The Sun.
London, England, 1845-10-25 00:00:00

affairs of the institution—a sketch of which we have already
given—and concluded by urging forcibly upon the assem-
blage the duty of supporting strenuously and unweariedly
the institution whose anniversary they were met to celebrate.
To the young he especially committed it. For their benefit
it was especially founded—for its welfare they were especially
responsible. Let them never forget, in this great capital of
physical labour, how important it was that spiritual power
should be awakened into like activity. Canning once said
that he had called a' new world into existence to redress the
balance of the old; but let them keep the balance even, be-
tween the world within and that without, keeping steady the
social vessel with contemplation's immortal freightage.
Mr. MARK PHILIPS, M.P., was the next speaker. He re-
gretted that it had not been in his power to have attended
other and former anniversaries of the Manchester Athenaeum.
If they had ever entertained any doubt as to the success of
the Institution, he trusted that those fears had been as fully
removed on their part as he was sure that they were upon
his own. It was evident that the mind of Manchester was
set Upon effecting its object. He saw before him the as-
suranee that the Athenaeum would not stand still, much less
retrograde. On the contrary, he looked forward to the pe-
riod when almost every young man of Manchester should be
a member of the Athenaeum, or of some kindred institution,
the whole to work together towards one common object, and
with one common aim. There seemed to be but one opinion
in favour of the Institution. It was founded upon the best
of all principles—self-government. They were responsible
to themselves for the management of their own affairs, and
lie trusted that that management would continue to be as
prosperous as it had hitherto been. The Honourable Gentle-
man proceeded to allude to a part of Mr. Disraeli's speech
last year, in which he dissected the lonely condition of a
young man arrived from the country in Manchester, lowly
and unknown. To all such the Athenwum afforded a rally-
ing point, t he best possible refuge for a young man so situated.
There he would meet with welcome and instruction—there
lie might amuse, while he instructed himself—there, while
morally and intellectually lie was cultivating his faculties, he
would also feel that socially he was not alone. After an ap-
peal to the ladies, who had done so much for the Athenaeum,
and an energetically expressed hope that they would con-
tinue their exertions in its behalf, the Honourable Gentleman
resumed his seat amid hearty applause
Mr. F. STONE, who was introduced by the Chairman as an
artist of celebrity, who left Manchester when young to push
his fortunes single-handed in London, next addressed the
meeting, and dilated on the advantages which such an insti=
tution as that whose prosperity they were now met to cele-
brate held out to young students in the fine arts. He in-
ferred from the success of the Athenaeum a sympathy for the
line arts, properly so called; and he ventured to hope the
time was fast approaching when a public school of art would
be established.—(Cheers.)
Mr. BRIGHT, M.P., disclaimed all pretensions to literary
or scientific distinction ; he professed to having attained
only to this degree,—that he had learned to admire and
honour those men who, by their deep thought or eloquent
writings, had done anything to improve and elevate man-
' kind—(Cheers)—and when he looked at that vast assemblage,
he might say there were thousands present who might
claim not to be literary men, but at least to have warm
sympathies with the feelings they expressed, and to honour
those who thus led the minds of their countrymen.—(Cheers.)
They were met not for the
.purpose of engaging in a frivo-
lous amusement, or passing an idle hour, but for the pur-
pose of supporting an institution of the very best and noblest
character—an institution which had for its object the promo-
tion, among those who at a very early period must. become
themselves the directors and controllers of public opinion and
intelligence in that district, of those sentiments and that die-
meter which'would enable them satisfactorily to fulfil those
high duties to which they would speedily be called. The very
character of the district presented one of the strongest argu-
ments in favour of such an institution. It was more populous,
more wealthy, and had more powers ofproducing wealth than
any other part of the kingdom. For activity of mind it was
unequalled ; he doubted if it were equalled by any other por-
tion of the British empire; and if there were such a popula-
tion, such wealth, such power to create wealth, and such
activity of mind, was he wrong in coming to the conclusion
that the course which should be pursued and the opinions
that should prevail there would greatly influence the destinies
of the empire and of the world ?—(Cheers.) The records of
the past were these cf error, crime, and suffering, and was it too
much to say that mankind might yet be made more happy__
was it an irreverent thought that they might by cultivation
more largely develop the divine faculties within them, and
thus aid at once the human happiness and the honour and re-
nown of the Creator himself? Time was when the destiny of
nations was in the hands of one, or a few men; but a mighty
change was now taking place, and in proportion as nations
became informed and intelligent, power was diffused among
them, and became transferred from the hands of the few to
those of the many. Public opinion was daily gathering
strength, and was marching on to omnipotence and an undis-
puted dominion.—(Cheers.) He admitted that much bad
been done in Manchester,—he doubted whether any town in
the kingdom had made such rapid strides,—but still he could
not conceal from himself that much remained to be done.
They must erect for themselves a high standard and a noble
aim, and rest satisfied with nothing while anything re-
mained to be achieved. It was not enough for them in Man-
chester that they clothed the world cheaply; it was not
enough that many merchants and manufacturers amassed
wealth, and that multitudes of industrious artizans were well
paid, and in comfortable circumstances; more than this was
wanted. Measures should be taken to secure a sound and
real education, not so much among the operative classes as
among his own class and rank, connected with the manufac-
tures and commerce of the district. He held it to be quite
impossible that there should be a great up-raising of the ope-
rative classes unless there were a corresponding improve-
ment in the class next above them in the social
scale.—(Cheers.) A great effort at some not distant period
must be made for this purpose. When he recollected that
the so-called national universities were not fur them, and
that from their honours and advantages the vast multitudes
of that district were effectually debarred, it was not for
them to fold their arms in apathy because they found diffi-
culties in their path. If they were surmountable, why
should they not be surmounted? He pictured to himself
the good, the intelligent, and generous people of Lancashire
and Yorkshire, dissatisfied with things as they were with
respect to educational means, gradually rousing themselves
from their apathy; and he saw a long list of names denoting
large subscriptions for the purpose of founding, building,
and establishing some great free college or university which
should be for the especial service of those who were engaged
in the vast commerce of the district.—(Cheers.) The principle
on which it should proceed must be, that it should be free,
open to all—they should not suppose that the teaching, the
imperfect teaching, of a couple ofdead languages was educa-
tion, any more than they were to consider that true nobility
consisted in a long line of dead ancestors. He hoped that
the education which would be imparted would be of ai prac-
tical character, and that with all the knowledge communi-
cated there would be associated those noble sentiments and
generous sympaties which •_formed the essence of true wis-
dom, and enabled its possessors rightly to use the informa-
tion they had acquired.—(Cheers.) He did not despair of
seeing what he now suggested accomplished" at no distant
day.—(Cheers.) They had warred with the elements, and
chained the powers of nature to do their bidding. The
very air they breathed would speedily propel them across a
kingdom in a few hours. With increased physical comforts
and advantages would they neglect the far more noble, be-
cause the indestructible portion of their being?—victors in
the material, would they be content to gain no laurels in
the intellectual world ?—(Cheers.) Rather would they not,
diving to deeper depths and soaring to loftier heights,
rise in moral stature, and add to all those outward blessings
with which they were surrounded those which were purer
and more lasting, which would spring up as a rich harvest
from the culture of the mind? He trusted every one he
addressed would that night form a resolution to do what he
could to make that county and district educationally what
it ought to be, and what it must become, if they would
have social order preserved, and the prosperity continued.
—(Cheers.)
The Cerarnmeer begged now to introduce a gentleman who
had been long known to him, and with whom in spirit he
was quite sure they had all for years been familiar, one whose
graver writings had been devoted in the most earnest and
thoughtful manner to the great interests of his species, and
whose lighter works displayed the greatest mingling of wit
and wisdom of any writer of his time, whether presented
before the curtain of the theatre, or, as was sometimes whis-
pered, behind the curtain by a certain lady friend of his not
necessary to mention.—(Loud cheers.) He saw they under-
stood well whom he meant, and therefore he would at once
call on Mr. Douglas Jerrold to address them.

Mr. DOUGLAS JERROLD was received with the greatest en-
thusiasm. After the cheering which greeted his appearance
had subsided he spoke as follows :—The high object of your
Institution—its many refining tendencies—have been so fully
discussed—have been set forth with such various and com-
manding eloquence by your distinguished Chairman, that
little, indeed, on such points is left for me to utter; and
herein do I hold myself peculiarly fortunate. I congratullte
myself, and I especially congratulate you, upon the VEry
subordinate part I must necessarily play in the drama of
this evening. I have, you will perceive, already touched
upon the drama. I thought, before my present audience, I
might venture to do so ; though, I assnle you, there are
certain circles in the great city I quttted yesterday, in which
I fear, any such allusion would have been considered to be
very vulgar indeed. But having alluded to the drama,
► and having still your cordial welcome, I cannot but com-
pare myself to one of the very many walking gentlemen
with which the drama abounds. It is the great occasion on
which they appear that allows to them even the most passing
attention ; not to themselves, but to the principles with which
they are humbly associated—principles carried out by
stronger, loftier agents—that they owe their presence on the
scene ; and such, ladies and gentlemen, do I feel to be my
position this evening. The success of your admirable Insti-
tution has been made so manifest to-night—its prosperity has
been so full and complete—its noble uses have been so widely
acknowledged, that it is as difficult to find anything new to
praise as it seems hopeless for me to discover aught to con-
demn. Indeed, did I selfishly wish for matter for a more
lengthened speech, I should wish for the revival of some
good old wholesome wrong, and desire the presence of one
of those bugbears of the good old times, one of those creatures
' of ignorance, that condemned knowledge for the like reason
that the owl flees the sun —(Cheers.) It had not eyes,
poor thing, to bear that light created for the health and
happiness of the meanest man that lives.—(Cheers.) But
there is no such antagonist to fight—no such bugbear to
grapple with.—(Cheers.) The Lady Knowledge, too long
:pent up in her tower, guarded not only by giants, but,
:more provoking still, by dwarfs—(Cheers)—and we have only
to look back a few years, a very few years, to own there have
ibeen dwarfs as mischievous as any in fairy tale—(Cheers)—
E tthe Lady Knowledge, I say, is no longer a prisoner.—
(Cheers.) We have killed the giants, we have slain the
(dwarfs. (Cheers,)—And how have we killed them ? Why,
us Luther rebuked the Devil, by throwing inkstands at
them.—(Loud cheers and laughter.) Her music is no
lkmger made the idle luxury of the few, but is acknow-
hedged in the daily want of the many.—(Cheers.) It is
a proud thing for you, people of Manchester, that you
bare erected a temple to her—a temple, wherein the hum-
blest of your fellow-townsmen may come and listen to her.
an. 4 feel his nature at once softened and elevated by the magic
of her voice.—(Cheers.) To say that it offered to such the
sweetest solace after the day of toil—to say that it imparted
to him a keener consciousness of the dignity of his na-
ture—to say, that whilst teaching them their own right-
fill position in the world, it makes them respect the
riE htful position of others, is only to translate into the
nu rest common-place the oft-repeated eloquence of gifted '
mcn.—(Loud cheers.) These things are now truisms. But
human nature is apt to be ungrateful to truisms; for, let us
not forget how fortunate it is for us that we live in an age
when they are truisms.—(Cheers.) For truths, like oaks, are
of slim growth; and it is with the early truth as with the
acorn—show it to merest ignorance, and it cannot conceive
how that little germ should hold within it a latent power
that, duly developed, shall breast the billow, and defy the
thunder.—(Loud cheers.) And so has truth grown, but with
this sad difference, that it has too often been watered with
axe blood of those who bare dared to plant it.—(Cheers.)
Happy then is it for us, and for the blessing ought we to
render up most humble and hearty thanks that we may to-
night be gathered together under its branches—(Cheers),
for your institution is a great truth—( Cheers)—a truth, it may
be, planted amidst the fears of the timid, the sneers of the
foolisb' the misgivings of really well-meaning folks, who
still thought that that truth for the masses was the barley-
sugar of children.—(Cheers and laughter.) They might
}lave A little—just a little when very good—but to allow ,

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