ature.

Did I tell you that I dined at the Duchess of Kent's, and sate next that
loveliest of women, Mrs. Littleton? Her husband, our new Secretary for
Ireland, told me this evening that Lord Wellesley, who sate near us
at the Duchess's, asked Mrs. Littleton afterwards who it was that was
talking to her. "Mr. Macaulay." "Oh! "said the Marquess," I am
very sorry I did not know it. I have a most particular desire to be
acquainted with that man." Accordingly Littleton has engaged me to dine
with him, in order to introduce me to the Marquess. I am particularly
curious, and always was, to know him. He has made a great and splendid
figure in history, and his weaknesses, though they make his character
less worthy of respect, make it more interesting as a study. Such a
blooming old swain I never saw; hair combed with exquisite nicety, a
waistcoat of driven snow, and a star and garter put on with rare skill.

To-day we took up our Resolutions about India to the House of Lords. The
two Houses had a conference on the subject in an old Gothic room called
the Painted Chamber. The painting consists in a mildewed daub of a woman
in the niche of one of the windows. The Lords sate in little cocked hats
along a table; and we stood uncovered on the other side, and delivered
in our Resolutions. I thought that before long it may be our turn to
sit, and theirs to stand.

Ever yours

T. B. M.

London: June 21, 1833.

Dear Hannah,--I cannot tell you how delighted I was to learn from Fanny
this morning that Margaret pronounces you to be as well as she could
wish you to be. Only continue so, and all the changes of public life
will be as indifferent to me as to Horatio. If I am only spared the
misery of seeing you suffer, I shall be found

A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
Has ta'en with equal thanks.

Whether we are to have buffets or rewards is known only to Heaven and
to the Peers. I think that their Lordships are rather cowed. Indeed, if
they venture on the course on which they lately seemed bent, I would not
give sixpence for a coronet or a penny for a mitre.

I shall not read the Repealers; and I think it very impudent in you to
make such a request. Have I nothing to do but to be your novel-taster?
It is rather your duty to be mine. What else have you to do? I have read
only one novel within the last week, and a most precious one it was: the
Invisible Gentleman. Have you ever read it? But I need not ask. No
doubt it has