M. Francis Wey, who is a college professor and _litterateur_ of some eminence in Paris, has published for visitors from the continent to the Great Exhibition, a volume entitled _Guides à Londres_, composed, we believe, of a series of articles, _Les Anglais chez Eux_ (the English at Home), which he had contributed to the _Musée des Familles_, an old and favorite Parisian journal. It is very amusing to see the manner in which these things are received by the British press. The sensitiveness of which the Americans are accused is quite equalled in that which is displayed in the London criticisms of Monsieur Wey. And just at this time it is all the more pleasant to us, for that our amiable Mother-Country critics are quoting with so much enjoyment the characterizations of us poor United-Statesers, done in the same way, by a gentleman of the same country. Even _Blackwood_ does not seem to have a suspicion that a Frenchman could caricature or in any way exaggerate the publicities or domesticities of New-York; but all the independent, care-for-nothing John Bulls see only "rancor," "ill-will," and "absurdity" in the Frenchman's views of English society. The _Literary Gazette_, the _Weekly News_, and all the rest, have the same tone. French travellers, it is said--
"Instead of patiently collecting their facts, they _invent_ them. Instead of representing social usages as they really are, they state them as what they choose to suppose. They mistake flippancy for wit, and imperturbable assurance for knowledge. They speak _ex cathedra_ of matters of which they are profoundly ignorant. And the consequence of all this is that they commit the drollest blunders, make the most startling assertions, indulge in the most grotesque appreciations, and flounder in the most extravagant absurdities."
We wonder if a single British reviewer will introduce, with such a paragraph, his extracts from the Letters on America, by M. XAVIER MARMIER? Not a bit of it.
"The Englishman has invented for himself a language adapted to his placid manners and silent tastes. This language is a murmur, accompanied by soft hissings; it falls from the lips, but is scarcely articulated; if the chest or throat be employed to increase the power of the voice, the words become changed and scarcely intelligible; if cried aloud, they are hoarse, and resemble the confused croaking of frogs in marshes."