- Can we do any thing but bow in a;p!aco‘, like' thisl not in my power to speakdo. ydii pt lengtlK Ydu have said very properly, perhaps,that it is not your prdVifice. ; It certainly is not mino to disturb tho deep current'of feeling which courses the hearts and minds bfihpias around me. V . • -i. But it is not only your city—it is yout State that is oPsonie mark. In a pecuust sense are your resources of’ wealth Pod power reposed in’ her own bosom. an empire in her self. Why ! thodeycl dpement of tho use of iron andcoalso pre-eminently since 1810,the foundation of British wealth and power, would of if self Constitpte a never failing sohrcd.pf prosperity to you. But,' sir, it ispot that on which you' have mainly relied, it w vour ! Agriculthre. llow rich you' arb not only in Clio moans of production; but above all, in tlie'men who produce. - Sir,—l would not hero forger that fc markable German population, & distih guishedfor theirthrift. thelrindustry, therr integrity, and their, devotion to civil anu religious liberty, and I think you most all rejoice that whereve.i 1 that race gb,and are spread,'thqy look to Pennsylvania in some respects as their second fatherlapd. . ’ • Sir, it is not chiefly, perhaps, or not so much on account dfl your honored: resour ces, of on accobnt 6f your commanding political influence in point'd this nation has designated you the Key stone of'the Arch; It is because of ymtlr geographicalpomtion. . .! : You are neither 1 a'Southern, u Northern, an Eastern, nor a Western Stute' and I should perhaps not much exaggerrte tf 1 were td say that you are all combined. — (Applause.) your rivers on’ this .siae’of the ridge’ empty, themselves into tifiil bay below you. On* the Wost they swell the flood of the Ohio, and finally 'Wash the shores bTLouisianq.' . "Sir, let tine say to you that patrioticmen throubhbdt'this entire country, North and South" look to you, and will always’do"so, not simply as the Keystone of tho A rch .but as the groat cenlral.self-Sustaining link; mi the chain which binds this Union into one harmonious 1 whoje, and which, holding. steadily and firmly to its moorings, will h,fable it to 1 ride' over qvery storm. 'V 1 Noble, noble men' bf ‘ Philsdblphia, pod men of Pchnsylviihid ! Noble for your fidelity .to did duties ’ imposed upon you by tho obligations’ of * ydur Constitution.— May I'iior say ,' let mo soy here, you ore hbt only triply urme'd/biit ■ you ard/ now and hayje' beeti triply bpunjl..;''Hbrd was to! DediiVafibn of \hdapcnddrtfd pmcfaipi bd'i here the ja rtic’ies of. confederation ,j>ro mdlgutert, aiid hem,fldaliy,'that; 't!6ni wna'adiiptedl'/(Qhfeers;)'! coifld; wish for 1 you 1 nd higher ‘ honor, and for my ebu nt fy iiQ higher plabe tinij' tecojrit £ than that great un3 ‘nibble dfevptibn•; w,hl idr ydu liuvu thus litr so honorably upndla and maintained, 1 1 ' ’