^ "hi. 
 
 
 
 ^.•'^'.% 
 
 
 
 
 ^'> 
 
 ^^_«1*7 
 

 
/ 
 
 THE ^7/» 
 
 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE BIRTHD_A.Y 
 
 ROBERT BUENS, 
 
 7' 
 
 AS COMMEIIORATED BY HIS'COUNTRYMEN, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 CITY OF MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN, 
 
 JANUARY 25th, 1859. 
 
 NEMO MR IMPURE 
 
 REPORTED POR THE BURNS' CLUB, BY G. W. FEATHERSTONHAUGH, ESQ , 
 
 "^ chiefs amang you taking notes, 
 Ar^ faith he'll prent them.'''' 
 
 MILWAUKEE: 
 
 DAILY NEWS BOOK AND JOB STEAM PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT. 
 1 8 S 9. 
 
CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY. 
 
 " The gossip keekit in his loof, 
 
 Qiio scho, wha Ihtes will see the proof, 
 
 This waly boy will be nae coof, 
 
 I think xee'll ccC him Robin ! 
 
 He'll hoe misfortunes^ great and smai', 
 But aye a heart aboon them a'; 
 ffeUl be a credit to us o' — 
 
 We'll a' be proud o' Robin ! " 
 
 The Reporter of the Bdens' Club, of the City of Milwau- 
 kee, for the celebration of the Centennial Anniversary of the 
 Birthday of Robert Burns, cannot, in justice to the pro- 
 ceedings of that memorable occasion permit them to pass in 
 the evanescent accounts of the newspapers without an attempt 
 to collect them into some permanent form, to serve as an 
 agreeable memorial of an event so full of festive pleasure and 
 of brilliant, intellectual and social delight. 
 
 It was a Banquet, possessing moral as well as social merits, 
 enjoyed by as noble hearted a company of Scotchmen as ever 
 assembled together on a joyous occasion. It is for the purpose 
 of gratifying a universally expressed desire that we have 
 adopted this method of perpetuating the memories and the 
 effusions of that glorious night. 
 
 It is truly said, that the sculptor can only produce form ; 
 the painter form and color ; the actor, alone, form, color and 
 motion — until the poet furnishes him thoughts and words. That 
 the human heart opens to him, and to him only, an exclusive 
 province, of which no art but his own can command the pas- 
 sions, joys, woes or aspirations. 
 
CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 He, who neglecting or disdaining gorgeous enhancements, 
 terrific accessories, or the burnished phantoms of social artifi- 
 ciality, appeals for a universal response, successfully and alone, 
 to the breast whose untaught hymn he measures, is in truth a 
 Poet — a Bard of the highest order in his imperial art, and 
 lives for ever. 
 
 We have just celebrated the Birthday of such a master of 
 modern song. One hundred years ago, Robert Burns was 
 born, in a cottage built by the hands of his father, on the 
 road-side, two miles from the town of Ayr. His early 
 history is suflSciently familiar to mankind. We know how 
 limited was his self-taught education — that his opportunities 
 were still more narrow for acquiring it — that his genius was 
 neither fostered nor inspired by ancient models of composition 
 — that his knowledge of the great mass of English verse, since 
 Chaucer displayed its power five hundred years ago, down to 
 his own day, was necessarily imperfect — that if he was familiar 
 with Thomson's blank verse and Shenstone's ballads, or if the 
 poems of Ferguson had reconciled him to clothe his Scottish 
 themes in Scottish idiom — he had not seen the Ballads of 
 Grenada, nor opened the original page of Dante's Inferno. 
 
 It is known that his youth and early manhood were chained 
 to rustic labor, his intelligence known only to the narrow circle 
 of a local debating society or to some half dozen educated per- 
 sons near by. So that, when in his twenty-seventh year, from 
 the nearest provinciaL press in Ayrshire, at the town of Kil- 
 marnock, hisf surpassing genius flashed upon the world — the 
 conclusion is inevitable, that the strains which have made his 
 name revered in every civilized country, and become the glory 
 and boast of their own, rose by their transcendent merit from 
 obscurity to the highest fame. 
 
 We need not dwell upon the properties of the dialect he 
 adopted for the vehicle of his finesi inspirations— its flexibility 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 
 
 and pathos — its singular facility in rythmetieal adaptation — 
 combined witli a tenderness and endearment of expression — 
 with a peculiar earnest kindliness of utterance when spoken, 
 give it, apart from the imposing archaisms, lost, if ever possess- 
 ed, by the English tongue, many facilities for lyric composition 
 which the latter cannot claim. 
 
 The brilliancy of wit which appears in his poems, was 
 equally present in his conversation. After his first success, 
 he repaired to Edinburgh, and was received by all ranks and 
 classes as the greatest genius of the period, and considered a 
 man that his countrymen could not admire and honor too much. 
 
 He died, at the age fatal to Byron, in his thirty-seventh year. 
 He left behind him the enthusiastic love of his countrymen, a 
 character exalted by its integrity and independence, and the 
 admiration until the latest time, of all those, humble or illus- 
 trious, who can comprehend the emanations of his sovereign 
 genius. 
 
 Early in the evening, the company began to assemble in the 
 gorgeous Halls and Parlors of the Newhall House — a Hotel 
 which, for its architectural magnificence, its internal splendor 
 and accommodation, its hospitable and masterly management, 
 has been pronounced by Horace GtReeley of the New York 
 Tribune to be second to none in the world. The gathering at 
 this time has been pronounced, in a published account of the 
 occasion, to be " one of the finest looking bodies of men we 
 have ever seen." One might well have fancied himself in 
 " Bonnie Scotland" to look around and see the Plaids, Blue 
 Bonnets, Glengarrys, and the Thistle Badges which adorned 
 the breast of each Member of the Club, while every counten- 
 ance beamed bright with native humor and Scotch enthusiasm. 
 
 Among the characteristic observances of such an occasion, 
 a gentleman, Mr. James Kerr, appeared in full Highland 
 Costume, wearing the Royal Stuart Tartan, who, on entering 
 the Hall, was received with loud applause. 
 
OBMTSNNIAL ANWltTBBSA&t OF 
 
 At eight o'clock, a business meeting was called to order in 
 Parlor D, for the purpose of completing the organization of a 
 Saint Andrew's Society. 
 
 Hon. Wm. K.Wilson, Chairman of a Committee appointed 
 at a previous meeting to select names for Officers, presented 
 the following, which were unanimously elected : 
 
 President — Alexander Mitchell. 
 Ist Vice President — Arthur McAethur. 
 2rf Vice President — William Graham. 
 Secretary — Robert Menzies. 
 Assistant Secretary — John Portbods. 
 Treasurer — David FERausoN. 
 Chaplain — Rev. Dr. Pypbr. 
 
 Board of Managers — Jas. Mdrray, Hugh Cooper, John 
 Bailey, James Kerr and Georqb McNeil. 
 
 Judge McArthur, who presided, announced the result of 
 the election, amidst great applause, and appointed a Commit- 
 tee, consisting of Messrs. John McEwen and Jambs Kerr, 
 to escort the President elect to the Chair. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell then, in well conceived and felicitous terms, 
 returned thanks for the honor which had just been conferred 
 upon him. 
 
 During these preliminaries, some sixty gentlemen enroled 
 their names as Members of the Society. 
 
 Supper being announced, tht company, preceded by the 
 President and Chaplain, entered the spacious Dining Hall, 
 which had been beautifully decorated with appropriate em- 
 blems and devices. 
 
 The walls were hung with excellent paintings and engrav- 
 ings, all beautifully and touchingly festooned with evergreens 
 and flowers, conspicuous among which was the "wee, modest, 
 crimson tipped flower."' At the head of the apartment, behind 
 the President, were tastefully and significantly entwined the 
 national flags of Great Britain and the United States of Ame- 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS, 
 
 rica ; beneath them were two fine engravings of the Poet ; on 
 each side of the President were two well executed oil paint- 
 ings of the Cottage in which Burns was born, and the Monu- 
 ment erected over his remains at Dumfries, painted expressly 
 for the occasion by Mr. Andrew Kerr ; and a picture of a 
 Convivial Scene in Scotland, painted by the same artist, was 
 suspended at the foot of the Table. 
 
 The Bill of Fare, filled with upwards of one hundred dif- 
 ferent dishes, of the rarest and choicest kinds, was such a one 
 as the proprietors of the Newhall only know how to serve up. 
 The Carte a manger, neatly and beautifully printed in bronze 
 and colors, and much admired as a specimen of the art pre- 
 servative of all arts, was designed and executed by Messrs. 
 Andrew C. Murison and James Kerr, Job Printers at the 
 Kews Printing Establishment. 
 
 The Table on which the Banquet was spread was orna- 
 mented with excellent models, in confectionery, of Tam o' 
 Shanter on his grey mare Meg, with the ever famous Tam 
 in the saddle, and the Witch grasping the grey mare's tail ; 
 the old Cottage ; and the Monument on the Banks of the. 
 Doon — the handiwork of Mr. Alex. Brown, the chef de 
 cuisine of the Newhall. There were also disposed upon the 
 Table some Roses from the Tomb of Burns, a piece of the 
 " Trystin' Tree," under which he sat with his Highland 
 Mary, and Heather from the Grampian Hills. Bouquets 
 of Flowers were scattered in various parts of the Hall, 
 while the Chandeliers poured a flood of light over the gorge- 
 ous spectacle. 
 
 Alex. Mitchell, Esq., presided at the Table, assisted by 
 the Hon. Arthur McArthur, Judge of the Second Judicial 
 Circuit, as Croupier. 
 
 Before the company were seated, a blessing was asked by 
 the Rev. Dr. Pyper, Chaplain of the St. Andrew's Society. 
 
CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 One hundred and fifty gentlemen, among whom were several 
 Americans, guests from various parts of the State, and Chi- 
 cago, together with representatives of numerous nationalities, 
 participated in the sumptuous feast. 
 
 One of the characteristic demonstrations of the evening was 
 the introduction of the " Haggis," and the delivery, by Mr. 
 KoBERT Menzies, of BuRNs' famous Address to that national 
 dish of Scotland. This was rendered with fine efi"ect, eliciting 
 peals of laughter from the whole company. 
 
 On the removal of the cloth, the President arose and com- 
 menced the intellectual and soul-inspiring exercises of the 
 evening by the following brief but pointed address, which was 
 rapturously received : 
 
 Gentlemen — The Committee who were charged with mak- 
 ing arrangements for this Celebration have seen fit to assign 
 to me the position I now occupy — a fact which, I fear, says 
 more for their partiality than it does for their wisdom ; but, 
 deeming apologies or excuses to be, on such an occasion, 
 out of place, I shall, like a good soldier, accept the honor- 
 able post allotted to me, and endeavor to discharge its duties 
 as I best can. [Applause.] 
 
 We are met to-night to commemorate the day, and to do 
 honor to the memory of the man to whom it gave birth — 
 Scotland's greatest, dearest Poet, Robert Burns. [Cheers.] 
 The present Anniversary is invested with unusual interest, 
 of which the goodly gathering before me afford abundant 
 proof, it being, as you are aware, just one hundred years to- 
 day since our Poet was given to the world. Born, the eldest 
 son of poor but most worthy peasants of Ayr ; brought up 
 in a condition in life but little above that of a farm servant, 
 with a limited education, and with but few opportunities 
 for self improvement, he, by the force and versatility of 
 his genius, and by showing himself to be one of the first 
 poetic spirits, has earned for himself a fame, which, measur- 
 ably national at the time of his death, has since become co- 
 extensive with civilization, and is still increasing. [Loud 
 cheers.] 
 
 It is not my intention to enter into a description of Burns' 
 character as a Man, or of his genius as a Poet — these form 
 a theme of which it will devolve on others, better able to do 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 9 
 
 it justice, to speak, and I will not attempt to anticipate 
 what may then be said. 
 
 It affords me, as I am sure it does every other Scotchman 
 present, great pleasure to see with us, on this occasion, seve- 
 ral of our American friends, and also friends representing 
 other nationalities. I believe it to be an undoubted fact, 
 and it certainly is a gratifying one, that nowhere outside of 
 Scotland is Burns as well understood and as much admired 
 as in this country. [Applause.] 
 
 It may not be out of place for me to say that I regard, 
 and I am sure in this our American friends will agree with 
 me, national meetings, like the present, as being quite con- 
 sistent with our fidelity to our adopted country, whose honor 
 and interests we will, under any and all circumstances, never 
 fail to defend and maintain. [Loud and prolonged applause.] 
 But what matters it, if we, sons of old Scotia, meet to talk of 
 "Auld Lang Syne," and to think of 
 
 Caledonia ! stern and wild, 
 Meet nurse for a poetic child ; 
 Land of brown heath aod ahagsrv wood, 
 Land of the mountain and the flood. 
 
 I am sure that the man who can retain no kindly recollec- 
 tion of, and no regard for, the country that gave him birth, 
 will make but an indifferent citizen in the country of his 
 adoption. [Cheers.] 
 
 And now, gentlemen, I trust that, with a due admixture 
 of toasts, speeches, poems, anecdotes, and songs, you will 
 give a slack rein to mirth and innocent enjoyment — that the 
 evening may be spent in a manner worthy of the day, worthy 
 of the Poet, and worthy of ourselves. [Great cheering.] 
 
 The President concluded by giving the toast of the. 
 evening: 
 
 The Memory of Burns. 
 
 Which was drank standing and in silence. 
 
 Judge McArthur being called upon, responded to the 
 
 sentiment in his usual eloquent manner. His speech, which 
 
 is a perfect model of what such addresses ought to be, was 
 
 heightened in force and effect by the magnificent voice and 
 
 cultivated intonation of the Judge, whose personal advantages 
 
 are too widely known to require any comment : 
 
 Mr. President — On the 25th day of January, in the year 
 1759, about two miles from the ancient town of Ayr, in the 
 
10 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 south-western part of S'otland, and near the banks and 
 braes of Bonnie Doon, tL« greatest Poet that ever sprang 
 from the bosom of the people first drew the breath of life. 
 On the 25th day of Janue'y, in the year 1859, one century 
 having completed its revocation to a moment, we are gather- 
 ed here to commemorate, in this splendid manner, the Life 
 to which that distant night gave birth, and which has left 
 behind it the undying memory which is so appropriately 
 contained in the toast just read. 
 
 We are not more divided in time from the period of the 
 Poet's birth than we are geographically remote from his 
 native land, and although we are separated from the rugged 
 heights and romantic glens of Scotland by thousands of 
 miles of tempest and of ocean, of plain and mountain, yet 
 we pour our oblation to his memory in the heart of the 
 American Continent. Nor are we alone in this demonstra- 
 tion of Scottish feeling — for our countrymen, wherever, on 
 this round earth, their enterprise or their courage may have 
 carried them, are, to-night, united exultingly in the genius 
 and productions of our incomparable Bard. 
 
 In a recent newspaper article, the question was asked, 
 " where are not Scotchmen found ?" and I would repeat the 
 enquiry. You have, doubtless, read of the English traveler, 
 who had met them everywhere, and who, in order to get rid 
 of them, ascended an Egyptian Pyramid, but, on reaching 
 the summit, was met by a blue eyed Scot, who held out his 
 mull and asked him to " tak' a pinch o' snuff." [Laughter.] 
 Also, the story of a Scotch traveler, who discovered a Grand 
 Vizier, in Turkey, to be a fellow schoolmate, by his asking 
 the former, when he was ushered into his presence, how long 
 it had been since he left Aberdeen. [Cheers and laughter.] 
 But wherever the Scotchman is to-night, in whatever clime 
 he may be seeking fortune, or improving by his industry 
 and solid virtues, whether on the bluffs of Lake Michigan, 
 on the banks of the Hudson, on the Nile, or the Ganges, 
 the Pacific or the Atlantic, he is celebrating, with unfalter- 
 ing and increasing enthusiasm, the anniversary of the birth 
 of Burns, and the recollections of dear, old Scotland. [Great 
 applause.] In our native country, all classes, the educated 
 and the uneducated, (but there is no unlettered class in Scot- 
 land,) the high and the low, are now uniting in this obla- 
 tion to the Poet's memory. And so are Americans partici- 
 pating in similar demonstrations. The Choates, the Ever- 
 ETTS, the LoNGPELLows, the Bryants, the Bancrofts, the 
 Parkers and the Beechers, are all with us to-night. Why 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 11 
 
 this mighty diapason of praise and admiration ? Because 
 Bdrns was born a Poet, He came from nature already 
 made a Poet. He came as the breezes come — as the daisy 
 grows upon the hill side. Nature sent him forth and he 
 always sang in the name of nature. (Loud and prolonged 
 applause.) 
 
 He has spoken to and of nature in her highest and most 
 spiritual forms, for he has spoken to and for humanity, and 
 humanity now speaks its accents of tenderness and love for 
 him, and will ever continue to utter his fame while the soul 
 is adorned with feeling, or enobled by reason or imaginajtion. 
 Scotland may never witness again such a day as his birth. 
 She had waited patiently through the long centuries to be- 
 hold her sympathies idealized in the deathless creations of 
 genius. She had produced many Poets, whose strains had 
 all but rivalled those of Chaucer and SPENdER ; but not till 
 Burns, the great master, who could sweep the lyre strings of 
 her grand old heart. [Applause.] Well' and proudly might 
 she turn her bright blue eye in thankfulness to Heaven for 
 the fresher life of the new born flower. Expectation was 
 fulfilled. The green verdure upon the banks and braes of 
 her rushing waters, the purple of her moorlands, the gowan 
 in the sheltered valley, the daisy on the mountain, the beauty 
 of her maidens and the virtues of her sons, their customs 
 and their habits, were to abide forever in the mirror of his 
 immortal verse. [Great applause.] 
 
 His birth was humble — within the four walls of an old 
 clay biggin. No line of illustrious ancestry preceded him. 
 No regal splendor gave it lustre. But what was this to a 
 man like Burns. Nature, in giving him the poet's wreath, 
 had crowned him with a diadem more radiant than ever 
 graced the brow of royalty. [Cheers.] 
 
 It was another proud day for Scotland when he issued his 
 first collection of poems from the Kilmarnock press ! What 
 a collection of poetry was that ! There was " Holy Willie's 
 Prayer." [Here some one exclaimed "Amen."] There, 
 also, was the "Ordination," and the "Holy Fair," form- 
 ing an Epic Trinity of the most exquisite satire. Here let 
 me say that the soul of Burns yearned with fraternal feeling ; 
 his sympathies flowed out to every breathing object. He 
 had even a touch of pity for the Deil — 
 
 " I'm wae to think upo' yon den, 
 Ev«n for your sake." 
 
 But, with all his human tenderness, there was one charac- 
 ter that he hated with unrelenting power, and that was the 
 
12 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSART OF 
 
 hypocrite. He lived in an age and country in which there 
 was much true piety and respect for the duties of religion, 
 and yet there was some coarseness and a considerable deal 
 of pious affectation and cant. Everybody saw this, and felt 
 it, but none dared expose it, till Burns, in theae matchless 
 poems, held up the odious character to a derision that shall 
 last for ever. [Great applause.] There, too, was the 
 "Cottar's Saturday Night," which I will place by the side 
 of the Iliad of any nation. Such a picture of simplicity in 
 domestic piety and family devotion is found in no other 
 Poet, and perhaps the pious song could apply to no other 
 people. I have often thought that this production was like 
 a statue, perfect in all its proportions, and every feature 
 rounded off and softened into beauty. There, too, was his 
 "Address to the Deil." This has always appeared to me to 
 be one of the m'ost wonderful creations that has ever ema- 
 nated from human genius. Milton had described his Sa- 
 tanic Majesty before then, and had invested him with dia- 
 bolic grandeur ; and Dante had been equally terrible. 
 Besides, at that time, the Devil was thoroughly believed in 
 by our countrymen ! [Tremendous cheering.] But with a 
 few touches of his sovereign humor, and the ridiculous 
 images and wit, which he mingles with these verses, the 
 Devil, who had been the dread, became the laughing stock 
 of all Scotland. [Great laughter and cheering.] 
 
 Then comes his " Yision," in which Coila descends from 
 the sky ; and never did vision more beautifully respire from 
 the breath of genius. The evanescent shadow of an "serial 
 being " becomes an abiding figure of celestial form. Never 
 did so many images beam upon so limited a surface as on 
 that gorgeous mantle of green. Dr, Currie, in criticising 
 it, has said that it was over-crowded with beauty ; but I 
 will leave him to the tender mercies of old Kit North's 
 immortal crutch. [Laughter.] 
 
 It has been said by some of the essayists that there is a 
 painful absence of great characters in the works of Burns, 
 which, to some extent, is undoubtedly the case. He took no 
 pains to make dramatic heroes out of kings or princes. He 
 had no time to devote to them, or, if he had, it was not 
 worth his while. Besides, his life was constantly occupied 
 in providing for its wants. And there was another reason ; 
 he was a son of labor — one of the people. Their amuse- 
 ments, holidays, pastimes, their feelings and passions, were 
 the way-side flowers which bedecked his pathway. [Ap- 
 plause.] Even when he was surrounded by the aristocracy 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBERT BURNS, 13 
 
 of Edinburgh, he would occasionally turn aside from the 
 dazzling influences of his social position and mingle with 
 the people, making himself a brother with them. And when 
 he wandered forth in silent meditation on the bonnie banks 
 and braes, he sang so sweetly, or went up into the mists of 
 the mountains, his thoughts were still of his people. He 
 went with them to fair or market, to the ingle side, to the 
 reaping field and the plough. And it was a noble spectacle 
 to behold the greatest poetic genius of the age thus enobling 
 with his presence the bumble scenes of common life. He 
 has, however, left behind him sufficient to show that he was 
 equal to give expression to the noblest sentiments, and to 
 portray both great events and characters. Was there ever 
 such a bugle blast of national glory or freedom as " Scots 
 wha hae wi' Wallace bled ;" while, in the " Vision," he 
 brings out, in a few graphic lines, the inti«pid worthies of 
 his land, and the gallant races who had peopled it. Such 
 passages afford a glimpse of his sovereign power, to sing 
 great deeds, and to give us assurance that if he had not 
 sank into an early grave he would have called into imper- 
 ishable life the Scottish heroes, and the scenes of Scottish 
 valor, and set them in the choicest lays. 
 
 I will only add, that Lurns is worthy your admiration as 
 a man, and he has it undivided now and for ever. While 
 living, he was not only a poet, but a man, in every sense of 
 the word. It was he wuo wrote "A man's a man for a' 
 that." When he departed this earth, he could not look 
 back and recall a single violation of his truth or honesty. 
 I will close by repeating the sentiment I started with, "The 
 Memory of Burns." [Loud and prolonged applause.] 
 
 Judge McArthur having concluded, 
 
 Prof. B. I. DoRWARD, in compliance with a previous invita- 
 tion from the Committee of Arrangements, read the following 
 original Poem, which was greeted, from time to time, with 
 loud applause ; and, on its conclusion, Mr. Dorward took 
 his seat amidst immense cheering : 
 
 THE SOUL OF BUENS. 
 
 In that dear land, remember' d and beloved, 
 That lies far east, beyond the heaving wave, 
 A child was born — the firstling of his sire — 
 Within a cottage built of clay, 
 
 When earth was cold and white with snow, 
 Near the "Auld Kirk of Alloway," 
 A hundred years ago. 
 
14 CBMTBNNIAL ANNIVERSARY OJ 
 
 He lived, he loved, he sung— alas ! he died; 
 Yet, tho' the earth's cold bosom keeps his dagt, 
 His songs still breathe the old immortal fire — 
 The fire of love and patriot pride, 
 
 The fire to scorch hypocrisy. 
 The sympathy, warm, deep and wide, 
 The scorn of wrong and tyranny. 
 
 His soul, now free from stains of earth and time, 
 This very morning, on the day-spring rose, 
 And look'd once more upon that famous land — 
 That glorious land that gave him birth, 
 
 Where heather blooms, and fir trees wave — 
 That land of song and honest worth, 
 Which Bruce and Wallace bled to save. 
 
 And, unencumbered by this mortal coil, 
 His rapid glance swept o'er, from sea to sea. 
 The hill* and vules of Caledonia, 
 
 And saw within that space so brief, 
 
 The light of many a name renowned — 
 Poet, philosopher and chief — 
 Whose fame has reached earth's utmost boand. 
 
 And, in the ancient cities of his land, 
 He saw his countrymen pass to and fro 
 In preparation for a Festival. 
 
 He saw his own sons with a smile ; 
 
 He marked the true, the gifted, all 
 Hastening with joy o'er many a mile 
 To keep his first Centennial, 
 
 " Oh, Time !" he said, " Physician of all ilia ! ■ 
 Impartial Judge ! Avenger of all wrongs ! 
 Slow Winnower, that parts the wheat and chaff ! 
 Thy breath sweeps all the froth away, 
 . But spares the true wine, clear and bright ; 
 Thy footstep hides the worthless clay. 
 Thy hand lifts precious things to light. 
 
 Forgive me, that wh^n subject i o thy reign, 
 I stooped to murmur at my lov. state ! 
 The gift of Poesy, me Heaven Las shown — 
 Required no higher sphere than mine, 
 
 To feel and see the heart of man. 
 And woman — love and beauty's shrine ! 
 Or Nature's wond'rous face to scan. 
 
 Man's private, puny, grasping hand could ne'er 
 Enclose, or hide, the earth, or air, or sea; 
 With all their glooms and glories manifold. 
 The heart lies open to the poor. 
 And all its secrets poets tell. 
 Bring thoughts from Heaven's starry floor, 
 And images from earth and hell. 
 
THB BIRTHDAY 09 ROBBRT %URNS. 15 
 
 The pride of ancient and illustrions blood, 
 The mighty power of station and of gold, 
 Are weak and fleeting to that, magic spell 
 The Poet casts upon the mind ; 
 
 And earth would be without a Bard, 
 If man could pay for song and hymn — . 
 True genius is its own reward !" 
 
 Across the Atlantic, then, he winged his flight, 
 And paused above the cities of the east j 
 And there, the greatest names of this great land, 
 Admirers of the Scottish muse, 
 
 In speech, and toast, and melody. 
 Were pouring forth their strains profuse. 
 In honor of his memory. 
 
 Did he remember then his years of toil ? 
 His nights of sorrow, and his days of grief ? 
 Or for his frailties the sharp-tooth'd regret 1 
 0, no ! they all had pass'd away ; 
 
 And in their stead were peace and rest. 
 And sunshine of eternal day. 
 And hallow'd joy among the blest. 
 
 Still farther westward flew the soul of Burns j 
 Upon a rack of sunset clouds he came ; 
 And lo ! he stays above this gatheiing here ! 
 He now rejoices in our mirth, 
 
 He listens to our harmless glee, 
 And quafia a wine, not found on earth — 
 The wine of Immortality ! 
 
 Mr. John Porteous then sung "There was a lad was born 
 in Kyle," accompanied by Prof. H. N. Hempsted, who pre- 
 sided during the entire evening at the Grand Pianoforte, and 
 played accompaniments to the numerous songs in a most mas- 
 terly style. 
 
 The President then announced the second regular toast : 
 
 The Queen — God bless her. 
 
 Which was received by the whole company rising to their 
 feet with three times three and one cheer more. 
 
 Mr. John S. Miller then sung the "National Anthem," the 
 entire company still standing, and enthusiastically joining in 
 the chorus. 
 
 The next regular toast in order was — 
 
 The President of the United States. 
 
 This toast again called the whole assemblage to their 
 
16 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 feet, with three times three cheers, followed by the "Star 
 Spangled Banner," led by Mr. Menzies, the company standing 
 and again uniting in the chorus with great effect. This splen- 
 did national song of our adopted country has been seldom sung 
 with more hearty good will. 
 
 The fourth regular toast was then announced by the Pre- 
 sident : 
 
 Ttte Land o' Cakes — Home of Brave Men and Bonnie Lasses. 
 
 Mr. Robert Shiells, of Whitewater, then delivered the 
 following Poem, written for the occasion by invitation of the 
 Committee of Arrangements, which was repeatedly and cordi- 
 ally applauded as the various points came home to the hearts 
 of all present. The allusions to the scenery of our native 
 land, and the deeds of our fathers, roused the tide of Scottish 
 feeling, which boiled over in bursts of delight : 
 
 Keen blows the wind across the heaving lake, 
 
 The snow descends in many a glittering flake ; 
 
 With liasty whefll the graceful skaters glide 
 
 In safety, on the river's frozen tide ; 
 
 The cheerful sleigh-bells tinkle in the street, 
 
 Blythe winter's come again, and here we meet, 
 
 Not only to evince that we revere 
 
 A memory to Scotland ever dear ; 
 
 Not only hail with heartfelt due regard 
 
 The hundredth birthday of our matchless Bard ; 
 
 Vaunt the sweet lyrics which his genius gave, 
 
 And leave a chaplet on his. honored grave ; — 
 
 But we are met, a joyous, friendly band. 
 
 To take each other warmly by the hand. 
 
 Throw trouble to the winds, dischaige dull care — 
 
 Imagine — that we breathe our native air, 
 
 Wander our native glens and hills among, 
 
 Catch the sweet accents of our mountain tongue, 
 
 Pay duteous homage at our Poet's shrine. 
 
 Driuk deeply at the well of "Auld Lang Syne ;" 
 
 Till fancy makes us think that we, in truth, 
 
 Revisit Scotland and renew our youth. 
 
 Dear land ! in which I drew my earliest breath. 
 If aught subdue my love for thee but death ; 
 If cham,'e of clime or fortune should eflace 
 Thine image from my memory's foremost place ; 
 If anything that wealth or fame imparts 
 Should e'er displace thee from my heart ol hearts ; 
 Then be my palsied tongue forever still ! 
 Then let my strong right hand forget its skill ! 
 Mother and Scotland, side by side I set, 
 May God forget me when I them forget ! 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 17 
 
 Our native land ! There's music in the name ; 
 What Scottish heart so dull, what soul so tame, 
 That feels not every pulse thrill with delight. 
 In such a gathering, and on such a night ? 
 Ours is a glorious land beyond compare, 
 Rich in historic lore, — of beauty rare. 
 Alike in peace or war with honor crowned, 
 Famous in history, and in song renowned. 
 Well may her sons, where'er by fortune tost, 
 Cherish their birth-right as a sacred trust. 
 
 Although we find her early records dim, 
 Her history shrouded in the mists of time, 
 Ere Roman legions gazed on Tay's green banks, 
 While " ecce Tiber " echoed through their ranks ; — 
 Enough remains to show, even then she stood, 
 O'ermatched at times, and crushed, but unsubdued ; 
 Her heath with blood was often freely stained. 
 But foreign rule her soil has ne'er profaned ; 
 She never yielded, never crouched a slave. 
 And foes who came for conquest found a grave. 
 The Romans, Danes and Saxons passed away ; 
 The wild Norse Vikings vainly fought for sway ; 
 The grasping Southron strove; time and again, 
 To blot her from the Nations, but in vain. 
 
 Like some stern rock that breasts th' advancing tide. 
 The angry waves may foam on every side, 
 The roaring billows may exert their might, 
 The blinding spray may hide it from our sight ; 
 But when a calm prevails, when storms are fled, 
 Uninjured and erect it rears its head. 
 
 Such was our country's fate for many an age. 
 When war's wild tempest seldom ceased to rage. 
 Often were England's hostile hordes let loose, 
 For slight occasion broke th' uncertain truce, 
 Pour'd on the dear old land a countless host, 
 And fierce marauders swarmed from coast to coast. 
 
 In those rude times, when petty broils were rife. 
 And neighboring clansmen lived in constant strife; 
 Soon would each brawling chief his feud forego, 
 In common hatred to the common foe. 
 Let England's red-cross banner but advance, 
 The highland broad-sword and the borderer's lance. 
 The glittering hauberk and the tartan screen, 
 Fought, side by side, against the Lincoln green. 
 
 But why repeat again the thrice told tale, 
 How wealth and numbers proved of none avail ? 
 Few were our fathers, but their stubborn will. 
 Though oft defeated, was unconquered still. 
 And dire oppression's devastating fires 
 " Scotch'd, but not killed." the spirit of our sires. 
 Till " Wallace wight " rose, in himself a host, 
 His country's saviour and his country's boast. 
 Even yet, his name makes every bosom burn. 
 He paved the way for Bruce and Bannockbara. 
 
18 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 Since tbat eventful day, when Stirling's tower 
 
 Saw good "King Robert" break "proud Edward's power," 
 
 Though Scotland's history be a checquered tale, 
 
 Where vii tory and defeat by turns prevail, 
 
 She ran no further risk of settling down 
 
 A mere appendage to a foreign crown. 
 
 She stood, 'mid all the varying turns of fate, 
 
 An independent, free, and sovereign State. 
 
 Increased in strength, till none dared her molest j 
 
 Ruled her own people as she judged it best. 
 
 Among the nations, more than held her own, 
 
 And placed her monarch on the English throne. 
 
 Nor did the Union with her bitterest foe, 
 
 At once her deep set enmity o'enhrow. 
 
 Long time she held aloof — though poor, was proud — 
 
 And all obtrusive meddling disallowed. 
 
 Guarded with jealous care her self-respect, 
 
 And kept her ancient privileges intact. 
 
 With steadfast loyalty upheld the throne; 
 
 When its opinions tallied with her own ; 
 
 But stubbornly withstood, with all her might, 
 
 Whate'er infringed upon her vested right. 
 
 Opposed King Charlt^s with heroic zeal ; 
 
 But rush'd to arms at his son's appeal, 
 
 And, plunging reckless into hopeless war. 
 
 Pour'd her best blood at Wo'ster and Dunbar. 
 
 We find; in after years, that self-same son, 
 
 Then firmly seated on his father's throne, 
 
 For such devotion made but poor amends — 
 
 Forgot his pledges to his early friends — 
 
 Rewarded their allegiance to his cause. 
 
 With barbarous edicts and oppressive laws. 
 
 But when he sent his vile enactments forth, 
 
 Then rose the ancient spirit of the North. 
 
 Our rugged sires their banner blue unrolled, 
 
 With '' Crown and Covenant " blazoned on its fold — 
 
 Sternly resisted to the very death, 
 
 The least encroachment on their cherished faith. 
 
 Through many a bloody year the fight maintained. 
 
 And masters oj the field at last remained. 
 
 What though no wreath of fame their brows adorn ? 
 What though we often hear them named with scorn, 
 Their candor doubted, and their worth belied, 
 Their motives sneered at, and their deeds decried. 
 Stamped as fanatics, bigoted and rude ? 
 They sealed their testimony with their blood — 
 Preserved their consciences from stain, and when 
 They could not live as freemen, died like men ! 
 
 But when time swept away the Stuart race, 
 And German upstarts filled their honored place ; 
 Then were their vices and their faults forgot— 
 Their former greatness, their unhappy lot, 
 Did a false lustre to their name impart, 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBERT BURNS. 19 
 
 And tended to inflame the nation's heart. 
 Men's better judgment yielded to their zeal, 
 They felt as did the chivalrous Lochiel, 
 Who bluntly told the gallant Chevalier, 
 " The cause is desperate, but you are here, 
 So we will die for you." And how they died, 
 Calloden and Carlisle both testified. 
 
 But endless were the task, since then, to tell 
 Of those who for their country fought and fell ; 
 And Scotland's records mark full many a grave, 
 Where rests the dust of her departed brave. 
 Even while we speak, the Muse of history writes 
 Of Highland bonnets on the Alma's heights. 
 Even now the victor's laurel wreath they twine, 
 For Balaklava and "its thin red line." 
 And on the latest page of Scotland's glory, 
 The dark Redan stands linked with Annie Laurie. 
 
 But not the latest page should I have said, 
 Remember India, and its honored dead ; 
 Its brave defenders, and its gallant chief ; 
 Its tale of Lucknow's peril and relief ; 
 Its deadly jungles, and its burning plains. 
 Who has not felt the hot blood in his veins 
 Boil madly, as in fancy he has marched 
 Across its arid wastes, toilworn and parched, 
 Sweltering along beneath its burning sky, 
 With flagging step, but vengeance in his eye ? 
 Hark ! to the boom of yonder opening gun ' 
 Who feels fatigue ! who minds the scorching sun ? 
 The raitling volley and the wild hurrah. 
 May well inspire the fiercest foe with awe. 
 In vain with headlong speed their flight they urge ; 
 Down, down they go before the bayonet's charge. 
 No mercy there, though hundreds bite the dust ; 
 Remember Cawnpore ! nerves each deadly thrust. 
 
 Since Caesar built the famous Roman wall, 
 Time's changes have been neither few nor small. 
 The barren waste's become a prosperous land, 
 Where thrift and plenty smile on every hand. 
 Th' unlettered people, that their foes contemned, 
 Are now for polished learning w'dely famed. 
 The roving tribes have grown a busy hive. 
 Where commerce, arts and manufactures thrive. 
 
 But looking backwards, through dim. distant years. 
 Where little meets the eye but blood and tears, 
 One ancient trait stands clearly marked and strong. 
 We read of Fingal's deeds in Ossian's song. 
 Though war's shrill trumpet sounded loud and fierce. 
 The nation's bursting heart welled out in verse. 
 From sire to son our Northern harp was passed. 
 And still the sweetest Poet seemed the last ; 
 Until the Bard arose, whose cherished name 
 We hail to night with earnest, loud acclaim. 
 
20 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 He showed the power of song. His witching art 
 
 Not only soothes the ear, but fills the heart, 
 
 'Mong the poetic race he stands alone, _ 
 
 For varied powers, which yet are all his own._ 
 
 No formal rules constrain his "wood notes wild ;" 
 
 Gay or pathetic, he is Nature's child. 
 
 No borrowed grace he ever stoops to use ; 
 
 His is in very truth a Scottish Muse. 
 
 As natural to Scotland are his lays, , 
 
 As is the heather blooming on her braes. 
 
 What wonder then, though Scotland's voice proclaim 
 
 The pride she feels in his undying fame ? 
 
 What wonder that with pride we swell the throng, 
 
 That celebrates this day with feast and song ? 
 
 What wonder that with pride each bosom bums, 
 
 As here we meet— the countrymen of BURNS ? 
 
 My "Native Highland Home" was then sung by the 
 Quartette, Messrs. Menzies, Hislop, Millar and Porteous. 
 
 The President said he would interrupt the regular order of 
 the proceedings by reading a despatch from New York, con- 
 taining a sentiment, just received, which was to be read all 
 over America where the occasion was being observed, at 12 
 o'clock, it being about that hour in New York now : 
 
 AsTOR House, New York, Jan. 25, 1859. 
 
 To the Burns' Oluh of Milwaukee from the Burns' Club of 
 New York: 
 
 We have selected the following toast and sentiment to be 
 drank all over America, where this occasion is being observed, 
 at 12 o'clock to-night : 
 
 Kindred Associations throughout the World — May they preserve the 
 songs, and disseminate the sentiments of BuENS, till man to man the world 
 o'er " shall brithers be and a' that." 
 
 Vair Clirehugh, Cor. Sec'y. 
 
 The next regular toast was — 
 
 America — Worthy child of worthy sires; we are proud of her success 
 and glory in her progress. 
 
 This called out Judge Hubbell, who responded in his al- 
 ways felicitous manner : 
 
 Indeed, Mr. Chairman, I may say with Counsellor Phil- 
 lips, "the very mention of America never fails to fill me with 
 the most lively emotions." Sir, I was born here ; my sire and 
 my sire's sire drew their first breath in this land, toward the 
 setting sun. They were partakers of its follies and adven- 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF KOBEKT BUENS. 21 
 
 tures, its toils and progress, its patriotism and poverty, its 
 liberty and glory. They have an inheritable interest in its 
 large estate of institutions and notions. They have a birth 
 right to sit under the national tree, as under a vine of their 
 own planting. 
 
 I thank this generous assembly for mentioning my name 
 in connection with a toast to "America," for if any here is 
 entitled to boast of whatever is properly American, " I 
 more." But, sir, there is nothing to boast of. The only 
 national characteristic of which America has reason to be 
 proud is, that she always " dares to try." That has made 
 her what she is, and will make her whatever man can be. 
 It has been the ruling star of her destiny. Columbus tried 
 to discover a new world, and he discovered it. The Pilgrim 
 Fathers tried to find a home where they could worship God 
 in their own way, and they found it. The patriots of the 
 Revolution tried to establish a government, of the people and 
 for the people, and they established it. [Great cheering.] 
 
 Heaven, in mercy, gave to man this Western Continent, 
 its pure air, its productive soil, its magnificent rivers, lakes, 
 mountains and wildernesses, that hfi might try to lift up the 
 whole human family ; and he has lifted up this portion of 
 the family, high on the hills of science, of art, of practical 
 freedom, of unrivalled prosperity, and resistless progress, 
 until we hear the distant voices of the nations, far down in 
 the vallies below, calling to us for a helping hand, to lift 
 them up to our American level. Sir, there is a magnet- 
 ism in this Continent of ours. This daring to try rules over 
 the Western Hemisphere, like the wing of a mighty destiny — 
 " manifest destiny," if you please — bearing man onward, 
 ever onward, with the sun. [Applause.] It will know no 
 pause, no abatement, until it shall have carried the American 
 name, and race, and language, and institutions, all round the 
 globe, belting the earth with freedom and intelligence, in 
 place of its ancient, " legitimate " zone of ignorance and 
 bondage. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, some words carry with them an insepara- 
 ble charm, of varied and sublime associations. Glancing 
 over the names, familiar to us as household words, I pro- 
 nounce the word " Mississippi." It is but a river ; yet 
 who does not catch, in his mind's eye, the far away snows 
 of the Rocky Mountains, melting down their foaming path ; 
 the limpid, laughing waters of the hundred lakes of Minne- 
 sota ; the highland streams of our own Wisconsin ; the out- 
 gushing springs of New York and Pennsylvania, leaping 
 
22 CENTENNIAL ANNITBRSART 01" 
 
 through the rocky fastnesses of the AUeghanies — all kindred 
 waters, obedient to a common destiny, rushing, sweeping, 
 foaming onward to the great valley, where the Father of 
 Waters pours his quiet but resistless tide to the ocean. 
 
 So, when I speak of the "American people," you shall 
 see the fountains of the nations breaking up ; the Celtic and 
 Sclavonic, the Germanic and Gallic, the Norman and Dane, 
 the noble Gtelic and glorious Anglo-Saxon, each pouring 
 out their kindred streams, their moving and resistless human 
 currents, and bearing, by a common destiny, into this great 
 trans-Atlantic basin, the mingled tides of civilization and 
 liberty, glory and power. [Cheers.] 
 
 What a peerless nationality has the American people. 
 Kindred spirits of all climes, men of whom the old world 
 was not worthy, coming hither have united and fraternized 
 with the sons of the soil, in establishing Time's last and 
 noblest Empire. And permit me, Mr. Chairman, to allude 
 to the fact that this gathering to-night, affords the most happy 
 and striking illustration of that mingling of races, which 
 has enriched the blood, indurated the muscle, and magnetized 
 the nerve of this American people, making it the just pride, 
 as it is the sole hope, of the friends of freedom and humanity. 
 Nor can I conclude without alluding to the fact that the noble 
 purpose of this meeting shows that, though your homes, your 
 fortunes and your hopes, are in this, your adopted country, 
 your memories and your hearts are still among the banks 
 and braes and hills of Caledonia. 
 
 At the conclusion, amid great applause, the Judge gave 
 this capital and appropriate toast : 
 
 Scotland — Her inoimtaitiH are the hiding jilaces of pntriotism and valor, 
 her cities and villagen are the home of industry and thought ; and her 
 lowliest hut is the birth place of immortal genius. 
 
 Here "The Flag of our Union " was admirably sung by 
 Mr. R. Menzies, and never did our glorious banner float more 
 triumphantly on the wings of melody. 
 
 Mr. David Johnston, of Waukesha, was then called to 
 the rostrum, and recited, in inimitable style and with great 
 dramatic effect, that most wonderful production of the great 
 Poet's fancy, "Tarn o' Shanter." The roars of laughter 
 with which it was received testified not only to the merit of 
 the delivery, but to the appreciation and delight of all present. 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBEBT BURNS. 23 
 
 The next regular toast was then given by the President : 
 
 The Moral' Independence and acknowledged Intelligence of Scotchmen as 
 evinced in the past — May we emulate our ancestors in the present and 
 future. 
 
 To which Mr. William Graham responded in the following 
 eloquent speech : 
 
 Mr. President — At the close of the sixteenth century, our 
 country was, in a great degree, insensible to its moral inde- 
 dence. The men who repelled the Roman invaders, and 
 fought upon the fields of Luncarty, Falkirk and Bannock- 
 burn, lost sight of the glorious principles which they received 
 from our Culdee Fathers, and sunk into a state of compara- 
 tive barbarism. In the midst of this darkness, a man arose 
 who was the means of arousing his countrymen to a sense of 
 their privileges and duty. When we looked upon his frame, 
 it was thought that his physical powers would not carry him 
 through the scenes of difficulty which he was called upon to 
 encounter. But his frame, though small, was firmly knit 
 together, and when his eye was looked upon, it indicated 
 that piercing power and intelligence which would prove of 
 either great good or evil to his countrymen, when he com- 
 menced his mission. He entered the Palace of the Queen, 
 and clearly indicated to her that she had duties to perform to 
 her subjects, which she could not evade, and if these were set 
 aside, the throne would totter to its foundation. Her smiles, 
 her tears, her blandishments, had no effect upon this disin- 
 terested and fearless man. He went into the assembly of 
 the nobles, and proclaimed that his countrymen were no 
 longer to be treated as serfs, and looked upon as contingencies 
 of the soil. He went to the priestly power, and distinctly 
 told them they must leave the gorgeous palaces in which 
 they had secluded themselves, and go forth, through the 
 length and breadth of the land, and inculcate on their coun- 
 trymen the lessons of religion and morality, and he then 
 turned to his countrymen, traveling far and wide, and taught 
 them that they were responsible beings, and that they could 
 not set aside the duties which they owed to themselves and 
 children, unless they made every etfort to emerge from the 
 gloom which surrounded them. And the result of the un- 
 tiring labors of this noble man was, that he laid the founda- 
 tion of our moral independence far and wide, and now bear- 
 ing fruits in this present day ; and when he was called to 
 that " bourne from whence no traveler returns," and laid in 
 his narrow home, the representative of the truckling poli- 
 tician, in the person of the Regent Morton, pronounced his 
 
24 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 short but brief epitaph — "There lies John Knox, the man 
 who never feared the face of man." [Applause.] 
 
 At a later period our country sank again, though not to 
 the same extent. The principles of our moral independence 
 were manfully upheld by our standard bearer, Henderson. 
 And what a glorious thought it is to some of us to think 
 that this eloquent man, after placing his country, through 
 his labors, in a lofty position in the moral world, was called 
 to the sister country to consult with the Owens. Baxters, 
 Hampdens and Miltons, and successfully labored for the 
 principles of Knox. The results were that the descendants 
 of these immortal men, when they could find no rest in their 
 native land for their liberties, they transferred themselves, 
 and ultimately landed on Plymouth Rock, and laid down the 
 principles of moral independence, which I trust will be the 
 leading star of the many millions of this extensive country. 
 I, therefore, claim that Knox and his compeers were the origi- 
 nal founders of American liberty as developed in the Puritan 
 Fathers. It may be said now that we are the degenerated 
 sons of noble sires, but evidence goes all to prove the con- 
 trary. The Erskines and Gillespies, in the close of the last 
 century, gloriously upheld our moral independence, and it 
 reached its culminating point in the disruption of 1843. 
 
 It has been said that we are a penurious race, loving money 
 rather than principles. The reverse is the case. Look at 
 this memorable event. On the one side stood Peel with all 
 his sagacity, the historical Russell, and the astute Graham, 
 with his great administrative powers. On the other side 
 stood the representative of religion and philanthropy, in the 
 person of Chalmers ; the worthy successor of Newton, in the 
 person of Brewster; the sincere and unaffected piety and learn- 
 ing, in the person of Robert Gorpon. The political power 
 say to these men, that we will not consent to your principles 
 and that the people have no right to elect their ministers, 
 but that the power wholly belongs to the State. They 
 replied, that in no case could any man be intruded upon an 
 unwilling people, and that rather than sacrifice the moral 
 independence of their countrymen, they would leave all their 
 privileges and immunities which the State conferred. The 
 politicians sneered at the idea, thinking only some of the 
 leaders would come out. But when the time of trial came, 
 470 ministers left the assembly and church of their fathers, 
 and the welcome voices of 700,000 Scotchmen endorsed the 
 position of these disinterested and worthy men. And thus 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 25 
 
 they proved themselves worthy successors of Knox, Melville 
 and Henderson. 
 
 But what did they leave ? Truly they left their comforta- 
 ble homes and incomes secured to them for life, from three 
 to five thousand dollars per annum, and threw themselves 
 upon the generosity of their countrymen, and this clearly 
 shows that when our moral independence is in the balance, 
 that the sword, the fire and the faggot, or the gold of earth 
 will not influence Scotchmen in maintaining their moral in- 
 dependence. It has been said that we are an egotistical racet 
 and that we cannot admire this principle in others, and that 
 we cannot understand the genius and spirit which regulate 
 this continent. Why ! we endorse the sentiments of our coun- 
 tryman Patrick Henry. When the stamp act was under 
 discussion, and when the men of the old Dominion were 
 beginning to lose their love of liberty, he made the old walls 
 ring with his oratory and waked the, spirit of the ancient 
 Puritans. He said Cesar had his Brutus, Charles I. his 
 Oliver Cromwell, and George III. would have his. Loud 
 cries of treason resounded, but, in the language of his an- 
 cestors, he said, if that is treason make the most of it. We 
 admire the moral independence of the philosophic and scien- 
 tific Franklin, when he went to the mother country as the 
 accredited agent of the Colony of Massachusetts, demanding 
 a r6dress of grievances and that their rights should be con- 
 ceded ; and in presenting this celebrated document to the 
 Privy Council of the day, and answering its statements and 
 arguments in a clear and dispassionate manner. They set 
 the fiery and impetuous Wedderburn, their Solicitor Gen- 
 eral, to vituperate the personal character of this excellent 
 man, and as it is recorded to honor — he uttered not a word, 
 but left for his humble home — and in putting off the spotted 
 Manchester velvet dress — said that he would wear a new garb 
 when he returned as Representative of a free country. 
 
 We admire the moral independence of Washington, the 
 father of his country — when at the close of his second Presi- 
 dential term, he was pressed by the large and influential, 
 now called democratic party, under the leadership of Jeffer- 
 son, the federalist party led by Hamilton, and outside by 
 the partisans of France, to enter upon a war with Britain 
 to uphold the Jacobins of that country. He would listen 
 to none of their representations, but concluded an honorable 
 peace with that country. He was no truckling politician, or 
 man of the hour. He loved his country for the struggles 
 that it made for liberty, but he was not prepared to support 
 
26 CENTENNIAL ANNITERSARY OF 
 
 a class of men who would ba he their principles in the blood 
 of thot>e near and dear to them, who chose to differ from 
 them in opinion. We tell Americans that we will at all 
 times faithfully carry out the -aws of the Federal and State 
 Governments, if bad we shall use all our power to have 
 them repealed, and shall uphold an upright, a wise and a 
 prudent judiciary, and love civil and religious liberty in its 
 widest sense. We shall ever be opposed to any party or 
 class of men who shall infringe upon the rights of others. 
 We shall uphold the sacred rights of property, and will be 
 opposed to sectionalism, disunionism, anarchy, confusion 
 and bloodshed. And, as citizens of, our adopted country, 
 we shall endeavor to follow in the footseps and genius of our 
 Scottish Bard, who was so noble an example of that senti- 
 ment he so much admired, " an honest man's the noblest work 
 of Ood." 
 
 Song, "A Man's a Man for a' That," rendered in fine style 
 by Mr. Thomas Hislop, the whole audience joining in on the 
 chorus, and causing the ^oom to ring again. 
 
 Next regular toast — 
 
 Scottish Literature — The rank wJiich it holds has been fixed by histori- 
 ans like Robertson^ Hume and Alison ; by philosophers like Reid, Ste2v- 
 art and Hair) il ton ; by scholars like Murray, Ley den and Blackie ; by 
 eihayists like Jeffrey, Mcintosh and Carlyle : by novelists like Smollet, 
 Scott and Gait; by men of science like jPlayfair, Brewster and Millar ; 
 by theolegians like Knox, Chalmers and Guthrie ; by universal geniuses 
 like Buchanan, Brougham and Wilson; and by poets bright and numer- 
 ous as the stars in the blue vault above. 
 
 Mr. James McAlister, a young Scot of fine abilities and 
 
 acquirements, was called upon to speak to the foregoing, which 
 
 he did in the following strain of eloqvience. At the close of 
 
 his remarks, the Croupier called for three cheers for Young 
 
 Scotland and its eloquent orator who had just delighted them, 
 
 which were given with deafening plaudits : 
 
 Mr. President — I rise with a considerable degree of diffi- 
 dence on this occasion. Unaccustomed as I am to address- 
 ing public assemblies of any kind, I feel doubly embarrassed 
 in coming after the eloquent gentlemen who have preceded 
 me. Moreover, the sentiment to which I have been called 
 upon to respond, requires an amount of scholarship which I 
 do not possess ; so that altogether I feel as much out of place 
 as I possibly could under any circumstances that can be well 
 imagined. But I did not feel at liberty to refuse the honor- 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBERT BURNS. 27 
 
 able invitation of the committee. I was anxious to throw 
 in my mite to the enjoyment of the great occasion which 
 has called us together, and I felt, however poorly qualified, 
 I could not find a better chance for this purpose than the 
 opportunity presented by the toast which has just been read 
 in your hearing. 
 
 Like every true Scotchman, I must believe Scotland to be 
 great in everything. [Laughter] But honestly, I think 
 there is no exaggeration in claiming for her Xiiterature a 
 place as high as that of any nation in ancient or modern 
 times. The names of her sons are familiar to the dwellers 
 ill every civilized land, and will be for evermore. Her songs 
 are sung on the shores of the Pacific and Indian oceans. 
 Her romances are familiarly known in every log cabin of 
 our backwoods, as well as in the palaces of Europe, and are 
 household words in Australia and New Zealand. Her his- 
 tories are pondered, her criticism is watched wherever civili- 
 zation and the English language have found their way. Her 
 science is authoritative in the highest schools. Her philoso- 
 phy still holds its place in spite of new and splendid lights 
 in the dim regions of metaphysical speculation. I believe, 
 sir, that her literary men will bear comparison with the 
 greatest names of any age or country — always excepting, of 
 course, the few master minds which belong to no country, 
 but are the common heritage of the world ; and I hold that 
 no Scotchman need ever be afraid to make ihe trial. Let 
 some wise old Greek come from his grave on the shores of 
 the beautiful ^Egean, and read the list of writers who have 
 given to the land of Homer the proudest place in the history 
 of nations that are no more. Let some Roman rhetorician 
 start from the dust of the seven hills and call the roll of her 
 Virgils, her Ciceros and her Tacituses. Let Italy and Spain 
 each send their herald to proclaim the names which they 
 glory in more than their proudest achievements in camp or 
 court. Let France send her finest critic to read the list of 
 her greatest Academicians. Let some German, who has taken 
 into his brain the learning of all the ages, write the names 
 of those men who have given to Germany the sceptre of the 
 intellectual world, and made her the nursery of scholars. 
 Let England send one of her truest sons to proclaim the long 
 list of names which grace the pages of her history. Let 
 America, the youngest member of the Republic of Letters, 
 tell the names which have silenced the sneers of the old 
 world, and given to her, young as she is, an original and 
 splendid Literature. And when they have all done, I will 
 
28 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 read this toast and challenge the world to award to the names 
 which it enumerates, a place by the side of the greatest 
 which have been mentioned by the representatives of these 
 several countries. [Great applause.] • 
 
 It would be interesting, in support of this position, to 
 trace the origin and progress of Scottish letters. To begin 
 away back in the middle ages, when her poets were wander- 
 ing minstrels, who strung their wild mountain harps some- 
 times in martial strains, which stirred the warlike clans to 
 deeds of bravery, and again to songs of love and duty, in 
 honor of some "lady fair" or valorous chief; and for 
 philosophers she had the illustrious Duns Scotos, the great- 
 est scholar of his day, and who wrote enough in his brief 
 life time to set up a score of German professors, and a hun- 
 dred or two of modern D.Ds. [Laughter.] Passing along 
 the stream ot time, we would meet with the names of John 
 Barbour, James I, William Dunbar, (a poet, says Sir Wal- 
 ter Scott, unrivalled by any that Scotland has ever pro- 
 duced,) Sir David Lyndsey, George Buchanan, the royal 
 bard Jambs VI, William Drummond the friend of Shaks- 
 peare and Ben Johnson, and many other great and worthy 
 names in all departments of literature. And then, coming 
 down to still later times, we should arrive at the period when 
 Scotland, although no longer wearing the crown of the 
 Bruges, sat enthroned in the universal empire of mind. 
 Greece had her Alexanderian age, Rome her Augustan, 
 and England her Elizabethian ; and although I have no 
 proud name by which to designate the period when Scotland 
 reigned supreme in the world of Literature, yet she had such 
 a period, which sparkles with a lustre as bright and enduring 
 as that which shines across the centuries from any of those 
 glorious eras. [Cheers.] But I need go no farther on this 
 topic. Indeed, sir, I might have let the toast go without 
 any remarks of mine ; it is a speech of itself, and says about 
 as much as needs to be said on tho subject. It presents an 
 array of names in every department of human culture, which 
 will yield precedence to no others that can be produced. In 
 history, we have the classic Robertson and entertaining 
 Hume. In philosophy, Reid, with his common-sense doc- 
 trines, and Hamilton, with his splendid endowments and 
 unequalled learning. In science, the elegant Playfair, and 
 accomplished Brewster, and so on through the entire range 
 of literature. Then what single names there are mentioned 
 here! There is George Buchanan, that "maist lerned, 
 wyse and godlie man," to use the language of his friend 
 
THE BIRTHDAX OF ROBERT BURNS. 29 
 
 James Melville, and who was as celebrated for his wit and 
 manly independence of character as for his scholarship. 
 There is John Knox, who not only wrote theology, but lived 
 religion, according to that rule which was inscribed above 
 the door of his house in Edinburgh — 
 
 LUFE . GOD . ABOVE . ALL . AND . YOUR . UICHBOR . AS . TOURSELF. 
 
 There is Jeffrey, the prince of critics ; Scott, whose name 
 is, perhaps, the next best known in the world to Shaks- 
 peare's ; Chalmers, the modern Chrysostom ; and Hugh 
 Millar, who left the stone quarry at Cromarty to become 
 the first geologist, and one of the best English writers of 
 his day. [Applause.] 
 
 There, too, is Brougham, the Nestor of the British Senate, 
 and the most versatile mind of his time, producing, at four 
 score years of age, an oration on Sir Isaac Newton which 
 few men in all the strength and fullness of their powers 
 could equal. There is Carlyle, that incarnation of the very 
 genius of Scotland, and who probably now stands at the 
 head of the cultus of our age. And then, sir, there is John 
 Wilson — Christopher North — glorious Kit North ! [Great 
 applause.] What shall I say of him ? Of him who was 
 at once, poet, professor, editor, philosopher, wit, critic, ora- 
 tor, and alike great in all ! How can I speak of that splen- 
 did genius which was equally at home in the broadest humor, 
 the most terrible pathos, the sweetest tenderness, or the sub- 
 limest flights of fancy ? What shall I say of the largeness 
 of his heart, the noble qualities of his soul, the overwhelm- 
 ing grandeur of his eloquence ? I confess myself inadequate 
 to the task, and stand silent, awe-struck, in his presence, 
 like the reverent soul before the sublime majosty of the Alps. 
 
 And last of all on this roll are the poets — to use the some- 
 what poetical language of the toast — " bright and numerous 
 as the stars in the blue vault above." The poets of Scotland 
 are her dearest treasure and her highest pride. I will venture 
 to say that the songs of Scotland are more widely known, 
 and have a stronger hold upon the heart than the poetry of 
 any other land ; and I believe that when the sublime epic of 
 Milton, and the gloomy cantos of the great Tuscan have 
 been forgotten, such simple strains as " Scots Wha Hae," 
 " Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon," and " Highland 
 Mary," will be cherished with a fondness that knows no 
 change. [Cheers,] The poetry of Scotland is genuine. It 
 is the reflex of the deepest emotions and noblest aspirations 
 of human nature. It has all the freedom of the hills and 
 the beauty of the vales which inspired it. It is the kind of 
 
30 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 poetry which the world loves, which supersedes the action 
 of laws, and imbues a people with the sentiments of love, 
 truth, and duty which it inculcates. 
 
 Of Him, the greatest of them all, who first saw the light 
 one hundred years ago this evening, and whose memory we 
 have come together to celebrate on this occasion, it is need- 
 less that 1 should say anything. That has been so well done 
 already, that any words of mine would only tend to mar the 
 impression which the eloquent speech of Judge McArthur 
 has left upon your minds. 
 
 If time and the occasion permitted, I would like to speak 
 more at length on this subject. [Loud cries of " go on."] 
 I would like to say something of the activity of Scottish let- 
 ters in our own day, of the vigorous manner in which she 
 still sustains her claim to the highest rank in all the walks 
 of science and literature. I would like to enlarge on the 
 general characteristics of Scottish Literature — its broad, lib- 
 eral, and healthful spirit ; its democratic teadencies ; its 
 high moral and religious tone ; its truthfulness to the noblest 
 aspirations of the soul and the deepest and finest feelings of 
 the heart. But I will not weary yeur patience by speaking 
 of these inviting topics now. I trust enough has been said 
 to show the high character and worth of Scottish Literature. 
 1 believe, sir, that this is incalculably great, and that the 
 noblest legacy which Scotland has bequeathed to the world 
 is her Literature. I do not forget the heroes who have fought 
 for her liberties, the noble army of martyrs who have died 
 for her religion. But, after all, thoughts and ideas, are the 
 only realities which survive the decay of nations, and the 
 fluctuations of time. I believe that the Literature of Scot- 
 land has that in it which will not let it die. [Applause.] 
 When the lofty Ben Lomond no longer glasses itself in the 
 placid Loch below ; when the hill of Dumbarton no longer 
 stands frowning above the clear waters of the Clyde ; when 
 the silvery Tweed no longer :1 ws onward to the sea, the 
 names of these men will flourisii in all the freshness of their 
 original fame. 
 
 Yea, sir, so long as the human heart beats responsive to 
 what is noble and beautiful in sentiment; so long as the 
 student wrestles with the great mysteries of nature and the 
 soul ; so long as genius is loved and honored in the world, 
 so long will the poets, and philosophers, and savans of Scot- 
 land live in the memory of man. [Great cheering.] 
 
 The President then announced the next toast : 
 Scotch Mechanics — Who are they ? Where are they ? 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BORNS. 
 
 31 
 
 Responded to by Mr. Gteorge CoiTsland, of Prairie du 
 Chien, a fine representative of the Scotch mechanic, whose 
 speech displayed great scholarly research, and was attentively 
 listened tt> throughout : 
 
 Mr. Chairman — Nations, no less than individuals, have 
 duties to perform arising out of the fact of their existence. 
 An individual who is guarded and benefitted by the structure 
 of society, owes, in return, a duty of usefulness and recitude. 
 When he attempts to live a merely selfish life, pursuing a 
 course, regardless of the interests of his neighbors, and seek- 
 ing only personal gratification, he has but slender claims to 
 the protection or respect of the' community. 
 
 Nations have a similar but more extended accountability. 
 Protected by international law, and benefitted in many ways 
 by the learning, the philosophy, the arts and the sciences of 
 other countries, they incur a debt which ought to be dis- 
 charged by some contributions to the general good, progress 
 and welfare of humanity. [Applause.] 
 
 The addresses of the gentlemen who have preceded me, 
 have shown how nobly Scotland, " our auld, respected 
 mither," has performed this duty. What bright examples, 
 for admiration and imitation, she has presented to other 
 nations — of heroes, martyrs and patriots. How the light of 
 her science and philosophy, beaming far beyond her narrow 
 bounds, has illuminated all lands. How the charms of her 
 literature, the grace and vigor of her prose writers, the genius 
 and beauty of her poets, and the pathos and tenderness of 
 her sons of song, have cheered and blessed the world. [Loud 
 cheering.] 
 
 In all the departments of thought she has done nobly and 
 well ; but, in this age of natural development and progress, 
 she might be considered lacking in some of the most useful 
 elements of character, if she could not number among her 
 sons, some who had achieved renown in these departments 
 of enterprise. A nation that would occupy a front rank, 
 must produce workers, no less than thinkers, or, better still, 
 those who combine both thought and action, and are the in- 
 ventors, the pioneers of improvement. The country which 
 produced James Watt, has no reason to shrink from com- 
 parison, in this respect, with the proudest of her peers. The 
 steam engine which his genius devised, and his mechanical 
 skill elaborated, is the starting point of the world's modern 
 progress. There is no department of industry which, it has 
 not revolutionized and improved, and no class of society in 
 
32 
 
 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 the civilized world it has not benefited. To it, literature 
 owes much of its influence, and the press much of its power. 
 It has exalted to a wonderful superiority, those nations that 
 have most extensively availed themselves of its services, and 
 had our native country never conferred any other benefit on 
 mankind. Watt's engine would entitle her to the respect and 
 the gratitude of the world. [Applause.] 
 
 Henry Bell is another Scotch mechanic who has strong 
 claims to a world-wide reputation. He may well contest 
 with FoLTON the honor of applying steam to navigation. A 
 steamboat which he constructed made some experimental 
 trips on the Forth and Clyde Canal, years before the •* Cler- 
 mont" was launched upon the waters of the Hudson. Fulton 
 not only corresponded with Bell upon the subject, but visited 
 him, and inspected his work. 
 
 An American eulogist of Fdlton allows that he possessed 
 the great advantages of European experience, and of British 
 machinery, but forgets to add another important advantage, 
 the examination of a Scotch steamboat, which had proved 
 partially successful. Evenif Fulton be admitted to have 
 first applied steam power to river navigation, to Bell, indis- 
 putably, belongs the individual honor of a more difficult 
 achievement — its adaptation to sea voyages. However highly 
 we may value the steamboat and its contrivers, or even the 
 more wonderful invention of the locomotive, we must never 
 forget that they are but applications of a previously organ- 
 ized force, only corrollaries naturally flowing from that 
 mighty problem, which the genius of Watt had demon- 
 strated. With a kind of poetic justice, but rare in real life, 
 the manufacture of the steam engine appears yet best to 
 thrive in its native city, under the nursing care of the 
 "Glasgow chappies;" and the most successful of ocean 
 steamers are those that are launched from the banks of their 
 native Clyde, and bound, in their proud course, to the scene 
 of their future triumphs, down the romantic river, whence 
 their first prototype, the " Comet," timidly advanced to meet 
 the untried danT"^-<^ of the sea. [Cheers.] 
 
 Did time pern \, .. e might speak of Ramage, who improved 
 the printing press ; of Bain, the inventor of the electric 
 clock, and of many others of our " brither Scots," who have 
 been distinguished as mechanical inventors. Scotch me- 
 chanics, as a class, do not excel in the merely ornamental 
 branches of manufacture. They lack that frivolity of dis- 
 position which seems necessary to the production of elegant 
 trifles, and the prosecution of the more fanciful departments 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBEBT BURNS. 33 
 
 of the arts. Possessing an eminently practical character, 
 they aifect the more sturdy and useful occupations. In all 
 the departments of building they are justly distinguished 
 for skill and abilty. In the foundry, and at the forge — in 
 the factory — and at the loom, they toil with an assiduity and 
 s\icces8 which both merits and receives esteem. Especially 
 are they noted for excellence in all that pertains to the manu- 
 facture and management of machinery and the steam engine. 
 The ocean steamship, traversing every sea, owes much of its 
 success to Scotch mechanics, not only as its inventors, but 
 also for the skill and intelligence they display in its con- 
 struction and improvement. 
 
 Thanks to our Scotch system of public schools, her me- 
 chanics all possess the rudiments of a good education; and the 
 opportunities for self-improvement, so liberally encouraged 
 in the old country, are by no class more highly esteemed or 
 more assiduously employed, than by tbe young mechanics. 
 The long apprenticeship they serve affords an opportunity 
 for thoroughly mastering the principles and details of their 
 craft, and it is not too much to say that, in general, a Scotch 
 mechanic is synonomous with a skilled and intelligent work- 
 man. [Loud and prolonged applause.] 
 
 Nor are instances rare in which Scotch mechanics have 
 distinguished themselves in the walks of science and litera- 
 ture. Need i recall the memory of the late lamented stone 
 mason of Cromarty — one of the most illustrious of our 
 countrymen. Though his " Schools and Schoolmasters " 
 were the rough experiences of life and his own sturdy intel- 
 lect, yet the most educated minds, trained in distinguished 
 universities, and professors in celebrated colleges, were glad 
 to learn, at the feet of the self-educated mechanic, the siiblime 
 readings of Geology. We might speak of Wilson, the 
 Ornithologist, whose valuable work on that interesting study 
 has earned him an enviable fame on both sides of the Atlantic. 
 We might refer to the blacksmith missionary, Moffat, 
 whose story of African life is such a valuable addition to 
 our knowledge of that continent. Or better still, we might 
 speak of his son-in-law. Dr. Livingstone, the Lanark cotton 
 spinner, whose perseverance and indomitable energy have 
 almost dissipated the mystery of interior Africa. 
 
 Of their achievements in the walks of imaginative litera- 
 ture, we might instance the songs of Tannahill, of Rodgers, 
 and the poems of Thom of Inverury, all "wabsters guid," 
 as well as poets ; and may we not, with great aptness, refer 
 to the poem which has so delighted us this evening, as a 
 
34 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 goodly specimen of the abilities of a Scotch mechanic. [Ap- 
 plause.] 
 
 The acquisition of wealth and positions of influence, 
 though they may not indicate the best kind of success, are 
 still highly creditable to those, who, by industry and intel- 
 ligence, have attained them, and not a few of our Scotch me- 
 chanics have been highly favored of fortune. Sir Peter 
 Pairbairn, present Mayor of Leeds, and late host of Queen 
 Victoria, was a Hawick factory boy, and owes his present 
 dignity to his own unaided efforts. Sir Peter Laurie was 
 a fellow craftsman, and almost a fellow townsman, of my 
 own, and by diligence and ability, rose from the work-bench 
 to the Chief Magistracy of the world's metropolis. Born 
 of " poor but honest parents," as his biography will say, 
 when it comes to be written, but " raised from the dregs of 
 society," as he once unfortunately expressed it. I have often 
 heard people speak of Peter Laurie when he was a " lang- 
 legged laddie," not exactly as the rhyme says, "gaen wantin' 
 th' breeks," — [laughter] — as he was raised in a section of the 
 country where the manes of fashion demanded the sacrifice 
 of corduroys — but without any gorgeous or superfluous ap- 
 parel. After he went to London, he used to astonish his 
 shopmates by mounting his high stool, and announcing that 
 lije would bo Lord Mayor yet. Soon a circumstance occurred 
 which did not promise very well for the fulfilment of his 
 prediction. Being at the theater one night, he was much 
 struck with the death scene in " Richard III.," and the next 
 day was entertainmg his 'fellow workmen with a rehearsal of 
 the act on the shop floor. When he had gone through all the 
 agonies, and lay in the impassiveness ■ f death, his employer 
 entered the shop. Perceiving at a glance the posture of af- 
 fairs, and having no soul for the heroics, he recalled the 
 incipient Lord Mayor and the dead hero of Bosworth field 
 back to life, by shoutin ■ , " Pack your kit and walk ; I want 
 no dead men in my shop." [Laughter.] Stung to the quick 
 by this disgraceful dismissal, Peter eschewed private thea- 
 tricals, prosecuted his trade with increased diligence, resolved 
 to prove himself a true prophet, and prepared to act in public 
 the old English drama of " Dick Whittington." Progres- 
 sing from the grub of a Common Councilman, to the chry- 
 salis of an Alderman, he at last emerged as a gorgeous but- 
 terfly in all the dignity and trappings of the Lord Mayor. 
 And on a dull November day, in a grand coach, attended by 
 men in armor, and all the pageantry of a civic procession, the 
 Scotch saddler, like a second Whittington, was conveyed to 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 35 
 
 the city palace amid the applause of the populace. [Cheers.] 
 How he was knighted by royalty ; how he feasted grand 
 ministers of State, and entertained ambassadors of foreign 
 powers ; and how, in Guild Hall, he dispensed hospitality 
 and turtle soup to*the rich, and good advice and the House 
 of Correction to the poor. Behold, are they not all written 
 in the book of the chronicles of the civic kings of London ? 
 Let me add, as a deserved tribute of respect, that he was 
 ever mindful of his less successful relatives. Of my own 
 knowledge, I can testify that his liberality cheered the de- 
 clining years of more than one of them, to whom fortune 
 had been more sparing in the distribution of her gifts. 
 
 Thus, imperfectly, Mr. Chairman, have I attempted to 
 speak of Scotch mechanics. Who are they ? But I would 
 fain hope that I have at least said enough to prove them 
 entirely worthy of your esteem, and of the enthnsiasm with 
 which they have been toasted this evening. 
 
 Scotch mechanics — where are they ? is a question still 
 more difficult to answer. Ask rather — where are they not ? 
 [Applause,] We have seen that some of them have in- 
 scribed their names high in the gratitude of tne world ; some 
 are enroled in the service of science and and philosophy ; 
 some in the train of poetry and song ; and some occupying 
 high and honorable positions in society, as the reward of 
 their probity and enterprise. In the four quarters of the 
 globe, they are perhaps not unevenly distributed, and have 
 everywhere an enviable reputation for industry and intelli- 
 gence. Devoted to the more useful arts, they are everywhere 
 a benefit to the country in which they live, and everywhere 
 enjoy, as without egotism I may say, they deserve the respect 
 and confidence of the community. [Applause.] 
 
 But, wherever they are, whether in the higher circles of 
 society, or discharging honorably the duties of more humble 
 spheres ; whether in the forests of Canada, or on the prairies 
 of Wisconsin ; whether in the deserts of Africa, or by the 
 mighty rivers of our southern continent ; whether in India, 
 Australia, New Zealand, or the Islands of the Sea, they are 
 ever loyal to Scotland, ever proud of her renown, and ever 
 jealous of her honor. [Applause.] 
 
 Though they may live under more genial skies, and in the 
 midst of fertility and luxuriance, they still cherish, fondly 
 in the innermost recesses of their hearts, the remembrance of 
 a land which, to them, is gilded with sunny memories, and 
 gladdened by pleasant recollections — 
 
 Barer ! fairer ! finer far ! 
 
36 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 than any other region under heaven. They ever turn to the 
 home of their early youth with fond affection, as the devout 
 Israelite to Mount Zion, and are ever ready to adopt the lan- 
 guage and the sentiment of King David, and, standing before 
 high Heaven, say of their native land, as he said of his well- 
 loved city, " If I forget thee, Jerusalem ! may my right 
 hand forget its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof 
 of my mouth !" [Lond and prolonged applause.] 
 
 Next in order was a toast which always excites a glow of 
 satisfaction in the Scottish mind, as with it are associated so 
 much of the moral and mental culture which constitute the 
 glory of our nation : 
 
 Our Schools and Schoolmasters. 
 
 Kesponded to by Mr, Robert Menzies, His reply is here 
 given nearly in the language in which it was delivered. Its 
 many noble sentiments and happy suggestions called up the 
 reminiscences of school-boy days, and reminding us of the en- 
 dearments of early life : 
 
 Mr. President — It was evidence of more than common 
 wisdom and foresight in our ancestors, who, when they had 
 emerged from the darkness broken by the reformation, took 
 measures to plant a school, as well as a church, in every 
 pjrish of our native land. The independence they had 
 achieved had been won by daring deeds and unexampled 
 heroism, and they were unwilling it should be wrested from 
 their children, or the galling yoke which they had broken to 
 be placed upon the necks of their descendants, a yoke which 
 neither they nor their fathers had been able to bear. They 
 well knew that education, universally diffused, education 
 influenced by the teachings of religion, thus affecting both 
 ■ the head and the heart, was the best safeguard that liberty, 
 civil or religious, could desire. To qualify their children, 
 therefore, to hold fast to those principles, and to maintain 
 that liberty, they saw the necessity of imparting to them 
 the knowledge which would enable them to judge for them- 
 selves regarding their relation to both church and State. 
 They established the system of common parish schools, 
 which has been continued to this day, and to which many of 
 us here assembled are indebted for all the intellectual train- 
 ing we in our youth received. [Cheers.] 
 
 I stand before you a graduate of a parish school, and if 
 Scotland had no other claim on me, I should deem myself 
 
unworthy of being called her son did I not testify to the 
 care she has ever manifested for the education of her child- 
 ren. And by education I do not mean that profound learn- 
 ing which can only be acquired after years of study, and to 
 promote which, colleges are founded and maintained, but I 
 mean the ability to read and write our common language. 
 The man who can do this is educated — tench him to read, and 
 you give him a key with which he can unlock the exhaust- 
 less stores of knowledge. You give him the power to explore 
 the mines of learning, which, but for this, would be as 
 effectually buried as if they lay in the profoundest depths of 
 the ocean. Teach him to read, and he can inform himself 
 as to the history of our world, and of the race ; he can be- 
 come familiar and hold communion with the spirits of the 
 mighty dead, and claim acquaintance with the long list of 
 intellectual giants, whose greatness is the wonder of the 
 world. Teach him to read, and the revelation of God is no 
 longer a sealed book, and the wonderous knowledge it con- 
 tains becomes his own. We pity the man upon whose sight- 
 less eyes the light of Heaven shines in vain, and for whom 
 the beauties of nature are spead out in vain ; but he is far 
 more to be pited whose mind has never been illuminated by 
 the light of knowledge, and who is left to grope his way in 
 the darkness of ignorance, through this troubled life. All 
 honor, then, to the men who established, and the nation which 
 perpetuates the parish schools, and brings the light of truth 
 to bear upon the human mind. This Scotland has done, and 
 we cannot tell how much we owe to her for this ; it has en- 
 abled her to take the place she occupies among the nations 
 of the earth, of which we are so justly proud. It has ena- 
 bled her sons to distinguish themselves among the " foremost 
 men of the world." It has given us a man, whose name is 
 known in every land — the peasant, ploughman, poet — whose 
 birthday is celebrated with so much pomp and circumstance 
 to-day. [Great applause.] 
 
 Nor should we forget the debt of gratitude we owe to those 
 who in youth were at once the objects of our reverence, our 
 fear, and our love — the patient, toiling schoolmaster. Is 
 there a man among us who would not delight to shake that 
 hand, whose power, when armed with the awful taws, we 
 feared so much ? [Cheers.] Who would not welcome, 
 with peculiar pleasure, .the dominie who opened to our young 
 minds the mysteries of learning, and led us, step by step, 
 from one degree of knowledge to another ? [Applause.] 
 What though he insisted on the Monday's psalm, in the rough 
 
38 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 versification of Rouse? What though the "Chief end of 
 man," and the long questions which follow, were impressed 
 upon our memory by the application of something more po- 
 tent than moral suasion ? They conceived it their duty, and 
 we honor them in the discharge of it. The schoolmasters of 
 Scotland were not men of only common attainments. Many 
 of them were learned in all the wisdom of the schools, and 
 from many a humble roof, beside some wimpling burn, or 
 on some grassy hill side, have gone forth young men, pre- 
 pared to take their places in the best colleges in the land, 
 whose preparatory training in the classics, the sciences, and 
 the arts, was received in the parish school. All honor, then, 
 to the men who founded, the nation which perpetuates, and 
 the worthy men who regulate and conduct, our parish schools. 
 Permit me to conclude by reading the well known lines of 
 the gifted Motherwell, which will come home, I doubt not, 
 to the hearts of all, and carry them, in memory, to the days 
 when in "life's morning mai'ch," they conned the first simple 
 lessons in the parish school, and began to realize the sweet, 
 or maybe the bitter experiences of human life. [Loud and 
 prolonged applause. 
 
 Mr. Menzies concluded his speech by reading " Jeanie 
 
 Morrison." 
 
 The next re'gular toast was — 
 
 The PrenH of Milwaukee — 77/e generous encouragement which it has ex- 
 tended to our Festival^ deviandx and receives our war/next thanks. Long 
 7)1 ay it he the friend of geniiis mid the supporter of ita productions. 
 
 The President, having announced the toast, said there was 
 a Scotch " chiel amang you, taking notes," whom he should 
 call upon to respond to the sentiment. He referred to Gen. 
 RuFcs King, Editor of the Milwaulsce Sentinel. 
 
 Gen. Kino, being loudly called for, responded in the follow- 
 ing neat and happy speech. Its }iuints were received with 
 great good humorj and the General resumed his seat amidst 
 great applause : 
 
 I am admonished, Mr. President, as well by your recent 
 hint, as by the lateness of the hour, that short speeches are 
 now the order of the evening. There is but one theme, sir, 
 that on this occasion may rightfully claim all thoughts and 
 tongues, and that is, Robert Bdrns ! But I must leave it 
 to other and abler tongues, to a livelier fancy, or a happier 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF EGBERT BURNS. 39 
 
 inspiration, to do justice to the name and fame, the memory 
 and the story, of this Poet of the people. 
 
 In listening, to-night, to the long catalogue of Scottish, 
 worthies, to the illustrious roll-call of her statesmen and 
 warriors, her philosophers and poets, her merchants and me- 
 chanics,! have been struck with one singular omission. We 
 have heard nothing, sir, ^bout the Jinanciers of Scotland, and 
 yet history assigns them a prominent place in her records. 
 It was to Scotland that France was indebted for early in- 
 struction in the mysteries of excessive credit and unlimited 
 paper money, under the tuition of Law ; and not a ievf of 
 my hearers, sir, can bear witness to the fact that Wisconsin 
 and the north-west took their first lessons in the same school 
 from two canny Scotchmen. [Great laughter.] 
 
 Mr. President, while drinking in, with willing ears, all 
 that has been said in praise of Scotland — the glowing de- 
 scriptions of her fertile vales and romantic higblands, her 
 honest men and bonnie lasses — 1 have wondered a little at 
 meeting here, to-night, in this distant western land, four 
 thousand miles away from the country of their biith, a hun- 
 dred and fifty Scotchmen. And 1 was irresistibly led to the 
 sajaie conclusion which the distinguished Senator from Illi- 
 nois, (Mr. Douglas,) once expressed, in regard to his birth- 
 place, Vermont, that Scotland must be an excellent place to 
 emigrate from. But, sir, no doubt our Scottish brethren 
 came here, as certain German ladies came to England with 
 King Gkohoe, " for all our goots." For one, sir, I extend 
 to them the right hand of fellowship, and 1 give, as my opin- 
 ion of them, this sentiment : 
 
 The Scotchmen hi, WiHConnirt. — Worthy souk of the soil from which they 
 sprwuf — loyal cittzenx of the laud of their adoption. 
 
 The last regular toast was given by the President : 
 
 The Lasses. 
 
 This sentiment, which always elicits the warmest demonstra- 
 tions, did not fail, on this occasion, to rouse all the gallant 
 feeling and tender enthusiasm of our countrymen, and rising 
 spontaneously to their feet, they made the ceiling resound with 
 hurrahs repeated and repeated. 
 
 Responded to by Mr. Archibald Frew in the following 
 
 chivalrous language : 
 
 Mr. Chairman — I feel very much gratified, indeed, that to 
 me has been assigned the pleasing privilege of responding 
 
40 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 to the toast now given, and received with such warm appro- 
 bation. Such an enthusiastic reception is a sure indication 
 that this large and intelligent assembly properly appreciate 
 woman's worth ; and well does she deserve all the honor we 
 can bestow upon her. What would this world be without 
 the moral influence exercised by woman ? What would our 
 sons and daughters become but for the instruction given and 
 the example set them by their mothers. 
 
 Who has not experienced a mother's love, when upon a 
 bed of sickness she comforted and supported us ? She com- 
 plained not — was never weary. Day and night she was 
 ever ready at our call to render us assistance ; her only 
 anxiety being for the wellfare of the sufferer. Maternal love 
 is there exhibited in its brightest character. 
 
 We have also the fond affection of the sister, whose 
 anxious solicitations for our wellfare are second only to a 
 mother's. 
 
 Another example of woman's mission is beautifully de- 
 fined by the wife. When trials and misfortunes gather 
 around her husband, her love grows all the stronger ; and, 
 as a true friend, she pours the balm of consolation into his 
 soul, which nerves him to withstand the coldness and ne- 
 glect of the world. 
 
 Poets, in all ages, have sung the praises of woman. Fore- 
 most among these is Robert Burns. We see him on the 
 banks of Ayr parting with his Highland Mary — alas ! 
 never more to meet her in this world. But even death was 
 not able to obliterate the recollection of his attachment, for 
 years afterward he wrote these touching lines : 
 
 When mouldering now in silent dust, 
 
 That heart that lo'ed me dearly ; 
 But still within my bosom's core, 
 
 Shall live my Highland Mary. 
 
 These words show the depth of love that animated the Poet's 
 heart. If ever one knew the true nature of woman, 'twas 
 Burns. His poems and songs are full of endearing senti- 
 ments towards her, and those who never felt her sweet influ- 
 ence he addresses thus : 
 
 For you sae douse, ye sneer at this, 
 
 Ye're nought but senseless asses, ! 
 The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, 
 
 He dearly lov'd the lasses, ! 
 
 Let us now look, for a moment, at his own household, 
 under the care and management of bonnie Jean Armour. 
 We find, in her, the affectionate, prudent wife, and the duti- 
 ful, pious mother. She reared her family under difficulties 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 41 
 
 of no ordinary character. When her noble husband was 
 about passing from the scenes of earth, there was the partner 
 of his existence, day and night, sustaining and comforting 
 him, when all the world seemed cold and indifferent to his 
 fate. And, after the grave closed over his mortal part, 
 amidst poverty and trial, she proceeded to provide for and 
 educate a numerous family ; and the best evidence ■ of her 
 qualities, as a mother, is in the high and honorable position 
 that the sons of Burns now occupy. 
 
 But, coming to this side of the Atlantic, we look with 
 veneration upon the mother of Washington, who embued 
 his youth with a love of truth that made him the man 
 amongst the great men of his day, and has given him an un- 
 dying memory in the hearts of his countrymen. 
 
 But it is needless for me to enlarge on the virtues of female 
 character. Philosophers, men of science, historians, poets, 
 statesmen, all agree as to its dignity and influence, and you 
 have, this evening, endorsed this unanimous verdict, by the 
 enthusiastic manner in which you received the toast. I 
 tkank you, therefore, in the name of the ladies, and hope 
 the " lasses " of Milwaukee will not think us Scotchmen 
 have a wrong conception of woman's worth, although they 
 have not been permitted to lend their smiles to the festivities 
 of this joyous occasion. [Applause.] 
 
 The Quartette then sung " Green Grow the Rashes !" 
 
 A sentiment which had been forwarded by the Burns' Club 
 
 of Detroit was then read. It was as follows : 
 
 Burns — the genial and patriotic Poet of Scotland — who, by the devotion 
 of his genius to his country and countrymen, best illustrated man's power 
 to serve humanity. 
 
 After which three rousing cheers were given for the Burns' 
 Club of Detroit. 
 
 Letters of apology were then read, received from the Hon. 
 A. G. Miller, Lieut. Gov. R. D. Campbell, and Col. Chas. 
 D. Robinson, the latter of whom enclosed the following sen- 
 timent : 
 
 Scotch Poetry and Scotch Men — Well adapted for transplanting, they 
 are no longer exotics among American literature and Americans. 
 
 Mr. J. R. Livingston communicated the following poetical 
 
 explanation of his absence, the reading of which was frequently 
 
 interrupted by roars of laughter : 
 
42 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 I pardon crave for n>\ presumption, 
 
 It may be if the want ■' gumption, . 
 That gars a - illy gowk like me, 
 Intrude upon your company. 
 
 I cauna meet wi' y-'U mysel', 
 
 But send you thi.-- o wish you well 
 
 That you may hae a happy nighty 
 
 I truly wish wi' a' my might. 
 
 A sick wee bairn at hame compels 
 My Jo an^ me to watch by spells, 
 Baith thro' the day an' thro' the night, 
 To see that he is car'd for right. 
 
 The author o' this poor epistle 
 
 Vows wi' himsel' ta wet his whistle. 
 
 Whaur is the Scotchman ? whaur, that spurns 
 
 The memory of Robert Burns ? 
 
 The cause for which you've met is guid : 
 I like to see auld Scotland's bluid 
 Arouse, in honor o' her son, 
 Wha fairly has the battle won. 
 
 He tocht wi' neither dirk nor sword, 
 
 But by the pithy weight o' word, 
 
 He gar'd the roguish stan' aboot, 
 
 An' lugs o' lords wad even cloot. 
 
 He had his faults — but wliat o' that ? 
 Whaur is the man can lift bis hat, 
 And glow'r his conscience i'' the face, 
 An' swear he ne'er did it disgrace ' 
 
 The things he did, I canna tell ; 
 
 Indeed, he kennM na a' himsel' 
 
 He kenu'd na how his random jots 
 
 Wad warm the hearts o' brither Scots. 
 
 I hope that every Scottish chiel' 
 
 Within his bosom pride may feel, 
 
 Whene'r again the day returns, 
 
 To celebrate the birth of Burns. 
 His memory I dinna doot 
 You're swallowed roun' and roan' aboot : 
 Whan ueist you whamle the decanter. 
 Drink ta his hero — Tarn o' Shanter. 
 
 I hope in chorus you will chime, 
 In pardoii of this simple rhyme ; 
 I am no Poet — when I'm gone 
 I will be a dead — 
 
 Livingston(b). 
 
 The regular programme having now been concluded, the 
 Chair invited all present to contribute with song, sentiment 
 and fun to the enjoyment and hilarity of the evening. Never 
 was an invitation more spontaneously and successfully respond- 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 
 
 43 
 
 ed to. It would be impossible to transfer to paper the vivid 
 
 sallies of wit and repartee which ensued. Songs, speeches, 
 
 stories and recitations alternated in rapid succession during 
 
 the remainder of the evening. Recollections of our native 
 
 land, and of the days of auld lang syne, were idealized in many 
 
 an endearing thought and expression, to which the pen can do 
 
 but the faintest justice. The most we can hope to accomplish 
 
 is to give a bare outline, which we must leave the imagination 
 
 to fill up. 
 
 The following volunteer toast was sent to and read by the 
 
 Chair : 
 
 Colin Campbell — A gia7it among soldier^ s giants. When he leads, then 
 Scotchmen will follow. 
 
 This allusion to the hero of the age was greeted with tre- 
 mendous plaudits, evincing the pride entertained by the gal- 
 lant Scotch for their illustrious countryman. 
 
 Mr. Colin Campbell, of Milwaukee, was called upon to 
 respond. In doing so, he paid a glowing compliment to Sir 
 Colin' s qualities as a soldier, and eulogized his achievements 
 in the Crimea, but expressed a want of sympathy in his mis- 
 sion to India, which drew forth some symptoms of displeasure, 
 restraining him from proceeding for a moment. His right to 
 free speech having been conceded, he closed without further 
 interruption, though all present seemed to believe his allusion 
 unfortunate. 
 
 Mr. David Johnston, of Waukesha, then gave, 
 
 Ireland — the Land of Song — all honor to her patriots, orators and poets. 
 
 Dr. James Johnson responded in behalf of his country, 
 
 with a great deal of native humor : 
 
 Mr. President — I am very glad to be present with you 
 this evening, as it is one of the pleasantest nights I ever 
 spent in my life. At the same time, I feel disappointed at 
 the manner in which Scotland has been spoken of, inasmuch 
 as I will have no trouble at all to make it appear that the 
 Scotch were, as a nation, indebted for their very existence 
 to Ireland. In the first place, I would give the company to 
 understand, that the distance between the two countries is so 
 
44 
 
 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 short — less than half way across Lake Michigan — that' 
 standing on the coast of Antrim, the clothes drying on the 
 Scothish shore could be easily discerned. [Laughter.] Be- 
 sides, there are good reasons for supposing that Burns was an 
 Irishman, because he frequently used the words, " oehone !" 
 which rhymed with " Widow Malone." [Great laughter.] 
 He said the Scotch all descended from the Irish, and he was 
 proud of his descendants. The first Scotch king was an 
 Irishman. [Continued laughter.] The Scotch whisky is a 
 poor imitation of the Irish article. [Roars of laughter.] 
 
 He continued in a mirth-provoking strain, and closed with 
 the following : 
 
 To the Memory of Thomas Moore, the Bard of Ireland. 
 
 Drank standing and in silence. 
 
 The Chair here called upon the Vice-President for a few re- 
 marks. 
 
 Judge McArthur replied, in a very humorous style, nearly 
 as follows : 
 
 Mr. President — I find I have been making a great mis- 
 take with regard to my nationality, as I had always sup- 
 posed, until I heard my friend, the Doctor, that I was a 
 Scotchman, and that I was, in point of fact, born in my na- 
 tive country. [Laughter.] I never knew before that I was 
 an Irishman, or the son of an Irishman. [Laughter.] I 
 have to thank the Doctor for disabusing my mind of this 
 national heresy, and I am now satisfied that Bdrns wrote 
 " Widow Machree," and that Tom Moore was the author of 
 " Scots Wha Hae." [Cheers and laughter.] I am also 
 convinced that the Grampians emigrated from Ireland — 
 [laughter] — that Loch Lomond came from Killarney — [re- 
 newed laughter] — and that the Solway used to be a small 
 tributary of the Liffey. I am also convinced that my friend, 
 the Doctor, is a Scotchman. Look at his head and be con- 
 vinced ! [Roars of Laughter.] It would be known any- 
 where as a sprout of the Grampians. [Continued laughter.] 
 But if my head, shorn of its ambrosial locks, should be seen 
 peeping above the waters of the Shannon, everybody there 
 would be found, like my friend, the Doctor, swearing that I 
 was an Irish salmon. [Great laughter.] But, while I con- 
 ced that Tom Moore might possibly have written "Willie 
 Brew'd a' Peck o' Maut," upon reflection, I retract my con- 
 cession, that anybody, in the wide world, but a true Scot, like 
 Robert Burns, could have written " Scots Wha Hae," the 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBERT BURNS. 45 
 
 greatest national ode in the records of time. [Cheers.] But, 
 Mr. Chairman, in order to vindicate my own nativity, I am 
 ready to depone, that neither my father, nor my mother, nor 
 any of my ancestors, back to the period of the Roman wall, 
 ever gazed upon the green verdure of the Irish sod. I, how- 
 ever, hope that both my friend, the Doctor, and myself, and 
 the two nationalities to which we belong, will ever be found 
 uniting in the appreciation of true genius, whether it comes 
 from one or the other of the sister isles. I beg to conclude 
 by reminding you that our countrymen in Chicago are cele- 
 brating the day with extraordinary demonstrations and en- 
 thusiasm. I will, therefore, give you : 
 
 Our Chicago friends, and their representative. Dr. Leib, 
 
 Dr. Charles Leib, of Chicago, being loudly called for, re- 
 sponded as follows : 
 
 Mr. President — I am somewhat surprised to learn that I 
 am a Scotchman, and the representative of the Scotchmen 
 of Chicago. Until now, I supposed myself a " Pennsylvania 
 Dutchman." [Roars of laughter. — Judge MoArthur put 
 on a broad grin at this mistake, (unintentional, on his part, 
 of course,) and said it was a mistake of the printers.] I 
 thank my friend, Judge McArthur, for the complimentary 
 manner in which he has heow pleased to speak of the home 
 of my adoption — one of twm cities of the Lake. 
 
 It has been said by some of our oldest inhabitans, that 
 what is now the heart of Chicago, was not much more than 
 a quarter of a century ago a mere quag mire ; fit only for 
 the abode of musquitoes, tad-poles and bull-frogs. [Loud 
 laughter.] But such is not the case now, for scarcely had the 
 red man turned his back upon Fort Dearborn, and read his 
 doom in the setting sun, than following upon his footsteps, 
 came the men of New England, the descendants of the brave 
 hearts, who came here to enjoy the blessings of civil and re- 
 ligious liberty ; who, with one hand led their youth along 
 the path of science, and with the other pointed them to a 
 home beyond the sky. They founded a city, and by their 
 indomitable will and determination of purpose, have made it 
 one of the most important commercial points in the north- 
 west. 
 
 As a Chicagoian, I am proud of it, for it is, indeed, a great 
 city. It is great in the intelligence and enterprise of its 
 people ; great as to its geographical position, and great as 
 the railroad centre of the north-west, and the very heart of 
 Illinois, for from it go, in every direction, the arteries, and 
 
46 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 nerves, the veins, and sinews, which have been the means of 
 its tlevelopmeat — the development of its agricultural and 
 mineral resources. 
 
 Almost every nation and every tongue is represented in 
 Chicago. Among our most successful business, as well as 
 professional men, there are many who first saw the light of 
 day upon the other side of old ocean. It may be at this mo- 
 ment, Scotchmen and the descendants of Scotchmen, resident 
 in Chicago, are listening t© words of living, breathing, mov- 
 ing eloquence, to flowers of rhetoric and figures of speech, 
 which are falling like lightning from the mountain cloud, 
 from the lips of a McComas, as he dwells with earnestness 
 upon the gems of thought given the world by the immortal 
 Bard, whose birthday we have met to celebrate, and which 
 stamped him as the greatest of modern poets. [Cheers.] 
 
 Scotchmen ! the fame of Robert Burns belongs not to 
 your country alone. Wherever the English language is 
 spoken — wherever that beautiful poem, the " Cottar's Satur- 
 day Night," (so eloquently referred to by Judge McArthur) 
 has been read, a monument has been erected to his memory 
 in the hearts of the lowly and the noble, more lasting than 
 if erected by the hands of man. 
 
 JiuRNs was, indeed, the people's Poet. He loved the right 
 and hated the wrong, and to-day a halo of glory surrounds 
 his name, brighter far than that which surrounds the names 
 of the proudest monarchs, whose names grace the golden 
 page of their country's history. What Schiller was to 
 Germany, what Shakspear was to England, was Robert 
 Burns to Scotland. [Applause.] 
 
 Though I am from Pennsylvania, the land of peace, whose 
 settlement was followed by no stream of blood, and from that 
 part of the State where it is said we cannot see English after 
 four o'clock, — [laughter] — and where the people are still 
 voting for General Jackson — [pnewed laughter] — there are 
 none among you who revere th • memory more, or admire the 
 genius of Burns, than myself, and I have but to regret that 
 Robert Bprns was not a Pennsylvania Dutchman, and Saint 
 Patrick also. [Hoars of laughter.] 
 
 I love, sir, the mountains and valleys of my native State, 
 even as you love your highlands and lowlands ; but, while 
 your highlands still stand proudly erect, monuments of the 
 Creator's greatness, our Alleghanies have given way before 
 the spirit of the age ; the pack horse and the Conestagateam 
 have been succeeded by the canal and the railroad, and it 
 may be that at this moment the wild shriek of the iron horse 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 47 
 
 is heard as he rushes acrcss the Alleghanies, in the greatness 
 of his strength and power, bearing to market the products ofr 
 our soil, and the black diamonds of our bleak and rugged 
 mountains, while the people of our towns and villages are 
 led to paths of industry by a cloud by day, and a pillow of 
 fire by night. But, Mr. President, I find I am making a 
 speech, and will stop. Permit me, however, to say that I 
 am greatly gratified to see the good feeling that prevail? here, 
 and to express the sincere hope that the " Stars and Strips," 
 and the " Union Jack," may ever be as closely united as they 
 are to-night in this hall. It caused my heart to rejoice when I 
 witnessed the enthusiasm with which you responded to the 
 " Star Spangled Banner ;" and as you love to see the flags 
 of the two most powerful nations of the civilized world hang- 
 ing together in union, so do you love the Constitution of our 
 country, framed by the best and wisest men of the day in 
 which they lived. Aye, and you love the Union of ..these 
 States, cemented by the blood of the patriots of the Rev®- 
 lution. You love it, because you feel — 
 
 'Tis a union of lakes, 'tis a union of lauds, 
 
 'Tis a union of States none can sever, 
 'Tis a union of hearts, 'tis a union of hands, 
 
 And the flag of our Union forever. 
 
 Permit me in conclusion, sir, to give : 
 
 Scotland — She has furnished Wisconsin with a Lieut. Governor, may 
 she soon furnish her with a Governor. 
 
 Judge HuBBELL said it was conclusive, when Judge McAr- 
 THUR mistook a Pennsylvania Dutchman for a Scotchman, that 
 he himself must be an Irishman. 
 
 Whereupon, Judge McArthur retorted, that to show that 
 it was simply a mistake and not a blunder, he would now call 
 upon the City Attorney, Mr. G-eorge A. Woodward, well 
 known to be a Pennsylvania Dutchman. 
 
 This brought Mr. Woodward to his feet, who proceeded to 
 
 address the assembly in the following eloquent strain : 
 
 Mr. President — I came here to listen, not to speak. I 
 never dreamed that, among so gallant an array of poets, 
 orators and wits, so humble an individual as myself could 
 possibly attract your notice, or be called upon to occupy 
 any portion of your time. I scarcely know what I can say, 
 unless it be to thank you for the privilege of participating 
 with you in the festivities of this occasion. To me it has, 
 
48 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF 
 
 indeed, been one of unalloyed pleasure and enjoyment. I 
 jpust confess too, Mr. Presi'dent, that what I have witnessed 
 to-night has unfolded to me a phase of Scottish character of 
 which I have been hitherto unaware. I have heard Scotch- 
 men characterized as frugal, thrifty, pious, and all that, but 
 never before to-night did I know that they were jolly too. 
 Why, sir, if the Poet could have looked in upon this scene 
 to-night, although it might not suggest to him the " storied 
 urn," I certainly think that he could not fail to characterize 
 it as an " animated bust." 
 
 But, Mr. President, to speak more seriously, before I close 
 I wish to express my heartfelt sympathy with your celebra- 
 tion of this occasion. It is, indeed, sir, a delightful sight to 
 witness men of all nations and kindred thus uniting with the 
 Sons of Scotland to honor the memory of Burns. It is 
 true that, as Scotchmen, you have a peculiar right to cherish 
 an aflQ^ctionate remembrance of your nation's Bard, for, in 
 your hearts, his numbers wake recollections of the " auld 
 lang syne " in Fatherland ; but we, whose lineage comes 
 from other sources, also claim a property in Burns — our 
 hearts, as well, as yours, have often echoed responsively the 
 simple strains of the sweet-toned lyre, and we, almost as 
 jealously as you, delight to do him honor. Well may we 
 say of him, as the eloquent Phillips has said of one greater 
 than he, '' It matters very little, sir, what immediate spot 
 may be the birth place of such a man — no country can claim, 
 no people can appropriate him — the boon of Providence to 
 the human race —his fame is eternity and his residence crea- 
 tion." ]Applause.] 
 
 There is, Mr. President, a moral significance in this occa- 
 sion, to which I must briefly allude. One hundred years ago 
 to-night, Robert Burns was born a poor peasant boy, among 
 the Ayrshire hills. Little thought the humble people who 
 stood around his craddle, that before he departed the life upon 
 which he was then so inauspiciously entering, he should 
 achieve a fame which would fill the civilized Avorld. But 
 such a fame he did achieve, and to-night, a century from his 
 birth, all over this new world his name is flashing along the 
 electric wire.s, ied with sentiments of endearment and of 
 
 honor, evoki..^^ t.uoctionate responces from thousands of 
 hearts. Let the sons of poverty and toil, struggling with 
 " those twin jailers of the daring heart — low birth and iron 
 fortune" — hail his example as the Star in the East, guiding 
 them to their redemption. Let them never forget those words 
 of Burns, as full of truth as of poetry : 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 49 
 
 What tlio' on hamely fare we dine, 
 
 Wear hodden grey and a' that ; 
 Gie foola their silks, and knaves their wine — 
 
 A man's a man for a' that. 
 
 Mr. President, to conclude, I give you : 
 
 The good St. Andrew —^irst chosen of the Apostolic band — let jm imitate 
 his life and emulate his virtues, although we may not be compelled to bear 
 his cross, we yet may wear his crown. 
 
 On concluding, Mr. Woodward took his seat amidst deafen- 
 ing cheers. 
 
 "Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut" was then sung in fine 
 flowing style. 
 
 At this period, " the mirth and fun grew fast and furious." 
 The anecdotes were told with increasing zest, and hearty 
 laughter rewarded every effort at amusement. The songs 
 were sung with redoubled fervor, while all voices united in the 
 choruses, and happiness and joy reigned supreme and sove- 
 reign. 
 
 Gen. RuFUS King, who, though born in America, claims 
 
 that his veins are " chuck full " of Scotch blood, gave the 
 
 following patriotic toast : 
 
 The Memory of two Signers of the Declaration of Independence, Scotch- 
 men — John Witherspoon and George Wilson. 
 
 Drank standing. 
 
 Mr. James Kerr presented the following very appropriate 
 
 sentiment : 
 
 While to Scotland's Poet we offer the unaffected tribute of our hearts, we 
 would not forget to honor Tannahill, Ramsay, Scott, Hogg., and other 
 kindred Scottish Bards. 
 
 This was acknowledged by Mr. White, of Kenosha, in a 
 few remarks and reciting SgoTT's beautiful ballad of "Young 
 Lochinvar." 
 
 Mr. George Campbell recited the "Auld Sark Sleeve ;" 
 "Hohenlinden" was given by Mr. Alex. Brown ; while Mr. 
 David Johnston brought, down the house with " Simon and 
 Janet." Among the songs given were "Annie Laurie," 
 by Mr. James Wardrobe ; " Bonnie Doon," by Mr. Gol- 
 die ; " Craigie Lee," by the Quartette ; and " Nae Luck 
 About the House," by the entire company. 
 
50 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 Dr. Leib being called upon for a song, gave " Red, White 
 and Blue," the chorus bringing every voice into action. 
 
 By Mr. A. C Morison : 
 
 The Bar of Milwaukee. 
 
 Mr. BuTTRiCK, on behalf of the legal profession, was called 
 upon, and closed an admirable speech by saying if he had not 
 been born in America he would have been proud to be a 
 Scotchman. 
 
 The Chair now announced that he was about to call on an 
 old and respected citizen, who was well known to all present — 
 Mr. James Murray. 
 
 Mr. Murray, being loudly called for, rose, and with a few 
 remarks, said that he would give as a toast — 
 
 Milwaukee and its Bay — 
 To which Prof. Dorward has something to say. 
 
 Prof. B. I. BoRWARD then read the foUdVing beautiful and 
 
 original Poem : 
 
 MILWAUKEE BAY. 
 
 Let Naples boast her azure bay, 
 
 Or Bengal, 'neath perpetual noon , 
 Let Mormon Turks, with opium drug'd, 
 
 Snore to the waves of Scanderoon. 
 For wild Biscay I do not care ; 
 
 Or strands remote, however gay- 
 Let me but live beside the fair 
 And beautiful Milwaukee Bay. 
 
 Milwaukee Bay ! Milwaukee Bay ! 
 Now gleaming in the eye of day ; 
 By sun, or moon, or starlight ray, 
 I love thee, fair Milwaukee Bay. 
 
 'Twas love that form'd Milwaukee Bay — 
 
 The earth, enamored of the wave, 
 Stretched forth her dusky arms afar, 
 ^ And won, and kept her lover brave. 
 
 'Tis love that bids the waters lave, 
 
 And kiss the shore with starry spray. 
 And murmured music evermore — 
 For love, I praise Milwaukee Bay ! 
 
 Milwaukee Bay ! Milwaukee Bay ! &c 
 
 For haply at her window now, 
 
 A lady sits of soul so true ; 
 Love in her heart, peace on her brow, 
 
 And purer than the morning dew. 
 Perhaps she sings the song I love ; 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 51 
 
 Perhaps, her eyes now eastward stray — 
 Her «oice is like the turtle dove ; 
 
 Her eyes — they shame Milwaukee Bay ! 
 Milwaukee Bay ! Milwaukee Bay ! &c. 
 
 Ah ! what is wealth, or power, or fame, 
 
 Without the healing joys of home ? 
 For these, we stem the stormy wave ; 
 
 For these, to distant lands we roam. 
 Then, as our keel glides thro' the deep, 
 
 This song shall cheer us on our way : 
 We sing the joys of steadfast love — 
 
 We sing of fair Milwaukee Bay ! 
 
 Milwaukee Bay ! Milwaukee Bay ! &c. 
 
 Dr. James Johnson now called attention to the following 
 sentiment : 
 
 Wa.'ihi7igton. 
 
 Which was received by the whole company standing and in 
 silence. 
 
 Judge McArthur then rose and spoke as follows : 
 Mr. President — I rise again to engage your attention for a 
 moment, at the request ol' many friends around me, in order 
 to secure for the name of Sir Coltn Campbell the expression 
 of our united admiration, and the pride we feel in his bril- 
 liant and heroic life. [This was received with great ap- 
 plause, and the speaker proceeded.] The response which 
 has already been made to the toast, in honor of the brave, 
 old soldier, although, in other respects, both appropriate 
 and eloquent, failed, I believe, to meet our just expectations, 
 when the gentleman who made it, expressed a want of sym- 
 pathy for his present mission to India. Now, sir, I think 
 that we have an intense feeling of joy for that mission, and 
 that our hearts and feelings are entirely withhim. [Applause.] 
 Who among us has not wept at the sufferings and the sad 
 fate of the European residents in India; who tell the victims 
 of Sepoy treachery and brutality ? Whose blood, sir, has 
 not boiled at the recital of the inexpressible cruelties inflicted 
 upon women and children ? And who but has joined in the 
 glow of satisfaction when brave men avenged these wrongs, 
 and restored peace, safety and protection to our blood and 
 lineage ? And who has been more conspicuous in these 
 glorious results than our own gallant countrymen, with 
 brave, old Sir Colin at their head ? Noble old hero ! We 
 remember him when, with his Highland brigade, he was 
 foremost in storming the heights of Alma, and, in the en- 
 thusiastic'moment of success, shouting " none but Highland 
 bonnfits here ;" or, when the ammunition of his soldiers was 
 
52 CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OP 
 
 exhausted, with the quickness of his nature, he roared out 
 " give them the bayonet men ;" or, when at Balaklava, he 
 and his unquailing "thin red line" routed the charge of 
 Russian cavalry, saying he " didna think it wort^i while to 
 order his lads more than twa deep to give the enemy a belly- 
 ful ;" or, when he rushed like a thunderbolt upon the closing 
 scenes at the ghastly field of Inkermann ; or, when he took 
 the Redan, without a blow, as if his very name had com- 
 pelled the Russian, brave as'he was, to retreat before the in- 
 vincible assault of his claymore ; or, when on a notice of 
 twenty-four hours, he started for the conquest of the Indian 
 Empire, leaving orders for his beloved brigade to follow by 
 the most expeditious steam routes ; or, when at length we 
 have traced him in his Eastern campaigns, and read the 
 Gazette teeming with his victories, and beheld the Orient 
 nearly submitting to a repose which had been conquered not, 
 more by the valor than by the wisdom of his genius. In 
 all these, we have honored and gloried in Sir Colin Camp- 
 bell. [Enthusiastic applause.] 
 
 I feel a peculiar pride in the grand, old hero, for he is 
 from Glasgow, my native city. His glory is intensely 
 gratifying to his townsmen. The magistrates and citizens 
 of Glasgow have given substantial evidence of this, for they 
 have showered upon him every civic honor, and compliment- 
 ed him with the present of a magnificent sword. No city in 
 the British Empire has furnished the army with more intrer 
 pid soldiers. The hero of Corunna, who sleeps " with his 
 martial cloak around him," was born and bred within its 
 precincts, and the volunteers she raised were conspicuous in 
 the Peninsular battles, from Vimiera to Waterloo. In the 
 celebrated conflict, at Fuentes de Onora, where Wellington 
 defeated Massena, one of the Glasgow regiments was direct- 
 ed to dislodge the enemy from a passage leading to the vil- 
 lage. It was an avenue lined on each side with trees and 
 shrubbery, and sloped gently towards the town. It bore a 
 resemblance to one of the most celebrated thoroughfares in 
 their native city, and Col. Cadogan, who saw the likeness 
 with his quick eye, placed himself at the head of his men, 
 
 exclaiming loudly his enthusiastic call, *' charge the h s 
 
 down the Gallowgate." [Great laughter.] The result was, 
 that every Glasgow man came out at the other end of the 
 lane with a Frenchman dangling on his bayonet. [Renew- 
 ed laughter.] I will only say one word more regarding 
 that city, which is, that she has also given the most con- 
 vincing proof of her taste for the arts of peace, for science, 
 for philosophy, and for literature. 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. . 53 
 
 But, sir, to return to Sir Colin. I believe he is engaged in 
 a work of substantial justice. He is not only suppressing 
 lawlessness, cruelty and rapine, but he is teaching semi-bar- 
 barism the superior value of knowledge. Nations, like 
 children, have to be whipped into improvement, and I be- 
 lieve it is the mission of Great Britain and America to spread 
 their spendid civilization over the effete nations of the earth, 
 and that the sword may be, under Providence, a means em- 
 ployed in the great work. It is not until communities have 
 passed through seas of blood, and been swept by the storms 
 of adversity, and purified by the discipline of experience, 
 that they become capable of self-government. Then the 
 soldier may lay down his sword, and the masses, left to their 
 own direction, will assume their true position. Men like 
 Sir Colin, are schoolmasters abroad on a grand scale, giving 
 rough lessons undoubtedly, but still the only ones that can 
 tell upon the materialism of Asiatic life. He is literally 
 instructing the young idea how to fire. Let him go on. Let 
 him batter down the walls of India — batter down the walls 
 of China — batter down the walls of Japan ; yes, sir, batter 
 down everybody's walls which exclude the light and civili- 
 zation of the nineteenth century. [Great applause.] These 
 are ray sentiments, and I now close by calling three cheers 
 for Sir Colin Campbell, the hero of the age. 
 
 Three tremendous cheers were rung out, and when the noise 
 had subsided, 
 
 Mr. Shiells mounted the rostrum and read the following 
 stirring and appropriate Poem : 
 
 Highland lads are brisk and bauld ; 
 Highland mettle ne'er gets cauld ; 
 Highland spunk 's no easy fleyed ; 
 Highland duuts are ill to bide ; 
 Highland swords are keen and sharp ; 
 Highland hands make awfu' wark— 
 Hence the cry, when danger 's near, 
 Gie 's " nane but Highland bonnets here." 
 
 Be 't peaceful sport, or battle fray, 
 
 It makes nae odds, they 're foremost aye. 
 
 Wicht and stark, and true as steel, 
 
 Highland lads are kenned fu' weel. 
 
 On many a bloody field of fame, 
 
 They 've impressed their country's name. 
 
 Who leads the charge need never fear, 
 
 Wi' " nane but Highland bonnets here." 
 
54 
 
 CENTENNIAL ANNIVEESABY OF 
 
 Often has it roused our pride 
 
 To hear how Abercrombie died ; 
 
 And how Corunna's fatal shore 
 
 Was- baptised with the blood of Moore ; 
 
 How Quatre Bras and Waterloo, 
 
 The eclioes of the pibroch knew, 
 
 The bravest foe confessed a peer, 
 
 Wi' " nane but Highland bonnets here." 
 
 Nor does their ancient spirit flag, 
 
 For lyart veterans yet will brag. 
 
 How — at the Alma's fanaous fight — 
 
 They crossed the river^ scaled the height, 
 
 And never faltered — not a man. 
 
 When Colin Campbell led the van ; 
 
 But answered with a Highland cheer, 
 
 " Gie 's nane but Highland bonnets here !" 
 
 Even here, by Mississippi's strand. 
 
 We glory in our Fatherland. 
 
 Surrounded by the fremit folk, 
 
 We feel the fiery words he spoke ; 
 
 And, till we 're fairly fit to greet, 
 
 The stirring slogan we repeat. 
 
 (It's pride, not grief, that brings the tear,) 
 
 " Gie 's nane but Highland bonnets here !" 
 
 Sentiments, complimentary to the OfiScers of the meeting, 
 together with the Committee of Arrangements, and, also, to 
 Mr. R. Menzies, were all given with three times three, and 
 " He 's a Right Good Fellow." 
 
 The splendid entertainment provided by Messrs. Kean & 
 Rice, of the Newhall, and the ample accommodations which 
 they had furnished for the occasion, drew forth, as they de- 
 served, the highest encomiums and cheers when toasted. 
 
 In accordance with the simple, but touching custom of all 
 Scotch social gatherings, the whole company now stood up, 
 and, joining hands around the tables, united in that song which 
 Burns wrote, not for Scotland alone, but for the whole world — 
 "AuiiD Lang Syne." 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP ROBERT BURNS. 55 
 
 THE BIRTH OF BURNS. 
 
 The following anonymous Poem was sent to the Secretary of 
 the Burns' Club, as a contribution to the Centennial Festival, 
 and is now published with the procftcdings : 
 
 One hundred years ago this night, 
 Auld Scotia busk'd in snawy white, 
 Her sparkin' een, like maiden's bright 
 
 In youthfu- bloom, 
 Summon'd a' the' Choirs of Light 
 
 To bonnie Doon. 
 
 Celestial fires were kindled on 
 Olympus, and Mount Helicon, 
 And minstrelsy before ne'er known 
 
 To sons of earth, 
 Resounded sweet from zone to zone 
 
 At Burns' birth. 
 
 The Sacred Nine, and Loves, and Graces, 
 Frae a' the world, wi' smiling faces. 
 To Coila came, an' took their places 
 
 To wait the word, 
 To kiss and press in fond embraces 
 
 The infant Bard. 
 
 Auld Scotia stood wi' queenly grace, 
 Wi' ne'er a wrinkle in her face 
 A picture o' true happiness 
 
 Waiting her turn ; 
 Then in an ecstacy of bliss 
 
 She clasped the bairn. 
 
 With soul elate, she to the skies 
 Presented him ; while holy joys 
 Her bosom swell'd, she thankful cries 
 
 •' My prayer is heard : 
 Great Jove ! in glory's fount baptise 
 
 Fair Scotland's Bard," 
 
 Nae mair my heart wi' sorrow wrung 
 Shall weep, my harp untun'd, unstrung ; 
 My woods and streams they shall be sung, 
 
 And Scotland's praise 
 In every land, by every tongue. 
 
 In Burns' lays. 
 
 She bade her nymphs a feast prepare, 
 A banquet for the gods to share, 
 0' Scotland's richest, choicest fare, 
 
 A large supply ; 
 An' whiskey guid to drown dull care 
 
 An' heighten joy. 
 
Let whiskey rin like stream Permeases 
 Frae haggis' base as big 's Parnassus, 
 Alang its banks spread beds o' rashes 
 
 In bowers o' green, 
 Whar gods can drink and kiss the graces, 
 
 An' no be seen. 
 
 Cooks, bakers, butlers aid repair 
 Sir Bardie's blyflimeat to prepare ; 
 A feast o' fat things rich and rare, 
 
 An' whiskey toddy — 
 The king o' drinks — to drive dull care 
 
 E'en frae a godie. 
 
 The gods arrived in splendor bright. 
 
 Almost eclipsing Luna's light : 
 
 Their sacred haunts they left that night 
 
 Without a guard, 
 To share in Scotia's great deliglit 
 
 An' crown the Bard. 
 
 Apollo said, (as deity 
 
 And president of minstrelsy) 
 
 " Thou 'rt born to immortality ! 
 
 In every clime 
 Thy "birth ! a festival shall be 
 
 Till end o' Time." 
 
 The blessing given — with joyous faceS; 
 Link'd arm in arm, the gods and graces, 
 To banquet hall, wi' merry paces. 
 
 An' mony a smack, 
 Did haste to their respective places 
 
 To joke and crack. 
 
 On Haggis guid, plate after plate 
 They did their stomachs satiate ; 
 Then " Islay pure " did circulate, 
 
 An' wit an' mirth : 
 The gods did thus inaugurate 
 
 Great Burns' birth. 
 
 An' now weei plied wi' temptin' toddies 
 Till winkin' fou, these jolly godies 
 Had feelings maist like human bodies ; 
 
 An' ilka kiss 
 That orackin' fell on Muse's gabies 
 
 Bespak' their bliss. 
 
 The bagpipes skirl, an' fiddlestring 
 Made Scotland's hills and valleys ring ; 
 The graces danced the Highland Fling, 
 
 An' nane could see 
 Their fairy leg's elastic spring 
 
 Wi' sinless e'e. 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF ROBERT BURNS. 57 
 
 The gods themsel's were fascinated, 
 Yes ! some that ne'er had dissipated, 
 Wi' love and drink were sae inflated, 
 
 They 'd sell their power 
 To be wl" nymphs or gracie mated 
 
 A short half hour. 
 
 They kissed, they clasp'd, an' romp'd an' ranted, 
 An' skip'd, an' danc'd their ^heart's contented, 
 Till god and goddess gasp'd and panted ; 
 
 And then to rest 
 They sought the shady bowers enchanted 
 
 On love to feast. 
 
 The morning Herald's trumpet tone 
 Apprised the gods the night had flown ; 
 So rank an' file around the throne 
 
 Where Scotia sat, 
 " They pledg'd her an' her Poet son 
 
 In sparkling maut." 
 
 They toasted Scotland's honored name, 
 Exalted by her Bardie's fame, 
 Written by Jove on glory's fane 
 
 Above the sky ! 
 In splendor bright as when they came 
 
 They bade good bye. 
 
 Great Burns ! thy Birth we celebrate, 
 Thy peerless name commemorate ! 
 Thy name afresh we 'II consecrate ; 
 
 We '11 set apart 
 For thee this night, the chair of state 
 
 In every heart. 
 
 The Committee, since they commenced the preparation of 
 this Report of the Centennary in their own city, have witnessed, 
 with uumingled satisfaction, the enthusiasm with which the 
 memorable day has been hailed and celebrated throughout the 
 sister cities of their adopted laud, and the cordiality with 
 which all dialects of a common language have blended their 
 accents in honor of the Scottish Chief of Scotland's Poets. 
 
 Forever with the day of his nativity, when powers of the 
 earth are dust, and lone atoms of scepters or swords point to 
 unrecorded sepulchres — forever shall be recollected the unlost 
 
58 CENTENNIAL ANNIVEKSARY OF 
 
 shrines of his Birth and Burial Place. His muse can be 
 claimed by no foreign lineage, nor time steal His renown from 
 Scotland. "Wherever they meet on earth shall the Saxon say 
 to the Scot " he was born of your blood on our Mother Island, 
 and sang from the sweet banks of Ayr, his glorious theme in 
 both our tongues." We, too, at least may guard his tomb. 
 
 It only remains for the Committee to thank all those who 
 have assisted them by examining the proofs of speeches and 
 poems, and generally, everybody, for all kinds of good feeling 
 and good natured attentions. 
 
 The Milwaukee Daily News, in speaking of the Centennary, 
 and of those who aided in the festive ceremonies of the oc- 
 casion, thus says : 
 
 Among the pleasant results arising from the gathering at 
 the Newhall House, on the 25th, was the evidence it af- 
 forded of the skill and taste of our fellow citizens, who hail from 
 Scotland. On the wall, at each side of the President, hung 
 paintings, representing the Birth and Burial Places of Burns, 
 the handiwork of Mr. Andrew Kerr, and, although gotten 
 lip in a great hurry, they certainly proved him no common 
 artist. Behind the chair were portraits of the Bard, beauti- 
 fully wreathed with evergreens and flowers, conspicuous among 
 which was the " wee modest, crimson tipped flower," the daisy, 
 arranged by the hands of Messrs. Dunlap and Hislop, well 
 known to the lovers of the floral beauties of nature, as gar- 
 deners and florists. On the table, Mr. Alexander Brown 
 displayed his taste, the ornaments he produced being appro- 
 priate, and very much admired ; while before each guest was 
 the Bill of Pare, printed in colors and bronze, elegantly de- 
 signed and finely finished by Messrs. Andrew C. MuriSon 
 and James Kerr, both working in our Job Room, and which, 
 as a specimen of art, reflects the greatest credit upon those 
 gentlemen. These are all Scotchmen, and around the table 
 were many mechanics, who are to be found in all our work- 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OP KOBERT BURNS. 59 
 
 sbops, and many of them contributed, in no small degree, to 
 the pleasure of the occasion. It was mechanics who read the 
 poems, made several speeches, and sang many of the songs ; 
 and nowhere was the day celebrated, where outside aid was 
 less called upon. One little town, Montrose, in Forfarshire, 
 produced a Poet, a Painter, a Printer, and the only one present 
 wearing the Highland costume ; and it was established, be- 
 yond a doubt, that Scotland can furnish the material, in our 
 city, for getting up a celebration which compares favorably 
 with any, the proceedings of which have reached us. 
 

 
 v«b- 
 
 
 :/.'^>V <f,^^-S y.-^i-X 
 
 
 'bt-" 
 
 
 
 ^•^o 
 
 
 
 
 '^^^cy 
 
 * ^^ -His ' 
 
 "^^ ♦^ '.fife'- ^^ c/ 
 
 
 
 
 ': .^^^^^ V 
 
 
 X-Wf^'-'J^ V'^^o" \-^--/. 
 
>vl% 
 
 
 HECKMAN 
 
 BINDERY INC. 
 
 1985 
 
 N. MANCHESTER, 
 INDIANA 46962