The Sun. — London, England, 1854-01-23 00:00:00

s, 61% ditto Od. ; Od ; Od to 2s Od is 4d cash, )ort i 4 v crop have ted to )8. A. ut the s' pro exists II pro- S. d. .43 0 .38 0 38 0 in the ashire , 101; .11 and low 6/. anal, 5 ere : ;astern rinder- Lester, ;astern I there orning ❑glian, 1 , 60 i ; —East 30 27% 25 52% a OZ. 17 9 0 0 4 117; 0 0 5 1% , st-office Whei, Inc In nf;land. ,ch Mon (certain. b. 14 n. 29 n, 20 b. 1 ilk 1.26 .Th. Sat. . 1 wedaily icedally 1.26 Icedaily i. 26 ). 16 ). 14 r. 1 L. 28 r. 1 certa will ba Lia via ed the 00N6 BENT army, cured )le, as unted ent of sue- Pills./ parts rse of ed for b. 16 b. 16 1. 26 1. 26 the 4 . Logi- ' the , - LONDON Ss NORTH-WESTERN RAILWAY• —Notice is hereby given, that all ARTICLES whioh hays beeu left in the carriages of the Company, or have been found upon the railway, between the Ist of January and the 31st of December, 1852 , and which are NOT CLXI 4EI) within one month from the date hereof, will be SOLD to pay the expenses. By order. MARK RIJISII. General Manager's Office, Euston Station, London, • Jan. 16, 1854. NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN, that the ORDINARY HALF-YEARLY MEETING, in December last, of the SHAREHOLDERS of the DERBYSHIRE, STAFFORD SHIRE, and WORCESTER:IIIRE JU • CTION RAILWAY, stands Adjourned to WEDNESDAY, the 25th da% of January instant, at 12 o'clock precisely, at the King's Arms Hotel, B idge-smet, West- Minster, when the appointment of Direct rs to supply the vacauc es at the Board will be made. W HARRIS, Secretary. No. 1, Derby-street, Parligment-street, sth January, 1554. CONSTANTINOPLE is just opened at BUR FORD'S, Leicester-square, Embracing the Golden Born Val 1' of Sweet Waters, Pera, Galata, the various Pal ices, Scutari, the Tower of Leander, the Seven Towers, SAxta Sophia, ant ail the ocher Mosques, the Sea of Marmo , a, wth °ant Olympus in the distance, and the Bosporus, with the combined British and French Fleet. The views of Granada and Ills Alhambra, and o, the Berne's° Alps, are also now open. VENTRILOQUISM and NATURAL MAGIC, not ;Mechanical Tricks —Professor LEWIS, having had the honour of performing his inimitable wonders in legerdemain on two occasions before the Queen, Prince Albert, and suite, begs to, announce t the nobility and gentry t hat he will AT [END EVENING PARTIES in town or country. Address, 22. S,urharma ton-stre,t, Bloom-bury. MARTIN'S-HALL.—llaydn's CREATION will be repeated on WEDNESDAY NEXT, January 25, under the direction of Mr. John Hullah. Principal Vocalists—Miss hirch, 11r. T. E. Williams, Mr. Frank Bodda. TICKETS, ONE SHILLING. Gallery, Half-a-Crown ; Stalls, Five :innings Doors open at a Quarter before Seven, commence at Hal. past Seven o'clock. LAURENT'S CASINO, ARGYLE ROOMS, (Lessee, Cass. C. LAURENT, Onslow-house, Fu,.iam•road), —The above Rooms are now OPEN FOR THE SEASON. end will continue open eery evening, with LAURENT'S CELEBRATED BAND. Admission, I. Doors open at half-past 8 Dancing to commence at 9 o'clock, and ter Mate at half-past 11. R OYAL POLYTECHNIC INSTITUTION PATRON—H.IUL PRINCE ALBERT. MAGNIFICENT PHOTOGRAPHIC PICTURES, prepared ex pressly 6S for this Institution by Monsieur Ferriere of Paris, exhibited en a surface of about a thousand square feet, with an ENTIRELY NEW SERIES of DISSOLVING VIEWS, daily at a Quarter past Four, and in the evenings at a Quarter -past Nine. LECTURES by Dr. BACTIOFFNER on WILKINS'S NEW PATENT UNIVERSAL ELECTRIC TELEG.tAPEi LECTURE by J. H. PEPPER, Esq., on SPONTANEOUS COMBUS TION, with Brilliant Experiments. Open Mornings and Evenings. Admission, Is.; Schools and Children under Ten years of age, Half-price. lINGARIAN PROMENADE CONCERTS. —Admismotv-ts..--ROYAL • MARTONBtTE TB EA I'RE Adelaide-street, West strand—Every EVENING, at Eight, by the renowned HUNGARIAN B \ ND, whose performances have created such intense interest throughout the leading European cities The programme is varied nightly, and includes the finest compositions of ancient and modern masters, as well as Hungarian and other na tional Melodies, Mazurkas, Waltzes, Galot , s, and Quadrilles. Ka lozdy, conductor. Soloists—FlUgelhorn, Horanyi ; ciarioneite, \I. Augarde; piano, Miss J. Warman. V caliats Tr , e 31isies Brougham. Morning Performance, Wednesday and Saturday, at Three. PROGRAMME FOR THE DIY. PART L Introduction (Robert Le Diable), Meyerbeer ; Duett (Ann'e Laurie), arranged by G Linley, the Misses Brougham piano forte (La Violette), Miss Julia Warman Waltz ( y [`ream) Lich tenstein; Serena ie (Light of my Soul), W. A , pell, Miss JoseAine Brougham; Duo (Ernani), Verdi; Solo, flturelhorn, Herr It ornuyl Solo, clarinette, M. Awatde ; Polka (The Royal ,us.e . x arranged by T. Distin ; Quadrille (American), Jullien. PART II . • Selection (La Sonnambula),fieTlinr; Duett (The Cousins), G. W. Glover, the Mises Brougham ; Solo, pianoforte (Grand False de Concert), Miss Julia Warman ; Polka (Rendezvous), Strauss ; Qua drille (Salon), K.alozdy ; Ballad (I'll Speak of thee), M. B. Hawes, Miss Elizabeth Brougham; Galop (Cuckoo), Arrang.d by T. Distin ; March (Le Prophets), Meyerbeer MECETI'S RAZORS, Strop, and Paste for lls. 4, Leadenhall-street, London. Pair of Razors, 7s. ; Strop, 3s. 6d. ; Paste, 6d. The Razor war ranted, or exchanged if not approved. Those who find shaving Painful should try the above, it being well known that Niechi has been eminently successful in rendering sha vin g an eas y operation. Superior shaving-brushes, Naples soap, and every article of first rate quality for the toilet. Caution. —Do not buy any strop unless Mechi's name is on it, there being so many counterfeits. Elegant case of razors for presents, from 255. to 10 guineas. Ivory-handled and Scotch strops. CONTRACT FOR WELSH COALS FOR THE COAST OF AFRICA Department of the Storekeeper General of the Navy, Somerset-Place, 20th Jan., 1854. THE Commissioners for executing the Office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, DO HEREBY GIVE NOTICE, that on TUESDAY, the 7th February next, at One o'clock, they «ill be ready to treat With such persons as may be willing to contract for supplying and delivering into Store, at the undermentioned places, the following quantities of SOUTH WALES COALS, fit for the service of her Majesty's steam-ves.els : Sierra Leone, .. ••.. • 2,00 tons. Fernando Po •..• • • 500 „ St. Paul de Loando ........ 1,500 „ Ascension .. • • • . • • ........ 1,000 A Form of the Tender may br. seen at the said Office. No Tender di Will be received after One o'clock on the day of treaty, nor will - any be noticed unless the party attends, or an agent for him duly authorised in writing. Every tender must be addressed to the Secretary of the Admiralty, and bear in the left-hand corner the words " Tender fit Coals," and must also be delivered at Somerset-place, accompanied by a Letter signed b y two responsible persons, engaging to become bound with the person tendering, in the sum of 4,000/. for the due perform. ance of the Contract. CIRCULATION OF THE MORNING PAPERS. SUPPLEMENTS TO THE MORNING ADVE RTISER. THE extraordinary increase which has taken place in the circulation of the " Morning Advertiser" since its enlargement, three years ago, has been followed by so great an Influx of advertisements as to render indi-pensable the publication of aee series oniino of SUPPLEMENTS after the c ommencement of the a pproaching session• S u pplements to the " Morning Adver tiser will Y be issued as often as the pressure of Adverti-ements or intelligence may render their publication requisite. To form an ilea of the increase which Pas taken place in the circulation of the Morning Advertiser," it will only be necessary to give the News paper Stamp Returns for 1850, and the circulation, as nearly as may be ascertained, of the various morning papers. except one, at the present time. In 1850 the Stamp Returns gave the following re sults : MORNING ADVERTISER • • • • • • • • 1,549,843 Daily News .. ••••••••• • •• • • • •• .• • . 1, , 52,000 Morning Herald • • • • • • • • • • • • ...... 1,119,000 912 547 Morning Chron!cle .. • • • • . • • • • • • • Morning P:ist .. ••••••••••" • • • • • • " • ' • • 828 ' 000 It will be observed from this statement, that, omitting the `• Times," the circulation of the "Morning Advertiser" was then tar above that Of its morning contemporaries. Were the stamp Returns to be given down to the present time, the relative circulation of the" Morning Advertiser to its four morning contemporaries avuming that their circulation has undergone no diminution —would be as f Vows:— MOR NIN G ADVER ISER _• • .. • • • . 2,356,26 0 1,152,000 Daily News -.. • ..... ... •• • • • Morning Herald .. .•• • • • • ..... . 1 139,000 Morning Chronic'e.. • • • ... ...• •• • • . 912,517 Morning Post ••.•••••••• • • • • • • • • • ' 828,000 Adver- It will be seen that the present circu lation of the " Morning tiser" is more than double that of the two highest of its four contem- Poraries, and nearly treble that of one of their number The annals Of journalism contain no instance of success at all approaching to this. Such brilliant progress Is the best compliment which could be paid to the " Morning Advertiser's entire independence of all parties and Governments, and its earnest and. unceasing advocacy of the popular cause. Published every morning at 127, Fleet-street. January, 18 •i 4. MEDICAL ADVICE ON THE SECRET INFIRMITIEi OF YOUTH AND Ni ATURITY. DE. SAMUEL LA' MERT, 37, REDEORD-SQUABV., LONDON Doctor of Medicine, and Matriculated Memher of the University 0, Edinburgh, Honorary Member of the London Hospital Medical goeiety, Li ce ntiate of Apothecaries' Hall, London, &c., &c MAY be consulted, personally, or by letter, on the various disorders of the nervous and generative system, resulting from juvenile irregularities and excesses, which have pro duced more misery in youth, degradation in manhood, and prema ture decay at all stages of life, than perhaps any other class of dis eases known to modern pathologists. Long and practical experience in the treatment of these diseases has proved that there are in exis!- ence secret causes of self-acquired miseries and disappointed hopes in existence, traceable to certain pernicious habits, to which Nervous Debility, various forms of Insanity, Unhappy and Unfruitful Marri ages, Impotency, Local and Constitutional Weakness, and their endless modifications owe their almost entire origin. It is absolutely necessary that all men should know that there are Principles of personal management which cannot be violated without Incurring grievous penalties, and when wisdom and regret succeed the heyday of inconsiderate self-Indulgence, how these penalties may be mitigated, how the sting of their bitterness may be removed, and how the evil and its con , equenc es may be avoided, and above all, that there is scarcely any degree of physical infirmity or functional derangement to which the timely aid of science cannot apply a cure. DOCTOR LA'MERT has for a long series of years been engaged in an extensive practice in the treatment of these delicate com plaints, and is the only legally qualified Physician who, regardless tauntsof the f and envy of the hypocritical and mock-modest, has had attention the to through the medium of the public press, to direct enormous evils, department wrabciteichenohegrhat obfeseonciety amplyis free. In selecting rewarded by the great success that has p attended his efforts in t treatment of these cases, which are too generally confided to the care of unqualified and ignorant publications, assumed foreign nameseraPirles' who, with their pirated inflicted and titles, and pretended virtues of their patent nostrums, have t t h ed eir se4 e ou te s n i s n io ju n iz ou those who have been induced to place faith in At home for consultation daily from Eleven till Two, and from Six till Eight. All let ters m u s t contain the fee of I/. and advice and medicines can be forwarded to any initial s or address. It 13 desirable that patients wishing to cons u lt Dr. LA'MERT should first obtain a copy of his work on SELF-PRESERVATION A . Medical Treatise on the Philosophy of Marriage and Nervous and Messrs nglish, Generative Debility, illustrated by fifty-coloured engravings, and des cribing in detail the various disorders resulting from secret habits and excesses. The perusal of this treatise will assist in the correct description of their cases, and may be had, price 2s 6d French, Spanish, Dutch, Italian, or German, of "'per Brothers and Co., 23, Paternoster-row; HannayH aymOar, 63, xtordstreet ; Mann, 39, Cornhill ; Storie , Titchborne-street, ket or free IDY 'post for forty-two stamps, to env address from the Author's rebi d en ce.37. BEDFO%D.SOCTAILE LONDON. ON THE SECRET CAUSES OF SE _ _ LF-ACQUIRED MISERIES A ND DISAPPOINTED HOPES. THE SILENT FRIEND. In Six Languages — TION OF DISEASE. CONTAINING THE REMEDY FOR PERVEN gravings and Illustrated by One Hundred .Anatomical Cploared Fiftieth Edition. Cases. New Edition, enlarged to 200 pages, price 2s. 6d., by post, from the Establishment, Is. 6d. in stamps; . on THE SILENT FRIEND, a Medical Work the exhaustion and physical decay of the system, produc ed b y excessive indulgence, the consequences of infection, or the abuse of mercury, with directions for the use of th e p reventive lotion, fol lowed by observations on Marriage , an d the disqualifica tions whi t and prevent it. Illustrated by 100 Coloure d Engravings. —3 7 , PERRY and CO., Consulting Surgeons, 19, Berners-street, moot. street, London. Published by Sherwood and Co., nve, and sold by Hannay, 63, and Sanger, 150, Oxford-street ; Gor don, 146, Leadenhall-street ; 95, Earringdon- street ;W. Sutton, 10, 23, Paternoster - Bow Church-yard; Butler. 4, Cheapside ; R Johnson, 68, Cornhill. PART I. treats of the anatomy and physiology of the reproluctive organs, and is illustrated by 28 Coloured Engravings. PART 11. treats of the consequences resulting from excessive in dulgence, and their lamentable effects on the system, producing mental and bodily weakness, nervous excitement, and generative incapacity. Illustrated by 10 Explanatory Engravings. PART 111. treats of the diseases resulting from infection, either in the primary or secondary form, and contains explicit directions for their treatment. This section is Illustrated by 62 Coloured Engrav ings. PART IV. contains a Remedy for the Prevention of Disease by a Simple application, by which the danger of infection is obviated. PART V. is devoted to the consideration of rnsrruute and its diities. The causes of unproductive union are also considered, and the whole subject critically and philosophically inquired into. THE CORDIAL BALM OF AYRI AC UM is exclusively employed in treating nervous and sexual debility, impotence, tkc., lis and 335. per bottle. The Concentrated betersive Essence, an anti -syphilitic remedy, for purifying the blood in cases of infection, secondary symptons, eruptions, and the abuse of mercury, I Is. and 335. per bottle. Perry's Purifying Specific Fills. 2‘. 9d., 4s. 6d.. and Ils. per box, a certain remedy for gonorrho3a, gleet, stricture, and chronic infiamm‘tion of the bladder. rnnsultatiou fee, if by letter, El. A minute detail et the case is required : age, habits, and posi tion in society. Si. Packets, with advice, to he had at the Establish ment only, by which the fee, Id_, is saved. Messrs. Perry, Surgeons, are in attendance, daily, at 19, Berners-street, Oxford-street, Lon don, from Eleven till TWo. and Five to Eight; on Sand.a7 from Eleven to One. 1. 30 ). 4 Now ready, 'Vole I. to IV. (to be complet ed in Five Vole ), price Bs. each, sin EDWARD BuLwEr, LYTTON'S POETICAL and 1 R kMATIC WORKS. Now first collected, a,d containing many poems never bef ,re published. " Not the least striking evidences of the poet's genius, of the th'nker's intellectual activity. Fan..,y and reeling av e richly dis plaN ed in all, and in a few referring to classical strjects the scholar declares himself equally with the poet in their learned felicity and imaginative subtlety of allusion."—Examiner. London: Chapman and Hall, 193, Piccadilly. On Saturday next will be published, in fcp. Bvo. with Two Plates by B. 11 , rring, RECORDS of the CHASE and MEMOIRS of CELEBRATED SPORTSMEN ; illustrating some of the Usages of 0' den times, and comparing them with prevailing Customs : Together with an Introduction to most of the Fashionable Hunting Countries; and Comments. By CECIL, Anthor of " The Stud Farm" and " Stable Practice." London : Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans. DR. CUMMING'S NEW WORK. This day, in fcp , cloth, full gilt, price 95., THE TENT AND THE ALTAR ; or, Sketches FROM PATRIARCHAL LIFE. By the Rev. JOHN CUM- Ni I NG, n.D., F.R.S.E., with vignettes, uniform with "Apocalyptic ',ketches." Arthur Hall, Virtue and Co , 25, Paternoster-row. This day, in post Bvo , with vignettes, 600 pp., neatly bound, price lOs 6d., ROME, REGAL AND REPUBLICAN, a His tory for Families. By JANE STRICKLAND, edited by Agnes Strickland, Author of "Lives of the Queens of England," &c. Arthur Hall, Virtue and Co., 25, Paternoster•row. ROBERT COCKS • and. CO.'S OCTAVO ED TION of" MESSIAH," from Mozart's Score, with the A ppendix. By JOHN B IS HOP. Imp. Bvo., pp. 257, 6 s. 6 d. ; folio , 15s. ROBERT COCKS and CO.'S OCTAVO EDITION of "THE CREATION." By JouN BISHOP p 5v0., np. 181, 45. 6d. ; folio, 15s. ROBERT COCKS and. CO.'S OCTAVO EDITION of " SA.MSON." By Dr. CLARKE. Imp. Bvo., pp. 324, Cs.; folio, by JOHN BIS tOP, 154. London : Robert Cocks and Co., Publishers to the Queen, New Burlington- 'tre.t HAYDN'S CREATION.—ROBERT COCKS and CO.'S STAN , ARD OCTAVO EDITIO. 4s 6d. V:. itors to St. M .rtin'e Hall on We dnesda y , the 25th, will find this elegant Handbook a suitable companion. It will be equally a:pro priate as a handsome memorial upon the drawing-room table or piano orte. Specimen pages (or the work itself) may be had at St. Martin's Hall, Long-acre. THE FAMOUS HIGHLAND CLOAK.- A variety of MACDOUGALL'S FAMOUS HIGHLAND CLOAKS, in all colours, may be seen at Messrs. POOLE and MACGILLIVRAY'S, 25, Princes-street, Cavendish-square, as well as samples of the materials of which they are made. R. ALBERT SMITH'S MONT BLANC, r includmz the BERNESE OBERLAND and the SIMPLON, EVERY EVENING at Eight o'Clock, (except Slturday), and Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday Moridnus, at Two Stalls, 35., which can be taken at the hox offic- , eve'y day from II to 4 ; area, 25.; gallery, Is — Mont Bla nc, Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly. GEOLOGY. —Kin's College, London.—Pro fessor TENNANT, F.Cr R., will give a COURSE of LEC. TURES on GEOLOGY. To commence on WEDNESDAY MORNING, January 25th, at Nine o'clock, and to be continued on each succeed• ing Friary and Wednesday, at the ame hour. R. W. JELF, D.D., Principal. MORRIS'S BLACK SWAN HOTEL, SNIG-HILL, SHEFFIELD. Commercial Gentlemen and others are respectfully solicited to give this Hotel a trial. The house has been thoroughly Re-furnished, and affords every domestic comfort. Spacious and excellent Stabling. T. S. and R. M. MORRIS (late Head Waiters at the Royal Hotel Sheffield, and Angel Hotel, Whitby), Proprietors. T HE CONSERVATIVE LAND of d SOCETY. The foil wing returns show the progress this I reehol Franchise undertaking from its commencement to the Fourteenth Public Drawing. The number of Shares is.ued and Cash received urine the first five quarters are as follows : Date. Shares In Shares T o t a l. Cash. Progress. 'ompleted 1852. Sept. 7to Dec. 24.. 1,360 187 1,547 £12,161 11 0 1853. Dec. 24 to Nlarch 24 1,347 83 1,430 8.083 0 6 June 24 .......... 1,462 217 1,679 17,401 15 3 Sept mber 29 ... •• 1,310 168 1,474 18,424 18 11 December 24 ...... 1,547 143 I 1,590 20,302 211 Total.. •• .... 7,026 798 7,824 t 76,377 8 7 Shares taken from the 7th of September, 1852, to tlge Four teenth Public Drawing on January 14, 1854 •• • • • • ...... 8,406 hhares on the Order of Rights by com p letion, by public draw -I,.gs, and be seniority .• •• •• ••• • . .............. 2,?24 Last Share No. on the Order of Rights by seniority...... • • 712 S u b sc r i bed Capital •• ••..•• •• •• •• £420,300 0 0 Paid up .. .•••• •• • • Bonus realised on shares during the first year .. • • •• Six per cent. Interest now allowed on completed shares, and on payments of N year's subscription and fees, and upwards, in advance •• •••••• •• •• •• .. ••• Five per cent. Estates purchased .........................Sixteen. ++ allotted •• •• •• • • • • •••• •• •• • Eight. „ ready for allotment .......... •• • • Five. CHARLES LEWIS GRUNEISEN, Secretary. 33, Norfolk-street, Strand, London, Jan. 14, 1851. ANOTHER NOTE , . • -, alli kii - ‘ • , e ..",..• ~ :i3.4 0i iii*,,, 'Mt' (sc. , . ~, - , i_--g '''* ' . s, ~0 . ~..= -r - :,,-." . ,- ; ,4_ —. , . ... i.f,....,_ :: Art 9 (_/Al a--2.-e , • .. ,„. '-' —' • ~..- l - _-... . , - ',. , \ ",,,4044 "*.• ..5., 17-\ ;,\*' -" . .-.-- N ir . '"''' - • -., ~, . .F i„. .1 ..... , t, , ,.. *,,,,,,, . - .'', , ,, , ,t , 1.• 0 1/ A , 1it „..,,,-;..., • ~,, -, &., ,;....„ ~,,..,. --,..,.,,, ~,t,, ~,, e --4 , ::-,r;..._----4_, ....'"'' fr ---- ,: j\-----In: - „,,, ,, , ,, 4fo) , '), : -.m : ; 1 •,• , 1,, , , . k.k. •.,-,,...----.. .• ../ ' „.„ I N. "Tx4 , ./ 41, .. IF/ - -,' . g.'t' . V '` _,„.„,,,,, e ~.. , I.:: ~,, , k••• -' ~, - +0 4 4 , 4 '• 4 a * : - ~:$d aide' gtik , .t..."`a41. 4 p• -ii ~, ,-.•1-- 0 -- • 1 - I . .::: 7, ) Q____- -'- ' ' • ,t , ) ,•) , , 4 , .!i ..,14 %.... 11 ----: i 3 ° ''' W4 ' " 4.1 % P" ''. " ''' , l , ''` - 4 A . 3' Z . ..rd'!' \''' 4 44t)k't. k ...... ii ) „ ' di \\:. .„4- .. va, „/„.\ , .1 1 , "nf [ PRICE SD• iresume to arrogat ; e ado. of the pretc ; bs) eve e, as a.r .f books, and a man of e -world, that nherit a re , gion which, in its most familiar form, in e • ly prayer that you learned from your mother's lips, will save you from the temptations to whit 1 life i 9 exposed, more surely than all which the pride .of philo sophy can teach. (Loud applause.) Nor can J. believe that the man will ever go very far or very otrot%inately wrong who, by the mere habit of thanksgivi.n g and prayer, will be forced to examine his conscience, e von but once a day, and remember that the eye of the Aln'xightY is upon him. 'One word further. Nothing, to my r.O ind, preserves a brave people true and firm to its heredi't'ary virtues more than a devout though liberal spirit: , of nationality. (Applause.) And it is not because Scot land is united with England that the Scotchman should. forget the glories of his annals, the tombs of his an' , cestors, or relax one jot of his love for his native soil.' (Applause.) I say not this to flatter you—l say it nest for Scotland alone. I say it for the sake of the empire. .For sure I am that. if ever the step of the invader should land upon these kindred shores—there, wherever the national spirit is the most strongly felt—there, where the local :4- fections most animate the breast—there will our defendei be the bravest. (Applause.) It would ill become me tcr enter into the special grounds of debate now at issue ; but permit me to remind you that, while pressing with your accustomed spirit for whatever you may deem to be eqi - tal rights, you would be untrue to your own fame if you d id not feel that the true Majesty of Scotland needs neither the pomp of courts nor the blazonry of heralds. What' though Holyrood be desolate—what th3ugh no king holds revels in its halls—the empire of Scotland has but extended its range ; and, blended with England, under the daughter of your ancient kings, peoples the Australian wilds that lay beyond the chart of Columbus, and rules over the In dian realms that eluded the grasp of Alexander. (Loud applause.) That empire does not suffice for you. It may decay—it may perish. More grand is the domain you have won over human thought, and identified with the ete_rnal progress of intellect and freedom. (Renewed applaus,e.) From the charter of that domain no ceremonial can dis place the impression of your seal. In the van of that pro gress no blazon can flaunt before that old Lion of Scotland (pointing to the flag suspended opposite.) (Great cheering.) This is the empire that you will adorn' in peace ; this is the empire that, if need be, you will defend in war. It is net here that I would provoke one difference in political opinion —but surely you, the sons of Scotland, who hold both fame and power upon the same tenure as that which secures civilisation from lawless force—surely you are not the men who could contemplate with folded arms the re turn of the dark ages, and quietly render up the haven that commands Asia on the one side and threatens Europe on the other, to the barbaric ambition of some new Alone of the north. (Loud applause.) But, whether in reluc tant war or in happier peace, I can but bid yon be mindful of your fathers—learn from them how duties fulfilled in the world become honours after death ; and in your va rious callings continue to maintain for Scotland her su blime alliance with every power of mind that can defend or instruct, soothe or exalt humanity. (Sir Edward resumed his seat amidst loud and continued applause, the audience rising to their feet en masse.) Lord ROBERTSON said—l am sure there Sno one pre sent who could go home with anything like peace of mind, if the sentiment which must pervade the whole of this meeting were not somehow or other expressed—the senti ment of gratitude to the distinguished Baronet for the un rivalled harangue which has just concluded. (Cheers.) It is unnecessary for me to say anything more than to con vey, in your name, to him our most sincere thanks for the instruction which we have now received from his eloquent lips. (Cheers.) Ido not know intimately the constitution of the associated societies ; but this I know, that they could not have chosen a more admirable president, nor done anything more likely to promote the designs of that classical union which they constitute in our University, than to select him who has, in the brilliant speech which we have now heard, given us so much instruction and en tertainment. (Cheers.) The presence of that distinguished individual prevents me from saying more; and all I will add is, that if you will permit me, as a Scotchman, to re turn thanks for the way in which lie has spoken of my native country, I would say cf him that he is as great an honour to England as Sir Walter Scott was to Scotland. (Cheers.) Sir E. B. LYTTON—I am at a loss for words to express to you the gratitude which I feel for the attention with which you have listened to a long and, perhaps, from its very nature, a somewhat formal and dry discourse. (Cries of " No, no," and cheers.) lam still less able to thank you for the sympathy you have expressed in the too flattering compliment paid me by the distin guished personage who has brought me again before you. Amongst the many causes which have combined to render this inauguration so gratifying to me, is the feeling that my election has not been attended with the bitterness of contest—that it was rendered unanimous by the courtesy of the eminent nobleman who, though bearing one of the most illustrious names in Scotland (the Duke of Argyll), worthily supported in his own person, deferred his claims on your favour to those which your kindness ascribed to me. (Cheers.) In this, it seems to me that he was desirous to establish your old reputation for hospitality, by giving you the occasion to prove how well you can receive a stranger. (Cheers.) I must own that I have been somewhat embarrassed this day, not only by my re spect for the judgment, necessarily fastidious, of an audi ence comprising men so eminent for scholarship and science, but also by the unexpected effect of a display of such charms and attractions, in the gentler part of this assembly, as might well bewilder the most practised orator, and turn the head of the coldest sage. (Laughter.) On my return to the sister metropolis, if I hear conceited gentlemen de clare that they ate quite biases with the beauties of Lon don ball-rooms, I shall tell them that, in order to regain the freshness of the faculty of admiration, they must come here and take a glance at the beauties of Edinburgh. (Laughter and cheers.) It remains for me only to assure you of the deep interest I shall always take in your Col lege, your capital, your country. By birth lam an Eng lishman, it is true ; but it seems to me that, from this day, lam almost a Scotchman by adoption. (Loud cheers.) The proceedings then terminated. dides represent the intense interest with which the Gre cian intellect was accustomed to view the action and strife, the sorrow and triumph, of the human beings, from whom it .never stood superciliously aloof. Though the father of philosophical history. Thucydides knows no thing of that cynical irony which is common to the mo dern spirit of historical philosophy in its cold survey of the follies and errors of. mankind. He never neglects to place full before you whatever ennobles our species, whe ther it be the lofty sentiment of Pericles or the hardy valour of Brasidas. It is his candid sympathy with what ever in itself is pod and great which vivifies his sombre chronicle, and rend , rs him at once earnest yet impartial. Each little bay or creek, each defile or pass, A here gallant deeds have been done, he describes with the conviction that the deeds have hallowed the place to all posterity, and have become a part of that eri)pa etc au which he pro posed to bequeath. This is the spirit which returns to life in your own day and in your own historians, which gives a classic charm to the military details of Napier, and lights with a patriot's fire the large intelligence and pro found research that immortalise the page of Alison. (Loud applause.) Pass from history to oratory. All men in modern times, famous for their eloquence, have recognised Demosthenes as their model. Many speakers in our own country have literally translates passages from his orations, and produced electrical effects upon sober English senators by thoughts first uttered to passionate Athenian crowds. Why is this ? Not from the style—the style vanishes in translation—it is because thoughts the noblest appeal to emotions the most masculine and popular. You see in Demosthenes the man accustomed to deal with the prac tical business of men—to generalise details, to render com plicated affairs clear to the ordinary understanding— and, at the same time, to connect the material interests of life with the sentiments that warm the breast and exalt the soul. It is the brain of an accomplished states man in unison with a generous heart, thoroughly in earn est, beating loud and high with the passionate desire to convince breathless thousands—how to baffle a danger, and to save their country. (Applause.) A little time longer, and Athens is free no more. The iron force of Macedon has banished liberty from the silenced Agora. But liberty had already secured to herself a gentle re fuge in the groves of the Academe—there, still to the last, the Grecian intellect maintains the same social, humanising, practical aspect. The immense mind of Aristotle gathers together as in a treasure-house for future ages, all that was valuable in the knowledge that informs us of the earth on which w e dwell—the political constitutions of States, and their results on the character of nations, the science of ethics, the analysis of ideas, natu ral history, physical science, critical investigation, omne immensum , peragravit ; and all that he collects from wisdom he applies to the earthly uses of man. (Hear, hear.) Yet it is not by the tutor of Alexander, but by the pupil of Socrates, that our vast debt to the Grecian mind is completed. When we remount from Aristotle to his great master, Plato—it is as if we looked from nature up to nature's God. There, amidst the decline of free dom, the corruption of manners—just before the date when, with the fall of Athens, the beautiful ideal of sen suous life faded mournfully away—there, on that verge of time stands the consoling Plato, preparing philosophy to receive the Christian dispensation, by opening the gates of the Infinite, and proclaiming the immortality of the soul. (Applause.) Thus the Grecian genius, ever kindly and benignant, first appears to awaken man from the sloth of the senses, to enlarge the boundaries of self, to connect the desire of glory with the sanctity of household ties, to raise up in luminous contrast with the inert despotism of the old Eastern world—the ener gies of freemen, the duties of citizens ; and, finally, accomplishing its mission as the visible Iris, to States and heroes, melts into the rainbow, announcing a more sacred covenant, and spans the streams of the Heathen Orcus with an arch lost in the Christian's Heaven. (Applause.) I have so exhausted your patience in what I have thus said of the Grecian literature that I must limit closely my remarks upon the Roman. And here, in deed, the subject does not require the same space. In the Greek literature all is fresh and original ; its v. ry art is but the happiest seleotion from natural objects knit together with the zone of the careless Graces. ' But the Latin literature is borrowed and adopted ; and, like all imitations, we perceive at once that it is arti ficial—but in this imitation it has much exquisite taste, in this artificiality there is so much refinement of polish, so much stateliness of pomp—that it assumes an origin ality of its own. It has not found its jewels in native \ mines, but it takes them, with a conqueror's hand, and weaves them into regal diadems. Dignity and polish are the especial attributes of Latin literature iu its happiest age ; it betrays the habitual influence of au aristocracy, wealthy, magnificent, and learned. To borrow a phrase from Persius—its words sweep along as if clothed with the toga. Whether we take the sonorous lines of Virgil or the swelling periods of Cicero, the easier dignity of Sallust, or the patrician simplicity of Caesar, we are sensible that we see with a race accustomed to a mea sured decorum, a majestic self-control, unfamiliar to the more lively impulse of small Greek communities. There is a greater demarcation between the intellect of the writer and the homely sense of the multitude. The Latin writers seek to link themselves to posterity rather through a succession of select and well-bred admirers than by cor dial identification with the passions and interests of the profane vulgar. Even Horace himself, so brilliant an d easy, and so conscious of his monumentum core perennius, affects disdain of popular applause, and informs us with a kind of pride that his satires had no vogue in the haunts of the common people. Every bold schoolboy takes at once to Homer, but it is only the fine taste of the scholar that thoroughly appreciates Virgil ; and only the experi enced man of the world who discovers all the delicate wit, all the exquisite urbanity of sentiment, that win our affec tion to Horace in proportion as we advance in life. In short, the Greek writers warm and elevate our emotions as men the Latin writers temper emotions to the stately reserve of highborn gentle men. The Greeks Ere us more to the inspirations of poetry, (or as in Plato and parts of Demosthenes) to that sublimer prose to which poetry is akin, but the Latin writers are perhaps on the whole, though I say it with hesitation, safer models for that accurate construction and decorous elegance by which classical Prose divides itself from the forms of verse. Nor is this elegance effeminate, but, on the contrary, nervous and robust, though, like the statue of Apollo, the strength of the muscle is concealed by the undulation of the curves. (Applause.) But there is this, as a general result from the study of an.ient letters, whether Greek or Roman. Both are the literature of grand races, of free men and brave hearts. Both abound in generous thoughts and high examples ; both, whatever their occasional license, inculcate upon the whole the ha bitual practice of manly virtues ; both glowing with the love of country ; both are animated by the desire of fame and honour. Therefore, whatever may be our future pro fession and pursuit, however they may take us from the scholastic closet, and forbid any frequent return to the clas sic studies of our youth, still he whose early steps have been led into that land of demi-gods and heroes will find that its very air has enriched through life the blood of his thoughts, that he quits the soil with a front which the Greek has directed towards the stars, and a step which imperial Rome has disciplined to the march that carried her eagles round the world. (Loud applause.) Not in vain do these lessons appeal to the youth of Scotland. From this capital, still as from the elder Athens, stream the lights of philosophy and learning. But your country men are not less renowned for the qualities of action than for those of thought. And you whom I address will carry with you, in your several paths to fortune, your national attributes of reflective judgment and dauntless courage. (Great applause.) I see an eventful and stirring age ex pand before the rising generation. In that grand contest between new ideas and ancient forms, which may be still I more keenly urged before thi s century expires, whatever your differences of politic al opinion, ,adjure yohia with i t is hold fast the vital pri nci p le of civili sa tion. W that principle? It is the union of liberty o rder. The art to p reserve this union as often baffled the wisest statesman in stormy times ; but the task becomes easy at once, if the people whom they seek to guide will but carry i n t o pu b l i c affairs the sam e p rudent consideration which com mands prosperity iu private business. You have already derived from your ancestors an immense capital of political freedom ; increase it if you will—but by solid investments, not by hazardous speculations. You will hear much of the necessity of progress, and truly ; for where progress ends decline invariably begins ; but remember that the h e althful progress of society is like the n a t ura l lif e o f man —it consists in the gradual and harmonious development of all its constitutional powers, all its component parts, and you introduce weakness and disease into the whole s ystem, whether you attempt to stint or t 6 force the growth. The old homely rule you prescribe to the individual is ap plicable to a State—Keep the limbs warm by exercise, and keep the head cool by temperance. But new ideas do not invade only our political systems ; you will find them wherever you turn. Philosophy has altered the direc tions it favoured in the last century—it enters less into metaphysical inquiry, it questions less the relationships between man and 1141 Maker, it assumes its practical character as the investigator of external nature, and seeks to adapt agencies before partially concealed to the positive uses of man. Here I leave you to your own bold researches ; you cannot be much mislead, if you re member the maxim, to observe with vigilance, and in quire with conscientious care. Nor is it necessary that I should admonish the sons of religious Scotland that the most daring speculations as to Nature may be accom panied with the humblest faith in those sublime doctrines that open heaven alike to the wisest philosopher and the simplest peasant. (Hear, and loud applause.) Ido not MURDER OF A BRITISH OFFICER.—The Volcano steam-vessel, Commander Robert Coote, has brought home intelligence of the murder of Acting Second Master Carr, a fine young officer, who was turned over from the Prometheus steam-sloop to the Myrmidon steam vessel, still serving on the west coast of Africa, as she has six months of her time to serve on that unhealthy' station. The murder was brutally effected on the 28th. of November, at an island called Kanzabac, one of the Bijonga group. Mr. Carr had landed on some rocks, in tending to spear fish. He had not been on the rocks ton minutes when he was fired at from the bush, and he either tumbled or jumped into the sea. The savages instantly made their appearance, and one of them ran down and stood. on the rocks, where he watched till Carr rose, the impres sion on board the steamer being that he had dived, and the African then shot him through the head. The whole transaction was done in so short a time, that as a gun. was fired from the ship the murderers retreated into the' bush again. A boat was instantly sent to the rocks, but the tide had flowed so rapidly that no traces of Mr. Carr's body could be seen. On the following day the body was found in the water quite dead. The first shot had hit him the abdomen, and was an awful wound, which would of itself have caused death. The second. shot passed in alongside the nose, destroying the upper jaw, and lodging in or close to the brain. The officers and crew of the Myrmidon were burning for revenge for the foul and uncalled for murder, but they could do nothing, as there are no towns near the sea, and to ad vance into a country thickly inhabited with armed men, was not warranted with the small disposable force serves ing in the Myrmidon. THE CONVICT CUMMING.—In the case of William Cumming, capitally convicted before the High Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh, for the murder of his wife, and who was left for execution on Monday, the 9th inst., we stated that a respite had been sent from the Home-offic.e on the evening before (Saturday). This respite was' granted for a fortnight, in order to give time for inquiry into allegations put forward on behalf of the culprit, and emanated from a request of the law authorities in. p b t e u d r g t h o t t h o ien t v h 2eE a 3s t dtdei e idn f f nb e s uit c n. r t g . htt (to-morrow The lr execution They t—h w Heb a y s i egxh t e h c virtueceuroteoibot%oyuti E re d s i a o f n J authorityns tici a y until the 25th—Wednesday next. Lord Palmerst on, however, has yesterday written, in reply to the applioa: how tions in favou r o f the unhappy man, to express his regrot that no case had been made upon which he could advise a reversal of the judgment of the court and the jury bp' which he was condemned, and that, therefore, the law' must take its course.—Observer. RESPITE OF THE CONVICT TAPNER.--On Tuesday last a communication was received by the Lieutenant - Governor of Guernsey, Lieutenant-General Sir John. Bell, through the Home-office, and returning a petitio n which had been presented for a commutation of sentences for the purpose of it being referred to the Royal Court of Guernsey, before whom the p risoner was tried, foil. their report and observations thereon. The petition. having been taken into consideration, the observatio,qg of the court were transmitted by the mail, and were ro• ceived at the Home-office on Saturday last. Pendinlst the answer of the appeal to the clemency of the Crown,. the execution of the prisoner, which had been fixed for Friday, the 27th inst., is postponed ; and the unfort nate man had been respited until the 3d of February. THE PAVEMENTS OF THE MErnorows. — We are sorr.,f to find that the c,,llection of snow is stili suffered to re , main on the pavement outside the railing of Hyde-parar e' ks from the Marble Arch to the corner of the Edgw road, effectually preventing all use of the pavement h the public, and otherwise causing vast annoyance and inconvenience. Surely, it must be somebody's busine ar to see that this public nuisance is at o nce removed; d if, being on the footpath instead of in the road, it is nTt , actually the duty of the parish contractor to remove it, the authorities of the Woods and Forests' Departtnevit ought to see that the lodge-keeper removes the obstruct.. tion, or employs a sufficient number of men for a short: time for the purpose. At present, one of the principal sites in the metropolis is a scandal and an eyesore, asad. a disgrace to all concerned. , —Onl.nursuay last an oper,i,.. F RIGHTFUL ACCIDENT. .e tive in the Belfast IronNiVpeortkhsr,ouwghhilswthsiuehckimngolwteinthirhoi: mouth the air out of a p was to pass—a usual custom in the process—he swallowed. a portion of the melted mass, receiving terrible inter-nal injuries. A hope exists of his ultimate recovery. LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, JANUARY 23, 1854. No . 19,1351 ANOTHER Note is sent to Russia, possibly perfumed with gunpowder: the Principalities are to be relin quished, and the Northern forces to retire. Notes of Interrozation ? and Notes of Admiration! are the notes most applicable to 'he Esta blishments of E. MOSES and S.W. For the advantage of those who are not thoroughly acquainted with London, it is necessary to ob serve that E. MOSES and sow's gigantic houses of business are, Minories and Aldeate (opposite the Church), and their West-end branch is New Oxford-street, corner of Hart-street But many ask, what are E. Moszs and SoN? They are the most noted merchant tailors of the age ! The producers of the best fitting, the best male, and the most fashionable Clothing in the world ! For whom do they make it ? For noblemen, clergy men, men of business, mechanics, and all others ; for adults, youths, and children ! What are their charges? The most eeonomical prices are asked for first-rate articles ! What do they make besides attire? Shirts, the best in materals, the most fashionable in make, the most elegantly em brwdered, and the large- t quantity of plain shirts (in all sizes) which were ever made by any house of I usiness They also make every article of clothing for ladies, for which they charge he most econo mical prices. What do they make, and what do hey sell ? All fashionable articles of hosiery for ladies and gentlemen. Furs, hats, caps, boots an shoes, &c., and the best selected outfits for emigrants to any country or climate. CA CTiON E. ato! ES and SON regret having to guard the ~u hlic against imposition, having learned that the tintradesman-nke :11e.tood of " Beim, connected with heir Establishment," or " the same concern," has been resorted to in many instances, and tot owious reasons, they beg to state that they have 'lo CONNEXION WITH ANY OTHER HOUSE IN OR OUT OF LONDON, except their own Establishments, as follows : London City Establishment, 154, 155. 156, and 157, Minories, 83, i 4, 85, and 86, Aldgate, opposite the Church, N all commu Oxford i - nc streetating, 1, 2 L on don West-end Branch, ew and 3, Hart-street, all communicating. Bradrord (Yorkshire) Branch, 19 and 20, Bridge-street. Sheffield Branch, 36 Fargate. Colonial Branch, Melbourne, Australia. Merchant Tailo. Clothiers, Hatters, Hosiers, Furriers, Boot and Shoe Makers, and General Outfitters for Ladies and Gentlemen EMPORTANT.—ShouId any article not give satisfaction, it will be d ex changed if desired, or, if preferre d, the money will be returne without hesitation. All goods are marked in plain figures, the lowest price, from which no abatement can be made. The Establishments are closed from sunset on Fridals to sunset on Saturdays, when business is resumed till 12 o'clock. A new Book, " The Epitome of Comfort and Economy," contain ing full lists of prices, our system of self-measurement, &c., &c., nay be had on application. or post-free. A handsome Almanac for the year ending 1854 can be had. gratis on application. l'on perle Francais. Hier wmicht man Dentech. Qui al parla Italian. Aqua se hahla F.fmano OXFORD UNIVERSITY ELECTION. We have every reason to believe that the question as to the choice of a representative for the University of Oxford in the room of Sir Robert Inglis has been finally settled, and that Sir William Heathcote will be elected without opposition. Thus has been fulfilled what was predicted as the inevitable result of the tactics pursued by the leaders of the opposite party in Oxford, and the representation of the University, which might fairly claim that both of its great phases of opinion should be heard in Parliament, has passed entirely into the hands of one, and that one directed by a committee acting on the University from without. This is what has come of fighting a battle with impossible candidates, with incur ables averse to all reform either in Church or State, and with men who were simply set up to be knocked down, and of whom no one has ever heard after they were beaten. The friends of Dr. Travers Twiss, indeed, were desirous of bringing him for ward, and there is little doubt that, had he been dis posed to revive the animosities caused by the late contest, he might have put the supporters of Sir William Heathcote to considerable trouble and expense ; • but, under all the circumstances, in a manner which deserves to be appreciated by the University, he has declined the doubtful honour, and declared that he will not contest the University on the present vacancy. We observe that the organs of the Low Church party weary themselves in finding excuses for accepting Sir William lieathcote ; but, if they ever mean to regain a share in the representation of the University, they must find out or train up a candidate with views more in accordance with the wants of the age than those professed by their candidates of late years, or be prepared to see both seats constantly occupied by their antagonists.—Times. A report has reached us that some ge ex- I t rem e views, who are dissatisfied we with Sir ate brie William R ea theote's Conservative principles, contemplg. ng forward Dr. Trave rs Twigs, of University. Dr. Twiss is, as we stated so me weeks ago, a " Whig and something more," and we would advise members of Con is vocation to make themselves fully acquainted with h views before promising him th eir votes. We sincerely trust the peace of the Unive rsit y may not be Mornin unneces sarily disturbed by a contest so hopeless. —g Seraid. SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON'S INAUGURAL ADDRE,sS. (Prom, the Edinburgh Advertiser.) Sir Edward Bul wer Lytton, Bart., D.C.L., M.P. Honorary President of the Associated Societies of the University, delivered his inaugural address on Wednesday night, in the Queen-street Hall. These Societies the Dialectic, Diagnostic, Scots Law, and Huntarian Medical instituted,for the cultivation of oratory, literature, and science are of long standing, and include among their mem bers many of the most eminent Scotchrnen of the day. As Associated Societies they now for the first time recognise a common president—Sir E. B. Lytton being the first to occupy that distinguished position. The honourable baronet was elected last year by the almost unanimous voice of the society, Mr. Disraeli having, for particular reasons declined the honour, and the Duke of Argyll, who was nominated in opposition to Sir E. B. Lytton, having withdrawn in his favour. The hall, on Wednesday evening, was tastefully de corated with emblems of Scotland's nationality. Over the platform was hung a banner displaying the Scottish Lion, which was also rampant in front of the gallery ; and the rostrom bore the symbol of the Thistle, with the motto, " Nemo me impune lacessit." The hall was crowded to overflowing. The societies had invited the elite of the citizens to be present on the occasion : and certainly we have seldom witnessed in the city of Edinburgh so dis tinguished a gathering of fair ladies and great men. Sir Edward, on entering the hall, was greeted with loud and prolonged cheering, the whole company standing. The honourable baronet was conducted to the platform by the chairman of his election committee and the secretary of the Associated Societies ; and accompanied by the Earl of Kiutore, Lord Robertson, Lord Curriehill, Lord Deas, Sir Archibald Alison, Bart., the Hon. the Lord Advocate, Mr. Stirling, of Keir, M.P., Mr. Cowan, M.P. for the city,the Dean of the Faculty of Advocates, Bishop Terrot, the Rev. Dr. Grant, the Rev. Dr. Guthrie, the Rev. R. W. Fraser, Professors Pillans, Syme, Simpson, Gregory, Menzies, More, Balfour, Bennett, R. Lee, M`Dougall, Blackey, Aytoun, Kelland, and Swinton, Captain Blackwood, Mr. John Blackwood, Mr. Robert Chambers, &c. Among the ladies and gentlemen in the hall, we observed—Lady Anne and Lady Caroline Charteris, Lady Emma Campbell, Lady Camilla Sinclair, Sir Robert and Lady Arbuthnot, Sir W. and Lady Trevelyan, Sir John and Lady M`Neill, Lady Alison and Miss Alison, Sir J. D. Elphinstone, Bart., Sir George Sinclair and the Misses Sinclair, the Rev. Dr. Simpson, the Rev. Dr. Crawford, he. Letters of apology for absence had been received from the Marquis of Lothian, the Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Rutherfurd, Lord Murray, Sir Wm. Hamilton, Bart., Sir David Brewster, Mr. Macaulay, M.P., Colonel Mure of Caldwell, M.P., he- After silence had been restored, The LORD ADVOCATE, who on rising was loudly cheered said—The task which devolves upon me to-night, though a very gratifying, is, lam happy to.say, a very easy one. I have been asked by the gentlemen to whom we owe this meeting, as one of their number, to introduce to you Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton—(cheers)—a most superfluous duty, as I think his name would of itself be a sufficient introduction to the admiration and respect of any audience in the world where the English language is understood (Cheers.) lam quite sure that you, whom his writings have delighted and instructed, need no other ; and, there fore, I would rather assume the duty of saying one sen tence of welcome and of thanks—(cheers) —of welcome — of hearty and honest welcome—of so distinguished a visi tor to our ancient town— (cheers)- of welcome to so great a master of the spell of genius, under whose wand our hearts have beat so often, and whose magic has cheered so many a toil-worn spirit under its load, and thrown its sunny rays over so many an hour of leisure—(cheers) —and of thanks for the prompt and ready response which he has given to the request which was made to him from the body that I represent, and the kind and generous feeling that has urged him, at this season of the year, to take so long a journey to show his interest in the progress of literature and science in the capital of Scotland, in our academical studies, and in those who are most deeply engaged in them. (Loud cheers.) I shall not do more, by way of preface, to delay you from hearing the address which he will deliver to you to-night. I can only say that we return him our heartfelt thanks, and we shall be proud if, as I am sure will be the case, our meeting tends to give a fresh impulse to the ardour of youthful study, and to bind the students of our University in a union still more close than any they have hitherto enjoyed. (Cheers.) Sir EDWARD BULWER LYTTON then came forward, and was greeted with enthusiastic and prolonged applause. He said—Gentlemen, I may well feel overcome by the kind ness with which you receive me, for I cannot disentangle my earliest recollections from my sense of intellectual obli gations to the genius of Scotland. The first poets who charmed me from play in the half-holidays of school were Campbell and Scott—the first historians who clothed, for me, with life, the shadows of the past, were Robertson and I l Hume—the first philosopher, who, by the grace of his attractive style, lured me on to the analysis of the human mind, was Dugald Stewart—and the first novel that I bought with my own money and hid under my pillow, was the "Roderick Random" of Sm ollett. (Applause.) So, when later, in a long vacation from my studies at Cambridge, I learned the love for active adventure, and contracted the habit of self-reliance by solitary excursions on foot, my staff in my hand and my k n ap sack on my shoulders, it was towards Scotland that I instinc tivel y bent my way, as if to the nursery-ground from which had been wafted to my mind the first germs of those fertile and fair ideas, which, after they have come to flower upon their native soil, re turn to seed, and are carried by the winds, we know not whither, calling up endless diversi ties of the same plant, according to the climate and the ground to which they are borne by chance. (Applause.) Gentlemen, this day I visited, with Professor Aytoun, the spot on which, a mere lad, obscure, and alone, I remember to have stood one starlight night in the streets of Edinburgh, gazing across what was then a deep ravine, upon the picturesque out lines of the Old Town, all the associations which make Scotland so dear to romance, and su sacred to learning, rushing over me with tumultuous pleasure ; her stormy history, her enchanting legends—wild tales of witchcraft and fairyland—of headlong chivalry and tragic love—all contrasting, yet all uniting, with the renown of schools famous for patient erudition and tranquil science. I re member how I then wished that I could have found some tie in parentage or blood to connect me with the great people in whose capital I stood a stranger. (Applause.) That tie which birth denied to me, my humble labours, and your generous kindness, have at last bestowed ; and the stranger in your streets stands to-day in this crowded hall, proud to identify his own career with the hopes and aspirations of the youth of Scotland. (Great applause.) Gentlemen—when I turn to what the analogous custom of other Universities renders my duty upon this occasion, and offer some suggestions that may serve as hints in your various studies, I feel literally over shadowed by the awe of the great names, all your own, which rise high around me in every department of human progress. It is not only the illustrious dead before whom I have to bow—your wonted fir, s do not live only in their ashes. The men of to-day are worthy the men of yesterday. (Applause.) A thousand rays of intellectual light are gathered and fused together in the varied learning of your distinguished Principal. (Applause.) The chivalry of your glorious annals finds its new Tyrtaaus in the vigorous and rushing verse of Professor Aytoun. (Loud cheers.) Your medical schools, in all their b r anches —pathology , medical jurisprudence, surgery, anatomy, chemistry — advance more and more to fresh honours under the presid ing names of Simpson—(loud applause)—Alison —(ap plause) Christison (applause) —Goodsir —(applause)— Traill—(applause)—Syme—(applause) —and Gregory. (Ap plause. The general cause of education itself is identified with the wide repute of Professor Pillans. (Applause.) Nature has added the name of Forbes to the list of those who have not only examined her laws but discovered her secrets—(loud cheers)—while the comprehensive science of Sir William Hamilton—(applaus e) —still corrects and ex tends the sublime chart that defines the immaterial uni verse of ideas. And how can 11 forget the name of one man whose character and works must have produced the most healthful influence over the youth of Scotland—com bining, as they do, in the rarest union, all that is tender and graceful with all that is hardy and masculine—the exquisite poet, the vigorous critic;, the eloquent discourser, the joyous comrade—the minst. Tel of the Isle of Palms— the Christopher North of Maga ? (Loud and prolonged cheering.) How I wish that the plaudits with which you receive this inadeq ,- ,ate referens , ce to one so loved and honoured might be carried to his' ears, and assure him that like those statues of the great Boman fathers in the well known passage of Tacitus,—if hel be absent from the pro cession he is still more remena bored by the assembly. (Loud cheering.) And since I see around me many who, though not connected - with your college, are yet interested in the learned fame of your capital, per mit me on this neutral ground to suspend all differences of party, and do homage to the great orator and author, whose luminous genius, whose sc ,7aolastic attainments, those independence of spirit, whose in tegrity of life so worthily represent not only the capital, but the character of the people who claim their country' nan by descent in Macau lay. (Great applause.) 'When I think of those names, and of many more which I migh:t cite, if time would allow me to make the catalogue of your living title-deeds to fame, I might well shrink from the task before me ; but a every man assists to a general i tllurnigatiou by placing a single light at his own window, so, perhaps, my individual experience may contribute its humble ray to the atmos phere which genius and learning: have kindled into familiar splendour. (Cheers.) Gentlem on, I shall first offer some remarks upon those fundame: atal requisites which, no matter what be our peculiar fldies, are essential to ex- cellence in all of them. Nature indicates to the infant the two main elements of wisdom ; nature herself teaches the infant to observe and to inquire. You will have noticed how every new object catches the eye of a young child — how intuitively he begins to question you upon all that he surveys—what it is? what is it for? how it came there ? how is it made ? who made it ? Gradually, as he becomes older, his observation is less v;gilant, his curiosity less eager. In fact, both faculties are often troublesome and puzzling to those about him. He is told to attend to his lessons, and not ask questions to which he cannot yet understand the replies. Thus, his rk.stless vivacity is drilled into mechanical forms, so that often when we leave school we observe less and inquire less than when we stood at the knees of our mother in the nursery. But our first ob ject on entering upon youth, and surveying the great world that spreads before us, should be to regain the earliest at tributes of the child. What were the instincts of the in fant are the primary duties of the student. His ideas be -1 come i uea n trt v p itn r th o hgi p se t o h r i e t sl i a o fwa n t Ihslaeso of the h. d i aapurvpiyirlteeys, and no NTdevehissl so e sl rich and various in proportion as he observes— accurateb gr old resivrtionr arriving, a o n bfy t y l No u p e r w a at c lo t l ni. inquiry, c o a o in every department of intelligence. A man observes more attentively than others had done something in itself very simple. He reflects, tests his ob servation by inquiry, and becomes the discoverer, the inventor ; enriches a science, improves a manu facture, adds a new beauty t o the arts, or if engaged in professional active life, detects, as a physician, the secret cause of disease—extracts truth, as a lawyer, from contradictory evidence—or grapplet, as a statesman, with the complicated principles by which nations flourish or de cay. In short, take with you' into all your studies this leading proposition, that, whether in active life or in let ters be eminent according to the and with man thwhiwcliill w h a e l ob a serves, and the acuteness vigilance r sear c h w , not enough—some ioslute effort of the will t w h i i t n h g whichmore ish o w i a n n y e i d r — e s i ßut sth a this e s which we call perseverance. lam no believer in genius without labour; but I do believe that labour, judiciously and continuously applied, becomes genius in itself. Success in removing obstacles, as in conquering armies, depends on this law of mechanics—the greatest amount of force at your command concentrated on a given point. If your constitutional force be less than another man's, you equal him if you continue it longer and concentrate it more. The old saying of the Spartan parent to the son who complained that his sword was too short, is applicable to everything in life—" If your weapon is too short, add a step to it." Dr. Arnold, the famous Rugby schoolmaster, said the dif ference between one boy and another was not so much in talent as in energy. It is with boys as with men ; and per severance is energy made habitual. But I forget that lam talking to Scotchmen ; no n eed to preach energy and per severance to them. Those are the national characteris tics. (A laugh.) Is there a soil upon earth from which the Scotchmen cannot wring some harvest for fortune ; or one field of honourable contest on which he has not left so me trophy of renown? (Cheers.) e must now talk a little upon books. Gentlemen, the objects and utiliti es o f reading are so various, that to suggest any formal rules whereby to dictate its subjects and confine its scope, would be to resemble the man in a Greek anecdote, who, in order to improve his honey, cut off the wings of his bees, and placed before them the flowers his own sense found the sw eetest. No doubt, the flowers were the best he could find on Hytnettus, but, somehow or other, when the bees had whi lost h theire ordinary wingsinducement they m ade no honey at all. Still, to reading is towards costs us genera l delight and gener al instruction, it is well in youth to acquire the habit of reading with conscien of the mind n the effort ; w ith a definite object fixes a l t a a i and d u o s u wr t h e ba i l rt es ve f e o e sr r a we let s h p e e studyc sinewsia l pur pose. Whatever i much more tenacious hold on the memory than do the lessons of mere desultory reading. If, for instance, you read the history of the latter half of the last century, sim ply because some works on the subject are thrown iwryr way ; unless your memory be unusually good, yon ll re tain but a vague recollectio n, that rather serves to dimi nish ignorance than bestbvs knowledge. But suppose, in a debating society, that the subject of debate be the cha racter of Charles Fox, or the administration of Mr. Pitt, and some young man gets up the facts of the time for the special purpose of making an ample and elaborate speech on the principles and career of either of those statesmen, the definite purpose for which he reads, and the animated object to which it is to be applied, will, in all probability, fix what he reads indelibly in his mind ; and to the dry materials of knowledge will be added the virida vie of argument and reasoning. You see now, then, how wisely the first founders of learning established institutions for youth on the collegiate principle ; fixing the vague desire for knowledge into distinct bounds, by lectures on chosen subjects, and placing before the ambition of the student the practical object of honourable distinction—a distinc tion, indeed, that connects itself with our gentlest affec tions, and our most lasting interests ; for honouis gained in youth pay back to our parents, while they are yet living, some part of what we owe to their anxiety and care. And whatever renown a university can confer abridges the road to subsequent success, interests our contemporaries in our career, and raises up a crowd eager to cheer on our first matures efforts to make a name. The friendships we form at College die away as life divides us, but the honours we gain there remain and constitute a portion of ourselves. Who, for instance, can separate the fame of a Brougham or a Mackintosh from the reputation they established at the University of Edinburgh ? (Loud cheers.) The variety of knowledge embraced in the four divisions, which are here called faculties, allows to every one an ample choice, according to the bias of each several mind, or the profes sion for which the student is destined. But there is one twofold branch of humane letters in which the universities of Scotland are so renowned that I must refer to it speci ally, though the reference must bo brief. I mean moral and metaphysical philosophy, which, in Edinburgh espe cially, has been allied to the Graces by the silver style of Dugald Stewart and taken the loveliness which Plato art e in ts o h owf pe which Jurisprudence, y h f body,r from the negle c t o f th e b o dy iu the overwork ya scribes to virtue from the beautiful intellect of Browne. Now, it would be idle to ask the general student to m ake himself a profound metaphysician. You mi g ht as well ask him to make himself a great poet. B oth the one an d the other are born for their calling ; not made by our a dvice, but their own irresistible impulse. But a liberal view of the principal theories as to the for mation of the human mind , and the latent motives of huma n conduct, is of essential service to all about to enter u p on bus y practi cal life. S uch studie s quicken our p erce p tions of error an d virtue, enlarge our general knowledge of manki nd, and ena bl e our later experience to apply with order and meth od the facts it accumulates. I need not remind those who boast the great name of Chalmers — (cheers) — o r who heard lecturesiiosPtfohruielycol aeuille your so ' famous, and which, in order to t Princip a l t wo years ago, that Moral Philosophy handmaid of. Divinity. She is also the sister and the presiding genius of that must oft en prescr ib e a lt era tives to the mind—more especially in th ese d a y s , w hen half our dis eases healh ocome of the brain. In this railway age the wear and tear of labour and intellect go un without pause or self-pity. We live longer than our forefath ers , b u t we s uffer more from a thousand artificial anxieties are cares. They fatigued only the muscles; we exhaust the finer strength of the nerves ; and when we send impatiently to the doctor, it is ten to one but what he finds the acute complaint, which is all that we perceive, connected with some chronic men tal irritation, or some unwholesome inveteracy of habit. Here, then, the physician , mind acts upon bo d y , will exercise with discre tion the s kill that moral philosophy accus t o med to consider how has taught him. Every one knows the difference between two medical attendants, perhaps equally learned in pharm ac y and the routine of the schools ; th e one writes in haste the prescription we may as well " threw to the dogs ;" the other, by his sooth ing admonitions, his agreeable converse, cheers up the gloomy spirits, regulates the def ec ti ve habits, and often, unconsciously to ourselves, " ministers to the mind dis eased, and plucks from the memory a rooted sorrow." (Ap plause.) And the difference between them is, that one has studied our moral anatomy, and the other has only looked on us as mere machines of matter, to b e i ns p e cted by a peep at the tongue , an d regulated by a touch of the pulse. And in order to prove my sense and to pay a joint of the connection between moral and metaphysical philosophy and practical pa thology, compliment to the two sciences for which your College is so pre-eminent, I here, as a personal favour to myself, crave permission of the heads and authorities of the University to offer the which ma prize of a gold m edal, for the current y ear, for the best essay by any student on some special subject implying the connection Ispeak professors e o f e y be selected in concert with the various ssor o f your medical schools and the professors of metaphysics and moral philosophy. (Loud applause.) Gentlemen —Allow me to preface the topic to which I now turn by congratulating you on the acquisition your schohrship has recently made in the accomplished translator of _rEchylus, Professor Blackie—(applause)—who appears to have thrown so much light on the ancient lan guage of the Greeks by showing its substantial identity with the modern. (Applause.) I now proceed to impress on you the importance of classical studies. I shall endea vour to avoid the set phrases of declamatory panegyric which the subject too commonly provokes But if those studies appear to you cold and tedious, the fault is in the languor with which they are approached. Do you think that the statue of ancient art is but a lifeless marble ? lives and el it twith your own young breath, and instantly it glows. Greek literature, if it served you with nothing else, should excite your curiosity as the picture of a wondrous state of civilisation which, in its peculiar phases, the world can never see again, and yet from which every succeeding state of civilisation has borrowed its liveliest touches. If you take it first as a mere record of events—if you examine only the contest between the Spar tans and the Athenians—the one as the representative of duration and order, the other of change and progress both pushed to the extreme- . —there instantly rise before you, in the noblest forms—through the grandest illustrations_ of history —through the collision of characters at once human and heroic—there instantly, I say, rise before you lessons which may instruct every age, and which may especially guide the present. For so closely does Grecian history bear on the more prominent disputes in our own day, that it is not only full of wise saws, but still more of modern instances. I pass by this view of the political cal ue of Grecian literature, on which I could not well en large without, perhaps, provoking party differences, to offer some remarks, purely critical, and for which I bespeak your indulgence it I draw too largely on your time. Every professor who encourages the young to the study of the classics, will tell them how those ancient masterpieces have served modern Europe with models to guide the taste and excite the emulation. But here let us distinguish what we should mean when we speak of them as models—we mean no check to originality—no cold and sterile imitation, more especially of form and diction. The pith and substance of a good English style—be it simple and severe, be it copious and adorned—must still be found in the nervous strength of our native tongue. (Applause.) We need not borrow from Greek or Roman the art that renders a noble thought transparent to the humblest under standing, or charms the fastidious ear with the varying music of elaborate cadence. The classic authors are models in a more comprehensive sense. They teach us less how to handle words than how to view things ; and first, let us recognise the main characteristic of the literature of Greece. The genius of Greek letters is essentially social and hu mane. Far from presenting us with a frigid and austere ideal, it deals with the most vivid passions, the largest interests common to the mass of mankind. In this sense of the word it is practical—that is, it connects itself with the natural feelings, the practical life of men under all forms of civilisation. That is the reason why it is so dur able—it fastens hold of sympathy and interest in !every nation and every age. Thus Homer is immeasurably the most important poet the world ever knew. The Iliad is constructed from materials with which the natural human heart has the most affinity. Our social instincts interest us on both sides, whether in the war of the Greeks' aven ging the desecration of the marriage hearth, or the doom of the Trojans, which takes all its pathos from the moment we see Hector parting from Andromache, and unbinding his helmet that it may not terrify his child. Homer makes no attempt at abstract subtle feelings with which few ca sympathise. He takes terror and pity from the most po pular springs of emotion—valour, love, patriotism, domes tic affections— the struggle of Man with fate—the contrast, as :in Achilles, between glorious youth and early death— between headlong daring and passionate sorrow ; the con trast, as in Priam, between all that gives reverence to the king and all that moves compassion for the man. Homer knows no conventional dignity; his heroes weep— his goddesses scold—(a laugh)—Hector himself knows fear, and we do not respect him the less, though we love him more, when his heart sinks and his feet fly before Achilles. So essentially 'rumen is Homer, that it is said that he first created the Greek gods—that is, he clothed what before were vague phantoms with attributes familiar to humanity, and gave them the power of divinities, with the forms and hearts of men. (Applause.) Civilisaion advances, but the Greek literature still preserves this spe cial character of humanity, and each succeeding critic still incorporates his genius with the actual existence and warm emotions of the crowd. 2Eschylus strides forth from the field of Marathon, to give voice to the grand practical ideas that influenced his land and times. He represents the apotheosis of freedom, and the dawn of p' dlosophy through the mists of fable. Thus, in the victory hymn of the " The Persm," he chaunts the defeat of Xerxes ; thus, in the " Seven before Thebes," he addresses'an audi ence still hot from the memories of war, in words that rekindle its passions and re-echo its clang ; thus again, in the wondrous myth of the "Prometheus Bound," he piles up the fragments of primeval legend with a Titan's hand, storming the very throne of Zeus with assertions of the liberty of intellectual force, as opposed to the authority of force. In Aschylus, there is always the very form and pressure of an age characterised by fierce emotions, and the tumult of new ideas struggling for definite expression. (Applause.) Sophocles no less commands an everlasting audience by genial sympathy with the minds that thought, and the hearts that beat, in his own day. The stormy revolution of thought that succeeded the Persian war had given way to a milder, but no less manly, period of serene intelligence. The time had cone in which what we call " The Beautiful" developed its ripe proportions. A senti ment of order, of submission to the gods—a desire to em bellish the social existence secured by victorious war— pervaded the manners and inspired the gentle emulation. All this is reflected in the calm splendour of Sophocles- It seems a typo of the difference between the two that Eschylus—a bearded man—had fought at Marathon, and Sophocles—in the bloom of youth—had tuned his harp to the pecans that circled round the trophies of Salamis. The Prometheus of hschylus is a vindication of human wisdom, made with the sublime arrogance of a Titau'a pride. The CEdipus of Sophocles teaches its nothing ness to Wisdom, and inflicts its blind punishment upon Pride. But observe how both these great poets inculcate the sentiment of Mercy as an element of tragic grandeur, and how they both seek to connect that attri bute of humanity with the frame of their native laud. Thus it is to Athens that the Orestes of Eschylus comes to expiate his parricide—it is the tutelary goddess of the Athenians that pleads in his cause, and reconciles the Furies to the release of their hunted victim. But still more impressively does Sophocles inculcate and adorn this lesson of beautiful humanity. It is not only amidst the very grove of the Furies that CEdipus finds the peace ful goal of his wanderings—but round that grove itself the poet has lavished all the loveliest images of his fancy. There, in the awful ground of the ghastly sisters, the Nightingales sing under the ivy—there blooms the N ar cissus—there smiles the olive—there spring the fountains that fed Cephisus. Thus terror itself ho surrounds with beauty, and the nameless grace of the outlawed tEdipus becomes the guardian of the benignant state, which gave the last refuge to his woes. (Ap plause.) A few years more and a new phase of civilisation developes itself in Athens. To that sentiment for the beautiful which in itself discovers the good, succeeds the desire to moralise and speculate. The influence of women on social life is more a dmitted—statesmen and sages gather round Aspasia—love occupies a larger space in the thoughts of men, and pity is derived from gentler, perhaps from more effeminate, sources. This change Euripedes- no less practical than his predecessors in repre senting the popular temper of his age—this change, I say, Euripedes comes to depict in sententious aphorisms, in scholastic casuistry, accompanied, however, with the ten derest pathos, and enlisting that interest for which he is ridiculed by Aristophanes—the interest derived from con jugal relations and household life—the domestic interest — it is this which has made him of all the Greek dramatists the most directly influential in the modern stage. And it is Euripedes who has suggested to the classic tragedy of Italy and France two-thirds of whatever it possesses of genuine tenderness and passion. In a word the Greek drama is not that marble perfection of artistic symmetry which it has too often been represented to be, but a flesh and blood creation,identifying itself with the emotions most prevalent in the multitudes it addressed, and artificial rather by con ventions derived from its religious origin than by any very deep study of other principles of art than those which sym pathy with human nature teaches instinctively to the poet. The rules prescribed to the Greek dramatist, such as the unities, were indeed few, and elementary, belonging I rather to the commencement of art than to its full dove lopment. There are few critics now-a-days, for instance, who will not recognise a higher degree of art in Shakspeare, when he transports his willing audience over space and time, and concentrates in Macbeth the whole career of guilty ambition, from its first dire temptation to its troubled rise and its bloody doom, than there can be in any formal rule which would have sacrified for dry recital the vivacity of action, and crowded into a day what Shak speare expands throughout a life. In fine, then, these Greek poets became our models —not as authorities for pe dantic laws, not to chill our invention by unsubstantial ideals or attempts to restore to life the mere mummies of antiquity—but rather, on the contrary, to instruct us that the writer who most faithfully represents the highest and fairest attributes of his own age has the best chance of an audience in posterity ; and that whatever care we take as to the grace or sublimity of diction, still the diction itself can only be the instrument by which the true poet would refine or exalt what ?—why, the feelings most common to the greatest number of mankind. (Applause.) We have heard too much about the calm and repose of classic art. It is the distance from which we take our survey that does not allow us to distinguish its force and its passion. Thus the rivulet, when near, seems more disturbed than the ocean beheld afar off. At the distance of two thousand years, if we do not see all the play of the waves, it is Teo same wo do not stand on the beach. (Applause.) The sa me practical identification with th e intellectual attri butes of their age which distinguish ed the poetry, no less a nimates the prose of the ancient G reeks. The narratives of Herodotus, so simple yet 80 g lowin g , were read to immense multitudes—now exciting their wonder by tale and legend - —now gratifying their curiosity by accounts of barbarian customs—now inflaming their patriotism by minute details of the Persian myriads that exhausted rivers on their march, and graphic anecdotes of the Grecian men, whom the Medes at Marathon saw rushing into the midst of their spears, or whom the scout of Xerxes found dressing their hair for the festival of battle in the glorious pass of Thermopylae. No less does the graver mind of Thucy- ,~~ Now ready at all the Libraries, in 3 vols. ALICE WENTWORTH, A NOVEL. 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