Then and Now.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIV, Issue 1, 5 January 1910, Page 52

Then and Now.

In France, when a journalist is sent to prison for libel, or for having insulted the Army, or the Judges, or the police, he is not treated like an ordinary mortal. His offence being what is called a “delit de presse,” he is deprived of his liberty, but otherwise can do whatever he likes whilst under lock and key. He may invite as many friends as he likes to dinner or luncheon, and have his food brought in from any restaurant he likes—at his own expense, of course. But even these prerogatives are not deemed sufficient; for a M. Huguenin, a pressman, has made an angry complaint against the prison officials beea-use they did not treat him with sufficient civility. Customs have changed indeed! There was a time in France when the profession of journalist was more dangerous to life and limb than that of an aeropianist. The first Napoleon hated pressmen; and, as to Louis XIV., he dealt very summarily with them. One day a paper was started, and before the first number had appeared, His Majesty—as a precautionary measure — gave orders to incarcerate the whole editorial staff in the Bastille. This staff—to judge from the names that have come down to us—was indeed a curious one. On that list we find:’ Leclerc, a fruiterer; Delepine and Guerinon, priests; Pradier, process-serv-er; Louis Lecomie, tutler; A . th’e i barrister; Lamy, eating-house-keeper; and Dupre and Parfait, described as “servants.” although in those days the

word servant did not always imply a menial. His Majesty always claimed the right to confiscate the journalists’ goods; but as these gentlemen werw rarely or ever favoured with earthly possessions, His Majesty let them rot in prison.