As it has been well said, 'the simple record of his campaigns and wounds, in the service of Queen and country, would alone be sufficient to confer greatness on any man. His was the truest greatness, because he was so utterly unconscious that it was great; and his extreme modesty, and almost diffidence, obscured it from the merely superficial observer.' His was the kind of life that exerted a magnetic charm upon all with whom he had dealings. His plain exterior, {201} his somewhat awkward gait and habiliments, more frequently marked by the absence of fashionable conventionality than by military smartness, were a deception to a stranger. 'That the great Captain Wauchope!' said a man on the road one day, when he was pointed out to him as the hero of Tel-el-Kebir--'_That_ Captain Wauchope, impossible! I thought that was a labourer!' Though carrying no outward symbol of what was in him, to his friends he was dear. But we do not always gather diamonds on the surface. ''Tis the mind that makes the body rich.' He seemed best to those who knew him longest, for about his actions there was a sincerity that was all the better because it was spontaneous; and behind that bronzed, ascetic face--said by some to resemble that of Cicero or Cæsar--there was a soul with the courage of a hero and the tenderness of a woman. In a letter from Dr. Wisely of Malta, we have striking testimony in confirmation of this. 'Wauchope,' he says, 'in a remarkable manner fulfilled the New Testament injunction to "honour all men," and this, I believe, was the secret of his being honoured by all, for he was liked and trusted by all sorts and conditions of men. His brother officers found in him a friend, and so did the men in the ranks. If any man had a grievance he was sure of getting a fair hearing from him. But Wauchope was not easily taken in. I remember seeing him once standing in the street when I was speaking to a man of his regiment, who had seen better days. After the man had left me, he came up and said, "I was just waiting to warn you, lest you should be taken in by that man. He will tell you plausible stories to get money out of you, but don't listen to him. He is a humbug, and is not to be trusted." I found he was right. But when there was {202} real distress, Wauchope was ever ready to do what he could to relieve it, and he did it in the most unostentatious way. In 1878, when he went with his regiment to Cyprus, a man in his company, whom I knew, died of heat apoplexy on landing. Wauchope immediately wrote to me and enclosed a cheque for £10, to be given to the man's widow to help her, as he said, to make a fresh start. I happened to mention this incident recently to a lady, whose husband at one time commanded the regiment, and she said "it was just like Wauchope," and that she knew of many similar cases where his help was as quietly given. On one occasion, when the regiment was in Egypt, he presented a cheque for