chiefs of states. And yet, simple as this first category of royal substantives appears to be, it includes so many various designations of sovereignty that it would be difficult to compose an absolutely complete enumeration of all the shapes of rulership that the world has known. Pope has stood first so long that we may put it first once more, though it was not until the fifth century that it became the particular attribute of the Bishop of Rome, who, so far, had been called Summus Pontifex: it appears to have been attributed to him by the Concile of Toledo in the year 400. Emperor and King are both older, especially the latter; but Emperor naturally heads the catalogue of pride, for no other title has stood so high in history, no other sound brings back to us as that one does the memory of Rome, of Charlemagne, of Napoleon. And yet this very title disappeared in western Europe in 476, and remained unknown from that time until the new conqueror revived it on Christmas-day 800. It existed meanwhile in Constantinople, it is true; but that is no argument in the case, for the schismatic Eastern emperor never counted in the Catholic world. And then we get to King, the universal King, which has lasted from all time without even a change beyond that of literal translation from one language to another; the rank that has been so longlived that the Radicals must sometimes ask themselves with perplexity how they are to succeed in finally suppressing so tough an institution, and must wish for more years like 1870, which proved again the truth of Voltaire's saying that "offensive wars make kings, defensive wars make republics." It has indeed been immensely and persistently employed. Its originator can scarcely have suspected, when he set the

first example of it, that he was establishing the most durable of human grades, and that, after him, the earth would behold more kings than the stars we see on a frosty night. (Lest the exactness of this comparison should be disputed, let it at once be observed that, in our latitude, only 4200 stars are visible to the naked eye, and that there have been vastly more kings than that.) Hierarchically the next place belongs to Grand Duke, a designation which was first conceived at Moscow, but which was acclimatised in southern Europe in 1569, when Pius V. bestowed it on Cosmo de Medicis. But though Tuscany was the first land to own it, Germany only has preserved it, the seven Grand Duchies still extant being all beyond the Rhine. Then appears Elector, a name full of memories of pride and strife, a name which tells the whole history of central Europe for four centuries. But Elector has not enjoyed the vitality of King; the seven great Electorates that were created by the Golden Bull in 1356, "the seven lamps of the Holy Roman Empire"which, to quote Voltaire once more,

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was neither holy nor Roman". have now dwindled down to one little shadow of their former name. The Prince Bishops of Mayence, Trêves, and Cologne, the Bavarian Duke, the Chiefs of Saxony, the Palatinate, and Brandenburg, are represented now, alas, by the Elector of Hesse Cassel! This is a fall indeed. That the emperor-makers of the middle ages should (except the bishops) have ended by becoming kings themselves, was natural enough in the times through which they passed; that these great chieftains who had held hereditarily between them the charges of ArchChancellors of Germany, the Gauls, and Italy-of Grand Steward, Grand Equerry, Arch - Marshal, Arch

Chamberlain, and Arch - Treasurer of the Empire-should have struggled higher still, was but a consequence of their nature which was human, though Electoral; but that the grand title of Elector, abandoned by the warrior-priests and warriorprinces who had borne it with savage pride for four hundred and fifty years, should be picked up, appropriated, and retained by the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, is one of those absurd incongruities of history which offend our reason and revolt our imagination. We get next to Duke, which ceased to be an independent sovereign title under Louis XII. in France, and disappeared in Germany (except in Nassau) at the commencement of the present century, with Palatine, Margrave, Burgrave, Rhingrave, Wildgrave, and Altgrave. Landgrave alone, of all the old Teutonic titles, is still kept up by the rulers of Hesse Homburg; and it is as well that it should be preserved, for it is the most ancient of all the special German names. It was invented so long ago as 1130, by Louis, third Count of Thuringia, who adopted it in order to distinguish himself from the crowd of Counts around him. The idea was evidently admired by his colleagues; for Thierry, Count of Lower Alsace, appropriated the same denomination seven years afterwards, and Albert of Hapsburg, Count of Higher Alsace, followed the example in 1186. These were the three real Landgraves, the only ones that were recognised as original by the Empire; all the others were imitations. Margrave was a more modern title; it was limited to the four rulers of the Marches of Brandenburg, Meissen, Baden, and Moravia. We may take Doge next, with its memories of Genoa and Venice; and Protector, which Napoleon renewed from Cromwell when he formed the Confederation of the Rhine. Stadtholder

and Viceroy wake up very different recollections: one carries us to the chilly shores of Holland, the other to the bright skies of Naples, India, and Peru. Voivode, like Palatine, was also a viceroy's title; but the former was Sclavonic, the latter German. Czar we will look at by itself, and Hospodar is almost the only remaining title which is worth mentioning; for we need not expatiate on the Bans of the Eastern Marches, though the name exists. still in Croatia. Sultan must be counted as Asiatic, for it was first adopted by Bajazet; and with it comes the old name Caliph, which means "substitute," and was originally attributed to the successors of Mahomet; but the Caliphates of Bagdad, Fez, Grenada, Egypt, Morocco, and Tunis, have all become successively extinct, and their rights are concentrated in the Sultan of Turkey, who is now sole Caliph, and thereby Commander of the Faithful. Of Shahs there is but one, though there are three Khans (Khiva, Khokand, and Boukhara), two Imauns (Yeman and Muscat), two Regents (Tripoli and Tunis). Bey, or Beg, has now disappeared; but that it was once a higher name than Sultan is shown by the fact that it was preferred to the latter by Thogrul, founder of the dynasty of the Seleucides. Sheikh belongs particularly to the Governor of Madina, and is otherwise a mere village chieftain's name. Pasha is now replaced in Egypt by Khedive. And there we may end the list, though it is very far from being exhausted. It may, however, be as well to allude to Emir, and to add that, strictly, it is a description, not a title it is the name borne by the descendants of the Prophet, who are found in every class of Arab and Turkish society, particularly amongst the beggars. The peculiarity about their situation is, that

to be an Emir because your father was one is considered to be very insufficient evidence of your right to claim the rank; to be so in virtue of your mother is infinitely more conclusive; but to be so on both sides, is altogether satisfactory. The one privilege of Emirs is, that they are the only people who can wear green turbans; and as the Sultanalthough he is now Caliph-is not of the blood of the Prophet, such of his Ministers as are Emirs courteously abstain from green in his presence, so as not to remind him of his inferiority. Emir has, however, been sometimes deviated from its true meaning, and has been applied as a material title to people in authority; for instance, Abd-elKader took it, though he was but a simple Sheikh.

This enumeration of the best known amongst the titles of dignity is, however, of but small interest. That certain names should exist in certain countries as designations of their leader, is a fact which we may regard as historical or geographical or linguistic, according to our fancies: the real essence of the matter is not there; it lies, from the point of view where we are placing ourselves here, in the degree of right which each sovereign has to bear and hold the title which he may select. The history of the assumption of new titles is a very large one: it includes a singular variety of extensions, augmentations, adaptations, and usurpations-so many, indeed, that they cannot all be counted. History is full of battles which have been fought for titles; and though we have grown so careless about them now that we allow monarchs to change their names pretty nearly as they please, the process was not so easy in former times. When Christina of Sweden had herself crowned King (not Queen) no serious objection was made, because the matter was

regarded by the powers as local and exceptional; just as nobody said a word when Madame de Guébriant was appointed Ambassador of France, when the Countess of Pembroke served as Sheriff of Westmoreland, and when the Shah of Persia sent a feminine negotiator to make peace for him with the Grand Seigneur. But in cases of male nominations to new titles, governments used to be less courteous and more exacting. It is only of late years that they have grown indifferent, luckily for the five empires and the five kingdoms which have sprung up this century, and which have consequently been received with a bland politeness which showed that they provoked no emotion (with the one exception of the first Napoleon). The last two great king-makings, in 1806 and 1815, were effected by the masters of Europe, and therefore could provoke no hostility; but the isolated cases of Brazil, of Louis Philippe, of Napoleon III., of Italy and Mexico, were all of the very kind which used to cause bitter opposition in other days, and yet not a word was said about them, other than-"Certainly-just as you please; we are all quite content." The same calm silence reigned when the empire of Germany shrivelled into Austria; when the chiefs of Saxony, Wurtemberg, and Bavaria put on royal crowns; when Baden and Hesse Darmstadt became Grand Duchies. No one raised a finger then, and it was considered to be quite natural that the Congress of Vienna should confirm those changes, should add Hanover to the list of thrones, and Mecklenburg to the Duchies, and should bestow the title of King of Poland on the Czar. But notwithstanding this generous liberality of disposition, the plenipotentiaries of Europe refused to grant the prayer of that insatiable Elector of Hesse Cassel, who, not content

with the new Electorate that he had invented ten years before, came up again respectfully and said, "Please, gentlemen, do let me be a king too, like my neighbours." At Aix-laChapelle, in October 1818, they rejected his pitiful demand, and, at the same time, they once more proclaimed the right of every power to exercise supervision over the titles of the others. This is how they answered that lamentable Elector: "Les Cabinets déclarent que, attendu que la demande de S. A. R. l'Electeur de Hesse n'est justifiée par aucun motif suffisant, il n'y a rien qui puisse les engager à y satisfaire. Les Cabinets prennent en même temps l'engagement de ne reconnaitre, à l'avenir, aucun changement ni dans les titres des souverains ni dans ceux des princes de leurs maisons, sans en être préalablement

convenus entre eux."

This example shows that, after all, the line really is drawn somewhere even now; and that, notwithstanding the degenerated principles of our epoch, it is not yet possible for everybody to create himself a king. But to obtain a clearer idea of the trouble there was in former times to get leave to change a title, we must go back to the establishment of the kingdom of Prussia, and still more, to the assumption of the style of Emperor by the Czar of Russia. When Frederic III. appointed himself king, he asked leave privately from the Emperor beforehand, (how little that Emperor knew what a serpent he was warming in his bosom!) and consequently got recognised without much trouble by the other powers. But the Russian story is far more complicated: it is the best example we possess of the contentions which once existed about titles; it is therefore worth telling in some detail.

The original denominations of the Muscovite sovereign were Autocrat

(which was borrowed from the Greek Emperors), Great Lord, Grand Duke, and Czar. This last designation was an old one: it was first given to Duke Wladimir, who died in 1125, and some of his successors partially retained it; but, all the same, the Russian rulers continued to be called Grand Dukes till the sixteenth century. In 1547, Ivan II. was crowned as Czar of Moscow, and that title was retained until, after the conquest of Little Russia and Smolensk, they became Czars of All the Russias (Great, Little, New, Black, Red, White, and Southern Russias). During the next century they began to call themselves Imperator, in the Latin translations of the documents which they addressed to other powers. The Emperor of Germany, Leopold L., was, however, so offended by this assumption of a title which he considered to be his personal monopoly, that he wrote to Peter, in 1687, to declare that he would send back all letters containing this most reprehensibly presumptuous audacity. Peter, however, persisted; and in 1721, after his victory at Pultava over Charles XII., the title of Emperor of All the Russias was officially conferred upon him by the Russian Senate and the Holy Synod. Queen Anne of England immediately recognised the new appellation, and called Peter by the name of Emperor, in a letter which she wrote to him that same year, with her excuses for an attack which had been made on the Russian envoy in London. Prussia also, of course, acquiesced in the change, for her own royalty was too recent to allow her to make difficulties with others. Sweden followed in 1723; Venice in 1726; Denmark in 1732; Turkey engaged in 1741 to give the title of Empress to Elizabeth, who had just become Czarina; even the Emperor of Germany recognised the

Russian empire in 1744. Finally, the Courts of France and Spain consented, in 1745, to treat Elizabeth as Empress, on condition of receiving a lettre réversale, stipulating that the Imperial title should cause no change in the ceremonial then existing between the two Courts. But when Peter III. succeeded to Elizabeth in January 1762, France wrote to him simply as Majesté Czarienne, and claimed another rérersale before she would call him Emperor. A curious correspondence took place between the Russian ambassador at Versailles and the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, but the Russian Government gave way and granted the reversale. The same difficulty arose again six months later when Catherine took the place of Peter, for France then claimed a third réversale. Catherine was not the woman to stand this sort of worry; but even she yielded somewhat to the spirit of the time, and authorised her Minister Gallitzin to communicate the following declaration to all the ambassadors resident at St Petersburg: "The title of Imperial which Peter the Great, of glorious memory, took, or rather renewed, for himself and his successors, has long been the property of both the Sovereigns and the crown and monarchy of All the Russias. Her Imperial Majesty considers that it would be contrary to the stability of this principle to renew the réversales which were given when this title was first recognised. Conformably with this sentiment, her Imperial Majesty orders the Minister to make this general declaration, that the title of Imperial having been once attached to the crown and monarchy of Russia, and perpetuated during several years and successions, neither she nor her successors for ever can renew the réversales; and, still less, keep up any correspondence with powers who refuse to

recognise the Imperial title in the person of the Sovereigns of All the Russias, as well as in their crown and monarchy. And in order that this declaration may put an end, once for all, to any difficulties in a matter where none ought to exist, her Imperial Majesty, respecting the declaration of Peter the Great, declares that the title of Imperial shall introduce no change in the ceremonial employed between the Courts, which shall remain on its former footing.-Moscow, 21st Nov. 1762." The French Court considered this declaration to be far too haughty; so it put in the following counter-declaration, which expresses, in singularly clear language, the theory then existing: "Titles are nothing by themselves. They are only real provided they are recognised; and their value depends on the idea which is attached to them, and on the extent which is accorded to them, by those who have the right to admit them, to reject them, or to limit them. Sovereigns cannot attribute titles to themselves by their own choice; the consent of their subjects does not suffice-that of other powers is necessary; and every Crown being free to recognise or to reject a new title, may also admit it with the modifications and conditions which may satisfy it. According to this principle, Peter the First and his successors, down to the Empress Elizabeth, have never been known in France otherwise than by the name of Czar. That princess was the first to whom the king granted the Imperial title; but on the express condition that this title should in no way prejudice the ceremonial employed between the two Courts. . . . The king, animated by the same sentiments toward the Empress Catherine, does not hesitate to grant the title of Imperial; . . . but if any pretension were ever raised contrary to the usages constantly