LOED MACAULAY • ESSAYIST Ays HISTORIAN LORD MACAULAY ESSAYIST AND HISTORIAN BY THE HON. ALBERT S. Q. CANNING AUTHOR OF 'PHILOSOPHY OF CHARLES DICKENS' 'RELIGIOUS STRIFE IX BRITISH HISTORY' ETC. UiriVEESITTl LONDON SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 1882 [All rights reserve d'^ M 111 V r6^f CONTENTS PAET I. mSATIST PART 11. HISTORIAN 137 >/ ^^ OF TEE UBTIVBRSIT?] ESSAYIST AND HISTORIAK PART I. ESSAYIST. During tlie last forty or fifty years it is re- markable how roany eminent British states- men and writers have proclaimed to the world their love for the ancient hterature of Greece and Eome. The fourteenth Earl of Derby and the first Lord Lytton, who began their pohtical Hves as ardent Liberals and closed them as steady Conservatives ; Mr. Gladstone and Lord Macaulay, the former a Conservative in youth and prime but a Liberal in advanced age, the latter a consistent Liberal B 2 LOKD MACAULAY. through hfe — have ahke proved, by speeches and writings, their intense love of classic literature.^ Even during the toil of public life, in middle age, and thus amid private as well ^| as pubhc cares. Lord Derby and Mr. Glad- stone evidently relieved their harassed minds by examining and translating the works of Homer and other Greek writers, both dwel- hng on the subject of classic hterature, Greek i especially, with the keenest interest and de- light. Lord Derby's literal and excellent translation of the ' Iliad,' and Mr. Gladstone's profound examination of Greek literature in his ' Homeric Age ' and ' Juventus Mundi,' were all written during the leisure allowed by public life. Yet in those labours of research and reflection, which often weary and some- times exhaust the faculties alike of teachers and students, these two Prime ^linisters ap- ^ Mr. Trevelyan says of Macaulay , * lie knew the characters and careers of the great men who had paced the Forum as intimately as those of his own rivals in Parliament.' — Life of Macaulay, vol. ii. chap. iv. '^ESSAYIST. 3 parently found mental relief from the cares, thoughts, and troubles of EngHsh political Hfe. Lord Lytton, perhaps more distinguished as a writer than statesman, reveals the same love for classic thoughts and times, both in his books and speeches ; but, on the whole, Latin literature and Eoman times interest him more than those of Greece. In his ' Last Days of Pompeii ' especially he shows, from his exact, minute descriptions of manners and customs, how he loved to recall those times, and how vividly they were present to his mind in all their full reality. Lord Macaulay's reverential love for classic literature apparently far exceeded his admiration for classic times, manners, and customs, although even they interested him greatly. In all his ideas and opinions he was essentially a modern Englishman of Liberal views. Few men appreciated modern im- provements more eagerly, or detested the ig- norance and prejudices of former times more B 2 LORD MACAULAY. thoroughly than he. All through his Essays, especially those on Bacon, Addison, and Eanke's History, he is constantly preferring present times to the past, and anticipating a far better and happier future for mankind than the world has yet seen. The romantic legends of the ]\iiddle Ages and of Chivalry apparently possessed no charm for him, as they did for Scott and Byron. On the con- trary, the cruelty, ignorance, and superstition so prevalent in those days have impressed him with perhaps an exaggerated contempt and abhorrence. The odious injustice of the ancient Athenians towards many of their most ex- cellent men — Socrates, ^sop, &c. — as well as the cruel usages of ancient Eome, would also doubtless have shocked his civilised mind ; but for the literature and pecuhar genius of both Greece and Eome, Macau- lay felt not only an admiration, but a reverence which induced him, perhaps unconsciously, rather to undervalue the ESSAYIST. literature and literary men of his own en- lightened times. ^ Although a Scotchman by family, Macau- lay was apparently free from those stron^ ^ national partiahties which usually distinguish his countrymen, and which even Alison and Scott often reveal in their histories and novels. Neither Scotch exploits of former times, the pecuhar habits and legends of the Highlanders, nor the poems attributed to Ossian aroused his pride or attracted his fancy. Even his illustrious fellow-country- man Walter Scott, whose great mind and immortal works justly rendered him the pride of North Britain, neither much pleased nor in- terested Macaulay. For he was actually, by his own admission, in what must have been wilful ignorance of many, perhaps most, of his ^ 'Macaulay bad very slight acquaintance with the works ' > of some of the best writers of bis own generation. He was • not fond of new lights, unless they bad been kindled at the ancient beacons, and he was apt to prefer a third-rate author who had formed himself after some recognised model, to a man of high genius whose style and method were strikingly different from anything that bad gone before.' — Trevelyan's Life of Macaulay, vol. ii. 6 LORD ^lACAULAY. writings.^ It is less surprising, therefore, that he confessed ' not having formed so high an opinion of his character as most people seem to entertain,' and also that he thought him in pohtics ' a bitter and unscrupulous partisan.' ^ Yet those who had the privilege of Scott's acquaintance have generally testified that there was little bitterness in his kind, genial nature, while the heavy charge of unscru- pulousness would be much more easy to allege than to prove against him. In his ad- mirable historical novels — ' Waverley,' ' Old Mortality,' 'Woodstock,' &c. — where he de- scribes the political and rehgious contentions of Great Britain, he has succeeded in pleasing as well as inter estini? readers of all denomina- tions, and their beneficial effect upon the public mind has been generally acknow- ledged.^ ^ Macaulay admits that ' he knew no more of his famous contemporary than of Dr}den and Addison, and not a tenth part so much as of Swift, Johnson, or Cowper.' — Life of Macaulay, vol. ii. chap, vii. * Trovolyan's Life of Macaulay, vol. ii. ^ See Alison's remarks on this subject: History of Europe, vol. i. ESSAYIST. 7/ But a man of Macaulay's keen intelligence would not probably have expressed this opinion of Scott had it not arisen at least partly from that surprising ignorance of his works which he himself admits. In fact, Macaulay, especially at the outset of his Hterary career, was himself an extremely vehement, if not bitter, political partisan, though he cannot fairly be called unscru- pulous. In his first beautiful Essay on Liilton, which ' excited greater attention than any article which had ever appeared not im- mediately connected with the politics of the day,' ^ he displays this party-spirit most clearly. For, in common mth Milton and many other able and distinguished men, Macaulay viewed the arbitrary conduct of King Charles the First with deep indignation. Yet Milton, while advocating the rights and liberties of his English fellow-countrymen, was by no means inclined to extend the same rights, or indeed any rights, to some of his ^ Dean Milman's Memoir of Macaulay, p. 9. 8 LORD MACAULAY. ])olitical and religious opponents. In his re- markable Essay on ' Peace with Irish Eebels ' lie recommends a policy towards them, and towards his fellow English Eoman Cathohcs fully, as intolerant and tyrannical as the most extreme measures of Charles the First and his despotic minister Lord Strafford. Yet ffilton has generally enjoyed the reputation of being a staunch friend to human hberty, and when advocating the rights of his fellow-Protestants throughout the world, his noble language and eloquent style would apparently justify this behef. ( But there can be no surer test of a man's real love of liberty than his conduct or wishes respecting those whom he beheves irrecon- cilably opposed to his own opinions. If any (iandid reader, therefore, carefully studies liis Essay on the state of Ireland and the policy he recommends his fellow-countrymen to adopt to- wards the Irisli, he will perceive that Milton's love of liberty disappears when irritated by the conduct of those he considers barbarous ESSAYIST. 9 or superstitious foes. Yet Macaulay, though maldng hardly any allusion to Milton's Irish pohcy, actually writes that ' nowhere does the great poet rise higher than in those parts of his controversial works in which his spirits are excited by conflict,' &c. (p. 57). It is in these very passages of religious or pohtical controversy where his love of human freedom seems to yield completely to political enthusiasm. For instance, he wrote a beautiful and most affecting poem on a cruel massacre of Piedmontese Protestants by Itahan Poman Catholics ; anyone reading it would imagine the author a keen advocate for human hberty of thought and feeling. But when mentioning the Irish, or even his Poman Catholic fellow-countrymen, his feel- ings seem wholly changed. The terrible massacre at Drogheda by Cromwell he never deplores, and indeed probably approved, judg- ing from the tone of his writings about Ire- land. In fact Cromwell, especially in Ireland, 10 LOED MACAULAY. practically enforced tlie policy recommended by his friend and admirer, Milton. It was well said by Archbishop Whately that '" party-spirit has a tendency to pardon anything in those who belong to a party and nothing in those who do not.' ^ To this ten- dency, so injurious, if not fatal, to hberty and justice, ]\iilton evidently yielded, as his writ- ings prove ; while Macaulay, though far less violent and far more enlightened, is not as free from it as a man so amiable and well-informed oufj^ht to have been. For while admittins^ Cromwell's Irish career as one of wholesale extirpation,^ he evidently views his great hero's cruelties with feelings very different from those which animate his glowino- de- scriptions of similar acts authorised or com- mitted by political opponents. Nearly two centuries elapsed between the times of Milton and Macaiday, and in each instance we find an able, illustrious, ^ Annotation to Bacon's Essays. * History of Eiujland, chap. i. ESSAYIST. 11 patriotic man, inveighing powerfully against the tyranny of religious or political opponents, but unable to view the crimes of partisans with equally consistent detestation. The fierce, even relentless bitterness of Milton is indeed never equalled by Macaulay ; but it must be remembered that the former wrote amid all the exciting influences of civil war, the latter in a calm period of profound do- mestic peace. But tliey alike manifest an approval of Cromwell's conduct as well as character, which appears far more founded on enthusiasm than on justice. His wise rule in England, his wonderful self-control under every sort of calumny, insult, and irritation, and his admirable firmness in re- straining the violence of his followers against both personal and political enemies, have been acknowledged by all parties. But to approve his cruelties in Ireland like Milton, or make light of them like Macaulay, are remarkable proofs how far an enthusiastic party-spirit, or hero-worship, can allure even 12 LORD MACAULAY. able and liberal-minded men not only from feelings of ordinary humanity, but from the rules of simple consistency. Macaulay in his Essay on Milton evi- dently considers him a steady lover of liberty and freedom. He has been so regarded by most of his Protestant fellow-countrymen, yet he certainly opposed even tolerating Eoman Catholicism, which was still the rehgion of some among his most enlightened fellow- countrymen as well as of most Christian countries. He warmly sympathised with foreign Protestants, who in his time were often persecuted by Eoman Catholic Govern- ments, and he also pitied and tried to console the illustrious Galileo, when imprisoned by the Italian Inquisition. All over the world Milton would have doubtless compassionated, perhaps even elo- quently advocated, tlie cause of the oppressed and persecuted, provided that the oppressors were opposed to liis own views, or that to some extent the opinions of the persecuted ESSAYIST. 1 o resembled his own. But this party-spirit was surely no proof of his love of real liberty ; had he even tried to moderate his hero Cromwell's severities towards Irish Eoman Catholics, or devoted his majestic eloquence to advocating merciful principles among triumphant partisans, he would thus have established his fame as a champion of human rights, far more gloriously and decidedly than by the most eloquent declamation on behalf of his own religious or political views. ( Unfortunately, his prose works must be searched in vain for anything of the kind. Even towards those whose religious opinions differed little from his own, Milton's language and sentiments were haughty, tyrannical, and arrogant to the last degree, if their poHtics were opposed to his own. When the Irish Presbyterian clergy at and near Belfast disapproved of the Commonwealth and the king's execution, Milton regarded and apparently wished to treat them as mischievous rebels, who either had no right 14 LORD MACAULAY. to have any opinions of their own, or at least were highly blamable for daring to express them.^ Macaulay, strange to say, never alludes either in his Essays or subsequent History to Milton's remarkable dispute with the Irish Presbyterians.^ He dwells almost exclusively ^ ' Utterly forgetting to be ministers of the Gospel, they presume to open their mouths not " in the spirit of meek- ness," as like dissemblers they pretend, but with as much devilish malice, impudence, and falsehood as any Irish rebel could have uttered, and from a barbarous nook of Ireland brand us with the extirpation of laws and liberties, things which they seem [to Milton] as little to understand as aught that belong to good letters or humanity. . . . And let them take heed lest while their silence as to these matters might have kept them blameless and secure under those proceedings which they so feared to partake in, that these their treasonous attempts and practices have not involved them in a far worse guilt of rebellion,' &c. — Articles of Peace with Irish Rebels, pp. 194-199. "^ 'They (Irish Presb}i:erians) were among the first to protest against the trial of the king, and to denounce his execu- tion as murder. The Royalists and Episcopalians joined in- deed in this protest upon their favourite maxims of passive obedience and non-resistance, but it ought to be carefully re- membered that the Presbyterians were guided by no such slavish principles. . . . They conceived it to be a monstrous violation of all liberty and law, and a more arbitrary and dangerous exercise of power than any which could be laid to the charge of tlie king, for an armed force to expel with violence out of the House of Commons the majority of its members/ &c. — lleid's Presbi/terian Church in Ireland, vol. ii. ESSAYIST. 15 on the best works of his favourite, his sub- hme poetry, or the fine treatise, the Areopagi- tica. [Probably of all Milton's writings, those referring to Ireland are least known to British readers, yet none reveal his true charact^ and temper so clearly. In his poems, his mind being free from irritation, and uninfluenced by human passions, his grand imagination found expression in beautiful language and noble thoughts, while in the Areopagitica and a few other prose works he tries to convert some men to his views whose opinions he respected. Many readers, Macaulay apparently among them, judging Milton from these works, have been shocked and offended at Dr. Johnson's censure of him. But that shrewd, profound old moralist evidently knew more of Milton's arrogant bitterness than his enthusiastic ad- mirers permitted themselves to do, by care- fully studying those works which chiefly roused his temper and thus revealed his feel- ings. For although far superior to even 16 LORD MACAULAT. Cromwell and all other political partisans in education and refinement of thought, yet in bitterness, intolerance, and even discourtesy towards those he beheved irreconcilable op- ponents, he probably equalled some of the most fanatical soldiers in Cromwell's army.^ But Macaulay throughout his brilliant Essay on Milton was evidently in a state of mental enchantment with his glorious poems. These sublime compositions, when examined by a young man of Macaulay's exquisite literary taste and fervent spirit, effected a complete mental conquest of their student. Pure and just admiration for the poet led to the most enthusiastic and unreasonins^ veneration for the man. Scarcely a word of blame or even disapproval does Macaulay express towards one whose splendid genius apparently overcame his judgment while cap- tivating his imagination. ' * Milton's warmest advocates must allow that lie never spared any asperity of reproach or brutality of insolence.' — Johnson's Life of Milton ; see Milton's Articles of Peace with Irish lii'bels, Defensio Pojndif and Iconoclast, for justification of Johnson's statement. ESSAYIST. 17 In a subsequent edition of his Essays, Macaulay. when older and wiser, owns that this one contained ' scarcely a paragraph of which his matured judgment approved,' yet probably few readers would wish it much altered even while disapproving some of its sentiments. Considering its length, it is per- haps one of the most pleasing and brilliant Essays in the Enghsh language. It is, in fact, the fervent panegyric of a youtliful, enthusi- astic mind upon one whose noble genius in- spired a brilliant eloquence like its own.^ Yet it must surely be admitted by all lovers of truth, that while Macaulay's admiration for Milton as a poet is well deserved, his intense reverence for the man carries him beyond reason, by the force of those political anti- pathies and sympathies which these illus- trious men shared in common. ^ * We image to ourselves the breathless silence in which we should listen to his slightest word, the passionate venera- tion with which we should kneel to kiss his hand and weep upon it, the earnestness with which we should endeavour to console him, if indeed such a spirit could need consolation, &c., p. 57. 18 LORD MACAULAY. At the close of this Essay, Macaulay admires and praises his favourite for the ' deadly hatred he bore to bigots and tyrants.' That Milton's hatred of opponents was indeed ' deadly ' there can be httle doubt in the minds ■ of those acquainted with his prose writings. But surely a hatred to bigots and tyrants is one of those sentiments which all consistent lovers of human liberty should strive to mode- rate and keep within the limits of charity and common sense. For if through enthusiasm, or any mental excitement, people allow their dishke of those they consider bigots and tyrants to become a ' deadly hatred,' they may be easily induced to commit or sanction acts of bigotry and tyranny towards those who have infuriated them beyond all self- control. This was eminently Milton's case. Crom- well's Irish Catholic victims suffered as cruelly as the Italian Protestant martyrs whose mas- | sacre he so pathetically deplored in verse. Yet not a word, apparently not a thought, of ESSAYIST. 19 compassion is shown in his writings towards these or any other conquered rehgious or political opponents. Milton, therefore, may indeed be justly called the earnest, consistent advocate for the liberty of his own partisans, and many people may believe that they were more friendly to human liberty than his opponents were ; but surely not till a man can bring himself to advocate the mental freedom of the most inveterate religious and political foes, has he proved his real adher- ence to the principle of human freedom. And this proof Milton certainly never reveals in his controversial or pohtical works. >^ Macaulay's Essays on Hallam's EngHsh History and Machiavelli's works were written soon after the Essay on Milton, and both in a much less enthusiastic style. In his Essay on the Itahan statesman and writer, Macaulay warmly advocates Italian liberty, and to some extent tries to vindicate Machiavelli, whose deceitful principles were c 2 20 LORD MACAULAT. very generally condemned.^ This Essay, how- ever, though highly interesting, is perhaps less carefully written than the other ; for Macaulay is, in fact, trying throughout to defend one bad man against others of equal duplicity, by intimating that Machiavelli's principles, though odious and detestable, often really actuated those who chiefly blamed him at this period. Yet Machiavelli, despite his extraordinary deceit, was believed to sincerely advocate Italian freedom, and this I supposed patriotism is enough to enlist Ma- caulay 's sympathy for a man whom he terms in many respects utterly worthless, and with- out shame or scruple. Whether Machiavelh and many of his fellow-countrymen were at this time morally degraded through the influence of bad govern- ment alone, may be disputed by politicians, but it was clear enough that such men were little fitted to wield power or to appreciate ^ Shakespeare makes Gloster term him ' the murderous Machiavel.' — Henry VI. ■ ESSAYIST. 21 liberty. Yet Macaulay closes this Essay by rather applauding the popular cry of ' Death to tyrants,' though Machiavelli was well fitted in some respects to be a tyrant himself, and even to be a tyrant's most unscrupulous min- ister. After rather vindicating Machiavelli as being no worse a man than others incurring less censure, Macaulay examines Hallam's ' Constitutional History ' in a more calm and reasoning spirit. As a rule, he shares Hal- lam's political views, and does eloquent jus- tice to his painstaking diligence and learning. Yet Hallam's History, though very instructive and valuable, can hardly be thought interesting to many readers, but Macaulay's able review, blending instruction and interest throughout, drew general attention to its high merit./ Hallam, though a man of profound learning and refined taste — as proved by his last work on European literature — possessing also a remarkably calm judgment, seldom, if ever, renders his style interesting. Even this ex- cellent work, therefore, on a most interesting 22 LORD MACAULAY 1 study, is dry and tedious reading ; a few pages of it are more wearisome than a long Essay by Macaulay on comparatively uninter- esting subjects. He has, however, been called f ' Macaulay 's superior in judgment, though ^ his inferior in graces of style ; ' ^ and usually their opinions on English history are much alike. Their descriptions of the great Eevolution and the Commonwealth reveal a similar spirit ; the one expressed in dry, cautious language, the other in fervent, and often vehement, elo^ mence. They are both thoroughly Whig writers ; the improvements in domestic legisla- tion, the education, and the prosperity of the working classes, the abolition of civil and religious disabilities, and complete religious toleration — are all to them subjects far more interesting and important than the military and naval triumphs, or the foreign conquests of their fellow-countrymen. It might, perhaps, be thought that both * Shaw's Manual of English Literature, ESSAYIST. 23 historians say too little about the military and naval strength of foreign nations, and the con- sequent necessity of maintaining the British armaments in a state of thorough efficiency. But the minds of both Hallam and Macaulay are so devoted to legislation, and social, moral, and educational improvements within the Empire, that they comparatively disregard the paramount importance of its national defences and of encouraging a mihtary spirit in Great Britain, if only for the sake of defending and preserving those blessings of domestic peace and social amelioration which they themselves so justly value. The cause of Charles I. and the principles of Jacobitism, Hallam and Macaulay ahke repudiate. Macaulay scornfully observes in this Essay, respecting the decline of Jacobit- ism, that ' nobody was left to fight for that wretched cause, and very few to drink for it.' There is little enthusiasm in his review of Hallam' s work ; the subject prevents it, and forces even the brilhant and impetuou? young 24 LORD MACAULAY. essayist to be nearly as cautious and cool as . the grave historian himself. Yet though Macaulay's enthusiasm is thus checked, his delightful style always expresses his thoughts, and in his masterly hands even Hallam's dry history becomes attractive to most thoughtful readers./ Dr. Johnson declares that some admirers of Pope's ' Homer ' must be disappointed in the original/ and Macaulay's brilliant sketch of Hallam's history likewise makes it seem far more interesting than the work itself will , , probably be found by many students. Even \ 4 in this Essay on a dry historical work, written j while Macaulay was still very young, he shows i his natural power of making every subject more or less attractive ; whereas Hallam, despite his good sense and vast learning, cannot render even the interesting study of European literature entertaining. Macaulay's natural love of historical inquiry first appears in this Essay, proclaiming tlie future historian, * Life of Pope. ESSAYIST. 25 f who almost for the first time in Eiiorland rendered historical facts as interestin^r if not exciting as fiction, and whose portraits of real personages were as lifelike as if drawn from personal knowledge. He praises Hallam's fairness and research while recommending his history to the pubhc in the warmest terms. But Hallam's work, though most valuable as a book of reference, is not ever likely to be popular. Even the two great Enghsh historians of the last century, Hume and Gibbon, though distrusted by many as anti- Christian, and by no means superior to Hal- lam in either wisdom or learning, have each made their writings more interesting to general readers. According to the high authority of Dean Milman, Macaulay's most important Essays are those on British history — the grand subject \ which through hfe chiefly interested his mind and finally displayed its greatest powers. In his Essay on Mackintosh's ' British Eevolution of 1688,' Macaulay first mentions that most 26 LOED MACAULAY. eventful period to which his future history was devoted. Tliis most remarkable time evidently interested him more deeply and con- stantly than any of the immense variety of subjects which attracted his powerful mind. For in the historical drama of an enlightened nation firmly resisting and finally banishing an arbitrary king by an almost bloodless revolu- tion, at least in England, Macaulay's mind and fancy felt a special delight. To him James II. was like the dangerous villain of an exciting romance, endowed with almost every odious quality, as well as supreme power, surrounded by cruel, unscrupulous satellites, while sternly endeavouring to enslave the minds and bodies of his subjects.^ In this excited description Macaulay, as is sometimes the case with him, tells the truth, ^ 'James was a most bloody and remorseless persecutor. lie had hunted down the scattered remnants of the Covenanters with a barbarity of which no other prince of modern times, Philip II. excepted, had ever shown himself capable. He had indulged himself in the amusement of seeing the torture of the Boot inflicted on the wretched enthusiasts whom per- secution had driven to resistance,' Sec, p. 101. ESSAYIST. 27 but not the whole truth. This punishment was the legal penalty enacted by men long before the days of James II., and it was pro- bably his formal duty to witness its infliction, and whether it gratified him or not can hardly be known, while his feelings made no difference to the sufferers. It should be remembered that most of the leading Covenanters advocated the principles of religious persecution to its fullest extent, and condemned toleration altogether. For it is a historical fact that on the restora- tion of Charles II. he was pubHcly requested by a deputation of Scotch Covenanters not to tolerate either Prelacy or Popery according to the terms of the Covenant. Thus, on the accession of William III. many of the Cove- nanters were driven to rebellion, not by his persecution of themiselves, but by his un- expected toleration of their enemies, upon whom they naturally, perhaps, but scarcely in a Christian spirit, wished to retahate. ( These facts should be remembered, not to extenuate, far less justify, James' cruelty to 28 LORD MACAULAY. them, but to correct the idea that persecution alone drove the Covenanters to rebelhon, when they were themselves bound by the terms of the Solemn League and Covenant to oppose even tolerating? either Eoman Cathohcism or Prelacy. In the review on Mackintosh, Ma- caulay says little of his future great hero, William III., and seems indeed rather reluc- tant to dwell much on the subject of the Eevolution, as if mentally reserving it for a future and more complete examination. He praises Mackintosh's history, and recommends it as well as that of Hallam, perhaps wishing to increase public interest in British history before producing his own great work upon it. In neither of these Essays, however, does he often mention Hume, Burnet, Clarendon, or Eobertson, the four chief authorities on the subject ; he apparently prefers Hallam and Mackintosh to all others, for, generally speak- ing, he shares their political opinions. Yet neither Ids able exposition nor elo- quent praise can render them interesting ESSAYIST. 29 writers. This Macaulay probably perceived when resolving to write British history on similar principles, but in a very different style. In his Essays, Macaulay does not - usually dwell long on historical subjects, though enough to indicate, with eloquent power, those principles which he so fully developed in his final work. He evidently prefers training his active, inquiring spirit while a young man, by studying an immense variety of subjects, and thus prepares his powerful mind for the great work which he long contemplated. The Essay on Lord Bacon is certainly one of the most instructive among them. We have here the highly educated scholar of the nineteenth century minutely examining the great mind and original genius of one who lived in an age unfavourable to their acknow- ledgment, if not to their comprehension, as j Bacon himself proclaimed when in his will he commended his philosophy to the apprecia- tion and study of future generations. In this 30 LORD MACAULAY. Essay, Macaulay shows no religious or politi- cal bias, but devotes his attractive style and brilliant language to explaining and com- mending Bacon's views and philosophy. He observes that his works, except the short Essays, were very Httle read even in modern highly educated England ; their deep and accurate reasoning, their wisdom and value, were alike obscured and made difficult reading by their dry, uninteresting, and what Ma- caulay elsewhere terms their ' odious style.' An eloquent young writer, combining pro- found learning with a brilhant style, Hke Macaulay, was precisely the person required to render Bacon's works both known and pleasing to modern English readers of sense and taste. He perceived the reason of their unpopularity while he himself keenly appre- ciated their value. Without making weari- some extracts, he studied them closely, and "^ then, in his own delightful style and in- structive language, he, as it were, translated their meaning and purport in a manner as ESSAYIST. 31 pleasing to the reading many as to the learned few. He therefore adorns Bacon's wisdom by introducing it to the public with a beauty and an attractiveness which that great man with all his intellectual powers could never command. Thus Bacon's writ- ings, instructive to all, though incomprehen- sible to many, Macaulay rendered clear and ^ interesting to an educated posterity well able to appreciate their hitherto disregarded merit. A long period elapsed between the lives of Bacon and Macaulay ; the former's thoughtful philosophy had slowly but steadily attracted and convinced some learned minds in England and on the Continent. But his harsh style, when devoted to difficult subjects, had always repelled a large number, even among reading men, from their perusal. They now fell into the hands of a writer who possessed a special power of conveying most profound thought , in a peculiarly attractive manner. Macaulay [^ excelled and probably dehghted in rendering learned or difficult subjects interesting to the o 2 LORD MACAULAY. comparatively ignorant, as well as to the well- informed, and perhaps no modern essayist has equalled him in this intellectual exploit. In such an age therefore as the nineteenth cen- tury in Great Britain, when reading is so general, all kinds of books cheap, and when the public are supplied with an immense variety of good and bad, instructive and trifling works, Macaulay's literary powers were especially valuable. He boldly com- peted with even most fascinating and sensa- tional novelists in tempting not merely the learned but the comparatively frivolous and thoughtless to study and admire works of standard merit. His success is most remark- able in this Essay upon Lord Bacon. He here presents in easy attractive language the objects, views, and thoughts of this wise philosopher, rendering them instructive to most readers by the power of his own genius, while even to the learned they surely seem far more acceptable than before. Many persons who would have found a ESSAYIST. few pages of Bacon too difficult for their taste, if not for their comprehension, studied, admired, and understood his thoughts wlien presented by a hterary interpreter so pleas- ing, so well-informed, and so true. In this Essay Macaulay virtually introduces the grand old philosopher of Elizabeth's reign striving to impart his wisdom in quaint, often obscure language, and fettered by a constrained style, to a new world of educated readers, intelh- gent, fastidious, often sarcastic, yet well fitted to appreciate the profound sense and brilliancy of language which are united in Macaulay. Of all his early Essays none were perhaps so practically useful as this. Lord Bacon, unhke his immortal contem- porary, Shakespeare, was unable, despite his wisdom, to make his works both instructive and interesting to people either of his own time or to posterity. This power of rare combination] few literary men have possessed. Thus Lord Bacon and Mr. Hallam resemble each other D \ 34 LORD MACAULAY. in profound wisdom, calm judgment, and ex- tensive learning, yet tliese great men cannot adorn or enhance their vast advantages by eloquence, brilliancy, or any charm of style, for general readers. On the other hand, the poet, the novelist, and the historian, Shake- peare, Walter Scott, and Macaulay, ahke, though in different ways, possessed this power of uniting instruction with pleasure, and have each usually made the noblest use of it.^ In Shakespeare we find the profoundest wisdom and the most accurate knowledc^e of human character, combined with every excellence of which literary genius has ever been capable. In Scott's best works we find history and romance united — the former representing ancient times, manners, and customs as faithfully as the latter portray those feelings and emotions common to all times and ^ ' There can be no doubt that as to the actual life of certain periods Shakespeare and Scott are more trustworthy historians than Hume, or even Clarendon.' — Dean Milman's Memoir of Lord Macaulay, p. 23. ESSAYIST. 35 inseparable from human nature. Macaulay in his Essays and History is compelled to reject fiction altogether, while devoting him- , self to inspire historical events and characters I with that keen interest and peculiar attrac-| tion with, which fiction is often alone asso- ciated. In former times, when historical events tand characters were studied merely by a thoughtful few and comparatively neglected by a large majority of even sensible men, Macaulay's writings would have been far less useful to the pubhc. They were thoroughly adapted to the time at which they appeared, since they inclined all intelhgent British , readers to study subjects full of interest and \ n/ value to everyone, yet too often confined to the attention of a small, serious, and reflecting minority. He earnestly praises Lord Bacon's mingled ' audacity and sobriety ' which en- abled him to introduce a new philosophy without vehemently attacking former systems D 2 \ 86 ' LORD MACAULAY. A or offending public opinion by ridicule or bitterness.^ But Macaulay himself well merits praise for his mingled audacity and sobriety, or rather mingled enthusiasm and calm judg- ment, even in this single Essay, his object being evidently to improve as well as en- courage the literary taste of his time. Some men possessing his knowledge and profound erudition would have been tempted to write bitterly upon the frivolity of modern taste, and the superficial style of many popular authors ; or would have tried, by learned, weighty, and probably dull arguments, to commend works they approved, by condemn- ing others. Yet had he adopted this course he would have found comparatively few readers. He might have made many true ^ ' Bacon liad no touch of that disputatious temper he often censured in his predecessors. He effected a vast intellectual revolution in opposition to a vast mass of prejudices, yet he never engaged in any controversy. His philosophy, as he said, came as a guest, not as a conqueror.' — Essay, p. 26G. ESSAYIST. 37 U remarks, but they would have only gratified those who were already agreed with him. The reading public required pleasure as well as instruction, and Macaulay furnished \ them both. Few scholars, indeed, would have contemplated adorning Bacon's profound works with the charm of eloquence, the fire of enthusiasm, and the richness of imagery, with all of which this Essay abounds ; probably the grave philosopher himself would have been surprised to recognise the lessons of his calm wisdom explained and praised with all the combined beauty and power of the English language, but Macaulay's purpose was evident. His keen observation perceived the immense increase of Hterature and of literary men in his time. He perceived the numerous efforts, whether rewarded by success or crushed by failure, of eminent novehsts and romance writers to attract the vast multitude of British readers. He also knew how many excellent English works were comparatively neglected, )(( chiefly owing to their deficiency, not in worth, 38 LORD MACAULAY. but in interest, the latter being often the chief merit of many popular works. He perceived with regret how many standard works — Bacon's among others — w^ere really unfitted by their harsh, if not obsolete style to interest some readers who might otherwise enjoy and appreciate them. It seemed, therefore, to his discerning mind an unjust fate for Bacon's works to be written at a time Avhen there were few readers of any description, and to remain comparatively unknown during times of general enlightenment. Macaulay, however, apparently understood the taste of his own period as accurately as he did the wisdom of a former one. His Essay on Bacon was precisely suited to modern tastes, feelings, and knowledge. Thus he not only gratified learned and studious readers, but attracted many others, whom the subject, but for his rendering, would have rather repelled ; for Macaulay may fairly be said to V rival most novelists and sensational writers by the delightful charm of his style alone. In ESSAYIST. 39 his pages deep interest and important infor- mation are blended with such rare taste and judgment, that his admirers, like those of Shakespeare, Scott, and Dickens, were found among classes and individuals having httle in common with each otlier. Yet these three great writers all relied more or less on their own imaginations as well as on those of their readers for their wonderful success. But Ma- caulay rehed upon his extraordinary memory, his immense learning, and literary taste. ^ Like Bacon, whose powerful mind pre- ferred the wonders of reality to those of fancy, Macaulay dehghted in adorning practical wisdom with a beauty and brilliancy of language usually devoted to works of imagina- tion.^ In this feehng Macaulay probably ^ ' His memory seemfid to expand with its accumulating treasures. . . . He has said, and ha was a most unboastful man, that if Milton's great poem were lost, he thought he could accurately commit to writing at least all the first part of Paradise Lost.^ — Milman's Memoir of Lord Macaulay/, p. 14. ^ ' Bacon knew that all the secrets feigned by poets to have been written in the books of enchanters are worthless when compared with the mighty secrets which are written in the 40 LORD MACAULAY. shared Milton's sentiment describing Divine philosophy as often thought repulsive or un- interesting, yet which ought to delight as well as improve the human mind.^ Yet it must be owned that many people besides ' dull fools ' probably found the style of Bacon somewhat ' harsh and crabbed.' Ma- caulay well knew this, and instead of censur< ing or ridiculing those readers who were comparatively deficient in learning, judgment, or good taste, took a surer way to arouse fresh interest in Bacon's works by explaining V them in language as clear and easy as it was eloquent and profound. Bacon's writings were thus, in fact, modernised, explained, and placed in their proper position before enhght- book of nature, and which with time and patience will be read there. He knew that all the wonders wrought by all the talismans in fable were trifles when compared to the wonders wliich miglit reasonably be expected from the philosophy of fruit.'— r. 204. ^ * ITow charming is Divine philosophy ! Not harsh or crabbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute. And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets Where no crude surfeit reigns.' — Comus. ESSAYIST. 41 ened readers of the nineteentli century, many of whom hardly knew previously how much they and all other civihsed, mtellectual people, especially in Great Britain, owed to his original mind and practical philosophy. In this Essay, and in many others, Macau- lay expresses no religious or political opinions. , Thus all readers can study it with pleasure and w^ithout the least distrust or vexation. Although his pohtical views have been greatly admired and trusted by many, it is probable that those Essays which are free from politics are the most valuable to general readers. For it is in these alone we find ' his serene intellect,' comparatively, ' devoid of enthu- siasm,' like his own description of Lord Halifax.^ He displays all the treasures of his vast mind, rare memory, and refined taste, without any mental irritation, whether of triumph or depression, without either vehement praise or strong censure. He thus rather resembles Lord Lytton's model physician, a ^ History of England, 42 LORD MACAULAY. ' Calm Intelligence,' certainly of the highest order and superior to those passionate emo- tions which often and perhaps unconsciously affect and weaken his great mind.^ Macaulay also shows this mingled calm- ness and acute penetration very remarkably m his Essay on Eanke's ' History of the Popes ' — perhaps the most instructive of all his Essays except those on Lord Bacon and on history. In this so-called review, however, he says little about Eanke's work, though that little is favourable, and makes no quotations from it. He is now engaged on a subject which indeed elicits his varied knowledge, retentive memory, and natural brilhancy of expression with clearness of thought. Macaulay is unlike most writers on re- ligious history, which usually involves con- troversy ; it interests him extremely, without ^ ' To the true pli jsiciau there is an inexpressible sanctity in the sick chamber. At its threshold the more human passions quit their hold on his heart. He must enter that room — a Calm lutellifjeuce. He is disabled for his mission if he suffer aught to obscure the keen quiet glance of his science.' — Strange Storg, chap. x. ESSAYIST. 43 irritating his temper, or even much exciting his feehns^s. He therefore writes about it in a much more cool, pliiiosophic spirit, than he is, perhaps, able to do when dealing with political history — his favourite subject above all others. Accordingly, this Essay, which is simply a brief, yet most instructive sketch of Eoman Catholic history, is surprisingly free both from prejudice or enthusiasm, feelings which in Macaulay's mind are so often united . In describing the amazing vitality of Eoman Catholicism amid constant dangers, he intro- duces the Enghsh Eeformation and the French Eevolution of the last century, which last event estabhshed avowed Atheism in pohtical power for the first time since the rise of Chris- tianity. The rapid success of Protestantism in Europe, and the yet more rapid but tran- sitory triumph of Atheism in France, he de- scribes with great eloquence aided by vast research, yet without apparent enthusiasm for or against any particular rehgious belief. He eloquently describes the practical result of 44 LORD MACAULAY. the Eoman Catholic system, without bitterness or showing any preference for its principles.^ The contests between Eoman Catholicism and its chief opponents, Protestantism, Deism, and Atheism, he describes graphically indeed, but with perfect calmness, while the previous dis- pute between the Latin and Greek Churches he scarcely mentions. He dwells much on the remarkable vitality of Eoman Catholicism, without, however, mentioning the yet greater antiquity and equally remarkable vitality of Judaism, surviving the cruel effects of politi- ^ * The Roman Catholic Church thoroughly understands what no other Church has ever understood : how to deal with enthusiasts. She neither submits to enthusiasm nor proscribes it, but uses it. . . . She knows that when religious feelings have obtained the complete empire of the mind, they impart a strange energy ; that they raise men above the domain of pain and pleasure ; that obloquy becomes glory ; that death itself is contemplated only as the beginning of a higher and happier life. She knows a person in this state is no object of con- tempt. She accordingly enlists him in her service ; assigns to him some forlorn hope in which intrepidity and impetuosity are more wanted than judgment and self-command, and sends him forth with her benediction and her applause. . . . The ignorant enthusiast whom the Anglican Church makes an enemy — and whatever the polite and learned may think, a most dangerous enemy — the Roman Catholic Church makes a champion.'— Pp. 568-970. ESSAYIST. 45 cal and religious persecution, from Pagans, Christians, and Mahommedans throughout, the semi-civiUsed world. Nor does he allude to the Greek, Armenian, or African Chris- tians, who claim equal antiquity with those of Eome. Macaulay expresses great surprise at the power of endurance in Eoman Catholicism when assailed by many foes in countries where it was oDce supreme ; but it should be remembered that in its chief European strong- holds, Spain and Italy, though occasionally menaced by the invasions of French infidel soldiers and doctrines, it has never been seriously assailed except by these unpopular strangers. The French revolution of the last century, when attacking Eoman Catholicism, denounced all other religious systems equally, declaring and rendering public worship false and punishable by law. The re- establishment of Christianity in France, its political triumph over avowed Atheism, and the remarkable and somewhat sudden cessation in Protestant 46 LORD MACAULAY. progress in some countries, are events all carefully noticed by Macaulay without his manifesting either exultation or disappoint- ment. He evidently thinks in this Essay that Protestantism is at a standstill throughout the Continent, and that the real contention there lies between Eoman Catholics, Deists, and Atheists. But this Essay refers only to the Latin Church and its descendants. Macaulay does not mention the Christian millions in Turkey, Eussia, Greece, or Africa. During the long and most disgracefully bitter contests between the Eoman Catholic Church and her revolted children, as she terms all Protestants, as well as during the almost equally violent contests among Protestants themselves, especially in Great Britain, the Eastern Christian Churches, though politically oppressed everywhere, ex- cept in Eussia, remained comparatively free from internal dissension. No mutual hostility, despite their doctrinal ESSAYIST. 47 differences,^ actuated the African, Armenian, or Greek Christians against each other. This may perhaps be partly explained by the com- parative absence of that intolerant, persecut- ing spirit, so often displayed alike by Roman Cathohcs and Protestants when in political power.'^ Macaulay in this Essay attributes much of the success of Voltaire and other infidel writers to the disgust excited generally ^ ' The Greek (or Russian) Church is more ceremonial than the Latin, "but the Coptic (Egyptian) is more ceremonial than the Greek.' — Dean Stanley's Eastern Church, Lecture I. ^ * If Eastern Christians have abdicated the glory of missionaries, they are exempt from the curse of proselytism, and they have (with some mournful examples to the contrary) heen free from the still darker curse of persecution. A respectful reverence for every manifestation of religious feeling has withheld them from violent attacks on the rights of conscience, and led them to extend a kindly patronage to forms of faith most removed from their own. The gentle spirit of the Greek Fathers has granted to the heroes and sages of heathen antiquity a place in the Divine favour which was long denied in the West. Along the porticoes of Eastern churches are to be seen portrayed on the walls the figures of Homer, Solon, Thucydides, Pythagoras, and Plato, as pioneers preparing the way for Christianity. ... In Russia, where the power and the will to persecute exist more strongly, though proselytism is forbidden, yet the worship not only of their own dissenters, but of Latins and Protestants, is protected as sacred.' — Stanley's Eastern Church, Lecture I. 48 LORD MACAULAY. by religious bigotry, which in his time influ- enced both Eoman Cathohcs and Protestants, when enjoying pohtical authority. Thus Macaulay says that ' irrehgion accidentally associated with philanthropy triumphed for a time over rehgion accidentally associated with political and social abuses.' For Vol- taire, while safe at Geneva, attacked with bitter sarcasm nearly all forms of Christianity, artfully insinuating that they equally en- couraged or sanctioned intolerance, while Atheism was really the only friend to per- secuted human reason. And in his lifetime appearances to some extent confirmed this view.^ It was not till after Voltaire's death ^ Macaulay observes (p. 976) — ' It is due to Voltaire and his compeers to say tliat the real secret of their strength lay in the truth which was mingled with their errors, and in the generous enthusiasm which was hidden under their flippancy. While they assailed Christianity with a rancour and an unfairness disgraceful to men who called themselves philosophers, they yet had in far greater measure than their opponents that charity towards men of all classes and races which Christianity enjoins. . . . The really efficient weapons with which the philosophers assailed the evangelical faith were borrowed from the evangelical morality. The ethical and dogmatical parts of the gospel were unhappily turned ajjainst each other.' ESSAYIST. 49 that men professing his opinions and almost deifying his memory obtained supreme power in France. Now was the time to prove whether Athe- ism and tolerance were really such firm alhes, for before this period avowed Atheism was only proclaimed in a few books, condemned and denounced by every political government and religious denomination. But the policy of Atheism in power was precisely what the most sincerely rehgious might have predicted. An infidel government not only repudiated all religious behef, but persecuted it with violence and cruelty. The doctrines of Voltaire were apparently supreme, but his humane spirit had totally vanished. He probably would have been amazed and horrified had he lived to see his theories professed by men who violated human liberty of thought with the same cruelty which he had denounced with such keen eloquence all his life. As Macaulay observes, ' to merely show reverence for reli- E 50 LORD MACAULAY. gion was to incur the suspicion of disaffection,' under the infidel French repubhc. Many priests were executed without trial, and thou- sands of others ' fled from France to take sanctuary under the shade of hostile altars.' But the savage triumph of Atheism in power hastened its own destruction, at least in a political sense. Napoleon, who suppressed the infidel republic, was an avowed Eoman Cath- olic, and though hostile to the Pope for poli- tical reasons, had no desire to encourage Atheism in any country. After his overthrow, Latin Christianity in pacified Europe was situated nominally and geographically much the same as before the French revolution. In Spain, Italy, and Southern Germany, | Eoman Cathohcism revived when free from French infidel invaders. In France the re- I stored royal family formally re-established Roman Catholicism, wliich indeed was always professed by Napoleon, though his treatment of the Pope had greatly irritated the ESSAYIST. 51 Eomaii Catholic clergy against him through- out Europe. At this period Macaulay closes his Essay, alludmg forcibly, however, to the Roman Catholic revival in the present century, and remarking that it has been more successfully opposed latterly by infidelity than by any form of Protestantism. An earnest Protes- tant and an eminent Eoman Cathohc writer, Mr. Froude and Cardinal Newman, who have both survived Macaulay, mention the conflict between Roman Catholicism and Atheism ; the former writes in alarm about the dechne of Protestantism,^ while Newman writes apprehensively about the strength of modern infidelity when opposed to all Christian denominations.^ It is remarkable that Deism is seldom mentioned by Macaulay, Froude, or Newman. This form of faith, however, was apparently ^ Short Studies on Great Subjects. - ' Intidelity itself is, I am obliged to say, in a more hopeful position as regards Christianity . . . the assailants of dogmatic truth have got the start of its adherents of whatever creed.' — Development of Christian Doctrine, p. 28. E 2 52 . LOED MACAULAY. adopted by Hume, Gibbon, and many other enlightened men during the last century and the present. Macaulay in this Essay ex- pressly declines examining the rehgious opinions of his own times. He dreads exciting ' angry feelings ' by doing so. Yet some readers will probably regret his objec- tion ; for Macaulay, in describing religious controversy, shows a calmness of judgment which, united to immense knowledge, would have made his opinions extremely valuable. He never shows that sneering, sarcastic spirit which animates Voltaire, Hume, Gibbon, and most other assailants of Christianity, and is completely free from the intense prejudices or vehement irritation which often distinguish the defenders of an assailed faith. In short, we have Macaulay's vast learning, penetra- tion, and eloquent style in detaihng religious history without that excited enthusiasm and eager vehemence which his warmest admirers must own too often induce him to write un- fairly in political narration. ESSAYIST. 53 His Essay on Eanke's work is indeed wonderfully instructive for its limits. Volumes might have been written upon the same sub- ject without containing an equal amount of learning and varied information. In this Essay, also, there occurs that striking idea which of all Macaulay's speculative thoughts has perhaps most attracted pubhc attention — the future possibihty, if not hkelihood, of ' some traveller from New Zealand in the midst of a vast soHtude sketching the ruins of St. Paul's from a broken arch of London Bridge.' To Macaulay's historical mind and vivid imagination, this idea, though wild and fanciful, would not seem altogether absurd ; to a scholar so versed in the histories, even details, of the decline of former empires, the future ruin of one, flourishing around him, would only accord with those lessons of the past on which his mind loved to dwell. Though few men knew the modern world better, as it existed round him in its social, moral, and political aspects, yet the past was | 54 LORD MACAULAY seldom absent from his reflecting mind. Thus his classic taste and strong common sense united, always represented former men and times as natural' and real as if he had known them personally.^ Like Shakespeare, he could contemplate, perhaps even realise, the dissolu- tion of flourishing, powerful empires, as calmly as the great poet imagines that of the world itself.^ In this Essay Macaulay briefly surveys the religious history of many European countries, and by frequent allusions to ancient, media3val, and modern times, displays an amount of knowledge, expressed in such easy and delight- ful language, that even dull or frivolous readers are attracted by its style, while the * * His thoughts were often for weeks together more in Latium and Attica than in Middlesex, to him Oicero was as real as Sir Robert Peel.' — Trevelyan's Life of Mncaulay, vol ii. chap. xiv. ^ The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wrack behind. — T]ie Tempest, ESSAYIST. 55 studious and profound would surely appre- ciate its intrinsic value. Although so high an authority as Dean Milman does not consider Macaulay's Essays on Addison and Johnson equal to those on Bacon and Eanke's History, they are not only admirable in themselves but mpst useful, es- pecially to English readers. ^With Addison, Macaulay has much in common. They were | both men of Liberal opinions and great lite- / rary taste. Each highly admired classic writ- ings while they thoroughly appreciated modern civilisation with all its attendant blessings of justice and religious toleration. Both also knew how to blend instruction with-fc amusement, for Addison's writings in the ' Spectator,' Macaulay declares, were as popular as the works of Scott or Dickens, considerinor the scarcity of readers in the last century compared to the present. He compares Addison's harmless wit and humour with those of his eminent contemporaries. Dean Swift and Voltaire. The gloomy bitterness 56 LORD MACAULAY. of the former, and the constant mockery and sarcasm of the latter, please Macaulay's dis- cerning mind less than the mingled wit, shrewdness, piety, and thorough conscien- tiousness which so distinguish Addison's w^rit- ings and character. Macaulay, however, probably praises him too far in saying that, except Shakespeare and Cervantes, no one has drawn more vivid, hfehke portraits of human character ; for surely Walter Scott, Miss Austen, and other writers, have excelled him in this respect, and Macaulay himself, in his Essay on Miss Burney (Madame D'Arblay), actually names Miss Austen as next to Shake- speare in correctly and minutely delineating imaginary characters. But Macaulay is probably more just in praising the constant aim of Addison to im- prove all he knew, and did not know, by his consistent conduct, and the moral excellence of his writings. The power of ridicule Addi- son possessed in boundless measure, as Macau- lay observes, but instead of abusing it as Swift ESSAYIST. • 57 and Voltaire each did in their different ways, Addison devoted this talent to the best of purposes. Living at a time when legal abuses and religious intolerance, though diminishing, were still prevalent, and without many advantages which his posterity possess, Addison's ideas, feelings, and wishes are yet worthy of the present age. His ' Eeflec- tions in Westminster Abbey,' as well as his whole history of Sir Eoger de Coverley, reveal the same spirit of conscientious wisdom, and a mind alike free from scepticism or super- stition. To these writings Macaulay draws special attention, and concludes with remarks on Addison's death, which so worthily closed an exemplary and useful life. Yet though Macaulay greatly admires and appreciates Addison, he appears even more interested in his hterary successor. Dr. John- son. Both in his Essays and Miscellaneous Writings he examines Johnson's life and works with great attention, and at considerable length. To Boswell's celebrated biography 58 LORD MACAULAY. he gives the highest praise, while sharply noticing the biographer's many weaknesses and oddities. But in Dr. Johnson Macaulay cannot but recof^nise a man of ' vicrorous and acute' mind. Even when ' provokingly un just ' he ' well deserves to be studied.' The ' Lives of the Poets ' Macaulay prefers of all his works, declaring that they are as interest- ing as any novel. He sympathises with John- son in admiring the classic writers, and in his desire to elevate English literary taste. His high spirit, firmness, and generosity Macau- lay fully acknowledges, though he apparently prefers the more mild and gentle disposi- tion of Addison. (In political and historical opinions, however, Johnson and Macaulay are much opposed, and by Johnson's ' provoking injustice ' Macaulay probably means his ' Life of Milton,' against which the ' hounds of Whig- gism ' rushed in fidl cry.^ Li literary re- search, toil, and interest, however, Macaulay certainly resembled liim, for both eminently ^ Ounningliam's Preface to Johnson's Lives of the Poets. ESSAYIST. 59 succeeded in rendering their works, even on grave subjects, interesting as well as instruc- >( tive. Macaulay, perhaps, hardly does justice to Johnson's edition of Shakespeare. The ad- mirable preface, he admits, contains some good passages, yet considers it not in his best style. When Johnson undertook this labour, he found the great poet strangely undervalued even by those calhng themselves his admirers. Like his prose contemporary Bacon, Shake- speare was far from being appreciated, even in his own country, till many generations had passed away. He was apparently more ad- mired in the reigns of James I. and his son Charles, than for many subsequent years ; the Puritans and Independents in Cromwell's time generally condemning and disliking him. This disapproval of Shakespeare was probably not confined to merely the ignorant and fana- tical. Walter Scott describes in ' Woodstock ' an Independent soldier vehemently abusing Shakespeare in language both amusing and 60 LORD MACAULAY. ridiculous.^ He also makes his republican hero, Colonel Everard, a man of excellent character, judgment, and education, blame Shakespeare in language which Avould surely be thought unjust at the present day.^ Mil- ton certainly appreciated his grand genius — ' Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child ; ' ^ but probably few of his religious or political parti- sans agreed with him. When Johnson, however, took Shakespeare in hand he found he had not only to explain, but ' to defend ' ^ the author. Subsequent history has proved that the chief defence required was that his works should be known to people who were free from reli- gious and political prejudices. Although Macaulay calls Johnson's edition ^ ' Here is tbe King and High Priest of vices and follies. On thee, William Shakespeare, I charge whateer of vices, lawless idleness, and immodest folly hath defiled the land since thy day. Away with him, men of England, to Tophet, with his accursed hook,' &;c., Sec, chap. iii. ''^ ' I cannot think these tine poems are an useful study, especially for the youth of either sex, in which bloodshed is pointed out as the chief occupation of the men and intrigue as the sole employment of the women.' — Chap. xxv. ^ Allegi'o, "^ Johnson s Preface to Shakespeare. ESSAYIST. 61 of Shakespeare ' slovenly and worthless,' it probably had the useful effect at least of directing fresh attention to England's greatest writer, at a time when his works were but slowly rising in public estimation after a long period of neglect and misconstruction. John- , son and Macaulay, therefore, were alike nobly employed, trying in the eighteenth and nine- \ teenth centuries to revive general interest in / the undervalued masterpieces of England's greatest writers. Bacon and Shakespeare. Yet Macaulay in his works seldom makes quotations from Shakespeare, while admitting his ' supreme and universal excellence,' and that ' he has had neither equal nor second.' ^ Of Johnson's 'Lives of the Poets,' Macaulay prefers those of Cowley, Dryden, and Pope. Those of Milton and Addison he scarcely mentions ; of the former he doubtless dis- approved, and was probably dissatisfied with the latter, for certainly Johnson hardly does the excellent moralist justice. Yet ^ Essa^/s on MitforcTs Greece, and on Madame D'Ai'hlay. 62 LORD MACAULAY. while approving Johnson's ' Life of Dryden,' Macaulay also wrote an Essay upon him as well as upon Addison, which may be com- pared with those of Johnson. Dryden's ener- getic, spirited style, and Addison's calm good sense, evidently pleased each of their literary critics ; but of the two comparatively modern essayists Macaulay certainly possessed and .showed far more learning and variety of knowledge. This superiority may be well explained by remembering Macaulay's vast hterary advantages over Johnson in the different times in which they lived. For between the lives of these great writers, the progress of literature and general knowledge had been vast indeed, almost sufficiently so, perhaps, to gratify the calm, yet daring, ambition of Bacon himself. Johnson, on the whole, ad- mires Dryden more than Macaulay does; he warmly praises his translation of Virgil, to which the latter makes rather scornful allu- sion. Johnson examines Dryden's writings in ESSAYIST. 63 a critical yet friendly spirit ; Macaulay cannot resist comparing him to liis disadvantage with his favourite, Milton. Johnson's criticisms were written more for the learned few than for the reading many, Macaulay 's would suit both classes almost equally. In Johnson's time, Dryden's and Addison's classic know- ledge was comparatively rare and valuable ; in Macaulay 's day both were surpassed in classic acquirements by many who yet were much their inferiors in natural genius and refinement. While Johnson, with his usual shrewd intelligence, examines Addison's and Dryden's thoughts and words with close, somewhat exclusive, attention, Macaulay varies these same subjects by learned, yet interesting, allusions to modern as well as to classic literature. All Johnson's literary knowledge Macau- lay evidently possessed, mth vast additions which the former had never the means of acquiring. Johnson often compares Addison and Dryden to other British poets and writers. 64 LORD MACAULAY. to Pope especially, while Macaulay introduces Italian and Spanish authors also, for com- parison or illustration. Johnson's ' Lives ' were eagerly studied by comparatively few readers, more inchned to admire than to criti- cise severely ; indeed it was by the special request of some writers of his own time that Johnson, in advanced years, undertook this work, his last and best. Macaulay from his own inclination wrote for a world of critics, njimerous, fastidious, and enlightened. John- son would have gratified English readers chiefly, if not solely ; Macaulay might fairly hope to interest all educated foreigners also, for in knowledge and appreciation of French and Italian writers he far surpassed Johnson. The latter is content to compare Addison and Dryden to other English poets, with most of whom his studious mind was familiar ; Macaulay, besides knowing them as well as Johnson did, ranges over educated Europe for purposes of illustration and comparison. Thus he has Johnson's foundation of classic ESSAYIST. 65 learning and knowledge of the best En2:lish works of and before his day, in addition to a vast amount of foreign, American, and com- paratively modern English literature. Tliis superiority of information Macaulay owes, indeed, partly to his enlightened times, so infinitely more favourable to a young literary man than Johnson's period, but also to his rare ability and judgment, enabling him to iitihse every advantage. While, therefore, Johnson's Essays on Addison and Dry den are rather longer, more laboured, and in some respects more pro- found, Macaulay 's are not only more interest- ing, but are on the wliole more instructive. He is indeed far more excursive than Johnson, who dwells steadily upon his subjecit, enrich- ing it with his own wise remarks and apt allusions to other writers ; whereas Macaulay takes a literary voyage of discovery through- out all ages and countries, never forgetting his primary object of enlightening and amusing his readers at the same time. F 66 LOBD MACAULAY. In his Essays on tlie Comic Dramatists of the Eestoration, and on Lord Byron, Ma- caulay proves how thoroughly he appre- ciated the talents of all these different writers, and yet how keenly he detested both their | gross immorality and refined licentiousness. He shows all that scrupulous purity of mind which some Puritan zealots of former times thought incompatible with love for the fine arts, and an admiration for beauty of language and style which some grave person- ages have often associated with depraved or frivolous thoughts. In the case of Byron Macaulay recognises a man of education and talent, whose career might, to some extent, have justified those anti-literary fanatics who contemned nearly all literature, poetry espe- cially, as likely to allure men's minds from the study of that one Book which in their estimation, like the Koran in that of the Caliph Omar, contained all that mankind should know. Macaulay remarks that Byron showed ESSAYIST 67 little knowledge of character in his descrip- tions, — ' he had only two in all his works, and even these he could not exhibit drama- tically.' ^ Yet he proved decisively how well he knew the taste of the lining world of readers, for Macaulay owns that ' the interest which he excited during his life is without a parallel in hterary history.' It is very remarkable that a man who so well understood other people's fancies and inclinations, and gratified them so successfully, should not have shown in his imaginary personages that knowledge of human nature which he evidently possessed. Yet it is surely fortunate that he did not show in his writings any such knowledge, for he probably would not have used it for any useful purpose, like Shakespeare, Addison, Scott, and Dickens. ^ ' Lord Byron could exhibit only one man and one v/oman — a man proud, moody, cynical, with despair on his brow, and misery in his heart, a scorner of his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection ; a woman all softness and gentleness, loving to caress and be caressed, but capable of being transformed by passion into a tigress.' — P. 341. r 2 68 LOED MACAULAY. In different ways, and during different periods, these popular writers alike succeeded in making fictitious literature the firm yet at- tractive ally of virtuous thoughts and aspir- ations, instead of degrading it into their in- * sidious enemy. But Lord Byron, either from utter indifference in this respect, or from gloomy misanthropy, did little moral good to any of his admirers, who, Macaulay observes with keen severity, ' drew from his poetry a system of ethics compounded of misanthropy i and voluptuousness, a system in which the two great commandments were to hate your neighbour and to love your neighbour's « wife.' In the Essay on the Comic Dramatists, Macaulay, while strongly condemning the works of Wycherley, Congreve, &c., ap- parently thinks they never attracted the public mind and taste like those of Byron. For none possessed the same brilliancy of style or deptJi of thought. Yet probably Byron's ideas, expressed in elegant, refined ESSAYIST. 69 poetry, did more harm to young minds than the coarser language of sucli writers as Wycherley, &c. The eminent statesman, orator, and philosopher, Edmund Burke, in- deed sa3^s ^ that ' vice loses half its evil by losing all its grossness.' This assertion may perhaps be questioned, for surely the more gross or repulsive vice appears, the less attrac- tive, and therefore the less dano'erous, it will be to w^eak persons. To some people, Byron's polished refine- ment made the same vicious thoughts and principles comparatively alluring ; which the equally depraved but coarser style of Wy- cherley and Congreve would have rendered odious and repulsive. When evil ideas or bad principles are adorned with every charm of expression with which perverted human genius can invest them, they surely become more generally dangerous, omng to those very beauties or excellences of style and language which should convey elevation and ^ Essay on the French Revolution. 70 LOED MACAULAY. purity of thought. In every remark on Byron, Macaulay shows the keenest appre- ciation of all that is admirable in him as a poet, while he evidently regrets, like a true philanthropist, that he cared nothing to improve the minds and characters of his admirers either by example or precept. In his Essay on Warren Hastings, Macau- lay gives a brief yet powerful sketch of Edmund Burke. Although Burke differed so / much from him in politics, yet they possessed * in common an energy, eloquence, and intense earnestness which, had they been contem- poraries, would probably have brought them together either in firm alliance or vehement opposition. A similar zeal for the public I good, general benevolence, and hatred of all ' falsehood and cruelty, are revealed in the writings and speeches of each. Yet Macaulay, though he often mentions Burke, has no I separate Essay on him, wliile he probably studied his works more attentively than the novels of Miss Burney, about whom he writes ESSAYIST. 71 at some length. After praising her best novel, ' Evelina,' Macaulay probably surprises many readers by comparing Miss Austen's homely, sensible novels with the great works of Shakespeare. He behoves that in keen |k and careful discrimination between imaginary characters, which resemble, yet differ from each other, Miss Austen approached ' nearest to the manner of the great master.' Though Macaulay may prove this to some extent, he yet owns that all Miss Austen's characters are ' commonplace,' whereas many of Shakespeare's creations are both above and below that designation in its moral, social, and intellectual sense. If, therefore, a novehst could be found who discriminates as accurately between characters which are not commonplace, as between those which are, describing all with equal truth to hfe and nature, such a writer would probably resemble Shakespeare more than Miss Austen did, even on Macaulay's own principles. Such a writer is surely his own illustrious '2 LORD MACAULAY. countryman Sir Walter Scott. In his best works there are numerous ' commonplace ' characters, but associated and contrasted, as in Shakespeare, with others totally different, and by comparison with whom they are so considered. Miss Austen describes this class of persons only, whereas Shakespeare and Scott describe them with the same ease as they do others whom Miss Austen never intro- duces. Yet Macaulay may be said to praise even Shakespeare's knowledge of character too highly when declaring he had neither equal nor second. Without depreciating his supreme merit, his warmest admirers may surely allow that Scott closely approaches him in the most profound knowledge of human nature ever imparted to one man's mind by the universal Creator. It seems clear from Macaulay 's singular comparison of Miss Austen to Shakespeare, as well as from his own admissions,^ that he rather undervalued Walter Scott, and was by ^ Trevelyan's Life of Macaulay, ESSAYIST. 73 no means very familiar with his works. In Scott's ' Antiquary,' 'Kob Eoy,' ' Abbot,' &c., we find some commonplace or ordinary persons, ' such as we meet every day ' as Macaulay says, mingled either with historical or rare and exceptional characters. Such people, for instance, as Andrew Fair service, the Muckle- backits, &c., are probably as common in Scotland as ever, but they are involved and contrasted with others of a totally dif- ferent kind. So with Shakespeare, we find ordinary and comic characters mingled with heroes and villains, yet all natural and true to life. Whether Miss Austen could have even shghtly resembled Shakespeare in this respect will never be known, for she never described any save commonplace characters, and assur- edly made no failure in their most accurate delineation. Although Macaulay 's most interesting Essays chiefly refer to English literature, his eminent friend, Dean Milman, more admires those on Barere and Mirabeau, in which he 74 LORD MACAULAY. considers 'Macaulay's judgment on the acts and men of the French Kevolution are very striking.' ^ Yet even his genius cannot render that dreadful period an attractive subject, and it has been rather avoided apparently by modern poets and novelists, despite the inter- esting characters, stirring incidents, and most important events connected with it. Both Lord Lytton and Charles Dickens, however, attempted sketches of that time,^ the former introducing Eobespierre occasion- ally, but evidently preferring to describe his own imaginary characters, for unlike Scott he apparently feels less interest in historical than fictitious personages by showing far less power in their description. Dickens's striking and pathetic story mentions no real characters of importance, and the most amiable and inter- esting persons in this story are English people. Macaulay, however, in these two Essays, shows perhaps less interest than might have ' Memoir of Lord Macaulay. * Zanoni and Talc of Ttvo Cities. ESSAYIST. 75 been expected in the question, whether a monarchy or a repnbhc is best suited to the French nation. He neither denounces the Eevoiution hke Burke, nor does he show much enthusiasm for hberty in France. He apparently has httle sympathy with any of the rival French parties, monarchist, Bona- partist, or republican — probably the most moderate of the last named had his pre- ference. His long description of Barere's extraordinary success in obtaining power under each political faction in turn, seems incredible were the narration not confirmed by history. The sketch of the celebrated republican, Mirabeau, is much shorter, though Macaulay" takes more interest in him ; yet despite his great energy, talents, and occasionally good intentions, Macaulay has little esteem for either his public or private character. Dean Milman says that Macaulay's most important Essays are those referring to British history. This subject, from his first youthful Essay to 76 LORD MACAULAY. the last volume he wrote, evidently roused and interested him more than any other. He reverts to it rather remarkably in an ima- ginary conversation between the poets Cowley and Milton, during which the execution of Charles I. is discussed with great animation from the Eoyalist and Eepublican points of view. Milton always possesses a fascination for Macaulay ; but it is the sublime poet, the ardent advocate of liberty, not the im- placable republican that Macaulay so deeply venerates. Accordingly in this discussion Macaulay imbues Milton not only with his own political sentiments, but also with his j own considerate feelings. Macaulay 's Milton is in fact what the author of ' Paradise Lost ' should have been consistently with the spirit of tliat immortal poem. It is ^ surely both interesting and instructive, how- ever, to compare Milton's real words with those so generously attributed to him by his enthusiastic admirer of the nineteenth cen- ESSAYIST. 77 tiiry.^ From this comparison it seems clear how different are the sentiments of a real lover of freedom living in England during a peaceful time, and those of a man who, though professing similar views, was apparently ex- cited and irritated beyond all bounds of Christian charity by the furious passions of his distracted period. ^ Macaiilay makes Milton say to Cowley : ' For KiDg Charles's private virtues they are heside the question. There is no good man who shall make us his slaves. If he break his word to his people ia it a sufficient defence that he keeps it to his own companions? I will not now defend all that I may heretofore have written. For the execution of King Charles I will not now undertake to defend it. From all that I know I think that the death of King Charles hath more hindered than advanced the liberties of England. It was a deed most odious to the people^ and not only to your party but to many among ourselves,' &c., &c. But what does the Milton of reality reply to Salmasius about the King's execution, and in the ' Iconoclast ' ? ^ What the devil is it to you what the English do among themselves? What would you have, pragmatical puppy ? What would you be at ? If you say that Charles died piously, holily, and at ease, you may remember that his grandmother, Mary Queen of Scots, an infamous woman, died on a scaffold with as much outward appearance of piety, sanctity, and constancy as he did. . . . The only grief is that the head was not struck off to the best advantage and commodity of those who held it by the hair. . . . Such a solemn, and for many ages unexampled, act of due punishment was no mockery of j ustice, but a most grateful and well pleasing sacrifice,' &c., &c. 78 LOI^D MACAULAY. The spirit of civil war, with its extra- ordinary bitterness and violence, reveals itself in most of ]\Iilton's prose works, except the eloquent ' Areopagitica,' which is com- paratively, if not wholly, free from it. Ma- caulay, however, through this conversation delights in ascribing to Milton his own views about Charles I.'s execution, which he ex- presses at even greater length in his Essay on Hallam and also in the first chapter of his own History of England, where he terms it ' not only a crime but an error ' of the vic- torious republicans. Yet he does not exone- rate Charles from most of the charcres brous^ht against him, but strongly condemns his execu- tion, more because of its extreme imprudence in a political sense than for its criminality in a moral one. Although such may be the calm opinion of some modern English Liberals, it may be doubted if Milton or many of the repub- licans of his day would ever have arrived at it. The chief objects of Milton's ' Icono- ESSAYIST. 79 clast,' ' Defensio Populi,' and ' Tenure of Kings,' are to prove that, a king having de- ceived his subjects and levied an unjust war against them, may rightly be tried, and if found guilty, executed by his former sub- jects, who are absolved from allegiance and transformed into his lawful judges by the crimes of their deposed ruler. Macaulay, who believes and confirms most of the chargfes against the king, admits that his execution was a crime and a political blunder, by its transferring the claims of a guilty, unpopular king, to his heir, who having made no ene- mies, was therefore more dangerous to the new Eepubhc. In the interest of the Com- monwealth, therefore, Macaulay chiefiy blames Charles's condemnation, as his execution evidently alienated the public mind from the new Government. This view he makes Milton express in his conversation with Cowley. The grand object of Milton's writings on this subject was to advocate the justice of 80 LORD MACAULAY. regicide as a precious inalienable popular right in the case of all kings acting as Charles was alleged to have done. In most of these allegations Macaulay is as firm a believer as Milton. Yet Macaulay pronounces Charles's execution both a crime and an error. Milton, unless he changed his nature as well as his principles, could hardly have believed it either one or the other. But during this imaginary conversation, as in other places, where Macaulay mentions him Milton appears a very different man from what his prose writings reveal. In extensive learning, profound thought, and eloquent writing, Milton and Macaulay rather resemble each other ; but in charity of feeling and consideration, or even courtesy of expression towards opponents, they are wholly unhke. This difference is partly owing to the peculiar periods of their lives —civil war and profound domestic peace — but probably it is still more attributable to their respective hearts and tempers. ESSAYIST. 81 Milton explores classic and sacred history with great industry to maintain and justify his favourite principle of regicide. According to him, not only Irish Eoman Catholics and Irish Presbyterians but also his own fellow- countrymen, if Eoyalists, almost deserved to be classed with the wicked idolaters denounced in Scripture. He even shows this implacable spirit in the ninth canto of ' Paradise Lost,' which proves that neither age, blindness, nor political adversity had softened his heart, but that he still viewed even fellow-English- men with a horror, scorn, and utter detesta- tion like what David expresses in the Psalms against the avowed enemies of God.^ The drunken Eoyalists whom he here alludes to were men probably like the Lucios and Gratianos of Shakespeare, the Wildrakes, Bellendens, and Peverils of Scott, whom those ^ Milton, after deploring his having fallen on evil days (meaning the restoration of the monarchy), thus implores the Muse Urania : * But drive far off the barbarous dissonance of Bacchus and his revellers, the race Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard/ &c. G 82 LORD MACAULAY. noble writers — unrivalled in knowledge of human nature — described with faults, vices, and good qualities combined, but whom Milton mentions as almost beyond the pale of humanity. Macaulay's imagination, however, seems to delight in ascribing to Milton a spirit of moderation and courtesy towards opponents which he probably felt himself, but which Milton's works certainly never reveal. In examining Mitford's ' History of Greece ' Macaulay displays that ardent love of Greek literature which he and many other great men during the present century have expressed so warmly. Notwithstanding the number of eminent British and foreign writers with whom this enlightened century has made many people familiar, the grand thoughts of Homer, Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato were perhaps never so admired, praised, and ex- plained, even by statesmen, to general readers, as during the last fifty years. Lords Derby, Lytton, and Eavenswortli, besides Mr. Glad- stone, have all either translated or quoted ESSAYIST. 8 o classic authors with more or less success, but none have been so enthusiastic or eloquent in their praise as I^ord Macaulay. For in this Essay on Mitforcl, and also that on the Athenian orators, his admiration for Greek literature is irrepressible. He even recalls his early schooldays with a fondness and pleasure very different to Shakespeare's typical school- boy, ' whining ' and ' creeping hke snail un- wilhngly to school,' who still, however, repre- sents a sufficiently numerous class. To Ma- caulay, on the contrary, ' the old schoolroom — the dog-eared grammar — the tears so often shed and so quickly dried,' &c., are among what he calls the ' endearing associations of childhood,' but it is doubtful if such feelinsrs are very general, even among the learned of the present day. Shakespeare apparently had very different recollections of his early education, and Sir Walter Scott disliked his school-life extremely. But Macaulay evidently enjoyed his classical studies as if he had actually heard Socrates, G 2 84 LORD MACAULAY. Aristotle, Plato, or Herodotus speak with all the charm of their wisdom, knowledge, and fancy. In fact classic times and characters were so like existing realities to him that the possible ruin and change of the empires and political systems of his own day seemed only the natural continuation of former events. Thus he again expresses a similar idea about the decline of England in his Essay on Mitford to his celebrated New Zealander sketching the ruins of London. After a panegyric on the ancient glories of Athens, he says that her influence and renown, derived chiefly from her imperishable hterature, will remain ' when the sceptre shall have passed away from Eng- land, and when travellers from distant regions shall in vain labour to decipher on some mouldering pedestal the name of our proudest chief,' &c. In appreciating Greek literature Mr. ]\Iit- ford, a laborious writer, utterly fails to satisfy his accomplished and enthusiastic reviewer.^ ^ * Of the indiflerence which Mr. Mitford shows on this subject T will not speak, for I cannot speak with fairness. It ESSAYIST. 85 Yet probably Macaulay goes too far in de- claring that from Greek literature, directly or indirectly, have sprung all the noblest crea- tions of the human mind, and that ' to it we owe the comprehension of Bacon, the wit of Butler, and the supreme excellence of Shake- speare.' Bacon was certainly a great classic scholar, but the author of ' Hudibras ' shows very httle of such knowledge, and his mode and place of education are unknown ; ^ while Shakespeare, according to his literary co- temporary Ben Jonson, knew ' little Latin and less Greek.' Macaulay, however, eloquently declares that ' all the triumphs of truth and genius over prejudice and power, in every country and in every age, have been the triumphs of Athens,' and in this opinion he is apparently joined by his eminent literary co- temporary. Lord Lytton, despite their different pohtics. is a subject on which I love to forget the accuracy of a judge in the veneration of a worshipper, and the gratitude of a child/ &c. ^ Johnson's Life of Butler, 86 LOED MACAULAY. In the Essay on Frederick the Great of Prussia, Macaulay dwells much on the cha- racter, talents, and errors of Voltaire. The influence which this wonderful writer acquired over parts of the Continent, and also over some minds in England, is to this day a matter of surprise to both theologians and philoso- phers. His chief opponents, among whom are many wise and excellent people, usually condemn his works with sincere dread and horror ; his admirers, on the other hand, often praise him as one of the greatest moral bene- factors to mankind whom the modem world has seen. But Macaulay when mentioning Voltaire in this Essay, and in those on Addison and Eanke's History, seems remarkably calm and judicious. He in fact admires his genius and humanity without being either attracted or irritated by his a],lieistical view s or extra- ordinary spirit OY mockery. He estimates Voltaire with a>^eady fairness and cool judg- ment whicli/^ccasionally fail him when de- scribing onaracters he strongly likes or dis- likes h/political history. ESSAYIST. 87 In many respects Macaulay is peculiarly fitted to encounter this great writer, especi- ally when both address accompKshed, unpre- judiced, or sceptical readers. For Macaulay himself possesses precisely the intellectual, tolerant mind and comprehensive views which Voltaire professed to admire and impart, while completely free from both his personal vanity and constant sarcasm. It is likely that Voltaire never had the good fortune to meet a man like Macaulay, but was chiefly known either to scoffing Atheists, to ignorant admiring followers, or to angry and offended theologians. His character and opinions, therefore, were probably viewed with high admiration and unreasoning confidence, or with the most profound and vehement ab- horrence. In Macaulay he would have met his equal in philanthropy and tolerant views, his superior in learning and personal modesty, while possessing a freedom from rehgious prejudices so true and so complete that, while a steady Christian himself, he could yet ap- A 88 LOED MACAULAY. predate all that was good even in a most determined enemy to his own faith. Voltaire, who has provoked the mildest divines to anger, who has aroused or con- firmed in the sneering and sceptical the most hardened contempt for rehgion of any kind, who has, in short, aroused the most opposite feelings imaginable in different minds upon the most important of all subjects — has no power to excite Macaulay or disturb his judg- ment, despite his enthusiastic nature. On the contrary, Macaulay describes him with calm, close attention, ' nothing extenuates, nor sets down aught in malice.' He does ample justice to his humanity and sympathy with all cases of suffering, yet instead of being attracted by his unscrupulous sarcasm which spared nothing in this world or the next, Macaulay censures it with exquisite brilhancy, judgment, and truth. ^ Those inclined either to blame Macaulay / ^ ' Of all the intellectual weapons which have ever been wielded by man the most terrible was the mockery of Voltaire^ ESSAYIST. 89 too much for undoubted partiality, or to underrate his judgment by fancying his brilli- ancy superficial, should study his estimate of Voltaire in the three different Essays which notice him. It proves that Macaulay, when his mind was not excited by enthusiasm, pos- sessed a discrimination which has seldom been equalled and perhaps never surpassed. Thus he can appreciate Voltaire's talents and geneiosity without being in the least capti- vated by his philosophy, or affected by his principles. In a standard work on English literature Macaulay is styled inferior in judg- Bigots and tyrants who had never been moved by the wailing or cursing of millions, turned pale at his name. Principles unassailed by reason, principles which had withstood the fiercest attacks of power, the most valuable truths, the most generous sentiments, the noblest and most graceful images, the purest reputations, and the most august Institutions, began to look mean and loathsome as soon as that withering smile was turned upon them. . . . Voltaire is the prince of buffoons, his merriment is without disguise or restraint; he venerated nothing. Neither in the masterpieces of art, nor in the purest examples of virtue, neither in the Great First Cause, nor in the awful enigma of the grave, could he see anything but subjects for drollery. The more solemn and august the theme, the more monkey-like were his grimacing and chattering.' — Essays on Frederick the Gh'eat and Addison, 90 LORD MACAULAT. ment to IVIr. Hallam.^ The latter is certainly more calni, as well as more dry and deliberate, in style and language. But none of his three Histories have surpassed Macaulay's Essays in pronouncing the most sound and truthful judgment on an immense variety of characters, ancient and modern, throughout the civilised world. V It is as the British historian chiefly that Macaulay's partialities seem to affect both his temper and judgment ; as an essayist he is usually as accurate and profound as he is brilliant and entertaining. In his Essay on the life and times of Lord Burleigh, Macaulay expresses great admiration for ' England's Elizabeth.' An ardent friend to liberty of thought, word, and deed, Macau- lay yet feels a rather surprising admiration for this most despotic princess ; her tyrannical temper and singular vanity he slightly notices, while praising her extreme sagacity. Macau- lay, while admitting her almost absolute power, declares that some persons do not ^ Shaw's Manual of Eiujlish Literature. ESSAYIST. 91 sufficiently consider that this power she de- rived from the willing obedience of her sub- jects ; but he can only mean a portion of them, though perhaps a majority, for some, among whom were persons of education and position, always viewed her as a tyrant, and with reason. Yet Macaulay makes the re- markable statement that the English in her time were a free people ; tliey had not the show of outward freedom, he owns, but they had the reahty. He can surely mean only the Episcopal Protestants acknowledging her ecclesiastical supremacy, for he well knew that English Eoman Catholics in her reign were so far from being free that they were scarcely safe from persecution, which some, indeed, incurred for slight offences. Even the English Dissenters had little right to call themselves free in her reio^n. For so jealous was Ehzabeth about her authority that she forbade and prevented the Presbyterian champion, John Knox, preaching in her dominions, owin^^ to his proclaimed /<>-^ 0? THE 92 LORD MACAULAY aversion to female sovereignty, though doubt- less numbers of her Protestant subjects longed to hear this celebrated preacher. The constant arrests and occasional execu- tions of persons accused of high treason in her reign, against whom the charge was certainly not always proved, also render Macaulay's assertion very questionable as to the real freedom of Elizabeth's subjects. This queen, however, was so popular with the majority that she and her ministers enjoyed immense power without much opposition from the luckless minority, whose complaints would scarcely have been allowed free utterance. It seems evident from both history and Macaulay's sketch that Lord Burleigh was much more the queen's obedient minister in many ways, than an independent statesman. All his great qualities of mind were devoted to her service, while he only ventured to recommend a ' tolerant policy to his mistress ' as long as he dared do so without ' hazarding her favour.' Yet Macaulay greatly admires ESSAYIST. 93 him as well as tlie queen despite their ex- tremely arbitrary system of govermnent. The reason is, apparently, that Elizabeth and Burleigh were most popular with the Enghsh people, the country flourished and prospered under their rule, and Macaulay, acknowledg- ing these facts, restrains, or rather moderates, his own feelings in a way which might sur- prise some Eoman Catholic or Nonconformist readers, who have little cause to admire Elizabeth's reign. He closes this Essay say- ing he has no space for describing the number of illustrious persons who distinguished this period, although he had intended doing so. This is much to be regretted, as such a de- scription would have displayed his highest powers. He thus abandoned his intention of describing Shakespeare, Ealeigh, Walsingham, &c. ; this Essay, therefore, is merely a brief pohtical sketch, which, though full of infor- mation, is neither so brilhant nor interestino- as many others on less attractive subjects. The most remarkable part of his Essay 94 LORD MACAULAY. on Mr. Gladstone's Church and State is at the close, when describing the Irish Protestant Church in terms of keen censure. He calls it a Church reprobated by four-fifths of the nation, estabhshed and maintained by force alone, and which, as a missionary one, had utterly failed, &c. Yet after expressing most of the arguments since used with such deci- sive efiect before and during that Church's disestablishment, he leaves the subject with words of solemn warning, also often used by some of its defeated supporters.^ It is difficult, therefore, to say, had Macaulay survived, if he would have advocated or opposed the great measure which has so agitated and divided public opinion in Ireland. He says, borrowing an expression of Bacon's, that there is no want of ' light,' but a great want of ' dry liofht ' about Mr. Gladstone's mind and writ- o ^ 'The world is full of institutions, which, though they ought never to have been pet up, yet having been set up ought not to be rudely pulled down, and it is often wise in practice to be content with the mitigation of an abuse which, looking at it in the abstract, we might feel impatient to destroy,' ESSAYIST. 95 ings. This opinion has been often expressed by his pohtical opponents, of whom Macaulay was one when writing this Essay, for Mr. Gladstone was then (1838-39) ' the risino- hope of stern, unbending Tories.' Macaulay, however, recognises, even in this early work of Mr. Gladstone, that remarkably earnest, laborious, yet enthusiastic spirit which he has consistently devoted to all the different subjects that have engaged his mind durino- a most eventful hfe. Of the two Essays on William Pitt (after- wards Lord Chatham), the first was written ten years before the other (1834-44) ; the rise of this great statesmen and orator under George 11. to the post of Premier, despite the king's dishke to him, is told with great animation. Even his appearance, manner of speaking, and gestures, are described as if by an eye-witness. Yet Macaulay is probably too severe in this Essay upon the Enghsh Tory country gentlemen — ' ponderous fox- hunters fat with Staffordshire or Devonshire 96 LORD MACAULAY. ale, men who drank to the king over the water, and beheved that all the fundholders were Jews, men whose religion consisted in hating^ the Dissenters,' &c. This last sarcasm was undeserved by some, to whom it seems applied, though doubtless many continued sincere Jacobites while the banished royal family survived, and Macaulay himself, in his subsequent Essay on Pitt, mentions the first two Georges in language almost worthy of a Jacobite, though for political reasons he cordially supports them.^ The glorious conquests and triumphs of England during Pitt's administration, the fame and popularity of the Great Commoner, as he was often called, and the confidence reposed in him by all classes and creeds of Englishmen, are eloquently described in this first Essay on Pitt, which leaves him ' in the zenith of his glory.' The second chiefly com- prises his political career after George 11. 's ^ ^They had neither those hereditary rights which have often supplied the defect of merit, nor those personal qualities which have often supplied the defect of title.' ESSAYIST. 97 death, when Premier under his grandson, George III. This prince, Macaulay says, was the first of his family who was really popular with the British nation generally ; and dur- ing the early part of his reign, with Pitt as Prime Minister, Macaulay describes Great Britain as enjoying almost unequalled pros- perity. In this Essay Macaulay makes many important reflections, and among them a very able estimate of the different positions and uses of Whigs and Tories in the British Empire.^ It was Pitt's good fortune to see both these parties regard him with respect and confidence. ' Whigs and Tories spoke with equal enthusiasm of his talents and services.' But, as Macaulay says, he lived to see a great ^ After stating that these rival parties both represent great principles, essential to the welfare of a nation, he pro- ceeds in language more impartial than usual with him : * One is in an especial manner the guardian of liberty, the other of order. One is the moving power, the other the steadying power of the State. One is the sail, without which society would make no progress ; the other the ballast, without which there would be small safety in a tempest.' II 98 LORD MACAULAY. change, both in the prosperity of the empire and in his own popularity. Soon after his elevation to the peerage as Earl of Chatham, the British colonies in North America revolted. Chatham had opposed many of the measures which produced their discontent ; but when their independence was about to be acknow- ledged, in which recognition the French eagerly joined, his high spirit made him pro- test against it, which was the last effort of his political hfe. Macaulay describes his last speech in the House of Lords, during which he fainted, was carried out insensible, and died a few weeks afterwards. His conduct at this time has been differ- ently estimated by different writers ; Macaulay thinks his opposing American independence inconsistent with his previous declaration, that it was impossible to conquer the re- volted colonies. But his last oration, uttered almost in a dying state, the spirit and energy which his excited countenance expressed at that moment, and the striking effect of his ESSAYIST. 90 fainting in such a place, and at such a time, denouncing with his last breath the dismem- berment of an empire he had long faithfully ruled, produced a great impression on the public mind. Macaulay, while censuring some of his political acts, declares that few statesmen have left behind a more stainless, and none a more splendid name. In the Essay (written in 1859) on Chat- ham's second son, William Pitt, the young Prime Minister of twenty-one, Macaulay re- cognises one whose Hterary taste must have resembled his own.^ He admired the classics and Milton's poetry above all other books. He knew and cared less about modern lano^uasres or literature. His great abilities and splendid ^ 'It may be doubted whether any scholar has ever, at twenty, had a more solid and profound knowledge of the two great tongues of the old civilised world. To modern literature Pitt paid comparatively little attention. With a few of the best English writers he was intimate, particularly with Shakespeare and Milton. The debate in Pandemonium {^Paradise Lost] was, as it well deserved to be, one of his favourite passages, and his early friends used to talk, long after his death, of the just emphasis and the melodious cadence with which thej had heard him recite the incomparable speech of Belial.' H 2 100 LORD MACAULAY n oratory Macaulay praises, while censuring his disdainful pride and extraordinary contempt for the literary men of his time. For during his political authority several illustrious Englishmen whose great works made them justly precious to the nation which he governed, were suffering from illness and poverty. Dr. Johnson's end was now ap- proaching, as was that of the mild and virtuous poet Cowper ; yet towards neither did Pitt show kindness or favour. Even the excellent divine. Dr. Paley, whose works were generally studied by and recommended to the rising youth of England, was left un- noticed and uncared for by this ' all-powerful minister,' ^ Macaulay compares the generosity of the XiMS ^ E dmund Burke to the poet Crabbe, and of the Whig Lord Grey to Walter Scott, with * ' All the theological works of all the numerous bishops whom Pitt made and translated, are not, when put to^rether, worth fifty pages of the Horce PauUnce, of the Natural Theology, or of the Vieiv of the Evidences of Chi'istianity. But on Paley the all-powerful minister never bestowed the smallest benefice.' ESSAYIST. 101 Pitt's conduct towards Johnson, Cowper, and Paley, with whose characters and works he must, to some extent, have been famihar. Artists and painters, Macaulay declares, were as contemptuously treated by Pitt as men of letters.^ Macaulay while mentioning this fact cannot apparently account for it. Yet it seems difficult to believe how a man of Pitt's profound learning and high principle could have so grossly, even cruelly, neglected some of the best and most illustrious men of his time. Macaulay admits his ' great talents ' and ' honest intentions ' while attributinor to him conduct which seems unworthy of either. He makes special reference to Pitt's govern- ment of Ireland, saying that could he have done the justice he wished to Irish Eoman Catholics, the '98 rebellion might have been averted, and that Irish Catholics were * ' Artists Pitt treated as contemptuously as wiiters. For painting he did simply nothing. It may be confidently affirmed, that no ruler, whose abilities and attainments would bear any comparison with his, has ever shown such cold disdain for what is excellent in arts and letters.' 102 LORD MACAULAY. ' thrown into the hands of the Jacobins,' a party whom Pitt opposed with all his energy. Macaulay's brief assertion on this impor- tant subject might surely be misconstrued, since he terms that extraordinary revolt ' a third great rising of the Irishry against the Englishry, a rising not less formidable than the risings of 1641 and 1689.' But, unlike these two ' risings,' which to some extent resembled one another, the '98 movement differed essentially from previous, though not from subsequent, Irish rebelhons. It was first ]5lanned and directed by members of ' the Enghshry ' themselves ; most of the leaders and the ablest of them were of Saxon blood and Protestant faith. ^ Yet it would be a mistake to consider this rebelUon a Protestant movement. It was mainly supported by Eoman Catholics, though headed chiefly by Protestants, with ^ ' It is a fact worthy of note that all the really formidable rebels Ireland has produced in modern times, from Wolfe Tone [1798] to Mitcliel [1848] have been Protestants.'— Justin M'Oarthy's History of Our Oivn Times, vol. ii. chap, xviii. ESSAYIST. 103 whom they had httle sympathy, except de- testation of British rule, which alone caused their temporary alliance. The few existing Roman Catholic noblemen and men of pro- perty were strongly against the insurrection, and some actively supported the Government. The Cathohc bishops and many priests also opposed the revolution, though some of the latter openly joined it, while its chief leaders were the son of the Protestant Duke of Leinster, and Wolfe Tone, whose long con- cealed hatred to Eoman Cathohcism was deep, consistent, and implacable.^ Such a union against England of Irish Catholic peasants and Protestant leaders of British descent was essentially opposed to the spirit and principle of the two previous risings to which Macau- lay implies it bore some resemblance, but its distinctive features were alike important and unmistakable. It is surprising that Macaulay pro- nounces this singular revolt ' not less for- ^ See Tone's Me7noirs, published after his death. 104 LOED MACAULAY. midable' than the wars of 1641 and '89. But in both of these Cromwell and William III. had to reconquer the greater part of Ireland ; whereas in '98 the rebels not only never captured, but never even attacked a single town of importance ; they had, more- over, no military chiefs of any abihty, except perhaps Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested before the revolution began. Macau- lay says that after its suppression it became as necessary for Pitt as it had been for Crom- well and William to consider how the victory should be used, as ' the Englishry remained victorious.' He wished, Macaulay says, to relieve the Catholic laity from civil disabilities, but was opposed by the king, and probably by public opinion also at this time in England. For this revolt was sometimes represented, both then and now, as entirely a Catholic movement, like the two previous risings, despite the evidence of historical facts.^ * Gordon's Irish ReheUioriy and Madden's Lives of United Irishmen. ESSAYIST. 105 The result of this insurrection, though chiefly planned by Republican members of ' the Englishry,' was to inspire the English with confirmed distrust of Irish Catholics, while probably the English Catholics saw with horrified surprise the strange union of some of their co-religionists with the Jaco- bins, then triumphant in France. They were, however, superseded by Napoleon, and Macau lay forcibly describes Pitt's energy in striving by every available means to oppose his almost resistless power. The astonishing success of this wonderful general throughout Europe, his constant enmity to England, and the way in which fortune favoured him everywhere, for some time were, according to Macaulay, too much for Pitt's health and strength. For even Napoleon's foreign triumphs were to his patriotic mind and pro- phetic spirit the sure tokens of future trouble and calamity to England.^ Pitt died in the * 'All who passed him in the Park, all who had interviews with him in Downing Street, saw misery written in his face. The peculiar look which he wore during the last months of his 106 LORD MACAULAY. midst of Napoleon's victories, as Austria, Prussia, Spain, and Italy, after more or less resistance, all yielded to Frencli energy and valour when directed by his amazing^ genius. Macaulay, while praising Pitt's great abili- ties, declares that he was strangely misunder- stood by many of his chief admirers.^ He even says emphatically that the mythical Pitt resembled the real one ' as little as the Charle- magne of Ariosto resembled the Charlemagne of Eginhard.' In two Essays on the Italian poets, Dante and Petrarch, where Alfieri and others are mentioned, Macaulay prefers Dante to all. He believes that his ' Divine Comedy ' breathes the spirit of Homer and ^schylus. Macaulay 's life was often pathetically described by Wilberforce, who used to call it the Austerlitz look.' ^ He states that the toast of Protestant ascendancy was drunk by persons calling themselves Pittites, though Pitt wished to carry Catholic emancipation ; that the enemies of Free Trade called themselves Pittites, though he was far more deeply imbued with the doctrines of Adam Smith than either of the ministers, Fox and Grey; and that even the Negro slave-drivers invoked his name, though ' his eloquence was never more conspicuously displayed than when he spoke of the wronofs of the Negro.' ESSAYIST. 107 literary taste, however, is so exclusively founded on Greek models, that he perhaps is scarcely |l just to other poets. For he boldly declares that Ossian's poems, or those attributed to him, are ' utterly worthless.' Yet he owns they have been much admired by many men of genius. Napoleon among others, who, Macau- lay admits,^ ' knew mankind well.' He sel- dom, if ever, mentions in all his Essays the ancient Persian, or Indian hterature ; the poems of Hafiz and Ferdousi he probably knew, but apparently cared little for. Neither does he seem to admire German literature, for he seldom mentions German authors, while he evidently takes no interest whatever in the Gaelic poems or traditions of his own country. His course of literary preference is — ancient Greece, Italy, and then England and France, whose literary men of the last and even of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries he apparently prefers to those nearer his own time. It is true he prefers ^ Essay on Chatham. 108 LORD MACAULAY. Dante to Yirtyil, but the fact of Dante's crenius reminding him of his model Greek authors probably influences his judgment consider- ably. Macaulay relates having heard the most eloquent statesman of the age (without nam- ing him) declare that, ' next to the works of Demosthenes, Dante is the writer most worthy of study by all who aspire to oratorical emin- ence.' It is evident that the awful, or rather horrible ideas which Dante's 'Inferno ' inspires, interest Macaulay so powerfully that they arouse neither that horror nor depression which they probably produce in those re- garding that poem less as a work of genius than as the foreshadowing of a future existence. For in his chief poem Dante takes a gloomy delight in describing closely, and as it were realisimx witli a terrible minuteness perhaps unequalled in fictitious literature, the future sufferings of the condemned. He ■nvrites with a calm purpose and a power of inspiring far more horror than he apparently ESSAYIST. 109 feels, whicli are indeed astonishing, but to many readers must surely be revolting. Yet it is hard to believe that a man who not only excelled, but delighted in such descriptions, really thought that he himself, or any dear P to him, were in certain danger of enduring what he describes. Macaulay observes he was a sincere Eoman Catholic, but he displays no particular dislike towards other rehgions. Macaulay's remarks on the reformed and Cathohc Churches, both in this Essay and that on Eanke's History, are as instructive as interesting, for besides the beauty of language which expresses them, his views on these subjects are comparatively free from that irritation or prejudice which they too often arouse.^ After saying that Shakespeare's ^ ' The doctrines of the Reformed Churches have most powerfully influenced the feelings and conduct of men, but have not presented them with visions of sensible beauty and grandeur. The Roman Catholic Church has united to the aT\-ful doctrines of the one what Mr. Coleridge would call the fair humanities of the other. It has enriched sculpture and painting with the loveliest and most majestic forms. To the Phidian Jupiter it can oppose the Moses of Michael Angelo, and to the voluptuous beauty of the Queen of Cyprus the 110 LORD MACAULAY. ' Othello ' is ' perhaps the greatest work m the world,' Macaiilay thinks that with his ex- ception ' no writer has looked on mankind with a more penetrating eye than Dante.' Yet he has surely never attained a popularity, even in Italy, like that of some writers of inferior genius. To his great countryman and fellow-poet, Petrarch, Macaulay awards less praise, but eloquent admiration. His account of Pe- trarch's coronation with the poet's wreath in Eome is indeed a masterpiece of language, equally beautiful and instructive.^ Eome, serene and pensive loveliness of the Virgin Mother. The legends of its martyrs and saints may vie in ingenuity and interest with the mythological fables of Greece.' ^ 'Nothing can be conceived more noble or afl'ecting than this ceremony. The superb palaces and porticoes by which had rolled the ivory chariots of Marius and Csesar, had long mouldered into dust. The laurelled ftisces — the golden eagles — the shouting legions — the captives and the pictured cities — were indeed wanting to his victorious procession. The sceptre had passed away from Rome. But she still retained the mightier influence of an intellectual empire, and was now to confer the prouder reward of an intellectual triumph. To the man who had extended the dominions of her ancient language — who had erected the trophies of philosophy and imagination in the haunts of ignorance and ferocity — whose captives were the hearts of admiring nations enchained by the influence of his ESSAYIST. Ill both classic and mediaeval, are alike present to his mind ; his knowledge of both, with their distinctive peculiarities yet certain points of resemblance, seems about equal ; all well- educated, patriotic Itahans might exult and wonder at such keen appreciation of their imperishable hterature, ancient and modern, by this Scottish writer, whose taste and genius were well adapted to arouse the admiration of an enlightened world. From the subhme beauties of these grand poets to the quaint, ignorant, yet most original mind of John Bunyan, was indeed a great change ; but Macaulay devotes to him the same careful study and shrewd examination. This man lived at a time when religious dis- sensions in Great Britain and Ireland were at their height. Bunyan, whom Scott calls song — whose spoils were the treasures of ancient genius rescued from obscurity and decay — the Eternal City offered the just and glorious tribute of her gratitude. Amidst the ruined monu- ments of ancient and the infant erections of modern art, he who had restored the broken link between the two ages of human civihsation \vas crowned with the wreath which he had deserved from the moderns who owed tc him their rehnement — from the ancients who owed to him their fame,' 112 LORD MACAULAY. a rigid Calvinist, though he was member of a Baptist congregation, joined the Common- weaU.h army against Charles I. With his pohtical views, therefore, Macaulay sym- pathises, and he reviews his singular work the ' Pilgrim's Progress ' carefully, but with great indulgence. That it did good among many people is likely enough ; it was the work of a sincere Christian anxious to improve all whom he could influence ; its peculiar, original style was probably well suited to the times when it appeared, and its popularity and usefulness among numbers of English readers Macaulay pronounces immense, while in Scotland it was a still greater favourite. Yet its spirit is certainly not free from bigotry of a very decided kind. The Pope, head of a Church which, besides containing the majority of Christians throughout the world, has always retained, even in England, many people of education, worth, and distinction, is termed a malignant giant, far more dan- i:^erous than a cannibal ogre in a fairy tale. ESSAYIST. 11 o Biinyan was often reading Foxe's ' Book of Martyrs ' — that sad, painful record of victims to Eoman Catholic bigotry — and thus in mind, though perhaps not in heart, he also yielded to a similar spirit of religious intolerance.^ For by constantly dwelling on the wrongs of one party in a contest to the utter ex- clusion of those of the other, even a most benevolent heart and mind are likely to become hardened and unjust. A virtuous Pope was to Bunyan appar- ently an impossibility, for all occuppng that position he considered were the de- structive enemies of mankind, without re- ference to individual character. Macaulay remarks that the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' ' this fanciful and dehghtful parable,' as Scott calls it, was for a long time specially ^ Macaulay observes : ^ His two chief companions were the Bible and Foxe's Booh of Martyrs, His knowledge of the Bible was such that he might have been called a liviug concor- dance, and on the margin of his copy of the Book of Mm'tyrs are still legible the ill-spelt lines of doggrel, in which he expressed his sympathy for the brave sufferers, and his im- placable enmity to the mystical Babylon.' 114 LORD MACAULAY. valued by the middle and lower classes, adding that ' it is perhaps the only book about which, after the lapse of a hundred years, the educated minority has come over to the opinion of the common people.' Had it been written at a time of less religious excitement, probably Bunyan's devout spirit would have made him more charitable, if not more tole- rant, towards the opinions of others, especially towards those of some of the most illustrious among his fellow-countrymen. This book, despite its ' many good principles, certainly shows, as it were, the taint of civil war in its spirit and tendency. For instance, only one Pope is mentioned as the fit specimen of all who precede and follow him. Lords Carnal- Delight, Luxurious, Time-Server, Hategood, and others, are the only noblemen introduced, whose names of course describe their odious characters, and they are thus presented as types of a numerous, influential, and, generally speaking, a respected class. Yet there appears little, if any, bitter- ESSAYIST. 115 ness of spirit in Bunyan's nature ; in fact the good teachings of the book are essentially his own, while its prejudices are chiefly attribu- table to the distracted times when he wrote, and from which few indeed, either of his opponents or partisans, were really free. The question of admitting Jews to the British Parliament called forth a short but eloquent Essay from Macaulay which followed his first Essay on Bunyan. He warmly advo- cated their admission, stating among other reasons that they already enjoyed ' all the rights of citizens ' in Eoman Catholic France and in the Protestant United States of America. Throughout this brief Essay, able and eloquent as it is, Macaulay indulges in more sarcasm than usual. He infers that because many people opposed the measure they considered it ' a profanation sufficient to bring ruin on a country,' and ' the most frightful of national calamities,' &c. But though some vehement opponents may have used such language, doubtless many opposed the project without 1 2 116 LORD MACAULAY. ever using such extravagant expressions in support of their views. This Essay, however, is more a spirited appeal to the general public than an argu- ment with adversaries ; and he eagerly de- clares that to admit Jews to Parliament, who had always been loyal subjects, could not be as great a political risk as to admit Eoman Cathohcs, or even some Dissenters who were most strongly opposed to the Esta- blished Church of the country.^ Macaulay here evidently felt himself on strong ground, and maintained it firmly. During the violent contests between the different Christian de- nominations even in Britain, the Jews had necessarily remained equally obedient to Eoman Catholic, Prelatist, Puritan, or Inde- pendent Governments. No party feared or trusted them more than another. Yet till ^ ^ For no question connected with the ecclesiastical in- stitutions of the country can possibly come before Parliament with respect to which there will not be as wide a diflerence between Christians as there can be between any Christian and any Jew.' ESSAYIST. 117 this present century the idea of admitting these wealthy, naturahsed foreigners to Parha- ment had never been mentioned, and perhaps never contemplated. The time at length came when rival Chris- tians, after denouncing each other as idolaters and atheists, very gradually began to regard the ancient enemies of their common faith with a favour and indulgence unknown before their own religious dissensions. The admis- sion of Jews to Parliament, though resisted for some little time, was not opposed by one religious denomination more than another. It was considered finally more a pohtical than a rehgious question. Macaulay's views were evidently shared by the public, and the pass- ing of the measure occasioned no subsequent triumph, depression, or excitement of any kind. This Essay Macaulay wrote soon after the one on Bunyan, whose religious anti- pathies were chiefly directed against fellow- Christians, while he spared the Jews entirely. In a short Essay on Ohver Goldsmith, 118 LORD MACAULAY. Macaulay observes that his poem, ' The De- serted Village,' represents an EngHsh one in prosperity and an Irish one in its decay. This poem and the comedy, ' She Stoops to Conquer,' still acted successfully in London ; the poem of ' The Traveller,' and lastly, the beautiful story of ' The Vicar of Wakefield,' Macaulay praises ; while Goldsmith's political and natural histories he considers the most worthless of his works, full of blunders, which he never corrected, though he had probably the means of doing so in many cases. Macau- lay, however, on the whole hardly does justice to Goldsmith's powers. For the rare union in his best works of extreme simplicity with profound, though probably not extensive, knowledge of human nature, still maintains their popularity even amid the vast compe- tition of the London literary world. '^The Vicar of Wakefield's' fame Ma- caulay thinks likely to last as long as the English language. It certainly has always been a special favourite with quiet, reflecting ESSAYIST. 119 persons, and lias recently been acted at two London theatres at the same time with crreat success. This fact, considering the vast number of living play-writers constantly offer- ing their works to theatre managers, proves that Goldsmith, despite his apparent sim- plicity, well understood English popular taste. The merit of this favourite work has been recognised by many generations of British audiences, notwithstanding the important changes in the social, political, and intel- lectual world since Goldsmith's time. His singular simphcity of mind seems never to have left him, even while living in the society of shrewd, accomplished, and learned friends. Dr. Johnson, the profound, sagacious morahst ; Burke, the brilliant orator and statesman ; Garrick, the unrivalled actor, who, as far as art permitted, revived the images and embodied the thoughts of Shake- speare — besides other men of great and varied abilities — all knew Goldsmith intimately. Yet despite such advantages of superior society, 120 LORD MACAULAY. usually said to sharpen the wits as well as improve the mind more than any amount of education, Goldsmith remained as simple, and in some respects even as silly, as if hving among ignorant or stupid associates.^ In Dean Milman's opinion Macaulay's Essay on History as a review is ' somewhat too excursive.' Yet surely there are few readers who would wish it different from what it is. In this sketch his profound learning and accurate memory recall the chief classic writers with all their distinctive peculiarities. The lively Herodotus, the more serious Thucy- ' ' He lived in what was intellectually far the best society in the kingdom, in a society in which no talent or accomplish- ment was wanting, and in which the art of conversation was cultivated with splendid success. There probably were never four talkers more admirable in four different ways than Johnson, Burke, Beauclerk, and Garrick ; and Goldsmith was on terms of intimacy with all the four. It may seem strange that a man who wrote with so much perspicuity, vivacity, and grace, should have been, whenever he took part in conversa- tion, an empty, noisy, blundering, rattle. So extraordinary was the contrast between Goldsmith's published works and the silly things which he said, that Horace Walpole describes him as an inspired idiot. " Noll," said Garrick, " wrote like an angel and talked like poor Poll."' — Essay on Goldsmith, ESSAYIST. 121 dides, the narrative of the patriotic Livy tell- ing the story of his native country, and the picturesque style and sensational power of Tacitus, are ahke brought back to the memory of British students. Macaulay's powerful de- scriptions are evidently drawn, not only by an admirer and a scholar, but by a com- petitor and a rival. He declares that in describing character Tacitus is unequalled by historians and rarely surpassed by novelists. So writes the most attractive British historian of the nineteenth century of one who Hved eighteen hundred years before him. In that immense interval of time literary labour and talent had extended to countries before un- known, and among millions whose general knowledge far exceeded that of the wisest men in classic times. Macaulay's own educa- tion, Hke that of most cultivated Englishmen, had commenced with a study of classic thoughts and writings, followed by an examination of mediaeval and modern Euro- pean writers who usually took Greek 122 LORD MACAULAY. and Roman authors as their model. With all the best of these Macaulay was evi- dently acquainted, while he seldom, if ever, mentions ancient Asiatic writers like Zoroaster, Confucius, or Buddha, to the last of whom Professor Max Mliller and other writers of this century have recently directed public attention. Thus Greek and Eoman historical literature, followed by that of mediaeval and modern Europe, fully engage Macaulay in this brief treatise. Perhaps in all his Essays or miscellaneous writings there is none which for its length contains so much variety of information. He reviews the four great historians of Greece and Eome, Hero- dotus, Thucydides, Livy, and Tacitus, with all the animation of real interest and pleasure. The style of the first, combining the naturalist and traveller with the historian, Macaulay compares to ' a delightful child,' while he, of course, distrusts his many fabulous inventions. The graver Thucydides, with his occasionally graphic descriptions, such as that of the ESSAYIST. 12a plague at Athens, Macaulay greatly admires, though expressmg peculiar interest in the more fanciful Herodotus. Yet recent dis- coveries have confirmed some statements in f Herodotus, which were formerly discredited.^ While bestowing some praise on Polybius and Arrian, Macaulay dwells much upon Livy, whose flowing, exuberant style, as well as his ardent patriotism, he praises highly. To Julius Cesar's famous Commentaries, however, he perhaps does less than justice. He considers them models for military despatches, but that they have no right to be called histories. Yet military despatches hardly convey, and perhaps are not expected to convey, the sort of information upon various subjects contained in the Commentaries.''^ ^ ' Many of his accounts which were formerly doubted as improbahle have been confirmed by the researches of modern , travellers.' — Students^ History of Greece, published 1869. ^ Yet Macaulay well knew and appreciated the varied attainments of this wonderful man, for he declares, in the following brilliant and instructive passage, that Caesar ' united the talents of Bonaparte to those of Cromwell, and he possessed also what neither Cromwell nor Bonaparte ever possessed, learning, taste, wit, eloquence, the sentiments and the manner of an accomplished gentleman.' — Essay on HaUam. 124 LORD MACAULAY. Even tlie natural liistory of Britain, its trees, animals, &c., wliich Caesar found there, are carefully recorded, as well as military move- ments and strategical operations, to wliich merely military despatches are often entirely confined. Of all ancient historians Tacitus is evidently Macaulay's favourite, and is pro- bably in some respects his model. He draws special attention to the wonderful skill and power with which this writer describes the Emperor Tiberius fesar. This prince, who according to both Tacitus and Suetonius was almost a fiend in human shape, a masterpiece of deceit, cruelty, and sensuality, possessing an al- most unequalled knowledge of human nature, reigned supreme over the civilised world during the most eventful period of recorded history.^ Under him the haughty minister ^ ' There was one living who scarcely in a figui'e might be said to have the whole world. The Emperor Tiberius was infinitely the most powerful of living men, the absolute, un- disputed, deified ruler of all that was fairest and richest in the kingdoms of the earth. There was no control to his power, ESSAYIST. 125 Sejanus long enjoyed great power, and was known to be the patron of Pontius Pilate.^ It was on the image of this most wicked of all sovereigns that Jesus looked when the artful Jews addressed him, and at his request showed their tribute money. ^ Macaulay considers the graphic sketch of Tiberius the masterpiece of Tacitus. To describe such a character, he owns, was a task of extreme difficulty, and its execu- tion is ' almost perfect.' Macaulay evidently agrees with this historian's estimate of Ti- berius, like Ben Jonson in his fine tragedy of ' Sejanus,' and Milton in 'Paradise Eegained,' where even Satan terms him a ' monster ' during his temptation of Jesus. After bestowing eloquent praise on Tacitus, Macaulay mentions several European historians no limit to his wealth, no restraint upon his pleasures.' — ^Farrar's Life of Christ, vol. i. ^ Ibid., vol. ii. ^ * They brought Him a denarius (Roman coin) and put it in His hand. On one side was stamped the haughty, beautiful features of the Emperor Tiberius with all the wicked scorn upon his lip.' — Ihid., vol. ii. 126 LORD MACAULAY. in the ]\iiddle Ages ; the French historian of Chivalry — Froissart, the Itahans' Machiavelli, Guicciardini, &c. ; but while admitting that modern historians have surpassed the ancient ones in ' the philosophy of history,' he does not examine their writings with the same pleasure. He makes very instructive remarks on the strange neglect with which even the intellectual Eomans treated Hebrew hterature, only admiring ' themselves and the Greeks,' while the latter admired ' only them- selves.' Although this fine Essay was written many years before his ' History of England,' Macau- lay apparently had some conception of it in his mind throughout. For he says emphati- cally tliat the Eoman Capitol and Forum impress him with less awe than Westminster Abbey and Westminster Hall ; that he thinks with less pleasure of the heroic suicide of the Eoman Cato than of Lord Eussell's Christian resignation at the scaffold ; and comparing the deaths of JuHus Caesar and Charles I., declares ESSAYIST. 127 the latter, though an enemy to popular liberty like Ceesar, was not stabbed by flatterers, but tried and executed in the face of heaven and earth. The spirit of these comparisons fully indicates the future Whig historian. He censures the well-known writers Clarendon and Hume rather severely, the former for his somewhat wearisome style, the latter for his Tory partialities, calHng him ' an accomplished advocate.' Macaulay, however, has been often so called himself, and perhaps his greatest admirers can hardly deny the charge in some passages. He says, indeed, that all English historians were more or less partial, censuring Gibbon particularly, whom, strange to say, he seldom mentions in any of his writings. While regretting the dry, dull style of most British historians, he cannot resist paying a well-merited compliment to Sir Walter Scott, who has used fragments of truth which historians have neglected, and constructed therefrom historical novels, 'which 128 LOED MACAULAY. even considered as histories are scarcely less valuable than theirs.' He adds that if Hume and Clarendon had written history as they should have done, Scott's novels ' Old Mor- tahty ' and ' Nigel ' would not be sought for further information about the Puritans and King James I. \^ Macaulay then eloquently sketches an imaginary model of a ' British History,' saying how it should be rendered ahke interesting and instructive to modern readers. ' Henry Vni. would be painted with the skill of a Tacitus, and his proud daughter as strikingly portrayed as in Scott's novel of "Kenil- worth." ' For .these two despotic, tyrannical sovereigns Macaulay shows a respect, if not admiration, surprising in such a Liberal historian. He mentions Henry's ' open and noble temper ' and Elizabetli's ' resolute spirit,* while saying very little about their pride, violence, and cruelty. In this beautiful sketcli Macaulay has the historical genius of Tacitus and the romantic ideas of Scott alike ESSAYIST. 129 in his mind while recalHng the many noble and interesting characters involved in British history, which, except by Scott and Shake- speare in a few instances, were never repre- sented with the force of reality. The eloquence with which Macaulay praises Tiberius Csesar's portrait by Tacitus reveals his own ardour to rival him in vividly describing the famous characters of British history. For this task he was destined to accomplish with a success probably equal to his expectations, if not to his secret hopes. In his remarkable criticism on Hume he cer- tainly mentions those very faults in writing history of which he himself is. often accused by readers of sense and judgment.^ It was indeed far easier for Macaulay, as a brilliant 1 ' Hume is an accomplished advocate. Without positively asserting much more than he can prove, he gives prominence to all the circumstances which support his case ; he glides lightly over those which are unfavourable to it; his own witnesses are applauded and encouraged. Everything that is oflFered on the other side is scrutinised with the utmost severity, every suspicious circumstance is made the ground for comment and invective, what cannot be denied is extenuated or passed by withou notice,' t&c. 130 LORD MACAULAT, essayist, calmly to censure tlie errors of former historians than to avoid the same himself, vdien in later years engaged in a similar labour, and exposed to similar temp- tations from political enthusiasm. The strong emotions of admiration and | abhorrence which affect the judgment of most historians, when describing a long succession of characters and events, were more likely to influence Macaulay's ardent spirit than the calm, sceptical mind of Hume, though i in men so unlike they would be roused by different causes and for different purposes. Macaulay closes this Essay with a longing look, as it were, on the subject of his present thoughts and future achievement.^ ^ ' The instruction derived from history thus written would be of a vivid and practical character. It would be received by the imagination as well as by the reason. Many truths, too, would be learned which can be learned in no other manner. A historian such as we have been attempting to describe would indeed be au intellectual prodigy. In his mind powers scarcely compatible with each other must be tempered into an exquisite harmony. We shall sooner see another Shakespeare or another Homer. Yet the contemplation of imaginary models is not an unpleasant or useless employ mejit of the mind.' ESSAYIST. 131 The task of accomplishing the splendid history in his imagination seemed at this time almost beyond his hopes. He eagerly sketches its plan, scope, and purpose, all of which he probably kept in his mind and fondly cherished there till future time and oppor- tunity enabled him to present it to the world. For, as Milman says, all his Essays ' were merely preparatory and subsidiary to the great history which was the final aim and palmary ambition of Macaulay.' Though his fame may rest chiefly on this last great work, it may be doubted wliether the immense variety of knowledge comprised in the Essays, adorned and enhvened by his brilliant style, does not render them even more useful and instructive to general readers. Perhaps his remarkable talent for interesting people on subjects seldom made attractive has caused some readers to consider him superficial. The same ideas or thoughts expressed in a terse manner, and in tedious language, would probably inspire more con- £2 132 LORD MACAULAY fidence in some people. For a brilliant style has been long associated with fictitious narra- tion, and rarely with truthful descriptions of actual events and real characters. To some, therefore, his writings might seem too sensational to be trustworthy on subjects of serious importance. Yet the opinions expressed in his Essays and miscellaneous writings have now been for many years before a highly educated world of readers, some probably both competent and willing to detect, if not exaggerate, faults and fallacies, but who have not done so except to a com- paratively trifling extent. Their wide popu- larity has thus stood the test of able criticism, \ profound learning, and careful examination, in an age abounding beyond precedent in sceptical readers and accomplished scholars. While the Essays refer chiefly to modern, or comparatively modern times, the literature and wisdom of Greece and Eome are con- stantly mentioned. They are never intro- duced in wearisome extracts, nor often in i ESSAYIST. 133 profound reflection, but appear chiefly in brilliant comparison with those of mediaeval and modern periods. The enthusiastic classical scholar appears indeed in all Macaulay's writings, even upon those subjects most interesting to modern readers. In his His- tory, copious and varied as it is, he was necessarily restricted to certain limits, but in his Essays and miscellaneous writings his mind explored an almost boundless range of subjects. Ancient, medieval, and modern authors, times, events, characters, and scenes, he examines and portrays, not only with learned discrimination but with a lively interest, with which, indeed, many readers, if not previously imbued, will probably find themselves likewise inspired. Some people, Hke Dean Milman, chiefly value the Essays referring to British history, while those relating to the Continent will probably most interest foreigners. Those on Machiavelli, Dante, and Petrarch will show Italians how this accomplished Scottish- 134 LORD MACAULAY man understood their history and historical works while appreciating their finest poetry ; those on the Eepublican leaders Barere and Mirabeau will prove to Frenchmen that he could examine the most terrible and exciting period of their history with a calmness of judgment and freedom from prejudice rare among their own most able historians ; but those on Frederick of Prussia and Eanke's ' History of the Popes ' possess perhaps a still wider European interest, common to all foreign nations, as they describe not only the rising military greatness of Prussia, but the character, talents, and weakness of that extraordinary philosopher Voltaire, whose influence, whether for good or evil, over the European mind has long been felt and ac- knowled«[ed amono^ civilised nations. In the Essay on Eanke's History the contests of Eoman Catholicism with Protestantism and with Atheism, its defeats, victories, and losses, through the progress of centuries, are told with a power, eloquence,- and impartiality ESSAYIST. 135 well fitted, indeed, to instruct the ignorant and enlighten even the educated of all rehgious denominations. Macaulay's poetical works are few ; the longest and best is the ' Lays of Ancient Eome,' in which again his classic taste and knowledge appear in all their brilhancy. In a remarkably beautiful poem written after his election defeat at Edinburgh he reveals his intention of devoting himself entirely to literature.^ There is a mingled regret and ardour in these fine lines, as if he loved the * ' The day of tumult, strife, defeat was o'er. "Worn out with toil and noise and scorn and spleen, I slumher'd, and in slumber saw once more A room in an old mansion long unseen. Oh ! glorious lady, with the eyes of light, And laurels clustering round thy lofty brow, Who by the cradle's side did'st watch that night, Warbling a sweet strange music, — who wast thou ? *•' Without one envious sigh, one anxious scheme, The nether sphere, the fleeting hour resign ; Mine is the world of thought, the world of dream. Mine all the past, and all the future mine. Fortune, that lays in sport the mighty low. Age that to penance turns the joys of youth. Shall leave untouch'd the gifts which I bestow, The sense of beauty and the thirst of truth," ' &c. 136 LORD MACAULAY. political life he was leaving as well as the literary one to which he was turning for solace and occupation. He abandons one with half-suppressed regret while devoting himself to the other w^th ardent interest. His active mind seems rather hesitating how it should best proclaim its greatness to the world, but the adverse majority decided his future course, and the defeated candidate for parliamentary distinction became one of the most eloquent, popular, and fascinating historians the world has ever seen. 137 PAET II. HISTORIAN. ' I AM more than half determined to abandon politics and to give myself wholly to letters, to undertake some great historical work which may be at once the business and the amusement of my hfe.' ^ So wrote Macaulay in a letter from India in 1835. Many years, however, elapsed before he pubhshed the two first volumes of his ' English History.' This great work com- prises also accounts of Scotland and Ireland from the death of Charles I. till that of William III. In the first chapters Macaulay surveys, briefly indeed, but with the know- ledge of historian, scholar, and antiquary combined, the social and pohtical state of ^ Trevelyan's Life of Macaulay, vol. i. 138 LORD MACAULAY. England from the earliest records worthy of reliance. He also sketches the state of the Continent at the same period to better explain the primitive condition of England. The early days of Great Britain and Ireland afford him none of that exquisite pleasure which he enjoys in the histories of ancient Greece and Eome. The manners, customs, and ideas of Britons, Saxons, and Normans possess little, if any, attraction for him. After a short yet masterly survey of the poHtical state of England, Scotland, and Ireland, when independent of each other, or nearly so, he rather hastens to the time when tliey were at least nominally united under the rule of James I. of England and VII. of Scotland. From this period he apparently feels far more interest in British history ; for from about this time English hterature was beginning to rival that of classic times in beauty, attraction, and wisdom. Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Ealeigh, and Bacon had just given their thoughts to the English world ; HISTORIAX. 139 for though the three first wrote chiefly in Ehzabeth's reign their works were probably more studied and appreciated in the pacific reign of her immediate successor. The works of these great men Macaulay understands perfectly. He views them with the pure dehght and keen appreciation of one thoroughly familiar mth the highest literary models of antiquity, and whose taste has been formed by them. For the chief writers in Queen Elizabeth's reign, finding English litera- ture so scanty, had studied classic authors with all the more care and attention. With their literary tastes Macaulay has complete sympathy. Shakespeare and Ben Jonson presenting Timon of Athens, Julius Caesar Brutus, Mark Antony, Coriolanus, Tiberius Caesar, and Sejanus with all the force and vigour of reahty ; Sir Walter Ealeigh ' collat- ing Polybius with Livy,' ^ and Bacon expound- ing, as well as studying the ' Wisdom of the Ancients,' all gratify Macaulay far more than 1 Essay on Lord Burleigh, 140 LORD MACAULAY. if they had written tales about their own period. While enjoying the works of these illustrious men, and studying the political and social condition of their period, he apparently takes no interest whatever in the many legends, romantic tales, or daily habits of their times, in which his fellow-countryman Walter Scott took such extreme dehght. He never mentions with admiration or even interest the exciting tournaments, picturesque hawking parties and merrymakings, or any pleasures of Ens^lish life ' in the olden time.' While he often delights in recalling the habits, manners, and customs,^ as well as the literature of ancient Greece and Eome, yet in narrating British history he, for a long period, only recognises a rude, ignorant, if not uninterest- ing people, as inferior to the great minds of former times as they were to their own civil- ised and enlightened posterity. No mystical or romantic tales are quoted, admired, or trusted ; ^ See his Scenes from Athenian Revels, Fraginents of a Roman Tale, Lays of Ancient Rome, kc. HISTOKIAN. 141 all i^opiilar traditions, prophecies, legends, and omens are disregarded and even ignored. A matter-of-fact, practical, common-sense man of the world, as well as a most ac- complished scholar, appear to be united in Macaulay. He dehghts in recaUing the ancient glories of Greece and Eome, their wise men, fine arts, poetry, and beautiful fables, yet when he turns to British history he is essentially practical and shrewd, eager to notice and commend every modern im- provement. He apparently has no respect for ' old Enghsh ' customs or habits, con- stantly preferring present times to the past in everything, and welcoming the unknown future, like Lord Bacon, with enthusiastic hope and confidence. Unfortunately, despite his splendid talents and excellent motives, he is sometimes too enthusiastic to be just, and when describing those men who either share or oppose his own views, he, perhaps uncon- sciously, becomes very like what he himself terms Hume — ' an accomphshed advocate.' / 142 LORD MACAULAY. Perhaps the first thne he shows this par- tiality in his history is when sketching the troubled reign of Charles I., his character and that of Cromwell. This important period apparently interests Macaulay more than any other part of British history, except the reign of his great hero William III. He mentions it in several of his Essays,^ in his poetry, and again dwells on it in the beginning of his history with peculiar attention and interest. While blaming Charles for extreme duplicity and arbitrary designs, and cordially sympathising with Cromwell, he yet explains the king's character in a very remarkable passage, which morally, though not politically, would greatly excuse his conduct.^ This ^ Essays on Hallam, Milton, Hampden, and Conversation between Cowley and Milton. 2 * Faithlessness was the chief cause of his disasters, and is the chief stain on his memory. There is reason to believe he was perfidious, not only from constitution and from habit, but on principle. Pie seems to have learned from the theologians whom he most esteemed that between him and his subjects there could be nothing of the nature of a mutual contract, that he could not, even if he would, divest himself of his despotic authority, and that in every promise which he made HISTORIAN. 143 opinion seems confirmed by historical evi- dence, yet neither previous nor subsequent writers, whether friendly or hostile to Charles, have ever expressed it so clearly. / Macaulay does not often allude to the secret causes and feelings which he believes actuated the king, and which, without jus- tifying his acts, would surely prove him a conscientious, perhaps well-meaning, prince, though imbued by others with principles fatal to rational liberty and common justice. But it is when recording Charles's surrender, or rather, sale, by the Scotch Eepublicans to his enemies that Macaulay decidedly re- sembles his description of Hume in ' gliding lightly over ' the bad actions of those with whom he politically sympathises. Macau- lay's sense of honour forces him, indeed, to condemn the act, but only in a few words : — ' Charles fled to the Scots, and was by them, in a manner which did not much there was an implied reservation that such promise might be broken in case of necessity, and that of the necessity he was the sole judge.' — Ohap. i. 144 LORD MACAULAY exalt their national character, delivered up to his English subjects ' — chap. i. Another modern Liberal historian, Macau- lay's inferior in ability and high principle, yet a man of talent, immense research, and industry, boldly and elaborately justifies this transaction as thoroughly reasonable and just on the part of the Scotch.^ Macaulay, though often prejudiced, never reasons like Mr. Buckle, yet probably had similar treach- ery been committed by political opponents, ■\ instead of blaming it in about a line, he would have denounced it with majestic eloquence. When his ardent feelings are not strongly roused for or against any particular ^ ^ The Scotch saw no reason why they should not derive some advantage from the person of their sovereign, particularly as he had hitherto caused them nothing but loss and annoy- ance. They therefore gave him up to the English, and in return received a large sum of money which they claimed as arrears due to them for the cost of making war on him. By this arrangement both of the contracting parties benefited. The Scotch being very poor obtained what they most lacked. The English, a wealthy people, had indeed to pay the money, but they were recompensed by getting hold of their oppressor, against whom they thirsted for revenge.' — Buckle's Civilisation, vol. iii. HISTORIAN. 145 individual lie usually displays admirable fair- ness and calm judgment. Hero-worship, especially in the cases of his three great favourites, Milton, C romwell, and William HI., wh om he can seldom force himself to blame, seems the chief, perhaps W the sole, obstacle to his being as just as he is always earnest and sincere. After re- viewing Cromwell's character and career in England, giving just praise to his wonder- fully firm control alike over vanquished foes and impetuous adherents, he follows him to Ireland with the same admiration. Al- though too truthful to deny his cruelties there, for he does not attempt to justify them, Macaulay, by ' briefly gliding over ' them and dwelling on the benefits he conferred on his own party, tries to forget his hero's atrocities, and thus leave a favourable impression of Cromwell's pohcy on his own and his readers' minds.^ Thus by his admission Cromwell's ^ ' He ^ave the rein to the fierce enthusiasm of his followers — waged war resembling that which Israel waged on the Canaanites — smote the Idolaters with the edge of the sword, L f 146 LORD MACAULAY. Irish policy was simply one of ' kill and take possession.' Had Charles I. or any of his generals committed similar acts, benefiting and enriching their followers at the expense of their foes, Macaulay would scarcely have intimated gratification at the prosperity or improvements of the former in their new acquisitions. For instance, the cruelties of James II. and his lieutenant, Claverhouse, Lord Dundee, towards the Scottish Presby- terians were indeed few compared to what he owns were those of Cromwell towards the Irish. Yet Macaulay describes at length, and "^ with great compassion, a single execution by Dundee's orders,^ while Cromwell's victims, so that great cities were left without inhabitants — drove many thousands to the Continent — shipped off many thousands to the West Indies — and supplied the void thus made by pouring in numerous colonists of Saxon blood and Calvinistic faith. Strange to say, under that iron rule the conquered country began to wear an outward face of prosperity. Districts which had recently been as wild as those where the first white settlers of Connecticut were contending with the red men, were in a few years transformed into the likeness of Kent and Norfolk. New buildings, loads, and plantations were every- where seen.' — Chap. i. 1 Vol. ii. HISTORIAN. 147 I though reckoned by thousands, as he admits, are briefly mentioned without apparent inte- rest. It is true that Cromwell in Ireland appeared as an avenger as well as a conqueror. The previous massacre of British colonists by native Irish has seldom been sufficiently considered by writers who describe Cromwell's Irish career as merely one of implacable, wanton cruelty. Yet Cromwell's severity towards the Irish was as little accordant with justice, and no more limited by its restraints, than was the previous ■ conduct of his foes. For the native Irish and Cromwell's soldiery viewed each other much in the same light, as foes to God and man, w^ith whom peace was undesirable, and to- wards whom justice and mercy were inapplic- able. The conduct of the Irish under Eoger Moore and Sir Phelim O'Neill proved their principles unmistakably, the language as well as the conduct of Cromwell and Milton proved the same. Cromwell's Irish career well coincided with his literary friend Milton's 1 2 148 LOED MACAULAT. views in his ' Peace with Irish Eebels,' the spirit and purpose of which much resembled his poetical predecessor Edmund Spenser's ' View of Ireland,' written in Elizabeth's reign. Macaulay, in estimating Cromwell, seems almost fascinated by his many great qualities, valour^ ^visdom, firmness, and in England admirable moderation after victory. Assailed by furious abuse from vanquished yet brave and fearless Royalists, surrounded by a triumphant, fanatical soldiery, in short, beset by every influence likely to excite passion and destroy self-control, he yet, amid all such excitement, kept his firm mind im- movably fixed upon the great object of his life — the prosperity of England. Exerting all his bodily and mental energies to the ut- most, he, as it were, held down his foes with one hand, while restraining his adherents witli the other. Thus his mingled firmness and moderation, as Macaulay ably shows, WTung from his enemies, even from the historians Clarendon and Burnet, their un- mSTOEIAN. 149 willing, but most valuable testimony in his favour. ( As ruler of England, indeed, Cromwell appears to merit all Macaulay's praise, and none higher could be expressed in the English language. To defeat enemies in the field and ilien outwit them in diplomacy, to exact steady obedience from armed followers, both after the exultation of victory and the depres- sion of defeat, are certainly glorious results of exertion and abihty. But, in addition, to control an exulting army, strictly repressing their violence while retaining their full con- fidence, was indeed a rare and wonderful triumph to achieve over human passions ; and this triumph was Cromwell's, even by the admission of his enemies.^ Yet Macaulay's unquahfied admiration of him seems surpris- ing in a consistent Liberal. He owns that Charles I.'s execution, which even if Cromwell secretly disapproved he never openly opposed, was the work of a minority. Both Houses of ^ Bishop Burnet's Memoirs, and Lord Clarendon's History. 150 LOED MACAULAY. Parliament, lie says, were closed, and the majority in the Commons excluded by force. A revolutionary tribunal then condemned and executed the king, whose memory was cherished in the minds of the great majority of his subjects.^ Thus the whole transaction of the trial and death of Charles, according to Macaulay, was the act of a bold minority of armed men, directed by a superior genius, to whom alike the power of the king and the will of the people had to submit. It was the virtual triumph of a most able military despot, for Cromwell, Macaulay says, at this time ' kept the hearts of his soldiers, and had broken with almost every other class of his fellow-citizens. Beyond the limits of his camps and fortresses he could scarcely be said to have a party.' Here Macaulay 's frankness and admiration for Cromwell seem very remarkable. In reality Cromwell succeeded in doing what ^ Chap. ii. HISTORIAN. 151 Charles and his arbitrary minister Lord Straf- ford had attempted but failed to effect. They had also tried to make the people yield to their wishes in order to enjoy the illegal supremacy which Cromwell afterwards obtained by force, and against the will of the nation. Yet for the arbitrary king and minister Macaulay has neither respect nor sympathy, though he certainly shows some pity. But for Cromwell, who succeeded in obtaining absolute power after Charles had been executed for makincr a similar attempt, Macaulay's admiration is almost boundless. Cromwell is in fact the hero of his imagi- nation. Whether ruling in England with consistent wisdom and justice, or directing her foreign policy with signal success, whether controlling Scottish Presbyterians with a severity which, deserved or not, certainly ensured submission, or devastating Ireland and filling its plundered districts with his own adherents, he is still, in Macaulay's opinion, a A 152 LORD MACAULAY. benefactor of the human race, and entitled to the gratitude of all posterity. Macaulay's veneration for Milton is as intensely enthusiastic as his admiration for \1 Cromwell. In each instance his great weak- ness is .only too evident. They are to him X idols of the mind as well as of the imagina- tion. He is so captivated by their splendid abilities and success that lie either ignores their errors altogether or tries to excuse them in a manner unworthy of his sense and judg- ment.^ For instance, he often praises Milton's best works eloquently, scarcely mentioning those in which his language is almost too scurrilous for quotation. The sublimity of his poetry, and the wisdom of the ' Areopa- ^ * The most blamable act of Oromwell's life was the execu- tion of Charles I. It was an unjust and injudicious display of party-spirit, but it was not a cruel or a perfidious measure. It had all those features which distinofuish the errors of magnani- mous and intrepid spirits from base and malignant ones.' — Essay on Hallam. It is evident from this opinion that the Irish atrocities, which Macaulay fully admits, yet made no more lasting impression on his mind than did the slanderous language of Milton in the Defensio Popicli, Sec, though he justifies neither. HISTORIAX. 153 gitica ' seem always in Macaiilay's mind when alluding to Milton ; his ' Defensio Popiih ' and ' Peace with Irish Eebels ' he rarely mentions. Thus, when describing Cromwell, his wisdom and moderation in England are justly lauded through pages of eloquent praise, while his Irish career is hurried over in a few lines, and even in them Macaulay tries to palliate, without vindicating, his hero's conduct by describing the prosperity of his adherents while enjoying the spoils of massacred or banished foes. Macaulay 's admiration for Cromwell's rule and policy naturally prevents his rejoicing at the restoration of Charles 11. , yet he owns that this event caused universal joy through- out England. Amid the national triumph and rejoicing Macaulay 's political sympathies are apparently with the aged, blind poet, who was now deploring having ' fallen on evil days and being surrounded with evil tongues.' ^ But ]\Iilton was never prosecuted, ^ ' Dr. Johnson, who, unlike Macaulay, examined the spirit 154 LORD MACAULAY. thougli his language against Charles I., openly addressed to the English nation, must have been well known to the triumphant Eoyalists. The fact of his being virtually pardoned after justifying the late king's execution in most abusive, and even calumnious, language, was surely a proof of the clemency of the Eoyalists. Yet Macaulay never praises them for it, although such clemency was very re- markable when the facts of the case are fully considered. For Milton had even tried to in- sinuate and circulate the horrible charge of parricide against Charles I., in the hope, ^ apparently, of blackening his memory, and thus destroying any sympathy for him.^ of the Defensio Pojndi, Peace with Irish Rebels, &c., as well as Paradise Lost and the Areopagitica, observes that for Milton to complain of evil tongues " required impudence equal to his other powers." ' — Life of Milton. ^ * King Charles I. began his reign with his father's funeral, I do not say his murder, and yet all the marks and tokens of poison that may be appeared in his dead body, but these suspicions lighted upon the Duke of Buckingham only.' — Fii'st Defensio Populi. Again, in chap. v. of same treatise Milton openly charges the king with parricide : — ' Charles HISTORIAN. 155 Macaiilay merely alludes to this accusation as an absurdity, without mentioning Milton's assertion, which evidently few, even of Cromwell's party, believed. He never men- tions this accusation by Milton either in his Essay on the poet or in the opening chapter of the history, where the deaths of James I. and of Charles are both recorded. Yet this allegation was a most fearful, daring, and important one, and it is difficult to explain Macaulay's complete silence about it. To pubhcly accuse any man of murder has al- ways been considered actionable by Enghsh law, but to charge a sovereign with par- ricide before his subjects in a pamphlet openly addressed to them was an act of immense importance, involving a fearful responsibility. All other allegations, such as duplicity, tyranny, &c., might be to some extent matters of oj)inion. But if the guilt of nmrdered both his prince and his father, and that by poison. For to omit other evidences, he that would not suffer a duke that was accused for it to come to his trial must needs have been guilty of it himself.' 156 LORD MACAULAY. a deliberate parricide could have been proved, or even rendered probable, against the exe- cuted king, it would have destroyed all sym- pathy for him in the hearts of the nation more effectually than either Cromwell's vic- tories or Milton's eloquence. Yet Milton himself only briefly mentions this most awful charge in the long list of sins, errors, and illegahties of which he accuses the king. Had he believed it he would pro- bably have dwelt upon it ; he apparently hopes rather to insinuate its Hkelihood than to prove its truth, though his party being triumphant when he wrote he must have had every fair means of investigating the matter, and every moral and political inducement to do so ; yet tlie cliarge, never proved even by the king's most implacable foes, went openly forth to the nation in a public treatise. This celebrated Essay, bearing the popular name of ' Defence of the English People,' was, by Macaulay's admission, falsely so called, who owns that its views and principles opposed the HISTORIAN. 157 general voice of the nation, and merely ex- pressed, though in most powerful language, the opinions of a daring and triumphant minority. But for Milton to escape the least penalty, without even having to recant or apologise for his statements, proves that vindictiveness was not among the many sins of the trium- phant Cavaliers, like the vices of drunkenness, profligacy, &c., with which Macaulay justly reproaches many of them. The executions of some of the regicides, which Macaulay mentions with indignation, apparently dehghted an excited mob, who could not refrain from taking^ the wretched revenue of hanoinor Cromwell's skeleton — a contemptible act certainly, yet more harmless than might have been the punishment of Milton as a convicted libeller.^ Some of the executed regicides. General Harrison espe- ^ ' All the contemporary accounts represent the nation (\» in a state of hysterical excitement, of drunken joy. . . . All London crowded to shout and laugh round the gibhet where hung the remains of a Prince who had made England the dread of the world.' — Essay on Mackintosh. 158 LORD MACAULAY. y cially,had treated their prisoners with merciless cruehy, and often executed them, dehberately quoting Scriptural texts about slaying the un- godly in their own justification. Few indeed among them showed that moderation, self- control, and mercy which Cromwell had con- sistently displayed towards his English foes, despite their violent language, and even the personal danger he often incurred from their hatred. Macaulay's opinion about his thorough complicity in the king's execution seems rather different in the History from his words written twenty years before in the Essay on Hallam, where, ignoring the Irish campaign, he calls it the most ' blamable act of his life,' thus attachmg the guilt of the deed distinctly to him. In the History he says that though he seemed to lead he was forced to follow, and on this occasion sacrificed his own judgment and personal inchnation to the wishes of the army. But since Macaulay admits that a large majority of the nation HISTORIAN. 159 opposed the king's execution, and also that Cromwell had his army thoroughly under control, his unwilling submission to a minority composed of obedient, devoted soldiers, does not seem a probable explanation of his conduct. In one of his allusions to Charles I.'s execution Macaulay reveals his political en- thusiasm by exultingly declaring that the regicides ' were not midnight stabbers. What they did they did in order that it might be a spectacle to heaven and earth, and held in everlasting remembrance. They enjoyed keenly the scandal which they gave.' But this stern vehement fanaticism, whether re- ligious or political, and alike founded on self-righteousness, has usually inspired cruel bigots and zealots. The same language may be applied to those who burned witches or destroyed ' infidels ' in the firm belief they were doing right. None of such persecutors, not even the Spanish Inquisitors, were in any way ' midnight stabbers.' The crimes which they committed were also ' in order that 160 LORD MACAULAY. they might be a spectacle to heaven and earth, and held in everlasting remembrance.' The midnight stabber is usually afraid of his fellow-man, and sometimes becomes a penitent, while sincere fanatics defy men utterly, and only fear or worship deities existing in their own imaginations. Macaulay, while giving a brilliant sketch of Cromwell's rule in England and successful foreign policy, owns that he was in constant dano-er of assassination from both Eoyalists and Eepublicans ; his unpopularity, which increased rather than diminished through time, Macaulay admits but does not explain — ' while he lived he was an object of mingled aversion, admiration, and dread to his subjects.' The aversion and dread were doubtless felt by Episcopalian and Eoman Cathohc Eoyalists, and by many Presbyterian Eepublicans ; the admiration seems to have chiefly actuated the Independents — a bold and daring minority, devoted, indeed, to Cromwell, but generally disliked. HISTORIAN. 161 Unless it was partly owing to their un- popularity the general feehng against Crom- well seems very surprising, for his death was apparently regretted by none except his own ^ soldiers. The rejoicing was at first concealed, or restrained, while his son Eichard and his chief officers were supreme, but directly it could be safely shown it burst forth with a P vehemence and unanimity so surprising that Macaulay himself is forced to use the exagger- ated expression that the whole nation seemed in a state ' of drunken joy ' ^ at the restoration of the monarchy. , Macaulay 's indulgence towards the quiet, ^ unambitious Eichard Cromwell, in chap. i. of the History, is rather different from his scornful mention of him some twenty years before, when the genius of his wonderful father seemed to fascinate him.*'^ In describ- * Essay on Hallam. ^ In chap. I. Macaulay says that Richard's ' humanity, ingenuousness, and modesty admirably fitted him to be the head of a limited monarchy.' In 1828 he wrote with scornful regret, and quoting Dryden's poem, ' But for the weakness of that " foolish Ishbosheth " we might now be writing under the M 162 LORD MACAULAY. ing the Eestoration of Charles II. the national delight is apparently less pleasing to him than the gloomy discontent of some Cromwellian soldiers, who looked sad and lowering when the young king appeared. Yet despite his admiration for the Commonwealth Macau- lay himself much more resembled Charles I. in literary and artistic tastes than the military zealots who supported it.^ He has little in common with either Independents or Puritans in their ideas and feehngs, while to some extent sharing their pohtical views. He keenly ridicules the Puritans for their reasons in suppressing the cruel practice of bear-bait- ing, which they did, he says, more because it gave pleasure to others than for the sake government of his Highness Oliver V., or Richard IV.' — Essay on Hallam's History. ^ Macaulay's accomplished mind strongly disapproves the following proceedings, despite his enthusiasm for Cromwell : — ' Churches and sepulchres, fine works of art and curious remains of antiquity, were brutally defaced. The Parliament resolved that all pictures in the Royal collection which con- tained representations of Jesus or of the Virgin Mother should he burned. Sculpture fared as ill as painting. Nymphs and Graces, the work of Ionian chisels, were delivered over to Puritan stonemasons to be made decent.' — Chap. ii. HISTORIAN. 163 of humanity, ' for they generally contrived to enjoy the double pleasure of tormenting both spectators and bear,' chap. i. The Indepen- dents he declares were usually extremely ignorant, violent, and fanatical ; they were usually 'root and branch' men, who viewed ' Popery, Prelacy, and Presbyterianism as three forms of one great apostasy.' With such zealots a man like Macaulay could have little sympathy, but then ' the soul of that party was Oliver Cromwell,' and their brilliant advocate the sublime poet Milton. These illustrious men Macaulay contemplates more with the reverent admiration of a grate- ful friend than with the calm judgment of a discriminating historian ; whenever and where- ever they appear they are almost always right, and their opponents thoroughly and pro- vokingly in the wrong. The character and reign of Charles II. Macaulay sketches rather briefly, but with all his natural force and brilhancy, without either vehement praise or censure. Charles's faults h2 164 LORD MACAULAY. of selfishness and profligacy lie of course despises, but they do not irritate him like those of his father and brother ; he accord- ingly describes his character with admirable care and coolness, and presents him to his readers as he probably really was.^ Although the commencement of this reign was one wild scene of rejoicing, merriment, and most extravagant loyalty, political troubles gradually appeared, and many suppressed conspiracies interrupted, though briefly, the general peace. In these plots the king's favourite, illegitimate son, the Duke of Mon- ^ ' According to him every person was to be bought, but some people haggled more about their price than others. The chief trick by which clever men kept their places was called integrity. The chief trick by which handsome women kept up the price of their beauty was called modesty. The love of God, the love of country, the love of family, the love of friends were phrases of the same sort, delicate and convenient syno- nyms for the love of self. Thinking thus of mankind Charles naturally cared very little what they thought of him. His contempt of flattery has been highly commended, but seems, when viewed in connection with the rest of his character, to deserve no commendation. It is possible to be below flattery as well as above it. One who trusts nobody will not trust sycophants. One who does not value real glory will not value its counterfeit.' . . . p HISTORIAN. 165 mouth, had some share, and was for a short time banished. At this period, Charles having no legitimate children, his probable successors were supposed to be either the Protestant Monmouth or the Eoman Catholic James Duke of York. These men were thorough contrasts to each other ; Mon- mouth certainly resembled his father in lively good-humour and recklessness, while James, though gracious and kind to those he liked, always showed a stern grave disposition. Macaulay says that to both these dukes Charles was always kind and indulgent, though he never encouraged Monmouth to expect the throne, to which he doubtless considered his brother the just and lawful heir. But several influential Protestants gradually encouraged Monmouth's hopes, dreading the probable accession of James, well known to be a sincere and zealous Eoman Catholic. For the first time, therefore, since the reign of Queen Mary the Enghsh Eoman Catholics now anticipated political supremacy ; hitherto 166 LORD MACAULAY the rival Protestant divisions of Prelatists, Puritans, and Independents having ahke en- joyed and shared it. But they had quar- relled so fiercely and offended each other so deeply that their common foe, encouraged by such strife among them, now re-appeared aspiring to supremacy and were represented by the Duke of York. These violent quarrels among Protestants were manifested even in the literature of the day. Butler's poem of ' Hudibras,' which was enjoyed by Charles and his gay Court, had for its chief object the bitter ridicule of both Puritans and Independents. Macaulay, noticing the ' anti-Puritan reaction ' in English literature, ranks Dryden among the most influential writers ' who courted notoriety ' in the reign of Charles II. His remarkable poem, ' Absalom and Achitophel,' in which Monmouth, the king's unruly, yet favourite son, is both admired and blamed, vied with Butler's sarcastic ' Hudibras ' in popularity ; at this time Dryden apparently studied the HIST0R1A^\ 1G7 I characters and tastes of both Charles II. and his brother. In his^earher poems he is gay and vohiptuous, in the ' Absalom and Achitophel ' he flatters Charles, comparing him to King Dftvid, and praising him lavishly, while gently blaming Monmouth, who, despite his turbulence, was always the king's favourite. ' Macaulay while admiring Dryden's genius ha^ httir respect for h)g character, but he ma:kes a» remarkably pathetic allusion to .Milton, rfow (^ and living in sad obscurity, ^""AA^hQ ' meditatetj^ undisturbed by the obscene ' tumults .whi(5li raged around him, a song "^ so subhnae alid so holy^ that it would not have misbjecome the-Hps of those ethereal Virtues whom" he saw with that inner eye which no calamity could darken.' This beautiful passage, Hke all Macau-lay's allusions to ]\iilton from first to last, solely applies to him as a poet. The coarse, cruel malignity expressed in some of his prose w^orks Macau- lay always ignores, yet they doubtless had 168 LOKD MACAULAY. great influence, and were likely to embitter and harden all who believed him. But while the aged poet was thus medi- tating and pining in obscurity, his poetical successors, Butler and Dryden, were writing in different ways to please the gay, profligate king and his Court, the former by ridicuhng the fallen Puritans and Independents, exposing and exaggerating their sanctified pretensions and hypocrisies, and ignoring all their better qu ah ties ; and the latter by flattering Charles extravagantly, encouraging rather than cen- suring the general dissoluteness of the time. For it was indeed a scene of joyous, giddy recklessness, a ' wild carnival ' Macaulay terms it, though saddened and darkened by dangerous plots, revolting perjuries, and un- just, deplorable executions. Of all the statesmen of this time Lord Halifax, surnamed the Trimmer, is perhaps Macaulay's favourite. Amid the dangerous intrigues of the time ' he was always severe upon his violent associates, and always friendly HISTOEIAN. 169 towards his moderate opponents.' This is a noble description, and such a man would be indeed most valuable in the councils of any civilised state. Students of Church history may well regret that a course so admirable has not only been seldom observed but often con- demned by leading theologians, who usually behaved in a spirit precisely the reverse. Macaulay after describing the princes and chief statesmen surrounding Charles 11. — the grave Duke of York, the gay, reckless Mon- mouth, the crafty Sunderland, the plotting Shaftesbury, &c., briefly records the execution of the Whig leaders, Algernon Sidney and Lord Eussell, and of the Eoman Catholic Lord Stafford, whom Macaulay considers were all innocent of high treason, for which they alike suffered. The perjurers Titus Gates, Bedloe, and Dangerfield, w^ho for some time obtained pubhc confidence as well as money by in- venting plots and falsely accusing many victims, are all introduced in this eventful second chapter. Here, however, Macaulay 170 LOED MACAULAY. changes his narration, leaving the gay, thoughtless, frivolous king beset by false friends, trusting and trusted by nobody, him- self neither cruel nor mean, yet carelessly allowing his subjects to accuse and execute one another with utter indifference. Yet he may have guessed the secret of his own position, for Macaulay owns that with all his recklessness he was a keen observer of human nature. He well knew the unpopularity of his lawful successor, and doubtless felt him- self all the more secure. Macaulay leaves this profligate king surrounded by dangers and dangerous men, caring only for the luxurious present, and heedless of the future, to describe in chap. iii. the state of England in almost every social particular at this sing- ular period. This chapter, besides being most instructive and interesting, well displays Macaulay's personal feelings as well as varied knowledge. He is throughout constantly comparing the seventeenth century to the middle of the nineteenth when he wrote, and HISTORIAN. 171 always to the immense advantage of the latter. Nothino^ in the social state or life of England seems to escape his marvellous penetration in this remarkable chapter. From legal regu- lations to English daily habits both in town and country, all are examined and often com- pared to their state Avhile he was ^vriting. One of his chief objects is evidently to banish from the minds of his readers any veneration for the past, and to devote all their admiration and respect to the present and the future He may, however, give too gloomy a picture of the state of England in former times, as an eminent fellow-historian apparently implies.^ He sees in the old days of England little to admire, and still less to wash recalled. Ani- mated evidently by Bacon's famous desire ' to enlarge the bounds of human empire,' Macau- lay while admiring present times and systems when compared with past, yet eagerly an- ^ ' Read Macaulay on the condition of the Enc^lish poor, before the last century or two, and you wonder how they lived at all.' — Fronde's Short Studies, vol. ii. 172 LORD MACAULAY. ticipates, and wishes others to anticipate, a far more brilhant, happy, and prosperous future for civihsed mankind. No British historians have probably ex- amined the state of Ens^land in its social and moral aspects so fully as Macaulay has done in this chapter. He pays great attention to the chief English towns, the improvement of which, especially of the capital, he describes with great interest and evident delight. To the English country squires, however, he is probably too severe ; his descriptions are doubtless true enough of the worst and most ignorant among them, but surely cannot fairly represent the whole class. If they do, Macaulay's ideas are at complete variance with those of both Addison and Walter Scott. Indeed Macaulay himself seems rather shocked at his OAvn description of the Enghsli squire, and modifies it ; but clearly, ' the fine old English gentleman — one of the olden time,' has no charms for him whatever.^ ^ ' His chief pleasures were commonly derived from field HISTORIAX. 17; In Macaulay's odious and repulsive picture it would be impossible to recognise any re- semblance to Addison's ' Sir Eoger de Cover- ley,' to Scott's ' Sir Henry Lee,' ' Major Bellen- den,' ' Sir Hugh Eobsart,' or even to ' Cedric the Saxon,' of a yet more ignorant and remote period. Indeed his description resembles far more Mr. Thackeray's odious ' Sir Pitt Craw- ley,' the Hampshire squire in ' Vanity Fair.' Yet Macaulay admits that Scott's historical novels, ' even considered as histories, are scarcely less valuable ' than actual histories sports and from an unrefined sensuality. His language and pronunciation were such as we might now expect to hear from the most ignorant clowns. His oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse were uttered with the broadest accent of his province, &c. . . . From this description it might be supposed that the English squire of the seventeenth century did not materially differ from a rustic miller or alehouse keeper of our own time. There are, however, some important parts of his character still to be noted which will greatly modify this estimate. Unlettered as he was and unpolished, he was still in some most important points a gentleman. He was a magistrate, and as such administered gratuitously to those who dwelt around him a rude patriarchal justice, which in spite of innumerable blunders and of occasional acts of tyranny, was yet better than no justice at all.' 174 LORD MACAULAY. themselves in giving truthful accounts of former times and men. Between the very different descriptions, therefore, of the English country gentry, given by these great writers, it might be safest to believe that one described the best, and the other the worst, specimens of the same class. Macaulay certainly sees no attraction in them, and therefore feels no interest in describing their pecuhar dress, hunting exploits, or frequent duels with rapiers, subjects which Scott delights to describe, but which are unnoted in this otherwise most comprehensive chapter. To Macaulay there appears nothing pleas - incf or romantic in the habits of our ancestors, about whom he makes some rather unfair comparisons, such as that ' a Londoner was as much stared at in a rural village as if he had intruded into a kraal of Hottentots.' Yet the feelings actuating the two sets of starers would have been very different. But Ma- caulay's great desire is to prevent his readers HISTORIAN. 175 regarding former times and habits with un- deserved respect, displaying before them all the modern improvements of a more civil- ised ac^e in their most attractive form. He therefore describes the social discomforts and disadvantages, as well as the legal abuses, of past times, with great attention, triumphantly comparing them to the general amelioration since effected in all these respects, which he partly attributes, directly or indirectly, to the practical philosophy of Bacon. He draws a most admirable and gratifying comparison — tlie truth of which on the whole is undeniable — between the merciful spirit of modern England and the strange indifference to human suffering so pre- valent in the seventeenth century.^ Though ' ' It is pleasing to reflect that the public mind of England has softened while it has ripened, and that we have in the coui'se of ages become not only a wiser but a kinder people. ... A man pressed to death for refusing to plead, a woman burned for coining, excited less sympathy than is now felt for a galled horse or an over-driven ox. . . . The prisons were hells on earth, seminaries of every crime and of every disease. But on all this misery society looked with profound indiiFerence. Nowhere could be found that sensitive and restless compassion 176 LORD MACAULAY this comparison is doubtless true in the main, it yet has some appearance of exaggeration, at least respecting ill-used animals in this century. For despite frequent efforts of humane societies, cruelty to animals, whether in vivisection or over-driving, scarcely incurs such general indignation as he implies, even at the present day. Except in the characters and talents of a few eminent individuals Macaulay sees little to admire in his survey of England in the seventeenth century. It was, accord- ing to him, a time of general neglect, dis- comfort, injustice, brutality, and legaHsed cruelty, all of which he exposes with the keenest interest and severity. The reader may be surprised therefore, even to the verge of incredulity, at Macaulay 's detailed account which has in our time extended a powerful protection to the factory child, to the Hindoo widow, to the negro slave, which pries into the stores and water-casks of every emigrant ship, which winces at every lash laid on the hack of a drunken soldier, which will not suffer the thief at the hulks to be ill-fed or over-worked, and which has repeatedly endeavoured to save the life even of the murderer.' HISTORIAN. 177 of England's condition in the reigns of Charles II, and James II. For if England was what he describes during the latter half of the seventeenth century, what must have been her condition not only during the pre- ceding reigns but also in those far more remote ? Yet he gives no hint that England had retrograded since any former period, nor is it probable, nor perhaps possible, that the state of the country could have remained unchanged during the lapse of centuries. Had he written the histories of Henry IV. or of the wars of York and Lancaster he could scarcely have described a greater amount of general neglect, degradation, suffering, legal- ised cruelty, and injustice, than he ascribes even to the latter half of the seventeenth century. The fact of England never lying ' at the proud foot of a conqueror, from those remote times to the period he describes, but being always free from foreign control, professing and studying Christianity for centuries, would 178 LOED MACAULAY. indeed lead readers to expect a very different historical picture. Macaulay, however, never recalls with the least regret any part of remote British history, but devotes his energies to prove that the present state of England is in every respect far better and happier than the past, and that there is every reason to expect that its future state will be better and happier than the present. His own times he praises warmly when compared with the past, while eagerly predicting a still more prosperous and enhghtened future. Upon this grand subject of human improvement the thought- ful historian feels and writes with the ardour of youth, and often with the inspiring interest of a sensational novelist.^ ^ 'The general effect of the evidence which we have submitted to the reader seems hardly to admit of doubt. Yet in spite of evidence many will still image to themselves the England of the Stuarts as a more pleasant country than the England in which we live. ... In truth, we are under a deception similar to that which misleads the traveller in the Arabian desert. Beneath the caravan all is dry and bare, but far in advance and far in the rear is the semblance of refj-eshing waters. A similar illusion seems to haunt nations through every stage of the long progress from poverty and barbarism to the HISTORIA]!^. 179 But, unlike some literary youths and novelists, Macaulay's enthusiastic views are founded on historical evidence and personal experience of the world. He closes this chapter with a beautiful picture of England's future state. This is fanciful indeed, as all such ideas of the unknown must be. Yet it is founded so rationally and naturally upon the experience of the past that the most cautious and cool will not be much inchned to distrust it, while it will certainly delight the more sanguine, by realising on the firm basis of historical knowledge many of their hopes and aspirations. After this very interesting chapter, which certainly describes England's social and moral state with a fulness, force, and eloquence highest degrees of opulence and civilisation. But if we resolutely chase the mirage backwards we shall find it recede before us into the regions of fabulous antiquity. We too shall in our turn be worshipped and envied. It may well be in the twentieth century that sanitary police and medical discoveries will have added several more years to the average length of huma,n life ; that numerous comforts and luxuries, where now unknown or confined to a few, may be within the reach of every diligent and thrifty working-man.' N 2 180 LORD MACAULAY. seldom attempted by historians, Macaulay resumes his narration and records the death of Charles II. This prince, the incarnation of selfish and reckless dissipation, formed a thorough contrast to the many fierce, am- bitious, restless spirits surrounding him to the last, whose conflicting interests and wishes were destined to cause future trouble, suffer- ing, and war. The good-humoured, cheerful, witty disposition of Charles somewhat lessens Macaulay's dislike to him ; he gently blames his dissolute habits, but hardly views them with the horror with which they were regarded by some of his most austere subjects. "-xfy^ The person towards whom Macaulay feels a dislike, and even hatred, which, though V partly well-founded, may be sometimes, per- haps, excessive, is his unfortunate successor, James II. This prince seems to Macaulay like the chief villain of a novel to the inven- tive author. He appears in some respects the embodiment of all that a mind like Macaulay's would detest particularly — HISTORIAN. 181 proud, bigoted, arbitrary, and dull ; the rule of such a prince would indeed op- pose most of Macaulay's ideas of human happiness and improvement. But respecting James's conduct to his subjects the peculiar circumstances of his early life should be remembered, in order to form a just opinion. In the first place, the public execution of his father had evidently made a profound, lasting impression on his naturally thoughtful, serious, and perhaps rather gloomy, mind. This awful event had apparently made no lasting impres- sion on Charles II. ; it had neither made him hate nor fear his subjects, nor even regard any section of them with the least bitterness ; although he died a Eoman Catholic he had never shown any decided preference for that creed, and Macaulay states it was with diffi- culty, if not danger, that a priest was brought to him at the very last by his brother. ' If it cost me my life,' exclaimed the future king, ' I will fetch a priest.' Such was the dislike with which Eoman Catholicism was generally 182 LOED MACAULAT. viewed at this time that Father Huddleston had to be brought in disguise to the palace. Charles's death, detailed in Macaulay's peculiar, dramatic style, claims special atten- tion, as it really proves beyond doubt the intense religious prejudices existing, even among the most influential and enhghtened Enghsh people at this period. Charles, care- less and dissolute through hfe. at last followed his brother's advice, but still retained that extraordinary levity which had always dis- tinguished him. Macaulay records that he pohtely apologised to his courtiers for not dying sooner, but ' hoped they would excuse it.' This was the last display of that ' ex- quisite urbanity,' as Macaulay terms it, which he had always shown to all persons and on every subject. He was thus an amazing contrast to the earnest, fierce, ambitious, and bigoted spirits among whom he lived, and by whom England was destined to be involved in sanguinary wars and tumults after his death. HISTORIAN. 183 The new king James II. ascended the throne with the bitter recollection of the deaths of his father and brother firmly im- pressed upon his mind. The first imbued him with the utmost dread of his subjects acquiring more liberty than he could prevent, the latter with dislike of all religious systems but his own, which aspired to political influ- ence. He therefore detested EpiscopaHans and Presbyterians with peculiar bitterness, as they w^ere numerous and powerful, while to small sects Hke the Quakers, few in number and having little influence, he was disposed to be just and tolerant. He was accordingly gracious and friendly to the celebrated Quaker, William Penn, a man generally re- spected. Macaulay seems rather puzzled to explain the apparent cordiahty between the arbitrary Roman Catholic king and this mild, bene- volent enthusiast whose peculiar faith, Ma- caulay owns, difiered more essentially from Eoman Cathohcism than any other form of ((UiriVERSITTl 184 LOKD MACAULAY. Christianity. One bond between them, Ma- caulay says, was the common dishke in which their rehgions were held by Prelatists, Pres- byterians, and Independents, then the most powerful Christian divisions, who had all recently enjoyed pohtical supremacy, either in England or Scotland. Between James and Penn there had long been ' a familiar acquaintance,' and the latter was beheved to have great influence. Ma- caulay, while praising Penn for many ex- cellent qualities, implies that he suffered him- self to be cajoled and flattered, for 'his resolution gave way when attacked by royal smiles, female blandishments, and the insinuat- ing eloquence of veteran diplomatists and courtiers.' But Macaulay's sketch of Penn is scarcely satisfactory ; it requires, he owns, ' some courage to speak the whole truth about him.' Penn, however, probably felt a respect- ful sympathy, natural in a tolerant mind, for a king who, at the outset of his career, re- presented hke himself a Christian denomina- HISTORIAN. 185 tion, disliked, distrusted, and, as Macaulay says, considered ' beyond the pale of the largest toleration.' Thus the Eoman Catholic king and his Quaker subject, both men peculiarly devoted to their different religions, were brought strangely together, and each viewed with suspicious, scornful hostility by the numerous and influential Prelatists, Presbyterians, and Independents who, while distrusting one another, cordially agreed in disliking and despising Catholics and Quakers. When the social and political positions of these two Christian denominations are con- sidered, there seems sufiicient reason for Penn's confidence in, and sympathy for, James, even by Macaulay's own statements, at the beginning of his reign, without attri- buting Penn's conduct to a contemptible vanity, equally inconsistent with his cha- racter and principles. There is no doubt that Penn died as much respected and honoured as he had lived, while had he been proved 186 LOED MACAULAY or thought as vain and weak as Macaulay suspects rather than states, his reputation, especially among his own quiet, devout sect, would have suffered materially. From Macaulay 's own account of the state of religious feeling in England, there seems ample reason for the distrusted king and the equally despised Quaker sympathis- ing with each other, without imputing mean motives, deceit, or personal vanity to either. For at first James might reasonably believe himself representing an oppressed minority in Great Britain and an oppressed majority in Ireland. The ruling Protestants might indeed have referred to the persecuting reign of Queen Mary, the last Eoman Catholic sovereign, as their excuse, though not on Christian principles, for adopting retaliatory measures, but even this excuse could not be urged for intolerance, eitlier in act or spirit, towards the few and harmless Quakers. Thus Macaulay clearly shows that by indulging them James could plausibly claim for his HISTOKIAX. 187 co-religionists a far greater toleration than they had for years experienced under Epis- copahans, Presbyterians, or Independents.^ But the general dishke to Eoman Catholics was now so great throughout England that Monmouth, popularly called the Protestant duke, was tempted to head a revolution, which soon resulted in his defeat, capture, and execution. Macaulay describes this re- markable revolt with great minuteness, and while blaming Monmouth for issuing a savage proclamation quite at variance with his mild temper, yet evidently pities his sad fate. In this document he actually accused James of murderino^ the late kino^ summonincr all true Englishmen to bring him to justice as a tyrant and murderer, while he himself headed ^ ^ The Quakers were guiltless of all offence against James and his House. No libel on the Government had ever been traced to a Quaker. In no conspiracy against the Government had a Quaker been implicated. It was natural that James should make a wide distinction between this harmless race and those fierce and restless sects which considered resistance to tyranny as a Christian duty, and which had diu'ing four centuries borne peculiar enmity to the House of Stuart.' — Chap. iv. 188 LORD MACAULAY. those who obeyed his call in open rebellion. Shortly before his execution he asked to see the king, who admitted him for the last time to his presence. Macaulay owns that Mon- mouth was justly condemned, yet he says for James ' to see him and not to spare him was an outrage upon humanity and decency.' If seeing him aroused hopes of pardon in Monmouth this statement might be true enough ; but perhaps Macaulay hardly suf- ficiently considers another cause for the king's granting an interview, which probably in- fluenced him more than any other motive — the hope of converting the duke to the only faitli which, in James's narrow mind, could secure his eternal pardon. For Mon- mouth hinted to the king himself at becom- ing a Eoman Catholic if his life were spared, and it is therefore probable that his inclina- tion or feelings in this respect were conveyed to James before tlie interview. When, how- ever, Monmouth found James implacable, though most anxious for his soul's conversion, HISTOEIAN. 189 he showed no further wish to change his rehgion, and died a professed Protestant. The whole account of Monmouth's revolt, capture, and imprisonment, his interview with James, his dreadful execution, and the sympathy of those who beheld it, are recorded in Macaulay's best style ; for had these events been told by an eye-witness they could hardly be described with more force, precision, or pictorial effect. After detailing the exe- cution at length, Macaulay closes his first volume with long and graphic accounts of the trials and executions of Monmouth's followers in the south of England, under the auspices of the cruel Judge Jeffries. This man Ma- caulay had previously mentioned when pre- siding at the punishment of Titus Gates, and also at the trial of the pious Non- conformist Eichard Baxter. But his savage temper and brutal ferocity were more fully developed after the suppression of Monmouth's revolt. Macaulay's indignant, vivid descrip- tion renders this terrible judge as odious to 190 LORD MACAULAY. his readers as if he were the villain of a romance persecuting and murdering all the most interesting persons in it. Not only his violence and cruelty, but coarse manners and hideous features, are described as carefully as if he were some evil monster in a fairy tale. Macaulay avers that Jeffries boasted he had executed more traitors than all his judicial predecessors had done since the Conquest. This language may have been exaggerated, yet Macaulay states with just liorror that Jeffries executed three hundred and twenty persons during his circuit through the south of England, describing with most pathetic accuracy the executions of many victims, both men and women, for alleged treason or conni- vance at the escape of fugitives. Macaulay evidently desires to make his readers view ' the wicked king and the wicked judge ' with about equal abhorrence, and the charges of wanton cruelty that he brings against both at this triumphant period of their history seem clear and undeniable. He HISTORIAN. 191 begins his second volume by declaring that ■ ' James was now at the height of power and prosperity,' after the suppression of the combined rebellions of Monmouth and the Earl of Argyle in England and Scotland. Yet if the rehgious as well as political state of Britain be considered, it seems that his power could hardly have been ever very firmly established. The combined revolts of Mon- mouth and Argyle were indeed suppressed without much trouble or loss of men and money, for, as Macaulay shows, though the Duke was personally popular, his well- known illegitimacy and equally well-known imprudence effectually prevented his ever being a formidable claimant to the British throne. Argyle's rebelhon in Scotland was still less important, and he was soon betrayed and executed. But the strong dislike to Eoman Catholicism which now animated all Protestant divisions, suggested a constant dis- trust and suspicion of the king himself among the majority of his British subjects. 192 LORD MACAULAY. About this time the poet Dryden wrote his celebrated poem, ' The Hind and Panther,' in which the different rehgions in England are cleverly, though of course partially, described from a Eoman CathoHc point of view. King James is the royal, generous lion ; the ' milk- white hind ' detested by other animals, is the Eoman Cathohc Church ; the spotted, mis- chievous panther, the established Episcopal Church ; the ' greedy wolf ' personates the Puritans ; the ' bloody bear,' the Indepen- dents ; the ' fox,' the Socinians ; the ' bristled boar,' the Anabaptists ; and the ' buffoon ape,' the Atheists ; while the timid ' quaking hare ' represents the Society of Friends. In these strange comparisons the idea of the hind and hare, as large and small game, surrounded by hostile animals, rather resembled the position of Catholics and Quakers at the accession of James II. This poem, despite its fanciful character, probably produced no good effect on the king HISTORIAN". 193 and nation generally, as it certainly tended to embitter and increase those religious anti- pathies which it was a Christian duty to diminish as much as possible. This poem, in Macaulay's opinion, contains the finest passages Dryden ever wrote, and * appeared with every advantage which royal patronage could give.' It was doubtless a great favourite with James, for besides ascrib- ing to him the real strength and imaginary nobleness of the king of beasts, it describes his rehofion as * Innocent within. She feared no danger for she knew no sin,' &c., yet was hated by the other beasts of the forest, and saved from their ferocity by the protection of the royal lion. Considerincf the relisfious dissensions of this time, and that Eoman Catholics, Prela- tists, Puritans, and Independents had each alternately ruled, and each abused political power in the opinions of the rest, it is not surprising that these should be represented in a fanciful poem as thoroughly good or 194 LORD MACAULAY. thoroughly wicked, according to the chance views or interests of the writer. But neither Socinians, Quakers, nor Atheists had ever ruled in England, yet none were spared by the keen wit of Drj^den. The Atheists had comparatively little right to complain of being compared to a ' buffoon ape who mimicked all sects and had his own to choose,' for sarcasm and ridicule have usually been their chief weapons from the days of Lucretius to Voltaire. But the poor Socinian, ' false Eeynard,' apparently deserved the name, chiefly for trying, like the clever fox in ^sop's Fables, to avoid offending others, in whose power he was, by exerting all his wits and cunning to save his life. The quaking hare ' who professed neutrality but would not swear,' and quite harmless, might not, per- haps, have satisfied William Penn, but well represented the Quakers as entitled to protec- tion, which was all the favour so small and quiet a sect probably desired at this time. Macaulay says that in the beainning of HISTOKIAN". 195 this poem the Anglican Church is mentioned tenderly, and exhorted to join Eoman Cathohcs against Protestant Dissenters, but at the close, and in the preface, a contrary spirit appeared, and the Puritans, Independents, &c,, are invited to join Eoman Cathohcs against the Estabhshed Church. This change, he says, in the language of the Court poet revealed a great alteration in the king's own policy ; for he apparently hoped for some time that the Episcopal Church would, as Macaulay says, ' share ascendancy with the Church of Eome.' When once this idea was abandoned James considered, perhaps truly, that, despite its closer resemblance to his own faith than other Protestant denominations, it was yet the most formidable foe to the Church of Eome. Macaulay, while stating the intense dis- like to Eoman Catholicism throughout Great Britain, blames James most severely for in- creasini? that feehno^ against his co-reli^ionists by his arbitrary conduct, when it was in his power to greatly mitigate popular prejudices 2 196 LORD MACAULAY- by a prudent policy towards his Protestant subjects ; for most eminent Eoman Catholics, and certainly the Pope himself, highly dis- approved James's conduct as very prejudicial to their interests. This Pope, Innocent the Eleventh, was evidently a man of enlighten- ment, humanity, and moderation. He not only gave the best advice to the obstinate king to avoid irritating British Protestant subjects by his rashness, but resolutely con- demned the persecution of French Protestants, even by a strong Eoman Cathohc Govern- ment, when pohtically such a persecution was apparently for the interests of Eoman Catho- licism. While the Pope thus set a good example to both opponents and partisans, some English Eoman Cathohcs, among whom Father Petre was conspicuous, gave very different counsel to James, which he followed, unfortunately for himself. In fact James respected the name and position of Pope more than he was inclined to obey a reasonable, just man who HISTOEIAI^. 197 bore that title, and who proved himself so eminently worthy of it ; for Pope Innocent, like the Protestant champion, William of Orange, took a European view of British politics, and was remarkably free from those personal or national interests and prejudices which actuated James and many of his advisers. Father Petre, Macaulay says, was an eloquent, polished man, but weak, vain, and ambitious. He is, however, perhaps pre- judiced against this man, whom he even rather ridicules when doing his duty as a priest and subject by remonstrating on his knees with James about his faithlessness to the queen. ' His duty was not less strenuously performed because it coincided with his interest,' &c. Macaulay, however, is natu- rally indignant with Petre throughout for his constant encouragement of James's intolerance and arbitrary policy, and declares that ' of all the evil counsellors, he bore perhaps the largest share in the ruin of the House of ^ 198 LORD MACAULAY. Stuart,' chap. v. He was a Jesuit rather dis- trusted by the Pope, who, hke some of his predecessors and successors, opposed rather than favoured this celebrated order. Macaulay gives a very graphic, compre- hensive, though not friendly, account of this remarkable body, whose wonderful energy and practical enthusiasm have made them alter- nately objects of the deepest veneration and distrust in different Christian countries. Their very name has been made in England to ex- press deceit and artifice, for ' Jesuitical ' con- duct is often supposed the reverse of honest or trustworthy. Macaulay, in his admirable sketch of this order, shows profound know- ledge of their history through out the world ; their good and evil qualities are carefully examined, and though his description is on the whole unfavourable, he yet acknowledges tlieir many good deeds in a spirit of calm impartiality. As before observed, Macaulay, when de- scribing religious men, or societies of men, HISTORIAN. 199 usually preserves a fairness and discrimination seldom found in the works of theologians ; while in describino- kincrs and statesmen his political enthusiasm often makes him less trustworthy. His account of the Jesuits (chap, vi.) is a masterpiece of steady discrimi- nation, extensive knowledge, and philosophic calmness. Their system, profession, objects, and workings are explained to civilised readers with the evident desire of telhng complete truth about them. His account is the more valuable, as in most previous British histories they are either sternly de- nounced or vehemently praised, according to the different feelins^s of various historians.^ In the reio'n of James H. the Jesuits, accord- o ^ ' Willi the admirable energy, disinterestedness, and self- devotion which were characteristic of the society, great vices were mingled. So strangely were good and evil intermixed in the character of these celebrated brethren, and the inter- mixture was the secret of their gigantic power. That power could never have belonged to mere hypocrites. It could never have belonged to rigid moralists. It was to be attained only by men sincerely enthusiastic in the pursuit of a gi-eat end, and at the same time unscrupulous as to the choice of means.' — Chap. vi. 200 LOKD MACAULAY. ing to Macaulay, looked more to France than to Eome for their guidance, and their Enghsh representative, Father Petre, ac- quired such influence over the king that the advice and counsel of the Head of their Church were in pohtics utterly disregarded. The infatuated folly of James in steadily alienating his subjects is clearly detailed throughout this sixth chapter. The dismissal of the Protestant ministers Lords Clarendon and Eochester, men of moderate views and generally respected, shows clearly the strong' religious and political excitement prevailing at this time. James had tried and failed to make Eochester a Eoman Catholic, and it was said the latter's dismissal was owing to his firm refusal to change his faith. Macaulay thinks this statesman hardly deserved the general sym- pathy, and even admiration, he obtained, for his refusal to abandon his religion immediately made him a favourite. A.t this period there HISTORIAN. 201 were few newspapers devoted as now to the praise or censure of contending statesmen. For many years past in England both party strife and pohtical rivalry have often been noticed in caricatures and witty remarks, which, whether friendly or hostile, usually display a hvely spirit, either of merry ap- plause or equally merry derision. But in the times of James II. all pohtical changes and intrigues were involved with deep reli- gious feelings, hopes, or motives. Accord- ingly Macaulay says that during Eochester's disgrace the Old and New Testaments were examined to find parallels for his heroic piety. He was ' Daniel in the den of lions, Shadrach in the fiery furnace, Peter in the dungeon of Herod, Paul at the bar of Nero.' So thoroughly were religious and political feel- ings combined in En^jland at this time that Macaulay himself seems amazed at the deter- mined obstinacy of James in irritating the public mind more and more by recklessly 202 LORD MACAULAY. appointing violent, unpopular men to the highest offices of state. The fall of Clarendon, Viceroy of Ireland, accompanied or soon followed that of Eoches- ter, and he was replaced by Eichard Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnel. To this personage Macaulay shows great dislike, yet he was evidently a man of energy and loyalty to his sovereign, but of violent passions and reckless habits. Macau- lay closes the sixth chapter by calhng the dis- missal of Eochester and Clarendon a great epoch in the reign of James II. From this time the king's evident object was not the toleration but the pohtical supre- macy of his own religion, now professed in Britain by a small minority, and generally viewed with a distrust and aversion which many moderate Protestants could hardly deny were extravagant and unreasonable. Yet James by his reckless policy seemed resolved to verify the worst suspicions of his Protest- ant subjects, and acted as if by the advice of the foes rather than the friends of his HISTORIAN. 203 Church, to promote the mterests of which his future hfe was exclusively devoted. During this time of popular discontent, dread, and anxiety, the Prince of Orange, James's son-in-law, was first thought of by the Protestants as their 'Deliverer.' This prince, Macaulay's hero from the seventh chapter to . the end of the History, he describes with an almost affectionate enthusiasm. In him Macau- lay evidently recognises a man pre-eminently fitted from his youth to control, direct, and govern. While a child he was remarkably observant, but he studied the living charac- ters around him rather than the works of those he never saw. He knew little of arts and sciences, and cared little for literature ; if he nourished ambitious hopes and thoughts he kept them carefully to himself.^ Though even Macaulay cannot prove him very amiable, he had always that fixed, ^ ' Long before he reached manhood he knew liow to keep secrets, how to baffle curiosity by dry and guarded answers, how to conceal all passions under the same show of grave tranquillity.' 204 LORD MACAULAY. steady aversion to persecution and intolerance natural to a calm, gifted mind, studying human nature from personal experience rather than from the teadiings of others. Macaulay says he was a predestinarian, and that this was ' the keystone of his religion.' His being so perhaps explains in great measure that wonderful courage, amount- ing to utter insensibility to fear, which Ma- caulay praises so higlily, but probably not more than his real heroism merited.^ Yet Macaulay's classic mind cannot boast that his hero, like himself, took any interest in the heroes or the works of antiquity. The achievements and glories of such men, whether recorded in heart-stirring poems or eloquent histories, are often supposed to arouse and inspire the spirit of emulation. Thus Shakespeare makes his promising but ^ ' lie was proved by every test — by vi^ar, by wounds, by painful and depressing maladies, by raging seas, by the immi- nent and constant risk of assassination, a risk which tried even the adamantine fortitude of Oliver Cromwell. None could discover what that thing was which the Prince of Orange feared.' HISTORIAN. 205 ill-fated young Prince long to emulate the glories of Julius Cassar,^ and the recorded exploits of all great men, whether warriors, statesmen, travellers, &c., are often known to inspire those who study them with the true spirit of ardent emulation. But this practical young hero was observing the men and poli- tics of his time at an age when most youths are studying those of the recorded past ; for in Macaulay's words, ' since the Eoman Emperor, Octavius, the world had seen no such instance of precocious statesmanship.' The fact of his believing in predestination, and declaring that ' if he were not convinced of this tenet he must become an Atheist or mere Epicurean,' explains his fearlessness so thoroughly that Macaulay is perhaps un- reasonably surprised at his invincible courage. This doctrine, though professed by many Anabaptists,^ has been rejected by some Pro- testant Churches, and thouf^ht a dano^erous belief. Some persons have merely professed 1 Richard III. ^ Sir Walter Scott's Abbot. 206 LORD MACAULAY. belief in it, but Macaulay evidently considers William of Orange quite sincere, ' the single instance ' in which ' all the sap of his vigorous mind was early drawn away from the specu- lative to the practical/ After mentioning William's constant friend- ship for his Dutch fellow-countryman, Ben- tinck, Macaulay describes most favourably the character of his young wife the Princess Mary, and also that of the excellent Bishop Burnet, who had the moral glory and political credit of reconciling the royal pair after a quarrel which, Macaulay owns, arose from WilUam's faithlessness to her. In fact the rival princes, James and Wilham, both for a time deserted their young and handsome wives for the sake of two plain but clever mistresses. In describing this conduct Macaulay slightly reveals his partiality to his favourite, for while justly blaming and ridicuUng James for his infatuation about Catherine Sedley, he rather apologetically states of Wilham's HISTORIAIS^ 207 mistress, Elizabeth Yilliers, that ' she possessed talents which well fitted her to partake his cares.' Yet probably her society was not cultivated much for the benefit of the State or for political objects ; but Macaulay's opinions of the rival princes are so high and so low respectively that he can seldom, if ever, perceive a merit in the one or a serious fault in the other. He accordingly censures and despises James, while he tries to vindicate William for what was really very much the same conduct in similar circumstances.^ He gives a very interesting sketch of the cele- ^ ^ James, in a fit of fondness, determined to make his mistress Countess of Dorchester in her own right, and himself forced the patent into her hands. James went on for a time sinning and repenting. In his hours of remorse his penances were severe. His queen, Mary of Modena, treasured up to the end of her life the scourge with which he had vigorously avenged her wrongs upon his own shoulders. Nothing but Catherine Sedley's absence could put an end to the long struggle between an ignoble love and an ignoble superstition.' — Chap. vi. Respecting King William's granting a large Irish estate to his mistress, whose husband he made Earl of Orkney as a reward for his marriage, Macaulay gently writes: — ^ It was indeed an unfortunate grant, a grant which could not be brought to light without much mischief and much scandal. It was long since WUliam had ceased to be the lover of Elizabeth 208 LORD MACAULAY. brated Bishop Burnet, who, during the event- ful reigns of Charles II., James, and William, seems to have enjoyed the confidence, friend- ship, or acquaintance of the three kings, and of the most eminent men durins^ their reic^ns. Macaulay says that this remarkable man was at once ' a historian, an antiquary, a theolo- gian, a preacher, a pamphleteer, a debater, and an active political leader,' and that he ' made himself conspicuous in all these cha- racters.' During such troubled times, and involved with dangerous men of many descriptions, it is a proof of Burnet's moral and intellectual superiority that he was never convicted of any offence by any party, but was universally respected. Thus Macaulay is perhaps too severe when describing him as ' indiscreet, talkative, always blabbing secrets, asking im- pertinent questions, and obtruding unasked advice.' This last fault, if it can be so con- Villiers, long since he had ashed her counsel or listened to her fascinating conversation/ &c. — Chap. xxv. W HISTORIAN. 209 sidered, was probably often his painful duty at times of great excitement, and among men of reckless unscrupulousness. On the whole, however, Macaulay highly esteems Burnet, though he scarcely praises him as much as he deserves, even from his own account of his many great and rare qualities.^ Burnet's history of his own times displays a tolerance, a love of justice, and above all a power of perceiving merits in opponents and errors in partisans truly creditable to his heart and judgment, and which of course render his opinions most valuable to a studious posterity. He, however, hke all moderate men, soon offended James II., and was sharply ridiculed by Dryden as the Buzzard,^ who, however, despite his sarcastic genius, could lay Httle to his charge : — * Prompt to assail and careless of defence, Invulnerable in his impudence, ^ Macaulay thus notices in noble language Burnet's generous intercession with King William' in behalf of Lord Rochester: — ' Burnet had been deeply injured by him, and revenged himself as became a Christian divine.' — Chap. xi. ^ Hind and Panther. 210 LORD MACAULAY. He dares the world, and eager of a name, He thrusts about and jostles into fame.' These lines might yet represent an ener- getic, fearless man resolved to do his duty, and becoming famous despite dangerous times and numerous enemies. Such he evidently was according to Macaulay, who pronounces him a ' thoroughly honest man,' and that ' his nature was kind, generous, and forgiving.' His tolerant spirit and sound common-sense in respecting all whose ' lives were pure ' among religious and political opponents, prove him, according to Macaulay, to have been far in advance of his age in spirit and thought. His eloquence in the pulpit was so remarkable that many modern divines and congregations have ample reason to envy his great talents in this respect, and to regret their extreme rarity.^ ^ ' In the pulpit the eflfect of Burnet's discourses, which were delivered without any notes, was heightened hy a noble figure, and by pathetic action. He was often interrupted by the deep hum of his audience, and when after preaching out the hour-glass, which in those days was part of the furni- ture of the pulpit, he held it up in his hand, the congregation HISTOKIAN". 211 In reading Macaulay's version of all the errors and imprudences of James II., in Eng- land especially, it seems surprising how many sensible, loyal, and popular men surrounded the obstinate king who yet persisted in dis- regarding them completely. Archbishojj Sancroft, Bishops Burnet and Stillingfleet among English Churchmen, Lords Clarendon, Rochester, and Halifax among statesmen, vainly offered advice and counsel ; their loyalty was then not suspected by the king, yet their opinions he utterly despised. Al- though he tried to win over the Puritans and Dissenters, Macaulay considers that the majo- rity, even of them, viewed him with well- merited distrust ; for James's steady hostility to the Anglican Church was not, Macaulay says, caused by its intolerance to other Churches, but chiefly because of all other religions in his kingdom it was the most formidable foe to his own. It seems evident clamorously encouraged him to go on till the sand had run off once more.' — Chap. vii. p 2 212 LORD MACAULAY. from history, so ably examined and explained by Macaulay, that James had no more idea of establishing a general toleration than a most ignorant fanatic. It was supremacy which he desired for his own Church, even in a land where it was only professed by a small minority, and in which, when he began to reign, it was scarcely tolerated. In reading Macaulay 's account of James's imprudence in offending his most loyal sub- jects till he alienated them almost without exception, his conduct seems precisely what a most able and unscrupulous anti-Catholic would have suggested and wished him to adopt ; for evidently James had an excellent opportunity of obtaining perfect toleration for his own Church without fear of revolution, had he acted with reasonable moderation. Since its last days of supremacy, in Queen Mary's reign, the strife between Anglicans, Puritans, and Independents had been fierce, sanguinary, and violent throughout Great Britain, and was often accompanied by a HISTORIAlSr. 21 3 spirit of bigotry and sectarian bitterness previously unknown among Protestants, at least in British history. All these divisions the Eoman Catholic Church had tried to crush with a stern indiscrimination, resem- bhng impartiality ; but it had now long been powerless in England, watching with calm- ness, perhaps with pleasure, what some of its bigoted members might consider the division in Satan's kingdom against itself; for the language of many Anglicans, Puritans, and Independents about each other's alleged errors fully rivalled in bitter enmity all the previous animosity expressed by Eoman Catholics and Protestants against each other. When James ascended the throne he perceived that the different Protestant de- nominations spoke and wrote of each other's religious opinions as if they hardly considered themselves connected by a common Chris- tianity. The Eoman Catholics, thougli dis- liked, suspected, and oppressed for years, had been too few and weak in England to ex- 214 LORD MACAULAY. change reproaches, repel controversial attacks, or in any way increase popular anger against them. But the chief Protestant divisions had successively ruled in Great Britain and were vehemently accusing each other, perhaps all with more or less truth, of having abused political power to an extent incompatible with their common Christianity. The old offences committed by and against Eoman Catholics were now become almost matters of history, while the mutual wrongs inflicted by these powerful Protestant sects upon each other were still fresh in the public mind. Now was the time, Macaulay declares, for a prudent Eoman Cathohc king, lawfully ruling a large and disunited Protestant majority, to secure for his co-religionists sufficient toleration to gradually raise tliem to a level at least with their fellow-subjects. Yet even at this time some Protestants of the higliest intellect and education, among them John Locke, opposed tolerating Eoman Catholics, alleging that their system com- HISTORIAN. 215 pletely forbade and precluded its toleration of other religions. It was in James's power to triumphantly refute this assertion, so injurious to the in- terests of his faith, by word and deed com- P bined. Macaulay even believes that had he acted with prudence and fairness towards his Protestant subjects the Eoman Catholics would, with general consent, have been ad- mitted to office and to Parliament.^ But James, in his anxiety for Eoman Cathohc supremacy in a land eminently Protestant, actually reunited the Protestant divisions in a league against his Church as their former and common enemy. Yet, Macaulay says, for some time James and the Episcopalians, or Anglicans, were ' bidding against each other ' for the support of the Puritans, Independents, &c., who he states had ahke endured at different times cruel wrongs from both the House of Stuart and the Episcopal Church. Many leading Dissenters, among whom Macau- ^ Chap. vi. 216 LORD MACAULAY. lay mentions Penn, Lobb, and Alsop, were disposed to join the king, while Baxter, Howe, and others successfully laboured to effect a coahtion with the Episcopalians against him. It is difficult for modern readers to under- stand James's conduct at this time, when cen- sured and warned by the wise Pope Innocent XI., opposed by EpiscopaUans, now the most influential of his English subjects, and gra- dually distrusted by Dissenters, whose ani- mosity to Anglicans steadily diminished as they perceived his determination to estabhsh Papal supremacy. Macaulay gives in the eighth chapter an interesting sketch of the Eoman Cathohc country gentry, who, he states, were far less fanatical than their co-religionists who guided the king, for they were usually on ex- cellent terms with their Protestant neigh- bours. Although sincere Catholics they were thoroughly English in their habits and feel- ings, having no sympathy with the old enmity of the French, or the yet more bitter resent- I HISTOEIAN. 217 ment of Irisli Eoman Catholics against Eng- land. Macaulay says the cabal that soon acquired complete influence over James was composed of ' fanatics and hypocrites,' Father Petre representing the former and the Earl of Sunderland the latter. To James's policy, directed by such men, Macaulay emphatic- ally declares the English Eoman Catholics owed ' three years of lawless and insolent triumph, and one hundred and forty years of subjection and degradation.' ^ The history of these ' three years of triumph ' is comprised in his second volume and ends in the tenth chapter. One of its most remarkable episodes was certainly the trial of seven bishops of the Established ^ The Pope appears to have seen the probability of a re- action, and he wished the king to restrict himself to endea- vouring to obtain toleration for his co-religionists, and the English Catholics to abstain as much as possible from political ambition and from every course that could arouse the popular indignation. He had directed the general of the Jesuits to rebuke Father Petre for his ambition, and he positively refused the earnest request of James to raise his favourite to the epis- copate and to the purple. — Lecky's England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. i. 218 LORD MACAULAY. Church for an alleged libel. The king's anger and the people's joy at their acquittal, Macaulay says, effectually completed the breach between them. Even the Dissenters, who, indeed, had no private reasons for attachment to the accused bishops, yet shared in the general exultation ; the grand alliance among nearly all Protestants seemed to be now effected, while moderate Eoman Catholics, among whom was the Pope's Nuncio, were both grieved and terrified at the revived ani- mosity of the nation against them. This remarkable prosecution of the bishops Macaulay terms an event which stands alone in English history, and was the first and last occasion when the love of the Church and the love of freedom were united in perfect har- mony. Henceforth, at least during James's reign, the Episcopal Church was more popular, more rooted in the hearts of the English people, and more associated with just rights, than ever before. But these feelings, though general in Eng- HISTORIAN. 219 land, were only slightly shared in Scotland, and still less in Ireland. In Scotland, though James was personally as well as pohtically disliked by the Puritan majority, they yet felt little sympathy for persecuted Episcopalians, as the recollections of their own sufferings under them were fresh in their minds, while the long past cruelties of Eoman Catholics were comparatively forgotten. The acquittal, therefore, of seven ' unhallowed prelates,' as some Scottish Puritans called them,^ roused little enthusiasm or rejoicing among them, althouorh the kinof well knew he could not reckon on their support or approval. The birth of a Prince of Wales occurred shortly before the acquittal of the bishops, and these two events, happening about the same time, produced great effect on the Tory party, hitherto disposed beyond all others to obey the king. Macaulay states that as the child would certainly be brought up a Eoman Cathohc there was now every prospect of a , ^ Scott's Old Mortality. 220 LORD MACAULAY. succession of Catholic sovereigns, and this probabiUty aroused revolutionary ideas, even among the loyal. In the ninth chapter Macaulay gives a long and rather sarcastic account of the way in which some Anglican divines began to justify resistance to arbitrary power, and to question 'the divine right' of kings. ^ The Anglican clergy now began to join their dissenting brethren in protesting against absolute power, ^ ' It was now to be seen how the patience which Churchmen professed to have learned from the writings of Paul would stand the test of a persecution by no means so severe as that of Nero. Oppression speedily did what philosophy and eloquence would have failed to do. . . . That logic which, while it was used to prove that Presbyterians and Independents ought to bear imprisonment and confiscation with meekness, had been pronounced unanswerable, seemed to be of very little force when the question was, whether Anglican bishops should be imprisoned and the revenues of Anglican colleges confiscated. It had been often repeated from the pulpits of all the cathedrals in the laud that the apostolic injunction to obey the civil magistrate was absolute and universal, &c., that it was impious presumption in man to limit a precept which had been pro- mulgated without any limitation in the Word of God. Now, however, divines, whose sagacity had been sharpened by the imminent danger in which they stood of being turned out of their livings and prebends to make room for Papists, discovered flaws in the reasoning which had formerly seemed so con- vincing.' — Chap. ix. HISTORIAN. 221 and the unpopular king could not resist uttering what was doubtless in his heart, but which greatly irritated his British subjects, that he could now only rely on the Irish. It was evident and natural that the more un- popular he became in Great Britain the more popular he became in Ireland. He therefore brought several Irish regiments to England, who had been trained by the energetic and loyal Lord Deputy Tyrconnel. Macaulay declares in the ninth chapter that of all the errors James committed none was more fatal than summoning Irish soldiers to aid in keeping England in subjection. Even many English Eoman Cathohcs shared in the general indignation, well knowing the national antipathy of the Ksh to England. This act of James seems to have destroyed the last feelings of loyalty that lingered in the minds of his most obedient subjects ; and soon afterwards the Dutch Prince of Orange pub- lished his famous declaration against the con- duct of his royal father-in-law, in which, among 222 LORD MACAULAT. many other statements, lie insinuated doubts of the legitimacy of the Prince of Wales. Upon this important question Macaulay himself, in the eighth chapter, seems not quite free from doubt, while admitting that posterity fully decided that the prince was really James's son. The declaration of William against James was soon followed by his landing in England, from which time till the flic^ht of James, Mac- aulay joyfully relates the general defection of the country from the king's cause. As far as England alone was concerned no revolution could have been more complete or peaceful. Macaulay, instead of having to describe battles, sieges, and campaigns, is exclusively occupied in detailing the various artifices and desertions of the leading statesmen and generals, and among the former Sunderland was one of the most remarkable. This man's character, ac- cording to Macaulay, was a striking instance of great abilities united to a nervous, un- scrupulous spirit ; he was in high favour with James, having deeply offended the Protestants HISTORIAN. 22 o by becoming aEoman Catholic. In him, Mac- aulay says, ' the poHtical immorahty of his age was personified in the most hvely manner,' and his change of faith was doubtless regarded by some as proceeding more from a desire to increase his power than from any strength of religious conviction. He was certainly James's favourite, at least among laymen. Yet even he in the general abandonment of James, Macau- lay believes, had some share. He could not avoid perceiving the rapidly approaching downfall of his unfortunate master, and from a revolution he had indeed the worst to expect, unless he could make peace in time with its leader. His nervous terror and agitation Mac- aulay depicts in beautiful language and with the imaginative power often found in works of fiction, but rarely in any histories except per- haps the annals of Tacitus. The chief founda- tion for this pictorial sketch rests apparently on the statement of the Papal Nuncio Adda, that ' Sunderland's terror was visible.' ^ ^ * Fear bowed down his whole soul, and was so written 224 LOKD MACAULAY. Yet though Macaulay's description is highly coloured, there appears no reason to believe it much exaggerated, considering the position of the man and the circumstances of the time. While this veteran statesman was earnestly trying to make his peace with the Deliverer, as Macaulay terms the Prince of Orange, a youthful aspirant to both mihtary and pohtical fame was apparently following at this time a similar course. This was the celebrated John Churchill, afterwards Duke of Marlboroucrh, whom Macaulay had previously mentioned in in his face that all who saw him could read. It could hardly he douhted that if there were a revolution the evil counsellors who surrounded the throne would he called to a strict account, and among those counsellors he stood in the foremost rank. The loss of his place, his salaries, his pensions was the least he had to dread. His patrimonial mansion and woods at Althorp might he confiscated. ^ He might lie many years in prison. He might end his days in a foreign land, a pensioner on the bounty of France. Even this was not the worst. Visions of an innumerable crowd covering Tower Hill and shouting with savage joy at the sight of tlie apostate, of a scailold hung with black, of Burnet reading the prayer for the departing, and of Ketch leaning on the axe with which Russell and Monmouth had been mangled in so butcherly a fashion, began to haunt the unhappy statesman.' — Chap. ix. I HISTOEIAN. 225 the first volume, and his remarkable character and brilUant career evidently possess a pecu- har interest for him. In no description of a historical character does Macaiilay show such divided feehngs of high admiration and vehement aversion for the same man. From his introduction Mac<^ aulay seldom mentions him without a degree of excitement in either admiring or blaming him, which is surprising in a writer of his discrimination. He forcibly describes the strange influence, almost control, which he and his intriguing, resolute wife, Sarah Jennings, exercised over the Princess Anne, attributing her abandonment of her father chiefly to the influence of the ' arch-deceiver,' Churchill. This ambitious pair well knew the folly and unpopularity of James, and were preparing themselves to deal with a new ruler, whose strong Avill and powerful intellect rivalled their combined talents in the pursuit of political power. Yet the Churchills seemed to possess Q 226 LORD MACAULAY. between tliem almost every talent and quality to ensure the triumph of their ambition. Churchill himself, while still very young, possessed a capacity for dissimulation and intrigue, according to Macaulay, rarely equalled among veteran politicians. To these powers he united a dauntless courage and thoroughly calm judgment. Of all British statesmen, old and young, Churchill possess- ing so many great qualities was likely to prove either the most valuable friend or the most dangerous enemy to the Prince of Orange. For a long time after William's landing in England Churchill was certainly his ally, using all his influence and ability to favour his enterprise. The whole account of William's bloodless triumph in England and Wales, the utter desertion of James by all classes of his sub- jects, and his final flight to France, Macau- lay relates with a vivid power and interest, partly owing to his own evident delight at ^ the course of public events ; for to his hero's HISTOKIAX. 227 triumph Macaulay's enthusiastic mind attri- butes all the subsequent peace and prosperity of England ; and respecting England alone he certainly seems to prove his case. Not only were AngHcans and all Dissenters reconciled and more free than they had ever permitted each other to be before, but even English Eoman Cathohcs, though suspected and disliked now by nearly all their fellow- countrymen, found that Wilham, partly from j)ohcy and partly from natural love of justice, wished them to enjoy far greater toleration than most of his Bi-itish subjects approved. His first easy triumph in England before assuming the kingly title is perhaps to Mac- aulay the most pleasing part of the whole History. His eager exultation, however, though more enthusiastic than historians usually allow themselves to express, he jus- tifies by appealing to historical evidence, both past and present. He compares with great pleasure the general calmness and order which reigned in England from James's flight Q 2 228 LORD MACAULAY. till King William's coronation, to the strife, excitement, and danger throughout the Con- tinent of Europe even while he was writing / this History.^ According to Macaulay, the I revolution of 1688 in England was in every respect a model — the peaceful substitution of a wise, brave, tolerant ruler resolved to ^ 'This revolution, of all revolutions the least violent, has been of aU revolutions the most beneficent. Now, if ever, we ought to be able to appreciate the whole importance of the stand made by our forefathers against the House of Stuart. All around us the world is convulsed by the agonies of great nations [1848]. Governments which lately seemed likely to stand for ages have been on a sudden shaken and overthrown. The proudest capitals of Western Europe have streamed with civil blood. All evil passions — the thirst of gain and the thirst of vengeance, the antipathy of class to class, the antipathy of race to i-ace, have broken loose from the control of divine and human laws. . . . The truest friends of the people have with deep sorrow owned that interests more precious than any political privilege are in jeopardy, and that it might be necessar}-^ to sacrifice even liberty in order to save civilisation. Mean- while in our island the regular course of Government has never been for a day interrupted. The few bad men who longed for license and plunder have not had the courage to confront for one moment the strength of a loyal nation rallied in firm array round a parental throne. And if it be asked what has made us differ from others, the answer is that we never lost what others are wildly and blindly seeking to regain. It is because we had a preserving revolution in the seventeenth coutiiry that we have not had a destroying revolution in the nineteenth.' HISTOEIAX. 229 I defend and maintain the lecral and natural rights of his voluntary subjects, in place of a king whose reckless injustice, tyranny, and cruelty had justly cost him his. birth- right. The complete alliance between the Pro- testant sects in England against James, whose religion only represented a small minority of his Enghsh subjects, was doubtless the chief cause of the revolution in Enodand beini? so peaceful and so bloodless. Of all Englishmen few indeed regretted James's deposition except the Eoman Catholics, many of whom had long deplored their king's folly and injustice, probably apprehending the inevitable result. Their ' three years ' of religious toleration had, unhappily for them, been associated with an unjust and absurd political supre- macy to which the moderate and reasonable among them could not believe themselves fairly entitled. The revolution not only de- stroyed their shortUved supremacy, but again reduced them to their former position of a 230 LORD MACAULAY. disliked, insulted minority, who though not actually persecuted for their religion, yet endured many civil disabilities and restrictions for that cause alone. Of all King William's new subjects the Enghsh Eoman Cathohcs were perhaps most to be pitied, but they were so few and so afraid of offending the triumphant Protestants of every denomination, that all, from the ducal Norfolk family and the Cliffords to the poorest peasant or artisan, remained perfectly quiet amid the general rejoicing. Yet William's easy triumph in England was evidently caused more by the general detestation incurred by James than by per- sonal popularity. The banished king in fact had done nearly everything in his power, tliough far from willingly, to make his rival thoroughly welcome to the English nation, as Macaulay eloquently proves greatly to his own satisfaction. But Scotland and Ireland soon offered far greater trials both to William's skill HISTORLi:^. 231 and genius and consequently to Macaulay's patience and impartiality. The Presbyterian majority in Scotland, he says, ' rose upon their tyrants ; ' but most of the Highlanders, in whom Macaulay, unlike Walter Scott, can see nothing interesting, romantic, or attrac- tive, were by no means inclined to obey the new Government. These brave mountaineers were now as ably commanded by the cele- brated general John Grahame of Claverhouse, Lord Dundee, as their ancestors had been by his kinsman James Grahame, Marquis of Montrose, and each in behalf of the unfor- tunate House of Stuart. Upon the curious fact of Lowland generals successfully commanding Highlanders, Mac- aulay makes some valuable remarks. He emphatically declares that it was precisely because these two leaders were not High- landers that they were able to manage them so well ; for such was the jealousy, he says, between the different Highland clans that they would never have obeyed one another, and 232 LORD MACAULAT. far more willingly obeyed a ' distinguished stranger ' (chap. xii.). That there is much truth in this state- ment seems evident from the proofs he gives from historical facts ; yet he surely exag- gerates in describing what he apparently thinks the just aversion of Lowlanders to Highlanders. He declares that nine out of ten Scottishmen merely regarded the pictu- resque Highland costume ' as the dress of a thief,' and also avers that a Hig^hlander in his plaid was, in Edinburgh or Glasgow, an object of the same horror and aversion as an Indian in his war paint is to the British colonists of Philadelphia and Boston (chap. XIII.). If such were really the feehngs enter- tained by one section of the Scottish people towards the otlier, it is scarcely possible to believe Scott's statements in his historical novels,^ the value of which, ' even as histories,' Macaulay himself admits ; ^ for Scott declares ^ Waverley and Fair Maid of Perth. ^ Essay on Histoi'y. HISTORIAN. 23 o it was a frequent custom among Edinburgh and Glasgow citizens to employ as apprentices for a time the young Highland chiefs, and between these tradesmen and the clans who trusted them there must therefore have been often a friendly and even confidential intercourse. No doubt, as Scott describes, there was an immense difference in many respects between Highland and Lowland Scotch, and the former being usually poor and warlike, the latter comparatively rich and peaceful, their quarrels would certainly involve plunder and robbery. But to compare their social and politi- cal relations to those between British colonists and Indian heathens is absolutely unfair. Indeed when Macaulay himself says that Highlanders cheerfully obeyed and trusted Lowland officers in preference to their own, such a fact in itself proves that the animosity between Highlanders and Lowlanders could never be justly compared to those feelings of utter alienation and antipathy which will 234 LORD MACAULAT. always animate civilised men towards armed and desperate savages. For no American Indians would cheerfully obey the leadership of British colonists against their fellow-set- tlers, nor probably has such an idea been ever entertained by them or the colonists since the discovery of America. It should be remembered also that for centuries the Highlanders and Lowlanders had professed precisely the same form of Christianity. Even after the Eeformation a minority of the Highlanders, among whom the Argyll family and clan of Campbells were the most powerful, became Presbyterians like the Lowlanders, while the majority remained Eoman Catholics, and a very small minority of Lowlanders also adhered to the ancient faith. Thus the Argyll family and their clan with some other Highlanders had, even in Charles I.'s reign, opposed the High- land majority both in religion and politics, and were therefore in constant league with Lowlanders against them. HISTORIAN. 235 The Highland and Lowland Scotch, de- spite their different habits, custom^, language, &c., had for centuries been united by a common Christianity and acknowledged the same king ; the Eeformation, by dividing and therefore alienating the Highlanders from each other, decidedly inchned them to make frequent alliances with the Lowlanders for religious or j)olitical objects. Yet the High- landers, despite their quarrels both among themselves and with the Lowlanders, could never consider the latter as invaders, or as their natural foes and destroyers, which the American Indians might justly term their European conquerors. Both Scott and Macaulay describe the state of Scotland immediately after King Wilham's accession, and in some respects the Tory novelist and Whig historian agree, in others they indeed differ widely. They each, however, praise William's extreme prudence, justice, and moderation ; and perhaps Scott's approval, expressed mth steady discrimi- 236 LORD MACAULAY. nation, would have gratified the calm, judi- cious prince, as much as, if not more than, the eloquent enthusiasm of his historical admirer. In * Old Mortality,' Scott devotes part of the thirty-seventh chapter to describing the state of parties in Scotland just after the successful English revolution. In this in- structive sketch he mentions three parties : the triumphant Whigs, comprising the majority of Presbyterian Lowlanders and the Highland Campbells who cordially acknow- ledged King Wilham ; the Jacobites, chiefly Highlanders, and a few Episcopalians, some of whom were in arms under Lord Dundee ; and lastly, the Covenanters, who though cruelly persecuted by James yet refused to obey his rival, because he would not comply with the Solemn League and Covenant, binding him to discourage at least, if not to persecute, the Episcopalians who had summoned him to their rescue, as well as the luckless Eoman Catholics. HISTORIAiS'. 237 Macaulay, usually indignant with all opposing or giving trouble to bis hero, warmly declares that the general voice of Scotland ' effectually drowned the growl of this hateful faction ' (chap. x.). But before their ' growl ' was silenced they were rather formidable, for some of them actually intrigued with their ancient foes, Dundee and the High- landers, to restore King James, and had not WilHam ' prudently temporised with them,' as Scott says, their discontent would have soon led to open rebellion. It is doubtful, indeed, if ' the general voice ' could have completely checked a sect so bold, uncompromising, and earnest as the Scottish Covenanters, whose firm zeal and constancy had withstood the most violent and relentless persecution. Their sullen opposi- tion to the tolerant king was probably more effectually discouraged, as Scott says, by his allowincr them to abuse him and his o^overn- ment as much as they pleased, than by either popular indignation or legal severities ; for 238 LORD MACAULAY. Scott states they were ' a sect strong in numbers and vehement in their pohtical opinions,' and if united to the Highlanders under the able and gallant Dundee, their re- sistance to William might have been very formidable. But as Scott and Macaulay both declare, the prudent policy of King William gradually overcame their opposition, ' their zeal, unfanned by persecution, died gradually away, and they sank into a remnant of harm- less enthusiasts,' ^ without the power or per- haps inclination to attempt actual revolution. Macaulay relates Dundee's brilliant cam- paign against King William, terminating with his victory and death at the battle of Killie- crankie ; but the historian's sympathies are decidedly more with the defeated general Mackay, ' the stout old Puritan ' entreating ]iis soldiers not to swear, than with the vic- torious Highlanders ; yet he cannot quite divest himself of some admiration for tlie fallen hero, when recording his last words, ^ Old MortalUy. HISTOEIAN. 239 exulting in his sovereign's victory even at the cost of his own hfe. He writes finally of Dundee that ' his name is yet mentioned with respect by that large class of persons who think that there is no excess of wickedness for which courage and ability do not atone ' (chap. XIII.). Scott, Professor Aytoun, and some other Scottish writers, however, certainly do not belong to this class, while taking a very dif- ferent view of Dundee's character from Macaulay, though Scott admits his being cruel and vindictive, as well as sincere and gene- rous. But Macaulay exposes himself often to the charfye he biing^s against other historians, and against Hume especially, of strong, though not unprincipled partiality ; for in the two instances of Cromwell and Dundee, he describes the latter shootincr a sin^rle prisoner named Brown, and also the drowning of two Presbyterian women by the Scottish Jacobites, with the utmost care and pathos. But Cromwell's cruelties to the Irish were y^ 240 LOED MACAULAY. even by his own showing far more numer- ous, and in many cases equally unpro- voked. Yet not a single instance is detailed, though his Irish victims, Macaulay admits, were in thousands, comprising both sexes and all ages. Such a powerful impression have Cromwell's courage and ability made upon Macaulay 's mind that he makes a few lines describe his fearful massacres, amid which he cannot resist admiring him, and then leaves the subject without giving a single instance of his many cruelties ; he thus avoids deeply irritating his readers against Cromwell, without actually denying or pal- liating his deeds. After Dundee's death no serious resistance was made to William, and Macaulay, in his subsequent sketches of Scottish history, has tlie pleasing task of relating how successfully, tliough gradually, the king's tolerant wisdom ])aciried all parties ; yet this pleasant narra- tive is sadly interrupted by the Glencoe massacre, related in the eighteenth chapter. HISTORIAN. 241 This terrible crime was eagerly laid to William's charge by many opponents ; but Macaulay, who writes on this subject with unusual calmness, gives strong reason to believe that this massacre was the combined work of Lords Argyle, Breadalbane, and the Master of Stair — all Scotchmen of rank and influence. He admits, indeed, that this awful atrocity has ' cast a dark shade upon William's glory,' but beheves, and gives others reason to beheve, that the king never contemplated, or desired in any way, the commission of a crime which could, even in a political sense, only injure his fame without materially increasing his power or influence. In this chapter Macaulay again surely exaggerates the English contempt and aver- sion for Scottish Highlanders, by saying they were regarded in the same light as Kaffirs or Malay pirates are by Enghshmen of the present day. It probably would have been a fairer comparison to have named the Eussians or Turks instead of these ignorant savages ; R 242 LORD MACAULAY for the Scottish mountaineers had belonged for centuries to the very same rehgion as the Enghsh till the Eeformation, when a minority only became Protestant, while a minority among the English always remained Eoman Catholic. They were, of course, very different not only from the English, but from their fellow-Scottishmen, in habits and language. But had Englishmen con- sidered them merely savages, they would have ignored both their religious and poli- tical history. They had all acknowledged the rule of Scottish kings for centuries, though doubtless often troublesome subjects, and when Scotland was united to England under the rule of James L, the Highlanders, without exception, became his subjects as king of Great Britain without the least opposition or discontent. Scott and Macaulay differ very remarkably in describing the relations of Scottish Higli- landers both witli their fellow-Scottislimen and with the English. According to Scott, HISTORIAX. 243 thouo'li these mountaineers were often easfer plunderers, irritable, revengeful, and very peculiar in their habits, they were certainly never viewed by their fellow-Scottishmen with the abhorrence Avhicli Macaulay implies, as if thev were the barbarous enemies of all religion and civilisation.^ Althouo^h Kino^ William encountered fierce opposition from the Highlanders and sullen discontent from some Lowland Covenanters, his difficulties in Ireland were far more serious, and demanded all his military abilities to over- come. Macaulay, with keen delight, records his bravery at the battle of the Boyne, while contrasting it with the irresolution, if not cowardice, of his unfortunate father-in-law. ^ Even wlien praising the Highland scenery (chap, xiii.) Macaulay, iiulike Scott, can see nothing in Highland traditions, manners, and customs either interesting or romantic. He describes the heauties of the Highlands like a man of taste, but Scott describes them like a lover and a man of taste combined. Macaulay, while describing Highland scenery in beautiful language, evidently prefers 'the comforts and luxuries ' of a London club, vrhich he mentions with delight at the same time ; while Scott, when introducing his readers to the romantic legends, characters, and scenery of the Highlands, seems thoroughly satisiied. R 2 244 LORD MACAULAY. The cause of this irresolution Macaulay ex- plains more clearly than any historian has yet done, by attributing it chiefly to James's false position at the head of Irish Eoman Catholics, who detested all Englishmen as much as they did Irish Protestants, viewing them as their national as well as religious foes. Thus they only agreed to acknowledge James on condition that he would undo the work of his ancestors, and restore all lands acquired by his fellow-countrymen to the descendants of his and their conquered enemies. James's reluctance to grant tliis demand, to wliich he at length submitted rather than consented, Macaulay describes with great interest, but he expresses little compassion for the unfortunate king, whose previous folly and cruelty always prevent his deserving that sympathy which his position would otherwise liave obtained. Yet James was soon at the Jiead of a large majority of the Irish, while William was supported by British and Dutch troops, as well as by the Irish Protestants. HISTORIAN. 245 But the dissension in James's camp between the few Enghsh adhering to him and the Irish, who now chiefly supported him, was a striking contrast to the unanimity prevaihng among WiUiam's mixed forces. The spirit and energy of Tyrconnel had, however, enhsted thousands of Irish on the side of James, while the Eoman Cathohc clergy strove with remarkable success to convince their people that all national enmity to an Enghsh king should now yield to Eoman Cathohc interests, and therefore they should consider James their lawful king, thus utterly abandoning all lingering hope of national independence. Seldom in history have the clergy, by eloquence and reasoning alone, so completely influenced their hearers as the Irish Catholic priesthood did on this occasion. Macaulay lays much stress upon their success, and details a remarkable proof in the strange case of the native Irish prince, Baldearg O'DonnelL This man's family, descended from a long line of Irish kings or independent chiefs, had been 246 LORD MACAULAY. banished from Ireland and fled to Spain. He earnestly wished to visit Ireland during the war between the two Saxon usurpers, as he considered both James and Wihiam.^ He had earnest hopes now of regaining the ancient rights of his family, and this idea became known to the Spanish Government, which, being far more anxious, like the Irish priest- hood, to see the Eoman Catholic House of Stuart restored than to revive ancient Irish independence, positively forbade Baldearg to visit Ireland. He, however, escaped from Spain and landed in Ireland, where he found some adherents wishinc^ to acknowledo^e his claims, but the great majority, even of his fellow-Irish Catholics, obeyed their priests by acknowledging James H., while the Irish Pro- testants were hostile both to his relio'iou and race. He also found that the English Viceroy, Eichard Talbot, the energetic champion of ^ *■ No expression used by Baldearg- indicated that he con- sidered himself a subject. Ilis notion evidently was that the House of O'Donnell was as truly and as indefeasibly royal as the House of Stuart.' — Chap. xvi. HISTORIAN. 247 Eoman Catholicism in Ireland, trusted alike by James and the clergy, had been created Earl of Tyrconnel, a title belonging to his own family. Baldearg's subsequent conduct proved his deep and not unnatural animosity against the House of Stuart, the ancient conqueror of his race but now the champion of his religion. Without abandoning his faith he actually joined and served under King William, the conqueror of his hereditary enemy, but not till the contest in Ireland was over. Till then, Macaulay says, he ' kept aloof ' from both parties, perhaps hoping that the two invaders might so weaken each other by a long, de- structive war that he might yet recover at least a part of his ancestral territory. But King Wilham's complete and rapid triumph destroyed this hope, and with Baldearg's sub- mission to the Dutch Prince disappeared the last regal pretension of the ancient Irish House of O'Donnell. Macaulay, after detailing this remarkable 248 LORD MACAULAY. occurrence, dwells much on William's efforts to pacify Ireland in reality as well as in appearance ; but such a task was beyond tlie wisdom and power even of that sagacious prince. In this attempt, indeed, he was nearly as much thwarted by his friends as by his foes ; for neither Irish Koman Catholics nor Protestants at this time understood, apparently, religious toleration, or if they did they agreed in thinking it right to deny it to each other. Thus, as Macaulay shows, the opposition in both Scotland and Ireland to King William, though alike overcome, left the two countries very differently situated. In Scotland the moderate Presbyterians were supreme, but though they detested the Jaco- bites, who were mostly composed of Anglicans and Eoman Catholics, they had no desire to persecute them, as some of the more violent of tlieir party, especially the Covenanters, wished and believed it their duty to do. Scott and Macaulay alike agree in this ac- count of Scottish feelings and politics after HISTORIAN. 249 the accession of William, who, to some extent, inspired, or at least shared with the ruling party, principles of toleration unknown to either vanquished Jacobites or disappointed Covenanters.^ But in Ireland King William's political triumph did not introduce his own tolerant principles. In a moral sense he might be said scarcely to have won a victory, for he left Irish Cathohcs and Protestants hating each other as bitterly as when he landed among them, and was quite unable to inspire either opponents or partisans with his own temperate sjDirit. He had found the Catholic majority almost on the point of ex- terminating the Protestant minority, for which ^ Macaulay says that William wrote thus to the Presby- terian National x'^ssembly of Scotland : — ' We expect that your management may be such that we may have no reason to repent of what we have done. We never could be of the mind that violence was suited to the advancing of religion, nor do we intend that our authority shall ever be the tool to the irregular passions of any party. Moderation is what re- ligion enjoins, what neighbouring Churches expect from you, and what we recommend to you.' Macaulay adds that the Assembly ' returned a grateful and respectful answer to the royal letter, and assured his Majesty that they had suffered too much from oppression ever to be oppressors." — Chap. xvi. 250 LOED MACAULAT. they had, Macaulay says, obtained James's II.'s reluctant sanction, and he left the Protestants ruling and oppressing the Catholic majority. Though he could lead Irish Protestants to victory and establish their political authority, it was beyond his power to morally influence them, or induce them to treat conquered foes with the justice which he was at this time trying to obtain for the oppressed Protestant minority in France. Bishop Burnet's statements, from which Macaulay often quotes, prove how just were King William's tolerant views, though often as little understood or obeyed by his ad- herents as by his foes. In fact he encountered Eoman Catholic bigotry as it were on the battle-field, and in all his victories he prac- tically subdued its spirit, or rather was able to lessen it by the increase of his political influence. The bigotry of Anglicans, Presby- terians, or Covenanters, arising chiefly among his own poHtical partisans, he had to oppose by shrewd policy, prudent temporising, and in HISTORIAX. 251 individual cases perhaps by argument or per- suasion. In a spirit more worthy of the nineteenth than of the seventeenth century, he steadily discouraged religious fanaticism ahke in peace and war, even when that spirit was shown by earnest, estimable men in his own behalf. His feelings in this respect, and indeed his views generally, were far more appreciated in Scotland than in Ireland, after the submis- sion of both countries to his authority. The moderate Scottish Presbyterians found them- selves in the very creditable position of being alternately opposed or blamed by the intolerant of all denominations, not excepting their o^vn, who thus agreed in logically condemning their own toleration by vehemently opposing its extension to others. On this subject the eminent Whig and Tory Scotchmen, Macaulay and Scott, entirely agree, so that posterity have every reason to believe the accuracy of their statements. Macaulay, in describing the celebrated Presbyterian clergyman Wilham Carstairs, 252 LOKD MACAULAT. whose abilities and counsel had great influence with William in ruling Scotland, seems rather perplexed what to say, and his account of him does not seem very consistent. He was sin- cerely devoted to the king, and used all his influence in his favour, for which Macaulay admires and praises him. But he states (chap, xiii.) that ' though an honest and pious man in essentials, I believe he had his full share of the wisdom of the Serpent.' It might fairly be questioned, however, what these very honest and pious qualities could be which were yet compatible Avith a ' full share ' of fiendish deceit and subtlety usually known as the serpent's wisdom. His steady usefulness to Kinsf William in Scotland, and the good service he did to the new Govern- ment, evidently propitiate Macaulay in his favour ; perhaps had his talents been devoted to the cause of James, his serpent's wisdom would have materially diminished the moral worth of his essentially pious and honest qualities in the estimation of Macaulay. IIISTORIAX. 2oo In Ireland, which King WilHam never visited after his accession, those in favour of moderate measures were in a powerless minority, and according to Macaulay the triumphant ' Englishry,' comprising English and Scottish Anglican and Presbyterian colo- nists, tried by legal severities and restrictions to revenge themselves on the conquered ma- jority, from whose fury they had so narrowly escaped total extermination. But Macaulay, who usually describes rehgious fanaticism with remarkable fairness, shows that in the case of Ireland it was far more for the interests of humanity that the Protestant minority should have triumphed. Though actuated by a bigoted resentment scarcely less violent than that of their enemies, they were literally unable to gratify their persecuting desires ; so they revealed themselves in vexatious legal enactments, which could seldom be enforced. But the Irish Eoman Catholics were on the very point of extirpating or banishing the Protestant minority when King William's 254 LORD MACAULAY. victories turned the scale, and suddenly placed the persecuted few in power over the persecut- ing many, whose example they tried, but were really unable to follow. Such is the his- torical picture of Ireland presented by Mac- aulay at this time, in drawing which he shows a fairness of judgment invaluable in all historical narration, and rarely found in those involvinof records of relis^ious as Avell as political dissensions. Throughout this History the English Jews are very seldom mentioned, for despite their great wealth and peaceful habits, they never aspired to political influence. In chap. xv. Macaulay mentions a proposal to tax them heavily after the Irish campaign, which idea was abandoned on the Jews declaring they would leave England if this tax was imposed, but he does not state King William's views upon this question. It was reserved, however, for this century to revive througli- out Europe an interest both friendly and hostile in the Jews, which, for a long period. HISTORIAN. 255 had comparatively ceased to be felt about them. After describing the Irish campaign and the pacification of Scotland and Ireland, Macaulay's last chapters are devoted to King William's reign in England before and after the death of his queen. In ruling England, he, according to Macaulay, found constant difficulty, trouble, and opposition, all of which seemed to increase rather than diminish towards the end of his most eventful hfe and reign. Macaulay relates, with evident regret, the decided opposition of the Primate Sancroft and several bishops to the authority of William and Mary, finally causing their ejection from their sees, which were then assigned to other prelates, whom Macaulay considers more patriotic as well as more compliant. The celebrated Dr. Tillotson, the friend of the new king and queen, was made Primate in place of Sancroft, whose anger and grief at his deprivation Mac- aulay describes without any sympathy ; he, 256 LORD MACAULAY. however, does justice to the excellent Bishop Ken, who, like Sancroft, had been imprisoned and tried by James II., and yet was now doomed to disgrace and ejection for refusing to acknowledge his victorious rival. Both Sancroft and Ken after their disgrace lived and died in retirement. The former Macaulay considers a man of peevish, irritable temper, the latter almost a model of a Christian divine. Yet King William appar- ently neither acknowledged nor valued his high character, or Macaulay would have doubtless gladly mentioned such generosity. It is doubtful if William's cold stern nature, despite his tolerant mind, enabled him to appreciate an honourable opponent, as his remote predecessor Henry lY. did in the case of the Bishop of Carlisle. This prelate had opposed Henry's accession to tlie throne as earnestly as Ken opposed that of William, both bishops adhering to the deposed kings Eichard 11. and James II. Henry lY., however, pardoned and even praised the HISTORIAN. 257 (Eisliop of Carlisle, and this generous clemency Shakespeare records in his own matcliless language.^ It is difficult even for the enthusi- astic Macaulay to prove William's generosity I towards noble opponents, and he therefore makes the most of his tolerant, enlis^htened view^s generally, which were certainly far in advance of his period. Besides the opposition of the bishops, the triumphant but harassed king encoun- tered a succession of political conspiracies in Enc^land. One of the most formidable, Mac- aulay says, was secretly headed by Marl- borough, whether for the sake of recalling James or of placing the Princess Anne on the throne, was a matter of doubt. The influence of the Churchills over the princess was so ^ AYhen the Bishop is brought a prisoner before the nevrly crowned king, the latter exclaims — * Carlisle, this is your doom \\ Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life ; So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife : For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, lli>ih sparks of honour in thee have I seen.' Rkhara II., Act V. S 258 LORD MACAULAY. complete that they first turned her against her father, and afterwards against her sister and brother-in-law. Macaulay's indignation against both Anne (who he contemptuously says ' was as culpable as her small faculties ' permitted) and against the Churchill s is ex- treme, as their plots, intrigues, and frequent ' opposition, though detected and foiled, were - a constant annoyance to William, after so 1 many dangers had been escaped, and pro- bably saddened the last years of the queen's life. After her death, however, Macaulay says that Anne and the Churchills suddenly became friendly and loyal to William, and broke off all intrigues with the Jacobites. For now Anne was the legal successor to William, whose liealth was beginning to fail ; yet more Jacobite conspiracies were formed, which though not very formidable were sup- pressed with great severity, if not cruelty, most of the leaders being executed. Sir John Fenwick, Sir John Friend, Eookwood, Charnock, and others suffered cajDital punish- HISTORIAN. 259 merit ; for to individuals William was certainly far less merciful than to communities. Yet even from Macaulay's own statement some of these Jacobite prisoners might have been spared without danger to the Government. Of course those convicted of murderous inten- tions, hke Charnock and Barclay, were un- worthy of clemency ; but in the case of Fen- wick and others, the highest penalty of the law was needlessly inflicted. The Jacobite cause, as Macaulay shows, was very un- popular throughout England, and only from men capable of committing murder was there any real danger to William's authority. In relating the execution of some of these leaders, that of Sir John Fenwick especially, Macaulay's party-spirit, or hero-worship, is strikingly displayed. When Monmouth was executed by James 11. , Macaulay strongly blamed the kinf^ for seeini^r his victim without sparing him, which he calls an outrage upon humanity and decency. But Monmouth, besides heading a rebellion, had openly 8 2 260 LORD MACAULAY. declared James a murderer, calling on his subjects to bring him to justice as such, by a printed proclamation. Sir John Fenwick merely joined a conspiracy to recall a king once his lawful sovereign, and whom he believed no Act of Parliament could render otherwise. He, like Monmouth, w^as tried for hiijh treason and sentenced to death, yet William admitted him to an interview, while his wife. Lady Mary, presented a peti- tion for her husband's life, but in vain. William was evidently resolved to execute Femvick, and executed he accordingly was. Macaulay says (chap, xvii.) that Fenwick ' found by terrible proof, that of all the Jacobites, the most desperate assassins not excepted, he was the only one for whom William felt an intense personal aversion.' But the only cause given for a hatred so deadly was that Sir John once stared rudely at Queen Mary without saluting her, which Mac- aulay terms ' a brutal and cowardly affront.' Yet this surely hardly equalled the ineults HISTORIAN. 261 offered to her father when a fugitive by some fishermen, which Macaulay considers trifling ; nor did it exceed the marked rudeness which Wilham and Mary desired and even ordered to be shown to the Princess Anne Nv^hen suspected of treasonable designs against their regai authority (chap, xviii.). Yet Macaulay never blames his hero for thus ' outrao^inc^ humanity ' in the case of Fenwick, who gave him far less offence than Monmouth had given to James both in word and a,ct. Indeed, Macaulay cannot resist admiring the ' gentle ' manner with which William received Lady Mary Fenwick's petition for mercy, without mentioning the unhappy woman's distress, though the king never attempted to revoke, or even commute, the capital sentence passed on her gallant and unfortunate husband. In describing the executions of King William's enemies, Macaulay nearly always suppresses details, which would not be sur- prising perhaps, were this silence not such a contrast to the harrowing and grievous 262 LORD MACAULAY. particulars he often gives of executions sanctioned by King James or Judge Jeffries. The horrors of the Bloody Assize under the auspices of Jeffries, the heroism of the victims, the savage fury of the judge, the stern cruelty of James, are described with a force and eloquence calculated to produce the deepest emotion in the minds of all thoughtful readers. But the executions of William's Jacobite prisoners, like Cromwell's Irish cruelties, are merely recorded as matters of history, without details, and the sympathies of readers are never solicited. Though Mac- aulay is an enthusiastic Liberal throughout both Essays and History, yet his strong admiration for certain persons occasionally makes him view their despotic acts with sur- prising indulgence, if not favour. Like Milton, he approves of Cromwell's dismissing the Parliament and assuming supreme authority — proceedings which, but for the ardent fidelity of his soldiers, miglit have caused his legal execution by this same Par- I HISTORIAN. 263 liament in whose service he had first risen to power. In the case of King WiUiam, his other great favourite, Macaulay seems puzzled what to write respecting his partiahty for the Dutch and his desire to retain these foreign troops in England. For in this matter Macaulay's own partisans, the British Whigs — Cavendishes, Eussells, &c. — naturally op- posed retaining Dutch regiments in a country which had voluntarily made William its king, and whose presence made England seem like a conquered land guarded by a foreign garrison. King William's bitter opposition to the united feeUncfs of Enghsh Whisks and Tories on this question Macaulay regrets, while saying that his conduct was founded on a sentiment ' amiable and respectable.' yet he cannot bring himself either to praise or condemn tlie Whig opposition to his hero, and merely says that the Whig leaders upon this subject ' were intractable ' (chap. xxiv.). Apparently Macaulay's patriotism, which 264 LOEB MACAULAY. makes him side with the Whigs, warmly contends with his devoted admiration for King Wilham. He thus cannot censure either party with his usual eloquence ; he admires and respects both too much to condemn either of them very strenuously, so he gently blames, or rather mildly regrets, William's conduct, without praising or blaming his Whig oppo- nents. Macaulay describes the last days of the rival kings, who died within two or three years of each other, in an affecting manner. Yet though James died abroad, a dethroned exile, and William in England, after the full accomplishment of his triumph and at the height of power and success, they were both evidently unhappy men. William, though he had lived to overcome all his open enemies, was doomed to spend his last years among those he dishked and feared more than any of the numerous foes whom he had slain or banished, and his chief opponent was his powerful subject Marl- HISTORIAN. 265 borough. Macaiilay states that ' if WilHain feared anything living on earth, that thing was Marlborough' (chap, xviii.). But instead of banishing him, he was apparently com- pelled not only to endure his presence, but to shoAv him favour and honour. Yet it was Marlborough who, allied with the Princess Anne and many of the British nobihty, had strongly opposed William on his tenderest point — preference for his Dutch fellow- countrymen, and the desire to retain an armed force of them in Enodand. This desire, thoucfh it deeply offended the king's most loyal English adherents, Macaulay considers as little more than an amiable weakness (chap, xxiv.), though owning it was the greatest mistake of his whole life. After Queen Mary's deatli and the de- parture of the Dutch troops a few years later, Macaulay describes the last days of William, who trusted his Dutch favourite Bentinck, Duke of Portland, more than any of his British subjects ; while the ambitious hopes 266 LOKD MACAULAY. of Anne and the Marlborousflis strencrthened daily with his increasing weakness. Through a most eventful life William had vanquished or foiled open enemies with marvellous suc- cess, yet was destined to see approaching with his own death, the future glory and triumph of the only man he ever feared. For Marl- borough, the skilful, ambitious politician — the able, dauntless general, and the dangerous subject, was, according to Macaulay, the evil genius of his prosperous days. He never opposed William till after his triumph was apparently complete, yet from that time till his death, Marlboroucfh haunted him to the last. The indignation with which Macaulay usually mentions him, while admiring his brilhant talents and fearless courage, seems at least partly caused by his constant oppo- sition to his hero, an opposition peculiarly wounding to William because so wary, so skilful, and so strangely beyond even his power and energy to repress or baffle. Macaulay 's splendid history ends with HISTORIAN. 267 William's death, and his friend Dean Milman much regrets ^ that he did not live to write the history of Queen Anne's reign. But unless Macaulay had somewhat changed his views, this task would scarcely have been a pleasing one to himself. For throufjhout her reisfn the sfrand fifjure of Marlborough was still pre-eminent ; whether in peace or war, this man, ' so wise and so wicked,' as Macaulay terms him, was the hero of his nation and the glory of his age. /^ Macaulay 's history, in combined learning, comprehensiveness, eloquence, and intense interest, almost fulfilled his own description, written many years before it, of a model English history.^ It appeared at a time when the British reading public enjoyed the most delight- ful and varied works of fiction, and yet in ^ Memoir of Lord Macaulay. ^ ' A history of England written in this manner would be the most fascinating book in the language. It would be more in request at the circulating libraries than the last new novel.' — Essay on Mackintosh. 268 LORD MACAULAT. V vivid interest, independent of historical value, it rivalled them all. The profound, yet senti- mental romances of Bulwer Lytton ; the brilliant masterpieces of Dickens and Thacke- ray ; the political novels of Disraeli, and the sensational power of Miss Bronte's works were all in different ways attracting public interest and admiration. Among these brilHant works appeared a British History, recounting the same facts and describing the same characters with which all educated people were familiar, yet newly endowed with a vivid interest and a dramatic power rarely surpassed by works whose chief claim on public attention were those fascinating qualities with which Macau- lay adorned the truths of history. Like his own description of Bacon, ad- miring and studying the wonders of reahty in preference to those of fiction, Macaulay both found and displayed in history all the charm and interest of a romance. Thus his historical personages seem as real and natural in both IIISTORIAX. 2G9 act and thought as if described by an eye- witness or personal acquaintance. Instead of imaginary heroes, villains, innocent sufferers, and heroic avengers, involved with mediocre personages, introduced as contrasts to the more strikino^ characters of an ideal romance, Macaulay exhibits the same almost unlimited variety in the men and women of British history. He describes their acts, motives, thoughts, and feelino^s with the keen interest of an author, and usually with the accuracy of a conscientious mind, guided and enlightened by almost every advantage Avhich natural genius, united to vast learning, can bestow. His great error, perhaps his only one of much consequence, seems to be his ardent, vehement, though not unscrupulous, admiration and detestation for certain individuals. Without saying of Macaulay 's ' lierc- worship,' as Dr. Johnson says of Shakespeare's hking for a quibble, that ' it was the fatal Cleopatra for which he lost the world, aCnd ^ . \ 270 LORD MACAULAT. was content to lose it,' ^ this weakness must surely be termed a most serious fault in his history. His warmest admirers will regret that he can scarcely blame some people for doing precisely what he censures with^ truth- ful eloquence in others. He is indeed far too holiest to vindicate his favourites for in- defensible acts, yet his admiration ^for them ^ ^ ■ is so great that he can scarcely, as it were, forcje himself to censure them. He records their crimes or errors very brielly, as if doing "'v^ so was a painful duty, and usually without comment or detail.^ But though Macaulay's ardent admirers will probably ^ admit that he was a warm partisan, yet he was so in the highest sense of that word. His consistent purposes, manifested alike in Essay and History, were to enlarge , ^ Preface to Shahe&'peare. * Let readers compare his brief sketches of Cromwell's Irisli career, and of the political executions in William IIl.'s reip-n, with hi^ detailed and most pathetic descriptions of the cruelties authorised by James II., Olaverhouse, and Judge Jeffries, in proof of this statement. HISTORIAN. 27 1 human knowledge, to calm, and if possible reconcile, political and religious animosities, and to civilise as well as instruct every mind he addressed. In lifis ^listory he recognises certaii\^ persons who, he beheves, have done wonders for the moral and social benefit of the British nation^ and others who, he beheves, both did^.^aifd wished . to do great evil to the best interests of theiF^ country and of their race. When ^viiting, 'therefore, about these people, he appapelitly thinks it right to expose with his utmost pow^ the crimes of the latter, thus leaving a justly odious impression of their characters and motives on his readers' minds. •*» But respecting the guilt and errors of those to whom he ^-believes their country's gratitude is due, he is comparatively silent. Without positively denying them, he appar- ently thinks them of slight consequence com- pared with the immense good these persons accomplished, and thus he wishes that in the minds of posterity all their faults should 272 LORD MACAULAY. ' lie gently on them.' ^ This partiality, how- ever, has been justly blamed, perhaps some- times exaggerated, and made a pretence for underrating the high merits of liis splendid history. Yet despite this fault, arising more probably from the enthusiasm of hero- worship than ordinary party-spirit, Macau- lay's British History is surely one of the most valuable books, not only of this cen- tury, but of modern times. In it are com- bined the taste of a classic student, the knowledge of an accomplished scholar, the varied learning of the historian, with the refined feelings and civilised ideas of the modern man of the world. Indeed the contrast between his private tastes and indi- vidual sentiments was one of his remark- able peculiarities. His mind delighted to re- call the ancient glories of pagan Greece and Eome, wliile in liis ideas and feelin^Ts he was ^ Shakespeare. HISTORIAN. 273 decidedly in advance even of the progressive age in which he Hved. While keenly appreciating classic works, with the discernment of an enlightened man of the nineteenth century, he was able to instruct the most learned men of his own time by his comprehensive knowledge of all its chief events. His great work appeared at a period of domestic peace and general educa- tion, amid the critical world of British readers, and unhke many former histories, was read, studied, praised, and blamed by all political and rehgious denominations. Instead of being chiefly confined or restricted to any particular party, it addressed all his fellow-countrymen, and indeed interested every educated mind throughout the civilised world. Althouoh distrusted by many for its undeniable |)ar- tiality, it became, as it deserved, universally popular. This popularity, according to his accomplished biographer, has increased rather than diminished of late years, as the progress T 274 LORD MACAULAY. of time has confirmed and illustrated the truth of many of his opinions and views.^ It is probable that his history's peculiar and almost sensational interest rather aroused at first a feehng of distrust, its brilliant style being so unlike that of ordinary historical narration, and more resembling the pictorial beauty of romance, or the attractive power of a dehghtful novel.^ Yet most readers find that Macaulay com- . bines every attraction of style and language, with sound common-sense and wonderfully extensive learning. While claiming the attention of all learned and profound minds, he also attracts the frivolous or ill-informed to a degree probably never equalled by any previous historian. When his work appeared the British ^ ' Macaulay 's works are universally known. The number who read his books is still [1870] rapidly increasing.' — Tre- velyan's Life of Macaulay, vol. i. - ' The successive volumes of Macaulay's history were run after as the Waverley Novels might have been at the zenith of their author's iame. Living England talked for the time of nothing but Macaulay's England.' — McCarthy's History of Our Oivn Times, vol. ii. chap. xxix. i HISTORIAX. 275 public knew their country's history chiefly from the writings of Hume, Clarendon, Tytler, and Eobertson, and to some extent from those of Shakespeare and Walter Scott. Hume's great work, though generally admired and read, was censured and probably dis- trusted by many owing to its author's re- jection of Christianity. Most other British historians were comparatively uninteresting. The historical dramas and novels of Shake- speare and Scott mingled real and imaginary characters together with marvellous success, but Macaulay produced a work which without the aids of fancy or invention, yet rivalled even their attractive j)owers, by its vivid descriptions of events and characters, to which it was exclusively devoted. For he was not merely bound by the limits of all his- torians to deal with realities only, but he rejected or despised many subjects, such as legends, superstitions, tales of chivalry, &e., which sometimes relieve both writers and students. He preferred interesting himself 276 LORD MACAULAY. and others by strictly adhering to his own view of actual events and real characters, de- scribing them with all the force and power of a novelist. In his time the admiration for fiction in England was greatly increased by such writers as Bulwer Lytton, Dickens, and Tliackeray, whose delightful works attracted thouofhtful readers from the continuous perusal of graver studies. Some regretted the popularity of these novelists, believing that they conveyed little valuable instruction, and rather wasted time. Yet their wonderful knowledge of character, as well as the intense interest and good feeling they aroused, have finally established their fame. As, however, their novels seldom recalled British history like the works of Shakespeare and Scott, but depended chiefly on the imaginations of author and reader, they probably had a tendency to render historical study comparatively uninte- resting. Macaulay evidently had this idea, often HISTORIAN. 277 regretting in his Essays the dullness of most liistories, for he perceived that while imagi- nary persons described by Dickens and others were as natu]'al and interesting as if they had really existed, many of the grandest charac- ters of history excited comparatively slight interest owing to the dry or tedious style usual in historical narration. Macaulay saAv the absurdity and injustice of such relative appreciation. He knew that no imaginary personages which the highest genius could conceive are entitled to the same interest or admiration due to those great master minds who have directed the actual destinies of the world. He resolved, therefore, in this history, addressed chiefly to British readers, to inchne them to its study by invest- ing real events and persons with all that vividness of description hitherto almost ex- clusively devoted to works of imagination. His success, if it did not fulfil his hopes, pro- bably equalled his expectations ; for since Walter Scott no British author has succeeded 278 LORD MACAULAY. in arousing the same interest in historical characters. Like Charles Dickens, Macaulay appa- rently understood the public taste with re- markable clearness and accuracy. While rather undervaluing the literature of his own time he resolved to gratify the prevaihng love for sensational writing by investing his- toric facts and characters with its peculiar charm. In this attempt he evidently suc- ceeded, as the result proved, for his history immediately gained and seems hkely to per- manently retain general admiration in the critical enhghtened age to which its varied merits were so eminently suited. ON LONION S PRINTED BY BPOTTISWOODE a:«U CO., NKW-STUEKT SQUARB AND TAliLlASlJiNX STKKKT 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. Bfclg ' ^ " ' ' . — Jft^7^ '^ ^ KEC. U.K. OCT 3 1979 \1 acui "* STACKS MTJ _J SEP ?.i iqqs — mi [ 'I III - *~^ SJAi-BQ JUL 2 1 1995 - J AN ^9 1962 (:riFfcuDvrioNOB ^W^ r>r, 1 *A^ ^^■^^ Pfa — 'gp QUI i'/iy/y p^ /53/ ^®*^^^f^-/o/v,- LD 21A-50m-4,'60 (A9562sl0)476B Urn 2Nov¥b» 7663S^ H ).C, BERKELEY LIBRARIES COaSTBDbVl