I began to think that Scottish life was all light and no shadows,
and I began to doubt that beautiful book to which I have turned
again and again, always to find new beauties and fresh sources of
interest.
[In proposing the memory of the late Sir David Wilkie, Mr. Dickens
said:-]
LESS fortunate than the two gentlemen who have preceded me, it is
confided to me to mention a name which cannot be pronounced without
sorrow, a name in which Scotland had a great triumph, and which
England delighted to honour. One of the gifted of the earth has
passed away, as it were, yesterday; one who was devoted to his art,
and his art was nature – I mean David Wilkie. He was one who made
the cottage hearth a graceful thing – of whom it might truly be
said that he found “books in the running brooks,” and who has left
in all he did some breathing of the air which stirs the heather.
But however desirous to enlarge on his genius as an artist, I would
rather speak of him now as a friend who has gone from amongst us.
There is his deserted studio – the empty easel lying idly by – the
unfinished picture with its face turned to the wall, and there is
that bereaved sister, who loved him with an affection which death
cannot quench. He has left a name in fame clear as the bright sky;
he has filled our minds with memories pure as the blue waves which
roll over him. Let us hope that she who more than all others
mourns his loss, may learn to reflect that he died in the fulness
of his time, before age or sickness had dimmed his powers – and
that she may yet associate with feelings as calm and pleasant as we
do now the memory of Wilkie.
SPEECH: JANUARY, 1842.
[In presenting Captain Hewett, of the BRITANNIA, with a service of
plate on behalf of the passengers, Mr. Dickens addressed him as
follows:]
CAPTAIN HEWETT, – I am very proud and happy to have been selected
Page 7
Dickens, Charles – Speeches, Literary & Social
as the instrument of conveying to you the heartfelt thanks of my
fellow-passengers on board the ship entrusted to your charge, and
of entreating your acceptance of this trifling present. The
ingenious artists who work in silver do not always, I find, keep
their promises, even in Boston. I regret that, instead of two
goblets, which there should be here, there is, at present, only
one. The deficiency, however, will soon be supplied; and, when it
is, our little testimonial will be, so far, complete.
You are a sailor, Captain Hewett, in the truest sense of the word;
and the devoted admiration of the ladies, God bless them, is a
sailor’s first boast. I need not enlarge upon the honour they have
done you, I am sure, by their presence here. Judging of you by
myself, I am certain that the recollection of their beautiful faces
will cheer your lonely vigils upon the ocean for a long time to
come.
In all time to come, and in all your voyages upon the sea, I hope
you will have a thought for those who wish to live in your memory
by the help of these trifles. As they will often connect you with
the pleasure of those homes and fire sides from which they once
wandered, and which, but for you, they might never have regained,
so they trust that you will sometimes associate them with your
hours of festive enjoyment; and, that, when you drink from these
cups, you will feel that the draught is commended to your lips by
friends whose best wishes you have; and who earnestly and truly
hope for your success, happiness, and prosperity, in all the
undertakings of your life.
SPEECH: FEBRUARY 1842.
[At dinner given to Mr. Dickens by the young men of Boston. The
company consisted of about two hundred, among whom were George
Bancroft, Washington Allston, and Oliver Wendell Holmes. The toast
of “Health, happiness, and a hearty welcome to Charles Dickens,”
having been proposed by the chairman, Mr. Quincy, and received with