a vindication repelling the charge of apostasy from democratic principles, comprised in forty-eight octavo pages. In 1814 Mr. White removed to Sutton, where he married a second wife, Susan Johonnot, a daughter of Dr. Stephen Monroe, Aug. 13, 1815. He returned to Worcester in 1816, and, during the last years of his life, owing to an organic disease, the dropsy,-a mortal paleness overspread his countenance, and he died May 2, 1818, aged 41.

Through the whole of his active and singular career, the irrepressible love of the drama was his ruling passion. The Clergyman's Daughter, by Mr. White, a play founded on McKenzie's Man of the World, was first acted on the Boston stage Jan. 1, 1810, was published, and received with great favor. In December of that year Mr. White produced The Poor Lodger, a comedy (adopting the incidents of Evelina, an exquisite tale by Miss Burney), which was also published. He was an editor of the National Ægis.

Mr. Lincoln remarks of him, in the History of Worcester, from which a large portion of this sketch is condensed, that he possessed a high grade of talent which is called genius. In Mr. White's addresses at the bar, there were splendid passages of eloquence; but they were unequal, although parts were strong, they were not connected, with logical method and clearness. His taste was refined and correct. Greater constancy and perseverance might have raised him to high rank in many of the departments of forensic exertion, literary effort, or dramatic exhibition.

ALEXANDER TOWNSEND.

JULY 4, 1810. FOR THE TOWN AUTHORITIES.

In the oration of Mr. Townsend, we find a happy allusion to a prediction advanced in Smith's Wealth of Nations: "The tree of our republican liberty, like the fabled myrtle of Æneas, sinks its roots in blood. To agitate it extremely, might disturb the repose of our fathers. Like Polydore, they would cry to us from the ground,

That every drop this living tree contains

Is kindred blood, and ran in patriotic veins."

Let us rally under its branches. Its leaves are healing to the taste. Transatlantic genius long since predicted, when we were one in government with Britain, that in little more than a century, perhaps, American taxation would be more productive than British, and the seat of empire change."

"Riot robbed glory of scarcely a life," says Mr. Townsend. "Not a drop of the blood that was poured out for liberty could be spared for licentiousness. Little mob violence disgraced our proceedings. The din of arms could not drown the voice of law. Men, hurrying on to liberty, still stopped to do homage to justice. The fifth of March, 1770, while it did much to establish our independence, did more to prove we were worthy of it. The very soldiers, viewed in the most odious light, as members of a standing army quartered upon us in time of peace, whose firing upon the populace produced death and liberty, were almost immediately, by that populace, and for that firing, solemnly, deliberately and righteously, acquitted of murder. My friends, this is the greatest glory in our history, the brightest gem in our national diadem. Brutes have passions; men should govern them. We have another instance. In the temple of justice a voice was afterwards heard: 'I will this day die soldier, or sit judge;' and then was suddenly expressed what since, thank God, has proved a permanent feature of the New England judiciary."

Alexander Townsend was born in Boston, and son of David Townsend, formerly a watch-maker in State-street. He graduated at Harvard College in 1802, read law under the eminent Samuel Dexter, was an attorney of Suffolk bar in 1806, and soon became a counsellorat-law. He was an unmarried man. After the delivery of the oration at the head of this article, the following sentiment was given for the orator of the day, by the president, at the dinner in Faneuil Hall :

May the principles he has this day eulogized long have the support of his talents and his eloquence." Mr. Townsend gave, on this occasion, “Faneuil Hall: May it never rock to sleep the independence it created."

Mr. Townsend was a large owner of real estate in Boston; and was proprietor of the Marlboro' Hotel, originally a dark, unsightly building, which he remodelled in handsome style; and, when advertising the edifice to let, informed those who complained that the building was deficient in light that they had better blame their eyes than the edifice. Mr. Townsend was warmly interested in the political topics

of the day, and frequently engaged in active debate at Faneuil Hall; but was not a popular speaker, more because of his uncouth, declamatory manner, than for want of forcible argument. He died in Boston, April 13, 1835, aged 51 years.

DANIEL WALDO LINCOLN.

JULY 4, 1810. FOR THE BUNKER HILL ASSOCIATION.

WAS son of Levi Lincoln, and born in Worcester, March 2, 1784; graduated at Harvard College in 1803, on which occasion he delivered a poem on "Benevolence." He studied law with his father, settled in Portland, Me., and was appointed by Gov. Sullivan the county attorney of Cumberland; he removed to Boston in 1810, and returned to Portland in 1813. The early decease of the beautiful Miss Caldwell, of Worcester, to whom he was engaged, shortened his days. He was a brother of Governor Lincoln. He died April 17, 1815.

The Bunker Hill Association was originated on the brow of the battle-field, in Charlestown, July 4, 1808, in consequence, probably, of the refusal of the Federal selectmen of Boston to permit the Republican party the use of Faneuil Hall, for the celebration of our national independence, thus subjecting them to the necessity of obtaining a church, or public hall, for several years; which elicited the forthcoming sentiment at the public festival, July 4, 1810, after the delivery of the oration by D. W. Lincoln: "The Republican Orator of the Day: Well might his enemies endeavor to obstruct his passage to a rostrum; the name of Cicero was not more dreadful to the Catilines of Rome than is that of Lincoln to the Essex Junto."

The oration pronounced this day, and another, delivered at Worcester, July 4, 1808, are the only printed memorials of this writer of fine rhetorical power. "Tyrants, beware!" commences our orator, in the peroration. "Dare not to invade the sacred rights chartered to nature's children by nature's God! Dare not to provoke the vengeance of valor, the indignation of virtue, the anathema of Heaven! Restrain the savage myrmidons of thy power from the sacrilegious violation of peace, the prostration of law, the destruction of estate, and

the sacrifice of life! Such were the dictates of reason, ere usurping pride trampled on the prerogatives and immunities of freemen. Such were the arguments of justice, ere legislative voracity wrested from the stubborn hand of labor the wages of toilsome industry. Such were the petitions of loyalty, ere wanton cruelty had curdled the mantling blood of kindred affection, or annulled the hallowed obligation of filial submission. Such were the entreaties of humanity, ere the ministers of royal barbarity were unleashed, ere ruin revelled at his harvest home, or death celebrated his carnival." There were present at its delivery John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, and Governor Gerry, signers of the Declaration of Independence; H. G. Otis, President of the Senate, and Perez Morton, Speaker of the House. Without doubt, the abrupt outbreak of the orator prompted the men of power to gaze at him, as the audience involuntarily cast their eyes upon. them, desiring to know who were rebuked. We will cite another passage from the one at this date, in which our orator enlarges on the direful effects of party strife: "Like the enchantment of Circe's baleful cup, party spirit has transformed mankind, unmoulding reason's mintage. It has frozen the current of the heart, and paralyzed the pulses of love. Friendship meets a stranger in forgotten sympathy; fraternity turns aside from alienated affection; and parental tenderness petrifies in filial estrangement. The demon of party spirit has pervaded even to the penetralia, and subverted the altars of the Penates, while, enthroned on the ruins, he triumphs in domestic discord. Party spirit has invaded places most sacred, reverend and holy; has polluted the judgment-seat, and profaned the temples of the Most High. History points to her sanguine leaf, the mournful memorial of party. rage. See Marius' spear reeking with gore! Behold, expiring breath lingers on Sylla's blade! Can the drops be numbered that fall from Julius' sword? Can the stains be scoured from Antonius' helm? Mark the rose dripping with blood, where brother falls beneath a brother's hand, where man is unhumanized, and the savage is fleshed in kindred carnage! Father of mercies! let not such be the destiny of my country! Let not the evening star go down in blood! Education can unlock the clasping charm, and thaw the murmuring spell of party spirit. By informing man how little man can know, it will relax the dogmatical pertinacity of ignorance, and infuse a temper of candor and kind conciliation; not the obsequious conciliation which receives and adopts errors, but that which forgives them."

JAMES SAVAGE.

JULY 4, 1811. FOR THE TOWN AUTHORITIES.

In the peroration of the eloquent performance of Mr. Savage, we have a remonstrance against the commercial encroachments of Napoleon, at the very period when he was the most powerful despot in the world, which evinces a manly and patriotic spirit.

"Can we be deluded, my countrymen," says Mr. Savage, "out of our liberties by him who announces that 'the Americans cannot hesitate as to the part which they are to take;' who declares that 'we ought either to tear to pieces the act of our independence,' or coincide with his plans; who implicitly calls our administration 'men without just political views, without honor, without energy;' and who threatens them that it will be necessary to fight for interest, after having refused to fight for honor'? Shall the emperor, who is no less versed in the tactics of desolation than in the vocabulary of insult and the promises of perfidy, deceive our government by assertions that 'His Majesty loves the Americans,' their prosperity and their commerce are within the scope of his policy? We knew before that his political magazine contains rattles for babies, as well as whips for cowards. Our commerce has, indeed, long been within the scope of his policy, as our merchants and mariners will forever remember. His Majesty, no doubt, does love the Americans, as the butcher delights in the lamb he is about to slaughter, as the tiger courts the kid he would mangle and devour. For such promises, the sacrifice of honor, of interest, of peace, of liberty, and of hope, is required. For such promises, some are willing to stir up former national antipathies, and, when these are too weak for their purpose, to employ new artifices of treachery, to excite the passions of those who are slow to reason; while others promote the design by reproaching opponents with idle words, and threatening them with empty menaces. If Heaven has abandoned us to be so deceived into ruin, on some future anniversary of our national existence we may exclaim, with Antony, in the bitterness of despair: