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

Banquet at t the Royal Academy. On Saturday the a] aniversary dinner of the Royal Academy took place at the Rooms in Trafalgar square, when a dist=inguished company assembled, on the invitation of the President and Council, at once to share theiz sumptuous hospitality and to enjoy the opportunity of inspecting -the beautiful works of art which constitute the Rxhib ition 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, theDuke 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 Chehnsford, 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. Pakington, the Master of the Horse, Mr. Grote, the Attorney-General, Sir H. Cairns, the Solicitor-General, Lord Naas, Lord Robert Cecil, Lord John Manners, SirE. 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 these walls. (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 aroun d _ _ _ 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 w h o arc t eac h ers o f re- ligion and morality, being interested in another form of teaching, such as you who are artists ex hibit here to-night ? (Cheers.) Bow 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 arc the subject of the present toast. Even those devoted to peaceful studies, who, as zealous Volun 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 corn- mercial and even the pleasure-seeking habits of our c ountrymen, by rendering them familiar with the excitements and the perils of the sea, have tended to keep alive and quicken their sympathies for the ct '",, • arnlers of England." On land the Volunteer may be said to constitute a similar or rather a closer element of u n i on . for, from the practi ca l k now l e d ge which he a ecin i ' of many military duties and re sponsibilities, he takes career of th e a deeper interest i n th e professional soldier, a pp rec i a t es hi s exertions, can comprehend his privations, and re joices with a m ore • intelligent participation in his success. (Cheers.) i n pro po y si l ng the toast "The Army and Navy and the Volunteers," I beg to connect with the army the of his Royal Highness the Commander-in-chilnefe with the navy that of the First Lord of the Ad • miralty and with the Volunteers that of Viscount Bury, (Cheers.) orY• His; Royal Highness the Duke of C ANIBPIDCE— Sir Charles Eastlake, my Lords, and Gentl emen 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 say that we are at all 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 tiun is a proof that the public feeling is absorbed by more peaceful, and in many respects more agreeable, topics than military exploits. I cannot say that I regret this, for of course whatever conduces to the happiness and prosperity of this country must always be most acceptable to the service to which I belong. It is not our wish to see wars engaged in ; on the contrary, it is our business to try and avert the calamities of war, and if we can succeed in that respect I flatter myself we perform our duty as successfully, and are as much entitled to the good opinion of our countrymen as if we performed our duty gallantly on the field of battle. (Cheers.) But besides this, I trust I am not mistaken in sup posing that the artists of this country have a real affection for the service with which I am associated, forming, as they do, one of those Volunteer corps which have just been mentioned from the chair. (Cheers.) I am happy to find that the Artists Corps have been in no respect reduced either in number or efficiency—(cheers)—and I feel persuaded that while they have on this and many other other occasions with their peaceful arms deli neated so agreeably the representations of various kinds which we see around us on these walls, they would with their warlike arms be prepared to grasp the rifle and the bayonet, and do good service to their country, should the hour of need arrive. (Cheers.) I trust, however, that hour of need will not arrive; and that it will be the good fortune of the army and navy to do the fighting part without the assistance of the Volunteers. I sincerely hope we may often have the pleasure of seeing them in their military capacity, but that their duties may be confined to the peaceful position of Brighton or the extended battlefield of Wimbledon-common. (Cheers and a laugh.) The Duke of SOMERSET—It is my duty and plea sure to reply on this occasion for the honour you have done to her Majesty's navy. It is true, as his royal highness has already said, that in these days neither the army nor the navy are called upon for those great exertions which in former times they have performed, and which again they will perform when duty calls upon them to do so. But whenever the opportunity has been afforded—whenever the navy has had occasion to be employed, as lately in New Zealand, in Japan, and I might add in the River Plate, where one of our finest vessels was suddenly enveloped in conflagration—the officers and men have shown that they retain that high character of courage, attention to discipline, and ready obedience which have enabled them in former times, and in more serious conflicts to uphold the honour of the British name and win for themselves the enthusiastic admiration of their countrymen. (Cheers.) I will not trespass on your time by dwelling on the merits of the navy. It may be true, I think it is, that the navy has not of late done much for the arts, and I am afraid that the vessels we now build will not be very decorative on your walls. (A laugh.) But they tell me it all depends on the proper education of the eye—(a laugh)—and if you will but educate your eye I am in hopes that even these square-looking dark things without any masts may still be the objects of your admiration. But it will, I fear, require a great deal of education. (A laugh.) In the mean while, without further trespassing on your time, allow me to thank you for the honour you have done me in connecting my name with the Navy. (Cheers.) Viscount Bunt—It has become' the habit of late years to associate the toast of the Volunteers with the Army and Navy. It may be that in times to come, if the Volunteers, as I sincerely hope they will, continue to form part of the defences of Eng land, they will, as a matter of course, be associated with the two services ; but now, almost in the infancy of that force, no Volunteer worthy of the name can hear the toast proposed without being reminded that it is only by the kindness of the company that they are so associated. I should, perhaps, speak with rather more humility on the present occasion as a Volunteer if it were not that his Royal High ness the Commander-in-Chief has already reminded you that the Artists' Corps forms part, not the least distinguished, of the Volunteer force of the metropolis. (Cheers.) I have myself had that dis tinguished corps under my command, and I cannot tell you how exceedingly proud a "vain man dressed in a little brief authority " must feel in being able to order the members of such a corps, animated with the love of nature, or with a pretty girl on the line of march to look straight forward. (A laugh.: I cannot but remember, with that melancholy satin faction with which we look back on the merest trifles connected with those who are gone, that that distinguished artist whose name has become his torical—I mean John Leech—was a volunteer— (cheex s)--and that I had the honour to teach him the goose step. (A laugh.) His Royal Highness has said that he hopes our Volunteer force will always confine its efforts to the bloodless fields of Brighton and Wimbledon. I, too, trust that will be the case, but we must remember that the Volunteers are Englishmen, and in whatever capacity they are called on to do their duty they will do it. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT—Gentlemen of the Royal Aca demy, the toast which I have now the honour to propose, and which I give in the form prescribed of old, is "The health of the noblemen and gentlemen who this day honour the Academy with their pre sence." (Cheers.) Whatever may be the station or the profession of those to whom we now desire to offer the expression of our respect, we are entitled to regard them all as well-wishers to the fine arts—a taste for which is, happily, compatible with every position and with every occupation. As represen tatives of the still increasing class of cultivated amateurs, we owe them renewed acknowledgments, for to their favour, whether evinced by the direct encouragement of the fine arts or by an enlightened interest in their progress and applications, the pre sent widely-spread feeling for art among all classes is greatly to be ascribed. (Cheers.) That favour may be said to have been manifested of late years in one sense more distinctly, producing correspond ing beneficial results. The time was when appre ciation of the fine arts, though displaying itself in many substantial forms, was rarely indicated by any open avowal. The very earnestness of a predilec tion is sometimes opposed to a public confession. The friends of art seem to have looked upon it much as Goldsmith regarded his love of poetry, which he describes as— . " 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 tho 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 have at 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—I 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 its devoted admirers will rejoice in expressing the de light they experience year by year in witnessing the fresh triumphs it achieves—(cheers)=how, by its creative power, it embodies in form and colour the facts of history and the fictions of poetry, adding a fresh charm by the magic touches of the pencil to the graphic narrative of the one, to the thoughts that breathe and words that burn of the other; how it commits to the canvas in faithful and glowing colours the stirring events of our own days (pointing to Mr. Frith's picture of the Royal Academy)—how it commemo rates with marvellous power and matchless grace the early efforts of kindred genius, efforts which were one day to be crowned by an undying celebrity (pointing to Mr. Phillips's picture of Murillo as a youth) ; how with its mute eloquence it can raise the soul to devout aspirations, as we gaze on the saints and seers of Sacred Writ, rapt in holy:meditation (re ferring to Leighton's " David") ; how its present efforts will in time to come recall, as it were, to life and action the great and good who are no more, exhibiting to future gene rations the mind and character revealed in the lineaments and expression of the countenance ; how it presents to the imagination many a moving incident of real or fictitious life, which kindles our sympathy with the joys and sorrows of our fellow-men. (Cheers.) These, sir, are some of the obligations for which we acknowledge ourselves debtors . to the members of the Royal Academy and their associates ; and I know not that we can find any more appropriate way of repaying that debt on the present occasion than by the offering of our fervent wishes for the continued and in creasing prosperity of the Royal Academy. (Cheers.) May its mission ever be, as it has been in times past, to touch and teach the heart while it charms the eye—to subserve the cause of morality and religion, by awakening through the creations of genius on the canvas such pure emotions and such elevating thoughts as may delight while they im prove the beholder. (Cheers.) I request you all to accept the toast of " Prosperity to the Royal Academy," and to drink to the health of Sir Charles Eastlake, who so ably vindicates the principles of his art, and so worthily pre sides over this institution. (Loud cheers.) The PRESIDENT, after duly ackowledging for himself and colleagues the honour conferred on the Academy, said,--It is most desirable that these recurring exhibitions should keep pace with and confirm the public feeling at present so strongly manifeked in favour of the fine arts, and the observations to which we have had the pleasure of listen ing justify the conclusion that such is the case. Those observations, the general estimate of the exhibition, the allusions to particular works, and the reflections suggested by them, must have been gratifying alike to the friends and the professors of art. Our regret from time to time is that we miss the productions of those who had long contributed to the attractions of the annual display. On the present occasion we miss the admirable portraits of Sir John Wat son Gordon, whose active and honoured life came to its close soon after our last meeting. More recently we have had to deplore the Loss of David Roberts. His pictures are so familiar that it is quite unnecessary for me to speak of their merits ; but whoever has had an opportunity of seeing the exhibition of his drawings which has recently taken place will probably have conceived a still higher idea of his powers. The very existence of a large proportion of that series was scarcely known to his intimate friends, so unostentatious was the artist's character, so genuine his love of art for its own sake. (Cheers.) Of living Academicians, it is not to be sup posed that all who are absent from these walls have not been zealously employed. Some, as is well known, are en gaged in the Palace of Westminster, and I take this oppor tunity of announcing that Mr. Maclise has just completed there another of those gigantic works which, I cannot re frain from saying, will contribute to immortalize his name. (Cheers.) With regard to the present exhibition, as the in creased employment of art necessarily increases the number of exhibitors, so it involves the painful impossibility of ac commodating in our present apartments all the meritorious candidates for space. It is unnecessary to dwell on this too familiar difficulty, a remedy for which will, we trust, in time be provided. I have to propose, as the next toast, the health of a nobleman and a statesman who, in the midst of political cares and duties, has over been duly sensible of the public advantages which the cultivation of the fine arts, as a branch of education, can confer. I have the honour to propose " The Health of Earl Russell." (Cheers.) Earl RussELL—I have to thank you, Sir Charles, for the honour you have done in proposing my health. Had my noble friend Lord Palmerston been here I have no doubt you would have drunk his health in connection with the toast you have just given, and I only regret that some slight indisposition prevents the gratification he must have expe rienced, as we have all experienced, on this occasion. With respect to myself I may say I have had the honour of an;in vitation for some 40 or 50 years to your meetings, and it has always given me the greatest pleasure in being able to attend this anniversary. I have every year derived great delight in witnessing your achievements ; but, at the same time, I must say that having had.long experience allowed me I have almost every year had the misfortune to miss some favourite artist, and thus to mix regret with the en joyment which I have received. You have mentioned one now no longer among us:whom I used to congratulate every year on the merits of his pictures. I refer to the late much respected David Roberts. (Cheers.) Sir Walter Scott, speaking of Edinburgh, called it his " own romantic town." Ills taste was first employed there, but from the colours in which he showed London I may say ho had given UR a right to apply that epithet to London. (Cheers.) Among the pictures I have seen to-day there is one that could not fail to strike me, particularly as you have drunk the health of the most rev. and right rev. prelates who are now present— I mean the picture described in the Catalogue as Queen Elizabeth's Toothache." (A laugh.) [ The scene is taken from the " Lives of the Queens of England," and represents the determination of the Queen to resist the extraction of a tooth, till Aylmer, Bishop of London, stood forth, and told her that although an old man and not having many teeth to spare, she should see a practical experiment of it on himself, if she would thereby be encouraged. Whereupon the surgeon extracted one of his teeth, and the Queen's unwillingness was ultimately overcome.] I compared that with another picture I see before me, named in the Catalogue as " The Connoisseurs." One would have expected to see under such a title two or three very shrewd-looking gentlemen disposed to tell the artist, according to Goldsmith's well known story, that the picture might have been much better if he had taken more pains, or making some remarks of that kind. But instead of that I was much surprised to see two dogs looking over Sir Edwin Landseer's shoulders, as if criticis ing the picture he is drawing. (A laugh.) From the obser vation of these two pictures a gentleman was led to remark that it was much better to bo ono of Sir Edwin Lanseer's dogs than one of Queen Elizabeth's bishops. (Laughter.) Sir Edwin evidently has the greatest regard to the comfort and happiness of his dogs. (Cheers and laughter.) But I will not trespass on your time by further remarks. I beg again to express my admiration of this institution, and my thanks for the honour you have done me. (Cheers.) The PnEsmExT—Without adhering to the strict order of the toasts in.the list before me, I will now beg to propose " The Interests of Literature." This toast, accompanied by our emphatic acknowledgment of the debt which art has ever owed and will over owe to letters, comprehends a large proportion of the distinguished personages here assembled. Many of those who deign to be our guests, and who have earned great literary success, are renowned in the Senate; others are conspicuous ornaments of the Church or of the learned professions. In the practice of the formative arts there is generally a decided line of demarcation between the professional artist and the amuteur. In letters it is not so—there are no amateur writers. All literary candidates for fame come before the public on nearly equal terms, and the consequence is that the author by profession has not only the whole world to please, but the whole educated world to contend with. In selecting a representative at 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 thoso who are honoured with invitations to attend this anniversary festival, it is one not of the least at tractions that wo 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 wo 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 mo 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 bo admitted to the distinguished honour of belong ing to this Academy on th3 sole pretension of having pro duced ono single copy, however faithful, of one of the groat 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 at 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 are required to form a distinguished painter ? 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 THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, MAY 1, 186a, and almost equally anatomical knowledge of all the express sions, 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 loan 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 Ansdell or surpassed bya 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 aro 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 mo 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 groat and useful undertaking, and in con nection with the toast—" Success to the Dublin Interna tional Exibition," I bog 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 SUCCEGS 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 who 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—We 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, ho is about to proceed on his third African expedition. (Cheers.) Dr. LIVINGSTONE briefly acknowledged the toast. The PnEsinErr—T he toast which I have now the honour to propose is, "Prosperity to the City of Loudon, 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 samo sense,and it must be admitted with very satisfactory results. (Cheers.) The LORD MAYOR—I thank you, Sir Charles Eastlake, for the compliment you have paid to the city of London by inviting me as its chief magistrate to be present at this mag 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 aro 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 continuo 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 representation; 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.) 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 archaoology 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 unfrequontly introduced in painting and sculp ture ; and their best acknowledgments are duo to his lordship for his enlightened attention to the objects of those institutions and for rendering the studios 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 tho 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. Bo 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 be no mean return. (Cheers.) The PRESIDENT, in proposing the (oast, " 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 satisfaction which his superintendence had afforded. (Cheers.) Mr. Tar., 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 one 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 now 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. Tho 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 er chi to cturo ; 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 tho "Piazze Statuto" at Turin.—(Cheers.) The company then separated. SPIRIT OF 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 III. 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 storigticeiavbillegoavnedrnni unjust,en government which h was g apparently oodre b as o o t n h impracticable to believe that the overthrow of th e S ou the rn a rm ies was a death-blow to Secessi on . Alth oug h h e h a d a t e had 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 or n futuigu coitittly. Aceunlitig 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 b e li eve d 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 lie 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 lie 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 Tennessee for 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 blief 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 t 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 11.1 4 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, ho 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 foreignGovernments, 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 TILE SALMON FISIIERIES.— 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 has been increasing 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 shortcomin g s of the act have since gi ven occas i on to so manydiscourage ments that some of the voluntary associations are already extinguished, and others are declining rapidly towards extinction. So bold is the advantage taken of fin-n-3 in the law, that some Illegal exporters to France of unseasonable salmon ci uring 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 lef t 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 salmon rod, small as his catch may be in comparison with that of the lightly-taxed men of putts and putchers in 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 an im eestImrVoohynee e r d y e , tt p lh o we r r t efi a n sbh t e ei m nr yg e , a h n oa s fs obf course,elei vne fewmo o o d s tfi f o soi r ri e t r l e i n o ni t et - t in s r a ,e n ll y d i s td . l 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 was nobody to contest in the law courts these false claims. But under the amended act a commission of inquiry will proceed as in Ireland, 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 e ven i n 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 poisoninc , 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 i n t er l ocutors k now 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 Bismark asks the support of Parliament in order that he may play his previously settled part with an assured claque. It is too absurd, and 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 his personal share. Kiel is half Austrian by deeds not yet two years old, yet Herr von Bismark not only says he will not give it up—which is all right, as he may intend to pay for it—but actually in the face 'f 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. in We say nothing of the fact that Holstein belongs the first place to the Federation, for the Kaiser mai, at heart app rove a savage snu b to the Diet, a nd nothing of the injury done to the Duchy, for Francis Joseph cares very little about duchies, but we con fine ourselves to the slap on the 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 al liance which involves suc h extraordinary trickery for no conceivable end. Au s t r i a an d Prussia in set tlin g the destinatio n o f th e D uc hi es v i o late DO tional law, break no promises which will hurt , ta t consciences of Hohenzollerns or IIapsburgs, neglect no principle the force of which they have ever a c e knowledged. As to external interference, they ha" only to announce their union to make such Inter ference hopeless, or at least to place themselves in wort , position in whichi defence would not involve risk than the prize is worth. 'Why, then, should they be at the pains to act out an intrigue which call deceive themselves and will deceive nobody else,, We believe that the second solution is, despite al' 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 , la ic l might provoke the Prussian Court to an *p e ! to force. So numerous and inveterate are her ene mies, so wretched is the condition of her financ es ' interne' and so dispirited is her Court, that even withis the support of the m i nor St a tes she f eels unequal to a great war. The prosperity of e he people and the popularity of the re igning hn ua • i i , possible sway in North Italy and certain poerea wer Germany, have all alike been sacrificed to the erhe'er tion of a magnificent a rm y, a n d now, when • rival makes a clutch at the one object of arabiti e left on earth to a H a p s b urg , th e o ld Imperial Cron that army is found useless because incapable,1e movement without a crash which would bring 1„ old fabric down. Ne ver was th ere such a satire L'is' military monarchy. The population of Austri a forty millions and that of Prussia barely nineteen, her revenue is more th an d ou bl e , her army ne arly threefold in number, her German a lli a nces at least eight times as powerful, and yet Prussia takesal a port which half b e l ongs t o h er w ithout g c nt through the formality of first asking permissill l ' il is a strange position for the Muse of Hap Her r and it involves this ver y i m p or t an t result . `"; mi t von Bismark has only to co me t o some agreem - n d with the French to swallo w th e D u chies whole , 1 :de see North Germany at hi s fe e t. All o ther pot' i o rivals have been beaten. Russia needs supPo! A i n Berlin to keep the chronic revolt in Poland bounds, is at this moment se n di ng ou t acrid cireuw4, about the danger to which the revolutionary P a f, t . of Europe—i.e., the Bonapartes—continue t0 to pose her. Austria, as we have seen, i s po werlesa ie, interfere. Great Britai n w o u ld b e , o n the vi ll° 0 0 rather pleased to see Prussia become a conside r % is maritime power, and does not forget that when a a said Berlin does not love the Pope. Italy -*vela:110f anything which gratifies her well-founded disli k it Vienna, and the Diet—well, the Diet, know al b y o ut cannot avoid being cooked, is chiefly anxions a g e rr the sauce. There remains F rance a l on e, and lt ',„, a ce von Bismark can offer France compensation, -" - i ie$ is not to be feared. We utte r ly rejec t all the st° he , which exiles are always repeating of b ar gains to tween Napoleon and the c i-d evan t Ambassau700 his Court, of concerted cessio ns an d planned Ba var ia, campaigns for plunde r i ng t err it or y f r om 133 % e v, and accept only the one visible fact. grw ° T o o, both daring, both ambitious, both unscrue, and both desirous f or so lid reasons o f territoria l fy grandisement, can, if they will but agree, g r th ati o se ' their passion. One does. not pe rc eive under be circumstances what the " balance of power" can considered worth. NORWICH—SATURDAY. I t At tO' The supply of wheat was only limited at this rila r '''" r day, and ruled firm at an advance of about is 0 p er 2 ' for w a i l i l i t e good wheat qualities. (lveig h in T g h e 63 b 1 a b r 1 e t o y t 6 r 4 a 1 d b o ), is nog' quit nominal one, at late terms. , 4 in GS; it r i n e : ditto (weighing 631b to ' 641b), 36s to 38s ; bos' --, ditto barley (weighing 551b to 561b), 30s to 33s ; ri ll ;" igli (weighing 541b to 551b), 28s to 30s ; distilling ditto C W ,.." gs ing 521b to 531b), 24s to 2Gs ; oats, 24s to 26s ; beP t - OS to 39s; peas (maple), 36s to 38s qr; flour, ' 2 ' s -° per qr , 6d per sack. 1 9 (1 111 averages :—Wheat, 2,163 qrs, 38s 9d ; barley, 1 1- 4 23s Gd ; oats, — qrs, —s Od. 44s to YORK—SATURDAY. • 1101 , Business was ste a dy an d p r i ces were is per q r big n o t o, Barley supported th e ra t es o f l as t wee k, but there T ro , 7 Ana much showing. For oats the re was a healthy inquiry' the full rates of last week were made. 39s P er New white wheat, 40s to 45s ' • new red, 37s to .nding, 36 stone. Barl e y, f or ma lti ng, 28s to 30s per qr ; .;:; - " s tort e ; 26s to 27s per 30 st one . O a t s, new 20s to 22s per 4 ,, 8s per Beans, 38s to 40s per 38 s t one . M a lt , 58 s ; rye , - qr. Flour, 28s per sack of 2801b. NO IG AM—SATURDAY. trO ci We had a moderate show H of wheat to-day. Th e l ju ited was firm, at fully is per qr . a d vance . Th er e was the supply of barley, and the demand was steady at au ° Cd t he rates of last week. Of o a t s th e s h ow wa s small, 3 demand proved fair, at the extre me r at es o f last we e1,. o ei'l Old white wheat, 42s to 47s ; old red, 40s to 4 45 ; ipr white, 42s to 478 ; now red, 40s to 44s per 36 stone - o s t° ley, new malting, 27s to 35s per qr; old grinding7, 0 305; 28s ; new, 25s to 27s per 30 ston e . O a t s , old, 25 5 t a ,08) new, 22s to 25s ; old foreign, 24s to 26s per stolio• old, 40s to 43s ; new, 37s to 40s per 38 stone. There was agLaiEn I a C s E o S m T e l E v M ilt 1 — t 1 S i A T n T i u t :an supply otfb bi ne,61:uji te t l o y : , O da f y, b, a ir n le d y sa th le e s re w w er a e s m n a o d t e m at u a c h h ou sh t 0 1 w s in pe g r , a q n r. d mo re O u iryf was fair at pre v i ous ra t es. Th e s h ow o f oa ts was S and the demand ruled firm at full prices. oelf Old white wheat, 42s to 45s ; old red, 37s to 415; po white, 41s to 45s ; new red, 37s to 41s per 36 steno . _p r 3 0 ley, malting, 32s t o 35 s per qr . ; gr i n di ng , 27s to 2 241 ico. stone. Oats, old, 244 to 27s ; ne w , 22 s to 24s per Beans, old, 39s to 41s ; now, 36s to 38s per 38 stone' DIIBLIN.—FRIDAY. r All There was a fair attendance and a s t ea dy dem_ a uu ;doat 5 ' f- .h e at a grain at fully previous currencies. Foreign wile , - ba0i tho turn dearer. Indian corn, 32s. Flour met 1 11 ° r° ness at full rates. Oatmeal quiet.re ao , Currencies :—Whito wheat, 22s 6d to 24s 6d ; Molt 20s 6d to 22s Od; grinding barley, 12s Od to 13s ()(1 ' do . ing do., 13s to Hs 6d; white oats, lls to 12s; b 13 ' e 10s Od to 11s Od. -• The following were the quotations this morialug • 69 wheat, 7s Gd to Os Od ; white, 8s 8d to Os Od • barley , „ 6c1; to Os Od; oats, 8s Od to 8s 2d ; bl ac k oats, i,3d to w' bore, Os Od. --,...- Australia and New Zealand, via Southampton 'SW 1 1 37 Ditto, via Marseilles day 4. Brazil and Cape - Verde, by British packet ...... .. • • 22. Ditto, by French packet gal Ar „ c 25. Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena...• , " — ai ,,' 0. China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton 13. Ditto, via Marseilles .... gaY Falkland Islands 310 °' Gibraltar, via Southampton ma y India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via Southampton•••,--- - 13. • Ditto, via Marseilles . gaY , 2 .... play " A : India (Bombay), via Southampt on.. day '- Ditto, via Marseilles .. •.• j o, Mauritius, via Southampton .................... • 31$1 0. Ditto, via Marseille+ •• 318f O. ..... • - ... sy 1 Newfoundland ...... '"" 4. .. ... 57 Portugal • ••••:. Ditto, by private ship to Lisbon ..... . • United States and British N o r t h A m erica, by Bri - 4 .Bfal tish packet ....... • • Ditto, by United States packet, via Southamp- tcn • ...... ..••• ................... •• Ditto, via C;rk ....................... 6 Ditto, by Canadian packet, via Londondcrff• • ., 1 " 13. West Coast of Africa, Madeira, and T e neriffe ..... ' 1 ' 61 West Indies and Pacific (except Bahamas, Cuba , 15' and Mexico ................ .................. Bahamas, via New Y ork. ........................... it, t y 10 ' Cuba Berm u an da d , m di e t x to i;;; .. .. ...................................... .......................... t , -: 0 29. irths. EASTLE.—On the 27th ult , B at Clifton, the wee 19-f 14 Castle, Esq., of a son. • ` rife ' INGLIS.—On the 23d inst., at Scarborough , LAI 4900' Major Inglis, late of the 5th D ra goon Guards, of t he wifa LEWIS.—On the 28th ult. at 42, Euston-squ are, of Alfred D. Lewis, Esq., of a daughter. FIELDING Marriage6. , pe terV Chapel, in Westminster Abbey Lad;, Adelaid critte00 } A `ielding, daughter of the Earl 'of DenbightPoorsio rchibald Murray, Esq., son of the late Non. i % and nephew to the Earl of Mansfield.. r itoot Kent, OD—CURTO011 the 29th ult , at Old u s u s ' ex , to William Walford Es of liocking, ' s c Jle r Emily Frances, daughter cl.' late Charles of the Curtoys, Esq. —MURRAY.—On the 27th inst , at Sahi b ° -0,0i11 BRODRICK.--On the 24th De in a s t t h ., Tipto n B m ank, Macclesfield, Thomas Brodrick, Bsq ., J• ° d 7 13 cu an of the North Staffordshire Railway Co., a ged ' sir NARD.—On the 28th ult., . ' 1rd°1'5' at 26, Prince s-g, Samuel Cunard, Bart., aged 78. Vaiilb PALIN • .—On the 27th ult., at Greenwich, John Roe - Esq., age d 68. 001 SARGE ' n 9 t AITNT.--„,n tho -8.h ult., at 1, Porchester-s4 Charlestoe- S argeaunt, Esq., late of Bushden, NorthatoP shire, aged 58. r- Rochesteed SIEVIER.—On the 28th ult., suddenly, at 35, road, N.W., Robert William Sieviery,'Esq, F• 13 ' 8 "' gg s a ' t his residence, chair' 71. raric - WILLIAMS.—On the 28th ult at his residence 12, r. square west, Regent's-park, Wm. Williams,'Beql for Lambeth, aged 77. __.-....--!____---- ...... Lo s n tr d a o n n d i P in rin th te e d l a: r l e d ei r a u:li o b f h , e t d h b e y s W av IL oy L : in Ali t : c0 : 13 0 1 11Z• of No. 112, Strand, Panter at THE SUN CO O, ""° of Middlesex.—Monday, May 1, 1805.