After the middle of the eighteenth century, in almost all Catholic countries, the civil power usurped the monopoly of proscribing books, and practiced it in a truly despotic way. Thus in Austria 639 books were forbidden within five years. No book was allowed to be printed without _previous_ permission, not even on forestry or cattle-raising. Bishops were severely reproved for enforcing the prohibitions of the Roman Index in their seminaries. _Napoleon I_ had a publisher shot, practically without trial, for issuing a work contrary to his political plans. One book was publicly burned because it contained the picture of Pius VII. To enable the authorities to control the book trade more effectively, no printing establishment was allowed to have, in Paris more than four, and in the provinces more than two, presses. Needless to remark, the civil authorities _have_ the right to prohibit books that seriously endanger the common welfare. If they use this right in a reasonable way, their measures are likely to bring about good and prevent evil. We all have occasional opportunities to observe this in the measures taken against immoral literature by the police or the post-office department. H. Some Examples of Submission to the Index. The first Roman Index, that of 1559, was considered rather severe. One of the influential men who tried hard to have its provisions softened, was _Blessed Peter Canisius_, the “Second Apostle of Germany.” Yet the very letters he wrote to Rome for this purpose show that he scrupulously observed all the regulations, though he himself, called the “Hammer of Heretics,” surely incurred little personal risk by reading forbidden books. About 1698, a book by _Archbishop Fénelon_ was under investigation at Rome. Fénelon was a great scholar and one of the greatest preachers of all centuries, but he was also a loyal son of the Church. He knew a condemnation of his book would mean his own condemnation in the eyes of Catholic France. His friends as well as his antagonists were eagerly awaiting Rome’s decision on one of the great churchman’s books. At last the verdict was pronounced in the most solemn way by the Pope himself, and it was a condemnation. Fénelon was just ascending his pulpit, March 25, 1699, when his brother broke the news to him. The great Archbishop at once proceeded to read to his own flock the papal document and preached an eloquent sermon on the obedience every Christian owes to his superiors. We can imagine what a profound impression his words must have made. His was a truly heroic example of self-abnegation.