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knights, though there was nothing remarkable in his person or dress. More than this, she gained his confidence by whispering to him a secret which he thought known only to Heaven himself. He left his bedfellow, who was his confessor, out of the party. In his moment of distress he had prayed that God would deliver him, or would enable him to escape death or imprisonment, and fly to Spain or Scotland. This last clause of his prayer was evidently not fit

for publication, and he thought it had not passed his lips. But his bedfellow had heard it, and in the knowledge of this secret much power resided. It was communicated to Joan, or we must believe with the world of her time, that it was revealed to her by the saints. She was evidently now, perhaps without her own consciousness, the tool of a party, her mind was under the direction of others, and the great interest which attaches to her romantic and high souled enthusiasm in some measure dies

away. When she took arms, she fancied that Heaven had revealed to her that a particular sword which she was to wield was hidden behind the altar of St. Catharine, marked with three fleurs de lis. Such a sword was found, of course, placed there by those who saw that the courage of the French began to be stimulated by her character of a messenger from Heaven. The placing of the sword behind the altar she might not have known, and have been in that case a dupe. But in the former matter we have mentioned, she was herself the person who voluntarily practised artifice. To gain the confidence of Charles was a matter of primary moment: without it she was nothing, and having gained it, she was in possession of a stage whereon her mind might expatiate. There is some curious interest in seizing and marking this junction of fraud with enthusiasm. In the history of the great revolutionizers of the world, in the lives of the Mahomets and the Loyolas, it is always curious to observe when the energies of fanaticism begin to decline, when the enthusiast becomes a politician, and the zealot sinks into a hypocrite.

We are more anxious to display the mental character of the Maid of Orleans, than to relate the military and political circumstances of her life, which indeed have been often and amply told. While her pretensions to a divine commission were under examination at the court of Charles, somebody observed, if the Deity intends to deliver France, men at arms are not required. Her answer was prompt and judicious, that

men at arms fight, and God gives the victory.” A man who spoke Limousin French, asked her what dialect her celestial

T

1

friends used, a better one than

yours," was her answer, and to the question, " do you believe in God ?" she replied, with similar uncourteousness, 5 better than

you

do." Though the English believed her to be a spirit from hell, yet they ascribed to her sundry mortal infirmities. Her virtue was spotless, but her soul was not of that tone which could treat their slanders with contempt. In every moment of advantage she reminded the English that they were defeated by a woman, whom they called a strumpet. She named them in return Godons, a word meaning gluttons, and not as Henry and others have supposed, from the English swearing. He knew not the origin of this culpable vulgarity, but we can assure our readers that swearing, so long the happy privilege of the military classes, was enjoyed in as high perfection by the French as by the English. The Maid did her best to repress it among her own soldiers, and it is amusing to observe that Lahire compromised his habit with his wish to oblige his fair friend, by promising that in future he would swear only by his batồn.

She was taken prisoner on the 23d of May, 1430, in a sally from Compeigne, which the English were besieging. Charles VII. sometime before had ennobled her, and permitted her to wear the splendid dress of the great; and on the day of her capture she was distinguished by a surcoat of purple silk, embroidered with gold and silver. Perhaps this little display of the feminine part of her character was the cause of her destruction; at least she was more remarkable than usual, and was therefore more severely pressed by her enemies. That she was not treated as a prisoner of war, that all the laws of chivalrous humanity were violated in her instance, that at the instigation of the English she was tried by a French ecclesiastical tribunal, under the forms of the Inquisition, for magic and witchcraft, that she was condemned to death, but that upon her confession of fraud and imposition the sentence was mitigated into perpetual imprisonment, that her assumption of a military dress, purposely put in her way by her enemies, was regarded as a recantation, and that the original sentence was therefore renewed; all these matters are too notorious for us to enlarge upon; but the circumstances of the day of her execution are not so well known.

She was imprisoned in the tower of Rouen ; simple chains to walls and floors were not thought sufficient securities; but she was pressed into a case of iron, and fastened to it by the neck, hands, and feet. At day break of the memorable 30th of May, 1431, the intended consummation of this cruelty was

announced to her. When she heard that she was to be burnt, her indignation and alarm were extreme.“ Am I,” exclaimed she, “ to be treated so cruelly and horribly. Must my body, which has always been pure, be consumed to ashes? I would rather be beheaded seven times than be burnt; and I appeal to God, the great Judge, for all the wrongs and injuries done to me!" Her mind, however, became for a moment more tranquil, and she prayed fervently, and received the sacrament. The Prelate of Beauvais entered her dungeon, and she cried, “ Bishop, I die through you, and I appeal to God against you!” She then saw another ecclesiastic of a different frame of mind, and she exclaimed, “ Ah master Peter, where shall I be to-day?" He asked her whether she had not good hope in the Lord. “Yes," she cried with fervour,“ if God help me I shall be in Para, dise.” At nine o'clock she was taken to the market-place at Rouen *, under a strong guard, and acompanied by the good father Peter, her confessor. A vast crowd of English and French witnessed the spectacle. A sermon was preached to the people on the abominations of superstition and blasphemy. The Maid then fell on her knees, and prayed so fervently to Heaven, and so piteously desired the prayers of the crowd, that the hearts even of those who condemned her to death were moved. A catalogue of her crimes, her sorceries, and her abominations was then read to her, but she disdained any reply, and simply asked for a crucifix. An English soldier gave her one, which he fashioned from his stick. She kissed it, and put it in her bosom, requesting that one might be fetched from the church, on which she could fix her dying eyes. Her confessor procured it, and administered the consolations of religion. But her persecutors were urgent, and they scornfully asked father Peter whether he meant that they should dine there that day. The fire was then lighted, and she was carried to it with the mitre of the Inquisition on her head, bearing the words Heretic, Relapsed, Apostate, Idolater. Amidst her shrieks and tears she was tied to the stake; yet for a moment forgetting all consideration of herself, she entreated her confessor to withdraw a few steps, for the flames were catching his gown. Her sufferings were expressed by groans and shrieks, In her agony she screamed her conviction of the reality of her divine mission. Her dying eyes were fixed on the cross, and in her last shriek the name of the Saviour was heard.

We will pass to more pleasing matters. From the time of Charles VII. to these days an annual festival has been held at Orleans on the 8th of May, to commemorate the raising of the siege of that city by Joan of Arc. It was discontinued during the stormy period of the revolution, but on Napoleon's accession to power it was revived, and is observed now with all the theatrical effect which the French so well understand. A young man habited in an ancient costume represents the heroine. He is surrounded by the magistrates and chief citizens of Orleans, and a procession is made to the cathedral. An oration is there delivered in honour of Joan of Arc. They then repair to the church of the Augustins, and visit the monument which public gratitude has raised to the memory of the Maid. Soldiers as well as the people act on the scene, and the expressions of military honour are regulated by a programme set forth by authority of the magistrates.

* It is now known as the Marché aux Veaux in Rouen.

Of her person, no genuine picture exists. The oldest is in the town hall of Orleans, and it was not painted till the year 1581, nearly a hundred and thirty years after her death. The common Lorraine physiognomy is given to her, without the addition of any mental expression.

The birth place of Joan of Arc is now public property. The spot was purchased in the year 1818, at the joint expence of the French government and the department of Vosges. The house is enclosed within the precincts of a school, that has been founded for the instruction of the countrywomen of the heroine of Domremy. The house had, for many years, formed part of another dwelling, and only three chambers of small dimensions could be distinguished. These rooms have been the frequent subject of pilgrimage, and many a collection of curiosities boasts a fragment of its beams and pannels. The architect appointed by the government, in 1818, has unmasked the edifice by demolishing the ruins that encumbered it, restoring to the doorway the arched molding that had originally belonged to it, and replacing the chimney piece which had been removed into the adjoining house. The house now stands isolated, as it should do. A fountain is also there, accompanied, the French say ornamented, by an alabaster statue, the work of a M. le Gendre Héral, who bears the august title of Professor of Sculpture to the Academy of the Fine Arts at Lyons. Painting also has lent her powers to ennoble the residence of the Maid. In the room wherein people have chosen to suppose she was born, her picture hangs. It was presented to the place by his Majesty Louis XVIII. She is painted in an oratory dedicated to the Virgin, before whose image she is kneeling; and she partly rests on the sword which it is imagined she consecrated to the deliverance of her country. The painter is M, Laurent, a

Parisian artist of some merit. Whether all these matters which we have stated proceed from fanaticism or national vanity, or in what proportions these feelings are mixed, we shall leave our readers to judge. “ Je suis Français, je suis Chretien," is the sentence of poor M. Lebrun Decharmettes, when his mind is perplexed by reason and superstition.-As a Frenchman, I believe that Providence miraculously interposed to save France from the dominion of the English as a Christian, my judgment forbids me to think that Heaven has, in these latter

ages of the world, produced its ends, but by the operation of ordinary human means.

Ever since the revival of letters Joan of Arc has been the theme of French poets, Heroics have been vociferated, and elegies murmured; the brief monody, the lengthened tragedy, have commemorated her virtue and sufferings. Poets of other countries have sung her praises. The admirers of Schiller need not be reminded of his Jungfrau von Orleans ; England too has “ done her duty," and the earliest aspirations of her Laureate's muse, in the freshness of its republicanism, are devoted to the immortality of the matchless “ Maid.”

The two English volumes are beautifully printed, and contain a mass of documents, memoirs, &c., with some moderatę engravings.

A New View of the Infection of Scarlet Fever : illustrated by Remarks

on other Contagious Disorders. By W. MACMICHAEL, M.D, 8vo. Vol. I. London. Underwoods. 1822.

In the present day, when every Mamma has her medicine-chest; when every village has its half-dozen of Lady Bountifuls; and when calomel and salts are distributed like tea and sugar, and swallowed by every miss, master, hypochondriac, valetudinarian, glutton, lawyer, alderman, et cetera, as if the business of life was to take physic, and as if every one understood physic, we will make no apology for treating a medical book in pages destined to less mortal things.

When, indeed, we contemplate the mixed ardour and anxiety with which all these, and many more, pore over Dr. Buchan, and Dr. Reece, and Dr. Solomon, we doubt, if even a new epic would exhibit a more fascinating article, than a lucubration on scarlatina, sciatica, &c.

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