rors of Germany, recruited their shattered ranks from time to time from the Lanzknechts of the German principalities, and finally drew the whole German confederation into the war. In this stage of the struggle, the representative of the Protestant principle both in Bohemia and in Germany was that Frederick, Elector Palatine, who married Elizabeth Stuart, the sister of Charles First of England, and who lost both kingdom and palatinate in the sequel. This period, from 1618 to 1625, was called "the war of the Palatinate."

Then Denmark and Sweden stepped into the arena as the champions of menaced Protestantism, retrieving "the good old cause" by the victories of Gustavus Adolphus; the last of which was sealed by the heroic death of that great captain. This formed the Danish and Swedish stage of the war, lasting from 1625 until 1634.

Meantime, to the support of Austria and Catholic Germany, had come Spain under Philip II., the most bigoted king in history. She drew in her train Naples, Sicily, Milan, indeed the entire Italian peninsula; so that

the Catholic powers were almost a unit in this attempt finally to suppress German and Slavonian Protestantism. In this posture stood Latin Europe, while religious liberty was unable to foresee from whence its muster should come.

At this desperate crisis, contrary to all ordinary calculation, a Catholic power charged to the rescue. France, witnessing the rapid strides of Spain, its rival, towards universal empire, and frightened by the extraordinary and inimical influence which that kingdom had acquired in Continental politics, had long secretly opposed the allies through Swedish subsidies and diplomatic services in Germany. Upon the death of Gustavus Adolphus, perceiving that the time had come either to give up all hope of French supremacy, or energetically to reinforce succumbing Protestantism, Richelieu, the great statesman who then wielded the destinies of France, did not hesitate to fling the immense weight of the French arms into the scale of battle. France was, to be sure, a Catholic power, but of a very different type from Spain. Huguenot principles had so

leavened her Catholicism, that it was capable, when necessary, of splendid inconsistencies. And as for Richelieu, though he was professedly a cardinal of the Roman see, he was really a secular statesman of the rarest genius and foresight.

The year 1635 had been signalized by a magnificent burst of simultaneous strategy, which crackled over Europe. Richelieu had declared war against Spain as well as against the German emperor; he had established more intimate relations with Oxenstiern, the famous Swedish minister; the wreck of the Protestant forces had been taken into French pay; an alliance had been concluded with the statesgeneral of Holland; and French armies had invaded Italy, Germany, Spain, and the Netherlands. Thus began the final, or "French period" of this historic war, to which there was to be no end until the peace of Westphalia in 1648.

Such is a brief résumé of the origin and various phases of "The Thirty Years' War," up to the year 1638. When Milton arrived in Paris, three years of the "French period

had already elapsed. The marchings and countermarchings of the opposing armies were the universal theme of conversation: Bernard of Weimar, D'Enghien, Turenne--the names of these military heroes were blazing brightly, while along the lines of the generals were creeping negotiators as famous in their diplomatic craft, breaking Richelieu's threads, or knitting them more firmly together.

With matters of such moment as the topics. of his familiar gossip, Milton, after a brief stay in the giddy French metropolis, continued his journey in a leisurely way through southern France towards the Italian frontier, taking in his route Lyons, Provence, and the Rhone, and entering Italy at Nice.

He had taken care, before leaving home, to provide himself with numerous letters of introduction to distinguished foreign savants, and had thus, while at Paris, made the acquaintance of the famous Dutch writer, Grotius, who was then residing at that capital in the capacity of Swedish minister. So far as regarded funds, his father had amply provided for him, and he took with him also one servant.

There is much about Italy to attract scholarly and poetic minds. Its thronging historic remembrances; its treasures of art; its vocal ruins; its marvellous climate, with the deliciously "soft wind blowing from the blue heaven;" its landscapes of plains and terraces, rich with corn and wine, adorned with olive-groves, or picturesque with garden and villa, the scene on one side reaching to the peaks of the Apennines, bounded on the other by the blue Mediterranean which kisses the Italian strand. Yes, there is very much in Italy to awaken the passionate interest even of the most prosaic intellect. How then must it have affected Milton, who had studied its history and dreamed of its fatal beauty from a boy, through whose mind trooped the figures of its mighty sons, who had learned its glorious legends by heart.

But with Milton, the poet did not exclude the statesman and the Christian. He meant to acquaint himself thoroughly with the manners and the politics of those peoples with whom he might sojourn. He meant also to study Catholicism in its action at home, and to know