is own family:
his nephews and nieces having no idea that their favourite "Uncle Tom"
was a great man. Criticism, of course, is by no means so unanimous. Mr.
Augustine Birrell has wittily remarked that his "style is ineffectual
for the purpose of telling the truth about anything"; and James Thomson
epitomised his political bias in a biting paragraph:--"Macaulay,
historiographer in chief to the Whigs, and the great prophet of Whiggery
which never had or will have a prophet, vehemently judged that a man who
could pass over from the celestial Whigs to the infernal Tories must be
a traitor false as Judas, an apostate black as the Devil." Always a boy
at heart, and singularly careless of his appearance, Macaulay was so
phenomenally successful in every direction that envy may account for
most personal criticism not inspired by recognised opponents. Those who
called him a bore were most probably over-sensitive about their own
inability to hold up against arguments, or opinions, they longed to
combat.

He was a student at Lincoln's Inn when the brilliant article on the
translation of a newly-found treatise by Milton on _Christian Doctrine_
appeared in the _Edinburgh_ (1825), and inaugurated a new power in
English prose. Macaulay himself declared that it was "overloaded with
gaudy and ungraceful argument"; but it secured his literary reputation
and determined much of his career. He became an influence on the
_Edinburgh_, probably somewhat modifying its whole tone, and generally
identified with its reputation. "The son of a Saint," says Christopher
North, "who seems himself to be something of a reviewer, is insidious as
the serpent, but fangless, as the glow worm"; and the Tory press were,
naturally, up in arms against the champion critic of their pet
prodigies.

* * * * *

_Southey_ received, as we must now admit, more than his fair share of
abuse from the Liberal press, for the comfortable conservatism of his
maturity; and Macaulay did not love the Laureate. We note that
_Blackwood's_ defended him with spirit, and Wilson's protracted, and
furious, attack on Macaulay for this particular review may be found in
the _Nodes Ambrosianae_, April, 1830.

_Croker_, in all probability, deserved much of the scorn here poured
upon his editorial labour (though it _had_ merits which his critic
deliberately ignores); Wilson, again _(Noctes Ambrosianae,_ November,
1831), examines, and professes to confute, a