compelled him to abstain in great measure from going into the world. He bought a house at Campden Hill, from which he rarely stirred, and to which he never invited me, nor did I ever call upon him there. I have often regretted the total cessation of our intercourse, but what else could be expected from the difference of our habits, pursuits, and characters? I have only recently read over again the whole of his 'History of England' with undiminished pleasure and admiration, though with a confirmed opinion that his style is not the very best, and that he is not the writer whom I should be most desirous to imitate; but what appears to me most admirable and most worthy of imitation in Macaulay is the sound moral constitution of his mind, and his fearless independence of thought, never sacrificing truth to any prejudice, interest, or preconceived opinion whatever. Above all he was no hero worshipper, who felt it incumbent on him to minister to vulgar prejudices or predilections, to exalt the merits and palliate the defects of great reputations, and to consider the commission of great crimes, or the detection of mean and base motives, as atoned for and neutralised by the possession of shining abilities and the performance of great actions. Macaulay excited much indignation in some quarters by the severity with which he criticised the conduct and character of the Duke of Marlborough, and the Quakers bitterly resented his attacks upon Penn. He was seldom disposed to admit that he had been mistaken or misinformed, and I thought he was to blame in clinging so tenaciously to his severe estimate of Penn's conduct after the vindication of it which was brought forward, and the production of evidence in Penn's favour, which might have satisfied him that he had been in error, and which probably would have done so in any case in which his judgement had been really unbiassed. I always regretted, not for the sake of Penn's memory, but for the honour of Macaulay himself, that he would not admit the value and force of the exculpatory evidence, and acknowledge, as he very gracefully might, the probability at least of his having been in error. But the case of the Duke of Marlborough is very different, and reflects the highest honour on his literary integrity and independence. Undazzled by the splendour of that great man's career and the halo of admiration which had long surrounded his name, he demonstrated to the whole world of what base clay the idol was made and how he had abused for unworthy ends the choice gifts which Nature had bestowed upon him. Macaulay no doubt held that in proportion to the excellence of his natural endowments was his moral responsibility for the use or abuse of them, and he would not allow Blenheim and Ramillies to be taken as a set-off against his hypocrisy, perfidy, and treason. Macaulay's History is the best ethical study for forming the mind and character of a young man, for it is replete with maxims of the highest practical value.