And in reviewing Henley's Burns he writes, again with the braggart touch of one who may have gone the same rascally road:—
"Spartan law holds good in literature, where to steal is honourable, provided it be done with skill and dexterity: wherefore Mercury was the patron both of thieves and poets."
Touching a more serious aspect of the case, he writes with Patmore in his mind:—
"There are some truths so true, that upon everyone who sees them clearly they force almost the same mode of expression; they create their own formulas."
It might not have been guessed that the author of "Horatius" had the means wherewith to lend to the wealthy; but Macaulay's lines "On the Battle of Naseby"—
Oh! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North,
With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red?
And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout?
And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread?
Oh! evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit,
And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod;
For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong,
Who sate in the high places, and slew the saints of God!—
supply the model for the ecclesiastical ballad "The Veteran of Heaven" which begins—
O Captain of the wars, whence won Ye so great scars?
In what fight did Ye smite, and what manner was the foe?
Was it on a day of rout they compassed Thee about,
Or gat Ye these adornings when Ye wrought their overthrow?
"I am disposed to put in a good word for Macaulay's ballads," F. T. has said.