accurately informed respecting Temple's movements during that time. But
he seems to have led a rambling life, sometimes on the Continent,
sometimes in Ireland, sometimes in London. He made himself master of the
French and Spanish languages, and amused himself by writing essays and
romances, an employment which at least served the purpose of forming his
style. The specimen which Mr. Courtenay has preserved of these early
compositions is by no means contemptible: indeed, there is one passage
on Like and Dislike, which could have been produced only by a mind
habituated carefully to reflect on its own operations, and which reminds
us of the best things in Montaigne.

"Temple appears to have kept up a very active correspondence with his
mistress. His letters are lost, but hers have been preserved; and many
of them appear in these volumes. Mr. Courtenay expresses some doubt
whether his readers will think him justified in inserting so large a
number of these epistles. We only wish that there were twice as many.
Very little indeed of the diplomatic correspondence of that generation
is so well worth reading."

Here Macaulay indulges in an eloquent but lengthy philippic against that
"vile phrase" the "dignity of history," which we may omit,--taking up
the thread of his discourse where he recurs to the affairs of our two
lovers. "Thinking thus,"--concerning the "dignity of history,"--"we are
glad to learn so much, and would willingly learn more about the loves of
Sir William and his mistress. In the seventeenth century, to be sure,
Louis the Fourteenth was a much more important person than Temple's
sweetheart. But death and time equalize all things. Neither the great
King nor the beauty of Bedfordshire, neither the gorgeous paradise of
Marli nor Mistress Osborne's favourite walk 'in the common that lay hard
by the house, where a great many young wenches used to keep sheep and