There was a remarkable personage, so denominated, who existed as a state prisoner in France during the latter part of the seventeenth century. The circumstances of this person form an historical enigma, which has occasioned much inquiry, and many conjectures. The authenticated particulars concerning the Iron Mask are as follows: - A few months after the death of Cardinal Maza-rin, there arrived at the isle of Saint 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 had is 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 mask was made entirely of iron, whence he acquired the title of The Man with the Irom Mask. His attendants had re-ceived orders to dispatch him, if he attempted to take off his mask or discover himself. He had been first confined at Pignerol, under the care of the governor, M. de St. Mars; and being 3ent thence to St. Marguerite, he was accompanied thither by the same person, who continued to have the charge of him. He was always treated with the utmost 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 tn-to' yoit (thee'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 ever sat down in his presence without being desired. The Marquis of Louvoisis, who went to see him at St. Marguerite, spoke to him standing, and with those marks of attention which denote high cespect.

During his residence there, 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, to 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 isle, 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 alarm, 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 that isle till 1698, when M. St. Mars, being promoted to the government of the Bas-tile, conducted his prisoner to that fortress. In his way thither, he stopt with him at his estate near Palteau. The Mask arrived there in a litter, surrounded by a numerous guard on horseback. M. de St. Mars ate 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, 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 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 his journey, the 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 Bastile. 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 wish for, was instantly procured him. His table was the best that could be provided, and he was supplied with as rich clothes as he desired; but his chief taste in this last particular was for lace, and for linen remarkably fine. He was allowed the use of such books as he requested, and he spent much of his time in reading. He also amused himself with playing on the guitar. He had the liberty of going to mass; but was then strictly forbid 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 Bastile, 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; and that he never complained of his confinement, nor let fall any hint, by which it might be guessed who he was. 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 Marchiali; 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. Immediately after bis death, his apparel, linen clothes, mattresses, and in short, every thing that had been used by him, were burnt; the walls of his room were scraped, and the floor taken up, evidently from the apprehension that he might have found means of writing something 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-frames and doors burnt; and the ceiling of the room, and the plaster of the inside of the chimney, demolished.