The Sun.
London, England, 1852-10-29 00:00:00

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THE SUN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 29,

COURT CIRCULAR.

PRINCESS'S THEATRE.

SPORTING DOTES.

WINDSOR, OCT. 28.

A five-act play, by 31:. Westland Marston, bearing
the modest title of " Anne Blake," was produced at NI
theatre last nigh:, with most siginel and deservedsoccer::.
The intrinsic uteri's of the drama are of the highest
orOor, and it is impossible to speak in too favourable
to-ms of the admirable ellicloney of the p rfornters. A
play better calculated to hold possession of the stage, and
one more deserving of being seen by all who entertain
any appreciation of dramatic and histrionic excellence,
we cannot specify. It is not the mare production of a
pleywri; ht's ingenuity—popular for is season, and des-
tined, after fulfilling a brilliant transitory existence, to
quiet intermsnt and speedy oblivion, but a valuable
adui-
nun to the stureheuse of our dramatic literature, rife
with a sound vitality.
The plot is artistically and lucidly constructed and
evolved. The churact, ra are distinctive, prominent, and
um xaggerated. The dialogue is nervou;, elegant, and
natural. We find no "purple patches" stitched on, no
ear-tiekliog burplusugc, but all germane to the matter.
No tinsel or clap-trap, but a sterling and polished sub-
stantiality. " Anne Blsku" is, we repeat it, the work of
a legitimate dramatist, not of up etentious plsymunger.
Five acts, and but seven characters—the unities of ttm,
nod place preserved—and yet not a moment of tedium
or flagging of interest. Such, in brief, is this master-
piece of the contemporary stage.
The story, simple in its framework, and harmonious
in its details, easy be narrated in a few words. The
action lies in the mansion of Sir Joshua Toppington
the vulgar- settled, ungentle, tied sordid uncle of the
orphan girl, whose father died in poverty, and loit her
dependent on the bounty of his coarse brother in law
and the heartless and wily Lady Toppington, Sir
Joshua's property is fully mortgaged to Air. Lanniston,
a neighbouring gentleman of station and fortune, who
would gladly make the poor but spirited dependent his
wile, which, when discovered by the worthy couple,
they change their harsh demeanour towards her into a
semblance of the greatest affection. The noble-minded
Anne, who feels bitterly her situation, has, however,
given her affections and troth to Thorold, a wandering
artist, end stands firm to her faith'idespite their it-I,lga-
Lions. Llaniston perseveres in his suit. 71/erold '
confidently and calmly at the proceedings of his rival;
and, strange to say, the rivals are friends. At length. '
however, Lady Toppington, by dint of wile, and
treacherous interpretation of motive, begins to insinuate
doubts in Anne's pure breast; and at length she finds
a gulden opportunity—not less than Moroi(' alone, and
rapturously kissing the miniature of a beautiful woman.
Au accidental summons causes him to leave the trinket
on the table—Lady I oppington eagerly secures it, nar-
rates to Anne the history of what she has seen, and ,
finishes by triumphantly exhibiting to her the cherished
picture of another. In the third act, some in
geniously-contrived recitations of speeches—in a re
bearsal for private theatricals, in which both lovers,
Anne, and her aunt, take part—are brought to
bear upon the situation of 7'horola and his betrothed;
the latter of whom, after gradually surprising and then
agonizing her lover by her altered manner and cutting
words, tells him that he is free, almost at the moment
that news is brought that the poor artist is a distinguiahee
Indian officer of great wealth and consideration, and
Anne's guardian. Upon this the lady, with deeper and
deeper feeling, takes an oath before her aunt that tile
poor dependent girl will never marry the rich betrayer
and then promises her hand to Llaniston. The fourth
act contains the grand scene of the play, in the parting
interview of Thyroid with Anne—when he gives her Lb(
fatal miniature, with theterrible intimation that it is the
portrait of her own mother, and in nobly written
language details the unbroken love of her father, who
died in India, for the wife from whom death, occasioned
by poverty and want, had parted him. Ie breathless
words poor Anne shrieks out her agony and her love for
Thcrold; but the fatal vow interposes, and she falls fran-
tically on her knees, utterly prostrate and undone.
Anne had already refused for the second time,
Mr. Lanniston. and she only scruples to fulfill her
troth to Thurold upon account of her oath—when thi
sudden revealed fact, at the end of the play, that co -
tuin Indian mine shares held by her father, and after
wards by Thcrold for the daughter's benefit, have be-
come worth treasures, so as to relieve her from het
own technical description of herself—as a poor dependent
—frees her from the vow made in that character. The
fifth act is devoted to the dinouernent of the final hap
pinife.sesacoriffi,;_thegloLvaefrasn,isatondn, twhehogeancetaroalulsy lsifbiefiramliatykesof the
over
'tee the bride what he bad intended for her portion—the
mortgage of the Toppington property—and thus turns
the respectable former proprietors into the dependency
which:Anne Bloke has risen. The sounds of con-
heardonfrorhe
,hthaeppaipupersosaocfhitnhge
aviriroial7ugleartsu,r,
yanrdejtohiceincg are heard
falls
lovers, and the discomfiture of the baiLd Berouet and
his lady.
Lovel and Bouroicault hare written plays, in which
the interest is centred in the characters originally sus-
tained, by Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, but oven
in respect of tbo co-performance of these pro.
eminent artists—to say nothing of Westland
Maratoe'e more exalted rank (as a dramatist—
commend as to the play under consideration. At the
conclusion of the fourth act the whole house rose at
them in an irresistible impulse of enthusiasm, and they
bad to appear before the toot-lights in obedience to the
universal and vehement demand. Were it but for this
pertion_ulone, we say—Go see "Anne Blake." Mrs.
Kean's personation of the heroine is a veritable triumph
of art. Nothing can exceed her exquisite delineation of
the nature " ardent and galled by wrong, "of the spirited
and loyal girl. The part is one requiring great acting
ability to do it adequate justice ; and to what hands
could it so felicitously be committed as to those of our
most finished and delightful actress? Thoro.'d is one of
those characters of serious comedy in which Mr. Kean is
incomparable, from his characteristic blending of expres
sive energy and accomplished ease. Mr. Walter Lacy
as Llaniston, looked and played in his usual gentlemanly
manner. Mr. Addison was admirable both in make up
and acting, as the detestable Sir Joshua, and we must give
en especial commendation to Mrs. Winetanley, who makes
her appearance but too seldom, for her assumption of
the pletting traitress, Lady Toppington Jillot, the but-
ler of the household, a rare coxcomb in his way, was
capitally done by Mr. Chester, who drew the first of the
countless rounds of applause that abounded throughout
the play; and Lloyd, the housekeeper, was done as well
as possible by Mrs. Daly. Better acted on the whole
no play could by possibility be. The scenery is, it need
hardly be said, painted and set in the invariable first-rate
style of the Princess's Theatre.
The applause at the conclusion was unanimous and
cordial, and a general recall was awarded to the artists
en masse. A most genuine gratulation fell to the lot of
the author, as he appeared, pursuant to custom, in the
front of his box ; and ho may indeed feel proud of his
noble contribution (and mark I original, not French-
stolen) to the stage, and, we must add, grateful to the
management for the pains, above all praise, bestowed on
its representation.

No. CCCXXXVII.

The following had the honour of dining with Lier
l'ilajesty yesterday:--The Prince and Princess of Ilo-
hQnloho. Langenberg, the Prii,ce-se Adelaide and Prince
Hermann of flohenlohn, the Earl of I,ls.lrue;oury, and
the Viscount Llardioge.
Princ, Albert, axompatiied by Prince Hermann of
Hohenlohe, went out bunting this afternoon, utteild,ql
by Lieut.-Coionel F. 11. Seymour,
The Earl of Malteesbury left the Castle this morning
for London.

YESTERDXY'. i 4 CING AT NEWMARKET, &c.

Of the rases d cide d yesterday, only two—the Ca.,s•
IP)w, and 50 SOVA. Stakes—are worthy of comment.
Australiar, in !:rah rhea for the former, reversed the
Criterion, running vir..lth Speed the I'lqvgh end Filbert.
The last named cut otlt the work to the bushes, where
West AuAratian took up the rennin, and iinn.hed a
very t-asy winner by couple of lengths. Speed an,
Plough was a bad third, and tho Putentia cc.ilt a very in-
ferior fourth. The rwining of the winner immediately
elevated him to thousands to sixty in the betting for the
Derby ; his chance for that race, however, I consider t
he but a so-and-so one.

A deputation from the Local Board of Health of
Dewsbury had an interview yesterday with the General
Board of Health, at their office, Whitehall, with respect
to the supply of water to the above-named district
The deputation (which were attended by the Engineer
to the Local Board, Mr. Ranger) consisted of Mr. John
Twredale (the Cnairnian of the Local Board), Mr.
Thomas Cook, Mr. James Howes, and Mr. Benjamin
Clay.
Mr. Henry Clive, M.P., had an interview with Mr.
Secretary Walpole yesterday at the Horne offic,.
General Campbell had an interview with Sir John
Pakit.gton seat( relay at the Colonial-office.
The Finance Committee of the Royal Commission for
the Exhibition of 1851 met at the Palace of West-
minster at four o'clock yesterday afternoon, Sir William
Cubitt in the chair; Mr. T. F. Gibson, Sir Alexander
Spearman, and Mr. Bowring (St cretary), attended.
Dispatches from the Governor of Malta were re-
ceived yesterday at the Colonial-office.

Tho 50 Suvs. Stakes brought out Pharold at last. lie
has been prepared fur three stakes ; for the first he wo.
drawn at the last moment for some unexplained reason,
tor the second ho was actually saddled and got some way
to the post, but arrived there too late lo start : the third
time, however, things came off more favourably, for in
his spin yesterday he. net only took the lead at 9tLi•:ing,
but made all the running, and woe, with some seven or
eight pounds in hand, by a length. Nicutine heat G:en-
avon (the faveurite at 6 to 5 against the fivkl) by a
head, for second place. Cobnut was stalled off I
cannot imagine what the ring could have been dreaming
about, considering the reputation Pharold is held in at
Newmarket, when they laid 10 to 1 against his winning.
I fancy he will find his way in,o the Derby betting; and
I stn confident he stands quite as much chance of taking
the great event next year as many of the present favour •
ttes; by which, however, I do not mean to say that he
will win.

A Cabinet Council was held yesterday afternoon at
the Foreigu-office. The Ministers present were—The
Earl of Derby, the Lord Chancellor, the Earl of Lona-
dale, the Marquis of Salisbury, Mr. Secretary Walpole,
the Earl of Mulmesbury, Sir John Pakington, the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Duke of Northum-
berland, the Right Hon. J. W. Henley, the Earl of
Hardwieke, the Right Hon. J. C. Herries, and Lord
John Manners. The Council sat throe hours.
We hear that the address will he moved in the House
of L)rds by the Marquis of Bath. and will be seconded
by the Earl of Donou,;huanre.— Morning _Herald.

All the Stakes to-morrow are at present skeletons
The Matches, I have but little doubt, will be decided as
follow—Pelion, Bst 81b, will beat lonic, Bst 21b, T.Y.C.
Doublethong, Bst 81b, will dispose of Feramorz, Bst 61b,
A. F. The Knight of the Garter, Bst 71h, will beat Ilex,
7st 111 b, a mile and three-quarters. Miss Sarah, filly,
I think, will dispose of Eruestine; and a close race ma)
be expected between Caracara, Bst 71b, and Sackbut,
Bst 51b, D.M.—the former, not improbably, just obtain-
ing the beat of it.

THE SPIRI r OF THE TURF.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.

NEWMARKET HOUGHTON MEETING.

WEDNESDAY.

The last race to-day, of which we barely had time to
send off the result, was one of the most disgraceful attsirs
over concocted. The Moor and Trinket had bees pur-
chased in the morning by a Mr. Mytton, and a Mr.
Hughes (of Worcester), the two names, beyond all doubt,
representing ono interest. At the commencement of the
betting 5 to 2 and 2 to 1 was laid on the Moor, and a
good deal of money got on Euphony, and against Trinket,
at about 3 to 1 each, the majority of the bets, it is strongly
uspected, having been made for Messrs. M. and 11., and
parties connected with them. On its oozing out that the
Moor was not likely to have anything to do with the
race, he went out of the betting, and even money, and 5
to 4 was laid on Euphony, Trinket closing at 11 to 1.
rho Moor, instead of going to the post, galloped another
way; only Euphony and 'Trinket started, and the latter,
to the infinite horror of the plotters, won easily. Mad-
dened by his disappointment, Mr. Hughes rushed into
tao the weighing stand, snatched the saddle cloth out
of Crouch's hand, and declared that he should not weigh.
The jockey, and the clerk of the scales, however, were
cesolute—the former was weighed, and the latter kicked
Mr. 11. cut of the room. It was said after the race that
that the three horses were the property of Mr. S. Merry.
Phis be positively denied, and a written declaratio❑ to
that effect was posted by him in the subscription room
-Jo returning into the room, the clerk of the scales, Mr.
Manning., made a representation of the attempts to dis-
qualify Trinket to the stewards, who have ordered
witnesses to be is attendance tomorrow at eleven o'clock
THURSDAY'.

Handicap Sweepstakes of 15 soya. each, 10 ft, for two-
year-olds. D. IL
Lord Cliiden's Molas,ss, 6st 21b (rover) Walked over.
Match-100, h ft. First half of Ab.M.
Duke of Bedford's Hesperus, 8.4 7ib (F. Butler) 1
Mr. Hughes's Sophistry, 7st I lib (Flatman) 2
Betting—a to lon Hesperus.
Won by half a length. Run in 51 see.
Match-200, h ft; Bst 71b each. T.Y.C.
Duke of Bedford's Pensioner. (F. Butler) 1
Lord Chesterfield's Angelo (Flatman) 2
Betting-7 to 2on Angelo.
Won by three parts of a length. Run in 1 min. 21 see
Sweepstakes of 50 soya. each, h tt,:for two-year-olds ;
colts, Bst lib ; and fillies, Bst 41b. Ab. M.
Mr. Mare's Pharold (Charlton) 1
Mr. Howard's Nicotine (A. Day) 2
\lr. Payne's Glenavon (Flatman) 3
Lord Exeter's Cobnut
Betting-6 to son Glenavon, 5t02 on Nicotine, sto
1 agst Cobnut, and 10 to 1 sgst Pharold.
Pharold took the lead, made all the running, and won
by a length; a head between second and third. Run in
1 min. 5 sec.

Sweepstakes of 10 sous. each, for two-year-olds ; colts,
Bst 71b; fillies, 86t 41b. The winner to be sold for 40
soya., if dimunded. Last of Ab. M.
Mr. Listet's Plunkett (Kendall) 1
Lord Ciifden's Molasses
Mr. B. E. Olivet'fi f by Birdeateher out of Grace
Darling (Flatman) 3
Mr. Jaques'a Pitfall (Bartholomew) 0
Mr. Morris's Margaret of Anjou (%sham) 0
Mr. Moiklam's Ada, by Poynton (Tewpleman) 0
Betting-2 to 1 apt Greco Darling f, 4to 1 agat
Margaret of Anjou, 4 to 1 agst Ada, and 4.t0 1 aget

Plunkett, who was not rnentioncd in the betting, took
the lead immediately after starting, and won easily by
length; half a length between second and third. The
race wts not timed.

The Glasgow Stakes of 100 sous. each, h ft, for two-
year•old colts; Bst 71b each. Last three quarters of
Ur. Bowes's West Australian (F. Butler) 1
Lord Exeter's Filbert (Norman) 2
Mr. Payne's Speed the Plough (Flatman) 3
General Anson's c by Dun John, out of Potentia
(Rogerk) 4
Betting—Even on West Australian, and 6 to 4 agst
Speed the Plough.
West Australian and Filbert had the race to them-
selves, the former waiting to the top of the bushy bill,
and winning in a canter by two lengths, Run in 1 min.
18 see.

The play was followed by " Sweethearts and Wives."
Wright's Billy Lachaday kept the audience in repeated
peels of laughter, and the unique ditty of his disaster:,
was hilariously encored. Miss Carlotta Le Clercq looked
most charming as Laura, and played with delightful
spirit and expression. Mr. Addison as the gouty amo-
rous old admiral, and the other performers in their re•
spective parts acquitted themselvrs very well.
The house was moat fushinneblv end fully attended.

42t

Sill BUG WER LYTTON ON KNOi.VLEDGE,

The f'ellowing oratoieflge was dei:;:ored
by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart, on rinhurs-
dl.y, the 21it inst., before a nurnerous end disqnguit.hed
audicnes7, upon the oceamion of a Literary Sone-) held at
Ilan Town-hall et Elntiord:
_.

Sir EDWARD In rising was 3received with hearty and
long continued cheering: when this heel subsided no said
• t• Ledies and Gontlemen,—When my worthy friend
the'Meyor kindly accompanied me thre ugh yonder ad-
joining room, aril inferined me that it was your Muni-
cipal Council; when 1 beheld on its table, amidst so
teeny objects of interest and art, the mace and charters
of your Corporation; when I called to mind that that
chamber was devoted to the prac:icel business of your
town, and saw it now filled for the purpose of embellish-
ing cur ordinary work-day existence with the charms of
literature, and the graceful it.fluences of art, I fdt that
the soli ction of our pllce of meetin4 was a recognirien of
this important truth; that no object can more worthily
engege the prtweic il attention of a community of fr.,e-
IDOYI —no purpose can more dignify their eounc.l-mall
than Lhe noble endeavour to cement the union between
political liberty and ite ellectual improvement. (Cheers.)
I em not going to intl. et on you a long harangue on the
advantages of knowledge, those advantages are too gib
vious and the aiihjiaat too hacluied. ladeed, I think it
is the fault of our age amongst men of all parties and all
sects, not to underrate the value of diffusing information
through the medium of popular libraries and institutes,
but rather to anticipate too exaggerated results from the
were appetite tor knowledge; forgetting that it is not
the eagerness of the appetite, but the soutoluess of the
digestion which conduces to health and vigour. (Hear.
hear.) And if I might presume to offer an admonitory
suggestien to those fur whose benefit popular libraries
and institutes are chiefly designed, it would be to remind
them that knowledge is infinite, while all that the must
assiduous can acquire is so limited, that the true student
finds his humility increase in proportion as his informa-
tion expands. (Cheers.) Well, then, you go with me '
thus far; go with me further still—when I add that if'
there be anything which may occasion anxiety or appre-
hension to a sober judgment, in that demand for general
intellectual culture which makes the remarkable attri-
bute of our times; it is not the fear of knowledge itself,
but it is that pompous and inflated boast of our own su-
p rior enlightenment, which is too often addressed to our
vanity by those who find is an easier and more popular
task to flatter us than to counsel. (Hear, hear.) Know-
ledge and liberty are alike in this, and they, in them-
selves, are never formidable except to their enemies, but
that the nonsense which has been talked about them, is
often very alarming and very discouraging to their best
friends. Knowledge and liberty are designed to be the '
safeguards and the directors of our social system—
(hear, hear)—yoa approve that definition? Pardon then,
a very homely illustration. We do not fear the watch
dog while he guards the fold and directs the flock, but
we look vt him with very great suspicion when we meet
him foaming at the mouth, and rattled out of his wits by
the noise of a tin canister tied to his tail. (Cheers and
laughter.) Look for instance to our neighbours the French
—for the last eighty years they have made such a clat-
ter about all the grand results to be expected from liberty
and enlightenment, that enlightenment and liberty have
been frightened away by the din (cheers), and men in
that country now seem rather disposed to get rid of the
watchdogs altogether, than to run the risk of having
them driven into madness by the hollow clang of that
everlasting canister. (Much laughter and applause). Let
us, then, take knowledge as our own great Newton took
it, with a profound conviction that we are humble mor-
tals, of the same six° and stature as our ancestors, and it
we appear taller, it is because we climb upon their shoul-
ders. (Hear). Lot us gratefully heed every clue which
their resources have bequeathed to us, and let us
modestly confess that much which we now claim as a
certainty, our children may detect as an error (bear)
You remember, perhaps, those beautiful words which
Newton uttered at the close of a life, illustrious for the
most splendid triumphs in the sublimest sphere of phi-
losophy—" I feel (said he) like a child by the seashore,
who has picked up a few stray shells and curious peb-
bles on the sand, while the great ocean of Truth lay all
undiscovered around." And indeed Newton himself is
a striking example how finite a man is, and how infinite
knowledge, for Newton estimated the fixed stars at
3,000, and when Dr. Hersehell had completed his great
telescope, how many fixed stars do you think passed
across its field iu one short quarter of an hour ? Two
hundred and fifty thousand! (Hear, hear). It is the same
in all things. We of this generation cannot conjecture
the number of lights which the Creator may vouchsafe
to the next. (Hear, hear). Now from what I have raid
in caution against presumption, and too overweening a
conceit in what we of to-day call knowledge, and what
they of to-morrow may call but partial ignorance,—do
not consider that I desire to damp your generous ardour,
or that I deny, I will not boldly say the advantages, but
the moral duty and the social wisdom of bringing within
the reach of all classes of our countrymen that world
of books which teaches us that there aro other enjoy-
ments besides those of the senses. (Applause). For if we
regard books in their effect upon the individual, the soul
can scarcely be said to feel its own diviner nature until
is is made aware how thought can exist independently
of the body. (Cheers). The moment we enter that world
of books the body rests, thought awakens. The soul can
then traverse swifter than light from pole to pole, bring
before it all the ages of the past, and unfettered by time
and space, strengthen and developo the powers which
prove its own essence to be immaterial and immortal
(Applause). And if we regard the effect of knowledge
in a social point of view, why the wealth of a nation does
not depend upon the fertility of its soil, the treasures of
its mines, the extent cf its dominions, but en the ag-
gregate of the intelligence possessed by its people. It is
intelligence that tills the soil, works the mine, directs
the ship, invents the machine, and suggests those laws
which unite the harmony of order with the energies of
freedom. (Much cheering). And as the material
wealth of a nation is always greatest where wealth
is least hoarded by the few—so that capital of in-
telligence from which material wealth is produced,
expands in proportion to the width of the surface
over which it is diffused (Applaus:). It is, there-
fore, our duty as individuals, to afford, as far we can, as
to every human soul facilities for its own developement;
and it is our interest, as a community, to increase and
circulate that fund of ideas from which even our physi-
cal comforts are derived, and by which this small island
of ours silently maintains an empire immeasurably more
vast than the mines of Peru could assure to the kings of
Spain, or their myriads of unlettered serfs can bestow
on the autocrats of Russia. (Loud cheers.) And it is
the consciousness how much the history of the human
mind is, in modern times, identified with the history of
England that induces me earnestly to advise all those
who intend to profit by the facilities for instruction af-
forded by this town of Hertford, to make the history of
their own country a fundamental part of their studitte.
History is, indeed, a study which well becomes the men
of our own times. For those times are embroiled by the
perpetual strife between ancient forms and novel ideas ;
and history, calmly and impartially road, is the safest
arbiter between wise experiments and hazardous innova-
tions. (Applause.) We can scarcely judge soundly of
any of the questions upon which we aro divided, by •dry
maxims and positive assertions picked up from the jour-
nals of the day, and which would reduce the complicated
art of statesmanship to abstract propositions of Euclid.
It is only by a careful examination of the past that we
can estimate the influence of events on the destinies of 1
the future But of all history, that of our own coun-
try is obviously the most useful to Englishmen.
And I am happy to recommend to your notice a work
recently published, which comprises all that can give in-
terest and profit to a mere chronicle of events. I speak
I of the Pictorial History of England, published by Mr.
1 Charles Knight. Have you got it in your library ?
(Mr. Crawley: Yes.] Well, in this work you will find
chapters devoted in each great era to the progressive
state of arts, literature, science, commerce, manners,
laws and religion; and in short, all that completes the
record of British civilization. I should say that the
leaning of this history is to what is called the popular
aide of the question, but all histories lean to one side or
the other, and this (at least as far as I have examined it)
is seldom grossly partial, and never wilfully distorts
facts or misquotes authorities in support of its view!.
Still it is one-sided—and a manly understanding in
search of truth will not be contented to form its judgment
upon partial evidence. Therefore in the more disputable
political eras, I advise you to turn to the page of Hume,
and see what can be said by a philosophical reasoner on
the other side of the question; and even where you differ
from Hume most, and with most justice, you will be in
company with a writer who will increase and refine your
knowledge of your own language, by the charms of a
stale perfectly matchless for nervous simplicity and lucid
precision. If the recommendation I thus adventure should
find favour in your eyes, I shall be very happy to offer a
prize to such student, belonging to one of your literary
societies, who shall pass the best examination in some
selected period of our history, comprising views of the
progressive triumphs of those glorious forefathers,
whose legacies have been a literature more splendid
than that of Greece; an empire more colossal than
that of Rome ; and a political constitution which still
towers aloft in majestic se mmetry, because the depth of
its foundation has allowed for additions to its structure.
(" Bravo," and enthusiastic and long continued applause.)
I shall detain you no longer, for I do not consider that
we are met here to listen to long speeches, but rather to
mix wi!hi soh other in social and friendly intercourse; to
forget for awhile the local contests that have. latelyliters
agitated both town and county, and to enjoy
titre what politics has not yet succeeded indbesitnowing—
fraternity.
the polished commonwealth of equality
(Much cheering.) I must, however, congnradantoualpattievayt
the various objects that aeuthaen
please the
eye Ia must
taste which you have got togethesrt.
an .
moatpopular
congratu-
late you especially on the brightest and
ornament of all, the presence ofso
interest in whatever
an ladies. (Cheers.)
Indeed they do wisely to take.
tends to secure their own legitimate
man—nothing
more endears the fireside r
ruder sex. Nothing more
domesticates
remount
ttohethheanbriitgsianndnftaslittecsrn.ot
literature. And if we
lure in all countries, wo must ascribe it to that sentiment
which woman inspires and refines i for literature has
ever commenced with petry, and a great German
writer
has happily said, "that the earliest poet must
have been the earliest lover. (C eers.) Gentlemen,
I shall now conclude by reading toh you the discrimi-
nating words by which Bacon has prefaced and enforced
the sentiment, which I have undertaken to convey.
' The greatest error of all is the mistaking or misplacing
of the last or farthest end of knowledge, as if there
were sought in knowledge a couch whereupon to rest a
searching and restless spirit ; or a terrace for a wander-
ing and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair
prospect ; or a tower of state for a proud mind to raise
itself upon ; or a fort or commanding ground for strife
and contention, or a shop for profit or sale. And not
(mark the words that follow and define the true end o
knowledge, and as such 1 recommend it to you)—a 60
storehouse for the glory of the Creator and the relief o
men's estate." (Prolongued and enthusiastic cheering.;