A bill has been introduced by the Lord Advocate for abolishing tests in the Scottish universities for all professional chairs but those of the theological faculties. At present every professor, before induction, is required by law to sign the Westminster Confession of Faith, and the other formularies of the Scottish Established Kirk. In many cases the signature is not actually required, or it is given as a mere matter of form. Many of the most distinguished professors in Scotland do not belong to the Established Church of that country.


Count de Montalembert's formal reception as a Member of the Académie Française took place on the 5th of February; and as an event of literary and political importance, excited extraordinary sensation. The salle of the Academy was thronged to excess by the élite of Parisian society, and hundreds who had obtained tickets were unable to secure admission. As usual on such occasions, the Count delivered an harangue, the text of which was the merits, real or supposed, of the deceased member to whose chair he succeeded—but the burden of which was an exposition of the Count's opinions on things political, and things in general. As usual, also, one of the Academicians replied by a complimentary discourse to the new member, and it so chanced that the respondent was no less a personage than M. Guizot. These two distinguished men are what the French call "eagles of eloquence," and under any circumstance the liveliest interest would have been felt to see the two noble birds take an oratorical flight; but on this occasion it was immensely increased, by the fact that they are recognized chiefs of two different creeds in religion, the Catholic and the Protestant; of two hostile political parties, that of absolutism, and that of liberty; and of two contending schools in philosophy—one, which imposes authority on the mind of man, the other, which maintains his right to free examination.


Cavaignac is stated to be employing the leisure of his voluntary exile in writing his own memoirs. This may be one of the mere rumors which float idly about in an age of interrupted sequence and disturbed action, but should it prove true, the public may hope for a curious and exciting narrative from the hero of June. Godfrey Cavaignac, his brother, was one of the wittiest and sternest of republican writers under Louis Philippe—and his own avowed opinions were the cause of much suspicion to the government, though his brilliant exploits in Algiers rendered it impossible to keep him down. Of course, however, the chief interest of his memoirs would centre in the pages devoted to his share in events subsequent to 1848.


A letter-writer from Paris to a London journal, presents some sound comments on the recent infamous law for the suppression of the freedom of the press: "President Bonaparte has this day promulgated his long-expected law on the press. It is of unexampled harshness and oppression. Old Draco himself, if living in these days, would not have made it so atrociously severe. It ruins newspaper and periodical proprietors; it strips editors, and writers, and reporters of the means of obtaining their bread by their honest industry; it altogether annihilates the political press. And not content with this, it prohibits the entrance into France of foreign political journals and periodicals, without the special authorization of the government.

"A few months ago the number of daily political newspapers in Paris exceeded thirty; it now does not amount to ten, and of these ten some are certain to disappear in the course of a short time. It is a very moderate computation to suppose that each one of the twenty and odd suppressed journals gave regular employment at good salaries to ten literary men, as editors, contributors, reporters, correspondents, or critics, and that each one afforded occasional employment to at least the same number of feuilletonistes. Here, then, we have upward of twice two hundred men, who, as regards intelligence, are of the élite of society, suddenly deprived of 'the means whereby they lived,' without any fault of their own. What is to become of them? What of their helpless wives and families? Few of them have any aptitude for any other calling, and even if they had, what chance have they, in this overstocked world, of finding vacant places? The contemplation of their misery must wring every heart, and the more so as, from a certain fierté they all possess, they feel it with peculiar bitterness. But, after all, they are but a small portion of the unfortunates who are ruined by the ruining of the press: there are the compositors, who must exceed two thousand in number; there are the news-venders, who must amount to hundreds, there are the distributors, and the publishers, and the clerks, and all the various dependents of a journal, who must amount to hundreds more—all, like Othello, now exclaiming, 'My occupation's gone.' And then paper-makers and type-founders must surely find work slacker and wages lower, now that the newspapers are dead. And then, again, the cafés and the reading-rooms—a very legion—can they do the same amount of business when they have no newspapers to offer? I wonder whether the French Dictator has ever thought of the wide-spread misery he has occasioned, and is causing, by his enmity to the press. It may be doubted—else, perhaps, he would never, from motives of personal or political convenience, have annihilated such an important branch of human industry, which gave bread to tens of thousands. It is a fine thing to have a giant's strength, but tyrannous to use it as a giant."


The German papers say that Dr. Meinhold, the author of the Amber Witch, has left among his papers an unfinished manuscript, entitled "Hagar and the Reformation"—which, they add, is now in an editor's hands, and will be shortly given to the public.