ges,
says his nephew, more quickly than others could glance over them.
Whatever he read was stamped upon his mind instantaneously and
permanently, and he read everything. In the midst of severe labours in
India, he read enough classical authors to stock the mind of an ordinary
professor. At the same time he framed a criminal code and devoured
masses of trashy novels. From the works of the ancient Fathers of the
Church to English political pamphlets and to modern street ballads, no
printed matter came amiss to his omnivorous appetite. All that he had
read could be reproduced at a moment's notice. Every fool, he said, can
repeat his Archbishops of Canterbury backwards; and he was as familiar
with the Cambridge Calendar as the most devout Protestant with the
Bible. He could have re-written 'Sir Charles Grandison' from memory if
every copy had been lost. Now it might perhaps be plausibly maintained
that the possession of such a memory is unfavourable to a high
development of the reasoning powers. The case of Pascal, indeed, who is
said never to have forgotten anything, shows that the two powers may
co-exist; and other cases might of course be mentioned. But it is true
that a powerful memory may enable a man to save himself the trouble of
reasoning. It encourages the indolent propensity of deciding
difficulties by precedent instead of principles. Macaulay, for example,
was once required to argue the point of political casuistry as to the
degree of independent action permissible to members of a Cabinet. An
ordinary mind would have to answer by striking a rough balance between
the conveniences and inconveniences likely to arise. It would be forced,
that is to say, to reason from the nature of the case. But Macaulay had
at his fingers' end every instance from the days of Walpole to his own
in which Ministers had been allowed to vote against the general policy
of the Government. By quoting them, he seemed to decide the point by
authority, instead of taking the troublesome and dangerous road of
abstract reasoning. Thus to appeal to experience is with him to appeal
to the stores of a gigantic memory; and is generally the same thing as
to deny the value of all general rules. This is the true Whig doctrine
of referring to precedent rather than to theory. Our popular leaders
were always glad to quote Hampden and Sidney instead of venturing upon
the dangerous ground of abstract rights.

Macaulay's love of deciding all points by an acc