Jules de la Vaguère dè Bissac was the first of his family to bear that ancient name, but not the least worthy. Born on a Transatlantic in the port of Hamburg, his first experience of life had been given him in the busy competition of New York. It was there that he acquired the rapid glance, the grasp, the hard business head which carried him from Buenos Ayres to Amsterdam, and finally to a fortune. His wealth he spent in the entertainment of his numerous friends, in the furtherance of just aims in politics (to which alas! the rich in France do not subscribe as they should), to the publication of sound views in the press, and occasionally (for old habit is second nature[80]), in the promotion of some industrial concern destined to benefit his country and the world.[81] With transactions, however sound and honest, that savoured of mere speculation De Bissac would have nothing to do, and when his uncle and brother fled the country in 1887, he helped, indeed, with his purse but he was never heard to excuse or even to mention the poor, fallen men. His hotel in the Rue des Fortifications (a modest but coquettish little gem, whose doors were bronze copies of the famous gates of the Baptistery at Florence), had often received Mr. Lambkin and a happy circle of friends. Judge then of the horror and indignation with which Oxford heard that two of its beautiful windows had been intentionally broken on the night of June 15th, 1896. The famous figure of “Mercy,” taken from the stained glass at Rheims, was destroyed and one of the stones had fallen on the floor within an inch of a priceless Sèvres vase that had once belonged to Law and had been bought from M. Panama. It was on the occasion of this abominable outrage that Mr. Lambkin sent the following letter, which, as it was published in the _Horreur_, I make no scruple of reprinting. But, for the sake of the historical interest it possesses, I give it in its original form:-- “CHER AMI ET MONSIEUR, Je n’ai pas de doute que vous aurez souvenu votre visite à Oxford, car je suis bien sur que je souviens ma visite à Paris, quand je fus recu avec tant de bienveillance par vous et votre aimable famille. Vous aurez donc immediatement après l’accident pensé à nous car vous aurez su que nous étions, moi et Bilkin, vos amis sincerès surtout dans la politique. Nous avons expecté quelque chose pareille et nous comprenons bien pourquoi c’est le mauvais Durand qui a jété les pierres. Vous avez été trop bon pour cet homme là. Souvenez-vous en future que c’est exactement ceux à qui nous pretons de l’argent et devraient être dévoués à nous, qui deviennent des ennemis. Voilà ce qui empêche si souvent de faire du bien excepté à ceux qui nous seront fideles et doux. (_All this, being of a private nature, was not printed in M. de Bissac’s paper. The public portion follows._)