was attached to his neck by the executioner; but he smiled at their inventive malice, declared that he wore it with more pride than he had done the garter, and when his devotions were finished, demanding if any more indignities were to be practised, submitted calmly to an unmerited fate.[59] Thus perished, at the age of thirty-eight, the gallant Marquis of Montrose, with the reputation of one of the first commanders that the civil wars had produced. He excelled in the stratagems of war; but his talents were rather those of an active, enterprising partisan, than of a great commander,—better fitted to excite and manage a desultory war, than to direct the complicated operations of a regular campaign. He may be admired for his genius, but he cannot be praised for his wisdom. Though he excelled in the performance of rapid movements, and had the quick eye of a serpent approaching its prey, he had not the firmness, perseverance, and vigilance which form the necessary qualifications of a great general. Most of his victories were gained by the celerity of his approaches and the impetuosity of his attacks, yet he did not prove himself any better qualified to avert the fatal consequences of surprise than those whom his manœuvres had so often defeated. His genius was great and romantic, in the opinion of Cardinal de Retz, no mean judge of human nature, approaching the nearest to the ancient heroes of Greece and Rome. But his heroism was wild and extravagant, and was less conspicuous during his life than from the fortitude with which he sustained an ignominious death.