Lord MEADOWBANK said that, by desire of his Hon. Friend in the
chair, and of his Noble Friend at his right hand, he begged leave
to return thanks for the honour which had been conferred on the
Patrons of this excellent institution.  He could answer for
himself--he could answer for them all--that they were deeply
impressed with the meritorious objects which it has in view, and
of their anxious wish to promote its interests.  For himself, he
hoped he might be permitted to say that he was rather surprised
at finding his own name as one of the Patrons, associated with so
many individuals of high rank and powerful influence.  But it was
an excuse for those who had placed him in a situation so
honourable and so distinguished, that when this charity was
instituted he happened to hold a high and responsible station
under the Crown, when he might have been of use in assisting and
promoting its objects.  His Lordship much feared that he could
have little expectation, situated as he now was, of doing either;
but he could confidently assert that few things would give him
greater gratification than being able to contribute to its
prosperity and support.  And indeed, when one recollects the
pleasure which at all periods of life he has received from the
exhibitions of the stage, and the exertions of the meritorious
individuals for whose aid this Fund has been established, he must
be divested both of gratitude and feeling who would not give his
best endeavours to promote its welfare.  And now, that he might
in some measure repay the gratification which had been afforded
himself, he would beg leave to propose a toast, the health of one
of the Patrons, a great and distinguished individual, whose name
must always stand by itself, and which, in an assembly such as
this, or in any other assembly of Scotsmen, can never be
received, not, he would say, with ordinary feelings of pleasure
or of delight, but with those of rapture and enthusiasm.  In
doing so he felt that he stood in a somewhat new situation.
Whoever had been called upon to propose the health of his Hon.
Friend to whom he alluded, some time ago, would have found
himself enabled, from the mystery in which certain matters were
involved, to gratify himself and his auditors by allusions which
found a responding chord in their own feelings, and to deal in
the language, the sincere language, of panegyric, without
intruding on the modesty of the great individual to whom he
referred.  But it was no longer possible, consistently with the
respect to one's auditors, to use upon this subject terms either
of mystification or of obscure or indirect allusion.  The clouds
have been dispelled; the DARKNESS VISIBLE has been cleared away;
and the Great Unknown--the minstrel of our native land--the
mighty magician who has rolled back the current of time, and
conjured up before our living senses the men and the manners of
days which have long passed away--stands revealed to the hearts
and the eyes of his affectionate and admiring countrymen.  If he
himself were capable of imagining all that belonged to this
mighty subject--were he even able to give utterance to all that,
as a friend, as a man, and as a Scotsman, he must feel regarding
it--yet knowing, as he well did, that this illustrious individual
was not more distinguished for his towering talents than for
those feelings which rendered such allusions ungrateful to
himself, however sparingly introduced, he would, on that account,
still refrain from doing that which would otherwise be no less
pleasing to him than to his audience.  But this his Lordship,
hoped he would be allowed to say (his auditors would not pardon
him were he to say less), we owe to him, as a people, a large and
heavy debt of gratitude.  He it is who has opened to foreigners
the grand and characteristic beauties of our country.  It is to
him that we owe that our gallant ancestors and the struggles of
our illustrious patriots--who fought and bled in order to obtain
and secure that independence and that liberty we now enjoy--have
obtained a fame no longer confined to the boundaries of a remote
and comparatively obscure nation, and who has called down upon
their struggles for glory and freedom the admiration of foreign
countries.  He it is who has conferred a new reputation on our
national character, and bestowed on Scotland an imperishable
name, were it only by her having given birth to himself.  (Loud
and rapturous applause.)

Sir WALTER SCOTT certainly did not think that, in coming here to-
day, he would have the task of acknowledging, before three
hundred gentlemen, a secret which, considering that it was
communicated to more than twenty people, had been remarkably well
kept.  He was now before the bar of his country, and might be
understood to be on trial before Lord Meadowbank as an offender;
yet he was sure that every impartial jury would bring in a
verdict of Not Proven.  He did not now think it necessary to
enter into the reasons of his long silence.  Perhaps caprice
might have a consider able share in it.  He had now to say,
however, that the merits of these works, if they had any, and
their faults, were entirely imputable to himself.  (Long and loud
cheering.)   He was afraid to think on what he had done.  "Look
on't again I dare not."  He had thus far unbosomed himself and he
knew that it would be reported to the public.  He meant, then,
seriously to state, that when he said he was the author, he was
the total and undivided author.  With the exception of
quotations, there was not a single word that was not derived from
himself, or suggested in the course of his reading.  The wand was
now broken, and the book buried.  You will allow me further to
say, with Prospero, it is your breath that has filled my sails,
and to crave one single toast in the capacity of the author of
these novels; and he would dedicate a bumper to the health of one
who has represented some of those characters, of which he had
endeavoured to give the skeleton, with a degree of liveliness
which rendered him grateful.  He would propose "The Health of
his friend Bailie Nicol Jarvie"--(loud applause)--and he was sure
that when the author of Waverley and Rob Roy drinks to Nicol
Jarvie, it would be received with that degree of applause to
which that gentleman has always been accustomed, and that they
would take care that on the present occasion it should be
PRODIGIOUS!  (Long and vehement applause.)

Mr. MACKAY, who here spoke with great humour in the character of
Bailie 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.--The Small Known now, Mr. Bailie.

Mr. MACKAY.--He had been long identified with the Bailie, and he
was vain of the cognomen which he had now worn for eight years;
and he questioned if any of his brethren in the Council had given
such universal satisfaction.  (Loud laughter and applause.)
Before he sat down, he begged to propose "The Lord Provost and
the City of Edinburgh."

Sir WALTER SCOTT apologized for the absence of the Lord Provost,
who had gone to London on public business.

Tune--"Within a mile of Edinburgh town."

Sir WALTER SCOTT gave "The Duke of Wellington and the army."

Glee--"How merrily we live."

Lord Melville and the Navy, that fought till they left nobody to
fight with, like an arch sportsman who clears all and goes after
the game."

Mr. PAT. ROBERTSON.--They had heard this evening a toast, which
had been received with intense delight, which will be published
in every newspaper, and will be hailed with joy by all Europe.
He had one toast assigned him which he had great pleasure in
giving.  He was sure that the stage had in all ages a great
effect on the morals and manners of the people.  It was very
desirable that the stage should be well regulated; and there was
no criterion by which its regulation could be better determined
than by the moral character and personal respectability of the
performers.  He was not one of those stern moralists who objected
to the theatre.  The most fastidious moralist could not possibly
apprehend any injury from the stage of Edinburgh, as it was
presently managed, and so long as it was adorned by that
illustrious individual, Mrs. Henry Siddons, whose public
exhibitions were not more remarkable for feminine grace and
delicacy than was her private character for every virtue which
could be admired in domestic life.  He would conclude with
reciting a few words from Shakespeare, in a spirit not of
contradiction to those stern moralists who disliked the theatre,
but of meekness:  "Good, my lord, will you see the players well
bestowed?  Do you hear, let them be well used, for they are the
abstract and brief chronicles of the time."  He then gave "Mrs.
Henry Siddons, and success to the Theatre Royal of Edinburgh."

Mr. MURRAY.--Gentlemen, I rise to return thanks for the honour
you have done Mrs. Siddons, in doing which I am somewhat
difficulted, from the extreme delicacy which attends a brother's
expatiating upon a sister's claims to honours publicly paid--
(hear, hear)--yet, gentlemen, your kindness emboldens me to say
that, were I to give utterance to all a brother's feelings, I
should not exaggerate those claims.  (Loud applause.) I
therefore, gentlemen, thank you most cordially for the honour you
have done her, and shall now request permission to make an
observation on the establishment of the Edinburgh Theatrical
Fund.  Mr. Mackay has done Mrs. Henry Siddons and myself the
honour to ascribe the establishment to us.  But no, gentlemen, it
owes its origin to a higher source--the publication of the novel
of Rob Roy--the unprecedented success of the opera adapted from
that popular production.  (Hear, hear.) It was that success which
relieved the Edinburgh Theatre from its difficulties, and enabled
Mrs. Siddons to carry into effect the establishment of a fund she
had long desired, but was prevented from effecting from the
unsettled state of her theatrical concerns.  I therefore hope
that in future years, when the aged and infirm actor derives
relief from this fund, he will, in the language of the gallant
Highlander, "Cast his eye to good old Scotland, and not forget
Rob Roy."  (Loud applause.)

Sir WALTER SCOTT here stated that Mrs. Siddons wanted the means
but not the will of beginning the Theatrical Fund.  He here
alluded to the great merits of Mr. Murray's management, and to
his merits as an actor, which were of the first order, and of
which every person who attends the Theatre must be sensible; and
after alluding to the embarrassments with which the Theatre had
been at one period threatened, he concluded by giving "The Health
of Mr. Murray," which was drunk with three times three.

Mr. MURRAY.--Gentlemen, I wish I could believe that in any degree
I merited the compliments with which it has pleased Sir Walter
Scott to preface the proposal of my health, or the very
flattering manner in which you have done me the honour to receive
it.  The approbation of such an assembly is most gratifying to
me, and might encourage feelings of vanity, were not such
feelings crushed by my conviction that no man holding the
situation I have so long held in Edinburgh could have failed,
placed in the peculiar circumstances in which I have been placed.
Gentlemen, I shall not insult your good taste by eulogiums upon
your judgment or kindly feeling, though to the first I owe any
improvement I may have made as an actor, and certainly my success
as a manager to the second.  (Applause.)  When, upon the death of
my dear brother, the late Mr. Siddons, it was proposed that I
should undertake the management of the Edinburgh Theatre, I
confess I drew back, doubting my capability to free it from the
load of debt and difficulty with which it was surrounded.  In
this state of anxiety, I solicited the advice of one who had ever
honoured me with his kindest regard, and whose name no member of
my profession can pronounce without feelings of the deepest
respect and gratitude.  I allude to the late Mr. John Kemble.
(Great applause.)  To him I applied, and with the repetition of
his advice I shall cease to trespass upon your time--(hear, hear)
--"My dear William, fear not.  Integrity and assiduity must prove
an overmatch for all difficulty; and though I approve your not
indulging a vain confidence in your own ability, and viewing with
respectful apprehension the judgment of the audience you have to
act before, yet be assured that judgment will ever be tempered by
the feeling that you are acting for the widow and the
fatherless."  (Loud applause.)  Gentlemen, those words have never
passed from my mind; and I feel convinced that you have pardoned
my many errors, from the feeling that I was striving for the
widow and the fatherless.  (Long and enthusiastic applause
followed Mr. Murray's address.)

Sir WALTER SCOTT gave "The Health of the Stewards."

Mr. VANDENHOFF.---Mr. President and Gentlemen, the honour
conferred upon the Stewards, in the very flattering compliment
you have just paid us, calls forth our warmest acknowledgments.
In tendering you our thanks for the approbation you have been
pleased to express of our humble exertions, I would beg leave to
advert to the cause in which we have been engaged.  Yet,
surrounded as I am by the genius--the eloquence--of this
enlightened city, I cannot but feel the presumption which
ventures to address you on so interesting a subject.  Accustomed
to speak in the language of others, I feel quite at a loss for
terms wherein to clothe the sentiments excited by the present
occasion.  (Applause.)  The nature of the institution which has
sought your fostering patronage, and the objects which it
contemplates, have been fully explained to you.  But, gentlemen,
the relief which it proposes is not a gratuitous relief, but to
be purchased by the individual contribution of its members
towards the general good.  This Fund lends no encouragement to
idleness or improvidence, but it offers an opportunity to
prudence in vigour and youth to make provision against the
evening of life and its attendant infirmity.  A period is fixed
at which we admit the plea of age as an exemption from
professional labour.  It is painful to behold the veteran on the
stage (compelled by necessity) contending against physical decay,
mocking the joyousness of mirth with the feebleness of age, when
the energies decline, when the memory fails!  and "the big, manly
voice, turning again towards childish treble, pipes and whistles
in the sound."  We would remove him from the mimic scene, where
fiction constitutes the charm; we would not view old age
caricaturing itself.  (Applause.)  But as our means may be found,
in time of need, inadequate to the fulfilment of our wishes--
fearful of raising expectations which we may be unable to
gratify--desirous not "to keep the word of promise to the ear,
and break it to the hope"--we have presumed to court the
assistance of the friends of the drama to strengthen our infant
institution.  Our appeal has been successful beyond our most
sanguine expectations.  The distinguished patronage conferred on
us by your presence on this occasion, and the substantial support
which your benevolence has so liberally afforded to our
institution, must impress every member of the Fund with the most
grateful sentiments--sentiments which no language can express, no
time obliterate.  (Applause.)  I will not trespass longer on your
attention.  I would the task of acknowledging our obligation had
fallen into abler hands.  (Hear, hear.)  In the name of the
Stewards, I most respectfully and cordially thank you for the
honour you have done us, which greatly overpays our poor
endeavours.  (Applause.)

[This speech, though rather inadequately reported, was one of the
best delivered on this occasion.  That it was creditable to Mr.
Vandenhoff's taste and feelings, the preceding sketch will show;
but how much it was so, it does not show.]

Mr. J. CAY gave "Professor Wilson and the University of
Edinburgh, of which he was one of the brightest ornaments"

Lord MEADOWBANK, after a suitable eulogium, gave "The Earl of
Fife," which was drunk with three times three.

Earl FIFE expressed his high gratification at the honour
conferred on him.  He intimated his approbation of the
institution, and his readiness to promote its success by every
means in his power.  He concluded with giving "The Health of the
Company of Edinburgh."

Mr. JONES, on rising to return thanks, being received with
considerable applause, said he was truly grateful for the kind
encouragement he had experienced, but the novelty of the
situation in which he now was renewed all the feelings he
experienced when he first saw himself announced in the bills as a
young gentleman, being his first appearance on any stage.
(Laughter and applause.) Although in the presence of those whose
indulgence had, in another sphere, so often shielded him from the
penalties of inability, he was unable to execute the task which
had so unexpectedly devolved upon him in behalf of his brethren
and himself.  He therefore begged the company to imagine all that
grateful hearts could prompt the most eloquent to utter, and that
would be a copy of their feelings.  (Applause.)  He begged to
trespass another moment on their attention, for the purpose of
expressing the thanks of the members of the Fund to the Gentlemen
of the Edinburgh Professional Society of Musicians, who, finding
that this meeting was appointed to take place on the same evening
with their concert, had, in the handsomest manner, agreed to
postpone it.  Although it was his duty thus to preface the toast
he had to propose, he was certain the meeting required no further
inducement than the recollection of the pleasure the exertions of
those gentlemen had often afforded them within those walls, to
join heartily in drinking "Health and Prosperity to the Edinburgh
Professional Society of Musicians."  (Applause.)

Mr. PAT. ROBERTSON Proposed "The Health of Mr. Jeffrey," whose
absence was owing to indisposition.  The public was well aware
that he was the most distinguished advocate at the bar.  He was
likewise distinguished for the kindness, frankness, and cordial
manner in which he communicated with the junior members of the
profession, to the esteem of whom his splendid talents would
always entitle him.

Mr. J. MACONOCHIE gave "The Health of Mrs. Siddons, senior, the
most distinguished ornament of the stage."

Sir W. SCOTT said that if anything could reconcile him to old
age, it was the reflection that he had seen the rising as well as
the setting sun of Mrs. Siddons.  He remembered well their
breakfasting near to the Theatre--waiting the whole day--the
crushing at the doors at six o'clock--and their going in and
counting their fingers till seven o'clock.  But the very first
step--the very first word which she uttered--was sufficient to
overpay him for all his labours.  The house was literally
electrified; and it was only from witnessing the effects of her
genius that he could guess to what a pitch theatrical excellence
could be carried.  Those young gentlemen who have only seen the
setting sun of this distinguished performer, beautiful and serene
as that was, must give us old fellows, who have seen its rise and
its meridian, leave to hold our heads a little higher.

Mr. DUNDAS gave "The Memory of Home, the author of Douglas."

Mr. MACKAY here announced that the subscriptions for the night
amounted to L280, and he expressed gratitude for this substantial
proof of their kindness.  [We are happy to state that
subscriptions have since flowed in very liberally.]

Mr. MACKAY here entertained the company with a pathetic song.

Sir WALTER SCOTT apologized for having so long forgotten their
native land.  He would now give "Scotland, the land of Cakes."
He would give every river, every loch, every hill, from Tweed to
Johnnie Groat's house--every lass in her cottage and countess in
her castle--and may her sons stand 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 his crutches at the shrine, and was obliged to
confess that he did not walk better than before.  It is indeed
difficult, gentlemen, to compare him to any other individual.
The only one to whom I call at all compare him is the wonderful
Arabian dervise, who dived into the body of each, and in this way
became familiar with the thoughts and secrets of their hearts.
He was a man of obscure origin, and, as a player, limited in his
acquirements; but he was born evidently with a universal genius.
His eyes glanced at all the varied aspects of life, and his fancy
portrayed with equal talents the king on the throne and the clown
who crackles his chestnuts at a Christmas fire.  Whatever note he
takes, he strikes it just and true, and awakens a corresponding
chord in our own bosoms, Gentlemen, I propose "The Memory of
William Shakespeare."

Glee--"Lightly tread, 'tis hallowed ground."

After the glee, Sir WALTER rose and begged to propose as a toast
the health of a lady, whose living merit is not a little
honourable to Scotland.  The toast (said he) is also flattering
to the national vanity of a Scotchman, as the lady whom I intend
to propose is a native of this country.  From the public her
works have met with the most favourable reception.  One piece of
hers, in particular, was often acted here of late years, and gave
pleasure of no mean kind to many brilliant and fashionable
audiences.  In her private character she (he begged leave to say)
is as remarkable as in a public sense she is for her genius.  In
short, he would in one word name--"Joanna Baillie."

This health being drunk, Mr. THORNE was called on for a song, and
sung, with great taste and feeling, "The Anchor's Weighed."

W. MENZIES, Esq., Advocate, rose to propose the health of a
gentleman for many years connected at intervals with the dramatic
art in Scotland.  Whether we look at the range of characters he
performs, or at the capacity which he evinces in executing those
which he undertakes, he is equally to he admired.  In all his
parts he is unrivalled.  The individual to whom he alluded is
(said he) well known to the gentlemen present, in the characters
of Malvolio, Lord Ogleby, and the Green Man; and in addition to
his other qualities, he merits, for his perfection in these
characters, the grateful sense of this meeting.  He would wish,
in the first place, to drink his health as an actor.  But he was
not less estimable in domestic life, and as a private gentleman;
and when he announced him as one whom the chairman had honoured
with his friendship, he was sure that all present would cordially
join him in drinking "The Health of Mr. Terry."

Mr. WILLIAM ALLAN, banker, said that he did not rise with the
intention of making a speech.  He merely wished to contribute in
a few words to the mirth of the evening--an evening which
certainly had not passed off without some blunders.  It had been
understood--at least he had learnt or supposed from the
expressions of Mr. Pritchard--that it would be sufficient to put
a paper, with the name of the contributor, into the box, and that
the gentleman thus contributing would be called on for the money
next morning.  He, for his part, had committed a blunder but it
might serve as a caution to those who may be present at the
dinner of next year.  He had merely put in his name, written on a
slip of paper, without the money.  But he would recommend that,
as some of the gentlemen might be in the same situation, the box
should be again sent round, and he was confident that they, as
well as he, would redeem their error.

Sir WALTER SCOTT said that the meeting was somewhat in the
situation of Mrs. Anne Page, who had L300 and possibilities.  We
have already got, said he, L280, but I should like, I confess, to
have the L300.  He would gratify himself by proposing the health
of an honourable person, the Lord Chief Baron, whom England has
sent to us, and connecting with it that of his "yokefellow on the
bench," as Shakespeare says, Mr. Baron Clerk--The Court of
Exchequer.

Mr. Baron CLERK regretted the absence of his learned brother.
None, he was sure, could be more generous in his nature, or more
ready to help a Scottish purpose.

Sir WALTER SCOTT,--There is one who ought to be remembered on
this occasion.  He is, indeed, well entitled to our grateful
recollection--one, in short, to whom the drama in this city owes
much.  He succeeded, not without trouble, and perhaps at some
considerable sacrifice, in establishing a theatre.  The younger
part of the company may not recollect the theatre to which I
allude, but there are some who with me may remember by name a
place called Carrubber's Close.  There Allan Ramsay established
his little theatre.  His own pastoral was not fit for the stage,
but it has its admirers in those who love the Doric language in
which it is written; and it is not without merits of a very
peculiar kind.  But laying aside all considerations of his
literary merit, Allan was a good, jovial, honest fellow, who
could crack a bottle with the best.  "The Memory of Allan
Ramsay."

Mr. MURRAY, on being requested, sung "'Twas merry in the hall,"
and at the conclusion was greeted with repeated rounds of
applause.

Mr. JONES.--One omission I conceive has been made.  The cause of
the Fund has been ably advocated, but it is still susceptible, in
my opinion, of an additional charm--

  "Without the smile from partial beauty won,
   Oh, what were man?--a world without a sun!"

And there would not be a darker spot in poetry than would be the
corner in Shakespeare Square, if, like its fellow, the Register
Office, the Theatre were deserted by the ladies.  They are, in
fact, our most attractive stars.  "The Patronesses of the
Theatre, the Ladies of the City of Edinburgh."  This toast I ask
leave to drink with all the honours which conviviality can
confer.

Mr. PATRICK ROBERTSON would be the last man willingly to
introduce any topic calculated to interrupt the harmony of the
evening; yet he felt himself treading upon ticklish ground when
he approached the region of the Nor' Loch.  He assured the
company, however, that he was not about to enter on the subject
of the Improvement Bill.  They all knew that if the public were
unanimous--if the consent of all parties were obtained--if the
rights and interests of everybody were therein attended to,
saved, reserved, respected, and excepted--if everybody agreed to
it--and, finally, a most essential point, if nobody opposed it
--then, and in that case, and provided also that due intimation
were given, the bill in question might pass--would pass--or
might, could, would, or should pass--all expenses being defrayed.
(Laughter.)  He was the advocate of neither champion, and would
neither avail himself of the absence of the Right Hon. the Lord
Provost, nor take advantage of the non-appearance of his friend,
Mr. Cockburn.  (Laughter.) But in the midst of these civic broils
there had been elicited a ray of hope that, at some future
period, in Bereford Park, or some other place, if all parties
were consulted and satisfied, and if intimation were duly made at
the kirk doors of all the parishes in Scotland, in terms of the
statute in that behalf provided--the people of Edinburgh might by
possibility get a new Theatre.  (Cheers and laughter.)  But
wherever the belligerent powers might be pleased to set down this
new Theatre, he was sure they all hoped to meet the Old Company
in it.  He should therefore propose "Better Accommodation to the
Old Company in the new Theatre, site unknown."--Mr. Robertson's
speech was most humorously given, and he sat down amidst loud
cheers and laughter.

Sir WALTER SCOTT.--Wherever the new Theatre is built, I hope it
will not be large.  There are two errors which we commonly
commit--the one arising from our pride, the other from our
poverty.  If there are twelve plans, it is odds but the largest,
without any regard to comfort, or an eye to the probable expense,
is adopted.  There was the College projected on this scale, and
undertaken in the same manner, and who shall see the end of it?
It has been building all my life, and may probably last during
the lives of my children, and my children's children.  Let not
the same prophetic hymn be sung when we commence a new Theatre,
which was performed on the occasion of laying the foundation-
stone of a certain edifice, "Behold the endless work begun."
Playgoing folks should attend somewhat to convenience.  The new
Theatre should, in the first place, be such as may be finished in
eighteen months or two years; and, in the second place, it should
be one in which we can hear our old friends with comfort.  It is
better that a moderate-sized house should be crowded now and
then, than to have a large theatre with benches continually
empty, to the discouragement of the actors and the discomfort of
the spectators.  (Applause.)  He then commented in flattering
terms on the genius of Mackenzie and his private worth, and
concluded by proposing "The Health of Henry Mackenzie, Esq."

Immediately afterwards he said:--Gentlemen, it is now wearing
late, and I shall request permission to retire.  Like Partridge,
I may say, "NON SUM QUALIS ERAM."  At my time of day I can agree
with Lord Ogilvie as to his rheumatism, and say, "There's a
twinge."  I hope, therefore, you will excuse me for leaving the
chair.--The worthy Baronet then retired amidst long, loud, and
rapturous cheering.

Mr. PATRICK ROBERTSON was then called to the chair by common
acclamation.

Gentlemen, said Mr. Robertson, I take the liberty of asking you
to fill a bumper to the very brim.  There is not one of us who
will not remember, while he lives, being present at this day's
festival, and the declaration made this night by the gentleman
who has just left the chair.  That declaration has rent the veil
from the features of the Great Unknown--a name which must now
merge in the name of the Great Known.  It will be henceforth
coupled with the name of SCOTT, which will become familiar like a
household word.  We have heard the confession from his own
immortal lips--(cheering)--and we cannot dwell with too much or
too fervent praise on the merits of the greatest man whom
Scotland has produced.

After which several other toasts were given, and Mr. Robertson
left the room about half-past eleven.  A few choice spirits,
however, rallied round Captain Broadhead of the 7th Hussars, who
was called to the chair, and the festivity was prolonged till an
early hour on Saturday morning.

The band of the Theatre occupied the gallery, and that of the 7th
Hussars the end of the room, opposite the chair, whose
performances were greatly admired.  It is but justice to Mr. Gibb
to state that the dinner was very handsome (though slowly served
in), and the wines good.  The attention of the stewards was
exemplary.  Mr. Murray and Mr. Vandenhoff, with great good taste,
attended on Sir Walter Scott's right and left, and we know that
he has expressed himself much gratified by their anxious
politeness and sedulity.


*


CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE - INTRODUCTORY.



CHAPTER I.

MR. CHRYSTAL CROFTANGRY'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.

Sic itur ad astra.

"This is the path to heaven."  Such is the ancient motto attached
to the armorial bearings of the Canongate, and which is
inscribed, with greater or less propriety, upon all the public
buildings, from the church to the pillory, in the ancient quarter
of Edinburgh which bears, or rather once bore, the same relation
to the Good Town that Westminster does to London, being still
possessed of the palace of the sovereign, as it formerly was
dignified by the residence of the principal nobility and gentry.
I may therefore, with some propriety, put the same motto at the
head of the literary undertaking by which I hope to illustrate
the hitherto undistinguished name of Chrystal Croftangry.

The public may desire to know something of an author who pitches
at such height his ambitious expectations.  The gentle reader,
therefore--for I am much of Captain Bobadil's humour, and could
to no other extend myself so far--the GENTLE reader, then, will
be pleased to understand that I am a a Scottish gentleman of the
old school, with a fortune, temper, and person, rather the worse
for wear.  I have known the world for these forty years, having
written myself man nearly since that period--and I do not think
it is much mended.  But this is an opinion which I keep to myself
when I am among younger folk, for I recollect, in my youth,
quizzing the Sexagenarians who carried back their ideas of a
perfect state of society to the days of laced coats and triple
ruffles, and some of them to the blood and blows of the Forty-
five.  Therefore I am cautious in exercising the right of
censorship, which is supposed to be acquired by men arrived at,
or approaching, the mysterious period of life, when the numbers
of seven and nine multiplied into each other, form what sages
have termed the Grand Climacteric.

Of the earlier part of my life it is only necessary to say, that
I swept the boards of the Parliament-House with the skirts of my
gown for the usual number of years during which young Lairds were
in my time expected to keep term--got no fees--laughed, and made
others laugh--drank claret at Bayle's, Fortune's, and Walker's--
and ate oysters in the Covenant Close.

Becoming my own master, I flung my gown at the bar-keeper, and
commenced gay man on my own account.  In Edinburgh, I ran into
all the expensive society which the place then afforded.  When I
went to my house in the shire of Lanark, I emulated to the utmost
the expenses of men of large fortune, and had my hunters, my
first-rate pointers, my game-cocks, and feeders.  I can more
easily forgive myself for these follies, than for others of a
still more blamable kind, so indifferently cloaked over, that my
poor mother thought herself obliged to leave my habitation, and
betake herself to a small inconvenient jointure-house, which she
occupied till her death.  I think, however, I was not exclusively
to blame in this separation, and I believe my mother afterwards
condemned herself for being too hasty.  Thank God, the adversity
which destroyed the means of continuing my dissipation, restored
me to the affections of my surviving parent.

My course of life could not last.  I ran too fast to run long;
and when I would have checked my career, I was perhaps too near
the brink of the precipice.  Some mishaps I prepared by my own
folly, others came upon me unawares.  I put my estate out to
nurse to a fat man of business, who smothered the babe he should
have brought back to me in health and strength, and, in dispute
with this honest gentleman, I found, like a skilful general, that
my position would be most judiciously assumed by taking it up
near the Abbey of Holyrood.  [See Note 1.--Holyrood.]  It was then
I first became acquainted with the quarter, which my little work
will, I hope, render immortal, and grew familiar with those
magnificent wilds, through which the Kings of Scotland once
chased the dark-brown deer, but which were chiefly recommended to
me in those days, by their being inaccessible to those
metaphysical persons, whom the law of the neighbouring country
terms John Doe and Richard Roe.  In short, the precincts of the
palace are now best known as being a place of refuge at any time
from all pursuit for civil debt.

Dire was the strife betwixt my quondam doer and myself; during
which my motions were circumscribed, like those of some conjured
demon, within a circle, which, "beginning at the northern gate of
the King's Park, thence running northways, is bounded on the left
by the King's garden-wall, and the gutter, or kennel, in a line
wherewith it crosses the High Street to the Watergate, and
passing through the sewer, is bounded by the walls of the Tennis
Court and Physic Gardens, etc.  It then follows the wall of the
churchyard, joins the north west wall of St Ann's Yards, and
going east to the clackmill-house, turns southward to the
turnstile in the King's Park wall, and includes the whole King's
Park within the Sanctuary."

These limits, which I abridge from the accurate Maitland, once
marked the Girth, or Asylum, belonging to the Abbey of Holyrood,
and which, being still an appendage to the royal palace, has
retained the privilege of an asylum for civil debt.  One would
think the space sufficiently extensive for a man to stretch his
limbs in, as, besides a reasonable proportion of level ground
(considering that the scene lies in Scotland), it includes within
its precincts the mountain of Arthur's Seat and the rocks and
pasture land called Salisbury Crags.  But yet it is inexpressible
how, after a certain time had elapsed, I used to long for Sunday,
which permitted me to extend my walk without limitation.  During
the other six days of the week I felt a sickness of heart, which,
but for the speedy approach of the hebdomadal day of liberty, I
could hardly have endured.  I experienced the impatience of a
mastiff who tugs in vain to extend the limits which his chain
permits.

Day after day I walked by the side of the kennel which divides
the Sanctuary from the unprivileged part of the Canongate; and
though the month was July, and the scene the old town of
Edinburgh, I preferred it to the fresh air and verdant turf which
I might have enjoyed in the King's Park, or to the cool and
solemn gloom of the portico which surrounds the palace.  To an
indifferent person either side of the gutter would have seemed
much the same, the houses equally mean, the children as ragged
and dirty, the carmen as brutal--the whole forming the same
picture of low life in a deserted and impoverished quarter of a
large city.  But to me the gutter or kennel was what the brook
Kidron was to Shimei:  death was denounced against him should he
cross it, doubtless because it was known to his wisdom who
pronounced the doom that, from the time the crossing the stream
was debarred, the devoted man's desire to transgress the precept
would become irresistible, and he would be sure to draw down on
his head the penalty which he had already justly incurred by
cursing the anointed of God.  For my part, all Elysium seemed
opening on the other side of the kennel; and I envied the little
blackguards, who, stopping the current with their little dam-
dykes of mud, had a right to stand on either side of the nasty
puddle which best pleased them.  I was so childish as even to
make an occasional excursion across, were it only for a few
yards, and felt the triumph of a schoolboy, who, trespassing in
an orchard, hurries back again with a fluttering sensation of joy
and terror, betwixt the pleasure of having executed his purpose
and the fear of being taken or discovered.

I have sometimes asked myself what I should have done in case of
actual imprisonment, since I could not bear without impatience a
restriction which is comparatively a mere trifle; but I really
could never answer the question to my own satisfaction.  I have
all my life hated those treacherous expedients called MEZZO-
TERMINI, and it is possible with this disposition I might have
endured more patiently an absolute privation of liberty than the
more modified restrictions to which my residence in the Sanctuary
at this period subjected me.  If, however, the feelings I then
experienced were to increase in intensity according to the
difference between a jail and my actual condition, I must have
hanged myself, or pined to death--there could have been no other
alternative.

Amongst many companions who forgot and neglected me, of course,
when my difficulties seemed to be inextricable, I had one true
friend; and that friend was a barrister, who knew the laws of his
country well, and tracing them up to the spirit of equity and
justice in which they originate, had repeatedly prevented, by his
benevolent and manly exertions, the triumphs of selfish cunning
over simplicity and folly.  He undertook my cause, with the
assistance of a solicitor of a character similar to his own.  My
quondam doer had ensconced himself chin-deep among legal
trenches, hornworks, and covered ways; but my two protectors
shelled him out of his defences, and I was at length a free man,
at liberty to go or stay wheresoever my mind listed.

I left my lodgings as hastily as if it had been a pest-house.  I
did not even stop to receive some change that was due to me on
settling with my landlady, and I saw the poor woman stand at her
door looking after my precipitate flight, and shaking her head as
she wrapped the silver which she was counting for me in a
separate piece of paper, apart from the store in her own moleskin
purse.  An honest Highlandwoman was Janet MacEvoy, and deserved a
greater remuneration, had I possessed the power of bestowing it.
But my eagerness of delight was too extreme to pause for
explanation with Janet.  On I pushed through the groups of
children, of whose sports I had been so often a lazy, lounging
spectator.  I sprung over the gutter as if it had been the fatal
Styx, and I a ghost, which, eluding Pluto's authority, was making
its escape from Limbo lake.  My friend had difficulty to restrain
me from running like a madman up the street; and in spite of his
kindness and hospitality, which soothed me for a day or two, I
was not quite happy until I found myself aboard of a Leith smack,
and, standing down the Firth with a fair wind, might snap my
fingers at the retreating outline of Arthur's Seat, to the
vicinity of which I had been so long confined.

It is not my purpose to trace my future progress through life.  I
had extricated myself, or rather had been freed by my friends,
from the brambles and thickets of the law; but, as befell the
sheep in the fable, a great part of my fleece was left behind me.
Something remained, however:  I was in the season for exertion,
and, as my good mother used to say, there was always life for
living folk.  Stern necessity gave my manhood that prudence which
my youth was a stranger to.  I faced danger, I endured fatigue, I
sought foreign climates, and proved that I belonged to the nation
which is proverbially patient of labour and prodigal of life.
Independence, like liberty to Virgil's shepherd, came late, but
came at last, with no great affluence in its train, but bringing
enough to support a decent appearance for the rest of my life,
and to induce cousins to be civil, and gossips to say, "I wonder
whom old Croft will make his heir?  He must have picked up
something, and I should not be surprised if it prove more than
folk think of."

My first impulse when I returned home was to rush to the house of
my benefactor, the only man who had in my distress interested
himself in my behalf.  He was a snuff-taker, and it had been the
pride of my heart to save the IPSA CORPORA of the first score of
guineas I could hoard, and to have them converted into as
tasteful a snuff-box as Rundell and Bridge could devise.  This I
had thrust for security into the breast of my waistcoat, while,
impatient to transfer it to the person for whom it was destined,
I hastened to his house in Brown Square.  When the front of the
house became visible a feeling of alarm checked me.  I had been
long absent from Scotland; my friend was some years older than I;
he might have been called to the congregation of the just.  I
paused, and gazed on the house as if I had hoped to form some
conjecture from the outward appearance concerning the state of
the family within.  I know not how it was, but the lower windows
being all closed, and no one stirring, my sinister forebodings
were rather strengthened.  I regretted now that I had not made
inquiry before I left the inn where I alighted from the mail-
coach.  But it was too late; so I hurried on, eager to know the
best or the worst which I could learn.

The brass-plate bearing my friend's name and designation was
still on the door, and when it was opened the old domestic
appeared a good deal older, I thought, than he ought naturally to
have looked, considering the period of my absence.  "Is Mr.
Sommerville at home?"  said I, pressing forward.

"Yes, sir," said John, placing himself in opposition to my
entrance, "he is at home, but--"

"But he is not in," said I.  "I remember your phrase of old,
John.  Come, I will step into his room, and leave a line for
him."

John was obviously embarrassed by my familiarity.  I was some
one, he saw, whom he ought to recollect.  At the same time it was
evident he remembered nothing about me.

"Ay, sir, my master is in, and in his own room, but--"

I would not hear him out, but passed before him towards the well-
known apartment.  A young lady came out of the room a little
disturbed, as it seemed, and said, "John, what is the matter?"

"A gentleman, Miss Nelly, that insists on seeing my master."

"A very old and deeply-indebted friend," said I, "that ventures
to press myself on my much-respected benefactor on my return from
abroad."

"Alas, sir," replied she, "my uncle would be happy to see you,
but--"

At this moment something was heard within the apartment like the
falling of a plate, or glass, and immediately after my friend's
voice called angrily and eagerly for his niece.  She entered the
room hastily, and so did I.  But it was to see a spectacle,
compared with which that of my benefactor stretched on his bier
would have been a happy one.

The easy-chair filled with cushions, the extended limbs swathed
in flannel, the wide wrapping-gown and nightcap, showed illness;
but the dimmed eye, once so replete with living fire--the blabber
lip, whose dilation and compression used to give such character
to his animated countenance--the stammering tongue, that once
poured forth such floods of masculine eloquence, and had often
swayed the opinion of the sages whom he addressed,--all these sad
symptoms evinced that my friend was in the melancholy condition
of those in whom the principle of animal life has unfortunately
survived that of mental intelligence.  He gazed a moment at me,
but then seemed insensible of my presence, and went on--he, once
the most courteous and well-bred--to babble unintelligible but
violent reproaches against his niece and servant, because he
himself had dropped a teacup in attempting to place it on a table
at his elbow.  His eyes caught a momentary fire from his
irritation; but he struggled in vain for words to express himself
adequately, as, looking from his servant to his niece, and then
to the table, he laboured to explain that they had placed it
(though it touched his chair) at too great a distance from him.

The young person, who had naturally a resigned Madonna-like
expression of countenance, listened to his impatient chiding with
the most humble submission, checked the servant, whose less
delicate feelings would have entered on his justification, and
gradually, by the sweet and soft tone of her voice, soothed to
rest the spirit of causeless irritation.

She then cast a look towards me, which expressed, "You see all
that remains of him whom you call friend."  It seemed also to
say, "Your longer presence here can only be distressing to us
all."

"Forgive me, young lady," I said, as well as tears would permit;
"I am a person deeply obliged to your uncle.  My name is
Croftangry."

"Lord!  and that I should not hae minded ye, Maister Croftangry,"
said the servant.  "Ay, I mind my master had muckle fash about
your job.  I hae heard him order in fresh candles as midnight
chappit, and till't again.  Indeed, ye had aye his gude word, Mr.
Croftangry, for a' that folks said about you."