The Sun.
London, England, 1841-07-01 00:00:00

noble capital of Scotland without a thrill of gratitude
and pleasure. I shall love while I have life her people,
her hills, and her houses, and even the very stones of
her streets ; and if in the future works which may lie
before me you should discern—God grant you may—a
brighter spirit and a clearer wit, I pray you to refer it
%A to this night, and point to that as a Scottish pas-
sage for ever more.—(Loud cheers.) I thank you again
and again for the honour you have done me, and I drink
to you all with a heart as full as my glass, and far less
easily. emptied, I assure you.—(Great laughter and
cheering.)
The CHAIRMAN then gave " The Lord Provost and
Magistrates of the City," which was acknowledged by
the Lord Provost. _

The CROUPIER then rose and said, I beg leave to
ben the few observations which I have now to lay be- I
for/ you, by repeating a remark of the Chairman, which
must have struck every one as well founded—l mean as
to the .peculiar time which has been chosen to receive
our distinguished guest at a public entertainment. His
visit to Scotland necessarily fixed the period. But even
had thera been no other reason, I presume to think the
time hes been happily chosen, because, in these clays of
turmoil, we can all meet here, not merely as in a truce,
but on the common ground of generous sympathy and
admiration ; for our illuitrioue guest has struck a
chord to which every generous besorn must respond.
—(Hear, hear, and cheers.) Although the toast as-
signed to me is, I am sorry to say, a memory, it is not
a memory of that kind which is likely to interfere
with those feelings of generous enthusiasm and admira-
tion which throb in the heart not only of every Scots-
man, hut of every man of sentiment and feeling. The
time has now passed away, when the memory of Scott
Mould be received with saddened brow. It is now un-
necessary to receive the annunciation of this toast with
the stifled murmur of the muffled dram. It should ra-
ther be sounded by the loudest blasts of the trumpet of
fame, re-echoed by every rock of his native land.—
(Great applause.) We return after the lapse of time to
the nomination of that great man, as the worshipper of
nature revisits the scenes of his early association—
" Unwearied in that service,
Rather say with warmer love—
Oh, with far deeper zeal of holier love."—(Cheers.)
Of the merits or Scott, it would be presumptuous and idler
for any man to talk at the present time. When he arose,
although the soil had yielded some fruit in 'fiteraeure
and science—although we could boast of Robertson, ind
Hume, and Smith—although we could point to one
-wondrous boy, who, in glory and in joy, had followed
his plough upon the mountain side—(Applause)—still
the rugged soil was but ill cultivated. It was left fol•._
Scott, however,-to make of our rugged rocks a bloefaing
garden, "in which immortal amaranths and palms
abound." By the power of his early poetrs he drew
aside the veil by which our misty mountains were
concealed from the eye of the stranger. As a writer
be roused the noblest sentiments of the chivalry of
the olden time. As a delineator of Scottish charac-
ter, he has made all our virtues, all our follies, and
perhaps our vices—but with a kindly hand, open and
known to the world. If, however, it be idle to praise him
as a writer, it is still more idle to speak of him as a pri-
vate individual in his " own romantic town." That
great and good man, who had spread benevolence and
kindness around him, has been lost, not only to the so-
ciety of Edinburgh, but to the world. His spirit, how-
ever, still lives amongst us—it hovers over us at this
hour. With a dissection perhaps unexampled, all his
thoughts and actions have been laid bare to the world ;
and has he not stood the test ?—(Cheers.) Of all his qua-
lities, perhaps his generosity of character, and his utter
want of jealousy of the works of others, were the most
remarkable. With what enthusiasm and cordiality
would the author of Waverley have hailed the ad-
'vent of the author of the " Pickwick Papers."—(Great
applause.) With what delight would the author of
" Kenilworth " have greeted the author of " Oliver
Twist ;" and with what keenness would he have looked
'with his piercing eye to see " Humphrey's Clock" about
to strike again.—(Hear, hear.) To compare Mr. Dickens
with Sir Walter Scott would be to insult both your un-
stantlings and his own taste and feelings. But this at
least I will say, that he is a faithful follower in the same
path. His writings are characterised throughout by the
same fresh and ceaseless admiration of external nature,
the same kind and generous sympathy with all the
noblest and best feelings of the human heart,
the same tenderness and truth, and the same
powerful anfi quick discrimination of character. It would
indeed be delightful to see brought together some of
their best creation. I should just like to see assembled
in one association Caleb Balderstone shaking hands with
Sammy Weller—(Laughter)—Davy Gellatly jumping
with delight to meet his brother Barnaby Budge; and
to observe with what sympathy and kindly affection
poor Jeanie Deans would have looked upon the unfor-
tunate Nelly.—(Loud and tremendous cheering.) Or
to take another illustration in a comic vein, if he
could have got a peep into Do-the-Boy's Hall, can you
have any doubt that Dominie Sampson would have
exclaimed " Prodigious !"—(Great laughter.) This, it may
be said, is a strange way of proposing a memory; but
I am sure you will all beleve it proceeds from no want
of respect for the glorious name of Scott. Such a feel-
ing can exist in the breast of no one, least of all in that
of any individual whose pride it is to have taken by the
hand the most illustrious man of his age and country.
Let us imitate him at least in the spirit of genuine hospi-
tality, in the admiration of genius from whatever quarter
it comes, and in veneration for all that is good and
great. I know not whether the toast should be drank
in solemn silence or with acclamation ; but I think it
will not check the enthusiasm with which it has been
received should some of my friends comply with my re-
quest of following it up by the heart-stirring glee of
Roderick Vich Alpine Dhu.—(The toast was then drank
with applause ; alter which a party of gentlemen com-
plied with Mr. Robertson's request.)
Mr. ADAM BLACK, who, on rising, was loudly cheered,
said—Mr. Chairman, the subject which has been en-
trusted to me is one of such boundless extent., and
reaches so far back into the dark recesses of antiquity,
that it might have deterred even a learned doctor from
making it the theme of a toast. I suppose, however,
the Committee thought that a member of that craft
which has been said to drink their wine out of the skulls
of the learned, was bound on this occasion to attempt to
acknowledge his obligations to his benefactors, by giving
the " Universities of Great Britain and Ireland."—(Loud '
cheers.) But it is not particular classes only that have
been benefited by the Universities of our country. The
benign influence of literature and science and morality
has flowed from them through all the ramifications of
society, advancing civilization, promoting the arts, and
elevating the character of the country.—(Cheers.) The
venerable Universities of Oxford and Cambridge can
boast of having continued diffusing the light of science
for 200 years before the earliest of our Scottish Univer-
sities was founded.—(Cheers.) To Oxford belongs the
transcendent glory of having educated, and placed in the
Chair of Divinity the man who shook to its foundations
the spiritual despotism which then enthralled Europe,
and who first opened the fountains of Divine truth to
his countrymen by translating the Scriptures into the
mother tongue—the intrepid Wickliffe—in defence of
what he considered truth, braved that power before
which the proudest of our Kings quailed.—(Loud cheers.)
The English Universities are entitled to the distinction
of more magnificent colleges, more wealthy endowments,
and a greater host of learned Professors and alumni ; but
I hope I shall be excused if, either from ignorance or
national partiality, I give the preference to the more re-
cent end less richly endowed Universities of Scotland,
especially to that which is the pride of our own city,
which numbers among its professors our distinguished.
Chairman—(Loud cheering)—and other names illustri-
. -ous not only in Britain, but in the world of literature,
and the chairs of which have been occupied by a succes-
aion of great men, who have raised its reputation to the
highest pitch, to be transmitted, we trust, with undimi-
nished lustre to future ages.—(Cheering.) Nature has
denied to Scotland a genial climate and a fruitful soil—
but she has been richly compensated by the educational
advantages of her schools and Universities, which have
raised the character and intelligence of her inhabitants
so as to fit them for stations of the highest responsibility
in every department, and they are fouud in every quarter
of the globe promoting their own respectability, and
benefiting the human race by the practical effects of
the science and literature derived from our educational
. institutions.—(Loud cheering.) It is the glory of
thatthe
Scottish Universities, that they are open to all ;
none are excluded by sectarian tests—that the terms
of admission are so easy as to render them accessible to
he humble ranks—that the sons of the small farmer
and the mechanic are seen to vie with the sons of the
wealthy landlord and the Peer for Univetersityf distinctions
—(Cheers)—that the prejudice of cas
thgowt adepts
and e s ents
and townsmen—is almost unknown ;
and the other sections of the population are so blended
together, as not only to live on friendly terms,
reciprocating their information, so that the be but, by
benefits of
the University are spread among the other members of
thQ community.—(Renewed cheers.) We Icoobni..-
.- son, when a student at the University of Glaerotln,
sulting with Watt, the mechanic,—ench :vests 1„;
the
other in hrhyeing to maturity the wondrous inv.ei'itieft)nte-
which are nowgaiiling such iacaiculable power over
ter, and promoting to such an astonishing extent
commercial. pursuits of the world—an extent which is
yet unknown.—(Protracted cheers.) But I fear that if
I have the honour of speaking in the presence of any
natives of the Emerald Isle, that they may complain that
I have not done justice to Ireland.—(Hear, hear.) I
beg, however, to assure you, Sir, that if I am to blame
on this head, it is not intentional, but solely because I
cannot do her that justice which she deserves.—
(Cheers.) If she possesses but one University, and
that only acquired about four centuries after the esta-
blishment of the great English Colleges, yet her histo-
rians claim for her the honour of having been the Uni-
e-ersity of Europe during the early ages of Christianity,
and the claims aro not unfounded ; for the number of
learned and holy men whom she furnished to the world a
that time, earned for her the honourable name of the Isle of
Saints- —(Cheers)—and as her population has greatly in-
creased, we are warranted in calculating that her phi-
losophers and saints, though occasionally a little uproari-
ous, have multiplied at least in the same proportion.—
(Great laughter and cheers.) As I have trespassed so
long upon your time, I must draw to a close by giving,
not the Rose, the Thistle, and the Shamrock. but the
Universities of Great Britain and Ireland.—(The toast
was drunk with all the honours.)
Professor ALISON returned thanks for the honour con-
ferred on the Universities of Great Britain and Ireland.—

(Cheers.) He was sure they all knew that their distin-
guished guest was an adept in the science of human na-
ture, which was akin to moral philosophy. He possessed
one quality which medical men might envy—the power
of solacing and soothing the tedious hours of sickness
and disease.--(Loud cheers.) He was sure that one and
ail of them were happy in having the opportunity of
paying homage to the genius of theirdistinguished guest,
and of expressing their gratitude to him for the great
amount of
finnocent amusement which he had conferred
hi countr),r he might say many millions, of
4114.wGreat cheering.)

Mr. CHARLES NEAVES, advocate, said, they were met
there this night to do honour to one great master in one
great department of imaginative delineation—let them
not then forget to do justice at the same time to the sister
art of poetry.—(Cheers.) He a4ked the meeting to give
their tribute of applause to the names of Wordsworth,
Campbell, and Moore.—(Loud cheers.) After alluding
to the times of Shakspeare, Spencer, Waller, Cowell,
Cowper, and Burns, the Learned Gentleman said the
soil of our country in the present days was not less pro-
ductive of poetical genius than in past times, as a proof
of which he need only mention the names of Words-
worth, Southey, Cowper, Byron, Scott, Rogers, Meore,
Campbell, Wilson—(Loud and prolonged cheers)—and
Moir—a longer list than any which had ever concen-
trated their rays in one blaze of beauty.—(Renewed
cheers.) Mr. Weaves concluded an eloquent speech, by
asking the company to drink the names of Wordsworth,
Campbell. and Moore, and the long list of contemporaries
of which their country could boast.—(The toast was
drunk with the greatest enthusiasm.)
Mr. J. T. GORDON, in proposing the Memory of
Burns, said, he had no feeling of sorrow—he had no
words of melancholy preface to utter, in asking a cup of
tributary respect to Robert Burns. On the contrary, it
was with a pride, which, though national, he yet knew
to be 'so just and true, that he exulted in it, and with an
enthusiasm which perhaps only a Scotsman could Un-
derstand ; although none knoWing the kindness and gen-
tleness and at the same time the manliness of Burns,
would appreciate that enthusiasm better than their dis-
tinguished guest. Surely it needed nothing to recom-
mend the memory of him, whose memory was as green
at that moment as the leaves were then on his own banks
of Doon, and which flowed as freely through the width
and length of the land as the waters of his beloved Nith.
He was a man, that would have been of mark in auy
way. Born of that stalwart race—our country's honour
—inured to their hardships, accustomed to their toils, it
might have so pleased Heaven, that he should have passed
his life the admiration of his village, for
" The might that slumbered in a peasant's arm."
But it was otherwise decreed. And when the air of
poetry moved the latent strings in his heart, beautifully
and swelling came over a whole people the strains that
showed

" The might that slumbered in a peasant's soul."
The fabled horse of old struck out with his hoof a foun-
tain from which the Muses drank ; but when this pea-
sant's plough broke the clod, the people of Scotland
'soon after heard the lark rise to the sky, and saw the
daisy droop its withered head as they had never done be-
fore, because they had quaffed an intoxicating cup from
o, well-Which they. felt had given glory to the grass and
splesYdour to the flower.—(Applause.) Were they not
justifiecPin the adoration almost approaching to idolatry
with which the people of Scotland regarded the me-
mory of Burns ? And idolatry if it were, it was not
the worship of a false fire.----Cheers.) It were needless,
it were idle to enter upon the character of Burns, on his
merits or his failings—for failings he had, since there is
no clay so purified in the furnace of earthly trial as to
be spotless. But surely if ever facility and felicity were
combined, it was in him. Not easier does the wind
shake the down from the thistle than did the stirring of
genius shake off from his soul those in many senses
numerous strains embodying the most exquisite fancy's
tenderest sentiment, and the sublimest aspirations.—
(Much applause.) But one word more. It was cer-
tainly no small praise, that even now as the world
passed, when mental cultivation was everywhere ad-
vancing, and in the race of knowledge men were pressing
on each other's heels, amid the various arts, and accom-
plishments, and manifold acquirements of our present
time, there was not a man but came back gently and
sweetly to the natural song sung by our native bard.
The Learned Gentleman sat down amidst enthusiastic
cheering.
Mr. DICKENS said—l have the honour to be entrusted
with a toast, the very mention of which will recommend
itself to you, I know, as one possessing no ordinary
claims to your sympathy and approbation, and the pro-
posing of which is as congenial to my wishes and feel-
ings as its acceptance must be to yours. It is the health
of our Chairman—(Loud cheering)—and coupled with
his name, rhave to propose the Literature of Scotland—
a literature which he has done much to render famous
through the world ; and of which ho has becn for many
years—as I hope and believe that he will be for many
more—(Loud cheers)—a most brilliant and distinguished
ornament. Who can revert to the literature of the
land of Scott and of Burns, without having directly in
his mind, as inseparable from the subject, and foremost
in the picture, that old man of might, with his lion
heart and sceptred crutch—Cristopher North ?—(Loud
cheers.) lam glad to remember the time when I be-
lieved him to be a real, actual, veritable old gentleman—
that might be seen any day hobbling along the High-
street, with the most brilliant ep—but this is no fiction—
and the grayest hair in all the world ; who wrote not
because he cared to write—not because he cared for the
wonder and admiration of his fellow-men, but who
wrote because he could not help it—(Loud cheers)—
because there was always springingup in his mind a clear
and sparkling stream of poetry which must have vent,
and, like the glittering fountain in the fairy tale, draw
what you might was ever at its full, and never languished
even by a single drop. or bubble.—(Cheers.) I so
figured him in my mind, and when I saw the Professor
two days ago striding along the Parliament House, I
was disposed to take it as a personal offence—l was
vexed to see him look so hearty—l drooped to see twenty
Christophers in one—l began to think that Scottish life
was all lights and no shadows—(Loud cheers)—and I
began to doubt of that beautiful book to which I have
turned again and again always to find new beauties and
fresh sources of interest.—(Cheers.) It has been the
happy lot of Scotland that her great writers have loved
to exhibit her various forms, whether in scenes of soli-

tary grandeur or her simple village ways. The mighty
genius who lately departed from you was equally at
home in the wild grandeur of Highland scenery or
the burning sands of Syria, and in the low haunts ofLon-
don life ; while there is not a shepherd or a peasant who
has not his type immortalised in the verso of him whose
hand was on the plough while his heart was with the
muse. There is not a glen or a lonely haunt in the
Highlands which has nOt been visited by Christopher
in his shooting-jacket, with a heart as free and wild as
the winds that swept over him. His voice has been
heard from the lonely heaths and the snow-drifts of the
mountains—in the highways of Edinburgh—and in the
caves of the Covenanters. By his genius every foot of
ground in Scotland has been pictured to the dwellers afar
off as a fairy land.—(Loud cheers.) It is difficult to follow
the Professor through all the scenes he has depicted with
such exquisite beauty, from the varied stores of his
rich and teeming fancy; so that the epitaph of Gold-
smith may be applied to him, that there was no sub-
ject but he touched, and • nothing which he touched
that he did not adorn.—(Cheers.) But the literature
of Scotland comprises other names which are familiar to
you—poets, historians, critics, all of the foremost rank.
The Learned Lord, whom I am proud to call my friend,
(Cheers)—to whom, by his fine taste and just apprecia-
tion of the beauties of a author, literature owes so
much, and to the generodlY of whose nature those who
are opposed to him have borne high testimony—the au-
thor of Matthew Wald and Adam Blair, who has lately
depicted with a vivid colouring the last days of the
mighty genius who departed on the banks of the river he
loved so well—the gentleman who is present amongst
us, and who, under the signatere of Delta—(Loud
cheers)—has given the world assurance of a poet, and
has raised in us all admiration which we would fain be
at liberty to increase still farther by meeting him oftener
—these and other names are all included in the toast,
which we drink to do honour not to them, but to our-
selves.—(Loud cheers.)
Professor WILSON said, this was not the first time that
he had had the honour of presiding at such a meeting as
this, and though sadly deficient in that energy and crea-
tive genius which he wan said to possess, yet he would
yield to no man in that deep affection for his native land
which characterized its inhabitants ; and in allowing that
their feelings occasionally kindled a sparkling of some-
thing like genius in his own breast, and which attracted
I some notice to the humble efforts he had made. In his
(Professor W.'s) own person he had never been indiffe-
rent to the fame and reputation of others—sometimes he
had brought forth neglected merit—(Cheers)—and with
respect to the literature of Scotland, he might be permit-
ted to say that in soma departments it was distinguished
ust at this moment by some still living, and in some
only lately. They have made a most distinguished
figure, and given delineations of the national character
that would last for ever. The names of Hamilton, of
Grant, and of Brunton (he continued) are not likely to
be forgotten. They have indeed parted from us, but
their memory is fresh and green ; and it may be said of
them, not one line they ever wrote could they have
wished to blot. They had the true genius of their
country ; they were true to the earnestness and t of
i
the religion which characterised ther native lanpdley
; and
they drew many beautiful pictures that will last for ever.
There are two distinguished female writers amongst us
yet—there are other--but allow me to mention the names
of Ferrier and Johnstone.—(Cheers.) The Learned Gen-
tleman then referred jio the progress of the fine arts,
which, he said, were
and fiction.
and executed in the
same spirit of poetry an
few words, by mentioninn.
ma
Nmhe
and excellent friend, of
Allan.h i s
The}'
adistinguishedhnew
how adventurous his
knewvieh led him far from
his native country ; and they ale that, impelled by
his adventurous spirit and genius, sotud.ied the man-
ners, customs, and habits of thosewh
climes, and that he had produced ,;11
the
hved in other
pictures of the customs and habits of those
canvass these
ose countries,
was,isinon. He
would close in a
and thus made them visible to all who had an
nity of beholding them. He likewise devoteClhi3ppolln-
genius
to themes connected with his own country. The
Mr. Allan
Professor concluded by proposing the health of Allan
and the Fine Arts.
Mr. ALLAN returned his humble and sincere thanks
for the honour they had done him, and exv-essed his de-
light that there were many distinguished in the arts in
Scotland who would do honour to any country. He
ventured to think that, ere long, the fine arts would reach
the eminence attained by literary science.
Mr. PATRICK ROBERTSON was afraid - that he would
be considered a little intrusive on the order of the toasts
of the evening ; but he hoped that the communication
he had to malt?, and which had just been put into his
hands, would be ail apology for this apparent intrusion.
Such was the rapidity of the periodical press, that lie
found that a newspaper called the Edinburgh Evening
Courant—so called because it was published at six
o'clock in the morning, and which was expected to
came out to-morrow morning—had already published
an account of the business of the evening's proceed-
ings ; and not only an account of what had actually
taken place, but had reduced that account into most ad-
mirable poetry. He had no doubt that it would interest
the meeting ; and although he was not a shareholder
in the said newspaper, he would take the liberty of
reading the prefatory,matters. The Learned Gentleman
then proceeded to read a paper :—" A splendid meeting
took place last night—Professor Wilson in the chair.—
(Laughter,) A strut gentleman acted as croupier.—
(Renewed laughter.) We wish to present our readers

first with a serious description of the more tragic part
of the proceedings ; and, secondly, with some of those
lighter flights of fancy by which the evening was distin-
guished."—(Continued laughter.) The Learned Gen-
tleman then proceeded to read a number of verses
in poetry, referring to the various characters in Mr.
Dickens works. Much humour and wit were displayed
in the composition, and the reading of them excited great
laughter and cheering,
Mr. LUDOVIC COLQITHOUN, Advocate, said, the high
honour has been assigned to me of proposing as a toast
the health of a most learned and accomplished person,
whose unavoidable absence from this meeting, deeply
regretted by us all, has been so feelingly alluded to by
his friend, our distinguished guest—l mean Lord Jel-
frey.—(Loud cheers.) Conscious as I am of my ina-
bility to do justice to that toast, I should have at once
declined the duty, otherwise most gratifying, of propon-
big it, was I not conscious, at the same time, that the
toast is indeed one which requires no preface, and that
eulogy and eloquence—eloquence even such as that
which has delighted us to-night—could add nothing to
the feelings of respect and admiration with which all
who hear me must regard its eminent subject. With
such feelings, then, towards Lord Jeffrey, surely we
should rejoice that we have been favoured with an oppor-
tunity so fitting as that, which the present occasion
affords, of testifying, with the pride and affection becom-
ing his fellow-citizens, that we appreciate as we ought a
man whose genius and attainments have long since won
for him a memorable name, not merely among ourselves,
or in this country, but in evbry land where the language
and literature of Britain are known.—(Cheers.) Such
a name is not lightly or easily won ; it can neither be
acquired nor retained without correspondent merit ; for
the very condition of fame is high and authentic desert.
—(Applause.) It is not for me—it would be presump-
tion, and, in an assembly like this, altogether superflu-
ous to discuss, or even to indicate the grounds of Lord
Jeffrey's well-earned celebrity. But amidst the many
which might be indieated—amid the many indisput-
able claims he possesses on our veneration and gratitude
—I trust I may be permitted to allude very briefly to
one—the unparalleled and inestimable services he has
rendered to the periodical literature of our country.—
(Cheers.) He found it in a state of helpless, and seem-
ingly hopeless decrepitude. He reanimated it, or rather,
to speak more correctly, he called into existence a species
of literature absolutely now, with which that displaced
by it had nothing in common but the name. He infused.
into this new creation an energy and a fire, and in-
vested it with a dignity and a grace, of which, till then,
periodical literature had, scarcely afforded an indication,
and with which, indeed, judging from the past, it might
have been supposed irreconcilable. He not only de-
monstrated that the periodical press was capable of being
made the most efficient of engines for disseminating . ,
instruction and information on every branch of human
knowledge, but he actually made it such ;. and lie re-
laxed not in his efforts till lie saw that press become, as,
thanks to him, it has now long been, the chosen medium
through which the best and ripest intellects hold com-
munion with their kind.—(Applause.) If we would in-
quire into the means by which he effected a revolution,
so mighty in its character, so salutary in its results, we
need but call to recollection the almost endless series of
original and exquisite assays, which, in swift and unin-
terrupted succession, emanated from that most fertile of
minds—essays, embracing in their range every depart-
ment of literature and art, and nearly every department
of science—infinitely varied, therefore, in their subjects,
but each and all bearing the unequivocal impress of a
master-head, each and all characterised by a masculine
vigour of argument, and universality of knowledge, a
force and felicity of illustration, a prodigality of wit, a
beauty and dazzling brilliancy of style, rarely seen in
such perfection even singly, probably never before found
so happily combined ; we need, 1 repeat, but look to
these, and we can be little at a loss to divine the means
by which the triumph was effected, and surely as little
disposed to question the character of Lord Jeffrey's fame.
(Loud cheers.) But, if any thing could enhance the
splendour of that triumph—if any thing were still want-
ing to consummate the fame of him who achieved it—
surely it would be found in the fact that these precious
contributions to the literary glory of our country were
made, not by a recluse student, lapped in lettered ease,
but by one, who, while he made them, was immersed,
daily and hourly, in the toils of a profession certainly
sufficiently toilsome, among the members of which, while
he stood second to none in learning, he stood paramount
in eloquence and every forensic accomplishment.—(The
toast was then drank amidst loud applause.)

Mr. DICKENS said, I am less foi-iunate_than the two
gentlemen who have preceded me in their toasts, for I
have to mention a name known to all present, but which
I cannot utter at this time without deep sorrow—a name
in which Scotland had a high and endearing pride,
which England delighted to honour, and which was che-
rished in the breast of every reflecting man throughout
the whole civilised world. From among the gifted spi-
rits of our times a gentle, honest, generous, and true
one has passed away, as it were but yesterday. The
life of one devoted to all that was true, and beautiful,
and elevating in art and in nature, 'lath come to an end.
I will give you the memory of Wilkie. It is not as one
whom many of us knew and loved—it is not as one
whose simple nature his high fame and fortune never
spoiled or changed—it is not as one who acted up to
what he taught, and who made the domestic virtues and
beauties his daily practice, that I think of him to-night.
I think of him as one, and you should do so too, who
has left behind him unwonted fire, who has left an un-
dying and imperishable name—who made the cottage
hearth his grave theme, and who surrounded the lives,
and cares, and daily toils and occupations of the poor
with dignity and beauty—who, indeed, found sermons in
stones, and books in streams, and good in everything
—and who left in all his works the same breathing of
health as of the air wafted from the heather of his na-
tive land.—(Cheers.) However desirous one may bo,
on an occasion like the present, to separate his memory
from those mournful associations which gather around
it, it is impossible; they are peculiarly inseparable from
him ;—the painter's study, with the empty easel, the
brush and pallet which he was wont to use now lie idly

by ;—his unfinished pictures turn their faces to the wail
—and that bereaved and affectionate mourner whom he
loved in his days to honour, will look upon him no
more. He is gone, and has left behind him, particu-
larly to his countrymen and to all who knew him, a
name and a fame as pure and unsullied as the bright
sky whiCh shines above the painter's grave. He has filled
our minds and memories with what is mournful, yet as
soothing as the rolling of the blue waters 'over his
honoured head. Mindful of his only sister, I cannot
help expressing the hope that the time will shortly
come when she, like us, will feel a solemn pleasure in
speaking of his goodness and greatness, and when ;:she
will have the grateful recollection that he died in the
fulness of his powers, before age and sickness had
dimmed his sight or had bowed his head. Mr. Dickens
was much affected during the delivery of this speech,
particularly at those passages more especially referring
to Sir David Wilkie's death. The toast was drank in
solemn silence.

The Hon. Mr. PRIMROSE proposed a toast which he
was sure would meet with all their approbation—the
health of Mr. Patrick Robertson.—(Cheers.) Whether
they regarded him as the first in a most learned pro-
fession—as a most distinguished orator in this great city
—as one of the best and earnest promoters of conviviality
—(Laughter)--or as the "stout gentleman acting as
croupier"—(Laughter)—he was quite sure that if they
remembered him in one or all of then respects, the bum-
per he was to propose would be prodigious.—(Laughter.)
The Honourable Gentlemanlproposed their "great crou-
pier, Mr. Robertson."
Mr. ROBERTSON returned thanks, and said that he felt
groat pleasure in being one of those who were instru-
mental in originating and forwarding the business of the
evening. What had already passed was a complete jus-
tification of the steps they had taken, and he would only
say that he was grateful for the cordiality and kindly
feelings shown to him by his fellow-citizens, and that his
exertions in any capacity were entirely at their disposal.
Mr. FLETCHER said, that although he would make the
shortest speech of the evening, yet he was sure it would
meet with the most cordial and enthusiastic reception.
It had been said that the genius of Mr. Dickens was
English ; but he demurred to that, and would say that
it was half English and half Scotch, as he was un-
doubtedly connected with a Scottish lady. He then pro:
posed the health of Mrs. Dickens, which was drank
amidst great applause.
Mr. DICKENS returned thanks, and said that his wife
was a Scotchwoman, and was born in this city.
Mr. P. ROBERTSON proposed " Mr. Murray and the
Drama."

Mr. MURRAY-Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, I need
not say how deeply I feel the honour you have con-
ferred upon me ; and I will freely confess that, seeing
my name in the list of toasts, I had endeavoured to con-
coct what you, with your usual kindness towards me,
might have deemed a very tolerable speech—(Laughter)
—but really, Gentlemen, considering the lateness of the
hour, and the great talent which has preceded me, it
would be an absurdity, nay, almost an impertinence for me
to intrude upon your patience by--(Here Mr. Murray
was met by cries of "No, no," "Go on," accompanied
with great applause.) Well, Gentlemen, perhaps it will
be better for the general effect that I should go on. My
friend Al]an will tell you how valuable shade is in a pic-
ture, perhaps it may prove equally so at a public dinner,
and, after the brilliant display you have heard this even-
ing, a little calm mediocrity, or even positive failure,
may be an agreeable relief.—(Laughter and great ap-
plause.) I remember when the elite of London gave
their dinner to John Kemble, upon his retirement from
the stage, the stewards waited on the late Lord Holland,
to request that he would take the chair on that occasion.
His Lordship said that nothing would give him more
pleasure, but added, " Gentlemen, I fear you have
made a bad choice. In the House of Lords I
can worry a Minister, or badger a Bishop, with
any man, but I am a wretched speaker at a
public dinner." So, jumping from great to small,
place me upon my own boards, and I think I can wind
up a season, pacify a pit, nay, coax a gallery—(Loud
laughter)—aye, even when crowded with the stormy
sixpences of a second price—(Great laughter and ap-
plause)—with most men of my trade ; but you must be
well aware, that flourishing in the set phrases of a
theatre, where, as children say, you have all the talk to
yourself, is widely different from following in the wake
of such eloquence as you have listened to to-night, and,
I fear, my thanks will fall miserably short of what they
ought to be.—(Cries of " No," and loud applause.) lam
well aware that much of what Mr. RObertson has been
pleased to say of me, has been coloured by those feel-
ings of private regard with which he honours me ; and
I am equally aware, that the cordiality with which yoii
have responded to his compliments, has sprung more
from your kindness to an old servant, than to any merit
that old servant possesses.—(Renewed cries of Nc,,"
and great applause.) Well, Gentlemen, merit or :no
merit, I am truly grateful for the honour you have dome
me, and thank you for it from the very bottom of my heaxt.
gI
obligations awaidshcothnteinued cheers.) With regard to the
laidnyperoopulrdia ex-
pressepmerbocelya.h_e(rtalf,u4aigo_dr a(mi
hern,