s a considerable substratum of truth also.

These abuses--which wealth engendered, which more than one poet has
stigmatized--attracted, in the fourteenth century, the attention of an
important individual, a person whose name occupies a worthy place in
literature and history. Philip of Mezieres, chancellor of Cyprus under
Peter of Lusignan, was a true knight, who one day conceived the idea of
reforming chivalry. Now the way he found most feasible in accomplishing
his object, in arriving at such a difficult and complex reform, was to
found a new order of chivalry himself, to which he gave the
high-sounding title of "the Chivalry of the Passion of Christ."

The decadence of chivalry is attested, alas! by the very character of
the reformers by which this well-meaning Utopian attempted to oppose it.
The good knight complains of the great advances of sensuality, and
permits and advises the marriage of all knights. He complains of the
accursed riches which the Hospitallers themselves were putting to a bad
use, and forbade them in his _Institutions_; but nevertheless the
luxurious habits of his time had an influence upon his mind, and he
permitted his knights to wear the most extravagant costumes, and the
dignitaries of his order to adopt the most high-sounding titles. There
was something mystical in all this conception, and something theatrical
in all this agency. It is hardly necessary to add that the "Chivalry of
the Passion" was only a beautiful dream, originating in a generous mind.
Notwithstanding the adherence of some brilliant personages, the order
never attained to more than a theoretical organization, and had only a
fictitious foundation. The idea of the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre
from the Infidel was hardly the object of the fifteenth-century
chivalry; for the struggle between France and England then was engaging
the most courageous warriors and the most practised swords. Decay
hurried on apace!

This was not the only cause of such a fatal falling away. The portals of
chivalry had been opened to too many unworthy candidates. It had been
made vulgar! In consequence of having become so cheap the grand title of
"knight" was degraded. Eustace Deschamps, in his fine, straightforward
way, states the scandal boldly and "lashes" it with his tongue. He says:
"Picture to yourself the fact that the degree of knighthood is about to
be conferred now upon babies of eight and ten years old."

Well might this excellent man