could a saint have done her work. Bernard could kindle a crusade by his
eloquence, but he could not have delivered Orleans; it required some one
who could excite idolatrous homage. Only a woman, in that age, was
likely to be deified by the people,--some immaculate virgin. Our remote
German ancestors had in their native forests a peculiar reverence for
woman. The priestesses of Germanic forests had often incited to battle.
Their warnings or encouragements were regarded as voices from Heaven.
Perhaps the deification and worship of the Virgin Mary--so hearty and
poetical in the Middle Ages--may have indirectly aided the mission of
the Maid of Orleans. The common people saw one of their own order arise
and do marvellous things, bringing kings and nobles to her cause. How
could she thus triumph over all the inequalities of feudalism unless
divinely commissioned? How could she work what seemed to be almost
miracles if she had not a supernatural power to assist her? Like the
_regina angelorum_, she was _virgo castissima_. And if she was unlike
common mortals, perhaps an inspired woman, what she promised would be
fulfilled. In consequence of such a feeling an unbounded enthusiasm was
excited among the people. They were ready to do her bidding, whether
reasonable or unreasonable to them, for there was a sacred mystery
about her,--a reverence that extorted obedience. Worldly-wise statesmen
and prelates had not this unbounded admiration, although they doubtless
regarded her as a moral phenomenon which they could not understand. Her
advice seemed to set aside all human prudence. Nothing seemed more rash
or unreasonable than to undertake the conquest of so many fortified
cities with such feeble means. It was one thing to animate starving
troops to a desperate effort for their deliverance; it was another to
assault fortified cities held by the powerful forces which had nearly
completed the conquest of France.

The King came to meet the Maid at Tours, and would have bestowed upon