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"Can it be possible," whispered she, "that you and and I are really like Macaulay's lone watcher of the world-wreck on London Bridge?" "That we are actually seeing the thing so often dreamed of by prophets and poets? That 'All this mighty heart is lying still, at last forever? The heart of the world, never to beat again?"
The face of England has changed more since Macaulay's time, though a bare generation since, than it had changed in the four or five generations between the day of his theme and his own; and thus he rescued for us at once the present and the past.
Believe me, it would give both of us great pleasure to show you our pleasant farms and villages. We both join in kindest loves to you and yours. C. LAMB redivivus. An édition de luxe, illustrated by John Martin, and with an Introduction by Southey. See Macaulay's review of it. Hood's. The translator of Dante. January 22, 1829. Don't trouble yourself about the verses. Take 'em coolly as they come.
This story has been contemptuously rejected by Macaulay as a Jacobite fable composed many years after both actors in the scene were dead. The story may not be true, but Macaulay's reasons for rejecting it are not quite exact. Reports of Claverhouse's gallantry at Seneff were certainly current during his lifetime.
And so with regard to Macaulay's style there may be faults of course what critic can't point them out? But for the nonce we are not talking about faults: we want to say nil nisi bonum.
When he went to India he took with him some of the scholastic writers and the works of Kant and Fichte, then known to few Englishmen. One of Macaulay's experiences at Holland House was a vision of Mackintosh verifying a quotation from Aquinas. It must have been delightful.
His essays in 1830 on Southey and Montgomery, and one in 1831 on Croker's edition of Boswell's Life of Johnson, were fierce, scathing onslaughts, even cruel and crushing, revealing Macaulay's tremendous powers of invective and remorseless criticism, but reflecting little credit on his disposition or his judgment.
He has a wonderful command of language, and he makes his meaning clear by striking phrases, vigorous antitheses, anecdotes, and illustrations. His style is so clear that "he who runs may read," and from beginning to end he never loses the attention of his readers. Second, Macaulay's good spirits and enthusiasm are contagious.
If Mill really meant what Macaulay took him to mean, it would be superfluous to argue the question gravely. The reasoning is only fit, like the reasoning of all Macaulay's antagonists, for the proverbial schoolboy.
Indeed, leaving out the facts which Macaulay suppresses or is ignorant of, and taking into account only those which he includes, his judgment of Bacon is still erroneous. Long before we read Mr. Dixon's book, we had reversed Macaulay's opinion merely by scrutinizing, and restoring to their natural relations, Macaulay's facts. But Mr.
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