When she was informed, on one occasion, that Babylon had revolted, she left her toilet half made, put herself at the head of an armed force, and instantly quelled the revolt. She was a woman of strong passions and of strong mind, and, what is now very uncommon, of strong nerves. And yet her peerless beauty and the fascination of her manners appear to have been as irresistible as the sway of her sceptre. The fatality of her personal charms, her inordinate love of power, and the evils which arise from the indulgence of vain aspirations, indicate the lessons which are taught by her career. In the twenty-fifth year of her reign, her life was suddenly terminated by the violent hand of her own son. After death she was transformed, as it was believed, into a dove, under the symbol of which she received divine honors throughout Assyria.

It would seem that literary women were not less known in ancient times than at the present day. Sappho took her place in the galaxy of literary fame six hundred years before Christ. So sublime, and yet so sweet, were her lyric strains that the Greeks pronounced her the tenth Muse. Longinus cites from her writings specimens of the sublime, and extols her genius as unrivalled. Beneficent as talented, she instituted an academy of music for young maidens, wrote nine books of lyric verse, and many other compositions of great merit. But of all her writings, however, only one or two of her odes have survived. Her fate was an unhappy one. She became violently enamoured of a young man of Mitylene, who was so ungallant as not to reciprocate her attachment; and being reduced to a state of hopeless despair, she precipitated herself into the sea from the steep cliff of Leucate, ever since called the "Lover's Leap."

In this connection we ought not to omit the name of Aspasia, who, at a period two centuries later than Sappho, emerged like a star in a darkened sky and charmed the age in which she lived with the fascinations of her rhetoric. She was not less stately and queen-like in her person than accomplished in her manners. It is said of her, that she possessed rhetorical powers which were unequalled by the public orators of her time; she was as learned as eloquent. Plato says she was the instructress of Socrates. She also instructed Pericles in the arts of oratory, and afterwards married him. He was largely indebted to her for his finish of education and elegance of manners, for which he was so much distinguished.

So charming were Aspasia's conversational powers that the Athenians sought every opportunity to introduce their wives into her presence, that they might learn from her the art of employing an elegant diction. On one occasion when the Athenian army had been disheartened, she appeared in the public assembly of the people and pronounced an oration, which so thrilled their breasts as to inspire new hopes, and induce them to rally and redeem their cause.

Among female sovereigns but few have evinced more tact or talent in an emergency than Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra. She was a native of Syria, a descendant of Ptolemy; married Odenatus, a Saracen, and after his death succeeded to the throne, about the year of our Lord 267. She had been highly educated, wrote and spoke many different languages, had studied the beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of Longinus, and was not less renowned for her beauty, melody of voice, and elegance of manners, than for her heroic deeds. In the five years of her reign she conducted many warlike expeditions, extended her empire, compelling Cappadocia, Bithynia, and Egypt to recognize her authority, and acknowledge her "Queen of the East,"—a favorite title which she had assumed. Her power had now become so extended as to alarm the Roman government for their own safety, who sent Aurelian with a formidable army to subjugate and reduce her empire to a province. Zenobia, after being defeated in two severe battles, retired with her forces to Palmyra, her capital, fortified it, and resolved never to surrender. Aurelian invested the city with his entire army, and in the course of the siege was severely wounded by an arrow, and being thus disabled, the progress of the siege was so far retarded as to give the citizens of Rome occasion to utter against him bitter invectives, and to question the character of the "arrow" that had pierced him. In other words, they accused him of complicity. In his letter of self-justification to the senate, he says, "The Roman people speak with contempt of the war I am waging against a woman. They are ignorant of the character and the power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations of stones and arrows, and every species of missile weapons. The walls of the city are strongly guarded, and artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of punishment has armed her with desperate courage. Still I trust in the gods for a favorable result."

In this letter the stern and proud Roman general frankly admits the might of woman. Feeling humiliated and almost despairing of success, he now attempted to procure a surrender of the city by negotiation, and offered the most liberal advantages to the queen. In her reply she said to him, "It is not by negotiation, but by arms, that the submission you require of me can be obtained." This laconic reply was certainly worthy of a heroine and a queen. Yet after a protracted and desperate defence, and finding that her allies, instead of coming to her relief as they promised, had accepted bribes from the enemy to remain at a distance, she saw that all was lost, and mounting her fleetest dromedary, sought to escape into Persia, but was overtaken on the banks of the Euphrates and captured. When brought into the presence of her conqueror, and asked how she dared resist the power of Rome, she replied, "Because I recognize Aurelian alone as my sovereign."

Zenobia was sent to Rome to grace the triumph of Aurelian. She entered the city on foot, preceded by her own chariot, with which she had designed, in the event of having won the victory, to make her grand entry into Rome as the triumphant "Queen of the East." But the fortunes of war subverted her ambitious scheme, and subjected her to the mortification of gracing a Roman triumph; yet for this indignity she felt that she was somewhat compensated in knowing that her appearance in Rome would create a sensation. In the grand procession she followed her chariot, so laden with jewels and chains of gold as to require the support of a slave to prevent her from fainting beneath the weight.

After enjoying the satisfaction of a triumph, Aurelian treated his beautiful captive with kind consideration, and provided for her a delightful residence on the banks of the Tiber, where she passed the remainder of her days, honored by all as a matron of rare virtue and accomplishments. She lived to educate her daughters, and to see them contract noble alliances. Her descendants were ranked among the first citizens of Rome, and did not become extinct until after the fifth century.

Near the commencement of the fifteenth century there appeared in France a brilliant meteor,—a youthful maiden, whose development of character was as mystical as it was heroic. Joan of Arc was born of obscure parents, in an obscure village on the borders of Lorraine, and was bred in a school of simplicity. She possessed beauty, united with an amiable temper and generous sympathies. In her religious faith she was sincere, even angelic. Her love of country was ardent and irrepressible. Finding her country-men distracted by a bitter partisan feeling, she identified herself with the patriots, and desired to secure the coronation of Prince Charles, as the only means, in her belief, of restoring the authority of the legitimate government. The reigning king had become hopelessly demented, and anarchy prevailed in almost every part of his dominions.

The rival houses of Orleans and Burgundy were contending for the supremacy, and had entered upon a career of murder and massacre, instead of adopting a regular system of warfare. Both parties invoked the aid of the English, who interfered in behalf of Burgundy; but instead of affording relief, their interference only imposed still weightier calamities on the country. At this crisis a prophecy became current among the people, that a virgin would appear and rid France of her enemies. This prophecy reached the ear of Joan of Arc, and inspired her with the belief that she was the chosen one of Heaven to accomplish the work.