The Press.
London, England, 1853-11-05 00:00:00

Xiittaturt.

Civil Wars and Monarchy in France in the Six-
teenth and Serenteenth Centuries. By Leopold
Ranke. Translated by M. A. Garvey. Lon
don : Bentley.
Taa period embraced in this history extends
from the rise of Calvinism, in the reign of
Francis 1., to the termination of the wars of
Henry IV. with the great Catholic League.
M. Ranke could not have chosen a more in-
teresting theme. The progress of the Refor-
mation in France was marked by a series of
striking events, and it is identified with some
of the most remarkable characters of modern
history. But M. Ranke does nut profess, in
the volumes before us, to give a full and con
nested narrative of the religious wars in
France : ho deals only with the most promi
cent incidents and characters of the time
His work thus assumes inure the character of
a commentary than of a history ; and, though
it is not upon this account less valuable in a
literary point of view, its attractions for the
general reader are thereby much diminished.
Upon the introductory part of the work,
which contains an elaborate sketch of French
history from the days of Julius Caesar to those
of Francis 1., much research and learning
have been expended. But, to our apprehen-
sion, this is the least successful portion of the
book. Few have excelled in this species of
composition ; and we may assert, without the
smallest disparagement to M. Bunke, that he
displays in this historical summary neither the
classic eloquence of Robertson nor the com-
prehensive genius of Hume. Ho does not, in
short, contrive to interest us until the religious
strife commences. But we follow the course
of events with unabated attention from the first
appearance of Calvin on the scene till the
triumphant entry of Henry IV. into Paris in
1594. We watch the dawning of the Refor-
mation and its silent but steady progress
under the tolerant rule of Francis I. -We per-
ceive its doctrines subsequently embraced by
the princes of Navarre, and, as a necessary
result, the deadly rivalry between them and
the aspiring house of Guise. We finally see
great armies taking the field on either side
and contending with a gallantry which has
never been surpassed. For ten long years we
watch the progress of the contest wail, amid
the historic names which crowd before us, our
attention is rivetted upon two. These are
Catherine do Medici and Gaspard de Coligny.
Of the character of Catherine, M. Hawke
takes a more lenient view than will prove
agreeable to many of his Protestant modem
He does not, indeed, attempt to deny her no-
torious perfidy and her frightful indifference
to human life; but he attributes these, in a
great measure, to her early experiences and
to the perilous position which she occupied in
France. Her earliest recollections, he tells
us, carried her back to the fierce factions of
her native city, where, as a child, her life was
frequently exposed to danger. Her subse-
quent marriage with a son of Francis 1. ap-
peared to open to her a new and brilliant
career; but. like all ambitious alliances, it had
its attendant sorrows. She was a foreigner in
the eyes of the people, anti a parrenu in those
of many of the nobles, who deemed the des-
cendant of a Florentine merchant no fit mate
for the son of their king. Add to this that
her husband—afterwards Henry Il.—was de-
voted to an arrogant and caprieions mistress,
the famous Diana of Poictiers ; and Catherine
was so long without children that a divorce
was seriously contemplated. She bore all
without a murmur, and even expressed her
willingness to return to Florence or to retire
to a convent. The chivalrous heart of Francis
was touched by this signal proof of re...igna.
thin and obedience, and he declared that his
daughter-in-law should not leave her adopted
country. She remained, accordingly. and not
only became Queen of France, but saw three
of her sons in succession mount the throne.
These, her descendants, however. brought
neither glory nor happiness to France. Her
eldest son, the boy-husband of Mary Stuart.
died iu his eighteenth year : her second, the
unfortunate Charles IX., is execrated by pot-

THE PRESS.

terity as the responsible author of the mas-
sacre of St. Bartholomew ; and Henry 111. fell
by the hands of an assassin. A strange fatality
seemed to attend the children of the most
ambitious princess of the age.
It was not until her second son ascended the
throne that Catherine de Medici showed her-
self to the world in her true colours. During
the lifetime other husband, Diana of Poictiers,
though some twenty years older than her royal
lover, retained her influence to the last. Even
as Queen Mother during the short reign of
Francis 11., she exercised no true authority, for
that was monopolised by the house of Guise.
But during the remainder of her life, a period
of thirty years, her innate thirst of power,
which the humiliations of her youth had only
served to stimulate, was gratified to the utter-
most. Her early experiences had at once
sharpened her intellect and deadened her
moral susceptibilities. It is well known that
the " Prince " of Machiavelli was the favour-
ite study of her maturer years. It had been
dedicated by her renowned countryman to her
father, Lorenzo de Medici, though with what
motive it is still an unsolved problem. Catherine,
at all events, put the most literal interprets
tion upon this celebrated book. for no sovereign
ever more systematically practised the detesta-
ble precepts which it contains.
The character of this princess is summed up
by M. Ranke in the following terms :
So one trusted her, and she confided in no one. Many
a man, says a Venetian, might well have forgotten the art
of fencing if placed in her position, where Mends and
enemies were no longer distinguishable from one another—
where she was obliged to ask counsel of persons whom
at the time she was well aware were concealing their real
opinions front her. In her own chamber she was trans-
ported with auger and grief; when the hour of audience
arrived she dried her tears, and appeared with a pleasant
countenance. Her maxim was to cause every one to depart
from her presence contented ; but whilst she appeared to give a
definite answer it was immediately observed that she bad
not pronounced her final decision, and whilst that was ex-
pected the conversation was suddenly changed to some
other topic. Many of her written Ulan uctions still remain,
referring to foreign affairs, which had, however, the closest
connection with those of the iuterior of the kingdom. They
exhibit a strong conception of the general aspect of things,
subtlety of comprehens►on, and a s►ngular energy of ex-
pression, and possess a peculiar naïveté in the recommen-
dation of secret means and courses.
Catherine threw into the contest, in which the history of
the world was to receive a new aspect, all that fearful pre.
Bence of mind and inexhaustible veniality of a female in•
tellect which sees its own interests alone in all it content.
plates. Her ambition reseed for maternal duty and solici•
tide : her pride was simply self-defence. She said if she
had not constantly borne the burden of government upon
her head she would still have ever drawn it after her; the
meaning of which seems to be that she would never have
allowed it to go altogether out of her hands. The attain-
ment of this object occupied all her attention ; she had
none to bestow upon the means by which it was obtained.
Moral precepts she did not respect, but she found no plea-
sure in vice. Human life had no value in her eyes. She
professed Italian morality—the morality of her house—
which looked upon all means as lawful by which power was
attained or• preserved.
During the first years of the civil war Cathe-
rine was perplexed by the success of her own
adherents. She rejoiced, indeed, at the fre-
quent defeats sustained by the Huguenots, but,
on the other hand. she dreaded the growing
arrogance of the house of Guise, which sought
to turn each triumph of the Catholic arms to
its own individual advantage. Her policy was
to allow neither party to gain the ascendant,
and hence to counterbalance the ambition of
the Guises she determined to marry one of her
daughters to a Protestant prince—Henry of
Navarre. The occasion of this marriage
brought a number of the leading Huguenot fit
milieu to Paris, and, still pursuing her double
policy, she resolved upon their extermination.
By thus curbing the ambition of the Guises,
and crushing at the same time her Protestant
enemies, she sought to consolidate her power
Coliguy, the acknowledged lender of Protest-
antism in France, and at the time the most
conspicuous man iu Europe, had acquired his
vast reputation less from his talents or achieve-
ments in peace or war than from the confi-
dence inspired by his personal character
He was often defeated in the open field t says M. Henkel.
but his nature was of that deep and persistent character
whose masculine vigour increases with misfortune.
eoligtiv. like William I 11. and Washington, in after tiniest.
showed himself stronger than ever after he had su&red
a defeat. His authority was not founded upon the
enthusiasm which triumphs awaken, but upon the pro-
found feeling that he was indispensable to his party.
These remarks are no less striking than just :
and we need not be surprised that the Queen

SATtraDAT,

Mother should seek to rid herself of so formid-
able an a iversary. He had repaired to Paris
to attend the marriage of her daughter,
and had been received both by Catherine and
her son with every demonstration of esteem.
Coligny received more than one warning of
the intended plot, but he refused to believe in
the perfidy of his young sovereign. Catherine's
chief confidant and colleague in planning the
massacre of the Protestants was the Duke of
Guise, the man whom, next to Coligny, she
regarded as her most dangerous enemy. The
selection of such an instrument accorded well
with the maxims of her favourite author ; and
thus she deliberately arranged the prepara-
tions for her daughter's wedding. and for the
wholesale murder of the Huguenots in Paris.
On the lath of August, 1572, the marriage
ceremony was performed, in the presence of
the must brilliant court in Europe, and of the
chief families of the great rival factions.
Paris still remained tranquil, but four days
afterwards an attempt was made on the life of
Coligny by a retainer of the Guises The
young King, Charles IX., who was still kept in
ignorance of the plot, expressed the utmost
indignation, and declared he would punish
the assassin at all hazards. He even visited
the wounded Huguenot chief, assuring him of
his sympathy and regard, and that he might
rely upon him fur protection. On the follow-
ing day the unhappy prince learned that his
mother had been the instigator of the deed,
and his consent to the plan of the intended
massacre was demanded, both by Catherine
and her younger son, the Duke of Anjou. No
one else was present at this momentous inter-
view, but, in spite of all the artifices of
Catherine, the King for a long time peremp-
torily refused his consent to the nefarious
scheme. Tears, entreaties, threats, all failed
to move him ; but on her taunting him with
cowardice—an imputation wholly groundless
—he at length gave way, and the necessary
instructions were immediately transmitted to
the different quarters of the city. Even after
he had gone thus far, the young King, who had
many intimate associates among the Huguenot
nobles, attempted to countermand the fatal
orders. But the terrible sagacity of Catherine
had led her to anticipate the movements of
her sun. She had witnessed his reluctance to
sanction her long-cherished scheme ; and,
dreading the effects of his irresolution, she
caused the signal for the bloody drama to be
given two hours before the preconcerted time.
We shall not attempt to paint its horrors.
Suffice it to say, that in Paris, on the most
moderate computation, two thousand persons
were put to death in cold blood. Throughout
France the number of victims was not less,
according to M. llanke, than twenty thousand.

The conduct of Charles IX. throughout the
whole of this dark history inspires us with
pity rather than aversion. He was in truth a
mere tool in the remorseless hands of the
Queen Mother, and his struggles to escape the
task imposed upon him entitle him at least to
sympathy. Nor eau we lose sight of the
penalty which outraged humanity exacted from
the unhappy monarch, as the price of his weak
submission to a vindictive woman. History
contains no sterner lesson than the picture of
remorse exhibited by Charles after the pre-
meditated slaughter of his Protestant subjects.
Ile would leave his bed in the middle of the
night, alleging that the air was still tilled with
the same dismal sounds which he had heard
on the night of the massacre. His health,
which was never strong, suffered in conse-
quence of these irregularities, and his death,
which took place within two years afterwards,
is generally supposed to have been hastened
by the ever present recollection of those
hideous scenes of which he had been the un-
willing though responsible author.
In Catherine. from first to last, we look in
vain for any " compunctious visitings of na-
ture," or even for one trace of genuine emotion.
At the very time when thousands of mutilated
corpses encumbered the streets of Paris, her
gay and profligate court was even more gay
and profligate than ever. We are even assured.
on undoubted authority, that on the morning
of the massacre her ladies perambulated the
passages of the Louvre, and indulged in bar-
barous merriment over the bodies of the mur.

NOVEMBER 5, 1853.

tiered Huguenots which lay about in all direc-
tions. This incident would be hardly credible
were it not related by a host of contemporary
writers, and among others by llrantotue,
devoted courtier and a warm partisan of the
Queen Mother. In the midst of these scenes
it will hardly be believed, but it is nevertheless
true, that Catherine still professed the
character of mediatrix between the rival
parties. She even carried her dissimulation
so far as to avoid receiving the Papal Legate,
who arrived in Paris immediately after the
massacre, although she hail addressed a letter
to the Pontiff in her own hand, congratulating
him in the warmest terms upon the destruc-
tion of so many of his enemies.
Our limits will not allow us to follow the
subsequent progress of events ; nor to trace
the strangely-chequered career of Henry IN'.
in his heroic struggle with the great Catholic
League. Suffice it to say, that this work will
materially add to the reputation of M. Itanke.
He is dehcient, indeed, in that narrative and
descriptive power without which no historian
can acquire extensive populaiity, ; but he ex-
hibits great research, au impartial spirit, and
R clear perception of the character both of
persons and events.

Pindari Carmina, according to the Text of Doeekh
Part the Second. Containing the Pythiau
Odes. With English Notes by W. G.
Cookesley, MLA. Second Edition. Eton :
Williams.
Mn. CooxiestEv has various claims to a literary
reputation, but certain of these constitute an
indisputable title, and are connected with the
performance of his duties as assistant twister
in the noblest educational institution of the
world. To his position at Eton he is himself
indebted for the gratification of a scholar's
tastes, and hence, wherever the love of twin)
lairship is extant, he prefers a claim to its sym-
pathy as the accomplished editor of Pindar. Mr.
Cookesley possesses the double qualification
for his task of a genial as well as a critical ap
preciation of the Theban bard, and, as distin-
guished from a more speculative but looser
type, may be classed in that robust and truly
English school which includes the names of
Person, Monk, and Schofield. It is true he
condescends to English notes without defer
ring to the qualification of Messrs. Liddell
and Scott in the preface to their Lexicon. He
says ingenuously, " It would be mere affeeta-
" tion in me to say that it would not have
" given me more trouble to write my notes in
" Latin ; but I hope that I shall gain credit
" for sincerity when I state that it was no de-
" sire to save myself trouble which induced
'" me to write these notes in the one language
" rather than the other." In these days it
may be doubted whether an apology is re
(pared for declining to expound to students
the difficulties of a foreign idiom through a third
language; and Mr. Cookesley will be applauded
by most persons for coinciding with Dr. Arnold
that for the purposes both of lexicography
and criticism English is the proper language
of an Englishman.
To this second part of his new edition of
the Pythian Odes Mr. Cookesley has appended
an admirable essay "On the Moral, Religious,
and Political Character of Pinditr":—
In order (he says) to understand and appreciate the
poetry of it is necessary to contemplate it as a
•chcle ; for Pindar is always the same in d, purpose,
and thought. Ile is so perfect a lover of sincerity and
truth, that he seems incapable of assi 111 l ing a fictitious
character. The business of the Islet, in his judgment, is
that of a moral. religious, and political teacher. To utter
what is not virtuous and true would be, in his estimation,
to dishonour the high office and to betray the sacred duty
of the poet : he speaks therefore with much of the sole
and awful grandeur of an ancient Jewish prophet. His
piety is like his style,--simple and sublime.
In treating of divine subjects he has none of the daring
spirit of his contemporary /Eschylus; and he is equally
five from the somewhat puerile superstition of lien lotus.
Ills religion is reasonable, manly, reverential, holy; be
regards the gods as the great authors of all things good
and useful; and he uniformly inculcates the absolute de-
pendence of man on the gods for every blessing that he can
enjoy : he abhors the idea of the gods being guilty of crime.
In the first t dympie ode he expresses this feting; with tv-
marlutble earnestness and power
,v.:15, seg. ),—" It is
good," says he, " for wan to speak good things of the
gods ; for so he incurs feu blame ;" as if there were some-
thing blameable in speaking familiarly of the gods at all;
but the greater blame of speaking evil of thew mutt at all