The artificial structure of his paragraphs grew upon Macaulay with age.
His _History of England_ opens with a paragraph of four sentences.
Each of these begins with "I purpose," "I shall"; and the last sentence
of the four has ten clauses each beginning with "how." The next
paragraph has four successive sentences beginning "It will be
seen"--and the last sentence has again three clauses each beginning
with "how." The fourth paragraph contains the word "I" four times in
as many lines. This method of composition has its own merits. The
repetition of words and phrases helps the perception and prevents the
possibility of misunderstanding. Where effects are simply enumerated,
the monotony of form is logically correct. Every successive sentence
heralded by a repeated "how," or "there," or "I," adjusts itself into
its proper line without an effort of thought on the reader's part. It
is not graceful; it is pompous, and distinctly rhetorical. But it is
eminently clear, emphatic, orderly, and easy to follow or to remember.
Hence it is unpleasing to the finely-attuned ear, and is counted
somewhat vulgar by the trained lover of style, whilst it is immensely
popular with those who read but little, and is able to give them as
much pleasure as it gives instruction.

The famous passage about Westminster Hall, written in 1841, may be
compared with the equally known passage on the Chapel in the Tower
which occurs in the fifth chapter of the _History_, written in 1848.
It begins as all lovers of English remember--"In truth there is no
sadder spot on the earth than this little cemetery." The passage
continues with "there" and "thither" repeated eight times; it bristles
with contrasts, graces and horrors, antithesis, climax, and sonorous
heraldries. "Such was the dust with which the dust of Monmouth
mingled." It is a fine paragraph, which has impressed and delighted
millions. But it is, after all, rather facile moralising; its