equired
the life of Old Parr to complete it and the patience of Job to read it
through. The necessity of a hero is a necessity felt by all the nobler
sort of writers. But the choice of William of Orange for the purpose
was, to say the least, unlucky; and the low morality which he had
himself, in an earlier work, confessed as to the statesmen of the period
imparted an additional stimulus to the historian's natural tendency to
be unfair to his political opponents, in the vain hope, by deepening the
blacks, to get a sort of whiteness upon the grays. It has further to be
confessed that independent examination of separate points is not very
favourable to Macaulay's trustworthiness. He never tells a falsehood;
but he not seldom contrives to convey one, and he constantly conceals
the truth. Still, the general picture is so vivid and stimulating, the
mastery of materials is so consummate, and the beauty of occasional
passages--the story of Monmouth's Conspiracy, that of James' insane
persecution of Magdalen College, that of the Trial of the Seven Bishops,
that of the Siege of Londonderry--so seductive, that the most hostile
criticism which is not prepared to shut eyes and ears to anything but
faults cannot refuse admiration. And it ought not to be omitted that
Macaulay was practically the first historian who not merely examined the
literature of his subject with unfailing care and attention, but took
the trouble to inspect the actual places with the zeal of a topographer
or an antiquary. That this added greatly to the vividness and
picturesque character of his descriptions need hardly be said; that it
often resulted in a distinct gain to historical knowledge is certain.
But perhaps not its least merit was the putting down in a practically
imperishable form, and in the clearest possible manner, of a vast number
of interesting details which time is only too quick to sweep away. The
face of England has changed more since Macaulay's time, though a bare
generation since, than it had changed in the four or five generations
between the day of his theme and his own; and thus he rescued for us at
once the present and the past.

It is almost impossible to imagine a greater contrast between two
contemporaries of the same nation, both men of letters of the first
rank, than that which exists between Thomas Macaulay and Thomas Carlyle.
In the subjects to which both had affinity there was a rather remarkable
connection. Macaulay's education r