moment when he stood the crowned victor in the Academy of France. We have known our guest as a lawyer, journalist and member of Parliament, and have always admired his wonderful faculties, ever ready as he was to promote the welfare of his friends. His large heart contributed to pave the way to success, for, undoubted though his talents are, his winning manners won for him an ever-growing popularity, and we may affirm that, if he had traducers, he had, on the other hand, a host of friends. Traducers always follow the wake of a literary man, and they resemble the creeping things which we suffer in our gardens, because their existence can lead to no effectual harm. I may have occupied your time at too great length in treating of Mr. Fréchette as a friend. Allow me now, however, for a few moments, to speak of his success from a patriotic point of view. As French-Canadians, we are proud of our Laureate, and happy to see him in our midst this evening. In crowning our distinguished poet, the French Academy has given a splendid recognition to Canadian literature in the great Republic of Letters. Our Laureate is a French-Canadian, but our fellow-citizens of British origin have joined with us in this manifestation of our joy, and through their press, as at such gatherings as this, they have spontaneously recognized his talent, thus showing their spirit of justice and their enlightened patriotism. Party politics have ceased their discordant cries to join unanimously in honoring our Laureate, and this is a spectacle of consolation to the country. No commentary is required on this expression of our joy. It is, in itself, the most eloquent of proofs that the citizens of Quebec, as well as those of Montreal, in giving this festival to Mr. Fréchette, have invited all Canadians, in the largest acceptation of the word, to do him honour. In concluding, as I know you are anxious to hear him address you this evening, permit me to make a comparison. One of the most distinguished of modern poets, Alfred de Musset, said in a moment of despair:-- "J'ai perdu ma force, et ma vie, Et mes amis, et ma gaîté: J'ai perdu jusqu'à la fierté Qui faisait croire à mon génie." "'I have lost my strength and my life, my friends and my gayety, almost my very pride, which made me believe in my genius.' We may say to Mr. Fréchette, as an offset to this cry of despair from one of his elder poetic brethren: 'Courage! You have strength and life! More friends than ever! An enthusiasm of gayety which is fathomless! March on and sing! We are proud of you, and we believe in your genius, crowned, as it is, by the highest literary tribunal in the world--that of the Forty Immortals!' (Cheers.)