and re-read the
pages of Plutarch with the most absorbing delight. Catharine, with an
eagle eye, watched these indications of a lofty mind. Her solicitude
was roused lest the young Prince of Navarre should, with his
commanding genius, supplant her degenerate house.

At the close of the sixteenth century, the period of which we write,
all Europe was agitated by the great controversy between the Catholics
and the Protestants. The writings of Luther, Calvin, and other
reformers had aroused the attention of the whole Christian world. In
England and Scotland the ancient faith had been overthrown, and the
doctrines of the Reformation were, in those kingdoms, established. In
France, where the writings of Calvin had been extensively circulated,
the Protestants had also become quite numerous, embracing generally
the most intelligent portion of the populace. The Protestants were in
France called Huguenots, but for what reason is not now known. They
were sustained by many noble families, and had for their leaders the
Prince of Conde, Admiral Coligni, and the house of Navarre. There were
arrayed against them the power of the crown, many of the most powerful
nobles, and conspicuously the almost regal house of Guise.

It is perhaps difficult for a Protestant to write upon this subject
with perfect impartiality, however earnestly he may desire to do so.
The lapse of two hundred years has not terminated the great conflict.
The surging strife has swept across the ocean, and even now, with more
or less of vehemence, rages in all the states of this new world.
Though the weapons of blood are laid aside, the mighty controversy is
still undecided.

The advocates of the old faith were determined to maintain their
creed, and to force all to its adoption, at whatever price. They
deemed heresy the greatest of all crimes, and thought--and doubtless
many conscientiously thought--that it should be exterminated even by
the pains of torture and death. The French Parliament adopted for its
motto, "_One religion, one law, one king._" They declared that two
religions could no more be endured in a kingdom than two governments.

At Paris there was a celebrated theological school called the
Sorbonne. It included in its faculty the most distinguished doctors of
the Catholic Church. The decisions and the decrees of the Sorbonne
were esteemed highly authoritative. The views of the Sorbonne were
almost invariably asked in reference to any measures affecti