e, but in his case the
demand will come from no Church, but with the irresistible voice of
all Humanity.

Joan's country had been at war for one hundred years. Ravaged by
foreign invaders and depopulated by plague, it was foaming with civil
strife and treason to the national cause, many of the most powerful
men and women, both openly and in secret, taking sides with the enemy.
The crisis had reached a point when this modest, uneducated,
clear-witted, fearless maiden was launched by her "voices" to the
scene of battle, there to inspire hope and enthusiasm in the hearts of
her people. In a few weeks she had established confidence, smashed the
invader, and crowned the unworthy Charles VII. as King. Twenty years
after they had burnt her, there was scarcely a foreign foot to be
found on French soil.

There is a further similarity between the peasant girl and Napoleon.
_She_ was brought to the aid of her country by the voices of the
unseen, and four hundred years after, when her country was again in
dire trouble, _he_ was found in obscurity and in an almost
supernatural way flashed into prominent activity to save the
Revolution. It was the voices of the living, seen and unseen, that
called aloud for the little Corporal to lead to battle, conquer, and
ultimately govern. It was some of the self-same voices that intrigued
and then burst forth in declamation and demanded his abdication on the
eve of his first reverse. The Church, which owed its rehabilitation to
him after he had implanted a settled government in France, had no
small share in the conspiracy for his overthrow. He said, "There is
but one means of getting good manners, and that is by establishing
religion." He believed it, and did it in spite of a storm of
opposition that would have hurled a less resolute man from power, but
he knew full well his strength, and was sure then, as he ever was, of
his opinions.

The Church and those of the people who become allied to its material
policy are prone to destroy those who have been of service to their
cause. There is indeed no society of men and women who are so
vindictive, nay, revengeful, once they are seized with the idea that
they are being neglected, or their interests not receiving all the
patronage they think they deserve, and then, after a few generations
of reflection, they become overwhelmed with unctuous sanctity and
remorse, and proceed to make saints of the victims of their
progenitors in order that the perf