look it out in Macaulay." His private papers, which are one long
register of unbroken toil, do nothing to clear up the problem. Highly
cultivated, however, he certainly was, and his society was in request
with many who cared little for the objects which to him were everything.
That he should have been esteemed and regarded by Lord Brougham, Francis
Homer, and Sir James Mackintosh, seems natural enough, but there is
something surprising in finding him in friendly and frequent
intercourse with some of his most distinguished French contemporaries.
Chateaubriand, Sismondi, the Duc de Broglie, Madame de Stael, and
Dumont, the interpreter of Bentham, corresponded with him freely in
their own language, which he wrote to admiration. The gratification that
his foreign acquaintance felt at the sight of his letters would have
been unalloyed but for the pamphlets and blue-books by which they were
too often accompanied. It is not difficult to imagine the feelings of a
Parisian on receiving two quarto volumes, with the postage only in part
pre-paid, containing the proceedings of a Committee on Apprenticeship in
the West Indies, and including the twelve or fifteen thousand questions
and answers on which the Report was founded. It would be hard to meet
with a more perfect sample of the national politeness than the passage
in which M. Dumont acknowledges one of the less formidable of these
unwelcome gifts. "Mon cher Ami,--Je ne laisserai pas partir Mr. Inglis
sans le charger de quelques lignes pour vous, afin de vous remercier du
Christian Observer que vous avez eu la bonte de m'envoyer. Vous savez
que j'ai a great taste for it; mais il faut vous avouer une triste
verite, c'est que je manque absolument de loisir pour le lire. Ne m'en
envoyez plus; car je me sens peine d'avoir sous les yeux de si bonnes
choses, dont je n'ai pas le temps de tue nourrir."

"In the year 1817," Lady Trevelyan writes, "my parents made a tour in
Scotland with your uncle. Brougham gave them a letter to Jeffrey, who
hospitably entertained them; but your uncle said that Jeffrey was not
at all at his ease, and was apparently so terrified at my father's
religious reputation that he seemed afraid to utter a joke. Your uncle
complained grievously that they travelled from manse to manse, and
always came in for very long prayers and expositions. [Macaulay writes
in his journal of August 8, 1859: "We passed my old acquaintance,
Dumbarton castle, I remembered my first vis