The Sun. — London, England, 1860-04-18 00:00:00

INSTALLATION OF MR. GLADSTONE AT EDINBURGH. The installation of Mr. Gladstone as rector of the Edinburgh University took place on Monday in the Music Hall of that city, with considerable cere mony, and in presence of a large body of students, together with such of the general public as were fortunate enough to secure tickets of admission. Vice-Chancellor and Principal Sir David Brewster, by virtu• of his office, presided on the occasion, and the Divinity Professor opened the proceedings by prayer. In accordance with a resolution agreed to by the Senatus, the honorary degree of LL.D. was then conferred on the following gentlemen distinguished in science and literature I—The Right Hon• W. E• Gladstone, the Right Hon. the Lord Justice -Gene ral, the Hon. Lord Neaves, the Solicitor-General , the Very Rev. Dean Ramsay, Principal Forbes, and the Rev. H. L, Mansel, Professor of Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy, Oxford. Mr. David Hall, who represented the students, then formally presented the newly installed rector to the Vice-Chancellor. - Mr. GLADSTONE then came forward to deliver his inaugural address. The ladies in the gal leries waved their handkerchiefs, while the whole audience rose and cheered with the utmost enthusiasm. On the subsiding of these demonstra tions, Mr. Gladstone proceeded as follows :—Prin cipal, Professors, and Students of the University of Edinburgh—l cannot estimate lightly the occasion on which I meet you, especially as it regards the younger and the larger part of my academical au dience. The franchise which you have exercised in my favour is itself of a nature to draw attention: for the legislature of our own day has by a new deliberative act, invested you, the youngest mem bers of the university, with a definite and not in considerable influence in the formation of that court which is to exercise, upon appeal, the highest control over its proceedings. This is a measure which would hardly have been adopted in any land other than our own. Yet it is also one in the best sense agreeable to the spirit of our own country and of its institutions ; for I think it is eminently British to admit the voice of the governed in the choice of governors—to seek, through diversity of elements, for unity and harmony of result, and to train men for the discharge of manly duties by let ting them begin their exercise betimes. You have chosen, gentlemen, as your representative in the University Court, one widely enough separated from you in the scale of years ; one to whom much of that is past which to you is as yet future. It is fitting then that he should speak to you on such an occasion of that which unites us together, namely, the work of the university, as a great organ of preparation for after life, and that in treat ing of what constitutes the great bond between us, he should desire and endeavour to assist in arming you, as far as he may, for the efforts and trials of your career. Subject to certain cycles of partial revolution, it is true that, as in the material so in the moral world, every generation of man is a la bourer for that which succeeds it, and makes an addition to that great sum total of achieved results, which may, in commercial phrase, be called the ca pital of the race. Of all the conditions of :exist ence in which man differs from the brutes there is not one of greater moment than this, that each one of them commences life as if he were the first of a species, whereas man inherits largely from those who have gone before. How largely none of us can say ; but my belief is that, as years gather more and more upon you, you will estimate more and more highly your debt to preceding ages. If, on the one hand, that debt is capable of being ex aggerated or misapprehended, if arguments are sometimes strangely used which would imply that because they had done much we ought to do no thing more, yet,on the other hand, it is no less true that the obligation is one so vast and manifold that it can never as a whole be adequately measured. It is not only in possessions, available for use, en. joyment, and security ; it is not only in language. laws, institutions, arts, religion ; it is not only in what we have, but in what we are. For, as cha racter is forme 1 by the action and reaction of the human being and the circumstances in which he lives, it follows that, as those circumstances vary, he alters too, and he transmits a modified—it ought to be also an enlarged and expanding—nature on wards in his turn to his posterity, under that mys terious law which establishes between every gene ration and its predecessors a moral as well as phy sical association. In ye hat degree this process is marred, on the one hand, by the perversity and by the infirmity of man, or restored and extended, on the other, by the remedial provisions of the Divine mercy, this is not th 3 place to inquire. The pro gress of mankind is upon the whole a chequered and an intercepted progress, and even where it is full-formed, still, just as in the individual youth has charms that maturity under an inexorable law must lose, so the earlier ages of the world will ever con tinue to delight and instruct us by beauties that are exclusively or peculiarly their own. Again, it would seem as though this progress—and here is a darkening and a humbling thought—were a pro. gress of mankind and not of the individual man ; for it seems to be quite clear that whatever be the comparative greatness of the race now and in its infant or early stages, what may be called the normal speci mens,so far as they have been made known to us either through external form or through the works of the intellect, have tended rather to dwindle, or at least to diminish, than to grow in the highest elements of greatness. But the exceptions at which these re marks have glanced neither destroy or materially weaken th e p ro f ound moment of the broad and uni versal canon, that every generation of men, as they traverse the vale of life are bound t o accumu l ate, and in divers manners do accumulate new treasures for the race, and l eave the world richer on their de parture, for the advantage of their descendant s , than on their entrance they them se l ves had found it. Of the mental portion of this treasure no small part is stored, and of the continuous work I have described no small part is performed by universiti es , w h ich have been, I venture to say, entitled to rank among the greater lights and glories of Christendom. (Applause.) It is, I believe, a fact, and if so it is a fact highly instructive and suggestive, that the - university as such is a Christian institution. The Greeks, indeed, had the very largest ideas upon the training of man, and produced specimens of our kind with gifts that have never been surpassed. But the nature of man, such as they knew it, was scarcely at all developed, nay it was maimed, in its supreme capacity—in its relations towards God. Hence, as in the visions of the Prophet, so upon the roll of history, the imposing fabrics of ancient civi lisation never have endured. (Applause.) Greece has bequeathed to us her ever-living tongue and the immortal productions of her intellect; Rome made ready for Christendom the elements of polity and law ; but the brilliant assemblage of endowments which constitutes civilisation, having no root in itself, could not brook the shocks of time and vicis situde ; it came and it went; it was seen and it was gone— " riunc tantum terris ostendent f'ata; neque ultra Esse sinmt." I Ve now watch, gentlemen, with a tremblin g h o p e, the which course of that lat er an d Ch r i st i an c i v ili sat i on i arose out of the ashes of the old heathen world, and ask ourselves whether, like the Gos pd. itself, that which the Gospel has wrought beyovd itself in the manners arts, laws, and in stitutians of men is in such ` that the g a t es o f h e ll such manner and d egree salted with perp etual shall not pi.evail against it ' 7 Will civilisati on , which was springing upwards fro m the days of Charlemagne, and which now, over the face of Europe and America, seems to present to us be wildering conflict the mingled sign s o f decrev l itu n dv and of vigour, perish like its older typ es , and, like I them, be known thereafter only in its frag men t s; or does it bear a charmed life, and will it give shacip from the heat and shelter from the storm to an generations of man ? In any answer to such question it would perhaps be easier to say what !maid not than what would be involved. But some things we may observe, which may be among the materials o`', - a reply. The arts of war are now so allied with those of peace that barbarism, once so terrible, is reduced to physical impotence; and what civili sed man has had the wit to create, he has also the strength to defend. Thus one grand destructive agency is paralysed. Time, indeed, is the great destroyer—but his power, too, is greatly neutralised by printing, by commerce, which lays the foundations of friendship among nations, by the ease of communication, which binds men to gether, by that diffusion of intelligen ce which mul tiplies the natural guardians of civilisation. These are perhaps not merely isolated phenomena. Per haps they are but witnesses,andb which a few among many witnesses, to the vast change hichhasbeen wrought since the advent of our turotorthdeitnruththe that, stat apart state of nia ny sn r re eeh relations to his Maker, the fitful efforts of mankind must needs be worsted from 13 erh sound as and th e in the conflict with chance and change; but that, when by the dispensation of Christianity the order of our moral nature was restored, when the rightful King had once more taken his place upon his throne, then, indeed, civilisation might come to have a meaning and a vitality such as had before been denied it. Then at length it had obtained the key to all the mysteries of the nature of man, to all the anomalies of its condition. Then it had obtained the ground-plan of that nature in all its fulness, which before had been known only in remnants or in fragments—fragments of which, even as now in the toppling remains of some ancient church or castle—the true grandeur and the ethereal beauty were even the more con spicuous because of the surrounding ruins—(ap plause)—but fragments still, and fragments only, until, by the bringing of life and immortality to light, the parts of our nature were reunited, its har mony was re-established, the riddle of life, hereto fore unsolved, was at length read as a discipline, and so obtained its just interpretation. All that had before seemed idle conflict, wasted energy, barren effort, was seen to be but the preparation for a glorious future ; and death itself, instead of extin guishing the last hopes of man, became the means and the pledge of his perfection. (Applause.) It was surely meet that a religious aiming at so much on our behalf should, in its historical development, provide an apparatus of subsidiary means for the attainment of its noble end far beyond what man in earlier days had dreamed of. To some of the particular organs formed in this apparatus for car rying man upwards and onwards to the source of his being, I have already adverted. Read in the light of these ideas the appearance of the university among the great institutions of Christian civilisa tion is a phenomenon of no common interest. Let us see whether, itself among the historical results of Christianity, it does not vindicate its origin, and repay, so to speak, the debt of its birth, by the ser vice that it renders to the great work of human cultivation. (Applause.) I do not enter into the question from what source the university etymolo gically derives its name. At the very least, it is a name most aptly symbolising the purpose for which the thing itself exists. For the work of the uni versity as such covers the whole field of know ledge, human and divine ; the whole field of time, in binding together successive generations as they pass in the prosecution of their common destiny ; aid ing each to sow its proper seed and to reap its proper harvest from what has been sown before ; storing up into its own treasure-house the spoils of every new venture in the domain of mental enterprise, and ever binding the present to pay over to the future an acknowledgment at least of the debt which for itself it owes the past. If the work of improvement in human society under Christian in fluences be a continuous and progressive work, then we can well conceive why the king's daughter, fore shadowed in Holy Writ, has counted the university among her handmaids. If, apart from what may be the counsels of Providence as to ultimate success, it lay essentially in the nature of Christianity that it should aim at nothing less than the entire regene ration of human nature and society, such a concep tion as that of the university was surely her appro priate ally. Think as we will upon the movement of man's life and the course of his destiny, there is a fit association, and a nob!e and lofty harmony, be tween the greatest gift of the Almighty to our race on the one hand, and the subordinate but momen tous ministries of those chief institutions of learn ing and education, the business of one among which has gathered us to-day. (Applause.) The idea of the university, as we find it historically presented to us in the middle age, was to methodise, perpetuate, and apply all knowledge which existed, and to adopt and take up unto itself every new branch as it came successively into existence. These various kinds of knowledge were applied for the various uses of life, such as the time apprehended them. But the great truth was always held, and always kept in the centre of the system, that Man himself is the crowning wonder of creation ; that the study of his nature is the noblest study that the world affords; and that to his advancement and improvement all undertak ings, all professions, all arts, all knowledge, all in stitutions are subordinated, as means and instru ments to their end. The old and established prin ciple was that the university had its base in the faculty of arts— Universitas fundata est in artibus. It was not meant by this maxim that the faculty of arts was to have precedence over all other faculties, for this honour was naturally and justly accorded to theology; both, we may suppose, because of the dignity of its subject-matter, which well may place it at the head of all human knowledge, and because it was, so to speak, in possession of the ground, and in the exercise of very powerful influence, at the period when the less organised institutions for teaching . began to develop themselves into their final form of universities. But the university was founded in the principle of universal culture, and the name Arts was intended to embrace every description of knowledge that, rising above mere handicraft, could contribute to train the mind and faculties of man. To say, then, that the university was founded in arts was to assert the universality of its work. The assertion was not less true, nor less far-sighted, be cause those who first made it may not have been conscious of its comprehending more than the studies of the trivium and quadrivium—which included m g r e a t m r y m , a a r n , dr astronomy.hetoric,log i c, This catalogue arithmetic, is indeed brief o ne , as compared with the countless branche a branches of modern study ; yet within its narrow bounds it contains in principle, at the least, the philosophy of speech, the philosophy of the mind, the mathema tical sciences, pure and mi xe d, an d t h e fine arts. It is both more easy and more rational, all circum stances taken into view, to admire the vastness of the conception of the university, than to wonder that it was at first but partially unfolded and ap plied. The sincerity, the sagacity, the energy of purpose with which the old universities were de signed and organised may be discerned, as in other ways, so by the progressive expression of their studies. The Roman law, after remaining lon g almost forgotten, became known anew to Europe ; and, as it grew to be a study, the university pro vided for it with their faculty of laws ; and with those degrees, principal and professors, which call this day for my grateful appreciation. (Cheers.) Again, when the final triumph of barbarism at Con stantinople compelled Greek learning to seek a home in the west, provision began to be made forthwith in universities fe7r its reception. I think my distin guished brother, if I may presume to call him so (Professor Mansel), could tell us that one of the first of these foundations was made in the very college at Oxford which he himself adorns. (Applause.) And the study of which Greek learning is the main and most fruitful, as well as the most arduous part, made its way under the well deserved name of humanity, to the very head of the faculty of arts. When in all physical science man, guided in no small degree by our own illustrious Bacon, became content (in Bacon's language) to acknowledge him self only the servant and interpreter of nature, and to walk in the paths of patient observation, the ground was laid for that faculty of medicine which has attained in the University of Edinburgh to a distinction destined I hope to be as long lived as it is without d on bt ex t raor di nary . (A pp l ause .) W e can hardly expect that human institutions should, with• out limit of time, retain the flexible and elastic tis sues of their youth ; and universities in particular, as they have grows old and great, have come to in terlace at many points with the interests and con cerns of that outer world which has but little sym pathy with their proper work ; or they might have displayed at this day an organisation as complete, relatively to the present state of knowledge and THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, APRIL 18, 1860. inquiry, as was that which they possessed some centuries ago. The older history of the universities of Europe not only presents many features of the utmost interest, but upon the whole inspires satis faction, and challenges praise from the impartial observer. I might detain you long upon the various kinds of good they did, and I might search long without discovering any characteristic evils to set down against it. What the castle was to the feudal baron, what the guild was to the infant middle class, they were to knowledge and to mental free dom, nor was it only that from them local culture received local shelter, and enjoyed through them an immunity from the assaults of barbarism in its vici nity, they established, so to speak, a telegraph for the mind; and all the elements of intellectual cul ture scattered throughout Europe were brought by them into near communion. Without a visible head or a coercive law, or a perilous tendency to aggres sion, they did for the mind of man what the unity of the Roman Church aimed at doing for his soul. They did it by the strong sympathy of an inward life, and by a common interest and impulse, almost from their nature incapable of being directed to perverse or dangerous ends. Indeed, it was not in their nature to supply the materials of any combination formidable to other social powers act ing each in its proper sphere, for they were on every side watched by jealous interests, and kept at once in check and in activity by competition. 'I he monasteries for the church, and the legal and medi cal professions, with their special establishments of education, as they were matured in after times, prevented an undue ascendancy; while in these seats alone there was supplied that good preserva tion against excess and disorder that human know ledge was in them regarded as a whole, and its various branches had, from this very neighbour hood, better dispositions of their proper provinces and of their mutual relations. In whatever light we view them, there was a completeness in the idea and work of universities, in proportion as their proper development was attained, which may well excite our wonder, They aimed alike, as we have seen, at the preservation of all old learning, and at the appropriation of all new. They bound them selves to prosecute alike those studies which fit men for the professions and the daily needs of life, and those which terminate upon man himself, whe ther by the investigation of truth or by the pursuit of refinement. They bore, and indeed they still bear, a character at once conservative and progres sive. If not uniformly, yet in general, their influ ence tended to mitigate extreme opinions. The Papal power, for example, knew no more formid able curb than the great University of Paris, and in England it was the special privilege of Oxford to rear up many centuries ago very eminent men of the class who have been well described by a German writer as Reformers before the Reformation. I speak now of men of action ; but in both of the universities I have named—and they are, I think, the two placed by Huber at the head of all the northern universities there were also reared many men of the first order in power of thought, who discussed even the highest subjects with a freedom as well as a force much beyond what has been tolerated in the Latin Church since the alarm and shock of the Reformation. Of all these, the best known name to modern ears is Abelard ; for it is associated with a roman tic tale of passion, which some and even some famous writers have not thought it beneath them to degrade. But quite apart from the profound and sad interest and the warning lessons of his history, he was a man that gave to the human mind one of those enduring impulses whose effects remain long after their source has been forgotten, and influence the course of!thought, and through thought of action, after many generations. Univer sities were, in truth, a great mediating power be tween the high and the low, between the old and the new, between speculation and action, between authority and freedom. Of these last words, in their application to the political sphere, modern history, and the experience of our own time, afford abundant exemplification. In countries whieh enjoy political liberty the universities are usually firm supports of the established order of things ; but in countries under absolute government they acquire a bias towards innovation. Some excess may be noted in these tendencies, but in the main they beer witness against greater and more pernicious ex cesses. To take instances—the University of Edin burgh did not very easily accommo late it elf to the Revolution of 1688 ; it was long in the eighteenth century before Cambridge returned Whig represen tatives to Parliament; and I believe the very latest of the Jacobite risings and riots occurred in Oxford. On the other hand, in some continental countries it has been the practice during the present century, when the political horizon threatened at once to close the universities as the probable centres of agi tation—a proceeding so strange, according to our ideas and experience, that the fact may sound hardly credible ; and within the last few weeks we may all have seen notices in the public journals of move ments in the University of Rome itself adverse to the Pontifical Government. It is in itself deeply interesting, and it should augment our thankfulness for the ample liberties we now enjoy, to trace them back to their cradle. At one time we find nobles, at another country gentlemen, at another bur gesses, engaged in the struggle against arbitrary power ; but nowhere in the ancient history of this country is more deeply engraven her uncon querable love of freedom than in the constitution and history of her universities. Each of them, as a brotherhood, bound together by the noble bonds of learning, was a standing and living protest against the domination of mere wealth and of force in all their forms ; and they strengthened themselves for their conflict by the freedom of their arrangements, both of teaching and of discipline. As respects teaching, I neither define nor dispute the changes that the altered conditions of modern society may have required; but I think thereis no doubt that in proportion as we can give a just freedom to teach ing, by introducing into it the element of a whole some competition. do we approach more closely to the primitive spirit and system of universities. As to discipline, we may read the aversion of our fore flthers to all slavish formalkm in the personal free dom which has been allowe to students—in that curious distribution of them into nations which ap pears to have aimed at a system of self-government combined with pupilage—in the occasional dangers; sometimes for the moment serious enough, to the public peace—(loud cheers)—which occurred from time to time—and lastly, lot me say in those suf frages which have so long been enjoyed in Scotland, and which have been extended to you by authority of Parliament. It is indeed a fashion with some to ridicule that method of disputation which was used for testing talents and acquirements. I demur to the propriety of the proceeding. It might be as just to ridicule the clumsiness of their weapons or their tools. These disputations were clumsy weapons; but the question after all is, how did the men use ,hem ; let us confess, the defect was more than made good by the zeal with which in those times learn ing was pursued ; their true test i s i n th e capacity and vigour which they gave to the mind, than and this ' trial they can w e ll a bid e . Th e sketch which I have endeavoured to gi ve , though longer could wish, yet, touching as it does, subjecta .I of vast and varied interest is, I admit, both slight and general, and wou ld requ i re much adaptation i it is e makedetai e l as t e o ntiallya it exactly picture soufit the each P past. Jam But nova progenies cal° demittitur alto. The simpl forms into which society was cast at the time when universities were equal to their work, have given place to a more extended and elaborate organisa tion, with great l y multiplied wants • and the very same state of society which now makes immensely enlarged demands on its . establishments of learning saunpdpryllineagantditohnthehomases. l f i o k r ew th ise reduced the means of t o energy, ooi sas opportunities i o ze f s a o tt f ai t n a i l n e g nt e a v n ei d i sal fortune life now abound, have' bb lv d hich the outer walks of emolu ments which science and learninghownthoeffmerodwesitthin the i p n r g e e t i o n n et e s o o f of m u i n n i d ve w rs i i t t h ies r , e 8 altered the prevail. respect to knowledge, and for of those who own sake, have disposed the overwhelming seek for education, to seek it not in : w a n t: r d rn there but for the sake simply of its Aa b tm e t a ai r de i hs n r tm g a it e s the pro ofefssrioovnesraenndeep, u g r r s a u t i i t t s u o d f e, lif a e n . d glow discontent with the existing universities, a sense that they do not perform all their work. Part of this discontent is exacting and unreasonable; a - 1 t her part of it is justified b y a com parison of means, n which all or some of them possess , with their per formances, and ought to be met, and to be removed. Rut besides the two forms of discontent I have named, there is a third, which is neither irrational like the first, nor yet remediable like the second. There must always be, especially in the most lumi nous and the most energetic minds, a sense of defi ciency which we may properly call discontent in regard to the shortcomings of universities when they are put to the test of measurement beside the abstract and lofty standard supplied by their con ception, their aim, and their older history. The truth is that that standard is one which surpasses human wit to reach, especially in a period marked, as is this of ours, by a restless act ivit y of the human spirit. For let us remember that is the proper work of universities, could they but perform it, while they guard and cultivate all ancient truth, to keep themselves in the foremost rank of modern discovery, to har monise continually the inherited with the ac quired wealth of mankind, and to give a char ter to freedom of discussion, while they maintain the reasonable limits of the domain of tradition and of authority. The question how far endowments for education are to be derived is beset with pecu liar difficulty. When they are small and remote from public observation they tend rapidly to tor por. They are admirable where they come in aid of a good will already existing, but where the good will does not exist beforehand they are as likely to stifle as to stimulate its growth. They make a high cultivation accessible to the youth who deserves it, and who could not otherwise attain his worthy and noble end; on the other hand, they remove the spur by which Providence neutralises the indolence of man, and moves him to supply his wants. If the teacher, when unendowed, may be constrained to forego all high training for students, and to pro vide only for their lower and more immediate de mands ; on the other hand, the teacher, when en dowed, and in so far as he is endowed, is deprived of the aid which personal interest and private ne cessities can lend to the sense of duty, and he may be tempted to neglect or to minister but feebly to the culture of his pupils, either in its higher or in its lower sense. And it is never to be forgotten that amidst all the kinds of exertion incident to our human state, there is none more arduous, none more exhausting, than the work of teaching worthily performed. Some men, indeed, possess in this de partment a princely gift, which operates like a charm upon the young, and they follow such an one as soldiers follow their leader when he waves the banner of their native land before their eyes. (Cheers.) But such men are rare; they are not less rare than are great men in any other work of life. Speaking generally, the work of teaching is, even when pursued with the whole heart, even when felt to be an absorbing work, but moderately successful ; while ho who teaches with half his heart does not really teach at all. There are, however, considerations which tell on the other side. The solidity of establishments founded on old endowments supplies a basis on which there are gradually formed a mass of continuous traditions, always powerful and gene rally noble ; and the very name of them, as it is handed on from generation to generation, becomes a watchword at once of affectionate remembrances and of lofty aspirations. They lay hold of the young by those properties which are the finest characteristics of youth ; and in our happy country the boy, when be is enrolled as a member of one of these institutions, feels that he is admitted to a share in a great inheritance, and instinctively burns to be worthy of the badge he has assumed. (Cheers.) Again, in a country like this, which is both free and wealthy, all endowed establishments are open to the competition of the unendowed, and few esta blishments are as amply endowed as not to leave much room for the operation on the teacher of those ordinary motives which prompt him to better his condition. This remark is, I think, eminently ap plicable to the Universities in Scotland. (Cheers.) It is indeed alleged, and I think with truth, that the ancient universities of England, with their mag nificent endowments, do not effect so much as they ought on behalf either of education or of learning ; but with the spirit of improvement which now rules in them, and with the powerful aid which the Le gislature has given for the more free and efficacious use of their property, I believe that they will both further enlarge their field and plough it more deeply. But when all has been done that we can reasonably hope I believe the result will still seem small when compared with those produced in other times and in other countries. It will still give rise to disappoint ment; let it not on that account be concluded that it would be desirable to strip these great and ancient foundations of their trappings. The real merits, the real performances of universities cannot be fairly j udged except by fairly measuring the strength of the competing power, that of the outer world. in all its busy spheres. The fact that a huudred pounds will not bring as much learning in England, or even in Scotland, as in Germany, is no more con clusive of the case than the fact that neither will the same sum buy as many eggs ; not because eggs are more scarce, but because money is more abundant. It may be, though I will not presume to assert posi tively it is,that the endowments of learning in our own country do but redress, and that partially, the rela tive disadvantages at which, but for them, learning itself must have been placed by the increased at tractions and multiplied openings which the exte rior spheres of modern life supply. This, however, we must all feel, that now is the time when every student and teacher connected with all these great and venerable institutions should bestir himself to refute at least in his own person the charge that an endowment gravitates towards torpor as its natural consummation, if we desire in a critical and not un kindly age that universities should still enjoy that intelligent respect which has been paid them by so many generations. I have been assuming all along that all universities are united by a harmonious bond of common interest and purpose, and I have therefore discussed them at large. If, however, we contract our view to the universities of Scotland—il yet we bring it nearer home, and look at Edinburgh alone, we have the consolation of thinking that envy herself can scarcely charge either the whole of them, or this one in particular, with an abuse of wealth. (Laughter and cheers.) In the history of the Uni versity of Edinburgh we may clearly trace the na tional character of Scotland--(cheers)—we find there all that hardy energy, that gift of extracting much from little—(laughter and cheers)—of hus banding every available provision —of supplying the defect of external means and appliances within their walls by the augmented effort and courage of man, we find that power to make an ungenial cli mate smile, and a hungry soil t eem w ith a ll th e bounties Providence, which ha ve g i ven t o Scot land a of m eaplace among m en so f ar b eyon d what were due to her geographical ex t en t or t o h er name and a natural resources. (Applause.) But the progress of this university during the last century—l strive to speak impartially—ls truly wonderful ; from the days of Carstairs, Pitcairn, Monro, and Sibbald, at its beginning, to those of Brown and Stewart, of Robertson and Blair, of Cullen, the second Munro, of Black, of Playfair, of Robertson, and of Sir Wm. Hamilton—(cheers)—and many others both before and since its close. But, gentlemen, it would be most unjust in any review of the fortunes of this uni versity not to notice that great peculiarity in its condition—its subjection to the local municipal au. thorities. (Loud hisses and some laughter.) I speak, gentlemen, of what history tells. (Loud cheers.) I have stated that it is the business of universities to give a charter to freedom oCdiscussion—(laughter) —and I am sure you will allow me to say what, without prejudice, is the impression that a perusal of the ancient history of Edinburgh, in the days of her poverty and weakness, could i n genera l look no further and no higher than to the council of the good town itself. (Laughter and cheers.) That relation, which was originally intended for a great secondary school, survived that stage of the career of the institution, and continued to influence its affairs when it was to all intents and purposes a university; and I must say that the history of this relation appears to me to have been honourable to all parties concerned. (Loud cheers.) On the side of the teaching body we commonly find deference and trust. Oa the side of the superintending cor poration in generations gone by—for the present is not within the sphere of my discussion (loud cheers) —we find patronage effectively and intelligently exercised—(cheers)—and the most assiduous and friendly care bestowed in improving and enlarging the organisation, so that it will indeed be easier for the Town Council of our own day, in the discharge of the important share of governing duties that are still lodged in its hands, to fall below than to rise above the level of those who preceded it in the cri tical times that preceded and followed the Legisla tive Union. And now, my younger friends—you to whom I owe the distinction of the office which enables and requires me to address you, if I have dwelt thus at length upon the character and scope of universities and their place in the scheme of Chris tian civilisation, it is in order that, setting before you the dignity that belongs to them, and that is reflected on their members, and the great opportu nities which they offer both of advancement and of improvement, I might chiefly suggest and im press by facts, which may be more eloquent than precepts, the responsibilities that are laid upon you by the enjoyment of these gifts and blessings. Much, however, might be said to you on the acqui sition of the knowledge which will be directly ser viceable to you in your several professions—much on the immense value of that kind of training in which the subjects learned have for their chief aim not to inure the hand (so to speak) to the use of its tools in some particular art, but to operate on the mind itself, and, by making it flexible, manifold, and strong, to endow it with a genial aptitude for the duties and exigencies of the frame of mind in which you s hould pursue your branches work. Of th ese three the topics belong ing to the first are the most obvious and simple, for it requires no argument to p ersuade the workman that he mu s t be duly furnis hed with his tools and must know how to use them. The reasons are less directly palpable which have made it the habit of our country to spend, where mea ns permit, rawly precious years upon stu dies void in a great degree of immediate bearing upon the intended occupations of our after life. There may, however, be the means that even the directofthe studies which uses include under the general designation of Humanity are more considerable, when they are collected lilto one view, than might have been sup- posed ; and, secondly, that the most distinguished professional men bear witness with an overwhelm ing authority in favour of a course of education in which to train the mind shall be the first ct, and to stock it the second. Man is to be trained chiefly by study and by knowing man ; and we are prepared for knowing man in life by learning him first in books, much as we are taught to draw from drawings before we draw from nature. But if man is to be studied in books, he will best be studied in such books as present him to us in the largest, strongest, simplest—in a word, the most typical forms. These forms are principally found among the ancients. Nor can the study of the ancients be disassociated from the study of their languages. There is a profound relation between thought and the investiture which it chooses for itself ; and it is as a general rule most true that we cannot know wen or nations unless we know their tongue. Diversity of language was, like labour, a temporal penalty inflicted on our race for sin ; but, being like labour originally penal, like labour it becomes by the ordinance of God a fertile source of blessing to those who use it aright. It is the instrument of thought, but it is not a blind or dead instrument ; it is like the works in metal that Daedalus and Vulcan were fabled to produce ; and even as the limping deity was supported in his walk by his nymphs of so called brass, in like manner language reacts upon and bears up the thoughts from which it springs, and comes to take rank among the most effective powers for the discipline of the mind. But more important than the quest of professional knowledge, more vital than the most effective in tellectual training, is the remaining question of the temper and aim with which the youth prosecutes his work. It is my privilege to be the first person who has ever thus addressed you in the capacity of Rector. But without doubt your ears have caught the echo of those affectionate and weighty counsels which the most eminent men of the age have not thought it beneath them to address to the students of a sister Scottish university. Let me remind you how one of European fame, who is now your and my academical superior —how the great jurist, orator, philosopher, and legislator who is our Chancellor—(cheers)—how Lord Brougham be ' sought the youth of Glasgow, as I in his words would more feebly, but not less earnestly, pray you " to believe how incomparably the present season is verily and indeed the most precious of your whole lives," and how " every hour you squander here will," in other days, " rise up against you and be paid for by years of bitter but unavailing regrets." Let me recal to you how another Lord Rector of Glasgow, whose strong sagacity, vast range of ex perience, and energy of will were not one whit more eminent than the tenderness of his conscience, and his ever-watchful and wearing sense of public duty —let me recal to you how Sir Robert Peel—(cheers) —choosing from his quiver with a congenial fore thought that shaft which was most likely to strike home, averred before the same academic audience what may as safely be declared to you, that " there is a presumption amounting almost to certainty that if any one of you will determine to be eminent in whatever profession you may choose, and will act with unvarying steadiness in pursuance of that de termination, you will, if health and strength be given to you, infallibly succeed." The mountain tops of Scotland behold on every side of them the witness, and many a one of what were once her morasses and her moorlands, now blossoming as the rose, carries on its face the proof that it is in man and not in his circumstances that the secret of his destiny resides. For most of you that destiny will take its final bent towards evil or towards good, not from the information you imbibe, but from the habits of mind, thought, and life that you shall ac quire during your academical career. Could yelp with the bodily eye see the moments of it as they fly, you would see them all pass by you, as the bee that has rifled the heather bears its honey through the air, charged with the promise, or it may be the menace of the future. In many th:ngs it is wise to believe before experience until you can know, sand in order that you may know ; and believe me when I tell you that the thrift of time will repay you in after life with an usury of profit beyond your most sanguine dreams, and that the waste of it will make you dwindle, alike in intellectual and in mo ral stature, beyond your darkest reckonings. lam Scotchman enough te know that among you there are always many who are already, even in their ten der years, fighting with tt. mature and manful cou rage the battle of life. (Cheers.) When they feel themselves lonely amidst the crowd, when they are for a moment disheartened by that difficulty which is the rude rocking-cradle of every kind of excel lence—when they are conscious of the pinch of po verty and self-denial, lot them be conscious, too, that a sleepless e y e i s wa t c hi ng t h em from above, that their honest efforts are assisted, their humble prayers are heard, and all things are working toge ther for their good. Is not this the life of faith, which walks by your side from your rising in the morning to your lying down at night—which lights up for you the cheerless world, and transfigures all that you encounter, whatever be its outward form, • with hues brought down from heaven ? These con siderations are applicable to all of you. You are all in training here for educated life, for the higher forms of mental experience, for circles, limited,per haps, but yet circles of social influence and leader ship. Some of you may he chosen to greater distin tions and heavier trials, and may enter into that class of which each member while he lives is envied and admired— " And when he dies he bears a lofty name, A light, a landmark, on the cliffs of fame." (Cheers.) And, gentlemen, the hope of an enduring fame is without doubt a powerful incentive to vir tuous action, and you may suffer it to float before you as a vision of refreshment, second always and second with long interval to your conscience and the will of God. For an enduring fame is one stamped by the judgment of the future, that future which dispels illusions and smashes idols into dust. Little of what is criminal, little of what is idle, can endure even the first touch of the ordeal ; it seems as though this purging power, following at the heels of man and trying his work, were a witness and a harbinger of the great and final account. So then the thirst of an enduring fame is near akin to the love of true excellence. But the fame of the moment is a dangerous possession and a bastard motive ; and he who does his acts in order that the echo of them may come back as a soft music in his ears, plays false to his noble destiny as a Christian man, places himself in continued danger of dallying with wrong, and taints even his virtuous actions at their source. Not the sublime words alone of the Son of God and His apostles, but heathenism, too, even while its vision is limited to this passing scene, testifies with an hundred tongues that the passing scene itself presents to us virtue as an object, and a moral law, graven deeply in our whole nature as a•guide. (Applause.) But now, when the screens that so bounded human vision have been removed, it were sad indeed, and not more sad and shameful, if that being should be content to live for the opinion of the moment who has immortality for his inheritance. He that never dies, can he not afford to wait patiently a while ? And can he not let faith, which interprets the present, also guarantee the future ? Nor are there any two habits of mind more distinct than that which chooses success for its aim and covets after popularity, and that, on the other hand, which values and defers to the judg ments of our fellow-men, as helps in the attainment of truth. But I would not confound with the sor did worship of popularity in after life, the graceful and instinctive love of praise in the uncritical pe riod of youth. On the contrary, I say, avail your selves of that stimulus to good deeds, and when it proceeds from worthy sources and lights upon worthy conduct, yield yourselves to the warm satis faction it inspires ; but yet, even while young, and even amidst the glow of that delight, keep a vigi lant eye upon yourselves, refer the honour to Him from whom all honour comes, and ever be in wardly ashamed for not being worthier of His gifts. But, gentlemen, if you let yourselves en joy the praise of your teachers, let me beseech you to repay their care, and to help their ardu ous work, by entering into it with them, and by showing that you meet their exertions neither with a churlish mistrust, nor with a passive indifference, but with free and ready gratitude. (Cheers.) Rely upon it they require your sym pathy ; and they require it more in proportion as they are worthy of their work. The faithful and able teacher, says an old adage, is in loco parentis. His charge certainly resembles the mother's care in this, that if he be devoted to his task you can mea sure what is the cost to him of the efforts which he makes, and the debt of gratitudeyou owe him. The great poet of Italy—the profound and lofty Dante —had had for an instructor one whom, for a mise rable vice, his poems places in the regions of the damned ; and yet this lord of song—this prophet of all the knowledge of his time—this master of every gift that can adorn the human mind—when in those dreary regions he sees the known image of his tutor, avows in language of a magnificence all his own that he cannot even now withhold his sym. pathv and his sorrow from his unhappy teacher, ' for he recollects how, in the upper world, with a father's tender care, that teacher had pointed to him the way by which man becomes immortal. Gen tlemen, I have detained you long. (Applause.) Per haps I have not had time to be brief ; certainly I could have wished for much larger opportunities of maturing and verifying what I have addressed to you upon subjects which have always possessed a hold on my heart, and have long had public and palpable claims on my attention. Such as I have I give. (Applause.) And now finally in bidding you farewell, let me invoke every blessing upon your venerahlp university in its new career ; upon the youth by whom its halls are gladdened, and upon the distinguished head And abi teachers by whom its places of authority are adorned. (Mr.( STEAM TRAIN FOR IN DIAN RI VERS. Gladstone resumed his sea t am id l oud and prolonged I applause.) cl by the li(v, fold pronouncin g the benediction. The Vice-Chancellor and Rector, with the other occupants of the platform, then retired in profes sional order to the Assembly Room to disrobe, most of them being loudly cheered by the students as they descended the steps leading from the platform, while the three or four representatives of the Town Council present were greeted with manifestations of an opposite character. THE REFORM BILL.-DEPUTATION TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL. Yesterday afternoon a deputation from the cor poration of Bristol, consisting of the Mayor (J. Bates, Esq.), Alderman Barrow, and Messrs. Cooke, Jose, Castle, Bush, Robinson, King, Warren, and Mr. Burges (town clerk), had an interview with Lord John Russell, at the Foreign-office, Down ing -street, for the purpose of pressing the claims of Bristol for additional representation. The deputation was accompanied by the Hon. F. H. F. Berkeley, M.P.,and W. H. Go re Lang ton, M.P. (the member or the city of Bristol) ; and the former having briefly introduced the depu tation, Last week we mentioned that a tryin of barges, built iw M ,,, • 1,. ,L)11u alid i.ii. a; Poit-Cilaz gow, for the Oriental Inland Steam Company of London, had been tried on the Clyde with the most satisfactory results • and as this t ra i n cons tit u tes a composite vessel of larger dimensions than any yet constructed, and as the problems of navigating the shallow rivers of India is one of great interest and importance, it will be satisfactory if we here record some of the main particulars of the dimensions and performance. The train consists of a steamer and five barges, of the collective length of 900 feet, being nearly half as long again as the Great Eastern. The breadth of the train is 30 feet, and the depth of the hold about 71 feet. The draught of the barges, when light, is about 10 inches, and it is reckoned that, on a draught of 21 feet, the train will carry about 2,000 I tons of cargo. The engines, which are on the high and low pressure principle, have been constructed by Messrs. Fawcett, Preston and Co., of Liverpool; but, as the steam section of the train is not yet completed, the train was, on this first occasion, moved by two small tugs. The boilers, which are on the locomotive principle, supply steam of a pres sure of 100 lbs. per square inch, and this steam, after having first produced power in two high in es sure cylinders, passes into two condensing cylinders, by which expedient the power is nearly doubled. without any increase in the consumption of fuel. The engines are furnished with superheaters, ex ternal condensers, and all other modern improve ments. The different barges of the train are articu lated to one another by means of circular joints, se as virtually to constitute a long flexible vessel pre senting only one bow to the water, and by this arrangement the resistance incident to the ascent of a rapid river is greatly less than it would be if any other species of vessel were employed. The train, though so long and of such large dimensions, was found to be perfectly manageable ani capable of being steered with certainty and ease. Other trials will be made when the steam section of the train is completed, and the speed realised will then be as certained. But, so far as the present trial gees , it has been successful and satisfactory in every re spect.—Greenock, Advertiser. The Mayor of BRISTOL addressed his lordship. He said Bristol justly complained that it had been overlooked in the bill which his lordship had intro duced into the House of Commons, and the princi pal ground of complaint was that Leeds was to have an additional member while Bristol was in that re spect to remain as it was at present. This was con sidered unjust, because of the importance in many ways of Bristol over Leeds. He had in his hands a paper in which a comparison was drawn between the two places. Now it appeared that in 1851, the population of Bristol was 137,328,and that of Leeds 172,270; and the number of houses inhabited was, Bristol, 20,873, and Leeds, 36,165; but while in 1857 the property assessed for property and income tax in Bristol amounted to £118,396, that in Leeds 'only reached £96,936, being about £22,000 in favour of Bristol. There were other things, how ever, which showed Bristol to be in advance of Leeds. Take, for instance, the number of letters delivered. At the date of the last return Bristol showed 8,334,000 as against 5,075,000 in Leeds, or 31 millions in favour of Bristol. For postal ser vices, therefore, Bristol paid £31,947, while Leeds only paid £24,206. The voters at present were Bristol, 12,929, and Leeds, 5,945 ; and the proposed addition was Bristol, 4,956, and Leeds, 5,979, so that the new constituencies would be Bristol, with 17,885 voters, only two members ; Leeds, 11,924, three members. The deputation considered those the strong points in their case; but there "ere others. Bristol paid about a million arl2, a quarter of the customs revenue, while 'nothing under the same head was derived from Leeds. Then of the 25 members to be taken from the present constitu encies 13 were to be taken from the west of Eng land, while only three were to be given to the west of England. The hon. gentleman also submitted that Bristol was worthy of consideration, on the ground that it was the principal port in the west of England; and as far as education was concerned it ranked amongst the highest, if indeed not the highest, in England. Other members of the deputation having ad dressed his lordship, Lord JOHN RUSSELL could only say that the different cases that had been represented to him, to Sir George Lewis, and Sir George Grey should be carefully considered by the Cabinet. But he might add this observation, that it was very diffi cult to take any test but one, and that the rather simple one of population, in framing any measure for the improved representation of the people. He had received several deputations on similar grounds as the present from various portions of the country, all of whom, with a plentiful flow of statistics, wished to show its right to additional representa tion. He could only promise that all the statements should receive due attention. The deputation then withdrew, HEALTH OF LONDON DURING THE WEEK. (From the Report of the Registrar-General.) The weather was last week unusually cold for April, and the mortality of London was high, though, as in the previous week, it was considerably lower than it had been in the last three weeks of March. The deaths in the week that ended last Saturday were 1,407. In the ten years 1850-59 the average number of deaths in the weeks corre sponding with last week was 1,119, which, if cor rected for increase of population, becomes 1,231. The deaths of last week, therefore, exceeded by 176 the number which the average rate of mortality in the second week of April would have produced. The mean temperature of the air in last week was about 5 deg. lower than in either of the two pre ceding weeks. The deaths referred to bronchitis in the week are 208, the corrected average being only 118 ; in the corresponding week of 1851, when the mean tem perature of the air was remarkably low, and nearly the same as that of last week, the deaths from bronchitis were not more than 89. Pneumonia was fatal in 116 cases, the corrected average being 90. Phthisis also continues fatal, for this disease numbered 179 last week, while the estimated number is 164. But the two zymotic diseases, smallpox. and scarlatina, do not appear to gain force, as the weekly mortality from them has lately been less than it was in the first three months of the year. Three deaths from smallpox occurred in the week in the sub-district of Trinity, Newing ton. Five persons died from burns, one man from his clothes taking fire, two others from the burning of the houses in which they dwelt; two persons were burnt by means not recorded. Ten infants were suffocated in the bed clothes. Four infants were murdered. A porter, aged 66 years, died from want on the 27th of March, at 19, Phipp street, Shoreditch. Three persons died from in temperance, besides two from delirium tremens. Last week the births of 932 boys and 934 girls, in all 1,866 children, were registered in London. In the ten corresponding weeks of the years 1850.59 the average number was 1,684. At the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, the mean height of the barometer in the week was 29-805 in. The mean height on Wednesday and Saturday was above 30 in. The lowest reading of the barometer in the week was 29.38 in. on Sunday ; the highest 30.08 in. on Saturday. 'The mean temperature of the air in the week was 40.7 deg., which is 4'S deg. below the average of the same week in 43 years (as determined by Mr. Glaisher). The mean daily tem perature was below the average on every day ex cept Sunday ; and the extent of depression was nearly 8 deg. on Wednesday and Saturday. The thermometer in the shade rose to 57.2 deg. on Sun day, the highest point in the week, and fell to 28.2 deg. on Wednesday, the lowest point, or 3.8 deg. below the freezing point of water. The range of temperature in the week was, therefore, 29 deg. The mean daily range was 15.8 deg. The difference between the mean dew -point tem perature and air temperature was 5.3 deg., show ing the dryness of the air. The mean degree of humidity was 82 ; the humidity on Friday and Saturday was respectively 95 and 97, approach ing nearly to the point of complete saturation, which is represented by 100. The mean temperature of the water of the Thames was 46.4 deg. The di rec ti on o f th e w i n d was variable ; on Sunday it was south-west, on the next three days it was west and north-west, and again south west and south, and at the end of the week north-east. Rain fell to the amount of o'2l in., half of which fell on Saturday. On Monday showers of hail and rain were frequent, and in the evening there was thunder and lightning ; and on Tuesday there were showers of snow, hail, and rain. [ADVERTISEMENT.]—HoIIoway's Ointment and Cure of Bad Legs after Fourteen Years' Duration.—Mrs. Greatley, of Dartford, was afflicted for 14 years with bad legs. She was told it was impossible she could ever be cured. Eighteen months ago she became worse. Her friends were obliged to carry her up and down stairs. At Guy's Hospital they refused to receive her except as an in door patient, as it was feared amputation would be neces sary. She then resolved to try Holloway's ointment and pills, and in the course of nino weeks those remedies alone effected a sound and perfect cure. The whole neighbour hood was perfectly astonished, for they had regarded the ease as hopeless —as utterly beyond the reach of human aid. [ADVERTISEMENT.] •-• Medicine always aggravates chronic diseases, such as indi ges ti on (dyspepsia), flatu lency, habitual constipation, nervous, bilious and liver complaints, &c., but Du Barry's delicious Revale'nta Arabica Food invariably cures them in a very short time. We extract two out of many thousand expressions of grati tude from invalids. Cure 36,418—Rev. Dr. Minster of cramps, spasms, and daily vomitings. Cure 26,418—Dr. Harvey of diarrhoea and debility. Cure 39,621—Dr. Wurt zer of consumption. Cure 32,880—William Hunt, Esq., Barrister, of paralysis. Cure 46,270—Mr. James Roberts, timber merchant, of Frimley, of thirty years diseased lungs, spitting of blood, liver derangement, partial deafness. Cure No. 47,121—Miss Elizabeth Jacobs, of Nazing Vicarage- Waltham Cross, Herts, a cure of extreme nerYouP, ness, indigestion, gatherings, low spirits, mad nerv. our fancies. Cure No. 48,314—Miss Valzabotb man, Gateacre, near Liverpool, A cure og Jn Pars dyspepsia, and all the hormie of nerve.,: irritability. _ In tins, at ls. 6d. ; 11b., 3 a . ; 21b., ss. r Ab., 125.; 121 b., 265. The 101 b. and 121 b. tins carriage fwe , on receipt of post office order, Du Barry and Co., 77,11'gent-street, London; Fortnum, Mason, and Co,, 182, Piccadilly • Abbis, 60, Gracechurch-street • 4, Chospside ; 63, and 150, Oxford street ; 330 and 451, Strand ; 49 and 60, Bishopsgate• street ; 85, Tottenham-court-road. Also at D u la,. Tiawley 'and Draper ; at Edinburgh, Rairaes and Cc , at Liverpool, Nixen and Thew; at Manchester and at; Scott; at York_ 2 Rainies, Blanchard, antl,Co.:; at;Soutt amptozy 8au4,14/1 4%4 &:93. COUNTRY ALARXBTS. LI VERPOOL - -to.nrr, 17. A fair attendance to-day, mid wheat and flour may be quoted at 2d to 3d per cental advance on the rates of the week. There was a genera; improvement of is in beans and peas ; barley at last week's full prices. Oats and oat meal a tolerably rev sale, at a alight rise in price. In Indian corn ':.onsiderable business was done. BRISTOL—Apitm 17. At our market to-day wheat was 2s to 3a per qr dearer on the week. Oats and barley about 6d dearer. A fair attend ance of the trade. LEEDS-APRIL 17. We have a firm demand for wheat, but a limited show, at 2s advance on the prices of Tuesday se'nnight. All other descriptions of grain dearer. Arrivals this week : ...... . Wheat .. _ 2,542 gm. Barley 1,583 . Oats Rapeseed Beans 441 Linseed — Flour Averages for the week : Wheat 3,114 qrs., at 60s Ifd Peas • • —s Od Beans 8ar1ey......... 199 — 42 s 6id Oats 3O — 27 s 6d Rye 26 368 Od SHEFFIELD-APRIL 17. A smaller supply than usual at market, but the demaid was active, and an advance of is to is 6d per load was readily obtained. Beans 6d higher. Barley and oats 6d dearer. Flour advanced 2d per 141 b. Red wheat, per load of 3 imperial bushels...2os Od to 21s Pd White ...21s 6d to 23s Od New red ~ ~ ...17s Od to 185 Od t 1 /f New white .. ...18s Od to 19s 6d - 77 lf . . __ Beans -- ... 17a Od to 20s 6d Peas, per qr. I) )1 42s Od to 50s Od Grinding barley, per qr . 33s Od to 35s Od Malting ditto, ~ 3Bs Od to 43s Od Oats 26s Od to 32s Od ___ Millers' 77 prices for flour—ls 11d, 2s ld, and 26 3d par 141 b. COURSE OF EXCHANGE.—YESTERDAY. Amsterdam Ditto Rotterdam — 11. 16f 11 17 Antwerp Brussels - -25 371 25 42k Hamburgb. Paris Ditto • 3 Months. 25 421 25 47/ Marseilles - _25 421 25 471 Frankfort on Maine — 1171 1171 Vienna Trieste Petersburgh — 341 34/ Madrid 491 491 . Cadiz — 49' 49 Leghorn — 30 o 0 30 5 Milan — 25 45 25 60 Genoa — 25 47} 26 52/ Naples Palermo — 122 1221 Messina — 122 1221 Lisbon Oporto Rio Janeiro — • • • . New York — • • .. Foreign Gold in Bars (Standard)....per oz. £3 17 9 Mexican Dollars .... „ 0 5 21 Silver in Bars (St an d ar d) 0 5 11 If South American Doublons FOREIGN MAIL PACKET LIST. In the following table E signifies that letters are despatched by evening mails from London, and M by morning mails., SIS,t DESTINATIONS. Despatch Port of Mau of Mails. Despatch. due. Australia and Mauriti us , v i a _____._.• Southampton Ditto, via Mar se ill es A M p a rl y 1 1 1 2 8 , , M B Southamp. May may 1 4 0 Bahamas and Havana via New York Canada, &c. (by C anada. pckt ) 3Alpariylll2B% E E L Li iv v e e goo oo l l . ... M xp a r Y i r s Cape of Good Hope, Ascen sion, mon, and St. Helena May 5, EiDevonport May China, Penang, and Singa- Al I. pore, via Southampton Ditto, via Marseilles April26, Ek April a Gibraltar, via Southampton.. April2o ,MiSouthamp. A:Pri; ....' Honduras and Blewfields .... April—, Al Southamp. Apr il India (Calcutta) and Ceylon, rll l6 via Southampton A pr il2o , M S out h amp. A Ditto, via M arse ill es India (Bombay), v i a South ampton April 27, M Southamp. p iil2 Ditto, via Mar se ill es Ap rlllB, £ lAPr illr Lisbon, Brazils ,Buenos Ayres, p PP ri ril64. : and P. Island s May 9, M Southamp. May, s o l Lisbon, Vigo, and Opo r to Ap r ill7 , M Southamp. - ill)ru- Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via l ig Southamton Aril2o , 11) , " g Ditto, via Marseilles Ap p M Southamp. . 4 rillB , E 414ncil l Mexico and Havana ........ Southamp. Newfoundland . . . . . . . ... ,April 24, E Liverpool United States and iritish N.I rn2S America (by British packet) April2l, E Liverpool A a --- Ditto West Indi (by u ~ California, S . p p eru ket) .. April 18 ,E Southamp. West Coast of Africa, Ma deira, le and Teneriffe Aprll23 B Liverpool.. M: 3l, Vene zuela, _ChiGrey A• i 1 4 town. 'New Granada. &c. ,Apri 1— M Sonthamp. ' ..9, STATE OF TR ADE: B ELFAST, April 14. 11 ifl b re active. demand has bee n ex p er i ence d f or finished go.l American orders, which had been of small amount. dill y . the pa s t month are at present comi ng i n p re tty fre e d Auction sales o li nens at N ew York during the fu rot ' o f months of the year had been se extensive in some I into. goods as t o g i ve a depressed tone to the market, an d e• in regular fabrics sales were less satisfactory in cones ' 4 lu -- „„ 0 -, of those peremptory transactions. The home trade •Is derately active. Fine goods are inereasing in stock W the average accumulation of all lines is not large. The Mysterious Power of the Magnet is most berstitifullf developed tby Mr. F. M. HERRING, of 32, Basingha a-901; in his Patent Magnetic Brushes and Combs, which : Are t remedy for grey hair, w ea k or f a lli ng ha i r, neuralgia,ner/f to eo headache, rheumatism, stiff j o i n t s, & c. Hi s T eaz l e for cloth, velvet, &c., are admirable ; they not mil, clean o but preserve the fab r i c i n a remarka b le manner. Tile up b fire mistimed against counterfeits.—[ADVT.] BIRTHS. CusT.— C urti On the 17th in s t., i n Cl arges - street, M rs . I. of a daughter. LANGLEY.—On the 17th inst. at 7, Cl eve l a nd-terrig* Hyde -park, the wif e o f Colonel Langley, of a son. WARD. —On tha 15th inst. , at Corrig Avenue, Kingit trigli ' the Hon. M rs . Somerset Ward, of a daughter. AVE STMACOTT.—On the 14th inst. at at 29. Hertford-st OOP' Mayfair, th e w if e o f August us F. Westmacott, '.astl•P M.A., of a daughter. MARRIAGES. CARTER--STONE.—On the 17th inst., at St. Po orN to Church, Thomas Carter, Esq., of H erne hill, , ► o f Jemhna Ann, widow of Edward Storm, Esq., 111 ''' Faversham. eIIAMBERS—DUPPA.—On the 16th in:4 2 , at Spanish - P i t e : Chapel, William Henry Chambers, .Esq,, to Cath im ellj a Mary, the eldest daught er o f t he late Baldwin Fr— Duppa, Esq. BOLTON. -On the 16th lP.st., at Brighton, W. U. 3:3°lt°°' cestersMre, Fulwav DA B CR E A S ITt a L e O d : o the 140_ inst ,at Brockhampton-pa , DV/FP,. rk GIP II-• Craven, Esq., aged 78. —On the 13V4 inst., at Bedwelty House, Treclegar .rogsworlia, Mornrouthshire, Richard Powell Davis, BOP , aged 49. Gurctxo.—On the 16th inst., at Gloucester -place , Pei* / man-square, Lieut.-Col. Gunning, aged 79, formerly ° 69th Regt. GREENn.—On. the 16th inst. , at St. Ive's, B en i ennlin It. Greene, Esq., ago d 55. Lodi HAY. —On the 13th inst• ,at Hoe Court, Ma lvern ' - Mary Tur ner H ay . u . ing, • MAINWARING.—On the 13th i ns t , Maier Main ar late 22d Regt., ag . id 62. _........• LONDON' : Printed a nd Publi s h e d by MURDO YOU-N 11ei' of No. 112, Strand '., Printer, at The Sun Office, N°' a Strand, in the Pr eoinet of the Savoy, in the °°" tl ° Atiadlee9x, WWIIt vcilly, April 18, 1860. P: 0 , Shares The ; C bet brospe, by Ito) so GREW l•'req and Va Ordii ar PaRSI from F Addi to r , Pgc .ro n , 3 trai ns t " c o A Sp for Sten!' goin z u Tick( ftt 3r es , ( "Tiffin' Charini Two X bridz e 11Tatc Catal Mouse PR Prof. LECTI Applica ture, at The I April 2( ceedin2 RE trait tC Disease lion is i during- ING'S It'vertin; Mike to Prep: aad 10s St. Pau Sin, lenges have of tble to be very E I r ared; fto„ tt, Liver, it Cite, lo' Nvithou Wilton and pit rate th le. 14d, Ailietts Paskast graved Ju.t RPlil: NSF,/ RYsTI p t tzE it:mg a Why tl thy ')' c tozetli roction Redief s treet, nOster To It In the A le wi Adi Itedfc F in