ed. He
treats them as he would have put down a barrister trying to introduce
totally irrelevant eloquence. Macaulay escapes more easily. Fitzjames
felt that the essay when first published was merely intended as a
summary of the accepted version, making no pretensions to special
research. The morality of this judgment is questionable. Burke,
believing sincerely that Hastings was a wicked and corrupt tyrant,
inferred logically that he should be punished. Macaulay, accepting
Burke's view of the facts, calmly asserts that Hastings was a great
criminal, and yet with equal confidence invites his readers to worship
the man whose crimes were useful to the British empire. Fitzjames
disbelieved in the crimes, and could therefore admire Hastings without
reserve as the greatest man of the century. His sympathy with Macaulay's
patriotism made him, I think, a little blind to the lax morality with
which it was in this case associated. There is yet another point upon
which I think that Macaulay deserves a severer sentence. 'It is to be
regretted,' says Fitzjames, 'that Macaulay should never have noticed the
reply made to the essay by Impey's son.'[188] Unluckily this is not a
solitary instance. Macaulay, trusting to his immense popularity, took no
notice of replies which were too dull or too complicated to interest the
public. Fitzjames would himself have been utterly incapable of behaviour
for which it is difficult to discover an appropriate epithet, but which
certainly is inconsistent with a sincere and generous love of fair play.
If he did not condemn Macaulay more severely, I attribute it to the
difficulty which he always felt in believing anything against a friend
or one associated with his fondest memories. Had I written the book
myself, I should have felt bound to say something unpleasant: but I am
hardly sorry that Fitzjames tempered his justice with a little excess of
mercy.

The scheme of continuing this book by an account of Warren Hastings was
not at once dropped, but its impracticability became obvious before many
months had passed. Fitzjames was conducting the Derby assizes in April
1885, when he had a very serious attack of illness. His wife was
fortunately with him, and, after consulting a doctor on the spot, he
returned to London, where he consulted Sir Andrew Clark. A passage from
a letter to Lady Egerton explains his view of what had happened. 'I
suppose,' he says (April 29, 1885), 'that Mary has told you the dreadfu