"

After a few more toasts, the Gazette observes "the night was wearing late,
and the rest of the proceedings were obliged to be hurried through in
rather a tumultuous manner." The unluckiest occurrence of all followed by
Captain Basil Hall's mention of the word "politics," which "let slip the
dogs of war," or at least led to much confusion. This was explained away;
but the Captain was "put out," and "he was again unfortunate in attempting
to pay a pleasant compliment, upon the excellence of his dinners, to Sir
George Warrender, whose health was next drunk, in conjunction with the
Scottish members of the legislature.--Sir George Warrender said he had no
claim to have his name introduced on this occasion, and, however kindly
intended, it had been done in a manner alike unexpected and painful to him.
He came there as a Scotchman, proud to assist at a festival in honour of
one of those eminent men who, in giving an imperishable fame to the poetry
of Scotland, obtained for their country triumphs far more noble, far more
durable, than even those which his gallant friend, who had lately
addressed them, or than any other statesman or warrior, could achieve; for
when the contests of individuals, and even of nations, for power had
passed away, and were heard of no more, the verses of Burns and Walter
Scott would still live in every quarter of the globe, to perpetuate their
own glory, and to inspire ardent patriotism and intense love of native
land into every Scottish heart.--Mr. P.S. Stewart, as another of the
Scottish members, addressed the company with much energy, and restored
harmony by remarking, that if he was not tried by his dinners, he hoped to
be always tried by his deserts. In conclusion, he drank the health of Mr.
Galt, whose literary talents shed a lustre on the west of Scotland, with
which he was particularly connected. It was now, however, near the
witching hour of night, or we might say of night's black arch, the key
stane; and many from the lower parts of the hall had crowded up to the top;
so that regularity of speech, or bumper, or song, there could be none.
Galt's thanks died in embryo; and the concluding toasts of Mr. Murchison
and Mr. Sedgewick, and the sciences of Scotland and England; the London
Burns' Club, the stewards, and even the ladies, had but their cheers, and
passed away. At length the pipes droned forth, and the festive drama
closed.

"We ought to record that it was enlivened by many bowls of pu