olerance has, as all the world knows, been a
terrible enemy to literature, not only by absolute suppression, but by
the restraints of the licenser. So little was literary freedom indeed
understood anywhere until recent days, that it was only by an accident
after the Revolution that the licensing of books was abolished in
England. The new licenser, Edmond Bohun, happened in fact to be a
Jacobite, and though he professed to conform to the Revolution
Settlement, his sympathies with the exiled house disabled him from
detecting disaffection skilfully smothered, and the House of Commons, in
a rage, abolished his office by refusing to renew the Licensing Act. Of
the extent to which literature has suffered by suppression, there are no
data for a precise estimate. It might bring out some curious results,
however, were any investigator to tell us of the books which had been
effectually put down after being in existence. It would of course be
found that the weak were crushed, while the strong flourished. Among the
valuable bibliographical works of Peignot, is a dictionary of books
which have been condemned to the flames, suppressed, or censured. We do
not require to go far through his alphabet to see how futile the
burnings and condemnations have been in their effect on the giants of
literature. The first name of all is that of Abelard, and so going on we
pick up the witty scamp Aretin, then pass on to D'Aubigne the great
warrior and historian, Bayle, Beaumarchais, Boulanger, Catullus,
Charron, Condillac, Crebillon, and so on, down to Voltaire and Wicliffe.

Wars and revolutions have of course done their natural work on many
libraries, yet the mischief effected by them has often been more visible
than real, since they have tended rather to dispersion than destruction.
The total loss to literature by the dispersion of the libraries of the
monastic establishments in England, is probably not nearly so great as
that which has accompanied the chronic mouldering away of the treasures
preserved so obstinately by the lazy monks of the Levant, who were found
by Mr Curzon at their public devotions laying down priceless volumes
which they could not read, to protect their dirty feet from the cold
floor. In the wildest times the book repository often partakes in the
good fortune of the humble student whom the storm passes over. In the
hour of danger, too, some friend who keeps a quiet eye upon its safety
may interpose at the critical moment. Th