out his works," is attributing a perfection hardly possible for mortal writer. Doubtless very few of his sentences are ambiguous, even at first glance; and in several that do mislead on first inspection, the meaning is not hard to find. His general method is decidedly perspicuous, although, as we have seen in discussing his paragraphs, it also comes short of perfection, and is open to amendment. His numerous examples and comparisons conduce greatly to perspicuity. And, finally, his extraordinary number of contrasts is a help in the same direction.

While Macaulay is one of the most perspicuous of English writers, he has no claim to the merit of being minutely exact. We have seen that, after stating a general principle, he makes his meaning perspicuous-clear in its leading outlines-by a free quotation of examples. But he quotes his examples roundly and confidently; he very seldom pauses to take note of casuistical objections, of special circumstances making a particular case doubt ful as an example of his general assertion: Frederick the Great is a typical German, and commits blunders in French that would have moved a smile in the literary circles of Paris; Sir Walter Scott is a typical Scotsman, and he perpetrates Scotticisms that a London apprentice would laugh at; Ben Jonson was a great man, Hoole a very small man-yet Ben Jonson's verse was rugged, and Hoole, as coming after Pope, poured out decasyllabic verses in thousands, "all as well turned, as smooth, and as like each other as the blocks which have passed through Mr Brunel's mill in the dockyard at Portsmouth." In like manner his comparisons are perspicuous, are good as broad indications of his general meaning; but they have the same defect a defect for certain purposes at least-of not being nicely pointed to the relevant circumstances, of not entering into exact details. We get but a vague notion of the doctrines of the Church of England from the statement that "she occupies a middle position between the Churches of Rome and Geneva; and little distinct information about Addison's Epistle from the statement that "it contains passages as good as the second-rate passages of Pope, and would have added to the reputation of Parnell or Prior." It is not by such rough assertions that accurate knowledge is imparted; they convey rather the conceit of knowledge than the reality; they are simple but vague.

When we insist upon Macaulay's want of minute exactness, of all pretension to be called an accurate writer, it is but fair to notice that minute exactness, scrupulous accuracy, did not accord with the popular design of his works. He wrote for hurried readers, and more to amuse or interest than to instruct. He considered that "laborious research and minute investigation" belonged to authors by profession. We can excuse a want of exactness in a writer so anxious to make his language perspicu

ous.

For his perspicuity he certainly deserves all praise; and it is always right to point out that from this very quality his inexactness is easily discovered, and that he passes for shallow in many quarters where a more shal ow and at the same time more obscure writer would pass for profound. Particularly is he admirable for his profuseness of exemplification: he often supplies us with the means of correcting his own indistinct generalities. Even his comparisons to individuals and specific institutions, though vague, are seldom misleading: if they convey little substantial knowledge, they at least convey no error. For such comparisons it may always be pleaded that they awaken curiosity, and set the inquirer on the right track; if we desire fuller information, they direct us where to look for it. In a hasty review of the doctrines of the Church of England, it is perhaps best to incite the reader to compare them with the doctrines of other Churches; and where limits preclude a full discussion, to furnish no more detail than an index map.

Strength.

In the quality of strength, Macaulay offers a great and obvious contrast to De Quincey-the contrast between brilliant animation and stately pomp. His movement is more rapid and less dignified. He does not slowly evolve his periods, "as under some genial instinct of incubation: he never remits his efforts to dazzle; and in his most swelling cadences, he always seems to be perorating against an imaginary antagonist.

Most of the elements of his peculiar animation have already been noticed in other connections. We have already commented upon the varied expression, the abrupt transitions, the constant play of antithesis, the perspicuous methol, and the lively array of concrete particulars. We have also noticed implicitly the exhilarating pace both of the language and of the thoughts, the rapidity of the rhythm-as determined by shortness of phrase, clause, and sentence-and the quick succession of the ideas.

As regards his animated "objectivity," or concreteness, there is one thing that might be brought out more fully-namely, his art of enlivening condensed narrative by pictorial, or at least concrete, circumlocutions. We quote as an example part of his account of Strafford :

"He had been one of the most distinguished members of the Opposition, and felt towards those whom he had deserted that peculiar malignity which has, in all ages, been characteristic of apostates. He perfectly understood the feelings, the resources, and the policy of the party to which he had lately belonged, and had formed a vast and deeply meditated scheme which very nearly confounded even the able tactics of the statesmen by whom the House of Commons had been directed. His object was to do for England all,

and more than all, that Richelieu was doing in France; to make Charles a monarch as absolute as any on the Continent," &c.

These frequent allusions to actual men and things would alone make the style vivacious; the rapid succession of particulars is in itself exhilarating.

He had a great command over the proper vocabulary of strength. He is very vehement in his epithets. Whole pages might be quoted that contain hardly a single adjective under the degree of enormous. One of his favourite themes is the corruption and profligacy of the Restoration times. Whenever he has occasion to speak of this, he seems to fall into a passion, and uses the strongest language that propriety will allow. And this subject is only one out of many that provoke his vehemence to an equal degree. On every subject, indeed, he expresses himself with confidence, and in language habitually bordering on the extreme.

·

He has been much taken to task for the violence of his invective. Certainly, when he conceived a dislike to an individual or to an institution, he expressed his feelings without reserve. And he disliked a great many characters. He disliked all the English statesmen of the Revolution period for their treachery and want of patriotism. Sir William Temple he pronounces to be "the most respectable" of them. Yet even Temple, he declares, was not a man to his taste"; he "had not sufficient warmth and elevation of sentiment to deserve the name of a virtuous man. Judge Jeffreys he regards with the most absolute loathing, and holds up to contempt and hatred with an indignation as cordial as if one of his own family had been among the bloody monster's many victims. Concerning this part of the History, Mr Croker said in the 'Quarterly Review' that the historian had almost realised Alexander Chalmers's Biographia Flagitiosa; or, the Lives of Eminent Scoundrels.' "He hates," said Mr Croker further, "nearly everybody but Cromwell, William, Whig exiles, and Dissenting parsons." The last sneer goes perhaps too far; the insinuation is hardly correct Macaulay was much more impartial in his hatred than this would imply. He hated some of the French Republicans as heartily as he hated any of our English ancestors, whether Whig or Tory. He has written nothing stronger than his condemnation of Barrère. Barrère "approached nearer than any person mentioned in history or fiction, whether man or devil, to the idea of consummate and universal depravity." This is very strong, but becomes stronger still as the historian proceeds. Here he makes Barrère an approximation to unqualified depravity: a little further, and he drops the slight reservation. "All the other chiefs of parties had some good qualities, and Barrère had none.” "Barrère had not a single virtue, nor even the semblance of one."

Sometimes, in his contemptuous and derisive moods, he uses a

studied meanness of expression that reminds us of the coarse familiarity of Swift. Thus, speaking of Boswell, he says "If he had not been a great fool, he would never have been a great writer." So of Chatham, he says "He was not invited to become a placeman, and he therefore stuck firmly to his old trade of patriot." This homely order of expression he often employs with great effect in the way of derisive refutation. Thus in ridiculing Southey's sentimental views on questions of politica' economy, he says "We might ask how it can be said that there is no limit to the production of paper money, when a man is hanged if he issues any in the name of another, and is forced to cash what he issues in his own?"

It is difficult to draw the line between such strength of language and the figure of speech known as hyperbole. The italicised expressions in the following passages are unmistakably hyperbolical. Such expressions are very common in Macaulay, and, read along with the context, do not strike us as rising far above the general level of his language :—

"The house of Bourbon was at the summit of human greatness. England had been outwitted, and found herself in a situation at once degrading and perilous. The people of France, not presaging the calamities by which they were destined to expiate the perfidy of their sovereign, went mad with pride and delight. Every man looked as if a great estate had just been left him.' "His own reflections, his own energy, were to supply the place of all Downing Street and Somerset House. The preservation of an empire from a formidable combination of foreign enemies, the construction of a government in all its parts, were accomplished by him, while every ship brought out bales of censure from his employers, and while the records of every consultation were filled with acrimonious minutes by colleagues."

One of his modes of exaggeration is almost a mannerism. Whatever he happens to be engaged with is in some respect or other the most wonderful thing that ever existed. The following are his two most common forms for expressing such a conviction: -(1.) "No election ever took place under circumstances so favourable to the Court." (2.) "Of all the many unpopular steps taken by the Government, the most unpopular was the publishing of this declaration."

He is sometimes betrayed into making the same extreme statement about two different persons. Thus he says of Clarendon"No man ever laboured so hard to make himself despicable and ludicrous;" and it is notorious that he makes a like remark about Boswell.

So much for the animation of Macaulay's manner. As regards his choice of subjects, it may be said in general that he is careful to take up only such as have an independent interest to the mass of English readers. Consequently his charms of style operate at

every advantage; they have no dead weight to overcome; they are required only to support the natural interest of the matter. A History of England, if written with moderate spirit, would always have an attraction for every Englishman; written with Macaulay's glowing patriotism and brilliant style, it proved more attractive than the most captivating novel. Similarly with his Essays. His article on Milton placed him at once in the first rank of popular favourites; an extraordinary success resulting, not so much from the display of his literary knowledge, as from the happy application of his glittering rhetoric to a theme much can vassed at the time. All his essays are upon men of first-rate interest: any particulars about Machiavelli, Byron, Johnson, Bacon, Pitt, or Frederick the Great, are eagerly read, if there is any appearance of novelty in the manner of relating them.

Great men and great events-these are the favourite themes of Macaulay. When such matter is handled in such a manner, no wonder that the writer is the most popular author of his day.

Animation is our author's distinguishing quality; but often from the grandeur of his subject, and of the objects that he brings into comparison with it from all countries and from all times, his style takes a loftier tone.

There is something more than animating in his easy manner of ranging through space and time. To be transported with such freedom from continent to continent, from dynasty to dynasty, and from age to age; to pass judgment on the rival pretensions of the foremost men and the most august empires that have appeared in the world, this, unless we have a very frivolous conception of what we are doing, should elevate us to the highest heights of sublimity. Macaulay's abrupt manner is sometimes antagonistic to the finest effects that might be accomplished by these ambitious surveys. But very often his eloquence is lofty and imposing.

Thus, in advocating with wonted enthusiasm the apotheosis of Lord Clive :

"From Clive's second visit to India dates the political ascendancy of the English in that country. His dexterity and resolution realised, in the course of a few months, more than all the gorgeous visions which had floated before the imagination of Dupleix. Such an extent of cultivated territory, such an amount of revenue, such a multitude of subjects, was never added to the dominion of Rome by the most successful proconsul. Nor were such wealthy spoils ever borne under arches of triumph, down the Sacred Way, and through the crowded Forum, to the threshold of Tarpeian Jove. The fame of those who subdued Antiochus and Tigranes grows dim when compared with the splendour of the exploits which the young English adventurer achieved at the head of an army not equal in numbers to one hal. of a Roman legion."

Perhaps his noblest flight of sublimity is his eulogy of the