The New-York Tribune Newspaper, November 27, 1866, Page 1

PO, VoL XXV1 NEW-YORK, TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1866. eastward on Tuesday, and made the miles of mulberry and grape ring past him. You have heard of railwayy burdened with troops; and, indeed, this same railway had its complement of infantry and cannon, steamed but three months ago toward Custozza, steamed back again with bleeding people, and at last steamed for- ward and northward with the sky-blue Austrian, the last of his clan, smoking his meerschaum in contented dishonor, and as ready, to-morrow, to settle here anew, without a shadow of pretext. But the ecast- ward trains through Lombardy on Tuesday were the greatest pleasure-trains I have ever known. We had none such during our war, neither en route to Wash- ington to see Meade and Sherman enter, nor en route to New-York to the Crystal Palace, nor even to Chicago to the great political Convention. Over this Milan and Venice Ruilway, between Saturday and ‘Wednesday, a full train passed every hour; and the depot at Venice, the switch at Mestra, is now a league of cars; half the rolling stock of Ttaly is gathered upon the banks of the lagoon. There are, without doubt, balf a million people in this cramped city to-day. To-night, they rest in tiers, loiter on bridges, lie upon the Piazzas and Campis, make hotel- keeping & lnxury and a slavery together, and every private house in Venice has gathered them in as he who n)ade the wedding compelled the folks of hedges and highways to share his bospitality. If there is any particular advautage in being & monarch, it is to receive the warm applause of one's subjects, as the King got it over all this marvelons highway. At all the stations he was cheered by all the p«?fle who lived near enovgh by to walk to the railroad in a half-day. He depopu- lated, or rather concentrated upon one line, a belt of humanity 30 miles in breadth. = At Milan the splendid city of the Lombards gave him a welcome great enongh to shake Saint Carlo Borromeo out of his grave; at Bergamo and Brescia the white-walled hills were thunderous with cannon, and every spur of the Alps poured down the mountaineers to bless him. The people themselves climbed into all the church towers, clanging hospitality and love. But when he entered the Quadrilateral, the King’s mind was set on other than the people. This was the scene of his 18 years' struggle; the monarch was a soldier for the instant. He was seated, most of the way, beside the Count Solar de Ja Marguerite, the Minister of State of Carlo Alberto, his father. Tbis venerable old man had been a counselor in those early Piedmontese Cabinets, wherein the espousing of the Italian cause was broached, and the war against Austria resolved upon. He had shared all the enthusiasm of the early battles in Lombardy, and seen Victor Emanuel, a sworded stripling, go forth from Turin at the head of his divi- sion. He, also, had bidden adieu to the ruined sover- eign, after his abdication on the field of battle, and seen him embark for Oporto, ruined in crown and &pirit, to die before the hope of his country had re- vived avew. When these two men, the spirit of the present, the link from the past, paused at Peschiera, and its noisy rejoicing had died away, they drew nearer together at the head of the car, and looked away to the south over the rolling country, On every margin there were people waiting, in all sorts of national cos- tume, waving and cheering; but the King made them no reply. He looked away at the towers of Solferizo and Custozza, in the line of Mantua, and every swell brought to bis mind some mile-stone of struggle. This was his battle scene with Apollyon. Here he had seen victory gained and filched away; here, searcely breathing-time ago, he had stood in the fur- nace of musketry all day long and retired with a beavy heart. The old man, hke the ghost of his father, leaned toward him. The King's dark mus- tached face grew swarthier. None knew but where they pointed, and there was a quictness of dee sentiment in the train. Out of this recollection they broke upon the roaring multitude of Verona, where L.l:{ dismonnted. Its acres of fortifications, its deep stagnant ditches, the half dry basin of the Adige cutting the town in two, the desolate barracks, the blackness everywhere of bondage and desertion—save where the tri-color langhed at the peak of its red and the people in the streets were nosegays of beautifulness —these lay together, strange contrasts in the King's way, as he bowed to left aud right, and cripple and baby cheered him togetber. Beside the weird foudal arches and battlements of the Place Bra, under the circle of the grave Roman amphitheater, the thon- sands who had looked in deadly hatred a fort- night before at the lnglnge Austrians, gave hima happy hospitality, and the beautifal landscapes, high up on the mountain spurs—where the anciont walls climbed, like the Gauls scaling the capital—were bright as the future that seemed to lie warmly along them. These wondrous piles of savage strength— tower, machiolation, triple gate, grim arch, reverend theater—had seen many triumphs shake their mosses down; but none so earnest and universal as this. To achieve it the Quadrilateral, reaching before the Cil{ of Mantua, had become one great cemetery, rich wit dend men. So long ss Verona shall be subject to Italy no battle will pass within her children’s vision again.. The Quadrilateral is useless to its own people, strong for strangers only. The rest of the King's ride was like a May-day honor. He flashed under the tri- umphal arch of Mestra, passed the lagoon, and came to, with & great bray of cannon, on the brink of the Grand EUROPE. NEWS BY THE A?LANTIC CABLE TO NOV. 26, —— BY TELHGRAPE 70 THE TRIBONE. GREAT BRITAIN. YHK ALABAMA CASE RE-OPENED—MR. SEWARD DE- MANDS THE SETTLEMENT OF THE CLAIMS FOR DAM- AGES. Loxpox, Monday, Nov. 26, 1664 A letter ie published in The Daily News to-day, stat- ing that the Government has volantarily reopened the case of the privateer Alabama. Mr. Seward, in behalf of the American Government, demanded the scttlement of the claims for damages by that vessel some two months ugo. Loxpos, Monday, Nov. 26, 1666—Noon. THE FENIAN AGITATION—ARMS FOR THE IRISH CON- STABLES. Twelve thousand breech-loading rifles are to be sent by the British Government to Ireland for the use of the constables, Arrests of Feniaus continue to be made in Ireland, and the troops are vigilant. Further arrests of suspected Fenians have been made in Ireland. The national troops are ready to move at 4 moment’s warning. THE NICARAGUA ROUTE. A prospectus has been published giving the plans for the proposed Nicaragua route. The Times thinks it would be well if the entire scheme were divided be- tween the Governments of England, France and the United States. — PRUSSIA. CONSUL GENERAL POR NEW-YORK CITY. Benwry, Monday, No 1666, ‘The Prussian Government intends to have a Consul Qeneral located in the City of New-York. —— FRANCE. DISCOVERY OF A REPUBLICAN ORGANIZATION. Loxpoy, Monday, Nov. 26.—Evening It is rumored that a Republican organization bas been discovered in Paris. THE EMPRESS AND THE PRINCE IMPERIAL. 1t is said that the Empress Engene and her son will spend Christnas at Rome. TURKEY. MORE FIGHTING IN CANDIA—DEFEAT OF THE TURKS. Lovvos, Monday, Nev. 26, 1866, There has been renewed fighting in Candia, It is said that the Turks have been badly beaten, and have suffered greatly—no less than 3,000 having been killed and 2,000 eaken prisoners. il R MARINE INTELLIGENCE. L0SS OF THE BARK ALICE GREY. Livenroor, Nov. 36, 1866—Noon. The bark Alice Grey, from Bangor, Maive, has been Jost st sea. The mate was drowned, but the rest of the erew are safe. ARRIVAL OUT. QuEETsTOWN, Nov. %.—The Ancbor Line Company's Steam- abip Caledonia, which sailed from New-York Nov. 10, touched Dere this morning en route to Liverrool. 2 Qs KD FINANCIAL AND COMMERCIAL. LIVERPOOL COTTON MARKET. Laverroor, Nov. %—noon.—The Cotton market opens guiet snd steady. Middling Uplands are quoted &t 14jd. The sales to-day will probably reach 10,000 bales. LiverrooL, Nov. 2—evening—The Cotton market s with- out change. Breadstafis unchanged. Lard is dull. LONDON MONEY MARKET. Loxpoy, Nov. 2.—The money market opened quiet. Consols @ for money. American Seeurities opened at the following rates : U. 8. Fivetwenties, 701; Eries, 48} ; Ylinols Centrels, k8 Loxpoy, Nov. %—Evening.—The money market is easier. Consols closed at #9] for money. American Seeurities closed st the following rates : United States Five twenties, 703; Erie Sbares, 473; Lllinois Central Shares, 773. AMERICAN SECURITIES AT LONDON. Loxpos, Nov. %.—There is o firmer tone observable in the market for United States ive-twenty bonds this moruing, and Dusiness bas been done for cash at both 70§ and 71, the latter quotation being the one now current. The American railways are lower in Tllinois Central—quota- tions being marked off one per cent Erie shares are steady at Saturday’s rates, though some authorities say they are freely LIVERPOOL PROVISION MARKET. LivERPOOL, Nov, 2.~ Evening.—Provisions—The market i ool geverally quiet. Lard closes dull and beavy. Fhp o il gnietiag THE ANTWERP PETROLEUM MAREET. He st B ; e - re the glory of Venice came forth to meet him. Loxpos, Satarday, Nov. 9. 1606. | ¢ the re».nfl of the Plebiscite, if perfect agreement had not prevailed before, perfect contentment and gentleness followed. All were resolved to so deal with the King that he should have no reason to re- member any greater moment in his lifo than their hopeful reception of bim. Therefore, when he step- ped upon the gusy, & grand arch rose over him, flow- ers wreathed, capped his crown, bearing the hu- man, liviog effigy of Venice as & Sea Queen, altired in bridal robes, n-u‘hiu%down to him ber hand, with the ring clasped in it wherewith she used to wed the A telegram from Antwerp of this day's date reports the mar et for Petroleum insctive at 58 @3€}f. per 100 kilos, showing a decline since last report of 1a2(. e A LONG AND EXPENSIVE CABLE DISPATCH. ‘The longest dispatch transmitted over the Atlautic Telegraph Cable wae sent on Saturday, by a Government official of the United States, to one of the Ministers of this country on the Continent of Europe. It contained over fire Sopmal vuree. 4 Adriaii; bebind her g trin of waiting ladies aud sea- nymphs lingered, aud the motto sf f FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE. “ Welcome to our elected King, Vietor Emanuel ' The pillars of the arch were inscribed with the pames of the heroes of the war of independence, and the battles they bad fought, The railway platform shelved down to the canal, where the splendid gon- dolas were waiting, and as the King received the wel- come of the Podesta here, every bhousetop and win- dow and foot of standing room supported soine human being waving the tri-color, whether in flag or hand- kerchief, and the multitude of them making loud vivas. The day was bright on city and caval. The King, with asort of bluff stolidity, looked steadil iuto the Podesta's face; he bowed with Erue gracl- ousnese to balcony and barge, and behind bim came the bray of drums, borne by the National Guards, whose close rauks made an aisle of citizen gray, lipgfll with crimson. The space was very contracted, but to counteract the narrowness of the land, the canal wae deep with gondolas, all of them having their canopies withdrawn, and holding in the naked shells thrice their usual complements. The whole surface of the water, even to far recesses under the shadows of strange churches and tenements, was an expectant bumanity, outstretching hands, They crowded the iron bridge before the fiep«u, 0 that none dared pass; they climbed upon the flying buttresses of an opposite church; a tall scaffold, near by, was one great framework of boys and m some roofs and palaces afforded procarious foothold for those adventurous even to death. Yet no episode of blood occurred; as down the stone quays the guards beat vociferous drums, and the King, uncov- ered, in the midst of his cabinet and the royal house- hold, followed by the Embassadors of almost every civilized State, = walked courteously down the margin to the Royal barge. This was constructed npon the aniended model of the famous Bucentaur, wherein the Doges went golemnly to wed Venice to the Adriatic. It was a grand gondola, pro- | pelied by 12 rowers, dressed in straight nautical hats, | wearing erimson sashes, slippered, in blue trousers, and at their throats the tri-colored tie, pinned with the royal crown. They bad been selected with refer- ence to their power and facility of stroke, all tall THE KING IN VENICE. BEETCH OF THE GREAT CARNIVAL OF INDEPENDENCE. From Our Special Correspondest. Vexice, Nov. 7, 1866, The first letter ] wrote you gave tbe story of the Austrians quitting Venice; afterward I described the Venetian officials notifying the King in Turin that be had been selected to rule over them. To-day, very weary with hearing and sight-seeing, I am to try to tell you how the King entered the city. You must divest yourself of the notion that the King is anything more in carriage and stature than Judge Bates, your militia colonel, or Squire Wilkine, wour Con, man, who grows very polite to rou be- ro elections. A loud awakening of nobodies oc- curred in Europe some 70 years ago, since which time the most familiar idea of & monarch is to bs conveyed by s man with s smile tied round bis face and & sword awkwardly concealed at bis bip, who begs you to look scross at & certain scoundrel, your neighbor, and icks your pocket of taxes while you are doing so. g'he kings used to be born, lose all their souls and half their bodies before wearing & crown, and nuietly decres the misery of mankind, whose bedies nnd souls they had inberited in fee simple. A debased class of sensualists they were, rosvping om Dust to prayer with servile facility; aud only now and then some barbaric stature rose among them like a useloss pyramid upon a fruitless desert. When the mob got them to their heels or knees, they purchased and begged the way back to what was called ** con- stitutional mouarcny,” the history of which has been a lcague of kings, debasing the manliness of men to fawn upon them, and giving nothing to the poo‘ils but promises, save upon terrible compulsion. To peither of these classes does Victor Emanuel belong, but he is yet in the likeness of ordinary mortals, and to my knowledge, does not go to breakfast, as some :hl.dwuu:]nn in lndillu: imagine, with a crown on_his ead and a scepter like a rolling-; i . Yo - s " will see this gal:nleman, when \!ul\)umollx:)g"b’;::l.d wfn‘f Venetians, of better class than the hack gondoliers, ng just such & frock coat and tile as you g0 to business | and when they stood to their oars the genius and dis- with; but as he has, of late years, had a great deal of | cipline of musele was manifest. No swan on the bard fighting to do and more military organization to | Wa%T guided herself more gracefully, nor put more eccomplish, he most often puts ou the half-uniform | unconscions wer into Ler stroke. of an officer, and takes to review or to battle in it. The gondola itself was the most gorgeous craft that $lo does not eat off gold plates, throw silver for boys | ever ssiled tho lagoon. Forty feet in length, per- to scramble after, nor have anybody bowstringed to re- | D8P& built high vet light, flat bottomed, high at the lieve his neuralgia. He is neither an extraordinary | PO‘I. whereat a canopy of tricolor velvet, looped with nor a blameless m: Newspapers abuse hinm semi- | €old, covered & throne, supported by couchant lions respectfully; on holidays he is cheered. His popu- and horses, wondrously carved. Aronnd it were larity, at present, is derived from the fact taat he is | Similar chairs for the Royal Princes. Here the King, more like common people than any King of his age, | With quiet grace, seated bimsell. His family crown If you can imagine Mr. Lincoln coming up Broadw made the peak of the canopy, plated with frosted gold in s barouche or on foot, after having wou back and set with precions pear)s and brilliants. The oars snd the country, you will very nearly see Victor | Were washed with silver; the oar-locks were ringed Emanuel descending from the express train which | With gold; at the heaked prow, built h:sh and menac- brought him to Venice. ing,the lion of St. Mark, with fore-paws advanced, wings \ THE KING EN ROUTE. spread for flight, bard on its baunches, and tail and With the iron-crown set in a case for folks to gape | IMane raging to the wn‘nd, held desperately inits jaws at, and Turin half deserted behind him by the thou- the crown of Italy, The whole gondola was a living, sands who meaat to witness his eutry into Venice, the | carnivorousthing, hfihlaud savage, in perfect taste, yet Kipg gud bis eabingt gud stafl took a special train | O TiChue nopargliied; agd pgbind it camg ibe Cabinet, the provisional and permanent Mayors of Venice, the Royal bousehold, the Generals of the army and the naval heroes, the Embassadors, and the distinguished representatives of sister citics, It took balf an hour to arrange them, the whole landsca ringing vivas meantime, and when they started, to blowing of trumpets, a gun boomed from the iron bridge. It was answered by a score of responsive cannons in every part of Venice, Then the great brass band played the Marcia Reale, or Royal March, and the cortege kept down the Grand Canal. PANORAMA OF THE GRAND CANAL. Now the long line of palaces on either side begins to drift past. The railway station is almost at the western eud of the Grand Canal, and between it and Baint Mark there are 150 palaces arranged on the water's edge, their great carved portals hardly above the line of the tide; and at no place is the width of the Canal greater than 200 feet, its length between the points specified being 24 miles. For this distance every palace showed flowers and colors, mottoes and characterizations. Venice bas been called the most Gotbie city which existe, ond the original variety of the Gothic is to be studied here in every civil and domestic development, The only building in New- York to remiud you of these palaces is the new Academy of Design on Fourth-ave. From this you can glean some notion of the tessclated marbles that make the fronts of these palaces, the tall, slim windows that open in them, the window in the cen- ter through every story, being #ix or ten of these tall windows interlaced, and under each of these central windows & balcony, in architecture to mateh, looks down upon the Canal. Every palace is roofed with red tiles; many are pinnacled and checkered with statues; some seem to be bodily upheld by great sea- green caryatides, whose knees are in the sea; before all of them huge painted barbers’ poles are driven, whereto to secure gondolas, as well as to break the force of their concussion against the palaces. Here and there along the Grand Canal a strip of sidewalk reaches a rod or two; but most of the houses rice boldly from the brine, and on the Grand Canal there are many buildings that are very far from ranking as palaces, Here, therefore, beside the King, is the noble Lom- bard pile of the Palace Calergi, filled with splendid canvases, and inhabited by that Duchess De Berri whose busband was ¢lain at the opera in Paris, and who, herself, to secure the throne for his son, invaded La Vendee. She was overtaken on the way, being detained beyond ber expectations, by the birth of an illegitimate child, and straightway her heroism turned to scandal. Some domestics throw out a flag from its balconies. Close by is the palace Fondaco de Turchi, where Venice nsed to give hospitality to Turkish merchants, and, straugely, there are turbans bowing from its windows, It is o good omen for the trade of Venice, and all the people cheer. From the golden railings of the Ca d'Oro, or Golden House, the scores of elegant seulptures, with carved casques_interposed, and blended styles of rustic, dimmond, composite and lonic, have grown to beauti- ful women, who scatter flowers on the royal bary and yonder where dwelt Catherine Cornaro, t widowed queen of Cyprus. She stands in counter- feit, sad among her maids, with the tri-color at her girdle, Hard by, on the superb transition architec- tures of the Palace Morosini, checkered with in- l'lfl'lfil of the Arabic Byzantine, there stands an elderly noblewoman, in antique garb, white-haired, ber faded tresses very plentiful and bound with tri- color cockades. She throws a kiss from the lips which & duke has kissed down to the royal gondola, and he rises to return it. Now he comes in sight of the strong, strange bridge of Rialto, bwlt of Istrian stone. 90 years after the dis- covery of America. Itis s rand triumpbal arch to- day, its stomes of silver grown crimson and emerald with the rhadows of flags. The avgels in its spandrils carry the jubilant motto of life to the Kin, snd Italy. T central arch is like au urm ol flowers; its shops are huug with evergreens; virging in white along its Hamnl, strewing orange blorsoms down, represent all the cities of the Peninsula, with Venice over the keystone, crowned with tri-colors, and at her right hand, with shackles at her wrists, leading tothe King, is Rome. At thesight of this there s & toss of bhands and banners; the music makes the loud Garibaldi bymn; every soldier stands upright, uncovered, with his hand at his sword-hilt, and the pon'xrle ot windows, on the broad quays, at the Nau- sovinian balustrades, ery like the scream of eagles, “Vica Roma ' Out of the quarter of the arcient merchants, from the porticoes of Saint Jacob, where Shylock was buffeted for taking usury, re-n strange old men, wild-haired with poverty, the glossy curls of Jessicas, children in scarlet scarfs and green gaiters; they all see the shackled efigy of Rome, and reach their pale or trembling palms in‘o the noon, saying: “Long live the King of Italy and Rome!" The great banner over the apex of the Rialto languishes; the King bows and shoots the solitary arch! ‘The group of omnibus gondolas forever standing at the piers of the bridge are all in glorions nfnli- to- day. Their gondoliers shout like gunners in naval battle. Then the Palace of Manin, the lost Doge of the Republic, he who fainted when Bonaparte sur- rendered Venice to the Austrians, comes close by, hidden, save its splendid balconies, with flowers and mottoes, Out of the Palace Loredan, where E! Piscopia made sublimest philosophy the love of wo hite figure flings & single white rose and t! it to his button. Now over the Coccina floats the Prussian_eagle, to which the '3 and soldiers bow ; and at the Palace Benzoni, where Madame Benzoni gave recherche intellectual feasts, there comes @ breeze that shows beneath the beautiful colors & company as cheerful and beautiful. Next door the home of Taglioni, the renowned danseuse, and it is quite given ur i to elderly ladies, who look their souvenirs of yout upon the passing pageant, waving handkerchiels the Imle. Opposite 1s the Palace Barbarigo delln Ter- razza, where the venerable Titian lived, and his bearded portrait looks satisfaction down from its superb facade; he lived nearly 100 years, requiring the plague to take him off at last; but how would he have thrilled to see this glad regeneration of the city wade a school by his genius? Bee, now, the Palace Pisani, named for that famous Admiral who came from his dungeon to lead his upgrateful towns- men to victory, where long the noblest works of Paul Veronese made perpetual revelry of its deserted hall. The lion of St. Mark, with jaws wide open, growls up the Grand Caoal, from its splendid_portal. Cheers and ribbons fall from the Palace Mocenigo, where Byron lived with his terma- gaut mistress, Margarita Cogni, a baker's wife, aud wrote the early part of Don Juan to her inspiration, with Marino Faliero and the Two Foscari. Here, bard by, the Foscari palace, also, where many monarchs have resided, placed to command two arms of the Grand Canal, long the home of the Stuarts of Venice, its beirs broken and bauished, its paintivgs sold and dispersed, tortures inflicted upon its patrons, and those who remain, poor as winter. Yet they, with their towns people, greet the King, hopeful of comfort and justice to ensue, £o the royal procession glides down the green cur- rent, passing the Palace of the Duchess of Parma, Napoleon Bonaparte’s widow, who married her cham- hu?noln for the purposes related of Hamlet's mother, and made ber memory (ot by her choice, but by her heartlessnoss) less than a wanton's; past the American flag, waving trom the window of the American Consul in the Palace Giustiniani—at which King and officers rise to bow, for our Republic, by its glorious example, is & wonder to kings aud & hope to peoples, and no- where more beloved tban here in the Republic of the Adriatic. Shooting the Ponte Nuovo, built by an Englishman, to get tolls at the expense of the beauty of the Canal, we see the decorated palace of the luxu- rious Austrian Esterhazy, now run away with his countrymen; and, nm-hxng the Dogana, see in full view the Viazetta of St. Mark. THE LION OF SAINT MARK ROARS TO THR KING. At this spot Lhe_}lory of the mariue view reacbed its chiefest beauty. To the King's right, gliding east- ward, was the Church of Bauta Maria Della Salute, gray and gold in the uoon, & double dome, bigh and huge, and running iuto the long dogama or custom- house, where, at the point of the cape, a globe of gold upheld by two atlases sustains a gigantic bronze vane of Fortune. Beyond this dogaus, cut sharp as & fortress, granite, Inassive, rose at some distance, on & separate island, the Church and Campanile of 8t George the Great. They weremirages, almost, in the soft atmosphere of the lagoon, Iying against the horizon like impalpable bues, the dream of an archi- tect, lifted stecply from the sea. Between them and bimself, in front, nlon% the crowded mole, in the great n harbor where Lis men-of-war lay at anchor, Victor Emanuel saw upon every wave & Nymph or a Triton. The waters were filled with fes- tivel boats, searcely less beautiful upon the light swell of the lagoon than seemed to those who filled them his trinmphal barges, rounding the bow of the Canal. The flag his father had borne to expected defeat waved across the frec and the impeded horizons. Every bywau sou) was standing up, uncovered in the | it has been excelled since the Southern eun, bidding him welcome. In the spars and rigging of ships there were men with glasses searching bis face. On the water, darkly checkered, there were all melting hues that air and light produce, delicate as the veins in maiden's temples, soft like the lance of hazel eyes, warmed in rare spots to burin foci, whenee the south seemed to radiate flame; coo under the thadows of Campaniles, a8 if soothed by the quictness of bells. To the left, place of all places to #nit a king or a poet, the prumi leau of Baint Mark burst upon the blue lagoen—tbe noblest collection of architectures, that ever descended to the slope of_ the rea! Two granite shafts, rising from s marble piazetta, whose flanks are set with noble facades, litt iuto the clearer day, the one a flying, fighting lion, the other @ Saint driving a naked lance into a crocodile. In the oblique face of these stands the Ducal Palace, & woven thing of tesselated marble, so versatile in dl" and design that its enormons weisht Jies like a zephyr garment upon two rows of florid arches, gold and snow and mold. Its balustrade of softened pinnacles, its donble balcony—one only looking to the land, ove to the sea—its humid tints, making it seem to be an exhalation, lie softer nst the darker foreground of the Ancient Library, wi open doors reveal the tor- tures of cronching giants straining in stone under their mighty burden, The r’;inl barges glide to the foot of the piazetta steps. e King, dismounting, sees before him, be- tween Palace and Library, the transept of Saint Mark, Atonce all the cannon bellow; a mighty multitude that no man can number shout vociferous welcome; all the men-of r fire broadsides; the gon- falone before Saint Mark are dipped. He sees, from his niche among the National Guards, the piazetta, and the piazza into which it opens, a monstrous density of people, #o close that they are like the stones of the pavement, sprung up to welcome him. ‘The Marquis of Breme, Prefect of the palace, meets the King. He shows him to the multitnde. The vicas are the very hearts of men, speaking all good fame and bospitality. At this moment the stranger, looking from the immensity of the pe:rla to the face of the King, noticed a strangely cnrious glance ewit from him, as he took one quiet survey, with uncovered head, of the dense population collécted on this historic spot, to ive him such welcome as no Doge nor Admiral ever ad before, This scene and city, for which be bad contended eighteen bloody years, he bad never looked upon be- fore, at least not since early youth, when he might have paid it an incognito visit; but even of this there is no record. In 1849, during the insurrection, it was thought the Duke of S8avoy had penetrated to Venice. If 80, his dream of the P!un i San Marco was at best o pitful one. To day it his, given freely to him, ‘They lead bim forward to a nearer prospect. THE CNURCH RECEIVING HER RXCOMMUNICATED SON. Upon the square of 8t. Mark, opening out of the piazetta, occurred one of those anomslous episodes which it was difficult for mo to comprebend. t the Podesta, the Head of the National Guard, the oldest Republican, nor yet the most ancient sufferer from lA‘_;ulvinn despotism, stepped forward to welcome the ng. He whose arms wero reached wide open for the monarch’s embrace was the elder Arehbishop of Ven- ice, the principal Cardinal, Monsieur, Mr. or Signore Giuseppe Luigi, or Father Joseph Lewis, directly ap- inted by the Pope,who bad excommunicated Vietor Emanuel, and for the reason that he had rendered great services to the Austrians. The personality of this remarkable ccclesiastic was very striking; be was @ patriarch in years as well as in name. Long white beard reached to his middle; in his face resignation and fire contended together; ho wae tall and power- fal; his greeting was so close to feeling in expression, that one could bardly doubt its sincerity. ;el. this ecclesinstic, if one’s record be any measure of his frinr.ple. had fought against the unity of Venice with tal; with all the injudic fzroui:{ of his class, He bad oade the Archiepiscopal residence a place for Ausirian conferences; had personally preached against the coming of what be called the Piedmontese; had refused to display the tri-color when the patriots en- tercd; t was said that he had forwarded to Vi- eni & the purse of Saint Mark, and had used the secrets of ‘he confessional to prejudice the popular cause! H: secession to the King's Interest shows either & busé diplomacy or @ resolve to secede from the posi- tioh of the Pontiff. With outstretched arms this ven- erable persan, who had denounced the unity of Italy, bl Victor Emanuel, the excommunicated King, on the great public square ! - Strange to say, not a voice responded in a cheer. Derisive laughter attended the raising of his hand. A few old women kneeled upon the pavement; the men stood bolt npright, seornfully or curiously, and directly there was & shout of: iva Vittorore Emanuele! Viva Garibaldi! Viva Italia!” As with one fi!lnlic impulse all the people, 50,000 in number, with & roar that made campanile, palace and cathedral tremble, answered vviva!" Still the Patriareh, calm as frost, with extended arms, kept his place before the King. The latter bowed, but did not bend. He was a smaller man than the priest, aud by far the lesser and more ordinary figure. His military dress shining in_the noon, bhis head uncovered, his stern, almost grim face, searching tbe marble pavement; the wilderness of tri-colors, all bearing his yellow crown, shading his epaulettes; the wonderful mnultitade paused as if breathless, deeply packed on baleony, tower, roof, and threshold; these made & scene aimost feudal to me, like victorious Venice of old when her Admirals came home with spoils. It was so grand in its suggestiveness that, for awhile, the dead silence was like a slecping ubiguity on man and water and flag. The fiercest Jacobins were amused in it, if no more; the weak-hearted paled an instant; some aged people crossed themselves, Then a voice from the foot of the great granite column of 8t. George came like a blast of discord over all: A bas [ Eglise " For a second there was a wavering confasion, & suppressed babble as of a million tongues in quick con- ference; thep, like the tumbling down of the city, the sinking of its piles, the swallowing of its waters, a yell of hoarse, unbelieving, scornful rago repeated : “Viva Italia, Vittore Emanuele, Garibaldi!” It was the fiercest cry 1 ever heard; the travailing in- dignation of & cheatod patriotism, an expired credul- ity, & wounded prayer, an unreturned love. ‘A bas Pio Nino'” and all the throats, with hands and clang, and musket barrels in them, Eelh’d to this, * 4 | bas!" 1In the pitch of the terror the King's ann was drawn to the Patriarch’s; they walked to the Cathe- dral together. THE KING IN THE CATHEDRAL. 8t. Mark, as the world knows, was the elected patron of the Venitians; !hewunght his relics howe with great pomp from the East, and built for him, upon the model of the Church of 8t. Sophia at Cou- } stantinople, & catbedral in the most elaborate By- rantine architecture. Fine cupolas domincer above within and without it is covered with huge and bea tiful mosaics, many of them nine centuries old, but as fresh in color and as durable as ever, aud they cover, unitedly, 40,000 square feet of surface. Five hundred colemns of rare serpentine porphyry and verd antique support or ornament this structure; the floors, arches aud walls are rlenliful with these precious materials; the cupolas and front are faced with pure gold. The exterior, toward which the King advanced with the ecclesiastic, showed one broad, gilded screen, pierced with mighty arches, aud over the central of these the four bronze horses of St. Mark Jooked down through the tarnish of 2,000 years. Be- bind them a second screen arose, labyrinthine with niches, pinnacles, pediments and statues, and over this again, the domes went afar, capped with bulbous Eastern curolu. No earnestness of description can make visible to you this extraordinary basilica, so overloaded with ornament, come down from an archi- tectural age when we searched for builders close to the grave of Christ, and they hurled upon their structures ull the gorgeous imagery and materials of the East. It is so grotesque, that its andeur s not at first appareut; over its splendid adornments the grayness of age hLas somewhat fallen; but, on this day, young with tri-color robes flung from every pinuacle and angle, crowded above the screen with women's faces aud drapery, every perch in its architecture a human statue, gliuted with an Autumnal southern sun, and crossed with shadows of green and crimson, the ulm-t of it, as the procession entered, was reconcilable in no respect with the century in which we live. Pageant and architecture were of re- motest feudality. It seemed that some great Crugader was coming back from war, carried along on the thun- der of cannon, and bells, and voices, and repairing straightway to the altar in thankfulness for victory. As he diseppeared under the deep portal, o silence al- most devout fell upon the thousands of faces, and directly they heard the Te Dewn bursting the doors and trembling up the great square like the eccape of birds. Iu an instant the people in the open air took up the asure, music bel ntuitive here, and half of Venice followed the t organ and the bands of brass, making gnch praise that T doubt wmy of the Cross | axibune, PRICE FOUR CENTS. v entered Jerusalem. Up the narrow cavals, from house-tops, from shipping in the harbor, the cadences arose, and the d-{ligm was a solemn serenade, where thankfulness and happiness seemed to have improvised the same glorions song out of the perfect accord of half & million. Christ come again could scarce have such a welcome. THE TE DEUM. Within St. Mark’s the scene was softer, darker, stranger. Out of the nave reached golden- groined arches; the 8 were rich in the ceilings, tonched with concentrated light; venerably delicate Daptismal fonts and urns of holy water stood against the rich pillars of black and white porgt.:{ry; the floor was one great surface of mosaics, 8o that you walked with sel -nibrn'ding to crush such sensitive dyes; across the choir, dividing it from nave and transepts, @ screen of marble, with fourteen statues in its archi- trave, lifted the great crucifix, where Christ dies for- ever amid his gorgeous antiquities. Scen through the fissures of the screen, beyond the carved chairs of the choir, set amid prized bas-reliefs and elderly bronzes the high altar of Greek marble, rose into a csn:&y of verd-antique, farnished to-day with the most brilliant {,eoweh in the treasury, and covering with its base the dy of Saint Mark, the Evangelist. The bottom of the church, where the spectators stood, was very dim, the light lying warmest around the ceilings, yet one could see tbe flash of sword-hilts and epaulettes and the shining decorations on the breasts of the re- warded, even the features and eyes of those around the King, a8 they stood, bending, before the altar, all uncovered and still. You cox hear the pace of the soft-footed zriem. the echoes to whispers of prayer that fell abrupt, like kisses against the domes; the murmaur, as of surprise, for a moment, at the weird- ness of the building, into which, most probably, the majority of the King's party had never before enter- ed; and then—so aniversal, with such space to re- sound in, with such sweet energy and inspiration pro- nounced, that it seemed to have neither choristers nor abode—the Te Deum pealed along the aisles and arches, like tuneful thunder loosened. One’s memories of d emotions are apt to err in favor of the latest. 1 should say that this Te Deum was the most wondrons musie I ever heard, ‘xerlup- 1 might be repeating what I have said of other occa- eions, The glorious harmony of & full military band going into action, the serenade on the waters, the camp-meeting hymns in green woods, the d.l.nun.n of opers, sustained by a multitude; these recollections come back to me weaker than ever before, for the lifting up of this Te Deum was like the flight of men’s souls, burst out of them with song. They #tood so listlessly below, the melody was g0 strong and sonorous above, that the repanc of cause and effect made of them, to the mind, automatons merely, like fountain-statues, motion- less, that fling up mighty water-jets. Into the cornet, drum and organ, the human song poured like the cheer of an army into one bugle-blast, and every glad emotion went up to God with the dignity of men whose faith in the end met it with no surprise. It was o song for Calvin to have heard, reconciling, faith and destiny as be only believed it. It was a songto be given by the people of Moses when the Jast wave rolled over their enemies. Calm thankfulness, so calm that out of its good consciousness and self satis- faction it drew power, swelled at last into one mighty climax of praise, tenaciously prolonged, the last com- prehensiveness of gratitude; and then fell absolute quiet upon king, priest and soldier. *EMINENCES ABOUT THE KING. The galaxy of which the King was the the center, grouped nnder these golden dowes, before the blazing altar, was one of the most remarkable that Europe hss ever seen. Of Italians, the Chevalier Edouard de Botta, a true patriotic Venetian, descendant of him who wrote the earliest reliable history of the Ameri- can Revolution, the Cardinal Trevisinato, strong churchman, but not all forgetful of the eh? of his B:uplo and their happiness, moving to the tinkle of 1ls, in wondrous robes, as in the stalwart days when Popes could command Europe to a crusade and Car- dinals bewilder Kings with borrowed thunders; Count Luigi Michieli, the chief of the city when the Anstri- ans had retired, s strong Venetian face, like a D&En'l come down from canvas; the Signor Pellatis, Chief of the National Guard, to whose offices this concord between Bishop and King is due; the new Mayor or Podests, Count Giambatista Justiniani, whose name is that of one of Rome's memorable Em and whose blood is old as the Gospel, a silver-! man, like the aucient admirals, very calm and grave. Commander Techio, an exile from Venice for eighteen years, come back to be at the head of its Court of Ap‘rdn @ face whose look is the sword of justice, and whose hairs are the weavings of wisdom. Ernest Renan, the latest biographer of Christ, a man with little love of what he caunot see, yet seeing even at this Te Deum such wondrous and solemn earnestuess that he looks through half-shut, measuring eyes, with a bo{'a flush upon his cheeks; the Doctor Achillo Kelder, a man endungeoned, menaced with death in his time, but ever plotting and fighting for the better days, now come to him to hi neighbors; the Prince of Carignano, umcle to the King, Lrother to Carlo Alberto, close to whose side all this drama of Italy has been conceived; Gen Prim, of Spain resolved to revolutionize and republic- anize thatpeninsula or dieat the garrotte; the beautiful Princess della Cisterne, dark and glittering with jewels, with a fortune of $2,000,000, the affianced, ‘88 it iy said, of the King's son, Amadeus; Louis Kos- suth, still waiting for Hungary's day, worn and bent, the implacable foe of despotism everywhere, who needed bus a fair show to stand in Hup. gary as thie King stands in homor here; Alexis Bozzaris, the nephew of Mark Bozzaris, the hero of Greece, sung by Halleck to the joy of every schoolboy, a sinewy, small figure, of proud eye and presence; Robert Browning, whose ady’s sonnets and his own bave gone wida.md well, & tolerable Englishman, growing gray; with William Story, onr most ideal sculptor, the friend of Browning, o fair New-England nonalil{; not quite all Anglicieed; the Countess (g:iu'ioll. ut recently made a widow, come to Venice, her uative city, where she was wmaiden and a poet's mistress, fresh in her weeds, but of beautiful old age; the Duchess of Genoa, relic of that grand Savoyard whose battle-ax almost clave victory out of the rout of Novara, and whose daughter, beside ber, is beautiful as a poet’s queen; hereare three journalists; Capt. Hozea, the new military writer for The Times, whose letters are praised beyo d Rus- sell's; * Carlton,” or Mr. Coffin of Boston, one of the naivest s%ecumr! of our Rebellion, and George A. Sula, sketch-writer, of some goodness of borrowed plumage. Closer around the King are his immediate ministers, headed by the anxiously glad face of Rica- soli, seconded by Depretis, the Minister of Marine, with Cogia, the Stanton of the war; Visconti Venos- ta, the Foreign Minister; Jaoini, head of the Publio Works; Cordova, Minister of Agriculture, Industry and Commerce; Scialoja and Berti, beads of bureaux. | These are the men who have made the King a Kinj indoed, and the country more than & geographical mosaie. It was a splendid tableau, wortby to be wainted beside Charles VII at the coronation of heims, or Abraham Lincoln passing up the streets of Richmond. THE TRUR '* MERCHANT OF VENICE.” In this diuph{ the Jong thin beards and bloodless faces of many old soldiers of the First Napoleon were conspicuous, They made strong foatures of the gulhnrinE; but those who looked most at them cheered but little. While the people of France obtain all’gratitude from the Venetians, their ruling family of whom the Old Guard were associates, get no respect in Italy. The barter and sale of Venice was the work of Napoleon Bonaparte, conceived by himself alone in the beginning of his career, without apparent motive, and with the cold-blooded determination which shows that even while a Republican Geveral he was unscru- pulous aud ungrateful. Venice had been the scene of great rejoicing after the Emancipation of Fraoce, which her aristocratic rulers in vain attempted to re- strain into a eslm neutrality. At the approach of the French the people overthrew their Government, hoisted the tri-color, donned the red cap and cockade, and planted the Liberty Tree before the chaureh of 8¢, Mark. Bonaparte made use of their volunteers and vessels against the Austrians, was greatly beloved by them all, but when ke found a chance to treat with Austria on the basis ofprflemnfihe glory of his great campaign, he quietly gave up his ally to the Germans, and condemned Ler to a bondage of 70 years. I have been at pains to scarch out the corres- ondence of Bonaparte on this dark episode. e wrote to Carnot, the French Secretary of W, ' The t'lly nf' Veniee contains, l:h|: |mi'm:)m‘p.l;n"; ; thelr interes ! N ) n«‘;w‘.f-'uffiff P’?.‘.‘l'm‘. :‘n bile. m Jesire of S0y buud: yeds of men is not worth the death of 90,000 Frenchmen. This is proved by all collateral evidence to have been & coarse, ex parte statement to cloak a mean act. Carnot, a sincerc Republican, wrote to Bonaparte on the 20th of September, 1797, in answer: “Itis too evident that if you leave Venice to Austria the latter will have a foot on the Adige routc to the heart of Lombardy. wnd can reach a hand to Naples and Tuseany. The Cisalpive Republic thus surrounded on all sides by this vorn clous power, shall soon become its prev. And this, independent of 1l of abandoutug Veuice, that you believe yourselfso wortiy ron Thus | b s epigam o alospesions il 4 ap-haza am troubled to finfl:'uh caso w he maiched this conjecture of Carnot. The theft and sale of Venice %qm'tflrmo&dlm later miseries of Italy. 18/ never Andktnhyn old Italian soldiers of the nmm,m. i&; here, 'h":f.; ufi? the vindicators of Venice and e reproac the nlpfl"&. ' The scenes afterward uwpirini'h the Cathedral were complimentary merely; the held & reception 1n the fln Pfll’l‘, ad] to the .J at night the called the Vemicc was open, gave superb ballets aud songs; all the theaters repre« sented episodes current to the Camival. At night, while the King was banqueting with the municipality, ;ilrle the #lln holmld bay 'm.;i-‘ghud with s 5. The whole lagoon was every poor reef making & beacon to anewer the rockets of the' city. Thronghout all Italy every village and city, welcomed Venice to the new co racy. The H joy of the people knew no excesses nor any reproaches; all! who had loved them, all who had upbraided them, were' friends of the Carnival. The King was aunounced to’ remain & whole week, and every night should be a' new rise. 1 shall write to you once more upon! the Carnival matters. THE ONE SULLEN SPECTATOR. ‘While Venice is thus a fire at ses, & city of light- houses, a great beacon burning down the i nean, a new Stromboli, with souls for in its working crater, every sister city in Italy into flame to honor her. There are burning at Palermo; Massena is belting her famed Strait with fire; the Bay of Naples is a beach of blaze; hoists the tricolor lamp to sll ber towers and niles; Ravenna, in her remote and vemerable repose, cries vivas for Venice at Dante’s tomb; in Pisa, leaning tower swings to the reverberating cl 5! Rienna's checkered Cathedral fiares in the illamina- tion; every glorious pinnacle at Milan is white in the flash of happy windows; Genos, the crescent off the sea, no longer threatens to bridle the horses of Baint Mark, but wreatbes their counter- feits in laurel; and every city under the Alps becomes & , to make this liberation an equal outburst of humanity and love wherever the soft. lan of the south is & household utterance. One’ of alaxy of great municipalities alone stands dark and sullen among her mountains, There is no streak of light upon her hills. Around her forum there are those who keep watch to murder him who cheers for Venice. Her churches are dumb to the choral song waiting people redeemed and made glad by freedom. Crumbling sternly and unbendingly to ruin, like ber barbaric &zliwnm, Rome, that cannot be Mistress of the World, can at Jeast rail upon it. From under the t dome of St. Peter's, flung over it by m- can arm of Michael Angelo, a strange, & zeproof fell upon Venice fhe day that her poople crowded to the polls, Nota word of all bail for the fulfillment of suffering” years. No earnest of *‘Be happy, Italy, our native land'” But a mad wail aud’ rail, and termagant shout against the deliverers and delivered of “our__denr son in Jesus Christ, Fravcis i 3 o EX s Joseph of Aus \ The scandal of this speech echoes through Europe. 1t is & part of the bistory of Venice delivered. It may make infidels of some; of millions it will make better Catholics, showing them that till the oy ereignty of Rome 18 lngprened. they will neither bave at the head of the Chnrch & wise priest, & good patriot, nor a rational man ! ) To keep as a miser’s inheritance_this particle of the Earth, the Head of the Cburch is compelli Z‘cndenl action and even secession amoug his ’ulld lergy. Tho next political event, due within two weeks,' will be the rising of the Roman m&l: againet the temporal power. On the 17th inst. last Freneh gun, French nag, French standard snd Freochman will quit Civita Vecchia. natics will give some milit Viear of God, but these will have bad both and their reverence well corropted by that time, s it is immblu for any stranger of common heartful- ness to inside the Vatican and outside the of ita subjects without feeling his to the latter, There is in Rowe a silent invieible, ompipotent, whose counsel starts the dead walls without o pal bursts out of the i against Belshazzar. The Pope has e Teepabicass o he” Tmperisl” Oty aus m work withoz;:‘;mdo. anm temporal millenium comes sure apace. within the year, that seven-hilled eity a8 and to lnprlnu as Venice, which wears cious face its new tri-color apparel. Pope has issued two manifestoes, one leveled S reck Church. In the lat espouses the Catholic Clergy in Poland, wh.’.o-nlutu:“-l great monastic estates have been confiscated, bat. ver the political wrongs of the Polish le, Bt wauld b entirely icoptistentin im to boiee, tle-minded i ifiy 2 £ EE? 13 which it would be entirely in A temporal Government so itive, litl and ilmdmlniuemd as that of must make & contem| zummhmmmm:mu- downfall. Venice bebeld her German mercenary guards fade over the line of the Adriatic, the Pope's new enthusiasts, recruited in Savoy, exhibited the tri- color from their garrison in Viterbo. The great Pontiff sent & special envoy to rebuke their command- er, who replied: ““Why! we meant to make the Roman people cheerful.” “Very illtimed cheerfulness,” said the E H « there is nothing in Italy to make the subjeets of Pope happy. Take down the flag and court-martisl mybody'zn cheers it.” <= DENTINY OF NEW VENICE. 3 Heads wag around me, Englishmen’s, particularly,’ when I say, ** What shall Venice become now tbat ber bands are untied ?” Yet there is more for bope than when at the beginning of her race, just eleven centuries before her independence was given away, Venice elected her first and set out upon commercial enterprise that gave ber victory over Turk and Christian. Sbe bas all to expect from tho dismemberment of the Turkish and Austrian desgot- isms, which will be accelerated by the unity of Italy, for even in the present Austria there are two millions Italian le, as Venice herself was first built among the de;n Islands, on the Austrian coast. Tbe affairs of Greece, long attached to Italy. forbade her not remote dexire to be attached to the penineular king- dom she bas generated and adorned. The powcrthat bas the chauce to succeed to the.commerce of nolles is Italy. The boast of Napoleon, that the Mediterranean should become & French lake, is not unlikely to be realized by the people he gave away, 1t there is no coal in the Appenines there is pleaty of it on the opposite mainland. As a self-sustaini I be' country, Italy has few rivals; the maritime | Venice 15 fresh as in its 8j ; when Rome | incorporated, the Italiaus will be the most barmonious | nation in Europe; they have more dignity and de- liberation than the French, and the freedom of their institutiops will attract to them the components of those contingent nations which hate the Austrian and contemn the Turk. Not forthere physical reasons only, Dbut for the spiritual ones that lgtl] more and directly to the liberal man. lieve in the star of Venice. Her charity and brotherly lonm long-suffering, that has not tamed her spirit but plined it; her mnmgl of sham friends and preten- tious superstitions; her -uul;u’onnd resolve to have all that is hers, to conguer it herself, to develop it and intellectualize it; something to me more than this, the personal resemblance her people bear to our own in America, and the commeon part p wo have in the gallant evergy that made tyraomy hiy enemy when s fisherman’s boy, and rose to be the su- rhest biography of the era in which we live. These rise to tell me that Venice has anotber chance and Italy renewing glory. 1 walked, a few nights ago, upon the the Leido, among the graves of the Jews, of Shylock and Antonio came to me as I touched wi my foot the stones of commemoration, and 1 saw Vauice in the early dusk, hauging her lamnps against the suneet. I étood between her—a mile 10 my west —and the Adriatic, plashing against the dike at my faot. The city's songs of rejoicing were so {dw dike of it seemed o deeper silence where I | alone. Here were the tombs of & race without a country; but in their un uerab) unity they bad compelled respect an lmons the peoples of the earth. g 4 d T stiny, kept their blood pure, outlit their W:\ltx;ri:i. t“:}“ shall not er city, with 0] nei P, ish, now that her soil i %J" owD, N{ mi”fl' x& uo wwore! Into the :!ull: at last plunged Campanile and Cathedral, arscnal | and goaumgdfl-g; bat the lights were ft'r‘éyng on | the water; the cnergy of evening Lells drove over the lagoon; the great lighthohde cast an apmful of fire through the slunices of the port, Apd so seemed to see the light, and life qud gloFy etart avew in Venice, | and séok TEY <A Tof it fortaue.