The Sun.
London, England, 1860-09-04 00:00:00

baldians assailed in front ! If not literally true the
story, no doubt, correctly represent his fears. But
what can the poor wretch hope for when the Count
of SYRACUSE himself makes his peace with VICTOR
EMMANUEL. Indeed the correspondent above re-
ferred to from Turin goes so far as to say that in a
second letter the Count has actually recognised
VICTOR EMMANUEL as the Xing of Italy.
But it is south of Naples that the decisive work
is being done. GARIBALDI there so completely
commands the entire straits, that Messina is com-
pletely isolated. But far more important even than
that—more important than his victories themselves,
considered as strictly military feats, is the temper
he everywhere finds both among the troops and
the population, The latter welcome him even far
more enthusiastically than did the country popula-
tion of Sicily—exerting themselves also to the
utmost to supply his wants when he has had to de-
pend on them. At Reggio, however, he seems to have
formed abundant stores. As to, the troops, their
chief manceuvre seems to be to yield after pre-
senting the appearance of resistance; presenting it,
however, in such a way as not to endanger their
lives. The capture of the battalions under BRI-
GANTI and MELBNDEZ, one of 2,000 and the other
of 1,800 men was effected with wonderful skill and
humanity; yet it is impossible to feel quite sure
that BRIGANTI did not take the position he did, to
give GARIBALDI the opportunity of showing his
skill. Certain it is that after the surrender the
fraternisation was complete. GARIBALDI himself
went down among the Neapolitans, showing how
entire was .kis confidence, and was almost torn to
pieces by hugging and embracing ; soldier and offi-
cer, including Gen. BRIGANTI himself, fraternised.
And such we may, for humanity's sake, hope
will be the story to the end, One line of
defence after another has been abandoned,
and we are told the way is now un-
obstructed from Reggio to Salerno itself—the
obstructions there and outside Naples—we have
every reason to hope will melt away, much after the
fashion of those at Reggio and Monteleone, an&
perhaps in ten days more GARIBALDI may date his
orders from Naples, and the fugitive KING from on
board ship, or a little later, from Vienna. The
Army evidently cannot be trusted, and the
whole country, as fast as it gets clear o!
mercenary or Royalist troops, proclaims the Dic-
tatorship of GARIBALDI. He pursues his uniform
course. He longs to avoid bloodshed—his last
proclamation to the Neapolitans of the continent
says :—" I wish to avoid bloodshed among Italians.
I have seen that you are brave, and
don't wish to see it again ; our blood we will shed
together on the corpses of the enemies of Italy,
but between us let there be peace—accept that
right hand which has never served a tyrant, but
which has been hardened in the service of the
people." Yes—ltalians will accept it—and should
he ever visit this country, Englishmen of all classes
would be proud to grasp it.

It is always, in fact it has become proverbially,
ungracious to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yet
for the life of us we cannot help acting thus, how-
ever perversely, in regard to certain presentations
made to the nation by private individuals. There
are conditions sometimes coupled with those gifts
that tend to render what could otherwise be viewed
only as evidences of munificence and magnanimity
singularly vexatious, crotchetty and irritating. Take
a case in point. There is a commodious dwelling
house on the north side of Lincoln's-inn-fields—No.
13, to wit—which is opened to public inspection
during two or three months out of the twelve, and
which contains within it a miscellaneous assortment
of works of art and objects of curiosity bequeathed
to the nation by the collector, the late Sir JOHN
SOANE, and known ever since then as Sir JOHN
SOANE'S Museum. Now this museum might have
been quadrupled in value as a popular benefaction
if it had been left to the country by Sir JOHN
SOANE in an open liberal-handed manner, without
encumbering it with any conditions whatsoever.
Supposing, for example, that it had been so be-
queathed by the donor to the British Government,
it need not have been kept all this while isolated in
No. 13, Lincoln's-inn-fields—it might have been
rendered accessible to the public at large without
the smallest restriction of any kind at all—it might
have been opened to the examination of the
country at large, from year's end to year's end, in-
stead of during one solitary quarter in each twelve-
month. The imposition of these arbitrary condi-
tions can alone be attributed to one motive, and
that a motive of a very petty character, namely
vanity. The donor appears in these instances to
be, above all things, desirous that his name as the
donor should be perpetuated as glaringly as possible.
Therefore—let the museum, the gallery, the collec-
tion, or whatever else it may be, stand apart from
all others, even though its isolation involves the
necessity of its remaining in a comparatively ob-
scure tenement like this No. 13, Lincoln's-inn-fields,
where Sir JOHN SOANE'S Museum has, ever since
Sir JOHN SOANE'S death, been incurring the risk of
destruction by fire through the merest ordinary
casualty, upon either hand, of an accidental conflag-
ration. It is vanity and nothing but vanity which
says—,, My gift shall remain apart from all other
gifts to the nation, and shall be called by my own
name exclusively, by way of advertising my
generosity to posterity in perpetuity, and securing
to me thus an inexhaustible flood of posthumous
admiration !"

Compare with this the gift, pure and :sim-
ple, the unconditional bequest of some museum, or
gallery, or collection, left literally pro bow publico
by the munificent public benefactor. Does such
an unconditional gift redound less, think you, or
more, to the honour of any such benefactor ?
Does not the fact of its being so left enhance the
grace and value of the donation ? And is it less
likely to be cared for by the nation with a view
to its better preservation ? Why, on the contrary,
the treasures so left are far more likely to be kept
out of harm's way by being at once placed in one
of the great fireproof structures devoted to the
purposes of such collective preservation.
A passage occurring incidentally in the Report
of the Select Committee upon the South Kensing-
ton Museum has thrust these foregoing thoughts
upon our consideration. It is that sentence in the
report which says—" The collection of British
pictures at South Kensington was commenced by
Mr. SHEEPSHANKS, who in giving them to the
nation stipulated that his pictures must be kept
either in the imnzediate neighbourhood of _Kensing-
ton in a suitable building, or, jailing this, at Cain-
bridge." Now, in alluding to this stipulation we are
perfectly conscious that we are doing nothing less
invidious, nothing less ungracious than—looking
a gift horse in the mouth, and a gift horse, too,
which is valued at upwards of £50,000 sterling !
The SHEEPSHANKS' collection is a very rare and
noble gift to the nation—one reflecting the highest
honour upon the munificent giver. His donation
—valued at £52,592—being all the more generous
from the fact of its being vouchsafed by Mr.
SHEEPSHANKS during his lifetime. But—grate-
fully acknowledging this on behalf of the nation
thus magnificently benefited by the spontaneous
'generosity of this gentleman of ample fortune, of