but, with his usual modesty, he shrank from being lionised. As soon as he could free himself from social as well as official demands for his opinion on the reorganisation of the Indian army was much sought after he went off to Vichy, where, in the society of his old Crimean friend, General Vinoy, he took the rest which he so much needed. Age, toil, anxiety, and hardships were at length beginning to tell on him, and his health had evidently begun to fail. On his return to England in the winter he established his surviving sister, Miss Alicia Campbell, in a home of her own in London, he himself taking chambers in the Albany. His father, we may mention, had died in 1859. In April, 1861, he again went to the Continent, spending a few weeks in Paris with General Vinoy, visiting the battle-fields of the Austro-French war, and returning via Germany. He was soon off again, being commissioned to represent the British army at the Prussian manœuvres. On November 1, 1861, he was invested at Windsor with the Grand Cross of the Star of India, and on November 9, 1861, he was created Field Marshal. He had exhausted all honours, and though his promotion had at one time been somewhat slow, to climb from colonel to field-marshal in little less than seven years and a half was, in a certain sense, compensation. He might indeed be now considered fortunate. was able to enjoy the well-earned repose for which he had long pined. He had obtained high social, the highest military rank. He enjoyed an income which to him was affluence. His old friends and many new acquaintances vied with each other for the honour and pleasure of seeing the fine, genial, pleasant old soldier at their London dinner tables or country houses. From time to time he varied his pleasures by visits to France, where General Vinoy and other friends were ever ready to welcome him.

He

There were, however, two drawbacks to his happiness. His health began to fail soon after his return from India, and he had several warnings that his race was nearly run. Another circumstance there was, too, which gave him pain. From causes which it is needless here to discuss, a coolness had sprung up between him and some of his old staff. Indeed, he either was, or imagined that he was, neglected by certain of those to whom he had been so kind a chief, and who owed so much to him. He complained that he had no one to write a letter for him. That his affectionate heart was wounded by this estrangement from those who had been among his most dear and trusted friends we can well believe. Other friends as old as those between whom and him a wall of estrangement

had arisen, however, were ready to make his declining days pleasant to him, and though ill-health had rendered him a little excitable, and perhaps somewhat exacting, he became by no means misanthropical. He still delighted in the society of those whom he knew well, was still always thinking how he could do a kindness to or advance the interests of others. As long as he was in debt or poor, he had longed for money because money meant independence, a provision for his sister, and power to take rest. He was, however, the reverse of greedy, and his personal tastes were as simple when a rich field-marshal as when a poor colonel. He thus had a large balance with which to indulge his generosity. On January 18, 1862, he writes in his journal: I have given so many presents in money during the course of the year, that I find I must discontinue the indulgence of this pleasure for some time to come.' Then follows a detailed statement which shows that during 1861 he had, besides a handsome allowance to his sister, given away no less than 6,7921. His generosity was of no late growth. When Commander-in-Chief in India he was wont, if any great friend or member of his personal staff had pay or allowances unjustly cut down, to exert himself to the utmost to see them righted, and, if he failed, would pay the money himself. On more than one occasion the sum

6

amounted to over 1007.

In May, 1863, he was taken so ill at the house in Berkeley Square, which he had taken, and to which he had moved only a few weeks previously, that his medical attendant advised him to set his affairs in order. In the first week in June he suddenly appeared at the house of his old friend and brother officer in the 98th, General Eyre, at Chatham, where he was in the habit of paying constant visits. After a fortnight's stay, during which he made no progress, he returned to London for a few days. On June 23 he reappeared at Chatham. He never quitted the house again. The details of his last illness are told in a simple, touching manner, in harmony with Lord Clyde's own simple nature. He realised his danger from the first, and with pious fortitude prepared himself for the end. He passed much time in prayer and in hearing the Bible and sacred poetry read to him. It was possibly in reference to the estrangement above mentioned that he earnestly impressed upon General Eyre his forgiveness of all unkindness. Mind

this, Eyre, I die at peace with all the world.' In the intervals of his sufferings he loved to talk about old Peninsular days. His memory, too, would frequently dwell on his faithful Highlanders, and find expression in terms of grati

tude for the trust they had reposed in the chief who loved them so well. Occasionally he became subject to delusions and very excitable. We learn that at times, on hearing the sound of the bugle in the adjoining square, he would spring from his chair, exclaiming, I'm ready.' On July 24 he seemed to have but a few hours to live; but though he longed for death he said to General Eyre, I should like to live till 'to-morrow, because it is the anniversary of St. Sebastian, which is, perhaps, a fitting day for the old soldier to die.' It was deemed advisable that he should not be excited by interviews with any but General Eyre's family circle. His sister, therefore, though she spent some time in the house without his being aware of the fact, did not see him till August 1, when he expressed an earnest desire for her presence. From that day she never left him, till, on August 14, he passed away to his rest. In spite of his desire for an unostentatious funeral, it was considered due, alike to him, to the army, and to the nation, to lay his bones in Westminster Abbey.

Thus passed away from the midst of us the mortal remains, but not the inspiring memory, of Colin Campbell, Baron Clyde and Field Marshal, who seventy-one years previously had entered the world as the son of a poor Glasgow carpenter. This brilliant transformation was little due to accidents of fortune, nor indeed at all to genius. He was not a great manhe was not a brilliant man-but he was brave, capable, patient, persevering, unselfish, and possessed of a single-minded devotion to duty. Hence his success. Hence the fame with which, when his countrymen learned to know him, they enwreathed his brows. Hence the devotion of his troops. Hence the love of his numerous friends. Hence the deep respect of the general public. If his name will not be recorded in history as that of a great man, it will certainly be remembered by posterity as that of a grand character; and, unlike many popular heroes, the more that is known of him the brighter does his reputation. shine. The admirable biography which we owe to the pious industry of his old aide-de-camp has done much to assign the subject of it his proper niche in the temple of fame, and we feel an especial pleasure in paying our humble tribute of respect and regard to one who combined in the highest degree the bravery and warmth of heart of a true Highlander.

ART. VIII.---Heinrich IV. und Philip III. Die Begründung des französischen Uebergewichtes in Europa, 1598-1610. Von Dr. M. PHILIPPSEN. Drei Bände. Berlin: 18701876.

N the course of the great rivalry which was carried on between France and Spain for nearly two centuries, no greater contrast is offered than that presented by the reigns of Henri IV. and Philip III.; and Dr. Philippsen has, with very considerable success, devoted remarkable faculties of research and a keen historic insight to the difficult task of bringing out in high relief and with great detail the opposite principles which prevailed in the two countries with respect to foreign policy, State organisation, and internal adminis tration, and to setting forth the various consequences of their antagonistic action. The period comprised in these volumes of Dr. Philippsen occupies the last twelve years of the reign of Henri IV., and extends from the Peace of Vervins, concluded on May 2, 1598, to the assassination of the great king by the knife of Ravaillac in the year 1610. These twelve years form a most eventful period in the history of the two nations. While the unprincipled and senseless government of Lerma marks the point of declination of the Spanish Government in its rapid descent to ruin and decay, it was during the reign of Henri IV. that the foundation of French preponderance was laid in Europe. These twelve years denoted in fact a displacement of power destined to affect the whole world and all civilisation.

The two countries, indeed, represented directly opposite principles. Spain was the representative of the strict Catholic principle and of the suppression of all contrary ways of thought; while France, which in its home government was not much more tolerant, yet, from enmity to Spain, allied herself especially with the Protestant powers, of whose interests she undertook to be the champion, in Germany and the Netherlands. The final victory of France in fact gave to the Reformation a sure and solid foundation. Yet at the signature of the Peace of Vervins on May 2, 1598, a superficial observer might have deemed it absurd to place the power of France on a level with that of Spain. The power of Spain at that time extended widely over both hemispheres, and the Spaniards were justly proud of an empire upon which, as they boasted, the sun never set, and which reduced to insignificance the orbis terrarum of the Roman world. The Pacific

Ocean, the Indian and Atlantic Oceans were in theory but inland seas of the Spanish Empire. In all the most important seaports in Flanders, Spain, Southern Italy, Southern Asia, and in Africa and America, the Spanish flag waved supreme. In Italy Spain possessed the half of the Peninsula, and seemed likely to embrace the whole in its oppressive grasp. The feeling of the nation was that Spain was destined to be the mistress of the whole earth, and it was long ere they were cured of this delusion. The population of the Spanish territories was, however, far from equalling their extent. Spain itself, according to the census of 1594, contained 8,206,791 inhabitants, and in all Spanish Europe there were about eighteen millions of people. When one considers that at that time England, Ireland, and Scotland did not contain four million inhabitants, and how scarce was the general population of Europe, it is apparent how relatively preponderant was the power of Spain as regards population.

But this immense empire, which presented so colossal and formidable an appearance from without, was honeycombed with ruin and decay within. Its government was a despotism of the most implacable and exclusive character. All representative government had become a mere shadow in Spain since the suppression of the Communeros in the days of Charles V. And although Philip II. professed to be the great upholder of the Church, it was on condition that the Spanish ecclesiastics should hold their allegiance to him as superior to their allegiance to the Pope. Not a papal bull was allowed to have authority in Spain without the royal placet, and all the ecclesiastical vacancies were filled up by himself. The Inquisition itself derived all its authority from the crown. The same despotic spirit prevailed in the army and navy and in every department of the State. Under this upas-tree of despotism which overshadowed the whole land, the forces of Spain and the sources of prosperity rapidly withered and became exhausted. The many causes of the ruin of Spain have been detailed again and again; and at every fresh enumeration a fresh wonder is excited at the multiplicity of forms of political and financial absurdity and of national folly which made up the sum of the despotic and conservative creed in Spain, and which were dragging it down every year more irretrievably into ruin. Not the least of the causes of such ruin was the enormous amount of property held in mortmain by ecclesiastics; it is computed that about one-fifth of the soil of Spain was held by the Church. The yearly incomes of the eleven archbishops of Spain ranged from 300,000 scudi (equal in present money to

VOL. CLIV. NO. CCCXV.

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