that it does not remain true to itself, so that we cannot count upon securing it even by satisfying its selfishness.
The worst is that the French imagine London as a second Paris, the West End as another Saint Germain quarter; that they regard the British reformers as allied Liberals, and Parliament as Chambers of deputies and peers—in short, that they measure and judge all that exists in England by a French standard. From all this result errors which will perhaps be eventually dearly paid for. Both nations have a character too sharply opposed one to the other to be capable of mutual intelligence, and all circumstances and relations in both countries are too radically different to admit comparison, especially in political relations. The additions to the Reisebilder—"Pictures of Travel," contain much information on this subject derived from direct observation, and I must refer to this to avoid repetition. And I will here again mention the admirable Briefe eines Verstorbenen—"Letters from a Dead Man,"[1] although the poetic feeling of the author has made him imagine that he perceived (hineingeschaut) more intellectual activity in stock-stiff Britishism than is to be actually found therein. To describe England
- ↑ French version—"Je citerai encore les excellents Mémoires du Prince Puckler-Muskau."
