The Sun. — London, England, 1844-10-05 00:00:00

170 2,020 1,309 647 1,333 691 2,585 4,429 1,06 96i 8,496 2,169 17,890 5,100 19,756 1,035 8,933 538 836 7,015 935 3,903 6,239 11,958 1,214 1,747 443 1,715 5,974 6,841 792 7,136 908 380 3,604 ;Jos T. — On IV - 4" . we gaVe, irdine. itß*: from }if s hour' .nd was foug 4 'he, little fego alk back Food, and wi t " : The report everal hutos, ll )rter at 13°; seertain willingly to here. No 114 t: ttie fellow, b ut question beW d how be . .0 .. rery much G us ' she ',eh at the !d of. iAM Gito l4l : at St. Georg' ly of en, Middlese x " r Tuesday, t he walking alorA, How, when 'I of the por and much I V Vit uess end° , ailed a polle er , Ed " he fount). th e middle of tbS deceased 14 , aerBmtth th*r tide for tbits, and /i& 'here was 01 5 I, that he 13 5 it that he 11 ,7; g to give •surgeon, 'acture of t h Accident rs rulAr, V! loon an ge e ''' . r natur e b C COMPa li i y , ed in reni9 lo western f ir. 'ging to rp on an P, a reeklessi an d anin 3s vhich netar l l cart fell illy' en, but 1 0 7 ;C s. One .) a t Work 11 f the horse r, and with le oonditial !lapsed. titref =earls 0 CUST . ; )PIP re states' Tuesday' , c s; I if he j ? 4, n othlob )cket-b001‘• the rer?' n ', y his title. .The bride paree° xrdortabli aIGENCE. JAY.) ?ID:;Y. added, for t h r ee-yrs . 9st 21b-6 yrs an d ings allowed 3 lbs. ,wice, 7 lbs ; thrice, a dis. ..(Copeland) 1 I 2 2 3 3 's 4 4 5 dr d to a Handicap of leclared, the second a quarter. (Dodgson) 1 5 7e not placed - : Hampton, 5 yam' leton's Teresa, 3 Y__," mt of Fenella, 5 d to a Sweepstake s vo miles. Bradley) 2 1 , 4 yrs 1 2 3 2 . i t ON TUESDA: agst Souvenir fill 1 agst Glossy agst The Brewer , it Rowena, 16 to / to 1 agat WOO , 20 to 1 agst MO . agst Haitoe. mSDAY. _ _ Lied to a liandicaP if declared ; th e es. \Vic teringh am) ; o be sold for 150 4 half. ...(Lye) 1 4 I 2 1 5 3 3 2 4 4 2 d 5 dr 150 added. 00 —walked over• -FRIDAY. added. Heath nce. Owner) 2 1 / 1 2 sous., given by th e °lintY, added to 5 only if declare' (Riley) ; 30 added. Hot s ' ace. 7rs ...walked over' leats, two miles. pitman) 2 1 I •s 3 a Sweepstakes of I a distance, Yi ° Jamie Falsbalr ity, Impetus, an ENTS. ;rove ; ThursJAP hounds, Waif. Well, 104-- 10 Elan, 11 ; Pridsfr Thursday, Oxtell —Devon and S °- -Brushford bar" Hy son ConoO ti near Winsford. ; Friday, Bud' The PP°. 'RE. resented the chit', ssinger's play r, )rformance of th' e, and wa s Dor° Cation of ifitaal4 'en the avariciotto evidently in 0 0 : L eIAY is requir., 6 ' Eaton of Sir Glr, and through ,' with entbusial; Justice Gree, Played by P' ItNS. f 0 1 ' tat R,, ce ipts 0 t o A ditt• to 'W receipts of the Last Week. SUMMARY OF NEWS A.t4 Vubltt Optuton. " Who runs may read." rov,Exax. " The King of the French," says the Revue de Paris, " who l e f t S t. Cloud on Thursday for Eu, was to embark at Treport for England on Sunday, if the weather per mitted, for the violent winds which have prevailed of late in the Channel, might derange that pl a n. Steam e r s , sta tioned betw een Treport and Portsmouth, are to inform the authorities of the approach of his Majesty, who will arrive at Windsor on Monday. The King in Council had conferred, by an ordinance, the powers of Lieu tenant-General of the Kingdom on the Duke de Nemours during his absenee. The Duke is to exercise those func tions only in case of some extraordinary circumstances." A. letter from Cherbourg of the 29th says:—" The squadron which is to escort the King to Portsmouth has received orders to hold itself in readiness. A detach ment of forty four marine artillery has been embarked on board the Gomer, twenty grenadiers of marine in• ! entry on b oar d the Caiman, and twenty voltigeurs of the same force on board the Elan. The Phoque steamer has arrived from Brest with a band of musicians. The King has conferred the Cross of Grand Officer of the Legion of Honour on M. Beautemps Beaupre, as a mark of satisfaction at the plans and charts of the coast !Pi . Prance got up by that engineer, during an assiduous labour of twenty-eight years' duration. The Minister of Public Works has returned to Paris from his visit of inspection of the railroads. The Sleds and Revue de Paris declare that Marshal B agerud has d ec l ared himself greatly dissatisfied with e terms upon which peace has been concluded with Morocco, and that the same feeling is prevalent through out the army. bThe Presse announces that the ratification by the Peror of M orocco of the treaty of peace concluded in name by Sidi-bou•Sellam with the French Commis- In a hr ) ti n ers arriv e d at P ar i s on T ues d ay l ast, an d w ill y appear in the Moniteur. xhe A ug urq Gazette states from Suez, August 29, ttbna,teall the tribes of the portion of the coast of Arabia voi a te r Osm an Pacha, the Turkish Governor, have re -4 0 cl against the Porte. A force of between 3,000 and te,coo has been sent against them, but at the date of this T he very little good had been effected. The marriage of the Duke d'Aumale with a Neapoli tan Princess is definitively concluded. he provin c i a l j ournal gives the following, under the rad of " A new B ru t us :"—" The Commissary of Police Sens has just set an example of Roman severity. A fev days ago, on ret urn i ng h ome , h e caug h t hi s w if e in ringing the police regulations, by throwing a glass of water out of the window. He immediately drew up a report, and had his wife summoned to the bar of the Tri bunal of Simple Police, where she was fined lf. and the .costs !" The following proclamation, says a letter from Oran, was addressed by Muley Mohammed to the Arabs and ICabyles the day before the battle of Isly. After having reproached his regular and irregular troops with their want of f ervour in the war of religion, he says :—" Look at the Christians (whom God confound !), they sleep all tethnetsy,eaanrdonthtehye hard ground, scarcely sheltered by bad watch night and day, dreading neither beat nor cold. They drink bad water, and have scarcely any food but what they get with great difficulty from Oran ; and yet they are not fighting like you for reli gion ; they are not sustained by the hope of the celestial rewards which are reserved for only true Mussulmans." LAW AND POLXCB. .Mr. Barr, a decorative painter, recovered a verdict in the .Palace Court for 231. 4s. 6d., against Mr. Webster, the Wilder of Christ Church, St. Pancras. The money was alleged to be due for decorating the ceiling of the church. The defendant pleaded that the work was im properly done, and the ceiling was patchy. On the trial it appeared that after the completion of the ceil ing, the defendant had placed braziers of ignited coke in the church, and that on finding that they had spoiled the ceiling, he directed them to be removed, and nothing to be said about the m:tter. In the Insolvent's Court, Mr. Commissioner Pollock issued a warrant for the committal of James Sydney, late assignee of the estate of John Anthony Pheasant, for contempt, in not paying over a sum of money found to be due from him as assignee. After several assault cases had been disposed of at Guildhall, James Hurstlan, who has been before ex amined, was again placed at the bar, charged with ob• taining goods under false pretences. Another case, in ‘which he had obtained goods by a forged order, was proved against him, and he was again- remanded ; various other charges will be made against him. Jane Smith and Susannah Page, were charged by Mr. Barnett, master of the Clerkenwell workhouse, with breaking two panes of glass in the windows of that esta blishment. On the previous night, between nine and ten o'clock, the rrisoners attempted forcibly to enter the workhouse, but were resisted by the .porter, when they commenced pelting oyster shells at the /windows. The a Inagistrate committed :hem, and the prisoners said they 4 1 broken the windows fo: the purpose of being sent to prison. , th Harris, and William Lear, At Queen. square, George BoddinZton, Martha Garrett, Edward Collier, Eliza!), Elias Smith, the six persons charged about ive weekswhich rivio uweiltohneteuring a large quantity of furniture 4 ,_ magistrate cident by se • ged to a man named Dark, who met his dea,.r , fel in y, on Mr. Humphreys, in the country, again appeared before the who coed t and were discharged, . ucted the prosecution, stating that he did not a condition togo on any further with the case. ueseph Pomeroy was fined, at Marlborough-street, 4 05., for cruelty to a horse. A young man, of very resp David R oach, described as an Excise p officer, wa arance, s placed ectable ape named at the bar before Mr. Broughton, charged with disor derly conduct, and resisting a policeman in the execu tion of his duty. The defendant called three respect able witnesses, whe testified that the policeman in the first instance attacked the defendant, who happened to sneeze as he was oli ceman construed the street, which sneeze the p into t appeared t h at the an insult on official dignity. Iceman was in close conversation "with a woman at thepolicorner of the street when the sneez iNfr. Bngtoorou p gh k lace ton said . The poli ceman denied these statements. that it w as of the deepest inte ould rest to the public that t h e evidence of police-constables -sh be beyond suspicion, and as it was p er f ec tly zia -nifest in thi s case, that the most had bee n committed gross and wilful perjury on one side or the other, he should -clerk's notes - requir e a ll the witnesses to attach th e i r s i gna t ures t o th e ee edb a of their evide nce, preparatory to other pro gs. It was not for him to decide which party had tipo.ken the truth, b ut the weight of evidence being in farevr of the defendant, he s h ou ld dismiss the case. The rnagi st r a t e then directed Mr. Hurlstone, the clerk, to Make a special memorandum on the charge-sheet, stating the grounds of its dismissal for the information of the Corninissiooers- William Stanley was fully committed from Lambeth street for picking pockets. Mr. Cottin.T.liaru committed a man named George "Wodehouse, for fourteen days, from Union-hall, for biting off the tail of a cat. miAt Wandsworth Richard Bunbury, horsekeeper, and mes Gillard, co a l- porter, both in the employment of Norton, of Belmont Wharf, Nine Elms, were ttharged with stealing a bushel and a half of mixed corn ao! chaff, and John Groves, who obtains his living by jobbing with a horse and cart, was charged with re allceiving, the same, knowing it to be stolen. They were fully committed. 00$211-ASRIONASIAL The Duchess of Gloucester left Kew yesterday for Woburn Abbe`y, on a visit to the Duke and Duchess of -B nd edford. Her Royal Hi g h ness travelled via the London taßirmingham Railway. The Duchess of Beaufort has left Beaufort House to join :he circle visiting the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, at Woburn Abbey. Tie Duke and Duchess of Leinster and Lady - Jane Eitzgerald, the Earl and Countess of Jersey and Lady Clementine Villiers, the Dowager Lady Holland, & c ., are among the guests assembled at the Abbey. Sir Robert Peel has left town for Brighton. The Right Hon. Baronet returns at the beginning of next week, and proceeds to Windsor Castle, on a visit to her Atajesty. Miss Peel arrived in Whitehall-gardens from brayton Manor on Thursday, and next day left to join Lady Peel at Brighton. Lo The iliarchioness of Hastings and family have returned Donnii;.7ton Park, Leicestershire. The Marquis and Marchioness of Westminster have arrived in town from Moor Park, Herts. The Noble Marquis has beet honoured by her Majesty with an in vitation to Windsor Castle, during the visit of the King of the French to this country. His Lordship leaves Grosvenor street on Wednesday next, in order to be pre sent at the investiture of that Monarch with the Most -Noble Order of the Garter. The Lord Chamberlain (Earl Delawarr) returned to tto,:khurst Park on Thursday, after attending the dis embarkation of her Majesty and Prince Albert from the Royal 4 vacht, at Woolwich Dockyard. The Earl and Countess of Grosvenor are at present :staying at Motc om b e. Lord and Lady Robert Gros venor are still: at Paris. The Earl and Countess of liinnoul and family are at present sojourning at Brighton. The Noble Earl and Countess proceed to Paris i n th e course of the ensuing week. from S ummerhill, county Earl a n d Countess F',lrtescue have arri ve d a t D u bli n , ;ysterford, and after staying a short time in that city, to vis i t the Countess's relatives, -they depart for Castlehill, Devon. Earl and Countess Bruce arrived at Savanake Lod g e, nee.,- Ma r lb orough, early in the week frjm the ancient famil,v se a t, J ervrux Abbey, Yorkshire. The Hon. Sydney Herbert, M.P., arrived on a visit to the .1. 7 2.7r 1 and Countess on Thursday, from the Admiralty. The Earl of Cardigan purposes to receive a numerous and distinguished party at Deene Park, Northampton shire, in the course of next week. The Countess has gone to Paris to meet her sisters, who are expected in that capital from Switzerland. The Earl of Devon and the Landlord and Tenant Com mission have returned to Dublin Castle from their official tour. They are expected to visit Waterford on the 9th .The Earl of Shaftesbury remains in town until the en suing we e k, w h en the Noble Earl will repair to St. Giles's, Dorset, :o r the autumn. Lord and Lady Ashley are at Present vis i t ing Lord and Lady Francis Egerton, at Worai ey nab, Lancashire, but intend to meet the Noble Earl at St. Giles's towards the close of next week, when their youthf u l f at al; remove from Ryde. The Earl of PenaLroio has returned from Paris, after visiting his intimate friend Prince Polignac. Ills Excellency the Countand the Countess St. Aulaire, accompanied by Count Louis de Noailles, arrived at the French Embassy at a late hour on Thursday night, after a boisterous passage across the Channel. His Excellency travelled to town from Folkestone by the South-Eastern Railway. The Count will leave town early on Monday for Portsmouth, to be in readiness to receive the King of the French on his arrival at that port. - The Duke and Duchess of Montrose are entertaining a small party at Sulby Hall, Northamptonshire. The Noble Duke intend to remain at the above seat during the hunting season, and entertain in a princely manner the noblemen and gentlemen who hunt in that neighbour hood: The Marquis and Marchioness of Waterford left Mivart's Hotel, on Thursday- last, for Curraghmore, county Waterford, Ireland. The Noble Marquis has not taken the Earl of Cardigan's mansion at Dublin, as erro neously stated. Countess Flahault (Baroness Keith and Nairne) and. the Hon. Misses Elphinstone Flahault returned to Mi vart's Hotel, yesterday, from Richmond, where the Countess and family have been residing for the benefit of the Hon. Miss Flahault's health, which we are happy to hear has improved. THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 5, 1844. CAB STANDS AND THE POLICE. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SlR,—Believing your paper to be the uncompro mising enemy of tyranny of every shape, I have taken the liberty of craving a little of your space, in bringing before the notice of the public an organised system of persecution practised by the police on a body of public servants—l mean, cab drivers. I think I may venture to state, that although they are not the most spotless or untainted class of public men, they are at least 30 per cent. better than they were a few years ago ; and, to my knowledge, they contain among their body men equally respectable to the gene rality of their persecutors. It appears that the increase in the number of cabs have of late years greatly ex ceeded the demand for them, or the means of accom modating them with standing room in the streets ; the consequence is, that the principal thoroughfares become obstructed, the drivers not knowing where to go. The detective force not having anything else on their hands, have commenced the issuing of sum monses in a wholesale manner, to the extent, I am credibly informed, of 40 per day, to the stand in Pic cadilly, and at every other place in a similar manner. Thus, at this period of the year, when the poor fellows have the greatest difficulty in providing a crust for their families, they are adjudged to pay fines from seven shillings to one pound in amount, the re currence of which they are liable to every day. Now I respectfully ask 'you, Mr. Editor, if it is not foreign to the principles of the British Constitution to punish people for that which they cannot possibly avoid ? I will not weary you by going into statistical details, as it is a well-known fact that there are generally seven hundred or eight hundred cabs in want of standing room, the driver of every one being at the mercy of a policeman, or any other time-serv ing public officer, " dressed in a little brief authority," who wishes to make a parade of his vigilance. What is the result? The driver not being able to pay the fine, on account of the competition and scarcity of work, i 3 sent off to prison, and on coming out gives way to despair and dissipation, loses all self-respect, and at last becomes an incorrigible vagabond. The cab proprietors having to pay a heavy duty, expect a certain sum of money per day from their men, who are also taxed for the privilege of being allowed to exercise their calling ; then is it not tyrannous, after giving a tacit allowance to the fraternity to work their vehicles to the best advantage, to with draw all protection ? What is the remedy for this state of things ? either to extend the length and number of the stands, or limit the number of cabs to suit the capabilities of the stands, for at present they are an injury to each other, and a nuisance to the public. Trusting that Mr. Duncombe, or some other spirited Member of Parliament, will look to this matter, and that you will give insertion to this letter, I remain, &c. A QUONDAM CAB DRIVER. London, October 4, 1844. A JUVENILE FREE CHURCHMAN IN DIFFICULTIES; OR, " A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS." From the advertising columns of the Scottish Guardian we extract the following bit of cant and comfortable assurance : "To Christian Philanthropists —Any gentleman who could advance 500/., to be repaid, with interest, by instalments, in ten years, would be conferring an inestimable favour on a young man, a member of the Free Church, who has a good and permanent situa tion, but who, in his ' haste to be rich, has fallen into a snare,' and. requires such a sum as this to enable him to 'render unto every man his due,' and thus neither endanger his situation, nor give the adversary occasion to reproach his profession. Letters addressed X. S., Guardian office, will receive immediate atten tion. A cup of cold water given to a disciple, in the name of a disciple, shall not lose its reward."' The avarice of the young Free Churchman is not so remarkable as the mode by which he proposes to extricate himself out of the scrape into which his cu pidity has involved him. A proper object, truly, for the sympathy of the Christian world is this modest youth, who rejoices in being a member of the Free Church, and who is so fearful of giving " the adver sary [who is he ?] occasion to reproach his profession." The consequences which may follow the loss of his present " good and permanent situation" are not in dicated ; but from the pressing tenor of the above notice, they must be immediate and tremendous to the Free Church in general, but "to Christian phi lanthropists" in particular.— Glasgow Courier. SCENE IN A CHURCH.—Last Sunday a rather un seemly collision took place between the Established and Free Kirks in Colmonell. The subject of dispute is a chapel erected at Barrhill more than a hundred years ago, by members of the Established Church, from funds of their own subscribing. The chapel was built solely to accommo date those who, owing to their distance from the parish church, were unable to attend it regularly ; and it has been the custom of the parish minister, ever since its opening, to preach in it every fourth Sabbath, or when circumstances intervened which hin dered his doing so, on the subsequent one. About forty or fifty years ago, during the incumbency of Mr. Mochrie, the chapel getting into disrepair, funds were collected throughout the whole parish to re pair it, to which the Cameronians and Anti-Burghers subscribed, on condition that they, in the absence of the clergyman of the parish, should have the use of the pulpit. Acting on this arrangement, they have preached in it ever since—the former occasionally, the latter pretty regularly. The Frees have for some time past arrogated the same liberty which these two bodies of Dissenters enjoy ; and what is worse still, of choosing whatever day they please. The Sunday before last the Rev. Mr. Blair inti mated, as he usually does every third Sunday, his inten tion to officiate in Barrhill Chapel the following one. It so happened that the Free Kirk minister had also given notice of his intention to preach the Sabbath in the same chapel. The consequence was, that upon the Rev. Mr. Mil roy (who went in Mr. Blair's stead) arriving at the chapel, he found it occupied by Mr. Wallace, in this instance the too free clergyman. Mr. Milroy immediately demanded, in Mr. Blair's name, the use o f the pulpit. This Mr. Wallace, acting upon the authority of Mr. Rigby Wason (the would-be pro prietor of the chapel), refused. Upon this the Rev. Gentleman called those who were standing near to wit ness that he was denied admittance into the pulpit, and then took his leave, followed by an immense number of people, who, upon seeing the result, rose from their seats in the chapel and walked out. From authority we learn that legal measures for redress will be resorted to immediately.—Correspondent of the Ayr Observer. ACCIDENT ON THE CROYDON RAILWAY.—About a quarter to one o'clock this morning, jan accident, likely to have been attended with the most fatal consequences, occurred on the Croydon Railway, immediately after the train had left the Jolly Sailors' station, on that line. A train having started some minutes before another, was overtaken at the above place, and in consequence of the first one having lost its light, usually carried behind, as a warning to others not to approach, the second train was driven with fearful violence into the first train ; and the consequence was that one carriage was thrown en tirely off the line, and various calamitous accidents oc curred to different parties—no less than seven persons being carried away, but we are glad to say none of them are dangerously wounded. THE LATE ACCIDENT AT HASWELL COLLIERY. — We are happy to announce, that measures have been iniated for relieving, as far as public sympathy can re lieve, the sufferings of the widows and orphans who have been left helpless and unprovided for by this deplorable calamity. We have no doubt that, in a few days, these proceedings will assume a more formal and general cha racter; and that the public bounty will be exercised on a scale of benevolence and liberality worthy of the occa sion. We understand that Mr. Burden, the Chairman of the Quarter Sessions, and some ladies and gentlemen in the neighbourhood of Castle Eden, have opened the subscription by handsome contributions ; and we have great pleasure in stating, that Mr. Bright, the member for this city, has, without the slightest solicitation, generously sent the sum of 501. for the relief of the families of the sufferers.—Durham Chronicle. LONDON AND BIRMINGHAM.—REDUCTION OF FARES. , —The recent trial of the London and Birming ham reduction of fares is too recent yet to speak as to its general effect, but we hear that the adoption of the third-class in conformity with the Act, has most materi ally improved that revenue, without in any way reduc ing the first or second class. These trains run every day, including Sunday. This is just like the London and Birmingham. If they resolve on not doing a thing, they will not, nor can Old Nick himself drive them to it. But once make up their minds to do it, and they will not stop at trifles, nor ask any questions, but how to do it well and effectually. We are glad to see that the Grand Junction have cordially co-operated with them in the good deed of third-class carriages, and the harmony of all the trains.—Railway Magazine. LORD BROUGHAM'S ACT AND THE SHERIFFS' COURTS, &c.—The diminution of business at the She riffs' and other minor Courts since the passing of the Act for abolishing imprisonment for debt has been very considerable, such debtors only being selected who are possessed of substantial property so as to render recovery less doubtful. Scarcely a case had been heard for some time at the Sheriff's Court, Surrey, and, for the City of J..tomion Sheriff's Court, there were no causes to try at the last sittings, while the Secondaries Court, which in variably sits twice a week, had no causes to try on Wednesday, and the Sheriff's Conrt, Red Lion-square, where the sittings have, during the vacation, been re duced from twice to once a week, had yesterday, the only Court-day for this week, neither writs of inquiry nor writs of trial set down for hearing. At the various Courts of Request only a small number of persons are in attendance on each COnrkday, instead of the vast number of meanly-clad poor meehani,es and labourers or their wives, who had been made the victims of the tally system. WHOLESALE SHEEP- ST EA L ING .—No fewer than eighty-foulsheep were found a few days since in a field belonging t o M r : Joha Barnwell, at Mount Pleasant, in the prish of Church Lit;vferd, War.wipli shire, having various marks upon them, and under cirentastameo which leave no doubt of their having been stolen from various individpals some distance off. The fellows who stole them fad, no doubt, ciqvf.7, the poor animals from a long distance, but at length findlifg that, they began to manifest symptoms of exhaustion; drove them Into the above field, lest they chonld lie down in the road; and thus betray their lawless drivers. The practice of sheep-stealing has lately been carried 'on to aft alarming extent. GRAND SOIREE at MANCHESTER. FRIDAY MORNING.—The Winchester Athenaeum, which is so prominently connecTEd with the meeting we have to report, was established in 1836, for the purpose of affording to " the youth of the middle classes," those intellectual advantages which can only be obtained by wealth or the combination of numbers. The Institution possesses a noble building in Bond-street, erected from the designs and under the superintendence of Mr. C. Barry, and has a library of a very extensive and useful character. Its present number of members (upwards of 1,700), is a large increase upon the numbers shown in former and less prosperous years. Last year a great effort was made to redeem the Institution from a debt accumulated during seasons of distress. This effort was projected and conducted, we believe, by two members of the Institution—Mr. P. Berlyn and Mr. E. Watkin, who were determined that an Association possessing so many attractions should, if possible, be saved to the town in its entire usefulness. As a consummation of this effort a grand soiree was held in October, 1843, under the pre sidency of Mr. Charles Dickens. The soiree last even ing was on the same plan, but was intended to draw the attention of the public more forcibly to the importance of increasing the number and efficiency of Institutions having in view the advancement and diffusion of useful knowledge. Mr. D'lsraeli, in a most handsome and ready manner, complied with the earnest wishes of the Committee that he should preside ; and the attendance was most nume rous and gratifying. The following noblemen and gentlemen were upon the platform :—Lord J. Manners, M.P., Lord Ranelagh, the Hun. G. S. Smythe, M.P., Mr. C. Kemble, Mr. M. Gibson, M.P., Mr. R. Cobden, M.P., Mr. J. Peel, Mr. Brotherton, M.P., Mr. J. Bright, M.P., Mr. R. Hill, Mr. W. C. Taylor, LL.D., Mr. S.C. Hall, Mr. J. Ather ton, President of the Athenaeum ; the Rev. Canon Clif ton, the Rev. R. Vaughan, D.D., the Rev. J. J. Taylor, 8.A., the Mayor of Manchester, the Mayor of Salford, Sir T. Potter, Knt., &c. A meeting was held in the Athenaeum-room in the morning to receive deputations from the local Societies in the district. The number of tickets for the soiree sold was 3,176, and, including the guests, about 3,200 ladies and gentlemen were present. A full military band was in attendance, and altogether the hall presented a most brilliant and magnificent spectacle. - Mr. D'lsaam, on taking the chair, was loudly cheered. He immediately rose and spoke as follows : When I last had the honour of addressing the members of the Manchester Athenaeum they were struggling for the existence of their institution. It was a critical mo ment in their fortunes. They had incurred a consider able debt in its establishment ; the number of its mem bers had gradually, and even for some years, considerably decreased ; and in appealing to the sympathies of the community, they were, unfortunately, appealing to those who were themselves but slowly recovering from a pe riod of severe and lengthened suffering. A year has elapsed, and the efforts that you thus made to extricate yourselves from those difficulties may now be fairly ex amined. That considerable debt has been liquidated ; the number of your members has been tripled—l believe quadrupled—and I am happy to say that your fortunes have rallied, while that suffering and surrounding com munity once more meet together in prosperity and suc cess.—(Cheers.) I think it not importune, at this mo ment of security and serene fortune, that we should clearly understand the object for which this great struggle has been made. Under circumstances which, if not desperate, filled you with the darkest gloom, you resolved like men to exert your utmost energies ; you applied yourselves to those difficulties with manly energy—with manly discretion. Not too confident in yourselves, you appealed, and appealed successfully, to the softer sex, who you thought would sympathise with an institution intended to humanise and refine.— (Cheers.) Dux fwntina facti might indeed be the motto of your institution, for it was mainly by such influence that you obtained the result which we now cele brate.—(Cheers.) But if the object which you had at stake was of so great importance, if it justified exertions so remarkable, made too at a moment when energy was doubly valuable, because you were dispirited, it, I think, should not be unwise for us now to inquire what was the I object for which we then exerted ourselves, whether it was one which justified that great sacrifice, and if it was, to ascertain why it was ever imperilled. To-night we are honoured by many who, like m y se lf, are stran gers, except in feeling, to your community. We are honoured too by the presence of deputations from many societies in this county and the north of England, who acknowledge a sympathy and an analogy of pursuit with the Athenaeum of Manchester. It will be well, then, to place before them briefly for their instruction, and per haps it may not be without profit, to remind you what that institution is that you have struggled to uphold, but the existence of which was once endangered. I think it is seven or eight years ago that some of the leading members of your community, remembering perhaps that theirs was a time when they regretted that for them such advantages did not exist, thought they would establish in this great city some institution that might offer to the youth of Manchester relaxation which might elevate, and a distraction which would save them from a sense less dissipation. They thought that the time had arrived when a duty devolved on those who took a leading part in communities that they should sympathise with the wants of the rising race, and therefore they resolved to establish an institution where those advantages that I have referred to might be supplied. With these views they resolved, in the first instance, .that some place should be supplied where the youth of Manchester might become perfectly acquainted with the passing mind, and passions, and feelings, and intelligence of the age. That idea was the foundation of your news-room. They rightly understood that the newspaper was the most effective arm of the press. It may indeed be con sidered as the infantry of the press. It is not a complete battalion—you require ordinance and artillery, a brilliant cavalry, above all you require the staff of the comman der in-chief, that, without absolutely or actively inter fering in the fray, surveys all that occurs, and is ready at all times to apply itself to the quarter which requires counsel ; but still you may consider the journal as the most efficient arm of the press. With these views they furnished a chamber, in which the members of the Athenaeum might be perfectly acquainted in the perusal of the chief journals of the empire, with all that was pass in the country—all that was agitating and interesting the public mind, which might supply them with that in formation, and guide them in forming those opinions which it was the duty of every citizen of a free commu nity to be acquainted with, and to entertain.—(Cheers.) But, conscious that however qualified the journal is to stimulate curiosity, to assist investigation, to guide opi nion, the knowledge of that individnal that is limited only by the press is in danger of becoming superficial, you thought that the members of this Institution should have some means of consulting the more mature opinions, the more accurate researches of the literary mind of this and other countries, and wisely you made the chamber in which they might read the newspaper, an ante-room only to the library.—(Cheers.) You formed a collection which is now not contemptible in numbers, for you may count it by thousands. What, however, is not so great as many of you most desire which in passing I may be permitted with great humility to say is deficient in one respect, which is no disgrace to it, because it is a defi ciency which is shared by every great collection in this country. and I believe in Europe—but which I should be glad, and you would be proud, to be supplied in Man chester—l mean in that department which may be de scribed as a commercial library.—(Cheers.) Manches ter, that was once merely an assemblage of manufac turers, is now a great mercantile emporium, and at slight expense and with no great diffiulty, if there were suffi cient zeal, you might make a collection of all those inte resting tracts on commerce which, at various times dur ing the last century, have appeared in England, which with difficulty you can refer to, but which would form in your collection a peculiar and interesting body of commercial literature, and which, by the bye, you cannot find in the national repository of this country.— (Cheers.) You, who had thus furnished the members of this Institution with the journal which gave them the information and feelings of the man—the library where they might correct the hasty opinions which per haps that passing criticism is apt to engender —you knew there were many not deficient in ability, not deficient in aptness or feeling, to whom the very ceremony of reading is irksome, and who require to be appealed to by another means perhaps atfirst sight more captivating. Therefore you formed a theatre were lectures were given, where the experiments of philosophy, the investi gation of literature, and the prolusions of art, were ren dered agreeable to the audience by the charms of the human voice. You were not content with having raised an institution, where the journal, the library, and the lecture-room were always prepared to enlighten or to amuse,—you remembered those wise words of Charles V., who said that " the man who knew two languages had two souls and two lives"—and, therefore, you esta blished classes by which the youth of the city might initiate themselves in a knowledge of the modern lan guages.—(Cheers.) Your plan was comprehensive ; but it was not limited even by this fourth division. You know well that in a free country, in a country that prides itself upon the science and practice of self-govern ment, it is the duty, at least it is the interest of all men, to be able to express themselves in publio with per eloquence ; therefore you the social manners of established m sP o ic n u y i w ) , i t a h n d t al,l i e f p discussionpossible , olit ic political l l w is f i oe t c h i ea tnyci an institution in har- England. Having thus amply provided for the forma tion of the mind of your new and rising community, you still remembered (borrowing a happy idea from those races of antiquity to whom you owe your name) that any education which confined itself to sedentary pur suits was essentially imperfect, that the body as well as the mind should be cultivated —yo u wisely, and in no common and ordinary spirit, established a gymnasium. —(Cheers.) These are the principal characteristics of your institution. There are others on which it would be wearisome to dwell ; but I have placed before you six principal objects that you had desired to attain. Having taken this large and comprehensive view of the wants of your society, and meeting them with a spirit Po liberal and large, you took the best and wisest step. You knew well the effect that architecture produces on the human mind ; you determined, therefore, that your establish ment should be embodied in an edifice that should please the imagination and satisfy the taste. You invited the most eminent of modern architects. Under the roof of a noble elevation you supplied the means for pursuing those studies that I have indicated ; and this is a simple account of the Manchester Athenaeum. It is difficult to conceive how a nobler purpose, if for a moment we dilate upon it, c0'.:41 have animated your intentions. When we remem ber' the' class oil our community for this institu tion was Particularly adapted--when we conceive, diffi cult as it is, surrounded as we now are with luxury and pleasure—when we attempt to picture to our imagine done whai; is the positien of a youth, perhaps of very tender years, sent; as 4. am informed is'verY frequently the ease; "from a distant distribt, 6'pm \his fortunek this great metropolis of labour and of science _ —wllep think of that youth tender in age, with h 9 dPhlUilg hearth to soothe and stimulate, to counsel or control— when we picture him to ourselves after a day of indefa tigable toil, left to his lonely evenings and his meagre lodgings, without a friend and without a counsellor, fly ing to dissipation from sheer want of distraction, and perhaps involved in vice before he is conscious of the . very fatal net that is surrounding him—what a contrast to his position does it offer when we picture him to our selves with a feeling of self-consciousness, which sup ports and sustains him after his day of toil, entering a great establishment where everything that can satisfy curiosity, that can form taste, that can elevate the soul of man, and lead to noble thoughts and honourable in tentions, surrounds him. When we think of the conve nience and the comfort, the kindness and sympathy, which, with It due decorum of manners, he is sure to command, this youth, who but a few hours before was a stranger, viewing an institution like the present only in this limited aspect, one must regard it as a great harbour of intellectual refuge and social propriety. If my de scription of what this Institution offers to us—if my view of what it in some degree supplies, be just, what, I must inquire, is the reason that an institution, the prosperity of which now cannot be doubted, but so brief a time ago could have been apparently in the last stage of its fortunes ? It is not an agreeable task—l fear it may be considered by some an invidious one, if I, who am a stranger among you, should attempt to play the critic upon your conduct ; but I feel confidence in your indulgence.—(Cheers.) I remember the kindness which has placed me in this honourable position, and there fore I shall venture to express to you the two reasons to which I think the dangerous state of our position must fairly be ascribed. I would say in the first place, with out imputing the slightest fault to the originators of this Institution, wishing to be most distinctly understood as not only not imputing any fault to them, but most de cidedly being of opinion that the fault- does not lie at their door ; still I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that, in the origin of this Institution, by circumstances not foreseen, and which certainly were not intended, a party, a limited and a sectarian feeling, in some degree pervaded its management.—(Cheers.) I confess, myself, that it appears to me that it would have been a marvel had it been otherwise. When we remember the great changes that had then but very recently occurred in this country —when we recal to our mind not only the great changes that bad occurred, but the still greater that were menaced and discussed—when we remember what an influence is created when local jealousy blends with political passion —it is not difficult to imagine, because there are none of us present but in their sphere must have felt its influence —it is not wonderful that men of different political opinions should look with extreme jealousy upon each other. A combination of peculiar circumstances that created a balanced state of parties in those places where the struggle for dominion and power take place very much assisted this feeling ; and that such a feeling existed throughout all England in a degree more in tense and more virulent than has ever been equalled in the history of this country, I think no man will deny, and all must deplore. For my own part, I really believe that had that party and sectarian feeling proceeded in the same power and virulence it has done for the last twelve or fourteen years, it must have exercised a barbarising influence upon public sentiments and public manners.— (Cheers.) There are some amongst us now, I know, who believe that the period has arrived when a great effort must be made to emancipate this country from the degrading thraldom of faction—(Long and continued cheering)—to terminate, if possible, that extreme that sectarian, and limited view, in which all human conduct is examined, observed, and criticised—to put an end to exclusiveness, which, in its peculiar sphere, is equally deleterious as that aristocratical exclusiveness of man ners which has produced so much evil ; and, as far as I can form an opinion, these views have met with sympathy from every part of the country.—(Cheers.) I look upon it that to-night, I hope I am not mistaken, we are met to consummate and to celebrate the emancipation of this city, at least as far as the Athenaeum extends, from the influence of these feelings.—(Cheers.) I hope that our minds and our hearts are alike open to the true character of this Institution, to the necessities which have created it, to the benefits to which it leads ; and happy I shall be and all, I am sure, who are assisting me this evening, if we prove that our efforts, however humble, may have assisted in so delightful and so desirable a consumma tion.—(Cheers.) Now, that frankly I have expressed it, that is one of the reasons, and one of the principal rea sons, why I believe a blight seemed to have fallen over our fortunes. I think at the same time, that there is another cause that has exercised an injurious effect upon the fortunes until recently of this Institution. I think that a limited view of its real character has been taken even by those who were inclined to view it in a spirit of extreme friendliness. It has been looked upon in the light of a luxury, and not of a necessity—as a means of enjoyment in the hour of prosperity from which we ought to be debarred when the adverse moment had arrived ; so that when trade was prospering, when all was sunshiny, a man might condescend to occupy his spare hours in something else tha n i n a me l anc h o l y , brooding over the state of the country—that when re turns were rapid and profits ready, one might deign to cultivate one's faculties, and become acquainted with what the mind of Europe was conceiving or executing ; but those were delights to be reserved only for those chosen hours. Now that, lam bound frankly to say, is not the view which I take of this question—not the idea which I have formed of the real character of the Man chester Athenaeum. I look upon it as part of that great educational movement which is the noble and ennobling characteristic of the age in which we live.—(Cheers.) Viewing it in that light, I cannot consent myself that it should be supported by fits and starts. The impulse which has given us that movement is one that may be traced to an age that may now be considered remote, though the swell of the waters has but recently ap proached our own shore. Heretofore society was esta blished necessarily on a very different principle to that which is now its basis. As civilisation has gradually progressed it has equalised the physical qualities of man. Instead of the strong arm, it is the strong head that is now the moving principle of society.—(Cheers.) You have disenthroned force, and placed on her high seat intelligence—(Loud cheers)—and the necessary consequence of this great revolution is, that it has become the duty and the delight equally of every citizen to cultivate his faculties. The prince of all philosophy has told you, in an immortal apophthegm, so familiar to you all that it is written now in your halls and cham bers, " Knowledge is power." If that memorable passage had been perused by the student who first announced this discovery of that great man to society, he would have found an oracle not less striking, and in my mind certainly not less true, for Lord Bacon has not only said that " knowledge is power," but, living one century after the discovery of the printing-pros, he has also announced to the world that " knowledge is pleasure."—(Cheers.) Why, when the great body of mankind had become familiar with this great discovery—when they learned that a new source was opened to them of influence and enjoyment, is it wonderful that from that hour the heart of nations has palpitated with the desire of becoming acquainted with all that has happened and with speculating on what may occur ?—(Cheers.) It has, indeed, produced upon the popular intellect an influence almost as great—l might say, analogous to the great change which was produced upon the old commercial world by the discovery of the Americans. A new standard of value was introduced, and after this to be distinguished man must be intellec tual.—(Cheers.) Nor, indeed, am I surprised that this feeling has so powerfully influenced our race ; for the idea of human happiness is dependent on the cultivation of the mind and on the discovery of truth, which, next to the conviction of our immortality, is an idea the most full of consolation to man ; for the cultivation of the mind has no limits, and truth is the only thing that is eternal.—(Cheers.) Indeed, when you consider what a man is who knows only what is passing under his own eyes, and what the condition of the same man must be who belonged to an institution like the one which has assembled us together to-night, is it—ought it to be, a matter of surprise that from that moment to the present you have had a general feeling throughout the civilised world for the diffusion of knowledge ? A man who knows nothing but the history of the passing hour, who knows nothing of the history of the past, but that a certain person whose brain was as vacant as his own oc cupied the same house as himself, who in a moment of despondency or of gloom has no hope in the morrow because he has read nothing that has taught him that the morrow has any changes—that man, compared with him who has read the most ordinary abridgment of his tory or the most common philosophical speculation, is as distinct and different an animal as if he had fallen from some other planet, was influenced by a different organisation, working for a different end, and hoping for a different result.—(Cheers.) It is knowledge that equalises the social condition of man—that gives to all our political position, passions which are in common, and enjoyments which are universal. It is like the ladder in the patriarch's mystic dream. Its base rests on the primeval earth—its crest is lost in the shadowy splendour of the empyrean, while the great authors that for traditionary ages have held the chain of science and philosophy, of poesy and erudition, are like the angels ascending and descending on the sacred scale, and maintaining, as it were, the communication between man and Heaven.—(Loud cheers.) This feeling is so universal that there is no combination of society in any age in which it has not developed itself. It may, indeed, be partly restrained under despotic governments, under peculiar systems of retarded civilization ; but it is a con sequence as incidental to the spirit and the genius of the Christian civilization of Europe, as that the day should follow night, and the stars should shine according to their laws and order.—(Cheers.) I can recal—the name of the very . Institution that brings us together reminds me of the circumstance—l can recal, and I think I see more than one gentleman around me who equally can recal the hours in which he wandered amid-- - its creative force to every combination of human cir cumstances that could produce your objects. Yet, amid the toil and the triumphs of your scientific industry, upon you there comes the undefinable, the irresistible yearning for intellectual refinement--you build an edifice consecrated to those beautiful emotions, and to those civilizing studies in which they excelled, and you impress upon its front a name taken from— " Where on Agean shores a city rose, Built nobly, clear the air, and light the soil, Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence !" —(Loud cheers.) What a beautiful triumph, I must say, to immortal genius, what a sublime incentive to eternal fame ! Then, when the feeling is so universal, when it is one which modern civilization is nurturing and deve loping, who does not feel that it is not only the most benevolent, but the most politic thing you can do, to avail yourselves of its influence, and to direct in every way the formation of that character upon which intellect must necessarily now exercise an irresistible influence ? We cannot shut our eyes any longer to the immense revolution. Knowledge is no longer a lonely eremite, affording a chance and captivating hospitality to some lonely pilgrim ; knowledge is now found in the market place, a citizen and a leader of citizens. The spirit has touched the multitude ; it has impregnated the mass— " —Totamque infusa per artus, Mons agitat molem, et maguo se corporc miscet." —(Cheers.) I would say one word, then, to those for whom this Institution is not entirely, but principally formed. I mould address myself to that youth on whom the hopes of all societies repose and depend.—(Cheers.) I doubt not that they feel conscious of the position which they occupy—a position which, under all circum stances, at all periods, in every clime and country, is one replete with duty. The youth of a nation are the trustees of posterity ; but the youth I address have duties peculiar to the position which they occupy. They are the rising generation of a society unprecedented in the history of the world, that is at once powerful and new. In other parts of the kingdom the remains of an ancient civilisation are prepared ever to guide, to cultivate, to influence the rising mind ; bat they are born in a miraculous creation of novel powers, and it is rather a providential instinct that has developed the necessary means of maintaining the order of your new civilization than the matured foresight of man. This is their inheritance. They will be called on to perform duties—great duties. I for one, wish for, their sakes and for the sake of my country, that they may be performed nobly. I give to them that counsel which I have ever given to youth, and which I believe to be the wisest and the best—l tell them to aspire.— (Cheers.) I believe that the man who does not look up will look down—(Cheers) ; and that the spirit that does not dare to soar is destined perhaps to grovel.—(Cheers.) Every individual is entitled to aspire to that position which he believes his faculties qualify him to occupy.— (Loud cheers.) I know there are some who look with what I believe is short-sighted timidity and false prudence upon such views. They are apt to tell us, " Beware of filling the youthful mind with an impetuous tumult of turbulent fancies ; teach him, rather, to be content with his position, don't induce him to fancy that he is that which he is not, or to aspire to that which he cannot achieve." In my mind these are superficial delusions.— (Cheers.) He who enters the world finds his level. It is the solitary being, the isolated individual, alone in his solitude, who may be apt to miscalculate his powers, and misunderstand his character. But action teaches him the truth, even if it be a stern one. Association affords him the best criticism in the world, and I will venture to say that if lie belonged to the Athenzum, though when he enters it he may think himself a genius, if nature has not given him a creative and passionate soul, before a week has elapsed he will become a very soberminaed individual.—(Cheers, and a laugh). I wish to damp no youthful ardour.—(Cheers.) I can conceive what such an Institution would have afforded to the suggestive mind of a youthful Arkwright. I can conceive what a nursing-mother such an Institution must have been to the brooding genius of your illustrious and venerated Dalton.—(Cheers.) It is the asylum of the self-formed ; it is the counsellor of those who want counsel, but it is not a guide that will mislead, and it is the last place that will fill the mind of man with false ideas and false conceptions. —(Cheers.) He reads a newspaper, and his conceit oozes after reading a leading article.—(A laugh.) He refers to the library, and the calm wisdom of centuries and sages moderates the rash impulse of juvenescence.— (Cheers.) He finds new truths in the lecture-room, and he goes home with a conviction that he is not so learned as he imagined.—(Cheers.) In the discussion of a great question with his equals in station, perhaps he finds he has his superiors in intellect.—(Cheers.) These are the means by which the mind of man is brought to a healthy state, by which that self-knowledge that always has been lauded by sages may be most securely attained. It is a rule of universal virtue, and from the senate to the counting-house will be found of universal applica tion. Then, to the youth of Manchester, representing now the civic youth of this great county and this great district, I now appeal. Let it never be said again that the fortunes of this institution were in danger. Let them take advantage of this hour of prosperity calmly to examine and deeply to comprehend the character of that Institution in which their best interests are involved,tand which for them may afford a relaxation which brings no pang and yields information which may bear them to fortune.—(Loud cheers.) It is to them I appeal with confidence, because I feel I am pleading their cause— with confidence, because in them I repose my hopes. When nations fall it is because a degenerate race intervenes between the class that created and the class that is doomed.—(Hear, hear, and cheers.) Let them then remember what has been done for them. The leaders of their community have not been remiss in regard to their interests. Let them remember that when the inheritance devolves upon them they are not only to enjoy but to improve.—(Cheers.) They will some day succeed to the high places of this great community; let them recollect those who lighted the way for them, and when they have wealth, when they have authority, when they have power, let it not be said that they were deficient in public virtue and public spirit.—(Cheers.) When the torch is delivered to them, let them also lead the path of human progress to educated men.—(Mr. D'lsraeli sat down amidst the loudest and most enthu siastic cheering, which lasted several minutes.) Mr. COBDEN next addressed the assembly, and was loudly cheered. He felt no greater difficulty in address ing an audience than to find himself in a position where he had nothing to prove and nothing to deny. That was precisely his position on the present occasion, They had met to discuss a question in which, both without and within those walls, they were all agreed; and after the most eloquent and suggestive speech which they had heard, which would furnish texts and mottoes for much future discussion, he was put forward, he presumed, as one of the earliest members of the Athenaeum, to express, in the name of the Association, their feelings, of gratitude towards those gentlemen whom he saw around him, distingUished by th e i r gen i us , th e i r ran k, or their public fame, for having come amongst them to give their assistance and countenance to the Society; and the pleasure of welcoming them was not the less, that they had come amongst them when they were now prosperous. The Athenzum had been well de scribed to be a society for self-culture. It was a self-sup porting society. It had from the first been self-supporting. It was, he believed, a donation, as far as the building went, from the employer to tho employed ; but from its first origin, and from the nature of its rules, it had been wholly in the hands of its members, and if it had struggled through a period of unexampled adversity and reached the haven of prosperity, it was to the members of the Athen:earn alone that honour and merit were due. But though the Atheneum was self-supporting, they should not forget the very great advantages which had been conferred upon them by such visits as they had received that evening, and those they were honoured with last year, by Mr. Dickens and other friends of literature, Not the most unimportant of those advan tages was, the consideration of the mixed political cha racter of the gentlemen who surrounded him. Their Institution was now at all events rescued from the charge —he would not admit that it was ever deserved—of having a political object in view. He was sere he spoke the language and the feeling of every member at the Athenasum, when he said, he should regard that man as the greatest enemy to his kind, who should ever dream of converting that Institution to any party or political purpose.—(Cheers.) Ile could not help congratulating himself, while Mr. D'lsraeli was speaking, that w;te Lord John Manners on the one side, and Mr. Staythe on the other, the imp u t a ti on o f par t y must b e an absolute contradiction.—(Cheers.) He tkanked them for coming among them, and producin g so admirable a result as they had witnessed tha t night. And now, taking that vantage ground—having the fullest reliance upon the cordial support of every party, sect, and class, in the community, lie would asic what might not the Athensettm become under such favourable aus pices ? lie remembered in the most delightful work with which the genius of their chairman had supplied them— (Loud cheers)—who, he must observe, was, he believed, the first man of distinguished genius —who in a work of the imagination bad assigned to one of his (Mr. Cobden's) order something like an honourable status in in his por traiture—(Cheers)—he remembered his Milbank, and he thanked him for it.—(Cheers.) By the way, lie rather thought the original of Coningsby was there too ; he believed he was'not v, married gentleman, and pro bably that occasion would marry him.—(Cheers, and a laugh.) But be was going to say that in that delightful work Mr. D'lsraeli said, speaking of Manchester, "It is the philosopher only who can :Inderstand and predict the future destiny of Manchester." He wo u ld ven t ure to say 1 that the philosopher would have but one test for the future greatness of Manchester, and it would be a mental, not a material test. The test would not be the expanse of bricks and mortar, nor the multiplication of steam engines and the ooeumulation of wealth. Just in pro portion ac e mental development proceeded in a bec9na re dignified ng ratio with the development of wealth and x and i m e at a e i r td material re or sources, would their destiny be the very reverse,—(Cheers.) Manchester stood upon an eminence; they were not in that position in which they could shrink from that test. They were increasing in numbers, they were accumulating in wealth, and there fore, unless at the same time they made progress in those moral and intellectual developments to which he had re ferred, the expansive power of her mills would contribute to the doom rather than to the honour of Manchester. lie spoke not merely of Manchester, but of the surround ing districts; Manchester had its satellites of towns , as large as ancient cities—these ancient cities which had become celebrated in the world's hist b ory, not for their wealth, not f or .h e i r i ncrease of n utners,but because they had left t races of the arts and literature in the efforts of it s i mmortal men of il ,genius, lie therefore called upon th e d eput i es frr t e st . :r t r n ou_nding towns of Blackburn, Sto4port, Qidham, be.graui 4g 6f: ft , tot this be the A, 4 ll e ort to A 4 '" in those towns e.tr .. tliewieual an , ; ..._ _..,,as h O.- - - ' - sous render their community worthy or _..,, wealth and resources they possessed.—(Cheers.) In whatever position they were placed, whatever was the capacity of each, whatever their destiny, whether they 141 Za/PSOZE2I.A.IIrNOUS. The accounts from Dublin of the state of Lady Heytes bury's health are still very unfavourable. The corn harvest in Ireland is very nearly brought to a close, all through the country. The wheat crop is the finest and most abundant for several years ; but oats and barley are scarcely an average. Potatoes, notwithstand ing the early failures, promise a good crop. Altogether, the harvest is excellent in quantity and quality. A letter from Fetherd, county of Tipperary, says, " Last year wheat was a good crop, but the produce this year is from 20 to 25 per cent. over it. The price here at present is 235. 4d. per barrel of twenty stone." The second annual meeting of the Ongar Labourers' Friend Society took place at Chipping Ongar on Thurs day. The show consisted chiefly of vegetables, flowers, bread, butter, honey, &c., the produce of labourers, and the premiums awarded were for skill in husbandry, al lotment and garden produce, industry, service, and eco nomy, home duties and schools. At two o'clock the So ciety proceeded to award the several prizes. After the proceedings of the meeting had terminated the Society and their friends dined together at the Bell Inn in the evening.. The whole of the shares for the projected railway from Tavistock to Plymouth have been taken up, and a Bill will be applied for in the next session of Parliament. It is calculated that the thirty-one railways for which Acts of Parliament were obtained last session will re quire a capital of 11,741,7171. sterling. We have learned that the Directors of the Dover Rail way are about to place engines of a more powerful de scription upon the line, by which all chance of delay will in future be obviated. The unexpected and sudden failure of some of those in use has given rise to the com plaints that have been made of the late arrival of some of the trains. Two rather extensive houses in this town says, the Liverpool Mercury, have suspended payment. The transactions of one of the houses have been very large, but the parties have been most honourably struggling with their impending difficulties, and the deficiency, we believe, will not exceed 25,0001. It appears that the total quantity of malt made in one year, to the 10th of October last, in the United Kingdom, was 4,459,673 quarters, of which 8,566,298 quarters were used in that period. In England the quantity used was 3,336,150, in Scotland 103,902, and in Ireland only 126,267 quarters in the year. In one year, ending in October last, there were nearly 43,157 acres of land under the cultivation of hops in England and Wales, and the hop duty paid in the year amounted to 243,7961. 7s. 2d. The Directors of the Pastern Counties Railways hav ing determined on an extension of their line to Bury, via Newmarket, submitted the plans of two lines to the Jockey Club on Wednesday last for their opinion, one being proposed to pass to the left of the race course, the other to the right of the town. The club was almost unanimously in favour of the former. It is stated that the line may be completed in about two years. On Thursday the third annual meeting of the county of Durham Agricultural Association took place at Stock ton-on• Tees, in Durham. The interesting ceremony of baptising a Jewess took place on Friday afternoon, at St. Mary's Church, Chel tenham. The convert was Miss Wolfsberg, daughter of Mr. Wolfsberg, of that town. She was named Adela Sini Wolfsberg. After the sacred rite had been per formed, an elegant copy of the " Church Service" was presented to her by a lady. COWES, ISLE OF WIGHT. FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.) ROYAL ( FROM SQUADRON INTELLIGENCE. ARRIVALS. SEPT. 29 .—Circassian schooner, Major Phillips, from the Mediterranean. OCT. I.—Gem schooner, John Hambrough,Esq., from Cherbourg. 4.—Stormfinch yawl, Lieut.-Colonel Bowers, from Falmouth and Weymouth. _____ - SAILING S. SEPT. 28.—Reindeer cutter, John Moore, Esq., for Lymington, to lay up. 29.—Charlotte cutter, lion. W. White Hedges, Dart mouth and Cork. YACHTS AT AND ABOUT THE STATION. KETCH.—Kestrel, Commander, Earl of Yarborough. SCHOONERS.—Georgian, Flirt, Circassian, Gem, Tarifa, Hawk, Jack o' Lantern. CIITTERS.—Phantom, Nymph, Intrepid, Ariadae, Me dina, Whim, Iris. YAWLS.—Stormfinch and Nautilus. SEPT. 26. —Sailed from Gibraltar, for England—The !loyal Yacht Squadron Schooner Gitana, H. Burr, Esq. 30.—Arrived at Plymouth—The Royal Yacht Squad ron cutiCr Ganymede, J. H. W. P. Smith Pigot, Esq., from a cruise. ROYAL VISIT.—The workmen are still employed altering the passages, doorways, &c., at Osbourne House, under the direction of the Inspector-General of Palaces. On Saturday a vessel arrived with furniture from London, and on Monday the Monkey steamer, loaded with furniture, from Brighton. The Royal nursery is said to be expected daily, and her Majesty, immediately after the departure of Louis Philippe, who arrives at Portsmouth on Monday next. We are also told we are to have three line-of-battle ships, and the experimental squadron in our roads. From the exten sive alterations now making in Osbourne House, there can be no doubt that her Majesty intends occupying it, nor that it will be held for more than one year. No such alterations of the general arrangement of any lady or gentleman's house would be made if but to be occu pied for a week or two, and was to be entirely given up on the Ist of May next. There is a report that forty beds and bedsteads have arrived for the Guards, and that they are to be quartered at Barton (part of the Osbourne estate) ; the present occupiers leave it on the 11th inst. OTTER HUNTING IN THE SURREY ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.—Some few weeks since a very fine otter escaped from his cage in these gardens, and took refuge in the lake, which being amply stocked with fish—carp, tench, &c.—afforded him a fine treat. All manner of methods were tried to catch him, but without success ; but at last his appetite took a higher flight, and he fan cied the gold-fish, two or three dozen of which he de voured in one night. This was rather too expensive a treat for the proprietor, and he determined to make a last attempt at trapping him. A trap, prepared and baited with a perfect bonne bouche, was placed in his track, and last evening he was taken under the or chestra, but such was his ferocity that the trap (a strong wire one) was nearly destroyed before he could be placed in his old domicile. He is much improved in size and weight since he escaped, and seems perfectly recon ciled to the restraint under which he is again placed. We have this week to record the death of John Overs, the author of " The Evenings of a Working Man "—a little volume lately ushered into public notice by Mr. Dickens, the steady, faithful, and beneficent friend of the deceased, The following brief sketch, we feel assured, will not be found uninteresting to our read ers, whose sympathy in behalf of those whom Mr. Overs has left in very destitute circumstances, we would wish to engage. John Overs was born at Birmingham, July 2, 1808. His mother, who was a very su perior woman for her station in life died when he was five years of age. He always remem bered her with the most ardent affection. He received a very limited education, and at the age of fourteen was apprenticed to the cabinet-case making business. At a very early period he devoted his hours of leisure to com position in prose and verse. The writer of this notice, who knew Mr. Overs long before he became acquainted with Mr. Dickens, has at present in his possession the copy of an essay by John Overs on Spontaneous Gene ration, in which the arguments of the advocates of this doctrine are ably met, and satisfac torily refuted. It is a most original produc tion. Mr. Ayers contributed' [occasionally to various periodicals, especially Tait's Magazine and Cruihshank's Omnibus. About four years ago he was seized with chronic pleurisy, since which time he suf fered much, though he was occasioeally able to pursue his ordinary employment. For the last twitive months, however, he was a confirmed invalid. Hia weakness and sufferings graduully increased, and last Saturday "evening, at eight o'clock, be expired at his house, Vauxhall-street, Lambeth. During his long illness Mr. Dickens showed him invariable kindness. Through him Mr. Overs was introduced to Dr. Elliot son, whose constant attention he also experienced. Mrs. Overs is left with a family of sf.c children totally unprovided for, the eldest of whom is not more than ten years of age, the youngest only two months. We feel assured that such a case as this has only to be mentioned to the benevolent to excite their sympathies in favour of so deserving a person as we know Mrs. Overs to be, We are gratified to learn that Mr. Newby, the publisher of " The Evenings of a Working Man," in the absence of Mr. Dickens, is interesting himself in this most de serving case, and we earnestly trust that his generous endeavours may be attended with SUCCe4d.,4das. ACCIDENT ON THE ROUEN RAILWAY.—The train of merchandise which left Rouen at twelve o'clock on T u •saday last, experienced an accident which might have been most fatal consequences. The conductors : ' ''lld ,, e - s d ..re w el it std tle between the station of Saint Pierre and that of Gailfu:: - that the three arat waggons, laden with spun thread, were Xl l fire. The trail w a s imme diately stopped, and the wagi7'ns detached. 14 a few The train minutes they were completely cons. again continued its course, but in a short time It was 9b served that two waggons laden with coffee were likely_Q burning. They were detached from the train, and were totally consumed, like the previous waggons. The gences, and the waggons which preceded the train of merchandise, with which they were connected, continued their course without having experienced any argri4eet• This calamity is attributed to some sparks of coke which had escaped from the chimney. This is the first acci dent which has occurred on the Paris and Rouen Rail , road. The Company bad immediately ordered that the ownerstof the merchandise should be indemnified for their , loss, which is estimated at 40,000 f. " Fields that cool Ilyssus laves." At least there is my Hon. Friend the Member for Stock port, who, I am sure, has a lively recollection of that classic stream, for I remember one of the most effective allusions he made to it in one of the most admirable speeches I ever listened to.—(Cheers.) But, notwith standing his allusion, I would still appeal to the poetry of his constitution, and I know it abounds in that quality. —(A laugh.) lam sure that he could not have looked without emotion on that immortal scene. I still can re member that olive-crowned plain, that sunset crag, that citadel fano of ineffable beauty, That was a brilliant civilization developed by a gifted race more than 2,000 years ago ; at q time when the ancestors of the manu facturers of Manchetter, who now clothe the world, were themselves covered with skins, and tattooed likered o T f h t e i y me were the children of ili men of the wilderness. But influences more powerful separate and distin i'a°4ed.istant, a rugged, and norther n m before different altars, th e y fol ceelvvieeisn suneh. thanyo ; ti f f c h o e m They you l i avtv‘ that bowedfair in n l lapse lowed different customs, they wore molded by dif ferent man7,ors, yotak:;es of ay?, beat,iti7.4 Oey sol t ight in' art the 'Means of enit?`odying t t hOiy pa.'ssiAme &'P_ ll 9n§ 4 6. 14, 1 , 4P4 nie v ano of a unit', ..... to utility, ,t,tver almost unknown to anti- unless it was accompanied with intelligence, civilization, and intellect. If they were in poverty, what so delight ful as the inner resources derived from cultivation of our • higher faculties, which no bankrupt taunt could ever ex tort from us ?—(Cheers.) He read with great pleasure the letter of their old friend Mr. Thomas Hood, who said in reference to this subject, in answer to an invitation to be present on that occasion :—" The truth is, I am a confirmed invalid, and almost set in for still life, a con dition irksome enough, and which would be intolerable, but from the comfort and consolation I derive from the diversions of authorship and the blessed springs of lite rature. Fortunately the head that has a mind to it may travel without those pantings which beset spas modic lungs ; the thoughts can expatiate, without such palpitations as result from the excursions of the legs. Forbidden to walk, there is the run of the library ; b u t I have already described the advantage of books and reading, by help of which even the bedridden may enjoy a longer range than even Captain Warner's. Suffice it, that experience and suffering have confirmed my former views, that if anything could aggravate the evil of be coming what the Scotch call a puir silly body,' it must • be a poor silly mind, incapable of wholesome exercise, without appetite for intellectual food, or the power of digesting it. And as age and accidents to the human machinery will impair the strongest horse-power of health, whilst the fairest mercantile endeavours may fail to secure a fortune—l would earnestly forewarn all per sons within reach of my counsel, especially the young, to provide against such contingencies, by the timely cul- • tivation and enrichment of that divine allotment which it depends on ourselves to render a flower-garden or a dead waste • a pleasure-ground visited by th e graces, and fre quented by the fairies, or a wilderness hunted by satyrs,' lie would only add, they were Young Manchester, and he rejoiced to think they had Young England with them. —(Cheers.) Let them go on as they had done, and apply the same energy to that and kindred institutions, and let them proceed in the firm belief that they were not only adding to their own stores of happiness, but tending to elevate th e commun i ty among which they lived—for upon them would depend the future greatness, of Manchester and the surrounding community. Lord J. MANNERS, who was loudly cheered, said— When I first received the flattering invitation to he pre sent at this most brilliant and gratifying assemblage, I will own to you that I hesitated whether to accept it or not, because I was not sure that a stranger from another part of England did right in participating in a work af fecting the local interests of this vast hive of manufac turing industry ; but then I reflected that Manchester had now, by the enterprise and skill of her children, become intimately and inseparably connected with every portion, however remote, of the English kingdom, and that every Englishman might therefore claim a share in her greatness, sympathise in her endeavours to promote the welfare of her children, and share in her princely hospitality. Nor, indeed, will this be the first time that I have partaken of this hospitality, nor this the first occasion on which I have expressed my grateful sense of it.—(Cheers.) In appearing, therefore, among you this evening, although to most of you, I fear, I must be a stranger, I cannot altogether say I feel myself among strangers.—(Cheers.) The kindness indeed of your reception of me, and those cheers, would before this have dissipated my fears on that score. In these days of political rancour, and class and party distinctions, it is gratifying to any one who remem bers that the name of Englishman should be one or prouder import, and bear a more quickening spell, than that of Whig or Tory—(Cheers) —to find a field whereon politicians of all opinions may meet without quarrelling, and, better still, with a good hope that the result of the meeting may be affording increased means of mental amusement and recreation to the laborious tradesman and toiling apprentice.—(Cheers.) I have called it amusement and recreation, because I do not un derstand that your Athenmum professes to go beyond that, and because I should think less well of it if it did. And here I must beg a boon at your hands.—lf in any thing I have said, or am about to say, I may hazard an opinion not altogether in harmony with that of every in divdual out of the 3,000 whom I have now the honour of addressing, an event certainly by no means improbable, I ask you to overlook it, and, as a love of independence has ever been a characteristic of the Saxon, I am sure I shall not ask in vain. —(Cheers.) The reason, then, why Mechanics' Institutes were so strongly opposed at their formation, and why, in my opinion, so ninny of them are now either languishing or dead —was, that deserting and exceeding this their legitimate province, they arrogated, or at least their advocates arrogated for them, the edu cation of the country, and seemed to fancy it supplied by a smattering of science and human philosophy. It was but the other day I had the pleasure of listening to a speech, which would have graced any assembly, de livered by a young Birmingham artisan, in which he ascribed the decadence of all such institutions in his own town to their forgetting amusement in instruction, and acting on the assumption that a man, after working twelve, or fourteen, or perhaps fifteen hours a day, would or could sit down to recreate his mind with a course of mathematics or a lecture on geology.— (Cheers.) If then your Athenirum were founded on any such basis, I frankly say I could not support it, bur, believing it only proposes to su ppl y t h e a l ready educated with wholesome and agreeable reading —to Would, soften, and elevate the intellectual tastes of that middle class of which it is chiefly composed, and to foster and encou rage rising talent, I rejoice at this opportunity your kindness has afforded me of expressing my sympathy in your objects and my warm approval of your endea vours—endeavours and objects which, taken in con junction with others, animated by a similar spirit, may go far to supply the place of that more intimate con nection which once subsisted between the master and his apprentice, and unite generally the various classes of society in the firm bonds of mutual interest and good will.—(Cheers.) It would be, indeed, most presump tuous in me and most unnecessary to do more in Man chester, than just allude to the fact that there are no other steps to be taken besides this one of providing intellectual recreation for the middle class.—(Cheers.) The magnificent example set by Manchester to all other large towns, and with which all England is at this moment ringing —that great undertaking to provide parks and walks for all classes of the community—open alike to the highest and the lowest—shows how well that truth is understood in Manchester, and I trust, before long, it will be followed by another step in the same direc tion, the opening of museums and collections of that na ture to the people at large. Most encouraging indeed is it to witness the eagerness with which the people every where avail themselves of every opportunity which is, offered them to frequent exhibitions of art, places of in. nocent amusement—still wore gratifying their demea nour while there. The meeting I had the pleasure of attending this morning bore witness to another fact as to the taste of the members of the various literary insti tutions which I think is remarkable. We were told that history was a favourite study—(Cheers) —now, I think it a matter of congratulation, that contemporary with. this increased demand for history do we find a satisfac tory revolution in that department of literature. We see a truth-seeking inquisition at work, which refuses to accept the low and party views of the historians of the last century ; the data upon which history is to be formed are carefully sought out, revolved from the ob scurity in which they arc shrouded, and from them in dependent conclusions are formed, often at variance with received notions and opinions. The formation and suc cess of societies like the Camden, the Roxburgh, the Archaeological, and others which are constantly bringing, those data to light, are proofs of the zeal and earnest ness with which the records of the mighty past are being ransacked for the benefit, we may hope, of the future. In a social and political point of view—. political, I mean, in its most legitimate and least party sense—l rate highly the good which may accrue to this country from having its pest his tory not tt mere record of the kings who reigned and the battles they fought, but the history of its inner life, the habits, thoughts, and tastes of its people the real aims and objects of its governors laid faithfully be fore us, because I am every day more and more convinced that half the mischief which is done to a country like this by its legislators and rulers is done from a misunder standing of its past history—(Cheers)—and it is to socie ties like these, and to meetings like these, that they, who are thus pioneering the way to a faithful, understanding of the past, must look for support :ad encouragement against the obloquy and oppositv:,n which every one who disturbs the slumber of conte,ated lethargy must encoun ter.—(Cheers.) In aneelher, perhaps subordinate, but still important branch of contemporary literature—that of taste and the fine arts, no one can entertain a doubt as to the salutary change which has come over the popular mind in that respect. Glance at the literary advertise ments, observe the works lying in every bookseller's shop, on every stall at your railway stations, enter the schools of design now happily opened in some of our large towns, listen to the lectures of such men as Professor Dyce or Professor Willis—in all we see signs not to be misunder stood of an improved, a more noble, a more English, a more Christian taste. That which M. Rio and others have so appropriately termed Christian art has once more ' raised its head, and promises fair to emulate, not to sur pass, but to e mu l a t e it s p as t gran deur and b to eau t j. Be it then the part of th e M a nchester Atheiate9ma. rising art, cul tivateand foster that manly literature, this urenadg and this En e art, in their endeavour to n place,already so remarkable etlieireometa purityerci n beauty of their l s and manufacturing greatness,eg for e equally so for th artsand literature.—(Cheers.) Be it y d ourstorene render obsolete the taunt that manuf ac t ures must produce a dry, harsh, unpoetical, material spirit ; be it yours to practically by re t f b u o te m t a h s e ter te a r r r o i b bl i e teoto f contrast the which has beendrawn day between such a town as Manchester in 1480 and in 1840, by inducing a love for, and an appreciation ot, whatever is elevating and ennobling in the fire arts and literature : do this.—(Cheers.) I know those will stilt be tasks of greater moment and greater d;.fficulty to ae complish ; but do this—you will have done somewhat-e. a great somewhat ; you will blend together in harmony elements heretofore most contradictory; you will have used them for preparing the ground., it may be for others to bring into rich cultivation ; you will have set an example to the peopl e o f England, that however weighty political differences may be, social accord and improve. meat is still more so ; and depend upon it, your chil dren's children will have reason to bless those evenings spent as this evening is being spent, in good fellowship and the interchanges of kind wishes and of thought be. tween the various classes of this careworn empire', in we attempt —may it be successful—to soften the harsh ten• dencies of toil and wealth by the gentle means of litera ture and art.—(Loud and continued cheering.) Mr. M. GresoN congratulated the meeting on the brilliancy of the assemblage. He felt the force of the re. marks of his lion. Friend tho Member for Stockport when he expressed the embarrassment he experienced to endeavouring to address an assembly where al wee, agreed—there were no arguments to combat, ne f a ll ac i e s to refute ; there were none incredulous whom it was necessary to convince or surprise, no believing minds that it was desirable to attempt to strengthen or con. firm—all were agreed. It was animating to behold such a vast assemblage of lo.nyknc,l7,iit!ienliiive,e:nb.ruLdnognua.b4,