The Sun.
London, England, 1832-10-08 00:00:00

this period on your time. I feel perfectly inadequate to
the task. I must hope for your indulgence, because I
f-el I must have omitted many things, and left untouched
many virtues, which, in all probability, you will say
ought to have been mentioned by me. I feel, however,
that I shall be more entitled to your indulgence on this
occasion, as it is not with regard to the personal excel-
It-ne'es of one comparatively unknown to you that I am
called upon to address you : he is well known to you all,
and, therefore, without adding more, I shall beg leave to
p:.opose for your approbation the first proposition, which is
this :

" That this meeting is impressed with sentiments of the
highest admiration of the genius and talents of the late Sir
Walter Scott, whose matchless works lave carried his fame
into the remotest regions of the civilised world, and have re-
flected on the literature of his country a glory which seems
destined to he as durable as the language in which they arc
written."

Lord ROSEBERRY rose and said—Gentlemen, in rising
to acquiesce in the request made by my Lord Provost, to
second the resolution which has just now been proposed
to you by the Noble Duke, I am sensible it is impossible
far me to add any thing to the strength or force of
that resolution—not only because of the eloquent feeling
and powerful address with which the Noble Duke has
accompanied the proposition he has submitted to the meet-
ing, but because of the enthusiastic manner in which the
proposal has been received—not an enthusiasm of a mo.
mentary character, but an enthusiasm which is grounded
upon the best feelings of the heart, and upon the dic-
tates of the soundest understanding.—.(Loud cheers )
Gentlemen, allow me to st rte to you the self-con-
gratulation that I feel in having been so suddenly
asked to second this proposition, and, permit me,
at the same time, to expte,s the strong feeling and
pleasure, and the high admiration with which 1 view the
meeting here a,sembled, because I feel with the Noble
Duke who preceded me a degree of no common gratifica-
tion, that, at a period, when upon almost all other questions
the strongest differences of opinion occur in the minds of
individuals, and when a diversity of sentiment prevails upon
every tiling else that takes place at our public ineetines—l
feel a just pride at being associated with the Noble Duke
upon this memorable occasion, while I feel also that every
individual here present must participate in the real
satisfaction of seeing persons of all classes—individuals
holding opinions upon other sulsjects utterly opposed to
one another, coming forward with a zeal and unanimity
unknown upon any recent, if not upon any former occa-
sion—(Hear, hear)—to testify their general sorrow on
account of the lass that has been sustained, and to ex-
press their high sense of the merits—the virtues—the un-
rivalled talents of our fellow-countryman—(Loud cheers).
Gentlemen, I feel that in attempting to do any thing for
the purpose of inducing you to acquiesce in this pro
position, 'should only weaken the force of the proposition
itself. My inadequacy to do justice to those feelings and
intentions which move you all without saying a word on
the subject, must have the effect rather of diminishing what
I wish to produce, than of adding to it, if I were to enter
into any detail; but at the same time I cannot help alluding,
for one moment, to what the Noble Duke himself, in his
admirable address, has already adverted to,—that if there
be any one feature in the works of the late Sir W. Scott
more than another which deserves commendation, and
places the writer of those works at the head, and more
than at the head, of all other authors who have pub-
lished works of a similar description, it is the universal and
high morality which prevails throughout his writings—for
although Sir Walter Scott has been the author of works
of fiction, and of fancy, and of imagination, whether they
be the production of his poetic genius, or whether they be
in the shape of novels, with which he has delighted and
instructed the world, there is not a single page nor a single
letter upon which the eye of purity might not rest.—
(Cheers) Nay, more, there is hardly a sentiment—there
is not a description, which does not go either to in-
struct the human intellect, to add to the best feelings
of human nature, or to purify the heart of man.—
(Much cheering.) I say then, without meaning on this
occasion to use those general words which are often stated
upon occasions of public meetings, that the name of Scott
us ill stand for ever a solitary—l shall not say even a
rare, but a solitary instance, and the most splendid ex-
ample of an individual whose powers are unrivalled, whose
genius is far beyond that of any other man, both in prose and
in verse, and who dedicated the efforts of that genius to
instruct the human mind—to elevate, to adorn, to dig-
nify, and to do all that which either renders human na-
ture more civilized, or makes us better men. It is there-
fore the least we can do by such an individual, who com-
bines such great powers with such amiable dispositions
anti such virtuous conduct, to attempt to testify our sense
of his greatness by the erection of some memorial to his
memory-, in some shape or other. We cannot do that
which is due to ourselves or to our posterity unless we avail
ourselves of the opportunity which this or any other
similar occasion presents, and holds out as a perfect
example for imitation. With these observations I shall
not farther detain the meeting, but beg leave to second
the retolution which you have just heard read.
The resolution was then put and carried unanimously.
The Loan ADVOCATE.—My Lord Provost and Gentle-
men, I have been requested to submit another resolution
to this meeting, and I certainly feel it a great honour to
be thought worthy of taking any part upon such an occa-
sion. 1 feel along with the Noble Earl, who has just sat
down, that this assemblage is without precedent in our
annals ; and 1 cannot hut consider that it is at once a
soothing and an everlasting spectacle to behold the citizens
of this great metropolis solemnly marshalled under their
Chief ]Magistrate, and graced with the presence of some of
the first Nobles of the land (themselves proud to take the
parts assigned them on such an occasion), by many of the
Reverend Clergy and the Judges of the land, all leaving
their ordinary occupations and abodes, not for the ordi-
nary purpose of maintaining their own rights or advanc-
ing any interests of their own, but conspiring to do
honour, or attempting to do honour, to a private man—
(Hear, bear)—of a genius, who has honoured us by living
among us through his lifetime, and who has continued to
reflect honour, not only upon the city and country
which gave him birth, but to distant realms and
foreign climes.—(Great applause.) I sympathise also
most fully with that sentiment so eloquently expressed by
the Noble Earl beside me, in the gratification that all
right thinking men must receive from the other peculiarity
which distinguishes the present assembly—l mean that
peculiarity which puts it in contrast with the other assem-
blies now congregating all over the country—that it con-
sists of persons of different minds, personal and political,
.sho have agreed and concurred to cast Aside all causes of
dissention, and to meet together to testify their common
respect for that which merits their common pride, and for
that which has hitherto existed for their benefit. No
individual can more sincerely rejoice than I do in these
reunions and singleness of mind ; for when causes of dis-
sension, perhaps too numerous, are abroad, it is delightful
to find one arena where all may come, almost into the im-
mediate presence of the Deity itself, by the grave of a great
man, there to be reminded of their common feelings,
which, in the confusion incident to human life, are too
alit by us all to be forgotten.—(Hear, hear.) Gentle-
men, the resolution which I am to have the hononr of pro-
posing to you, and the words of which I shall read im-
mediately, has for its object to express the opinion that
some memorial should be erected or produced in this city
to commemorate the respect that Sir Walter Scott's con-
temporaries feel for the great man they have lost, and to
indicate to posterity our sense at least of those merits and
talents which it is not likely would otherwise be for-
gotten. Gentlemen, it may appear vain and idle to erect a
monument, or to endeavour to commemorate by any act
of ours, the fame or memory of a person who, in his own
works, has already raised to himself a more imperishable
monument,, and whose fame and honoured recollection are
likely far to outlive all other memorials—(Cheers) ;—but it
is natural that we should seek to express the feelings that
are within us, and, duly considered, it is neither idle nor
(unprofitable in us to do so. It is natural and it is right
that we should wish frequently and on all occasions to
remind ourselves of the debt of gratitude we owe to that
man, and still more so to remind others, both of the ta-
lents he possessed, and of the honour and respect—the
nighly deserved respect, be commanded; and I cannot
think it use'ess in a great community that some just and
conspicuous memorial should exist of those great virtues
and talents by which this illustrious individual was adorn-
ed—the example of whom cannot too frequently be called
before us. On the contrary, I conceive that amidst tile
ordinary and bustling pursuits of our daily life, it
is of infinite advantage that something should be set be-
fore our eyes occasionally to recall our thoughts
Fiona the uncharitable emotions which will accompany
the best of us through our pursuits in this life;
and I conceive that a casual and transitory gleans of some-
thing of that sort may tend to raise to higher and loftier
notions, and to excire nobler and worthier feelings than
anything that may have roused us before. I conceive,
therefore, that honour paid to the memory of a great man,
and a monument erected to render more frequent and fami-
liar the recollection of his merits and services, is not only
among the most honourable and sincere tributes that a na-
tion can pay to public worth, but is, in point of fact, the
most effectual means that can be found of insuring to our-
selves a badge of credit, and of affording gratification to
all. And I feel it would be idle for me to say, that Sir
Walter Scott stands eminently conspicuous in the rank of
those to whose memory the erection of a monument is not
only necessary but wise ; generally speaking, such honour

is due to all that can be classed in the general appellation
of public benefactors; and certainly I know no man,
in the highest and widest sense of the expression,
tr whom the honour is more justly due than
to the individual whose memory we arc now called
to commemorate.—(Hear, hear, hear.) If he could
Only be regarded—as he most truly may, as having given
a larger amount of pleasure and gratification—of innocent
delight which draws no repentance after it, than any other
person on record, he would be fully entitled to this ; but,
Gentlemen, these are not his only titles to our respect and
to our cordial homage. Indeed, pleasure in that way, I
firmly believe and trust, never can he given alone, and
certainly Sir Walter Scott did not merely give amusement
aad gratification to his innumerable readers—he was a
great instructor, a great intellectual teacher, and a great
roaster and practical enforcer of the highest doctrines of
morality.—(Hear, hear) hear.) I know no indivislual
rim has contributed so largely to diffuse just and exact
nations of the more inmortant features of otir history through
the country and world at large, than that individual ; and
riot only by the inimitable clearnesss, but by the warmth
and colourings, and the loveliness and beauty, and the dif-
ferent combinations into which he has thrown his facts.
Ila has attracted to the great historical truths the attention
o many of the more careless and indifferent persons, who
would have shrunk back from the more laborious research
for those facts in etbor writings, but to the most diligent
student he has furnished that most useful and practical
exposition which they would in vain have searched for in
tie more dull and far less authenticated pages of other
authors. He has supplied *hat I humbly conceive to be
the more valuable part—not only a true character of the
living individuals who figured, and the different scenes, but
the exact colour of the events, the nature of the age, the
mad itic Lain and characters of all the circumst inces which
the peculiarity of events gave rise to ; and has supplied
what persons of inferior intellect or imagination would not
hove neen able to have collected from the pages of other,
but not mote aulientitt histories. In fio doing lie has
not only extended the range of historical knowledge,
arid very widely extended the benefits to be derived from
historical information, but, Gentlemen, he has done a
great deal more ; for in every one of his performances
(and in this I entirely concur with what both the Noble
Lords have said, who have already addressed you) be has
always been on the side of right feeling, of just prin-
ciple, and of humane and generous disposition.—(Hear,
hear, hear.) He has given the most interesting and ani-
mating characters to human events, and he has guarded
arid coloured the whole with that sound sense which cha-
racterises his writings throughout—in discountenancing
extreme and vehement opinions, and substituting instead
humble and substantial virtues, and holding up to admi-
ration those who are lovers of humanity, generosity, and
reasonableness of conduct, rather than for anything that
belonged to them on account of their distinguished fortunes
or particular stations in society. I may touch upon this
with the less impropriety, as I had the fortune—l will not
call it misfortune—not to be entirely adverse with him in
his political opinions ; but no man, however, belonging to
a party, could be a fairer or a more generous partisan. If
he was a greater lover of legitimacy and of Kings than
some among us new may be, that did not cause him to
withhold from giving a fair picture of King J ones, or of
tiie levities of King Charles 11. If lie disliked levellers
and roundheads, that did not prevent him giving the first
place, in one of his novels, to the roundhead Morton, in
o, position to his great favourite Donee. I think he has
been just to all classes ; and, looking on this country as it
has formerly been, and perhaps ever will be, and as a free
state ever ought to be, the seat of rival and contending
parties, to keep the vessel of the state steady and prevent
the triumph of any extreme in our well-balanced Consti•
lotion, he has rendered the retrospect of our story a spec-
torle—a bright spectacle, by representing the roundhead
and the high churchmen, as men of great talent—men
who commanded respect—men to whom no generous or
free person need feel ashamed to attach themselves. lam
unwilling upon a subject so familiar to detain you with
further observations; but I have seen with some surprise
•—I cannot say with pain—an insinuation that this great
man—the greatest undoubtedly of his day, possessing, and
di servedly possessing, the most extensive, and I will ven-
ture to predict, the most permanent reputation—that
though the author of works of fancy and fiction, he was
deficient in originality. In reference to this I may ob-
set ve, that Sir Walter Scott sobered down the extrava-
gance of mystical fiction by condescending to copy hu-
min nature, and to borrow from the authentic records of
history. Why, Shakspeare wrote historical plays, and
the germs of all—even the most fantastic of his produc-
tions—are to be found in obscure novels and romances;
and yet I think the originality of that mighty mind has
not generally been questioner?. True, in the greater part
of events, he has copied with certain additions from his-
tory, and be has adhered as far as possible to its authen-
tic authentic lineaments, upon which he has ingrafted the
magic rl glories of his own most original, inventive, and
creative genius. In the histories lie found the mere skele-
tons, to which he has given life and motion, and colour-
ing, and warmth, and interest. And it is not less a
creative power to make these dry bones live, than to
make a new creation.—(Applause.) I have been in-
duced by some comments in a newspaper I accidentally
saw this morning to intrude this transient remark on
your notice ; and shall end by stating, that I think if
any man deserves a public monument anti a public tes-
timony from the city and from the country of which he
was so long the ornament and the delight, it must be
allowed, I think, by universal acclamation, that Sir
Walter Scott is the man.—(Cheers.) While every one
must feel ashamed if a curious stranger should in a few
years hereafter visit this city, and ask for the monument
of the greatest of our names, we could not be able to
point it out. I should think the next, and even the
esent, generation to be equally commiserated, if there
was not within the sight and daily paths of those exist-
ing, something to revive in their minds the recollection of
him who can never be recalled without impressions of
delight, leading the mind into improving and beneficial
contemplations. I need not say any thing as to the na-
ture of the memorial that ought to be erected to Sir
Walter. Of course the collection of the subscriptions,
and the conduct and arrangement of the details of the
business of the meeting, will have to be left to a Com-
mittee, the appointment of which, I understood, will be
moved for immediately after my motion shall have been
carried. The Right Hon. and Learned Gentleman then
concluded—with the following resolution :
" That this meeting, in accordance with what they believe
to be the general wish and hope of his countrymen, are of
opinion that a Public Memorial should be erected in the me-
tropolis of Scotland to the Memory of Sir Walter Scott, on a
scale worthy of his great name, and fitted to convey to future
times an adequate testimony of the estimation in which lie
was held by his contemporaries."—Cheering.)
Professor WILSON said—My Lords and Gentili men, after
the n' my just and noble sentiments which have been so
eloquently expressed by men distinguished by their rank
and by their genius, and which have carried along with
them the sympathies of this great assemblage, surely it
would be worse than useless in me to endeavour to add to
the effect which has been produced upon the souls of you
all ! But a few words I must offer, and they shall be the
words of sincerity and of truth. Honoured indeed do I
feel, in being permitted to express these few words. lam
entitled to do so by the same title you all possess—admira-
tion and reverence for the memory of the illustrious dead.
I am entitled to do so on account of the kindly feelings
which accompanied our friendly intercourse through life;
ard 1 aria entitled to do so on account of the sacred and
inviolable friendship that I cherish for those who are near-
est and dearest to his breast. A year has not elapsed
since that great man left his native shores, in hopes,
flint perhaps they were, of being restored to the health
which had gradually been declining; and I may say that
no ship ever left our shores with such a rich freightage of
prayers for his happy return. He returned, but it was not
long before a melancholy rumour spread over and saddened
our land, that he was to be permitted to be amongst us but
for a short period longer. It was felt that a great power was
about to depart.—(Hear, bear.) It was felt that from
" the dome of thought, and palace of the soul," not with-
out mortal trouble, its inhabitant was about to depart for
ever. Our sorrows were peculiar—he was our compa-
triot—he was dearest to our souls.—(llear, hear, hear.)
But that was not all ; that great and generous
country with which we have now long been run-
ning a race of generous rivalry—England, too, felt in
the depths of her heart for the loss that human nature was
about to sustain. The mighty heart of London itself
beat heavily with sorrow at the anticipated event.—
(Hear, hear.) Fearing that the sad event was near, they
proudly hoped that his remains might he interred in one of
their great Minsters or Abbeys. They hoped that his bones
might lie in St. Paul's or in Westminster Abbey ; and if
such a funeral had taken place, truly might it have been
said that never

" To those chambers where the mighty rest,
Since their foundation came a nobler guest."
—(Hear, hear.) But it was right that his should be
mingled with the sacred soil of its father land ; it was
fitting he•should lie amongst those scenes which he had
ennobled ; it was natural that the shadow of his own
woods should mingle with the gloom which fell over his
dying couch ; and more affecting to my mind,
as I am sure to yours, titan any public funeral
celebrated with whatever pomp it might have been, was
his interment within the glades of Drybourgh, attended
only by his own weeping family, and such friends as could
do honour on the occasion, and by the servants of his house,