At a later period, Voltaire, in the “Philosophical Dictionary,” corrected some trifling errors which he had made in his account of the masked prisoner. He states that the captive was first confined at Pignerol, whence he was removed to the isle of St. Margaret, and that, a few days before his death, he said that he believed himself to be about sixty. Voltaire then controverts various guesses which had been hazarded as to the name of the individual, and then adds, that the concealment of his face must have been occasioned by “the fear that a too striking resemblance might be recognised in his features.” In conclusion, he hints, that he is well informed on the subject, but that he will not communicate his knowledge. It would seem, however, that, after the lapse of a few years, he changed his mind,—for, in another edition of the Dictionary, there was inserted an article, ostensibly by the editor, but which is generally supposed to be written by Voltaire himself. It is there roundly asserted that the masked captive was an elder brother of Louis XIV., illegitimate, and brought up in secrecy, whom for obvious reasons of state the reigning monarch was obliged to hold in durance. In the original account by Voltaire, his pointed mention of the prisoner’s fondness for fine linen and lace, which was also characteristic of Anne of Austria, appears to indicate that he believed her to be the mother of the mysterious individual. There is in the human mind a restless longing, and perpetual struggle, to penetrate into every thing that is shrouded in mystery. Ever since the man with the iron mask was first mentioned, he has been a subject of inquiry and controversy; dissertations and volumes innumerable have been written to dispel the Egyptian darkness which surrounds him. With the exception perhaps of Junius, there is probably no personage who has been the cause of so many books and theories; and in both cases no approach to certainty has been made. It is not improbable that Junius may yet be unveiled; but, with respect to the masked captive, so long a time has gone by, so much care was taken after his decease to destroy all traces of his existence, and it is so likely that the remaining documents, if any there were, perished during the French revolution, that there is not a chance of the world being enabled to say, “_This_ is certainly the man.”