bravery, Wallenstein would for awhile banish the moroseness natural to him, and fill the soldier's heart with pride and pleasure, by calling him to the front, and pleasantly commending his bravery. He would slap him on the shoulder, and shout: "This is the man to whom the victory is due." On the other hand, the slightest neglect of duty would meet with stern punishment. The religion of his men did not trouble him at any time. He always preferred a talented Protestant to a Catholic whose abilities were inferior, and never allowed prejudices to bias his actions. A clever general, a strict disciplinarian, and possessed of iron will, he seemed perfectly adapted for the position he had assumed. The Electoral Princes doubted his ability to maintain such an enormous army out of his own private purse, but they did not yet quite understand Wallenstein. He was not too scrupulous about the means he adopted to further his plans. He intended his army to keep itself at the expense of any luckless town or district near which it might happen to be quartered. He knew that a large army would be able to dictate terms to any of the smaller states; and, secure of being able to keep his men together by enforcing supplies from others, he commenced his muster in Bohemia. Although the champion of the Catholic cause, he repeatedly expressed an aversion to compelling others to embrace a form of religion to which they objected, and thus managed to induce many competent Protestants to join his army. In the autumn of 1625, he commenced action, without obeying the Emperor's command to unite his forces with those of Tilly, who was at the head of the League. They were jealous of each other, and an amalgamation of the two armies was no more desired by Tilly than it was by Wallenstein.

It is not our present purpose to trace the different incidents of the Thirty Years War, except in so far as they bear upon Wallenstein; thus it will suffice us to say that his army was even larger than he anticipated, and that he rendered immense services to the Imperial cause. After a time, Tilly and he were induced to act in concert, and their power was now almost irresistible. Count Mansfeld, a formidable adversary, was defeated; several captured fortresses were recovered; the Elector of Brandenburg was forced to submit to the Emperor, and in many other ways was the gratitude of Ferdinand earned. Loud complaints were made by the harassed North Germans of the havoc and misery caused by Wallenstein's soldiers, who were allowed unlimited license, and exercised an unchecked system of oppression and rapacity. But Ferdinand, like Wallenstein, was only anxious

to secure his own interests, no matter at what cost to others, and made no effort to redress the grievances of his petitioners. On the contrary, he increased his favourite's importance, by making him Duke of Mecklenburg, Generalissimo on land, and Admiral of the | Baltic.

He speedily took steps to obtain possession of his new territory, Stralsund especially appearing of the greatest importance to him. But the citizens of Stralsund knew better than to submit quietly to the pillage and maltreatment which would inevitably be their portion, if the town fell into the hands of Wallenstein's soldiers, and they defended it with wonderful and unwearying bravery.

The Admiral of the Baltic had not a sufficient number of ships wherewith to close the harbour of Stralsund, and the besieged were able to obtain food supplies by water. The siege lasted several months, for Wallenstein had vowed to subdue Stralsund, “even if it were bound by chains to heaven." But, in spite of this determination, Stralsund was saved, for Gustavus Adolphus, the Swedish hero, succoured it, and Wallenstein was compelled to withdraw, after losing 12,000 men, and wasting several months.

Christian IV. of Denmark was now tired of the war, which had devastated all his lands, and, though his fleet had annihilated that of Wallenstein, he sued for peace. Wallenstein himself preferred such an issue at present; for the contiguity of his two duchies of Mecklenburg to Denmark, made an amicable relationship with the King of Denmark desirable to him. So a treaty of peace was concluded, in which Christian is accused by some of sacrificing the interests of many of his friends and supporters, in order to secure his own; whilst Wallenstein, as a matter of course, took care to make the bargain beneficial to himself.

Ferdinand, taking advantage of the dread inspired by Wallenstein, recommenced his former system of despotic oppression, and the Duke came to be looked upon as the author of all the mischief. The Catholic League, at the head of which was the Duke of Bavaria, hated him, and partly persuaded, partly coerced the Emperor into dismissing Wallenstein. The latter had for some time been aware of the intrigues pending against him, and accepted his deposition from office with a pleasant coolness and nonchalance which surprised his enemies, who had expected an angry resistance. To tell the truth, his favourite astrologer, Seni, had predicted his downfall, but had also announced that this same downfall would be but temporary, and would precede Wallenstein's accession to greater power and splendour. Thus arose his equanimity. He retired to Prague,

where he resided in a sumptuous palace, and was surrounded by his own Court. His magnificent style of living eclipsed that of the Emperor himself, and almost fabulous stories are told of the wonders and beauties of his palaces.

His motive for so cheerfully obeying the Emperor's order of dismissal, when he stood at the head of an army of 100,000 men, and could have dictated terms to the Emperor himself, was not as yet known to others, and the marvelling which ensued upon the act was incessant. He even gave valuable presents to the messengers who, with words, intended to be as pacifying as possible, brought him the news of his deposition.

His enemies were gratified to find that he apparently rejoiced in his inactivity, and concluded that, his greed being at last satisfied, he no longer cared for a soldier's life. But, while apparently devoting his time to the designing of new palaces, and to the pleasures of his Court, he was never more active in his life. Till far into the night he would occupy himself with a correspondence which extended its ramifications into every Court of Europe. He would trust no secretary's discretion, but wrote all his own letters. He was aware of all that was going on in the other German Courts, and knew that the time for renewed action on his part was fast approaching.

Tilly was dead; the Emperor's army had dwindled to 39,000; that of the League mustered only 30,000, and Gustavus Adolphus, who was now the Protestant leader, had already crossed the frontier, and commenced his series of victories. Everything pointed to Wallenstein as the only hope of the Empire, and Ferdinand abjectly supplicated him to succour it once more. For a long time Wallenstein pretended to be averse to doing so, but at last consented, on terms which constituted him absolute military ruler of the Empire.

In three months he was at the head of 40,000 men, and he spent out of his own purse 200,000 thalers in the outfit of his troops.

The Swedes were on the Danube, devastating Bavaria; and Wallenstein, in spite of entreaties, refused to aid the Duke of Bavaria, his old enemy, in the slightest degree, but revenged himself upon him by permitting the Swedes to lay his country in waste, until Austria being also threatened by them, he advanced as far as Eger. Gustavus now found it expedient to devote his attention to the Generalissimo's movements. For ten weeks the two armies, harassed by famine and sickness, opposed each other, each hoping that the other would weary and withdraw.

At last, after many mutual attacks and reprisals, the scene of action was shifted to the

Danube, and a decisive meeting occurred at the ever memorable battle of Lützen. The Swedes were victorious, but their victory was dearly bought, for their idolised King lost his life here in attaining it. Wallenstein announced to the Emperor that he had achieved a victory, but there are abundant proofs to show that he did not himself consider it a victory. He held a court-martial in Prague, and every soldier who was not considered to have fought bravely enough, was consigned to a terrible punishment. Proofs of actual cowardice did not need to be forthcoming to ensure condemnation. Among the officers, eleven were sentenced to die by the sword, and a great number were hanged.

So pitiless and arbitrary was Wallenstein's behaviour now, that he was dubbed "The Tyrant" by his own men, the very men who formerly looked up to him as an idol. The slightest complaint against one of his soldiers, it did not much matter whether it were with or without foundation, was enough to bring his favourite phrase to his lips: "Let the brute hang!" and hanged the poor fellow would be. The number of those who paid for Wallenstein's defeat with their lives was enormous.

He was more savage than ever, but did not for months recommence action against the Protestants. The whole winter he kept his army at a standstill, and did not leave his camp until the resources of the whole of the surrounding district were exhausted. Then he marched forwards to Silesia, but even here he adopted no decided course of action, although he had again an army of 40,000 men, while the united forces of the Saxons and Swedes did but amount to 24,000.

And now Wallenstein's actions are enveloped in mystery. Some say that he meditated and negotiated treaties with various Courts which were derogatory to the interests of the Empire, but were calculated to enhance his own power, whilst others maintain that these treaties were but ruses de guerre, intended to mislead the Protestants. Be this as it may, his questionable conduct in avoiding action, and in pretending to advance to Bavaria, where he was needed, and immediately retreating to Bohemia, where he and his army again spent a winter, proves indubitably, in the opinion of many, that the accusations of treachery levelled against him were not without foundation.

"He means to be King of Bohemia," said some. "He aspires to the Imperial Crown," said others, and this was the opinion of Ferdinand himself. He trembled on his throne, and anxiously cast about for means to demolish this power of his own creating; but it was no easy task to get rid of a man like Wallenstein. By means of lavish presents and preferments, he had, during his two winters

pages in his history. Apologists for Ferdinand assert that Wallenstein was a traitor to his country, and that he strove for Ferdinand's throne. The first accusation has never been proved, and, if the latter be true, could Wallen. stein have succeeded in his design, he would have been, at the present day, regarded with reverence, as one who had delivered his country from the vacillating, incompetent, and tyrannical rule of an Emperor who was never fit to occupy his high position.

of the man who had heaped benefits upon them. The Emperor Ferdinand, even while writing to Wallenstein in the most friendly manner, had already nominated Gallas his superior in command, and pronounced both him and four of his friends to be outlaws. Thus, while Wallenstein believed himself to be almost at the summit of his ambition, his fate was rapidly overtaking him. When, by the defection of many of his troops, and the desertion of those upon whom he pinned his greatest faith, his eyes were at last opened to the precariousness of his position, he tried to save himself by going over to the enemy. Messengers were dispatched in all directions, and speedily brought word that both the Swedes and the Saxons would help him. Then he withdrew to Eger, which was occupied by troops of his own, commanded by Colonel Butler, a Scotchman, who owed everything to Wallenstein. Every officer who surrounded the latter, had received both rank and wealth from the great general, Leslie, an Irishman, and Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon, a Scotchman, particularly; and yet these were the very men who, with Butler, plotted their benefactor's assassination. The few faithful friends left to Wallenstein were murdered, and to Captain Devereux, an Irishman, was entrusted the assassination of the great duke himself. With six dragoons, Devereux penetrated to Wallenstein's apartment, and there they all fell upon him with mocking words and murderous hand. Their victim declined to defend himself from the wretches, but met his death bravely, standing, with arms outstretched, and eyes gazing proudly at his assassins.

Thus fell, on the 24th of February, 1634, the great Duke of Friedland, at the instigation of the Emperor for whom he had done so much. Ferdinand rewarded the six common dragoons with 500 Thalers each, while all the officers who had contributed to Wallenstein's destruction were elevated to the greatest honours. Ferdinand's name has never been surrounded with a halo of lustre, but his behaviour with respect to Wallenstein forms one of the blackest

BY JOHN D. MILBURN. PART II.

WAS astir at eight o'clock, and surprised

Dr. C., who had not expected me till the afternoon. Let me introduce this reverend gentleman :-Behold then! a fresh-coloured old man, beardless and clean shaven, with prominent nose and capacious ears; hale, hearty, and elastic, though some seventy years old; his manner cordial and attractive; his spirits jovial and infectious, and possessing that rare enviable tact which makes those he meets pleased and satisfied with themselves; loving his fellowmen, and receiving their love in return; in short, a more agreeable comHis speech panion could not well be found. proclaims him to be an American, and upon looking at the flyleaf of a New Testament which he subsequently gave me, I find he hails from Newark, New Jersey. I had met the Doctor first at Cairo, found him again at Beyrout, and arranged another rendezvous at Damascus.

We saw no other visitors that morning, so breakfasted tête-a-tête, and recounted our different experiences of the road. We then took a survey of our new quarters. Our breakfast room faced a large courtyard, beautifully paved. In the centre stood orange and citron trees, shading a large marble basin or miniature lake, in which gold-fish gambolled. From the centre of this basin rose a fountain, shooting forth a shower of cooling spray; white doves flitted about from tree to tree, and the sunalready powerful-lighted up this pretty picture. Beautiful plants and shrubs adorned each corner, and were dispersed about our domain. Round its sides were ranged the various rooms of the establishment. One of these was open towards the court. It was beautifully decorated, with arabesqued walls and ceiling, quaint ornaments, large Persian trays, etc. Round the three walls was a raised platform, richly cushioned, for the accommodation of guests. This was the reception room.

All the wealthier houses of Damascus contain these open rooms or alcoves, many of which are richly and tastefully decorated and sumptuously furnished.

We felt that now we were indeed in the East, and away from the high pressure of civilized Europe. No one looking at the exterior of our hotel could have imagined that it contained such a Paradise within. So is it with most of the dwellings of the Damascenes. Architecture they have in abundanee in the dead cities round about them, in the ancient mosques and walls and towers in their midst, and even underneath their feet, if they choose to excavate the buried remnants of many a Roman portico and palace. Modern Damascus has no ambition to rival such ancient architectural grandeur and embellishes the interior rather than the exterior of its houses.

Presently Mr. Crawford, the American missionary called upon us, and invited us to see the curiosities and sights of Damascus. We set out, preceded by the dragoman of our hotel, and entered the curious narrow streets, several of which were roofed in. The variegated costumes of the people presented a strange chromatic effect :-Here was the fanatical old Moslem, with his green turban, a veritable Shereef, descended from the Prophet, and who seven times had visited the holy tomb of his ancestor; next came the less reverenced though all important Hadji, who likewise had looked upon the holy Caaba at Mecca, and partaken of the waters of Zemzem; the sprightly young Turk in fez (tarboosh) and trimmed moustache, flowing trousers, and gay cutaway jacket; the thrifty Jew, in long coarse gaberdine; the Greek priest, with his roving eye and brimless hat; the tawny hairy-breasted Kurd, resting his camel on the way to the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem;* the fierce mountain Druse, with staff and ragged petticoat, whose Deity was so long a dark mystery; the Nubian, with ebony skin and snow-white garment; the howling dervish, with his chaunts and lacerated skin; the miserable beggar, in rags and sores, dragging after him his shrivelled and emaciated limbs; the soldier, in his red tarboosh and coat; the Janissary, in his gold embroidered jacket and handsome hanging sleeves; the sais, or forerunner, on his panting errand, clearing a road for his master's horse, and reminding one forcibly of the Evangelist :-"Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee." Moslem women, closely veiled, but letting escape rather unpoetic feet from their flowing trousers, or astride of mules, and enveloped in white sheets. So huddled up were these ladies in a chaos of

Although the majority of the Kurds are Moslems, some of them profess Christianity.

veils and clothes, that we began to believe in a resurrection of mummies. They could be compared to no living thing we had ever seen.

Camels, mules, and asses passed us in large numbers; the former, with their peculiar stride, often heavily laden, grimacing and shooting out their long tongues, high over the heads of the passers by. Many of the mules were pure white; to which colour the ladies seemed partial. The asses were the usual active little animals of the East, and went cantering past with many a portly citizen perched upon their rearmost quarters. We passed windowless shops, rich in gaudy prints of native and British manufacture, for the Damascenes are fond of gay colours. All round us we saw exposed for sale the everlasting red shoe, with tapering upturned toe, so extensively worn by the Moslem community.

We entered "the street called Straight," of Scriptural fame. Now-a-days it belies its name, for though of considerable length (about a mile), it is anything but straight. The word "straight" I take to be a bad translation of St. Luke's real meaning. In German Bibles the word is rendered "Die Richtige," meaning "right, just, or correct," and the Romans called it "Via Recta! From this, however, it does not follow that this street was less straight than other streets. It was doubtless the chief thoroughfare of Damascus in the time of St. Paul. Porter tells us that in the time of the Romans it could not have been less than 100 feet in breadth. Colonnades and pillars are found near its borders, and many others are built over or buried. The Grand Mosque embraces some of the finest pillars, thus asserting itself upon the ground celebrated in Scripture.

Here, in ancient days, was located the house where Ananias restored Saul's sight. On reaching the eastern extremity of the street we saw a gateway (Bab Shurki), with venerable double colonnades and crumbling pilasters, which doubtless stood in that same spot when Saul came awe-stricken to Damascus. Native superstition points this out as Saul's entrance gate, but theologians contend, with good reason, that when Saul came from Damascus " breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord," he would have made his entrance by either the western or the southern gates, instead of going right round the city. This mouldering eastern gateway is a fine relic of antiquity; near it is a tower or castle of various orders of architecture, that of the Roman and the Saracen being predominant.

In the city walls is shown a place from which they tell you that Saul was let down in a basket by the disciples of Damascus, to escape the infuriated Jewish populace. Unfortunately