The Sun. — London, England, 1846-10-24 00:00:00

Tif----------._.„____ .....iit 1../...,..210.....,.............- t MANCHESTER ATHENIEUM.I zuaIaNC.IIESTER, FRIDAY. —Last evening the fourth am , sotrte took place in the Free-trade Hall, when the slt are a r • , *att....it that large and elegant structure was crowded 1444,..,,,it•dressed range- ladies and gentlemen. The . ar press w ,s, nowever—tit least so far as the metropolitan F sl:raecTeer.ned—were not of that perfectly . convenient tdebr s . r its representatives had met with on previous rters sert raise Formerly covered tables fur the reporters N it •siset' to nearly the level of the platform, but . on c o ()cession rough deal beaches, off which they w . e I le ts re Pt e l l ied t° wipe - the dust with their own handkerchiefs di m e aced on the level of the flooring, and so ni_ eoh y Y tt ° tides the platform, that it was with great seen,dlm e h e s . ° tsuld hear the chairman, who could not b fleatol?,°ll,o behind a table, without advancing t e o the , ea, „ p 4 ton platform. The ' band of the 69th Infantry . tose r ' P 'ent, and at intervals, during the evening, Pin) ed it, eiiqiisito overtures, &c. elt a i r , e itlght lion. Viscount Morpeth, M.P., w-aSpitnthitihne, 14 a.`•1 1. 1 1' ; , ‘.. t a or g l u i , ) y m. h ,p ia ., Grace the Archbishop of . the Right Hon. T. M. Gibson, f the Board le f ,sir. Brown, M.P., Mr. M'Gregor, 0 . M.P., ll s l i T" ; Mr. Brotherton, M.P., Mr. Bright,_aw Cera„?w,ring, Mr. Edwin Chadwick, of the Poor Ik, 0 81 ° 11 ; Dr. C. Mackay, Mr. W. H. Ainsworth, t ..1: Chambers, of Edinburgh, Si,c. wittila MORPETII, on Presentingreceived himself, was 2. Pittg 3 :, ll4 and I^n' °n cheering. W h e n the n P . Ilse . ; u'd subsided, his Lordship said—Ladies and ge _ itparsi,altntrust that I shall be believed when I say that 1 ' l lttis et • ° ray situation. With whatever incidents . of Iso w i 1311 or responsibility I may happen to be invested re--honeured as I may be by the choice of the n o Ssi li g o,"nstit e h 1, ene3 ' — (Cheers)—on the other side of tr) l4l % t ale. bound your prospects—permitted, t as I ,et am, N I lv ,'„ part in the highest councils of the State—yet s ew, ra truth assure you, that I find something ) very to la ;o . ,sh, and large in the honour of being called upon '-(Qh sl 'e at the jubilee of the Manchester Athenmum isith eers.) And this sense of honour, and, I may . say t heedlessetta3iw,sch truth, of difficulty also, is certainly not 1 4 s uen call to mind those who have preceded me Noe s ..a,!ne,Pest upon these brilliant occasions. The last seirtorsoi this place, which I feel it a hardihood in alld e arri lis e again, answered to the accents— dee T gentle, fourd. .(ClieeZas ow Own spirit—of Mr. Sergean f t the a rumAthe itself hY, gentlemen, the name o ' live.utterancesiistietsht: that it is a befitting theatre fo_r ,n all . , bard of lon and the Athenian c , P t hrill e d ext bet"re hira, I know your spirits must have lsi zrk dinder th e part y ,! 1 ' In theaPell of so potent a magician as . . Mr. ite4s ieti Led lieve bee ery r"ai which we are ha i here sheltered, I think , hottest conflicts of political L , . 41 , to have beeimpossible. even for . his most exposed till tztic , vc n blind to the point, the genius,' the 41 4(1 0 . -i;' 'which played even around the wounds t e h n e n y . genic] and here, on this gorgeous stage, amid . . thi rY, on the topic familar to him, of literature n , %Id Print '' °I imagination, I, who could only read . i c_ t 'ess o i. i : n t whet he said, apart from all the kindling a he 1)1411414.-tioenf time-, .-nd Place, can easily believe how t te rm , wrach is not withheld from him even on the 4 elka g • te und of political controversy, lAA have here t of the ' s .l into ench„tment. (Loud cheers.) On the heldfie 1 1 Po ti . annual occasions, the first at least that was ~,gllel, s la s se ' 4l ° a size and: splendour, this chair was . natures`'ila ,„. it never can be filled more worthily, b . y_ ,-"1, Leehst.—(Ap tense.) That bright and genial illltelsiCe master of our P sunniest smiles and our . moat ts7s 4 :s - te te : e ts ' W hom as it is impossible to . read without toe, ads' and pliant sympathy, so it is impossible hip eet at least I have found it so, without a depth . of n 1f. 5i0... 11 , 11(1 a warmth of affection which the rare union u tie t'llr qualities at one commands.—(Cheers.) I t redeot : I s l e s it Ilay business to read what these, my most hi ssers, have said. But this, while it ministered , tomsT ta ttlh i r e l to my excitement, has certainly in n h o a w t a i y t nii:,' by e mbarrassment ; for I feel t "' ge ed be an office irksome to you, and hopeless tip d Isyself, to endeavour to recal in fainter expression Iv ith t ith fis.'bler colouring what was portrayed by them . tim e oufeah ~.'bier and exuberance. I feel that , at this a t Ith 1.47 ' and especially in this place, it would be at Nets' 11aPertinene to inculcate that knowledge in e n , o 4 1 7 1 14 44 y win , i "in a dangerous thing ; that commerce, Nietauer-ginally formed, and which still ennobles such _ te 't ; e a l t Y as this, is the natural ally of literature and cud th , that the pursuits which may be here . cultivated, dir ect 0 nabits which may be here fostered, if rightly t hae, e4AaIA Properly guarded, aro such as to give a kkAle e ,., \ `' a glory to the lives and characters of men and and key , e ( those who have preceded me, and of those who l'illisisiltreurld me, that the impulses anti associations With are impreised upon our own times are to hailedbe . to ,i, , , gra tit u a L - -e, and fostered with anxious attention, fr. lisp eand transmit them. Ido indeed rejoice that En. s l'eal h(3l?tn,iree seems in these our days to be rising to the_ it a emeSght of its osition, and to feel the true dignity or eti Itng--(Ch e ri B this the Tuscan, this the . 'f.cit i ° l . " ; .. ` t/,lis the A T enetian u niay have done. The worthies With hogush commerce are content to be merchants,.. e eot inter princes. If wehave h the thrones (Iteses upon seeking alliances with 41. out -eit . our . tredicis, they be their true aim t° rail but they feel it ought now to of happi- Iles; of to the same level of knowled ,_ Pes pi . Yirt °c, with themselves, the Yotl'aild(eheers.) I rejoice that in . . whole man e c b h o e ci s y t - er o , f h t h e e_ mechanical tie re w "isPute the first city in the ancit o n d t or the mo 1, °rid for m anufacturing enterprise and ‘‘,silillY„„(34,,;hilve not been content with be piled in your sr '"'ea may jostle in your orstreets, a that display of that will ac taise s arthouses ; you have not thought it sufficient to ealihsiactories tier upon tier, or magazines i t 3 4 11 c134 te the traffic of the world, but you have thought forllhail r hilliness too, to build and set apart . a home . and n_ tit c ' t innocent nt ' njo •-ment —for useful instructio O f tell;atqui ItCCODie h e shment for lofty thought, a shrine d. (Lortic;lelse,Pl'lY, a Pallas Athenm,- in a Christian lan 'ther a" kindred Long may it. . be the resort—with the over ja , institutions, -... which it does not seek . to where aloe. ' °P eclipse, but rather to encourage and excite— 'll that Wit h them may it be the favourite resort, or th,,., 1 2.,t• are industry may find engaged and engrossed in the business rep o ,'_uo . ur of this unparalleled . hive of food for their thei r " t or their flagglngs,spirits, Nis manifold difference a neutral ground for to all the b est °n, and an impulse onwards and t . ei t ,,__ and highes benefits tendencies of our upwardsnture.—(Lnud Of c'rs.) lam glad any condition, to to perceive that while the k Your institution are not conqued o denomination, so also they are not ex -413' class, to any elesively appropriated e l , ven to one sex —(Laughter and s played an important, k e llee rs o Women have a wise e dare to say not uniformly a beneficial, Dart,°l9stlhims might dare history. But, as civilisation advances, ~ have in n all confidence that they will play both a more ' a a v g e nised and a more elevated part than they have aver yet done.—(Cheers.) Among . the many r currents edding v a j i lich the restless activity of our istime . ever et tg, I trust that a prominen t one will be devoted . y to mak 4,, e the educatiok of women sound, substantial, en aatened, all that it out to be to train those who, in % e l l ea. e el —e, must be the real . . trainers, and who may be the gainers, of all our citizens and all our workmen. od cheers.) From all I can gather, the whole t,,e.t° effects of your institution have not been . confined It s While it has "inwalls and its own operations . Wa lked many ki lts own rounds it has also been suggestive of tratiedred processes; or, If I may borrow an illus le. ni t !rora one of the disputed problems of the upper fief._ its career of light and p!ogress it has thrown off 1 14 it'elf separate bodies, which harden into distinct F op I, and glow with independentlustre —(Cheers.) t 5 the 'repulse of ideas thrown out an caught up here, the'eq lecture rooms, in your school . gatherings, or in it jat4ro earnest friction of your discussions—whether y of your mem hopsnet eery much owing to the a steoeY°l4 bfficers, your founders, that, to select an in tastee? t he Public parks which add so much both to the th e and moral beauty o h are calculated lial f this great city—(Cheers) t o h public baths and wash-houses, whic l inee ll ' e dPeper effects than on the melts skin and heste--(eheers)--and all the attention which . has been agreat cle r ''*ed on sanasory regulations—(Cheers)—ml k to oti l ','„ et) utve their rise?—(Cheers.) Can you aele: , e°llree for the foundation of your industrial oe lie o s for the weekly half-holiday in your wei?r_e (ehet:' or for the early closing of your . shops 4) , qtti, B •) With respect to this last tee s i„s co with with the best interests and widest ex topic,done not re• sp e ill, of this institution, my Pos et i t 'Y called to a meeting which I believe it is pro attenti?n has been Of th t 0 bold on this same classic Associa tiost e pl ane and Salford Early Closm t g me w5... .e...( et , ground, by the members from - t 14'n mee rti.) My duties would prevent is pr e pad i nvitation with I doubt whether . i .° Ilt 1 - thei •• - which I have been honoured t tsPreeisti et meeting, and, indeed, f erf ". 1 the .'natter in which a stranger ought to in ain b e ss',ean only say, that if any general arrangement and the em ssoyed, ';'..vsd at between the employers e lvet alt h wui eit shall secure to the rising f leisure 4 °r bia l r ,s e `, 4l of Manchester a greater amount manhood and you 41 se - ' ; ;less recreation and for mental culture, no one Will i",ce more cord' ll than'myself.—(Cheers.) nheitreeive that I ha ls ve y adverted to some of . the w m . o e r . e , iedeeds t opics in connexion with this institntion, the h %di nt . t he duty of i imposed upon me, of opening .pro bOarld4 6.; tnis evening, in some sort necessarily de the instit at i ' , et me for a little time now turn Ye n wh '1 t° Yourselves, to you who are its members, here I peren°.eonsttate it, you who are its life and essence, nce hert,t4,:ve that one of the orators by whose eloquence the Youth o f° You have been delighted, when addressing enapeasi Mnimhester arrayed before him told them with otherwiss tu AllllPire• Far be it from me to tell them flame, 4„ who feel within themselves the sacred girded 1,1.",,t1pe strung to the high endeavour, who are the ter ms used the immortal race, I would address in "Are t virtu e hrl Y se th e e great moralist-poet, Dr. Johnson . And •sss Lay views, proceed, illustrious youth, guar ee o Till e ' dth t the throne of truth; Y o ur soul indulge the generous heat, Till raPtive science yield her last retreat, A nd ea son guide thee with her purest ray, -e.(ks.., Pour on misty doubt resistless day." in n „• "La cheerine. ) It ' with these views, by patient 1 , 41ry t. •. re Li wolLL.ruth, th aft,, ~ uY dilieent study, by humble-minded searching a? all real knowledge is to be wooed and s tee..iptt ( o e n hee,e.9.—equally, apart from that . shallow pre triey i t' Jamb sets up its owu speculations and sophis faith, n the place of conscious reason and a disciplined . tiN u „ .. a_nd from that blind bigotry which bears down fair ;a s.,`"nt, decides against proof, and condemns without nes wis ,g• I have said that Ido not wish—that I could ef th e I . to damp or discountenance the purpose of any th at tisin g. ... o ut around me to aspire; for I well know o r itt rai s is the property of no condition, the appanage Red a ass• It will often be seen to rise, like the fabled faces of old out of the ocean billow, from those sur hreah%,,s°eiety where you would least expect to find it, seade_ "rOugh the surrounding uniformity, and shed i t.. , vva radiance around the new horizon. —(Loud cheers.) 14', hile lam ready to track its shining course, and to 't in its e ial warmth, I would also beg to remind Yee t5,.. 4 tht g n. 4 , 14 that e : , is something more admirable than getiius, is torte° ; thcr, is something tho m 4 hope u to cc e a ss,. ali_d .that is duty.— (Loud more eh r s. valuable r.h e N it in 4,,eeeed in tho world, and to play a shining the society around us, may often act THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 24, 1846. ptiwerfully as an incentive ; but it is to be feared that such a hope has too much engrossed both the efforts and the admiration of mankind.—(Loud cheers.) I remember being greatly struck once with an expression which was used by a friend of mine, though you will perceive at once that it is not to be understood quite in its literal acceptation ; but the expression was, that " Heaven was made for those who had failed in the world." Now, there are all sorts of unbecoming and unenviable feelings, which often may accompany and embitter failure, as, on the other side, every bright and blessed quality of the heart and the mind may enhance and adorn success. But to aim at success, to meet with failure and not to grudge it, to be outstripped by a rival and yet to hear a rival's praises with an unwounded ear —these are efforts and triumphs beside which the ordi nary successes of the world are light and trivial.— (Cheers.) Success, after all, in almost every walk of life, from the aspiring statesman down to the ambitious parish-beadle, will very often be found to consist of very coarse, obtrusive, and vulgar ingredients, certainly of no heavenly temperament; while there is no grace of character, no spring of self-reliance, no element of progress, with which failure, when not earned by our own 'aches, and when sustained with an even and brave spirit, may not ally itself.—(Hear, hear.) De pend upon it the world, in more instances than we can think of, has never discovered or crowned its best. —(Cheers.) There are diamonds in Golconda more precious than the Pitt diamond or any other diamond that ever blazed upon the diadem of royalty. There are pearls in unopened shells more lustrous than any that ever yet shone on the neck of beauty.— (Applause.) The ages, as they pass by, have known their Homer, their Raphael, their Newton, and their Shakspere; but I doubt not there are in the human creation, as in all besides, prodigalities which have never yet been fathomed.—(Cheers.) I believe it to be no less true, that nothing that was ever given to us has, except by our own fault, been lest or thrown away. What, after all, is the material point? Is it to be Homer, to be Raphael, to be Shakspere, or to be merely thought a transcendent poet, or an unparalleled painter? Is it to conceive in the inmost soul the lineaments of the Holy Mother and the Divine Babe, or the idea of Lear on the heath, or of Macbeth at the banquet; or is it merely that would-be critics should commend the picture, or crowded audiences should shout " Bravo " in the pit?—(Loud cheers.) Carry away with you this great truth—carry it to your daily task, or to your evening leisure, to the quiet of your homes or to your social musters—that it matters comparatively little what you may seem to be; it matters even proportionately little what you may actually do, but it matters everything what you are. — (Loud cheers.) What you may seem is subject to a thou sand accidents and misapprehensions. Whatyou may do is often under other control than your own. What you are is under your own—you may be all you should be. Depend upon it, however humble may be any of your positions in life, however obscure the labour which en grosses the precious hours as they pass—however insig nificant your whole life's drudgery—in this mean and un envied position, in this wearing and numbing drudgery, you may mould for yourselves the qualities, you may build up for yourselves the characters which princes, if they knew them, would trust—which multitudes, if they could discern them, would adore.—(Loud cheers.) I feel that in touching on such high topics of morality and conduct with scarcely authorised lips, I may subject myself to imperfect explanations, and to much miscon struction. I know that it is often thought that ad dresses delivered upon such occasions are too apt to minister to the pride of man, and to the undue adulation of the intellect. I disclaim all such tendencies. When I tell you you may be all you should be, I do not exclude from the method of being so those aids and sanctions which are too high for me here to dwell upon. lam as confident as any one, that reason as well as Christianity makes humility almost its most prominent grace. — (Cheers.) Who would not be humble, who felt as he ought the loveliness of virtue and the magnificence of knowledge ?—(Cheers.) I should like to ask one of those fortunate men who have lately added a new planet to our system, or who, as was beautifully said on an earlier occasion, " have lent the lyre of heaven another string"—l should like to ask them whether their spirit has not rather recoiled in modest awe, than swelled in self-sufficient presumption, before the secrets of that space into which they have been enabled to dart a more far. seeing glance than any of their fellows ?—(Cheers.) And so it will be when the time has come which shall, to our enlarged and perfected vision; unfold the whole bright mechanism of stars, and suns, and systems. The laws which will then serve to explain to us why their stations are fixed, and how their mazes are guided, will only supply us with fresh reason for being more re verent, more acquiescent, more lowly.—(Cheers.) But I feel that I ought to come down from the clouds, and, indeed, from everything else, and I certainly could hardly have lighted on a more radiant spot on the earth than this present assembly.—(Cheers.) I have only to hope that all who shall have partaken in its excitement will bear away with them, not cnly the transitory emotions which the scene must so easily excite, but a settled determination, followed up by a corresponding practice, to give fair play and full scope to all the highest purposes of which the institution is, and may be made yet more capable.—(Cheers.) This must be done by associated effort. But you will hardly have failed to have observed, at least such is the case with most institutions of a similar character, how very much of the whole work is done by a few out of the whole num ber. Now, I want to inoculate all of you with the same active and enlightened spirit. I want to call upon each man and woman among you to make the work your own —to put more individual energy into the collective body, so that no member of the Manchester Athenaeum shall think that he has done his duty unless he has done some thing, according to his individual opportunities and abilities, to give encouragement, efficiency, and credit to the institution of which you have such reaaon to be proud.—(Loud cheers.) As to myself, I have only fur ther to say, th a t if, w h en t h e gay g li t t er o f thi s scene has passed away—when the strains of music are hushed, and the ailenee has fallen on th e vo i ce o f t h e speaker—if, in stillness of your quiet homes, or amid the clang of your daily labour, you shall have derived a single encou ragement to ennobling reflections and i to worth y pursu i ts; the ec or if, still more, a n y one eo under d ouer world's or such times c ome on all of us—when he smarts coldnessln and gof disappoint meat, or under a sense of th e alien ation, shall be reminded how little this y g and that, as I have ventured to say, failurreeasloes wordi signifies, o o n f i t e he; appointed means of access to heaven—if ni mine shall have contributed to this encouragement, or to this alleviation, I shall then feel that I have not Manchester quite in vain. The Noble Viscount r e :s m ut/el his seat amidst long protracted cheering. His Grace the Archbishopo of DUBLIN ladies, unont a n n e d xt g a en dd tl r e e m ss e e n d , the meeting. He said—My Lords, I was invited in the first instance to attend this meeting, and was requested to make some observations, whatever might occur to me, in reference to the subject of it, without, of course, the possibility of its being supposed that I could give you any information respecting the affairs of this institution ; or, that I could come for ward merely to pronounce an empty panegyric upon its merits, which are so much better known and appreciated by yourselves than by any one else. It would be quite superfluous for me to detain you with any lengthened observations upon the important and beneficial tenden cies of such an institution, because, I think, the very circumstances of my leaving behind, in Ireland, very important and pressing business, to be present on this occasion, shows how very highly I value an institu tion of this sort, and how warm is the sympathy which I have with all the supporters and members of it. — I (Cheers.) Very likely I may be expected to say, now I that I have come over, and have visited and inquired into your institution, what I think of it ; and, it is something to say with respect to it, that lam not dis appointed. I shall not, for I think that that would be an affront to you, say that I feel surprised at the origin of such au institution, or that it is anything more than I expected from a great and wealthy place like this. I feel, on the contrary, that cherishing that love of commerce and activity necessarily characterising a city like this, to have paid all attention to every subject connected with gain, and to have neglected altogether so important an institution for the improvement and en lightenment of yourselves and fellow citizens, would have subjected you to just reproach. I trust that you will think it no insignificant praise if I say I think you have done your duty.—(Cheers.) I was greatly interested in bearing of such an institution in so very important a portion of the United Kingdom—in a city which, I think, may be regarded in some respects as a kind of representative of empire; for I can assure you, with out flattery—of that I am incapable—nowhere do I feel more completely in England than when I am in Man chester, because it has to boast of some of the most dis tinguishedoo ft her arts, energy, countriesw hiac which we td the i m so ay me British se o e f t h t eheme ploughpm r o e s characteristic t ever ae tr wdisplayed.o rk ve m feats alyn, look upon splendid armies and upon fine architecture ; we may see many things to be found in many parts of the kingdom, but none so characteristic of the people who were reproachfully ter me d " a nation of shopkeepers." We have lived to see that " nation of shopkeepers" ob tain military, as well as other triumphs, over those who have so reproached them.—(Cheers.) But I conceive that all these triumphs are insignificant, compared with the great triumph of diffusing wealth, comfort, and civi lisation over so many parts of the world as this empire does, by means of her manufactu res an d comm erce. I say, then, that it would be a reproach to so wealthy, so populous, and so active a city as this, if no attention were paid to anything but the mere pursuit of gain ; and therefore it is that I consider that you were doing a duty, and nothing else than a duty, in establishing and supporting such an institution as this, with the working of which I trust you will, have more and more reason to be satisfied every year of its continuance. I understand that the fruits of it have been perceived in the improved character of the rising generation who have partaken of its benefits, and I trust that those good fruits will be seen yet more and more. To instruct you, however, in the benefits, the objects, and the character of such an institution, would, as I have said, be impertinent in me , who know so much less of it than you do. I have even less knowledge than yourselves, not only of this particu lar institution, but perhaps of this whole class of insti tions; for, although I have been engaged for a great number of years in the diffusion of knowledge in one ' shape cr another—in whit may be called education, either complete or partial, since all diffusion of know ledge is a portion of education—yet I have never been specifically connected with an institution precisely of this nature. • With the higher and lower institutions I have been officially connected. I have been connected with the education in one of our universities, which are seminaries for the highest classes, the nobility, gentry, and learned professions; and lately, in a still more important degree, I have been con, netted with charity schools; but that which is imme diately between the two, that which tends to improt e the classes between the learned professions and the very lowest of the people, I have not been so specifically and cloeiy connected with. Still, education, in some shape or other, either by actively engaging in the work, or by publishing or editing works connected with it, or by superintending or forming establishments for the promotion of education, in some shape or other, I have been connected with, very actively and zealously, for about 38 years—(Cheers)--and I presume that those who have done me the honour of calling upon me to ad dress some observations to you this evening, have done so from the thought, perhaps, that I should have to com municate to you some of the results and observations emanating from my own experience. I shall do so, but very briefly, begging you, in the first place, to bear in mind that when I said that I had been for 38 years con nected with eduction, I did not mean that I bad been occupied in making speeches upon it.--(Laughter.) I have been engaged in the practice of it, and not in haranguing upon it ; and therefore it is not to be ex pected that I can address you with the same eloquence that others may do who have not seen and done so much as I have.—(Cheers.) In spite of all the dangers threatened by, and objections raised to, the diffusion of education, still, upon the whole, I am more and more convinced' that the wide diffusion of knowledge will al ways tend more or less, in the end, to the diffusion of every othergood.— (Cheers.) I have spoken of the dangers attending it, and dangers there are; I do not disguise it. I believe that on this point I do not differ at all from the Noble Lord who has so eloquently addressed you, when he spoke of there being no dangers in the diffusion of knowledge ; I believe that he meant, as I do, that the dangers are not to be put in comparison with the dan gers of ignorance.—(Cheers.) It is impossible, by keeping men in darkness and ignorance, to secure them from temptation. It is impossible to guard men against evil ; though you were to shut them up in the cells of hermits, they must be exposed to temptation. in one shape or another. Men are lit ble to be deceived and misled; but it is in darknes 3 more than in light, in twi light more than in full sun, that error is liable to be mistaken for truth.—(Cheers.) I should be ashamed to dwell at any length, especially before such an audience as this, un the advantages of knowledge ; but I would have you be well assured, for I can say so from my own convictions and experience, that the advantages of dif fusing knowledge are not so generally admitted as might be supposed from people's professions. I know for a fact, that there are some persons who deprecate the diffusion of knowledge, but yet they will give in to it, and profess to favour it, merely because they find that they must swim with the stream, and cannot oppose it. I am continually meeting with persons who are for embarking in the vessel of education, in order that they may be able to retard its career. They are deprecators, above all things, of too great a diffusion of knowledge, too much education for the people, too much knowledge for their station in life, which, they say, is likely to r puff them up." Something may be given, but not too much. Why, of course, no one is an advocate for too much of anything—(A laugh) —but if all mankind, down to the lowest peasant who follows the plough, were to obtain as much knowledge as was ever possessed by the most learned man that ever lived,l should still say that is was very far for being too mueh, provided that it was a well-digested knowledge, and there eves a well-balanced cultivation of the faculties. —(Cheers.) I suppose there are comparatively few who apprehend danger to loyal principles, submissive obedience to the Government, and all the other social virtues, from the sort of knowledge diffused in this place among the middle classes of society, any more than they apprehend it from a diffusion of the same sort of knowledge amongst the peasantry. The same argument, in fact, will apply to both classes. If the mere knowledge of his letters tends to make a man less contendedly submit to his lot as a labourer, one does not see why more extended knowledge should not unfit him for some other subordinate station. Wby should not knowledge, if that be its tendency, make all men try to rise above their station, all but in the highest? I believe that the danger lies here, that where 'know ledge is very rarely and scantily communicated, the one who, by some good luck, happens to get above his fel lows, will think himself fitted to be removed to a higher class. But communicate the same knowledge to all that class, and they will not be raised above it. One of the greatest Conservatives that ever lived—all would agree with him Dr. Johnson was so—used to say, when speak ing upon this subject, " Why, sir, if a man has a laced hat, he thinks himself too good to go to the plough ; but if all men wore laced hats; we should see men ploughing in laced hats."—(Cheers.) But, then, there is this objection, and it may lie against all communications of all human good of every kind—an educated man, of cultivated intellect, but a bad man, which he certainly may be, is more dangerous than he was before. It is very true. A man who possesses the use of his limbs is more dangerous, if he be a bad man, than the cripple. —(Cheers.) A man who who has the use of speech and of his eyes is more dangerous, if he be a bad man, than a blind or deaf mute ; but, unless the tendency of the cultivation of the mind is to make man worse, we are rebelling against the dispensations of Providence to re fuse any good to our friends and countrymen, to those above and below us, on the ground that it may be abused.—(Cheers.) This, however, I wish particularly to point out, though it must have occurred to most of you, wherein does consist the great danger to the com munity of a man of cultivated intellect and great powers sharpened by exercise, if he happens to be a bad man? What is the chief danger to be apprehended from him? Why, that he will act as a demagogue on the unthinking multitude. He persuades the ignorant to receive his statements, to adopt his fallacious conclusions, to follow in all his wild schemes. He snakes them his instru ments. lie may incite them to rebellion, to all sorts of mischievous and dangerous conduct. Take away these instruments, by making those men good judges of truth and falsehood, and he has no longer anything to work upon.—(Applause.) The agitator, the dema gogue, the partisan leader, all the mischievous men who turn their talents and acquirements to such an account as that, are a kind of quacks. It is well known that if a man has a certain knowledge of chemistry and medicine, he may - play on the credu lity of the ignorant by persuading them to swallow his mischievous drugs; but if all understood medicine there would be none to take his quack medicines. — (Cheers.) Let all men, therefore, be so educated as to be capable of distinguishing the true from the false, and then, however ill-disposed a man may be, he will not be able - to mislead others. I cannot conceive of such a thing es a lawless and violent mob consisting of well instructed men, even setting aside moral instruction. Supposing that they were all bad men, there would be more generals than soldiers; but they would not be so ignorant as to allow one to mislead the rest. I conceive that the best way of guarding against the danger of putting power into the hands of bad men is to diffuse as widely as possible that power which knowledge confers. —(Cheers.) But lam convinced also that the tendency of knowledge is not necessarily to secure good moral conduct and character, but to further and promote it. If our religion was a system of blind superstition, people iowruepoludrtl oppressive s3es, b yi e tyhew t e h edm e r :oms. more eo r lt e tif r meo e yu, l i r g G i o u o s v e t r h u e ra m e n o more e w b e l r i n e danand unjusti inthianuk d w m e e r n e r w e d o u u e l e d d submit s t a t o t e o i t f b rmu torebrutes and children. But if the conduct which we recommend to them as men and Christians be conformable to right reason—if our religion be based upon solid evidence— if our Government be founded on just and fair principles, those persons will be the best Christians and subjects, other things being equal, who are best able to distinguish between truth and falsehood.—(Cheers.) I wish to be distinguished from those persons who consider that the mere diffusion of knowledge constitutes the whole of education. I say that it is a good thing, but Ido not say or think that it is the whole of education; and I wish no one to go away with the idea that I consider every man the wiser, or likely to be the better, or the better educated, for all the knowledge he may have obtained, unless it is well regulated, and a judiciously balanced cultivation of the faculties. But I say that knowledge, as it goes, is a good thing, and the people should be merely warned against the danger of ill-balanced knowledge. The man who entirely devotes himself to the cultivation of some faculty, to the neglect of the rest; the person who devotes his attention to the culti vation of the intellect, to the neglect of the moral facul ties, all these persons may be advanced in their own particular way, but it is a narrow, ill-balanced, injudicious, hurtful education. What I 'maintain and contend for is, that it is not in that case the knowledge of something that does the harm, but the ignorance of others. It is not the cultivation of this faculty, but the neglect of that. The same church, or other place of worship, that may be sufficient for a small populatian, becomes utterly inadequate for a large population. In like manner, the same degree of moral and religious education which suffices for a young child, or a person of very limited attainments generally, becomes deficient when he has acquired a great deal of secular knowledge. The church, in his own mind, has become too small for him ; but then, the evil is not in the increase of the po pulation,eultivatie übuotfibnisthinetwelalenottuosfloitaheeurltcyh,ubruchtesin—tnbootniengltehoet of the moral part of his nature. My argument may be illustrated by reference to the growth of the human frame. In the case of children who are ricketty, we are accustomed to say, that the head is too large for the body, or the limbs too large for the trunk ; but we find in this case, not that the head or the trunk has grown too much, but that the limbs have not kept pace with it —that the growth has not been even and well-balanced. And it may be added that, when a child is growing, it is not only far better, but far easier, to encourage the growth of the defective parts than to stop the growth of the body altogether. The latter is impossible ; the former may be accomplished by medicine and diet. I say, then, that when a community is advancing in mental culture, it is not only far wiser, but far easier, to give that cul ture the right direction, so as to prevent a dispropor tionate and ricketty growth, than to stop altogether the progress of the human mind.—(Cheers.) There are some who leak back with regret to the times of our simple-minded ancestors, who wero content to believe what they were told and do what they were bid, who sought for no knowledge beyond their humble sphere ; and we wbi eban, are d ws bi t t a , hnugl should pitytlot to) forkc o bt n ah s ee i k d y e rw r e that istebn t the those were greatest generation,re a te s t t h c n . d : days admira tion,ict h o ttn is in vain st u e p s p w os a e dt d dbl t a t i - i tn e g re is too great a diffusion of light. But we clothessh o ul d o f endeavour childhood.to E clothe ven t h thoughadult tu that e were the w a b g o o l e o s d y s t t h e i m n g k , e w e p p c u it e n e n o if t d p o o s s i t i . blo efil a i n g d hten u e t d t , erly e Others the re certainloywuP into well-formed adults. are whose views " remaining children, w e should grow cheerful. They hail • with rapture any kind of although W a ui . e i e i theitllnot unavoidable advance, and then,instead of tt they are more mire advance, overlook all th e d an gers which I have been dwelling upon of disproportionate and ill balanced advancement. But I would exhort you to keep clear of both of these —to consider ad v ance as both necessary and desirable, but importance, as much aspossible, to keep in mind the your selves, and in those under your control, of having in well- balanced and proportioned dan equabl e and not to those who sigh vainly and look for Listen for the restoration of infancy, nor listen to those who exult in the growth of a distorted maturity; but endeavour to keep up an equal and well-balanced advancement, as far and as wide as youcan and th en a d vance . (Applause.) I have had great difficulties to encounter in that department - of the diffusion of knowledge which has chiefly occupied me for the last fourteen years. You will understand that I allude to the introduction of national education into Ireland—(Cheers)—and, sympathising so warmly and so strongly as I do in this place and in this institution, I cannot feel a doubt that you also feel some sympathy with what is going ou in the sister country, and in the difficulties and exertions of those who have been labour ing to enlighten and improve it.—( Applause.) I can not suppose that you look upon the Irish as aliens, and as persons unworthy of your regard.—(Loud cheers.) I cannot suppose that you grudge them the know ledge which you say you are eager and anxious to diffuse among yourselves.—(Renewed cheers.) I cannot suppose that ycu would wish them to be, or consider that they must necessarily be, irreclaimable barbarians. I sympathise ' warmly myself with all your exertions, and am delighted to hear the manner in which you have manfully met and overcome the difficulties which threat ened this institution in its infancy. I have also had great struggles on the other side of the water, and I am happy to say, that with the blessing of Divine Provi dence, the Irish national system of education will prove, when there has been time to make itself thoroughly felt —that is, when the generation brought up under it shall come into activity—l do trust that it will prove one of the greatest boons which has been conferred by Govern on any part of her Majesty's dominions. And I think that I should be wanting, not to myself merely, and to the Government which has been supporting that system, but I feel that I sh*ld be wanting to the cause of education, should be wanting to the rights and claims of the poor Irish, if I neglected to take this opportunity, if you will so far indulge me, of giving a contradiction to some of those calumnies with which our Irish national system has been assailed.—(Loud cheers.) I would not hear this Manchester Institution assailed with any ca lumny in Ireland, or elsewhere, when it was in my power to repel it—(Loud cheers)—and I believe that none of you here would willingly listen to any calumny that tended to, disparage the merits, or to defeat the ob jects, of such an institution as ours.—(Applause.)--- Ours, ladies and gentlemen—l mean the national system of Ireland—is not a godless and irreligious system. We do not undertake to teach the whole of their religious belief, to give the whole of their religious education to the children of different denominations—because we could not possibly do that for all of them together, without violating the consciences cf some of them. We do not propose, therefore, to give a complete education. The system is to leave to the parents of each child the reli gious education of that child, the right of religious educa tion in that mode, be it right or wrong in my opinion, which they themselves think the best.—(Much cheer ing.) We give to the children jointly, and in friendly intercourse with each other, all the instruction which they can conscientiously receive together. And so much of that instruction, I am happy to say, consists of the knowledge of sacred history, of those great truths of our common Christianity in which, thank Heaven, we all agree, much as we differ upon other points. I could produce from many of the national schools, where the children, to the extent of more than seven-eighths, are generally Roman Catholics, children who would stand an examination, not only in secular learn ing, but in knowledge of the *Scriptures, with any school that you may select in this country.—(Cheers.) But the denial of the Scriptures to those willing to read them, you have often, I dare say, heard charged against the system, and I would put it to you, as plain English men, whether it is right to force upon children any re ligious instruction which their parents may disapprove. I never can believe that the Founder of our Religion, who, when he was apprehended and dragged away to an ignoble.death, declared that he could call on more than twelve legions of angels to his rescue, and who told his over-zealous disciple to put his sword into its sheath— I never can believe that it was his intention or desire that his sacred word should be forced upon any one against his will, inclination, and conscience.—(Applause.) I will only notice one more point, which I give not as the only one that I could produce, but as a sort of specimen of the falsehoods and misrepresentations by which our system has been combatted, and which I think will, in the end, tend rather to strengthen than to weaken it, be cause falsehood and misrepresentation would not be re sorted to by opponents if they had facts and truths on their side. What I allude to is the report which has been often circulated, that although it is allowable, it is said, for the children whose parents do not disapprove of it, to read portions or extracts from the Scriptures, yet, if any one child should object to the reading, that precludes others from the benefit, and shuts out the Bible from the whole school. lam bound to believe that those who circulate that report do not know its falsity. If they have taken any means to ascertain the truth of their statement, they must then be repeating an utter, and deliberate, and calumnious falsehood, for it is totally without foundation in truth. But I can only acquit them of the wilful falsehood by supposing that they have utterly neglected to make any inquiry from the many hundreds of persons perfectly ready and able to give them the information. There is no shadow of founda tion in truth for this scandalous story, and I wonder how any one, not overwhelmed with prejudice, should give credit to anything so absurd. If, at the appointed hour for religious instruction—for an appointed hour there must be ; there is I believe, in every school, and there is in ours—any child is forbidden by hieparents to attend religious instruction, what is the consequence, do you think ? That all instruction is at a stand ? No ; you would say, " The child withdraws." The child whose parents disapprove of particular religious instruction, whatever it may be, that commences at a fixed hour, say from two to three o'clock, withdraws ; but it would be absurd and ridiculous to say that the whole school is thereby excluded from that religious instruction. Why, I any person who may object to what I am now saying would not thereby be able to prevent all who are pre sent from giving their attention. Ile would only have to withdraw himself.—(Laughter and cheers.) No one needs to stay, if he does not like it. But lam happy in being able to add, that although the parents of many of the children have objected to send them to schools where religious instruction has been forced upon them, the children of all denominations have in a vast number of instances remained when it was left optional, because they saw that no fraud nor force was intended against them. And you may be sure that this is the only way in which any people, and more particularly the Irish, can be enlightened. You may reason and expostulate with the parents ; but never attempt to kidnap their children and to make proselytes of them. This is not a fair mode of procedure. But offer them that which is good, and in most cases you will find, if it is offered in a spirit of frankness and conciliation, it will be willingly accepted.—(Hear, hear.) I ought to apologise for having detained you thus long in what may be con sidered a digression from the matter in hand ; but I felt assured that the sympathy I have towards this place and institution must be in some degree responded to, and that you would feel the same sympathy with the wants, and with the efforts to relieve them, of the poor Irish, as I do with your efforts and success. With respect to the institution that is now occupying our principal attention, o f instructions or suggesti ons from me, because you have experience to guide you. I t is not an i nst i tu tion formed does ne ss best n e e ws m t na t p o d na m np t e i et , ,d f rfoor andm for or calculated to gi ve a complete e d uca ti o n ; but it course y o u cannot need any t from a h l e l thael wantsl r t e h fl e e n icnntdiqo circumstances rr l ci euamls have ht aanvcee been ms o a a able l ea e , busy, populous, thriving place like this. It is only a small portion of time —that portion which come s under the denomination o f leisure—that the young persons n r r v o ie fi f t thereaebnl t of et was h a p ea 1 character, o n y n e d— t oe a f in this place, or th e e l der ones either, can devote to the cultivation of th e i r minds. That p or tion, bow el n h v n e e r o c; a e e m n a t ey i i a e m tto a n a eo v r me y npt pa m tion of the man i n t h e scale of soc i a l life, I should it would say that, being mere l y i nnocent, nenlargement merely in a great recommendation ; for we know too well the leisure hours of those who are occupied for the greater part of the day is likely to be devoted to anything but innocent relaxation. But I believe that the lectures, together with the library of this Athenaeum, are as well adapted to meet the wants of relaxation and mental improvement as anything could be in such a place. Lectures alone give but imperfect and crude sort of notions to those who have not access to books. Books, again, are a sort of spacious sea, on which an unpractised student, without any tutor to direct him, might be apt to be lost. But lectures excite the desire to read, and point directly to the way in which the best course of reading can be taken. The books supply the want which the lectures have created. The lecturer will not have taught his pupils all that they feel desirous to know, but he will have taught them where to seek for knowledge and where to find it. And I consider that this Athenaeum is analogous to those great engines of your industry which excite the wonder of all strangers, and which bring wealth from all parts of the earth. A single individual. who used merely his own books, would require a large library to educate himself tolerably; and he would re quire the care of a tutor, or an instructor of some kind, to guide him. A single weaver at the loom will accom plish but little. But you have got machiner y; by which thousands and thou sands of s p indles can be ' turned at once. You have got machinery by which one person can perform the work of tens of thousands; and you can thereby produce a quantity of the best commodi ties at a small expense and with the greatest ease. The Athenaeum is analogous in character to that machinery. One library and one lecturer will serve at the same time to instruct hundreds and thousands of persons, almost as well as if each one had the library and lecturer to himself. For this reason, it is an institution particularly suitable for a large, popu lous, wealthy, and thrivin g p lace like thi a.--(dheers.) Let not the cultivation of your minds be in such a state as that you shall be put to shame by the wonderful machines you have constructed for the spinning of cotton and of various manufactured goods. Continue in this course, and may the blessing of Providence further your endeavours l Continue to work this great and mighty , whatever dangers you may engine ; and yhave to en counter, • you will surmount them, and by care and diligence em, and the benefit will be incalculable. For my part, I • come from a city far less wealthy than yours ; but, I shall keep in mind, most tenaciously, all that I have seen and learned here, and I shall apply, so far as I am able, all the principles and the practical maxims I h a ve learned towards the accomplishment of an object which for years I have had in view—the exte ns i on o f th e t . education beyo n d t h e l a b our i ng benefits of an imp roved h my attention classes of Ireland, to unt has hitherto been confined, to the middle d elasses of this country, that they may not be surprise. and n__ overgrown_ ee by those who are their inferiors in static) (_e_h _rs.) After a long oration from Mr. Da.wsoN, one of the lecturers of the institution, addressed the meeting. His Lord EBRINGTON directed ob servations were mainlyie ith metentpar l ovethat, so a f n a d r from being incom pat the honourable pursuits o e f nt trade elegant accomplishment,ddone in.ro to promote them than all and industry lead _ . 0s f of war, or the pursuits the much vaunted glen. ambition. s of Edinburgh, gave an interesting Mr. W. CsamßE ß sketch of the difficulties he had encountered in his earl' struggles to cultivate literature, contrasted with the ad vantages enjoyed in these days by the most straitened in ' their means, who pursued knowledge under difficulties. He strongly urged the acquisition of knowledge, and the study of literature for their own seke, independently of the fame or advantage which might be derived from them, and concluded a speech of considerable ability, delivered with great modesty and propriety, by proposing "Thanks to the Board of Directors of the Athenmum for their efforts to render the present meeting interesting and instructive." Mr. APGREGOR, of the Board of Trade, in seconding the motion, expressed the great satisfaction he had de rived from being present at that celebration. He had been highly gratified by the results of the inquiries he had made as to the usefulness of the institution.— (Cheers.) If there was any community in the world among which intelligence could be more eminently use ful than another, it was in a great manufacturing and commercial community like that which constituted the population of Manchester.and its surrounding districts. —(Cheers.) The history of manufactures, commerce, and navigation, was the history of intelligence and of civilisation. In those countries where ignorance pre vailed the people were the least advanced in wealth and prosperity; they were in a state of the greatest degrada tion and immorality. On the other hand , they found that with intelligence nations became great, virtuous, and powerful.—(Cheers.) If they examined the condi tion of European nations, they would find this to be universally the case, while in such countries as America they found anarchy the result of ignorance, and her un developed resources the effect of deficient intelligence in her citizens.—(Cheers.) It was greatly to the credit of Manchester that while the inhabitants had been in dustriously engaged in the pursuits cf trade and com merce, they bad not neglected the conveniences of the rising generation. Manchester might well be proud of that institution, which had encountered and overcome all its difficulties; certainly the committee were entitled to every praise for the perseverance, integrity, and ability with which they had attended to their duties. The vote having passed, and been duly duly responded to, Lord Morpeth left the chair ; and the Mayor having taken it, Mr. M. PHILIPS proposed a vote of thanks to Lord Morpeth for having kindly consented, six months since, to take the chair on the present cccasion, and for the distinguished ability with which he had performed its duties. It was impossible to do justice to the graceful readiness and good nature with which his Lordship had accepted the office of president on that occasion ; and, although it was very inconvenient for public men to make such engagements so long beforehand, he must say, speaking as a commercial man, they drew upon the Noble Viscount at six months, end he was kind enough to accept at sight. Since that period his Noble Friend had attained high office under the Crown ; but, although his occupations and public duties had become much more onerous than they were before his acceptance of the post, lie had allowed no private convenience, no public duty, to interfere with his engagement to be with them. —(Cheers.) He was quite sure when they reflected on the intimate connexions which subsisted between the Noble Lord and the large constituency he represented, similar in many respects, both in character and pursuits, to Manchester, they had touched a chord that vibrated in unison with their own feelings—(Cheers)—and he called upon them all to show their gratitude to the Noble Lord for coming among them, and for the splendid address he had delivered.—(Cheers.) Mr. W. BROWN, M.P., seconded the motion, which was put by the Mayor, and carried by acclamation and waving of handkerchiefs. Lord MouP,ETEI said, after the marked kindness, and, I must say also, after the admirable patience with which you have listened both to myself and to those who sue• ceeded nee during our already protracted sitting, I should think myself indeed inexcusable if I inflicted a further trespass on your exhausted attention. But it is impos sible for me to withhold the utterance of my deep and sincere gratitude for the cordial welcome which I have now experienced from you. I have already told you what my sense of the honour done to me was ; I could hardly tell you, before I had experienced it, my sense of the pleasure I had received. I had heard much indeed of the annual assemblies, but I must say the result has infinitely surpassed anything I could have expected. I had heard much of the Free-Trade Hall, though I must not now talk about free trade. But I certainly did not look upon its birth-place with any disrespect. —(Cheers.) I did not, however, expect to see it radient with all the decorations of the Alhambra and shining like a feast of Chinese lanterns.— (Cheers.) Your excellent Member has alluded to my present connexion with the immediate service of the Crown. Certainly, the superintendence of her Majesty's Woods and Forests would not seem to bring me into immediate connexion with the chimneys and furnaces of Manchester ; but I believe I may say with truth that there is no department of the public service which may not receive valuable and useful instruction in your good town and enterprising community of Manchester.—(Cheers.) He has also alluded to the constituency, so kindred with your own in many respects, with which it is my happiness and my pride to be connected. lam not going to allude any more to foreign than to domestic politics ; but I cannot help exclaiming, in the spirit of a former French King who had an eye, perhaps too keen—an eye to meddle with Spain—(Loud cheers and laughter)—when he said, " Henceforth there are no Pyrenees "—I feel, after the links of rapid communication which now bind to fiether the two communities, which fasten together our White and Red roses, " There is no Blackstone Edge."—(Cheers.) But you all have been listening for a long time to our wise saws and our grave maxims I must not forget that you are now called to more en livening measures and to more exhilirating movements. Your Member said he would indulge in a commercial allusion; well, I say, I see before me enough of the raw material—(Loud laughter)—of melody and of beauty, to weave into a fairy web of graceful gaiety and light hearted gladness.—(Cheers.) I commend you then to give full sway to the genius of the hour.—(Cheers.) You have already heard to-night a great deal of wisdom; but there is philosophy in mirth as well as in wisdom.— (Cheers.) You have been told that the English are intensely industrious. lam sure to-night we have been intensely wise—l now exhort you all to be intensely merry; and I cannot take my leave of yea with a better wish than that you should throughout the whole course of your lives be, in happy alternation, both very wise and very merry.—(Cheers.) Dancing then commenced, which was continued till a .ate hour. MR. VILLIERS, M.P. TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES. Sin,—llaving observed in your police report of to-day that the man who was taken up at the Athenaeum Club-house yesterday for creating a disturbance there pleaded in defence of his conduct that he wanted to serve me with a writ, may I request you to g ive insertion to the following statement? This person, for upwards of a month past, has been writing threatening letters to me, demanding a sum of money, and intimating that he would attend at the different clubs to which I belong, and that he would stop the members and inform them that he had a writ against me. To these letters I have given but one reply—viz, that I never had heard of the writer in my life, that I was totally uncon scious of having incurred any such debt as that alleged against me, and that to my recollection or knowledge I had never received any application whatever from his apparent employers; but I added , t hat if he or his em ployers could show that I was indebted to them, and would make an application for payment in the usual and proper manner, I would attend to it without delay; and taking it for granted that there was either error or something worse in the background, I left a written statement to the above effect with the porters of the different clubs which I frequented. Since writing that statement (about three weeks ago) I have never received any application upon the subject. I have been at the clubs every morning. I have never directed the servants to deny me to any one; on the contrary, I have always been accessible to any one desiring to see me. Finding, however, that the person in question was in the habit of calling at the clubs at his own time, and after I had left them, making this a pretence that he could not see me, and informing the servants that he had a writ against me, taking it for granted that he had some unacknow ledged purpose of, perhaps, extortion in view, I directed the porter of the Athenaeum, in case of my absence, to give him into charge of the police upon the first occasion of his creating a disturbance, or obstructing the members of the club, as he had threatened to do. By this step I felt assured that I should come to the knowledge of his real object. The circumstance occurred yesterday, as I had anti cipated, and the porter attended to my instructions. Had I been aware of the apprehension of the party, I should have attended before the magistrate to apprise him of all the facts, as the conduct of the offender waf totally unwarranted and quite inconsistent with the legitimate object he pretended to have in view, although quite consistent with the object I have suggested. I take the step of making this case public, as I have little doubt that the fear of publicity is the calculation (often too successful) usually proceeded upon in such cases. I am, sir, your most obedient servant, Brookes's, Oct. 23. C. P. VILLIERS. ESSEX QUARTER SESSIONS, OCT. 23 .—This day being appointed for the trial of William Clare and William Quinlan, the engine-driver and stoker in charge of the luggage train which caused the accident at the Stratford station of the Eastern Counties Railway, the prisoners, who had surrendered in discharge of their bail, were placed in the dock, when Mr. E. James, for the prosecution, stated that the prisoners having been already tried and acquitted of manslaughter, no evidence would now be offered. The Chairman said, that on looking over the depositions he saw very little evidence against Quinlan, and he should have felt bound to have ordered his acquittal. No evidence, however, being offered against either, all the jury would have to do would be to return a verdict of Not Guilty. The jury did so, and the prisoners left the bar with their friends. THE BLIND TRAVELLER.—The celebrated blind traveller, Lieutenant Holman, returned to this country on Thursday evening, after an absence of upwards of six years, during which time he visited Portugal and Spain, Algeria, and all the places in the Mediterranean, penetrated Egypt and Syria, crossed the desert to Jeru salem, and finally made an extensive tour through the least frequented parts of the south-east of Europe, in cluding Hungary, Transylvania, ;Servia, Bosnia, &c. on all former occasions, this extraordinary man travelled perfectly alone. He has returned in perfect health and spirits.—Liverpool Mercury. AMATEUR THEATRICALS.—EarI Fitzhardinge has recently come out in the character of the Elder Brother. Mr. Grantley Berkeley, in the part of the Younger Brother, was not very happy. He ranted a good deal, and was not sufficiently subdued ; but we have no doubt he will tame'down as he gets more experience.—Punch. The Marseilles wail to India, which was to leave to night, will, in consequence of the accident to theßipon steamer, be delayed till Tuesday evening, the 2 7 th inst. HER MAJESTY'S VISIT TO HATFIELD HOUSE. HATFIELD, FRIDAY NIGHT —The Earl Talbot and Viscount Ingestre arrived at the Marquis of Salisbury's last evening in time to join the dinner circle. The Queen and Prince Consort, accompanied by the noble host, and followed by the distinguished party re siding at the mansion, entered the great hall shortly after eight o'clock, the band of the Herts militia, sta tioned in the music gallery in the hall, playing the well known tune of " The roast beef of Old England." The customary arrangement of the guests was some what departed from. Her Majesty was supported on the right by Prince Albert, and the noble host on the Queen's left. In succession to the Prince Consort sat Lady Mildred Hope, the Marquis of Exeter, and the Countess Spencer and Viscount Melbourne; the Countess of Gainsborough, the Duke of Wellington, the Mar chioness of Exeter, sat in the same order, on the left of the Marquis of Salisbury. When the company were seated, the Rev. E. Faithful!, Rector of llatfield, and dorne;aic chaplain to his Lordship, said grace. The banquet was of the most sumptuous description, and comprised all the luxuries that wealth could procure. The desert was particularly excellent, and was placed under the able superintendence of Ferdinand. When all the company had taken their seats at the banqueting board, that ancient chamber afforded a brilliant coup d'cril, the hall being illuminated by a great number of lamps, in addition to more than twenty Chinese lanthorns, suspended by an invisible wire from the pendants in the roof. The table was lighted from superb gold cande labra, alternately with which were costly vases containing natural flowers. All the attendants were in full dress, and each wore a silver badge of the Salisbury arms on the left arm. The effect was truly magnificent. The Marquis of Salisbury rose at the conclusion of the repast, and proposed as a toast, " The Queen. The military band struck up " God save the Queen." The health of her Majesty was then drunk, the whole of the guests rising from their places. The Noble Host then gave " His Royal Highness Prince Albert," when the band performed the " Cobourg March." At a quarter to ten o'clock her Majesty retired from the banqueting-ball, the ladies leaving at the same time. Prince Albert and the Noble host, and the guests, sub sequently adjourned to the splendid saloon, where the Queen and a select circle bad assembled. At the re tirement of the Queen the band played the national anthem. Previous to her Majesty and her Royal Consort leaving for their private apartments, twelve of the German artists who have recently been employed, under the direction of Mr. Sang, in the embellishment of the interior, afforded the royal party much pleasure by singing some p( pular vocal music of that country. In the selection were, " Die et - Tyne," " Das Schwart lied," " Per Vogel," and " Der Kohler-bauerbube." The Marquis of Salisbury, as colonel of the South Herts Yeomanry, gave the privates and non-commis sioned officers of the four troops a substantial entertain ment in the riding-school, and before the assemblage separated, the health of the Queen and her illustrious husband was heartily drunk, as well as the health of the noble colonel. The officers dined together at the Salis bury Arms Tavern. This morning, long before noon, the park was thronged with thousands of people, who came in quick succession into the town from all parts of the country. By the kind permission of the Noble Marquis not the slightest obstruction was offered to the admission of the public, and no restriction was placed over their move ramts ; beyond that no one was allowed to transgress further than the northern court, which was amply suffi cient to satisfy any moderate desire. It was a most beautiful day, the sun shining with all the warmth that could be expected in the autumn season. The park in the northern direction presented an animated appearance from the hundreds of strangers flocking in parties to witness the bullock that was being roasted whole a short distance down the north lawn. The Queen and his Royal Highness did not go out in the early part of the morning, nor did they attend prayers in the chapel. The Duke of Wellington and the majority of the guests staying in the mansion, at tended the service, which was performed by the Rev. F. Faithfull, assisted by the Rev. A. B. Starkey. His Royal Highness Prince Albert, accompanied by the Marquis of Salisbury, about half-past ten went out to shoot in the southern part of the park. The Duke of Wellington, the Marquis of Exeter, Lord John Russell, Lord Charles Wellesley, the Earl Spencer, Mr. J. M. Balfour, Mr. G. E. Anson, Colonel Buckley, and Colonel Seymour were of the party. The battue was in what is called Coombcs-wood. Prince Albert killed nearly 150 head of game, and the Duke of Wellington was successful, considering that the Noble and Gallant Duke did not exert himself in the sport. The Marquis of Exeter made some excellent shots. The result of the morning's sport was, on quitting the plantations at one o'clock, a return of killed-158 pheasants, 4 par tridges, 152 rabbits, and 4 hares, giving a total of 318 head. Shortly after the shooting party returned to the man sion, luncheon was served in the winter dining-room. The Queen and Prince Albert, and other noble guests of the Marquis, were present. The carriages were ordered at three o'clock to take the illustrious company a drive in the park. In the meantime the populace had congregated in the park in large numbers, and had mostly assembled in the northern court, and without its boundary in the park, where several carriages of the neighbouring gentry were drawn up by the road leading to the north avenue. Her Majesty and the Prince Consort passed out at half-past three o'clock, and entered the pony phaeton which had been provided. The illustrious visitors were preceded by the Marquis of Salisbury, Colonel Buckley, and Colonel Seymour, the Equerries in Waiting, and the royal outriders in scarlet liveries. After the Queen's carriage were the Earl of Morton, the Lord in Waiting; the Marquis of Exeter, Viscount Ingestre, and Mr. J. M. Balfour, on horseback, and two open carriages and four, containing the Countess of Gaimborough, Lady Mildred Hope, the Countess of Brownlow, Lady Charles Wellesley, Lady Braybrooke, Lady Blanche Balfour, and the Hon. Miss Dawson. As the pony phaeton came by the western gateway, and passed through the north court to the north avenue, the vast body of spectators saluted her Majesty and the Royal Prince by loud and long protracted cheering, to which plaudits the Queen and Prince condescendingly responded by repeatedly inclining towards the multitude. The Queen and party then proceeded to view the ancient tree, so carefully preserved at the turn of the northern and eastern avenues, called " Queen Elizabeth's Oak," from that Queen having been seated in the shade of its umbrageous branches when the death of Mary was announced to her. We understand that her Majesty ex pressed herself highly pleased by the sight of the oak, and as a memento of her visit to the spot had a small branch lopped from the trunk to be preserved. From hence the carriages were conducted to the vineyard to view the beauties of that fairy retreat. Her Majesty and Prince Albert alighted, and entered the gardens, and walked to the lower terrace, which give a good com mand of the grounds. It may be as well to state that the vineyard is on a slope, at the bottom of which runs the river Lee. As the Queen was there a desiccated flower of the hydrangea was presented to her Majesty. Her Majesty appeared gratified at the gift, and gave the floral skeleton to her maid of honour. The party next drove round the park, and in the course of the road saw the pollard oaks for which the park is so famous. The illustrious party i eturned to the mansion at half-past four, after an agreeable drive. The Duke of Wellington took equestrian exercise during the absence of the Queen, and wherever he made his appearance he was enthusiastically cheered. The Duke of Rutland, the Marchioness of Exeter, Lord John Russell, the Earl of Brownlow, the Earl Talbot, and Lord Marcus Hill walked to Queen Elizabeth's Oak, and afterwards went over the vineyard. While the royal party were absent in the park, the Marquis of Salisbury's dependents were regaled on the lawn. Mr. Farebrother, the land-steward, was present to superintend this entertainment, but it was far from interesting, the bullock, which was roasted whole at an enormous fire nearly twenty hours, being greedily de voured. Strong ale was supplied to those participating in the feast. The officers of the Yeomanry Cavalry lunched at the house to-day, when they comprised Captains Paris, Gaussen, Halsey, M.P., and Thornton ; Lieutenants Meyer, Stratton, Branton, and Gaussen ; Cornets Sir Henry Meux, Bart., Lewis, Kinder, Pelly, Sir Robert Murray, Bart., Kemble, Crawley, and Parker. During her Majesty's visit the Hoddesden troop, under the com mand of Captain Paris, have mounted guard, and were relieved in that duty this afternoon by Captain Thorn ton's troop. All the principal families of the county have been honoured by invitations as well as the clergy. is COURT CIRCULAR. - - ller Royal Highness the Princess of Hesse, attended by Baroness Scheel, Sir Andrew Barnard, and Baron Meysenbuch, left Cashiobury-park, Herts, the residence of her Majesty the Queen Dowager, yesterday afternoon, and travelled to town by the London and North-Western Railway. The Princess was visited at Marlborough House, Pall-mall, by his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, and his Serene Highness Prince Frederick of Hesse. Her Royal Highness went to the National Gallery, and was conducted through the different rooms. Her Royal Highness, attended by her suite, also visited and inspected Westminster Hall. In the evening the Princess of Hesse, attended by Baroness Scheel and Baron Meysenbuch, honoured the performance at the Haymarket Theatre with her presence. Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and the Hereditary Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg Strelitz (attended by Baron Knesebeck), and his Serene Highness Prince Frederick of llesse, also honoured the Haymarket Theatre with their presence yesterday evening, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, attended by Lady Anna Maria Dawson, left her residence, Clarence Hous, St. James's, at three o'clock on Thusrday after noon,e on her return to Frogmore House , Windsor. SHERIDAN KNOWLES.—May we venture to ex press the hope that Mr. Knowles may yet, and at no distant period, have bestowed on him a pension adequate to his merits—he expects no more. If those whose pro vince it is to confer such marks of a nation's gratitude upon individuals whose time, talent, and strength of soul and body are, or have been, devoted to the enriching of our stores of literature, neglect or refuse to listen to his claims—ignorance of them they cannot plead—then the country, independent of the Government, must be ap pealed to; and, together with those of other localities, Mr. Knowles has, from former !association, a peculiar claim on the opulent merchants of Glasgow.—Renfrew shire Magazine. MR. 6 . CONNELL.— Mr. O'Connell is to arrive in Dublin on Monday next, and it is supposed that he will attend the weekly meeting of the Repeal Association on that day. NAVAL INTELLIGENCE. PORTSMOUTH, OCT. 23.—The St. Vincent, 120, Cap tain Milne, flag-ship at this port, will not go to sea again at present. It is expected she will be docked and return stores again. Lieutenants Moubray and Wilmshurst are superseded from the St. Vincent. The Vengeance, 84, Captain Lushington, progresses very favourably with her rigging, notwitkstanding the present and late very bad weather for the purpose. She has lower rigging over the mast-heads, caps on, and topmasts pointed. Captain Tothill, Second-Lieutenant Ilerrick, one sergeant, two corporals, and 49 privates, to complete the detachment of Royal Mar ines to 70 in num ber, embarked yesterday for the Vengeance from this division. The Tartarus steam-vessel, Captain Wolfe, is ordered from the Irish station to Woolwich, to be paid off. The Sappho, 16, Commander Gambier, which arrived this morning from the Cape of Good Hope station, after a splendid run of 49 days only, is ordered into the harbour to be paid off. She will be mustered and inspected to-morrow by the Commander-in-Chief. It is hoped that some of the crew will volunteer for the ships fitting out here, good men being very scarce. It is supposed they are waiting for Captain the Hon. H. Keppel, late of the Dido, to commission the Cambrian, 36. The Belleisle, 72, troop•ship, Captain Kingcome, arrived this morning with troops from Quebec; last from Plymouth. The troops have been landed from her by the Echo tug, the ship in the meantime continuing under weigh, and retaining the military invalids and convicts on board, with whom she sailed at four o'clock this afternoon for Chatham. The Cyclops steam-frigate, Captain Lapidge, went out of harbour this morning, and left this afternoon for Torbay, to assist the Rippon contract steam-vessel, in distress at that place. The Scourge steam bomb-vessel, Commander Caffin, embarked 100 marines from this division this morning alongside the dockyard, and sailed for Cork, where she is to await further orders. The Nautilus, 8, Lieutenant-Commander Macdonnell ' sailed this morning to cruize off Brighton for the protection of the fishery. The Rattlesnake, 26, Captain Stanley, and the Bel videra store ship, Master-Commander Wellington, will be removed from the basin to-morrow. In Harbour—The St. Vincent, the Victory, the Ex cellent, the Victoria and Albert, the Avenger, the Pene lope, the Myrtle, the Comet, the Echo, the Netley, and the Sylvia. In Dock—The Prince Regent, the Edinburgh, the Ajax, the Leander, the Crocodile, the Serpent, and the Champion. In the Basin—The Vengeance, the Belvidera, the Rattlesnake, the Amphitrite, the Naiad, and the Fairy. At Spithead—The Eurydice and the Sappho. CHATHAM, OCT. 22.—The Mutine, 12 guns, Com mander Robert Tryon, was put out of dock this day, and taken alongside the Tartar hulk, and, owing to some ad ditional works ordered to be done on board, she will not be ready for sea for a fortnight. She has her full com plement of hands on board, with the exception of two petty officers. The Albatross, 16 guns, having had her defects made good, and fitted for commission, was pet out of dock this day, and placed alongside the sheer hulk, whets she re ceived her masts and bow sprit in place; next week she will be rigged. She is expected to be placed in com mission in a few days. The Gloucester, 50 guns, which wrs expected to have gone out of dock these spring tides, will not be put out until the next tides. The Crescy, 80 guns, building, has an additional num ber of shipwrights put on, who are engaged putting up her frame timber in place. This morning, at four o'clock, the remaining part of the detachment of Royal Marines from this battalion, consisting of 3 sergeants, 2 drummers, 5 corporals, and 99 privates, under command of Captain Thomas Park, marched to the Sun Pier, Chatham, and proceeded by the Victoria steam-vessel to the terminus of the Graves end and Rochester Railway, by special train to Graves end, and embarked at the Terrace Pier on board the Lightning steam-vessel, waiting in readiness to receive them, whence they were taken to St. Katherine's Dock, and put on board the Prussian Eagle, one of the Irish steam-packets, for conveyance to Spike Island, Cove of Cork ; and First Lieutenant Andrew Wylde, of the Woolwich division, proceeded with the detachment. Captain John Tylden, of the Royal Artillery, offici ally visited the dockyard, and inspected this day the fire plugs, pipes, and everything connected with the fire engines. WooLavien, OCT. 23.—The Sphynx steam-frigate, Capt. Cragg, was taken out of the basin into the river to-day, and will leave on the 31st inst. for Plymouth, where she will await further orders. '1 he Niger steam-vessel, building at Woolwich dock yard, is to be launched on the 3d of November. APPOINTMENTS. Edward Snell, gunner, to the Eurydice; Michael Carey, acting•carpenter, to the Victory; Wm. F. Harding, naval cadet, to the Mutine; George Henry K. Bower, master, to the Scourge; P. Brown Pritchard, assistant-surgeon, to the Belvidera; John Thompson, boatswain, to the Victory, supernumerary; George Watts, boatswain, to the St. Vincent; W. L. Browne, master in command, to the Naiad; A. J. Bullock, midshipman, to the Porcu pine; Arthur Packe, midshipman, to the Rattlesnake; John Mallard (6), captain's clerk, to the Penelope; Ar thur R. Lathbury, naval cadet, to the Raleigh; D. Y. Yeoman, clerk's assistant, to the .olus. RAILWAY RETURNS. RAILWAY TRAFFIC.—The following are the Total Receipts of Rail ways for the past week—that is to say, up to the date to which the respective returns are made, together with the receipts of the same week in the previous year : Last . b 4 Week ending NAME OF RAILWAY. week. ?) ..1" Oct. - Arbroath and Forfar ••• • • •••• • • • • - 171 16 Chester and Birkenhead .•••••• • • • • • • 705 649 15 Dublin and Drogheda• •••••••• • • • • • • • 753 785 20 Dublin and Kingstown .• •••••• • • • • " 892 854 18 Dundee and Arbroath 17 Durham and Sunderland .••• • • • •• • • 645 810 17 Edinburgh and Glasgow .... ...... .• 4,278 3,310 18 Eastern Counties and North Eastern. • 10,099 7,251 17 East Lancasihre (six days) .. •••• • • • • 818 - - Eastern Union ••••••• • • • • • .. - 17 Glasgow, Kilmarnock, and Ayr •• • • 2,305 1,988 17 Glasgow and Greenock ••••• • • • • •• • • 987 834 - Gravesend and Roehester.• • • ••• • • • - 206 17 Great Southern and Western •• • • .... 1,080 - IS Great Western, 8;c •.•.• • • • • • ........ 20,055 20,137 ••-• Hartlepool .• • ....... .• . 17 London and North Western, Ste 18 London and Blackwall.... ••••• • • . • 17 London and Brighton ....... • 8,328 6,888 - Londoa and Croydon .• • • ... .. 18 London and South Western .•• • • • - Manchester, Bolton, and Bury - 996 17 Manchester, Leeds, and Hull Assoc 8,549 7,192 19 Maryport and Carlisle ••.••• • • • • • • - 17 Midland, Bristol, and Birmingham 19,067 18,271 17 Newcastle and Carlisle ...... ..... - Newcastle and North Shields.. • • - 17 Newcastle and Berwick ••• • • - 18 Norfolk ..... 17 North British .. ••••••••• • • • • • • • . - - Paris, Corbeil, and Orleans ••.. • • • - 7,097 19 Paris and Rouen .••••• • • • • • 17 Preston and Wyre ••••••••• • • • • • • • • • 687 551 17 Sheffield and Manchester ••• • • . 17 South Eastern and Branches .• ••• • .. 9,400 7,706 16 South Devon ••••••.••••• • • • • • • • • • • • 850 - 17 Taff Vale . ....... .........• ........ 1,303 1,199 18 Ulster . • • • • ••• ••• 17 York and Newcastle .•••• • • • • 5,949 5,417 17 York and North Midland . 7,069 5,512 USE OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.—The other day a pheasant, which had perched upon the wires of the Lincoln and Nottingham Railway, was killed by elec tricity. The railway people were conveying a message along the line, which was doubtless the cause of its death. The telegraph was employed the other day to stop a clandestine marriage. A young lady and gentle man decamped together by rail from Nottingham to have the indissoluble knot tied at Lincoln ; but about an hour after the loving pair had set off, the lady's mamma, finding her daughter absent, went to the rail way station, and ascertained that she had left for Lin coln with her lover. The telegraph was instantly set to work, and when the lady and gentleman arrived, a po liceman was in attendance to receive them, and the pair were forthwith taken but of their carriage, placed in a return train, and sent back to the mamma, who had un fortunately found her daughter " was out."—Lincoln Mercury. MONEY-RETURNING TELEGRAPH. Wednesday morning a lady inadvertently left her purse, containing 301., on the counter at the Witham station of the Eastern Counties Railway. It remained unobserved by the sta tion-clerk, until both the train and her ladyship left ; whereupon he instantly " telegraphed" the occurrence to the authorities at the Chelmsford station, who, on the train's arrival, made inquiry of all the lady locomoters, who immediately commenced a vigorous investigation of pockets, reticules, and purses. Amongst others, our forgetful fair one found that she was no longer mistress of her little mint ; but perturbation was soon succeeded by sensations of pleasure and surprise, on learning that, through the master medium of electric langultilv her purse was in good keeping at Witham , an d for wardedbeenorfbytbitshenifaorlvloelal•ninugs medium m P o r f passengerryobraebcolywveohad it not s fellow onsuspicion. might h a ve been accused and imprisoned, merely BROYER.--On Thurs: SUICIDE By A MINING SITARS t ha o re t br d oker, of Munster-street, Regent's Park , 44, E day Mr. Mills held an inquest lit on n e t E h a e rl b o o f dy Ca o th f l i r r t . , h a 'za m be in th e , an re d lic s eceased, said that on Friday morning he appeared much de pressed in spirits, and asked her to go into the City to 4 Ge orge ei a r Goodall, ence. g a r d a e g n e s d . transact some business for him. She went, and on re turning about seven in the evening, found that he bad gone out to a neighbouring tavern. She sent for him, and he came, evidently atfected by liquor, which was not an unusual occurrence. A short time afterwards he went to bed, and was soon seized with what she thought a fit. A medical man was promptly in attendance, and treated deceased for what he considered a naturally sudden attack, but without success, as death almost in stantaneously ensued. Deceased had frequently alluded to self-destruction, both in the presence of witness and her daughter. He was in the habit of taking opium, and a short time since took four times his usual quan tity, which, though it did not destroy life, had pro duced the most prostrating effects. There appeared to be nothing in his pecuniary affairs to affect his mind, but it was proved that his father had been the inmate of a lunatic asylum. Dr. Jenner, who had opened the body, found Prussic acid in the stomach, and said that death was caused by that poison. Verdict " Temporary insanity.' Dr. Cabusse, one of the prisoners of Abd-el-Radar, has been created by the King a Knight of the Legion of Honour, as a reward due to his devoted attention to hie fellow-prisoners.— Galiyn ani.