t divide on any future stage of the bill."
We were all heartily pleased with these events; for the truth was that
the seventeen divisions occupied less time than a real hard debate would
have done, and were infinitely more amusing. The oddest part of the
business is that Shaw's frank good-natured way of proceeding, absurd as
it was, has made him popular. He was never so great a favourite with
the House as after harassing it for two or three hours with the most
frivolous opposition. This is a curious trait of the House of Commons.
Perhaps you will find this long story, which I have not time to read
over again, very stupid and unintelligible. But I have thought it my
duty to set before you the evil consequences of making vows rashly, and
adhering to them superstitiously; for in truth, my Christian brethren,
or rather my Christian sisters, let us consider &c. &c. &c.

But I reserve the sermon on promises, which I had to preach, for another
occasion.

Ever yours

T. B. M.

To Hannah and Margaret Macaulay

London: August 17, 1832.

My dear Sisters,--I brought down my story of Holland House to dinnertime
on Saturday evening. To resume my narrative, I slept there on Sunday
night. On Monday morning, after breakfast, I walked to town with
Luttrell, whom I found a delightful companion. Before we went, we sate
and chatted with Lord Holland in the library for a quarter of an hour.
He was very entertaining. He gave us an account of a visit which he paid
long ago to the Court of Denmark; and of King Christian, the madman, who
was at last deprived of all real share in the government on account of
his infirmity. "Such a Tom of Bedlam I never saw," said Lord Holland.
"One day the Neapolitan Ambassador came to the levee, and made a
profound bow to his Majesty. His Majesty bowed still lower. The
Neapolitan bowed down his head almost to the ground; when, behold! the
King clapped his hands on his Excellency's shoulders, and jumped over
him like a boy playing at leap-frog. Another day the English Ambassador
was sitting opposite the King at dinner. His Majesty asked him to take
wine. The glasses were filled. The Ambassador bowed, and put the wine to
his lips. The King grinned hideously and threw his wine into the face of
one of the footmen. The other guests kept the most profound gravity;
but the Englishman, who had but lately come to Copenhagen, though a
practised diplomatist, could not help giving some signs of astonishment.
The Kin