(Hisses, which were again drowned in cheers.) | Surely, Sir, thus righteously to condemn whatever is inconsistent with purity and piety, while it cannot lessen one ray of his genius, is the best proof we can afford of our regard for his memory, and the best sacrifice we can offer to his departed spirit. But whatever some of his admirers here may say, yet of one thing I feel assured, that the poet himself, if he heard my words, would now agree with me-(cheers)-for if he is cognizant of what is done upon earth, such a judgment must be in accordance with his most solemn convictions and most earnest wishes. (Loud applause.)

Mr. J. P. TROTTER, advocate, proposed "Colonel Burns and other existing Relatives of the Poet." In doing so, he said-I cannot help remarking that it is a matter of much congratulation to this assembly that, at a time so far removed from that in which the poet lived, we are still privileged to honour him in the person of his son. Two sons of Burnsone of whom sits at this table-still live, to witness to-night one of the most remarkable tributes that since the world began has ever yet been paid to genius-to listen to the simultaneous lifting up of the voice of a whole nation to proclaim the glory of one man, and that man their father. It has been said, and I think with much truth, that when we hold intercourse even with the remote descendants of great men, we are carried back through the links of a long chain of associations, until we almost seem to hold intercourse with themselves; but it is our privilege to-night to hold intercourse not with one of the remote descendants of the immortal bard, but with his own son, with one whom he has often folded in his own living arms, often gazed on with his own loving eyes. (Applause.) In proposing the health of Colonel Burns, it is not my purpose to dilate on his personal merits, though his honourable career throughout life affords ample materials for my doing so; but this at least I must be permitted to say, that much of that fine geniality of disposition, that kindly warmth of heart, that overflowing sympathy with all that concerns the interests of humanity, which so strongly characterised the father, have been reproduced in the son. (Applause.) And if there be one feeling which more than any other throughout life has marked the character of Colonel Burns it is his love for the virtues and his admiration for the genius of his glorious sire. To speak of his father's memory, to sing his father's songs, to listen to his father's praises, I know to be the greatest delight of his heart. It has been my privilege to visit our honoured guest and his no less honoured brother, at their delightful residence in Cheltenham,—an abode over whose

portal might with much propriety be written the words "Let brotherly love continue”—and I have often thought how it would have gladdened the heart of their father if he had been permitted to see his sons, after lives honourably passed in the pursuit of an honourable profession, spending the evening of their days in the enjoyment of each other's society, living under the same roof, engaged in the same pursuits, and devoted to each other with an affection so warm as only to be transcended by that still stronger love which they mutually bear to the great name of their father. (Cheers.) Of the other existing relatives of the Poet I shall only say that they all bear about them that impress of worth and of talent with which the poet himself was so strongly stamped, and which marks and verifies their distinguished lineage. To use a familiar Scottish phrase, they are all come of a good kind; and there is much meaning in that phrase; there is much influence in what we commonly call blood; and that which characterises the blood of Burns is strong intellectual vigour and high moral integrity, or as he himself so well expresses it, "The pith o' sense and pride o' worth." This is the characteristic of the whole race. It was this that shone out so pre-eminently in that great pattern of a Scottish peasant, that bright exemplar of a high-minded Christian man-William Burns, the poet's father. It was this that marked before an admiring world the bright career of a man whose death in India some years ago a whole nation united to deplore, as a whole nation now unites to honour his illustrious relative—I mean, Sir Alexander Burns, the poet's cousin; and it is this which will continue to characterise all who have the honour to spring from the same illustrious root. (Cheers.)

Drunk with all the honours.

The COLONEL was again received with great applause. He said-I have to thank my friend. Trotter very heartily for the way in which he has introduced the toast, and you for the hearty manner in which you have responded to the toast of "The Sons and Relatives of the Bard." I may as well here enumerate them, as far as my knowledge extends. There are my brother William Nichol and myself; my two daughters, Mrs. Hutchinson, with her two children, in Australia, and Annie Burns, now in Edinburgh; and my late brother Robert's daughter, Mrs. Everett, with her daughter, in Belfast. These are the direct descendants. My uncle Gilbert left a large family, of whom survives one daughter (Ann) and three sons (William, Thomas, and Gilbert). The three brothers have many olive branches. For the survivors of my late dear aunt, Mrs. Begg, I

Mr. ROBERT BURNS BEGG, nephew of the poet, also responded to the toast, and said-I did not expect to be called upon to speak just now. I am unaccustomed to public speaking, and I cannot let my voice reach this immense assembly. All I can say is, that I have met with many kindnesses in the world, and I believe they are all owing to my connection with Burns. I owe the honour of being here as a guest to-night solely to that, and I believe to an acquaintance many years ago with the late Sheriff' Steele. I may, however, be allowed to say that I should like very much to live another hundred years to see such a sight as this. (Applause.) I would like to see the same beauty assembled together, and the same learned men assembled here. I thank you kindly. (Cheers.) The band then played "Duncan Gray," and Mr. Robson sang "Behind yon hills."

Mr. WILLIAM BURNS said,─The toast which I have the honour to propose-"The Centenary Celebrations all over the world" is one that, standing by itself, and in the hands of an accomplished speaker, might well form a theme second only to the immortal memory itself. Under present circumstances, however, the duty imposed upon me is of a humble description, namely, to say a few words to you as to the origin and progress, and the present position of this movement for a general celebration of the centenary of the birth-day of our great national poet, and to call upon you to recognise, in the warmest possible manner, kindred meetings wherever these may be held, either at home or abroad. When, not long ago, a few | humble admirers of the poet and lovers of the man, met together for the purpose of concerting a festival celebration in Glasgow on the occasion of the centenary of Burns, I must confess they had no conception of the result that was to follow from their labours. They were ignorant at that time of the deep fountain that was to be opened in the heart of the public. Their idea on the subject was that a great meeting might be held in Glasgow, as a convenient locality, as had been done some years before on the banks of the Doon, towards which the worshippers of the poet-men eminent in literature both in Scotland, Ireland, and elsewhere, might congregate. Under that impression, they proposed to give the celebration in the City Hall, Glasgow, the designation of national, a designation which, it may be observed, it still retains. Probably that designation is not now absolutely correct. Still, it may not be thought altogether inappropriate, considering the magnitude of the meeting itself, and keeping in view that, whether national or not,

Strange as it may appear now, when we see the dimensions to which this movement has attained, it was stated that the people of Edinburgh would look on the movement with a certain degree of disfavour. (Signs of impatience.) But these speculations were dissolved by a process over which no individuals or set of individuals had any control, because a chord had been struck in the heart of the people which very soon vibrated, not only throughout Scotland, but through England and Ireland, and far away over the ocean, wherever the name or songs of Burns were known. (Renewed interruption.) Very soon, in place of the people of Edinburgh meeting the movement with opposition, they entered into it with the utmost enthusiasm. (Continued signs of impatience.) Their example was followed by every town and village in the country. (Interruption and hisses.) I may mention one circumstance which has been made known to me since I entered the hall, and it is that the idea of a centenary celebration was first ventilated and brought under notice on the very spot where the poet himself was born. (Applause, and more signs of impatience.) I shall at once propose the toast, which I am glad to see you are all so anxious to drink. (Drunk with enthusiasm.)

Mr. BUCHANAN, M.P., then said-The toast which I have to propose is "Our guests," and I am sure those gentlemen who have honoured us with their presence to-night will not think that I am behaving in the least degree unhandsomely or disrespectfully to them, if I do not make any remarks in proposing the toast. I am warned of the lateness of the hour, and that it will be necessary to get on as quickly as possible; and, when it is considered that most of those gentlemen whose names I am about to mention, have already addressed you, it will be seen that it would be quite unnecessary for me to make any remarks. I will only say with what pleasure I see present here to-night the venerable Sir David Brewster. (Loud cheers.) His fame as a man of science stands so high, not only in Scotland, but throughout Europe, that I need say no more, but only beg that you will join with me in drinking the health of Sir David Brewster, Judge Haliburton, Mr. Monckton Milnes, Mr. Blanchard Jerrold, Mr. James Lowe, the venerable Principal of the University, Dr. Macleod, and Mr. Peter Cunningham.

The toast was drunk amid loud applause. Song "The Rigs o' Barley"-Mr. Stembridge Ray.

Bailie HOULDSWORTH said the toast he had to propose was, "The Festival Committee." He did not think it necessary at that late hour to say much on the subject. They had worked

so it is, whatever is to be done. Whether our military friends are fighting a battle, or our clerical ones preaching a sermon; whether our parliamentary friends are meeting their constituents, or you are holding a Burns festival, one man is sure to be present, and that is "the lurnd mon for the Teems." He is an institution among you. He is the chiel among you taking notes-and faith he prents 'em. (Laughter.) Sometimes he is a very unwelcome guest, on account of his habit of speaking the truth, and sometimes, as to-night, he is a very welcome guest. With regard to the toast which they had drunk at that late hour of the evening, and after the eloquent speeches which had been delivered, he should, in offering his grateful thanks on behalf of himself and his brethren of the press, confine himself to one observation. It was impossible to pronounce absolutely as to what might or might not have been the case under a state of circumstances which had never existed; but, if the great man whose memory they were met to celebrate had lived in a time when a press flourished in any way analogous to that which now existed, it might not be too much to say that his lot in life would have been far different. (Cheers.) The press, and above all, the literary press, not only creates a taste for reading, but points out what is best to be read. (Applause.) To Scotland was undoubtedly due the credit of having created the modern book-trade—(hear, hear)—but England may justly claim the invention of the modern press. (Cheers.) Busy men have no time to judge for themselves, and are compelled to take their opinions from the critics; and yet, harshly as those critics are ofttimes spoken of, it is not to be denied that they have been instrumental in raising the social position of the writer. (Hear, hear, and cheers.) Where one copy of a book was sold fifty years ago, a hundred are now disposed of. Had journalism been in Burns' time as it is now, it would not have been to the "noblemen and gentlemen" of the Caledonian Hunt that he would have had to look for patronage. (Loud cheers.) Borne upon the wings of the press, his name would have gone forth to wherever the English language was known (renewed cheering)—and it might have been that, with a better appreciation of his genius, his grateful country would have found some occupation for him more congenial than that of an exciseman. (Vehement cheering.) With regard to the toast to which he responded, it needed neither ghost from the grave, nor journalist from London, to vindicate the honour of the British press. The Scotch, and above all, the Glasgow section of this press, was second to none in the ability and intelli

it handled-(cheers)—and he should have been better pleased had the duty which he was performing devolved upon one of his brethren in that city. It had, however, pleased the Committee to lay it upon him, and in all sincerity of spirit he thanked the company for the honour which they had paid to the profession to which he had the honour to belong. (Applause.)

Mr. SAMUEL LOVER then said-At a very short notice I am called upon to propose a toast; but it is one that no man could possibly be asked to propose without feeling that a great compliment had been paid and a great privilege granted to him. That toast is "The Lasses." (Cheers.) Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems a sort of practical pun that the lasses should be proposed by a Lover. (Laughter.) But I hope the ladies that are here will believe that an Irish lover is never deficient in paying his homage to what has well been called the most beautiful half of the human race. (Cheers.) Ladies, in your smile exists the poet's inspiration, and in your smile exists the poet's reward. There never was a poet yet that didn't worship woman-(hear, hear)—and pre-eminently the bard whose name we have met this day to honour, worshipped "the lasses oh!" (Loud applause.) But the greatest poet in the world, whatever might be his power-and the power of making love was very great in Robert Burns; but no man can make love by himself. He must have a lady to help him—(laughter)—and, I must say, that from all my experience, very good helps they are. (Renewed laughter.) Shakspeare has comprised under one head the lunatic, the lover, and the poet; and when I first became a lover, I felt convinced that Shakspeare was right in saying that a lover was a lunatic-(laughter)-for I was perfectly mad. (Much laughter.) But that took place a long time ago-about half a century-but I began very young. (Roars of laughter.) And Mr. Chairman, ladies, and gentlemen-for I wish to call as many witnesses as I can to this fact-I found madness so delightful that I think I never have been right in my senses since (great laughter)-but if ever I have had a lucid interval, it has only been to sigh for Bedlam again, and call upon Cupid for my keeper. (Cheers.) A very interesting document has been placed in my hand to read to you to-night. It is an additional verse to "Green grow the rashes, O," composed by Robert Burns, the son of the great Robert Burns. The lines were presented by Mr. Alexander Maclagan, author of Poems and Songs,' to be repeated. In reading it I shall give as much attention as I can to your Scottish dialect, and if I make mistakes pray forgive a

stranger. Mr. Lover then read the following verse, which was received with applause; the talented reader's manner in setting off the Scotch words creating considerable amuse

ment:

"Frae man's ain side God made his wark
That a' the lave surpasses, O;
The man but lo'es his ain heart's bluid
Wha dearly lo'es the lasses, O!”

Mr. Lover concluded by saying-After this, of course, it would be trespassing on you to say one word more than to give the toast, and I hope that my fair hearers will believe me when .I say that never had they a truer, or a warmer, or a more faithful lover than the one that addresses them. (Loud cheers.)

Mr. ROBERT BURNS BEGG said-The toast which I am to propose to you, is the health of our distinguished Chairman, Sir Archibald Alison. (Cheers.) You all know the Chairman well. As a historian his fame resounds throughout all Europe. He writes a history of heroes, and I understand he is the father of heroes. (Loud applause.) And though last, not least, he has been the excellent Chairman of this splendid meeting. "Health and happiness to Sir Archibald Alison." (Cheers.)

The band played "Scots wha hae.”

The CHAIRMAN, in reply, said-At this late hour of the night the first merit of speaking will be brevity. I shall therefore only say that I deeply feel the more than kindness with which you have received the feeble efforts I have made to-night to do honour to our immortal bard; and the recollection of this night will never be erased from my mind. (Cheers.)

festival got up under the auspices of the Ayrshire young men resident in Glasgow-who are "jamais arriere," (never behind,) in any loyal or patriotic demonstration-in the Merchants' Hall, which was gaily decorated with flags and wreathes of evergreens, and presented to the eye a very animated aspect. The honest men (as the immortal bard hath called them) have, in a way worthy of all praise, celebrated the Burns festival. The company present numbered nearly 600, and were, during their assembling, welcomed with strains of music from the band of Mr. M'Cann.

The chair was ably occupied by John M'Gavin, Esq.; and amongst the gentlemen on the platform were Thomas Brown, Esq.; George Troup, Esq. (of the Daily Bulletin); Thomas Bishop, Esq. (great-grandson of the poet); Messrs. Robert Young, Wm. Roxburgh, Jas. Forrester, Wm. Lockhart, Thornhill, John M'Gregor, David M'Lure, James Young, John Craig, Wm. Walker, jun., John Walker, Thomas Arnot, Wm. Gilchrist, John M'Turk, William Smith, John R. Wylie, J. R. Pickering, Gavin Laurie, James Middleton, David Clure, jun., &c. &c.

Divine blessing having been implored by Mr. Gilchrist, the company partook of an excellent tea, and abundance of good creature comforts. Thanks having been returned by singing two verses of Burns' poetry appropriate for the occasion,

gramme.

The proceedings, which commenced a few minutes past five o'clock, did not terminate till about halfpast eleven, by which time many persons had left the hall, and many of those who remained had become rather confused in their jollity.

[We may mention that in the course of the evening there was handed round for inspection, the veritable silver-mounted snuff box which belonged to the bard when he was in the Excise, the somewhat worn inscription being "Robert Burns, of the Excise." This interesting relic is now the property of Mr. Reid, of Port-Glasgow.]

THE MERCHANTS' HALL.

Tuesday evening-bringing the echoed cry, “Ubique, et ab omnibus," of the great celebration of the birth of Scotland's noblest and immortal bard-was characterised by a grand

perform the requisite duties of a chairman; but to-night, met as we are to celebrate the centenary of the birth of Scotland's greatest poet, I feel that certain powers are required-powers to which I lay little claim. For the last halfcentury and more, some of the most eloquent tongues have discoursed of Burns, and some of the ablest writers have criticised his genius and his life; and for me, therefore, to attempt anything more than what may simply suggest itself to all of you, would be out of place. The first thought which occurs to me in connection with the present meeting is this-the impartiality with which the inheritance of genius falls to different classes of men. Not to the high and noble alone is the award, but out of all classes the sons of genius have been elected. The structure of the world's greatness is the combined contributions of every class, an arrange