ON THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT HARRISON President William H. Harrison died April 4, 1841. At a meeting of the citizens of Buffalo, April 13th, Mr. Fillmore being called upon by the chair to announce the objects of the meeting, “rose and spoke nearly in the following words": MR. CHAIRMAN: At your request, I arise with more sorrow than language can express, to announce the objects of this meeting. I regret that a hesitancy between the city authorities and citizens, as to which should move first, has delayed it so long. We have all heard the painful, heartrending intelligence of the death of the Chief Magistrate of these United States. But a few short weeks since, I saw this venerable man in the vigor of health, standing as it were, at the altar of his country, surrounded by the representatives of foreign nations, and thousands and tens of thousands of his own fellow-citizens, to dedicate himself to his country's service. Methinks I now see his venerable form, I hear his strong, clear and emphatic voice, as he appeals to God in taking the solemn oath prescribed by the Constitution-and the joyous acclamations of the assembled multitude, that rent the skies, still ring in my ears. But alas! how transient is all worldly glory-how vain are all human hopes. This idol of a nation's admiration, this object of a nation's aspirations, is no more. William Henry Harrison, the hero, the statesman and the patriot, who has inscribed his name on the brightest page of our history, sleeps the sleep of death. Every paper comes clad in the dark shade of mourningevery countenance bears the impress of sorrow and bereavement, and every breeze swells with the anguish of a sorrowing nation. All political strife is hushed-all party malice lies buried in the grave of the deceased. The ways of Providence are inscrutable. As mortals, as Christians, we bow to this awful dispensation without a murmur. Heaven only knows why it was best. Our duty is not to inquire, but submit. May it not have been to teach a lesson of humility and moderation-to soften the asperity of political warfare, and chasten the inordinate longings of ambition? But this is no time to moralize, or speak of the merits of the deceased. All hearts are now filled with grief. I hope that some person present may be prepared with some resolutions expressive of the sense of this meeting on this melancholy occasion-and some suggestions as to the most proper mode of testifying our respect for the virtues of the deceased, and our sorrow at this national calamity. A WELCOME TO EX-PRESIDENT JOHN QUINCY ADAMS When it was known that ex-President Adams would visit Buffalo in July, 1843, a citizens' committee was organized to arrange for a suitable reception. Mr. Fillmore's name headed the list. On July 26th, the Buffalo deputation met Mr. Adams at Schlosser, above Niagara Falls, accompanied him by boat to Buffalo and escorted him to the Park, now Lafayette Square, where Mr. Fillmore welcomed him to the city in the following words: SIR: I have been deputed by the citizens of this place to tender you a welcome to our city. In the discharge of this grateful duty, I feel that I speak not only my own sentiments, but theirs, when I tell you that your long and arduous public services, your lofty independence, your punctilious attention to business, and, more than all, your unsullied and unsuspected integrity, have given you a character in the estimation of this republic, which calls forth the deepest feelings of veneration and respect. You see around you, sir, no political partisans seeking to promote some sinister purpose; but you see here assembled the people of our infant city, without distinction of party, sex, age or condition, all-all-anxiously vying with each other to show their respect and esteem for your public services and private worth. Here, sir, are gathered in this vast multitude of what must appear to you strange faces, thousands whose hearts have vibrated to the chord of sympathy which your written |