of the present time has been welcomed from the press with such general laudation and eagerness, or read with such blinded avidity. So popular a miscellaneous writer has surely not appeared in the character of a historian since the days of Sir Walter Scott. And although we must candidly confess our disappointment in the work, yet its popularity is so great and the prestige of the author's name so overshadowing, that we feel it to be an act of presumption and temerity to offer even the least disparaging criticism. And if it be true that high expectation is almost always followed by disappointment, as Lord Jeffrey remarks, it is scarcely possible that any readers of Macaulay's history should not be disappointed. It is by no means our design in employing this remark to reflect upon the general merits of the production, or to depreciate its justly high fame, even were it in our feeble power to do so. On the contrary, we regard it as one of the most brilliant and entertaining histories we ever read, or expect ever to read. True, it contains little that is new in point of general facts-little that could not be learned from Hume, or Fox, or Burnett. But the minutiae of those facts are spread out with taste, amplified, and explained in a manner that must interest even the most fas the enchanting Decameron of the last, written by both at intervals of leisure and as mere pastime, have attained to a worldwide fame, and, as specimens of elegant and pure Italian, have long been preserved as precious and priceless treasures of the literature of the fourteenth century. Machiavelli labored arduously and long at his history of Florence, a work which embodies vast learning and which contains many reflections that afford a clew to his real political sentiments and governmental notions, and by which he doubtless hoped to live in the memory of after generations. Yet it was in the gloom and sad seclusion of a prison that he produced that singular little volume, singular both for its power of thought and atrocity of sentiment, which has consigned him to an eternal fame of odium, and coupled his name with that of "the Prince" of demons. Even Sir Walter Scott thought seriously, near the close of his unparalleled career, of discarding his grandest productions as a basis on which to rest his permanent fame, and even boasted at the well known "Theatrical Fund dinner," that a work was soon to see the light from the author of Waverley, that would throw all other productions from that celebrated and gifted source, completely into minority and secondary estimation. This work, thus singularly announced, was histidious. The concise and discriminative relife of Napoleon Bonaparte. Yet the view of English history, previous to the contrary, as doubtless every sagacious hear- epoch on which he intends finally and priner imagined when the declaration was made, cipally to treat; the learned and methodihas been the case. The biography, except cal disquisitions on English Church history, for the beauty and power of its style, is the nice and finely drawn 'delineations of generally regarded as imperfect in point of party differences in the different ages; the main facts, and as every way unworthy of its bold portraitures of monarchs and statesillustrious author; while the novels,-read men and all descriptions of distinguished now in every class of society with the same persons, either in politics or ecclesiastical interest and enthusiasm as when, years ago, history; the power and splendor of diction, they flew from the press like lightning, the brilliancy of description, the flashes of to dazzle and charm a bewildered world withering sarcasm, the beautiful episodes, -have been long set aside and marked the occasional lovely pictures of domestic for perpetual stereotype. Mr. Macaulay, life, of love and of death scenes full of then, has distinguished associates, if indeed, agreeable pathos and tender associations, like them, he has been weak enough to all these, and much else that might be justly suppose that the volumes before us, bear- added, form a whole of vivid and absorbing though they do, the marks of untiringing interest that could spring only from a labor and diligent research, will be hailed by a succeeding generation in preference to his Miscellanies, as the enduring monument of his fame. But, apart from considerations of this character, it is very certain that no book mind of extraordinary vigor and versatility. But it is not like a history from the austere pen of Hallam, profoundly collated, tersely condensed, meditative, and perspicacious; bringing matters to the test of severe scrutiny rather than of superficial or critical re view. It does not impress with the force of the smooth, well-arranged, and methodical narrative of Robertson. We do not find in its pages the analysis, the profound philosophy, and rapid but digested condensation of Hume. Mr. Macaulay, therefore, must not expect, when the "hurly-burly's done," and when the buoyant emotions of curiosity, excited as well by the pompous heraldry of interested booksellers as by his own great literary reputation, shall give place to the calm and sober reflux of uncaptivated judgment, to sit unchallenged by the side of great historians. That time will surely come, and it is not, we incline to think, very distant. He who has so often wielded against other aspirants to a like high place the fierce weapons of criticism, must not think to be allowed to pass unassailed and unscrutinized. Thus far, indeed, our author has swept critics and fault-finders from before him, and the public has sustained him. The only prominent critic who has inked his pen for the task of review, was so bitterly and unqualifiedly assaulted by editors and journalists, so bullied by Quixotic litterateurs, and so worried by personal attacks, that his effort may be said to have increased rather than diminished the popularity of the work. There were, however, two all-sufficient reasons why the merits of that criticism were disregarded. In the first place, it was put forth at an ill-chosen time. The whole literary world was in a blaze of excitement and silly enthusiasm. Had the excitement been of a rational character, or the enthusiasm been kindled by less furious elements, had the longings of rabid curiosity been in the least degree sated, the criticism might have been received and treated with more leniency. But a stronger reason against its favorable reception existed. It was known that it was from the pen of one hostile to Mr. Macaulay, and who owed him a grudge. This, of course, determined its fate. But the circumstances of the case are different now. The excitement and enthusiasm are fast subsiding. It may not, therefore, be deemed presumptuous to scan the merits and demerits of this great work, impartially and fairly. The introductory chapter of this history is written after the true style of its author. No one who has read his Miscellanies could fail to tell that both must be from the same gifted pen. It abounds with excellent ideas on the nature and consequences of early historical events, imparting at once useful information and suggesting whole trains of deep and improving reflection. Especially were we pleased with the author's suggestions concerning the ancient pilgrimages, the crusades, abbeys, and the spiritual supremacy arrogated by the Pope in the dark ages. From all these the author very clearly and justly deduces important and beneficial results on society and on governments. The pilgrimages caused rude and barbarous nations to become acquainted with the refinements and civilization of Italy and the oriental countries. The crusades unfolded the secret of the benefits to be derived from national combinations, or coalitions between different powers in a common cause. 'It was better," as the author says, "that Christian nations should be roused and united for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, than that they should, one by one, be overwhelmed by the Mohammedan power." It is certain, we believe, that a superstitious zeal and a fanatical spirit saved the whole of Europe, on this occasion from the corrosive influences and intellectual darkness of Islamism. Political considerations merely, on the rough diplomacy of that early age, could never have brought about those immense and formidable combinations which diverted the arms of Saladin from conquests and invasions, and drove him to defend his own soil. It is equally certain that if priestcraft had not in that age been predominant, and literature nursed and cultivated in quiet cloisters, the world would not yet have witnessed the lapse of the dark ages. The sombre shadows would still have rested over mankind, and the lore of the early ages been unrescued from the womb of the past. The spiritual supremacy of the Pope was a species of mild patriarchal dominion which formed a strong bond of union between the nations of Christendom. A common code of international or public law-a fraternal tie-an enlarged benevolence, were among the happy consequences of this supremacy, generally denounced as arrogant and unrighteous in the sight of God and man. "Even in war," says the learned author," the cruelty of the conqueror was not seldom mitigated by the recollection that he and his vanquished foe were all members of one great federation.” stitution, may be fairly traced to a period of time much earlier than the conquest. The Great Charter of liberty-the establishment of the House of Commons-the distribution of civil rights to all classes of free It is to the reception of the Anglo-Saxons into this religious federation, and to the consequent inter-communication between the Islanders and Italians, that Mr. Macaulay traces the first dawn of a permanent improvement in the civilization and litera-men-the preservation of national indepenture of the English people. A condensed and spirited history of the Norman character and conquest follows upon these reflections, and then the author travels by long and rapid strides to the reign of John of Anjou, the brother and successor of Richard Coeur de Lion. An event in this reign which has been generally represented by English historians as disastrous and disgraceful, is here demonstrated by the author as having been the basis of all the prosperity and glory of England. This event was the expulsion of the English monarch from Normandy by Philip Augustus of France. The Norman barons and nobles were now forced, from motives of interest, to confine themselves and their hordes of wealth to the island. They began to look on England as their country, amalgamated with the Saxons, made common cause with the Saxons against a bad and weak monarch, and then followed the memorable scenes at Runymede where the Magna Charta was extorted. Here, says Mr. Macaulay, commences the history of the English nation. Mr. Hallam also, in the first part of his "Constitutional History," appended to his Middle Ages, speaks of this event as having been the first effort towards a legal government. Yet the same author, in a previous chapter, ascribes the date of many of the leading and valued features of the English Constitution to a period earlier than the reign of Alfred the Great; and in another sentence, declares that there is no single date from which its duration is to be reckoned." Certain it is that the main features of the judicial system, and especially the right of trial by jury and the number of jurors, were in existence before the time of Alfred, were further improved by that wise monarch, and were at last confirmed and permanently defined in the Great Charter. No reader of history, it is true, can well question the fact that it was at this period that "the English people first took place among the nations of the world;" but their authentic history, many of the noblest and most admired features of their great Con dence under the ancient line of sovereigns, which some were rashly anxious to exchange for the dominion of France-the definition and limitation of the king's prerogative; all these, however, date their tangible origin and adoption from this period; and, in this sense, English history proper may also date its beginning from the same era. At page 46, (Harper's edition) after asserting that it is doubtful whether England owes more to the Roman Catholic religion or to the Reformation, the author opens his account of the origin and character of the Church of England. Much that follows is tinctured with a good deal of that party asperity and bias which political feeling might very naturally engender in the bosom of a Whig historian when treating of this epoch. No one who reads these pages can fail to discern, at a glance, the political and religious sentiments of the distinguished historian. It is perhaps to be somewhat regretted that the author, in this instance, had not drawn a more salutary and substantial lesson from a complaint which he bitterly utters on a previous page, viz. "the drawback," which English history has received from being "poisoned with party strifes." The author, in the true and bigoted Presbyterian spirit, seeks to rob the church of all claims to that spiritual, apostolic origin which eminent and erudite divines have long labored to demonstrate as being her due. With a disputatious reference to some mere petty differences between her first established clergy, Mr. Macaulay abruptly narrows down and attributes the origin of the church to a motive of political necessity alone, a political compromise" between conflicting ProtesHe will find many, we imagine, to disagree with him on these points. It is an attack against the whole plan of spiritual economy inculcated and held by her ablest ministers. If Mr. Macaulay's premise and reasoning be true, a fatal blow is given to the high pretensions of the church. Episcopalians believe, and labor to prove, that the church proper existed in England long prior to the date of Henry VIII's apos tants. tacy, and its subsequent permanent recog- | plant our deepest abhorrence on Cranmer, nition and establishment under Elizabeth. the hypocritical villain, or Jeffreys, the open It would be as well, they would contend, and shameless villain. Certain it is that for Mr. Macaulay to assert that Christian- no previous writer of English history, with ity itself had no tangible or respectable ex- whose works we are acquainted, has dealt istence until its adoption and legal estab- half so harshly and severely with this most lishment by the great Constantine; for esteemed of all Protestant martyrs who exwhat is most unquestionably true, until that piated their faith in the flames of persecuperiod the Christian religion was held to be tion. Indeed, from the author's frequent the lowest, most contemptible, and plebeian reference to Bossuet, a bitter and bigoted form of religion then practised in the world, Roman Catholic writer, the reader might and scarcely more than dared to show its very well suppose, that, discarding all conface for fear of utter and helpless annihila- temporaneous English authorities, Mr. tion. The insignificance and political de- Macaulay had assiduously drawn his charbasement of the early Anglican zealots, the acter of the Archbishop from the jaundiced Lollards and others who preceded them, picture left by that biassed Frenchman. are not to be used as an argument adverse Even Hallam, who, when dissecting characto their holy, apostolic calling, if we be- ter, as our author himself says in his elegant lieve with eminent divines of the present review of the "Constitutional history," day. English bishops, say they, were most generally draws on the "black cap,' known to have sat in the Council of Nice, deals with remarkable caution and kindness a Council which was held long anterior to when he comes to speak of Cranmer. He the date of Augustin's visit to the British attributes his faults more to the effect of Islands. They persuade us that the flame circumstances than of intention, though he of the Church was burning stealthily but insinuates that the Archbishop might have steadily through long ages of persecution avoided placing himself in situations where until at last, by a concurrence of great those circumstances were almost sure to events, divinely directed, it shot to its zenith amid the tempests of the Reformation. Right or wrong, therefore, the opinions and arguments of learned and accomplished prelates clash directly and fundamentally with those advanced by this great historian. In his character of reviewer, Mr. Macaulay had the full right to advance and maintain such opinions, and none could find fault with him. It was his individual opinion only, and carried no further weight than his personal influence and consideration were entitled to receive. But these opinions and views carried into an elaborate historical work, intended to be used as authority, and as a guide for opinion to future generations, is quite a different matter; and we much question if Mr. Macaulay will meet with tacit assent on the part of astute and proud divines of the communion of the English Church and its branches. His character of Cranmer too, though true as to fact and history, must be viewed more as a caricature than a faithful portrait of that distinguished and unfortunate prelate. If governed by Mr. Macaulay alone, we would be seriously at a loss, in forming our relative estimate of character, whether to occur. "If," says Mr. Hallam in his Constitutional history, "casting away all prejudice on either side, we weigh the character of this prelate in an equal balance, he will appear far indeed removed from the turpitude imputed to him by his enemies, yet not entitled to extraordinary veneration." This is a mild, and, as we incline to believe, a just sentence. If Cranmer was entitled even to veneration at all, he cannot have been considered so bad a man by Mr. Hallam as he is represented to have been by Bossuet, with whom Mr. Macaulay mainly agrees in opinion. Mr. Hallam condemns, as all right thinking men must condemn, the execution, under Cranmer's management, of the woman convicted of heresy, and of a Dutchman who was found guilty of teaching Arianism. Yet these religious atrocities were the prevailing sin and shame of the age, and may be ascribed, in this instance, more to the weakness and intolerance of education, and to the influence of generally sanctioned custom, than to any rancorous or unusual malignity on the part of Cranmer. A truly charitable and unbiassed mind will find much in the melancholy scenes of Cranmer's closing days to palliate, if not to justify his alleged errors and weaknesses. He had been marked by Mary, and her vindictive advisers, as a victim, for whom death, speedy and without torture, was not deemed a sufficient punishment. His grave, unassuming piety, his anti-Catholic counsels to Henry the Eighth, the reverence with which he was regarded by the Protestant world, his equally notorious opposition to Mary's succession, his exalted position in the Church, and his abhorrence of papal supremacy, were all taken into account in that barbarous reckoning which possessed the bosom of the fierce and implacable queen, and prompted her to visit such awful and appalling vengeance on the eldest Patriarch of the Church of England. With this view, Cranmer, in the first place, was committed to the Tower for treason, in September, 1553, a short time after Mary's accession to the throne. In the month following he was convicted of this crime for his share in Lady Jane's proclamation. An inhuman motive soon prompted Mary to pardon him; and then began the first scene in that bloody drama. It was resolved to take his life for heresy, the more to satiate revenge, and to signalize his execution. With this view he was cited to appear before the Pope at Rome, and although a close and guarded prisoner in England, was promptly condemned for his non-appearance as contumacious. His first punishment was degradation at the hands of one who was nearer akin, in his nature, to fiends than to men-Bishop Bonner. Then Mary began with her blandishments and unholy cajoleries. His total infamy and dishonor, before death, was the object of these deceits. Cranmer was visited and entertained by Catholic dignitaries, was treated with marked courtesy and hospitality by the queen's servants, was tempted by every allurement of hope, was courted to his doom by every seductive art. High expectations of preferment were flatteringly held out to him, and then, by way of awful contrast, and to confirm the work of flattery by arousing his fears, the warrant for his execution was shown to him. Cranmer, overcome by a natural fondness for life, and appalled by the prospect of the tortures which awaited him, unwarily fell into the snare. He signed his recantation of the Protestant faith, and subscribed to that of papal supremacy, and of the real presence. Then the monsters of the queen's vengeance mockingly laughed in his face, and were unable to conceal their fiendish exultation. Cranmer at once saw through the plan, and divined his fate. But he resolved to thwart their unholy schemes, and to turn his recent apostacy and his awful death to the benefit of his beloved Church. When it was believed that he was about to make a public confession of his conversion to popery, and when the church to which he was carried was filled with crowds of anxious and exultant Catholics, Cranmer surprised his audience by solemnly abjuring his recent recantation, by confessing humbly his weakness, and by declaring his firm resolve to meet death as a martyr to the Protestant religion. He was immediately hurried to the flames, and died heroically. This, surely, cannot be the man, allowing for all his human and natural weaknesses of character, whom Mr. Macaulay bitterly stigmatizes as "saintly in his professions, unscrupulous in his dealings, zealous for nothing, bold in speculation, a coward, and a time-server in action," and as one every way qualified to bring about a coalition of church and state, where religion was to be sacrificed to policy! This same man is eulogized by David Hume, the most learned and accomplished of all English historians, " as a man of merit; as possessed of learning and capacity, and adorned with candor, sincerity, and beneficence, and all those virtues which were fitted to render him useful and amiable in society." Sir James Mackintosh goes even further than Hume, and no one can doubt that these two were possessed of quite as many facts, and full as much information, concerning Cranmer's character, as Mr. Macaulay. We are told by Mackintosh, when speaking of the primate, that rage survived a public avowal of dishonor, the hardest test to which that virtue can be exposed; and if he once fatally failed in fortitude, he, in his last moments, atoned for his failure by a magnanimity equal to his transgression." The united testimony of these distinguished and impartial historians, united on points which contravene materially that of our author, though, doubtless, collated from the same sources, should serve to qualify, to some extent at least, in the reader's mind, the distorted cou |
