The Sun.
London, England, 1865-03-20 00:00:00

SPIRIT OF TEE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

THE "Exmane ON LEEDS AND LORD AXBERLEY.—
Often as we have been told that public pressure is the one
argument wanting to justify any further concession of a
distinct measure of electoral reform, Lord Amberley gets
with the politicians who have been asking for such pres-
sure, no credit for having admitted even that argument to
be a valid one. He went down to Leeds to exchange ideas
with the electors ; not as a candidate, but to learn whether
as a candidate he would be acceptable. All that he said
seems to us to have been said with generous candour and
becoming modesty, Once or twice, as even an expert man
might easily have done, when standing up in a crowded
assembly to be pelted with questions sensible and
Lord Amberley failed to measure his words. Nobody can
suppose him to have meant really to say that a man de-
serves to be disqualified if, when he can to afford to pay
for a ten-pound house, he lives in a six-pound one. The
prudent living within means would too obviously indicate
that such a man is a much wiser elector than he who, if
he can only afford to live in a six-pound house, will yet
live in a ten-pound one.' We hope, also, that Lord Am-
berley was not exactly measuring his words when he spoke
hesitatingly of Mr. Lawson's Permissive Bill, which, in-
deed, is so contrary to sound legislation that he should at
once have declared his resolution to oppose it. His hesi-
tation even there, however, evidently proceeded from the
natural and just desire that governed his whole conduct at
the meeting. Ho wished to start in the political world free
of political debts, and has found that, without running a
little into such debt, he cannot raise the political capital
necessary for a safe start as member for a constituency like
thit of Leeds. As to Mr. Baines's six-pound franchise,
Lord Amberley had not declared himself opposed to it; but
upon details of reform, as of everything else, he wished to
remain master of his future. Upon these terms Leeds ex-
plicitly refused to have him. One promise it required of
him, a promise not opposedto the tenor of his own opinions
nor dishonourable nor. unwise, and one of which the fitness
was proved by the very unanimity with which it was
pressed upon him by a great and intelligent liberal consti-
tuency. Upon further deliberation and counsel, that pro-
mise he gave. We think tbatt he exercised a sound discre-
tion in the pains he took to keep his future political career
as far as possible unfettered. Nor, under the circumstances,
did his judgment or his conscience fail him when he made
up his mind to pledge himself beforehand to support Mr.
Baines's Borough Franchise Bill. Equally sure are we
that the electors of Leeds, having been so frankly met,
will show their liberality and good sense by making it a
point of hononr to give Lord Amberley his start in politi-
cal life in all other respects unfettered.

AT IT AGAIN !--(TIIE "SATURDAY REVIEW'S" LAST COM-
MENT ON MIL SPURGEON.)—TIIO opportunity of scrutinising
the exact details of the Spnrgeonic process of getting at
the masses, says the Saturday Review,
ought by no means
to be lost. Our contemporary thus continues :—lt is
rather startling to find that the first step to reach the
multitude is to charge them half-a-crown, a shilling, or
person is to go and seek him
sixpence each for putting themselves within reach. At
first sight one would suppose that the best way of begin-
ningout.
this
sa
is unwillingthe
superficial view to be expected from
the stiff and haughty Episcopalian. That notion may be
loft to the wretched minion of a bloated hierarchy who for
ninety pounds a year consents to trudge through filthy
streets, and live laborious days among the sick and needy.
The only plan to secure your multitude is to charge it at
least sixpence a head for the privilege of being got at. Of
the many hundred persons present the other even-
ing at Mr. Spurgeon's meeting-house, an overwhelming
majority had paid a shilling for this privilege. A good deal
of incidental ferocity, just stopping short of bloodshed,
was aroused in the bosoms of those who had paid half-
a-crown to be got at, on finding their reserved seats stub-
bornly held by the horde who had overflowed from die
shilling places about ten minutes after the doors were
opened. The familiar revilings of truly converted but ex-
ceedingly vituperative Jadies were heard on all sides, and
the unquenchable animosities which sprang up between
the people who were in possession and those who had only
a bare and fruitless title proved satisfactorily how these
Elephant and Castle Christians can love one another upon
occasion. The indignation was just. The man who has
paid half-a-crown in order that he might be got at with
comfort and respectability is reasonably furious to find
that a poor shilling, or even sixpenny, creature has usurped
his place. The situation in the more crowded part of the
Tabernacle seemed to resemble a good deal the Scotch
diversion of toozling, only with all its drawbacks and
none of it; presumed gratifications. Perhaps Mr.
Spurgecln designed that not merely his lecture, but
the whole entertainment, should be symbolical, and the
intrusion of the humbler contributors into the more
exalted places was meant to offer a vivid practical
illustration of :the Scriptural parable of the upper and
lower chambers. There can be no objection to illustrating
the parables, but it would perhaps be. as honest if the per-
son who asked for a half-crown ticket were informed be-
fore payment that he was purchasing the right to be made
a vivid illustration of, and not a seat. After all, if the
Tabernacle on week days is to be made the home of legiti-
mate spiritual drama, the spiritual box-keepers and check-
takers should learn their business from the. worldlings of
the Lyceum or Drury Lane. It is sound doctrine that we
should not be conformed to the world ; still the practice of
not receiving money for wares which you know you have
not got to dispose of is just one of those little things in
which, even if one takes the very loftiest ground, confor-
formity is quite unobjectionable. However, the storm
lulled when the great popular favourite appeared on the
platform, or stage, or pulpit, or whatever oth©r name Mr.
Spurgeon chooses to give to the very remarkable construc-
tion on which he walks about. People forgot their wrongs,
and sedulously prepared to be got at. The performance—
" repeated," we believe, ,4 by particular desire"—consisted
of some widely promiscuous lessons in the general conduct
of life, drawn from wax-candles, tapers, dips, dark lan-
terns, and so on, which were laid out carefully on a side
table. Mr. Spurgeon did not pretend that the notion was
original, but maintained that practical examples would get
at the multitude in a way which nothing else could. By
getting at people, it may probably be presumed that Mr
Spurgeon and his champions mean making them better and
wiser. These emblems therefore, and Mr. Spurgeon's in-
terpretations of them, are presumably intended and be-
lieved to put various moral and religious truths with a new
and increased persuasiveness. If all mankind were chil-
dren perhaps the easiest way of teaching them that twice
six are twelve would be by means of twice six marbles, or
any other concrete example. Mr. Spurgeon, it would seem,
looks upon moral habits as things to be taught on the

amo principle. A man will have a much more lively
idea of the rapidity with which time fleets away if he sees
seven lighted candles of varying heights, and Mr. Spurgeon
behind them to explain that the tallest represents childhood,
and the one dying in its socket represents old age, and that life
is a very solemn thing. A dark lantern is a convincing proof
that there are men who do not seem to have any religion or
morals, but yet can pour out a flood of light when they
turn their bull's-eye on. This, we suspect, was the most
consolatory illustration of the evening. In fact, it is no
calumny against human nature to suppose that all the
audience divided themselves in their own minds into the
two leading classes of dark lanterns and best wax candles,
of actual shining lights or potential bulls'-eyes. An old
lantern with a crack in it illustrated the sweet uses of ad-
versity, which lets out whatever light is in a man with
exceptional brilliancy. A halfpenny dip alight, placed by
the side of an unlighted paraffin candle in a silver candle-
stick, proved clearly the cogent and novel truth that a
humble man, with pluck and various other virtues, is more
generally useful than a rich and exalted man without them.
A modest taper vividly enforced the still moro overwhelm-
ing fact that a meek man, with small means, might often
serve to enkindle the zeal of the wax candle or the dark
lantern. A candle which Mr. Spurgeon's assistant had
prepared for the purpose gave forth a huge sputtering, and
almost refused to be lighted. This was a fearful lesson for
the men and women who won't enjoy their light in peace,
but are always hissing and sneering and finding fault. Of
course the men and women who could not be "got at" by
exhortation, whom no reason will induce to cease from
carping and discontent and ill-humour, will be at once
penetrated by the spectacle of a wet wick sputtering in a
flame. If we see Mr. Spurgeon try to light a candle with
the extinguisher on, we learn the important lesson of life
that, if a man puts the extinguisher of daily prayer on his
passions, they will never be mischievously inflamed. The
spectacle, any one may guess, gives us a much more solemn
appreciation of the beauty and power of a prayerful spirit
than we had before. As a matter of fact, the audience
heartily as they watched their " pastor's" efforts to light
the candle of the passions when the extinguisher of prayer
was upon it. They were most unquestionably "got at ;"
but whether, on the whole, the getting at was likely to
prove a strikingly fruitful operation may be doubted. Mr.
Spurgeon was peculiarly graphic in his illustration of
David's exclamation that the word of the Lord has been as
a lantern round about his feet. Armed with a little Oriental
lamp, the orator held it above his head, opposite his head,
and by his left side. These three highly comic gestures were
meant to explain that the Bible is not meant to enable us to
see the stars by it, nor to confer either intellectual gratifi-
cation or comfort to the heart. Then with inimitable gro-
tesqueness, Mr. Spurgeon held the lamp down to his boots,
and in that curious attitude two or three times perambu-
lated his stage. This Spurgeonesque commentary on
Scripture was so striking that one may defy anybody who
was present ever to hear the text in question, as long as he
lives, without reminiscences of the Tabernacle. And we
may also defy anybody to remember this sublime scene
without an inclination to laugh. It is all very well to "get
at" your multitude, but surely it is of some importance
what is done with them after they have been got at. To
make them laugh, to tell them pointless stories, to repre-
sent abstractions by ridiculous corporeal emblems, may
attract people ; but what then ? If the audience had been
a pack of savages or children, such stuff might be appro-
priate, but adults who are so far from the ignorance of
destitution as to be willing and able to give a shilling or
sixpence for an evening's amusement surely don't require
the diet of babes. The listeners and spectators of Tuesday
evening were well-to-do thriving people. Rags, and bar-
barous ignorance, and every other terrible thing implied in
the name of the London multitude, were nowhere among
them. if Mr. Spurgeon has been raised up to do a work
among grocers and buttermen and all the other respectable
obstacles to enlightment and thought, his work is surely
not to pander to their vulgarity, and reduce religion to a
peg on which to hang bad jokes and buffoonery to suit
their tastes. If, on the other hand, he has been raised up
to do a work among the destitute pagans of London, the
onlyanswer is that destitute pagans will not go to gigantic
glaring tabernacles to spend sixpences which they have
not got. But the crowning absurdity of the whole business
was wisely reserved for the end. After Mr. Spurgeon had
done with his candles and the rest of his apparatus, a
veteran teetotaller got up, and, after some remarks on the
glories of water, summoned two little boys with knicker-
bockers and red stockings to the front of the stage. The
more flippant of the spectators Might have anticipated a
light gymnastic performance, either as a testimony to the
unimpaired strength of the aged abstainer or as emblematic
of something in the Bible. However, The teetotaller an-
nounced that they bore a name which would be honoured
in history ; so the audience, who had been in a manner
guessing riddles all night about the candles, conjectured
and rightly, that they beheld the sons of their "pastor.'?
Then solemnly each was admitted a member of the Band
of Hope Union, and ceremoniously invested with the medal
of the order. The enthusiasm of the multitude knew no
bounds. They cheered, and waved hats and handkerchiefs
and the little boys made two tiny speeches, and then the
several hundreds of people cheered and waved hats and
handkerchiefs again till they were all hoarse and dizzy.
This is the kind of thing for which the multitude are to be
got at !

THE "LONDON REVIEW" ON PRIVATE LETTERS.—The
authorities at the British Museum appear to recognise the
propriety of exhibiting such letters only of eminent per-
sonages recently deceased as refer either to public matters,
or to such private matters as relate exclusively to ordinary
business. The only strictly private letter of the late Duke
of Wellington, in the British Museum, is addressed to Sir
John Lawrence, requesting to know when the next sitting
for his portrait was to take place. The exhibition of such
a note as this is of course entirely unobjectionable,while, at
the .c.• ame time, it gratifies the curiosity of those autograph
hunters who appear to pass a large portion of their time in
disabusing themselves of the idea that members of the
peerage write backwards, or upside down, or, at all events,
in some manner unknown to persons of humbler degree.
That some such rule as this governs the Museum trustees
in their dealings with vendors of autographs, we gather,
not only from the nature of the collection itself, but
also from an application which came before the Master
of the Rolls on Thursday week last. This application
was made, ex perte, by the Duke of Wellington, for
an injunction to restrain Lord Robert Montagu
from publishing certain private letters written by the late
Duke and Duchess of Wellington, the father and mother of
the applicant. From this application it seems that the late
Duke and Duchess were on terms of great intimacy with
the late benevolent Lady Olivia Sparrow, and in the course
of their acquaintance Lady Olivia became possessed of a
considerable number of letters written both by the Duke and
the Duchess. On the death of Lady Olivia Sparrow, Lord
Robert Montagu became possessed of these letters, and
being in want of ready money, offered them for sale in the
first instance. to the present Duke, and, on his Grace's de-
clining to purchase them, to the British Museum. In the
month of February last Si Roderick Murchison wrote to
the Duke of Wellington, informing him that Lord Robert
Montagu had offered the letters for sale, and that the
Museum had declined to entertain the question of purchas-
ing them on the ground that they were private letters, and
that it would be, therefore, manifestly unfair to expose them
to public criticism. At the same time he told the Duke that
the letters were left at the Museum, in the custody of Mr.
Bond for valuation. Upon the receipt of this information
the Duke wrote to Lord Robert for an explanation, and
Lord Robert, in reply, reminded the Duke that the
letters had been offered to him in the first instance, and,
on the Duke refusing to treat for them, they had been
submitted to the trustees of the British Museum. In a
subsequent letter he informed the Duke that the manu-
scripts had been valued by Mr. Bond at £BO, and once more
offered the Duke the refusal of them. The Duke again de-
clined to treat for them, and, after an unimportant corre-
spondence on the subject of his right to see the letters, an
application was made by him to restrain Lord Robert Mon-
tagu from publishing them, on the grounds that they were
"private letters of the late Duke and Duchess of Welling-
ton to a personal friend ; that the present Duke was the
legal representative of the writers of such letters ; and that
the sale or publication of the letters would be a breach of
private confidence, and a violation of the social rights and
immunities that should always attach to letters of such a
class." We confess we do not clearly see on what legal
ground the Duke of Wellington rests his application. The
letters were undoubtedly the pi operty of the person, Lady
Olivia Sparrow, to whom they were addressed, and through
her they came into the possession of Lord Robert Montagu.
But, at the same time, there can be no doubt whatever that
Lord Robert, in acting as he has done, has violated a
stringent social law. As the representative of the deceased
lady, he is morally bound by the same rules that would have
guided her if she had found itnecessary to realise her estate
in her lifetime. In writing to a confidential friend on a
delicate topic, a man seldom takes the precaution to head
his letters "Private," for he naturally considers that the
terms of intimacy that exist between him and the person he
addresses forma sufficient guarantee that no improper use
will be made of his communication. There is probably not a
man in England who, if he can write at all, has not written
many letters which no earthly consideration would induce
him to expose to public scrutiny. Letters referring to
domestic troubles, the misfortunes or misconduct of ourselves
or of those who are dear to us, in many cases letters that
would expose acts of benevolence or of mercy, letters of
disagreement or of reconciliation—these, and hundreds Of
others whose exposure would tend to lay bare the secret
clockwork of the heart, and prove to the world how wonder-
fully alike we all are, are documents which we have all
written, and to the publication of which We should all
equally object. It is one of the penalties which celebrated
people pay for their exalted position that they are dodged
about by importunate autograph hunters, who, if they can-
not get what they want by fair and legitimate means, are
fain to crouch unseen, and so lie in wait for any autographic
scraps that may fall from the rich, or great, or good, or bad
man's writing table. If they cannot get an invitation to
dinner, they are consoled if their solicitations elicit an im-
patient (autographic) reply, and, failing this, the signature
on a receipt stamp has its value, so that it be by the lord,
and not by his steward or agent. Autograph hunters of
this class are harmless, although contemptible. Their
relics are interesting only to themselves, and they are never
of sufficient importance to compromise their great, or rich,
or clever, or infamous originators. But with the possessors

of private letters it is otherwise. It may be that they have
at their disposal documents which neither the senders nor
the recipients would on any account have shown to a living
soul, and they then endeavour to obtain a fabulous sum
from the descendants of the writers with the alternative of
public exposure. It is difficult to over-estimate the im-
portance of putting a check upon this growing practice;
and in the cause of all present and future celebrities, we
trust that, if it should turn out that there is no existing
means of putting a stop to this most annoying practice, it
will not be very long before the attention of the Legisla-
ture is directed to the subject.
THE " SPECTATOR" ON THE ETHICS OF JOBBERY.—What
is a job? Was it necessarily a job for Lord Westbury to
give the Clerkship of the Patents to his son-in-law Mr.
Carle; and the Clerkship of the House of Lords to his son ?
Was it a job for Lord Derby to get his son, still a young and
untried man, into the Foreign Office as Under Secretary in
1852, or for Lord Palmerston to bestow the Board of Works
on Mr. Cowper ? Is it a job to determine your choice
among the alternative public courses which lie before you
by reference to a private and personal end ? We may
freely admit that it would be a job to conclude the very
unique and unintelligible arrangement which the'papers
attribute to Mr. Edmunds and Lord Brougham, but only
on the authority of the former, according to which the
Lord Chancellor's brother appears to have notified to Mr.
Edmunds on his appointment to the Patent Office, that he
was to regard a large portion of his salary as interest re-
ceived on a sum of £5,000 lent by Mr. Edmunds's family on
mortgage to Lord Brougham, and Mr. Edmunds on his
side quietly acquiesced in this wonderful arrangement.
Such an understanding would in fact provide that the
same man should pay the interest to whom (inter alios)
the principal belonged ; and that must no doubt, if any
one can believe it to have been entered into, be regarded
as a job of the first magnitude. But the peculiarity of such
an arrangement would prevent its often being entered
into. It must be assumed that Mr. Edmunds was very
glaringly unfit indeed for his work, if it needed a bribe of
£3OO a year to the Lord Chancellor to give a motive for
his appointment ; for it is obvious enough that no brother
of the Lord Chancellor's could have enforced so strange a
bargain without the use of his own authority. We may,
however, regard this as quite an ideal case, that probably
never happened at all except in the imagination of a dis-
ordered brain. But is nepotism really an imaginary vice ?
Was Mr. Cheese's presentment to a rich living by his
father-in-law, the late Bishop of Durham, a perfectly com-
mendable proceeding ? Was the telegram to the Crimea,
" Take care of Dowb," a signally meritorious act of thought-
ful friendship rather than a preference of private claims to
public interests ? If not, how far may such motives be
allowed to enter into public actions, and how far is it mo-
rally incumbent to exclude them? We think it would be
quite impossible to assert truly that politicians ought to
found all such public actions on public motives alone, and
never allow a private consideration to intrude itself upon
them—in other words, that no man high in the Ministry,
like Lord Derby or Lord Russell, should pave the official
way for the promotion of his son ? We think it would be
a mistake, eveu if it were possible, for public men to ask
themselves in every case whethey they know of none who
have deserved promotion more than their own relatives or
friends, and so prefer all public claims to private in their
official appointments. This, which sounds on a first hear-
ing the highest principle on which a public man could act,
would probably, if universally acted upon, lead to far
greater evil than good. For by far the greater number of
public appointments do not require any very special intel-
lectual qualifications, and may be filled with equal success
by one honest man as by another. It matters exceedingly
little intrinsically to the public service whether the last
County Court judgeship is given to a barrister who had
had seven years' unsuccessful experience of circuit life or a -
barrister who has ten, and it matters much to the public
service that such appointments should be given only to
those of whom the giver has at least some respectable
personal knowledge extending through some years—a con-
dition only likely to be fulfilled in the case of a rela-
tive or friend. There is, too, far more real and defi-
nite responsibility felt in considering the qualifications
of a personal friend or relative than in consi-
dering those of a mere stranger recommended
by his antecedents. For integrity, at least, the
personal friend or relation must feel himself thoroughly
responsible, if not for ability, but this would not be so with

a stranger. Then, again, one great attraction of political
power—and nothing is more desirable for the public ser-
vice than that political and official power should be thought
really attractive by able and high-minded men—is precisely
this opportunity it gives men of serving those who are
closely connected with them, whether by political or social
ties, so far as they can do fairly to the State. Strike out
this important thread in the passion usually called ambi-
tion and you deprive it not only of a great additional fas-
cination, but of that cohesive force which makes and holds
together a party. If every man is to use his powerin vacuo
as it were, with sole relation to the qualification of the can-
didate for the vacant office, and no relation to the motives
of old family or political connection, all the motives to co-
operation would be weakened. It would demoralise the
party almost as much for its head to pay no attention
whatever to old claims of service, gratitude, or family, as
it would a banking establishment if outsiders were pro-
moted over the heads of old and faithful clerks
without any special %reason, without regard to
any consideration, but some minute item of qua-
Jification for the post in question. And if you once
admit that extrinsic considerations—considerations not
bearing on the fitness of the individual for the office—may
and must come in in the case of old party claims, it is
absolutely impossible to maintain that they ought to be
excluded when the claims are of a different kind—those of
friendship or family. If for the sake of keeping a party in
hearty co-operation you may ignore minute distinctions in
so-called merit, for the sake of keeping up social or family
ties you may do the same. If strong political cohesions are
a benefit to the State, social and domestic ties are at the root
of half these cohesions, and are noless so. The consideration
" Is the man fit for the post ?" should be a primary one, but
if he is clearly not unfit, then many other considerations
may fairly be admitted to a voice in the decision, which do
not, strictly speaking, bear upon that one. But would not
this principle justify " Take care of Dowb" and nepotism of
all sorts ? We think not. If the primary insurance against
jobbery be attended to, that " a man should bo not unfit for
his post"—the reasons given for that condition require us
to include in the meaning of the not-unfitness' that there
shall be no other man so conspicuously fitted for it, that
to pass him over is a slight to the service and a discourage-
ment to great deserts. For we have said that one power-
ful reason for admitting political and social and family
claims to a voice in the matter, was that this tends to a
hearty co-operation and unity of political party and an
esprit de corps in official services. But it is precisely this
spirit of co-operation which would be injured, this esprit
de corps which would be outraged, by pressing personal
claims when any man has fitted himself by general acclaim
to fill a particular post. There can be no greater injury to
the spirit of an army in the field, conscious as it is of the
immense importance attached to efficient leadership, than
the notion that acknowledged military merit would in any
way be postponed to considerations of personal favour.
Perhaps it may be laid down as a general principle first,
that whenever a candidate is without the requisite quali-
fications for filling a post well, his apppointment on other
grounds would be a job ; and next, that even when he has
them, if another man is distinctly known to possess them
in a higher degree, the preference of the inferior man for
private motives of any sort would be a job; but that as a
reason for choosing between a number of men sincerely
believed to be equal, or nearly equal, in their qualifications
—and probably there are a vast number thus practically
equal in their fitness for the majority of the Civil Service
appointments—private motives of this kind are not only
admissible but legitimate, and even deserving of due
weight.

THE " SATURDAY REVIEW" ON THE MARQUIS DE BOISSY.
—The ancient practice of keeping an official fool must
doubtless have been extremely wearisome. Only a rude
state of society can have pleasure in a constant display
of real or affected folly. But, in a modified form,
the institution has not gone entirely out of use in our
own days. The House of Commons may be said to
be rather out of fools ; not that we would be understood
to say that there are fewer members than usual whose sup-
ply is inferior to the average amount allotted to mankind,
but that there is scarcely any one who fills the unenviable
and difficult post of regularly providing laughter at his
own expense. Mr. Whalley sometimes succeeds pretty
well in making himself and his cause ridiculous, but his
talents are, after all, confined to a narrow line. It would
be invidious to mention the gentlemen who occasionally
fill the character, as it were by special request, and for a
single evening. But since Colonel Sibthorp, the post of
accepted buffoon has not been satisfactorily occupied—
probably because there is no salary attached to it, and be-
cause no high official has the power of appointing persons
who stand in the proper relation to him, and are also duly
qualified for the office. In France they are just now better
provided. The French Senate has an admirably qualified
performer in the Marquis de Boissy, whose talents, we re-
gret to say, seem to be scarcely appreciated as they deserve.
Frenchmen, indeed, can turn out specimens of the genus
fool which can scarcely be rivalled in any country ; but
the same national peculiarities which fit them to excel in
this peculiar branch of the dramatic art sometimes prevent
them from finding a duly sympathising audience.
A fool, like wiser men, sometimes gets no honour
in his own country. The great merit of the French
variety of buffoon is his thorough-going and com-
placent unconsciousness. A Frenchman can make
himself intensely ridiculous without that indistinct percep-
tion that everyone is laughing at him which generally
haunts his English rival and renders his performance more
less awkward. The Frenchman goes at it in pure gaiety of
heart; it does not occur to him to doubt or hesitate for a
moment ; he plays all his antics, and fires off his pet ab-
surdities, as though the eyes of the universe were fixed
admiringly upon him. And his countrymen are rather apt
to fall into the same spirit, and take him at his own valua-
tion. Whether it is due to the absence of that humour
which Englishmen are apt to arrogate to themselves as a
special national privilege, or whether Frenchmen are too
excitable to allow their sense of humour fair play, they are
seldom content to laugh at him simply. They see his ab-
surdities, but, instead of assuming him to bo ridiculous,
they iniggt upon arguing with him. They won't lot their

~,--~'

buffoon play out .his play without pelting him . with epl"
grams and syllogisms and interpellations of every variety.
The spaces between his sentences which in an English
port would be filled by "laughter" and "roars of laughter'
are devoted, in France, to lively remonstrances and the
clearest demonstration of what nobody doubts—namely'
that the orator is talking intolerable nonsense. They d°
not seem to understand that his object is to talk nonsense,
and that the more effectually he talks it the more reason-
able men should be grateful to him. The Marquis de Boissy
has lately been giving a most brilliant speciMen of his
powers in this direction. He has been treating the French
Senate to a speech which fills two or three very closely"
printed newspaper columns, ranging over a great varlet/
of topics, and touching nothing that he does not makes
premely ridiculous. He has a happy faculty for bringing.
.
together ideas which are incongruous enough to be absurd,
and which at the same time, like the sayings of an enftsig
terrible, raise very delicate questions. In his erratic course+
he blundered against every object that can well come with,:
in ttai scope of a French address—that is, pretty well ev"
object in heaven or earth—and every new contact strucic
fresh flashes of folly out of him. The merit of his
surdity was, that he generally contrived to put his pints
into pretty sharp language, and that there was a
of distorted sense at the bottom of most of his
marks which saved them from absolute insipidity.
deed, there was frequently sufficient semblance of so
ss:
to excite his audience to the temperature ma l 3
by "murmurs" and "lively sensation." '";
started with an interesting and appropriate anecdote ei
Marshal Bugeaud, who, it seems, used to be the object
general insult till he had the misfortuue to kill one of his
insulters, after which his speeches were listened to with
profound respect. The warning seems to have been throws
away upon the Senate. He immediately plunged iot°
discussion of considerable delicacy. He expressed 13'
intense admiration of the Emperor. He professed to be.!
Bonapartist of the most devoted type. He blessed
Sovereign all day long, and, not content with that, Pe
blessed him whenever he lay awake at night. But he er
plained his affection on the singular ground that he „n
lieved in parliamentary government. Of 14 forms of ge
vernment which had been tried since the Revolution
broke out, 33 years had been passed under a parliamentary
regime, whilst the existence of the others had average",
only four years apiece. This fact, and the greatness .0'
England, which has no other element of greatness than
its
form of government, were a sufficient demonstration that
it was the best form possible. It required a still iii°re
amazing logical leap to connect this theorem with tile
praises of the Emperor. The feat, however, was Per,'
formed by remarking that the Emperor had solemnly
promised to "ameliorate" the existing Constitution ; that
the Emperor always keeps his solemn promises, 35
notoriously the case ; and that he was too wise not t°
agree in M. de Boissy's belief that the only possibly
amelioration of the Constitution was to be found in Pf
liamentary government. This line of argument was
mirably adapted to bring M. de Boissy into collisionwith
every one in turn. It was like proposing success to Bes;
form, and coupling it with the name of Lord Derby. ITel
treading at every step upon his neighbours' most sells'. °a
toes. We are not surprised that the President interfered
to fire at him one of those party speeches conaPree ssees
into a couple of epigrams which are a French Presidllto
ordinary weapons for preserving order. The marquis air
dogmatically informed, notwithstanding his eager 7 a •
avowals, that he was sapping the base of the Constitati°,.„
under pretence of praising its author. He accordingly
settled down, after various irrelevant gyrations urena,o
two pet aversions. M. de Boissy hates nine-tenths er
tely
Italian, and all the English, nation. As he lives in a
most of the year, he says with authority that it is filh
brigands, murderers, villains, and every other specissA,sf,
the vile Mazzinian g3nus. After an irrelevant but "La
criminating eulogy of Nana Sahib, he fell vigorously uPh
Mazzini. Whenever he thinks of Mazzini and
gold he is irresistibly reminded of Charlotte CordaY•
of coure, cannot account for the laws of association in;
de Boissy's mind. What makes his connexion of id ,
more puzzling is that the Corday of the future is to aessE,
sinate, not a Marat, but the object of M. de Boiss
nightly blessings—Napoleon himself.