alm of the barbarian
across the Rhine? Let us say rather that it was an espousal. She had
brought her dowry of beauty and "land," that most coveted of
possessions, and had pledged obedience, for which she was to be
cherished, honored, and protected, and to bear the name of her lord.

It will be well not to examine too closely the conversion of Clovis to
Christianity, any more than that of Constantine to the religion of
Christ, or that of Henry VIII. to Protestantism. The only thing Clovis
wanted of the gods was aid in destroying his enemies. At a certain
dark moment, when the pagan deities failed him, and the tide of battle
was turning against him, in desperation he offered to become a
Christian, if the God of the Christians would save him. He kept his
word. His victory was followed by Christian baptism, and the Church
had won a great defender, whose ferocious instincts were thereafter to
be directed toward the extermination of unbelievers. And while hewing
and consolidating and bringing his kingdom into form, whether by
treacheries or intrigues or assassination, this converted Frank was not
alone defender of the faith, but of the orthodox faith. The Visigoth
kingdom in Spain was given over to that heresy known as _Arianism_! So
in a crusade, like another of a later date, he swept them over beyond
the Pyrenees, thus establishing a frontier which always remained.

Such were the rough beginnings of France, geographically and
historically.

Ancient heroes are said to be seen through a shadowy lens, which
magnifies their stature. Let us hope that the crimes of the three or
four generations immediately succeeding Clovis have been in like manner
expanded; for it is sickening to read of such monstrous prodigality of
wickedness; whole families butchered--husbands, wives, children,
anything obstructing the path to the throne--with an atrocity which
makes Richard III. seem a mere pigmy in the art of intrigue and
killing. The chapter closes with the daughter and mother of kings
(Brunhilde or Brunhaut), naked, and tied by one arm, one leg, and her
hair to the tail of an unbroken horse, and amid jeers and shouts dashed
over the stones of Paris (A.D. 600).

Upon the death of Clovis his inheritance was divided among four sons,
who, with their wives and families and their tempestuous passions,
afforded material for a great epic. Whether Fredegunde or Brunhilde
was the more terrible who can say? But the story of these r