The friends of literature in Virginia have lately been favored with several Inaugural Addresses, each of which has had its peculiar merits. It is only of that whose title has just been given, that we intend to speak. In the correspondence which is prefixed to this Address, we learn that it was "prepared with great haste, amidst anxieties and efforts to regain health, and amidst all the inquietudes of journeying and absence from home." Apologies are seldom worth the time spent in making or reading them. Generally, an author who prints his production may be supposed to consider it of some value. To make an apology, then, similar to that of Mr. Carroll, is but a modest way of hinting that, with a fair trial, the writer could have done much better. On the whole we _wish_ that there had been no apology; for the Address needs none. It is not our purpose to give an outline of this discourse, or enter into a critical examination of its merits--for merits it has. We wish merely to call the attention of the reader to a few extracts, hoping that a perusal of these will induce him to procure and read the whole Address for himself. The first of these extracts is on a subject too long overlooked, and too much neglected in all our schools. We refer to social qualities. On this subject the author's ideas are just and timely. He says: "Every literary institution ought to aim at such a well regulated intercourse amongst its students as would inspire them with a dignified self-respect--as would cause them, even in retirement, to conduct themselves with that delicacy and deference to each other's feelings that become a high-minded and honorable company of gentlemen associated in the pursuit of learning. They ought also, under proper restrictions, to mingle occasionally in the best circles of society around them. Neither their morals, their manners, nor their studies would suffer from that evolution and play of the social powers to which such an intercourse would give rise. I know indeed that a certain degree of awkward reserve, and bluntness of manners, and recklessness of dress have, in some minds, become almost inseparably associated with genius. But a moment's reflection may convince any one that it requires no very extraordinary endowments from the Creator, to enable a man, after a little practice, to become a _clown_ in his manners and a _sloven_ in his apparel. Let it not be supposed, however, that in thus contending for the development of the social powers and cultivable graces of our nature, we countenance the contemptible littleness of dandyism. The mere dandy we despise as a thing whose definition the great American lexicographer has given in the following appropriate terms--'a male of the human species who dresses himself like a doll, and carries his character on his back.' Between the peculiarities of such a creature and the dignified refinement and suavity of the educated gentleman, it were odious to