CHAPTER XII. 1848-1852. Extracts from Macaulay's diary-Herodotus-Mr. Roebuck— Anticipations of failure and success-Appearance of the History-Progress of the sale The Duke of WellingtonLord Palmerston-Letters to Mr. Ellis-Lord Brougham on Euripides Macaulay is elected Lord Rector of Glasgow University-His inaugural address-Good resolutionsCroker-Dr. Parr-The Historical Professorship at Cambridge-Byron-Tour in Ireland-Althorp-Lord Sidmouth -Lord Thurlow-Death of Jeffrey-Mr. Richmond's portrait of Macaulay-Dinner at the Palace-Robert Montgomery-Death of Sir Robert Peel-The Prelude-Ventnor -Letters to Mr. Ellis--Plautus-Fra Paolo-Gibbon-The Papal Bull-Death of Henry Hallam-Porson's Letters to Archdeacon Travis-Charles Mathews-Windsor CastleMacaulay sets up his carriage-Opening of the great Exhibition of 1851-Cobbett-Malvern-Letters to Mr. EllisWilhelm Meister-The battle of Worcester-Palmerston leaves the Foreign Office-Macaulay refuses an offer of the Cabinet Windsor Castle-King John-Scene of the Assassination Plot-Royal Academy dinner. "NOVEMBER 18, 1848. Albany.—After the lapse of more than nine years, I begin my journal again.1 1 It must be remembered that whatever was in Macaulay's mind may be found in his diary. That diary was written, throughout, with the unconscious candour of a man who freely and frankly notes down remarks which he expects to be read by himself alone; and with the copiousness natural to one who, except where it was demanded for the purpose of literary effect, did not willingly compress anything which he had to say. It may, therefore, be hoped that the extracts pre- What a change! I have been, since the last lines were written, a member of two Parliaments, and of two Cabinets. I have published several volumes with success. I have escaped from Parliament, and am living in the way best suited to my temper. I lead a college life in London, with the comforts of domestic life near me; for Hannah and her children are very dear to me. I have an easy fortune. I have finished the first two volumes of my History. Yesterday the last sheets went to America, and within a fortnight, I hope, the publication will take place in London. I am pretty well satisfied. As compared with excellence, the work is a failure: but as compared with other similar books I cannot think it so. We shall soon know what the world says. To-day I enjoyed my new liberty, after having been most severely worked during three months in finishing my History and correcting proofs. I rose at half after nine, read at breakfast Fearon's Sketches of America, and then finished Lucian's critique on the bad historians of his time, and felt my own withers unwrung. Ellis came to dinner at seven. I gave him a lobster curry, woodcock, and macaroni. I think that I will note dinners as honest Pepys did." 66 Monday, November 20.-Read Pepys at breakfast, and then sate down to Herodotus, and finished Melpomene at a sitting. I went out, looked into the Athenæum, and walked about the streets for some time; came home, and read Terpsichore, and began Erato. I never went through Herodotus at such a pace before. He is an admirable artist in many respects; but undoubtedly his arrangement is faulty." "November 23.-I received to-day a translation of Kant from Ellis's friend at Liverpool. I tried to read it, but found it utterly unintelligible, just as if it had been written in Sanscrit. Not one word of it gave me anything like an idea except a Latin quota tion from Persius. It seems to me that it ought to be possible to explain a true theory of metaphysics in words which I can understand. I can understand Locke, and Berkeley, and Hume, and Reid, and Stewart. I can understand Cicero's Academics, and most of Plato and it seems odd that in a book on the elements of metaphysics by a Liverpool merchant I should not be able to comprehend a word. I wrote my acknowledgments with a little touch of the Socratic irony. "Roebuck called, and talked to me about the West Riding. He asked me to stand. I told him that it was quite out of the question; that I had made up my mind never again to make the smallest concession to fanatical clamour on the subject of Papal endowment. I would not certainly advise the Government to propose such endowment, but I would say nothing tending to flatter the absurd prejudices which exist on that subject. I thanked him for his goodwill, and asked him to breakfast on Monday. I find that Macculloch and Hastie have a wager on the sale of my History. Macculloch has betted that it will sell better than Lord Campbell's book. Hastie bets on Lord Campbell. Green of Longman's house is to be arbiter." "November 25.-Read my book while dressing, and thought it better than Campbell's, with all deference to Mr. Hastie. But these things are a strange lottery. After breakfast I went to the British Museum. I was in the chair. It is a stupid, useless way of doing business. An hour was lost in reading trashy minutes. All boards are bad, and this is the worst of boards. If I live, I will see whether I cannot work a reform here. Home, and read Thucydides. I admire him more than ever. He is the great historian. The others one may hope to match: him, never." "November 29, 1848, Wednesday.—I was shocked to learn the death of poor Charles Buller. It took me quite by surprise. I could almost cry for him.' I found copies of my History on my table. The suspense must now soon be over. I read my book, and Thucydides's, which, I am sorry to say, I found much better than mine." "November 30.-Tufnell 2 sent for me, and proposed Liskeard to me. I hesitated; and went home, leaving the matter doubtful. Roebuck called at near seven to ask about my intentions, as he had also been thought of. This at once decided me; and I said that I would not stand, and wrote to Tufnell telling him so. Roebuck has on more than one occasion behaved to me with great kindness and generosity; and I did not choose to stand in his way." "December 4, 1848.-Stayed at home all the day, making corrections for the second edition. Shaw, the printer, came to tell me that they are wanted with speed, and that the first edition of 3,000 is nearly out. Then I read the eighth book of Thucydides. On the whole he is the first of historians. What is good in him is better than anything that can be found elsewhere. But his dry parts are dreadfully dry; and his arrangement is bad. Mere chronological order is not the order for a complicated narrative. "In Parliament I shall look in vain for virtues which I loved, and for abilities which I admired. Often in debate, and never more than when we discuss those questions of colonial policy which are every day acquiring a new importance, I shall remember with regret how much eloquence and wit, how much acuteness and knowledge, how many engaging qualities, how many fair hopes, are buried in the grave of poor Charles Buller."-Macaulay's Speech at Edinburgh in 1852. 2 Mr. Tufnell was then Patronage Secretary, or, in more familiar parlance, Treasury Whip. "I have felt to-day somewhat anxious about the fate of my book. The sale has surpassed expectation: but that proves only that people have formed a high idea of what they are to have. The disappointment, if there is disappointment, will be great. All that I hear is laudatory. But who can trust to praise which is poured into his own ear? At all events, I have aimed high; I have tried to do something that may be remembered; I have had the year 2000, and even the year 3000, often in my mind; I have sacrificed nothing to temporary fashions of thought and style ; and, if I fail, my failure will be more honourable than nine-tenths of the successes that I have witnessed." "December 12, 1848.-Longman called. A new edition of 3,000 copies is preparing as fast as they can work. I have reason to be pleased. Of the Lay of the Last Minstrel two thousand two hundred and fifty copies were sold in the first year; of Marmion two thousand copies in the first month; of my book three thousand copies in ten days. Black says that there has been no such sale since the days of Waverley. The success is in every way complete beyond all hope, and is the more agreeable to me because expectation had been wound up so high that disappointment was almost inevitable. I think, though with some misgivings, that the book will live. I put two volumes of Foote into my pockets, and walked to Clapham. They were reading my book again. How happy their praise made me, and how little by comparison I care for any other praise! A quiet, happy, affectionate evening. Mr. Conybeare makes a criticism, in which Hannah seems to agree, that I sometimes repeat myself. I suspect there is truth in this. Yet it is very hard to know what to do. If an important principle is laid down only once, it is unnoticed or forgotten by dull readers, who are the |