Governor Eyre, after incarnating the most brutish principle of that
worse England, which every American and friend of humanity hates,
could be defended, lauded, and glorified. Indeed, Eyre's bloody policy
in Jamaica was approved of by such men as John Ruskin, Charles
Kingsley, and other literary men, to the surprise and pain of
Americans who had read their books. On the other hand, the men of
science and thinking people in the middle and laboring classes
condemned the red-handed apostle of British brutishness. All through
this, his first journey in Great Britain, as in other countries years
afterward, Carleton clearly distinguished between the Great Britain
which we love, and the Great Britain which we do not love,--the one
standing for righteousness, freedom, and progress; the other allied
with cruelty, injustice, and bigotry.

After studying British finance, political corruption, the army, and
the system of purchasing commissions then in vogue, and visiting the
homes of the Pilgrims in Lincolnshire, and the county fairs, the land
of Burns, and the manufactures of Scotland, Carleton turned his face
towards Paris. Before leaving the home land of his fathers, he dined
and spent an afternoon with the great commoner, John Bright. Mrs.
Coffin accompanied him and enjoyed Mrs. Bright, who was as modest,
unassuming, kind, and genial as her husband. John Bright listened with
intense interest and profound emotion to Carleton's personal
reminiscences of Mr. Lincoln, and of his entrance into Richmond.
Before leaving for France, on the 5th of September, Carleton wrote:

"The thunder of Gettysburg is shaking the thrones of Europe. English
workmen give cheers for the United States. The people of Germany
demand unity. Louis Napoleon, to whom Maximilian had said, 'Mexico and
the Confederacy are two cherries on one stalk,' was already sending
steamers to Vera Cruz, to bring back his homesick soldiers. Monarchy
will then be at an end in North America." Maximilian's wife was in
France, expecting soon to see her husband. In a few weeks, the corpse
of the bandit-emperor, sustained by French bayonets and shot by
Mexican republicans, and an insane widow startled Carleton, as it
startled the world.

The _Journal_ correspondent passed over to Napoleon's realm, spending
a few weeks in Paris, Dijon, and other French cities. In Switzerland
he enjoyed mightily the home of Calvin and its eloquent memories, Mont
Blanc and its associated splendors,