The Sun.
London, England, 1862-05-13 00:00:00

proud. lie neither lowers himself, nor asks for
alms. His grandfather was a soldier in the First
Republic. He has entered as a master the eapi-
tale of Europe, and has seen more than ore° the
backs of Kings. His father was at Austerlitz.
He himself has burnt a cartridge in Africa. He
knows that he is the equal of any one. He has
seen the Revolution of 1830, and that of 1848. He
is a man and a citizen, and if he still wants several
things he knows that he shall have them sooner or
late'r." So that—while M. ASSOLANT begins with a
diatribe of the most uncompromising kind upon
the Englishman—we find, after all, that he
has trailed off here this long while into
a studied panegyric upon the Frenchman.
Did he come to London, one is tempted
to ask, to learn all this the more vividly about his
fellow-countrymen P Ah, yes ! by the sheer force
of contrast. The very crass stupidity and bruta-
lity of the Englishman brings out to this amiable
Frenchman's eyes the charming excellencies he has
left behind him at home. Such tight-fighting
Paris spectacles as he has upon his nose, this genial,
charming, delightful, outspoken M. ASSOLANT !
He sees everything according to the conventional
tint of those glasses.
Does he visit any place of amusement here
in London any place that is to him of so-
called amusement ? "Excepting the great play-
houses," he says, " which I have not yet seen"
[their turn will come next l] they are, he de-
clares emphatically, " miserable !" Oar London
squares he pronounces " sad looking things." Each
individual Englishman, he observes, "dines apart,
shut up in his box at the eatinghouse, like vicious
horses in a stable." Only one thing can he find in all
London and Westminster on which to sprinkle a few
syllables of cool approbation—our parks ! Though
certainly in this regard he could hardly in reason
have written otherwise. "The Luxembourg," he
condescends to remark, "and the Tuilleries do not
approach them. They are vast prairies, where you
see flocks of sheep browsing pell-mell among women
and children, who are lying down in the grass, or
playing on it. In this consists the real superiority
of London, and I must admit that Paris has nothing
like it." With the opening of the Great Interna-
tional Exhibition, on Mayday, however, M. ASSO-
LANT was not by any mews satisfied. Everybody
else, it is true, thought pretty well of the inaugural
ceremonies as a whole, but—ab, me ! after all, there
comes that fatal counter opinion of M. ASSOLANT.
And a bitter disappointment the knowledge of it
must be to the Earl GRANVILLE and the
rest of the responsible committee of Manage-
ment. " Decidedly," writes this egregious
gentleman, " the opening of the Exhibition was
very badly conducted. Such," he adds, "is the
opinion of every one"—meaning himself ! " The
English," he observes axiomatically, " understand
everything except organization. The art of ad-
ministering brought to such perfection among us (a
little too much so)," [innocent admission !] "is abso-
lutely unknown to them. Every one goes on wildly,
lives as he can, works where he can, and spends pro•
digious force with very little result." [Then follows
the proof of this, drawn from his personal experi-
ences.] " Though I was by chance and by my own
exertions one of the best placed for seeing the cor-
tege and the whole ceremony, I hardly heard any
of the music, and the speaking not at all. I did not
even see the speakers. A mass of trophies and
ornaments. very much out of place on such an occa-
sion, concealed from every eye half the gallery.
There remained, it is true, the spectacle of the
assembly, which interested me more than the official
speeches. This is not the way things are done in
Paris, and, in my opinion, we succeed much better.
In Paris, at least, the whole of the spectators can
hear and see the principal personage." And so on.
It will be observed what a delightful tone of national
self-glorification runs throughout this graceful
Frenchman's comments upo-a English scenes, people
and proceedings. Why, even that sad vagabond
of a clerical humourist—the Rev. LAWRENCE
STERNE—went forth upon his Sentimental Journey
in a nobler spirit than this. Immediately he had
landed at Calais, upon the first page of his diary,
he did not thereupon, after the fashion of M.
ASSOLANT, at once set it down that he saw nothing
to compire to himself or to his countrymen. No!
instead of that—why the words are household
words by this time—instead of that, STERNE
scarcely has pen in hand before he writes in a
generous, manly, cosmopolitan spirit upon his very
first page, almost in his first sentence, "They
manage these things better, said I in France." We
have no hope for M. ASSOLANT as a generous
observer of things new and strange to him. lour
months would hardly do better for him than this
first fortnight of his stay in London. He comes
with malice prepense and aforethought, determined
to view everything captiously, carpingly, the
veriest JEAN CRAPAUD of a Curmudgeon ! So soon
as he cares to return to the scenes and haunts
he loves best, let him be off. For, honestly, we have
had quite enough of him.

Mr. BERKELEY, oid stager as ho is, seems to have
been caught napping. If any one's business, it was
his to watch against a surprise in the interest of
electoral corruption. The preceding discussions
were, it is true, on a subject too likely to make
honourable members seek "tired nature's sweet
restorer," even while occupy ing their seats, or to
quit their seats till something more attractive was
before the House. We do not, however, know the
nature of the accident which caused the second
reading of the " Corrupt Practices Protection Bill"
to be read a second time without Mr. BERKELEY'S
cognisance. He did his beat to atone for the mis-
take by giving notice of moving its rejection on its
third reading. An important opportunity has,
however, been lost. It was the duty of the
Liberal members, and there surely are some,
who are really opposed to bribery and intimidation,
and who consider their seats safe, if the people
voted under no influence whatever but their own
political opinions,
and their opinion of the candi-
dates,—it was the duty of such members to have
staved off the second reading of this discreditable
bill, to have compelled a discussion, and not one dis-
cussion only, but a second, and perhaps a third.
If Tories can at the demand of interested clamour
compel the Government to modify an honest
scheme, at the cost of the income-tax payers, surely
sincere Literals, and we are sure there are such,
might with irresistible arguments on their side
compel the Government to halt in a " corrupt prac-
tices'' course. We know clamour is a mighty
power; but so is fact and rusunac,nt. Nowthe fact is
undeniable that the dishonest bill, read a second time
last night,
a
WILLIAM HATTER, the man who, of
has utterly failed of its profess( d object,nd that Sir
all others, was competent to judge, declared on his
oath that he regarded it from the day of its passage
" as a dead litter," It has not brought one single
offender yet to justice; it has not rescued one
tenant-at•will, or a debtor, or a mortgagor, from
political serfdom; it has not prevented the most
lavish expenditure of money in direct bribery. It
is a disgrace to the Government to reproduce the
bill—a disgrace to the House quietly to accept it;
and it is anythiEg but honourable to the supporters
of the ballot in the House that they should not have
risen in a bo3y and demanded that the glaring
failure of the old bill should be followed by < a trial