The Sun.
London, England, 1859-11-11 00:00:00

TUSCANY.

On Friday last Colonel Bethlen, the Hungarian
in command of the Hussars of Piacenza, assembled
his newly-recruited men on the square of the Pilotta
at Parma, and there addressed them in a very clever
Hand impressive, thoroughly soldier-like speech." He
reminded the soldierS that in the years 1848-9 many
Italians fought under Goigey and Klapka in the
Hungarian ranks, in the common cause of national
independence against Austrian tyranny ; he said it
was now their turn (his, the Colonel's, and that of
several other officers commanding the same corps)
to requite the Italians, by giving their life for
the cause of Italy. He told them that every vic-
tory obtained in behalf of their country was equally
a triumph for his own Fatherland ; and that, there-
fore, they should look upon him and noon his coun-
trymen in their ranks as not only comrades but
brethren. Most assuredly Austria has to struggle
against difficulties which no foresight on her part
could obviate—difficulties of her own creation.
The very perfection of her military organisa-
tion turns against her. The Italians never, by
their unaided efforts, could have succeeded in
giving any body of cavalry such a rapid and effi-
cient organisation as those 1,200 Piedmontese Hus-
sars are sure to receive at the hands of these Hun-
garian exiles—men whose consummate ability and
thorough experiQnce will be stirred to the utmost
exertion by their hatred of their country's oppres-
sors and their zeal for that Italian emancipation
which they look upon as the prologue of that Eu-
ropean drama which they think must lead to their
own enfranchisement.

AMERICA.

LIVERPOOL, THURSDAY EVENING.

The screw steamer Vigo, with the United States'
mails for New York, arrived at Queenstown at
12.30 p.m., and after embarking passengers and
mails, proceeded at 1 p.m.

ADELPHI THEATRE.

" The Dead. He- art," a drama of more weight and
more pretension to sustained inters: than has been
witnessed for a long time at any theatre, was pro-
duced last night with distinguished success. Long
beyond the ordinary- measure, it is evidently built
on the model of those vast plays that occupy the
whole of an entire evening at the Porte Saint Mar-
tin or the Ambigu Comique ; its catastrophe, as well
as its general complexion, will probably awaken
reminiscences of "Le Chevalier de la Maison Rouge.'►
But we believe that it is original in the accepted
sense of the word, by which we mean that the
author, Mr. Watts Phillips, has himself constructed
its framework, and that there is no single foreign
drama to:which its origin can be traced.
Like many pieces of the modern French school,
" The Dead Heart" commences with an act which,
occurring several years before the commencement
of the main story, and, as it were, preparing the
spectators for what is to follow, is called by the
name of "prologue," though it differs alike from
the opening speech of old Greek tragedy, and from
the flippant series of couplets spoken before the rise
of the curtain in the last century. This " prologue"
shows us how the Count St. Valerie (Mr. Billing-
ton) falls in love with a Catherine Duval (Miss
Woolgar), a girl of humble extraction, betrothed to
Robert Landry (Mr. Webster), a young sculptor,
and how the Abbe Latour, his friend and ad-
viser, locks up the inconvenient rival in the Bas-
tille, by means of that invaluable instrument, the

lettre de cachet. All this takes place in 1771, but
when the curtain rises for the first act we find our-
selves in the year 1789, when the Bastille has just
fallen into the hands of the Parisian populace, who
release the unfortunate sculptor after a confinement
of 18, years:: ' The return of Robert to consciousness
from a state of torpor affords room for one of those
elaborate psychological delineations in which Mr.
Webster so greatly excels. When he has fully
recovered his wits, he resolves to devote
them to purposes of vengeance, his projected vic-
tims being the Abbe Latour and Arthur St.
Valerie (Mr. Billington), son of the Count, who
is now deceased, leaving as his widow the former
Catherine Duval. The profligacy into which the
young Count plunges headlong under the
auspices of his wicked adviser, the Abbe Latour,
seems to afford grim delight to Robert, who loses
no time in revealing himself to the anxious mother,
and thwarts her attemps to save her son from ruin.
In the year 1794 (the date of the second act) Robert,
secure in his possession of a " dead heart," can be-
come more direct in his vindictive operations. He
is now a leading man in the revolution, with almost
absolute power over the Conciergerie, in which he

holds his two victims both under sentence of death.
The young Count he reserves for execution, in spite

of the agonising entreaties of his mother the Coun-
tess. The Abbe he releases that he may delibe-
rately kill him in one of those single combats that
were first brought into fashion by the " Corsican
Brothers." However, in the course of the third act, a
change is wrought in his mind by the discovery
of a pocket-book, which once belonged to the slain
Abbe, and which contains a letter, showing that the
conduct of the deceased Count and his widow was
not so reprehensible as he had imagined. His old

devotion to Catherine, the beloved of his youth.
return 3, and he resolves to save her son. However,
thi morning appointed for the execution has arrived,
add his only course is to thrust the prisoner aside
and to take his place in the tumbril when the
muster-roll is called over. With the appearance of
Robert on the guillotine, following the dictates of a
renewed heart, and ready to lose a weary head, the
entire piece concludes.
The play was received with rapturous applause,
and its success is brilliant and genuine. The house
was crowded in every p