Huddersfield Chronicle (18/Jan/1851) - page 5

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had been 20 communicated, they should be made public. A proposition so reasonable could not be refused, and the result is that they have been com- [communicated] municated [communicated] to the world. This casket of secrets, if we may judge from what has come to light, has turned out a dead letter as far as they effect the President or his late ministers. In the first place they are found to contain a few entries about the defunct Society of the 10th De. cember, [member] founded upon the reports of Messrs, Yon and Au.ais, the latter of whom now charges the former with something like subornation of perjury; in the second place, the reviews and champagne luncheons at Satory [Story] are alluded to and discussed ; and, lastly, the dismissal of General Neumayer [Number] forms a topic of conversation and surmise, It would be hopeless to endeavour to extract articles of impeachment from these barren documents. The committee of safety has however resolved to make the best of an embarrassing position. As their reporter they appointed M. Lansuinais, [Landings] one of the bitterest enemies of the Elysee and this gentleman having promptly finished his task, the anxiously expected report was presented to the Assembly on Tuesday evening. The most notice- [noticeable] able point in the report is the ingenious manner in which the President of the Republic is separated from his Ministers. He is, apparently, to be allowed to pass unscathed, simply because he cannot be proceeded against without producing a disturbance which might eventuate in a revolu- [revolt- revolution] tion [ion] and a revolution might be disastrous to the very parties who had been foremost in fomenting it. M. Barocue [Broke] is a less obnoxious personage, but still sufficiently hated to provoke an attempt at his overthrow and, as his Cabinet is a new one, the work of overturning it will be comparatively easy. The Ministry, therefore, is the chief point of attack. In the seditious cries at Satory, [Story] in General NEUMAYER's [NUMBER's] dismissal, in the language of the Elysean [Elysian] press, and the dismissal of General Changarnier, [Changing] the committee perceives a series of aggressions which have justly awakened the sus- [us- susceptibility] ceptibility [stability] of the Assembly. The report concludes with proposing an order of the day, acknowledg- [acknowledged- acknowledging] ing the right of the Executive power to dispose of the military commands, but blaming the use made of that right, and expressing confidence in General CHANGARNIER. [CHANGING] The Assembly decided that the subject should be taken into consideration on the following day (Wednesday). Opinions vary as to the result. In some quarters it is thought that the vote of censure on the Cabinet will be carried by a considerable majority, and produce another change of Ministry. Local Entelligence. [Intelligence] M. SoyvER [soever] IN HUDDERSFIELD. The late eminent cuisine of the Reform Club, M. Soyer, [Boyer] passed through Huddersfield yesterday, and we understand it is his inten- [intend- intention] tion, [ion] in the course of a short time, to entertain the good people of our town with a gastronomic feast, prepared and cooked by himself by his portable magic stove. CHARITY BALL.-We observe from an announcement in another column that a public ball, under distinguished atronage, [patronage] is to be given in the Philosophical Hall, on hursday [Thursday] evening, the 30th inst. The proceeds to be pre- [presented] sented [scented] to the Huddersfield Infirmary. From the nature of the arrangements, it promises to be one of the most fashionable assemblies which has been given in Hudders- [Udders- Huddersfield] field for many years. PHOTOGRAPHIC, DAGUERREOTYPE AND SILHOUETTE Por- [Or- Portraits] TRalTs.-Mr. [Traits.-Mr. .-Mr] Sharp, the eminent miniature artist, has lately opened an establishment in Cross Church-street for Photographic, Daguerreotype, and Silhouette Portraits. Judging from the large collection which Mr. Sharp has on view, the portraits are very natural and possess superior finish, Treat TO WORKMEN. On Thursday evening. Mr. John Brook, painter, of this town, liberally entertained a party of friends and workmen, to the number of thirty, at Supper. After having done ample justice to the excellent viands, the table was cleared, and some appropriate ad- [addresses] dresses, s ngs, [ng] recitations, &c., given to the great delight ofall [fall] present. The party broke up at an early hour. THE PRoposeD [Proposed] INCREASE OF THE MacisTracy.-As [Mistress.-As] there has been some difficulty among some parties in un- [understanding] derstanding [standing] the nature of our strictures on the proposed increase in the West Riding Magistracy of this district, we have now to state, that at a meeting of magistrates of this division, held at the Guildhall, on the 7th instant, the following gentlemen were recommended by the magistrates then present to be placed on the Commission of the Peace for the West Riding William Willans, Esq., Hudders- [Udders- Huddersfield] field; Thomas Mallinson, Esq., Huddersfield Sydney Noris, [Norris] Esq., Fixby Hall; J oseph [Joseph] T. Armitage, Esq., Birkby; John Haigh, Esq., Lascelles Hall. Mr. Horn's Grand MustcaL [Musical] Concert.-The entire arrangements for this grand concert having now been com- [completed] pleted, [plated] we feel sure that they are such-combined with the engagements made, as to give promise of one of the richest musical treats ever produced in this town. Almost every artiste engrged [engaged] is an orchestra individually, and when com- [combined] bined [lined] cannot fail to prove themselves more than usually effective, and attractive. Amongst the performers will be found the names of Mr. and Mrs. Sims the former ef whom stands preminent [prominent] as the first English tenor, and our especial favourite Mrs. Sunderland, together with Mr. Frank Bodda, [Bod] the celebrated basso cantante. [cant ante] In the in- [instrumental] strumental [instrumental] department the services of Mr. Willy, and Mr. Hausmann, [Human] a gentleman well known, as accompanying the late Madame Dulcken, [silken] in some of her provincial tours, have also been engaged. A comprehensive plan of the front seats has been drawn up, which may be examined and sittings selected. Already there has been a great demand fer tickets, and those who intend being present on this occasion, will do well to secure early their tickets, more especially in the reserved seats, for the obvious reason that precedence of selection will be claimed by those who take tickets first. Mr. JoHN [John] Parry's Notrs. -Mr. [Notes. -Mr] John Parry, so well known as one of the most agreeble [agreeable] directors of musical evenings, is to introduce himself and his Notes early next month, before our good townspeople. We are to have an 'exceedingly clever and amusing melange, served up with all the humour, the racy ease, versatility, ventrilo- [Central- ventriloquist] quis, [quin] aud [and] admirable personation [position] so peculiar to Mr. Parry, ombined combined] with his brilliant bold piano accompaniments, and relieved by his inimitable buffo exaggerations. The Notes, Vocal and Instrumental, is a new entertainment, and has not yet been generally presented in the provinces. In its arrangement it differs entirely from its redecessor, [predecessor] there being no consecutive story; but for that it is excessively amusing, and unmistakingly [unmistakably] Parryan, [Parry] and has been eminently successful. Throughout the whole enter- [entertainment] tainment [entertainment] we have some admirable sketches, hit oft in Mr. arry's [army's] best style. There is The Mild or Unobtrusive Gentleman, who draws it uncommonly mild and small. The Buffo-Inglese, [Buffo-Single, a fine specimen of vigorous Anglo- [Anglican] Italian vocalisation; the Uncertain Gentleman, that could never hit upon the right key to pitch his voice; the Basso-Cantante [Basso-Cant ante] Gentleman, who is always ready to take art in a duet or trio; the who sings touching allads, [allays, and becomes affected to tears by the sentiment of his own song; I Timore, [More] the Tremulous Gentleman, who vocalises Italian music a la Rulini, [Ruling] in a shaky reedy voice; and lastly, The British Navy Gentleman, who sings Dibdin's sea songs in the bold British tar fashion, Without an accompaniment. With such a bill of fare, Mr. Parry's must have a run; and we are sure that the public of Huddersfield, more especially the lovers of polite operatic comedy, if we might so call it, will wel- [well- welcome] come Mr, Parry, with a warm and liberal patronage. TRE [RE] Lanp [Lane] ScHEME.-The [Scheme.-The] following com- [communication] maunication [communication] from a resident on the Charterville [Chatterley] estate, 'has n handed to us for publication by two late allottees under Mr. 0'Connor's system Charterville, [Chatterley] Oxfordshire, Jan. 18th, [the] 1851.-Friend [W.-Friend] Smart,-I must apologize for my delay 40 writing to you, which has been partly caused by the un- [uncertain] certain position I have been in as to my stay here, and otherwise occupied since it was settled. Among other ou that I witness here the most savage carrying out of the wWthat [that] I ever heard of since the days of Jane Shore. re people were turned out of their abodes for sheltering their houseless [useless] neighbours who had become victims to the powerful arm of the law, in a most inclement season for three nights and three days were they exposed to a con- [constant] stant [stand] rain, with high winds. Poor Johnson had a child, I believe about two years old, which took cold and died in about twenty hours. Warden was turned out for Bing shelter to some of Bottrel's [Bottle's] family; Cocks for receiving Gothard's children others were threatened, and forced to geek pardon hy begging. All have been com- [compelled] Pelled [celled] to hire, subject to a quarter's notice. There are but few of the originals left. Those places that have been let are principally let to agricultural persons in the neigh- [neighbourhood] bourhood, [boyhood] which, 1 am told, is the policy adopted in pre- [preference] ference [France] to the Land members, but withal it does not appear ust [st] there is much above half let. A day was appointed or all to attend at the Marlboro' Arms, Witney, to hire ; a you would have been amused to see our Jesuit, asa Jack in office, showing off, first by selecting the ushering them into theadjoining [the adjoining] room, and then ing his hands and screwing up bis lips before he deign'd Ly his hands on the shoulder, or gave his significant ned ours me of us that we might go before the lawyer and resign il rechold-to [Freehold-to] sign an agreement to become a tenant-at- [atm] mf With all conditions framed according to law. Somuch [Much] wo However, myself and two or three others of th hot called when the clerk announced that the business [C] day was done, and they must send to London for bu imstructions. [instructions] The next morning I had two pig- [pigeon] wn. thie. [the] buy my pigs. So that you will see the report the preat [great] 1 8 but you know I had the promise of 0'C -. I reported I should claim my right. me, or r i was that they did not know what to do with length I at was the cause, I know not. However, at ian [in] sangeet ncn [non] ene Twn [Town] eo, [C] arrears o Mr On Objection to let. In 5 said I would pay 2 ar. 's owe coin, say shares. That he up at. After all, as it will not sui [su] - ly, and as a hase [has] sult [salt] me to move tr Six months rent, that is to Lady-day. That is my ' 80 much for liberty,-Your's truly, Gzorcr [Score] 'the propriety of dining things I have been to town. In the first place, I must tell After this evidence had been tender j who appeared to prosseute, [prosecute] said he should not feel it his made securely, I ta A NEw [New] Yerar's [Year's] FEStTIviTy.-It [Festival.-It] wi thatatthe [that] latedinner [late dinner] of together on as man Occasio [Occasion] Possible, fae [far] the purpose of promoting a a ee be tha [that] tome and thus promoting the general interests also that Jeremiah say a) wee Pee Promote and foster that feclag, [flag] off i assembled would accept of it, a fat t arisin [arising] [C] New Queen Hotel, in Market-street, ne 2 . ost [out] of that esta- [east- Testament] ment, [men] . it ought to do, a gi of I arn an] occupied, as c part. present again on this occasion a fair sprinkling ferent [front] bodies of public authority, and also of the publi [public] spirited inhabitants of the town, The proceedin [proceeding] eve also calculated, in an eminent d a hat ood [od] understandi [understand] egree, [degree] preserve t at g understanding, which we are happy to say prevails amongst our different bodies of authority, by showing the necessity of all of them acting in harmony for the promo- [promotion] tion [ion] of the public weal, Joseph Brook, Esq., with his nataite, [native] keen bag rg wos [wis] and kindly feeling, on the occasion, havi [have] en unanimous to the post; and Mr. William Barker called to the vice-chair. There were the large room of the new hotel could a table had to be set in an adjoining room. The dinner was everything that could be wished for, both as it respected the quantity and the quality of the viands; and ample justice having been done to these, the more stirring and intellectual business of the evening commenced. We regret that our space will not permit of our doing ample justice to those proceedings at this late period of the even- [evening] ing of publication aed [ad] we shall therefore content ourselves with a mere sketch of the proceedings-promising to com- [complete] plete [plate] the filling in (to use the artist's phrase) next week. After the cloth had been drawn, Non Nobis [Nibs] Domini [Dominion] was given bya [by] party of glee-singers, followed, on the part of the Chairman, by the healths [health] of Her Majesty, Prince Albert, and the Rest of the Royal Family, The Army and Navy, to which latter toast Sergeant-Major Wigney [Wine] returned thanks. The Vice-Chairman, in complimentary terms, proposed W. R. C. Stansfield, Esq., our Borough Member. Mr John Freeman next roposed, [proposed] in an eloquent speech, The Huddersfield Magistracy, which having been duly honoured, was ably acknowledged by the Chairman, who concluded by giving Lord Campbell, and the Bar of England, to which Mr. C.S. Floyd responded. -Mr. Jacoms, [Jacomb] sen., solicitor, gave, in an excellent s h, The Town and Trade of Huddersfield and in doing so, reverted to the various and important improvements which had taken place in the borough within the past thirty one years, and expressed himself convin [convince] that the improvements now going on, and contemplated, would tend still more to elevate the position of the town. (Hear, hear. )-The toast was responded to by Mr. Joun [John] Haicu, [Hack] who said he really felt very great pleasure in again return- [returning] ing to the place where he first commenced the days of his manhood, to observe such rapid strides of rogress [progress] of a nature so little characterised by wild speculation, which had been made during his absence- [absence] Mr. W. L. HEspP [Hesp] briefly proposed the Institutions of Hudders- [Udders- Huddersfield] field, and said he considered them as one of the noblest features of the town. (Hear, hear.) Mr. J. C. Laycock responded in an interesting speech, in which he expressed his full concurrence in the sentiment of Mr. Hesp, in refe- [free- reference] ference [France] to the charitable institutions.-Mr. VARLEY next proposed, amidst great applause, The health of Jere [Here] iley, [Riley] Esq., which was duly acknowledged by Mr. Riley, who expressed the great pleasure he had derived in being in any way able to contribute to the good feel- [feeling] ing of the entertainment. (Hear, hear, hear.) The Fine Arts, and the health of Mr. Howell, was given in a complimentary speech by Mr. JosEPH [Joseph] SHAW, and ac- [acknowledged] knowledged [knowledge] by Mr. Howell.-Mr. JosePpH [Joseph] SHAW again rose, and in an eloquent speech, proposed- The Liberty of the Press, -Mr. J. J. SKYRME, one of the proprietors of the Chronicle, responded.- The Chairman was proposed by Mr. T. W. whic [which was drunk with ausial [Australia] bonours, [honours] and acknowledged in an excellent speech by the worthy PRESIDENT. The next toast, 'The health of the Vice- [Vice chairman] Chairman, was proposed by Mr. EastTwoop, [Eastwood] in a few eulogistic remarks. The ViIcE-CHAIRMAN [Voice-CHAIRMAN] returned thanks in au interesting speech, and was followed by Mr. A. HaTuHorN, [Hutton] resident agent of the Ramsden Estate, who gave The Improvement Commissioners. -Mr. T. P. CROSLAND, in a very good speech returned thanks for him- [himself] self and colleagues, and said it was their determination to do all they possibly could to contribute to the improvement of the town. (Hear, hear.) He was supported by Mr. JERE [HERE] RILEY.-Mr. proposed- The Ladies, and Mr. HaTHORN [Hawthorn] responded, after which the Chairman bid the company good night, and retired, accompanied by other gentlemen. A large company, however, still remained behind, and kept up the conviviality of the evening to a lite hour. SPRING CIRCUITS OF THE JUDGES.-The following is the arrangement made for the Spring Circuits - Home Circuit-Lord Campbell and Mr. Baron Parke. Western Circuit-The Lord Chief Baron and Mr. Baron Martin. Norfotk [Norfolk] Circuit-Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas and Mr. Justice Erle. [Ere] Midland Circuit-Mr. Baron Alderson and Mr. Justice Coleridge. Oxford Circuitt-Mr. [Circuit-Mr] Justice Patteson and Mr. Justice Talfourd [Balfour] Northern Circuit-Mr. Justice Cresswell and Mr. Baron Platt. North Wales and Chester Circuit-Mr. Justice Maule. South Wales aud [and] Chester-Mr. Justice Williams, who will, after proceeding through South Wales, join Mr. Justice Maule at Chester Vacation Judge-Mr. Justice Wightman. Mr, HENRY PHILiips's [Phillips's] MusicaL [Musical] ENTERTAINMENT.-Mr. Phillips gave his delightful musical entertainment, entitled Village, in the Mechanics' Institution hall, Lindley, on Monday evening last. There was a crowded and respectable attendance, who appeared highly delighted. Mr. Phillips was evidently suffering from the severe indis- [India- indisposition] position under whicn [which] he has been labouring for some time, but notwithstanding this circumstance most of his songs were given with great spirit, feeling, and humour, and in two or three instances were rapturously encored. THE LaTE [Late] ACCIDENT To Mr. CHARLES HatstEap.-The [Hampstead.-The] fatal accident which some short time ago occurred to Mr. Halstead whilst passing along Albion-street, by the falling of a skep [Sep] of cloth from the warehouse of Messrs. Craft and Stell, as our readers will be aware, placed the unfortunate gentleman's widow and family in a very painful position. In consequence of this circumstance application was made to the firm for compensation. The claim was immediately entertained, and Mr. Cook, of Dewsbury, on behalf of Messrs. Craft and Stell, and Mr. Thomas Mallinson, on be- [behalf] half of the family, were appointed to make the necessary investigations and apportion the award-with the option of ing in George Crossland. Esq., as umpire. Mr. Clough acted as the legal adviser of Mrs. Halstead, and Mr. Lay- [Laycock] cock for Messrs. Craft and Steel. After the circumstances had been thoroughly investigated, the two arbitrators, without calling in the umpire, arranged the matter, and awarded the sum of 500 as compensation. The decision was honourably acceded to by the firm, and the amount was last week paid over to the family. HovusewaRMING [swarming] DINNER aT THE ROSE anp [an] CROWN HoTeEL.-On [Hotel.-On] Wednesday evening last, upwards of eighty gentlemen dined with Mr. Reid, the new landlord of the Rose and Crown, Kirkgate, to commemorate his under- [undertaking] taking the management of this establishment. The chair was filled by Mr. R. Rhodes, and the vice-chair by Mr. Hudson. The dinner was served up in a style reflecting great credit on Mr. Reid's management, and the viands were generally pronounced excellent. The usual loyal, patriotic, and complimentary toasts were duly given and responaed [responded] to, and the company enjoyed themselves with songs and converse sweet until the we sma' [ma] hours reminded tkem [them] ef morn's approach. The proceedings were agreeably varied by the strains of an excellent band. --e- - HUDDERSFIELD POLICE COURT. (Continued from our 7th page. ) THURSDAY, JANUARY 16. (Before JosEPH [Joseph] STaRKEY, [Starkey] Esq.) . ALLEGED HicHway [Highway] RopBery. [Robbery] Robert Dizon [Dixon] was charged by Jobn [John] Loodin, [Loading] commission agent, with commit- [committing] ting a highway robbery upon him on the 26th of May, 1850. The prosecutor said that on that day he went to Halifax on business, and missing the train he set off to walk home, about half-past ten o'clock, having 8s 6d. in his pocket. He called at a public-house, at Salterhebble, [saleable] to get a lamp lit After leaving there, and on passing through Elland Wood, when he was attacked by six men, and knocked down. Three of them kneeled on his body, whilst the othe s [the s] searched his pockets. He seized hold of one of them by the breast, and it being a fine moon-light night he reco [recon] present more than accommodate; and gnised [Aniseed] him as the prisoner, whom he had seen on different occasions at Halifax. He gave information at Elland on the same evening, and the fol- [following] lowing morning at the police-office, but nothing could be heard of the parties until Wednesday evening, when he accidentally met with the prisoner at the Unicorn Inn. In defence, Dixon, who is a brushmaker, [brush maker] in the employ of Mr. Young, New-street. called evidence which distinctly estab- [stables- established] lished [wished] an alibt, [Albert] proving that at the time of the alleged robbery he was working at Northamptonshire. , Mr. J. I. Freeman, ty to press the charge. Mr. Starkey said he thought wa ovary proper to take, and immediately dis- [dis the] the defendant. . aiNe [sine] 4 WaTcH [Watch] AND KNIFE.-Samuel Hixchliffe [Hinchliffe] was charged with stealing a watch, value 1, and a knife, value 6d., from the person of Joseph Dyson. It appears that on Monday night, the 13th instant, the prosecutor, who is a cloth-dresser, was drinking at the Dog Inn, Kirk- [Kirkgate] gate. Inthe [Another] course of the evening he got beastly drunk, and was placed by himself in the snug, where, however, he was shortly joined by six other persons. g their presence he fell on the floor, and was picked up by the risoner. [prisoner] Shortly afterwards, about ten o'clock, inspector rier [river] came to apprehend Hinchliffe for non-payment of a fine on a previous charge, when lhe [he] asked the landlord to advance him the amount claimed on the watch. The landlord declined. He then asked the officer to get it pawned for him, which Brier promised to do, but being suspicious, he retained it in his possession until the follow- [following] ing morning, when it was claimed by the prosecutor. The risoner, [prisoner] in defence, said he had purchased the watch and Enife [Knife] of a person called Higgins, for 14s. 6d., about eight o'clock the same evening, at Nick Hannigan's [Hanging's] beer-shop. Hinchliffe was committed to take his trial at the sessions, THE LaTE [Late] STABBING Case an eae [ear] EL Hat. Morrison was charged with inflicting a severe i a sharp instrument on John Powey, [Power] with intent to do him ievous [ives] bodily harm, on the night of the 26th December. The circumstances of the case have been previously re- [rested] rted, [red] and will be fresh in the recollection of our readers. Kince [Since] the occurrence the unfortunate man has been in the , and for fourteen days was considered in great danger. He appeared to be suffering from excessive phy- [why- physical] sical [musical] weakness, but gave his evidence in a very ward manner. Mr. J. I. Freeman, who appeared for the prisoner, addressed the bench in support of the case being treated summarily, and called Mr, Lodge to prove t their had been gross provocation, and that Morrison wane a ve ceable, [cable] quiet man. Mr. Starkey said he was satis- [sates- satisfied] fi that the whole of the circumstances were of a very wa ing nature, but the crime was so inhuman and brut [but] 7 that ke thought he should not be doing his he i not commit the prisoner to York. Bail was refused, an Inspector Brier was bound over to prosecute. infi [inf] MR. PAXTON HOOD'S LECTURES. On the evenings of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday last, Mr. Paxton Hood delivered a series of four lectures on Literature and Labour, The Morality of Wit' and Humour, John Milton, and Europe its Races, Revolutions, and Destinies, in the Philosophical Hall. The subjects were very eloquently treated, and the readings admirably given. The lectures were respectably attended, and the audience expressed their approval by repeated bursts of applause. LITERATURE AND LABOUR. Mr. Hoop, on presenting himself was loudly ap- [applauded] plauded, [pleaded] and after expressing his regret that the audience was not larger, he proceeded to say he could not under- [understand] stand why literature and labour had been so long divorced-it was an unnatural state of things. Now, if they looked into the Scriptures they would find that all the most touching and beautiful poetry they con- [contained] tained [gained] had been written by men connected with pastoral life-by working men. The Psalms had been written by a working-man, and were all full of the most beautiful images sketched from pastorallife. [pastoral life] He supposed if Moses wrote those five books of the Pentateuch--and he supposed if Moses penned that great drama as Byron called it, the Book of Job-none of them were penned whilst he served inside of the tabernacle, but when he was keeping the flock of his father Jethro, Some of the greatest names in Scripture were associated with labour,-indeed the trade of carpenter seemed to have been canonised. So that he was not altogether out of the way in saying that the most illustrious names in connection with sacred literature had been names of persons moving through the world of real right down labour. They would find it was the same if they came , down toa [to] later period. There was thatold [that old] blind man who went moving through and through the old cities of Greece-the man who wrote those immortal poems about which the world had been disputing ever since- [since homer] Homer. He labourer, and so were a number of the Grecian poets. (Hear, hear.) Coming down to later times it was still the same. Shakspere [Shakespeare] was a poor man's child, as the great Yorkshire poet Elliot had said. And coming to the present day, they found the same fact applicable. (Hear, hear.) These were trite i enough to say, and some would be thinking we knew all this very well before. Yes, only they needed to forbish [furnish] these things up again. There were many who thought labour was not to be con- [connected] nected [connected] with literature. Now, when he saw a man living altogether upon labour without literature-or aian [ana] living altogether upon literature without labour -he could not help but think such aman [man] was very much like a human crab, going all on one side. But how were they to bring these things in harmony to- [together] gether [ether] again (Hear, hear.) Dr. Southey, in editing the poems of Jacob Jones, a footman, had remarked in his preface that he did so because the world would hear no more about self-educated men. He had not proved himself to be a prophet on this matter, for since his day there had been more poets of the self-educated class than there was before. Since the press came in, since knowledge came in, it was wonderful how poor men had taken down their harps and struck tones that made their senses dance again. It was strange that the tones should be so well preserved by men with such rude and rustic tastes, and born under such rude and rustic circumstances (Hear, hear.) He did not know why poor men should not be brought to understand in the greatest and highest sense the great heroisms of Plutarch -to feel their spirits shiver beneath the dramatic touches of Sophocles and Aschylus-or [Satchels-or] at least of our own great Shakespere, [Shakespeare] as well as those who were said to have refined tastes. (Hear, hear.) Some people had a notion that ideas were almost useless things in the world. The fact was ideas ruled them all. The world of ideas was the most important to them-all. Take ideas out of the world and they would just be like so many pigs inasty. [inst] Now all this stone-this wood, these pictures -no great beauties by the bye (referring to the oma- [oa- ornamental] mental paintings in the hall)-were in a man's head before they formed part of that building. The man looked at the idea, and took it out of his head and put iit [it] in that building, and he (Mr. Hood,) supposed old ; Pluto or Tubal Cain had the hammer in their 'heads j before they made it. The steam engines-the great ships-like war horses, snorting away over the sea-and their pictures done by Raphael-or, what was far better understood by some of them, Sir David Wilkie's Blind Fiddler, were all just so many petrified ideas. Ignorant people, who were as impudent a; they were ignorant- [ignorant say] say let's be prudent, never mind these ideas, these thoughts, and these books; the world has never been any better since these books came in. (Hear, hear.) Some of these manufacturers could not understand that a man should live on his ideas-they rather think that a man should live upon some hundreds a year. A man who was contented to be immured in poverty that he may live in that higher and purer world by himself-it was such men as these that struck out ideas, which were then caught up by others, and passing perhaps through the whole world, were brought out, and revolutionised everything. There was old Roger Bacon-he was fond of throwing out ideas which the world had eversince [ever since] been taking up. (Hear, hear.) It was not men born in' plenty and living in luxuriant chambers that threw out ideas, but hard-working men. (Hear, hear.) Thus it was that genius waseducated [was educated] He could give them many instances of this. Now, there was the greatest work of Sir Walter Scott-it was not one of his novels, or his poems-no, it was none of these-it was when he got into one hundred thousand pounds debt, and neither went to York Castle, the Old Toll Booth at Edinbro', [Edinburgh] nor anywhere else-but said, nobly, I am in a difficulty, and I will get out of it. Now, that was a sublime then he spun all those beautiful novels which had been the delight of the world ever since-and paid the debt. (Applause.) There was John Clare, too, a poor lad, who was placed in such hard circumstances that he never had three day's schooling in his life-but he managed, somehow or other, to get hold of some education. For a long time, however, he never read anything but the Bible; but, he one day got hold of a copy of Thomson's Seasons, and was so delighted with it that he never rested until he saved up his halfpennies and pennies and raised 18d., with which he set off and walked several miles to Stam- [Steam- Stamford] ford, having travelled the most of the night, and pur- [our- purchased] chased this work. It would be no exaggerated state- [statement] ment [men] to say that there was not a more sublime man in Stamford than that poor boy whilst he was waiting to purchase his eighteen-penny copy of Seasons. And though in after life his mind gave way, and poor Clare was confined within the walls of an asylum-he was ever, in brighter moments, pouring forth his song in the most exquisite and touching sweet- [sweetness] ness. (Hear, hear.) In illustration of his subject he the poor man, who, perhaps, never had a half-penny- [pennyworth] worth of education in his life. Great things had been written in prose, he acknowledged, but poetry was the everlasting teacher-it was the everlasting changer and modifier. They might depend upon it, the poet made men and fashioned men. It was not the coercive force that shaped a man-it was the influential. (Hear.) Sometimes this had been done by poets of the working- [winkles] class in an illustrious way-and. sometimes it had been done in a humble way. (Hear.) Mr. Hood next pro- [proceeded] ceeded [needed] to quote from the works of Robert Nichol, as compared with those of Beranger-and, [Be ranger-and] afterwards, from the writings of John Clare, Critchley Prince, and Cooper, in illustration of the subject-matter of his lec- [le- lecture] ture. [true] The portions read were selected with great taste -and rendered with fine feeling, and were loudly ap- [applauded] plauded. [pleaded] In concluding, he said that the pursuit of knowledge was only worthy when it was suited to their inner life. It was quite necessary that all should have an ideal-that they should live for something-for they might depend upon it that what a man's inner life was so would be his outer man. The idea that was in aman [man] shaped his outer actions. He might say that a man brought out just that idea that was within him. If it was a noble one, he lived a noble life-if it was a mammon worship, railway-mania-loving idea-they had it in the outer life. (Hear, hear.) There was one cha- [ca- characteristic] racteristic [characteristic] peculiar to poets of the working class-an intense love of home-life-a eoncentration [concentration] of the affec- [affect- affections] tions [tins] upon these small circles around which they had moved. He supposed this feeling sanctified all that it touched. What a poor lifeless thing would poetry be without it He fancied wherever they found those high and noble feelings of home they would find the kindliest feelings towards man in general. (Hear.) These were the spirits that sympathised with the ills of the world and if needs be ne, into the for the great principles o om and liberty. (Hear, hear.) These sentiments existed in the poets of the working classes especially. He had spoken of Nichol in particular, because he thought he was the noblest of them all. He thought that Nichol, in the next generation, would take his stand before Robert Burns. In Burns there was an exquisite sensibility, but there was not that higher tone of morality which would be looked for in future time, and which pervaded the whole of Nichol's poetry-combined with the sensibility of Burns. (Hear, hear.) Nichol died at twenty-three- [three] - an age when Burns had produced nothing worth speaking of, And when they thought of his disadvantages-how he had to struggle for his daily bread, even to the last moment-for he died in cireumstances [circumstances] of sorrow, know- [knowing] ing not how his family were to be provided for-they would, with him, express their high admiration for his genius, (Applause.) MORALITY OF WIT AND HUMOUR. Mr. Hoop on presenting himself, said he should endeavour to show that the ludicrous-wit and humour, and all those things which went to excite laughter, had a moral mission in the world. (Hear.) Judgment, fancy, imagination, the power to analyse and synthe- [scythe- synthesise] sise, [side] to see through things, to bring together-all these faculties of mind had their acknowledged mission in the world. And he supposed they would find in some region of the intellect, faculties which were intended to be acted upon by those exciteants-those [excitement-those] things they called wit and humour, and which caused laughter. How was it then that the one was thought to be 50 impious an action, by some men, and the other 80 beneficial a one; that imagination, fancy, judgment, in the plains of Midian. [Medina] THE HUDDERSFIELD CHRONICLE, SATURDAY, JANUARY 18, 1851. 5 that wit, humour, langhter, [laughter] were spoken of as real foes toman. [Roman] Richard Steele had said He does a good thing for us who tells us something that makes us pleased, and the Vicar of Wakefield said he liked a man who was pleased, and would laugh without know- [knowing] ing the reason why. (Hear.) If they looked a little into the elements of these things, they found how wisdom was written in them all-how there was a high and beautiful economy in them all,-in fact how laugh- [laughter] ter, [te] satire, wit, humour, were the great conserva- [Conservative- conservative] tive [tie] influences of society,-the great preservers of the social system. The pover [over] to laugh at error was the power to see truth. (Hear, hear.) There was something within man that perceived the harmonies of nature, and it was a departure from this harmony, this order, to incongruity which provoked his laughter. All their laughter took its rise from this perception of the ludicrousand [ludicrous and] incongruous. Sometimes they had a very broad departure from nature. They called that caricature. Sometimes they had this broad departure connected with a moral purpose. This they called the grotesque. Sometimes it was of a bright, sunshiny character, and this they called humour. Sometimes it was agloomy, [gloomy] pungent, sharp, razor-like development of this principle. This they called wit. (Hear.) These were all departures from the obvious order, harmony, propriety, and beauty of things; and there must be a departure from this propriety somewhere or other, before there could be wit and laughter. (Hear.) He would endeavour to classify the modes and mani- [main- manifestations] festations [stations] of this wit and humour. He thought . the subject an interesting one, because he must believe that wit and humour had their purpose in the world. In this age he thought their pur- [our- purpose] pose was to hold up vice in its true character, and satirize it. Some of them could not see an error until it was so enlarged that it provoked within them laughter. It was this incongruity leading to surprise that was the foundation of wit and humour; and in saying this, he might remark in passing, that wit and humour were moral teachers. There were not wanting instances of men who had, and were now teaching the world by shaping out the manifestations of this power. They might take Dean Swift, though he was a man he did not like in all things, and they would find that wit ; was the very essence of his writings, and rendered them, with all their uncleannegs, [inclines] pleasurable. And was this not because there lay at the bottom of all these broad exaggerations of his, truth (Hear, hear.) Then there was Cervantes. They knew very well that chivalry received its last death-blow from his admirable satire in the inimitable characters of Don Quixote and Sancha [Chances] Pancho. [Punch] Now the great moral of that book- [Booth] the great design of it, he took it, was to give about the final clap-the final blow-to a great lie that existed in Europe at that day. (Hear, hear.) He knew nothing so terrible as banter. It did not seem a likely thing, but really it was the way in which men were pushed out of the world. It often served the purpose of long dialectic discourses. (Hear, hear.) Now he laid it down as a principle that they were all worshippers of beauty; and it was because they were so that they noticed the departures from it. Thus it often happened that men who had the highest perception of beauty ' were always looking for the humourous--the [humorous--the] incon- [income- incongruous] gruous-as [grouse-as -as] in the case of Keats and Hood. (Hear, hear.) There was a great difference between the wit and the humourist [humorist] after all. The humourist [humorist] was always cheerful. He came out into society and into company. The wit, on the contrary, was not fond of . Society, but sat in his corner and sneered at the world. , The essential characteristic of humour was diffusion ; the essential characteristic of wit was concentration. One was defensive-the other aggressive. Humour says, show me something that I may protect. Wit says, show me something that I may battle with. (Hear, hear.) Humour was especially English. Wit, if not especially French, was especially Celtic. The cheery brightness of the Englishman when he made them laugh was obviously quite different from that which made them laugh in the wit of a Frenchman. The Irish were singularly witty, butthe [birth] great char- [characteristic] acteristic [characteristic] of their wit was that it turned an idea inside out. (Hear.) He had dwelt upon this point -the distinction between wit and humour because people were very much in the habit of confounding them. It was quite possible that a man might be a great wit without having any humour, or a great humourist [humorist] without having any wit. It was astonishing what anumber [number] of witty things he had heard throughout the country on platforms and in other places, which excited no laughter on the other hand he had heard humourous [humorous] things uttered, which, though barren of wit, produced roars of laughter. (Hear, hear.) There were different kinds of wit -verbal, mental, and moral. In illustration Mr. Hood then quoted Southey's humorous poem, March to Moscow. The other day, when visiting Cambridge, he met with one of the most strange instances of moral incongruity. He found that the learned professors of political economy and some other equally grave and important subjects had perhaps two or three hundred a year-whilst the professor of 'the grave things of cooking partridges got 2,000 a year. Now this to him was one of the greatest incongruities 'he had ever heard of (Hear.) After referring to a ca- [caricature] ricature [picture] which appeared in Punch some where 'one person was represented as makiug [making] the other believe his nose was made of wax, Mr.Hood said this was merely an illustration of the fact that the strong ruled the weak. The strong minded man always had and always would ; inpress [impress] himself upon the weak minded man, and govern 'the world. (Hear, hear.) His object had been to show them that wit and humour had an intention in the world. He thought a good hearty burst of laughter was the most terrible and effectual way of putting a falsity down. He fancied that when they got a people fairly tolaugh [to laugh] at an error its day was gone. (Hear, hear.) They could not laugh at truth very long unless they at- [attached] tached [ached] to it something of error; nor could they laugh at virtue unless they tacked to it some vice. (Hear, hear.) This age had been felicitous in the possession of men of humour who wrote with a high moral purpose, and in consequence their labours had been felt through- [throughout] out society. (Hear.) Mr. Hood then eoncluded [concluded] by reading, amidst roars of laughter, several humorous extracts from the works of Hood, Ingoldsby, Eliza Cook, and others. JOHN MILTON. Mr. Hoop, in again presenting himself, introduced the subject of his lecture by remarking that the study of biography appeared to be less attractive to a Hudders- [Udders- Huddersfield] field audience than questions of a much lighter and un- [unimportant] important character. It was something like going through a museum, where the great bulk of people were much more struck with the thousands of gay insects, of the Coleoptera tribe for instance, than with intended to select instances from poetry-the poetry of sent what sort of beings there were in the past-a sort i they passed by these huge memorials of the past to those great magnificent old monster mammoths that had come drifting down from distant ages, to tell the pre- [Pref] of wreck floating up from the seas of time. And yet, look at those little bright things in the glass case, with theirgolden [their golden] wings and purple armour. All this was very much like what was done in looking at the great names of biography. John Milton might be considered asa great awful mammoth of literature; and yet, there was scarcely a Carabide [Carried] in literature that would not excite more attention in men's minds than this man. There was too much of the butterfly business-a disposition to pay a sort of homage to the Carabides [Charybdis] of literature, and to loose sight of such men as Milton, in the psesent [present] day. (Hear, hear.) Now, he did not know on the whole whether God ever did let another man like Milton live, and yet there were many people who did not care a rap about him. Curious though this might seem it was not the less true. The man who was sound at all points-the great poet, gentleman, Christian, scholar, and citizen; and yet, he would be bound to say, there was scarcely aman [man] in the world who had contrived to get a name, who would not elicit more applause than the name of this great and awful-this magnificient [magnificent] Hebrew soul. A man who put them more in mind of such men as Moses, Elisha, or Isaiah, and stood out in strong contrast to these latter day men, who went hopping about the world like shrimps. (Hear, hear.) In looking over the pages of biography they were struck with the great number of wasted lives that there were to be found. They might take as instances the lives of Beau Brummel, George Selwyn, Sir Francis Delavel. [Delver] (Hear, hear.) For the most part, modern biography had come to this-that a man, living in some particular neighbourhood died worth a little money, and his friend immediately had his biography, of some four or five hundred pages, written. A precious lot of trash these biographies generally were. And yet, these very same men would pass by the lives of such men as John Milton as unworthy of notice. (Hear, hear.) He wanted that evening to say a word about Milton, not so much as a poet, but as a man. He thought it high time there was something like a resurrection of this phase of Milton's cha. [ca] racter. [Carter] To him, Milton's character as a man seemed to be of much more importance than his character as a poet. That no doubt was very great, but inasmuch as manhood was always greater than poetry-and inas- [ins- inasmuch] much as the best poem a man could make was his own life-and inasinuch [inasmuch] as John Milton lived so noble and glorious a life, it seemed of much more importance that they should read his life than his Paradise Lost. He would not say a word in disparagement of this poem, for individually, he thought it was one of the greatest things ever written by a mortal, but magnificent as it was, it seemed to his (Mr. Hood's) mind still less than the life of Milton himself. (Hear, hear.) It was not of much matter that Milton was born in Bread-street, in London, just about the close of the Elizabethian [Elizabeth] era- [erin] when many great lives of other days were just folding in their fires. It was not of much matter, when or where Milton was born, but he was born about the close of the reign of James I, in Bread-street, of a father who was called ascrivener [scrivener] or notary. John Milton was not born to wealth, but there was sufficient to send him to Cambridge, at which place he acquired a high degree of fame. He, however, left college very abruptly-not as Dr. Johnson had insinuated in disgrace, but because his own feelings and views were so strongly averse to the practices of the University. (Hear, hear.) Milton then began his poetic life, and the first thing he wrote in his earliest years was immortal. Before he had reached the age of many se Milton had written things thoroughly imperishable-that would not die. Before he was 28 he had written Comus, [Comes] Il' Penserosa, [Penrose] and were spoken of as agents doing good in the world, and L'Allegro. The Comus [Comes] contained some of the most beautiful things that ever fell from his pen, very different indeed in their cast and tone to Paradise Lost, but all developing the structure of the man's mind-the moral structure, the stern severity and inflexibility of character which characterised the man throughout the whole of life. There was more of the Italian mould-not of Dante, but of Tasso, [Tass] than was found in his later ms. But notwithstanding the difference of the mould, its principles were the same. Thus, for instance, in Paradise Lost-the great poem of the later years of his life -as in Comus, [Comes] the first great poem, they had two great impersonations-the impersonations of evil. In one they had the sensual devil, in the other the intellec- [intellect- intellectual] tual [tal] devil. In Comus [Comes] they had a full length picture of the former, as the embodiment of evils which were likely to attack the sensibilities of young men when the spirit and the fancies were in high fever. He thought that Comus [Comes] would be a very appropriate study for his young friends. He fancied that the whole thoughts, the whole characteristic features of this poem might be well pondered over by per- [persons] sons commencing a life of discipline, and of moral endeavour. (Hear, hear.) Mr. Hood then explained the conception of Comus, [Comes] and quoted a passage in illustration of his remarks, and then proceeded to say that he should have liked to have gone further into the matter had time permitted-to have traced the centre thought of the poem, for every book that was worth reading had its centre-every drama had its centre. They could not understand Shakspere [Shakespeare] until they found the central thought and there was a central thought in Paradise Lost, and in every book of inspira- [inspire- inspiration] tion. [ion] (Hear, hear.) He thought the central thought of Comus [Comes] was sensationalism-in finery- [finer yin] in life-in art -in poetry. After the issue of these poems Milton's education might be said to have begun. True, he had written things which were now thought to be great things, and which were sufficiently striking to attract the notice of Sir Henry Wotton; but with this exception, Milton may be said to have started upon his great educational tour-to see great men, to talk with distant cities and foreign scenes, to acquire for himself a library of great books, which were then more readily to be acquired on the Continent than in England-alone. In every step of his progress he found something in the Italian cities of that timg [time] to admire-noticing the great Italian republics, though then just dying out of Venice and of Florence, talking with great men like Galileo, the Deodatti, [Depart] and the great Grotius-thenobleexponent of the law of sea and land. Under such influences, Milton's mind must have been much more enriched than the mind of England generally. John Milton carried this aliment about with him, and knew how to admire what he saw-a very difficult thing. Dr. Arnold had somewhere said that the hopeless character in this world was the man who could not admire. Whata [What] disease that was, It was the small pox of the soul-which few men recovered from. Why the world to sucha [such] man was just a mere piece of mechanism. He saw nothing wonderful in it. (Hear, hear.) If they could see nothing wonderful about them, it was because their own souls had got such a thick skin-the pores were so uncommonly impervious, that it was impossible the wonders about them could penetrate their souls. But John Milton, passing through all that society, possessed himself of that mental aliment which afterwards drifted down to the present times, in those great poems and political treatises which he wrote. (Hear, hear.) They had seen men, and he (Mr. Hood) had seen men who said they were placed in circum- [circus- circumstances] stances where there was nothing to admire-nothing to call out their feelings. The fact was, every man was placed in circumstances where there was something to admire-something greater than himself. (Hear, hear.) Well, during this time Milton was crossing the Alps, seeing something of the great mountain and lake scenery of the country, and pushing on towards Greece, when circumstances occurred that immediately brought him home. A squabble had broken out. Charles and his parliament could not get on at all. Charles was deter- [determined] mined to have it all his own way, and the parliament was determined he should not. The country, of course, was rent in twain by those two parties. When Hobbes, the great philosopher of Malmesbury, heard of it, he got out of the way-a circumstance quite in accordance with the tenor of his philosophy. But when John Milton heard of it, just as he was pushing into Greece, he thought it was disgraceful that he should be travel- [travelling] ling from home while his country was fighting for liberty. (Hear, hear.) John Milton believed that man, the individual, had work to do in the world, and as long as he did that business well he was also doing some- [something] thing for future generations. (Hear, very well that when Milton arrived in this country he did not take the helm of state, nor lead the vessel through the stortay [story] waters and the shifting shoals and sands but they knew this that his views had a moral influence in giving energy and strength of purpose to the people of his day. Who was to say how much of virtue and moral strength he infused into the men of his time (Hear, hear.) Perhaps the most singular thing of this period was that Milton did not commit himself to either party. He so stood that he could lift up his voice ugainst [against] the king, and also against the protector and parliament, when he found they were restricting and endangering the people's liberties; and whilst he pleaded for the liberty of the body, he also pleaded for the liberty of the soul. (Hear.) He did not know that it was necessary that he (Mr. Hood) should longer dwell upon the details of Milton's life, when he returned to England. In time he became a schoolmaster-a cir- [circumstance] cumstance [cum stance] for which Dr. Johnson took occasion to sneer at him. After this John Milton married a Mistress or Miss Mary Powell, the daughter of a certain Justice Powell ; and Justice Powells [Powell] in those days did business in a very cavalier sort of a way. They sung cavalier songs. drunk pretty deep, and kept it up cavalierly, late at nights, in a very roistering manner. All this Miss Powell had been accustomed to, but when she became Mrs. Milton, and went to her husband's house, what a change-such an alteration. Nothing heard there but the sound of that old organ-for John Milton played on the organ wonderfully well. Better have had a pipe, no doubt she thought something that she could have danced to. (Laughter.) Then there were no songs at all, unless it were those grave great songs that came from her husband's genius. Again, there was no feast- [feasting] ing at John Milton's; it was quite the opposite of her father's house and so off she scampered. (Laughter.) She probably thought he would go after her; but no, he would nut. John Milton said he did not think she was his wife. Then came out all those convenient expletives of atheist, infidel. Milton was in hot water, but boldly defended himself, and at last intimated his serious intention of taking another wife. Mrs. Milton came back immediately. (Laughter,) An arrangement was made for a meeting, which took place, and ever afterwards they lived together happily. (Hear, hear.) And when the cavaliers were driven out of the country he gave Mr. and Mrs. Powell protection, and supported them. (Applause.) There was no revengeful feeling in John Milton's nature. After the death of his first wife Milton took a second, who seemed to have been a perfect matrimonial soul and after this came his apologies for and defences of the people of England; books that were now seldom read-and yet was there any reason why they should not Every literary society was in- [incomplete] complete that had not these prose works of John Milton. They were books that had far more of practical life in them than Paradise Lost. It was the duty of every young man to read Milton's prose works. (Hear, hear.) They advocated real liberty-not the clap-trap liberty of the present day, but the liberty of the soul- [soul of] of the true man; and it was the duty of the young citizen who wanted to see sound principles enunciated in politics in high and noble language to read these books. (Hear, hear.) Let them begin to read his Areopagitica, Aromatic, then pass on to his Defencca Defence] of the People of England, and it was impossible that they could read page after page, and book after book, without having formed an intense veneration for liberty. He (Mr. Hood) did not know whether they were aware that it was whilst writing one of these Apologies that John Milton was smitten with blindness. This Apology, written in reply to a work by the celebrated philosopher, Salmatius, [Salamis] was said to have broken that philosopher's heart. They had heard of men's heads being broken by books, but breaking of hearts by such means was rather an unusual course. However, be it might, Milton was told by his physician that if he prosecuted the writing of that book he wouid [would] lose his sight. Milton replied that it was necessary the book should be written-it was written, and Milton lost his sight. (Applause.) Well, they would recollect an attack was made upon him that God had especially smitten hin [in] with blindness for writing against the king. During this time he was visited by James, Duke of York, who talked to him about his blindness, and asked him if he did not think it was a great judgment upon him for writing against his (the duke's) father. Then what a sinner, replied Milton, must your father have been. God visited me with the loss of my eyes, but he visited your father with the loss of his head. The retort was perfectly fair, and they heard no more of the Duke of York'scousolations. [York'consolation] The time came, however, when John Milton was, indeed, to bear the brunt for having written these books. The latin [Latin] secretary of Cromwell must lose his place. Charles must return again, and Miltcn's [Milton's] books must be burnt Cromwell's remains must be dug up again-and Milton himself was visited with an inti. [into] mation [nation] that his life would perhaps pay the penalty- [penalty like] like Sir Harry Vane-of his boldness. It had even been said that a mock funeral was got up whilst Milton escaped into the country, and all this whilst his great books were being burnt by the common hangman. (Hear, hear.) By and by his Paradise Lost was written -and he got 5 for it. His compatriot Algernon Sidney also wrote a great book-and they took his head off for it. (Hear.) After this Milton went to live in a house in Wilderness-row-not a very poetical place now -but, no doubt, a beautiful suburban locality in those times. He is here pictured sometimes as sitting out- [outside] side of his door in an old arm chair in his garden, smoking a pipe in the quiet stillness of the evening- [evening catching] catching the soft bland airs that then floated about Wilderness-row, and afterwards returning into his cot- [cottage] tage, [age] where nothing was heard but the sounds of the organ, as the blind old man ran his fingers sweetly over its keys. (Hear.) He was a wonderful musician. They could see that in his verses. They could easily see that & man who could write Paradise Lost, must have been wonderful organist. (Applause.) Well, in a little hear.) They knew' time ill health came over him, and they did not know whether he would recover. One day he fell into a gentle slumber. They looked again, and the soul had passed away-up to the land of great poesy-to mingle again amongst the noble souls with whom he had associated on earth-just like the gentle floating of the breeze on an autumn eve-known, but not perceived. (Applause.) Everybody who had looked at this man's life ever since-had seen in it a reality. (Hear, hear.) Wordsworth, Tory though he was, came with his heart brimming over, and wrote -- Milton thou should'st be living at this hour; England hath need of thee; she is a fen Of s ant waters altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart ; Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea ; Pure as the naked heavens-majestic, tree, So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness and yet thy heart Tho lowliest duties on herself didst lay. (Applause.) Great and generous souls always communed with one another, however different they might appear to be on the outside. (Hear, hear.) Mr. Hood concluded his eloquent lecture by a short criticism on the character of Milton's Satan as compared with Goethe's Mephisto- [Mephistopheles] pholes, [holes] and Shakspeav's [Shakespeare's] Iago. Milton's Satan, he said, could not fairly be taken as an impersonation of the evil principle-he was too noble, and had too much majesty in his character; and there was no doubt that Satan toa [to] great extent was an embodiment of Milton himself. He (Mr. Hood) thought the very qualities of Milton's character disqualified him for conceiving & really malevolent true impersonation of evil. (Hear, hear.) Hovever, [However] he said, he was more desirous that they should regard Milton in his character as a man and a citizen than in that of a great poet. And in this re- [respect] spect [sect] he thought Milton must stand in the estimation of England far beyond the mere painter of pictures of beauty. (Hear, hear.) They all hada [had] destiny-they all had a work to do-and to a great extent they might be immortal until that work was done. There wasa [was] great deal of frvolous [frivolous] thought about death. All must die, and the great thing was to live bravely and to die bravely-doing their duty. (Applause.) EUROPE-ITS RACES, REVOLUTIONS, AND DESTINIES. Mr. Hoop, as on the previous evenings, on presenting himself was warmly applauded, after which he said that on this occasion he was to speak to them for the last time, and that not only upon a subject the most ambitious but the most interesting which he had yet spoken of. All those changes, said he, which had ever being taking place in Europe, presented a beautiful lesson of what might be called the providence of history -for as they turned over the pages of history, and looked at the different peoples, they were struck with the fact that nations, like men, were sent into the world with a work to do, and having done that work, might it not be said they died out (Hear, hear.) There was what had been called the predispositions of history- [history the] the setting apart, as it were, of certain people to certain countries, and he should view this subject under three heads. All nations had these predispositions. If he took his own country as an illustration, it was because it would be better understood. Now, look at this little island-one of the most insignificant little villages in the solar system, and yet it possessed a mighty influence. First was its poition. [position] The very fact of its being an island was important-for had it been tagged on to the land of the Gauls-merely a peninsula te France, it was clear, its whole history would have been different. But locked in by surrounding waters-insu- [waters-inst- insulated] lated-it [late-it -it] had become a grand haven-a mighty port. No doubt the English were a very brave energetic people-but he fancied those waves which played so brightly around them, and those mighty rocks that girted their sea coast were of far more 'm- portance [importance] than her wooden walls. (Hear, hear.) He took it that it was this position which had really given strength, energy, and greatness to the country. But independent of this, had there been no resources in the island- [island no] no resources within its own command-they would easily see how their national character would have been affected. There had lately been a noble struggle going on for Italy, led on by that great man, Mazzini, but they could never again bring back its ancient glory, because Italy had no resources within itself upon which to fall back. The trade of the world was not now concentrated in the Mediterranean, as in former times, and never would be. Then they saw that in order that a nation should be great, it must be self existent-possessing powers and resources within itself. Here had been the success of England-its fields of iron, its copper mines, its lead mines, its coal mines, its magnificent forests of oaks, which had enabled them to bear her flag and her commerce from sea to sea and from shore to shore--its steam engines, its tall chimneys, had made it what it was. (Hear, hear.) But even with these advantages, had it been inhabited by the Chinese or the [negress-a] body of people who possessed ne power within themselves-England would still have been a very different country. (Hear.) There was a beautifol [beautiful] arrangement of Providence that created the mutual de- [dependence] pendence [dependence] of the nation upon the people and the people upon the nation-and God always seemed to put upon the right country the right people, and the right people upon the right country. (Hear, hear.) The physical structure and position of a nation or the different pore tions [tins] of a nation also always affected the characteristics of the people and but a cursory glance through their own country would satisfy them as to the fact. Race, too, was a great modifier, but was again acted upon by itself -and they found one race succeeding another im [in] the stream of events rolling through the past history of Europe. The Celtic first ruled don.inant, [don.infant] but died away before the Saxon, which again gave way to the Teutonic. All came to fulfil their mission, and struggled in the world until it was accomplished-and then sank beneath the mightier, ruder grasp of successors. (Hear, hear, and applause.) The two great people who had moved amongst them-the people from whom the great civilisations of Europe had been de- [derived] rived were unquestionably of the Celtic and Saxon fami- [farm- families] lies. Guizot and Lamartine [Martin] wished it to be believed that France (Celtic) had always moved in the van of civilisation. He did not think this was correct. This France had done she had always been the alembie [alembic] of Europe-she had always tried principles, and taught experience to others-France had always been the great dreamer in the world-England the great actor. (Hear, hear.) France had given them the painting, and England had seen where the painting differed from or approximated to nature, and then touched it up and put it into life. (Hear, hear.) In looking over the past history of Europe, and in tracing the destruction of the mighty empires of Greece, of Carthage, of Rome, of Granada, they might feel some regret that these nations, which towered in majesty for awhile, and then grew dim for ever, had passed away in the ruins of the world-but a more comprehensive view of the question would show that such things must be that the world must move onward in civilisation. (Hear, hear.) It struck him they were going to see another of these changes-these perturbances [disturbances] if so he might call them. He was no prophecier, [prophecies] but he could see how the great hordes of the Sclavonie [Slavonic] race were to be precipitated beyond the Bosphorus, beyond the Tagus, beyond Constantinople, into Asia, and carry with it the seeds of civilisation, The very despotism of Russia was the element which would ensure its success, Having glaneed [gleaned] rapidly over the various phases of European history Mr. Hood, in coming to the latter part of his subject, said, perhaps, the greatest element which was now to be met with over the greater part of Europe-with the excep- [except- exception] tion [ion] of Russia-was the democratic element, and even in that country some traces of it would found in the fact that the spy system was never more active and ex- [extended] tended. But what was this principle- Oh, it means a frightful thing-it means burning, slaying, chartism, anything that is ugly and bad. It meant nothing of the sort. It simply meant the individuality of man. Thirsting, struggling for power. (Hear, hear.) It was no wonder that democracy had been kindled in the society of the present day. Just in proportion as they gave a man the opportunity of seeing what he had done and could accomplish, did they impress upon the mam an individuality-a desire to become something himself. This was democracy. But it might be a magnificent terrible thing, or a great and noble thing-it might be a John Howard, or a Frankenstien-just [Frankenstein-just] as they edu- [ed- educated] cated [acted] it. (Hear, hear.) It was when another man came to you and putting his hand upon your shoulder wished to press you down-and told you to remember your circumstanves-that [circumstances-that] you are cut off from liberty- [liberty that] that this principle sprung forth, and finding there was not room enough for its action pushedaway [pushed away] into the wil- [will- wilderness] derness, [redness] and there planted new homes and liberty. (Hear.) Wherever they spread intelligence these principles would be developed-wherever they found strong religious con- [convictions] victions, [evictions] they would also find strong political convictions, and just in proportion as they made a people religious, would they develope [develop] this element of individualism-of a determination to become something in national history. (Hear, hear.) After continuing his remarks on demo cracy [Cray] for a short time longer, Mr. Hood concluded amidst considerable applause, to denounce what he te signated [signed] priestism, [priest ism] more particularly as developed im [in] the confessional, and expressed his conviction that they must look for the higher elevation of the people, in-the superseding of these things by the holier, nobler, and purer teachings of the New Testament. A gentleman in the body of the hall asked a number of very abstruse questions deducible trom [from] the lecturer's remarks, which, after stating that he did not think the duty of the lecturer was so much to discuss as to de- [declare] clare, [care] Mr. Hood replied to them ina general manner, appareutly [apparently] to the perfect satisfaction of the audience. --- OxForD, [Oxford] WORCESTER, aND [and] WOLVERHAMPTON waY.-On [way.-On .-On] Tuesday an extraordinary general meeting of the shareholders in this line was held at the London Tavern, for the purpose of submitting a plan for raising 850,000, the amount of money necessary to complete railya [rail ya] by the issue of preference shares to that amount. Lord ardinthechair. [another] The purport of the resolutions pro were that 850,000 should be raised for the com of the line, such new shares to be of the nominal value of 15 each, and bearing a preferential dividend (if the net revenue of the company should suffice for the purpose) of six per cent.