during all this period. Scotland appeared in the field with a
_Mercurius Politicus_, published at Leith in 1653. This, however, was
nothing but a reprint of a London news sheet, and probably owed its
existence to the presence of Cromwell's soldiers. In 1654 it removed to
Edinburgh, and in 1660 changed its denomination to _Mercurius Publicus_.
On the last day of this year, too, a journal of native growth budded
forth, with the title of _Mercurius Caledonius_. But the canny Scots
either could not or would not spare their bawbees for the encouragement
of such ephemeral literature, for Chalmers tells us that only ten
numbers of this publication appeared, and they were 'very loyal, very
illiterate, and very affected.' Dublin appears to have produced a
_Dublin News Letter_ in 1685, but little is known about it, and its very
existence has been disputed. There were other sheets with Scotch and
Irish titles, but they were all printed in London. With 1688 a new era
dawned upon the press--the most promising it had yet seen--and
newspapers gradually sprang up all over the kingdom.

The first that came out in the interests of the new Government were the
_Orange Intelligencer_ and the _Orange Gazette_. The opponents of the
ministry also started organs of their own, and the paper warfare went
gayly on, but with more decency and courtesy than heretofore. William
did not show himself disposed to hamper the press in any way, but
Parliament, in 1694, proved its hostility by an ordinance 'that no
news-letter writers do, in their letters or other papers that they
disperse, presume to intermeddle with the debates or other proceedings
of this House.' This was only a momentary ebullition of spleen. The
licensing act, which expired in 1692, had been renewed for one year,
but at the end of that period disappeared forever from English
legislation. The House of Lords--obstructive as usual to all real
progress--endeavored to revive it, but the Commons refused their
consent, and a second attempt in 1697 met with a like defeat. This
obstacle being happily got rid of, new journals of all kinds arose every
day. One was called _The Ladies' Mercury_; a second, _The London
Mercury_, _or_ _Mercure de Londres_, and was printed in parallel English
and French columns. A third was entitled _Mercurios Reformatus_, and
was, during a portion of its existence, edited by the famous Bishop
Burnet. Some were half written and half printed. One of these, the
_Flying P