It Is Now Over
Twenty Years Since We Were Together At College, And The Same Tastes
Which Pleased Us Then Govern Us Now.
The same destiny which led us
towards the bar guided us also on the paths of literature.
The speaker
here improvised a magnificent address to the genius of French-Canadian
letters. He alluded to the first pages of Canadian history written in
the blood of martyrs, thus giving to the Canadian people a literature
of heroes. The speaker then traced the changeful epochs from the days
of the soldiers of the sword to the warriors of the pen, and he drew
forth loud applause as he alluded to the brave polemists who traced
their literary endeavors in the brave work of defending their country
and redeeming its liberties. In quoting Sir Geo. Cartier's well known
line, "O Canada, my country and my love," ("O Canada, mon pays, mes
amours,") the eloquent orator elicited the warm and hearty applause of
the assemblage. From the troublous days of 1837 to the present moment,
Mr. Lemay reviewed the various efforts at literary renown of the
French Canadian people, and concluded one of the finest speeches of
the evening amidst the tumultuous applause of his sympathising
auditors.
The next toast was that of the Literary and Historical Society and of
the Institut Canadien of Quebec.
Mr. J. M. LeMoine, in replying to the first part of the toast said: -
GENTLEMEN, - In the name of the Literary and Historical Society of
Quebec, I thank you cordially for the health just proposed - As the
President of a society numbering close on 400 members, who though
diverse in creed and language, are united for one common object - the
promotion of culture and science and the encouragement of historical
studies, - I cannot help feeling I stand here somehow in the character
of a representative man. In tendering a welcome to Mr. Frechette, our
honoured guest, I can add but little to the sentiments conveyed in the
resolution adopted at our last meeting and which you have heard read.
In presence of so many distinguished persons, several of whom have
made their mark, at the Bar - or on the Bench - the forum - in
literature - in the bank parlor or in the counting house, - with so many
fluent speakers here present and prepared to applaud, with all the
graces of oratory and fervour of patriotism, - the distinction
conferred on French Canada, by the highest literary tribunal in
France - convinced myself of the honour which Mr. Frechette's laurels
must confer on this ancient and picturesque Province of Quebec, with
its glorious though yet unrevealed destinies, I feel proud as a
Canadian in standing here, the bearer even of a solitary rosebud for
the fragrant bouquet, which a grateful country offers this
night to its gifted child. Alas! had not the relentless hand [32] of
death - had not a self-imposed fate, darker even than death, removed
from our midst, another "mind pregnant with celestial fire," Canada
this night might possibly have counted two laurel-crowned poets - Louis
Honore Frechette and Octave Cremazie.
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