On the other hand, the “Saturday Review,” then at the height of its repute and influence, vindicated in a powerful article Kinglake’s truth and fairness; and a pamphlet by Hayward, called “Mr. Kinglake and the Quarterlies,” amused society by its furious onslaught upon the hostile periodicals, laid bare their animus, and exposed their misstatements. “If you rise in this tone,” he began, in words of Lord Ellenborough when Attorney-General, “I can speak as loudly and emphatically: I shall prosecute the case with all the liberality of a gentleman, but no tone or manner shall put me down.” And the dissentient voices were drowned in the general chorus of admiration. German eulogy was extravagant; French Republicanism was overjoyed; Englishmen, at home and abroad, read eagerly for the first time in close and vivid sequence events which, when spread over thirty months of daily newspapers, few had the patience to follow, none the qualifications to condense. Macaulay tells us that soon after the appearance of his own first volumes, a Mr. Crump from America offered him five hundred dollars if he would introduce the name of Crump into his history. An English gentleman and lady, from one of our most distant colonies, wrote to Kinglake a jointly signed pathetic letter, intreating him to cite in his pages the name of their only son, who had fallen in the Crimea. He at once consented, and asked for particulars—manner, time, place—of the young man’s death. The parents replied that they need not trouble him with details; these should be left to the historian’s kind inventiveness: whatever he might please to say in embellishment of their young hero’s end they would gratefully accept.