The Sun.
London, England, 1861-06-07 00:00:00

DEATH OF COUNT CAVOUR.

From .)
Count Cavour is gonethe.
The Times mind almost refuses
to believe what but a week ago it would have
been a doubting of Providence to think at all pro-
bable. It is as when, on a sudden darkness, the
eye is still possessed with the object that last
filled it. But just now all minds were on
Cavour. In what form would he cast the still un-
settled, still hot and seething Italy ? How would
he win Venice and Rome from the lingering
foreigner? How would he overcome the more
serious difficulties arising from diversity of race,
mutual jealousy, and conflicting traditions ? These
questions, and many others, were asked when it
was thought they would soon be answered, for busi-
ness did not slacken in the hands of Cavour. In a
small city on a rural,stream, surrounded by moun-
tain peaks, he parleyed with every Sovereign of
Europe, and compromised himself with none, in
behalf of the greatest cause that ever fell to the lot
of statesman. Italy has conquered the world ;
Italy, in its turn, has succumbed under the very
weight of its invaders; but never before did the
resources of one mind, dealing with friends and
with foes, raise a bulwark stronger than the Alps
against them all. There was not a European Court
which did not find itself brought face to face with
Cavour. With every one he had a standing con-
troversy for Italy. The harvest was over ; the
harvest-home was being celebrated ; it was but the
gleaning that remained. All at once the master
spirit has left us. The affairs remain—the man
is no more. It is the very soul of Italy that has
fled. We may range through all history and
find few parallels. A conqueror dies with an empire
to be consolidated or divided ; a young Prince
dies with a Reformation unfinished; the only child
of an unpopular Sovereign or the heir of a new
dynasty is cut off by a sudden stroke; a nation
waging a great war loses at once its chief ad-
viser or its foremost warrior ; a political principle
loses its champion—his labours just begun or just
ended. In all those cases there is unexpected con-
solation. The work is finished or in good hands,
or, after all, there is nothing to be done ; and the
world is only relieved from a personal usurpation in
order that it may return to its former and better
self. In the present instance a work which, on the
evidence of history, is at once most difficult and most
noble, has been achieved by the genius and enter-
prise of one man. Cavour held in his firm grasp
those famous Italian Republics that were never
united except to conquer Europe or under the pres-
sure of a world. Will that new unity survive the
hand that made it ? Will Italy remain in fact, when
it no longer lives in the conception of that powerful
intellect and that resolute will ? The most singular
combination of qualities, and the determination to
abandon self, and almost honour, in the pursuit,
were necessary to win success. If such a combina-
tion be necessary to retain it, that combination will
not be found. There are statesmen, and diplo-
matists, and scholars, and heroes, but there will not
soon be another who can be all, and more.
But what if the knot itself required this extrica-
tion ? There never was a great cause that did not
require its martyrs, and was not founded on their
sacrifice and cemented by their suffering. Twelve
years ago the cause now so triumphant was repre-
sented by a defeated army, a banished and dying
Sovereign, a disgraced Minister. United Italy had
become again a dream and a fable. It no longer
existed even in pamphlets and speeches. But
the other day Charles Albert lay in his tomb,
enveloped by faded chaplets, mouldy sonnets, and
miltewed orations. The living voice was silent,
the living arm WC9 paralysed, and the living heart
was broken. Among the many dreams of Europe
and the many hopes of its old nations, there was
none so impossible as that Italy should rise from
the dead, and be that independent nation which it
was not even under Imperial Rome. The policy
which raised Sardinia from her very ashes, which
made her the ally of Western Europe, which proved
her soldiers in the East, which made Austria the
aggressor, which obtained at least one more pro-
vince for Italy, which made every Italian sure of a
leader, and so made Sovereigns fly before popular
demonstrations, and armies dissolve before a band of
adventurers. This was all Cavour's. His was the
head that planned it, the heart that gave it life, and
the arm that carried it through. Had this been ail,
it might still have been classed with the work of
the men who sally forth in quest of States in the
New World, and make a little might do duty for
much right. Cavour could go on with his work.
He could reform Administrations, assimilate States,
bring order out of chaos, found legislative assemblies,
make them do their duty, and all the time prepare
the ground for future operations still more difficult.
Such is the man who has been cut off in the midst
of his labours. While we write, it is but a few
hours since he was spending his last breath for the
encouragement and union of Italy. He has fallen
in the struggle of thought and word as bravely as
the soldier dies on the battle-field.

All speak well of his successors, except that they
are not Cavour. They are even too honest, and too
rigidly exact, to use the politic al t which Cavour
used against those who deserved no better treat-
ment. There are none with the versatility required
to deal with the novelties and surprises of a revolu-
tionary period. But the present crisis of Italy's
fortune may still come under the general law
which seems to make the greatest men martyrs
to their own cause, and founds every covenant with
sacrifice. Italian unity—the creation, as some
think, of 'violence, of duplicity, of treason, and of
all the questionable acts ever practised by the weak
against the strong, by the oppressed against the
oppressor—has now the consecration of a great
death, fitly crowning a life of anxiety and labour.
They who die in a cause bury their own errors, and
purge the example which they set. The discordant
elements of Italy might not be harmonised by eny
living statesman, and may yet acknowledge the
authority of one who speaks from the grave. It is
no humiliation to bow to those whose power is in
our own bosoms, and who can only enforce their
opinions by making friends of our own instincts.
Cavour will be as great a name in the tomb as
in the Council Chamber of Turin. Possibly,
too—though this is more precarious—his death
may go far to disarm the jealousy of those
who think Sardinia too much a gainer by Italian
revolution. The living do not envy the dead, at
least on earthly grounds. France and Austria may
pay court and deference to an illustrious shade
who is no longer in a condition to provoke their
jealousy. Even the great Liberator may now feel
more respect for the man who has at least died for
his loyalty. The Court of Rome need not congratu-
late itself on the silence of him who, being dead,
yet speaketh. There is no need, then, to conclude
the game of Cavour over, and not to be played out.
There will be other Cavour: raised up by his
example, and not so easily to be cut off as a mans
natural posterity. This year, indeed, all is quiet,
and all will be quiet; but before another year we
shall see whether the example of the great Italian
statesman is buried and forgotten in the grave.

(From the Daily Keys.)
Cavour is dead. Who that read these tidings
yesterday will profess that even to-day Le has got
from them more than a vague sense of some porten-
tous
derangement of the facts on which the politics
of Europe have turned ? The event has too many
bearings and suggests too many consequences to be
grasped at once. In every free country Cavour
was almost as the name of one of its own statesmen ;
while in all countries he was regarded as the man
on whose decisions the most momentous European
questions hinged. Like most great events,
it has come upon the public by surprise.
Probably most people have at one time or
another been disposed to ask themselves
what would happen if Cavour disappeared; but
the thought has been instantly repressed : the re-
sults to be apprehended were too painful. Now
that the fact has to be looked in the face, we can
see many reasons why we might have expected it.
The fatal excesses of labour in which the Count
indulged to the total exclusion of recreation and
repose; his customary annual attacks of illness;
and the well-known atrocious abuse of the lancet
in Italian medical treatment, are enough to make
it unreasonable in us to be startled at what has
happened : but we are startled, nevertheless.
The hold which Count Cavour had taken of the
public mind was in proportion to the rapidity and
vigour with which he developed a policy directed
as much to the satisfaction of great European
necessities as to the independence and greatness of
his own country. We must go back to some great
formative period of history—far beyond theara.
pre-
tended" peace" of 1815, when Europe was b b
future
rously and traitorously hacked about, to
to the .in _s
ti e 1
men of
generations remedial work to do—back tottnhee
' of Richelieu and Oxenstein, to find
and the
conceptions, the skilful combinations,i
works proclaim
masterly execution of Cavour. 1 bold
m sight of their
afflicted with the
his character. He found Italy
satraps of Austria, againsttwi
73116'11y the
repked on her
country's degradationt
entitled by population
fruitless resistance. Ile
, . children
leaves
wunite take its place among the great
and achievement
achievementeon
the work of only ten v ~..
Powers. This °
d d Perhaps A cria was the only
dually unfol e at 0..., Linn the lof
During this perlod..we have seen his p,lu Policy
grad aims Whi h
salve, aordinary offer of Count C c
prompted the f. ..
.7 „,n auxiliaryarmy to the Crimea in 1855.
to sP"-
rier apprehensions were justified when Count
Power which
Cavour took his place in the Congress of Paris, and
there formally appealed to Europe against the
illegalities and usurpations under which his country
suffered. The alliance with France for the over-
throw of Austrian supremacy in Italy was a com-
pact all the wore daring because me had better

considered than Count Cavour the risks which a
small state runs when it accepts the military aid of
a powerful neighbour. The result at first seemed
rather to warrant the early apprehensions than
approve the final resolution of the Minister. At
the crisis of Villafranca, Louis Napoleon constituted
himself the sole adviser of Victor Emmanuel, and
expressly excluded Cavour from the counsels of his
master. Had the policy of the Minister been less
than national and Italian he had now been irretriev-
ably undone. But the Lombards, the Tuscans, the
Romagnese knew the man who had stood by them,
and took up the cause in which he had taught them
to confide, and sustained it until he was again at the
helm of his country's affairs. The extension of the
free Italian Kingdom which followed his return to
office was not accomplished without sacrifices which
sorely tried all Italian hearts, and which, as Cavour
was well convinced, could never be repeated even by
him. The time is not come for publishing the history
of these transactions ; but whenever it arrives it wi IL
be seen that not Garibaldi himself could have striven
harder to prevent the separation of Nice from Italy.
The remarkable events which have since ex-
hibited his policy, the annexation of Umbria and
the Marches,. with that of the Two Sicilies,
are fresh in every memory, and his settled pur-
pose to complete the work by acquiring Rome and
Venice are just as well known. While he was
alive nobody ever doubted that he would obtain
both. Before the first article of his faith and the
chief aim of his career—the unity and nationality
of Italy—a hundred considerations would perplex
and stagger pedantic lookers on, and in truth we
must add some others, which have at times made the
most candid friends of Italy doubt and pause, were
set aside. Onward he went without precipitation
and without delay, as free from rancour as from
remorse, sometimes compelled to suspend, but never
induced to renounce the pursuit of his magnificent
ends.

And now he is gone ; and his mighty energy,
his calm and far-seeing prudence, his vast political
knowledge can no more be useful to his country.
It is natural to ask—Who will take up and finish
his work ? The feeling congenial to the hour is,
that the loss sustained in his death is irreparable:,
We may admit this undeniable truth without ex- N-
aggerating it. What Italy needs in her political
situation is power ; and Cavour was power. His
character as a versatile and resolute statesman, full
of resource, and with a knack of rising stronger
from every defeat, was appreciated in every court
of Europe, and entered largely into the calculations
of the enemies of his country. Again, the condi-
tion of Italian affairs demanded a decision and
unity of administration, to which the concentration
of power in a single hand was very favourable
The prestige of Cavour's name, like the ascend-
ancy which he enjoyed in the Cabinet un-
challenged, was of gradual growth, and its loss
cannot be supplied. But we cannot, on reflection,
participate in the fears which so naturally arise
that the conduct-of Italian affairs must necessarily
become embarrassed in consequence of his removal.
Italy, which has given great ministers to every
principal country in Europe, will not now be want-
ing to herself. It is true the hour is one of great
graVity. Danger menaces, foes and friends may
be tempted alike to presume on fancied weakness.
But if the public men of Italy display a spirit of
self-abnegation and unity equal to their ability—
if the Ricasolis, Ratazzis, Farrinis, Mamianis,
Minghetti, Pepolis, and others only—as assur-
edly they will—lay aside any personal considera-
tion for the sake of their country, we shall look
for a successful prosecution of that policy which
its illustrious author lived long enough to develops,
and which with his dying breath he bequeathed
to his country.

THE DIVORCE COURT. •

A singular question, involving consequences of
the utmost practical importance, has just been
decided in the Divorce Court. We have heard a
great deal of retest years about the prohibited
degrees. The repeal of the law which pro-
hibits a man from marrying his deceased wife's
sister has been urged by interested parties with a
pertinacity which at one time promised to be suc-
cessful ; and it is remarkable that the agitation of
that question did not sooner cause the point to be
raised which has just been decided by the full Court
of Divorce. In order to explain what that point
is we must go back to the reign of Henry VIII.,
when the statutes defining the prohibited degrees
of consanguinity and affinity were passed. The first
of these was passed in the twenty-fifth year of that
King's reign, its principal object being to annul
his marriage with Queen Katharine, his brother's
widow, and to legalise his marriage with Anne
Boleyn. By this statute the prohibited degrees
were first defined and declared, and among these
marriage with a wife's sister or with a brother's
wife was expressly forbidden.
The next statute was passed three years later,
namely, in the twenty-eighth year of the same
King's reign, chapter seventh ; and it was to the
interpretation ot this Act that the attention of the
Divorce Court was recently called. By this Act
the King's marriage with Anne Boleyn was an-
nulled, the Princess Elizabeth declared illegiti-
mate, and the crown settled upon the issue of Jane
Seymour. It further contained a repetition of the
prohibited degrees in precisely the same terms as
those in the previous Act, but with the following
peculiar and most important addition :—" And fur-
ther to declare the meaning of these prohibitions
it is to be understood that, if it chance any man to
know carnally any woman, that then all and singu-
lar persons being in any degree of consanguinity
or affinity to the parties so carnally offending shall
be deemed to be within the cases and limits of the
said prohibitions of marriage." We have heard it
insinuated that this peculiar provision was inserted
for the purpose of more effectually annulling
the King's marriage with Anne Boleyn,
on the ground of his criminal intimacy with
a very near relative of that unfortunate per-
sonage previous to their marriage. Best to
leave to those who are learned in the scandals of
that age to determine whether the alleged liaison
between King Henry and Mary Bullen, the sister
of Anne, before the marriage of the latter,
really existed, or whether it was a malignant
calumny invented by the Papists. It was of course
no part of the duty of the Court of Divercete
Ainet-
quire into the circumstances under which the
of Parliament in question was passed. The only
point it had to determine was, whether or not the
peculiar prohibition which it contained, and which
we have already quoted, was still in force. It
became necessary to determine this from the fact
that a divorce was sought for on the ground that
the petitioner, previous to his marriage, had
cohabited with his wife's mother. We understand
that applications of a similar kind were forthwith
to be made in the event of the success of this novel
suit. It is very remarkable, as the Judge Ordinary
observed, that the question had never been raised
before ; and this circumstance no doubt had its
proper weight with the Court in inducing it finally
to reject the prayer of the petitioner. But the
time which elapsed between the argument and the
judgment, and the cautious terms in which the
judgment itself was pronounced, seem to show that
the matter was involved in no little doubt and
difficulty. The Judge Ordinary, in concluding,
truly remarked that the absence of any previous
application of a similar kind was strong evidence
as to the general opinion as to what was the state
ot the law upon the subject. " But," he added,
" even supposing the question to be doubtful, they_o
should not think themselves justified in putting
three f
the first time upon a statute passed above
expose
centuries ago such a construction as weuld
would be
alle-
gations the truth or falsehood of which
uncertain
the
difficult to prove, and so rendering
marriages to the peril of impeachment
it would
eE the issue of
status of many persons, oupP 8.
been lawfully married, and renderingbastardised upon an
such marriages liable to b
ea
the marriage, might
objection which, at the timee
h them to have
be wholly unknown teas P
ion in question, was o the case we shall not
Into the legal merits
that the act of Henry, which
enter. Suffice it to
subsequent act of Phil
ip and
re-
pealed in
real question was whether or not ;t
Mary, and the
d by a still later act fE•
Elizabeth.
had been
revive to be said •
contains thtoetopehcyuliaarsyPurbosvise.
A great deal wasin favour of this view
thei
of
caj much, indeed, that the Court has
by no means expressed. itself •
decided terms upon
r
questioneeitt.
could
us o
mht tadly have come to any
the absence of any positive
other conclusion than it did. To have admitted
the claim of the petitioner in Wing v. Taylor,
on the ground that the statute of Henry was
decision
hesubject.
ounb
still in force, would have been in effect to raise
an endless variety of questions affecting
alike the rights of persons and of Property, and
leading to investigations in the mstory of families,
both recent and remote, ,f cue most painful des-
cription. Justice and morality alike forbid that
such fertile sovvo,s of dissension should have been
opened after the lapse of upwards of three
lytmared years. Meanwhile we trust that some of
our law reformers wilt take the matter up. Let a
short declaratory Act be passed, setting the matter
at rest for ever. Questions of such immense im-
portance to the peace of society ought no longer
to be left in a state of uncertainty. Now that they
have been raised they ought to be definitively
settled. Lord Lyndhurst's Act, passed in the
year 1835. disposed of all questions touching the
affinity of married persons down to that time.
Let another Act of a similar kind be passed now
which shall effectually prevent in future all such
applications as that which has just been. rejected
by the Court of Diyoree.--Merning rest-

IMPERIAL PARLIAMENT.

, _ -et-

HOUSE OF LORDS.—(YESTERDAY.)
The LORD CHANCELLOR took his seat on the woolsack
at 5 o'clock.
THE DEATH OF COUNT CAVOIJR.
The Marquis of CLANRICARDE, seeing the noble
lord the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, begged to
ask whether the Foreign-office had received any in
telligence confirming the report that had appeared
in the public newspapers, announcing the death
of Count Cavour. He was sure that if the me-
lancholy
event had occurred, it R ould be a calamity
not only to the country with which he was connected,,but
to the whole world.
Lord WODE HOUSE said he regretted the news was too
true. Her Majesty's Government had received a tele-
graphic despatch from Turin announcing that Count Cavour
died that morning at seven o'clock. He would not at that
time attempt to debate upon the merits of that great man,
because he felt that history would do full justice to his
character as a patriot and a statesman. It was indeed a
melancholy event to have occurred in the state of affairs
that existed in Italy.
Lord BROUGHAM also deplored the loss of Count
Cavour. No man could doubt his great skill and patriotism
in all things connected with Italy. (Hear, hear.)
The Earl of MALMESBURY said he had given way to
the nobile lord, but as one who had been intimately connec-
ted by the nature of the office he had had the honour to
fill, no one could feel more sincerely the loss of that great
man than he did at the present position of affairs.
The Marquis of BATH also expressed his regret at the
melancholy event.

PRIVATE BUSINESS.
The Frosterley and Stanhope Railway ; Llandaff and
Canton District Markets; North Eastern Railway (Exten-
sion to Otley) ; Cockermouth, Keswick, and Penrith Rail-
way ; Downpatrick and Newry Railway ; Stockton, Tim-
perley, and Altrincham Junction Railway ; Alton,
Alresford, and Winchester Railway ; Southampton and
Netley Railway; Ludlow and Cleo Hill Railway;
Cork and Youghal Railway; Inverness and Perth Junc-
tion Railway bills were read a second time.
The Bishops Castle Railway Bill was read a third time
and passed.
RAILWAY COMPANIES MORTGAGE TRANSFER
BILL.
Lord KINNAIRD moved the second reading of this
bill. The bill would affurd an easy mode of transfer of the
property to which it related, and the only parties he
thought that would object to it were the lawyers and
brokers in Scotland. The bill sought not to make any new
enactments, but only to carry out what had been thought
to be desirable, and what was already the law of the land.
Lord REDESDALE did not approve of the bill. It
would occasion a great loss of revenue on the one hand,
and was objected to strongly by other parties, therefore he
should move that it be read a second time that day six
months.
On the LORD CHANCELLOR putting the question,
Lord REDESDALE said as it appeared to be the deter-
mination of Government to support the bill, he should not
persist with his motion. He had thought it his duty to
draw the attention of the Government to the subject, and,
as they had not objected, he should not proceed further in
the matter.
The bill was then read a second time.
REFORMATORY SCHOOLS (SCOTLAND) BILL.
Lord KINNAIRD moved the second reading of this bill. '
The Earl of CAMPERDOWN moved, as an amend-
ment, that the bill be read a second time that day six

months.
The Earl of EGLINTON stated his grounds of objection
to the measure.
The Duke of ARGYLL would vote for the bill, because
he did not think its provisions for benefitting Reformatory
Schools were in any way open to objection.
After some further discussion, in the course of which the
Duke of BITCCLEUCII and other noble lords opposed the
bill, their lordships divided, when the motion for the second
reading was negatived by a majority of 49 to 16.
The bill was consequently lost.
The Consolidated Fund (£10,000,000) Bill was read a
third time, after which their lordships adjourned.

HOUSE OF COMMONS.—YESTERDAY.
The SPEAKER took the chair at four o'clock.
PRIVATE BUSINESS.
The Kingstown Water Bill was read a third time and
passed.