he assuredly would have attained. So keenly was Louis XIV. alive to the merit of this excellent soldier that, as may be gathered from many writers of the time, d'Artagnan was certain to have been raised to the dignity of a Maréchal of France had his varied and stormy life been spared a few years longer.

The autobiography closes on 1st May 1673, the day on which d'Artagnan at the head of his well-tried Mousquetaires escorted Louis XIV. from Paris on his way to take part in the siege of Maestricht, which had begun on 27th March. On Saturday, 24th June, a general assault took place, the general of the day being the gallant son of Charles II. and Lucy Walters our English Duke of Monmouth. It was sustained till Sunday morning, when the besieged managed to spring a couple of mines under the lines of the French, and the garrison under M. de Fariaux made a fierce sortie against their assailants, who had

been thrown into confusion by the explosion. The brunt fell on the Mousquetaires, of whom ninetyfive fell around their beloved captain. D'Artagnan perished on the field, "de quoy," says the 'Gazette de France, "Sa Majesté témoigna être sensiblement touchée, pour sa valeur et la confiance qu'elle avait en lui."

To this fitting close was brought a soldier's life. I have done no more than mention a few of the more salient points in a story of unusual interest, but in truth there is hardly a dull passage in these thousand and odd pages. It is not a book to edify young persons withal-there is a great deal in it that is exceedingly reprehensible; but to those of us who have bidden " bonjour lunettes! adieu fillettes!" it presents a singularly vivid picture of a stirring epoch, and reveals the secret springs which moved some of the most leading characters on the European stage.

HERBERT MAXWELL.

Or the 26,250 days which (after due allowance made for the little jangles of the sun and moon) are the up-cast of our living-time according to the wise man, that sage complains that no one produces anything exactly like the produce of its brother one day old. If it were so in the almanac of Solon, what can be expected now, when every day is supposed to achieve a long stride in advance of all previous ages, clapping their laurels on its own pert head? So have I seen a pretty little dear, with her hair upon her shoulders, dash out in front of the village mile-race, at half a skip from the winning-post, and scream out, "I have won it."

To me, in my quiet slow-go pace, it would have been more than enough, if the morrow had been content with its yesterday, and backed it up in a friendly style. But instead of that, it only cared to indorse the safe corollary—"All in all, a human creature is nothing more than accident." Accident to wit, just out of luck, according to the word there used, which bears no merry meaning. Perhaps this on the whole was my disgrace; for a friend's good luck should be one's own.

But could I put Tom Erricker in the most romantic scale of friendship (such as the Romans cultivated) against the heavenly Dariel ? Those Tusculans knew not such love as ours; because they had no such girls to love. However, let Tom have his say.

"BELOVED GEORGE,-You are my best friend. The only one that

understands me, in this smiling vale of tears. You may not have heard from me for some months, because I have had the finest shooting I have ever yet been blest with. It makes one despise all the partridges and pheasants, tame fowl of a lower order. Grouse, my dear boy, and blackcocks too, and we heard of capercailzie! Tell old Stocks-andstones, who was so stingy about his rabbits, that I blow my nail at him, as the poet says. But that is not half of it. The grub-the grubGeorge, you never came across the like. I am seven pounds heavier than when I came down, in spite of walking off two pounds per diem. The wind seems to blow it back into you. And you make it up at dinner-time; and then you have cigars, such as you never put between your teeth; and then half-a-dozen lovely girls, all ready to scratch one another's faces, to draw you for their pal at billiards. And did not I show them a dodge or two?

"But that reminds me that I had my choice; and I chose like the man who put the broom across the walk. I might have had beauty; I might have had fashion; I might have had wit, though I hate it in a girl, because they soon give you the worst of it. And I might have had noble birth; but that would never do, because she might be nasty about the forks and spoons, at the height of the most festive enterprise. She was very sweet upon me for as much as three days; and my aunt, who has £80,000 to leave, was wild to have a Lady Frances Erricker. But my Lady Fanny

made a wicked slip about the new process, that the Governor has given five pounds for, and expects to clear five thousand by it; and it was all over with her chance. She repented with many tears, and I forgave her, but could not see my way to put her on again; for her outside value was about a thou.; and she would cost more per ann. than that to keep.

"Well, I was just putting on my blinkers for another trot in single harness, when a little thing comes round my nose, and looks at me, and strokes my ears, and, by Jove, it was all up with me. Oh, she is such a little Venus, George! Small, as all the true sort are; but no mistake about her. Every time you look at her, you say to yourself

This is a girl; not an Amazon, nor an owl, nor an owl-faced Athenè, nor even the one who changed her sex, every time she struck a serpent. I may be wrong about that; never mind, my Loo will never want to be a Louis. In plain unvarnished fact, she is a duck, and that is what you want of them. Swans are not for me, nor eagles, least of all a cormorant. Her sweet name is Louisa Box; and I said a pretty thing to her. You know my little knack that way. I said, 'Loo Box, you have boxed my compass, and fetched it all to looward.' She could not quite take in my point, for no girl ever knows north from south; but she said, 'Oh, Tom, you are so clever!' while some of them would have boxed my ears; and Lady Fanny longed to do it.

"To cut a delicious tale too short, Louisa Box-who has £20,000 on the nail, which is not to be sneezed at, with tin going down and Thomas Erricker, of Lincoln's Inn, are to be joined in holy matrimony, at 11 A.M. next Saturday, and the devil take the hindmost. I have

been up to London for new togs, but could not get an hour to run down to you, and I know what a rumpus you are always in. This you will excuse of course. But I rely upon you, mind (and if you fail me it will not come off), to put yourself into your best array, and be best man on Saturday. You must come by the train which reaches Sheffield, 7.45 P.M. on Friday. I will meet you at the station, and we will have a blow-out at the Governor's, and I will put you up to everything.

And it would be kind if you would call at old Puckerpant's before you start, and bring my vestments with you. I have paid his bill; so that you can swear at him.

"Now, my dear fellow, this is a solemn matter. I feel the vitality of holy matrimony; and I trust my old pal to back me up. Last night I had a spasm in the plaster on my chest. I am not so strong as I was at College, and I shall never pull through it without you. sneak, if you desert the Tom who has done so much for you."

You are a

Any one of lofty altruistic soul, or even decent fidelity, would vote me a very paltry fellow, for doubting what to do in a case like this. It seemed an atrocious thing of Tom, and a pestilent piece of luck for me, to take me two hundred miles from home, at this very crisis of my life. Just when I meant to compel my father to call upon Sûr Imar; or if that could not be done, to bring sweet Dariel to see my mother, whose kind heart she would captivate. Then I would show her to Grace, and perhaps at some leisure to Jackson Stoneman; and look what becomes of their pride and their Saxon infatuation, after that! Was this and every other delightful plan to be put off, nobody knew how long, for the sake of a headlong cash and love-affair con

Or the 26,250 days which (after due allowance made for the little jangles of the sun and moon) are the up-cast of our living-time according to the wise man, that sage complains that no one produces anything exactly like the produce of its brother one day old. If it were so in the almanac of Solon, what can be expected now, when every day is supposed to achieve a long stride in advance of all previous ages, clapping their laurels on its own pert head? So have I seen a pretty little dear, with her hair upon her shoulders, dash out in front of the village mile-race, at half a skip from the winning-post, and scream out, "I have won it." Το me, in my quiet slow-go pace, it would have been more than enough, if the morrow had been content with its yesterday, and backed it up in a friendly style. But instead of that, it only cared to indorse the safe corollary-"All in all, a human creature is nothing more than accident." Accident to wit, just out of luck, according to the word there used, which bears no merry meaning. Perhaps this on the whole was my disgrace; for a friend's good luck should be one's own.

But could I put Tom Erricker in the most romantic scale of friendship (such as the Romans cultivated) against the heavenly Dariel? Those Tusculans knew not such love as ours; because they had no such girls to love. However, let Tom have his say.

"BELOVED GEORGE,-You are my best friend. The only one that

understands me, in this smiling vale of tears. You may not have heard from me for some months, because I have had the finest shooting I have ever yet been blest with. It makes one despise all the partridges and pheasants, tame fowl of a lower order.

Grouse, my dear boy, and blackcocks too, and we heard of capercailzie! Tell old Stocks-andstones, who was so stingy about his rabbits, that I blow my nail at him, as the poet says. But that is not half of it. The grub-the grubGeorge, you never came across the like. I am seven pounds heavier than when I came down, in spite of walking off two pounds per diem. The wind seems to blow it back into you. And you make it up at dinner-time; and then you have cigars, such as you never put between your teeth; and then half-a-dozen lovely girls, all ready to scratch one another's faces, to draw you for their pal at billiards. And did not I show them a dodge or two?

"But that reminds me that I had my choice; and I chose like the man who put the broom across the walk. I might have had beauty; I might have had fashion; I might have had wit, though I hate it in a girl, because they soon give you the worst of it. And I might have had noble birth; but that would never do, because she might be nasty about the forks and spoons, at the height of the most festive enterprise. She was very sweet upon me for as much as three days; and my aunt, who has £80,000 to leave, was wild to have a Lady Frances Erricker. But my Lady Fanny

1

made a wicked slip about the new process, that the Governor has given five pounds for, and expects to clear five thousand by it; and in was all over with her chance. She repented with many tears, and I forgave her, but could not see my way to put her on again; for her outside value was about a thoa; and she would cost more per ann than that to keep.

“Well, I was just putting on my blinkers for another trot in single harness, when a little thing ectes round my nose, and looks at me, and strokes my ears, and, by Jove, it was all up with me. Oh, she is such a little Venus, George! Small, as all the true sort are; but no mistake about her. Every time you look at her, you say to yourself

This is a girl; not an Amazon nor an owl, nor an owl-faced Athenè, nor even the one changed her sex, every time she struck a serpent. I may be wrong about that; never mind, my Loo will never want to be a Louis. In plain unvarnished fact, she is a duck, and that is what you want of them. Swans are not for me, nor eagles, least of all a cormorant Her sweet name is Louisa Box; and I said a pretty thing to her. You know my little knack that way. I said, 'Loo Box, you have boxed my compass, and fetched it all to looward.' She could not quite take in my point, for no girl ever knows north from south; bas she said, 'Oh, Tom, you are so clever!' while some of them world have boxed my ears; and Lady Fanny longed to do it.

"To cut a delicious tale too short, Louisa Box-who has £20,000 on the nail, which is not to be sneezed at, with tin going down—and Thomas Erricker, of Lincoln's Inn, are to be joined in holy matrimony, at 11 A.M. next Saturday, and the devil take the hindmost. I have