Critical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Essays; Vol. 3: With a Memoir and IndexMacaulay, Thomas Babington Macaulay, Baron
History
Critical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Essays; Vol. 3: With a Memoir and Index
Macaulay, Thomas Babington Macaulay, Baron
English literature -- History and criticism; Great Britain -- History
the day after the operation, in spite of the entreaties of his medical
advisers, he would set out on a journey. His figure was that of
a skeleton. But his elastic mind supported him under fatigues and
sufferings which seemed sufficient to bring the most robust man to the
grave. Change of employment was as necessary to him as change of place.
He loved to dictate six or seven letters at once. Those who had to
transact business with him complained that though he talked with great
ability on every subject, he could never be kept to the point. “Lord
Peterborough,” said Pope, “would say very pretty and lively things in
his letters, but they would be rather too gay and wandering; whereas,
were Lord Bolingbroke to write to an emperor, or to a statesman, he
would fix on that point which was the most material, would set it in
the strongest and finest light, and manage it so as to make it the most
serviceable to his purpose.” What Peterborough was to Bolingbroke as a
writer, he was to Marlborough as a general. He was, in truth, the
last of the knights-errant, brave to temerity, liberal to profusion,
courteous {112}in his dealings with enemies, the protector of the
oppressed, the adorer of women. His virtues and vices were those of the
Round Table. Indeed, his character can hardly be better summed up, than
in the lines in which the author of that clever little poem, _Monks and
Giants_, has described Sir Tristram.
“His birth, it seems, by Merlin’s calculation,
Was under Venus, Mercury, and Mars;
His mind with all their attributes was mixed,
And, like those planets, wandering and unfixed.
“From realm to realm he ran, and never staid:
Kingdoms and crowns he won, and gave away:
It seemed as if his labours were repaid
By the mere noise and movement of the fray:
No conquests nor acquirements had he made;
His chief delight was, on some festive day
To ride triumphant-, prodigal, and proud,
And shower his wealth amidst the shouting crowd.
“His schemes of war were sudden, unforeseen,
Inexplicable, both to friend and foe;
It seemed as if some momentary spleen
Inspired the project and impelled the blow;
And most his fortune and success were seen
With means the most inadequate and low;
Most master of himself, and least encumbered,
When overmatched, entangled and outnumbered.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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