was used, which represented the Emperor, and his departed friend, Henry V., with the infant king on his knees before him, holding in his hands a ballad against the Lollards. And, finally, when Sigismund died, on the 9th of December, 1437, masses for the repose of his soul were, by royal command, read in all the churches of England; and Henry VI., in person, surrounded by the great officers of the crown, attended these solemn services for the dead at St. Paul's; while the garter, which Sigismund had received, was transferred to the Grand Duke Albert of Austria, his son-in-law, and successor in the empire. About the period when the house of Luxemburg ceased to bear the imperial diadem, we begin to note the first traces of the downfall of the Lancastrians. Thus similar tendencies are met with in the characters of princes, who exhibit very few other evidences of mutual affinity, and thus at some one moment of their lives an indelible character is impressed on their union which may for generations influence the fate of their dynasties.

X.

THE MAID OF ORLEANS.

HISTORY presents certain periods of transition, during which a long established order of things passes away and disappears almost before another has begun to dawn. In this struggle between the old and the new elements, we often notice special phenomena, which are peculiar not only to individuals, but to the circumstances surrounding them, and to which there attaches a charm of novelty, which from their isolation in regard to other things, seems to impart to them an almost miraculous character. The fifteenth century was an epoch of this kind, when the middle ages had not yet wholly past away, and the modern world had not fully dawned. Many of the special supports which for centuries together had upheld the structure of the Church and State, had indeed long since grown rotten, threatening to fall to pieces on the first vigorous assault of that new force' which was infusing a fresh spirit into the secular as well as the ecclesiastical system; but the germ that had been planted amid the mouldering remains of the past, had not yet attained sufficient vigour to replace the growth that had been matured by the culture of the middle ages.

In Germany there reigned an emperor, who, however insignificant his power might be, was still able to withhold from the princes of the empire the full rights of sovereignty which they were striving to wrench from him. In England the monarch still considered himself able to maintain undivided sovereignty, although the two houses of parliament were conjoined with him in the administration under the same forms which they now present. The pope, as the supreme head of the one undivided Church of western Christendom, still claimed the long undisputed obedience of all the kingdoms of the west, although their rulers would no longer permit the ancient streams of their national wealth to be poured, as in bygone days, into the coffers of Rome. This opposition was supported by a spiritual party, which, disregarding mere verbal authority, seemed disposed to attack the fundamental doctrines of the Church itself. Everywhere the minds of men were filled with religious aspirations; and while in Germany pious men were trying to find peace for their souls in the indulgence of a spiritual mysticism, a fire was smouldering in two remote parts of western Christendom. In England, a brave and simple-hearted priest had ventured, in a spirit far in advance of his age, to attack with an almost puritanical zeal the right of the Church to its worldly possessions; appealing to the pure word of God in attestation of the truth of the enlightened doctrines which he advanced. The stake and the scaffold had in vain been erected as a defence against the heresy of the Lollards in England. The sparks of truth which had flown far over land and sea, had been kindled into flame amid the distant valleys of Bohemia. Then burst forth, in the midst of those

terrible wars with the Hussites, a spirit of fierce enthusiasm, whose all consuming flames extended far and wide, under the stimulus of religious faith, moral convictions, hatred of race, and the wildest fanaticism. But the remedy had been too early applied; the miseries of Europe and the disruption of discipline and morals which had spread alike among the great and humble, could not be mitigated by such severe measures, and neither party was as yet permitted to rejoice in victory.

France was, in many respects, situated the same as the countries by which she was surrounded. The power of her princes had, however, increased more steadily, and while they had endeavoured to comprise the monarchy within its natural boundaries, they had succeeded to a certain extent in maintaining a national position in regard to the Church of Rome. It even sometimes appeared as if the state policy which was now dawning upon the coming age, had been developed more rapidly here than elsewhere. The country and its rul

however, destined to meet with a trial which had the effect of turning them aside for many years from their onward path of progress. King Charles VI. had lost his reason soon after his accession to the throne; and although he may sometimes have been visited by lucid intervals, such a rule as his, which was continued for more than forty years, afforded free scope for the display of the selfish views and passions of his scheming foreign consort and of a number of the princes of the blood. It had been the custom to bestow upon the latter the larger provinces and principalities of the kingdom; but the more sensible of the kings had shown a disposition to consider these endowments merely as crown fiefs,

without allowing them to assume the character of patrimonial dignities. Now, however, when the crown was worn by an imbecile prince, the magnates of the land were not contented with merely striving to become independent chiefs; and two of their number, the king's uncle, the Duke of Orleans, and his cousin, the Duke of Burgundy, carried on a bitter contest for the regency of the kingdom. At this time too, a love of pleasure and luxuriance, and the most unbridled immorality, to which the Franco-Gallic races seem at all times to have been easily disposed, had become so deeply ingrafted among all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, including prelates, nobles, and burghers, that all the bases of family union had been overthrown while the ties of relationship and patriotism seemed about to fall into equal disregard. In the midst of this abasement, the few God-fearing men who still ventured to call upon their brethren to repent, could not command a hearing. At this moment the murder of the licentious Duke of Orleans, which had been accomplished by a band of men wearing masks, who fell upon their victim in the streets of Paris, on a dark November night, in the year 1407, was the signal for a succession of the most terrible outrages, and the deepest humiliation. The deed, which had been executed by order of the Duke of Burgundy, gave rise to one of the most horrible forms of civil war ever witnessed. Paris scarcely endured more fearful excesses in the year 1793, than those which the factions of the Armagnacs and Burgundians perpetrated against one another. The Duke of Burgundy was supported by the scum of the populace and all the democratic elements in the land; while the nobility, more especially in the