but they had not effected a revolution in Portugal. Don Antonio had been
offered nothing by his faithful subjects but a dish of plums--so that he
retired into obscurity from that time forward--and all this was scarcely
a magnificent result for the death of six or seven thousand good English
and Dutch soldiers, and the outlay of considerable treasure.

As a free-booting foray--and it was nothing else--it could hardly be
thought successful; although it was a splendid triumph compared with the
result of the long and loudly heralded Invincible Armada.

In France, great events during the remainder of 1588 and the following
year, and which are well known even to the most superficial student of
history, had much changed the aspect of European affairs. It was
fortunate for the two commonwealths of Holland and England, engaged in
the great struggle for civil and religious liberty, and national
independence, that the attention of Philip became more and more
absorbed-as time wore on--with the affairs of France. It seemed necessary
for him firmly to establish his dominion in that country before
attempting once more the conquest of England, or the recovery of the
Netherlands. For France had been brought more nearly to anarchy and utter
decomposition than ever. Henry III., after his fatal forgiveness of the
deadly offence of Guise, felt day by day more keenly that he had
transferred his sceptre--such as it was--to that dangerous intriguer.
Bitterly did the King regret having refused the prompt offer of Alphonse
Corse on the day of the barricades; for now, so long as the new
generalissimo should live, the luckless Henry felt himself a superfluity
in his own realm. The halcyon days were for ever past, when, protected by
the swords of Joyeuse and of Epernon, the monarch of France could pass
his life playing at cup and ball, or snipping images out of pasteboard,
or teaching his parrots-to talk, or his lap-dogs to dance. His royal
occupations were gone, and murder now became a necessary preliminary to
any future tranquillity or enjoyment. Discrowned as he felt himself
already, he knew that life or liberty was only held by him now at the
will of Guise. The assassination of the Duke in December was the
necessary result of the barricades in May; and accordingly that
assassination was arranged with an artistic precision of which the world
had hardly suspected the Valois to be capable, and which Philip himself
might have envied.

The story