the voice of a Man, who by the violence of his grief was forced to complain in that solitary place, before insensible witnesses. At the first sound that reached my ears, I stopt and lent attention, but not out of any emotion of curiosity which at that time had little room in my Soul. Antigenes who followed me staid as well as I, and we had not long continued attentive, but we distinctly heard the complaints of that afflicted Person.

Antigenes who had heard all as well as I: This man, said he, whosoever he is, eases his grief by his complaints, whilst another man more wise than he would have been seeking remedies for it. 'Tis, replied I smartly, because he is not a Villain, because he is not a Ravisher, and because he rather chooses to be miserable all his life, than to owe the end of his misery to his Crimes. You see how well he fares for it, answered Antigenes, and how happy his condition is, for having been so respectful and circumspect. 'Tis more happy than yours, said I, being much nettled and much concerned in this discourse, and besides that, he possibly hath the comfort of being beloved by a Person whom he serves with respect, as much as you are hated and detested by her, whom you use so basely; he hath the satisfaction of not being troubled with any remorse, whilst your Conscience may well torment you worse than the most cruel death.

I saw that Antigenes grew pale at these words, and was like one amazed, he changed his Color divers times in a moment, he trembled from head to foot, and he seemed to me in the condition of a Person that meditated upon some grand design. I confess that the changing of his Visage, and his troubled Countenance made me afraid, and seeing him in such a form as he had never appeared unto me before, I began to tremble myself out of an apprehension of fear which promised me no good. I was not fearful without reason; for the disloyal Villain approaching to me with a furious look: If I am so much hated, and so much detested by you, said he, I must merit this hatred and detestation by such actions as may secure you from the blame which you would have for hating me unjustly, and if I must be exposed to remorse, it should be for a Crime which may yield me some profit, and not for those respects and adorations which hitherto I have so unprofitably rendered you; my patience is stretched to its uttermost dimensions, and I will know this day, whether a heart which is invincible by love and pity can be tamed by any other ways.

Upon these words (I know not whether his action was pre meditated or not, as in probability it was, or whether the occasion prompted him to the design) having made a sign to his Brother, and another of those which followed him, they came at the same time to pull Ericlea and Melite from off my arms, who held by me on both sides, and Antigenes, putting himself in Ericlea's place, began to lead me by force towards the most private part of the Wood, whilst his Brother, and one of his Men, held my two Women by violence.

This action made me desperately afraid, and believing that in such an extremity a disguise was no longer necessary: Antigenes, said I, think of what thou goest about, and look no more upon me as an Unknown Delia, but as the Daughter of a great King, and as a Princess, who in what part soever of the World thou shalt retire to, will make the vengeance of thy Crime light heavy upon thy head.

I believe that Antigenes gave no credit to these words, which he thought I was inspired with by the pressing necessity wherein I was, to draw him off from his design, by the respect which they might imprint in him. Howsoever it was, he did not seem to be moved at them, and not vouchsafing so much as to give me a Reply, continued dragging me with all his force towards the most solitary part of the Wood. In this extremity I made the Wood to Echo with my cries, and my Women, whom they hindered from coming to my assistance, were as loud as I: Their cries and mine without doubt did us more good than our resistance could have done, and they drew a man to us, who was retired into that thick and solitary place, whom we presently knew to be the same, whose complaint we had heard a little before: He came out from between the Trees where he sought for silence and obscurity, and casting his eyes upon us, he presently saw the cause of our cries, and the violence they offered to us, and his grief not being capable to extinguish generous resentments in his Soul, and the remembrance of the succor that was due to oppressed Maids, he ran to us with more speed than could have been expected from the languishing and dejected condition wherein he appeared to us. Antigenes seeing him come, and fearing the hindrance of his design more than any other harm he could do him, being accompanied as he was, called his Brother, who, leaving my Women in the hands of two of his Men, came to Antigenes with the rest. This number did not trouble the Unknown, but addressing himself

to Antigenes without so much as looking upon the rest: Base fellow, said he, with an impetuous voice, stay and do not oblige me to give thee thy Death for a punishment of thy Crime. Antigenes, seeing himself fortified by the number of his Companions, mocked at the pride of the Unknown, and not vouchsafing to forbear from his design for him, he made a sign to his Brother either to stay him, or punish him: But he had to do with a man who was not easily corrected in that manner, and though he had no more than Antigenes and his Companions had, only his Sword, without any other arms, he presently presented it to the eyes of his Enemies, and fell upon them with as much assurance as if he had been backed by a greater number than theirs. O Gods! Philadelph, what proofs of Valor did he give us in a few moments, and what speedy execution did he make before our eyes, of five or six men, who seemed as nothing in his single hands. The first that fell under his Sword was the Brother of Antigenes, whose right arm he cut off at one blow, and made a large passage in his side, through which his Soul bare his Blood company: and almost at the same time having avoided a blow which another Enemy made at him, he thrust his bloody Sword into his body up to the hilts. I could see that action, and those he did afterwards, because perfidious Antigenes no sooner saw his Brother fall, but leaving me with a cry, he ran either to revenge his death or to bear him Company. These two which were left to guard my Women ran to Antigenes at his cry, and these three Enemies fell upon the valiant Unknown, just as he had cloven head and half the face of the last of the others with a back blow. He cared as little for these as he had done for the former, and picking out Antigenes between his two Companions, he gave him a mortal wound into the throat, with which he fell at his feet, and presently after was choked with his Blood and died. My valiant defender received at the same time a slight wound upon his side, which did but encourage him the more, and hastened the death of him who gave it; for as he was just turning his back to run away, he thrust his Sword into his reins, and laid him dead close by Antigenes. The last seeing so bloody an execution, had not confidence any longer to resist so terrible an Enemy, and committing his safety to the nimbleness of his heels, he ran across the Wood in a deadly fright.

A PORTRAIT GALLERY OF THE TIMES OF THE FRONDE.

BY CARDINAL DE RETZ.

[JEAN FRANÇOIS DE GONDI, CARDINAL DE RETZ, was born in 1613, of a family in which the archbishopric of Paris was hereditary; educated by St. Vincent de Paul, then by the Jesuit College of Clermont, in training for that post; but embroiled himself in politics, intrigued against Mazarin, procured his deposition and succeeded to his place, shortly after lost it and was imprisoned; escaped, but traveled abroad till Mazarin's death, though the archbishopric had fallen to him by his uncle's death. He resigned it, and retired to private life in Lorraine, where he wrote his " Mémoirs," and died in 1679.]

BEFORE I proceed to give you the detail of the civil war, suffer me to lead you into the gallery where you, who are an admirer of fine painting, will be entertained with the figures of the chief actors, drawn all at length in their proper colors, and you will be able to judge by the history whether they are painted to the life. Let us begin, as it is but just, with Her Majesty.

CHARACTER OF THE QUEEN.

The Queen excelled in that kind of wit which was becoming her circle, to the end that she might not appear silly before strangers; she was more ill-natured than proud, had more pride than real grandeur, and more show than substance; she loved money too well to be liberal, and her own interest too well to be impartial; she was more constant than passionate as a lover, more implacable than cruel, and more mindful of injuries than of good offices. She had more of the pious intention than of real piety, more obstinacy than well-grounded resolution, and a greater measure of incapacity than of all the rest.

CHARACTER OF THE DUKE D'ORLEANS.

The Duke d'Orleans possessed all the good qualities requisite for a man of honor except courage, but having not one quality eminent enough to make him notable, he had nothing in him to supply or support the weakness which was so predominant in his heart through fear, and in his mind through irresolution, that it tarnished the whole course of his life. engaged in all affairs, because he had not power to resist the importunities of those who drew him in for their own advantage, and came off always with shame for want of courage to go

He

on.

His suspicious temper, even from his childhood, deadened those lively, gay colors which would have shone out naturally with the advantages of a fine, bright genius, an amiable gracefulness, a very honest disposition, a perfect disinterestedness, and an incredible easiness of behavior.

CHARACTER OF THE PRINCE DE CONDÉ.

The Prince de Condé was born a general, an honor none could ever boast of before but Cæsar and Spinola; he was equal to the first, but superior to the second. Intrepidity was one of the least parts of his character. Nature gave him a genius as great as his heart. It was his fortune to be born in an age of war, which gave him an opportunity to display his courage to its full extent; but his birth, or rather education, in a family submissively attached to the Cabinet, restrained his noble genius within too narrow bounds. There was no care taken betimes to inspire him with those great and general maxims which form and improve a man of parts. He had not time to acquire them by his own application, because he was prevented from his youth by the unexpected revolution, and by a constant series of successes. This one imperfection, though he had as pure a soul as any in the world, was the reason that he did things which were not to be justified, that though he had the heart of Alexander so he had his infirmities, that he was guilty of unaccountable follies, that having all the talents of Francis de Guise, he did not serve the State upon some occasions as well as he ought, and that having the parts of Henry de Condé, his namesake, he did not push the faction as far as he might have done, nor did he discharge all the duties his extraordinary merit demanded from him.

CHARACTER OF THE DUKE DE LONGUEVILLE.

M. de Longueville, though he had the grand name of Orleans, together with vivacity, an agreeable appearance, generosity, liberality, justice, valor, and grandeur, yet never made any extraordinary figure in life, because his ideas were infinitely above his capacity. If a man has abilities and great designs, he is sure to be looked upon as a man of some importance; but if he does not carry them out, he is not much esteemed, which was the case with Longueville.