The Sun.
London, England, 1868-04-13 00:00:00

EAS2ER HOLIDAYS.

Easter holidays are on us. It is true that the
fine, warm summer weather which ushered in the
beginning of this cheerful month has left us; but
there are many advantages to make us thankful
and light-hearted, even though the cold winds of
March intrude upon the showers of April, and both
conjointly reign throughout this season of festivity.
We now can apparently repose in safety, without
the fear of being roused by a blow-up of an anti-
domestic character,—some explosion of gunpowderin our immediate neighbourhood. This advantage
is due to the cooling medicine we have latterly
administered to the madness of Fenianism, which,
if it has not purged it entirely of its insanity, has
made it despondently cautious through regard of
personal security; and the thousands who came
so readily forward to be specials are no longer
required to burden themselves with cumbrous
staves, and bear their official authorities in their
pocketbooks. Again, the Gladstone, under the
skilful
.midwifery of a Bright, has been safely de-
livered of a new bantling, which is likely to grow
up into a fiend of additional discord for the ensuing
election. However; it is all the better to all parties
that it is exposed, but as for effect on a future House
of Common; it will be as perfectly useless as it has
proved powerless as a means of sneaking again into
power. John Bull may be safely trusted to blunder
through his difficulties—so let politics go to sleep for
awhile in the bosoms of our legislators, and let us
enjoy our holidays.
Royalty might, indeed, have rendered London as
gay and attractive as Dublin will doubtless be
through the judicious visit of the Prince and Prin-
cess of Wales, but the Crown seems resolutely bent
on teaching the people how easily they may do
without a Sovereign at all, and the lesson may
not be lost in the future. Never mind its
retirement. It ought to understand its own
interest, and let us now only remember that
Englishmen of all grades will be all the better for a
few days of relaxation. Boat and rail are sending
forth their steamy summons for our presence in the
country, and theatre and concert-room are endea•
vouring to surpass each other in their attractions
for our home amusements. We can by many routes
attain the seaside, and inhale the invigorating
breezes of the Channel we have named, in our
special vanity, as our own, whilst our gallant
neighbours, more discreetly, have baptised it from
its shape and call it " La Manche," or the sleeve.
We can proceed inland, if we love not this, to purely
agricultural districts, and take a sight of the grow-
ing crops, refresh our memories with the view of
young corn and really green fields, and probably
enjoy the April showers into the bargain. Never
mind, a happy party may set all mishaps at de-
fiance. We of this country cannot afford to l
over-squeamish in respect to weather, for the
gods and goddesses too of Wind and of rain
have ever been our spe2ial deities, and Britons
must manage to enjoy themselves in spite of their
liberality. The only thing to guard against is a
little proneness to excess, as we are not under the
Maine Liquor Law yet.
Those who are in the Volunteers will doubtless
be at Portsmouth, either heroically protecting or
gallantly assaulting the fortifications of their native
land, where—after the heat of the battle is over, the
expenditure of a vast quantity of powder and no
ball,—victors and vanquished alike will parade
beneath triumphal arches and fraternise in gaily
bedecked %Iwo. Let PA CnCIeAYOUX to Eats till()