He

late Duke and Duchess; and, secondly, the late Duchess was no duchess at all, seeing that her husband had been clandestinely married to a woman. whose child might at any moment arise and turn the present occupant with disgrace out of name and homestead. In addition to all this, his Grace had himself, in imitation of the paternal example, married privately and begotten children, who, if not legitimate according to English law, might yet come forward, on the strength of their mother's Catholic marriage certificate, and make young Lord Kinsgear's life a burden and a reproach to him. Such thoughts might well have scared a humbler mortal out of all manhood and made him tread the avenues of Beaumanoir as if there were man-traps there. But not so with the Duke, who never appeared so happy as when employing his sagacity to avoid the pitfalls which everywhere beset him. His affectionate kindness to his son, from whom he was about to extort a mean advantage, was almost touching, and his courtly, rather old-fashioned politeness to his friend Lady Overlaw might have served for a model of refinement and high breeding, so delicately was the tender regard of relationship, and more intimate connection, mingled with the chivalrous respect due to a lady high descended from nobles and knights. There are few such gentlemen now left in England as the Duke of Courthope; he was a nobleman of the best type, the very porcelain of human clay. He dressed, spoke, looked like a duke, and could have hardly filled any other place in the scale of creation than that of a duke. really and truly could not say three words or bow to an acquaintance in the street, or write a letter, or do the smallest thing like a common person. The accent of his voice was ducal; he spoke in a loud, clear, commanding manner, generally in a high-pitched, breezy tone, as if far above opposition or remonstrance. If he had not been a duke such a mode of speech would have been astounding and ridiculous. In his case it was merely characteristic, and not unbecoming. It was hardly possible he could have addressed an unknown cabman or a shopman in that manner, for they infallibly would, and must have laughed in his face; but he had little to do with such people. He very rarely entered a shop where he was not known, or came at all in contact with the outside vulgar. He had his place distinctly marked and defined in the modern life of England. It was quite true that his letters were different to the letters of other people; but then a peculiar kind of paper of a yellow colour, with gilt edges, and as thick and smooth as parchment, was made expressly for him, and stamped with the words "Courthope House," or "Beaumanoir," or with the name of any other of his palaces, to which a supply was sent when wanted. Of course, nobody else had such paper, or could use it. If his clothes were different to the clothes of common people, it was that his tailor, a sublime magnate, who lived in Hanover Square, had special patterns made for him, and furnished them to no one else till he had ceased to wear them. A very august sort of tailor this, who had not more than three scores of customers, and would have nothing to do with the mere ruck of petty princes and small peers. If the Duke of Courthope's

personal ornaments were not jingling and offensive like those of Mr. Skipworth Sharpe, it was that they harmonised perfectly with his dress, and that their glitter was sobered by age and interest. Everything he wore had some historical association connected with his family, and was an heirloom which could not be bought. Among them was an opal which gave back a thousand gorgeous colours to the light as softly as an ancient cathedral window, and was known in catalogues of famous gems as “the talisman," because tradition averred it had saved the life of Richard Plantagenet (him of the lion heart) from poison, by paling and growing dim when it touched a poisoned chalice. There was a brilliant of the purest water, which Queen Elizabeth had presented to Philip Wyldwyl, Earl Revel, after the defeat of the Armada, and the courtier had gallantly caused it to be engraven with a rose, as an emblem of the Maiden Majesty of England. There was an antique chain of gold of Florence workmanship, which Charles I. had unslung from his own neck when Sir Harry Wyldwyl, first Lord Courthope, had held the King's stirrup after the victory of Cropredy Bridge, on the famous 29th of June 1644. There was a turquoise marked with cabalistic characters, and of the deepest blue of the old rocks, which General Wyldwyl had wrenched with his own hand from the swarthy neck of Tippoo Sahib at the storming of Seringapatam. In the evening he put on the star and ribbon of the Garter, with the star of the Hanoverian Guelphic order. These were the adornments which the splendid noble wore, as other Dukes of Courthope had worn them before him. They were things which could not be purchased or imitated.

All the remainder of the week of his interview with Mr. Sharpe the Duke charmed every one around him. He entered with serene good nature into his son's pursuits, and asked with a certain deference towards the young man, as though he were anxious to learn something new, what was the use of a turning lathe, and a vice. He examined the mechanical and scientific appliances of his son's workshop, indeed, much as he would have examined a tomahawk or a boomerang, and was utterly unable even to commit their names to memory. He had never before inspected with attention or heard of anything useful, and now the sight and sound of objects which his son averred could be turned to some purpose, seemed to come upon him with all the effect of a pleasant surprise.

"Ah," said his Grace, with a creditable attempt to master a subject so dear to his son's mind. "Bessemer's Co. prepares iron in a different way from the puddling process. Monstrously interesting. Explain it again to Lady Overlaw, Kinsgear. It is most important to the trade and commercial interests of this country;" and, added the Duke grandly, "I give your ladyship my word that I had not the smallest idea cast-iron was made of arsenic-or arsenic of cast-iron? which is it, Kinsgear? Ah! of course; cast-iron is one of the ingredients of arsenic, and I can no longer wonder that persons in the lower classes destroy themselves by eating it."

And the young man, mystified, but pleased, told all he knew, and more, of locks and the metals of which they are made; his father and Lady

Overlaw listening to him with so much attention, that he rose greatly in his own esteem. It was, indeed, the first time his father had ever admitted him to an equality, and now all at once it seemed as if he were the greater man of the two, and his advice was asked about everything. Lady Overlaw actually solicited, with exquisite tact, his opinion about a new dinner dress, and begged him to help her design a costume for a masked ball she meant to give some day, as a novelty in London entertainments. The most edifying event of the week, however, was the solemn procession of the whole party staying at the Castle to Beaumanoir Church, where the Duke of Courthope behaved in a most exemplary manner, and pronounced the responses in his grandest voice, that every one might be convinced of the perfect propriety and orthodoxy of his religious convictions. His Grace was so good also as to explain to his son, that it was generally thought a prudent and respectable thing to go to church in the country, and that noblemen of their rank could not decently avoid doing so. Then, as they walked homewards through the park, the Duke entered upon other confidential discourse with his heir; praised himself for the improvements he had made in the property, extolled the value of land as an investment, because it was constantly rising in value, and the increased income derived from it kept pace with the growing cost of maintaining a nobleman's establishment. His Grace went into the minutest details of his affairs, explained that his expenses at Beaumanoir were just a thousand pounds a month, and that he always paid ready money for everything; which was quite true; but he did not explain how he got the ready money till Lord Kinsgear's attention was almost bewildered with the number of new notions introduced to it. It was on Tuesday morning only that his Grace touched on this subject, and then very briefly. Taking his son's arm affectionately, he leant upon it, as though he were beginning to require some support, and thus gently led or guided the young man into the library.

Lady Overlaw watched the pair as they retreated, and, being a woman of warm heart and impulsive nature, stood for a moment with her pretty face reflected with a flush on it in the looking-glass. She liked young Kinsgear as most people did and felt a generous woman's pity for the honest, confiding boy who was being made the dupe of unworthy intrigues. For a moment her lips quivered and she brushed her handkerchief with just a slight tremor over her blue eyes, but it was only an instant's emotion: "After all, it's no business of mine," she exclaimed, excitedly. "I suppose every one does the best he can for himself in these times." And she betook herself, with the philosophy of sensitive ladies, to her piano.

The Duke meantime, leading his son into his study, walked towards the letters, which lay spread out in dozens upon a massive library table; for every nobleman now-a-days is pelted day and night by missives hurled through the post. He glanced at them and took in the nature of their contents in an instant. There was nothing of consequence. A dozen hopes deferred waiting till a dozen hearts sickened. Half a dozen appliVOL. XXVIII.—NO. 166.

20.

cations for Government appointments through his Grace's influence or patronage. Petitions from clergymen for vacant livings. Here a poor relation's hungry appeal; there a woman's prayer-neither worth answering; with the usual rabble round of invitations, thanks, excuses, circulars, and letters on business, which would do itself if left alone far better than it could be done by doing it.

"By the way," said his Grace, carelessly taking up a note full of ingenious flatteries from an ardent Whig, who was fishing for an invitation to Beaumanoir, that he might advertise himself as a man of fashion in the Morning Post.-" By the way, Kinsgear, you can do me a great kindness this morning, if you are not otherwise engaged. I have to see the agent of our Irish estates, and he would hardly amuse you."

"I am ready for anything," replied the young man, "as long as my leave lasts. I have still three days more."

"The Horse Guards will grant an extension, I suppose?" asked his father, who knew very well that the military authorities would do anything which they were ordered to do by his own intimate friend the Commander-in-Chief.

"I do not like to ask for more leave," answered the conscientious officer. The other fellows don't like it, and they cry out about favouritism.

"You don't care about that," remarked his Grace, in his most magI shall nificent way. "You cannot remain to all eternity in barracks. ask Lord George to appoint you on his staff when he comes home for the command in Ireland next year. However, as you are not engaged, please take these papers for me to Mr. Skipworth Sharpe. You will find him at his office in London, and he will hand you the purchase money of the Gripwell lands, which I am glad to say I have secured, after a good deal of anxiety, and they will be to-morrow a part of the estates which will one day be yours."

"I will go at once," said Lord Kinsgear. "I can order the dogcart now, and catch the first train."

"Won't you have out the drag?" inquired the Duke, loftily. "The bay team wants exercise, and it's four longish miles through the park." "The dog-cart will go quickest, if you want me to set off at once," said the more practical young man.

"Just put your name

"As you like," replied his magnificent father. at the bottom of these papers, merely as a matter of form. You will see I have signed them myself, and so has Lord George Wyldwyl, who is of course interested in so important a purchase."

"I did not know the Indian mail was in," said Lord Kinsgear.

there any letter from Amabel?”

"These papers came by the last mail," said the Duke.

"Is

The steward and the butler were called in to witness Lord Kinsgear's signature; the young man affixed it to the papers without reading them, in a stiff, scrawly, youthful hand, and went upon his errand.

411

The French Press.

SECOND PERIOD.

REIGNS OF LOUIS XIV. AND LOUIS XV.

I.

IN treating of the French Press* during the first period of its existence, which ended with the death of Cardinal Mazarin, we showed that Parisian newspapers enjoyed full liberty during the Fronde, but abused that liberty and fell passively under police-rule again as soon as the civil war was over. These alternatives of licence and subjugation have marked the history of the French Press ever since; and we can follow no gradual development into freedom and dignity, no growing sense of the responsibilities of journalism, and no permanent decrease in the hostility of Government towards newspapers, as is the case in the Press chronicles of some other countries. The history of French journalism is indeed summed up in the adventures of divers individual journalists, some of whom have been writers of conspicuous talent and honesty, and some others, men whose brilliant, often heroic, crusades against abuses resembled the achievements of knight-errantry. But the efforts of these few have always been nullified by the ignorance and scurrilous effrontery of the many. French journalism has never been a disciplined force, but always a guerilla horde'; and for every steady marksman that stood out, there have been, from the first, a hundred senseless freebooters, who fired their shots anyhow, and were a hindrance as well as a disgrace to the causes they pretended to serve. This is so now, precisely as it was two hundred years ago; and the average French journalist of to-day is neither better taught, nor more reasonable, nor less conceited than his brother of Louis XIV.'s reign. He has even degenerated, considering the increased opportunities he has for instruction: and the early conductors of the Gazette de France, Mercure, Journal des Savants, and Journal de Paris were better acquainted with the politics and literature of foreign countries, besides being incomparably finer classics and writers of their own language, than nine-tenths of the Parisian journalists of our own time. This fact should be borne in mind, and also this other: that the material conditions of French journalism as a medium for imparting news, have altered very little in the course of two centuries, notwithstanding telegraphs and railways. Take a copy of the Evening Post of Charles II.'s

* Cornhill Magazine, June 1873.