might expect from their power of free choice; and one flower-haunting family of the same order, the Chrysidæ, are aptly compared to the humming-birds in the richness of their coloring.

One more peculiarity of great interest must also be noted. It appears that many insects have two sets of colors, seemingly for different purposes; the one set protective from the attacks of enemies, the other set attractive to their own mates. Thus several butterflies have the lower side of their wings colored like the leaves or bark on which they rest, while the upper sides are rich with crimson, orange, and gold, which gleam in the bright sunlight as they flit about among their fellows. Butterflies, of course, fold their wings with the under side outward. On the other hand, moths, which fold their wings in the op posite manner, often have their upper surfaces imitative or protective, while the lower sides are bright and beautiful. One Malayan butterfly, the Kallima paralecta, has wings of purple and orange above, but it exactly mimics dead foliage when its vans are folded; and, as it always rests among dry leaves, it can hardly be distinguished from them, as it is even apparently spotted with small fungi. In these and many other cases one cannot help believing that while imitative coloring has been.

acquired for protective purposes, the bright hues of the concealed portion must be similarly useful to the insect as a personal decoration.

It would seem, then, that we owe half the loveliest objects in our modern world to the insect color-sense. It is the bee and the butterfly which have given us the gorgeous orchids and massive creepers of the tropics, the gentians and rhododendrons of the Alps, the camellias and heathers of our conservatories, the may and primroses of our English meadows. To the same primitive taste, exerted in a slightly different direction, are due the gilded wings of Brazilian moths, and the exquisite tints of our own ruby or sapphire-colored summer insects. The beauty and the glory of the world are not for the eyes of man alone; they appeal equally to the bee and the butterfly, to the bird and the child. To some people it strangely seems a nobler belief that one animal only out of all the earth enjoys and appreciates this perpetual pageant of natural loveliness; to me it appears, on the contrary, a prettier and more modest creed, as well as a truer one, that in those higher and purer delights we are but participants with the vast mass of our humbler dumb fellow-creatures.Gentleman's Magazine.

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"JOJAKIMUS" burned the roll of Baruch; his fate was untoward. In a certain city in the year 1627 it was decreed that on a stated day the Gospels should be burned; the night before, 150 houses were in ashes on the ground. A pretty analogy; first made, for any thing I can allege, by John Christopher Becman in the Politica Parallela" of some half-century after. But not singular for between the times of "Jojakimus'' and the certain city,' and since then, there have been to the full twenty analogous cases-where the bookburner has, with profane hand, lighted the lamp of his own destruction. Yet it must not be disguised, and that not

"about the pretended loving Letter which the Empresse wrote to her Highnesse the Lady Elizabeth your Majestie's sister, Anno 1618, under the color of which Letter that horrible plot should have taken effect at Ratisbone, which was contrived at Vienna'' against the Lady Elizabeth, King James, and others. During this time he heard that there had been destroyed in Germany "above 80,000 of Martin Luther's books, entitled his last Divine Discourses. Now the affair had happened thus. Some of the princes who had seceded from the Roman Catholic faith had ordered that every parish should receive a copy of the book-the Table Talk'' so carefully collected by Lauterbach, and arranged by Aurifaberthroughout their principalities, the book to be chained and kept in memory of the Reformation. But Pope Gregory III., to prevent the effects this promised, "did fiercely stir up and instigate the Emperor, then in being, viz., Rudolphus II.," to make an edict that every copy should be burned, and that it should be death for any person to have or keep one. The edict was speedily put in execution, and with such effect that we read "not one of all the said printed books, nor so much as anie one copie of the same, could be found out, nor heard of in anie place." Now, in 1626, Caspar van Sparr (who knew Bell well) had occasion to build upon the old foundation of a house that had been occupied by his grandfather at the time of the edict, and, digging deep into the ground under the said old foundation, one of the said original printed books was there happily found, lying in a deep obscure hole, being wrapped in a strong (coarse) linen cloth, which was waxed all over with Bees' wax within and without; whereby the book was preserved fair without any blemish (though it had been hid from the knowledge of all men 52 years)." But in 1626 misfortune still threatened, for the imperial throne was filled by Ferdinand II., who was inimical enough to Protestants. So Caspar van Sparr sent it to Bell, now in England, knowing that he had the knowledge of the High Dutch tongue very perfect," and urged him forthwith to translate it. For six weeks Bell neglected the work; then

"I being in bed with my wife one night between twelve and one of the clock, she being asleep, but myself yet awake, there appeared unto me an ancient man, standing at my bed's side, arrayed all in white, having a long and broad white beard hanging down to his girdle-steed, who taking me by my right ear, spoke these words following unto me: Sirrah! Will not you take.time to translate that book which is sent unto you out of Germany? I will shortly provide for you both place and time to do it.' And then he vanished away out of my sight."

About a fortnight after this phantasmagoric visitation Captain Bell was seized at his lodging in King Street, Westminster, under warrant of the Council-board-a tendency of his to dun the Government for five thousand pounds odd, which by payment or service had become due to him, being highly disrelished. He remained a prisoner ten years. Five of these were spent in penitence for neglect of the ghostly admonition and arduous translation. Then the work of the importunate creditor got to the ears of Archbishop Laud, who borrowed the translation, and for two years forgot to return it. Eventually, in February, 1646, a rumor of it reached the Commons, who ordered it to be printed. This was done, but not for several years-not, in fact, till after Bell's death.

More heroic than this elaborate and literal burying of a treasure in a napkin are the expedients to which, under very present distress, the possessors of things worthy have resorted. Especially has there proved a savor of romance in the incongruity of pious scheming for the preservation of religious books-such scheming as that of Mrs. Schebolt, of Bohemia, who on one of the many edicts taking effect in that country for the delivery by the peasants of any Bible in their possession, consigned hers during search of the house to the central place in a batch of dough, ready for the oven, and baked it, with the effect that the heart of the crumb of the loaf has resisted age down to this day, and is enshrined in Lucas County, Ohio. But if

circulation, which after all is the ultimate end of a book, is proposed to be attained, the palm for ingenuity must be conceded to plans like Voltaire's. Badgered by M. Tronchin as the more than suspected author of the "Dictionnaire Philosophique," odious to the Genevans, he assumed horror with that remarkable work, and directed the official to be wary of the packages which should arrive at the book-stall of Chirol on a certain Monday. The packages were duly seized, and the "Dictionnaire' Dictionnaire" discovered; but, lulled into security in other directions, there passed the frontiers heavier consignments for Gando, another bibliopolist of Geneva. Indignant at this first trick, smacking of smuggling, M. Tronchin launched against Voltaire uncompromising requisition, and his work was burned by the common executioner, September 26th, 1764. The device of carrying into Geneva the most revolutionary and atheistical of matter under sanctified titles" cock titles" is the technical term of bringing ribaldry into the churches bound as the Psalms, or socialistic licentiousness into the academies of the young interleaved with the respectable platitudes of the copy-books, has an indiscriminateness in it which the breadth of and even the opposition to Voltaire, and his really pure but practically defiant resolution to propagate love of knowledge, cannot excuse. To disseminate is not to throw broadcast.

The action of Voltaire in defence of his own books reminds one of his action in defence of Clairon. This distinguished actress (to whose merits and more the philosopher was susceptible enough to write flattering verses) chose at one point of her career to respond to the unreasonable anathemas which French priests hurled at all comedians and dramatists--a practice sanctioned by the indubitable authority of the primitive Fathers of the Church-by refusal to reappear on the stage, putting forward the very logical plea that none had a right to desire her to continue her profession if she was to be damned for it. Unluckily Mademoiselle Clairon was not only the repudiated of the Church, but the servant of the king, and if constancy in playing brought her best spiritual interests into jeopardy,

declining to play brought her body to prison. Now this penalty of reticence became very sensible to the palpable part of her, when that palpable part was placed in the Bastille; and on the king's shortly ordering the players to come to Versailles, and Clairon being specified among those who were to go, her duty to her sovereign, which was clear, no longer suffered her to argue the priestly point, which was not. But the fracas was too brisk and too pretty to be thus spent, so against the holy thunderings from the episcopal hillocks of France out came a treatise proving from the laws and constitutions of the temporal kingdom that comedians had an irrefragable claim to all the privileges and immunities of their country equally with all other citizens. This pamphlet had no sooner made its appearance but, like an arch-heretic, it was seized on and condemned to be burned in the Placede-Grève by the hands of the common hangman. And the martyrdom of that piece was a palingenesis in the form of a printed controversy between the "Intendant des Menus," or Master of the King's Revels, as advocate for the stage, and the Abbé Grizel as counsel for the Church. Of this the author was undoubtedly Voltaire. It is curious to observe how, just about a century and a half before, a more direct struggle. between clergy and parliament had taken place in France respecting the censure of two anonymous works, Admonitio ad Regem" and "Mysteria Politica, of which Barthélemi de Grammont says the record was not kept ne ejus controversia memoria transiret ad posteros.'

But ends more tragic than the conflagration of pamphlets amid the bavins of bigots have transpired in the annals of the suppression of books. The career of Antonio de Dominis gives a case in point. Born in 1556, he had risen with tolerable rapidity to the Archbishopric of Spalatro, a post which in reality conferred the primacy of Dalmatia and Croatia. While acting in this high office he formed a friendship with Bishop Bedell, who was then chaplain to Sir Henry Wotton, Ambassador from the Court of James I. in the city of Venice. The friendship grew very firm, and the persecuted Paul Sarpi (not less unfortu

nate than Fulgentio) made up afterward a progressive triumvirate. Under the influence of these men Spalatro became convinced that the Church of England approached far more nearly to the purity of creed and worship of the Bible than did the Church of Rome. Accordingly, after fourteen years' research, he avowed his conviction, and set his seal to his deed by flight from Venice and Dalmatia. His last step was soon justified the great work, "De Republica Ecclesiastica," in which he had embodied the results of the labors of a decade, being decreed, even before it was completely ready, together with his printed confession, as unfit even for the hands of papal Bishops, presumably because, less pure than light, which flings itself untainted through the foulest mires, they might haply be contaminated. Ensconced at the Hague, where Sir Dudley Carleton temporarily stayed his wants, neither did this fulmination, nor that of the Sorbonne, which limited its censure to the first four books of the "De Republica Ecclesiastica," greatly alarm the fugitive Bishop. But he presently sped his way to England, and on December 16th, 1616, scarcely forty days after the decree, was received on these shores with clamatory joy. More substantial were the profits to which his appointment within a few months to the Deanery of Windsor, the Mastership of Savoy, and the Rectorship of West Ilsley, in Berkshire, appeared to point; and little seemed left for hope to do when the embrace of a scheme he had been quick to concoct for reconciling England and Rome proved wide, rapid, and influential. But this happy commencement was broken in upon by the wiles of Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador. Taking advantage of some slight disorder into which De Dominis incautiously brought himself by dealings with his tenants, he sought to inflame King James's mind against him, and at the same time to urge the Dean of Windsor to seek higher preferment. A report of the Archbishop of York's death was issued-perfectly false-application for the dignity incontinently made and coldly received. The effect of this was that James became interested in seeing whether the man he had protected was or was not a real convert. His interest

On

was falsely satisfied. By infinite cunning Gondomar obtained from Rome a pardon and a promise of a cardinal's hat as the price of reconciliation to Rome to be acknowledged by De Dominis; squeezed from De Dominis, on whose mind mind he patiently and insidiously wrought, a recantation; and placed the documentary evidence of his double triumph before the King. Four days later, on January 16th, 1621, the Dean of Windsor himself sought permission to depart from the kingdom. On the 21st he had a conversation with several divines of the Church of England, stating sincerely his belief that both Churches were true, though in each was something erroneous, and volunteering urgently his best influence at Rome for temporal peace. The upshot was that James did not grant his permission, but issued his command that the Dean should leave the kingdom within twenty days. Then came the bitter part. his return to Rome he found he had been a dupe. His name was used for. all sorts of publications against the Church of England; his experience alleged to prove the rottenness of heresies from their odious fruits. Yet with his own voice he firmly endeavored to overtop the hurricane of obloquy by proclaiming that but for the doctrine of transubstantiation the Churches might be reconciled. Here was the opportunity for his long-determined downfall. He was imprisoned in the Castle of St. Angelo, where he died, "not without suspicion of murder or poison." Being dead, a definitive sentence was passed upon him. He was declared unworthy of the favor of the Holy See Apostolic ; was deprived of all honor, benefit, or dignity; was confiscated of his goods; and was given over to the secular powers, that he and his picture, together with the books he had written, should be burned. He was accordingly placed in a well-pitched coffin, and that in a greater, was then recognized" and carried to the Church of Minerva, where he was laid upon the table in an eminent place, with the portrait and a little sacke full of books which he had printed." The body and its strange accompaniments were burned in the Campo di Fiori.

Witness Gregorio Leti, Antonio de

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Dominis is not the only foreigner who has found British protection-uninjured bulwark though that may be a screen whose further side has hedged the bloodier field. Not that there was anything very disastrous in Leti's end. In deed his whole life was rather comical. Disgusted with the religion of his parents, because on confessing to some gallantry he was ordered to eat, or at least to chew, seven stalks of straw-a subtle association-he took to Calvinism at Geneva, and carried it with him about 1680 to England. Charles II. made him a present, and promised him the place of historiographer. Thereupon he set to work at a history of England, twelve hours during three days of the week, and six hours during the others. When his book was done, the king graciously sat up on successive nights to be read to; but, shocked at several passages, he so instructed the Council that all the copies were ordered to be seized, and Leti warned to quit the kingdom in six days. He went to Amsterdam, and though his entire works were, on December 22d, 1700, condemned at Rome, and trouble was threatened respecting certain letters on lotteries, he lived to the age of seventyone-not a more thrilling fate than so very untrustworthy an historian deserved.

It cannot of course be contended that inaccuracy had much to do with the persecution of Leti. It certainly had nothing to do with that of Michele Amari, whose interesting case brings us to times much more recent than we have yet contemplated. Led by a stimulus distinctly revolutionary, he commenced in 1836 a work upon the Sicilian Vespers. In the progress of the work the true historic spirit was soon substituted for any propagandism, so that by April, 1842, there was published at Palermo a history sound, laborious, and brilliant. But no amount of reserve in expression of sympathy could cover the parallelism presented by ancient and modern events, or could disguise the resemblance borne by Charles of Anjou to Ferdinand II. After six months' dreaminess and strenuous exertion to believe in its own impeccability the Government accordingly stirred. The book was prohibited. The censors

who had neglected to stop it in the press were turned out of office. The Sicilian r publisher, condemned on a false charge of clandestine printing, was exiled to the island of Ponza. Five journals which had noticed the work were suppressed. Finally the author was summoned to Naples" to be interrogated.' Foreseeing the result of a catechism to be conducted by Del Carretto, who was known to recognize his features in William l'Estendard, and to be controlled by a sovereign who saw himself aimed at (as already said) in the delineation of Charles of Anjou, Amari embarkednot for Naples, but for France.

The

Ah! what sorrow mates with Revolution? Compassion lingers perhaps less with Amari than with his associates. Yet sorrow does not mate with Revolution. It only gathers in its trail. turning wheel of politics jars the social gear, and bruises the climbers along the length of the roughened surface. Revolution's child is Horror; and Horror cannot mate. It is aloof. The white hand is uplifted-only the red hand grasps. Those that cling to the very wheel of politics-whose hearts do not know their faintness, whose hands feel not they have clutched with strength of numbness, not of will-are flung into immensity. There is no trail; but there is abrupt relief. One force prevails. A shock to impetus proceeds often from the power that loves to give an impetus; the grotesque combats with the terrific; to herald and stem there is potency in caricature.

It is not, then, so much because tension craves to be relaxed, as because passions are then capable-for riot of mirth, or riot of wrath-that comicalities profusely spread the paths of agitation and of war. This is scarcely the burden that seems to be borne by the troubles of Thomas Spence, but it has been suggested, and can too broadly