The Express.
London, England, 1859-03-18 00:00:00

LONDON, FRIDAY, Nazar Is.

WHEN SILVIO Pe.tuco told the story of hie Ino
yrieument to the world, a sense of genuine affliction
maddened all who read or heard it. PELLICO WAS at
large, and the torture was over ; but men could not
accept this u a compensation for the pain of learning
that such imprisonments for political offences, real or
imagined, could be imposed in our day. Before long,
too, it become known that the victim had received a
further and irreversible punishment in the weakening
of his intellect. His comrade, MARONCELLI, came out
of his cell crippled, deprived of a leg by prison-bred
disease. Exuma came out a sufferer by the same
disease, and weakened in mind sa his comrade never
wee—Psuico was, therefore, the narrator of their
prison-history, which would never have been permitted
to see the light if told by a robuster victim. The
perpetual wonder of innocent people was that the
Austrian Government permitted the book to appear.
But the paternal Emperor Faeroe was well
pleased at such an opportunity of showing, without
ostentation, what people had to expect who criticised
his methods of rule. It united his purposes to let it
be known that him paternal supervision was felt in
the deepest recesses of his State prisons ; and that every
gasp under the scorching leads in the Venice gaol, and
every shiver in the damp cells at Spielberg , was
known to the thoughtful Imperial jailor who decided
how many garments should be allowed, and what
food should be served to his sickly and sinking
victims. lie saw that the warning against disaffec-
tion would cue more effectually from a sufferer than
from authority; and, therefore, having no sense of
shame about doing what he would with his own. be
let Pexuro's tale go forth—trimmed and shaped by
the orneerehip, and illustrated by the eseapiste
prostration of the writer; a prostration which was
called obedience sad piety, wrought oat by the chaa-
tieenient of the lissetaoa and the grace of GOD.
Not less grunt, sot less grave, his been the pain
felt for several years past on account of Potato and
his honours d comrades in captivity. there are not
a few of us who have felt life to be clouded by what
had befallen these men. The fresh morning, brines,
its promise of active duty, and of the satisfactions
of existence, was often dimmed by the thought of
what etch new day mast be to men so buried wive,
In the vigour of their days, am Poem() and his fellow-
prisoners were. When news reached England of
their has, lig been actually seen once more in the world
of living men, thousands of as took pleasure in
imagining what mast be their intense delight to
be abroad again seder the sun and moon :
The comma ale, Ne varth, the shish,
To thus ere %meg pared us.

Their interoourse with each ether wu free 1 end l
they had a future to plan for, and draw hope
from. If to us it was a substantial relief that they I
we» no longer buried alive, what must It be to '
them' soon the newsof their arrival in our country
increase il our joy. Here, we said, they shall be
cheered by congratulation, sympathy, and homer, es
they would have been in the United States,
and besides be nearer home, still in their own
Europe. and more favoniably circumstanced fee
deciding on their future. plane. Amidst the reins
and penalties which remain to be endured by
them—the impaired health, the sense of a spoiled
career, the thought of each a Ices of ten years of the
beet period of life, sad all the thousand association
pais which it will regales • beg course of health
and mental cheer to dissipate—they may and will
foil it • blessing to he here, for a term of rest wed
recovery, before entering on the next scene of their
pettish. liver. Not wily are these unfortunate exiles
dwarticalated in the world, but they bare to regain
to • greet extent the knowledge and ideas of the
last ten)sees before they can place themselves me
rapport with the life and action of the time. At
prosiest they ere much in the position of those who
awake from a long dream, or, like one who for the first
time gains his sight, see " men es tress walking.'.
They an not fit subjects for noisy dememehadmea,
which moreover from • personal knowledge we ea.
say would b. distasteful to the seven end uneaten-
tatioas virtue of the chief men ammag them. Foe
the present, at has; they need tender treatment I
but the roman 'cinching which the English people
have shown to them Wean theca to the quick.
As for ourerlvee, we English have sot oily the
honour or being permitted to hamar them,
and the privilege of imparting suns sheer
to spirits so long worn, though never enli-
dued, but there is a political advantage
also. Between the inability to eadesetand, and the
determination to misunderstand the reason@ of our
peepers' attitude in the 'midst of &mean metre-
unites of the gravest character, we should probably
have to ester on a greet deal of explanation which
would be useless, about the reality and the warmth
of oar sympathy with genuine Italian petite' tims.
We have now a singularly fortunate opportunity of
proving that it is not coldoess, not inchtferesee, that
prevents our rushing into war for Italia* inde-
pendence, without choice of time, method, aim,
sad companionship. Our new guests are repre-
sentatives (we speak of the emineat London of the
company) of oar views and wishes in regard te their
country. Naples has • continuities, and • geed
body of lawn, which it was the object of Pont° sad
his coadjstors to render available to their weepy-
mu. The aim is virtuous, reasonable, and loyal;
and the men are to as the exponents of the
political intelligence and patriotic loyalty of the
Italian kingdom to which they being. To then,
therefor.., we can heartily and theakrally dried say
triatatte• they can suggest and will boner el by
receiving. Foe this mode of ezpimpisi someavel