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Possessed so dread terrors for me! Hilt alas.' those blest days are forever no more] And mourning and sorrow now reign; The savage, iu wrath, has invaded our home? And dear Charles has been raptured and slain ? No more shall we sport on the banks of the stream, Or waik, hand iu band, through the grove ; lie has gone to his rest, iu those regions a far. Where dwells naught save quiet and level •‘Ellenor died while yet in her seventeenth year, and was buried iu a spot selected by herself, near a large oak tree by the house, under whose shades i»he used often to sport with her dear brother, and where, iu the summer hours, when deprived of Tiis presence, she had frequently resorted for con templation and study. “The, parents were now left entirely alone, -and w ith few iudneemets to make even life itself de sirable. Their only daughter had .died in autumn, and a freezing and dreary w inter w as at hand.” “It was a severe, o<*!d night is the month of December, and the moon shone upon the snow bright ami full almost as the sun itself, when two men were seen approaching the dwelling of this lonely settler. They walked up to the house and asked admittanve. Supposing them to be Indians belonging to some friendly tribe near by, who w ished to warm and rest themselves, they were without hesitancy permitted to enter.” “ ‘Cold weather this, old man,’ said the eldest of the two «trangers, who was at once observed to be an Indian, addressing the hunter as they seated themselves by the fire. ‘■“Yes,’ was the reply,-—‘and have you far to walk this cold night ?’ “ ‘I have come,’ said the Indian, ‘to fulfil my promise, made to you a long time since. You w ill recollect— ’ ‘“What! my son! and does he lire V asked the old man, with much emotion. “•He lives!—behold him there, before you!’ “Without waiting for the answer, the aged par ent, recognizing in the, till then, supposed Indian, his own son, had embraced liitn, neither being able, sj overwhelmed with joy w ere they, to utter a syllable; and the mother, feeble -at witnessing sj unexpected an event, had fainted anil (alien to the floor. She soon, however, revived and was permitted onoe more to clasp in her arms the son, whom she had ionsr believed dead, anil soon ex pected to meet in Heaven. It was a scene, in deed, which can much better be imagined than described. “You will judge what w ere the feelings of Charles on learning the death of his sister. ••But the cause of this long delay m the return of the Indian, was now to be explained. Il may he done in few words. “ii i overtook iiis party in a short time, after re covering from his wounds, and found them mour ning and almost distracted with grief, for in the contest with tiie hunter they had lost their chief and several others of their most daring warriors; anti tht*y were just preparing to feed their revenge by torturing to death with every cruel means which their savage and blood-thirsty hearts could invent, their captive buy. but happily he hail at rived in time to save him, though it had been utierly out ff his power to return him to his pa x ut< before. They continued their march into the western wilderness, where they were finally * 1 rj-n .in f,n ai-Munl nf a war w Inch .soon broke out between their own and several other hostile tribes of Indians, and lasted for nearly the whole time tliat had elapsed since they left the banks of the Androscoggin. “Charles had not forgotten his parents, though he had become habituated to the usages, customs and hardships of his savage comrades, and w ore, indeed, the resemblance of an Indian, He now, with his preserver, whom he would not permit to Icav ohim,live !wi ll his parents and sup; or ed them until, worn out with age and sorrow, they both, in the course of two years, were laid iu their graves nearly at the same time, “Charles Eaton, (for that was his name,) had now but oue friend iu the world-.-his Indian protector and preserver. They lived and wandered togeth for many years, obtaining their living, as they were taught to do, in the wilderness, until at length the poor Indian was taken suddenly ill and died, leav ing Charles entirely friendless and without a home, “Charles lived now, not because it was his own pleasure, but because it was the w ill of heaven that he should live. He for a time sought to make hiulself happy in society ; but the noisy and cold-hearted world possessed no charms for him, lie sought the mountains, w here he discovered a rave in which he entered and at once declared it his home while life remained. He has thus far kepi his'word, and,” said the old man, springing from bis seat with the activity of a boy, “ Charles Eaton is the man, who lias just saved you, my young friend, from the awful pangs of death !” 1 cannot describe my surprise on hearing this announcement, reining upon me, as it did, so sud denly. Ihwl iu fact become so interested in the old man’s story, that 1 had even forgotten ihe situ ation in which 1 was placed. We now sought rest from sleep ; but little did 1 obtain. I however by the morning found myself sufficiently recruited to venture to return to tlie dwelling at the loot of the mountain and from thence home, which 1 did. after first having been directed to the right path by my own kind preser ver—the Indian Captive! GO TO CHURCH. There is no one thing which helps to establish a man’s standing in society, more than a steady at tendance at church, and a proper regard for the first day of the week. Every head of a family should go to church, as an example to its mem bers; and every branch of a family should go to church, iu imitation of the example of parents who loved them aud watched over their best in terest. Lounging iu streets and bar rooms on the Sabbath is abominable, and deserves execration : because it lays the foundation of habits which ruin one—-body and soul. Many a young man can date the commencement of a course of dissipa tion which made him a burthen to himself and ■friends, and an object of pity in the sight of his enemies, to his Sunday debauchery. Idleness is ■the mother of drunkenness—the Sabbath is, to young people, generally an idle day; therefore if it be not properly kept, it were better struck out of existence. Go to Church. —ls you are a young man just entered into business, it will establish your credit —what capitalists would not sooner trust anew beginner, who, instead of dissipating his time, his character and his money iu dissolute company, at tended to his business on business days, and on the Sabbath appeared in the house of his God,— Go to Church with a contrite heart, and bending . a knea at the throne of your Maker, pour out a sincere thank offering for the past week. GitoCnurch ladies, and remember that reli £') i ujjt and lorns the fe’n.de character. i The Friendless.—h is remarkable how a sin gle word, unaffectedly ■uttered will sometimes re veal to us, more fully aud strikingly than could many books, the deep aud long experience of a hu man heart. Not king ago, a friend of ours invi ted a small party of orphan children from an asy lum, to spend an hour of a Wednesday afternoon at his house, (in Boston ) They manifested, each iu the way that Nature prompted or education al lowed, the most eager delight. It was evidently a rich treat to th*nu in their lonely state. It would have done any body’s heart good to see and hear them. As he was distributing amongst them the con teutsofa basket of oranges, he chanced to hear oue of the little girls say to a companion who was sitting at her side, “I know why Mr.- has invi ted us to bit house—it is because we haven’t any f lends. J haven't had a friend come lo sec me for jive i/rars." Merciful heaven ! Only twelve years old, and not have seen the face of a lrieud for five long years ! \Yc have heard many a sad tale of orphanage, and felt sympathy for the friendless ibetore, but we never heard words that went directly to the heart like these—that made so palpable the drea riness of the long days and nights that heavily follow one another, unenlivened by a single smile orkindiv tone of one living being with whom the homeless can claim kindred.. We thought, too, that we knew, of old, something ol the value of our friends, and estimated, not altogether too lightly, their joyous and assuaging influence up on the pulses oi the sou!, but never did our heart involuntary seek to bind them to itself with such a tenacious embrace, as since, the simple words of the poor orphan girl have given to us oue slight and inadequate impression of her unutterable and melancholy experience. No wonder that God from his secret throne has sent out so many kindly messages and sacred prom ises of love to the solitary and forsaken, the pa renth ■, and the widow; for, O how much do they need the.sympathy of J leaven, who have no friends on ea th ! aud how pleasant to the angels ot con solation to pay their unobtrusive aud peace-ladeu vis ts to the children of loneliness and sorrow. Would it not repay us richly, ay, a thousand fold, if we would open our doors more frequently to those who have no home, and distribute our kindly sympathies, which are, indeed, the bread of life, more freely to those who hunger and thirst for words of friendship an<\ looks ot affection aud tenderness.— Christian Register. Deacon Slow. —Deacon Slow had three sons —it is unnecessary to mention his daughter— who were, as Deacou’s sons are apt to be—the deuce can only tell why—very rougish. They were in tiie habit of poking fun at an old rain, who endeavored to have his share of the sport, by butting them over, a sort of fun which lie mteu manifested a disposition to piay olfon the Deacon, as he marched dowu to salt the flock—for these were dutiesto which he paid strict attention, as he was exceedingly humane, except >vhen he was very wroth, on which occasion his anger would burn like a furnace seven times heated. Now the Deacon’* sheep pasture was on the Shaw sheen river, which is narrow, but deep, anil the pasture terminates in a precipice which rose fii teen feet above the w aterand shelved over if, ns a beetle browed house hangs over a narrow street; aud the boys v. ho had exhausted all other fun up on the ram, were in the habitofsquating upon the edge of the precipice and darting a hat at him, upon which he would come with blind fury there at. The boy who held the hat, could easily leap aside, and the exasperated ram was quickly cool ed by a plunge headlong down the precipice into the stream.—At this trick they were one day caught by the Deacon their father, who took them into a thicket close by, and anointed their hacks ‘.hoiough’y with the oil of bhbe—-an e .eel lent application in such cases, made and provided. It is not always effectual however, audio this case the disease was not cured, as the hoy* were a few days after waiting round the place in order to re peat the joke on the unsuspecting aud innocent ram ; but on beholding their father at a distance, coming with his basket of salt, they hid in the thicket which they had so good reason to remem ber. Slowly came Deacon Solomon Slow, and after lie had scattered his salt, he stood upright aiid thought within himself, that it would be a musing to see the ram bolt over tiie precipice in to the river. He saw uo one nigh—how should he, when the boys w ere hid in the bushes ! and taking off lus broad brimcil liat, he made demon stations which at once attracted the attention of the lord of the flock, who set out as usual in full speed. The "Deacon hadsquatted close to the edge —and as he saw the ram bounding along, he pic tured out to his fancy, tiie silly (iguie the sheep would cut, bounding with a splash into tlie water —life began to smilei—the ram at last came dose, fierce on the charge, more enraged as the hat was larger than common—the Deacon grinned out right, but in the midst of his delight at the rani’s ridiculous appearance he forgot to jump aside, and the beast butted him over with a splash into the water where he intended the silly sheep should have gone. The boys ran out clapping their hands and shouting “you have got it dad,” in all the exstacy pf revenge, lie was afterwards called Deacon Solemn by Ills neighbors, among w hom he lived and died at a venerable old age. A Lady's Portrait of Herself. —Perhaps uo la dy was ever better reconciled to positive ugliness m her own person than the Duchess of Orleans, the mother of the Regent d’Orleans, w ho govern ed France during the minority of Louis the fif teenth. Thus she speaks of her own appear ance and manners:— “From my earliest youth I was aware how or dinary my appearance was, and did not like that people should look at me attentively. I never paid any attention to dress, because dress, and dia monds were sure to attract attention.—On great days my husband used to make me rouge, which I did greatly against my will, as I hate every thing that incommodes me. One day,] made the Countess of Soissons laugh heartily. She asked me why I never turned my head whenever 1 passed before a mirror—every body else did. I answered because I had too much self love to bear (he sight o£ my own ugliness! 1 must have been very ugly in my youth. I had no sort of features, with iittle twinkling eyes, a short snub noes, long thick lips, the whole of my physiognomy was far from attrac tive. Mv face was long with fat cheeks, and my figure was slioit and stumpy ;in short I was a ve ry homely sort of person. Except for the good ness of my disposition, no one w ould have endur ed me. It was impossible to discover any thing like intelligence in uiy eyes, except with a micro scope. Perhaps there was not on the face of the earth, such another pair of ugly hands as mine. The king often told me so. ami set me laughing the GEORGIA MIRROR. about it, (hr as I was quite sure of being very indy, J wade up **y niind to be always the first fcTlaugli M it. This succeeded very well tho’l must coiiess it furnished me with a good stock.nl materials for laughter.” Odd Change. —There is great difficulty ex perienced in these days of shinplasters, in mak ing change, but we have heard of two recent in stances, where ingenuity was put iu successful requisition to obviate the necessity of change. A rude fellow, while before the police magistrate for some nocturnal misdemeanor, was fined nine dollars for eighteen oaths, uttered in difiance of official warning tliat each one would eost him filly cents. He handed a ten dollar note to the justice who was about returning the remaining one to the delinquent. “No, no—keep the whole! I’ll swear it out!” And lie proceeded to expend the bal ance in as round aud condensed a valley of per sonal denunciation, as bad ever saluted the ears of the legal functionary. He then retired content. Something similar was the change given oue of our hack drivers, by a jolly tar, who was en joying a sail in a carriage in Broadway. A mad bull, “with his spanker rigged right straight out abaft,” or some other animal, going at the rate;of fourteen knots an hour, in the street attracted Jack’s attention as he rode along and unable to let the large plate glass window down, he broke it to atoms that he might thrust forth his head. “A dollar and a half for that,” says Jehu. • ‘Vot of it—here’s the blunt,” replied the sailor, banding a three dollar note to the driver. “I can’t change it,” said he. “Well nevermind,” rejoined,” the tar, “this’ll make it right.” The sudden crash of the other w indow told the driver in what way the change had been made. Kn ickerbocker. The Human Panther. —The Peoria Register— a paper which frequently instructs and amuses us with anecdotes connected with the settlement of the western country, furnishes us with the follow ing sketch which, it says, was related by the gen tlemen of great respectability, living uear the spot where the circumstances occurred:— In the latter part of that conflict, whichspread dismay throughout this part of the State, there were about nine hundred Indians encamped on the Illinois, river, opposite the present town site of LaSalle, composed principally of the Iroquois tribe. They had always maintained a friendly in - tercourse with the whites in the vicinity, and had manifested a great partiality for oue in particular. This was '■‘•old Myers," a perfect prototype of Couper’s trapper. This stats was the fifth in which he had erected his hut in advance of a white population. He had of course acquired more of the habits of the. Indians than of civilized meh, and was familiarly known among them as “The Panther”—a title which lie had acquired from them, hy a daring exploit iu killing an ani mal of that name, when leading them in one of their wild hunts. At the period referred 10, these Indians rallied under the Black Hawk standard, and were committing many depredations upon the settlers in the vicinity. When repulsed, they did not hesitate to wantonly murder their former friends and companions. About the cabin of the Panther, nearly a hundred settlers had come in for the safety of their wives and children, placing them under his protection. But among the vic tims of savage barbarity, there happened to be a brother-in-law of the Panther, with his wife and three children. Herein they committed an un pardonable outrage upon the family of their an cient friend and detne-sayage. \Vhen the sad tidings of their cruel fate reached the garrison, the Panther was seen clothing himself in battle array. With his rifle, his tomahawk and scalping knife, in open day he silently bent his steps to the Indian quarters, about one mile distant. Fear lessly he marched into the midst of the savage band, levelled his rifle at the head chief present, and deliberately killed him on tho spot. He then seven! the lifeless head from its trunk, and held it up by the hair before the awe-struck multitude, exclaiming. “Yon have murdered my brother, his w ife, and their three little ones, and now I have killed your chief. lam now even with you; but,” he added, “every one of you that is found here to-morrow morning at sunrise, is a dead In dian.” All this was accomplished by the Panther without the least molestation. They knew that he wautii take vengeance for their deed of blood ; and silently acknowledged the justice of the daring act. He then bore off the head in triumph to his cabin. Tiie next morning not an Indian could be found in that region. They left forever their homes and dead, and that part of the state has not been molested by them since, A few weeks since, this veteran of 80 winters sold his claim, and caparisoned with the same hun ting shift and weapons which he wore when he killed the chief, started for Missouri. After trav elling a few rods, he returned and asked permision to give his “ grand yell." The gentleman to whom lie had sold the land, giving his assent, he gave a long, loud and shrill whoop, that made the welkin ring for miles around. “Now,” said he, “my blessing is on the land and you, your ground will always yield an abundance, and you will al ways prosper.” Again he took up his march for anew home in tlje wilderness, where he could en joy the happiness of solitude, undisturbed by social ties. BALTIMORE, Aug. 16. Violent Tornado and loss of life. —The thun der storm which passed over this city on .Saturday afternoon, between five and six o’clock, was ac companied by a copious shower of rsin, and also by a violent gust or tornailo which occasioned the loss ofseveral lives, besides doing injury in various, places. The principal damage was sustained on Donnell’s wharf, at the lower end of Thames street. At this wharf was laying the Bremensliip Sophie, just arrived with a large number of Ger man emigrants, A number of these were making active preparations for their departure for the West and when the rain came on, about forty or fifty took shelter in an adjacent large unfinished ware house. The house not living.yet under roof, the violence of the rain caused ail Intt nine persons to seek refuge in the adjoining houses. They had scarcely quitted the warehouse when the w ind blew with furious violence, and in a moment prostrated the building to the ground, burying eight persons under the ruins. Os the latter number, five immediately succeeded in extricating themselves, though not without being considera bly injured. Two others, a man a young woman about nineteen years of ace, were soon after dug out dreadfully bruised and quite dead. A coloured man, a carter, was standing in the buil ding, but seeing his horse grow restive at the sound of the thunder, he ran towardshim but was caught by the falling wall and had both his legs badly broken, and his face and head severely cut. The ninth person in the house was Mr. Joseph Holt, a bricklayer, who had been engaged on the building, lie was in the third story, and when the house fell iie was thrown head foremost into a large heap ol mortar. Although to this circum stance may be attributed the preservation of his life his eye sight is irretrievably ruined by t • lime. The warehouse was owned by Messrs. Donnell aud Lurnian. It was lOOleet long by 30 wide aud three stories high The workmen commenced the roof on Saturday and laid but three rows ot slate. Its destruction was complete, the tornado scarcely leaving oue brick upon another. Some of the lumber was carried to the distance ol TOO feet. We learn that two small boy vessels were cap sized at the time near Fort McHenry. The hands on board of one escaped, hut a small boy was crushed to death between some lumber. Iu the cabin of the other vessel were a man and two boys who were taken out uninjured, shortly after the squall, by cutting a hole in the bosom of the ves sel. A part of the roof of the Philadelphia Rail road bridge at Canton was blown oft, and also the roof of the steam saw mill at Harris’ Creek. At the Depot at Canton the walls of the car house, which was burnt a few weeks ago, were blown and some other trilling damage sustained. Several sheds were unroofed at the ship yard of Messrs Cooper aud Abrahams. A part of the roof of a warehose on Ramsay's wharf was blown off. The ship General Smith, lying at Corner’s wbart broke from her moorings and was blown so violent ly against the wharf that she stove iu a portion ot her bow and carried away a part ol Iter bulwarks. Mr. Shaw the keeper ot the Lazaretto, who was returning home at the time of the squall, was together with his horse and carryall, blown over a fence and bruised considerably A part of the wall and roof of the large fish storing houses ou the South side ol the basin was blo'wu off. From the Southern Recorder. ' We have been amused at the war levied by our neighbor’s here, especially the Federal Union, on tiie Banks. We have laughed most heartily at their cry of aristocracy in connexion w ith them ; and have never, so long as they confined their warfare to denunciations ol the Rag Barons and Rag money, thought proper to put in a word in bar of their careei. if these papers were mad en ough, to hold up their o'.vn trum is, and their par ty leaders, as the aristocracy of the country, we have thought it none ot our-busniess, however un just we might suppose their course, to attempt to prevent them from riding over th nr own jiohti cal friends and associates. \\ e have, therefore, silently suffered tl»eu» to make themselves hoarse with their vociferations against tin* Bank aris tocrats, supuosing that we might ’hardly eveu be thanked by their friends, for defo.idmg tiiem from such charges. But when our neighbor ventures so far, as to identify the objects of his denunciation as of the State Rights party, that all the Bank aristocra cy against which it hurls its denunciations, arc of the party to which we are attached we must stop the nonsense, by turning tiie tables upon our neighbors—which we shall do. by showing if there really be such a thing as bank aristocracy in Geor gia, against which our neighbor so fiercely de claims, that Bank aristocracy is of its own party and our neighbors must come in for its full share of its own denunciations. Now to the proof. Who are the bank aristocracy of Georgia ? or, in other words, to what political party do those belong, who control the banking interestsofGeor gia ? Let us place the banks, and the amount of bank capital in Georgia paid in aud controlled by <■ gentlemen of each party, as seen by their presi ding head, side by side, aud then draw the bal ance ; Union Banks. Bank oftiie State of Georgia, id. 503,000 Planters, Bank, 259,000 Central Railroad Batik. 504,757 Marine and Fire Insurance Bank, 400,()<)0 Darien Bank, 651,050 Augusta Bank, (Union or neutral) 1,209,000 Mechanics’ Bank, 1,000,000 Georgia Railroad and Banking Company, 1,919,215 Western Bank, Rome, 119,750 Bank of Hawkiftsville, 200,000 Ocmulgee Bank, 150,000 Commercial Bank of Macon, 310,000 Forsyth Railroad Bank, 300,000 Planters and Mechanics’ Bank, Columbus, 250,000 Insurance Bank, Columbus, (hitherto and probably still Union.) 000,000 Total, 89,354,772 State Rights Banks Bank of St. Mary’s, 59,290 Insurance and Banking Company, Augusta, ■ 500.000 Bank of Milledgeville, 1 374.300 Bank of Columbus, * 400,000 Farmers Bank ofChattalioochic, 295,525 Total, $1,029,115 J!e c a r i t v nv n o 5 . . . Union Bank*, 9,354.772 State Rights Banks, 1,029,115 Balance in favor of Union Brinks, $7,725,657 Hallo, neighbors, this looks bad. according to your views ofthe subject; you seexu to have almost all 'the aristocracy together ou your side—-up- Wards of seven millions of capital in your favor ! The State Rights party seem to have but iittle connection either with tiie rag money or the Rag Baron aristocracy, lie seem to be very slightly tinged with the disease ; your party have it in its most virulent form. Our party sewn only to be (lea bitten, as it were—a spot of the disease here, and wide apart; your's seem to have it thick as the prickly heat, all over, from the crown of the head lothc sole ot the foot. \ c Bank Aristocrats, Ve Rag Barons! what shall we do with vou ? Your owm friends, our neighbors here, want to scrape you, as it were, with a potshered, and as they are your particular friends, it is not for us to object to the prescription. But what shall we do ; with the leader of our'Ueiglitior’s party in the Leg- ! islature, who is the aristocratic Baron, of one of ! the largest Rag Money machines in the .State ? \V hat does our neighbor propose to do with him ? Will he scrape him of his leprosv, or denounce him with his party ? Come neighbor, consisten cy you know is a jewel; wbat will you do in the premises ?---We think we can hear our neighbor, upon this view ofthe subject, clearlj exhibiting lust party as the delinquents—we think we ktjj him iu honest consistency w ith his late efforts, t‘ X . claming, “Oh ye Aristocratic, Bank, Rag money “Barons! Ye Union Democratic Republican “shavers ; who have so long controlled the bati “ing business ol the State. Ye have shaved lon<r “enough and shall shave no louger. Ye V a J! “Buren Jeffersonian, Anti-Abolition, shaving-sh uu “Aristocrats ; ye have already shaVed so elcaif “there is nothing left for the lazor! We corn’ “niaud you at least to stop your operations lor the “present: we pray you at least to stop lon<r “imugh to let the beard grow. By October,"the “crop will be pretty thick —you may then, if y ou “like, shave with a sickle, without molestation “from us : but till then, we must in all good eou “seienee denounce you. Ye Union Denioemtir “Republican, Rag Baron Aristocrats! Ye Jeflt! “ersonian. Van Buren, unconscionable shavers “who have barbarously shorn the beards of our “dearly beloved Democracy even without soap ’ “till next October the war is proclaimed, anj “friends though ye be, till then wears determined “to hold on to our beards, fearless of all conse “queuces.” What may be the consequences of such an in dependent course, on the part of our neighbor on the party concerned, and to which he is at tached, we will not undertake to say; perhaps lts only effect will be, the grow ing of beards, and the saving of soap. Be that as it may, (to which w« of course, are wholly indifferent;) wo nuist insist that when our neighbor next wars upon the Rank Aristocracy ol Georgia, that it will be fair ciiou di to inform its rvad-.-rs, that if such a rank exists m this State, it isconstituted principally, almost whol ly, of the members of its own party ; wiih this justice wc will he content, and w itli nothing less. From the Peni sylrctiim Sentinel The following is a graphic sketch of Mr. Van Buren, who is juttiv styled. “THE GREAT OVERRATED. If any man cat earned a title Martin Van Bn, reu richly deserves this. A small majority placed him in the Presidential chair but that high station he fills, instead of adding to his personal reputa tion has only made his littleness more conspicu ous. Circumstances and the influence of i arte folly, with but slight personal merit, have raised him t.i his present situation, lijs conduct (jefoni and since his election to the Presidency shows that his abilities have been overrated aodtliat it i.; to tiie force of party organization he owes his ele, vation. Though correctly described iikmy veaix ago hy De Witt Uhntutias a political grimalkin, mousing over petty schemes,” his subsidized press, of which tiie Globe is the leader ascribed to him the'lordly attributes ofthe lion and with a boldness which appears ridiculous when his tint character is considered praise the leader of their partv for his inflexible firmness. Mr. Van Huron was a!way* allowed to hr a crafty man, but not a great one in the early year ofkis life aud when his political efforts were con fined to the State of New York lie never exhib ited those marks of gonitis which characterizes a statesman. Ills chief talent seemed to lie iu his ability tosnuit tips points in wificlrilje public gaff would blow,. He only approved of the last way he saw that the voice of the nation w as decidedly in its favor. The famous Erie (’anal which has enriched New-York s<> wonderfully am) was omt oftiie noblest projects ever conceived by a states man Martin Van Buren opposed ii at its cummer, cement, ami finally gave it a reluctant approval, whe.il io have withhold ii his approbation, would have covered him with a political disgrace. When ine resigned iiisj saat in the Cabinet and addressed a letter Jo Geu. Jackson, ostensibly setting forth his reasons, the fulsome praise he bestowed on his master by declaring that it was glory enough for him to have served under such a cheif betray id the principles ofthe man. It was contemptible adulation, disgraceful to him as a republican and reflected no credit on hissugacitv. flic world could see through his base motives, and all honest men despised the titickling sveo paucy of an officer, who had held so responsible a place in the councils ofthe nation. la iiis instructions to oar Minister in England, he showed a want of attention to the true dignity ot the republic, and by ins humiliating directions, cast a shadow on the escutclnon ot our national honor, which it never received In-tbre. lie for got w hat belonged to the statesman, aud in his zeal to effect what ir* supposed would be a skil ful political manoeuvre, lost sight of that respect which every independent nation owes to itself. But his conduct was not confirmed bv «be Senate, when lnt was himself appointed as Minister, and his recall from England was the consequence. Supported however hy the influence and popuini ity oft rencral Jackson he contrived to turn his recall to his own benefit, and succeeded in reach ing the seat of \ ice Dresident. From that lie was by his party made the chief magistrate of the Na tion, and assumed the reins of government. When placed in a situation to direct the coun cils ol the nation, an opportunity was afforded Jitm for showing his ability and sagacity, by the policy adopted by liis administration. Never had any President more favorable citcuinstances for making his administration popular. His friends anticipated for him a most popular career; they raid he would disregard the evil counsels of what srasaptly termed the Kitchen Cabinet, and admin ister to the governmcn Ynr the interests ofthe whole people. The opposition wearied bv their unavailing e> onions, were content to lay down their arms, and trusting the assurance of his friends judge the President according to his policy and acts. Scarcely had Mr. Van Buren been seated to the Presidential chair before the suspension of specie payments took place—a eatasrophe which lie had not the shrewclnessfo foresee, and the con sequences of which though imperatively called on by the situation ofthe country, lie took no measures to avert. It was for Mr. Van Burn? first to announce substantially that the interest ofthe Government and People were separate, — that Government had no authority to interfere with the currency for the purpose of coutroling and regulating it, —that the Government should have oue currency while the people enjoyed an other, and that in the midst of embarrassment and distress while tiie people were asking for re lief the Government would take care of itself, while the people should be left to take care of themselves. —'l iiese were the (final sentiments of the Presi dent. Surely his integrity and his sagacity bud been overrated, lor he made political blunders as well as crimes. During the extra session of Congress but little adequate to the exigences of the country was ef fected by the administration. Its immediate wants were relieved by the issue of Treasury Notes, but no relief Was given to the mercantile community- At the regular session of.Congress, the cold and heartless policy of the Admanistratiou w as persis?