Nostradamus was of a stature somewhat less than middle-size, rather thick-set, active and vigorous. He had a broad, open forehead, a straight, regular nose, grey eyes, of gentle appearance, but in anger flashing fire; the general expression was severe, but pleasant, so that through all the seriousness one could discern a benevolent disposition; his cheeks were rosy even in extreme age; he had a long thick beard, and his health was excellent, all his senses being alert and well-preserved. His spirits were good, and he comprehended readily whatever he gave his attention to. His judgment was penetrating, and his memory remarkably retentive. He was taciturn by nature, thought much and spoke little, was rather prompt, sudden, and irascible in temper, but very patient when hard work had to be encountered. He slept four or five hours only out of the twenty-four. He practised freedom of speech himself and commended it in others. He was cheerful and facetious in conversation, though in jesting a little given to bitterness. He was attached, so says De Chavigny, to the Roman Church, and held fixedly the Catholic faith; out of its pale there was for him no salvation. Though pursuing a line of thought entirely his own, he had no sympathy with the Lutheran heretics of so-called Freethought. He was given to prayer, fasting, and charity. As far as outward observance was concerned, he might be classed with the highly respectable and decent. Le Pelletier says, “sa fin fut Chrétienne;” but he adds a little further on that his style is very much more like that of the Pagan oracles of Greece and Rome than of the canonical prophets of Hebrew Inspiration. He remarks that the first Century opens with a regular incantation fortified by the most celebrated rites of Paganism, so that some suspicion of his orthodoxy may well be entertained. Certain it is, for he avows as much in the dedicatory epistle to Henry II.--which, by the way, the King never saw--that it was his custom prudently to veil in obscurity of expression whatever was likely to displease his protectors and so to damage his private interest. This is not the way with the heroes of Hebrew prophecy, Isaiah, Elijah, Samuel, but though it is somewhat cowardly, it becomes, when well reckoned up, a sort of sub-assertion of sincerity; for why should a man record the unpleasant things at all if he did not believe in them, and desired only to make himself agreeable? If he believed his own utterances he was _consciously_ a prophet: that he threw a veil over them, shows only that he declined to suffer martyrdom for his convictions. It is quite possible to be a seer, and yet not heroical, but it is the poorest of criticism not to distinguish between such frailty as this and imposture. Want of grandeur does not imply any _intention to deceive_. Modern Freethought effectually breaks down upon a point like this, it almost invariably classifies the weak spiritualist as an impostor. It reasons somewhat thus: “Astrologers are