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.