blessing that could possibly have befallen this kingdom, the Church of God, and more especially myself and all my house.”[329] This leaves no doubt that Coligny assented, if he did not consent to the crime. He was not unwilling to profit by it, though he would do nothing to further it. This may diminish the lofty moral pedestal on which some writers have placed the Protestant hero; but he was a man, and had all a man’s failings, though he may have controlled them by his religious principles. Nor was assassination considered at all cowardly or disgraceful in those days; not more so than killing a man in a duel was until very recently among us. The news of the duke’s murder was received with a cry of horror among the Catholic party. Pius IV. ordered a magnificent funeral ceremony to be performed in St. Peter’s, and Julius Poggianus, in his sermon on the occasion, comparing Francis to Judas Maccabæus, called him the preserver of France. In a funeral service at Notre Dame in Paris, the vicar-general of Rouen extolled the duke, but would not pray for him, “car fait injure au martyr qui prie pour le martyr.” He treated Guise as a sort of demi-god, and declared that nothing restrained him from reckoning the murdered man among the saints but his respect for the pope, who had not yet canonized him.[330] On the other hand, these honors only served to call forth a torrent of vituperation from his enemies. The murder was openly defended, Poltrot was compared to Judith, and ballads were sung in his praise.[331] He was called L’exemple merveilleux D’une extrême vaillance, Le dixième des preux, Libérateur de France. In another ballad we are told that Dieu suscita le vaillant de Méré, Qui le Guisart a massacré. Even Beza conferred on him the martyr’s crown, and Cecil “was very glad to hear of the duke’s hurt, and could wish his soul in heaven.”[332]