Paris, January 22nd, 1867.—The pretended concessions of the Emperor of France to the French nation was not much thought of in Paris, as it is regarded here of little value. His announcement of his concessions, as being final, will do him more harm, than the concessions themselves will do good.
The Attorney-General told me to-day that I had won the the heart of Mr. Adderly, M.P., Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies, who is an able man. The Attorney-General gave me a note of introduction to him (in the absence of Lord Carnarvon) in order to introduce me to Lord Stanley, which Mr. Adderly did. He asked me many questions about our school system, and told the Attorney-General I had given him an immense deal of information in a short time.
Nice, February 25.—We left Paris Wednesday evening, and reached Marseilles Thursday noon—passing Lyons, Vienne, Avignon, etc., in the valley of the Rhone, by daylight. The scenery was very beautiful, vine-yards on the hillsides, cultivated fields, trees and shrubs green, almonds in blossom. In the afternoon we "did" Marseilles, visiting the Exchange, the Palais de Justice, the ancient and modern port with its thousands of ships,—28,000 entering it per year—ascended the lofty mount, with garden walls on its sides, to the Notre Dame church which surmounts it—a small church of the sailors hung with innumerable characteristic mementoes of their escapes from shipwreck, through the intercession of their Mother-protector! The view of the city and surrounding country, all dotted with villas, is magnificent. Next morning we started for Nice. Toulon, the Mediterranean naval station of France, is about thirty-six miles this side of Marseilles—about one-third of the way to Nice. It is strongly fortified; its port, which is admirable, contains many French ships of war. The population is about 50,000. Between Toulon and Nice lies the town of Cannes—a rival to Nice as a resort for invalids. The scenery from Marseilles to Nice is beautiful, and sometimes grand—the sea on one side, and the gardens, fields, olive and orange orchards, hillsides and mountain slopes, dotted with hamlets and villas, on the other. In the back-ground of Nice are seen the maritime Alps. Oranges are here seen on the trees; and the trees, shrubs and flowers are green, and some of them in blossom. The breezes gentle, the sun bright and warm, the sky clear, and the atmosphere soft and balmy, one seems to inhale healthful vigour with every breath, and to behold cheerful beauty on every side.
I have here met my old friend, Dr. Pantelioni, who attended me when I was ill in Rome, who was employed by Count Cavour to negotiate with Prince Napoleon and the Emperor the treaty of the 15th September, by which the French troops have evacuated Rome; but he is now an exile from Rome, but hopes soon to return thither. He has the first medical practice here, as he had at Rome.
Florence, March 19th.—Since I wrote to you from Rome, we went to Naples, in ten hours, by railway; spent three days there, and returned, the fourth, here—in 23 hours from Naples—arriving here Sunday morning, in time to dress, get breakfast, and go to church, where we heard the liturgy read evangelically, and a good evangelical sermon. The Church at Rome is High Church; that at Florence is evangelical. But I heard an excellent service from the Dean of Ely (Mr. Goodwin), at Rome. I can give you no particulars of our tour. I do not enjoy it. I have wished a good many times that you were in my place, and that I had a week's quiet on my Island. Rome was dirty, as well as almost wholly given to superstition, though there is a strong and widespread hostility among the masses to the temporal power of the Pope. Naples was dirty, but evinced much business activity. Florence is clean, industrious, and all the people cleanly and well-dressed, except some beggars—an old legacy. But the general hostility to the priesthood is remarkable, though not surprising. The Government had gained in the recent elections, but has a difficult part to play, between the Church and Anti-Church parties, and keeping up a large army, and imposing heavy taxes, of which all complain.
Venice, March 28th.—At Florence, the British Minister introduced me to Count Usedon, the Prussian Minister at Florence, formerly at Paris, a most delightful and variously learned man, who invited me to go to his villa, but I had not time, and who told me all about the working of the Prussian System of Public Instruction, in each neighbourhood—saying that the law had not been changed at all since I was in Prussia; that the Government did nothing but inspect, and see that each locality had a school of a certain kind, and that each person educated his children; but that each locality taxed itself for the support of its school. He told me I could find nothing suitable to my purpose in Prussia, in respect to the militia organization in connection with the school system, as there was no connection between the one and the other, and that the military system was expensive, and much interfered with the ordinary employments; but that Switzerland was the place for me to learn and study the blending of the school system with military training, in consequence of which every Swiss had a good education, understood the use of arms and military drill, and was yet practical, industrious, and sober, while the whole system was very inexpensive. He gave me a letter of introduction to a friend of his in Switzerland, who could give me every information I might desire, and all needful documents.
Lake Como, April 1st.—This is the first place of rest and retirement that we have had since we came to Europe. We are inhaling fresh country air every day. We are in the centre of a natural magnificence, beauty, and grandeur such as I have never witnessed—before us the little, deep, Y-shaped lake, abounding in fish, dotted with skiffs, skirted with flower gardens, walks, shrubs, and villas, and overhung on either side by snow-capped mountains—roses and plants and green flowers at the bottom of the mountains—craggy rocks and deep snow at the top, and all apparently within a mile's distance. Here where we stop is the villa of the Duke of Meiningen, and the palace-residence of the late Queen Caroline of England (now an hotel), and the villa of the King of the Belgians—a favourite place of retirement of the late King. What I have witnessed here, in the quiet Sabbath of yesterday, has given me more impressive views of the varied beauty and magnificence of the works of God than I ever had before, though I had travelled much, and finished my sixty-fourth year the Sabbath before.
London, 30th April.—I was present two hours at the anniversary of the Church Missionary Society—heard the report (a very good one) read, and heard Lord Chichester (President), the Lord Bishop of Norwich, Dean of Carlisle, and the Lord Bishop of Cork. The speaking was evangelical—Methodistically experimental, but nothing like so able and effective as that at the Wesleyan Missionary meeting yesterday.
I attended a meeting this afternoon at City Road Chapel, to hear an address from Lord Shaftesbury on Ragged Schools, and to witness the laying of the corner-stone of a chapel school-house in an alley about six minutes' walk from City Road Wesleyan Chapel—one of the most wretched neighbourhoods in London. I never knew before what the ragged poor of London, in the lanes and alleys, were. I never witnessed such a sight of squalid wretchedness—the neighbourhood literally swarming with children—every window of the houses around full of heads—all indicating that lowest degradation, but many of the children had good features and bright eyes sparkling through the encrustation of dirt. We have no such class in Canada, and I hope we never may.
Lord Shaftesbury's remarks were of the highest type of Scriptural and experimental truth—eminently practical and suggestive. His address to the poor creatures, at the laying of the corner-stone of the edifice, was full of kindness and affection—adopting even the very style of address common among the class whom he addressed. As a specimen, his Lordship said:—"I just heard a boy say behind me, 'which is him?' Now, I am him; you want to see him; and I want to see you, and to talk to you, and to do you good. We have all come here to do you good, because we love you, and the poorer you are, and the more you suffer, the more we wish to help you, and to do you good." He reminded me of the Saviour going about doing good, and of the words of Job (chap. 29), "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw me it gave witness to me, because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him," etc. (verses 11, 13, 15, and 16). It was to me an impressive, affecting, and, I trust, a useful lesson.