126 REVIEWS OF BOOKS January not desist from playing with fire, and on the other hand lost any chances of success by letting ' I dare not wait upon I would '. Fear and maternal ambition were always on the balance. Another theory which M. Mariejol rejects is that, after Anjou's death, Catherine schemed for the exclusion of Navarre, whom she naturally hated, in favour of the house of Lorraine by means of the annulment of the Salic Law. Henry III was only two years older than Navarre, and Catherine, accustomed to live from day to day, was not the woman to add to pressing difficulties by troubling herself about a succession question which would probably arise long after her death. In the then state of feeling Navarre would be naturally set aside on the ground of religion ; she would, in case of need, prefer a compromise in the choice of her old friend the cardinal of Bourbon, which would shelve any alteration of a fundamental principle. Catherine was in fact an opportunist without a political system. Matrimonial combinations were her main object. Thus she passed from catholic alliances to protes- tant, then back to catholic to gratify desire or spite. Her veiled war on Philip II was not a renewal of the Valois-Hapsburg struggle, nor even a discreet offensive against Spanish predominance, but revenge on this everlasting match-maker. But, as M. Mariejol wisely adds, marriages should be based on politics, not politics on marriages : and after all how poor were her results. Charles IX did not marry the eldest archduchess, whom she intended for him, Henry III married a poor cousin of the duke of Lorraine, Anjou was an unwilling celibate, and, worst of all, Margot married Henry of Navarre, to their mutual demoralization. Her one success was the reconciliation of the senior and junior lines of the Medici by the wedding of her favourite grand-daughter and the grand duke of Tuscany. M. Mariejol's psychological analysis of Catherine's character is eminently just, though no two writers will agree on every item. He has no excuse but only explanation for her great crime, the crise defureur provoked by fear and ambition. But one great crime, he protests, does not always imply a criminal nature, and, apart from the St. Bartholomew, her record would be a good one. Far from being naturally cruel, she did her utmost to prevent bloodshed, urging tolerance even under the brutal rule of Henry II. She was chaste in word and deed, in spite of her husband's infidelity and the general profligacy of the French court. Her notorious flying squadron of disreputable ladies was a legacy from two preceding reigns ; she could not dismiss the culprits without alienating the influen- tial families which had bred them. Power was her passion, but it was her only means for securing her children's future ; she never usurped it, never illegally retained it. She genuinely loved to please and to reconcile, which may be some excuse for the vague promises, the distant engagements, the holy intentions, which cost her nothing. Her intelligence was alert, always awake, insinuating and supple. With wonderful control over her feelings she never lost her calm ; violence of language was unknown to her who had ordered the most violent crime in all French history. She ordered, though with small success, her son Henry to keep his tongue under control. In speaking she was eloquent, convincing, and to the point ; never short of arguments, with logic peculiar, thinks M. Marie-
