onour to the memory of our greatest poet. But,
gentlemen, I will not at this late hour of the day, and in a temple, as
it were, dedicated to the Muses--I will not occupy your time by
returning thanks for drinking the health of one who has no merit. But,
before we part, there is a toast which claims our especial
consideration--"the health of Professor Wilson." Had it not been for the
modesty of the Professor, it ought to have been proposed at a much
earlier part of the evening. On such an occasion as this, when we have
met from all parts of Scotland, to do honour to the memory of the
greatest genius Scotland ever knew, it surely is not only proper, but
our bounden duty, to drink the health of the greatest genius which
Scotland possesses now. The memories of others have been drunk to-night,
and have been received with that deep feeling which Scotchmen feel
towards the memory of genius, but the toast which I am now proposing is
one which has this additional merit, that the subject of it is alive and
hearty, and able to continue, as you have heard to-day, in that career
which has hitherto so much delighted his countrymen. In the presence of
Professor Wilson I cannot dilate, as I could wish to do, on the
character of that gentleman. I will only ask you to drink with me his
health in a way that will show that you can pay honour to genius alive,
as you can do honour to departed worth.

Professor WILSON rose and simply bowed his acknowledgments.

The Earl of EGLINTON then rose and said--Ladies and Gentlemen,

"Nae man can tether time nor tide;
The hour approaches--Tam maun ride."

This brought the proceedings to a close.

We have thought it due--not less to the character of the meeting than to
the sincere and fervid eloquence of the speakers--to place upon our
pages an authentic record of the whole proceedings of the day. This
"great national gathering," as it was aptly denominated, must be of
enduring and not ephemeral interest, and will be remembered, and spoken
of, and quoted, long after events of greater apparent importance have
passed away into oblivion. The outpourings of a nation's heart are
immortal. The tributes that were paid, in the ages long since gone by,
to the poets of Greece and of Italy, have outlived the most enduring
monuments of marble, and we dare not hesitate now to recognise a triumph
which will be as everlasting as theirs.

We feel that little comment is necessary upon the various addresses