A Printer-Martyr.

Rome has honored herself by erecting a statue to the martyred philosopher Bruno, and Paris—in the beautiful monument to Étienne Dolet, erected by the municipality of the city in the Place Maubert, the scene of his martyrdom in 1546—has given Europe another valuable object-lesson. Our excellent Lyons contemporary, l'lntermédiare, of 15th May, contains a very interesting account of this worthy printer and accomplished scholar, illustrated with five engravings, showing the statue of Dolet, his emblem, and three bas-reliefs from the pedestal of the statue. The execution of the monument, which is a fine work of art, was entrusted to M. Guilbert. The career of Dolet is one of special interest to the Craft, as he takes a high rank among the printers of the sixteenth century. He was born at Orleans, in 1509, and received his early education in Paris. From thence he went to Padua, where he became a favorite pupil of Simon de Villeneuve, after whose death he engaged as private secretary to the French ambassador to the republic of Venice. Here he diligently pursued his favorite study of the classics, and collected many valuable Mss. in the dead languages with a view to publication. At Toulouse he took up the study of jurisprudence and the belles lettres, and in his capacity as president of a literary society incurred the implacable hatred of the priests. His life was more than once attempted, and at Lyons, in defending himself, he killed his antagonist. His enemies now imagined that he was completely in their power, but he went to Paris and laid the matter before Francis I, who after examining into the circumstances, granted him a free pardon. He returned to Lyons, and entered into business as printer and bookseller, publishing many valuable classics. He was, however, narrowly watched, and the opportunity so long sought came at last-The charge against him is almost incredibly trivial, and shows the microscopic scrutiny exercised by the spies of the Inquisition. He had published an edition of Plato, in which, on the subject of the immortality of the soul, appeared these words: « après la mort, tu ne seras plus rien du tout. » A charge of atheism was at once laid against him, notwithstanding that he had never in any way broken with the church. But all printers were at that time obnoxious to the priesthood, who claimed the monopoly of public instruction. Seven years earlier the illustrious Robert Estienne had to flee to Geneva, his Bible having been condemned by the doctors of the Sorbonne. The Paris Faculty of Theology decided that the passage in Dolet's Plato was heretical, damnable, and conformable to the spirit of the Saddu-cees and Epicureans. To condemn the printer for what Plato had written was, however, too monstrous; so with diabolical ingenuity, they fixed upon him a charge of perverting the passage, alleging that the three words « rien du tout » (which, by the way, do not affect the sense except to make it more emphatic) were not warranted by any Greek or Latin text. As an athée relaps, he was therefore condemned to be hanged and burned. The king would fain have saved so dis_ tinguished a scholar, but the civil power, which could successfully intervene in a case of homicide, was powerless in a case of heresy to snatch the prey from the wolves of the Inquisition. M. Guilbert's statue represents the martyr with his hands bound, the attitude noble and dignified. Two beautiful bas-reliefs at the base represent his arrest, where he is torn from the arms of his family, and his torture, in which he is seen suspended by the neck over a fire of fagots, upon which his books have been thrown. Three hundred and forty years have secured the liberty of thought and speech for which men like Bruno and Dolet laid down their lives, and the « damnable heretics » who were tortured to death are now on the world's roll of honor. But the spirit of religious intolerance is unchanged, and would revel as of old in blood and fire but for the salutary restraints of the civil authority. And monumental works like those erected this year in Rome and Paris have an educational value that can scarcely be overestimated.

For humanity sweeps onward; where to-day the martyr stands,
On the mo row crouches Judas with the silver in his hands;
Far in front the cross stands ready and the crackling fagots burn,
While the hooting mob of yesterday in silent awe return
To glean up the scattered ashes into History's golden urn.