Rationalist—far from it—but she was an independent Catholic—that is to say—not subject to the church—and that is heresy. Is it any wonder that her sentence read: "Therefore we pronounce you a rotten limb, and as such to be lopped off from the church." And the reason this sentence gave satisfaction to the Catholics all over the world was because such initiative and self-respect as Joan had manifested, if tolerated, would bring about the collapse of the infallible authority of the church. The University of Paris wrote to the pope, to the king of England and the bishops, lauding the priests who had purged the church of this dangerous girl with her "I think so," or "I believe so,"—with the emphasis on the "I." In this same letter the Bishop of Beauvais, the evil genius of Joan, to whom she said, when she saw the stake awaiting her, "Bishop, I die through you!" is commended for "his great gravity and holy way of proceeding, which ought to be most satisfactory to all."

It took five hundred years for the Catholic Church to discover that the young woman burnt as a heretic was really a saint. But the church did not make this discovery until modern thought, benign and brave, had taken the outcast girl under its protection. The French nation had already made a national heroine of her, when the Vatican decided to enroll her name among the hallowed ones in its calendar. The beatification of Joan was brought about ostensibly by the report that certain sufferers from cancer, and other incurable maladies, had been completely cured by praying to Joan of Arc for help. The Maid had become a miracle worker, and hence worthy to receive a medal, as it were, from the pope. Joan is now a new income as well as a saint.

Joan owes her Vindication to the Rationalists of France. The man in recent years whose books, position and influence did more than anything else to bring about a new attitude toward Joan of Arc, was Marcelin Berthelot, who now sleeps in the Pantheon as one of the glories of his country. A few years ago, I received an invitation to visit him at Bellevue near Paris. To give you an idea of the great man who did so much to rejuvenate Europe and throw its whole weight on the side of justice to the Martyr—woman of France. I shall reproduce in this connection what I said about him after my interview with him:

"Who are the Rationalists?" is one of the questions frequently asked. Well, they are the intellectual leaders of the world, as what I learned about Berthelot clearly shows. He was the man upon whom two European sovereigns had conferred the highest decorations in their power for services rendered to human progress,—whom his own countrymen had honored by making him a senator for life; who twice had been appointed minister of foreign affairs; who had been elected an honorary member of all the scientific associations of the world; upon whom the Royal Scientific Society of London has bestowed its most coveted honors; who is the perpetual secretary of the Academy of Science of Paris; a member of the Academy Française, and, therefore, one of the immortals; and whose volumes, inventions, discoveries and contributions have placed modern civilization under inexpressible obligations to him. With all these dignities and titles, richly deserved, M. Berthelot is as gracious in his manners, as unassuming, as childlike and modest, as one could desire. He displays all the charms of the real man of worth—the man of genius.

Though in his seventy-sixth year, the sage and diplomat still possessed the vigor of a man of fifty, pursuing his studies and interesting himself in the politics of his time, with the ardor and fervor of youth. The accumulation of his years and his indefatigable labors had by no means impaired the faculties of his mind, being still regarded by his countrymen as one of the most fertile brains and sanest intellects of modern Europe.

Two years previously all France, one might say, had met in Paris to celebrate at the Sorbonne the completion of Berthelot's fifty years of intellectual labor. It was on this occasion that the foreign potentates sent their delegates and decorations to him. Every civilized country was represented at the festivities by its foremost men of letters and diplomats, while all the senators of France, the president of the republic, the members of his cabinet, and all the heads of the colleges were assembled to applaud the master whose half a century of study and service had so greatly augmented the horizon of man and increased the light of the world.

When this distinguished scientist was admitted into the French Academy, Jules Lemaitre, in his address of welcome, declared that Berthelot was the real creator of the modern industrial era, which had multiplied the resources of man a hundredfold. He called Berthelot the discoverer of modern chemistry, which has in so short a time transformed the face of the earth, and which holds the secret of the solution of the social and economic problems of the day. "'Chemistry" declares Berthelot, "'is a new gospel, which brings tidings of great power to mankind.'" "It will put an end to the cruel struggle of classes, and make of warlike politics, now one of the scourges of nations, a lost art. It will do this by placing within the reach of all an inexhaustible wealth of food and raiment, thereby curing man forever of the disease of discontent."

"There are only two things worth living for," said M. Berthelot, in an address at the Palais de Trocadero before six thousand Frenchmen—"the love of truth and the love of one's fellows."

That love of truth opened for Joan the doors of the Catholic Church, shut against her five hundred years ago and it opened to Berthelot the doors of the Pantheon—the Temple of the Immortals!

A final word. I have as much compassion and sympathy for the Catholics as I have for the martyred girl—indeed more, since they need more. Joan has been vindicated by the broader and more benign thought of this! age. The same serene and sweet power will transform the Catholic Church and make it one of the most progressive forces of our America. I have delivered this lecture to hasten that lovely day!