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

rHE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENIN(4, MAY 1, ma,

topics than military exploits. I cannot say that I its devoted admirers will rejoice in expressing the de-
regret this, for of course whatever conduces to the light they experience year by year in witnessing the
happiness and prosperity of this country must fresh triumphs it achieves—(cheers)—hoW, by its creative
always be most acceptable to the service to which I power, it embodies in form and colour the facts of history
belong. It is not our wish to see wars engaged in ; and the fictions of poetry, adding a fresh charm by the
'c touches of the pencil to graphic na of the
on the contrary, it is our business to try and avert one, to the thoughts that breathte and words that burn of the
the calamities of war, and if we can succeed in that other ; how it commits to the canvas in faithful and glowing
respect I flatter myself we perform our duty as colours the stirring events of our own days (pointing to Mr.
successfully, and are as much entitled to the good Frith's picture of the Royal Academy) —how it commemo-
raeffteertaswie'tfh inarvkindreedllogusenfpoweeffreanrtedwmahitechhlwe
opinion of our countrymen as if we performed ourgrae
se
sr
e once daythe toearly be duty gallantly on the field of battle. (Cheers.)
/ crowned by an undying celebrity (pointing to Mr. Phillips's
But besides this, I trust I am not mistaken in sup- picture of Murillo as a youth) ; how with its mute eloquence
posing that the artists of this country have a real it can raise the soul to devout aspirations, as we gaze on the
affection for the service with which lam associated, saints and seers of Sacred Writ, rapt in holy:meditation (re-
forming, as they do, one of those Volunteer corps ferrin. g to Leighton's " David") ; how its present efforts
greatwillm andtime to
good comewh
orecall,ar
which have just been mentioned from the chair.moreerxttboitlinifeg atend actiofutnthe
e no
gene-
(Cheers.) lam happy to find that the Artists Corps rations the mind and character revealed in the lineaments
have been in no respect reduced either in number and expression of the countenance ; how it presents to the
or efficiency—(cheers)—and I feel persuaded imagination &any a moving incident of real or fictitious
that while they have on this and many other life, which kindles our sympathy with the joys and sorrows
obligations
ourfellowfo-rmwenh.icCh wheeacers.)owTlehdese,e
ourselves
other occasions with their peaceful arms deliare -
elvessodmebetoofrsihtoe
neated so agreeably the representations of various the
members of the Royal Academyg and their associates ;
kinds which we see around us on these walls, and I know not that we can find any more appropriate way
they would with their warlike arms be prepared to of repaying that debt on the present occasion than by the
grasp the rifle and the bayonet, and do good service offering of our fervent wishes for the continued and in-
to their country, should the hour of need arrive. creasing prosperity of the Royal Academy. (Cheers.) May
(Cheers.) I trust, however, that hour of need will
and
smissi
thonee heartver be, as it has
charms
in times past, to touch
not arrive, and that it will be the good fortune of
he
teache
creations while
it st
heeyto subservetroug
thencause of morality and religion, by awakening through
the army and navy to do the fighting part without of genius on the canvas such pure emotions
the assistance of the Volunteers. I sincerely hope and such elevating thoughts as may delight while they im..
we may often have the pleasure of seeing them in prove the beholder. (Cheers.) I request you all to accept
the toast of L 6 Prosperity to the Royal Academy," and to
their military capacity, but that their duties may be
confined to the peaceful position of Brighton or the
drink tot the health of Sir Charles Eastlake, who so ably
rs
)worthily pre-
extended battlefield of Wimbledon-common.
principlestution of
his art,
chanee
and so
(Cheers and a laugh.) siddimte es overs thethis institution.
The PRESIDENT, after duly ackowledging for himself and
The Duke of SOMERSET--It is my duty and plea- colleagues the honour conferred on the Academy, said,—lt
sure to reply on this occasion for the honour you is most desirable that these recurring exhibitions should
have done to her Majesty's navy. It is true, as his keep pace with and confirm the public feeling at present
so strongly manifested in favour of the fine arts, and the
royal highness has already said, that in these days
neither the army nor the navy are called upon for
observations. to which we have had the pleasure of listen-
thosemg justify the conclusion that such is the case. Those
great exertions which in former times they have
observations, the general estimate of the exhibition, the
performed, and which again they will perform when allusions to particular works, and the reflections suggested
duty calls upon them to do so. But whenever the by them, must have been gratifying alike to the friends and
opportunity has been afforded—whenever the navy the professors of art. Our regret from time to time is that has had occasion to be employed, as lately in New we miss the productions of those who had long contributed I
Zealand, in Japan, and I might add in the River to the. attractions of the annual display. On the present
tive. andblecameJohn toW aft; Plate, where one of our finest vessels was suddenly sono Gonrdwe
on, w.ss
hotsheeacportraitsoou red of
lißfeir
enveloped in conflagration—the officers and men close soon after our last meeting. More recently we have
have shown that they retain that high character of had to deplore the loss of David Roberts. His pictures are so
courageottention to discipline, and ready obedience familiar that it is quite unnecessary for me to speak of their
which have enabled them in former times, and in merits ; but whoever has had an opportunity of seeing the
exhibition of his drawings which has recently taken place will
more serious conflicts to uphold the honour of the
British name and win for themselves the enthusiastic probablyheaxviaetecnoneeceeifvaedl a steillprheipeghrterienideefa
tohfathsiseripoeswers.
was The very
admiration of their countrymen. (Cheers.) I will scarcely known to his intimate friends, so unostentatious was
not trespass on your time by dwelling on the merits the artist's character, so genuine his love of art for its own
of the navy. It may be true, I think it is, that the sake. (Cheers:) Of living Academicians, it is not to be sup-
navy has not of late done much for the arts, and I posed that all who are absent from these walls have not
am afraid that the vessels we now build will not be beendzeinalothuselyraelmaepeloLed.eaStommine,ataesr isanwdelll
tkankoewthnieare en:
very decorative on your walls. (A laugh.) But they
gaged
of announcing that Mr. Maclise has just completed°Plr
tell me it all depends on the proper education of the there another of those gigantic works which, I cannot re-
eye--(a laugh)—and if you will but educate your eye frain from saying, will contribute to immortalize his name.
lam in hopes that even these square-looking dark (Cheers.) With regard to the present exhibition, as the in-
things without any masts may still be the objects creased employment of art necessarily increases the number
of your admiration. But it will, I fear, require a of exhibitors, so it involves the painful impossibility of ac-
great deal of education. (A laugh.) In the mean-
eaconmdimdaodteatainfegrian
ace.
plrteseianntnanpaeertezternytstealdlwtheellmeenrittohLioteuse
while, without further trespassing on your time, familiar difficulty, a remedy for which will, we trust, in
allow me to thank you for the honour you have done time be provided. I have to propose, as the next toast, the
me in connecting my name with the Navy. (Cheers.) health of a nobleman and a statesman who, in the midst of
Viscount BURY—It has become the habit of late political cares and duties, has ever been duly sensible of the
years to associate the toast of the Volunteers with publich advantages gdes which the cultivation of the fine arts,
the Army and Navy. It may be that in times to tees
parerapeee
~
TheuHcaetaliotnh,
ofca Eari
narl confer.l elf.”hajcehteheereh.)onour
come, if the Volunteers, as I sincerely hope they Earl ThessEnt—l have to thank you, Sir Charles, for the
will, continue to form part of the defences of Eng- honour you have done in proposing my health. Had my
land, they will, as a matter of course, be associated noble friend Lord Palmerston been here I have no doubt
with the twoservices ; but now, almost in the infancy you would have drunk his health in connection with the
of that force, no Volunteer worthy of the name can
indisposition
you have justgtir
tihi, andtl.fionl regiriet thattshome slight
hear the toast proposed without being reminded Hen:Peed:las wephavve all experienced, ion' thise mo
occasion eWxrh-
that it is only by the kindness of the company that respect to myself I may say I have had the honour of an in-
they are so associated. I should, perhaps, speak vitation for some 40 or 50 years to your meetings, and it
with rather more humility on the present occasion has always given me the greatest pleasure in being able to
as a Volunteer if it were not that his Royal High- attend this anniversary. I have every year derived great
ness the Commander-in-Chief has already reminded delighttime,
I must
minwit
eatnessin your achievements
long
; .n
,ateallowed
thesame
you that the Artists' Corps forms part, not the
me I have almoyst thatevery yegar h
had thge emxiPsefonrtune to miss
least distinguished, of the Volunteer force of the some favourite artist, and thus to mix regret with the en-
metropolis. (Cheers.) I have myself had that dis- joyment which I have received. You have mentioned one
tinguished corps under my command, and I cannot now nolonger among uswhoml used to congratulate every
tell you how exceedingly proud a " vain man dressed year on the merits of his pictures. I refer to the late much
in a little brief authority" must feel in being able resizitnedofDEallhußro7b:rtess.lle(dCiht ee.rss :)owSnirroWinsalntteicr
toSwcontt:,
to order the members of such a corps, animated It tastge was first employed there, but from the colours in
with the love of nature, or with a pretty girl on the which ho showed London I may say he had given us a
line of march to look straight forward. (A laugh.) right to apply that epithet to London. (Cheers.) Among the
I cannot but remember, with that melancholy satis- pictures I have seen to-day there is one that could not fail
faction with which we look back on the merest to strike me, particularly as you have drunk the health of
trifles connected with those who are gone, that that I mean h
the mosttreevieatnudrigdehaterriev. prinelatthese wchatao arele uneowaspf,es4enneet—n
distinguished artist whose name has become his- Elizabeth's rpr re
oothache." (A laugh.) [Theg scene is taken
torical—l mean John Leech—was a volunteer— from the "Lives of the Queens of England," and represents
(cheers)—and that I had the honour to teach him the determination of the Queen to resist the extraction of a
the goose step. (A laugh.) His Royal Highness tooth, till Aylmer, Bishop of London, stood forth, and told
has said that he hopes our Volunteer force will her that although an old man and not having many teeth to
always confine its efforts to the bloodless fields of Fit
fp
sahr es ,
wouldsh e shtohu le
ere
seeh
bea e practical experiment of ittohn himself,
Brighton and Wimbledon. I, too, trust that will be
extracted one of hyis teeth,uamngdethe Queeenu'pseuunwillsiurngngeeesus
the case, but we must remember that the Volunteers was ultimately overcome.] I compared that with another
are Englishmen, and in whatever capacity they are picture I see before me, named in the Catalogue as " The
called on to do their duty they will do it. (Cheers.) Connoisseurs." One would have expected to see under such
The PRESIDENT—Gentlemen of the Royal Aca- a title two or three very shrewd-looking gentlemen disposed
demy, the toast which I have now the honour to to tell the artist, according to Goldsmith's well known story,
propose, and which I give in the form prescribed of thataketntmheerpeicpaturinee,meirghmtakhianve been much better
ofs thathetterifkind.
had
old, is << The health of the noblemen and gentlemen But instead of that I was muchgsome
surprised to see two dogs
who this day honour the Academy with their pre- looking over Sir Edwin Landseer's shoulders, as if criticis-
sence." (Cheers.) Whatever may be the station ing the picture he is drawing. (A laugh.) From the obser-
or the profession of those to whom we now desire to vation of these two pictures a gentleman was led to remark
offer the expression of our respect, we are entitled to that it was much better tombe one of Sir Edwin Lanseer's
regard them all as well-wishers to the fine arts—a dogs than
eovinedeonf tQI yu Queen
ns
the
taste taste for which is, happily, compatible with every and happiness of his dogs. (Cheers and laughter.) But I
position and with every occupation. As represen- will not trespass on your time by further remarks. I beg
tatives of the still increasing class of cultivated again to express my admiration of this institution, and my
amateurs, we owe them renewed acknowledgments, thanks for the honour you have done me. (Cheers.)
for to their favour, whether evinced by the direct ThePRE sipLe" list— before
Wi
tho
me,
eI adhering to the strict order of
encouragement of the fine arts or by an enlightened the toasts in the
" The Interests of Literature." Thisw toast,accompanied
now
beg
to
propose
by
interest in their progress and applications, the pre-
our emphatic acknowledgment of the debt which art has
sent widely-spread feeling for art among all classes ever owed and will ever owe to letters, comprehends a large
is greatly to be ascribed. (Cheers.) That favour proportion of the distinguished personages here assembled.
may be said to have been manifested of late years Many of those who deign to be our guests, and who have
in one sense more distinctly, producing correspond-
earned great literary success, are renowned in the Senate;
ing beneficial results. The time was when appre-
others are conspicuous ornaments of the Church or of the
learned professions. In the practice of the formative arts
ciation of the fine arts, though displaying itself in there is generally a decided line of demarcation between
many substantial forms, was rarely indicated by any the professional artist and the amuteur. In letters it is not
open avowal. The very earnestness of a predilec- so—there are no amateur writers. All literary candidates
tion is sometimes opposed to a public confession. for fame come before the public on nearly equal terms, and
The friends of art seem to have looked upon it much the consequence is that the author by profession has not
as Goldsmith regarded his love of poetry, which he
only the whole world to please, but the whole educated
describes as—
world to contend with. In selecting a representative at

My shame in crowds, my solitary pride."
This reticence has given way to a sense of duty, and
on occasions when public utility has been the all-
sufficient motive for departing from it. The change
to which I allude has been chiefly brought about by
the application of the fine arts to what is called in-
dustrial art, and more especially in schools of de-
sign ; for, by a natural reaction, the tangible uses
of art again invite attention to its more refined
adaptations. (Cheers.) Many a nobleman, many
a member of Parliament, and some whom we have
the honour to see here to-day, have, at various
times, felt it incumbent on them, in support-
ing such schools, to address very mixed audiences
on subjects connected with the arts of design ; and,
although on such occasions the ostensible object has
been to further the tasteful improvement of manu-
factures, the speakers have not unfrequently been
led to enlarge on the purposes of art in a wider sense,
and by recommending the study of nature and of
works which nature :has inspired they have at once
stimulated industry and awakened a taste for rational
enjoyments. (Cheers.) These duties, considered as
possible means of promoting the public welfare and
material and moral improvement of many, have been
readily undertaken by distinguished and disinterested
individuals; and there can be no doubt that such
intercourse has, of late years, been a prominent cause
of the progress of the general public in the intelli-
gence and enjoyment of the fine arts. I give you
the health of the noblemen and gentlemen who have
honoured us with their presence this evening.
(Cheers.)
The Archbishop of CANTERBURY said—Sir C. Eastlake,
your Royal Highness, my Lords, and Gentlemen—l desire
to tender, in my own name, and in behalf of all those who
have been privileged to be your guests on the present occa-
sion, our cordial thanks for the honour you have thus done
us in proposing our health. It is, indeed, a privilege which
we justly prize, as I think may be clearly evinced by the
response which is annually made, sir, to your call, and by
the unfailing assemblage of the heads of the Church, of
the most distinguished ornaments of the legal and other
professions, of the foremost men in literature, in science
and art, to partake of your brilliant hospitality. (Cheers.)
We gather around you, sir, to bear our willing homage to
genius, and to testify our gratitude for its splendid results
as exhibited on these walls. (Cheers.) This is not the
time at which to enter on any lengthened disquisition
on the art of painting, but it is the occasion on which all

once from the aristocracy of intellect and the aristocracy of
rank, I am therefore not departing from the catalogue of
public contributors to the literary attractions of our time.
In connection with the toast I have the honour to propose
the health of a nobleman who has solaced the intervals
of important and useful public labours by a happy in-
tercourse with the greatest poet of antiquity. I have the
honour to propose " The health of the Earl of Derby."
(Loud cheers.)
The Earl of DERBY, who was loudly cheered, said—Sir
Charles Eastlake, my Lords, and gentlemen, to the great
majority of those who are honoured with invitations to
attend this anniversary festival, it is one not of the least at-
tractions that we can enjoy the company and feast presented
to our eyes without being called upon to perform any part of
the ceremony ourselves—(a laugh)—and, with the exception
perhaps of those members of the Government called on to
return thanks in some official capacity, or those connected
with some of those societies which this illustrious Academy
delights to honour on this and other occasions, your other
guests come with the happy consciousness that they may
enjoy in silence that which is presented to them. (A laugh.)
It was in that happy;conviction that I came here this even-
ing, and I must say I never was more taken aback than
when, immediately after we sat down to dinner, you, Sir
Charles, informed me of the cruel kindnessyou had destined
for me. (Cheers.) I confess I had at the moment a very strong
disposition to be seized with a sudden and violent indisposi-
tion—(a laugh)—for I felt myself very much as if I were
the wrong man in the wrong place—(cheers)—in return-
ing thanks for such a toast ; and when I looked around me
and saw so many who are identified with general literature,
with literature in the various walks of fiction, poetry, his-
tory, science, and divinity, I certainly felt that you had
committed what indeed is not a frequent circumstance with
you, a great error in judgment, in calling on me to return
thanks in the name of literature. (Cheers.) Why, Sir
Charles, I really feel, and I am sure those I am addressing
must feel, that I have no claim to respond for the literature
of the country, any more than any person might have a
claim to be admitted to the distinguished honour of belong-
ing to this Academy on the sole pretension of having pro-
duced one single copy, however faithful, of one of the great
masters. (Cheers.) It is true I have had before me in that
great work to which you have done me the honour of
alluding a masterpiece of art. And if it be true that ut
picturapoesis—if it bo true that poetry is word-painting and
painting is visible poetry, then I think I may venture to
claim for that great original I have endeavoured to copy,
that he was among the greatest painters of any country in
the world. (Loud cheers.) For, let me ask you and this
assembly what are the great qualities which aro required
to form a distinguished Ninter ? First, I apprehend, they
are fidelity to nature, a genuine appreciation of the beauties
of nature—a vivid imagination—a correct and anatomical
knowledge of the formation of the human frame—a correct

and almost equally anatomical knowledge of all the express-
along, feelings, and passions of the human mind—a correct-
ness of outline—boldness of touch—a vividness of colour-
ing—a judicious distribution of light and shade ; and, the
great quality of all others, in grouping the subjects toge-
ther, so to arrange your groups that each individual figure
should possess its own characteristic merit and position,
and yet all unite to concentrate the eye and attention on
the great central and principal figure of the group. (Cheers.)
Now, if these are really the characteristics of painting, I
claim for Homer that in no age and no country has any
painter surpassed the infinite variety of his achievements.
It is not in one branch alone, but it is in historical paint-
ing, in landscape, I may say even in portrait painting, he
stands almost unrivalled in each and every one of them.
(Cheers.) If he desires to bring before you an extended
group of gods, or warriors, or chieftains in debate, he pre-
sents a variety and individuality among them that would
create the envy of a Maclise, a Herbert, or a Frith. If he
desires to represent the ocean in its milder or stormier cha-
racters by a few rapid touches, he produces a sketch a
Stanfield might look on with envy. If he paints a vine-
yard or harvest home, he bathes the landscape in a flood of
light which a Linnell would hardly venture to emulate.
And, passing to the wilder features of rural life, the repre-
sentation of the passions and contests of the brute crea-
tion, if he attempts to describe a lion springing at and
striking down a bull in the midst of a herd, or a wounded
boar turning on his pursuers, or a pack of wolves
with blood-stained jaws lapping with their lean tongues
the cool surface of some dark-watered fountain, or a
wounded panther writhing itself up the spear that has
transfixed her in order to reach her assailant, the few
touches which Homer gives bring before the mental eye the
whole scene with a life and vigour which could hardly be
equalled by an Ausdell or surpassed by a Landseer. (Cheers.)
He must be cold indeed—he must be insensible to all the
beauties of poetic language, who could sit down and study
and endeavour to imbue himself with the spirit of such an
original, without catching some faint emanation of its spirit.
I only wish it could have been in my power by language to
represent to the mass of my fellow countrymen the grace,
simplicity, and power of the original, with as much power,
as much classical talent, and as much ability, as have im-
mortalised the illustrations of Homer by Flaxman. (Cheers.)
But I feel how unequal I have been to the task I had un-
dertaken. (Cheers.) I doubt not there may be among those
whom I have _ the honour to address many who in earlier

days sat down before some great masterpiece of art and de-
termined, not servilely to copy each line which they saw
before them, but to fill themselves with the full perception
of its beauties, and when, after devoting days and weeks
and months to a faithful copy of the great work they had
set before them, it had been completed amid the applause
of the public and the congratulations of friends, their own
feeling of internal consciousness told them how far short
they had come to the original, what an immense distance
there was between their best efforts and the work they had
before them. (Cheers.) Most unaffectedly such are the
views with which I look back on those efforts of mine,
which you have been pleased to honour with approval this
night. (Cheers.) But while feeling how unworthy I am to
receive the compliment you have paid me in this presence
and on this occasion, I need hardly say how deeply and
gratefully I feel the honour which has been conferred on
me by this distinguished assembly. (Loud and continued
cheering.)
The PRESIDENT—Great exertions have been made by the
various committees connected with the Dublin International
Exhibition to render that display worthy of the occasion,
and those exertions have, I am happy to learn, hitherto
been most successful. As on the occasion of the last Great
Exhibition in London, pictures, as well as other works of
art, will form part of the attractions ; the materials of the
kind which have been brought together have been carefully
selected, and they will, I am confident, greatly contribute
to the interest of the Exhibition. I take this opportunity
of inviting the cordial co-operation of all present in the
promotion of a great and useful undertaking, and in con-
nection with the toast—" Success to the Dublin Interna-
tional Exibition," I beg to propose "The Health of Lord
Naas." (Cheers.)
Lord NAAS—It is quite true that great difficulties were
experienced in the first attempt to establish the Dublin Ex-
hibition, but I am happy to say that owing to generous sup-
port they received, not only from this country but from
various parts of Europe, the success of the undertaking
may become, indeed, almost certain, and it will not only be
productive of great benefit to the country generally in
which it stands, but redound to the credit of those whd
have contributed to its success. If any of this distinguished
company will honour us with their presence, we shall give
them a most hearty welcome. (Cheers.)

The PRESIDENT—WO are on this occasion honoured and
gratified with the presence of a celebrated traveller, Dr.
Livingstone, whose enterprises in Africa in the cause of
civilisation and humanity have often engaged the public
attention, and have always excited the deepest interest. I
am happy to have an opportunity of proposing his health,
and of wishing him all success at a time when, as I hear,
he is about to proceed on his third African expedition.
(Cheers.)
Dr. LIVINGSTONE briefly acknowledged the toast.
Tho PnEsiDENT—The toad .71) ieh I have now tho honour
to propose is, "Prosperity to the City of London, and the
Health of the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor." (Cheers.) A
connection is always assumed to exist between success in
commerce, with its consequent wealth, and the progress of
the fine arts. If we look for indications of the latter in the
City of London we shall doubtless find abundant evidence
of a disposition to encourage all the arts ; but the progress
referred to will perhaps be chiefly recognised in architecture,
which is, in every sense, the best foundation for such appli-
cations of wealth. Whatever may be the success of the pro-
posed improvements of the metropolis it should always be
remembered that the city of London, properly so called, was
at an early period zealously active in the same sense,and it
must be admitted with very satisfactory results. (Cheers.)
The LORD MAYOR—I thank you, Sir Charles Eastlake, jl
for the compliment you have paid to the city of London by
inviting me as its chief magistrate to be present at thismag-
nificent banquet, and the honour you have conferred onme
by drinking my health. Having from early life been occu-
pied in commercial pursuits, I have had but little opportu-
nity to devote the time I should have wished to the more re-
fined and elevating studies of literature and the arts. But
I should be insensible indeed to all the pleasures of taste and
the manifestations of genius if I could look around these
walls without feeling the highest gratification in seeing such
noble works of art. The citizens of London are to a great
extent immersed in mercantile engagements, yet some there
are who happily find time to cultivate and means to encou-
rage the arts and sciences. I may be allowed to say that I
have not myself been altogether unsuccessfully occupied in
the promotion of education, and my name may be remem-
bered by my fellow citizens and those that come after me.
(Cheers.) Reference has been made to the city in connexion
with architecture. The public cannot but be pleased to
witness the erection of buildings for commercial purposes
that may vie with palaces. I heartily wish that art and
science may continue to flourish together ; and I sit down,
again thanking you for the honour you have done me by
drinking my health. (Cheers.)
The PRESIDENT—I have now to give " The Interests of
Science and the Health of the distinguished President of
the Royal Society, General Sabine." Notwithstanding the
apparent diversity between the truths of science and the
arts that are addressed to the imagination, the experienced
artist well knows that his representations, if conveying the
impression at which he aims, always suppose a thorough
acquaintance with the characteristics of form. He well
knows that in imitation generally the stamp of truth, which
science can so well assist, enables him more powerfully to
address the general spectator and more effectually to attain
the higher objects of art. Fully impressed with the value
of this aid he desires on all fitting occasions to repeat his
obligations to scientific professors, and to renew his alle-
giance to science itself. (Cheers.)

satisfaction which his superintendence had afforded.
(Cheers.)

Mr. TirE, M.P.—I feel called on to acknowledge this
toast from my long connexion with the Institute, and having
had the honour of being President for two years before the
election of my excellent friend Professor Donaldson. The
Professor's absence is caused by incidents which have some
bearing on the position of architecture in England. I allude
to the examination of some proposed improvements in ono
of the great cities of Southern Italy. Whether the Italians
think it desirable to consult English architects or not, it is
clear they are much enamoured of English capital. (A
laugh.) In the very moderate space allotted this year to
architecture in these rooms there appeared a beautiful de-
sign by Banks and Barry, now erecting in Turin by the
International Financial Society (Limited)—(a laugh)—but
this speculation seems extensive enough to constitute a
new town. At Milan, also, great improvements are being
carried out by English money, and if not under the direc-
tion, certainly under the advice of English architects. I
think my right hon. friend the Lord Mayor will join me in
the wish that some of the spare capital of these companies
should be applied to long required improvemnnts in Lon-
don itself. With reference to the position of architecture
in England, I consider it far from satisfactory. The In-
stitute has done much for architectural learning and
teaching, but architecture is, unfortunately, more exposed
to the caprices of fashion than any other art, and the
fashion seems recently to have set in in favour of the pret-
tinesses of mediaeval architecture, rather than the more
dignified teachings of the great models of antiquity, and
the sublime conceptions of Greece, Rome, and Italy. In
my own somewhat long experience in the profession I have
now quitted 1 have seen three distinct changes in the public
taste in architecture ; but in the drawings exhibited this
year I think I see some evidence of a further change.
Whether that be so or not, I cannot but consider some of
the works exhibited as showing a revival of excellent
Italian architecture, and none more so than in the "Piazzo
St,atuto" at Turin.—(Cheers.)
The company then separated.

General SABINE briefly acknowledged the compliment.
The PRESIDENT—I have now to give " The Society of
Antiquaries, the National Portrait Gallery, and the Health
of Earl Stanhope, the distinguished chairman of both those
institutions."( Cheers.) The professors of the arts of design
owe much to archaeology and the researohes of the Society
of Antiquaries; they also gratefully recognise the advan-
tage of ready access to the portraits of celebrated indivi-
duals not unfrequently introduced in painting and sculp-
ture; and their best acknowledgments are due to his
lordship for his enlightened attention to the objects of
those institutions and for rendering the studies they pro-
mote subservient to historical accuracy in works of art.
(Cheers.)

Earl STANHOPE returned thanks. He believed that, as
Sir Charles Eastlake had said, the pursuits of the Society of
Antiquaries might on some occasions do good service to
the interests of art. Whenever, indeed, it was required to
portray a scene of former days, there could be no approach to
fidelity of representation without some study of the attire,
the buildings, and the customs of the period. On one occa-
sion he remembered that one of the most gifted artists whom
this country had ever produced—his friend the late Sir
David Wilkie—had shown him and some other persons the
first sketch of a picture which he was designing—namely,
the passage of Mont St. Bernard by the first Napoleon.
But in this sketch, excellent as it was in all other
respects, Wilkie had represented the First Consul,
as he stood with some monks before the hospice fire,
with the star of the Legion of Honour, while, in fact, that
order of merit was not founded till more than three years
from that time. No blame could attach to Wilkie for that

little oversight, since, instead of studying dates or poring
over chronologies, he had been better employed in achieving
works of immortal genius (cheers), but still it was as well
that the oversight had been observed and pointed out to
him in sufficient time, and not left to cast, as it were, a
shade on his finished performance. (Cheers.) In the case
of more remote periods and more shadowy heroes, the aid
which the artist might derive from the antiquary would
be of course much greater. Be they great or small, such
services would be always most cheerfully rendered, and
the gratification of gazing on such works of art as those
now around them would beno mean return. (Cheers.)
The PRESIDENT, in proposing the toast, " The Royal In-
stitute of British Architects, and the Health of its zealous
President, Professor Donaldson," remarked that the Presi-
dent of the Architects' Institute was generally elected for
one year only. Professor Donaldson had now entered on
his second year of office, a distinct proof of the great