or MASK, a cover for the face, contrived with apertures for the eyes and mouth; originally worn chiefly by women of condition, either to preserve their complexion from the weather, or out of modesty to prevent their being known. Poppea, wife of Nero, is said to be the first inventor of the masque; which she did to guard her complexion from the sun and weather, as being the most delicate woman, with regard to her person, that has been known.

Theatrical masques were in common use both among the Greeks and Romans: Suidas and Athenaeus ascribe the invention of them to the poet Choerilus, a contemporary of Theophrastus; Horace attributes them to Alcman; but Aristotle informs us, that the real inventor, and consequently the time of their first introduction and use, were unknown. Brantome observes, that the common use of modern masques was not introduced till towards the end of the sixteenth century.

Masque is also used to signify anything used to cover the face, and prevent a person's being known. The penitents of Lyons and Avignon hide their faces with large white veils, which serve them for masques.

The Iron Masque (Masque de Fer), or Man with the iron masque, a remarkable personage so denominated, who existed as a state prisoner in France during the latter part of the last century. As the circumstances of this person form a historical problem which has occasioned much inquiry, and given rise to many conjectures, as well as of late, in consequence of the destruction of the Bastile, excited in a particular manner the curiosity of the public, it shall be endeavoured to condense in this article the substance of every thing material that has been published on the subject. We shall first relate such particulars concerning this extraordinary prisoner as appear to be well authenticated; and shall afterwards mention the different opinions and conjectures that have been entertained with regard to his real quality, and the causes of his confinement.

I. The authenticated particulars concerning the iron Masque are as follows:—A few months after the death of Cardinal Mazarine, there arrived at the isle of Sainte Marguerite, in the sea of Provence, a young prisoner whose appearance was peculiarly attracting: his person was above the middle size, and elegantly formed; his mien and deportment were noble, and his manners graceful; and even the sound of his voice, it is said, had in it something uncommonly interesting. On the road he constantly wore a mask made with iron springs, to enable him to eat without taking it off. It was at first believed that this masque was made entirely with iron; whence he acquired the name of "the Man with the iron mask." His attendants had received orders to dispatch him if he attempted to take off his masque or discover himself.—He had been first confined at Pignerol, under the care of the governor M.de St Mars; and upon being sent from thence to Sainte Marguerite, he was accompanied thither by the same person, who continued to have the charge of him. He was always treated with the most marked respect: he was served constantly in plate; and the governor himself placed his dishes on the table, retiring immediately after and locking the door behind him. He tu-doyou (thou'd and thou'd) the governor; who, on the other hand, behaved to him in the most respectful manner, and never wore his hat before him, nor sat down in his presence unless he was desired. The Marquis de Louvois, who went to see him at St Marguerite, spoke to him standing, and with that kind of attention which denotes high respect. During his residence here, he attempted twice, in an indirect manner, to make himself known. One day he wrote something with his knife on a plate, and threw it out of his window towards a boat that was drawn on shore near the foot of the tower. A fisherman picked it up and carried it to the governor. M. de St Mars was alarmed at the sight; and asked the man with great anxiety, whether he could read, and whether any one else had seen the plate? The man answered, that he could not read, that he had but just found the plate, and that no one else had seen it. He was, however, confined till the governor was well assured of the truth of his assertions.—Another attempt to discover himself proved equally unsuccessful. A young man who lived in the ile, one day perceived something floating under the prisoner's window; and on picking it up, he discovered it to be a very fine shirt written all over. He carried it immediately to the governor; who, having looked at some parts of the writing, asked the lad, with some appearance of anxiety, if he had not had the curiosity to read it? He protested repeatedly that he had not; but two days afterwards he was found dead in his bed.

The Masque de Fer remained in this ile till the year 1698, when M. St Mars being promoted to the government of the Batile, conducted his prisoner to that fortress. In his way thither, he stopped with him at his estate near Palteau. The Masque arrived there in a litter, surrounded by a numerous guard on horseback. M. de St Mars sat at the same table with him all the time they resided at Palteau; but the latter was always placed with his back towards the windows; and the peasants, who came to pay their compliments to their master, and whom curiosity kept constantly on the watch, observed that M. de St Mars always sat opposite to him with two pistols by the side of his plate. They were waited on by one servant only, who brought in and carried out the dishes, always carefully shutting the door both in going out and returning. The prisoner was always masked, even when he passed through the court; but the people saw his teeth and lips, and also observed that his hair was grey.—The governor slept in the same room with him, in a second bed that was placed in it on that occasion. In the course of their journey, the iron-mask was, one day, heard to ask his keeper whether the king had any design on his life? "No, Prince," he replied; "provided that you quietly allow yourself to be conducted, your life is perfectly secure."

The stranger was accommodated as well as it was possible to be in the Batile. An apartment had been prepared for him by order of the governor before his arrival, fitted up in the most convenient style; and every thing he expressed a desire for was instantly procured him. His table was the best that could be provided; and he was ordered to be supplied with as rich clothes as he desired: but his chief taste in this last particular was for lace, and for linen remarkably fine. It appears that he was allowed the use of such books as he desired, and that he spent much of his time in reading. He also amused himself with playing upon the guitar. He had the liberty of going to mas; but was then strictly forbidden to speak or uncover his face: orders were even given to the soldiers to fire upon him if he attempted either; and their pieces were always pointed towards him as he passed through the court. When he had occasion to see a surgeon or a physician, he was obliged, under pain of death, constantly to wear his mask. An old physician of the Batile, who had often attended him when he was indisposed, said, that he never saw his face, though he had frequently examined his tongue, and different parts of his body; that there was something uncommonly interesting in the sound of his voice; and that he never complained of his confinement, nor let fall from him any hint by which it might be guessed who he was. It is said that he often passed the night in walking up and down his room.

This unfortunate prince died on the 19th of November 1703, after a short illness; and was interred next day in the burying-place of the parish of St Paul. The expense of his funeral amounted only to forty livres. The name given him was Marchioli: and even his age, as well as his real name, it seemed of importance to conceal; for in the register made of his funeral, it was mentioned that he was about forty years old; though he had told his apothecary, some time before his death, that he thought he must be sixty.—It is a well known fact, that immediately after the prisoner's death, his apparel, linen, clothes matrasses, and in short every thing that had been used by him, were burnt; that the walls of his room were scraped, the floor taken up, evidently from the apprehension that he might have found means of writing anything that would have discovered who he was. Nay such was the fear of his having left a letter or any mark which might lead to a discovery, that his plate was melted down; the glass was taken out of the window of his room and pounded to dust; the window-frame and doors burnt; and the ceiling of the room, and the plaster of the inside of the chimney, taken down. Several persons have affirmed, that the body was buried without a head; and Monsieur de Saint Foix informs us, that "a gentleman having bribed the sexton, had the body taken up in the night, and found a stone instead of the head."

The result of these extraordinary accounts is, that the iron masque was not only a person of high birth, but must have been of great consequence; and that his being concealed was of the utmost importance to the king and ministry. We come now, therefore, to notice,

11. The opinions and conjectures that have been formed concerning the real name and condition of this remarkable personage. Some have pretended that he was the duke of Beaufort; others, that he was the Count de Vermandois, natural son to Louis XIV., by the duchess de la Valliere. Some maintain him to have been the duke of Monmouth, natural son of Charles II. of England by Lucy Walters; and others say, that he was Gerolamo Magni, minister to the duke of Modena.

Besides these conjectures, none of which possesses sufficient probability to entitle them to consideration, a fifth has been advanced; namely, That the Iron Masque was a son of Anne of Austria, queen to Louis XIII., and consequently that he was a brother of Louis XIV.; but whether a bastard brother, a brother- ther-german, or a half brother, is a question that has given rise to three several opinions, which we shall state in the order of time in which the respective transactions to which they allude happened.

1. The first opinion is, that the queen proved with child at a time when it was evident it could not have been by her husband, who, for some months before, had never been with her in private. The supposed father of this child is said by some to have been the duke of Buckingham, who came to France in May 1625, to conduct the princess Henrietta, wife of Charles I., to England. The private letters and memoirs of those times speak very suspiciously of the queen and Buckingham; his behaviour at Amiens, whither the queen and queen-mother accompanied the princess in her way to Boulogne, occasioned much whispering; notwithstanding the pains that have been taken by La Porte in his Memoires to excuse his mistress, it appears that the king, on this occasion, was extremely offended at her, and that it required all the influence and address of the queen-mother to effect a reconciliation. It is said, that this child was privately brought up in the country; that when Mazarin became a favourite, he was entrusted with the care of him; and that Louis XIV., having discovered the secret on the death of the cardinal, thought it necessary to confine him in the manner that has been related.

But it may be observed, that this secret could scarcely have escaped the vigilance of the cardinal de Richlieu; and it is not improbable, that a minister so little scrupulous, if inclined to save the honour of a queen, would have removed a child, who, if he lived, might have been made use of to disturb the tranquillity of the kingdom. After this supposed birth, the queen had frequent quarrels with the king, and, what was more dangerous, with the cardinal; who even used every means in his power to enquire into her most private transactions. It was on a memorable occasion of this kind, that her servant La Porte was thrown into the Bastille; and it can scarcely be imagined she would have had the firmness then displayed, while conscious of so much guilt, and under the risk of having it discovered. The prisoner with the masque appears, by several accounts, to have been a youth of a handsome figure in the year 1661; and in 1703, when he died, to have been above sixty; but had he been a son of Buckingham, he would have been about thirty-five in 1661, when he could not be said to have been a youth; and in November 1703, above seventy-eight.

2. The second opinion is, that he was the twin-brother of Louis XIV., born some hours after him. This first appeared in a short anonymous work published without date, and without the name of place or printer. It is therein said, "Louis XIV. was born at St Germain-en-Laye, on the 5th of September 1638, about noon; and the illustrious prisoner, known by the appellation of the Iron masque, was born the same day, while Louis XIII. was at supper. The king and the cardinal, fearing that the pretensions of a twin-brother might one day be employed to renew those civil wars with which France had been so often afflicted, cautiously concealed his birth, and sent him away to be brought up privately. Having but an imperfect knowledge of the circumstances that followed, I shall say nothing more, for fear of committing errors; but I firmly believe the fact I have mentioned; and time will probably prove to my reader, that I have ground for what I have advanced."

This opinion has been more noticed since the publication of a work called Memoires du Marechal Duc de Richlieu, written by the Abbé Soulavie; concerning which it may be proper to premise, that the present duke of Richlieu, son of the maréchal, disavows this work; while the Abbé Soulavie, who had been employed by the maréchal, insists on the authenticity of his papers (a). He informs us, that the duke of Richlieu was the lover of Mademoiselle de Valois, daughter of the regent duke of Orleans, and afterwards duchess of Modena, who in turn was passionately fond of him; that the regent had something more than a paternal affection for his daughter; and that, though he held his sentiments in abhorrence, the duke of Richlieu made use of her influence with her father to discover the secret of the prisoner with the masque; that the regent, who had always observed the most profound silence on this subject, was at last prevailed upon to entrust her with a manuscript, which she immediately sent to her lover, who took a copy of it. This manuscript is supposed to have been written by a gentleman on his death-bed, who had been the governor of the prisoner. The following is an extract of it, from what the Abbé Soulavie has told us.

"The birth of the prisoner happened in the evening of the 5th of September 1638, in presence of the chancellor, the bishop of Meaux, the author of the manuscript, a midwife named Peronète, and a squire Honorat. This circumstance greatly disturbed the king's mind; he observed, that the Salique law had made no provision for such a case; and that it was even the opinion of some, that the last born was the first conceived, and therefore had a prior right to the other. By the advice of cardinal de Richlieu, it was therefore resolved to conceal his birth, but to preserve his life, in case by the death of his brother it should be necessary to avow him. A declaration was drawn up, and signed and sworn to by all present, in which every circumstance was mentioned, and several marks on his body described. This document being sealed by the chancellor with the royal seal, was delivered to the king; and all were commanded and took an oath never to speak on the subject, not even in private and among themselves. The child was delivered to the care of Madame Peronète the midwife, to be under the direction of cardinal de Richlieu, at whose death the charge devolved to cardinal de Mazarin. Mazarin appointed the author of the manuscript his governor, and entrusted to him the care of his education. But as the prisoner was extremely attached to Madame Peronète, and she equally so to him, she remained with him till her death. His governor carried him to his house in Burgundy,

(a) A letter from the duke of Richlieu, and an answer from the Abbé Soulavie, appeared in the Journal de Paris. gundy, where he paid the greatest attention to his education.

"As the prisoner grew up, he became impatient to discover his birth, and often importuned his governor on that subject. His curiosity had been roused, by observing that messengers from the court frequently arrived at the house; and a box, containing letters from the queen and the cardinal, having one day been inadvertently left out, he opened it, and saw enough to guess at the secret. From that time he became thoughtful and melancholy, which (says the author) I could not then account for. He shortly after asked me to get him a portrait of the late and present king, but I put him off by saying that I could not procure any that were good. He then desired me to let him go to Dijon; which I have known since was with an intention of seeing a portrait of the king there, and of going secretly to St John de Lus, where the court then was on occasion of the marriage with the infanta. He was beautiful; and love helped him to accomplish his wishes. He had captivated the affections of a young housekeeper, who procured him a portrait of the king. It might have served for either of the brothers; and the discovery put him into so violent a passion, that he immediately came to me with the portrait in his hand, saying, 'Voila mon frere, et voila qui je suis,' showing me at the same time a letter of the cardinal de Mazarin that he had taken out of the box."

Upon this discovery his governor immediately sent an express to court to communicate what had happened, and to desire new instructions; the consequence of which was, that the governor and the young prince under his care were arrested and confined."

This memoir, real or fictitious, concludes with saying, "I have suffered with him in our common prison: I am now summoned to appear before my Judge on high; and for the peace of my soul I cannot but make this declaration, which may point out to him the means of freeing himself from his present ignominious situation, in case the king his brother should die without children. Can an extorted oath compel me to observe secrecy on a thing so incredible, but which ought to be left on record to posterity?"

3. The third opinion is, that he was a son of the queen by the cardinal de Mazarin, born about a year after the death of her husband Louis XIII.; that he was brought up secretly; and that soon after the death of the cardinal, which happened on the 9th of March 1661, he was sent to Pignerol. To this account Father Griffet* objects, "that it was needless to masquer a face that was unknown; and therefore that this opinion does not merit discussion." But in answer it has been observed, That the prisoner might strongly resemble Louis XIV. which would be a sufficient reason to have him masked. This opinion is supposed to have been that entertained by Voltaire, who affirms his thorough knowledge of the secret, though he declined being altogether explicit. The Abbé Soulavie, author of Memoirs of the Maréchal de Richelieu, speaking on this subject, says, "That he once observed to the Maréchal, that he certainly had the means of being informed who the prisoner was; that it even seemed that he had told Voltaire, who durst not venture to publish the secret; and that he at last asked him, whether he was not the elder brother of Louis XIV. born without

the knowledge of Louis the XIII.? That the maréchal seemed embarrassed, but afterwards said, that he was neither the bastard brother of Louis the XIV. nor the duke of Monmouth, nor the count of Vermandois, nor the duke of Beaufort, as different authors had advanced; that their conjectures were nothing but reveries: but added, that they however had related many circumstances that were true; that in fact the order was given to put the prisoner to death if he discovered himself; and that he finished the conversation by saying, All I can tell you on the subject is, that the prisoner was not of such consequence when he died at the beginning of the present century as he had been at the beginning of the reign of Louis the XIV. and that he was shut up for important reasons of state." The Abbé Soulavie tells us, that he wrote down what had been said, and gave it to the Marechal to read, who corrected some expressions. The Abbé having proposed some further questions, he answered, "Read what Voltaire published last on the subject of the prisoner with the masque, especially at the end, and reflect on it."—The passage of Voltaire alluded to is as follows.

"The man with the masque (says he) is an enigma of which every one would guess the meaning. Some have said that it was the duke of Beaufort; but the duke of Beaufort was killed by the Turks in the defense of Candy in 1669, and the prisoner with the masque was at Pignerol in 1661. Besides, how could the duke of Beaufort have been arrested in the midst of his army, and brought to France, without any one knowing it? and why confine him? and why that mark?—Others have dreamed that he was the count de Vermandois, natural son of Louis XIV. who died publicly at the army in 1683 of the small-pox, and was buried at the little town of Aire and not Arras; in which Father Griffet was mistaken, but in which to be sure there is no great harm.—Others have imagined, that it was the duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded publicly in London in the year 1685. But for this he must have risen again from the dead, and he must have changed the order of time, and placed the year 1662 in the room of the year 1685. King James, who never forgave any one, and who on that account deserved all that happened to him, must have pardoned the duke of Monmouth, and got another to die in his stead, who perfectly resembled him. This Sofia must first have been found, and then he must have had the goodness to let his head be cut off in public, to save the duke of Monmouth. It was necessary that all England should be mistaken; and that King James should beg of Louis XIV. to be obliged as to be his gaoler; that Louis XIV., after having shown this trifling piece of civility to King James, should not have been wanting in the same attention to his friend King William and to Queen Anne (with both of whom he was engaged in war), and to please them, retained the dignity of gaoler, with which James had honoured him.

"All these illusions being dissipated, it then remains to know who this prisoner was, and at what age he died. It is clear, that if he was not permitted to cross the court of the Bastile, or to speak to his physician, except covered with a masque, it must have been from the apprehension that his features and countenance..." nance might have discovered some resemblance. He could show his tongue, but not his face. He said himself to the apothecary of the Bastile, a few days before his death, that he believed he was about 60. Mr Marsoban, who was son-in-law to this apothecary, and surgeon to the marshal de Richlieu, and afterwards to the regent duke of Orleans, told me this frequently. Why give him an Italian name?—They always called him Marchiali. He who writes this article perhaps knows more than Father Grisset, but he will say nothing farther.

This opinion has been lately resumed, illustrated, and enforced, by M. de Saint Mihiel, in a work intitled Le Véritable Homme, &c. “The real Man with the Iron Masque.” The author, in support of his idea, attempts to prove that Anne of Austria and Cardinal Mazarine were married. This, says he, the duchess of Orleans affirms us of in three of her letters. In the first, dated Sept. 13, 1713, she expresses herself as follows: “Old Beauvais, who was first lady of the bed-chamber to the queen-dowager, was acquainted with the secret of the ridiculous marriage; this rendered it necessary for the queen to do everything that her confidant wished; and this circumstance has given rise in this country to an extension of the rights of first ladies of the bedchamber.” In the second of these letters, dated Nov. 2, 1717, she says, “The queen-mother, widow of Louis XIII. did worse than love Cardinal Mazarine; she married him, for he was not a priest: he was not even in orders; and who could have hindered her? He was most horribly tired of the good queen-mother, and lived on very bad terms with her, which is the reward that people deserve for entering into such marriages.” In her third letter, dated July 2, 1719, speaking of the queen, the duchess says, “She was perfectly easy respecting Cardinal Mazarine; he was not a priest, and therefore nothing could prevent their being married. The secret passage through which the Cardinal went every evening to the queen’s apartment is still to be seen at the Palais-Royal.” Among other proofs besides the above, which M. de St Mihiel brings to substantiate this marriage, he observes, that Mazarine held all councils of state in his apartment whilst he was shaving or dressing; that he never permitted any person to sit down in his presence, not even the chancellor nor marshal de Villeroi; and that while they were deliberating with him on state affairs he would be often playing with his monkey or linnet. What man (continues the author) would have subjected to such humiliations a chancellor, who holds the first office in the kingdom since that of constable has been suppressed, and a marshal who was governor to the king, had he not been in reality a sovereign himself, in virtue of his being husband to the queen-regent? He therefore concludes, that the man with the iron masque was son to Anne of Austria and Cardinal Mazarine; and endeavours to justify this assertion by a variety of conjectural proofs. Of some of these we shall give a short sketch:

1. No prince, or person of any consideration, after the year 1644, at which time the man with the iron masque was born, until the time when his existence was known, disappeared in France. This personage, therefore, was not a prince or great lord of France known at that time.

2. The man with the iron masque was not a foreigner; for foreigners, even of the highest distinction, did not at that period study the French language in such a manner as to attain so great perfection in it as to pass for Frenchmen. If this prisoner had spoken with the least foreign accent, the officers, physicians, surgeons, apothecaries, confessors, and others employed in the prisons where he was, and especially the prisoners with whom he conversed at St Margaret, would not have failed to discover it. From all this M. de St Mihiel infers that he must have been a Frenchman.

3. The existence of the man with the iron masque has been known for upwards of 90 years. Had any person of high rank disappeared at an anterior period, his friends, relations, or acquaintances, would not have failed to claim him, or at least to suppose that he was the man concealed by this masque. But no one disappeared, nor was any one claimed: the man with the iron masque was therefore a person unknown.

4. This man was not torn away from society on account of any criminal action; for when he was arrested, it was foreseen that he would cause much embarrassment, and occasion great expenses. He was therefore not a criminal, else means would have been pursued to get rid of him; and consequently all the importance of his being concealed was attached solely to his person.

5. This stranger must have been a person of very high birth; for the governor of the prison St Mars behaved always to him with the greatest respect.

6. Louis XIII. played on the guitar; Louis XIV. did the same in a very masterly manner; and the man with the iron masque played also on that instrument: which gives us reason to believe that his education was directed by the same persons who had presided over that of Louis XIV. and who appear to have been the particular choice of Anne of Austria.

7. This stranger died on the 19th of November 1703; and a few days before his death, he told the apothecary of the Bastile, that he believed he was about 60 years of age. Supposing that he was then 59 and a half, he must have been born towards the end of May 1644; and if he was 60 wanting three months, he must have been born in the end of August, or the beginning of September, of the same year; a period when the royal authority was in the hands of Anne of Austria, but in reality exercised more by Mazarine than by her. “I have already proved (continues the author), that from the first day of the regency of Anne of Austria, the greatest friendship, and even intimacy, subsisted between this princess and the cardinal; that these sentiments were changed into a mutual love; and that they were afterwards united by the bonds of marriage. They might, therefore, well have a son about the month of September 1644, as Louis XIII. had been then dead more than 15 months, having died on the 13th of May the year preceding. But nothing of what I have related, or of what has been written, and acknowledged as fact, respecting the man with the iron mask, can be applied, except to a son of Mazarine and Anne of Austria. The man with the iron mask was indebted, therefore, for his existence to cardinal Mazarine, and the regent widow of Louis XIII.”—To account for the the manner in which the queen was able to conceal her pregnancy and delivery, Madame de Motteville is quoted; who relates, under the year 1644, that Anne of Austria quitted the Louvre, because her apartments there displeased her; that she went to reside at the Palais-Royal, which Richlieu, when he died, bequeathed to the deceased king; that when she first occupied this lodging, she was dreadfully afflicted with the jaundice; that the physicians ascribed this disorder to her dejection and application to business, which gave her much embarrassment; but that being cured of her melancholy, as well as of her malady, she resolved to think only of enjoying tranquillity; which she did, by communicating to her minister the burden of public affairs. On this quotation, M. de St Mihiel asks, "Is it not very singular, that the queen, who, during the 29 years of her former wedded state, had always resided in the Louvre, especially from 1626, when Louis XIII. ceased to cohabit with her, until their reunion, which took place in the beginning of December 1637, should have quitted it precisely in 1644, because she was displeased with her apartments? How happened it that her apartments displeased her this year, and neither sooner nor later? She might undoubtedly have had any kind of furniture there which she desired, and every alteration made according to her wishes, as she was then absolute mistress; but the cause of her determination is plain; the apartments of the Palais-Royal, which front a garden, were much more convenient for her to be delivered in secret."

8. As it is necessary that some name should be given to every man, in order to distinguish him from another, that of Marchiali was given to the man with the iron mask; a name which evidently shows, that it had been invented by an Italian. [Cardinal Mazarine was a native of Pescina in the Abruzzo.]

9. Anne of Austria was remarkably delicate respecting every thing that touched her person. It was with great difficulty that cambric could be found fine enough to make shifts and sheets for her. Cardinal Mazarine once rallying her on this subject, said, "That if she should be damned, her punishment in hell would be to sleep in Holland sheets." The predominant taste of the man with the iron mask, was to have lace and linen of the most extraordinary finenesses. "Who (says the author) does not perceive, in this similarity of tastes, the maternal tenderest of Anne of Austria, who would have thought her son a great sufferer had he not been indulged with fine linen?"

"Louis XIII. (continues M. de St Mihiel) was a husband of a gloomy disposition, and an enemy to pleasure: while the queen, on the contrary, was fond of social life; and introduced at the court of France, especially after she became free, that ease and politeness which distinguished it under Louis XIV. from all the other courts of Europe. Louis XIII. had also a disagreeable countenance, and a breath so offensive, that it was a punishment for Richlieu to remain near him. It is clear, therefore, that she could not be much pleased with such a husband. When she became regent of the kingdom by the king's death, which happened on the 14th of May 1643, as she had not enjoyed that happiness which arises from a close union of hearts, it will not appear extraordinary that she should indulge the affection she entertained for cardinal Mazarine, and that she should marry him. Every circumstance that could tend to favour such a marriage will be found united in her situation. She was at a distance from her family; absolute mistress of all her actions; and had, besides, a heart formed for love. Mazarine, though a cardinal, had never entered into orders; he gave out that he was descended from a great family; he was handsome and well made; he was of a mild, infusing disposition, and remarkably engaging in conversation; and his office, as prime minister, afforded him every opportunity of visiting and conversing with the queen whenever he thought proper. Is it, therefore, so very astonishing, that, with so many advantages, he was able to captivate the queen so far as to induce her to marry him? Such a marriage was not, indeed, according to the usual course of things. Yet it was not without many precedents, particularly among sovereigns of the other sex, who had given their hands to persons of inferior rank. Thus Christian IV. of Denmark espoused Christina Monck; Frederick IV. espoused Mademoiselle Rentenlau; James II., heir to the throne of England, married the daughter of a counsellor; Peter the Great raised to the throne Catherine I., the daughter of a poor villager, yet perhaps the most accomplished woman at that time between the Vistula and the pole; and Louis XIV. espoused the widow of a poet, but a woman possessed of the most extraordinary merit. As the women, however, are not forgiven so readily as the men for entering into such marriages, Anne of Austria kept hers a secret from this motive, and because she would have been in danger of losing the regency of the kingdom had it been known."

The reasoning of M. de St Mihiel is both ingenious and plausible; though the probability of the account is somewhat diminished by considering what must have been the queen's age at this period, after she had been Louis's wife for 29 years before his death.—The account immediately preceding, without this objection, seems abundantly credible. But whether, upon the whole, either of them can be received as decisive, or whether the mystery of the iron mask remains still to be unravelled, we must leave to the reader to determine.

architecture, is applied to certain pieces of sculpture, representing some hideous forms, grotesque, or satyrs faces, &c. used to fill up and adorn vacant places, as in friezes, the panels of doors, keys of arches, &c. but particularly in grottos.