Now, sir, among all those who, coming from every country in Europe, have brought hither the qualities by which they are characterized at home, whether it be the firm and manly Englishman, the ardent and generous son of Erin, the polite and mercurial Frenchman, the sedate and industrious Hollander or German,—there is none who has proved a better citizen in his new home, than the punctual, intelligent, and conscientious Scot. We of New England ought to give you this credit, for both those who are disposed to pronounce our eulogy, and those who make merry with our foibles, ascribe to us pretty much the same merits and defects of character. I may say, therefore, though to this extent a party interested, yet with so much the greater claim to be believed sincere, that there is no people in Europe or America among whom the Scottish emigrant has reason to blush for his native land. You are not numerous here, sir. I am sorry for it; and I hardly know why it is so; for I suppose we should be unwilling, on either side, to acknowledge the validity of the reason which has sometimes been assigned for the fact, namely, that we Yankees are too canny for you.

Your society, sir, as the secretary, in his interesting report, has informed us, was founded near two hundred years ago. Scotland was then an independent kingdom. Not merely independent, she had, more than half a century before, sent her sovereign to sit upon the throne of the sister realms. Although in the particular year in which the society was established, in 1657, the monarch of his proscribed lineage was, perhaps like some of your founders, wandering in foreign lands, dependent on the stranger for protection, yet three years had scarcely elapsed, before he was triumphantly restored. At the close of the seventeenth century, however, the separate sovereignty of Scotland was merged in the union of the kingdoms; in consequence of the superior wealth and numbers of the English, the local sceptre of the ancient monarchy departed forever; and the crown of Bruce was locked up in a dusty chest in Holyrood-house, never more to be drawn forth, but as an object of antiquarian curiosity, or as a melancholy show.

But let not the patriotic son of Scotland lament the change. The sceptre of mind can never pass away; she has won for her brows a diadem, whose lustre can never be obscured. Not to speak of the worthies of ages long past, of the Knoxes, the Buchanans, and the early minstrels of the border, - the land of your fathers, sir, since it ceased to be a separate kingdom, has, through the intellect of her gifted sons, acquired a supremacy over the minds of men more extensive and more enduring than that of Alexander or Augustus. It would be impossible to enumerate them all, the Blairs of the last generation, the Chalmerses of this; the Robertsons and Humes; the Smiths, the Reids, the Stewarts, the Browns; the Homes, the Mackenzies, the Mackintoshes, the Broughams, the Jeffreys, with their distinguished compeers, both in physical and moral science. The Marys and the Elizabeths, the Jameses and the Charleses, will be forgotten before these names will perish from the memory of men. And when I add to them those other illustrious names, - Burns, Campbell, Byron, and Scott, - may I not truly say, sir, that the throne and the sceptre of England will crumble into dust like those of Scotland, and Windsor Castle and Westminster Abbey will lie in ruins, as poor and desolate as those of Scone and Iona, before the lords of Scottish song shall cease to reign in the hearts of men. For myself, sir, I confess that I love Scotland. I have reason to do so. I have trod the soil of the

"Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood."

I have looked up to the cloud-capt summit of Ben Lomond; have glided among the fairy islets of Loch Katrine; and from the battlements of Stirling Castle have beheld the links of Forth sparkling in the morning sun. I have done more; I have tasted that generous hospitality of Scotland, which her majesty's consul has so justly commemorated; I have held converse with her most eminent sons; I have made my pilgrimage to Melrose Abbey, in company with that modern magician, who, mightier than the magician of old, that sleeps beneath the marble floor of its chancel, has hung the garlands

of immortal poesy upon its shattered arches, and made its moss-clad ruins a shrine, to be visited by the votary of the muse from the remotest corners of the earth, to the end of time. Yes, sir, musing as I did, in my youth, over the sepulchre of the wizard, once pointed out by the bloody stain of the cross and the image of the archangel, — standing within that consecrated enclosure, under the friendly guidance of him whose genius has made it holy ground, while every nerve within me thrilled with excitement, my fancy kindled with the inspiration of the spot. I seemed to behold, not the vision so magnificently described by the minstrel, — the light which, as the tomb was opened,

-"broke forth so gloriously,

Streamed upward to the chancel roof,
And through the galleries far aloof,” -

but I could fancy that I beheld, with sensible perception, the brighter light which had broken forth from the master mind; which had streamed from his illumined page all-gloriously upward, above the pinnacles of worldly grandeur, till it mingled its equal beams with that of the brightest constellations in the intellectual firmament of England.

In taking my seat, sir, I beg leave to renew my thanks for the honor done me, and to propose as a toast, THE SCOTS' CHARITABLE SOCIETY, THE THE INSTITUTION, AND THE WELFARE OF EACH OF ITS MEM

PROSPERITY

OF

BERS.

JOHN LOWELL. JUN.*

THE Occasion of our meeting, at this time, is of a character not less unusual than interesting. By the munificence of the late Mr John Lowell, Jun., a testamentary provision was made for the establishment of regular courses of public lectures, upon the most important branches of natural and moral science, to be annually delivered in the city of Boston. The sum generously set apart by him for this purpose, and amounting nearly to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, is, with the exception of the bequest of the late Mr Girard of Philadelphia, the largest, if I mistake not, which has ever been appropriated in this country, by a private individual, for the endowment of any literary institution. The idea of a foundation of this kind, on which, unconnected with any place of education, provision is made, in the midst of a large commercial population, for annual courses of instruction by public lectures, to be delivered gratuitously to all who choose to attend them, as far as it is practicable within our largest halls, is, I believe, original with Mr Lowell. I am not aware that, among all the munificent establishments of Europe, there is any thing of this description upon a large scale; and I cannot but regard it as a conception eminently adapted to the character and wants of our community, and promising to be as beneficial as it is original and generous.

Instruction by public lectures has greatly prevailed of late years, and obtained a high degree of favor in this and other parts of the United States. It has been ascertained, that

* This Memoir of Mr John Lowell, Jun., was delivered as the introduction to the lectures on his foundation, in the Odeon, 31st December, 1839, and repeated in the Marlborough Chapel, 2d January, 1840.

twenty-six courses were delivered in Boston during the last season, not including those which consisted of less than eight lectures; many of them by lecturers amply qualified to afford instruction and rational entertainment to an intelligent audience. These lectures, it is calculated, were attended, in the aggregate, by about thirteen thousand five hundred persons, at an expense of less than twelve thousand dollars. This is, probably, a greater number of lectures than was ever delivered in any previous year; but the number of courses has been steadily increasing, from the time of their first commencement, on the present footing, about twenty years ago.* It is not easy to conceive of any plan, by which provision could be made for the innocent and profitable employment of a part of the leisure time of so large a portion of the community, at so small an expense.

These facts sufficiently show the vast importance, as well as the popularity, of this form of public instruction, and they naturally lead to the question, whether it does not admit of improvement in respect to the character of the lectures, and the basis on which they are delivered. In answer to this inquiry, it readily suggests itself, that, notwithstanding the great and unquestioned benefit which must accrue to the community, from the delivery of so large a number of lectures on scientific and literary subjects to voluntary audiences of both sexes, there are two points, in which the system is evidently defective. In the first place, the means of the institutions, under whose auspices most of the public lectures are delivered, are inadequate to hold out a liberal and certain reward to men of talent and learning, for the preparation of well-digested and systematic courses. The compensation is necessarily limited to a moderate fee, paid from the proceeds of the subscription to the courses. A necessary consequence is, that the greater part of the lectures are miscellaneous essays, delivered by different persons, without reference

Courses of botanical lectures were delivered in Boston by Professors Peck and Bigelow, in the year 1813, and of chemical lectures by Dr Gorham, about the same time. The statement of the number of lectures in 1839, is derived from the last annual report of the Secretary of the Board of Education, p. 74.