The Sun.
London, England, 1846-10-24 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 24, 1846.

ptiwerfully as an incentive ; but it is to be feared
that such a hope has too much engrossed both the
efforts and the admiration of mankind.—(Loud cheers.)
I remember being greatly struck once with an expression
which was used by a friend of mine, though you will
perceive at once that it is not to be understood quite in
its literal acceptation ; but the expression was, that
" Heaven was made for those who had failed in the
world." Now, there are all sorts of unbecoming and
unenviable feelings, which often may accompany and
embitter failure, as, on the other side, every bright and
blessed quality of the heart and the mind may enhance
and adorn success. But to aim at success, to meet with
failure and not to grudge it, to be outstripped by a rival
and yet to hear a rival's praises with an unwounded ear
—these are efforts and triumphs beside which the ordi-
nary successes of the world are light and trivial.—
(Cheers.) Success, after all, in almost every walk of
life, from the aspiring statesman down to the ambitious
parish-beadle, will very often be found to consist of
very coarse, obtrusive, and vulgar ingredients, certainly
of no heavenly temperament; while there is no grace
of character, no spring of self-reliance, no element of
progress, with which failure, when not earned by our
own 'aches, and when sustained with an even and
brave spirit, may not ally itself.—(Hear, hear.) De-
pend upon it the world, in more instances than we
can think of, has never discovered or crowned its best.
—(Cheers.) There are diamonds in Golconda more
precious than the Pitt diamond or any other diamond
that ever blazed upon the diadem of royalty.
There are pearls in unopened shells more lustrous
than any that ever yet shone on the neck of beauty.—
(Applause.) The ages, as they pass by, have known
their Homer, their Raphael, their Newton, and their
Shakspere; but I doubt not there are in the human
creation, as in all besides, prodigalities which have never
yet been fathomed.—(Cheers.) I believe it to be no less
true, that nothing that was ever given to us has, except
by our own fault, been lest or thrown away. What,
after all, is the material point? Is it to be Homer, to
be Raphael, to be Shakspere, or to be merely thought a
transcendent poet, or an unparalleled painter? Is it to
conceive in the inmost soul the lineaments of the Holy
Mother and the Divine Babe, or the idea of Lear on the
heath, or of Macbeth at the banquet; or is it merely that
would-be critics should commend the picture, or crowded
audiences should shout " Bravo " in the pit?—(Loud
cheers.) Carry away with you this great truth—carry
it to your daily task, or to your evening leisure, to the
quiet of your homes or to your social musters—that it
matters comparatively little what you may seem to be;
it matters even proportionately little what you may
actually do, but it matters everything what you are.—
(Loud cheers.) What you may seem is subject to a thou-
sand accidents and misapprehensions. Whatyou may do
is often under other control than your own. What you
are is under your own—you may be all you should be.
Depend upon it, however humble may be any of your
positions in life, however obscure the labour which en
grosses the precious hours as they pass—however insig-
nificant your whole life's drudgery—in this mean and un-
envied position, in this wearing and numbing drudgery,
you may mould for yourselves the qualities, you may
build up for yourselves the characters which princes, if
they knew them, would trust—which multitudes, if they
could discern them, would adore.—(Loud cheers.) I
feel that in touching on such high topics of morality
and conduct with scarcely authorised lips, I may subject
myself to imperfect explanations, and to much miscon-
struction. I know that it is often thought that ad-
dresses delivered upon such occasions are too apt to
minister to the pride of man, and to the undue adulation
of the intellect. I disclaim all such tendencies. When
I tell you you may be all you should be, I do not exclude
from the method of being so those aids and sanctions
which are too high for me here to dwell upon. lam as
confident as any one, that reason as well as Christianity
makes humility almost its most prominent grace.—
(Cheers.) Who would not be humble, who felt as he
ought the loveliness of virtue and the magnificence
of knowledge ?—(Cheers.) I should like to ask one
of those fortunate men who have lately added a new
planet to our system, or who, as was beautifully said
on an earlier occasion, " have lent the lyre of heaven
another string"—l should like to ask them whether their
spirit has not rather recoiled in modest awe, than swelled
in self-sufficient presumption, before the secrets of that
space into which they have been enabled to dart a more
far. seeing glance than any of their fellows ?—(Cheers.)
And so it will be when the time has come which shall,
to our enlarged and perfected vision; unfold the whole
bright mechanism of stars, and suns, and systems. The
laws which will then serve to explain to us why their
stations are fixed, and how their mazes are guided, will
only supply us with fresh reason for being more re-
verent, more acquiescent, more lowly.—(Cheers.) But
I feel that I ought to come down from the clouds, and,
indeed, from everything else, and I certainly could
hardly have lighted on a more radiant spot on the earth
than this present assembly.—(Cheers.) I have only to
hope that all who shall have partaken in its excitement
will bear away with them, not cnly the transitory
emotions which the scene must so easily excite, but a
settled determination, followed up by a corresponding
practice, to give fair play and full scope to all the highest
purposes of which the institution is, and may be made
yet more capable.—(Cheers.) This must be done by
associated effort. But you will hardly have failed to
have observed, at least such is the case with most
institutions of a similar character, how very much of
the whole work is done by a few out of the whole num-
ber. Now, I want to inoculate all of you with the same
active and enlightened spirit. I want to call upon each
man and woman among you to make the work your own
—to put more individual energy into the collective body,
so that no member of the Manchester Athenaeum shall
think that he has done his duty unless he has done some-
thing, according to his individual opportunities and
abilities, to give encouragement, efficiency, and credit to
the institution of which you have such reaaon to be
proud.—(Loud cheers.) As to myself, I have only fur-
ther to say, that if, when the gay glitter of this scene
has
passed away—when the strains of music are hushed,
andthe ailenee has fallen on the voice of the speaker—if, in
stillness of your quiet homes, or amid the clang of
your daily labour, you shall have derived a single encou-
ragement to ennobling reflections andi to worthy pursuits;
the
ec
or if, still more, any
one
eo
under
d ouer
world's or
such times come on
all of us—when he smarts
coldnessln and gof
disappoint
meat, or under a sense of the
alien-
ation, shall be reminded how little this
y g
and that, as I have ventured to say, failurreeasloes wordi signifies, o
onfitehe;
appointed means of access to heaven—if ni
mine shall have contributed to this encouragement, or to
this alleviation, I shall then feel that I have not
Manchester quite in vain. The Noble Viscount re:smut/el
his seat amidst long protracted cheering.
His Grace the Archbishopo
of DUBLIN
ladies,unont
annedxtgaenddtlreemsseend,
the meeting. He said—My Lords,
I was invited in the first instance to attend this meeting,
and was requested to make some observations, whatever
might occur to me, in reference to the subject of it,
without, of course, the possibility of its being supposed
that I could give you any information respecting the
affairs of this institution ; or, that I could come for-
ward merely to pronounce an empty panegyric upon its
merits, which are so much better known and appreciated
by yourselves than by any one else. It would be quite
superfluous for me to detain you with any lengthened
observations upon the important and beneficial tenden-
cies of such an institution, because, I think, the very
circumstances of my leaving behind, in Ireland, very
important and pressing business, to be present on
this occasion, shows how very highly I value an institu-
tion of this sort, and how warm is the sympathy which
I have with all the supporters and members of it.—
I (Cheers.) Very likely I may be expected to say, now
I that I have come over, and have visited and inquired
into your institution, what I think of it ; and, it is
something to say with respect to it, that lam not dis-
appointed. I shall not, for I think that that would be
an affront to you, say that I feel surprised at the origin
of such au institution, or that it is anything more than
I expected from a great and wealthy place like this.
I feel, on the contrary, that cherishing that love
of commerce and activity necessarily characterising a
city like this, to have paid all attention to every subject
connected with gain, and to have neglected altogether so
important an institution for the improvement and en-
lightenment of yourselves and fellow citizens, would have
subjected you to just reproach. I trust that you will
think it no insignificant praise if I say I think you have
done your duty.—(Cheers.) I was greatly interested in
bearing of such an institution in so very important a
portion of the United Kingdom—in a city which, I
think, may be regarded in some respects as a kind of
representative of empire; for I can assure you, with-
out flattery—of that I am incapable—nowhere do I feel
more completely in England than when I am in Man-
chester, because it has to boast of some of the most dis-
tinguishedoo ft
her arts,
energy,
countriesw hiac which
wetd
the
im soayme
British
se oe f t
ht
eheme
ploughpm roes characteristic t
ever
ae
tr
wdisplayed.o rk ve m featsalyn,
look upon splendid armies and upon fine architecture ;
we may see many things to be found in many parts of
the kingdom, but none so characteristic of the people who
were reproachfully termed " a nation of shopkeepers."
We have lived to see that " nation of shopkeepers" ob-
tain military, as well as other triumphs, over those who
have so reproached them.—(Cheers.) But I conceive
that all these triumphs are insignificant, compared with
the great triumph of diffusing wealth, comfort, and civi-
lisation over so many parts of the world as this empire
does, by means of her manufactures and commerce.
I say, then, that it would be a reproach to so wealthy,
so populous, and so active a city as this, if no attention
were paid to anything but the mere pursuit of gain ;
and therefore it is that I consider that you were doing a
duty, and nothing else than a duty, in establishing and
supporting such an institution as this, with the working
of which I trust you will, have more and more reason to
be satisfied every year of its continuance. I understand
that the fruits of it have been perceived in the improved
character of the rising generation who have partaken of
its benefits, and I trust that those good fruits will be
seen yet more and more. To instruct you, however, in
the benefits, the objects, and the character of such an
institution, would, as I have said, be impertinent in me,
who know so much less of it than you do. I have even
less knowledge than yourselves, not only of this particu-
lar institution, but perhaps of this whole class of insti-
tions; for, although I have been engaged for a great
number of years in the diffusion of knowledge in one
' shape cr another—in whit may be called education,
either complete or partial, since all diffusion of know-
ledge is a portion of education—yet I have never been
specifically connected with an institution precisely of
this nature. • With the higher and lower institutions I
have been officially connected. I have been connected
with the education in one of our universities, which are
seminaries for the highest classes, the nobility,
gentry, and learned professions; and lately, in a
still more important degree, I have been con,
netted with charity schools; but that which is imme-
diately between the two, that which tends to improt e
the classes between the learned professions and
the very lowest of the people, I have not been so
specifically and cloeiy connected with. Still, education,
in some shape or other, either by actively engaging in
the work, or by publishing or editing works connected with

it, or by superintending or forming establishments for
the promotion of education, in some shape or other, I
have been connected with, very actively and zealously,
for about 38 years—(Cheers)--and I presume that those
who have done me the honour of calling upon me to ad-
dress some observations to you this evening, have done
so from the thought, perhaps, that I should have to com-
municate to you some of the results and observations
emanating from my own experience. I shall do so, but
very briefly, begging you, in the first place, to bear in
mind that when I said that I had been for 38 years con-
nected with eduction, I did not mean that I bad been
occupied in making speeches upon it.--(Laughter.) I
have been engaged in the practice of it, and not in
haranguing upon it ; and therefore it is not to be ex-
pected that I can address you with the same eloquence
that others may do who have not seen and done so
much as I have.—(Cheers.) In spite of all the dangers
threatened by, and objections raised to, the diffusion of
education, still, upon the whole, I am more and more
convinced' that the wide diffusion of knowledge will al-
ways tend more or less, in the end, to the diffusion of
every othergood.— (Cheers.) I have spoken of the dangers
attending it, and dangers there are; I do not disguise it.
I believe that on this point I do not differ at all from the
Noble Lord who has so eloquently addressed you, when
he spoke of there being no dangers in the diffusion of
knowledge ; I believe that he meant, as I do, that the
dangers are not to be put in comparison with the dan-
gers of ignorance.—(Cheers.) It is impossible, by
keeping men in darkness and ignorance, to secure them
from temptation. It is impossible to guard men against
evil ; though you were to shut them up in the cells of
hermits, they must be exposed to temptation. in one
shape or another. Men are lit ble to be deceived and
misled; but it is in darknes 3 more than in light, in twi-
light more than in full sun, that error is liable to be
mistaken for truth.—(Cheers.) I should be ashamed to
dwell at any length, especially before such an audience
as this, un the advantages of knowledge ; but I would
have you be well assured, for I can say so from my own
convictions and experience, that the advantages of dif-
fusing knowledge are not so generally admitted as might
be supposed from people's professions. I know for a
fact, that there are some persons who deprecate the
diffusion of knowledge, but yet they will give in to it,
and profess to favour it, merely because they find that
they must swim with the stream, and cannot oppose
it. I am continually meeting with persons who are
for embarking in the vessel of education, in order
that they may be able to retard its career. They
are deprecators, above all things, of too great
a diffusion of knowledge, too much education for
the people, too much knowledge for their station in life,
which, they say, is likely to r puff them up." Something
may be given, but not too much. Why, of course, no
one is an advocate for too much of anything—(A laugh)
—but if all mankind, down to the lowest peasant who
follows the plough, were to obtain as much knowledge as
was ever possessed by the most learned man that ever
lived,l should still say that is was very far for being too
mueh, provided that it was a well-digested knowledge,
and there eves a well-balanced cultivation of the faculties.
—(Cheers.) I suppose there are comparatively few
who apprehend danger to loyal principles, submissive
obedience to the Government, and all the other social
virtues, from the sort of knowledge diffused in this place
among the middle classes of society, any more
than they apprehend it from a diffusion of the
same sort of knowledge amongst the peasantry.
The same argument, in fact, will apply to both classes.
If the mere knowledge of his letters tends to make a
man less contendedly submit to his lot as a labourer, one
does not see why more extended knowledge should not
unfit him for some other subordinate station. Wby
should not knowledge, if that be its tendency, make all
men try to rise above their station, all but in the highest?
I believe that the danger lies here, that where 'know-
ledge is very rarely and scantily communicated, the one
who, by some good luck, happens to get above his fel-
lows, will think himself fitted to be removed to a higher
class. But communicate the same knowledge to all that
class, and they will not be raised above it. One of the
greatest Conservatives that ever lived—all would agree
with him Dr. Johnson was so—used to say, when speak-
ing upon this subject, " Why, sir, if a man has a laced
hat, he thinks himself too good to go to the plough ; but
if all men wore laced hats; we should see men ploughing
in laced hats."—(Cheers.) But, then, there is this
objection, and it may lie against all communications of
all human good of every kind—an educated man, of
cultivated intellect, but a bad man, which he certainly
may be, is more dangerous than he was before. It is
very true. A man who possesses the use of his limbs
is more dangerous, if he be a bad man, than the cripple.
—(Cheers.) A man who who has the use of speech and
of his eyes is more dangerous, if he be a bad man, than
a blind or deaf mute ; but, unless the tendency of the
cultivation of the mind is to make man worse, we are
rebelling against the dispensations of Providence to re-
fuse any good to our friends and countrymen, to those
above and below us, on the ground that it may be
abused.—(Cheers.) This, however, I wish particularly
to point out, though it must have occurred to most of
you, wherein does consist the great danger to the com-
munity of a man of cultivated intellect and great powers
sharpened by exercise, if he happens to be a bad man?
What is the chief danger to be apprehended from him?
Why, that he will act as a demagogue on the unthinking
multitude. He persuades the ignorant to receive his
statements, to adopt his fallacious conclusions, to follow
in all his wild schemes. He snakes them his instru-
ments. lie may incite them to rebellion, to all sorts
of mischievous and dangerous conduct. Take away
these instruments, by making those men good judges of
truth and falsehood, and he has no longer anything to
work upon.—(Applause.) The agitator, the dema-
gogue, the partisan leader, all the mischievous men
who turn their talents and acquirements to such an
account as that, are a kind of quacks. It is well
known that if a man has a certain knowledge of
chemistry and medicine, he may- play on the credu-
lity of the ignorant by persuading them to swallow
his mischievous drugs; but if all understood medicine
there would be none to take his quack medicines.—
(Cheers.) Let all men, therefore, be so educated as to
be capable of distinguishing the true from the false, and
then, however ill-disposed a man may be, he will not be
able-to mislead others. I cannot conceive of such a
thing es a lawless and violent mob consisting of well-
instructed men, even setting aside moral instruction.
Supposing that they were all bad men, there would be
more generals than soldiers; but they would not be so
ignorant as to allow one to mislead the rest. I conceive
that the best way of guarding against the danger of
putting power into the hands of bad men is to diffuse as
widely as possible that power which knowledge confers.
—(Cheers.) But lam convinced also that the tendency
of knowledge is not necessarily to secure good moral
conduct and character, but to further and promote it. If
our religion was a system of blind superstition, people
iowruepoludrtl
oppressive
s3es, byi etyhewtehedmer
:oms.
more
eorltetif rmeoeyu,l irg
Gi o uo sv
et
rhuerame
no more ewbel
ri ne danand unjusti inthianuk-
d
wmeerne rwe
douueledd submits t
at ot e
oi tf b
rmu
torebrutes
and children. But if the conduct which we recommend to
them as men and Christians be conformable to right
reason—if our religion be based upon solid evidence—
if our Government be founded on just and fair principles,
those persons will be the best Christians and subjects,
other things being equal, who are best able to distinguish
between truth and falsehood.—(Cheers.) I wish to be
distinguished from those persons who consider that the
mere diffusion of knowledge constitutes the whole of
education. I say that it is a good thing, but Ido not
say or think that it is the whole of education; and I wish
no one to go away with the idea that I consider every
man the wiser, or likely to be the better, or the better
educated, for all the knowledge he may have obtained,
unless it is well regulated, and a judiciously balanced
cultivation of the faculties. But I say that knowledge,
as it goes, is a good thing, and the people should be
merely warned against the danger of ill-balanced
knowledge. The man who entirely devotes himself to
the cultivation of some faculty, to the neglect of the
rest; the person who devotes his attention to the culti-
vation of the intellect, to the neglect of the moral facul
ties, all these persons may be advanced in their own
particular way, but it is a narrow, ill-balanced,
injudicious, hurtful education. What I 'maintain and
contend for is, that it is not in that case the knowledge
of something that does the harm, but the ignorance of
others. It is not the cultivation of this faculty, but the
neglect of that. The same church, or other place of
worship, that may be sufficient for a small populatian,
becomes utterly inadequate for a large population. In
like manner, the same degree of moral and religious
education which suffices for a young child, or a person of
very limited attainments generally, becomes deficient
when he has acquired a great deal of secular knowledge.
The church, in his own mind, has become too small for
him ; but then, the evil is not in the increase of the po-
pulation,eultivatie übuotfibnisthinetwelalenottuosfloitaheeurltcyh,ubruchtesin—tnbootniengltehoet
of the moral part of his nature. My argument may be
illustrated by reference to the growth of the human
frame. In the case of children who are ricketty, we are
accustomed to say, that the head is too large for the
body, or the limbs too large for the trunk ; but we find
in this case, not that the head or the trunk has grown
too much, but that the limbs have not kept pace with it
—that the growth has not been even and well-balanced.
And it may be added that, when a child is growing, it is
not only far better, but far easier, to encourage the
growth of the defective parts than to stop the growth of the
body altogether. The latter is impossible ; the former
may be accomplished by medicine and diet. I say, then,
that when a community is advancing in mental culture,
it is not only far wiser, but far easier, to give that cul-
ture the right direction, so as to prevent a dispropor-
tionate and ricketty growth, than to stop altogether the
progress of the human mind.—(Cheers.) There are
some who leak back with regret to the times of our
simple-minded ancestors, who wero content to believe
what they were told and do what they were bid, who
sought for no knowledge beyond their humble sphere ;
and we
wbi
eban,are
d ws
bit
ta,
hnugl
should
pitytlot
to)
forkc obtnahseei
kd
ye
rwr e that
istebn t
the those were
greatest
generation,re
a te stt h cn. d: days
admira-
tion,ict
ho
ttn
is
in vain
st
uepspwosaedtddbltati-itnegre is too great a diffusion of light. But
we
clothessh o ul d
o f endeavour
childhood.to
E clothevent h
thoughadult
tuthat e were
the
wab go ol
eo
sdy
sttheimn g
k,
ew ep
pcuitenen o
ift dpoo s
si ti.blo
efilaingdhtenuetdt,erly
e
Others there certainloywuP into well-formed adults.
are whose views"
remaining
children, we should grow
cheerful. They hail • with rapture any kind of
although
Waui.eiei theitllnot
unavoidable advance, and then,instead of tt
they are more
mireadvance, overlook all the dangers
which I have been dwelling upon of disproportionate
and ill balanced advancement. But I would exhort you
to keep clear of both of these—to consider advance as
both necessary and desirable, but
importance, as much aspossible,to keep
in mind the
your-
selves, and in those under your control, of having in
well- balanced and proportioned dan equable and
not to those who sigh vainly and
look for
Listen
for the restoration
of infancy, nor listen to those who exult in the growth
of a distorted maturity; but endeavour to keep up an
equal and well-balanced advancement,
as
far
and
as
wide
as
youcan and then advance
. (Applause.) I have had

great difficulties to encounter in that department-of the
diffusion of knowledge which has chiefly occupied me
for the last fourteen years. You will understand that I
allude to the introduction of national education into
Ireland—(Cheers)—and, sympathising so warmly and
so strongly as I do in this place and in this institution, I
cannot feel a doubt that you also feel some sympathy
with what is going ou in the sister country, and in the
difficulties and exertions of those who have been labour-
ing to enlighten and improve it.—( Applause.) I can-
not suppose that you look upon the Irish as aliens, and
as persons unworthy of your regard.—(Loud cheers.)
I cannot suppose that you grudge them the know-
ledge which you say you are eager and anxious to
diffuse among yourselves.—(Renewed cheers.) I cannot
suppose that ycu would wish them to be, or consider
that they must necessarily be, irreclaimable barbarians.
I sympathise ' warmly myself with all your exertions,
and am delighted to hear the manner in which you have
manfully met and overcome the difficulties which threat-
ened this institution in its infancy. I have also had
great struggles on the other side of the water, and I am
happy to say, that with the blessing of Divine Provi-
dence, the Irish national system of education will prove,
when there has been time to make itself thoroughly felt
—that is, when the generation brought up under it shall
come into activity—l do trust that it will prove one of
the greatest boons which has been conferred by Govern-
on any part of her Majesty's dominions. And I think
that I should be wanting, not to myself merely, and to the
Government which has been supporting that system, but
I feel that I sh*ld be wanting to the cause of education,
should be wanting to the rights and claims of the poor
Irish, if I neglected to take this opportunity, if
you will so far indulge me, of giving a contradiction to
some of those calumnies with which our Irish national
system has been assailed.—(Loud cheers.) I would not
hear this Manchester Institution assailed with any ca-
lumny in Ireland, or elsewhere, when it was in my
power to repel it—(Loud cheers)—and I believe that
none of you here would willingly listen to any calumny
that tended to, disparage the merits, or to defeat the ob-
jects, of such an institution as ours.—(Applause.)---
Ours, ladies and gentlemen—l mean the national system
of Ireland—is not a godless and irreligious system.
We do not undertake to teach the whole of their religious
belief, to give the whole of their religious education to the
children of different denominations—because we could
not possibly do that for all of them together, without
violating the consciences cf some of them. We do not
propose, therefore, to give a complete education. The
system is to leave to the parents of each child the reli-
gious education of that child, the right of religious educa-
tion in that mode, be it right or wrong in my opinion,
which they themselves think the best.—(Much cheer-
ing.) We give to the children jointly, and in friendly
intercourse with each other, all the instruction which
they can conscientiously receive together. And so much
of that instruction, I am happy to say, consists of the
knowledge of sacred history, of those great truths of
our common Christianity in which, thank Heaven, we
all agree, much as we differ upon other points. I could
produce from many of the national schools, where the
children, to the extent of more than seven-eighths,
are generally Roman Catholics, children who would
stand an examination, not only in secular learn-
ing, but in knowledge of the *Scriptures, with any
school that you may select in this country.—(Cheers.)
But the denial of the Scriptures to those willing to read
them, you have often, I dare say, heard charged against
the system, and I would put it to you, as plain English-
men, whether it is right to force upon children any re-
ligious instruction which their parents may disapprove.
I never can believe that the Founder of our Religion,
who, when he was apprehended and dragged away to an
ignoble.death, declared that he could call on more than
twelve legions of angels to his rescue, and who told his
over-zealous disciple to put his sword into its sheath—
I never can believe that it was his intention or desire
that his sacred word should be forced upon any one
against his will, inclination, and conscience.—(Applause.)
I will only notice one more point, which I give not as the
only one that I could produce, but as a sort of specimen
of the falsehoods and misrepresentations by which our
system has been combatted, and which I think will, in
the end, tend rather to strengthen than to weaken it, be-
cause falsehood and misrepresentation would not be re-
sorted to by opponents if they had facts and truths on their
side. What I allude to is the report which has been often
circulated, that although it is allowable, it is said, for
the children whose parents do not disapprove of it, to
read portions or extracts from the Scriptures, yet, if any
one child should object to the reading, that precludes
others from the benefit, and shuts out the Bible from the
whole school. lam bound to believe that those who
circulate that report do not know its falsity. If they
have taken any means to ascertain the truth of their
statement, they must then be repeating an utter, and
deliberate, and calumnious falsehood, for it is totally
without foundation in truth. But I can only acquit them
of the wilful falsehood by supposing that they have
utterly neglected to make any inquiry from the many
hundreds of persons perfectly ready and able to give
them the information. There is no shadow of founda-
tion in truth for this scandalous story, and I wonder how
any one, not overwhelmed with prejudice, should give
credit to anything so absurd. If, at the appointed hour
for religious instruction—for an appointed hour there
must be ; there is I believe, in every school, and there
is in ours—any child is forbidden by hieparents to attend
religious instruction, what is the consequence, do you
think ? That all instruction is at a stand ? No ; you
would say, " The child withdraws." The child whose
parents disapprove of particular religious instruction,
whatever it may be, that commences at a fixed hour,
say from two to three o'clock, withdraws ; but it would
be absurd and ridiculous to say that the whole school is
thereby excluded from that religious instruction. Why,
I any person who may object to what I am now saying
would not thereby be able to prevent all who are pre-
sent from giving their attention. Ile would only have
to withdraw himself.—(Laughter and cheers.) No one
needs to stay, if he does not like it. But lam happy in
being able to add, that although the parents of many of
the children have objected to send them to schools where
religious instruction has been forced upon them, the
children of all denominations have in a vast number of
instances remained when it was left optional, because
they saw that no fraud nor force was intended against
them. And you may be sure that this is the only way
in which any people, and more particularly the Irish,
can be enlightened. You may reason and expostulate
with the parents ; but never attempt to kidnap their
children and to make proselytes of them. This is not
a fair mode of procedure. But offer them that which is
good, and in most cases you will find, if it is offered in a
spirit of frankness and conciliation, it will be willingly
accepted.—(Hear, hear.) I ought to apologise for
having detained you thus long in what may be con-
sidered a digression from the matter in hand ; but I
felt assured that the sympathy I have towards this
place and institution must be in some degree
responded to, and that you would feel the same sympathy
with the wants, and with the efforts to relieve them, of
the poor Irish, as I do with your efforts and success.
With respect to the institution that is now occupying
our principal attention, of
instructions or suggestions from me, because you have
experience to guide you. It is not an institution formed
does
ne
ss
best
nee
wsmt
nat
pod
namnp
tei
et,
,df rfoor andm
for or calculated to give a complete education ; but it
course you cannot need any
t fromahlel thael
wantsl rt ehfleen
icnntdiqo
circumstances
rrlci
euamls haveht
aanvcee beenms
oaa able
leae,
busy, populous, thriving place like this. It is only a
small portion of time—that portion which comes under
the denomination of leisure—that the young persons
n r r
voiefif t
thereaebnl
t of et was
h a pea 1
character,
o n yn e d— t
oe a-
f
in this place, or the elder ones either, can devote to
the cultivation of their minds. That portion, bow-
el
nhv nee ro
c;aeemnatey i
iaemtto
a
n a
eov r
meynpt pa
m tion of the man in the scale of social life, I should
it would
say that, being merely innocent, nenlargement merely in
a great
recommendation ; for we know too well the leisure
hours of those who are occupied for the greater part of
the day is likely to be devoted to anything but innocent
relaxation. But I believe that the lectures, together
with the library of this Athenaeum, are as well adapted
to meet the wants of relaxation and mental improvement
as anything could be in such a place. Lectures alone
give but imperfect and crude sort of notions to those who
have not access to books. Books, again, are a sort of
spacious sea, on which an unpractised student, without
any tutor to direct him, might be apt to be lost. But
lectures excite the desire to read, and point directly to
the way in which the best course of reading can be
taken. The books supply the want which the lectures
have created. The lecturer will not have taught his
pupils all that they feel desirous to know, but he will
have taught them where to seek for knowledge and
where to find it. And I consider that this Athenaeum is
analogous to those great engines of your industry which
excite the wonder of all strangers, and which bring
wealth from all parts of the earth. A single individual.
who used merely his own books, would require a large
library to educate himself tolerably; and he would re-
quire the care of a tutor, or an instructor of some kind,
to guide him. A single weaver at the loom will accom-
plish but little. But you have got machinery; by which
thousands and thousands of spindles can be' turned at
once. You have got machinery by which one person
can perform the work of tens of thousands; and you
can thereby produce a quantity of the best commodi-
ties at a small expense and with the greatest ease.
The Athenaeum is analogous in character to
that machinery. One library and one lecturer
will serve at the same time to instruct hundreds and
thousands of persons, almost as well as if each one had
the library and lecturer to himself. For this reason, it
is an institution particularly suitable for a large, popu-
lous, wealthy, and thriving place like thia.--(dheers.)
Let not the cultivation of your minds be in such a state
as that you shall be put to shame by the wonderful
machines you have constructed for the spinning of cotton
and of various manufactured goods. Continue in this
course, and may the blessing of Providence further your
endeavours l Continue to work this great and mighty ,
whatever dangers you may
engine ; and
yhave to en-
counter, •
you will surmount them,
and by care and diligence
em,
and the benefit will be incalculable. For my part, I
• come from a city far less wealthy than yours ; but, I
shall keep in mind, most tenaciously, all that I have seen
and learned here, and I shall apply, so far as I am able,
all the principles and the practical maxims I have
learned towards the accomplishment of an object which
for years I have had in view—the extension of the
t.
education beyond the labouring
benefits of an improvedh my attention
classes of Ireland, to unt has hitherto
been confined, to the middledelasses of this country, that
they may not be surprise. andn__ overgrown_ee by those who
are their inferiors in static) (_e_h
_rs.)
After a long oration from Mr. Da.wsoN, one of the
lecturers of the institution,
addressed the meeting. His Lord EBRINGTON
directed ob-
servations were mainlyie
ith metentparlovethat, so
afnadr
from being incom pat
the honourable pursuits
oefnttrade
elegant accomplishment,ddone in.ro to promote them than all
and industry lead _
.0s f
of war, or the pursuits
the much vaunted glen.
ambition.
s of Edinburgh, gave an interesting
Mr. W. CsamßEß
sketch of the difficulties he had encountered in his earl'

struggles to cultivate literature, contrasted with the ad-
vantages enjoyed in these days by the most straitened in '
their means, who pursued knowledge under difficulties.
He strongly urged the acquisition of knowledge, and the
study of literature for their own seke, independently of
the fame or advantage which might be derived from
them, and concluded a speech of considerable ability,
delivered with great modesty and propriety, by proposing
"Thanks to the Board of Directors of the Athenmum
for their efforts to render the present meeting interesting
and instructive."
Mr. APGREGOR, of the Board of Trade, in seconding
the motion, expressed the great satisfaction he had de-
rived from being present at that celebration. He had
been highly gratified by the results of the inquiries he
had made as to the usefulness of the institution.—
(Cheers.) If there was any community in the world
among which intelligence could be more eminently use-
ful than another, it was in a great manufacturing and
commercial community like that which constituted the
population of Manchester.and its surrounding districts.
—(Cheers.) The history of manufactures, commerce,
and navigation, was the history of intelligence and of
civilisation. In those countries where ignorance pre-
vailed the people were the least advanced in wealth and
prosperity; they were in a state of the greatest degrada-
tion and immorality. On the other hand, they found
that with intelligence nations became great, virtuous,
and powerful.—(Cheers.) If they examined the condi-
tion of European nations, they would find this to be
universally the case, while in such countries as America
they found anarchy the result of ignorance, and her un-
developed resources the effect of deficient intelligence
in her citizens.—(Cheers.) It was greatly to the credit
of Manchester that while the inhabitants had been in-
dustriously engaged in the pursuits cf trade and com-
merce, they bad not neglected the conveniences of the
rising generation. Manchester might well be proud of
that institution, which had encountered and overcome
all its difficulties; certainly the committee were entitled
to every praise for the perseverance, integrity, and
ability with which they had attended to their duties.
The vote having passed, and been duly duly responded
to, Lord Morpeth left the chair ; and the Mayor having
taken it,
Mr. M. PHILIPS proposed a vote of thanks to Lord
Morpeth for having kindly consented, six months since,
to take the chair on the present cccasion, and for the
distinguished ability with which he had performed its
duties. It was impossible to do justice to the graceful
readiness and good nature with which his Lordship had
accepted the office of president on that occasion ; and,
although it was very inconvenient for public men to
make such engagements so long beforehand, he must
say, speaking as a commercial man, they drew upon the
Noble Viscount at six months, end he was kind enough
to accept at sight. Since that period his Noble Friend
had attained high office under the Crown ; but, although
his occupations and public duties had become much more
onerous than they were before his acceptance of the
post, lie had allowed no private convenience, no public
duty, to interfere with his engagement to be with them.
—(Cheers.) He was quite sure when they reflected on
the intimate connexions which subsisted between the
Noble Lord and the large constituency he represented,
similar in many respects, both in character and pursuits,
to Manchester, they had touched a chord that vibrated
in unison with their own feelings—(Cheers)—and he
called upon them all to show their gratitude to the
Noble Lord for coming among them, and for the splendid
address he had delivered.—(Cheers.)
Mr. W. BROWN, M.P., seconded the motion, which
was put by the Mayor, and carried by acclamation and
waving of handkerchiefs.
Lord MouP,ETEI said, after the marked kindness, and,
I must say also, after the admirable patience with which
you have listened both to myself and to those who sue•
ceeded nee during our already protracted sitting, I should
think myself indeed inexcusable if I inflicted a further
trespass on your exhausted attention. But it is impos-
sible for me to withhold the utterance of my deep and
sincere gratitude for the cordial welcome which I have
now experienced from you. I have already told you
what my sense of the honour done to me was ; I could
hardly tell you, before I had experienced it, my sense of
the pleasure I had received. I had heard much indeed
of the annual assemblies, but I must say the result has
infinitely surpassed anything I could have expected. I
had heard much of the Free-Trade Hall, though I
must not now talk about free trade. But I certainly
did not look upon its birth-place with any disrespect.
—(Cheers.) I did not, however, expect to see it
radient with all the decorations of the Alhambra and
shining like a feast of Chinese lanterns.— (Cheers.) Your
excellent Member has alluded to my present connexion
with the immediate service of the Crown. Certainly,
the superintendence of her Majesty's Woods and Forests
would not seem to bring me into immediate connexion
with the chimneys and furnaces of Manchester ; but I
believe I may say with truth that there is no department
of the public service which may not receive valuable and
useful instruction in your good town and enterprising
community of Manchester.—(Cheers.) He has also
alluded to the constituency, so kindred with your own
in many respects, with which it is my happiness and my
pride to be connected. lam not going to allude any
more to foreign than to domestic politics ; but I cannot
help exclaiming, in the spirit of a former French King
who had an eye, perhaps too keen—an eye to meddle
with Spain—(Loud cheers and laughter)—when he said,
" Henceforth there are no Pyrenees "—I feel, after
the links of rapid communication which now bind to-
fiether the two communities, which fasten together
our White and Red roses, " There is no Blackstone
Edge."—(Cheers.) But you all have been listening
for a long time to our wise saws and our grave maxims
I must not forget that you are now called to more en-
livening measures and to more exhilirating movements.
Your Member said he would indulge in a commercial
allusion; well, I say, I see before me enough of the raw
material—(Loud laughter)—of melody and of beauty,
to weave into a fairy web of graceful gaiety and light-
hearted gladness.—(Cheers.) I commend you then to
give full sway to the genius of the hour.—(Cheers.)
You have already heard to-night a great deal of wisdom;
but there is philosophy in mirth as well as in wisdom.—
(Cheers.) You have been told that the English are
intensely industrious. lam sure to-night we have been
intensely wise—l now exhort you all to be intensely
merry; and I cannot take my leave of yea with a better
wish than that you should throughout the whole course
of your lives be, in happy alternation, both very wise and
very merry.—(Cheers.)
Dancing then commenced, which was continued till a
.ate hour.

MR. VILLIERS, M.P.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES.
Sin,—llaving observed in your police report of to-day
that the man who was taken up at the Athenaeum
Club-house yesterday for creating a disturbance there
pleaded in defence of his conduct that he wanted to
serve me with a writ, may I request you to give insertion
to the following statement? This person, for upwards
of a month past, has been writing threatening letters to
me, demanding a sum of money, and intimating that he
would attend at the different clubs to which I belong,
and that he would stop the members and inform
them that he had a writ against me. To these letters
I have given but one reply—viz, that I never had heard
of the writer in my life, that I was totally uncon-
scious of having incurred any such debt as that alleged
against me, and that to my recollection or knowledge I
had never received any application whatever from his
apparent employers; but I added, that if he or his em-
ployers could show that I was indebted to them, and
would make an application for payment in the usual and
proper manner, I would attend to it without delay;
and taking it for granted that there was either
error or something worse in the background, I left
a written statement to the above effect with the
porters of the different clubs which I frequented.
Since writing that statement (about three weeks ago)
I have never received any application upon the
subject. I have been at the clubs every morning.
I have never directed the servants to deny
me to any one; on the contrary, I have always been
accessible to any one desiring to see me. Finding,
however, that the person in question was in the habit of
calling at the clubs at his own time, and after I had left
them, making this a pretence that he could not see me,
and informing the servants that he had a writ against
me, taking it for granted that he had some unacknow-
ledged purpose of, perhaps, extortion in view, I
directed the porter of the Athenaeum, in case of my
absence, to give him into charge of the police upon
the first occasion of his creating a disturbance, or
obstructing the members of the club, as he had
threatened to do. By this step I felt assured that
I should come to the knowledge of his real object.
The circumstance occurred yesterday, as I had anti-
cipated, and the porter attended to my instructions.
Had I been aware of the apprehension of the party, I
should have attended before the magistrate to apprise
him of all the facts, as the conduct of the offender waf
totally unwarranted and quite inconsistent with the
legitimate object he pretended to have in view, although
quite consistent with the object I have suggested. I
take the step of making this case public, as I have little
doubt that the fear of publicity is the calculation (often
too successful) usually proceeded upon in such cases.
I am, sir, your most obedient servant,
Brookes's, Oct. 23. C. P. VILLIERS.

ESSEX QUARTER SESSIONS, OCT. 23.—This day
being appointed for the trial of William Clare and
William Quinlan, the engine-driver and stoker in charge
of the luggage train which caused the accident at the
Stratford station of the Eastern Counties Railway, the
prisoners, who had surrendered in discharge of their
bail, were placed in the dock, when Mr. E. James, for
the prosecution, stated that the prisoners having been
already tried and acquitted of manslaughter, no evidence
would now be offered. The Chairman said, that on
looking over the depositions he saw very little evidence
against Quinlan, and he should have felt bound to have
ordered his acquittal. No evidence, however, being
offered against either, all the jury would have to do
would be to return a verdict of Not Guilty. The jury
did so, and the prisoners left the bar with their friends.
THE BLIND TRAVELLER.—The celebrated blind
traveller, Lieutenant Holman, returned to this country
on Thursday evening, after an absence of upwards of
six years, during which time he visited Portugal and
Spain, Algeria, and all the places in the Mediterranean,
penetrated Egypt and Syria, crossed the desert to Jeru-
salem, and finally made an extensive tour through the
least frequented parts of the south-east of Europe, in-
cluding Hungary, Transylvania, ;Servia, Bosnia, &c.
on all former occasions, this extraordinary man travelled
perfectly alone. He has returned in perfect health and
spirits.—Liverpool Mercury.
AMATEUR THEATRICALS.—EarI Fitzhardinge has
recently come out in the character of the Elder Brother.
Mr. Grantley Berkeley, in the part of the Younger
Brother, was not very happy. He ranted a good deal,
and was not sufficiently subdued ; but we have no doubt
he will tame'down as he gets more experience.—Punch.
The Marseilles wail to India, which was to leave
to night, will, in consequence of the accident to theßipon
steamer, be delayed till Tuesday evening, the 2 7 th inst.