The Sun.
London, England, 1867-07-09 00:00:00

the present line from St. Petersburg to Moscow,
with a view to advance the development of rail-
way enterprise throughout the dominions of the
Czar. It is rumoured that the sum required is
£16,000,000.

A drawing has taken place of 275,950 Bonds of
the Peruvian Five per Cent. Loan of 1865, to be
paid off at par.

Nerbudda shares are now quoted discount to
premium. With regard to the establishment of
the through railway route from Bombay to Cal-
cutta, the Bombay Gazette states there is very little
doubt that it may be obtained by the beginning
of the next year, with the exception of the break
at the bridge over the Towa (a tributary of the
Nerbudda), if the Government would urge the con-

tractors not to mind waiting for the bridge, and
Would sanction the running of trains from Calcutta
to Bombay, to either side of the river. The respon-
sibility, however, of coming to such a decision rests
with the Government of India, not with the Go-
vernment of Bombay.

English railway shares have been'very flat of late.
All suffer from the want of confidence brought
about by the fiction of past accounts. In future,
each line will have to stand upon its own merits,
as directors will no longer be allowed to carry to
capital account what ought to be placed against
revenue account. No permanent rise will take
place in railway property until the next half-yearly
accounts are published, as the public will only then
be able to judge of the intrinsic value of each
company.

Foreign stocks have generally been dealt in at
lower values, each new loan brought out depreciates
former loans, and when it is considered that almost
every kingdom in Europe is in want of money, it
is not surprising that foreign stocks remain so low,
although discounts are at 2} per cent.—Westmin-
ster Gazette.

LOUIS VEUILLOT'S LETTERS ON ROME.

In Paris are sometimes to be seen, wearing a
costume half Parisian, peasant girls who pretend
to be Neapolitans or Romans, but who do not put
one at all in mind of the Madonnas of Raphael.
They have now and then a remnant of picturesque-
ness about them ; God grant that they have a
remnant of virtue in their hearts, but chi lo sa 7

Such as they are, shod in boots trodden down at
heel, and wrapped in a plaid cloak, living by
inendicity, or still more wretched labour—slaves,
into the bargain, of a master who trades on their
vices and makes a harvest of their misery —these

poor exiles afford us a true picture of the Italy of
Victor Emmanuel. The male of this species is
_ _ _

especially conspicuous in the neighbourhood of Flo-
rence. At the station of Pistoja, I came across a
remarkable type of this kind.
He was a fellow' of about thirty years of age,
magnificent in stature, face, and beard, with dark
eyes—an Antinoiis in moustachios and light-

coloured waistcoat—and yet his whole person,
even to his elegant and fashionable dress, bore a
ridiculous appearance. This pretentious simpleton
amused himself by walking beside a long file of

carriages filled with priests, muttering grotesque

invocations, full of insults to the names of Jesus
and Mary, and making game of the faith of the
travellers. Beside him was a poor devil of an
official, who smiled with forced complacency. A
significant look, and a word still more significant,
made him understand that he was observed ; on
which he hung down his head and was silent ; but,
as soon the train was in motion, he looked up
again, stroking superbly his superb moustache,
with the air which General Fracassini might have
put on had he witnessed the Austrians in flight.
The journey across Italy is poisoned by the fre-
quency of such apparitions. Priests who have been
insulted, have been insulted, not by the people,
but by such gentry as these, who hold offices of
all kinds, which have been created for them here as
elsewhere. They end by drawing down upon them-
selves some severe rebukes, which they richly de-
serve, and then they become very cautious. For,
even in their war against the priests, which is

their chief glory, the heroes of new Italy keep a
careful loot-out to save their rear. So spadone a
glue ganthe always forms a part of their equipment,
and skeddadling is their principal manceuvrre
(la pourdre d'escampette est la principals de leurs
munitions).
Neither the grossness nor the swaggering imper
tinence of the Italianissina have as yet debased the
ancient, noble physiognomy of the Roman people.
Italian courtesy has taken refuge in Rome. No
trait of irreverence is to be seen ; the walls make
no obscene grimaces, and utter no shouts of death.
The whole city wears a look of cordial good hu-
mour, strangely pleasant to see. The coachmen,
as busy as everywhere else, neither blaspheme,
nor strike, nor make a row, nor refuse to drivo,
and generally ask no more than their due. I have
very many other Peculiarities to note, but this is
enough of surprises for a day.
Progress must needs, however, enter Rome. It
is there already. I have just come across it; it cost
me a baiocco. In the Piazzetta di San Carlo al
Corso, a little table before the door of a café,
placed in the air and the shade, enticed me irre-
sistibly to breakfast. A cup of cafe au fait,
little roll, two delicious fresh figs, dropping pearls
of honey—two o those figs which the Emperor
Augustus loved so much—a large glass of spark-
ling water—the animated spectacle in the street
—the sight of a neighbouring balcony hung with
_ _

brilliant cloths, now silent, but which spoke to
me, for I have seen there life and death—how
mach do you think all this cost me ? I paid five
sous, and that was too dear. It was a baiocco too
much—the baiocco of progress.
But to speak seriously. You cannot imagine the
abundance of life which flows at this moment
through Rome. The splashing and leaping foun-
tains which make glad the city are but a faint
image of this torrent. At Paris you have move-
ment ; it is not wanting here. You may regale
yourself with the noise of carriages like the
waters in the gardens of Conde, they are never
quiet, day or night—but here, of three of those
carriages which drive by with such noise, you may
reckon that one at least, and often two or three,
carry ideas. This is what Paris does not offer in the
same measure. All the visitors at Paris are there
out of curiosity or for worldly matters ; all the
visitors at Rome are there for the sake of its gran-
deur, its beauty, its holiness—on account of spiri-
tual things, matters of eternity.
One may well be intoxicated with the wonders of
the Universal Exhibition. I will not deny their
beauty ; but it is one thing to visit the Chinese
department, or even the gallery of the history
of industry, and quite another thing to visit the
Vatican, the Colosseum, the Mamertine prisons,
the Appian Way. The imposing presence of Kings,
surrounded by their generals, does not inspire
thoughts of so high an order as the sight of Pius
IX. surrounded by his bishops, all impressed with
a consciousness of the Divine Presence. And,
again, it is quite another thing to speculate on the
secret views of the masters of human policy, and
on the effect of the last conferences of London,
than to estimate the effect of that divine policy
which convokes an (Ecumenical Council to reinstate
the disquieted reason of mankind. The council
is the subject of general conversation. It puts
completely aside a quantity of minor questions
and of miscellaneous topics which engage atten-
tion at other times. Anecdotes and reminiscences
are forsaken, to enter upon universal history.
At this very moment is being written one of the
grand and noblo pages of the world's annals. The
most important event which the nineteenth century
will bequeath to the future is this council. Dc
Ronald said that the Revolution, which began by
the proclamation of the Rights of Man, would end
by y e theras a proclamationlmest
to of
mt
madness,
ne
s s Rightstoo f a
ss
eGod.rt thatwould e
drawingßevolution is near its' end ; but the day
when the council shall be fixed we may say the
counter revolution has begun, and liberty ought
to rejoice thereover, for the Revolution is the great
enemy, the very negation of liberty.
A path will at last be opened for us to come
out of anarchy without falling under tyranny ;
and all just and honest minds, now cast down by
their fatal isolation, will know the ground where
they may and ought to unite. It was an idea en-