The Sun.
London, England, 1864-06-14 00:00:00

come dim in the distance, crowds still gather upon
the shore. "Sono buoni genti," said an old man, as
with tears in his eyes he waved his hat towards the
departing Britons. "Adesso sin= liberi !" said a
young man, as he lit a cigarette by way of inaugu-
rating the new order of things.

It was memory and hope brought face to face—
the grateful recollection of many a past blessing,
the vague ambition of some future greatness; the
death of the old regime by the cradle of the new.
Among those who witness the exodus may be seen
a white-haircd man, who with erect gait, but totter-
ing step, mingles with the crowd. He is a half-pay
officer, above 80 years of age, and was present with
the army when Genoa was ceded to Sardinia, again
when Sicily was ceded to Naples, and now once more
he has seen the marching out of an English army and
the hauling down of the English flag by English sol-
diers. He served under the first Lord High Com-
missioner, and he has made his parting bow to the
last. He feels himself too old to be transplanted,
and returns to the home in Corfu which he has oc-
cupied for 50 years, a stranger in the land of the
stranger.
One of the old-established institutions of Corfu is
"Taylor's." Not to know and to be known by
Taylor is to argue yourself unknown. His shop
under the esplanade is the refuge for distressed
British subjects, whose wants he is ever ready to
supply, from selling them &pair of gloves to hiring
a house or buying a yacht, or negotiating a bill.
Taylor's name is in Corfu " familiar in men's mouth
as household words." He is part and parcel of the
British Protectorate, and dearly loves the English,
and especially the garrison, to whom he owes his
prosperity. He has made a large fortune, but has
never been suspected of a shabby act. If he is high
in his prices, he is magnificent in his charities, and
many an imprudent young officer has owed his sal-
vation to Taylor's liberality. He cannot survive
the cession. As the English colours at the citadel
are lowered, Taylor's signboard comes down with a
run. His public life ends with the political death
of the last Lord High Commissioner.
The undisguised joy of the populace, now that the
English are fairly off, is not flattering, but, after all,
natural enough. Besides, it is not the wild exulta-
tion of the liberated slave, but rather the satisfaction
of the old soldier who, weary of service, has bought
his discharge and looks forward to make his own
living. Some old grudges, perhaps, rankle in his
mind; he cannot forget how the adjutant was hard
upon him once when he took a drop too much, or
how the colonel would not allow him to marry when
he was most in love, and he revenges himself by
swaggering past them in plain clothes with a free-
and-easy salute. Nevertheless, he treasures the old
uniform, and in days to come will point, not with-
out a feeling of pride, to the facings which he wore.
Perhaps, too, when he is struggling hard to make
a living for himself, he will look back with regret
to the good old days when all his wants were pro-
vided for, and he had not a care or a thought for
the future.

Upon the whole the people are very orderly, and
the few remaining English are treated with marked
courtesy and respect. Every impartial witness will
admit that our policy has been disinterested and
honest, that our influence has been beneficial upon
the character of the people, and that our rule has
been marked with justice and moderation. Any
animosities which may now exist will pass away,
and in days to come, be their fate evil or prosperous,
the Seven Islands will remember their English pro-
tectors as we shall surely remember those beautiful
islands with a deep and affectionate regret.

JUNE 6,

The King of the Hellenes arrived here this morn-
ing, escorted by her Majesty 's ship Revenge, carrying
the flag of Rear Admiral Yelvarton, and the French
and Russian ships of war Magicienne and Oleg. In
order to reader his entry into Corfu as imposing as
possible a temporary wharf had been erected in the
Bay of Castrhdes, whence, preceded by his Capo
Stalliere—as gorgeous as Widdicomb3 himself,
and whom the populace occasionally mistook
and saluted for the King—and two outriders,
he drove slowly into the town, enthusiastically
cheered, and, as he passed through the streets,
literally pet ed with bouquets from the windows
which beauty, fashion, and loyalty occupied.
His Majesty proceeded directly to the Church of
St. Spirodine, where he made his obeisance to the
well preserved saint, and received the benedictory
welcome of the Greek Archbishop; thence he made
his way to the palace, apparently much pleased with
his reception, as he kept on bowing from right to
left with a happy smile upon his °pan boyish face.
His councillor, Count Sponeck, sat by his side serious
and thoughtful, speculating, perhaps, on the average
duration of Hellenic enthusiasm.
In the afternoon the young King put on a paletot
and a white hat, and, taking his seat on the box of
his phmtou, drove at a rattling pace along the
favourite road, the One Gun Battery, astonishing
the country people, who found it a difficult matter
to dissociate majesty from fine clothes. To make
up for this, howeNer, King George appeared at the
illuminations in the evening dressed in the uniform
of the National Guard, and bestriding a prancing
charger.

The King purposes making a stay of eight days
in Corfu, and on his homeward way will pay pass-
ing visits to the principal southern islands.
It will be then, when the novelty and excitement
of her new existence will have worn off, when lonia
in the cold gray morning light contemplates the re-
mains of the wedding feast and calculates its cost,
that an interval of painful thoughts and sad fore-
bodings must intrude. Already the mass of the
people feel the loss of a good and liberal customer ;
the shops are empty, the market place is deserted,
the houses are tenantless ; the Greek soldier affects
airs of superiority over the provincial, and looks
upon the Seven Islands as on the summer residence
of the Hellenic King, or at best as an Athenian
suburb. The conscription lists are unrolled; the
tax-collector is girding up his loins.