reason. She was perhaps one of the most complete
exponents of the finer strain of thought of her time. She stands
before us, at the dawn of the fifteenth century, Janus-headed, looking
to the past and to the future, a woman typical of a time of
transition, on the one hand showing, in her writings, a clinging to
old beliefs, and on the other hand asserting, in her contact with real
life, independence of thought in the discussion of still unsolved
questions.

Christine was born at Venice in 1363, where her father, Thomas de
Pisan, of Bologna, distinguished for his knowledge of medicine and
astrology, had settled on his marriage with a daughter of one of the
Councillors of the Republic. When five years of age, she was taken by
her mother to Paris to join her father, who had been summoned thither
some time before by the King, Charles the Fifth, to serve as his
astrologer. At the end of the fourteenth century astrology played a
very real and important part in men's lives. Before wars or journeys
were undertaken, or additions to castle or chapel made, or even a new
garment put on, the stars were consulted for the propitious day and
hour. So deeply was Charles the Fifth imbued with a belief in the
efficacy of this occult art that when he wished to confer some special
honour, or to express his gratitude for some service rendered to him
or to the State, he sought to enhance his bounty by sending an
astrologer as part of his gift. By the time little Christine arrived
in Paris her father had gained the confidence and esteem of the King,
and was settled at Court with substantial maintenance. Here she was
brought up as a maiden of quality, surrounded by much magnificence,
for Charles loved beautiful things, and never stayed his hand to
procure them, even when the gratification of his desires involved
hardship to his people. He possessed many virtues, but economy was not
one of them. The dismal castle of the Louvre, which had been the home
of the French kings since the days of Philip Augustus, found no favour
in his sight as a place of residence, and he quickly set about
building the sumptuous Hotel de St. Paul, in what is now known as the
"Quartier de l'Arsenal." The Louvre he destined for official
functions, for an arsenal, and for his library. To form a library was
no new thing in Paris. Some thirty years earlier Richard de Bury,
Bishop of Durham (1333) and sometime Chancellor of England, speaks of
his frequent ambassadorial vis