For relaxation, Macaulay preferred to take long walks; lounge around the book-stalls; visit the sights of London with his nieces; invite his intimate friends to simple dinners at The Albany; amuse himself with trifles, especially in company with those he loved best, in the domestic circle of his relatives, whom he treated ever with the most familiar and affectionate sympathy,—­so that while they loved and revered him, they had no idea that “Uncle Tom” was a great man.  His most interesting letters were to his sisters and nieces, whose amusement and welfare he had constantly in view, and who were more to him than all the world besides.  Indeed, he did not write many letters except to his relatives, his publishers, and his intimate friends, who were few, considering the number of persons he was obliged to meet.  He was a thoroughly domestic man, although he never married or wished to marry.

It surprises me that Macaulay’s intercourse with eminent authors was so constrained.  He saw very little of them; but while he did not avoid talking with them when thrown among them, and keeping up the courtesies of life even with those he thoroughly disliked, I cannot see any evidence that he sought the society of those who were regarded as his equals in genius.  He liked Milman and Mackintosh and Napier and Jeffrey and Rogers, and a few others; but his intimate intercourse was confined chiefly to these and to his family.

Macaulay’s fame, however, was substantially founded and built.  Sydney Smith’s witty characterization of him is worth recalling:—­

“I always prophesied his greatness from the first moment I saw him, then a very young and unknown man on the Northern Circuit.  There are no limits to his knowledge, on small subjects as well as great; he is like a book in breeches.

“Yes, I agree, he is certainly more agreeable since his return from India.  His enemies might have said before (though I never did so) that he talked rather too much; but now he has occasional flashes of silence that make his conversation perfectly delightful.  But what is far better and more important than all this is, that I believe Macaulay to be incorruptible.  You might lay ribbons, stars, garters, wealth, title, before him in vain.  He has an honest, genuine love of his country; and the world could not bribe him to neglect her interests.”

Macaulay now devoted several weeks of every year to travel, visiting different parts of England and the Continent as the mood took him.  In the autumn of 1838 he visited Italy, it would seem for the first time, and was, of course, enchanted.  He appreciated natural scenery, but was not enthusiastic over it; nor did it make a very deep impression on him except for the moment.  He loved best to visit cities and places consecrated by classical associations.

While at Rome, Macaulay received from Lord Melbourne the offer of the office of Judge Advocate; but he unhesitatingly declined it.  The salary of L2500 was nothing to a scholar who already had a comfortable independence; and the duties the situation imposed were not only uncongenial, but would interfere with his literary labors.