The Sun. — London, England, 1865-05-01 00:00:00

Banquet at the Royal Academy, On Saturday the anniversary dinner of the Royal Academy took place at the Rooms in Trafalgar square, when a distinguished company assembled, on the invitation of the President and Council, at once to share their sumptuous hospitality and to enjoy the opportunity of inspecting the beautiful works of art which constitute the Exhibition opened to the public this day. Among the company were his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, the Archbishop of Canter bury, the Archbishop of York, the Archbishop of Dublin, the Bishop of London, the Bishop of Oxford, the Bishop of St. David's, the Lord President of the Council, the Secretary of State for the Home Depart.. ment, the First Lord of the Admiralty, the Secre tary of State for War, the Secretary of State for the Colonial Department, the Secretary of State for India, the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain, the Duke of Devonshire, the Duke of Rutland, the Duke of Cleveland, the Duke of Argyll, the Marquis of Salisbury, Earl Grey, the Earl of Clarendon, Earl Stanhope, the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Shaftes bury, Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe, the Earl of Warwick, Lord Taunton, Viscount Torrington, Lord Chelmsford, Earl Somers, Lord St. Leonard's, Lord Ravensworth, Viscount Strangford, Lord Stanley of Alderley, the First Commissioner of Woods and Buildings, Lord Stanley, Mr. Wal pole, Lord Houghton, the Privy Purse, Viscount Bury, Lord Monteagle, Mr. Lowe, M.P., the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench, the Lord Chief Brron, the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, the Master of the Rolls, Sir Charles Lyell, the Lord Mayor, the Earl of Meath, Dean Milman, Dean Stanley, Sir J. Nkington, the Master of the Horse, Mr. Grote, the Attorney-General, Sir H. Cairns, the Solicitor-General, Lord Naas, Lord Robert Cecil, Lord John Manners, Sir E. Cust, Sir G. Back, Sir J. Tennant, Mr. Beresford Hope, Mr. Chichester Fortescue, the President of the Royal Society, the President of the College of Physicians, Professor Owen, the President of the College of Surgeons, the Chairman of the Board of Customs, Mr. Tite, M.P., Mr. Thomas Baring, M.P., Professor Partridge, Sir R. Alcock, Dr. Liddell, Mr. A. Trollope, Mr. Gre gory, Mr. Wilkie Collins, Mr. Anthony Froude, Mr. R. Browning, Mr. John Forster, Mr. C. Dickens, Mr. Pender, Mr. Arthur Mills, Mr. Henry Seymour, Mr. T. Jas. Caird, Colonel Clifton, Equerry to his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, the Field Officer in Brigade Waiting, &c. There was a full attendance of Academicians and Associates. Sir Charles Eastlake, President of the Royal Academy, occupied the chair. The dinner services were supplied by Messrs. Willis, of St. James's-street. The Bishop of Oxford, honorary chaplain, said grace. The musical arrangements were under the direc tion of Mr. John Foster, assisted by Messrs. W. Coward, Montem Smith, Walker and Lawler. The usual loyal toasts having been duly honoured, The PRESIDENT said,—We are, on this occasion, honoured with the presence of some of the highest dignitaries of the Church. I take the opportunity of expressing our sense of that honour and our_ap preciation of the sanction which, on this and other occasions, the presence of most reverend and right reverend prelates has conferred on the cultivation of the fine arts. (Cheers.) I trust that those arts will always be so practised as to be consistent with the best interests of society, and conducive to that im provement which is sometimes no less promoted by the influence of general education than by direct instruc tion. I beg to propose the health of those dignitaries of the Church who on this occasion honour the Aca demy with their presence. I may add that striking portraits of two right reverend prelates present, the Bishops of London and of Oxford, adorn thesewalls. (Cheers.) I beg to connect the toast with the name of the Archbishop of York. (Cheers.) The Archbishop of York—Sir Charles Eastlake, I have pleasure in fulfilling the duty which you have laid on me, with the concurrence of my most reve rend brother on your left, that of returning thanks for your kind welcome of the representatives of the Church who are present on this occasion. It is im possible that ministers of religion can fail to take an interest in artists and their works. We are teachers—artists are teachers too. (Cheers.) Per haps our teachings are sometimes found too direct and too urgent—nay, even sometimes they are thought too long. The beautiful works upon these walls, scattered as they soon will be through many homes, will continue to teach with a certain silent eloquence which can be put aside at will, but which will make itself felt again and again. Records of heroic deeds, the resemblance of the great and good, even the presentations of natural scenes, calm, pure, and healthful, will serve for generation after generation to stir up the flagging spirit or to recall it from its aberrations to a truer state. I remember a dramatic sketch by one whom I must call one of the greatest of our modern poets—Robert Browning—of which the motive is that men immersed in various scenes of passion, selfishness, or cupidity, are suddenly awakened by the innocent voice of a young peasant girl, making a holiday, and singing thoughtlessly as she passes them by accident some little song that gives expression to her joy. The touch of nature awakens them from their dream of wicked passion, conscience resumes her work, and the evil spirit de parts. So shall it be with works such as I see around me, and minds in many moods, resting by chance upon some noble face or on some natural scene, shall be called back from their dreams of de sire, or hate, or covetousness, and find them selves restored and refreshed by the mute voice of the artist, and the passion, potent and yet false, shall be driven away by the voice of truth. (Cheers.) How, then, can we help, we who are teachers of re ligion and morality, being interested in another form of teaching, such as you who are artists ex hibit here to-night ? (Cheers.) How can we help being thankful that art, which might be powerful to debase and corrupt and effeminate the people, does SO much to raise and ennoble them ? This is the ground on which we are present here, and on which we take so much interest in this valuable institution that art as it is practised here is one of the prin cipal means by which the mind of the nation may be instructed and its character trained and raised. I sincerely thank you for the honour you have done us, and for the pleasure we have derived from the works gathered within these walls. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT—The toast which I have now to invite you to honour is " The Army and Navy and the Volunteers." No customary tribute on public and festive occasions can be more appropriate or more sincere than that offered to the services which are the Subject of the present toast. Even those devoted to peaceful studies, who, as zealous Volten teers, are comprehended in the toast, reserve to themselves their citizen right of joining in cordial and grateful acknowledgments to the army and navy. It has sometimes been said that the com mercial and even the pleasure-seeking habits of our countrymen, by rendering them familiar with the excitements and the perils of the sea, have tended to keel alive and quicken their sympathies for the ct mariners of England." On land the Volunteer may be said to constitute a similar or rather a closer element of union ; for, from the practical knowledge which he acquires of many military duties and re sponsibilities, he takes a deeper interest in the career of the professional soldier, appreciates his exertions, can comprehend his privations, and re joices with a more intelligent participation in his success. (Cheers.) In proposing the toast " The Army and Navy and the Volunteers," I beg t o connect with the army the name of his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief, with the navy that of the First Lord of the Admiralty, and with the Volunteers that of Viscount Bury. (Cheers.) His - . Royal Highness the Duke of CAMBRIDGE—. Sir Charles Eastlake, my Lords, and Gentlemen, — I rise to respond to the toast for the army, and in doing so I only express the sentiments of my pro fession when I sa y th a t we are a t a ll times highly gratified in being remembered at the social board by our fellow -countrymen. It has been our good for tune on previous occasions, as I think I have before observed in this room, to supply subjects for the delineation of the artist, and I apprehend that the lack of such representations in the present Exhibi tion is a proof that the public feeling is absorbed by more peaceful, and in many respects more agreeable, rHE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENIN(4, MAY 1, ma, topics than military exploits. I cannot say that I its devoted admirers will rejoice in expressing the de regret this, for of course whatever conduces to the light they experience year by year in witnessing the happiness and prosperity of this country must fresh triumphs it achieves—(cheers)—hoW, by its creative always be most acceptable to th e serv i ce to w hi ch I power, it embodies in f orm an d co l our t h e f acts o f hi story belong. It is not our wish to see wars engaged in ; and the fictions of poetry, adding a fresh charm by the 'c touches of the pencil to graphic na of the on the contrary, it is o ur b us i ness to try and avert one, to the thoughts that breath t e and words that burn of the the calamities of war, and if we can succeed in that other ; how it commits to the canvas in faithful and glowing respect I flatter myself we perform our duty as colours the stirring events of our own days (pointing to Mr. successfully, and are a s muc h en titl e d t o t h e goo d Frith's picture of the Roy a l A ca d emy ) —how it commemo raeffteertaswie'tfh inarv kindre e d llo g us enf pow e e ff r e an rte d w ma hi t e c h hl w e opinion of our coun t rymen as if we performed our grae s e s r e on c e daythe toearly be duty gallantly on the field of battle. (Cheers.) / crowned by an undying celebrity (pointing to Mr. Phillips's But besides this, I trust I am not mistaken in sup- picture of Murillo as a youth) ; how with its mute eloquence posing that the artists of this country have a real it can raise the soul to devout aspirations, as we gaze on the affection for the service with which lam associated, saints and seers of Sacred Writ, rapt in holy:meditation (re forming, as they do, one of th ose V o l un t eer corps ferrin . g to Leighton's " D av id") ; h ow i ts present e ff orts great willm andtime to good come wh o recall, ar which have just been mentioned f rom th e cha i r.moree r x tt b o it l in ife g a te nd actio fut nthe e no gene (Cheers.) lam happy to find that the Artists Corps rations the mind and character revealed in the lineaments have been in no respect reduced either in number and expression of the countenance ; how it presents to the or efficiency—(cheers)—and I feel persuaded imagination &any a moving incident of real or fictitious that while they have on this and many o th er life, which kindles o ur s y m p a th y w ith t h e j oys and sorrows obligations ourfellow fo - r m w en h . ic C h wheeacers.)owTlehdese,e ourselves other occasions with their peaceful arms deliare - elves so d m eb e t o o f rs ih to e neated so agreeably the representations of various the members of the Royal A ca d em y g and their associates ; kinds which we see around us on these walls, and I know not that we can find any more appropriate way they would with their warlike arms be prepared to of repaying that debt on the present occasion than by the grasp the rifle and the bayonet, and do good service offering of our fervent wishes for the continued and in to their country, should the hour of need a rr i ve . creasing prosperity of the Royal A ca d em y. (Ch eers .) M ay (Cheers.) I trust, however, that hour of need will and smissi thonee heartver be, as it has charms in times past, to touch not arrive, and that it will be the good fortune of h e teache creations while it st heeyto subservetroug the n cause of morality and religion, by awakening through the army and navy to do the fighting part without of genius on the canvas such pure emotions the assistance of the Volunteers. I sincerely hope an d such elevating thoughts as may delight while they i m .. we may often have the pleasure of seeing them in prove the beholder. (Cheers.) I request you all to accept the toast of L 6 Prosperity to the R o y a l A ca d em y," an d t o their military capacity, but that their duties may be confined to the peaceful position of Brighton or the drink tot the health of Sir Ch ar l es E as tl a k e , w h o so a bl y rs ) worthily pre extended battlefield of Wimbledon-common. principles tution of his art, ch an ee and so (Cheers and a laugh.) siddimte es over s the this institution. The PRESIDENT, after duly ackowledging for himself and The Duke of SOMERSET --It is my duty and plea- colleagues the honour conferred on the Academy, said,—lt sure to reply on this occasion for the honour you is most desirable that these recurring exhibitions should have done to her Majesty's navy. It is true, as his keep pace with and con fi rm th e pu bli c feel i ng at present so strongly manifested i n f avour o f th e fi ne arts , and t h e royal highness has already said, that in these days neither the army nor the navy are called upon f or observations. to which we h ave h a d th e p l easure of listen thosemg justify the con c l us i on th a t suc h i s t h e case. Those great exertions which in former times th e y have observations, th e genera l es ti mate o f the exhibition, the performed, and which again they will perform when allusions to particular works, and the reflections suggested duty calls upon them to do so. But whenever the by them, must have been gratifying alike to the friends and opportunity has been afforded—whenever the navy the professors of art. Our regret from time to time is that has had occasion to be employ e d, as l a t e ly i n N ew we miss the producti ons o f th ose w h o h a d l ong contributed I Zealand, in Japan, and I might add in the River to the . attractions of the annual display. On the present tive . andblecameJohn toW a f t ; Plate, where one of our finest vessels was suddenly son o Go n rd we on, w .ss ho t s h e e ac por traitsoou red of lißfeir enveloped in conflagration—the officers and men close soon after our last meeting. More recently we have have shown that they retain that high character of had to deplore the loss of David Roberts. His pictures are so courageottention to discipline, and ready obedience familiar that it is quite unnecessary for me to speak of their which have enabled them in former times, and in merits ; but whoever has had an opportunity of seeing the exhibition of his drawin gs w hi c h h as recently taken place will more serious confli c t s t o up h o ld th e h onour o f t h e British name and win for themselves the enthusiastic probablyh e a x v ia e te c n on ee ce e i f v a ed l a st e ill pr h e i pe gh rt er ien id e e f a t o h f at h s is eri po es wers. was The very admiration of their countrymen. (Cheers.) I will scarcely known to his intimate friends, so unostentatious was not trespass on your time by dwelling on the merits the artist's character, so genuine his love of art for its own of the navy. It may be true, I think it is, that the sake. (Cheers:) Of living Academicians, it is not to be sup navy has not of late done much for the arts, and I posed that all who are absent from these walls have not am afraid that the vessels we now build will not be been d ze in alo th us e ly ra e l m ae p e loLed. ea S t o m m in e, at a e s r is an w d e l ll t k a n k o e w th n ie are en : very decorative on your walls. (A laugh.) But they gaged of announcing that Mr. Maclise has just completed °Plr tell me it all depends on the proper education of the there another of those gigantic works which, I cannot re eye--(a laugh)—and if you will but educate your eye frain from saying, will contribute to immortalize his name. lam in hopes that even these square-looking dark (Cheers.) With regard to the present exhibition, as the in things without any masts may still be the objects creased employment of art necessarily increases the number of your admiration. But it will, I fear, require a of exhibitors, so it involves the painful impossibility of ac great deal of education. (A laugh.) In the mean- eaconmdimdaodteatainfegrian ace. p l r t ese ia n n t n a n pa ee rt e z t e r n y ts te al d l w th e e ll m e e n ri t to hL io te us e while, without further trespassing on your time, familiar difficulty, a remedy for which will, we trust, in allow me to thank you for the honour you have done time be provided. I have to propose, as the next toast, the me in connecting my name with the Navy. (Cheers.) health of a nobleman and a statesman who, in the midst of Viscount BURY—It has become the habit of late political cares and duties, has ever been duly sensible of the years to associate the toast of the Volunteers with public h advantages g d es which the cultivation of the fine arts, the Army and Navy. It may be that in times to t e e s p a re ra peee ~ TheuHcaetaliotnh, of ca Eari n arl confer. l el f .” haj c e h t e h e e re h .) onour come, if the Volunteers, as I sincerely hope they Earl ThessEnt—l have to thank you, Sir Charles, for the will, continue to form part of the defences of Eng- honour you have done in proposing my health. Had my land, they will, as a matter of course, be associated noble friend Lord Palmerston been here I have no doubt with the twoservices ; but now, almost in the infancy you would have drunk his health in connection with the of that force, no Volunteer worthy of the name can indisposition you have justg t ir t i h i, and t l .fi onl reg i r i et that t s h ome slight hear the toast proposed without being reminded Hen: P e e d: l as we p ha v ve all experien ced, i on ' this e m o occasion eWxrh that it is only by the kindness of the company that respect to myself I may say I have had the honour of an in they are so associated. I should, perhaps, speak vitation for some 40 or 50 years to your meetings, and it with rather more humility on the present occasion has always given me the greatest pleasure in being able to as a Volunteer if it were not that his Royal High- attend this anniversary. I have every year derived great ness the Commander-in-Chief has already reminded delighttime, I must m inwi t ea tnessin your achievements long ; . n ,at eallowed thesame you that the Artist s ' C or p s f orms part , not the me I have almoyst thate very yegar h had th g e e m x i P s e fo n rtune to miss least distinguished, of the Volunteer force of the some favourite artist, and thus to mix regret with the en metropolis. (Cheers.) I have myself had that dis- joyment which I have received. You have mentioned one tinguished corps under my command, and I cannot now nolonger among uswhoml used to congratulate every tell you how exceedingly proud a " vain man dressed year on the merits of his pictures. I refer to the late much in a little brief authority" must feel in being able resiz i t n ed of D E all hu ß r o 7 b:rt e s s . lle ( d C i h t ee . rs s : ) ow S n ir ro W ins al n t t e ic r to S w co n tt :, to order the members of such a corps, animated It tast g e was first employed there, but from the colours in with the love of nature, or with a pretty girl on the which ho showed London I may say he had given us a line of march to look straight forward. (A laugh.) right to apply that epithet to London. (Cheers.) Among the I cannot but remember, with that melancholy satis- pictures I have seen to-day there is one that could not fail faction with which we look back on the merest to strike me, particularly as you have drunk the health of trifles connected with those who are gone, that that I mean h the mos t tr e ev ie a t n u drig de h a t e r ri ev. pr in ela t t h es e w c h ata o are le u n e ow as pf , es 4 e n n ee t— n distinguished artist whose na me h as b ecome his- Elizabeth's rpr re oothache." (A laugh.) [The g scene is taken torical—l mean John Leech—was a volunteer— from the "Lives of the Queens of England," and represents (cheers)—and that I had the honour to teach him the determination of the Queen to resist the extraction of a the goose step. (A laugh.) His Royal Highness tooth, till Aylmer, Bishop of London, stood forth, and told has said that he hopes our Volunteer force will her that although an old man and not having many teeth to always confine its efforts to the bloodless fields of Fi t f p s a h r e s , would sh e sh t o h u le ere seeh bea e practical experiment of it t o h n himself, Brighton and Wimbledon. I, too, trust that will be extracted one of h y is teeth, u a m n g d e the Quee e n u ' p s e u u nwill s i ur ngn ge e e s u s the case, but we must remember that the Volunteers was ultimately overcome.] I compared that with another are Englishmen, and in whatever capacity they are picture I see before me, named in the Catalogue as " The called on to do their duty they will do it. (Cheers.) Connoisseurs." One would have expected to see under such The PRESIDENT—Gentlemen of the Royal Aca- a title two or three very shrewd-looking gentlemen disposed demy, the toast which I have now the honour to to tell the artist, according to Goldsmith's well known story, propose, and which I give in the form prescribed of tha take t n t m he er p e ic pa tur in e e, m e i r gh m t ak h i a n ve been much better ofs that hetterif kind. had old, is << The health of the nobleme n and gentlemen But instead of that I was muchgsome surprised to see two dogs who this day honour the Academy with their pre- looking over Sir Edwin Landseer's shoulders, as if criticis sence." (Cheers.) Whatever may be the station ing the picture he is drawing. (A laugh.) From the obser or the profession of those to whom we now desire to vation of these two pictures a gentleman was led to remark offer the expression of our respect, we are entitled to that it was much better to m be one of Sir Edwin Lanseer's regard them all as well-wishers to the fine arts—a dogs than e o vi ne de o n f t Q I yu Queen n s the taste taste for which is, happily, compatible with every and happiness of his dogs. (Cheers and laughter.) But I position and with every occupation. As represen- will not trespass on your time by further remarks. I beg tatives of the still increasing class of cultivated again to express my admiration of this institution, and my amateurs, we owe them renewed acknowledgments, thanks for the honour you have done me. (Cheers.) for to their favour, whether evinced by the direct Th ePRE sipL e " list — before Wi tho me, eI adhering to the strict order of encouragement of the fine arts or by an enlightened th e t oasts in the " The Interests of Literature." This w toast,accompanied now beg to propose by interest in their progress and applicati ons , th e pre- our emphatic acknowledgment of the debt which art has sent widely-spread feeling for art among all classes ever owed and will ever owe to letters, comprehends a large is greatly to be ascribed. (Cheers.) That favour proportion of the distinguished personages here assembled. may be said to have been manifested of late years Many of those who deign to be our guests, and who have in one sense more distinctly, p r od uc i ng corres p o nd- earned great literary suc cess , are renowne d i n the Senate; ing beneficial results. The ti m e was w h en appre others are conspicuous ornamen t s o f t h e Ch urch or of the learned professions. In the practice of the formative arts ciation of the fine arts, though displaying itself in there is generally a decided line of demarcation between many substantial forms, was rarely indicated by any the professional artist and the amuteur. In letters it is not open avowal. The very earnestness of a predilec- so—there are no amateur writers. All literary candidates tion is sometimes opposed to a public confession. for fame come before the public on nearly equal terms, and The friends of art seem to have looked upon it much the consequence is that the author by profession has not as Goldsmith regarded hi s l ove o f poetry, which he only the whole world to please, but the whole educated describes as— world to contend with. In selecting a representative at My shame in crowds, my solitary pride." This reticence has given way to a sense of duty, and on occasions when public utility has been the all sufficient motive for departing from it. The change to which I allude has been chiefly brought about by the application of the fine arts to what is called in dustrial art, and more especially in schools of de sign ; for, by a natural reaction, the tangible uses of art again invite attention to its more refined adaptations. (Cheers.) Many a nobleman, many a member of Parliament, and some whom we have the honour to see here to-day, have, at various times, felt it incumbent on them, in support ing such schools, to address very mixed audiences on subjects connected with the arts of design ; and, although on such occasions the ostensible object has been to further the tasteful improvement of manu factures, the speakers have not unfrequently been led to enlarge on the purposes of art in a wider sense, and by recommending the study of nature and of works which nature :has inspired they h ave a t once stimulated industry and awakened a taste for rational enjoyments. (Cheers.) These duties, considered as possible means of promoting the public welfare and material and moral improvement of many, have been readily undertaken by distinguished and disinterested individuals; and there can be no doubt that such intercourse has, of late years, been a prominent cause of the progress of the general public in the intelli gence and enjoyment of the fine arts. I give you the health of the noblemen and gentlemen who have honoured us with their presence this evening. (Cheers.) The Archbishop of CANTERBURY said—Sir C. Eastlake, your Royal Highness, my Lords, and Gentlemen—l desire to tender, in my own name, and in behalf of all those who have been privileged to be your guests on the present occa sion, our cordial thanks for the honour you have thus done us in proposing our health. It is, indeed, a privilege which we justly prize, as I think may be clearly evinced by the response which is annually made, sir, to your call, and by the unfailing assemblage of the heads of the Church, of the most distinguished ornaments of the legal and other professions, of the foremost men in literature, in science and art, to partake of your brilliant hospitality. (Cheers.) We gather around you, sir, to bear our willing homage to genius, and to testify our gratitude for its splendid results as exhibited on these walls. (Cheers.) This is not the time at which to enter on any lengthened disquisition on the art of painting, but it is the occasion on which all once from the aristocracy of intellect and the aristocracy of rank, I am therefore not departing from the catalogue of public contributors to the literary attractions of our time. In connection with the toast I have the honour to propose the health of a nobleman who has solaced the intervals of important and useful public labours by a happy in tercourse with the greatest poet of antiquity. I have the honour to propose " The health of the Earl of Derby." (Loud cheers.) The Earl of DERBY, who was loudly cheered, said—Sir Charles Eastlake, my Lords, and gentlemen, to the great majority of those who are honoured with invitations to attend this anniversary festival, it is one not of the least at tractions that we can enjoy the company and feast presented to our eyes without being called upon to perform any part of the ceremony ourselves—(a laugh)—and, with the exception perhaps of those members of the Government called on to return thanks in some official capacity, or those connected with some of those societies which this illustrious Academy delights to honour on this and other occasions, your other guests come with the happy consciousness that they may enjoy in silence that which is presented to them. (A laugh.) It was in that happy;conviction that I came here this even ing, and I must say I never was more taken aback than when, immediately after we sat down to dinner, you, Sir Charles, informed me of the cruel kindnessyou had destined for me. (Cheers.) I confess I had at the moment a very strong disposition to be seized with a sudden and violent indisposi tion—(a laugh)—for I felt myself very much as if I were the wrong man in the wrong place—(cheers)—in return ing thanks for such a toast ; and when I looked around me and saw so many who are identified with general literature, with literature in the various walks of fiction, poetry, his tory, science, and divinity, I certainly felt that you had committed what indeed is not a frequent circumstance with you, a great error in judgment, in calling on me to return thanks in the name of literature. (Cheers.) Why, Sir Charles, I really feel, and I am sure those I am addressing must feel, that I have no claim to respond for the literature of the country, any more than any person might have a claim to be admitted to the distinguished honour of belong ing to this Academy on the sole pretension of having pro duced one single copy, however faithful, of one of the great masters. (Cheers.) It is true I have had before me in that great work to which you have done me the honour of alluding a masterpiece of art. And if it be true that ut picturapoesis—if it bo true that poetry is word-painting and painting is visible poetry, then I think I may venture to claim for that great original I have endeavoured to copy, that he was among the greatest painters of any country in the world. (Loud cheers.) For, let me ask you and this assembly what are the great qualities which aro required to form a distinguished Ninter ? First, I apprehend, they are fidelity to nature, a genuine appreciation of the beauties of nature—a vivid imagination—a correct and anatomical knowledge of the formation of the human frame—a correct and almost equally anatomical knowledge of all the express along, feelings, and passions of the human mind—a correct ness of outline—boldness of touch—a vividness of colour ing—a judicious distribution of light and shade ; and, the great quality of all others, in grouping the subjects toge ther, so to arrange your groups that each individual figure should possess its own characteristic merit and position, and yet all unite to concentrate the eye and attention on the great central and principal figure of the group. (Cheers.) Now, if these are really the characteristics of painting, I claim for Homer that in no age and no country has any painter surpassed the infinite variety of his achievements. It is not in one branch alone, but it is in historical paint ing, in landscape, I may say even in portrait painting, he stands almost unrivalled in each and every one of them. (Cheers.) If he desires to bring before you an extended group of gods, or warriors, or chieftains in debate, he pre sents a variety and individuality among them that would create the envy of a Maclise, a Herbert, or a Frith. If he desires to represent the ocean in its milder or stormier cha racters by a few rapid touches, he produces a sketch a Stanfield might look on with envy. If he paints a vine yard or harvest home, he bathes the landscape in a flood of light which a Linnell would hardly venture to emulate. And, passing to the wilder features of rural life, the repre sentation of the passions and contests of the brute crea tion, if he attempts to describe a lion springing at and striking down a bull in the midst of a herd, or a wounded boar turning on his pursuers, or a pack of wolves with blood-stained jaws lapping with their lean tongues the cool surface of some dark-watered fountain, or a wounded panther writhing itself up the spear that has transfixed her in order to reach her assailant, the few touches which Homer gives bring before the mental eye the whole scene with a life and vigour which could hardly be equalled by an Ausdell or surpassed by a Landseer. (Cheers.) He must be cold indeed—he must be insensible to all the beauties of poetic language, who could sit down and study and endeavour to imbue himself with the spirit of such an original, without catching some faint emanation of its spirit. I only wish it could have been in my power by language to represent to the mass of my fellow countrymen the grace, simplicity, and power of the original, with as much power, as much classical talent, and as much ability, as have im mortalised the illustrations of Homer by Flaxman. (Cheers.) But I feel how unequal I have been to the task I had un dertaken. (Cheers.) I doubt not there may be among those whom I have _ the honour to address many who in earlier days sat down before some great masterpiece of art and de termined, not servilely to copy each line which they saw before them, but to fill themselves with the full perception of its beauties, and when, after devoting days and weeks and months to a faithful copy of the great work they had set before them, it had been completed amid the applause of the public and the congratulations of friends, their own feeling of internal consciousness told them how far short they had come to the original, what an immense distance there was between their best efforts and the work they had before them. (Cheers.) Most unaffectedly such are the views with which I look back on those efforts of mine, which you have been pleased to honour with approval this night. (Cheers.) But while feeling how unworthy I am to receive the compliment you have paid me in this presence and on this occasion, I need hardly say how deeply and gratefully I feel the honour which has been conferred on me by this distinguished assembly. (Loud and continued cheering.) The PRESIDENT—Great exertions have been made by the various committees connected with the Dublin International Exhibition to render that display worthy of the occasion, and those exertions have, I am happy to learn, hitherto been most successful. As on the occasion of the last Great Exhibition in London, pictures, as well as other works of art, will form part of the attractions ; the materials of the kind which have been brought together have been carefully selected, and they will, I am confident, greatly contribute to the interest of the Exhibition. I take this opportunity of inviting the cordial co-operation of all present in the promotion of a great and useful undertaking, and in con nection with the toast—" Success to the Dublin Interna tional Exibition," I beg to propose "The Health of Lord Naas." (Cheers.) Lord NAAS—It is quite true that great difficulties were experienced in the first attempt to establish the Dublin Ex hibition, but I am happy to say that owing to generous sup port they received, not only from this country but from various parts of Europe, the success of the undertaking may become, indeed, almost certain, and it will not only be productive of great benefit to the country generally in which it stands, but redound to the credit of those whd have contributed to its success. If any of this distinguished company will honour us with their presence, we shall give them a most hearty welcome. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT—WO are on this occasion honoured and gratified with the presence of a celebrated traveller, Dr. Livingstone, whose enterprises in Africa in the cause of civilisation and humanity have often engaged the public attention, and have always excited the deepest interest. I am happy to have an opportunity of proposing his health, and of wishing him all success at a time when, as I hear, he is about to proceed on his third African expedition. (Cheers.) Dr. LIVINGSTONE briefly acknowledged the toast. Tho PnEsiDENT—The toad .71) ieh I have now tho honour to propose is, "Prosperity to the City of London, and the Health of the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor." (Cheers.) A connection is always assumed to exist between success in commerce, with its consequent wealth, and the progress of the fine arts. If we look for indications of the latter in the City of London we shall doubtless find abundant evidence of a disposition to encourage all the arts ; but the progress referred to will perhaps be chiefly recognised in architecture, which is, in every sense, the best foundation for such appli cations of wealth. Whatever may be the success of the pro posed improvements of the metropolis it should always be remembered that the city of London, properly so called, was at an early period zealously active in the same sense,and it must be admitted with very satisfactory results. (Cheers.) The LORD MAYOR—I thank you, Sir Charles Eastlake, j l for the compliment you have paid to the city of London by inviting me as its chief magistrate to be present at thismag nificent banquet, and the honour you have conferred onme by drinking my health. Having from early life been occu pied in commercial pursuits, I have had but little opportu nity to devote the time I should have wished to the more re fined and elevating studies of literature and the arts. But I should be insensible indeed to all the pleasures of taste and the manifestations of genius if I could look around these walls without feeling the highest gratification in seeing such noble works of art. The citizens of London are to a great extent immersed in mercantile engagements, yet some there are who happily find time to cultivate and means to encou rage the arts and sciences. I may be allowed to say that I have not myself been altogether unsuccessfully occupied in the promotion of education, and my name may be remem bered by my fellow citizens and those that come after me. (Cheers.) Reference has been made to the city in connexion with architecture. The public cannot but be pleased to witness the erection of buildings for commercial purposes that may vie with palaces. I heartily wish that art and science may continue to flourish together ; and I sit down, again thanking you for the honour you have done me by drinking my health. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT—I have now to give " The Interests of Science and the Health of the distinguished President of the Royal Society, General Sabine." Notwithstanding the apparent diversity between the truths of science and the arts that are addressed to the imagination, the experienced artist well knows that his representations, if conveying the impression at which he aims, always suppose a thorough acquaintance with the characteristics of form. He well knows that in imitation generally the stamp of truth, which science can so well assist, enables him more powerfully to address the general spectator and more effectually to attain the higher objects of art. Fully impressed with the value of this aid he desires on all fitting occasions to repeat his obligations to scientific professors, and to renew his alle giance to science itself. (Cheers.) satisfaction which his superintendence had afforded. (Cheers.) Mr. TirE, M.P.—I feel called on to acknowledge this toast from my long connexion with the Institute, and having had the honour of being President for two years before the election of my excellent friend Professor Donaldson. The Professor's absence is caused by incidents which have some bearing on the position of architecture in England. I allude to the examination of some proposed improvements in ono of the great cities of Southern Italy. Whether the Italians think it desirable to consult English architects or not, it is clear they are much enamoured of English capital. (A laugh.) In the very moderate space allotted this year to architecture in these rooms there appeared a beautiful de sign by Banks and Barry, now erecting in Turin by the International Financial Society (Limited)—(a laugh)—but this speculation seems extensive enough to constitute a new town. At Milan, also, great improvements are being carried out by English money, and if not under the direc tion, certainly under the advice of English architects. I think my right hon. friend the Lord Mayor will join me in the wish that some of the spare capital of these companies should be applied to long required improvemnnts in Lon don itself. With reference to the position of architecture in England, I consider it far from satisfactory. The In stitute has done much for architectural learning and teaching, but architecture is, unfortunately, more exposed to the caprices of fashion than any other art, and the fashion seems recently to have set in in favour of the pret tinesses of mediaeval architecture, rather than the more dignified teachings of the great models of antiquity, and the sublime conceptions of Greece, Rome, and Italy. In my own somewhat long experience in the profession I have now quitted 1 have seen three distinct changes in the public taste in architecture ; but in the drawings exhibited this year I think I see some evidence of a further change. Whether that be so or not, I cannot but consider some of the works exhibited as showing a revival of excellent Italian architecture, and none more so than in the "Piazzo St,atuto" at Turin.—(Cheers.) The company then separated. General SABINE briefly acknowledged the compliment. The PRESIDENT—I have now to give " The Society of Antiquaries, the National Portrait Gallery, and the Health of Earl Stanhope, the distinguished chairman of both those institutions."( Cheers.) The professors of the arts of design owe much to archaeology and the researohes of the Society of Antiquaries; they also gratefully recognise the advan tage of ready access to the portraits of celebrated indivi duals not unfrequently introduced in painting and sculp ture; and their best acknowledgments are due to his lordship for his enlightened attention to the objects of those institutions and for rendering the studies they pro mote subservient to historical accuracy in works of art. (Cheers.) Earl STANHOPE returned thanks. He believed that, as Sir Charles Eastlake had said, the pursuits of the Society of Antiquaries might on some occasions do good service to the interests of art. Whenever, indeed, it was required to portray a scene of former days, there could be no approach to fidelity of representation without some study of the attire, the buildings, and the customs of the period. On one occa sion he remembered that one of the most gifted artists whom this country had ever produced—his friend the late Sir David Wilkie—had shown him and some other persons the first sketch of a picture which he was designing—namely, the passage of Mont St. Bernard by the first Napoleon. But in this sketch, excellent as it was in all other respects, Wilkie had represented the First Consul, as he stood with some monks before the hospice fire, with the star of the Legion of Honour, while, in fact, that order of merit was not founded till more than three years from that time. No blame could attach to Wilkie for that little oversight, since, instead of studying dates or poring over chronologies, he had been better employed in achieving works of immortal genius (cheers), but still it was as well that the oversight had been observed and pointed out to him in sufficient time, and not left to cast, as it were, a shade on his finished performance. (Cheers.) In the case of more remote periods and more shadowy heroes, the aid which the artist might derive from the antiquary would be of course much greater. Be they great or small, such services would be always most cheerfully rendered, and the gratification of gazing on such works of art as those now around them would beno mean return. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT, in proposing the toast, " The Royal In stitute of British Architects, and the Health of its zealous President, Professor Donaldson," remarked that the Presi dent of the Architects' Institute was generally elected for one year only. Professor Donaldson had now entered on his second year of office, a distinct proof of the great SPIRIT OP THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. THE " SATURDAY REVIEW" ON PRESIDENT LIN COLN.—The atrocious crimes which have been com mitted at Washington supersede for the moment in interest the military collapse of the Confederacy. No assassinations recorded in history have been per petrated with more melodramatic success. The bigots who murdered Henry 111. and Henry IV. of France were instantly arrested, and in recent times Bellingham, after killing Mr. Percivel, had not a single chance of escape. The criminal who mur dered Mr. Lincoln was allowed to pass out of a crowded theatre, and he had even the opportunity of addressing a prepared epigram to the audience. The assassin of Mr. Seward encountered with im punity even more extraordinary risks, for he ven tured alone into a house where at least four able bodied men attempted in vain to protect the princi pal victim, or to prevent the escape of the assassin. It is to be hoped that both ruffians will be brought to justice without delay, and it especially concerns the honour of the South that they find no asylum in in any region which still owns the authority of the Confederate Government. The standard of civi lised morality would be lowered if any nation or political body were capable of tolerating or protect ing the perpetrators of a shameful series of murders. From the time of the legendary punishment inflicted by Camillus on the traitor of Veii to the warning addressed by Mr. Fox to Napoleon, it has always been the duty of an honourable enemy to denounce and punish the private treachery and violence of volunteer allies. Some reckless partisans of the Federal cause in England, echoing the unjustifiable insinuation of Mr. Stanton, are already eager to propagate the opinion that Booth and his accomplice were the instruments of a Southern conspiracy—an imputation which Mr. Mason has taken the earliest opportunity to deny with indignation, not unsup ported by probable argument. In this instance, as in many others, philanthropic prepossessions remove all obstacles of conscience which might impede the full indulgence of passionate malignity. Sudden and violent death, although it shocks the survivors, is happily not in itself an evil. Mr. Lincoln may almost be deemed fortunate in the brilliant hopeful ness of the moments which proved to be his last. The greatest general of the Confederacy had sur rendered a few-days before with the remnant of one of the bravest armies which have ever resisted supe rior force. There was every reason to believe that the reconquest of Virginia was but a step to the complete re-establishment of the Union. Mr. Lin coln in his latest speech proposed a plan for re storing civil government which was apparently both impracticable and unjust, but he had good reason to believe that the overthrow of the Southern armies was a death-blow to Secession. Although he had at the same time issued a proclamation which gave just cause of offence to neutral Governments, there is no reason to suppose that he meditated aggression on any foreign country. According to Mr. Stan ton's statement, Mr. Lincoln had been unusually cheerful at a meeting of the Cabinet on the morn ing of the murder, and it may readily be believed that he expressed kindly feelings to General Lee, and to some other Southern leaders. General Grant, who is said to have been included in the plans of the assassin, had fortunately left Washing ton the same day, after sharing in the deliberations of the Cabinet. The President well be satisfied with the conduct and fortune of the Commander in -Chief, and he probably approved of the courteous firmness which had been displayed in the recent military negotiations. It was after consultation with General Grant that the Government had determined to suspend recruiting, and to effect vast and rapid reductions in the naval and military establishments. It is certain that, in the opinion of those who are best qualified to judge, the war was nearly over ; nor is it likely that if ordinary pru dence is exercised, the death of Mr. Lincoln will seriously interfere with the restoration of peace. The worst consequence which could fol low from an isolated crime would be the possible embitterment of Northern feeling, and the conse 'quent infliction of outrage and indignity on a popu lation which may perhaps be wavering between pride and submission. It is for the interest of all. parties that the assassins should be regarded as individual malefactors, and the theatrical ejacu lation of the murderer of Mr. Lincoln suggests a suspicion that the act was in some degree suggested by morbid vanity. In America, as well as in England, reckless agitators will endeavour to im pute the crime to the hated slaveholders, and per haps to Mr. Jefferson Davis himself. To some minds it is agreeable to heap contumely on the head of a defeated adversary, and to render quarrels irre concileable when they seem likely to die out prema turely. If, however, the Federal Government acts with prudence and firmness, the catastrophe which has occurred will neither suspend the movement of the armies nor materially affect public policy. Mr. Andrew Johnson, who has unexpectedly succeeded to the Presidency, will now have an opportunity of effacing some doubtful associations of his previous career. There can be no doubt that he possesses extraordinary vigour of character, and some of his defects are those of a self-educated and self-made man. Without the possession of remarkable quali ties he could not have raised himself from the lowest condition to the rank of Democratic Senator for the Slave State of Tennessee. One of his claims to the confidence of his fellow-citizens consisted in his violent partisanship, and in his consistent support of all plans for extending slavery. He advocated the spoliation of Texas, the unprovoked war against Mexico, and the audacious project of annexing Cuba as a security against the possible abolition of slavery by the Spanish . Government. On one vital point, however, he differed from his political asso ciates, as he steadily preferred the maintenance of the Union even to the interests of slavery. At the commencement of secession he declared his un compromising hostilty to the project of separation, and he not unfairly earned the office of Military Go vernor of that portion of the State which was from time to time controlled by the Federal arms. Mr. Johnson is believed to have displayed considerable ability in providing supplies for the army, and as Governor he was remarkable for unhesitating and unscrupulous devotion to the interests of the Union. Even Americans, who habitually tolerate lawlessness as long as it promotes the will of the majority, were scandalized by Mr. Johnson's daring attempt to carry the vote of T ennessee f or Mr . Lincoln and himself by imposing an elaborate test of his own construction on those who sought to take part in the election. As the suffrage of the state was not required to secure the necessary majority, Congress thought it better to omit Tennessee in counting up the Presidential votes. In the meantime, Mr. John son had been rewarded for his preference of the Union to his party and his State by the high sine cure office of Vice-President, involving a contingent succession to the head of the Republic. The belief that primary allegiance was due to the State, rather than to the Federation, had been almost universal in the South. Many of the most eminent leaders of the Confederacy openly disapproved of secession, and it is known that General Lee himself considered the measure unnecessary; but private opinions were overruled by the State loyalty which was deemed by the great majority of Americans a primary duty. Native and foreign theorists have of late affected to regard a State as only an exaggerated county, but their glib:generalisations have been confuted by the self -sacrificing unanimity of:senators, representatives, governors, and officers in the army and navy, in following the fortunes of their Sovereign States in defiance of the rival sovereignty of Washington. Mr. Johnson's opposite course may probably have been conscientious, and it was suffi ciently exceptional to deserve official and popular recognition. The more objectionable passages of his career will be readily condoned if he learns in his great office to respect the rights of his own country men and of foreign Governments. Americans have a characteristic facility in adapting themselves to new situations, and Mr. Johnson's interests are so absolutely coincident with his duty that he may perhaps still earn for himself an honourable place .in history. His immediate course is sufficiently marked out by circumstances, and he is surrounded by able commanders who may be trusted with the remaining conduct of the war. Although the out rage inflicted on Mr. Seward provokes universal indignation and regret, it will not be difficult to find a more judicious Secretary of the State Department. If the rumour that Mr. Adams has been selected for the place is confirmed, one pledge will have been given for the adoption of a prudent and dignified policy. Mr. Lincoln, though he committed many mistakes, so far exceeded the anticipation of friends and enemies that his character may perhaps here after serve as an argument in favour of the American practice of selecting high functionaries at random. He was made President because he had attained local notoriety by the exercise of moderate ability, and his honesty was taken for granted. During the arduous experience of four years he rose in general estima tion by calmness of temper, by an intuitively logical appreciation of the character of the conflict, and by undisputed sincerity. Above all, he showed that he was capable of learning from his own errors and from the course of events. Having contributed largely to the failure of the campaign of 1862 by his distrust of M'Clellan; he had the wisdom, during the final advance upon Richmond, to repose un limited confidence in Grant. Of the bearing of slavery on the war he had from the first formed the opinion which became a constitutional ruler. As he said at an early period of the contest, he would have preserved slavery, or destroyed it, or let it alone; if by any of these methods he could have restored the Union. At the beginning of 1863 he issued the Emancipation decree which looked like a crime, and proved to be only a manifesto. If it had become operative in those unconquered portions of the South to which it was exclusively applicable, Mr. Lincoln would have been justly condemned as the author of an intolerable servile revolution. As the slaves remained tranquil, the proclamation served the useful and harmless purpose of advertising an inevitable change in the policy and object of the war. The enlistment of negroes was a more prac tical step in the same direction, and ultimately the President found himself strong enough to make emancipation an indispensable condition of peace. Among Mr. Lincoln's merits may be reckoned his want of the national fluency in speech and writing. He was seldom tempted to commit himself to the vapouring professions of his Ministers and political supporters. He allowed Mr. Seward to bluster to foreign Governments, but he never blustered himself. Friendly observers assert, perhaps correctly, that, as Mr. Lincoln was the only apparently honest man. in Washington, he was also exceptionally deter mined to preserve peace, notwithstanding the menaces of his subordinates. On the whole, he satisfied the requirements of a difficult position better than any rival who could be suggested. When he was re-elected by a large majority, the choice of the Republican party was generally ap proved at home and abroad; and if the people of England had shared in the election, the result would probably have been the same. Mr. Lincoln's good qualities cannot add to the horror which is felt at the murder, but they justify the general regret. THE " EXAMINER" ON THE SALMON FISHERIES.-- A bill has been read for the first time this week, and is likely to pass with little or no opposition, which mends the holes in the net of the Salmon Fisheries Act of 1861. • That act did not secure fulfilment of all its good intentions, which have been, therefore, but imperfectly carried out ; yet already, though there has been little more than time for one genera tion of fry to become adult salmon of weight and reputation, the fish in some of our salmon rivers has increased fourfold, streams from which the salmon had been barred out have, by the use of fish ladders and other acts of care, been partially restocked, and our supply of salmon h as b een i ncreas i ng instead of dying out. The increased supply of fish has caused a proportionate increase in the number of fishers. The improvement is due to the provisions made according to the act almost invariably at the ex pense of gentlemen upon the upper streams, who have subscribed to voluntary associations for care of rivers in which they have no trade interest, and fish only as anglers with the rod and line. But when they see the waters below them dragged remorse lessly by men who contribute nothing towards the right maintenance of the fishing grounds they use or plunder, these voluntary associations flag in zeal. The Salmon Fisheries Act of 1861 encouraged their formation, but the practical shortcomings of the act have since given occasion to so many discourage ments that some of the voluntary associations are already extinguished, and others are declining rapidly towards extinction. So bold is the advantage taken of flat,-r5 in the law, that some illegal exporters to France of unseasonable salmon during the appointed close time have brought an action for damages against the Folkestone Custom-house authorities for seizure of the fish. Under the act as amended the care of the salmon streams will not be left to voluntary effort. A carefully proportioned payment to- ' wards river conservancy will be taken in the form of license duty from all fishermen who use the stream. The angler, for his part, will not grudge license duty of a pound a year upon his salmbia rod, small as his catch may be in comparison with Ilia, t of the lightly-taxed men of putts and putchers i n the estuary, who live by their labour. As one of the fishery inspectors justly says, already England owes in no slight degree to the anglers the salvation of a fishery that is capable of being raised into anim portant means of livelihood for thousands. Where the fishery has been almost or entirely destroyed, there being, of course, few fishermen, little money is to be got by fishing license, and more than usual may be needed for recovering the value of the waters. In that case the act, we believe; provides —or if not, it should provide—a power to three fourths of their own number to levy on owners of property upon the river banks a rate in aid, calcu lated to a fair general estimate of situation and frontage. Many new claims of fishing rights were set up when the act of 1861 exempted from interfer ence all existing rights founded on charter, grant, or immemorial usage. There waik nobody to contest in the law courts these false claims. But under the amended act a commission of inquiry will proceed as in IrelMld, to investigate all claims, with power to allow or disallow them. Fair fishing rights will then be established and respected, and our salmon fishery, rising every year in value, will become more important than it was even in the days when mon asteries were victualled for the winter and troops were provisioned with salmon taken from the Eng lish rivers to be dried and stored. On some rivers it will be necessary for great towns to learn that there is a better use for sewage than the poisoning of fish. As for the factories, generally in a well organised factory there should be no waste, every product being turned to some commercial use. But where some waste is inevitable, it is usually suffi cient that the water containing it should be made to pass slowly through a greater or less number of catch-pools, in which the noxious ingredient may be deposited. From these it can periodically be cleared away, either as waste or as material which, although in its diluted form not worth working into a saleable product, can, when gathered into a mass, be made to yield a profit to its owner. THE "SPECTATOR " ON THE LATEST PHASE IN GERMANY.—One of two things is occurring in Ger many. Either there is a secret league between Prussia and Austria, and the two Powers are ad vancing with extraordinary tortuousness towards some object not yet revealed, or Austria has ceased to be for the moment an effective German Power. Each theory has many defenders, and in each there are difficulties which seem at first sight to make be lief unreasonable. Continental politicians, trained in a school which considered dynastic aggrandize ment as the end of politics, are very fond of intrigue, but it seems incredible that two Courts, if really united, should play so elaborate a comedy of an tagonism. If Prussia and Austria are really united each Court is writing despatches, and making sug gestions, and inventing compromises, none of which are officially published, and all of which are intended to deceive Ministers who all the while know, and know that their interlocutors know that they know, that the whole business is a farce. The Austrian fleet is ordered to Kiel as a mere incident in a comedy, and Herr von Bi smar k as k s th e suppor t o f Parliament in order that he may play his previously s ttled part with an assured claque. his too absurd, a d yet the difficulties in the way of the second ex planation are scarcely less insuperable. If Prussia and Austria are really fighting, if the Kaiser at heart resents his rival's proceedings, the House of Hapsburg is submitting to insults almost without a precedent. The two Governments are, it will be remembered, equal partners in the ownership of Schleswig, and joint partners with a third power, the Diet, in that of Holstein and Lauenburg. Never theless, one of them, and that one supposed for ages to be the junior, not only informs the in habitants of Lauenburg that they will shortly be subject to him alone, which being a prophecy is rather a discourtesy than an injury, but actually seizes the best bit of Holstein as hi s personal share. Kiel is half Austrian by deeds not yet two years old, yet Herr von Bismark not on l y says he will not give it up—which is all right, as he may intend to pay for it—but actually in the face of urgent remonstrances from his co-partner pro poses to his household to settle there, and erect buildings to which ownership is essential. On this very Thursday he told the House that Government intended to transfer the Prussian fleet from Dantzic to Kiel, and declined to inform it whether if Aus tria resisted he should effect his purpose by force. We say nothing of the fact that Holstein belongs in the first place to the Federation, for the Kaiser may at heart approve a savage snub to the Diet, and nothing of the injury done to the Duchy, for Francis Joseph cares very little about duchies, but we con fine ourselves to th e s l ap on th e cheek thus dealt out to him. Is it possible that the Austrian House allows property to which it has legal right to be dealt with by the Parliament of its hereditary rival as matter of purely domestic concern ? And yet if it does not, then we are driven back upon that secret alliance which involves such extraordinary trickery for no conceivable end. Austria and Prussia in settling the destination of the Duchies violate no interna tional law, break no promises which will hurt the consciences of Hohenzollerns or Hapsburgs, neglect no principle the force of which they have ever ac knowledged. As to external interference, they have only to announce their union to make such inter ference hopeless, or at least to place themselves in a position in which defence would not involve more risk than the prize is worth. Why, then, should they be at the pains to act out an intrigue which cannot deceive themselves and will deceive nobody else ? We believe that the second solution is, despite all apparent difficulties, the true one, and that Aus tria is really unable for the moment to run the risk of any act, or even any remonstrance, which might provoke the Prussian Court to an appeal to force. So numerous and inveterate are her ene mies, so wretched is the condition of her finances, and so dispirited is her Cou r t, th a t even w ith the support of the minor States she feels unequal to a great war. The prosperity of the people and the popularity of the reigning house, possible sway in North Italy and certain power in Germany, have all alike been sacrificed to the crea tion of a magnificent army, and now, when her rival makes a clutch at the one object of ambition left on earth to a Hapsburg, the old Imperial Crown, that army is found useless because incapable of movement without a crash which would bring the old fabric down. Never was there such a satire on military monarchy. The population of Austria is forty millions and that of Prussia barely nineteen, her revenue is more than double, her army nearly threefold in number, her German alliances at least eight times as powerful, and yet Prussia takes away a port which half belongs to her without going through the formality of first asking permission. It is a strange position for the House of Hapsburg, and it involves this very important result. Herr von Bismark has only to come to some agreement with the French to swallow the Duchies whole, and see North Germany at his feet. All other possible rivals have been beaten. Russia needs support in Berlin to keep the chronic revolt in Poland within bounds, is at this moment sending out acrid circulars about the danger to which the revolutionary party. of Europe—i.e., the Bonapartes—continue to ex pose her. Austria, as we have seen, is powerless to interfere. Great Britain would be, on the whole, rather pleased to see Prussia become a considerable maritime power, and does not forget that when all is said Berlin does not love the Pope. Italy welcomes anything which gratifies her well-founded dislike of Vienna, and the Diet—well, the Diet, knowing it cannot avoid being cooked, is chiefly anxious about the sauce. There remains France alone, and if Herr von Bismark can off er F rance compensation, France is not to be f eare d. W e u tt er l y reject all the stories which exiles are always repeating of bargains be tween Napoleon and the ci-devant Ambassador to his Court, of concerted cessions and planned little campaigns for plundering territory from Bavaria, and accept only the one visible fact. Two men, both daring, both ambitious, both unscrupulous, and both desirous for solid reasons of territorial ag grandisement, can, if they will but agree, gratify their passion. One does not perceive under those circumstances what the " balance of power" can be considered worth. COUNTRY MARKETS __~ M_. NORWICH-SATURDAY. The supply of wheat was only limited at this market to day, and ruled firm at an advance of about is per qr. for all good qualities. The barley trade is now quite a nominal one, at late terms. White wheat (weighing 631 b to 641 b), 44s to 46s ; red ditto (weighing 631 b to 641 b), 36s to 38s ; best malting barley (weighing 551 b to 561 b), 30s to 33s ; runs ditto (weighing 541 b to 551 b), 28s to 30s ; distilling ditto (weigh ing 521 b to 531 b), 24s to 26s ; oats, 24s to 26s ; beans, 37s to 39s ; peas (maple), 36s to 38s per qr ; flour, 25s to 25s 6d per sack. averages :—Wheat, 2,163 qrs, 38s 9d ; barley, 1,149 qrs., 23s 6d ; oats, qrs, —s Od. YORK--SATURDAY. Business was steady and prices were is per qr. higher. Barley supported the rates of last week, but there was not much showing. For oats there was a healthy inquiry, and the full rates of last week were made. New white wheat, 40s to 45s ; new red, 37s to 39s per 36 stone. Barley, for malting, 28s to 30s per qr ; grinding, 26s to 27s Der 30 stone. Oats, new, 20s to 22s per 24 stone. Beans, 38s to 40s per 38 stone. Malt, st3s rye, 28s per qr. Flour, 28s per sack of 2801 b. NOTTINGHAM-SATURDAY. We had a moderate show of wheat to-day. The demand was firm, at fully is per qr. advance. There was a limited supply of barley, and the demand was 'steady at about the rates of last week. Of oats the show was small, and the demand proved fair, at the extreme rates of last week. Old white wheat, 42s to 47s ; old red, 40s to 44s ; new white, 42s to 47s ; new red, 40s to 44s per 36 stone. Bar ley, new malting, 27s to 35s per qr ; old grinding, 26s to 28s ; new, 25s to 27s per 30 stone. Oats, old, 25s to 30s ; new ' 22s to 25s ; old foreign, 24s to 26 s p er Eddie. _Beans, old, 40s to 43s ; new, 37s to'4os per 38 stone. LEICES TER—SerunDAY. There was again a somewhat limited supply of wheat to day, and sales were made at about 1s per qr. more money. Of barley there was not much showing, and the inquiry was fair at previous rates. The show of oats was scanty, and the demand ruled firm at full prices. Old white wheat, 42s to 45s ; old red, 37s to 41s ; new white, 41s to 458 ; new red, 37s to 41s per 36 stone. Bar ley, malting, 32s to 35s per qr. ; grinding, 27s to 29s per 30 stone. Oats, old,, 24s to 278 ; new, 22s to 24s per 24 stone. Beans, old, 39s to 41s ; new, 36s to 88s per 38 stone. DIIBLIN.-FRIDAY. There was a fair attendance and a steady demand for all grain at fully previous currencies. Foreign wheat and oats the turn dearer. Indian corn, 325. Flour met more busi ness at full rates. Oatmeal quiet. Currencies :—White wheat, 22s 6d to 24s 6d ; red do., 20s 6d to 22s Od; grinding barley, 12s Od to 13s Od; malt ing do., 13s to 14s 6d ; white oats, ll s t o 12 s ; bl ac k d o . 10s Od 11s Od. CORK-FRIDAY. The following were the quotations this morning :—Red wheat, 7s Gd to Os Od ; white, 8s 8d to Os Od ; barley, 6s 9d to Os Od; oats, 8s Od to 8s 2d; black oats, 7sfid to 6s Gd; here, Os Od. Foreign Mail Packet List. Australia and New Zealand, via Southampton May 19. Ditto, via Marseilles May 18. Brazil and Cape Verde. by British packet May 4. Ditto, by French packet Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena May 25. China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton May 2. Ditto, via Marseilles May 13. Falkland Islands Gibraltar, via Southampton India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via Southampton.... May 2 Ditto, via itaraeillea May 13 Endia (Bombay), via Southampton. May 12 . _ _ Ditto, via tiarseilles May .6. Mauritius, via Southampton Ditto, via Marseil:e 3. May 6. Newfoundland May 10. Portugal •••• 4. Ditto, by private ship to Lisbon... United States and British North America, by Bri tish packet Ditto, by United States packet, via Southamp ton Ditto, via Cork Ditto, by Canadian packet, via Londonderry. • May 5 West Coast of Africa, Madeira, and Teneriffe May 13. West Indies and Pacific (exceptl3ahamas, Cuba, and Mexico.. May 15. Bahamas, via New York May 4. Bermuda, ditto , May 10. Cuba and Mexico . May 29. Births. CASTLE.—On the 27th ult., at Clifton, the wife of Michael Castle, Esq., of a son. INGLIS.—On the 23d inst., at Scarborough, the wife of Major Inglis, late of the sth Dragoon Guards, of a son. LBwis.—On the 28th ult., at 42, Euston-square, the wife of Alfred D. Lewis, Esq., of a daughter. Marriages, FIELDING—MIIRRAY.—On the 27th inst., at Saint Peter's Chapel, in Westminster Abbey, Lady Adelaide Emily Fielding, daughter of the Earl of Denbigh, to Charles Archibald Murray, Esq., son of the late Hon. Mr. Murray, and nephew to the Earl of Mansfield. WALFORD—CURTOYEL—On the 29th ult., at Old Charlton, Kent, William Watford, Esq., of Bocking, Essex, to Emily Frances, daughter of the late Charles Lockyer Curtoys, Esq. Deaths. BRODRICK.—On the 24th inst., at his residence, Upton Bank, Macclesfield, Thomas Brodrick, Esq., J.P., chair man of the North Staffordshire Railway Co., aged 72. CUNARD.—On the 28th ult., at 26, Prince's-gardens, Sir Samuel Cunard, Bart., aged 78. PALIN.—On the 27th ult., at Greenwich, John Roe Palin, Esq., aged 68. SARGEAUNT.- -OR the 28th ult., at 1, Porchester-squaro, Charles Sargeaunt, Esq., late of Rushden, Northampton shire, aged 58. SIEVIER.—On the 28th ult., suddenly, at 35, Rochester . road, N.W., Robert William Sievier, Esq., F.R.S., aged 71. WILLIAms.—On the 28th ult., at his residence, 12, Park square west, Regent's-park, Wm. Williams, Esq., M.P. for Lambeth, aged 77. London : Printed and Published by WIL LIAM ANDit '%W B of No. 112, Strand, Punter , at THE SUN Office, No 11 2, Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy, in the County of Middlesex.—Monday, May 1, 1865. •1 4 • 1 a t 1 1 ti 1] •