All that's bright must fade,

to plead at the bar of criticism. As a man, he cated to Melpomene. His genius seemed as proli would not submit to be morally amenable to the fic as various. The most prodigal use did not extribunal of public opinion. Remonstrances from a haust his powers, but seemed rather to increase friend, of whose intentions and kindness he was se- their vigour. Neither Childe Harold, nor any of cure, had often great weight with him; but there the most beautiful of his earlier tales, contain more were few who could venture on a task so difficult. exquisite morsels of poetry than are to be found Reproof he endured with impatience, and reproach scattered through the cantos of Don Juan, amidst hardened him in his error; so that he often resem-verses which he appears to have thrown off with bled the gallant war-steed, who rushes forward on an effort as spontaneous as that of a tree resigning the steel that wounds him. In the most painful cri- its leaves to the wind. But that noble tree will sis of his private life, he evinced this irritability never more bear fruit or blossom! It has been cut and impatience of censure in such a degree, as al- down in its strength, and the past is all that remost to resemble the noble victim of the bull-fight, mains to us of Byron. We can scarce reconcile which is more maddened by the squibs, darts, and ourselves to the idea-scarce think that the voice petty annoyances of the unworthy crowds beyond is silent forever, which, bursting so often on our the lists, than by the lance of his nobler, and (so ear, was often heard with rapturous admiration, to speak) his more legitimate antagonist. In a word, sometimes with regret, but always with the deepmuch of that in which he erred was in bravado and est interest: scorn of his censors, and was done with the motive of Dryden's despot, to show his arbitrary The brightest still the fleetest. power.' It is needless to say that his was a false "With a strong feeling of awful sorrow, we take and prejudicial view of such a contest; and if the leave of the subject. Death creeps upon our most noble bard gained a sort of triumph, by compel- serious as well as upon our most idle employments; ling the world to read poetry, though mixed with and it is a reflection solemn and gratifying, that he baser matter, because it was his, he gave in return found our Byron in no moment of levity, but conan unworthy triumph to the unworthy, beside tributing his fortune, and hazarding his life, in bedeep sorrow to those whose applause, in his cool-half of a people only endeared to him by their past er moments, he most valued. glories, and as fellow-creatures suffering under the "It was the same with his politics, which on yoke of a heathen oppressor. To have fallen in a several occasions assumed a tone menacing and crusade for freedom and humanity, as in olden contemptuous to the constitution of his country; times, it would have been an atonement for the while, in fact, he was in his own heart sufficiently blackest crimes, and may in the present be allowsensible, not only of his privileges as a Briton, but ed to expiate greater follies than even exaggerated of the distinction attending his high birth and rank, calumny has propagated against Byron.” and was peculiarly sensitive of those shades which The first person on whom his majesty George constitute what is termed the manners of a gentle-IV conferred a baronetage, was sir Walter Scott; man. Indeed, notwithstanding his having employ- and in August, 1822, when the king honoured ed epigrams, and all the petty war of wit, when Edinburgh with a visit, sir Walter acted as crousuch would have been much better abstained from, pier, or vice-president, at a dinner given by the he would have been found, had a collision taken lord Provost and corporation, to the royal guest. place between the different parties in the state, In the summer of 1825, sir Walter paid a visit to exerting all his energies in defence of that to which Ireland, where he was most hospitably received by he naturally belonged. the sons of the Shamrock. During his stay in Dub"We are not Byron's apologists, for now, alas!lin he frequently visited the library adjoining St. he needs none. His excellencies will now be uni- Patrick's cathedral; on one of these occasions the versally acknowledged, and his faults (let us hope deputy librarian, who happened to be a collegian, and believe) not remembered in his epitaph. It having got into conversation with the (then) will be recollected what a part he has sustained" Great unknown," wished to take him by surin British literature since the first appearance of prise, and thereby prove his own dexterity. With Childe Harold, a space of nearly sixteen years. this view he exclaimed, "Oh, sir Walter, do you There has been no reposing under the shade of know that it was only lately I have had time to get his laurels, no living upon the resource of past re-through your Redgauntlet." "Sir," replied sir putation; none of those petty precautions which Walter, "I never met with such a book." The little authors call taking care of their fame. Byron librarian stood rebuked, and said nothing. let his fame take care of itself. His foot was always As sir Walter and a friend were one day slowly in the arena, his shield hung always in the lists; sauntering along the High-street, Edinburgh, their and although his own gigantic renown increased ears were saluted by the cries of an Italian vender the difficulty of the struggle, since he could pro- of images, who, in broken English, was extolling duce nothing, however great, which exceeded the his brittle ware to excite custom. The chief bur public estimate of his genius, yet he advanced to then of the itinerant merchant's song, however, the honourable contest again and again, and came was the bust of de Grate Unknown, which he dealways off with distinction, almost always with com-clared to be a perfect likeness. He now offered plete triumph. As various in composition as Shak-his wares to the inspection of our two gentlemen, speare himself (this will be admitted by all who still dwelling upon " de Grate unknown," as de are acquainted with his Don Juan,) he has em- "most parfaite likeness of de wonderful original braced every topic in human life, and sounded every himself." The friend of sir Walter desired him string on the divine harp, from its slightest to its to look at the features of the latter, when the poor most powerful and heart-astounding tones. There fellow, in an ecstasy of joy, exclaimed, "tis he, is scarce a passion or a situation which has escaped 'tis de grand unknown! I make my most profits his pen; and he might be drawn, like Garrick, be- by him, and I will beg him to take von, two, tree tween the weeping and the laughing muse, although images, all vat he like, for not any ting." his most powerful efforts have certainly been dedi

The following lively description of sir Walter's

advocate, and appearing, I have no doubt, very curious, he gazed upon me-we looked at each other, like poor Sterne and the fair glover, for some time—it was curiosity in me, but condescension in him."

personal appearance was written by a gentleman vho visited Edinburgh about two years ago:"My departure from —was so sudden, that I had no time to seek letters of introduction; and the Scotch are not naturally fond of introductions which only give them trouble; but I had resolved It is not generally known that there was a poet upon seeing sir Walter Scott before I left Edin- of the name of Walter Scott, before the present burgh, and, had Constable been open, I could have celebrated bard. He lived about the middle of the been at no loss, but his door was unfortunately seventeenth century, and describes himself as shut. I contrived, however, to get an introduction An old souldier and no scholler; to Mr., the historical painter, with whom I And one that can write none knew the poet was acquainted, and with whom it But just the letters of his name. appears he spends many an hour, but I was just On the death of his grandfather, sir Robert Scott, thirty minutes too late! Sir Walter had been there, of Thirlstone, his father, having no means to bring had told the painter some anecdotes which he as-up his children, put this Walter to attend cattle in sured me threw him into convulsions, and that he the field; "but," says he, "I gave them the short had been laughing ever since; and I believed him, cut at last, and left the kine in the corn; and ever for he was hardly out of a convulsion when I en- since that time, I have continued a souldier abroad tered. Disappointed-I proceeded to the parlia- and at home." He left a poem written at the age ment-house (where sir Walter sits as chief clerk of seventy-three, dedicated to two gentlemen of to the lord commissioners,) and as soon as I found the name of Scott, which he thus concludes: out my way into court, I had the good luck to find Begone my book, stretch forth thy wings and fly, the object of my pursuit. I needed no monitor to Amongst the nobles and gentility; point him out--I knew him instantly. I had never Thou'rt not to sell to scavengers and clowns, seen him before in my life; but I had read some of But given to worthy persons of renown. bis works, and, from the pictorial and ideal togeth- My charges have been great, and I hope reward; The number's few I've printed, in regard er, I had formed in my mind his face exactly-and I caused not to print many above twelve score, had I seen him hobbling in his favourite Prince's-And the printers are engaged that they shall print no more. street,' I should have known him to be sir Walter Scott. I pushed on to the advocates' bench (a place Scott, Mr. H. Mackenzie, and Mr. Alisont hapLately at a private dinner-party, sir Walter reserved exclusively for the advocates,) to be as pened to be present. In taking their seats, sans near him as possible-there I had no right to be, cérémonie, the baronet found himself placed becertainly, but, much to the credit of Scotch man-tween these two illustrious individuals. The reBers, they saw I was a stranger-knew no better lative position of these three celebrated characters and they suffered me to remain. On first behold- soon attracted the attention of a gentleman present, ing sir W. Scott, I felt all the veneration which is who exclaimeddue to the good and the great. I confess I could have knelt down and worshipped him, though to Our host hath his guests most happily placed; See Genius supported by Feeling and Taste. man I never bent a knee. I shall endeavour to describe his person-he is tall, five feet ten or eleven We know of no species of composition so deinches, rather stout than otherwise, but not corpu-lightful as that which presents us with personal lent-appears to be about sixty-is healthy, but anecdotes of eminent men; and if its greatest charm lamed in one of his legs, and walks with difficulty. be in the gratification of our curiosity, it is a cuHis hair is pure white, and, falling thinly over his riosity, at least, that has its origin in enthusiasm. ruddy forehead, gives him a venerable aspect. You We are anxious to know all that is possible to be might fancy him the Village Preacher of Oliver known of those who have an honoured place in pubGoldsmith, and his costume heightens the resem-lic opinion. It is not merely that every circumstance blance. His complexion is ruddy. His head is derives a value from the person to whom it relates; singularly formed; uncommonly high from the eye- but an apparently insignificant anecdote often throws brows to the crown, and tapers upwards, some- an entirely new light on the history of the most what in the conical form, but there is no projec-admired works: the most noble actions, intellectual tion of forehead, the bump which philosophers lay discoveries, or brilliant deeds, though they shed so much stress upon as being a sign of great intel- a broad and lasting lustre round those who have lect. His eyes are small, and I think dark-blue-achieved them, occupy but a small portion of the you can seldom catch their expression, on account life of an individual; and we are not unwilling to of the great projection of the eye-brows; but when penetrate the dazzling glory, and to see how the you do, the look is divine; they express a mine of remaining intervals are filled up-to look into the intellect, and a kind heart. I wonder many who minor details, to detect incidental foibles, and to have seen him say, his countenance is expressive be satisfied what qualities they have in common of shrewd cunning'-there is no cunning in his with ourselves, as well as distinct from us, entitled looks-nothing but goodness and genius. His to our pity, or raised above our imitation. manners are prepossessing, and he is very acces- heads of great men, in short, are not all we want sible. I perceived, whenever an advocate or law- to get a sight of; we wish to add the limbs, the man came to speak with him, he took him kind-drapery, the back-ground. It is thus that, in the ly by the hand-and then looked so kindly. The intimacy of retirement, we enjoy with them " calm Scotch venerate him, as well they may: suum contemplation and poetic ease." We see the caremagnum ingenium honorem illis facit.' I gazed on this extraordinary man until his image was indelibly engraven on my organs of vision; and, were I a portrait painter, I could now paint his likeness from recollection. Observing I was a stranger, placed in the advocates' seat, and no

The

less smile play upon their expressive features; we
hear the dictates of unstudied wisdom, or the sal-
lies of sportive wit fall without disguise from their
• The celebrated author of the "Man of Feeling."
+Author of "Essays on the Nature and Principles of
Taste."

lips; we see, in fine, how poets, and philosophers, and Robertson intimately. In his life of John and scholars, live, converse, and behave. With Home, he has charmingly described the literary these sentiments, our readers will not be surprised society of Edinburgh during the second half of the at our introducing here the following literary and last century. He is a poet and romance-writer; a miscellaneous dialogue, translated from the tour poet in versification, and a poet also in his prose of an eminent foreigner. fictions; indeed, it is difficult for a good romancewriter not to be so in some degree. He is an ingenious critic in his periodical essays (the Mirror and Lounger,) and a pathetic author in his novels. There is a little of Sterne's manner in his Man of Feeling; the pathos of Julia de Roubigné is more natural and pure.'

"SIR W. SCOTT.- Well, doctor, how did you like the banks of the Tweed and Melrose Abbey?' DR. PICHOT. They are worthy of the bard who has sung them. I, besides, paid a visit to Abbotsford, and surveyed with interest your Gothic sculptures, your armoury, and pictures, some of which are speaking representations. I shall now ⚫ re-peruse, with double pleasure, the Lay of the Last Minstrel, and your other works.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT. Are you acquainted with the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border?'

DR. PICHOT.- Scotland continues to enrich English literature with its best works. Thomas Campbell is a Scotchman.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT. A Scotchman and a great poet. Lord Byron is also a little Scotch.' DR. PICHOT.-May I ask you on what terms you are?'

DR. PICHOT.- A great part of it; but more especially with your own imitations of the old border ballads. It was, I believe, your first publication?' SIR WALTER SCOTT.-"I received a letter from SIR WALTER SCOTT.-Not exactly. I made him yesterday. We are in correspondence, and my début in 1799, with an imitation of some bal-that of an amicable and intimate description." lads of Bürger, and a translation of the chivalresque DR. PICHOT.-He has scoffed a little at Scotdrama of Goethe, Goetz von Berlichingen. These land.' essays procured me the acquaintance of the famous Lewis, author of the Monk, and surnamed Monk Lewis. He was a very agreeable man, whose imagination was particularly fond of the supernatural, and of popular superstitions. I read to him my Eve of St. John and Glenfinlas; and he requested my permission to insert these two poems in his Tales of Wonder.'

DR. PICHOT.I should apprehend that the Monk of Lewis is a little out of fashion.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT.It is a work written with power. It produced an effect, although it came after the romances of Mrs. Radcliffe. Like the latter, Lewis chose the south as the seat of his action: in a southern atmosphere, passions as well as vegetation have more energy; passion is wanted in works of this kind. The marvellous alone will not suffice for so sceptical an age as this. I should have liked Mrs. Radcliffe more, if she had been less anxious about the explanation of her mysteries. Lewis wrote as if he believed.'

DR. PICHOT.-Might not Mrs. Radcliffe, as a woman, be in dread of passing for superstitious?' SIR WALTER SCOTT.-It may be so. Her works, compared with the common novel, are what melodrames are, compared with tragedies and comedies. Terror is their chief spring of action. But there are some good melo-drames. Walpole created the melo-dramatic romance; but Mrs. Radcliffe surpassed Walpole. Lewis and Maturin have alone come near Mrs. Radcliffe. The Montorio Family is a very astonishing work.'

DR. PICHOT.Was your Goetz von Berlichingen published at Edinburgh?'

SIR WALTER SCOTT.- No, I published it at London, where I then was. It is from the same epoch that my acquaintance with Messrs. Canning and Frere commenced.'

DR. PICHOT. You have contributed to transfer a portion of the English bookselling business to Edinburgh.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT.-Authors doubtless make publishers; but Mr. Archibald Constable has done much for Scotch authorship.'

DR. PICHOT.-Scotland has always supplied great men to the literary republic.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT.- The patriarch of our authors is Mr. Henry Mackenzie, who knew Hume

SIR WALTER SCOTT.- The Edinburgh Review went much too far. Lord Byron is very irritable.'

DR. PICHOT.-'I saw the portrait of Mr. Jeffrey at Abbotsford. I presume you are friendly.' SIR WALTER SCOTT.-Yes; he is one of our literary notables, and a distinguished barrister.' DR. PICHOT. Have you also appeared at the bar?'

."

SIR WALTER SCOTT.-Like all young barristers, I have pleaded on criminal trials.'

"I shall here add, from the authority of Mr. Lockhart, that sir Walter, when called to the bar, at the age of twenty-one, gave but few testimonies of his talent. He once, however, had an opportunity of speaking before the General Assembly, and the question having suddenly kindled his powers, he expressed himself with a flood of eloquence. The famous Dr. Blair was present, and said aloud, This young barrister will be a great man.'

"I resume our dialogue. DR. PICHOT.- You quitted pleading for a judicial situation.'

SIR WALTER SCOTT.-'I was not appointed clerk of the Court of Session till after I had published Marmion. I was already sheriff of Selkirkshire.'

"Lady Scott entered the drawing-room, and laid a box on the table, which she opened, and showed to Mr. Crabbe, and then to me: this box contained a kind of cockade or St. Andrew's cross, composed of pearls and precious stones found on the coast of Scotland.

LADY SCOTT.-It is a St. Andrew's cross, which the ladies of Scotland have commissioned sir Walter to present to his majesty before he alights. It is the work of a lady of high rank and great beauty.'

་

"I naturally admired the cross, the pearls, and the delicacy of the workmanship. Two children now entered; one the youngest son of sir Walter, and the other, I believe, a brother of Mr. Lockhart; those are his majesty's two pages,' said lady Scott to me; and she explained to me that they would be pages only during the residence of the king at Edinburgh. I asked sir Walter if he had not another son; and he replied, that he had a son twenty years of age, a lieutenant in the army."

The late dreadful crisis in the commercial world, which began with the bankers and ended with the

booksellers, caused the failure of the house of men by whom they were passed, and to the legisConstable and Co. of Edinburgh, who were not lators by whom they were adopted. What were only the publishers of our author's works, but the times in which these laws were passed? Was with whom he was associated in business, as a it not when virtue was seldom inculcated as a mosleeping partner. This disastrous event necessari-ral duty, that we were required to relinquish the ly removed the thin veil which had hitherto concealed the "Great Unknown" from the full gaze of an admiring public. The avowal of sir Walter himself was made at the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund Dinner, the details of which, from their peculiar interest in relation to the subject of this sketch, we are bound to lay fully before our readers.

"The first Annual Dinner of the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund was held yesterday (24th Feb. 1827,) in the Assembly rooms, sir Walter Scott in the chair; and near whom sat the earl of Fife, lord Meadowbank, sir John Hope of Pinkie, bart., admiral Adam, baron Clerk Rattray, Gilbert Innes, esq., James Walker, esq., Robert Dundas, esq., Alexander Smith, esq., &c.

"After dinner the usual toasts were given, when the chairman, in an appropriate speech, proposed the memory of his late royal highness the duke of York.-Drank in solemn silence.

most rational of all our amusements, when the clergy were enjoined celibacy, and when the laity were denied the right to read their bibles. He thought that it must have been from a notion of penance that they erected the drama into an ideal place of profaneness, and the tent of sin. He did not mean to dispute that there were many excellent persons who thought differently from him, and they were entitled to assume that they were not guilty of any hypocrisy in doing so. He gave them full credit for their tender consciences, in making these objections, which did not appear to him relevant to those persons, if they were what they usurp themselves to be; and if they were persons of worth and piety, he should crave the liberty to tell them, that the first part of their duty was charity, and that if they did not choose to go to the theatre, they at least could not deny that they might give away, from their superfluity, what was required for the relief of the sick, the support of "The chairman (SIR WALTER SCOTT) then re- the aged, and the comfort of the afflicted. These quested that gentlemen would fill a bumper, as full were duties enjoined by our religion itself. (Loud as it would hold, while he would say only a few cheers.) The performers are in a particular manwords. He was in the habit of hearing speeches, ner entitled to the support or regard, when in old and he knew the feeling with which long ones were age or distress, of those who had partaken of the regarded. He was sure that it was perfectly unne- amusements of those places which they render an cessary for him to enter into any vindication of ornament to society. Their art was of a peculiarthe dramatic art, which they had come here to ly delicate and precarious nature. They had to support. This, however, he considered to be the serve a long apprenticeship. It was very long beproper time and proper occasion for him to say a fore even the first-rate geniuses could acquire the few words on that love of representation which mechanical knowledge of the stage business. They was an innate feeling in human nature. It was the must languish long in obscurity before they can first amusement that the child had-it grew great- avail themselves of their natural talents; and after er as he grew up; and, even in the decline of life, that, they have but a short space of time, during nothing amused so much as when a common tale which they are fortunate if they can provide the is well told. The first thing a child does is to ape means of comfort in the decline of life. That comes his schoolmaster, by flogging a chair. It was an late, and lasts but a short time, after which they enjoyment natural to humanity. It was implanted are left dependent. Their limbs fail, their teeth in our very nature, to take pleasure from such re- are loosened, their voice is lost, and they are left, presentations, at proper times, and on proper occa- after giving happiness to others, in a most disconsions. In all ages the theatrical art had kept pace solate state. The public were liberal and generous with the improvement of mankind, and with the to those deserving their protection. It was a sad progress of letters and the fine arts. As he has ad- thing to be dependent on the favour, or, he might vanced from the ruder stages of society, the love of say, in plain terms, on the caprice of the public; dramatic representations has increased, and all and this more particularly for a class of persons works of this nature have been improved, in cha- of whom extreme prudence is not the character. racter and in structure. They had only to turn There might be instances of opportunities being their eyes to the history of ancient Greece, al- neglected; but let them tax themselves, and conthough he did not pretend to be very deeply sider the opportunities they had neglected, and versed in ancient history. Its first tragic poet the sums of money they had wasted; let every gencommanded a body of troops at Marathon. The tleman look into his own bosom, and say whether second and next were men who shook Athens these were circumstances which would soften his with their discourses, as their theatrical works own feelings, where he to be plunged into distress. shook the theatre itself. If they turned to France, He put it to every generous bosom-to every better in the time of Lewis the fourteenth, that era in the feeling--to say what consolation was it to old age classical history of that country, they would find to be told that you might have made provision at that it was referred to by all Frenchmen as the a time which had been neglected--(loud cheers) golden age of the drama there. And also in En---and to find it objected, that if you had pleased gland, in the time of queen Elizabeth, the drama you might have been wealthy. He had hitherto began to mingle deeply and wisely in the general been speaking of what, in theatrical language, politics of Europe, not only not receiving laws were called stars, but they were sometimes fallen from others, but giving laws to the world, and vin- ones. There was another class of sufferers natudicating the rights of mankind. (Cheers.) There rally and necessarily connected with the theatre, have been various times when the dramatic art without whom it was impossible to go on. The subsequently fell into disrepute. Its professors have been stigmatised, and laws have been passed against them, less dishonourable to them than to the states

sailors have a saying, every man cannot be a boatswain. If there must be persons to act Hamlet, there must also be people to act Laertes the King,

Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern, otherwise a drama room literally rung with applauses, which were cannot go on. If even Garrick himself were to rise continued for some minutes) the minstrel of our from the dead, he could not act Hamlet alone. country, who had conjured up, not the phantoms There must be generals, colonels, commanding-of- of departed ages, but realities, now stands revealed ficers, and subalterns; but what are the private sol- before the eyes and affections of his country. la diers to do? Many have mistaken their own talents, his presence it would ill become him, as it would and have been driven in early youth to try the stage, be displeasing to that distinguished person, to say, to which they are not competent. He would know if he were able, what every man must feel, who what to say to the poet and the artist. He would recollects the enjoyment he has had from the great say that it was foolish, and he would recommend efforts of his mind and genius. It has been left for to the poet to become a scribe, and the artist to him, by his writings, to give his country an imperpaint sign-posts-(loud laughter.)-But he could ishable name. He had done more for his country, not send the player adrift, for if he cannot play by illuminating its annals, by illustrating the deeds Hamlet, he must play Guildenstern. Where there of its warriors and statesmen, than any man that are many labourers wages must be low, and no ever existed, or was produced, within its territory. man in such a situation can decently support a wife He has opened up the peculiar beauties of this and family, and save something off his income for country to the eyes of foreigners. He has exhibited old age. What is this man to do in latter life? the deeds of those patriots and statesmen to whom Are you to cast him off like an old hinge, or a we owe the freedom we now enjoy. He would give piece of useless machinery, which has done its work? the health of sir Walter Scott, which was drunk To a person who has contributed to our amuse- with enthusiastic cheering.

ment, this would be unkind, ungrateful, and un- "Sir WALTER SCOTT certainly did not think christian. His wants are not of his own making, that, in coming here to-day, he would have the but arise from the natural sources of sickness and task of acknowledging, before three hundred genold age. It cannot be denied that there is one class tlemen, a secret which, considering that it was of sufferers to whom no imprudence can be ascrib-communicated to more than twenty people, was ed, except on first entering on the profession. Af- remarkably well kept. He was now before the bar ter putting his band to the dramatic plough, he of his country, and might be understood to be on cannot draw back, but must continue at it, and trial before lord Meadowbank as an offender; yet toil till death release him, or charity, by its milder he was sure that every impartial jury would bring assistance, steps in to render that want more tolera-in a verdict of Not Proven. He did not now think ble. He had little more to say, except that he sin- it necessary to enter into the reasons of his long cerely hoped that the collection to-day, from the silence. Perhaps he might have acted from canumber of respectable gentlemen present, would price. He had now to say, however, that the mcmeet the views entertained by the patrons. He rits of these works, if they had any, and their faults, hoped it would do so. They should not be dis- were entirely imputable to himself. (Long and heartened. Though they could not do a great deal, loud cheering.) He was afraid to think on what he they might do something. They had this consola- had done. Look on't again I dare not.' He had tion, that every thing they parted with from their thus far unbosomed himself, and he knew that it superfluity would do some good. They would sleep would be reported to the public. He meant, when the better themselves when they have been the he said that he was the author, that he was the tomeans of giving sleep to others. It was ungrateful tal and undivided author. With the exception of and unkind, that those who had sacrificed their quotations, there was not a single word that was youth to our amusement should not recive the re- not derived from himself, or suggested in the course ward due to them, but should be reduced to hard of his reading. The wand was now broken, and fare in their old age. We cannot think of poor the rod buried. You will allow me further to say, Falstaff going to bed without his cup of sack, or with Prospero, "Tis your breath that has filled my Macbeth fed on bones as marrowless as those of sails; and to crave one single toast in the capacity Banquo (loud cheers and laughter.) As he be- of the author of these novels; and he would dedilieved that they were all as fond of the dramatic cate a bumper to the health of one who has repreart as he was in his younger days, he would pro-sented some of those characters, of which he had pose that they should drink The Theatrical Fund,' endeavoured to give the skeleton, with a degree of with thee times three.

liveliness which rendered him grateful. He would "Mr. MACKAY rose on behalf of his brethren, propose the health of his friend Baillie Nicol Jarto return their thanks for the toast just drunk. vie-(loud applause, and he was sure, that when After ably advocating the cause of the Fund, he the author of Waverley and Rob Roy drinks to concluded by tendering to the meeting, in the name Nicol Jarvie, it would be received with that deof his brethren and sisters, their unfeigned thanks gree of applause to which that gentleman has alfor their liberal support, and begged to propose ways been accustomed, and that they would take the health of the Patrons of the Edinburgh Theat-care that, on the present occasion, it should be rical Fund. (Cheers.) PRODIGIOUS! (Long and vchement applause.) "Lord MEADOWBANK begged to propose a "Mr. MACKAY, who spoke with great humour health, which, in an assembly of Scotsmen, would be received, not with an ordinary feeling of delight, but with rapture and enthusiasm.-He knew that it would be painful to his feelings if he were to speak to him in the terms which his heart prompted; and that he had sheltered himself under his native modesty from the applause which he deserved. But it was gratifying at last to know that these clouds were now dispelled, and that the Great Unknown-the mighty magician-(here the

in the character of Baillie Jarvie.-My conscience! My worthy father the deacon could not have believed that his son could hae had sic a compliment paid to him by the Great Unknown.

"Sir WALTER SCOTT.-Not unknown now, Mr. Baillie.

"Mr. MACKAY.-He had been long indentified with the Baillie, and he was now vain of the cognomen which he had worn for eight years, and he questioned if any of his brethren in the council