Nearly equal to this was the enthusiasm elicited by the appearance of an open carriage, drawn by four grays, and containing only two men, wellnigh ninety years of age, then the sole survivors, in the State of Massachusetts, of those who fought in the War of Independence.  It is the custom to shew honour to the survivors of that event on all public occasions.  On the 4th of July last, the last public gathering, there were four in the carriage:  two are gone.  Before the carriage, was carried the banner of Washington, used in the struggle.  When these old men raised their withered hands to remove their hats, in reply to the welcome of the crowd, they appeared like spirits of the past.  In all probability, they will not appear in public again; but the fruits of their courage will live for ever.  The appropriateness and beauty of the arrangement of details were remarkable in the representation of the particular trades.  The most imposing objects were the two new locomotives, shining brilliantly in their might of brass and steel, and richly painted; and as they loomed in sight, turning the bends of the streets, they were truly magnificent and appropriate objects.  Each was raised upon a car, so that, on the whole, it was thirty feet high; it was drawn by eighteen iron-gray horses, all in line, decorated with blue ribbons, and handsomely caparisoned; each horse being led by a workman, in clean, new, working costume.  The next was a procession on foot.  Eight negroes, in Eastern costume, walked as guards round a platform, carried palanquin-fashion by four negroes, with 5000 ounces of manufactured silver-plate, built up in a pyramid, and forming a splendid object, fully equal in workmanship to anything of the kind I have seen.  A very interesting part of the pageant was the children of the different schools, in four-wheeled cars, covered with drapery, and decorated with flowers and plants; and it was really pleasing to see the happy little creatures enjoying such a holiday as they would never forget.  It is impossible to give a third of the details of this unique procession; but I cannot omit to notice the last feature—­the labourers on their truck-horses.  These were the carmen of the town.  Their clean, healthy, happy faces, with their glossy horses, decorated with ribbons, made me regard them as the best and proudest cavalry a nation could have.  These are all men who, a very short time since, landed from the Old World—­fugitives from misery and starvation.

I had a ticket offered me for the banquet, but I preferred being outside among the people.  I have had enough of dinner-speeches in my time, although this occasion was one of peculiar interest.  The Park continued to be crowded to excess; and as the company arrived, they were greeted by the people and the bands of music stationed here and there.  But what sound is that?  They are drinking toasts within; and one is now given which stirs the vast multitude like an electrical shock.  I cannot hear at first, the roar is so