also here and there remarked a little of that unpleasant trick,
which Gibbon brought into fashion, the trick, we mean, of telling
a story by implication and allusion. Mr. Hallam however, has an
excuse which Gibbon had not. His work is designed for readers who
are already acquainted with the ordinary books on English
history, and who can therefore unriddle these little enigmas
without difficulty. The manner of the book is, on the whole, not
unworthy of the matter. The language, even where most faulty, is
weighty and massive, and indicates strong sense in every line. It
often rises to an eloquence, not florid or impassioned, but high,
grave, and sober; such as would become a state paper, or a
judgment delivered by a great magistrate, a Somers or a
D'Aguesseau.

In this respect the character of Mr. Hallam's mind corresponds
strikingly with that of his style. His work is eminently
judicial. Its whole spirit is that of the bench, not that of the
bar. He sums up with a calm, steady impartiality, turning neither
to the right nor to the left, glossing over nothing, exaggerating
nothing, while the advocates on both sides are alternately biting
their lips to hear their conflicting misstatements and sophisms
exposed. On a general survey, we do not scruple to pronounce the
Constitutional History the most impartial book that we ever read.
We think it the more incumbent on us to bear this testimony
strongly at first setting out, because, in the course of our
remarks, we shall think it right to dwell principally on those
parts of it from which we dissent.

There is one peculiarity about Mr. Hallam which, while it adds to
the value of his writings, will, we fear, take away something