The Sun.
London, England, 1860-11-16 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 16, 1860.

MI•11.1011•11.11.....". _
been vanishing and vanishing away? Vanishing of a King, -would not have expected at least
as utterly from the grasp as though it had been the to be the representative of the monarch in
fairy gold of Fable-land, instead of good sterling the kingdom they had given him. GARIBALDI
red-golden coin of the realm. We now know, for preferred being landlord of Caprera, to being
for example, that between the autumn of 1859 and Minister or even Viceroy of Naples. There
the autumn of 1860, there have been drained away was nothing in his Dictatorship which be-
from the Bank of France and the Bank of England came him like the leaving it," and that though
gold coin and silver coin together amounting to the it had been administered throughout with motives
tune of £15,000,000. Whither this fifteen million which none dared to suspect.
can have actually flown however, we are loft almost We confess we feel it a kinthe last visitd of nationaof GARI-
BALDI Entirely do we sympathise with
l honour
entirely to conjecture. If we are conscious, for that to the English Admiral
example, that three millions of silver have been BALDI was paid
absorbed in Morocco—we know also for certain the correspondent whoseas the account we transcribe :
again in this matter that neither Austria nor " About six o'clock, Washington steamed
out, GARIBALDI went to pay his last visit, and the
Russia have gained any advantages whatever. We
last visit that he paid to any one, was to Admiral
know that the bank balances of the United States
for whom I have heard the hero express
have evidenced but a slight, indeed a scarcely appre- MUNDY,
ciable, improvement. Altogether, in fact, counting the highest respect and affection. With him he
remained about a uarter of an hour, and invited
even the full probable extent of cash payments for
q
grain in Northern Germany, particularly in the him to visit the bay where NELSON la y.%' You
sea ports of Prussia, no more than £5,000,000 of shall see my cows,' said this truly great man, and
these £15,000,000 that have disappeared can be drink fresh milk.' During the interview he said
reasonably accounted for—so that we are still at a not a word of himself, of his regrets and mortifica-
loss to conceive where, in the name of fortune, the tions, but he spoke of Italy, and said that her pro-
gold and silver, that the accounts show to have spects were good, and so he left Naples ; and Eng-
actually gone, canhave been absorbed, coin untraced land may well be proud that the last visit of this
to the amount (within a year) of £10,000,000. It is pure, high-minded man was paid to a British ad-
somewhat more important a riddle, this still left for miral."
popular solution, than that ludicrons little problem GARIBALDI evidently understands thoroughly
gravely put to his readers by the late ALBERT both our country and our Admirals. As a coun-
SMITH in one of his comic publications, the astound- terpart we transcribe a despatch announcing
ing problem as to where all the pins go! That the honours of a very different sort, conferred by very
bullion does absolutely drain away from the Bank different persons upon the French General at
the Money Market is aware at intervals, only Rome, and the French Admiral, who is anchored
too painfully these intervals, moreover, not very far from Admiral MUNDAY, " The
being anything but like the angel's visits Opirdono publishes a despateh from Naples an-
" few and far between," on the contrary, nouncing that General GOYON and Admiral BAR-
many and frequent. When—as the bullion falls BIER DE TINAN had been decorated by King
lower and lower—up goes the rate of discount at FRANCIS 11. with the Grand Cross of the Order of
the Bank of England; the Bank itself, of course, St januarias7" We question whether our Admiral
gaining all the profit of the transaction. Recently, would have accepted these honours, if offered him;
as was well known in the Money Market, bullion we are sure that he will remember with pleasure,
to the value of £300,000 had been withdrawn— as long as he lives, the one he has received.
i 335,000 have followed suit yet more recently—and The correspondent of the Daily News, from
still £365,000 additional are expected to go the:same whom we have just quoted, shows us in some
way out of file coffers of the Bank of England. further remarks, how completely the feelings of
Gradually—gradually in the meanwhile, the rate of persons on the spot harmonise with those
discount has risen, until, from being but a few so far off—adverting to the hero's departure,
days back of a most moderate character, it rose late he says :—" I cannot tell you how I feel.
last evening to six per cent. discount ! As it is, we A cloud seems to have come over the city
repeat, our system is simultaneously in opposite this morning. The highest specimen of moral
directions, running into the two extremes— dignity the world has long seen has just left, and
—here too easy—there toostringent. Certainly we have now to fall back upon glitter and glare and
with a result most injurious to our own interests. royal rank. Yet his departure is the grandest act
in the history of his connexion with the Italian re-
On one hand, allowing the precious metals the
utmost facility of transfer abroad—on the other
volution. And you should know Caprera to appre-
hand, rigidly restricting the monetary circulation ciate the grandeur of his character. It consists of
at home amongst ourselves. As the system has
two rocks ; it is peopled only by his immediate fol-
lowers or servants ; a few camp cloths would cover
worked now very recently, we have seen it within
this last week lowering the bullion in the Bank of it, such as those which Madame Mario presented
England to a total of £13,200,000, with an im- him with from the English supplies ; and by
minent probability of that amount being further the time you will receive this, the Conqueror
lowered in the same way, during this next week, of the Two Sicilies and the idol of many
to the sum of £12,800,000. Of these fluctuations millions will be seated on a rock, accompanied
we might surely think the country had by this by a few faithful hearts, and the lord
time had enough. We might at least imagine that of a few cattle. History has few such
it had thereby been enabled to draw some wisdom beautiful specimens of humanity on record."
from its somewhat bitter experiences. Has it done We " should know Caprera," he says, and we
so ? That, alas, still remains to a great extent in-
hope we shall yet know it. At present we ques-
scrutably problematical. Could we answer—would
tion whether a dozen Englishmen, and these pro-
that this were:possible—in the affirmative, we should bably sailors, could tell us anything about it. All
speedily have reason to announce the issue, once we know at present is, that the majority of maps do
more, of One and of Two Pound Bank of England not even mention it ; and that in those which do,
Notes, the close of these periodical rises in the rate the reader may find it on the north-east side of
the Island of Sardinia, close by another and some-
of discount and the termination of these frequent
and bewildering drains upon the bullion-chests what larger islet named Madalena. The time
of the Bank accompanied by the absorption some- will certainly come when the island will be pur-
chased by the Italian nation, as a memorial of one
where (as during this twelvemonth last past) from
the Bank of France and the Bank of England of of its greatest men, as Mount Vernon was by the
the precious metals in circulation of a full round Americans. We may, then, only hope that it
sum of £10,000,000 still to this moment untraced will be regarded with greater reverence than our
and seemingly untraceable. republic brethren pay to the relics of their WASH-
INGTON.

Who will be the first to visit Caprera, to see it
with his own eyes in the late Italian autumn of
1860, to tell us what it is—not merely by its lati-
tude and longitude, the heights of its lofty rocks,
the extent of its little surface, and the geology of
its strata—but to tell us how it now looks, what is
the aspect or character of its cultivation, and espe-
cially to what kind of habitation the man has retired
who has just conveyed splendid palaces and parks
from a worthless to a worthy King. Our friends
of the illustrated press may feel quite certain that
whichever of them shall give us a first-rate picture
of the patriots's island-retreat will not want a large
sale that week. And it is a subject worth pains.
It may offer little specially suitable to the artist,
though even that is hardly likely of an island
which, though it has been denominated but a
" ten-acre rock," peers in the climate of Sardinia
more than eight hundred feet above the sea. But
what will interest all is the home of Garibaldi.
That will want nothing but a thoroughly truthful
picture to be of interest for all time. It is the
Mount Vernon of Italy, and thither, most appro-
priately, the Italian despiser of vulgar ambition
sailed in the Washington. And, long before these
words were penned, he has, we trust, concluded a
prosperous voyage. Driven from his ancestral
home by the territorial covetousness of the French-
man, he sought a new home where an Englishman
and he should divide the whole territory between
them. And the Englishman having died, GARI-
BALDI is now, we believe. " monarch of all he
surveys," the only population being himself and
a few of his personal followers. The glory having
departed from Nice will now centre on Caprera.
It was there GARIBALDI could maintain himself by
his industry. \lt was thence he sailed on his
immortal expedition to Sicily. And it is
thither he has retired after having nobly
achieved one of the noblest deeds of the cen-
tury. _ _

Devise a great good thing, and a hundred
unlooked-for subsidiary good things are sure to
attend it. A guard of honour to those whom
Englishmen delight to honour, can now be impro-
vised at half an hour's notice by the bugle in most
towns of the Kingdom. We have observed this on
some occasions before. Lord PALMERSTON had
the advantage of it in the North ; but it was never
more appropriately shown than yesterday morning.
The young Volunteers for their country turned out
almost as if by magic, at sound of the bugle, in
the three towns of Plymouth, Devonport, and
and Stonehouse, to do honour to their young
Prince. On them it devolved to be the first to re-
ceive him, an] honour which he acknowledged
by riding along in front of their ranks with un-
covered head.,

We have already given our Prince our welcome
to his mother country; but we congratulate him
all the more, glancing over the accounts of his
wearisome voyage. Stiff east winds, such as
Lieutenant MAURY had told us wore quite enough
to prevent the Hero from making headway, our
own experience at home had suggested ; but such
miserable fogs and calms we had hardly thought of.
Of course, a squadron must keep together, if it can ;
but we confess we should have been much inclined
in the Prince's position, to have cast aside form
and rule, to have shipped ourselves on board the
Ariadne, and thus to have got rid of our own dis-
comforts, and relieved the anxieties of all at home
by getting to Plymouth many days earlier. The
Ariadne had all she could do, it seems, to sail slow
enough for the Hero. The little frigate kindly
took the big ship in tow more than once till haw-
sers snapped with the weight of their sluggish
burden ; however, through fogs, and storms, and
calms, and obstinate head winds, we are glad enough
to welcome our Prince home again.
It has been a difficult coming out into public life
for so young a man ; and though he had excellent
advisers, yet instances were of constant occurrence,
when thrown for the moment on his own discretion,
he acted as became a young Sovereign of Eng-
land. From the accounts which have arrived
from time to time the impression must
have been in this country, as in America,
that his home training has been the best possible.
It is not easy to imagine how any youth could
have better suited the instincts of his age and
the proprieties of his situation. He enjoyed all
that a young man should enjoy with the zest of
nineteen, while what became the son of a QUEEN
in his intercourse with others seemed a part of
his nature. It is not too much to say that his
representation of English loyalty to the Ameri-
cans has been a blessing to both countries. They
like us the better for seeing our PRINCE, and we
like them the better for receiving him so respect-
fully and cordially.

Difficult is it to say which was his greatest
work, but, we think, the last. He goes to no
Strathfieldsaye or Blenheim; he leaves no charge
on posterity for his offspring ; he takes even no
pension on his own account for idle greatness ; he
conferred the greatest of blessings on a nation, and
on a King the boon which all monarchs prize above
all others, a large accession of willing subjects; on
hundreds he conferred opportunities to get places,
promotions, salaries—he takes nothing himself. It
is said a military title of honour has been created
and given him, and we doubt not the honest-hearted
and generous KING would have given him anything
—but he wants nothing ! He can maintain him-
self ; and for the rest, there he will be, ready when
the opportunity calls ; and, even ready to make an
opportunity to complete Italian emancipation. If he
ohe this---;g
had any favour to ask of VICTOR EMMANUEL it was,
wreeamdyay an he
ve sure,riv",alirmemy let
embietretohstewspring,
mh aa\y'e,
and give to me portion that of the work which I
shall select." An ambitious post that would certainly
not be—but one where he and
his could make the
Austrians quake through all the
Quadrilateral, we
may be sure it would be. Few, indeed, are the
men who could have led on the
noble youth of
Italy to do the deeds they have done. It was his
moral inspiration, quite as mush as his military
skill and genius, which made them what they were.
But fewer still could have turned their back on all
that he left a crowd of place-hunters eager to
obtain—few, who in leaving a kingdom at the feet

CABINET COUNCIL,—A Cabinet Council was held
yesterday at the official residence of the First Lord of the
Treasury, in Downing-street. The Ministers present were
—Viscount Palmerston, the Lord Chancellor, Earl Gran-
ville, the Duke of Argyll, Sir G. Lewis, Lord J. Russell,
the Right Hon. S. Herbert, Sir C. Wood, the Chancellor of
the Exchequer, the Duke of Somerset, the Right Hon. T.
M. Gibson, Lord Stanley of Alderley, the Right Hon. C.
P. Villiers, Sir G. Grey, and the Right Hon. E. Cardwell.
Viscountess Palmerston was, we are happy t•
learn, so far recovered from her recent indisposition as t)
be able to take a carriage airing yesterday afternoon.
His Highness Prince Belosselsky, accompanied
by M. de Schevitch and M. Chevron; has left the Claren-
, don Hotel for Paris,

CHRISTMAS BOOK.

brothers Dalziel. Among the best must be
mentioned " Old Pincher." The eagerness of the
child springing forward to secure the long-expected
treasure, and the unfinished chubby, fubsy look
peculiar to puppies, are admirably depicted by the
skilful pencil of Gilbert. The same artist has dis-
tinguished himself throughout the volume. " Sir
Harold the Hunter" is an allegorical sketch, in which
the idea is gracefully developed. " Tracy de Yore
and Hubert Grey" aptly suggests the varying charac-
teristics of the different youths. The Baron's heir
is languidly regarding the prospect, while his ener-
getic companion, the Herdsman's son, seems replete
with the spirit of the hills and torrents.
For the pleasing delineation of sweet country
scenes we cannot do better than mention " The
Green Hill Side," and " They all Belong to Me,"
by R. Pheny, and also " Winter's Wild Flowers,"
by S. Read, and " Loch Leven's Gentle Stream,"
by Leitch. " The Chamois," by Zwecker, is
forcible and effective. " The Song of the Sea-
gulls" is another specimen of animal life, very
vividly drawn. The first illustration of Birds, repre-
senting the little songsters in their leafy habitations,
is an exquisite picture. The two latter are by
Wolf. The picture accompanying these lines—
" The poet boy who sitteth upon the upland grass,
Whose eagle thoughts aro nestled by the Zephyr wings
that pass,"
is one of exquisite beauty, thoroughly realising
the writer's meaning. The figure of the
Boy in " The Child's Offering " is full of
truth and power; it is one of the most im-
pressive in the volume. At the commencement of
the book there is a portrait of the authoress,
which is most excellent. It is taken from a
photograph by John Watkins, and is engraved
by F. Holl. Among the contents it is
gratifying to meet with the verses on Thomas
Hood, which originated the idea of the
monument to that lamented poet, and as such they
from a graceful tribute to his memory, while they
are a lasting memento of a kindred spirit estimating
the genius that shone so brightly in life, and griev-
ing with honest indignation over the neglect that
brooded so darkly round the grave of departed
worth. One of the most affecting poems is that
entitled " Not as I used to do," which mournfully
tells of the author's long suffering. One of the
saddest among the grisly troop—
" The painful family of death,
More hideous than their queen,"

Poems by Blizci Cook. Selected and edited by the
Author. Routledge and Co.
This edition is by far the most elegant of any
that has yet been published of this author's works.
It is among the choicest of the superb literary of-
ferings to be presented at the coming season of joy
and festivity. Redolent of high artistic beauty,
illustrative of poems which have stood the test of
public criticism for years, and won for themselves
the admiration and patronage of all classes and all
countries, this volume will doubtless be heartily
welcomed by those who can happily afford to pur-
chase it, and anxiously coveted by those who can
only " look and long." The variety of theme, the
beauty and originality of thought, the vigour of
expression, and the genuine spirit of genius per-
vading the poems, amply claim the proud position
which the author has attained ; and it may be
safely predicted that the verse of Eliza Cook will
£'e haunting the hearts and homes of our childrens'
chlldren, when many of the grand and mystic poetic
aspieations that have been ushered in with drum
and trumpet, will have faded into the shadows of
oblivion, a "prey to dumb forgetfulness."
When will the noble, spirit-stirring song " The
Englishman" be struck out from our remembrance ?
'When will the pure :and simple pathos of " The
Old Arm-Chair" fail to awaken the choking heart-
throb in those who know what it is to recur with
tender sorrow to the associations of the loved and
lost ?
When will the majestic " Song of Old Time" be
surpassed in its truthful force—such truthful force
as we find in these lines?
I wear not the purple of earth-born Kings,
Nor the stately ermine of lordly things ;
But monarch and courtier though great they be,
Must fall from their glory and bend to me.
q
I eat through treasures with moth and rust,
I lay the gorgeous palace in dust.
I make the shell-proof tower my own,
And break the battlement stone from stone.
Work on at your cities and temples, proud Man,
Build high as ye may and strong as ye can ;
But the marble shall crumble, the pillar shall fall,
And Time, old Time shall be King after all.
When shall we meet with more beautiful thought:
than those which the author has embodied in the
subject " Love"—Love in its broadest and immortal
sense ? We cannot resist quoting a few of the
.nee.

There are few things of gloom that meet our Sorrow or our
Hate,
Where Love and Beauty have not once been portion of
their state ;
Few things are seen in charmless guise that shutteth out
all trace
Of GoD's infinitude of Joy, of Purity and Grace.
* *
Thes bruoikereniadanandanolyinathgaent slow decayditsnteasures
play ;
The stagnant pool that taints and kills the mallow and the
rush
Has filtered through the silver clouds and cool'd the rain-
, bow's flush.

There's not a dark, lull coffin board but what has stood to
bear
A. swarm of mummer warblers in the mellow, greenwood air ;
There's not a thread of cerecloth but has held its blossom-
bells,
And swung the morning pearls about within the fragrant
wells.

Love lurketh round us everywhere—it fills the great design ;
It gives the soul its chosen mate—it loads the autumn vile;
It dyes the orchard branches red—it folds the worm in silk ;
It rears the daisy where we tread, and bringeth corn ands
milk.

Love, beautiful and boundless Love ! thou dwellest here

below,
Teaching the human lip to smile—the violet to blow;
Thine is the breath ethereal that yet exhales and burns
In sinful breasts, as incense steals from dim, unsightly
urns.

Thou art the holy record seal that Time can ne'er annul ;
The dove amid tho vulture tribe—theilamp within the skull,
Thou art the one, bright Spirit] Thing that is not bought

is that loss of physical ease, that sense of delight in
the mere sensation of living which to those capable
of appreciating the beauties of this fair earth, and
reverencing the majesty and glory of God's creation,
is the brightest boon bestowed by health, and
the one which especially appears to come direct
from the Giver of all good gifts—
,
" The common air, the sea, the skies,
To me are opening Paradise."
Such a melancholy deprivation as the long day of
nervous torture, the watching night of sleepless
anguish, the stings of sorrow and the pangs of dis-
appointment entail, not alone in themselves, but in
their consequences and effects, can hardly be more
powerfully expressed, and scarcely more beautifully
pictured„ than in these verses :

and sold
The cherub-elve that laugheth in the giant face of Gold.
Love—exquisite, undying Love—runs through Creation's

span,
Gtushing from countless springs, to fill the ocean heart of

11 an,;
And there it broadly rolleth on in deep, unfathom'd flood,
Swelling with the Immortal Hope that craveth more 0.
" Good."

NOT AS I USED TO DO.
I look on the chestnut blossom
As it points to the cloudless sky,
On the daisy's golden bosom,
And the hyacinth's deep blue eye.
I see the lime tree flinging
Its delicate green arms out,
The fragrant jasmine clinging,
And the woodbine running about ;
The lilac hiding the paling
With clusters of purple and white,
And the graceful laburnum trailing
Its tresses of radiant light.
But for me the garlanded bowers
Have lost their rainbow hue.
I look on the fields and flowers,
But not as I used to do.
I hear the bird boy's rattle
Chime in with the cawing rook;
I hear the low of the cattle,
And the plash of the rippling brook;
I hear the shepherd singing,
And the bleat of the sportive lamb ;
I hear the loud flail swinging,
And the barn-door's creaking slam ;
I hear the swallows darting,
Like arrows, in chase of the fly,
And the tawny leveret starting
At play in the copse just by ;
I hear the broad flags quiver
Where the wind and tide rush through ;
I listen to mill-wheel and river,
But not as I used to do.
I hear the blackbird telling .
His love tale to his mate,
And the merry skylark swelling
The choir at " heaven's gate."
The cuckoo away in the thicket
Is giving his two old notes,
And the pet-doves hung by the wicket
Are talking with ruffled throats ;
Tho honey-bee hums as he lingers
Where shadows on clover heads fall,
And the wind with leaf-tipped fingers,
Is playing in concert with all.
I know tha music that gushes
Is melody sweet and true,
And I listen to zephyrs and thrushes,
But not as I used to do.
No more can my footsteps wander
Through woodlands loved and dear;
I gaze on the hill-tops yonder,
Through the mist of a hopeless tear.
My spirit is worn and weary,
With waiting for health and rest;
My long, long night is dreary,
And my summer day unblest :
My suffering darkens the noonlight,
My anguish embitters the balm,
My loneliness weeps in the moonlight,
And sighs in the evening calm.
Oh, Suffering's mournful story
Must be wofully long and true,
When it finds me noting God's glory,
But not as I used to do.

A charming contrast to philosophy and sentiment
is often evoked by the pen of this poet in the form
of sportive satire or animated humour—now dealing
with everyday foibles—then treating the dear old
" nursery rhymes" with familiar and genial hand-
ling ; bringing back " Jack the Giant Killer" to
disperse our terrible Gogs and Magogs of Care
and Pain, and introducing " Cinderella" with all
the olden interest and excitement which used to be
attached to her memorable slipper—the slipper
which must have afforded a very contrary inter-
pretation to the sensation we now infer from
" putting one's foot in it." The following lines
are very open to accedence from all who "run and
read!"—

Oh I how hard it appears to " lealre others alone,"

And those with most sin often cast the first stoup;
What missiles we scatter wherever we pass,
Though our own walls are form'd of most delicate glass.
Let the " wise one" in Nature's walk pause ere he shoot
At scampering Folly in Harlequin suit ; -
He'd find " motley," no doubt, in what he himself wears,
If he'd " trouble his head with his own affairs."

M •
Let a symptom of wooing and wedding be found,
And full soon the impertinent whisper goes round ;
The fortune, the beauty, the means, and the ends,
Are all carefully weighed by our "good-natured friends."
'Tis a doubt if the lady is perfectly right;
She snusi be a flirt, if she is not a fright.
Oh I how pleasant Would be if the meddlesome bears
. . . .

Would but " trouble their heads with their own affairs."
We are busy.in helping the far-away slave—
We must cherish the Pole, for he's foreign and brava;
Our alms •giving record is widely enrolled,
To the East and the West we send mercy and gold;
But methinks there are those in our own famous land

Whose thin cheeks might be fattened by Charity's hand
And when John Bull is dealing his generous shares

Lot him " trouble his head with his own affairs."

There is an original preface to this volume en-
titled " New Lines on an Old Subject," and in it,
as will be seen, a tribute is paid to those old nursery
stories,—which live on, despite of sneers, scoffs,
and scorn—which are the first to attract and fix
the wavering notice of Infancy, which linger in the
mind during the trials and toils of life, and
which often survive grander and sterner know-
ledge, to dwell among the last faint remembrances
that wander through the waning faculties of age.
Long may such ballads and legends flourish ; how-
ever mean and trifling they may be, for they are en-
twined and associated with the days of innocence.
Let them outlast the traces of the world's follies and
allurements, and when these are effaced by repent-
ance, or set aside from weariness, the thoughts of
home's affections, the feelings of childhood's trust
will not be unmeet companions for the soul about to
enter on that state where the humble shall be exalted
and the mighty laid low. Of that time we have read
that " whether there be tongues they shall cease,"
" whether there be prophecies they shall fail,"
" whether there be knowledge it shall vanish away;"
but it Is said to holy, happy, innocent Childhood,
"Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." All admirers
of the simple and the true will appreciate the tone
and tenour of these lines here subjoined :

Messrs. Routledge have done the work perfectly,
and the book reflects great credit on all concerned
in its " getting up." The illustrators have evidently
put their hearts in their pencils, and felt the poetry
they have so justly treated ; moreover, the beautiful
volume is a proud trophy for its author to look on
—a trophy which has been awarded her by "the
people," "the people " whom she has ever delighted
to honour, a trophy which stamps her as having
secured an elevated and lasting place among the
glorious poets of Old England,—
For She hath that inspiring Art
Which Nature prompts in those,
Who steal by Verse into the Heart—
And Captivate by Prose !