with a mortuary cloak, and finally carried to the church, where
they repeated the same prayers and the same ceremonies as for the dead.

This was really terrible, even if somewhat theatrical, and it is easy to
see that this complicated ritual contained only a very few ancient
elements. In the twelfth century the ceremonial of degradation was
infinitely more simple. The spurs were hacked off close to the heels of
the guilty knight. Nothing could be more summary or more significant.
Such a person was publicly denounced as unworthy to ride on horseback,
and consequently quite unworthy to be a knight. The more ancient and
chivalrous, the less theatrical is it. It is so in many other
institutions in the histories of all nations.

That such a penalty may have prevented a certain number of treasons and
forfeitures we willingly admit, but one cannot expect it to preserve all
the whole body of chivalry from that decadence from which no institution
of human establishment can escape.

Notwithstanding inevitable weaknesses and accidents, the Decalogue of
Chivalry has none the less been regnant in some millions of souls which
it has made pure and great. These ten commandments have been the rules
and the reins of youthful generations, who without them would have been
wild and undisciplined. This legislation, in fact--which, to tell the
truth, is only one of the chapters of the great Catholic Code--has
raised the moral level of humanity.

Besides, chivalry is not yet quite dead. No doubt, the ritual of
chivalry, the solemn reception, the order itself, and the ancient oaths,
no longer exist. No doubt, among these grand commandments there are many
which are known only to the erudite, and which the world is unacquainted
with. The Catholic Faith is no longer the essence of modern chivalry;
the Church is no longer seated on the throne around which the old
knights stand with their drawn swords; Islam is no longer the hereditary
enemy; we have another which threatens us nearer home; widows and
orphans have need rather of the tongues of advocates than of the iron
weapon of the knights; there are no more duties toward liege-lords to be
fulfilled; and we even do not want any kind of superior lord at all;
_largesse_ is now confounded with charity; and the becoming hatred of
evil-doing is no longer our chief, our best, passion!

But whatever we may do there still remains to us, in the marrow, a
certain leaven of chivalry which preserves us fr