A New Light On Lord Macaulay

7/27/2019 A New Light On Lord Macaulay

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Bound with othar matarial/Rali* avae d'awtrat ooareely an ocourrenoe in his lifo >>*ness. He was bom, in October 1800 F- rents of good soda! standing Zo?xceUent education. His to^eT^ned some renown as an author Heacquired more, however an . l.i fvooato of !. i. ,.; . ' * " zealous ad-i^l . *^ ""^ht'on of slavery, andhat at a time when anti-slavery se^".ents, even in England, wer7nor^Je


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"ACATOAY'S CAKBEXpopular as they afterwards became. Theson s edaoation began while he was veryyonng and he almost instantly gave vrlTrdeV^^rTV' " ""osfunusn^Iorder. While yet a child he displayed apassionate devotion to books, and devoured nearly everything that came tolus attention. This love of reading heinterest year by year during the whole

essays of his youth, show distinotlv that>p had attained a knowledge far beyond^ years, and a genius which foSXh i^'v""" ^*"^- The impression

visible both m his conversation and hisof age, Macaulay, however, consideratefeCerr ^^''f" eTniwas nearly five. As a youth he wassent to several private schools. finisWngwmch he went to Cambridge UniversityHis college course, while not so brilliant

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A N8W LIORT OK LORD MACAUtAYas those of Gladstone and Lord Acton,was marked by great industry, particu-larly in reading, which was not merelyextensive in range, but prodigious inamount. Nothing was too severe, nothingtoo exhausting to satisfy his intellectuallongings. The Greek and the Latin,which others loathed as an impositionand a task, he welcomed as a diversionand a recreation. What others read withdisagreeable compulsion in order to passexaminations, and then forgot forever,he read for Enjoyable information, andto remember forever. He left Cambridgeat the age of twent>-two, with his excep-tionally retentive memory amply storedwith a vast and readily accessible wealthof widely diversified information. Hethen studied for the bar, and became alawyer, but after making the same super-

ficial attempt at practising his professionthat Morley made in later years, he, likeMorley, abandoned law for literature,and subsequently literature for politics,reverting ultimately to literature as botha pastime and a profession. His first

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MACAULAY'S CARBBRserious appearance in print was at theage of twenty-five, when he stirred Eng-land to its very depths by the publicationof his famous essay on Milton. Theimmediate and overwhelming success ofthat brilliant compositiona successwhich far exceeded his most sanguineexpectations,opened the door instantlyfor greater triumphs,triumphs of asocial and a political, as well as of a liter-ary character. The opulent of England,ever ready to smile whenever the beam-ing Goddess was bestowing the Crown,threw their oflferings at his feet, and oneof the gifts of the great was an easilywon seat in the British House of Com-mons.In 1830, Macaulay was elected to Par-liament for Calne, one of those wretchedand almost deserted constituencies, whichthe Beform Act a few years afterwards

righteously abolished. His first speechm Parliament was on the question ofJewish Disabilities, and received a wel-come that was ahnost a herald of futurefame. In a short time a new Parliament9


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A WIW WOHT ON wiD UAQAVtAYwas Bummoned. Maoaulay again waselected for the same scat, with, this time,but the appearance of a contest. Theagitation for Parliamentary Reform hadreached its height by then, and Maoaulaythrew his giant efforts into the scale withthe reformers. The proposed law forthe reconstruction of the ridings of Eng-land and known emphatically as "TheBeform Bill,'' was introduced by LordJohn Bussell into Parliament on March1, 1831. On the following night Macaulaydelivered the urst of his many reformspeeches. It was a brilliant effort andone which promoted him at once to thevery first rank of debaters and parlia-ment ry orators. Social fame rapidlyfollowed parliamentary success, and fora time Macaulay divided with the firstmen m the land the attention of highsociety in London. For mouths, it issaid, he never dined at home, so numer-

ous were the doors which were flung in-vitingly open to him because of histriumphant oratorical achievements.Kctorm, however, was slow in triumph-lO


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MACAOIAV* CAkn*ing, Bud it waa not nntU aftar manTVechea had ben deUverad, inolw^inghalf a doaen by Macanlay, that the meaa-^^^ P"* "' ** ^^


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A NBW LIGHT ON I.ORD MACAULAYBoard for India was established, and totHe highly remunerative position as amember of that board he was appointed.His correspondence in connection withthe appointment indicates that it wasrather because he wished to free himselffrom prospective pecuniary embarrass-ments, than because of his love of thetask, that he became willing to temporar-ily forsake England for the shores of theIndian Ocean. Financial relief, howevercame more speedily than he had antici-pated for out of a princely income hewas able to save a fortune within a veryshort time. In addition, a large and un-expected legacy which he received, placedhim far beyond the reach of penury. By138 he was again in England. Two orthree reviews, similar to those he hadalready pubUshed, together with thefamous draft of a code of civil laws forIndia, which was a product of his pen,

and which bears the impress of the samerhetorical skill that graces his essays, areall the literary fruits of his four years ofresidence in that distant realm, where12


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MACAOIAY'S CAXBSRmen Of lesser genius than he had repeat-edly achieved immortalityi^n^ "*' * ^'d he resumedthose literary and parliamentary aotiv.t.es which had been interruptedby hisBoard m',* ?" ^"'^''^ ^vemLenfW ^ f'.""^ ""^ tJ^ hintedthat he had probably done with it fo^Ts'- tn^"* *''>''"Wng Enchantress

u !r,*"""- Scarcely had hereached England than he was offeredthe representation in Parliament ofthe City of Edinburgh. He gladly ac-cepted, and soon after was elWoneof ae members for that city. I Sep!tember 1839, he entered Lord ulbonme's Cabinet as Secretary at Warabnif^K ?\? ^ " ''^ seriousabihty beyond that required in snperin-tendmg the routine details of the offi^His powers as a debater, however, werefrequently called into service to ^d theneedy fortunes of the dying MeCumeadministration. In 1841 Se GoveS

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A NEW WGHT ON I.ORD MACAUI^Yfell and Peel, who a few years previous-ly Had spent some anxious months inoffice, became Premier again, this timewith a powerful following. This follow-mg the brilliant Minister abundantlyneeded to confront the serious situationswhich at once commenced to embarrasshim, as well as the able )rators h in-cessantly opposed! him. Those were thedays when Disraeli, on keen and unerringwmg, was soaring majestically intofame, and wh^ Gladstone, with his ora-torical enchantments, and his lofty thun-ders, was beginning to shake EnglandMacaulay, voicing a merciless, as well asan unceasing, opposition to the greatPremier, was often heard in the courseof the many and splendid debates whichsignalized the course of the second Peeladministration. Not only was the voicelifted, but the pen was also busy. Essaysand verses flowed copiously in a crystal

stream from the gifted writer's tirelesspenIn 1841 he began his History of Eng-

^'^olumes wereand. By 1847 the first two14


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MACACIAY'S CAKBBRcompleted and fa the following Tearwere published. They, too. asTf ear"est literary and parliamentary effortshad done, lifted their author sWlSrn the estimation of the intellectual wfridand found a secure and permanent Xethe Uterary annals of England. Totsof ti.uusands of copies, flootogL ^rets, were none too many to me^tTlfjpopular demand. Seventy yearfhi

reduction m the demand for this marvellous product of his pen. The nt^i"

In 1857, Macaulay became a Peer- h*to attendance fa the House of l^fds wLut indifferent, nor does it appearC?he nlf"b' ""^ '"'Portant'^^h fa*h.!i*YTA. ^'"''^ "^ ParUament. ffishealth at the same time began to f^il Jt.s altogether probable that tte four JeaJsof Sdfr." "'^ ""favorable cliSf India had something to do with tte'5


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A NEW tlGHT ON I.ORD 1IACAUI.AYundermining of a constitution never veryrobust. In January, 1856, the illustriousorator bade farewell to the electors ofEdinburgh, and retired from public life.At the ve^ close of 1859, after a shortIllness, which consisted of a gradualweakening, rather than in a sudden col-lapse, he passed quietly and peacefullyaway. One of his latest acts was, withcommendable charity, to assist an ob-scure but needy stranger. On a sunlessafternoon m January, 1860, the body ofthe famous man who had done so muchfor letters, for oratory and for historywas interred in the Poet's Corner ofWestminster Abbey. Few of the longarray of his many companions sleepingin the dust by his side give that mightyedifice a greater glory than he who be-came one of its silent tenants on thatdreary winter's day.

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Chaptbb m.The Maoaulay Pboblbms.

"PWO great and important circum-stances impress the careful studentof Macaulay's life and writings. Thefirst ox these is the attitude which hisbiographers and critics have adopted tohis historical and literary opinions. Thesecond relates to the attempts whichhave been made to ascertain, if possible,the on^n of his unique and masterly lit-erary style, and to form an estimate ofthe true position which it eventually mustoccupy m literature.have been thus suggested, it is compara-tively easy to enter upon a discussion of17


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A NEW WGHT ON W)RD MACAUlJlYthe ^ews his biographers and criticshave held in reference to those politicaland historical conclusions which heformed, and which have not been accept-ed as final by history. Macanlay himselfwas always considering most carefullythe possibility of the endurance of hisown judgments upon events and charac-ters. One of the most famous of his owncriticisms is that which he passed someyeart after the publication of his essayon Milton had, lifted him into undyingfame. He then said that it containedscarcely an opinion which his maturerjudgment endorsed. Yet, for obviousreasons, that essay was one of the verylast that he would have willingly dis-owned. When he was writing his historyhe said that his thoughts were not fixedupon merely transient fame; he was con-templating the possibility of his writingssurviving for many generations after he

should have passed away. Nearly all ofhis critics have devoted much of their en-ergy to denouncing the judgments whichhe passed upon the many men and many


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THB MACAOTAY PROBI.BMS7^'^" f*"**** '' Wstory'B Observa-tion. Monson, who was selected bv thewfS m"** 7"'"*"* ^'^ Morley towrite Macanlay's life in the EndishMen of Letters Series, calls the essay onBacon "deplorable." He also tells sflh ''"i f '"""^'^ Spedding, the fruitof whose hterary labours unfortunatelyhas not come down to iUuminate our gen-m an effort to answer the historical andph. osophical mistakes which he foundbthat famous essay. Spedding is dead^ r-"'-'"! wort is for^tten itoccupies no place in critical litfratur^ oron library shelves; but the essay ontens^^r " 'f^ """J circulating bytens of thousands of copies ammsUv allover the English speaking worir ^Many of Macanlay's other essavo subjected to similar treatment. Able anddistmgnished writers, although not "oBooks in their attempts to controvert'9


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A NIW LIGHT ON tOED MACAULAYvarious views to be found scattered allthrough Macaulay's writings. His at-tack upon Chief Justice Impey, and uponAjgyle; his defence of William theThird ; his arraignment of William Pennand numerous other parts of his writings'have all produced in reply many volumes,as weU as essays, that have been printedin multitudes of periodicals. So uni-fonnly has this policy been adopted, thatmost of the Macaulay literature of thepast sixty years has consisted of eitheradulations or denunciations of hisopinions. In both cases the eulogies andthe depreciations have been accompaniedby illustrative quotations from his ownwntings, as well as from other acknowl-edged authorities.The truth is that altogether too muchhas been made of the correctness or in-correctness of Macaulay's judgments.He does not come before the world ap-pealing in this respect for a confidencesimilar to that which we are accustomedto place in the compilers of our arith-metics and our cook books or the manu-

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THB MACAULAV PROBUlMSfacturers of our barometers and our?^li^}!?}'^' ^^ ^8 '^o such thing asmfalhbUity on any side of the manydebatable questions which are constantlybeing considered by men like Mac-aulay. The fundamental questions, ofcourse, are always proverbially beyonddispute. But those questions, whichvaiy with custom, habit, feeling andstyle; the many problems which historyand literature must pass upon in consid-ering their countless events and charac-ters ; the problems on which definite con-clusions cannot be reached except in anarbitrary manner, will always encounterat the hands of intelligent men untolddiversities of opinion. Most of the liter-ary and historical problems which con-fronted Macaulay were those which in-volved capricious conclusions. The factthat Macaulay had more learning thanthousands of others who have examinedthose problems is no more reason for ex-pecting a sounder judgment upon themfrom him than from his less equippedcontemporaries. Many people have heard31


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A NW LIGHT ON I.OD MACAULAYargrmnents between unlettered peopleproceed with as much conviction andvehemence, and leading to as just con-elusions, as if they were supported byMacaulay '8 marvellous stores of infor-mation. In the law Courts it is quite acommon occurrence to witness Counselof comparatively equal mental incompet-ence presenting the opposing sides of alawsuit, wih superficiality, and manifestlack of skill ; and it is equally common toobserve the judges arriving at as correctconclusions iipon these imperfect argu-ments, as if the discussions had been sig-nallized by the utmost learning and abil-

itry. It also frequently happens that thecarefully considered judgments of wiseand experienced judges are reversed onappeal, very often upon grounds whollydifferent from those assigned by thetribunals of first instance; while stillHigher fountains of justice continue theprocess of reversal upon still differentgrounds from any that have been pre-viously assigned. There are many juristsof weight and learning who dissent from22


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TH MACAULAV PKOBLBMSthe unanimous decisions of the highesttnbunalsoftheland. And, as in the caseof Separate Schools in Manitoba, veryfrequently parliaments have been in-voked to legislate away the decisions ofultimate tribunals, because in theopinions of men ranking in wisdom notbehind the judges, the objectionable de-cisions have been regarded as not merelyunsatisfactory and unpopular, but as ab-solutely illogical and erroneous.On the arbitrary aspects of literaturethe vast knowledge of a Macaulay cannever be a guarantee of truth. The sameconclusion applies to the judgmentswHich may be passed upon more conven-tional historical characters and events.It 18 true that in regard to them a widerinformation must necessarily lead to acloser approximation to truth. But widerinformation usually means the produc-tion 01 additional facts. These additionalfacts often furnish as much support tothe one as to the other side of the judg-ments which are in the process of forma-tion. If men were so universally goodas


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A NHW UOHT ON lOD MACAUIAYor bad; if events were so consistentlyuniform, that a multiplication of occur-rences but the more firmly supported theone or the other view of the individualsor the occurrences in question, then anincrease of infonnation would necessar-ily lead to the attainment of eternallyimmutable conclusions. But there is verylittle consistency in most men or events caprice, passion, selfishness, and count-less other varying motives colour deeplyall men 's actions ; he who on one occasionawakens all oHir sympathies by the mod-eration and the humanity of his conductat another crisis shocks us by his unrea-

sonable violence and severity. As a re-sult of the searching investigations towhich Macaulay submitted the lives ofthe many eminent actors whom hebrought upon the stage of history, innu-merable facts, many of them hithertounknown, some of them contradictory,and all of them often both surprising andembarrassing, were elicited, which onlyintensified the numerous difficulties thatwere already present to perplex the his-24


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TBI MACAtJ..AY PKOBUCMStorian and hinder him from reaching apermanently unassailable conclusion.Macaulay's critics have confused ex-tensive knowledge with accurate judg-ment. In an age when no man will submithis judgment to that of another; whenthe milkman, the coal-heaver, the drain-digger and the scavenger to-day essay topass instantaneous judgment upon thePrime Minister's long meditated utter-ances of last night, there must of neces-sity exist and remain eternal differencesof opinion. And these differences aresuch as no breadth of knowledge will evereffectually remove. Extensive and ex-haustive reading and study, for which,of course, a man of Macaulay's endow-ments was characteristically fitted, willundoubtedly furnish the historian withnew truths ; but unless a writer be giftedwith the wisdom of a Solomon, a Solon,a Johnson, 'or a Buckle, the same array

of facts in the mind of a scholarly Mac-aulay enjoys no more certainty of receiv-ing an unerring interpretation than thefacts would receive had they been sub-25


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A NEW UGHT ON I.ORD MACAUI.AYmitted to the judgment of a fairly intelli-gent salesman, mechanic or labourerIt IS true that persistent study tendsto develop the mind, but it is equallyconclusive that breadth of reading doesnot brmg the judging faculty of the mindinto a condition of infallibility, or to adegree of perfection which implies thatIts conclusions are final and unassailable.In the abstract the mind should approachan Ideal state to the extent to which it isfurmshed with additional aids for its de-velopment. But the best informed menhave not been those whose opinions havebeen most uniformly accepted. Thereally unsettled questions of history arethose on which the wisest men, of all theages,--men like Socrates and Platoamong the ancients; men like BurkeJohnson Draper, Lecky, Froude, Buckleand Carlyle, among the modems,havegiven the world the benefit of their learn-mg and their wisdom. And when it isremembered of what a complexity ofmaterials the judgments of the humanmmd are formed; of partially remem-26


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THE MACAULAY PROBLEMSbered facts, of frci, inonts of information,of rumours, -I gossips, of inaccuratereports, all ii reimlarJy pieced togetherwithout any recogiiized rule to governthe combination, and the whole violentlycoloured and indelibly tinted by passion,prejudice, admiration, veneration, mal-ice, jealousy, and a thousand other de-forming mediums; when it is remem-bered that the textures,if such an ex-pression may be allowed,of no twommds are alike, it is not surprising thatthe conclusion is an equally imperfectproduct, whether it be reached by theempty mind of the ignorant, or the wellstored brain of the scholar.It must not be imagined that in exer-cising the faculty of judgment it followsthat there are no absolute standards oftruth, nor that the opinions of sages andscholars are without value. But stand-ards of truth and opinions of the wiseare quite inapplicable when the object tobe judged is arbitrary in the extreme,and when the conclusion is one which hasto be reached through the consideration

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A NEW I,IGHT ON I.ORD MACAUI^Yof numberless facts, of every possiblecharacter, complexity and condition.The real reason why Macaulay's viewshave been criticized with such malevol-ence, is not because h, more than a thou-sand other authors, courts controversy;it is not because he, more than countlessothers, flagrantly transgresses, andvoices opinions which can be repelledonly with violence; it is rather becausemany controversialists -cannot writecritically without importing into theiressays malice and slander. Perhaps un-due provocation has temporarily robbedthem of charity and the other Christianattributes, and has led them to dip theirpens in venom whenever they are attack-ing an opponent in the press. Not evenis science exempt from this apparentlyagreeable method of confuting oppon-ents ; one has only to turn over the pagesof any scientific publication, as for ex-ample, the English Mechanic and Worldof Science, which generously throws openits columns to a world of indiscriminatescribblers, to find its pages invaded by

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THE MACAUI.AY PROBLBMSa host of writers, who seem to forgeteverything except the pettiness of mali-cious calumny in offering their musingsto the world. Perhaps, also, Macaulayoffered some provocation himself, for inmany of his essays he likewise aimedsharply barbed arrows of invective andfury at those whom he felt tempted toassail.The extent of the attacks which havefallen upon Macaulay 's head during thepast half century is principally to beascribed to the immense circulationwhich has been given to his writings.Had he enjoyed a more limited fame,fewer people would have seen his works,and fewer people therefore would havehad the opportunity of rushing into printagainst him.The error, therefore, into which manywriters have unconsciously fallen is inregarding Macaulay as a profoundly

philosophical and a faultlessly accuratehistorian, because of his wide popularity,and in concluding therefore that hiserrors merit equally profound refuta-29


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A NEW WGHT ON I,ORD MACAUI^Ytion. No less renowned a man than Glad-stone was subject to this misconception.Most of Macaulay's contemporariesshared Gladstone's mistake. Even thegreatest genius of them all, Carlyle, didnot differ in this regard from the others.His ossay,like that of the others,upon theoft debated subject, is likewise a brilliantattempt to refute Macaulay's arguments.In truth, although the latter 's views areof inestimable value to the critic and tothe historian, because of the vast storesof information on which they are based,still even a superficial surv


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THB UACAVULY PXOBUtHSfame, and who, instead of enjoying hispopularity to-day, are comparativelyforgotten.Macaulay owes his greatness and hisconstantly increasing popularity neitherto his ahnost unsurpassed learning, norto the valuable estimates which he madeand published of a vast array of charac-ters and circumstances covering an ex-tensive and important range of historyHis great fame must be ascribed principally to the fact that he was the authorof a literary and rhetorical style, whichfor over half a century, has laid Englandunder a potent spell, and has captivatedthe world of letters as no style known toliterature had ev0r done before. HadMacaulay written the substance of hisessays and his history in the style fam-ihar to the nameless thousands, who havepublished and perished during the pastfifty years, his writings would long sincehave been entombed in a hopeless andeternal obUvion. It may also even beconjectured that if any of these unre-membered myriads who wrote mediocre

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A NBW LIGHT ON LORD MACAULAYprose, had expressed their thoughts inthe shining rhetoric, which bums with adeathless splendour through all of Mac-aulay's writings, those authors wouldsurely and sublimely have escaped thecruel tragedy of the endless night, andhave passed gloriously and triumphantlyon, enshrined in fadeless eloquence, tolive in literary history forever. One manreads Macaulay's writings to learn hishistorical convictions, for the many whoread them in the hope of being able tosnatch from their pages even for a tran-sient moment the faintest part of thatpicturesque and stately literary style, ofwhich he was so consummate a master.

It has been the subject of much criti-cism that Macaulay read rather than re-flected; that he was a devourer of booksinstead of a manufacturer of ideas ; thathe reca^ed with his memory instead ofmeditating with his intellect. Most ofhis biographers delight in illustratingthis contention with the often narratedincident that, on a trip by steamer onestormy night across the Irish Channel, to

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TH MACAUtAY PROBI.BMSvisit Londonderry, Enniskillen, Limerickand the Boyne, in order that he mightenrich his writings with new and originaldescriptions of those celebrated spotswhich loom large in the history of humanfreedom, he spent much of the night inreciting to himself from recollection sev-eral books of "Paradise Lost.'* All ofthe critics of this incident have over-looked its one really serious and strikingsignificance. The view of the critics hasuniformly been that this circumstanceconclusively proves Macaulay to havelacked the reflective instinct, and, whileluxuriating in a marvellous memory, tohave been endowed with philosophicsuperficiality. Never was a conclusionmore unfounded. Never was greater in-justice done to a writer. Macaulay wasessentially an author who charmed by hisirresistible style, and who well under-stood the importance of maintaining hisvocabulary at the highest possible stand-ard of verbal excellence. The best methodin the world to cultivate a perfect liter-ary style is to read incessantly the rhe-

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A NBW LIGHT ON WSD MACAUI^Ytorical masterpieces of the world; andhaving read them attentively, to remem-ber them tenaciously, and recall themfrequ ntly. It is idle to attempt oncemore to prove the well established factthat there is no greater repository ofthat language, which is best adapted forthe purposes of the brilliant rhetorician,than Milton s "Paradise Lost.'* Someof the passages to be found in that fam-ous creation rival anything that has everbeen written in our language. The ora-tion of Belial'at the Council of his peers,when he told the infernal legions howthey.Caught in a fiery tempest shall behurled.Each on his rock transfixed, the sportand preyOf wracking whirlwinds, or foreversunkUnder you boiling ocean, wrap*t in

chains.There to converse with everlastinggroans,Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved;

Milton's apostrophe to light, and the34


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The macauiay probi,bmsinterlude of his reflection upon his ownblindness; Abdiel's farewell to thelegions of the night, when he forsook hislifelong dwelling-place; andWith retorted scorn his back heturned,On those proud towers to swiftdestruction doomed;

the descent from Paradise to earth ofthe exploring angel along the gleamingpathway paved with sunbeams ; the War-fare of the Skies, whenUnder fiery cope together rushedBoth battles main with ruinousassault,And inextinguishable rage . . . andMillions of fierce encountering angelsfought;

the dread advent of Satan to Eden, whattimeThe sun was sunk and after him thestarOf Hesperus whose oflSce is to bringTwilight upon the earth, short arbiter*Twixt day and night;

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A NBW UGHT ON IC ID MACAUIAYAdam's piteous lamentation after thefall,

TKn, .1 ^ , ^^^^ ^*^ hopeWhen violence had ceased and war onearth,All would have then gone well, andpeace have crownedWith length of happy days the raceof men

the enumeration of the holy virtues ofwoman; the stately drama movingmajestically on to its melancholy but in-evitable termination, whenIn either hand the hastening AngelcaughtOur lingering parents, and led them downto the subjected plain;

have few rhetorical parallels in Englishspeech. No orator at all anxious for hisreputation would ever dream of achiev-ing renown without being familiar withthese and a hundred other lofty and mag-nificent Miltonian passages,passagesof such soft ana wondrous beauty thatthey seem to contain something far dif-36

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THB MACAULAY PROBZJIMSfepent from mere words and phrases,something that kindles into a radiantglow, and consumes as if with an incan-descent splendour. In that master dramathe very language seems to pulsate withlife, while page after page unfoldsrecords, mysteries and revelations. Byvirtue of the eloquence which the writeruses, the characters seem to assume awarm and thrilling reality. Blindinglightnings seem to kindle in the veryvaults of Heaven. Starry splendoursmystically flash in beaming eyes. Duskyvalleys reverberate with the echoes ofhuman voices. Earth trembles and reelsbeneath the swift tread of hurrying feet.The cowering hosts of Hell seem to shud-der, and the smiling angels of Heavendraw radiantly near, as the readerbroods over the majesty of fitting word,of polished sentence, of stately phraseand of peerless paragraph. It was be-cause of Macaulay's unique familiaritywith innumerable authors, including themighty and majestic Milton, that thegreat historian of the nineteenth century

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A WW UOBT ON X^KO MACAX7LATbecame renowned as the master of astyle, the source of which has perplexedthree generations of critics, and which,in some respects, is greater and morefacile than all others which went beforeAnd that style is one which, even whencompared with the brilliance of Sheri-dan, Burke, Sheil and Canning, easilymarks the highest point that a not toonchly ornamented, yet a brilliantly ora-toncal, as well as a picturesquely argu-mentative, rhetoric has attained in theentire course of the development of theEnglish language.How did Macaulay contrive to acquireso finished and perfect a literary styletThis question has often been asked, butnowhere has it been answered. An an-swer, however, may now be had, notwithstanding the famous remark which thewell-informed Jeffrey made on readingthe captivating essay on Milton, "Themore I think, the less I can conceivewhere you picked up that style.*'

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Chapteb IV.The Stanhope Relationship.

0^.tle brilliant masters whose writ-ings have contributed to the forma-tion of literary styles, the greatest,among the modems, are undoubtedly,Milton, Samuel Johnson, Addison, andGibbon. Much ofMacaulay's style is dueto his familiarity with these men. Tothem must be added another, who, oncareful reflection, cannot be overlookedin estimating the resources of a writerwho laboured with the pen three-quartersof a century ago. This last was the fam-ous Chesterlield, who, although his influ-ence in later years has declined, was asovereign in the kingdom of letters dur-

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IA NBW UGHT ON I.ORD MACAULAY

ing the early part of the nineteenth cen-tury. Chesterfield's genius passed tohis descendants, each one, as the yearsrolled on, inheriting much of the intellec-tual wealth of the ancestor. With theChesterfields Macaulay was abundantlyfamiliar. From them I have no doubtbut that he drew, perhaps even uncon-sciously, untold stores of literary wealth.Between him and the last of the house ofChesterfield, the scholarly Philip Henry,Viscount Mahon, afterwards fifth EarlStanhope, existed a relationship, whichis responsible for a circumstance that isunique in literary history, and which itis the purpose of the succeeding pages tocarefully examine.Stanhope had inherited to a large de-gree those talents which made the fourthEarl renowned both as the master of agraceful literary style, and as an arbiterof courtly deportment. He was a prolific

writer. He did not leave as much behindhim as Macaulay did, but what he didleave gives evidence of wide research andprofound scholarship. His information

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THE STANHOPE REI^TIONSHIPwas thorough. He wrote a seven volumeHistory of England, covering in itspages, in point of time, the greater partof the eighteenth century. He was alsothe author of a two volume history ofthe Reign of Queen Anne. The formerof these works was commenced in 1836,and finished about 1854: the latter wasa subsequent product of his pen.Macaulay and Stanhope were intimatefriends; although it is evident that whilethe former preserved a dignified andaustere demeanour towards his famouscontemporary. Stanhope reverencedMacaulay. TheHistory of Queen Anne'sreign commences near the place whereMacaulay s long and brilliant narrativeconcludes. In the introduction to hisvolumes. Stanhope pays his illustriousfriend a singularly flattering tribute.He says that the reader, who has beenbourne on the wings of rhetoric and im-agery through Macaulay 's stately story,may continue his interest in the loftytheme by means of his own, although lessbrilliant, pages. In Stanhope's life of

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A NEW UGHT ON IX>RD MACAULAYQueen Anne, the name of Maeaulay ismentioned no fewer than twelve times,and each time with a respect that bordersclosely upon servility. In this Hiatorvthere is no striking similarity in wordsor ideas to those of Maeaulay, althoughthere were many essays which the latterwrote treating of events that are to befound in the Queen Anne volumes. Herewas Stanhope's opportunity to fearlesslyappropriate, had he been a mere echo ofMaeaulay. The mighty master's voicewas stilled in death. His powerful pencould no longer be used to punish a pur-loiner. Why Maeaulay did not copy any-thing from this publication needs nodemonstration, for the great historianhad ceased to exist when Stanhope'sHistory of Queen Anne's reign was firstgiven with all its scholarship and splen-dour to the world.Stanhope's History of England haspassed through five editions, the fifthhaving been printed in 1858. Evidentlytowards the middle of the nineteenthcentury it had acquired an extensive re-

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THE STANHOPB RELATIONSHIPnown. Its popularity, however, has notcorresponded with its merits, for in lateryears it seems not only to have ceased tocirculate, but to have ceased to be re-pnnted. Even the libraries possess itvery sparingly, it being an exile from alltomal collections of books, except thoseof the very largest dimensions.It is important now to determine'whose production was the earliej : notmerely m print, but in actual composi-tion, for many a writer has retained hismanuscript vnpublished for years afterit has been written. And on the resultof that exammation it will appear thatone of two conclusions will be demon-strated. Either one or other of thesemen was guilty of the grossest piracythat 18 to be found in British litera.ture, or one of the most marveUouscoincidences that ever was found in let-ters will have been found to have existedbetween these two illustrious contempor-anes.Stanhope's references to Macaulayhave been given; it may be helpful to

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A NBW UGHT ON W)RD MACAUI^Yrecall Macaulay's references to his com-panion. In 1831, Macaulay, in writingfrom London to his sister Hannah, givesan account of the first glimpse he had ofStanhope, who was then Lord Mahon.**At Holland House," runs the communi-cation, **we sat down to dinner in a finelong room, in which were Lord Albe-marle, Lord Alvanley, Lord Russell,Lord Mahon,a violent Tory, but a veryagreeable companion and a very goodscholar. ' * When Stanhope published hishistory of the War of the Spanish Suc-cession, Macaulay reviewed the work,and gave it exceedingly high praise in-deed. In the light of what is to follow,Macaulay*s declaration that Stanhopepossessed some of the most valuablequalities of an historian, "perspicuous-ness, conciseness, great diligence in ex-anuning authorities, great judgment inweighing testimony, and great impartial-ity in estimating characters," is signifi-cant. Morison, Macaulay *s biographer,makes but one reference to Stanhope.Alluding to the treatment which Mac-

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THB STANHOPB KBLATIONSHIPaulay gave to the historical essay, Mor-ison says:*His (Macaulay^s) friend,**Lord Stanhope, is a much more safe,'* steady guide through the eighteenth**century. But for one reader who will**sit down to the accurate, conscientious,"ill-written History of England by Lord"Stanhope, a hundred will read the bril-* * liant essays by Macaulay. * *Trevelyan makes a further allusion toMaoaulay's contemporary just at theclose of the last volume of his ^ ^graphy.He says that Stanhope was oi of thosecelebrated citizens of London who assist-ed in c-rrying Macaulay^s remains totheir last resting place, in WestminsterAbbey. Twice Stanhope's name occursin Macaulay *s speeches on 7 ^form.These about complete the Macaulay re-ferences to the illustrious man who hadso much in common with one of the great-est writers in the world.It is evident therefore from thesereferences that Stanhope loomed largealong the horizon of Macaulay 's experi-ence during many of the years when he

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A NEW UOBT ON UORD XACAUI^Ywas brilliantly penning his immortalmessages for humanity.Macaulay*8 own attitude towards un-acknowledged literary appropriationwas often indicated, and during his life-time was well understood. Wherever hefound literary piracy he was unrelentingin its condemnation. It is said that bothCroker and Montgomery passed soonerto their graves because of the bitternessof the invectives which he heaped uponthem, and which with the increase ofMacaulay's fame, maintained a continu-ally increasing circulation. When hehimself was the victim of piracy he was

equally outspoken. The preface to hiscollected speeches contains an elaborateand detailed denunciation of one whosought to profit by appropriating hiswritings. A man named Vizetelly, whomMacaulay denounces as unprincipled,published without authority an editionof his speeches, which contained innu-merable errors. Macaulay, who, beforethe piracy took place, had not collectedhis public addresses in book form, at once

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THB STANHOPB RBI^TIONSHIPactually published a corrected volume ofhiB own speeches as a weapon of defenceagainst the miscreant who had made im-mense profits by his publication. In theintroduction to the authorized volume.Macaulay belaboured poor Vizetellymost righteously and unmercifully forhis offence of stealing the writings ofanother.Had Macaulay been the victim of an-other appropriation by another equallyaspiring writer, would he have sparedbs nval? Why should he have reviledVizeteUy and have condoned Stanhope?It was not his habit to overlook offencesof this kmd He owed Stanhope nothing.TJe fnendship which had commenced in1831 was no hindrance to the aggrievedhistorian in asserting one of the mostelementary rights of a man who io devot-mg his life to literature. He already hadmeted out but scant courtesy to his noble

fnend m the review of his War of theSpamsh Succession. In fact, the blunt-ness of the praise was not far removedfrom blame. It would have taken but47


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A NSW UOHT OK LORD MACAULATlittle to have changed the faint approvalinto a bitter depreciation, had there beensufficient justification. And a plagiarismof the kind suggested was just such ajustification as would call forth all thebittemesp which such an offence war-ranted. Moreover, it is inconceivablethat, had the language, the style, the veryspirit and form of Macaulay *8 three mostfamous essays, and those upon which hislasting reputation largely depended,been copied, paragraph after paragraph,through scores of pages by Stanhope, theinjured man would have quietly watchedthe literary appropriations passing rap-ir'iy into five editions, without having leftto the world a solitary sentence by wayof protest or complaint f

Internally the evidence supports thisconclusion. An author who copies gen-erally condenses. Except in passageswhere rein could be given to his greatimagination, Macaulay's narratives areusually abbreviations of those which6tanhope had written. Stanhope hadaccess to valuable papers which were

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THE STAKHOPB XBtATIONSBIPbeing used for historical purposes forthe first time. It was but natural thathe should have used those papers to theirfullest extent. And so he did. This detailwas capable of very great condensationwithout interfering with the narrative.What, then, was more likely than thatMacaulay should have greatly condensedthe leading sentences, of which therewere an abundance, and which formedthe vital parts in the wide survey thatStanhope made of the marvellousachievements of the eighteenth century TChapters thir^-nine and forty in vol-ume four of Stanhope's History of Eng-land, as well as several chapters in alater volume, contain a lengthy accountof England's ascendancy to dominion inIndia. Volume four of Stanhope wadfirst published in 1844, but it appears tohave been written considerably beforethat time. The literary style, the chrono-logical order of events, sometimes in adiiferent order from that in which theyoccurred; the illustrations, the arrange-ments of paragraphs, together with par-

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A NSW LIOHT ON X^BD MACAULATtioalar phrases, striking words, and on-usual expressions, and characteristiccolourings appear in Maoanlay's essays,even as they appear in those chapters ofStanhope's history.In commencing the aooonnt of dive's

life. Stanhope refers to the youthful dar-ing of the future conqueror of India, say-ing that the people of hisnativetown longremembered Clive climbing the steeple ofthe town ai^d seatmg himself on a pro-jection at the summit. Macaulay relatesthe same incident in almost pre(iisely thesame language, using in a short sentenceof three or four lines no less than ten ofthe same words that Stanhope employsin telling the incident. Here are the ver-sions. Macaulay says :^**The old peopleof the neighborhood still remember tohave heard from their parents how BobClive climbed to the top of the loftysteeple of Market-Dayton, and with whatterror the inhabitants saw him seated ona stone spout near the summit." Stan-hope says :**The people at Dayton longremembered how they saw young Clive

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THB STANHOPB RBLATI0N8BIPclimb their lofty steeple, and seatedastride a spout near the top.'' It maybe mentioned, in this connection, thatneither Malcohn, the biographer of Clive,who was most likely to be nearly pconr-ate, because all the Olive papers had beenentrusted to his care for biographicalpurposes, nor Gleig, who followed Mal-colm, says anything about Olive ''seat-ing'' himself near the top, although bothof them allude to the steeple's ascent, butfor quite a different purpose from thatmentioned by Stanhope and by Mac-aulay.Early in his Indian career, Olive at-tempted suicide. Stanhope, referring to

this fact, uses the expression, ''he twiceone day snapped a pistol at his ownhead." Macaulay says, "twice the pis-tol which he snapped at his own headfailed to go off." The remainder of theincident is told by Macaulay in wordswhich differ from those used by Stan-hope only where a change was necessaryfor condensation. Macaulay 's famouspassage descriptive of the base nature

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A MSW UOHT ON X^ID MACAULAYof Snrajah Dowlah, also has much inoommon with Stanhope. That historiantells ns that Snrajah Dowlah had a fero-oions temper and a feeble understanding.Maoanlay's version changes the order ofthese ignominious qualities, and saysthat the iniquitous Hindoo's understand-ing was naturally feeble and his temperunamiable. ** The torture of beasts andbirds," says Stanhope of the besottedIndian Rajah, "had been the pastime ofhis childhood, 'and the sufferings of fel-low-creatures became the sport of hisriper years.'* Macaulay has a slightalteration of the language, but a pre-servation not mereiy of the idea, but ofthe illustration, when he says, "It hadearly been his amusement to torturebeasts and birds, and when he grew uphe enjoyed with still keener relish themisery of his fellow creatures." Stan-hope calls Surajah in his earlier years ayouth, and that term satisfies Macaulay.The somewhat unusual word **debauch-ery |' used by Stanhope in describing thehabits of the same low-minded ruler, is

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TH tTANHOPS KSLATIONSBIPalso ^aed in the same connection by Mac-aula>. "Towards the English,'* saysStanhope of the murderer of the victimsof the Black Hole, **he looked with ignor-ant aversion.'' Maoanlay voices thesame thought in the famous words:**From a child Surajah Do^lah hadhated the English." The memorableatrocity of the Black Hole of Calcutta isthrillingly told by Stanhope in graphiclanguage. Macaulay's account of theatrocity is told in a briefer manner, butwith the use of many of the same iden-tical expressions. The former writertells how the victims of the horror aftertheir capture were first promised theirlives, and the latter writer reproducesthe same incident in the same language.Stanhope says:* The Nabob seatedhimself in the great hall of the factoryand received the congratulations of hiscourtiers." Witness Macaulay:"TheNabob seated himself.with regal pomp inthe principal hall of the factory. ' ' Afterthe prisoners were dismissed to spendthe night in the Black Hole, and before


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A NEW WGHT ON 1.0RD MACAUI.AYits fearful significance became apparentto its doomed tenants, Stanhope saysthey ** laughed and jested.'* Macaulayallows the same three words to describetheir contented behaviour. The infre-quently seen word "malefactor, as ap-plied to one of the ordinary iimiates ofthe Black Hole, is used with the samesignificance by both Stanhope and Mac-aulay. Stanhope says the guards overthe prisoners in the dungeon, in order toobserve more closely the cruel strugglesamong the d^ng, "held up lights to thebars.'* Macaulay says, they "held lightsto the bars. " Gleig, the original historianof those dark deeds, says nothing what-ever about that occurrence. When thedoor was opened, and the corpses wereobserved to be so numerous as to renderentrance impossible. Stanhope says "itbecame necessary to clear a lane. * * Mac-aulay says "it was sometime before thesoldiers could make a lane. ' ' Those whosurvived the crime and were able to'emerge from the pit of death. Stanhopedescribes as "ghastly,'* and Macaulay

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THB STANHOPB RBLATIONSRIPdoes the same. The dead were flung intoa large grave; Stanhope says "promis-cuously," and Macaulay employs thesame expression. Several of the surviv-ors who were handcuffed before beingsent to another prison, are by both writ-ers said to have been placed "in irons.*'Words and expressions such as "thence-forward, " negotiations, * "wealthymerchant," "expedient," "two treatieswere dr^wn up," "real," "fictitious,""a stipulation in his favour," "puteverything to the hazard," are all copiedunblushingly by one of the two greatauthors from the other. Even in the suc-cession in which events are narrated^sometimes without following the properorder of dates. Stanhope and Macaulayare in identity. Stanhope tells the fate ofMeer Jaffier in a snort paragraph, andfollows the account by the pathetic, yetnot wholly unwelcome, tidings of thestem and righteous punishment whichovertook the fiend Surajah Dowlah.These events are stated in a differentchronological order from that in which

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A NKW LIGHT ON I,ORD MACAUI^Ythey happened. Macaulay's version givesevery detail of each occurrence in nearlythe same inverse order in point of time,and at nearly equal length.These quotations have been given ex-tensively, and from them there can beonly one or two logical inferences. Eitherthe one author servilely copied from theother, or a comcidence has occurredwhich is wholly unique and quite withoutan example in modem literature. Butthis is not all. While it is possible, andindeed natural, for equally well informedwriters to describe the same great eventsin history in something like the samelanguage, it passes the bounds of merelyaccidental similarity to find two differentwriters simultaneously importing whollyextraneous incidents by way of mereillustration into the same august narra-tive. Coincidences may happen; butwhen it is desired to teach a great lessonin history by comparing two differentconditions of society in two totally dif-ferent parts of the world, it is more rea-sonable to ascribe the reproduction of

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THB STANHOPB RBI^TIONSHIPsentence after sentence of a similar de-scription of entirely irrelevant matter toplagiarism than to regard it as solelyand entirely a curious, yet actual, coin-cidence. To form a setting for the ad-mission of Clive*s splendid achievementsinto British History, Macaulay illus-trates the condition of India at the timeimmediately preceding its conquest bythe English, by an extensive comparisonof its history with the Germanic portionof the old Roman Empire shortly afterthat mighty confederation of principal-ities commenced to undergo a final dis-solution. Strangely enough. Stanhopepauses at the same place in the narrative,employs the same illustration, draws thesame lesson of usefulness, and, may oneadd, of honesty, from the comparison, asdoes his illustrious contemporary. Takenby itself, this incident would furnish justcause for surprise, but taken in conjunc-tion with the mass of evidence which haspreceded, it is impossible not to say thatsomewhere, between these two writers,there exists the most shameless and dar-

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A NBW tIGHT ON LORD MACAULAYing literary larceny.And so the story of Clivers rise togreatness, winning an Oriental Empirefor England, proceeds through pageafter page of history; the order ofevents, the marshalling of evidence toprove the desired facts, the directing ofthe drama presented by Stanhope beingthat which, with slight variations, gaineda world-wide celebrity in the essay ofMacaulay.In 1841 appeared Macaulay 's brilliantessay on Warren Hastings. Some years

later was published the closing volumeof Stanhope's History of England. Thatvolume reverts to Indian exploits again.Chapters sixty-seven, sixty-eight, andsixty-nine of Stanhope contain the storyof Hastings* triumphs in the East. Thosethree chapters, just as in the case of theearlier chapters on Clive, contain, in anextended form, the story which was im-mortalized by Macaulay in his stirringessay on Hastings. In both authors thesame style is seen, the same incidents arerecounted, the same allusions are made,

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THB STANHOPB KSLATIOKSHIPthe same phrases are repeated, and eventhe very words and thoughts are to befound, in history as in essay. Makingappropriate allowance for the condensa-tion which characterizes the essay, andthe expansion which marks the history,the three chapters of Stanhope mighteasily pass for Macaulay's essay onWarren Hastings. The mention of thename of Sir Elijah Impey calls forth byStanhope an allusion to his boyish rela-tionship with Hastings. The incidentcalls forth the same allusion on the partof Macaulay. The mention of the schoolwhich Hastings attended induces Mac-aulay to connect with it the name ofCowper, the poet, as a schoohnate ofHastings. Stanhope mentions the sameschool, and, like Macaulay, makes thesame reference to the presence there ofCowper. In Stanhope, Hastings had"sprung*' from a family of ancient re-nown. The word * * sprung, * ' in preciselythe same connection, is used by Mac-aulay. The latter has Hastings **as alad shipped off to India. * ' Stanhope has

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HIW UOHT ON UORD MACAULAYhim**8hippedoff,"too. Each of the twowriters refers to the boy Hastings as"little Warren," unquestionably an nn-usual accident, or a copying of the oneauthor by the other. Stanhope says thaton Impey "the fortunes of Hastingsmore than once depended.'' Macaulaysays the same. Describing the rapid andenergetic movements which culminatedin the arrest of Mohammed Beza Khan,Stanhope says, speaking of Hastings:**He took his measures accordingly withpromptitude and skill.'* Macaulay 's ver-sion, published, as has been indicated,some years earlier, lacks one of the ninewards Stanhope uses in telling this facthas two others substituted for their syn-onyms, contains two words additional, sothat the occurrence in the essay is seento read, "He took his measures with hisusual vigour and dexterity."These are but a few of the many sim-ilarities which exist between the two pro-ductions, and it hardly needs demonstra-tion that the only rational explanationfor the countless identities is that the60

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THE 8TANH0PB XBI.ATIONSHIPlater author was perfectly familiar withthe learned writings of the man who hadgone before.In the two essays on Chatham,equally a hero of both Stanhope andMacaulay,the same circumstances areapparent. Multitudes of words, phrases,

incidents, events, and it is to be feared,ideas, are conunon to both of the illus-trious patriot's admirers.Stanhope wrote with a powerful pen,and used exceptionally briliant lang-uage. So likewise did Macaulay. Of thelatter it is proper to say that he soarsmore easily to loftier flights of rhetoricthan does Stanhope, although Stanhope'ssilvery sentences are an unfailing char-acteristic of his various voluminous his-tories. It must be remembered that boththese men depended on the monumentalvolumes of Malcohn, Orme, Gleig andMill for much of their information.Where essayist and historian quote, theyemploy quotation marks, and make dueacknowledgment. But it is no explana-tion of the many likenesses which exist

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A NBW LIGHT ON LORD UACAVULYbetween these authors to say that theyare dne to the fact that the same origina]authorities were resorted to by both ofthem. It is very remote from probabilityto find two eminent men giving expres-sion to whole.pages of opinions, and nar-rating whole pages of incidents in thesame identical lofty and unnsnal lan-guage.

If the circumstances which have beennarrated be due to accident, then theaccident is sufficiently important to jus-tify preservation. If it be due to piracy,then the crime deserves to be placed onpermanent record. Differences in datesof publication mean nothing, for veryfrequently friends are privileged to ex-amine the writings of one another, longbefore those writings are committed tothe care of the public. Carljle's FrenchBevolntion was written long years beforeit ever felt the touch of printer's ink.So with the products of innumerableother authors * pens. It transcends prob-ability, it defies reason, that one mancould perform the mysterious undertak-

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THB STANHOPB RBLATION8HIPing of nnintentionally (ransoribing awhole book of his contemporary, condens-ing or expanding the copy to suit his his-torical exigencies, and then offer it to thepublic as the original output of his mind.One hundred pages of the one writer andthree hundred pages of the other, similarin style, substance, diction and matter,have been regarded in each instance, fora period of over sixty years, as whollyoriginal literature. Was the statelyStanhope the disappointing culprit, orwas the incomparable Macaulay the base,though mighty, echo of his erudite con-temporary?

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ChaptbbV.Maoattlat's Obnius.

^^HILB Macaulay derived his stylefrom oountless sources, there wereother mines of literarytreasares that hisgenins never knew. He was ahnost tooearly for Tennyson ; and yet some of thatpeerless laureate's matchless minstrelsyhad already entranced the hearts of men,while the great historian, utterly obliv-ious of its marvellous utterance, wastouching the souls of the British peoplewith the passion of his oratory. But ifhe lived too soon to be engulfed by therich and crystal flow of sweetness whichTennyson's art disclosed, he did not livetoo early to be overwhelmed by thestrange and subtle mystery of theHeaven-penetrating Shelley. Yet neitherShelley's name, nor his almost miracu-

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MACAUIAY'S OSNIUlloufi measures, ever made their powersfelt in the great historian's life. AndShelley had a magio spell that was hannt-ing, and a literary spirit that was sub-lime. His dramas glowed with fierywords, and burned with flaming sen-tences. His poetry laid bare the verychoicest treasures of human speech. Thepoet's mighty wings ever beat restlesslyagainst the bars of being, as if he recog-nized the manifest limitations of theEnglish tongue, and sought to soar tosome sublimer sphere where his soul'sdeep aspirations might be expressed bysome less cramping medium than merewords. He was embarrassed not by thewealth but by the poverty which he feltto be a characteristic of language. Thevaulted Heavens seemed to open; theluminous stars seemed to radiate an in-tense splendour; the fair flowers seemedto blossom with an unaccustomed loveli-ness, in the vast and boundless richnessof his verse. Keats, with a voice not unlike that of his own deathless nightingale,dwelling in the clouds, and singing to thestars, filled the close of the eighteenthcentury with a spirit-stirring music kin-

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A NSW UOBT ON LORD MACAULAVdred to the muBic of the spheres. Cole-ridge,"with looks aspersed with fairy foam,"pouring out his heart and intellect inthose subtle numbers, from the weird andghostly mystery of Kubla Khan and theAncient Mariner, to the maddened har-monies of the Ode to Liberty, andGhristabel, gaaed out over the samestormy generation with the look of onewho was a pnnce in his reakn, and awizard of his art. Quaint old mystery-loving Scott, attended by ghosts and gob-lins, and accompanied by sprites andfairies, regally descended from the hoaryheights of Caledonian mountains, crestedwith eternal winters, and overhung bythe sparkling jewels of frosty constellations, into the soft retreats of Lowlandvales, musical with tuneful waters, andvirgin with rich verdure and unsurpassedromance. There, where the fair flowersblushed and blossomed, there where thedeep shadows lengthened and fell, themystic minstrel flashed before men's eyesstrange images, bom of swift and un-

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MACAULAY'S GSNIU8familiar words and spirit-haunting sen-tences ; and those elementary instrumentsof expression seemed in some curiousmanner to conceal weird shapes andwondrous forms, as mBrvellous as everclustered around foi * nUliag mountainpasses, or as floate*! gi.y aiKi m >t-likedown zephyr carefh' ci va'f v?, or ; irosstempest tormentid h-cama But iheseand similar sonrceH of l't< ,?;r> art,strength, sublimity ai


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A NBW UOBT ON LORD MACAUIAYmight be merely an encmnbrance iftransplanted to another age. Yet thedifference between 1919 and 1859, whenMacaulay left this planet behind him, isworthy of a moment's reflection."Westward the course of Empiretakes its way*'

has become a fact of history rather thana sentiment of poetry. A new era throbsupon the Western Hemisphere, while themajesty and strength of an imheraldedcivilization reigns all over a peerless con-tinent, from the westward, where thefading sunset glorifies the cloud-em-bosomed Rockies, to the eastward, wherethe commerce-laden rivers seek the Eng-land-guarded seas. New Londons, newBirminghams, new Glasgows and newBelfasts, in the form of Chicago, NewYork, Toronto and Montreal, have be-come permanent establishments in NorthAmerica, with the tumult of their peoplemaking music on the thoroughfares, andthe smoke of their industries spreadingdarkness through the skies. A hundredmillion residents now contentedly abide

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MACAULAT'S GBNIUSwhere a mere handful of sojourners for-merly anxiously lingered. Lakes andrivers that once were the forbidding ter-ror of daring navigators, have becomethe willing ministers of endless industryand trade. Prairies, which were thoughtto be the abode of mystery and danger,have become the sources of a world'suntold supplies of food. A long fearedand long expected war, of world-widedimensions, has come with all its brood-ing misery to humanity. Passions, thatwere thought to have been entombed,have obtained a ghastly reawakening.Or is it merely that the opportunity fortheir previous appearance was missing;for the passions of the soul are bom inthe human flesh, and not merely in his-torical circumstance? Ruin has con-fronted the world, but ever as in the pastboundless restoration has triumphedover measureless destruction. A nation,cradled in happiness and peace, yet withthe Alexander-like longing for unknownconquests, sought to soar across searedhearts and bleeding bodies to **a place

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A NBW UGBT ON WRD MACAX7IAYin the sun"; and is now meeting with theterrible doom of the Babylonian King-dom and of the Roman Empire. Aftera four years* struggle, in which Britainhas still proved herself, as she has forcenturies gone by, to be the enthronedSovereign of the Waves, the echo of thecannon is dying out in the hearts of apeople who love liberty better than life,and justice more than happiness. Withinthose four years the Anglo-Saxon racehas passed through the experiences ofcenturies ; yet out of the flaming furnacethe gleaming gold has come, whilQ thedross has been left behind.Inspired minds in years to come mustguide the pens that shall supply a hun-gering posterity with the satisfying storyof Britain's unconquerable daring, ofCanada's deathless heroism, of our

Allies' illustrious intrepidity, of all thethrilling memories of this marvellouslyunrivalled time. Yet the pen of a Mac-aulay would have been supremely fittingto make the record complete. For everyresource will be required to preserve


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MACAULAY'S GBNIUSfrom destruction the numberless fadingdetails of these titanic years. We readthe story of the past, and feel that thegiants of our earlier world were viewlessmyths, and that their vaunted achieve-ments were legendary impossibilities.Another age may be equally nnkind, anddo the same to us; for credulity oftenfalters in the presence of the stupendous,and the past sometimes fades into doubtsas well as into distance. Other historiansof these mighty events will grandly live,and give their recollections to the world!Yet had Macaulay been a denizen of thisgreat age, his story of its greatness and

its glory would flash sublimely along theages, to bum with an increasing radiancewhile the changing seasons hurry on, andto kmdle new ambitions in the souls ofunborn races, while the generations andthe centuries are left behind.For years, in common with countlessthousands, I, too, have revered Macaulayas a master maker of the literature ofEngland. While considering the possi-bility of his literary perfidy, as being71


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A miW UGHT ON WRD IfACAUtAYperfectly unthinkable, and hoping thatlott somewhere in the bosom of the van-ished years lies a silent explanation ofthe mystery, I turn to the brighter andnobler aspect of his career, and bringthis imperfect survey of his genius to amore fitting and glorious close. For hisgenius was truly magnificent. He hadthe ability to lead instead of to follow,and thousands were the golden oppor-tunities on which he demonstrated thissupreme capacity. Whenever he foundhimself in previously untraversedreahns, his progress through them waslustrous with ahnost unwonted brilliance.In many of his essays, in his History ofEngland, in his speeches, and even in hispoetry, he rose with almost unconsciousease to the very zenith of literary splen-dour. There are passages in his speecheswhich are resplendent with the most per-fect eloquence known to the entire nine-teenth century; paragraphs which bringback to memory the vanished days ofother lands, when Demosthenes thun-dered sublimely against the dreaded

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MACAULAY'S GSNIUSMacedonian, when Cicero's majestic ora-tory aroused ancient Rome against theperilous treacheries of the skilful andindefatigable Cataline. There are wholepages of Macaulay's speeches which arefreighted with irresistible suggestions ofthe golden days when Burke magnificent-ly arraigned the oppressors of India'sbenighted millions, when Grattan's sil-very voice rang through two pariiamentchambers as he passionately pleadedwith an unbending legislature for theindependence of the Irish people, whenBright with ahnost superhuman energystormed the granite foundations whichsupported the mighty system of Ameri-can slavery, when Cobden with triumph-ant eloquence declaimed against the op-pressive Com Laws of England. Forclose upon three generations every Eng-lish-speaking orator has venerated Mac-aulay as a perfect master of peerlesBritish eloquence. His language is nothki Chatham's, so lofty and so etherealas ahnost to dismay; it is not likeErskine's, so overburdened with rhetor-

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A NBW UOHT ON LOW) MACAULATwal ornament as almost to overwhelm.His periods have an amplitude ihat is alltheir own. Gladstone's sentences aretoo lengthy and too cnmbrons to entitlehim to rank as one of the oratoricalmodels of his century. Moriey 's periodsare too condensed and too severe to per-mit of his universal acceptance as anideal moulder of a true oratorical style.Browning forces words to performthe work of phrases. Carlyle re-duces into phrases what other writ-ers expand into paragraphs. Count-less authors, equally renowned, offend inkindred particulars. Such writers repelrather than attract the tens of thousandsof readers who welcome literature as acharm and a recreation, rather than ap-proach it as a burden and a task. Brighthas a number of passages in his speechesas luminous as any Macaulay ever deliv-ered, notably the rhetorical flight aboutthe "fluttering of the angel's wings,"and the **wade through slaughter to athrone" peroration, but he often sinksto the commonplace after those splendid

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VACAUI^Y'S GENIUSoratorical eminences have been gained.Maoaulay, however, struck a happymedinm in his style. He is rhetoricalhe IS picturesque; he is weighty; he iselegant; he charms, but he does not tire;he mspires, but he does not confuse. Hedoes not occasionally rise above hiscustomary height; he does not some-tunes descend below his ordinary levelAt the commencement of his careerhe attorned an eminence in his art.far beyond that reached by any oratorof his time. Above that pinnacle heinfrequently soared, and below it heseldom dropped during all the stirringvicissitudes of his memorable publiccareer. Few had equalled him as amaster enricher of style ere he firstflashed like a new and wondrous iUu-mmation upon the world. Few learnedthe important lesson in oratory which hewas teaching during the years in whichhe spoke hke an inspired prophet to thepeople. And since he has passed away,men m all countries have marvelled athis powers, and have stood transfixed at

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A IfBW UGBT ON I,QKO MACAULAYhis ability, yet have receded before hisgenius and aehievements. He is read;he is admired; he satisfies; he fills withdelight. Thousands in every land andin every age have accepted him, and willcontinue to accept him, as a prince of thepen, as a king of the platform, and as onewho, by voice and by tongue, placed elo-quence and literature upon a more statelythrone, from which it is destined to swaythe world through centuries that are yetto come.

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A New Light On Lord Macaulay

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