But I know your firm devotion,

And I now await your motion,
Confident of your decision,
Knowing well what you will do;
And may God who ruleth o'er us
Guard and guide, and go before us,
Give us strength amid the conflict,

Bear us all the struggle through!"

We have given thus compactly,

Though it may be not exactly,

What good Captain Woodward uttered,

What the moderator said;

But the open signs betoken

That the deacon must have spoken

Just about as we have stated,
Under the foregoing head.

There was no reporter's table,
And we therefore are not able,
Here on this our centenary,

To repeat him word for word;
But the evidence internal

Is a kind of "Newton Journal,"

And that speech of Captain Woodward,
All those Newton voters heard.

For there was a full attendance,
And they voted INDEPENDENCE

By a hand-vote, viva voce,

Or some way to voters known ;

And by their united action,

Free from all debate and faction,

That day's work no doubt assisted

To upset the British throne.

Who it was that made that motion,
Reaching thus across the ocean,

Or who seconded the measure,

Cannot certainly be told;

And no ancient record teaches

Who got up and made those speeches :
Pity there were no reporters

In those simple days of old!

If we had some little taper

In the shape of morning paper,

Dated Tuesday, June the eighteenth,
Seventeen hundred seventy-six,
As those times were stern and solemn,
Possibly the base-ball column

Could have been a trifle crowded

Those small paragraphs to fix.

But against our base-ball players,

Let us not be found gainsayers:

They can show their killed and wounded,

Even in these days of peace;

And by their productive labor,

Each club betting with its neighbor,
They may raise our low finances,

Make our corn and oil increase.

But although our knowledge reaches.
Not to motives, acts, and speeches,

And while many minor matters
Cannot certainly be known,

What those Newton farmers voted,

Word for word can still be quoted;

And they pledged their lives and fortunes,

Every thing they called their own.

So they broke the chains that bound them,
Burst the network woven round them,
And with high, uplifting purpose,

Dared to tread their unknown way:
Let us learn what they have taught us,
Prize the heritage they bought us,
And recount their ancient virtues

On this glad Centennial Day.

The next incident in the order of proceedings was the presentation to the city of a crayon portrait of Col. JOSEPH WARD, from citizens of Newton; which duty was gracefully executed by Mr. WILLIAM C. BATES, in the following address:

MR. MAYOR AND FELLOW-CITIZENS,- The late Mr. Francis Jackson, one of a family renowned for the best qualities of good citizenship, and one whose lightest suggestion will be received by a Newton audience with great respect, has left upon the last page of his history of Newton these words referring to Col. Joseph Ward, who was born in Newton in 1737, and who died early in the present century: "The public services and private virtues of Col. Ward ought to be remembered and perpetuated in some either by a monument to his memory, or otherwise. I leave to the citizens of his native town this suggestion for their consideration." It is not often, fellow-citizens, that good words fitly spoken bear fruit even in twenty years; but these of our local historian to-day are ripening.

way,

This crayon portrait of Col. Joseph Ward has been executed at the instance of several gentlemen of Newton;