The Sun.
London, England, 1864-06-25 00:00:00

FRANCE.

1 „
1 BOURSE, June 24—The market continues in the
same dull and feeble state, and the arrival of the
Egiish funds with a decline has tended to increase
UN heaviness. Threes, for the Account, are now at
65fr. 65c. Mobilier has again receded, and are last
quoted at 1,017 f. 60c. Railway Shares have been
offered, and are generally quoted lower. The
market closed as follows :-
41 per Cents 93 10 j Italian L0an...... 69 35
Do. end month — Do. end month.... 69 55
3 per Cents
Do. end month 65 76 New Mexican .... 55
Credit M0bi1ier....1022 50 Russian ........ '—
Do. end mcnth 1017 60 Austrian ........ 82
Bank Shares ...... 3365 Spanish Threes.... 61
Credit F outer ....1235 Home Debt .. —
Roman .. 743 Deferred ........
HAIL AYArd.
.. ABc7c 986 25
Lyons and Mediterraneanso uni.
Orleans , ... i
360 -- " 815
Northern
New ditto
Southern
Western
460 —.495
988723 Cash.
75
60
.
..
.
Eastern -
Sardinian
405361 —25 eis. 403362 7550
Austrian
Lombard . - .. 518 75
North of Spain . 4,27 50 .. 432 50
Saragossa,. , 560 25 .. 565
Ditto to Barcelona - e. 255

NEW DOCKS ON THE TYNE.—On. Thursday the
River Tyno Commissioners laid the foundation
stone of the third cock for the shipment of coals on that
river. The docks now at work are the Tyne Dock, belong-
ing to the North-Eastern Railway, and the Northumber-
land Dock, belonging to the commissioners. The Tyne-
mouth Dock, about to be built, the foundation stone of
which was laid on Thursday, will be situated at the low
light on the north side of Shields harbour, near to the sea.
It is intended for the shipment of the Northum,berland steam
coal aboard of vessels of large tonnage, which are greatly
on the increase. It will enclose 41 acres of water space,
and will have 28 feet water in the sill. At ten o'clock a
long procession, consisting of the River Tyne Commis-
sioners, the four corporations on the Tyne, the foreign con-
suls, the Chambers of Commerce, the merchants and ship-
owners of North Shields, and the seamen and members of
the friendly societies belonging to the port, proceeded to
the site of the dock, when the foundation stone was laid by
Mr. Joseph Cowen, jun., the chairman of River Tyne Com-
missioners. Preparations had been made for great out-
door rejoicings, but a wet day spoiled thew all,--,Lfeas
mercury.

MR. KUHE'S CONCERT,

As one of the most gifted and rarely acoom.
plished of living pianists, Mr. Kuhe is certain every
successive season of collecting together a very large
and brilliant attendance whenever one of his Re.
citals of Classical and Modern Pianoforte Music is
announced. It was so—as usual—on Thursday
afternoon at the Hanover .sqaare Rooms, where a
numerous and evidently a thoroughly appreciative
audience attested his popularity, and by so attesting,
it proved to demonstration their own taste. Know-
ing, as we all do, that Liszt has withdrawn him-
self into a monastery, almost as finally as his
favourite pupil Herr Hermann (now a Car.
melite monk out at Kensington), and remem-
bering also that Thalberg has closed his professional
career by formally bidding us Farewell—we
can hardly make too much of an artist so
eminently distinguished (at once as a composer and
as a performer) as Wilhelm Kuhe—the worthy
rival (these words of themselves being a panegyric)
the worthy rival of Halle. Any more exquisite
delicacy of touch than Mr.Kuhe's, one could, not only
hardly wish for, but hard 4 imagine. Yet—combined
with this most clldi ming delicacy there fall on
the ear at inter-gals, as we listen to his playing,
tones so fire:., so massive, so sonorous, that one
thin ks in.'dtinctively, upon the ins tant, of those sounds
Leigh Hunt speaks of, in his wonderful little

Poem on Paganini, as having been drawn at
',lmes, from the fiddle, by that Wizard of the
' Bow—sounds " like the built organ I" At
other moments, again, Mr. Kube makes the
piano, before which he is seated, sing under his
emotional fingers ! The performances at Thursday's
Recital were—to ourselves certainly—a treat: the
cordiality of the applause which greeted them
seeming plainly enough to indicate that they were
a treat also to the audience generally. Three
among our moat popular concert singers took part
with Mr. Kuhe in affording entertainment to those
who had assembled together especially in his honour.
The soprano, among these three well-known colla-
borateurs, being Madame Lemmens-Sherrington,
the contralto, Madame Sainton-Dolby, and the
tenor, Herr Reichardt. At this mention of the
name of Herr Reichardt we would speak at once of
the cordial plaudits and instant encore won by him
in his simple but charming delivery of his own
plaintive little song, "A Tear." It was a success.
Madame Sainton-Dolby appeared to be suffering
from the after effects of a severe cold, singing very
effectively, nevertheless, in spite of this—more
particularly in Engel's romanza of " Irene."
Madame Lemmena-Sherrington's happiest achieve-
ment on Thursday, was in her rendering of the
riant, coquettish Air des Bijoux from the" Faust"
of Gounod. As for Herr Kube himself he cer-
tainly had, as he ought to have had, as we could
only have wished him to have, the lion's share of
the responsibility of entertaining his friends and
admirers on Thursday. To say nothing of the
er cares his performances every now and then
drew upon his own head—for the which pee
nalty he has, of course, only to thank
himself!--there were no less than eight distinct
" recitals" set down for him in the programme.
Twice only he indulged the audience with pieces of
his own composition--once at the close of the con-

cert with a brilliant Fantasia on Irish airs, the first
(and we may confidently add not by any means the
last) time of its performance. Upon the other aced-

sion on which he was Hi own interpreter, Kuhe's
marvellous " Song without Words," the Barpe
Eolienne, wzs followed by Kuhe's Etudes de Con-

cert. Otherwise his performances were devoted to
admirably well selected compositions by Beethoven,
Meodulssoho, Liszt, Chopin, Thalberg, Scsrlatti,
and Blumenthal. Mr. Kuhe's rendering of
Litzt's brilliant Valse from " Faust" was a really
marvellous performance—his refined and dazzling
execution of Les Ades, by Blamenthal,Tousing eves
the fashionable audience who were listening to it to
something very much like enthusiasm. Mr. Bane.
diet was, as ho evor is, welcome as the accom-
panyist to the vccalists, or, speaking of him
technically, as the Conductor.

A Charming Tribute to Shakspere.

From a long poetical effusion entitled " Invocation
April 23, WI)," published in extenso in the Queen of to-
! day, we ere tempted to make these fragmentary extracts.
The Editor of the Queen, in giving insertion to this anony-
mous poem, remarks:—" We regret that so admirable a
composition as this should have reached our hands so long
after the date when its appearance would have been most
appropriate; but it is never too late for a really excellent
piece of poetry to appear in a public dress, and so we gladly
give it insertion. As regards its authorship, we can only
mention that it is by a Lancashire lady, and was written at
first only for the perusal of private friends. In an age of
mediocre versification and competition prize poems, to meet
with such a performance as this is truly refreshing." And
affording testimony that these words of praise are in truth
deserved—take the subjoined passages, having particular
regard to the words italicised :
Well didst thou love thy England, and thy soul
Which swept the darkest realms of thought unscared,
And saw beneath th' Egyptian's tawny breast,
The Roman's antique mail, the common heart,
The common passions working out their doom,
Came back in peace to this beloved soil,
And found the tranquil setting of thy days
Amidst those simple fields, these tangled lanes
Curtained by hedge-row elms, where Robin pipes
His latest warblings to the golden eve.
ken didst thou walk all careless of thy fame,
With calm gaze open to the universe;
Here didst thou die Death closed thy glorious eyes,
And broke the rratchlesa mirror of the world.
•
Brother for though the vastness of thy soul
That soared at level with the heights of woe,
And giant passions of the antique world,
And heard the subtlest music of the spheres,
Might sink our smaller souls in barren awe,
Yet with thy greatness breathes a quickening grace—
S weet human sympathy that burns for all.
No cloud-lost dreamer thou, strutting above
The daily needs and daily griefs of man,
For, with the blinding splendours of thy g:fts,
Thou wondrous blossom of the northern race,
Are knit the solid attributes that make
The greatness of the Anglo-Saxon blood ;
The love of liberty, the love of home,
the hankering for the quiet of the fields,
The noble moderation of a strength
Proved beyond proof, returning on itself,
The patriot's pride, the fixed and steady mind,
So earnest in the business of its day.
Thus true to thy vocation of the stage,
Wert thou who mightst have worn the epic robe
With lofty grace as Homer, or have met
Plato himself upon his heights sublime,
Or purest Socrates, thou who didst pluck
His croun of roses from Anacreon,
A playwright to the end Who mourns it here ?
Playwright, 'tis true ; but what a playwright ours
Wit, poet, sage, historian, all in one,
Who left in many a fair melodious line,
That smoothly passed the tyrant's jealous ear,
A germ of thought, a dragon's fang of truth ;
Which sprang in riper days an armed man,—
Whose eye was keen for folly, but whose heart
Was warm with love of God and humankind.
* *
King I for by all the glory of thy brow,
Thy crown of deathless fame, thy staff of power,
By every attribute of right and might,
Most surely, Shakspere, thou art King of men !
In days of yore, monarchs, to show their wealth,
Flung silver in the streets, and sent the wine
Red foaming through the common water ways :
Coarse shifts were these, methinks, to prove their worth,
Small deeds to 'stablish greatness among men.
Eut thou hast flung thy gold to every wind,
And slaked the thirst of ages with thy wine,
Yet is thy store no less; the growing age,
With all appliances of skill and thought,
Hath not yet gauged the fulness of thy depth.

Gam' sang this afternoon, in St. James's Hall,
at Ciabatta's concert.

A PREMIER'S WAR DANCE !—So at least we
venture to head the following comment by the
Queen of to-day upon the fact that on Wednesday evening
their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales
dined at the house of Lord Palmerston, and the entertain-
ment was concluded by a dancing party. Their royal
highnesses were received at the door of Cambridge House
by the host, whose infirmities incapacitate him from appear-
ing in the House of Commons to answer questions relative
to important affairs of State, and " the festivities were pro-
longed to an early hour of the morning." That very day
the Conference on the Danish tragedy had, in fact, broken
up in confusion, and there is now but tho Queen's indivi-
dual will between this cmntry and a war with Germany—
s war which can only end in handing over the Sound to
the domination of Russia. What is Nero fiddling over the
of Rune to this dance at Cambridge douse