The Sun.
London, England, 1860-04-06 00:00:00

FRANCE.

A person who has just come from Nice,-where
he was present at the entry of the French troops
declares, that with thb exception of the French
Consul's house not a flag was to be seen, nor any
other sign of rejoicing. When the troops retired
to their barracks, which they did amid general
silence, the Nizards, who had remained in their
houses while the cortege passed, then made a de-
monstration, but it was crying repeatedly,—" Vice
P Italie," " Vice Victor Emmanuel!"
BOURSE, Aprils.—The market has been buoyant,
and the rise is favoured by an advance of 4 on
English Consols. Threes have been done at 69f.
90c. to 70f. 40c. ; Mobilier, 790 f. to 801 f. 25c. ;
Austrian, 530 f. to 5.32 f. 50c. ; Lombard, 540 f. to
543 f. 750.; Lyons, 925 f. to 927 f. 50c.; Orleans,
1,427 f. 50c. to 1,432 f. 50c.; Northern, 955 f. to
960 f.; Eastern, 627 f. 50c. to 622 f.; Geneva, 425 f.
to 420 f. The following are the last quotations :-
41 per Cents. .... 95 60 Credit Fonder 7.0
Do. end month I
Belgian 4f
' Austrianspanis
3 per Cents 7O —lPiedmontese (5) .. 81 50
Do. end month 69 96 litoman B2
7.5
Bank Shares
2810
h Threes .. 4680 --
787 50 Home Debt 441
DCroe.dAitel‘cleounbitlier .. 793

RAILWAYS.
Cash. Account.
Orleans
Northern
New ditto
Lyons and Mediterranean 930 .. 925
Geneva 420 425
Southern
Western 590 .. 595
Eastern
Sardinian 4lO
Austrian
Lombard ..
Exchange on London, at sight, paper, 25f. 13c. • money,
25f. 120. ; three months, paper, 24f. 85c.; money, 24f 821 c.
SARDINIAN PARLIAMENT.

(From the Correspondent of the Times)

TURIN, APRIL 2.

Parliament in Turin is made as attractive as the
Carnevalone, or Arcb..Carnival, in Milan. An apart-
ment bespoken by telegraph five or six days ago
was not to be had, the hotelkeeper assures me, be-
cause the application came too late. A hundred de-
puties and senators from the Tuscan and /Ernilien
provinces were wandering about yesterday in quest
of lodgings, with about as much success as provin-
cials in Paris at the time of the famous Exhibition—
notwithstanding, and indeed in consequence of, the
praiseworthy endeavours of the municipal authori-
ties, who undertake to supply new corners with
suitable house accommodation and establish order
and method in a branch of industry, every inter-
ference with which, as with all other trade, only
makes confusion worse confounded. If, however.
our prospects are not very cheering in our dining-
rooms and dormitories, we have no lack of objects
of consolation abroad. You have had already ex-
cellent descriptions of Turin as it looks when all
pavoisee for a national festivity ; even that notable
cradle of art, Florence, is not so tastefully tricked
out. Mere contrasts of colours and effect of light
do not suffice the perhaps less fanciful, but more
earnest, Piedmontese. Here we have the records
of the past, the emblems of the present, and hints
of the future. The fusion of the Italian " peoples"
into one people is here blazoned forth in a hundred
stands and coats of arms, banners, streamers,
triumphal arches, &c. This day, the 2d of
April, 1860, is for Italy a second Pontida,
with this difference only, that at Pontida,
in the middle of the twelve century, only the cities
convened, and for a temporary confederacy. Here
we have town and country—an annexation, and not
a league—a bond of union meant for eternity. Even
in its palmy days the Lombard League never num-
bered one-third of the Italian communities here re-
presented. Towns which joined at Pontida for the
first and only time in Italian annals, which have
gone asunder for ever since—towns which had
borne the deadliest enmity against each other, and
ruthlessly and relentlessly conspired to each other's
destruction—Pisa and Genoa, Milan and Pavia,
Parma and Piacenza, the cradle of Dante and his
tomb— Italian genius in its various development,
the various schools of Italian art—all is gathered
here. With the exception of Mantua and Padua,
Verona, Vicenza, and Venice, the very soul and
populationtahs
oinnl
Southerna
heart of Italy is here ; for, although the new king-
dom acknowledging the sway of Victor Emmanuel
11. does not make up even one-half of the land and
othe
glorious Peninsula,
t traditions,
dsitti
01
nthere o
fitsy
ch
naodioeuvbt
m
ll
Italy is
isalsculture, andtal
they presents
nmobo rlearloworth,nlei.ttoleutmht this
e uppertha,t
portioneat ,m
fßome
and achieve-
ments,
Naples in point
otttf a
toaFadwnrnoesa:rpyetornawito,s sameness of dull, backward provincial
a nlike
ever
Taranto,
many Reggio
others, fCa
whichl Calabria,
rnioat,
only are nothing at the present time, but have no

traces of ever having been more than nothing
in days of yore.
I embarked on board the Royal screw frigate
Maria Adelaide, commanded by the Admiral,
Persano, and conveying from Leghorn to Genoa
the flower of the Tuscan senators and deputies. The
night, Saturday to Sunday, was calm and balmy,
light as day with the moon, and so summer-warm
that we sat un deck with all our wrappings off till a
late hour. Several of the honourable gentlemen had
their ladies with them, and the talk was warm and
genial, such as became people bent on a great mis-
sion, going to meet an eventful, but as yet dark and
perplexing future. The Admiral is also returned to
the House of Deputies, and his attention to his
future colleagues would have been but natural even
in a man whose character for the most high-bred
courtesy, no less than for the most dashing gallan-
try, was less firmly established than that of Count
Persano. We landed at Genoa in the morning, and
reached Turin at 3 in the afternoon. What man,
who has been absent from the Sardinian capital for
the last nine months, would have recognised his
sober and even somewhat dismal acquaintance of
former years ? The streets were crowded with peo-
ple moving about with one object—to view the
preparations for the festu ; to•day the business of
the same multitude is to see the festa itself. There
is no lack of grumblers, indeed, who profess them-
selves sick to death of this perpetual holyday, " this
eternal waving of banners, this patriotism of demon-
strations, this enthusiasm of the lungs, which keeps
12,000,000 of freemen perpetually . bawling and
singing and rollicking about, turning both triumphs
and defeats, marches and funerals, n Deuins and
Misereres, into rareeshows—into as many occasions
for shirking work, and loitering about. Are charters
and constitutions, freedom and annexation, ()Ills),
granted to the Italians to make up for the masses
nd processions, the pomp and circumstance of
which begin to pall on a priest-contemning if not
God-forgetting populace ? And is Italy so rich in
gunpowder that she can afford to waste millions in
tin flowerpots, silk rags, and oil lamps ?"
Patience, good friends ! Christmas comes but once
a year ; the gathering together of a people once
only in many centuries—a fusion of races effected
by love and sacrifice, by political wisdom, and per-
severance, is an event the world never produced be-
fore, and may, perhaps, never exhibit again. Ex-
citement and elation are but too natural to the

Italians in this present crisis ; it is in the nature of
these people that their feelings should thus mani-
fest themselves, and it is, perhaps, the duty of their
rulers thus to minister to their tastes and pleasures.
The eve of the festa was already a great Jesta,
hardly to be outdone by the grand day itself. This
morning we were all up betimes—some hundred

thousand of the natives of Turin, and at least half
as many of its floating population. The King had
to open Parliament.
In order to open Parliament the King has only
to issue forth from the quadrangle, encompassed on
three sides by the Royal Palace, and opening on the
fourth side into the broad square called Piazza Cas-
tello, in the centre of which, to the left hand of the
King as he rides forth, rises the Palazzo Madonna
—that quaint edifice with a French front of the
17th century, and Italian turrets at the back of the
14th—a part of which is occupied by the Senate or
Upper House of Parliament.
The whole of Turin and of its foreign visitors, all
the gay trappings and tinsel and frippery with
which it decks itself, must be condensed in this its
central square, and the stiff, straight streets open-
ing into it at right angles. The whole of Turin is
in the square and streets, save and except those
whom either business, or favour, or a good pair of
elbows brings within the precincts of the Palace
itself.
The Palace itself is a quaint and almost grotesque
medley outside; inside it has a magnificent, truly
Italian, giant staircase, and a still more gigantic
hall, which was once meant merely for a vestibule, or
anteroom, and is now turned to purposes of a
chamber, or, as the English would say, a " house."
Within this hall, which is nearly twice as high as
it is either long or broad, an amphitheatre has been
erected ; on the steps are the senators' seats, above
these the galleries for the diplomatic and fashion-
able audience. In a solemnity like the present one
—" a Royal sitting," as it is called—the throne is
reared up in the inside of the arena, on the right of
the King as he enters.
Soon after daybreak, as I am told, ladies and
gentlemen began to take their seats in the tribunes,
or galleries, as their tickets entitled them. When I
entered, at 10 o'clock, it was difficult to find even
standing room. Half an hour later the place was
" cram-full." By this time the senators began to
enter pell-mell; with them the deputies. Towards
11 they had all taken their seats, without distinc-
tion, when a clapping of hands announced the
arrival of the Royal family. Two young Princes,
one on each hand of the Duchess of Genoa, sat on
the front seat of the central gallery ; behind them
was a numerous staff of bestarred Court grandees.
Almost instantly afterwards the hall shook with
a thunder of mingled cheers and plaudits. The
King walked in, crossed the hall with his firm step,
and took his seat on the throne. His Ministers
stood around and behind him ; as the shouts ceased,
a voice—that of the new Minister of State, Count
Sclopis, I believe—called out—" 'Signori Senatori
e Deputati, it Re v'invita a sedere." The same
Minister proceeded to administer the oath to the
senators, reading the
_form, and calling out the
senators by an appel nominal, upon which every
man, as his turn came, rose and spoke the word
" Giuro !"
The same ceremony was gone through with the
deputies, the Home Minister, Farini, administer-
ing the oath to the Lower House.
As the names were called in alphabetical order, a
man familiar with Italians of distinction in the dif-
ferent provinces could not help being struck with
the juxtaposition of names and persons, many of
whom, though known by reputation to each other,
some to all Italy, and even to all Europe, had never,
perhaps, held any intercourse with each other, and
had, indeed, nothing in common but the language
of which their respective dialects are so many
branches, men of all parties, men of all professions,
of all ranks, and, indeed, of all character, met here
—old, stubborn, Piedmontese pig-tailed gentlemen,
young, hot-headed Lombard and Tuscan democrats,
the blood of Strozzi and Pepoli, the literary genius
of Manzoni and Tommaseo, the scientific learning
of Panizza and Lanetti, the military valour of La
Marmora and Cialdini, together with the intel-
lectual and moral worth of enslaved Ttaly, repre-
sented by illustrious exiles from Venice, Rome, and
Naples, such as Tecchio, Mamiani, Sforza-Cebuilui,
Poerio, Scialoia, Tommasi, Imbriani, and many
others.

'I he appel was over ; the King's speech was
handed to him. In despite of irregularity, and even
oddity and wildness of features, the King has it in
his power to be very dignified no less than exceed-
ingly gracious ; he reads with ease and composure,
with a wonderfully clear, manly, mellow voice,
with an accent which is certainly not Tuscan or
Roman, but neither is it harshly or unpleasantly
Piedmontese. In spite of the vastness of the hall
and multitude, I do not think one word of the
speech could be lost by any person who had ears
to hear. There was enough almost in every sen-
tence to sink deep into the hearts of all assembled,
and give.rise to a deep an i lasting emotion. The
speech was such as one might expect from the logic
of a Cavour fashioned after the rhetoric of Farini.
1 believe this latter historian for some time has had
a hand in the drawing up of documents of this na-
ture, but in the present instance there evidently
were phrases which so strictly belong to the con.
ventionalities of the written language that the good
King, who is so much more of a sportsman and war-
rior than of a scholar, would hardly read them
without wincing as at something he was unused to
—something the exact bear ng of which he must
take on trust.

tary men and civilians. Commercial affairs are in a state
of stagnation ; there is no money current, and the attacks
of the journalists against the directors of joint-stock com-
panies are not calculated to restore credit. To add to the
distress we are suffering from the severest winter experi-
enced by the oldest inhabitant. The railways are in some
places covered with snow to the depth of 10 feet. The con
sequence is, that the trains are frequently stopped, and the
engineers think themselves happy when they can return to
the point from which they started. The extraordinary
number of robberies at present noticed is attributed to the
prevailing poverty. A few evenings since the Grand Duke
Michael quitted the Winter Palace on foot, to visit a mili-
tary establishment on the other side of the Neva, and while
crossing the river on the ice he was stopped by two men,
enveloped in the caftan, who deliberately stripped him of
his pelisse, and told him with the greatest effrontery to
hasten his pace, or he might suffer from the cold. The
Duke returned to the palace, and informed the director of
police of his mischance. Police agents were despatched in
every direction to search for the highwaymen, but without
success. The adventure has caused much amusement
among the middle classes, as the Duke is supposed to be
very penurious, and to be much grieved at the loss of his
cloak, composed of rare fur, and ♦alued at £500.'