ting almost to certainty, that
the Carthaginian fleet was moored in the Gulf of Spezzia or the
roadstead of Genoa. I could understand these patient researches if
there were any doubt as to the battle of Canna; but inasmuch as
the results of that great battle are known, why blacken paper with
all these suppositions (which are, as it were, the arabesques of
hypothesis) while the history most important to the present day,
that of the Reformation, is full of such obscurities that we are
ignorant of the real name of the man who navigated a vessel by
steam to Barcelona at the period when Luther and Calvin were
inaugurating the insurrection of thought.[*]

You and I hold, I think, the same opinion, after having made, each
in his own way, close researches as to the grand and splendid
figure of Catherine de' Medici. Consequently, I have thought that
my historical studies upon that queen might properly be dedicated
to an author who has written so much on the history of the
Reformation; while at the same time I offer to the character and
fidelity of a monarchical writer a public homage which may,
perhaps, be valuable on account of its rarity.

[*] The name of the man who tried this experiment at Barcelona
should be given as Salomon de Caux, not Caus. That great man
has always been unfortunate; even after his death his name is
mangled. Salomon, whose portrait taken at the age of forty-six
was discovered by the author of the "Comedy of Human Life" at
Heidelberg, was born at Caux in Normandy. He was the author of
a book entitled "The Causes of Moving Forces," in which he
gave the theory of the expansion and condensation of steam.
He died in 1635.

CATHERINE DE' MEDICI

INTRODUCTION

There is a general cry of paradox when scholars, struck by some
historical error, attempt to correct it; but, for whoever studies modern
history to its depths, it is plain that historians are privileged liars,
who lend their pen to popular beliefs precisely as the newspapers of the
day, or most of them, express the opinions of their readers.

Historical independence has shown itself much less among lay writers
than among those of the Church. It is from the Benedictines, one of the
glories of France, that the purest light has come to us in the matter
of history,--so long, of course, as the interests of the order were not
involved. About the middle of the eighteenth century great an