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

THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING CAPRIL :IS, i 60. INSTJLLATION OF MR. GLADSTONE AT EDINBURGH. , Theiastallation of Mr. Gladstnne as rector of the Edinbuxgh 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 virtue of his office, prelided on the occasion, and the Divinity ProfeMor 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 .—The Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, the Right Hon. the LoK4 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 :-4,-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 bad 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 formed 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 1:16 also an enlarged and expanding—nature on wards in his turn to his posterity, under that mys terious law which establishes between every gene ratidn and its predecessors a moral as well as phy sical association. In what 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 the 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 lavemust 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 greatnaSof the race now anti in its infant or early stages, wia4May leQcalled the normal specie mees,so far ae i they have been made' known to us either , through external ilirm -or through the-works of the intellect, lia4e tended rather to - dwindle, or at least to than to grow in the highest elements of greatness. ".13a.the exceptions at whi c h these re markz, have; 4lanced neither destroy or materially weaken the profound moment of the broad and•uni vc,rsal canon, that every generation of men, as ,they traverse the vale of, Ilk, are bound to accumulate, and in-di-4114"ai1t6.,1 necumulate,newlrensures • " _;"1 5Li . f°1.t. •• 141. ?- a i le f..• '‘' I M I • • , lavP l - 1 1c. world ii:ther on their de fPillshe advantage of their descendants, than - oD llitiletntrance they themselv es had found it. Ot the enental portion of this treasnre no small. part le stored, and of the continuous horde I have described' no small part is performed by universities, which have been, I venture to say, entitled to rank among the greater • lights and glories of Christendom. (Applause.) It. is, 1 believe, a fact, and if so it is a fact highly, instructive and suggestive, that the university as such is ,a Chrietian institution. The: Greeks, indeed, had the very largest ideas upon the trai%ing of man, and. produced specimens of our kind with gifts than have never been surpassed. But the nature of man, such as they knew it, was scarcely at nil developed; nay it-was maimed, in its supreme rapacity—in its relations. towards God. iTcnce, as in the visimis of the Prophet, so-upon the roll of history, the imposing fabrics of ancient tivi lisetion never endured. (Applause.) Greece has bequeathed to usher ever-living tongue and the immortal- productions of her intellect ; Rome made ready for Christendom the elements of polity 111 - 411., .buf the brilliant assemblage of endewrnents 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 Wil.t3 gone— • " Rune tantwn terris ostendeut fata; neque ultra Esse sineut." W e now watch, gentlemen, with a treirnbling hope, the'course of . that later and Christian civilisation niiiol arose of .the ashes of :the old heathen . vcnrlcl, and ask ourselves whether, like the C - helEitgelr; lbat • whieli= the Ihr-Tel ht( as -r• •-) lit byond itself •in the manners arts, - e_nd in htitutions of men is in such manner . and . degree salted with perpetual life that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it ? Will the civilisation, which was springing upwards from the - - days of Charlemagne, and which now; over the 'face of Europe and America, seems to proscnt to us in be wildering conflict the mingled signs of decrepitude an d i of . vigour,Terish like its older types, and like thew, be known thereafter only in its: fragments; or does it bear a charmed lire, and will it give shade froth - the heat and slicdter from the _stor m to all In. any -ans•.ver o su c h a generations of man ? question it would perhaps be. - easier !to say what q_veived. sou* „ n - 41, 13 rhal,•,:srouei • things we may ohlerve, which 717_1 among - fife materials cf a replf: The arts of war aronoty scr allitd with those of peace that barbarism, tinge so terrible, is' reduced to physical impotence ; and what civilised man has had the wit to create, be cox rti has also the strength to defend. Thus one grand destructive agency is. paralysed. Time, indeed, is the great destioyer—but his power, too, is greatly neutralised by printing, by commerce, *l'ch lays the foundations of friendship among nations, by the ease of communication,,which binds men to gether, by that diffusion of intelligence which mul tiplies the - natural guardians of civilisation. These are perhaps not merely isolated phenomena. Per ' haps they are but witnesses, and but a few among many witnesses, to the vast flange which has been wrought since the advent of our Lord in the state lof man. Perhaps they re-echo to us the truth that, apart from saund and sure relations to his Maker, the fitful efforts of mankind must needs be worsted 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 throne,h had then, once indeed, more civilisation l e i n s a t i _his o n have a meaning and a vitality place upon his might come to 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 greund-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 intefpretation. 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 Et 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 gfeat 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 progrgssive 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 noble and lofty harmony, be. tween the greatest gift of the Almighty to our race on the one hand, and the subordinate but momen t9us 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--s-Universitasfundata 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 pt riod when the less organised institutions for teaching began . to develop themselves into tlitir 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 knowledgethat, rising above mere handicraft, could contribute to train the mind mid faculiies of man. To say, then, that the university was founded in arta. Was to assert the universality of its work. The :;_-:ertic , n was not less true, nor less far-sighted, be- cause those who first Made it mRy not have beer coneicus of its comprehending more than . ch the studies of th e trivium and quad/iv/um —whi gram Mar, r h e t or i c, l og i c, ar i thmetic, music, geo metry, and astronomy.. This catclogueis indeed a brietone, as compared with the countless branches of modern study ; yet within its narrow bounds it contains in principle, at the least, the philosopby of speech, the philosophy of . the mind, the mathetua tiedl-sciences, pure and mixed, and the 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 a.,ia ap , OA. The 'sincerity, the sagacity, the energy of we dc re iiurpo.3.o with whi c h th e old } unive r6 iti er , sigr,ed o:nd organised may b e discerned, as in oth er vo ys, so by the progressive expression of. their seudics. The Roman after rema i ning long alinost forgotten; becafne known anew to Europe ;. and, as it grew to be a study, the university pro with their faiterualtyptooffelsasNovis.s: wainxidchwith those call pro vided deges, for r i e principalt . . this , day for •My grateful appreciation. (Cheers.) . Again, when the final triumph of barbarism-at Con. stantiuople compelled Greek learning to seek a hom e in the west, provision began to be made forthwith in univo sities for its reception. I; think my distill- . gniAied brother, if I may presume to call him so (Profssor'Mansel), could tell us that one of the first ,of it hese foundations was made in tho very college at (1' fora whioll ho himsol f adorns. (A Pplan'-: ) And 'O-4, ,fi,(l7 : ,- or wilieh_Greek lemming. is the main and , ,o-t I,uicro, as well - £1.51 - the most arduous part, n,; {l^ its way under the . well. deserved name of h ',linen ity, to the very head of the faculty of arts. Olen in all physical science man, guided; in no small degree by our own illustrious Bacon, became tent . (in Bacon's language) to acknowledge him- pipillie servant and interpreter of nature, and' 't:lli:,-ite the paths of , patient Observation, the tail was „laid for that faculty of medicine which rittained in the University of Edinburgh to a oetion destined I hope to be as lung 'Nel as it ithott dou 61extraordinary. (Applf., n , .e.) AVe can i, I ,Y tqx d ile et that human institutto u shotrl4'iVith- . / 10 14 i of tinto,'retain tlle - ffe.kilile and eia4tie tis. 0 1 their v on t}, ; nuil 11ni-;;r9ities in pqrtieular, 110 Y havg-rown oicl and great, have come to in e -T eat many point with the interests and. con- Y9l that o u t er world wl-114i has but little syth with their proper woilcl )layed at, this day. an prganrs• or they might have ~ ay. to the present .4.t . a 4. 4 Ili 1 , ation as complete, knowledge and „.. 1. i , t T.::i _,O iiit., ~, . 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 tin 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 Ilbwer 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 romantic 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 in= that gave to the human mind one of those enduring impulses whose effects remain long after their 'source has been forgotten, and influence the bourse 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 which enjoy political liberty the universities are usually firm supportsrof 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 bear witness against greater and more pernicious ex eesses. To take instances—the University of Edin burgh did not very easily accommodate itself 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 s 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 togeth er by th e no bl e 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 s I neither define nor dispute the changes that the altered conditions of modern society may lieve required; but lethink there is 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 fethers to all slavish formalism in the personal free dom .which has been allowe'T 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.. sornetimee for the moment serious enough, to the public peace—(leud cheers)—which occurred from time to time—and lastly, let 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 them ; let us eonfess, the defect was more than made gOod- by the zeal with which in those times learn ing was pursued ; their true test is in the capacity and vigour which they gave to the mind, and this, trial they can well abide. The sketch which I likve endeavonted to give, though longer than I could wish, yet, touching as it does, a subject of vast and varied interest' is, I admit, both slight general, and would require mueli adaptation lel detail to make it (exactly suit each case, But it is essentially a picture of the past. Jion nova- progenies ecelo dernittiti* alto. The simple fOrms into which society was cast at the time when universities were equal to their work, have given Plue to a more extended and elaborate organisa tion, with greatly multiplied wants ; and the very ly c s a, at, ti n ia e regt s te t ti t d i e t a e dtei o cm, t l . la s ni o i c (al i ss e t oi y ti Ik N ie v t ,h h s a n rb o el s di v suh m eme a ce n s e tt s isi eo i ni m eetta e r n ni s si j e z ise of supp energy, an d a f t o lt. : he t Una: fur those prizes of talent and 7w p i , , ,o h rt w un h i i t c i i c i f life now abound, have n b a i d l . e d l o r s n v . n opportunities of attainingout er w walks k e s ve o l to the modest I g n e n , a t n h ing tone of mind with respect meats which science, n at f ic; o en e o r w ll l ' e l preciecti or 'universities, have (T i ed the prevail , have disposed the overwhelming seek for education, to seek it not for f a o s l s . of those who but for the sake simply or 'its bearin 'lts oiTt v i n sake; pro fessions and pursuits of life. Amidst g a warm glow of , reverence, gratitude, and attachment there is discontent with the existing universities, and a sense that they do not perform all their work. Part of this discontent is exacting and unreasonable ; ano ther part of it is justified by a comparison of luaus, which all or sonic of them • possess, with their pe e _ formances, and ought to be met, and to be remov e d, nut besides the two forms of discontent I have named, there is a third, which is neither irrational like the' first, nor yet,seinteliable like the second, There - Ml . lst always he, es pecially in the most lumi sions and the Mast energetic minds, a senss of dell-, eieney which we may . properly call discontent i n repeird to the shortcomings of universities when they are put to the test of measurement beside th e '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 activity of the huinen spirit For let .us e membrr 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 - discoveiy, to har moniEe continually the inherited with the ac- quired wealth or mankind, and t'ogi;e 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 whore 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 ma 3 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 Some Men, indeed, possess in this de partment ta princely gift, which operates like a charm upon the young, and they follow suvh an pne as soldiers follow their leader when he faxes 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 putsued with the whole heart, even when felt to be an absorbing work, but moderately successful ; while he who teaches with half his keart 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 he is enrolled as a member of one of these institutions, feels that ho is admitted to a share in a great inheritance, and instinctively burns to be worthy of the badge helms 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 net 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. countries. w with those It wi But when all h as b een done that we can reasonably hope I belie ve th e result will still seem small when compared producedllsti ll give in otherrise to times other 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 judged exceptby fairly measuring the strength of the competing power, that of the outer world, in all its busy spheres• The fact that a huuclred 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 pantry 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 g ravitates 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 Seotland—if yet we bring it nearer home, and look at Edinburgh alone, we have the consolation of thinking that envy herself can scarcely charge eithei l the whole of them, or this one in partieular r -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 Seotland--(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 iingenial cli mate smile, and a hungy soil teem with all the bounties of. Providence, which have given to Scot land a name and a place among men so far beyond what were due to her geographical extent or to her natural resources. (Applause.) But the progress of this university during: the last century—l strive to speak impartially—is truly wonderful ; from the days of Carstairs, Pitcairn, Monro; and Sibbald, at its, beginning, to those of Brown and Stewart, of nebeetson and Blair, of Cullen, the second Munro, of Black, of I?layfaireof Robertson, and of Sir Wm. imilton —(eheers)—and many others both b. fore and since its close. But, gentlemen, it would be most unjust in any review of: the fortunes of this uni versify 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.) 1 have stated that it is the business of universities to give a charter to freedom of discussion—(laughter) —and I am sum, you will allow me to say whst, without. prejudice, is the impression that a perusal of the ancient history of Edinburgh, in the days of her poverty and weakness, could in general 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 affairri=evhen it was to all intents and purposes a university; and I must say. that the history,ef this relation-appears to me to have been hOneurable to all parties concerned:-" (Loud cheers.) On the side of the teaching body we commonly find deference and trust. On the side of the superintendingeor peration 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 arc 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 fiats civilisation, it is in order that, setting before you the dignity that belongs to them, and that is reflected on their members, and the_greatopportu nities which they Offer both -of advancement and of improvement, .1 might chiefly suggest and im press by facts, Which- May be more eloquent than precepts, the responsibilities that arc 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 wilt be 'directly ser vie:,uble to-you iu 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 exigenoi6 o f life,--,-,mrtch, lastly, on the frame of mind in which you should pursue your work. Of these thre,-1 branches the topics belong ing to the first are the must obVious and simple,-for it reqnires no argument to persuade th e wo r kman that he mu s t be duly furnished with his tools and tmi,,t know how to use them. The reasons are less dirctily palpable. which have made it the habit of our • country to . spend, where means permit, many precious years. upon studies void in a great den Tee of immediate bearing mity, ; are mere upon the intended occupations of our after 'life. There may, h owever, be ' the means of showing first, that even th e di rect uses of the ' studies which you include . u nd er the' general designation of Fli .c.onsidero,ble, when they are colleCied int o O ne v i ew, than might have been.tatp 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 object, and to stock it the second. Man i§ 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 Bien or nations unless we know their tongue. Diversity of langnage was, like labour, a temporal penalty inflicted on our race for sin ; but, bein& 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 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 ` 4 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 you 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 things it is wise to believe before experience until you can know, and 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 to know that anfong you there are always many who are already, even in their ten der years, fighting with a 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 knee—when they are conscious of the pinch of po verty and self-denial, let them be conscious, too, that a sleepless eye is watching them 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 risinr, 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 huessbrought 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 be 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 ho dies lie 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, anciyoumay sufferit 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, lays false to- his noble destiny as a Christian man . ,Thla.ces himself in continued danger of chillying with wrong, and taints even his virtuous actions at their source.. Not the sublime words alone of the Son of God and His apostles, Mit 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 hnman vision have been removed, it were sad indaed,.and not mote*Sid and shameful, if that being should be- content to live for the opinion of tile moment who has immortality for his inheritance. He that never dies, can he not afford to wait patiently a while ? And can lie not let faith, which interprets thupresent, also guarantee the future ? Nor are thereUny two habits of mind more distinct than that which chooses success for its aim and covets after popularity, and that, on the other hand, whichvalues and defers to the judg ments of our fellOw-rnen, 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 conduet,„yield yourselves to the warm satis faction it inspires . ; but-yet, even while young, and even amidst the glow or that delight, keep a vigi lant eye upon yourselves, refer the honour to Him from whom all honobr comes, and ever be in wardly ashamed for • not being worthier of His gifts. lint, 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 showingothat -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 pqrentis. His charge eertainly.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 gratitudcyou owe him. The great poet of Italy—the profound and lofty Dante —hail 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 thh he cannot even now withhold his sym pathy and his sorrow from his unhappy teacher, toe 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 havo7wished -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. Suck as I have I g i ve . (Applause.) And now finally in bidding you farewell, let me invoke every bleSsing upon your venerable university in its new career • upon g the, youth . by: w hom itS halls are laddeneCl, and Ida and'able teachers by upon the distinguished whom its places of authority are adorned. (Mr. Gladstone resumed his scat amid loud and prolonge d applause.) The meeting was closed by the Rev. Dr. Craw ford pronouncing 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. TILE REFORM B EP UT TION TO LORD ,TOILN 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. Ilurges (town clerk), had an interview with Lord John Russell, at the Foreign-office, Down ing -street, for tie 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. Gore Lang ton, M.P. (the member for the city of Bristol) ; and the former having briefly introduced the depu tation, 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 at 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 were others. Bristol paid about a million and 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 JoIIN 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 TILE WEEK. (From the.l2eport of the Registrar-General.) The weather was last week unusually cola for April, and the mortality of London was nigh, 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 popul Ilion, 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, white 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 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 Sattirday. The mean temperature of the air in the week was 40 . 7 deg., which is 4.5 deg. below the average of the same week in 43 years (as determined by Mr. Glaisherl. 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 direction of the wind 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 0.21 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.. [ADVERTISBMENT.]—HoIIoway's Ointment and Pills.— Cure of Bad Legs after Fourteen Years' Duration.--Mrs. Greatley, of Dartford, was afflicted for 14 Years with bad lees. 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 Hospit a l th e y re f use d to receige her except as an in door patient, as it was feared ampuFation would be neces sary. She then resolved to try Holloway's ointment and „pills, and in the course of nine weeks these 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 indigestion (dyspepsia), flatu lency, habitual constipation, nervous bilious and liver complaints, &C., but Du Barry' s delicious Revalonia 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 diarrin - ea and debility. Cure 39,621—Dr. IVurt zer of consumption.. Cure 32,880—William Hunt, Esq., Barrister, of paralysis. Cure 46,270—Mr. James Roberts, timber merchant, of Filmley; 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 nervous, ness, indigestion, gatherings, low spirits, and nervous fancies. _ _ Cure N o . 48 , 314—Miss Elizabeth Yeo mat, Gateacre, near Liverpool, a cure of ten years dYspepsi a, - and -- all the horrors of nervous irritability. In tins, - at Is. 6d. ; llb. , 3s. ; 21b., ss. 9 d. ; blb., 125.; 121 b., ,265: The 101 b. and 121 b. tins carriage free, on receipt of pest offloe order. Du Barry and Co., 77, Regent-street, London; Fortnum, Mason, and Co., 182, Piccadilly ; Abbis, 60, Gracechurch-street ; Chenside ; 63, and 150, Oxford street; 330 and .451, Strand ; 49 and GO, Bishopsgate. , street ; 85, Tottenham-court-road. Also at Dubli n , Ileviley 'and Draper ; at Edinburgh, Raines and C c ., at Liverpool, Nixon - and 'Phew; at Manchester, Sh arp an Scott; at York, Raimes, Blanchard, and. Co.; at:Soutk araptcm, Han_dal>l and Son ' ACTIPEA - M 7 - 4 - IN F 01? INDIAN RIV.EI2B. ._..•,.....-.-.... Last week we mentioned that a train of barges, built by Messrs. John Reid and Co., of Port-Glas gow, for the Oriental Inland Steam Company of London, had been tried on the Clyde with the most satisfactory results • and as this train constitutes 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 brt adth of the train is 30 feet, and the depth of the hold about 74,- 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 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 aro 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 prep - 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 ire 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, 0 0 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, vas found to be perfectly manageable and capable of being steered with certainty and ease. O ther 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 goof it has been successful and satisfactory in every re spect.—Greenock Advertiser. COUNTRY MARKETS LIVERPOOL—ApnxL 17. A fair attendance to-day, and wheat and flour may be quoted at 2d to 3d per cental advance on the rates of the week. There was a general improvement of is in beans and peas ; barley at last week's full prices. Oats and oat meal a tolerably ready sale, at a slight rise in price. 1 11 Indian corn a considerable business was done. BRISTOL—APRIL 17. At our market to-day wheat was 2s to 3s 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 adfance on the prices of Tuesday se'nnight. All other descriptions of grain dearer. Arrivals this week : Wheat 2,542 qrs. Barley 1,583 Oats Rapeseed 325 Beans Linseed Flbur sacks. Averages for the week : Wheat 3,114 qrs., at 50s 11d l'eas Beans Duiey...—..'.. 199 -- 42s 614 Oats 3O -- 27s 6d Rye . 2G -- 368 Od SHEFFIELD-Alum, 17. A smaller supply than usual at market, but the dernand 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 24 per 141 b. Red wheat, perload of 3 imperial bushels 20s an to 21s M White y) 2ls 6d to 23s O d 79 I t Now red If New white „ 19 lBs Od to 19s 6d Beans 79 l7s Od to 20s 6d 33 Peas, per qr 42s Od to 60s Od arinding barley, per qr 33s Od to 35s Od Malting ditto, „ s ' 38s Od to 43s Od Oats 13 26s Od to 32s Od Millers' prices for flour—ls 11d, 2s ld, and 231 3d per 141 b. COURSE OF EXCHANGE.—YESTERDAY. Amsterdam Ditto Rotterdam — 11 16/ 11 17 Antwerp Brussels — 25 372 25 422 Hamburgh Paris Ditto Marseilles -•- 25 117 21 25 471 Frankfort on Maine — g 117/ Vienna - 60 13 70 Trieste ' 13 60 13 70 Petersburgh 't Madrid Cadiz Leghorn 30 , 50 ➢Milan 25 45 Genoa, Naples Palermo Messina Lisbon Oporto Rio Janeiro New York - Foreign Gold in Bars (Standard).... per oz. £3 17 9 Mexican Dollars et • 77 0 5 2k Silver in Bars (Standard) 0 5 lk South American Doublons 25- 47i 40i 122 122 521 621 40; 122 i 122 k 521 53k FOREIGN MAIL PACKET LIST. [n the following table E signifies that letters are despatched by evening mails from London, and M by morning mails._ . . . -- - t DESTINATIONS. Despatch Port 'of Mal neS l of Mails. Despatch. clue. --,--"''- Australia and Mauritius, via Southampton Ditto, via Marseill e s A M p a r yi ul 2 B ,, M E Southamp.i Mayo y 1 Bahamas and Havana via New York May 1 ° May 12, E Liverpool... Canada, &c. (by Canadn. pckt.) AprillS, E Liverpool.. April la Cape of Good Hope, Ascen sion, and St. Helena May 5, E'Devonport May 3 China, Penang, and Singa pore, via South amp t on Southamp. Apprril 21 II , S A • Ditto, via Marseill e s Gibraltar, via Southampton ..lApril 20 ,M Sonthamp. April 1. , Honduras and Blewfields .... l April—, II Southamp. April India (Calcutta) and Ceylon, via Southampton Ditto, via Mar se ill es India (Bombay), via South 'A‘ll>rrinl22o°,l 25 ampton 'Aprll27, H Southamp.. April Ditto, via Marseilles . AprillB, E l AELSouthamp. AP India 211 p p April 19 , Lisbon, Brazils,BuenosAyres,l and P. Islands May 9, HlSouthamp. May 5 . . Lisbon, Vigo, and Oporto...' Aprill7 ,M Southamp. April 24 Malta, Egypt, and Adcp, via Southampton April2C , M Southamp. A pen° Ditto, via Marseilles, A . prlll9 Mexico and Havana Newfoundland ' April24, E, Liverpool.. ' --- United States and British N America (by British packet) A pr il 2 1 , E L i verpool.. April .. N Ditto (by 11. S. packet) West Coast of Africa, Ma- Wdeesitra, India, an( California,Teneriife vene. April 23 E Liverpool.. May 10 zuela, Chili, Peru, Grey- ' 14 town, New Granad a , & c. April-- ,111 Southamp. HO 14 STATE OF TRADE.—BELFAST, April 14.—A Mo i r e active demand h as been experienced for finished goo d s American ord ers , w hi c h h a d b een o f sma ll amoun t durio* the past month, are at present coming in pretty free' ' Auction sales of linens at New York during the first to months of the year had been so extensive in some lines ° goods as to give a depressed tone to the market, and el° in regular fabrics s a les were les s sa ti s f a ct or y i n consequence of those peremptory transactions. The home trade is 1 1 ; derately active. Fine goods are increasing in stock, v( 111 the average accumulation of all lines is not large. The Mysterious Power of the Magnet is most beautiful'," developed :by Mr. F. M. HERRING, of 32, Basinghall-stre et ; in his Patent Magnetic Brushes and C om b s , w hich are th e remedy for grey hair, iveak or falling hair, neuralgia, nerro l headache rheumatism, stiff joints, &o. His Teazle Brus hego . for cloth, velvet, &c., are admirable ; they not only clear ° but preserve the fabric in a remarkable manner. The pu b arc cautioned against counterfeits,-[AnvT.] BIRT II B. C usT.--4)n the 17th inst. ; in Clarges-street, C at ' of a dauo b lter • LANGLEY.—On the 17th inst., at 7, Cleveland-ter' acef • Ilyde-park, the wife of Colonel Langley, of a son. mien, WAltD.—On the loth inst. ' at Corrig Avenue, king s ' , -• the Hon. Mrs. Somerset Ward, of a daughter. t WESTMACOTT.—On the 14th inst., at 29. Hertford-otreel Mayfair, the wife of Augustus F. Westmaeott, ~ .M.A., of e. daughter. MARRIAGES. , r as CARTER—STONE.—On the 17th inst., at St. Pan — . Church, Thomas Carter,' Esq., of Verne-hill, Kent , Jemima f Ann, widow of Edward Stone, Esq., late ° Faversham. CHAMBERS —DurPA.—On the'l6th inst., at Spanish7P lB l Chapel, William Henry Chambers, sq , to Cathenil.,- Mary, the eldest daughter of the late- B a ld w in rowe l ' Duppa, Esq. 1 • PPE A T H S. _ . BOLTON.—On tho 16th inst., at Brighton, Esq., aged SO. CRATEN.—On the 14th inst., at Brockham t n•• park, Gl°ll - o cestershire, Fulwar Craven, Eeq., aged iB. Tredeg ar Davis.—On the 13th inst., at Bedwelty House, Imaivorlis,Mon.mouthshiro, Richard Powell Davis, Esq . ' aged 49. port- GuNNING.—On the 16th inst., at Gloucester -place, f man-square, Lieut.-Col. Gunning, aged 7 9 ) k rmerlY 0 69th Regt. 'a - 4 -• G 1, 1 JIBE 13 . ---=On the 16th inst., at St. Ives, Delliarn i Greene, Esq., aged 51 adY W. G. Bolton:I; 11.1 - 1-.—On the' 13th inst., at Hoe Court, Malvern, L Mary Turner Hay. wa rit'gY MAINWARING.—On the 13th inst., Major Main late 22d Re g t., aged 62. _ - LONDON : Printed and Published by MURDO NUN"? of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at The Sun Oface,l l °. 11 0 2 i Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy , i n the (AWAY Middle.gc; Wednesday, April 18, 1860. at Gri Ch i bri I T WS( P LEi tun TI Apr Ceti Q. Pet on Jan i Air. con pert] add( H 4 Thif elegy Wit EP] dire tion boo Dun< X : 11] 'bar for 1 600 hoie form otan Barn eam blioN valu of f Ai app, JO to chi dif til ti( :1 (1 , tie del