Lord Beaconsfield was received in England on Tuesday with gratnlatory
paeans, and elaborate indeed, but not very multitudi- nous rapture. He had the rare pleasure—as we should think—of magnanimously demanding at Dover for the services of Lord Salisbury a recognition as cordial as for his own, and of insist- ing that Lord Salisbury should be assigned a place in Lady Abergavenny's carriage from the Charing-Cross Station to Downing Street. He told the British people from the window of his official residence that he had brought them back ." peace, with honour ;" and was received, it is said, at Downing Street by General Ponsonby, who presented him with a rare exotic bouquet, from the Queen. London did not turn out in its greatest crowds to see the procession,—when the Queen herself opens Parliament, the crowd is usually much more dense,—but those who were there showed some vivacity of the Beaconsfield kind. One working-man, for instance, who was mounted upon one of the lions in Trafalgar Square, when ordered down by the police, declared that he was not going to descend from the British Lion on such a day as that. Lord Beaconsfield's worshippers were, all of them, in the British-leonine mood, which is a mood more noisy than dangerous, more grandiloquent than great.