perfect health, and the little political
squalls which I have had to weather here are mere capfuls of wind to a
man who has gone through the great hurricanes of English faction.

I shall send another copy of the article on Bacon by another ship.

Yours very truly

T. B. MACAULAY.

Calcutta: November 28, 1836.

Dear Napier,--There is an oversight in the article on Bacon which I
shall be much obliged to you to correct. I have said that Bacon did not
deal at all in idle rants "like those in which Cicero and Mr. Shandy
sought consolation for the loss of Tullia and of Bobby." Nothing can, as
a general remark, be more true, but it escaped my recollection that two
or three of Mr. Shandy's consolatory sentences are quoted from Bacon's
Essays. The illustration, therefore, is singularly unfortunate. Pray
alter it thus; "in which Cicero vainly sought consolation for the loss
of Tullia." To be sure, it is idle to correct such trifles at a distance
of fifteen thousand miles.

Yours ever

T. B. MACAULAY.

From Lord Jeffrey to Macvey Napier, Esq.

May 2, 1837.

My dear N.,--What mortal could ever dream of cutting out the least
particle of this precious work, to make it fit better into your Review?
It would be worse than paring down the Pitt Diamond to fit the old
setting of a Dowager's ring. Since Bacon himself, I do not know that
there has been anything so fine. The first five or six pages are in a
lower tone, but still magnificent, and not to be deprived of a word.

Still, I do not object to consider whether it might not be best to serve
up the rich repast in two courses; and on the whole I incline to that
partition. 120 pages might cloy even epicures, and would be sure to
surfeit the vulgar; and the biography and philosophy are so entirely
distinct, and of not very unequal length, that the division would not
look like a fracture.

FRANCIS JEFFREY.

In the end, the article appeared entire; occupying 104 pages of the
Review; and accompanied by an apology for its length in the shape of one
of those editorial appeals to "the intelligent scholar," and "the best
class of our readers," which never fail of success.

The letters addressed to Zachary Macaulay are half filled with anecdotes
of the nursery; pretty enough, but such as only a grandfather could
be expected to read. In other respects, the correspondence is chiefly
remarkable for the affectionate ingenuity with which the son selects
such topics as would interest