There are a good many pretty obvious blots in Bulwer's book. Why in the name of common sense did Glaucus neglect to make himself a Roman citizen? He, a man of fortune and talents residing in Italy, intimate with Romans of distinction! Arbaces, too, is not a citizen. Rich, powerful, educated, subjects of Rome, dwelling in a considerable Italian town, and highly acceptable in all societies there, yet not citizens! The thing was never heard of, I imagine. The Christianity of Bulwer's book is not to my taste. The Trinity, the Widow's son, the recollections of the preaching of St. Paul, spoil the classical effect of the story. I do not believe that Christianity had, at that time, made the very smallest impression on the educated classes in Italy; some Jews, of course, excepted. Bulwer brings down the Greek valour and free spirit to too late an age. He carries back the modern feelings of philanthropy to too early an age. His Greeks are made up of scraps of the Athenian Republican, and scraps of the Parisian philosophe; neither of which suit with the smart, voluble, lying, cringing, jack-ofall-trades that a Greek under the Flavian family would have been. It is very clever, nevertheless." 66 January 12.-This was the King's birthday. The Court was attended by many foreigners. The King paid no attention to the English-not even to so great a man as the Duke of Buccleuchbut reserved his civilities for the Russians. Fool to think that either the lion or the bear cares which side the hare takes in these disputes! In the evening as I was sipping Marsala, and reading a novel called Crichton-by the author of Rookwood, and worse than Rookwood-in came Verney to beg me to take a seat in his opera-box at the Teatro di San Carlo, which was to be illuminated in honour of the day. I care little for operas; but, as this theatre is said to be the finest in Italy-indeed in Europe-and as the occasion was a great one, I agreed. The Royal Family were below us, so that we did not see them; and I am sure that I would not give a carlino to see every Bourbon, living and dead, of the Spanish branch. The performance tired me to death, or rather to sleep; and I actually dozed for half an hour. Home, and read Gil Blas. Charming. I am never tired of it." Macaulay returned from Naples to Marseilles by a coasting steamer, which touched at Civita Vecchia, where Mr. Goulburn, who was subsequently Sir Robert Peel's Chancellor of the Exchequer, came on board. "He was very civil and friendly," writes Macaulay. "We chatted a good deal at dinner, and even got upon politics, and talked without the least acrimony on either side. Once I had him, and he felt it. He was abusing the Election Committees. 'You really think then, Mr. Goulburn, that the decisions of the Election Committees are partial and unfair?' 'I do,' he said, 'most decidedly.' 'Well then,' said I, 'I cannot but think that it was rather hard to pass a vote of censure on O'Connell for saying so. I never saw a man more completely at a nonplus. He quite coloured-face, forehead, and all-and looked As I have seen him in the Capitol, Being crossed in conference with some senators. He had really nothing to say, except that he had given his opinion about Election Committees to me in private. I told him that I of course understood it so; and I was too generous and polite to press my victory. But, really, a vote of censure is a serious thing; and I do not conceive that any man is justified in voting for it unless he thinks it deserved. There is little difference between a dishonest vote in an Election Committee and a dishonest vote in a question of censure. Both are judicial proceedings. The oath taken by members of a Committee is merely a bugbear for old women and men like old women. A wise and honest man has other guides than superstition to direct his conduct. I like Goulburn's conversation and manners. I had a prejudice against him which, like most prejudices conceived merely on the ground of political difference, yields readily to a little personal intercourse. And this is a man whom I have disliked for years without knowing him, and who has probably disliked me with just as little reason! A lesson. "I read Botta's History of the American War. The book interested me, though he is not a writer to my taste. He is fair enough ; and, when he misepresents, it is rather from ignorance than from partiality. But he is shallow, and his style is the most affected that can be imagined. I can better excuse his speeches, put into the mouths of his heroes, and his attempts to give a classical air to our English debates; his substitution of 'Signor Giorgio Grenville' for the right honourable gentleman,' and cari concittadini,' or 'venerabili senatori,' for 'Mr. Speaker.' But his efforts at naïveté move my disgust. The affectation of magnificence I can pardon; but the affectation of simplicity is loathsome: for magnificence may coexist with affectation, but simplicity and affectation are in their natures opposite. Botta uses so many odd old words that even Italians require a glossary to read him; and he is particularly fond of imitating the infantine style which is so delightful in Boccacio. He perpetually introduces into his narrative vulgar Florentine proverbs of the fourteenth century. He tells us that God, who does not stay till Saturday to pay wages,' took signal vengeance on the ravagers of Wyoming; and that they were repaid for their outrages with colliers' measure."" "Paris, February 2, 1839.—The sky was clear, though it was very cold, and the snow covered everything. I resolved to go to Versailles. The palace is a huge heap of littleness. On the side towards Paris the contrast between the patches of red brick in the old part and the attempt at classical magnificence in the later part is simply revolting. Enormous as is the size of the Place des Armes, it looks paltry beyond description. The statues which used to stand at Paris on the bridge in front of the Chamber of Deputies are ranged round this court. Wretched strutting things they were; heroes storming like captains of banditti blustering through a bad melodrama on a second-rate theatre. I had hoped never to have seen them again when I missed them on the bridge; and I fancied, more fool I, that the Government might have had the good taste to throw them into the Seine. In the middle of the court is an equestrian statue of Louis XIV. He showed his sense, at least, in putting himself where he could not see his own architectural performances. I was glad to walk through the Orangerie, and thence I went some little way into the gardens. The snow was several inches deep; but I saw enough to satisfy me that these famous grounds, in meanness and extravagance, surpassed my expectations; and my expectations were not moderate. The garden façade of the palace is certainly fine by contrast with the other front; but when the enormous means employed are compared with the effect, the disproportion is wonderful. This façade is about 2,000 feet in length and is elevated on a lofty terrace. It ought to be one of the most striking works of human power and art. I doubt whether there be anywhere any single architectural composition of equal extent. I do not believe that all the works of Pericles-nay, that even St. Peter's, colonnade and all-cost so much as was lavished on Versailles; and yet there are a dozen country houses of private individuals in England alone which have a greater air of majesty and splendour than this huge quarry. Castle Howard is immeasurably finer. I went inside, and was struck by the good sense-I would even say magnanimity-which the present King has shown in admitting all that does honour to the nation, without regard to personal or family considerations. The victories of Buonaparte furnish half the rooms. Even Charles the Tenth is fairly dealt with. Whatever titles he had to public respect-the African_victories, Navarino, the Dauphin's exploits, such as they were, in Spain-all have a place here. The most interesting thing, however, in the whole palace, is Louis the Fourteenth's bedroom with its original furniture. I thought of all St. Simon's anecdotes about that room and bed." CHAPTER VIII. 1839-1841. Macaulay returns to London-He meets Lord Brougham-Letters to Mr. Napier and Mrs. Trevelyan-Correspondence with Mr. GladstoneHeated state of politics-The hostility of the Peers to Lord Melbourne's Government-Macaulay's view of the situation-Verses by Praed-The Bedchamber question-Macaulay is elected for Edinburgh -Debate on the Ballot-Macaulay becomes a Cabinet Minister-The Times-Windsor Castle-Vote of Want of Confidence-The Chinese War-Irish Registration: scene in the House of Commons-Letters to Mr. Napier-Religious Difficulties in Scotland-Lord Cardigan-The Corn Laws-The Sugar Duties-Defeat of the Ministry, and Dissolution of Parliament-Macaulay is re-elected for Edinburgh-His love for street-ballads-The change of Government. At the end of the first week in February, 1839, Macaulay was again in London. "Friday, February 8.-I have been reading Lord Durham's Canadian Report, and think it exceedingly good and able. I learn with great concern, that the business has involved Lord Glenelg's resignation. Poor fellow! I love him and feel for him. I bought Gladstone's book: a capital shrovetide cock to throw at. Almost too good a mark." 66 February 13.-I read, while walking, a good deal of Gladstone's book. The Lord hath delivered him into our hand. I think I see my way to a popular, and at the same time gentlemanlike, critique. I called on the Miss Berrys, who are very desirous to collect my articles. I gave them a list, and procured some numbers for them at a bookseller's near Leicester Square. Thence to Ellis, and repeated him Romulus, the alterations in Horatius, and the beginning of Virginia. He was much pleased. We walked away together to Lincoln's Inn Fields, and met Brougham: an awkward moment. But he greeted me just as if we had parted yesterday, shook hands, got between us, and walked with us some way. He was in extraordinary force, bodily and mental. He declared vehemently against the usage which Lord Glenelg has experienced, and said that it was a case for pistoling, an infamous league of eleven men to ruin one. It will be long enough before he takes to the remedy which he recommends to others. He talked well and bitterly of Lord Durham's report. It was, he said, a second-rate 1 See page 213. 2 Mr, Gladstone's "The State in its Relations with the Church," article for the Edinburgh Review. The matter came from a swindler; the style from a coxcomb; and the dictator furnished only six letters, D-U-R-H-A-M.' As we were walking, Allen the Quaker came by. Brougham hallooed to him, and began to urge him to get up the strongest opposition to Lord John Russell's Education plan. I was glad when we parted. Home, and thought about Gladstone. In two or three days I shall have the whole in my head, and then my pen will go like fire." 3 Clarges Street: February 26, 1839. Dear Napier, I can now promise you an article in a week, or ten days at furthest. Of its length I cannot speak with certainty. I should think it would fill about forty pages; but I find the subject grow on me. I think that I shall dispose completely of Gladstone's theory. I wish that I could see my way clearly to a good counter theory; but I catch only glimpses here and there of what I take to be truth. I am leading an easy life; not unwilling to engage in the Parliamentary battle if a fair opportunity should offer, but not in the smallest degree tormented by a desire for the House of Commons, and fully determined against office. I enjoyed Italy intensely; far more than I had expected. By the bye, I met Gladstone at Rome. We talked and walked together in St. Peter's during the best part of an afternoon. He is both a clever and an amiable man. As to politics, the cloud has blown over; the sea has gone down; the barometer is rising. The session is proceeding through what was expected to be its most troubled stage in the same quiet way in which it generally advances through the dog days towards its close. Everything and everybody is languid, and even Brougham seems to be somewhat mitigated. I met him in Lincoln's Inn Fields, the other day, when I was walking. with Ellis. He greeted me as if we had breakfasted together that morning, and went on to declaim against everybody with even more than his usual parts, and with all his usual rashness and flightiness. Ever yours T. B. MACAULAY. London: March 20, 1839. Dearest Hannah,-I have passed some very melancholy days since I wrote last. On Sunday afternoon I left Ellis tolerably cheerful. His wife's disorder was abating. day, when I went to him, I found the house shut up. only to have asked after him; but he would see me. way to very violent emotion; but he soon collected The next |