Mr. White is good company, a good story-teller, and a ter ror to all hypochondriacism and dyspepsia. Blessed are they who hear his voice and see his face, for they shall laugh and grow fat. I am no stickler for empty dignity, but remain under the impression that Mr. W. is not so dignified at the fireside as he is in the forum. There are vulgar persons who call him the Hon. Philip S. White when they speak of his public efforts, and yet abbreviate the title to Phil. in their personal interourse with him. He is no favorite with those who will not "give up a 'pint' of doctrine nor a pint of rum," for as the bottle-imp of Asmodeus unroofed the houses of Madrid, for the gratification of Le Sage's servant, so he uncovers the hearts of those whose bigotry or appetite or interest oppose the temperance reformation. Mr. White is by profession a lawyer, and, if I am correctly informed, was at one period of his life Attorney-General of one of the Western Territories. He is proud of his lineage, and is not backward in speaking about his former position in society, which is in bad taste, since he is now in a loftier position than any Baronet of England.

The fraternity, I think, manifested forecast worthy of their trust when they selected him to be their leader, for his abundant self-sacrificing and faithful labors in this country and in the neighboring Provinces, have accomplished incalculable good to the cause in general, and won unfading laurels for him in particular. He is the author of a work entitled the "War of Four Thousand Years," and a tract entitled "Vindication of the Order." It is a pity that he did not give a more Christian name to the first, and a matter of regret that he went

into partnership with others in writing either. His admirers would like to see a book from his own pen, and know that he wrote it. His idea of a national newspaper organ, to be managed by some master-mind of the National Division, does not meet with general approval, because it would be unwise to put such power into the hands of one man, because it would narrow the circulation of the local papers to the starving point; because one sheet would not suit every meridian; because the temperance press now in operation is not properly sustained; because there is as much editorial tact and talent connected with the local press as can be found in the National Division; because monopolies are monsters not favorable to the growth of Love, Purity, or Fidelity, the characteristics of our Order.

CHARLES SUMNER.

NEW YORK is the head-quarters of commerce, a great wil derness of marble and mortar, the abode of merchant princes and millionaires. Its harbor is crowded with ships from every nation, its mammoth mercantile establishments contain every variety of fabric and produce, its streets are busy as a broken ant-heap, its spires point, like fingers of pilgrims, to the land of the beautiful above, and its grog-shops are plentiful as carbuncles on the face of the toper. It has the best editors, and the poorest speakers, of any city in the Union. Philadelphia is noted for handsome buildings erected on straight lines. It is the metropolis of magazinedom, where Graham and Godey make gold and win golden honors. It is famed for the brotherly love of its inhabitants, which trait is beautifully displayed in the manner in which they get up rows and send their fellow-citizens to Heaven. Boston is the bank of New-England, the beacon-light of reform, the seat of science and learning, the forum of chaste, classical, thrilling, heart-quaking, soul-stirring eloquence. There is no city in the United States that contains so much speaking talent as Boston. Baltimore is choleric, noisy, and patriotic; Philadelphia is fastidious, lymphatic, and metaphysical; Washington is like Babel, where there is a confusion of languages, or like a vineyard of lazy laborers, where

there is a winey" atmosphere; New York is energetic, bombastic, and original; Cincinnati is slow of speech, but sound at the heart; Boston is radical, forcible, eloquent.

Among the most eminent speakers in the modern Athens, Charles Sumner stands preeminently conspicuous, for the classic elegance of his style, the Protean power of his thought, and the finished beauty of his illustrations. He is one of the most remarkable men of this remarkable age, and a combination of circumstances have rendered him the darling favorite of good fortune. He was cradled in Faneuil Hall, Judge Story was his teacher, and Harvard University the school in which he was taught. When he had availed himself of the advantages afforded by this institution of learning, he made the tour of the continent. England, France and Germany contributed liberally to his store of knowledge. If he has not an ample competence, he has what is better— an army of friends and a thorough education.

Charles Sumner is a stockholder in the bank of original thought. We may know he has considerable bullion there, for his drafts are honored at sight, and our first men are his endorsers. He has great power of condensation, without the wearisome monotony which often accompanies the writings and sayings of close thinkers and rigid reasoners. There is a

vigorous and graceful stateliness, an easy felicity, a fastidious accuracy, and an imperial dignity in his style, which is both commanding and fascinating. There is a vast breadth of comprehension and a vast depth of meaning in his matter. There is also a luminous beauty, a Gothic grandeur, a sublime gorgeousness, in his labored and polished essays, which entitle

them to the appellation of prose poems. He sometimes invests his ideas in such lively, such attractive, such speaking, such magic language, and displays so much philosophical sagacity, so much poetical sensibility, so much profound knowledge of ecclesiastical and political history, the reader and the listener are carried away on the current, while they are admiring, almost adoring, the man whose kindling words have set their imaginations on fire.

Mr. Sumner's orations are written with great care. They abound with allusions to the sayings and doings of the ancients, and manifest deep research and profound thought. His brilliant arguments at the bar have elicited unbounded admiration, and his model manner of delivery enhances the value of his eloquent appeals. The dreary desert of a common case is sure to bloom with garden beauty under his management. The forum, however, is his forte. He has the dignity of Pitt, without his pompous declamation; the sublimity of Burke, without his tedious uniformity; the vigor of Fox, without his roughness. He is not so fluent as the first, not so classical as the second, not so ready and original as the third. He has more solidity but less eloquence than Phillips; more energy but less originality than Mann; more poetry and as much polish as Everett. His heart is not an island, separated from his head, but a peninsula, uniting one with the other. There is a relationship between the throb of the former and the thought of the latter. There is a joining of impulse and intellect. The affections and the reflections are brothers and sisters. The heart thinks and feels, the head feels and thinks.