The Sun.
London, England, 1842-04-25 00:00:00

TEIE DICKENS' DINNER.

(Abridged from the New England Weekly Review.)
The dinner given to Charles Dickens, Esq., by. the
citizens of Hartford, took place at the City Hotel, on
Tuesday evening, the Bth instant. It was a splendid
affair, and gave the highest satisfaction, both to the
illustrious guest, and to those who assembled on the
occasion to pay him a tribute of respect. William J.
Hamersley, Esq., in the Chair.
On the 'entrance of Mr. Dickens the company rose,
and remained standing until a blessing was asked by
the Rev. Bishop Brownell.
After dinner the following toasts were given :-
1. The President of the United States.

2. The Queen of England.
3. England and the United States.—The ties of
kindred, of social and commercial intercourse, of a
common language, and a common literature, link
them indissolubly to the cause of civilisation.

4. The Noblemen of Nature.—Those, whose great-
ness is created by the hand of God, we welcome them
from every class, and every land.
S. The Poor and the Oppressed.—Let them rejoice
that genius and talent now advocate their cause.
6. Literature.—That neutral ground on which
men of every clime meet in peaceful homage to the
intellect.

The regular toasts were received with great en-
thusiasm ; after which,
Mr. HAIHERSI;EY rose, and addressed the company
as follows:—Gentlemen, we are justly- proud of our
own young. and vigorous literature, ana in the indul-
gence of a commendable national feeling, are desirous
of using every honourable effort to cherish and pro-
mote its growth ; but we are not therefore the less
conscious that for some of our keenest intellectual en-
joyments we are indebted to the literature of Eng-
land; her poets, her orators, her historians, and her
philosophers, have instructed and improved us, and
that "bright particular star" of her literary firma-
ment, William Shakspere, exercises an influence as
abiding and unlimited among us, as in the land which
gave him birth—

" Deep in the west, as Independence roves,
His banner's planting 'round the land he loves,
Where nature sleeps, in Eden's infant grace.
In time's full hour shall spring a glorious race ;
His name, his fame, his language, shall they bear
And rear for him the vaulted temple there

Again in him, shall Albion's sceptre wave,
And what her mighty Lion lost, her mightier SWAN
shall save."
—(Applause.) But, Gentlemen, the intellectual in-
fluence of England is not confined to those writers
who have finished their earthly career, the vitality of
their works being yet unimpaired—her living authors
have furnished a Peirian spring, from which we have
drank and been refreshed ; among those authors are
many who have acquired an exalted reputation in the
various departments of literature ; but I am free to
say, and to say it with the most perfect confidence,
and the most entire sincerity, that among them all
there breathes not the man whom we would welcome
with such heartfelt enthusiasm as the distinguished
guest towards whom we have the high gratification
of extending our hospitalities this evening.—(Loud
cheering.) We have been enabled to trace the course
of many writers, from the feebler effusions of their
early years to the more finished efforts of advanced
manhood ; but our gifted and youthful guest sprang
into public existence before our delighted vision like
Minerva from the brain of Jove, completely clad in
intellectual panoply.—(Applause.) The writings of
no author, I will not except Sir Walter Scott himself,
have been so universally read at the time of their pub-
lication, as those of the gentleman to whom allusion
has just been made, as they have been received in this
country in detached parts, they have been seized by
the periodical press, and scattered broadcast over the
Union, and as each work has been completed, it has
been issued from the presses of various publishing
houses in the country, again to be read by those who
had already perused it in numbers, or to be devoured
by others, who had postponed the gratification of their
mental appetites until toe whole rich' feast could be
spread at once before their view.—(Applause.) Gen-
tlemen, we are assembled as the admirers of our guest,
and of his writings—we admire the latter, on ac-
count of the wonderful powers of description and
imagir ation they display—we admire them for their
playful satire and amusing humour—we admire them
on account of the accurate knowledge of human cha-
racter they evince, and for the passages of exquisite
beauty that are to be found gleaming and glistening
along their pages; but, Gentlemen, we especially
dmire them, because of the broad, bright, pure, deep
stream of human affection that runs through the ideal
world he has created for us—(Continued applause)—a
world blooming with verdure, blushing with flowers,
and prolific of blessed fruits.—(Applause.) We ad-
mire the Man, because, leaving to others the trappings
of i ank, and the magnificence of wealth, he has taken

us among the poor, and the humble, and from among
those classes, has held up, for our imitation and ad-
miration, bright examples of all the better elements of
the human character, of unpretending virtue, tried, and
triumphant ; virtue, that invests wyle moral dignity
and beauty the character of Oliver Twist, the poor-
house boy; virtue, that wins all hearts, in the person
of sweet little Nell, the beautiful and earl v called.-
-(Enthusiastic applau4,.) The writings of our most
cherished and welcome guest, distinguished as they
- are by the characteristics to which allusion has been
made, are in the most comprehensive, and best sense of
the term, popular ; and permit me to add,- Gentlemen,
that the time is fast approaching, if it has not already
arrived, when his will be the most desirable fame,
whose highest aim shall be to assert the rights, to
advance the interests, to improve the capacities, or to
cultivate the affections of the people.—(Applause.)
Gentlemen, I propose the " Health of Charles
Dickens." Elected by the world's suffrage to an ele-
vated station in the great republic of letters, his fame is
written on the heart, and the head approves the record.
This sentiment was received with long, loud, con-
tinuous, and enthusiastic applause.
After the cheering had subsided, Mr. DieKeNs rose
and remarked—Gentlemen, to say that I thank you
for the earnest manner in which you have drank. the
toast just now so eloquently proposed to you to say.
that 1 give you back your kind wishes and good feel-
ings with more than compound interest ; and that I
feel how dumb and powerless the best acknowledg-
ment would be beside such genial hospitality as yours
—is nothing. To say that in this winter season,
flowers have sprung up in every footsteps' length of
the path, which has brought me here ; that no coun-
try ever smiled more pleasantly than yours has smiled
on me ; and that I have rarely looked upon a brighter
summer prospect than that which lies before me now
—is nothing.—(Applause.) But it is something to
be no stranger in a strange place ; to feel, sitting at a
board for the first time, the ease and-affections of an
old guest ; and to be at once on such intimate terms
with the family, as to have a homely genuine interest
in its every member—it is, I say, something to be
in this novel and happy ,frame of mind ; and as it
is of your creation, and owes its being to you, I have
no reluctance in urging it as a reason why, in tddress-
ing you, I should not so much consult the form and
fashion of my speech, as I should employ that universal
language of the heart, which you, and such as you,
best teach, and best can understand. Gentlemen, in
that universal language—common to you in America,
and to us in England, as that younger mother tongue,
which, by the means and through the happy union of
our two great countries shall be spoken, ages hence,
by land and sea, over the wide surface of the globe—
I thank you. I had occasion, Gentlemen, to say the
other night in Boston, as I have more than once had
occasion to remark before, that it is not easy for an
author to speak of his own books. If the task be a
difficult one at any time, its difficulty certainly is
not diminished when a frequent recurrence to the
same theme has left one nothing new to say. Still I
feel that in a company like this, and especially after
what has been said by the President, that I ought not
to pass lighty over those labours of love, which, if
they had no other merit, have been the happy means
of bringing us together. It has been often observed,
that you cannot judge of an author's personal cha-
racter from his writings; it may be that you cannot
—I think it very likely, for many reasons, that you
cannot—but, at least, a reader will rise from the pe-
rusal of a book with.some defined and tangible idea of
the writer's moral creed and broad purposes, if he has
any at all ; and it is probable enough that he may
like to have that idea confirmed from the author's lips,
or dissipated by his -explanation. Gentlemen, my
moral creed—which is a very wide and comprehen-
sive one, and includes all sects and parties—is very
easily summed up. I have faith, and I wish to diffuse
faith in the existence—yes, of beautiful things even
in those conditions of society, which one so degene-
rate, degraded, and forlorn, that at first sight it would
seem as though they could only be described by a
strange and terrible reversal of the words of Scrip-
ture—" God said let there be light, and there was
none." I take it—that we are born, and that we
hold our sympathies, hopes, and energies, in trust for
the many, and not for the few. That we cannot hold in
too strong a light of disgust and contempt, before the
view of others, all meanness, falsehood, cruelty, and
oppression, of every grade and kind. Above all, that
nothing is high, because it is in a high place; and
that, nothing is low, because it is in a low one.—
(Loud Applause.) This is the lesson taught us in
the great book of nature. This is the lesson which
may he read, alike in the bright track of the stars,
and in the dusty course of the poorest thing that
drags its tiny length upon the ground. This is the
lesson ever uppermost in the thoughts of that inspired
man, who tells us that there are—
" Tongues in the trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."
—(Cheers." Gentlemen, keeping the objects steadily
before me, I am at no loss to refer your favour and
your generous hospitality back to the right source.
hand, that if, instead of
little for your smiles or
Ni,brrihonnigige,,,llkasnthoiotwu
is,d care
on tsh oneeyweerrye a land of tyranny and
frowns, so I am sure, upon the other, that if,
instead of being what I am, I were the greatest
genius that ever trod the earth, and had exerted my-
self for the oppression and degradation of mankind,
you would despise and reject Inc. I hope you will,
whenever through such means, I give you the oppor-
tunity. Trust me that, whenever you give me the
like occasion, I will return the compliment, with
interest.
Gentlemen, as I have no secrets from you, in the
spirit of confidence you have engendered between us,
and as I have made a kind- of compact with myself
that I never will, while I remain in America, omit an
opportunity of referring to a topic in which I and all
others of my class on both sides of the great water,
are equally interested—equally interested, there is
no difference between us—l would beg leave to whis-
per in your ear two words,, international copyright.
I use them in no sordid sense, believe me, and those
who know me best, best know that. For myself, I
would rather that my children, coming after me,
trudged in the mud, and knew by the general feeling
of society, that their father was beloved and had been
of some use, than I would have them ride in their
carriages and know by their banker's books that he
was rich. But Ido not see, I confess, why one should
he obliged to make the choice, or why- Fame, beside
playing that delightful reveillie for which she is so
justly celebrated, should not blow out of her trum-
pet a few notes of a different kind from those with
which she has hitherto contented herself.
It was well observed the other night by a beautiful
speaker, whose words went to the heart of every man
who heard him, that if there had existed any law in
this respect, Scott might not have sunk beneath the
mighty pressure on his brain, but might have lived to
add new creatures of his fancy to the, crowds which
wound about you in your summer walks, and gather
round your winter evening hearths.
As I listened to his words, there came back, fresh
upon me, that touching scene in the great man's life,
when he lay upon his couch, surrounded by his family,
and listened for the last time to the rippling of the
river he had so well loved, over its stony bed. I pic-
tured him to myself, faint, wan, dying, crushed both
in mind and body by his honourable struggle, and
hovering round him, the phantom of his own Imagina-
tion, Waverley, Ravenswood, Jeanie Deans, Rob Roy,
Caleb Balderstone, Dominie Sampson—all the fami-
liar throng—with cavaliers, and puritans,_ and High-
land chiefs innumerable, overflowing the chamber,
and fading away in the dill distance beyond—I pic-
tured them fresh from traversing the world, and
hanging down their heads in shame and sorrow, that
from all those foreign lands into which they had car-
ried gladness, instruction, and delight for millions,
they biought him not one friendly hand to help to
raise
himfromthat
from
landthat sad,in
whichs d I
his)ed .
own
language waso, nor brought
him
spoken, and in every house and hut at which his own
books were read in his own tongue, one grateful
dollar-piece to buy a garland for his grave. 0 ! if
every man who goes from here, as many do, to look
upon that tomb in Dryburgh Abbey, would but re-
member this, and bring the recollection home !
Gentlemen—l thank you again, and once again,
and many times to that. You have given me a new
are nearest are rasyt birth-day,
and dearest
reason for remembering this day, which is already
ando y
one ofoumhaarvkeignivmeyn cthaloesnedlevri,loit
being
to me a new reason for recollecting it with pride and
interest. Heaven knows that, although I should
grow ever so grey, I shall need nothing to remind me
of this epoch in my life. But I am glad to think
that from this time you are inseparably connected
with every recurrence of this day ; and that on its
periodical return I shall always, in imagination, have
the unfading pleasure of entertaining you as my
guests, in return for the gratification you have af-
forded me to-night.
, England Weekly Review
The Editor of the Nen
makes the following remarks :—" It is needless for us
to say any more about the dinner to Charles Dickens,
Esq., than to refer our readers to the columns of our

THE GRAND LITERARY, FASHIONABLE,
LEGAL, JUDICIAL, AND MISCELLANE-
OUS DINNER TO " BOZ" ON FRIDAY
NIGHT, AT THE CITY HOTEL.
Brighter and brighter shines the sun of Charles
Dickens's popularity. The interest in his movements,
and the desire to see, hear, talk to, eat and drink
with him, instead of diminishing, increases daily.
After the Boz Ball on Monday night, and the tremen,
dous excitement occasioned by it, many thought that
the exhaustion consequent on it, and other little mat-
ters, would produce a reaction. Not a bit of it.
Although Boz has been extremely sick, and con-
fined to the house ever since the night of the ball, he
has been besieged by a dozen of applications to go
out to private parties—to dinner, supper, breakfast,
dejeune a la fourehette—anything and everything to
be dined, and wined, and done everything to, but to
be let alone. However his sickness has been his ex-
cuse, and he has thus far escaped any serious infliction.
But sick or well, nothing could excuse him from
the great dinner last night, given to him by his ad-
mirers at the City Hotel ; and this, by the by, was
one of the most sensible movements that has yet been
made in relation to him since his arrival here. Who
the original projectors of it were we do not exactly
know : but believe that Charles A. Davis, Prescott
Hall, Anthony Barclay, John Duer, M. 11. Grinnell,
Henry Brevoort, Fitz-Greene Halleck, and one or
two others, were the primemovers in carrying it out
to perfection ; and a most splendid affair it was.
The chair was taken by Washington Irving ; on
his right sat Charles Dickens, the honoured guest ; on
his left sat the Rev. Mr.- Bellows. Along this table
sat his Honour the Mayor and other well-known in-
dividuals ; the Mayor being the only layman who
was an invited guest that attended.
After the last course was cleared off, "Non Nobis"
was sung.
Then WASHINGTON halm; rose and said—l never
regretted more than I do at this moment my total
want of the habit of public speaking. For I feel that
I could now wish to give way to the whole current
of my thoughts and feelings ; and yet I feel that I
am like a poor horseman, and that I must be careful
how I get into the saddle or I shall be thrown from
my seat. And yet, on further consideration, Ido
not see much cause to regret this inability of mine
to interest you in this way ; for I feel that there will
be no want of champions ready to take my place ;
see so many of them around me at this moment firmly
seated in their saddle, and who find it difficult to rein
in their steeds, until the signal is given them to start.
So, therefore, I leave the field, and with a few prelimi-
nary remarks I will dispose of my part of the subject.
And yet, I never rose under deeper or more pleasur-
able excitement, or with more feelings of pride as an
author, as I now look around with pride upon this
assembly of my townsmen, met to greet the arrival of
an author among them. I never was more proudly
conscious of the intellectual character of my country-
men than in witnessing this burst of enthusiasm,
which has been echoed from city to city, to welcome
a mere literary visitor to our land.—(Cheers.) Anti

this, too, at a time of great public distress, when every
mind, more or less, is corroded by care, and the most
prosperous among us doubts the foundation of his pro-
sperity. Gentlemen, this enthusiasm is of the right
kind. It speaks well for the people—it speaks well
for our nation. We have been accused of being sor-
did and of being mercenary—and too much given up
to the pursuits of our mere worldly interests. But.

in the Present instance, our enthusiasm has given the
lie to the charge, and has spontaneously arisen in one
wide-spread scene of homage paid to intellect.—
(Cheers.) Gentlemen, it is impossible for me to pro-
ceed—(Here Mr. Irving was almost overcome by his
feelings, but the cheering and enthusiasm was most
tremendous—and cries of "Go on, go on !") I find

it impossible for me to make out a speech : and there-
fore, gentlemen, I'll give you a toast. I'll give you—
" Charles Dickens, the literary guest of the nation."
—(This was received with the most tremendous
cheering, and three times three, and two or three
" Manchesters" over. They were werry unanimous
in this ere thing. The band played. Several werry
enthusiastic gentlemen drank three glasses upon the
strength of their admiration for Boz, and then sat
down. Then, amidst great silence, and with all sorts
of sensible, and sober, and unsober eyes upon him,

Mr. DICKENS rose, and was received with the

most enthusiastic applanse. On its subsidence he
said :—Mr. President and gentlemen, I don't know
how to thank you—l really don't know how. You
might suppose that by dint of custom, and from the
experience von have given me, this difficulty has
diminished, has dwindled into nothing, but I do as-
sure you that the fact is exactly the reverse. Unlike
that 4w: rolling stone which gathers no moss," I have in
my progress to this place collected around me such
a heap of gratulation .and weight of acknowledgment,
that in my power of expressing it I have grown
more and more unwieldy every hour.—(Loud ap-
plause.) I picked up such a quantity of fresh moss,
so to speak—(Laughter)—at a certain brilliant
scene on Monday night, that [thought I never could,
by any possibility, grow any bigger—(Great laughter)
—but crowded upon that, there comes again to night
a new accumulation, of such extent and magnitude,
that 1 am fairly at a stand still, and can roll no more.
—(Laughter, and enthusiastic applause.) Gentlemen,
we know from the authorities that whenever a fairy
stone, or ball, or reel of thread stopped of its own ac-
cord—which I do not—some catastrophe was sure to
be at hand. The precedent, however, stands good in
my case, for remembering the short time I have be-
fore me, in this land of mighty interest, and the poor
opportunities 1 can at best acquire of making myself
acquainted with it, I have felt it almost a duty to de-
cline the honours which my generous friends else-
where would heap, upon me, and henceforth to pass
through the country more quietly. Argus himself,
though he had but one mouth for all his hundred
eyes, would have found the reception of a public en-
tertainment once a week somewhat relaxing to his
vigilance and activity.—(Great laughter and ap-
plause.) And as I would lose no scrap or jot of the
rich mines of gratification and instruction which
await me, I know, on every hand, and of which I
have already derived no small instalment, even from
your hospitals and common gaols, I have resolved to
take up my staff and go upon my way rejoicing, and
for the future to shake hands with Americans, not
out at parties, but at home.—(Long continued cheers.)
And therefore, gentlemen, I say to-night, with a full
heart, and an honest purpose, and a grateful meaning,
that 1 bear with me, and shall ever bear with me, a
deeper sense of your kind, affectionate, and noble
greeting than it is possible to convey in words—that
no European sky without, and no cheerful home
within, shall ever shut out this land from my vision;
that 1 shall often hear your words of welcome in my
quiet room, oftenest when it is most quiet, and see
your faces in the winter evening fire—that if I live
to grow old, the light of this hall, and others like it,
will shine as brightly in my dull eyes fifty years
hence as it does to-night, and that when my course
is run the sympathy you have shown to me shall be
paid back and well remembered, if it so please God,
in the enduring love and honour of my race.—(Loud
and enthusiastic applause.) Gentlemen, one other
word in reference to this tiresome first person sin-
gular,
and I close that theme. I came here in an open,
honest, and confiding spirit, if ever man did, and be-
cause I heartily inclined towards you—if I had felt
otherwise, I should have kept away. As I came here
without the admixture of the hundredth portion of a
grain of base alloy—without the faintest unworthy re-
ference to self in any word I have ever addressed to
you, or in any. sentiment I have ever interchanged
with you, I claim to• night, in reference to the past,
for the last time, my right in reason, truth, and ps-
tice, to appeal to you, as I have done on two former
occasions, on a question of universal literary interest
in both countries. And, gentlemen, I claim this jus-
tice, that I have made the appeal as one who had
some right to speak and to be heard ; and that I have
done so in a frank, and courteous and good-humoured
spirit of deference to those who frankly, courteously,
and good-humouredly differed from me in anv
or in every respect.—(Loud and continued cheers.
For myself, gentlemen, I have only to add, that 1

will ever be as true to you as you have been to me.
—(Loud cheers.) In your enthusiastic approval of
the creations of my fancy, recognised as in a glass,
Your enlightened care for the happiness of the many—
your tender and gentle regard ,for the afflicted and
helpless—for the correction and improvement of the
bad, and the encouragement and solace of the good_
the education and advancement of every member of
society—(Cheers)—my constant and unceasing devo-
tion to the end of inv life to those ends, and to every
other object, to the extent of my humble capacity,
having the common good in view, shall prove to you
that in this respect at least you do not mistake me,
and that the light you shed upon my path was not
unworthily bestowed.—(Cheers.) And now that I
have said this much in reference to myself, let me
have the gratification I have long expected, of saying
a few words in reference to somebody else.—(Laugh-
ter.) There is, in this city, a gentleman, who, at the
conclusion of one of my books—and I well remember
that it was the " Old Curiosity Shop"—wrote to me
in England a letter, so generous, so affectionate, so
manly, that if I had written that book under every
circumstance of disadvantage, discouragement, and
difficulty, instead of with everything to cheer and
urge me on, I should have found in its receipt my
best and happiest reward.—(Cheers.) I answered
him, and he answered me—(Laughter)—and so we
kept on shaking hands autographically—(Laughter)
—as if there were no ocean between us—(Laughter)
—until I came here on Saturday night, longing and
eager to see him.—(Cheers.) And here he sits (said
Dickens, with all the velocity and volubility of a
young " going, going, gone," and slapping Washington
Irving on the back, with most extraordinary Sam
Wellerish gusto, amidst most terrific laughter and
cheering)—and I needn't tell you that it is the
crowning circumstance to me of this night, that he is
here in this capacity.—(Great cheering.) Washing-
ton Irving ! Why, gentlemen, I don't go up stairs to
bed two nights out of seven, as I have a credible wit-
ness very near at hand to prove—(Here Boz gave a
funny Sam Weller sort of a side look out of one eye
half round at his wife, who sat behind Bryant, and
laughed ; she blushed, hid her face in her handker-
chief, and laughed; Miss Sedgwick, who sat next her,
laughed most Immoderately—the Mayor laughed in-
tolerably—altogether, too much for a Mayor—Judges
Betts, Jones, and Tallmadge laughed 'heartily, we
must not say ridiculously, else we shall be indicted,
and Judge Kent might make a grave speech to
Bunkam about the immorality of the press.
The parson laughed, and all laughed, like true
Pickwickians.) I say, Gentlemen, Ido not go
to bed two nights out of any seven without taking
Washington Irving under my arm up stairs to bed
with me. (Here the laughter was nearly loud enough
to wake the dead in the adjoining church-yard of Old
Trinity) and when I don't take him, I take his next of
kin—his own brother—Oliver Goldsmith.—(Cheers.)
Washington Irving! Why, who but he was in my
thoughts the other day as I approached your noble
city, when I was looking out for the Hog's-hack, the
Frying-pan, and Hell's-gate, and all those terrible
places of renown, that were a terror to Dutch naviga-
tors !—(Laughter and cheers.) Washington Irving!
Why, when I was in the birth-place of Shakspere
a few years ago, whose name but his was the first
that was pointed out with pride upon the wall !
Diedrich Knickerbocker, and Geoffrey Crayon !
Why, where can we go that they have not been be-
fore us ? In the English farm house, in the peaceful
village, in the crowded city, along the beautiful
lanes, across the pleasant fields of England, and
amidst her blessed happy homes, his name above
every name rises up with rich and hallowed recollections
if his virtues and talents, and like his memory will
continue to be hallowed in those bright and innocent
sanctuaries, until the last tick of the clock of Time.
—(Tremendous cheering.) If we go into the country
are there no Bracebridge Halls in existence ? If e
visit the crowded city has Little Britain never had a
chronicler ? Is there no Boar's Head in Eastcheap ?
Why, gentlemen, when Mr. Crayon left England, he
left sitting in a small back parlour of a certain public
'louse near that very Boar s head a man of infinite
xisdom, kith a red nose and an oil-skinned hat, who
vas sitting there when I came away. Yes, gentle-
men, it was the same man—not a man that was
very like him—but the selfsame man—hi., nose in an
immortal redness, and his hat in an undying glaze.
(Boz said this with such inimitable naivete and humour
that the whole company, ladies and all, including Wash-
•ngton Irving, were literally convulsed with laughter.)
Why, Mr. Crayon was also on terms of intimacy
in a certain village near that same Bracebridge Hall,
with a certain radical fellow who went very much
out at the elbow, with his hat stuffed full of old
newspapers. Gentlemen, I knew the man. (Laugh-
ter.) He's there to this very hour, with the news-
papers in his hat, very much to the dissatisfaction of
Nlr. Tibbitts the elder.—(Great laughter.) Gentle-
men, leaving the town and rustic life of London, and
forgetting for a moment if anybody can, the " Pride
of the Village" and the "Broken Heart," let us cross
the waters again, and ask who has associated himself
most with the Italian Post House, and the Bandits
of the Pyrenees ? When the traveller is lighted to
his chamber, along dark, echoing, and spacious cord-
inns, very gloomy and very cold,—when he has sat
down by the fire to watch the gradual change of his
room from misery to comfort, and has drawn his
curtains, such as they are, moth eaten and mouldy,
over the window—thinking of all the ghost stories
that ever he has read or heard told, until the thick-
coming fancies crowd around and in upon his brain—
who is it that he thinks of at. such a time ? Why,
Washington Irving !—(Cheers.) Go further away
still, to the Moorish Fountain, sparkling in the full
moonlight, with a few water-carriers and village
gossips, lingering about it still for its refreshing
coolness, and the voices of others going to the village
dying away in the distance like bees, who, at such
an hour, takes his silent stand beside the traveller,
and points with his magic wand to the walls of the
Alhambra ? Who awakens in every cave the echoing
music, the tread of many feet, the sound of cymbals,
the rattling clang of armour, the tramp of mailed
men, and bids all those Moors who for centuries have
slept a dreamless sleep, within the earth, watched
unwinkingly for buried treasure—who bids them start
up, and walk in grim array before his e=yes ?—(Loud
cheers.) Or leaving this, who leaps with Columbus
into his gallant ship—who stands beside Win on the
main—and waves the flag of Spain—(Loud cheers)
—who but this same man ? And who, again, to
come to your own coast, is fit company for the buc-
caneers and money-diggers ? Or who fit to accom-
pany Rip Van Winkle in his fearful journey to the
mountain, where the uncouth crew did play at nine-
pins on that thundery afternoon ?—(Roars of laugh-
ter.) What pen but his could make /these creatures
as much a part and parcel of those Catskill mountains,
as any crag that ever frowned, or torrent that ever
darted headlong from their heights ?—(Cheers.) But,
Gentlemen, this is a most dangerous theme for me ;
for I have been enchanted with these people, I am
sorry to say, in one sense, from my boyhood, and my
glass-slipper is on me still. I will conclude, then,
by giving a sentiment—most appropriate in the pre-
sence of such a company as Bryant and Halleck—
ladies, I suppose, I mustn't mention—l will give
you "The Literature of America—she well knows
how to honour her own literature, and to do honour
to that of other lands, when she chooses Washington
Irving as her representative in the country of Cer-
vantes !"

We have not room for other speeches.
head of

" BOZ MANIA,"

Under the

the Editor of the New York Herald observes
" With this dinner, we believe, closes the Boz
mania in all its public manifestations. Charles
Dickens's measure of popularity is now full. He has
been indicted, tried, found guilty and punished by
several surfeits and fits of sickness, which will require
several weeks to get over. After that revival, he in-
tends to take his scrip and hat, and go along among
the " highwais and byways " to find out, very quietly,
the characteristics of American society and Ameri-
can life.
"We congratulate Dickens on his escape—and we
trust lie will be very careful hereafter how he commits
any more offences against the vanities of his contem-
poraries. He sticks, however, to his opinions of an
international copyright, from his first speech to his
last. We like this feature. It indicates a species 5f
the real bull dog character, which every person can
appreciate."

HERR DOHDDR, THE CONJUROR.—This .amtising
magician continues to attract crowds. His tricks are infinitelY
amusing : among others is that of the " miraculous washing."
" Herr" borrows eight or ten handkerchiefs, of every hue and
texture, puts them into a bucket, and pours water upon them ;
an e»ipty basket is then put upon the table, which has no visi-
ble communication with any other part of the stage; the
empty basket is lifted up, and, out jumps a live 13/and/ismer/se,
leaving the astounded audience to " wonder how the devil she
got there." . The washerwoman acts to work, and whilst she is
washing, the handkerchiefs are restored to their owners,
washed and ironed.

IVe hear that one of the privates of the Scots Greys,
now stationed at Enter, received one hundred lashes on Satur-
day morning, for rtp'atedly
.pilfering the rations of his coin-
dm—Dec:of/lire Chroucle.

NATURE OF THE OFFICE, AND ABOLISHMENT OF
PERQUISITES AND TAXES.
The announcement which some weeks ago The Sun.
was the first to make, of the acceptance by his High-
ness Prince Albert of the Lord Wardenship of the
Cornwall Stannaries, and the Vice-Stewardship of
the county in connection with that of Devon, having
received due affirmation in the Gazette, we now
proceed to notice the nature and dignity of these an-
cient offices; which have become so highly and ho-
nourably filled, in the person of the Prince, as well
as the benefit which he has conferred upon this great
mining county at large, by the handsome relinquish-
ment of the emoluments arising out of the taxes of
the office.
The King or Prince of Wales, as Duke of Corn-
wall, has from a very remote period, levied a duty of
4s. 6d. per cwt., or ,a a ton,* upon all the tin raised in
his Duchy; the tin raised in Devonshire is subject to
a similar duty of 11. 13s. 4d. a ton. This duty has
hitherto produced from 16,000/. to 20,0001. a vear.t
Now the net revenue it has yielded to the Crown has
been comparatively nothing, the produce being nearly
absorbed in the expenses of collection ; but the re-
strictions on the smelters for the sake of levying the
duty have been all along exceedingly vexatious, and
far more onerous than the amount of the tax. It has
long been acknowledged as an impost, which, not
levied or professed to he levied for the benefit of the
public, ought long ago to have been remitted in Coto,
even if it had been necessarg to compensate the officers
who hold places under the Duke's patent.
In a clever pamphlet, attributed to the pen of Sir
Charles Lemon,t we find the following passage re
ferring to the origin of' the tax, and his opinion at that
time, that due season had arrived for its abolition :
"The right from which this duty emanates," says Sir
Charles, " has every claim to respect on the gm-and
of antiquity, § and rests on the faith of chatters re-
peatedly. from as far hack as the reign of
( e
earliest charters still recognising
renewed,
as an ancient jurisdiction. But form-
erly large indulgences were given to the tinners in
return for the tax raised on their labour. They were
protected from pleas of villanage. and could be sued
only iii their own Courts; they were exempt from
military service, that they might not be interrupted.
-in their work : they were exempt from tolls at mar-
ket, and other taxes. Concedimus ut Stannatores
sint quieti de muragiis, stallagiis taxationibus, et
eontributionibus.' "ll
They were allowed to divert streams, and cut fuel
6)r the use of their works ; and subsequently they
were exempt from the duty on the transport of
woollens, to which Devon was subject, for the express
reason that they paid a larger tax on the staple article
of their produce. These advantages, of course,_ have
long since ceased, and -the burden of taxationhas re-
mained unalleviated up to the present minute, till his
Highness, no doubt from proper presentations of the
case, has generously ceded to these hard-working
people gratuitous absolution from further grievance.
To what extent the grievance thus spoken of,
pressed upon the Stannary capitalists and workers,
we shall now proceed to show, evidenced by the vexa-
tious regulations under which, up to the present
moment, the tax" has been collected.
Though the orders sent to the miner were for tin of
a particular description, he was not allowed to smelt it
at once into the required form, but was obliged to
cast it, in the first instance, into blocks. This regula-
tion being complied with, it would have been expected
that the tin would be surveyed by officers at the smelt-
ing house, and the duty charged accordingly ; but in-
stead of this the miner was obliged to convey it as fin-
as eight or ten miles, to one of the coinage towns, where
it was, and where it only could be, coined : that is, a small
piece was struck off one of the corners, and the block
was impressed with the arms of the Duchy, and the
duty paid. This useless ceremony having been gone
through, the tin had frequently to be carried back,
before it could be shipped, to the very place where it
was taken to be citined!'ff Another grievance was.,
that the coinage was only performed quarterly, so
that however pressing the demand might be in the in-
terim, the miner could not supply it. There were also
certain fees payable on the coinage, particularly if it
took place during the Christmas and Lady-day quar-
ters ; so that the actual tax, if there were added to
the duty of 4/. a ton, those charges, and reasonable
allowance made at the same time for the expense of
carriage, and the trouble and inconvenience to Which
the miner was put, the whole might be moderately
estimated at 51. a ton.
These duties, indeed, it is equitably observed by
M'Culloch,** were not unbearable, so long as we en-
joyed a sort of monopoly of the tin trade ; then the
Duchy duty was comparatively little felt; but when
the time came, that we had to sustain a competition
with Batten, the Malay peninsula and other parts of
the East, which sank the price of tin about 50 per
cent., and which every day became more and more
evere, it became quite oppressive. Surely it was
not premature to consider that it was not to be en.
(lured, that the existence of an ancient and important
branch of industry, supposed to afford employment to
about 20,000 persons, should be endangered, that the
Crown might gain the inconsiderable revenue which
it was in the habit of receiving into its coffers.
OFFICE OF AND DIGNITY OF LORD WARDEN.
In the reign of Edward 1. the Cornish miners were
seperated from those of Devonshire. Their laws,
recited in Plowden's Commentaries, were further ex-
plained by 5.0 Edward lII.' confirmed, and enlarged
by Parliament, 8 Richard 11., 3 Edward IV., I Ed-
ward IV.' I and 2 Philip and Mary, and 2 Elizabeth.
and the whole Society divided into four parts or Stan-
naries, under one general Warden, to do justice in law
and equity. .The Lord Warden appoints a Vice.
Warden, to determine all Stannary disputes every
month ; he also constitutes four Stewards, one for each
of the precincts before-mentioned, who hold their
Courts every three weeks, and decide by juries of six.
persons.
THE STANNART COURTS : THEIR LAWS, 8:C.
The Stannary Courts are held at the end of every
three weeks before the Steward of each of the four
" Stannaries," or mining districts : in these Courts all
civil actions, in which either plaintiff or defendant is
a privileged timer, are tried before the Steward and
a Jury : front these Courts an appeal lies to the Vice-
Warden, and from him as in other cases. The four
St:um:lry districts are Fov More, Blackmore, Ty-
warnhaile, and Penwith and Kerrier. The Stan-
nary laws are revised, or new ones enacted, by the
Duke and his Council, with the consent of what is
called the Stannary Parliament, consisting of 24
Stannators, gentlemen of property in the mining dis-
tricls' chosen six for each Stannary. The last Stan-
nary Parliament was held at Truro in 1752, and con-
tinued by adjournments to September 1753. The
Stannary laws have been repeatedly published. The
Stannary prison was at Lostwithiel, but by the re-
cent Act is now at Bodtnin.l.' The ancient records of
the Stannaries were kept at Lostwithiel till they were
burnt in the great civil war Of Charles 1., in 1664, by
the Parliamentary army.
ADVANTAGES OF TILL' STANNART COURTS.—The
advantages arising from the Stannary Courts are :
That all tinners and labourers in and about the Stan-
naries shall, during the time of their working there*
holm
.fide, claim to be free from all jurisdiction but
that of the. Stannary Courts, except in eases affecting
land, life, and limb. The Vice-Warden's Court is
held once a month, and is o court of equity for all
matters relating to the tin-mines and trade : no writ
of error lies to the Courts at Westminster, but there is
an appeal to the Warden, and from him to the Duke
in council, or when the Duchy is vacant, to the King
in council.
OFFICERS OF TILE STANNARY COURTS.—The im-
mediate government of the county is vested in the
Duke, who has his Chancellor, Attorney-General, and
Solicitor-General, and his Court of Exchequer. He
also appoints the Sheriffs. Mr. Pemberton, and other
eminent legal men, at present fill these offices. We
had omitted to mention with regard to the tin-duty,
that before the war of 1793 it had amounted to 14,000/.
per annum.
Stannary, according to the etymologists, is a de-
rivative from the Latin word fir Tin, which is Stan-
num ; this, in the aboriginal Irish dialect, is stall; iu
the Welsh, ?Islam; and. in French the word assumes.
the form of estain.

• See an able paper on the " Tin Trade," in the Spectator
of August 25, 1832.
t Vide APCullock's Dictionary of Commerce. sub articalo.4
Pamphlet on the Tin Duties. Bvo. Ridgway, 1833—,
PP. 56. -

§ Lansdowne M.SS. vol. 1,215, page 151. " The Kiugre•
prerogative arises from the silver mixed with the tin, which isa
a royal metal, and the King might claim all of it."
II Vide Charter of Liberties, 33 Edward LI Charter ir
Edward 111., and others.
Pamphlet on the Tin Duties, ut supra.
* See Dictionary of Trade and Commerce.
tt 6th and 7th Wm. IV. cap. 106.

MONEY MARKET and CITY NEWS.;

FROM THE MORNING PAPERS OF SATURDAY.
TIMES.—A Gazette extraordinary published at earaccas orb
the Ist of March mentions the arrival of a communication,
from M. Fortique, the representative of Venezuela in this cowl--
try, containing an official notice, on the authority of Lord.
Aberdeen, that the British Government have determined too
remove the landmarks laid down by M. Schoenberg, the com-.
missioner, near the Orinoco, in the course of his survey.
Orders to this effect Were to be given to the Governor of Bri...
tish Guiana, but it is distinctly understood that the British
Government does net abandon any part of the territory formerly-
held by the Dutch. The conduct of our Government seems, .
by the tone of the paper, to have given the highest satisfaction .
in Venezuela.
It is said that the suspension of payment by Messrs..
Ralston, mentioned yesterday, will occasion some delay in the'
payment of the dividends on Virginia Six per Cent. Stock. ev
a portion of those dividends was remitted in the shape of bit!s
upon that firm. With respect to the Pennsylvania dividends
1 received the other day by 111essrs. Dennison, it should be ob-
served, that those are dividends on so much of the Pennsylvania
Stock as 'is held as a part guarantee for the " United States
Bank " 13.onds, amounting to above 60 per cent. of the interest
on those bonds, the remainder being guaranteed by the in-
solvent States of Mississippi and Michigan.