by her, as their fathers did before them; and he who would
not drink a bumper to his toast, may he never drink whisky more!

Sir WALTER SCOTT here gave "Lord Meadowbank," who returned thanks.

Mr. H. G. BELL said that he should not have ventured to intrude himself
upon the attention of the assembly, did he not feel confident that the
toast he begged to have the honour to propose would make amends for the
very imperfect manner in which he might express his sentiments regarding
it. It had been said that, notwithstanding the mental supremacy of the
present age--notwithstanding that the page of our history was studded
with names destined also for the page of immortality--that the genius of
Shakespeare was extinct, and the fountain of his inspiration dried up.
It might be that these observations were unfortunately correct, or it
might be that we were bewildered with a name, not disappointed of the
reality; for though Shakespeare had brought a Hamlet, an Othello, and a
Macbeth, an Ariel, a Juliet, and a Rosalind, upon the stage, were there
not authors living who had brought as varied, as exquisitely painted,
and as undying a range of characters into our hearts? The shape of the
mere mould into which genius poured its golden treasures was surely
a matter of little moment, let it be called a Tragedy, a Comedy, or a
Waverley Novel. But even among the dramatic authors of the present day,
he was unwilling to allow that there was a great and palpable decline
from the glory of preceding ages, and his toast alone would bear him out
in denying the truth of the proposition. After eulogizing the names of
Baillie, Byron, Coleridge, Maturin, and others, he begged to have the
honour of proposing "The Health of James Sheridan Knowles."

Sir WALTER SCOTT. Gentlemen, I crave a bumper all over. The last toast
reminds me of a neglect of duty. Unaccustomed to a public duty of this
kind, errors in conducting the ceremonial of it may be excused, and
omissions pardoned. Perhaps I have made one or two omissions in the
course of the evening for which I trust you will grant me your pardon
and indulgence. One thing in particular I have omitted, and I would now
wish to make amends for it by a libation of reverence and respect to
the memory of SHAKESPEARE. He was a man of universal genius, and from a
period soon after his own era to the present day he has been universally
idolized. When I come to his honoured name, I am like the sick man who
hung up hi