he law, being called to the
bar in 1826, and at Leeds joined the Northern Circuit, of which Brougham
was the leading star. But the law was not his delight. He did not like
its technicalities. He spent most of his time in his chambers in
literary composition, or in the galleries of the House of Commons
listening to the debates. He never applied himself seriously to anything
which "went against the grain." At Court he got no briefs, but his
fellowship enabled him to live by practising economy. He also wrote
occasional essays--excellent but not remarkable--for Knight's Quarterly
Magazine. It was in this periodical, too, that his early poems were
published; but he did not devote much time to this field of letters,
although, as we have said, he might undoubtedly have succeeded in it.
His poetry, if he had never written anything else, would not be
considered much inferior to that of Sir Walter Scott, being full of life
and action, and, like most everything else he did, winning him applause.
Years later he felt the risk of publishing his "Lays of Ancient Rome;"
but as he knew what he could do and what he could not do, or rather what
would be popular, he was not disappointed. The poems were well
received, for they were eminently picturesque and vital, as well as
strong, masculine, and unadorned; the rhyme and metre were also
felicitous. He had no obscurities, and the spirit of his Lays was
patriotic and ardent, showing his love of liberty. I think his "Battle
of Ivry" is equal to anything that Scott wrote. Yet Macaulay is not
regarded by the critics as a true poet; that is, he did not write poetry
because he must, like Burns and Byron. His poetry was not spontaneous;
it was a manufactured article,--very good of its kind, but not such as
to have given him the fame which his prose writings made for him.

It was not, however, until his article on Milton appeared in the
Edinburgh Review in 1825, that Macaulay's great career began. Like
Byron, he woke up one morning to find himself famous. Everybody read and
admired an essay the style of which was new and striking. "Where did you
pick up that style?" wrote Jeffrey to the briefless barrister. It
transcended in brilliancy anything which had yet appeared in the
Edinburgh or Quarterly. Brougham became envious, and treated the rising
light with no magnanimity or admiration.

Of course, the author of such an uncommon article as that on Milton, the
praise of which was in everybody's mouth