The Sun.
London, England, 1858-08-27 00:00:00

to the people that the family of the prince was not
entirely extinct, and that he had left a natural son of
tender ege, who had been brought up in Florence unders
fictitious name. At this news the joy of the people keel
nu bounds. A deputation was sent to Florence to find tbt
child ; it was brought back in triumph, it was proclaimed
with enthusiasm, and a century afterwards the posterity Of
that child still reigned in Bologna. Gentlemen, the secret
of this historical phenomenon lies in the human heart;
whenever the news of a political assassination is spree('
among a population the same results are invariably Pre.
dueed. After a moment of stupor the heart of man OW
dons itself to its natural impressions. Horror of assassins'
tion, detestation of the murderers, pity for the victim, Bed
sympathy for his relations and friends—such are the senti-
ments which naturally and immediately show themselves.
Men, women, and children, the old and the young, all are
animated by a common feeling ; and then, as the news ei,
the crime spread., all are borne down and subjugated hl
the irresistible current of opinion. When the cry
Down with the assassins !' is raised, the terrified our'
derers hide themselves or fly ; factions, fearing that they reel
be accused of complicity, either join in the chorus of public
indignation, or seek to shelter themselves from its furl'
Finally, the worst elements of society, in whom the secret
hopes of crime always place their main reliance, are parr
lysed by the attitude of the immense majority ; and that
the cause which the assassins though to stifle in the bleed,
of an illustrious victim reigns and prevails more powerfe`
and resplendent than ever. Such, gentlemen, is the inve'
riable turn given by the natural feelings of the hums°
heart to events of this kind. But how much more energetic
than in an ordinary case would be these feelings, if (whie!
God forbid !) the victim should be the elect of the French
people; if the assassin's poignard, in striking the Emperor,
were to pierce the heart of so many millions of men. Cer'
tainly, at such a moment, all would do their duty. Our
noble and gracious Empress, with that chivalrous courage
which distinguishes her, would repress her grief and present
her son to the people and the army. Prince Jerome, the
venerable brother of the great Emperor, would be by her
side to assist her with his counsels. The Prince Napoleon,
who now gives such hopes to the country—(applause)"'
would not fail to provoke the Government, if necessary, to
take the measures requisite to ensure the throne to his
nephew; and, indeed, the Council of Regency and the
entire Government would be equal to the emergency—het
all the resources of human prudence would find themselves
surpassed by the effects of public indignation. Cries of
A bas les assassins!' and of Vive Napoleon IV.!' would
resound from one end of France to the other—would be.
more efficacious than all the arrangements of tact—and
s
the shade of the great Emperor then, as to-day, from th`
depths of the tomb of the Invalides, would continue t°
peacefully reign over France. (Enthusiastic cheering')
Thus, messieurs, the Napoleon dynasty enjoys in realitf
the best conditions of power and permanence; strong
in the sympathies of the masses, it has nothing to feet
for itself front popular convulsions; defended by our instita-
tions against the coalitions of internal parties, it is sheltered
from those parliamentary intrigues which have caused se
many catastrophes; finally, not resting on one head alone,
but being able, if needed, to recruit itself from all the reel,
descendants of the brothers of the Emperor Napoleons-4;
cannot be imperilled by the success of an attempt
assassination, and we may say of it consequently tbatt
in all that regards its internal prospects, it presents ever!
condition of strength and duration. And, messieurs, tb:
same may be said of its external relations. Long habituate"
to dread the least movement of France, in turn revolutionist./
and conquering, Europe at first did not view without
quietude the re-establishment upon the throne cf France 0'
the family proscribed by the treaties of 1815. But what:
ever may have been the true sentiments of the gre,e,
Powers at the moment of the acknowledgment of t°'
empire, it is certain that all congratulate themselves
now upon seeing in France a strong, powerful, respect"'
and wise government, which, after a glorious war, heel
been able to make an equally glorious peace. Such l
the universal satisfaction, that the re-establishment of
the empire has strengthened throughout Europe tbd
principles of order and monarchical ideas, and efface,
the impression which the rivalry of the Powers perhaP
led them to receive from the first great tidings froth
France. And we may say to-day that never, since 1815)
have the relations of France with Europe been at once
so honourable and friendly. Nevertheless, a cloud which
might have proved dangerous, lately obscured our rela-
tions with a country whose alliance with ourselves had been
so happily cemented and so fruitful, and it has required
nothing less than the wisdom and reciprocal friendsla
of the two Sovereigns to prevent a coolness between
t
the two Powers. Happily, as the Emperor said
Cherbourg, if it was wished to revive the rancours and
passions of another epoch, the attempt would be defeated 131
the good sense of the public. In fact, messieurs, the interestts
of the two peoples are now so closely interwoven that It
would be difficult for even the most furious passions t°
bring to pass an entire rupture. Such is the solidarity, o'l
interests, that if to morrow London or Paris were burn',
we should each suffer immense commercial losses; and
while a catastrophe falling upon Berlin, Vienna, or 6t•
Petersburg would excite only our sentiments of pity, were
it London, we should be wounded in our interests almost 10
seriously as at Paris itself. Now, when two peoples have
arrived at this point, they are evidently destined to draw
toget her more closely every day their present union,
(‘ Tres bien ! ties bien !') Let us first consider the interest
to France of the English alliance. With England we are
masters of the seas, and consequently have nothing to feat
upon cur frontiers. No coalition against us is possible;
general peace is assured. Our country can gill
itself up to all the developments of its activitY
without any preoccupation, and complete the work
of establishing its institutions without incurring any rislc•
Elsewhere, we have no material rivalry with England, since
she has opened to our commerce as to her own the access to
her immense colonies; it is not her fault if, continuing our
system of production at high prices, we do not know kOW
to profit by it. As to England, her interest in the French
alliance is, perhaps, even more manifest. She succeeded
in 1814 and 1815 in conquering the maritime and colonial
supremacy which was the object of her desires, and to which
she was in some measure destined both by her insular
position and the genius of her inhabitants. England ell'
joys this supremacy beyond all dispute to this day; and she
says to herself that if she were again to have a struggle
with Fiance—supposing (which God forbid !) that the
fare of battles should inflict new disasters upon us—she
would gain no other result than the maintenance of what
she has already, namely, maritime and colonial supremacy,
and, consequently, she would have much to lose and
little to gain in a struggle with France. By a complete
change in views and interests, England has now rr
this—that as much as 40 years ago she was hostile to France,
so much now is she friendly to her ; and so great is the pre'
sent disposition of the English not to separate their interests
from oar ours, that on two most grave (Tensions—lit
determining first to make war with us, and then
to make peace—they, perhaps, even rather toe,k our
aye
d at
position into consideration than their own. (Applause.)
How then, such being the reciprocal disposition of the two
nations, are we to account for what followed the event of
January 14? By the commonest of all explanations—by
series of misunderstandings which arose on both sides of the
Channel. Already, since the peace, public opinion in Eng'
land had taken umbrage at some diplomatic incidents, but
at the news of the attempt of the 14th, England was unani-
mous iu stigmatising the odious crime. At that period the
true English public—that public which, in reality, directs
and governs the State—which is accustomed to see order
proceed from the greatest agitations, to disdain all the ex-
cesses of the press, to take no heed of any of the exaggera-
tions of liberty—the English public, I say, knew nothing
either of the previous attempts organised in England
against the Emperor, nor of the doctrines professed by
a portion of the refugees ; it was, in all sincerity,
as ignorant of those infamies as it was innocent of
them. It was, then, with the most painful astonishment that
it believed (very mistakenly to be sure) it could see in the
addresses which were spoken at Paris a disposition on the
part of Fr ance to render England responsible for the attempt
of the 14th, and to hold her in suspicion. From that mo-
ment, public opinion in England, unanimous in stigmatising
assassination, suddenly checked the demonstrations which
were being made in every part of the country. Then, when
the change in the regime of passports, good or bad, but so
unjustly represented as an act of defiance against the
English themselves and the addresses from the army

especially, which wrought the irritation to the highest
pitch—came, then that Happened which always does hap-
pen in a free country when the national sentiment is in play,
the popular pas,ionci knew no bounds, and the political
ituvion was subject to these pnssions. So, while we thought
that we bad to complain of the arrangements of our allies,

the English people, on their part, believing that they bad

been profoundly injured by France, obeyed nothing but
their irritation. This irritation naturally provoked la
France a similar feeling, equally strong, and whieh would,

perhaps, have been dangerous without the lofty intelligence
and the spirit of justice of the Emperor, to appreciate the
true cause of the attitude of our neighbours. But, messieurs,
whatever may have been the nature of those deplorable
misunderstandings, and of which it is at least easy to pre-
% ent the return, the situation of the two peoples has under-

gone no change. That which undeniably remains is that
the new instincts of England carry her as naturally to a
union with Franco as formerly they promoted a separation;
that ours follow a similar direction; that in spite of
the misunder,tandings and the little reciprocal cgs-
_

trust, and in spite of the intrigues of the parties which
take advantage of them, the great English public sin-
cerely desire the friendship of the Emperor and of
France—(applause)--that, in fact, there is really no

interest, no serious question between the two countries

upon which the simplest good sense cannot put the
two Governments in accord; and thus that it only depends

upon us to maintain an alliance which is so advantageous to

both. (General sips of adhesion.) I repeat, then, MCP