They talked about —­’s marriage.  Lady Holland vehemently defended the match; and, when Allen said that —­ had caught a Tartar, she quite went off into one of her tantrums:  “She a Tartar!  Such a charming girl a Tartar!  He is a very happy man, and your language is insufferable:  insufferable, Mr. Allen.”  Lord Grey had all the trouble in the world to appease her.  His influence, however, is very great.  He prevailed on her to receive Allen again into favour, and to let Lord Holland have a slice of melon, for which he had been petitioning most piteously, but which she had steadily refused on account of his gout.  Lord Holland thanked Lord Grey for his intercession..  “Ah, Lord Grey, I wish you were always here.  It is a fine thing to be Prime Minister.”  This tattle is worth nothing, except to show how much the people whose names will fill the history of our times resemble, in all essential matters, the quiet folks who live in Mecklenburg Square and Brunswick Square.

I slept in the room which was poor Mackintosh’s.  The next day, Sunday, —­ came to dinner.  He scarcely ever speaks in the society of Holland House.  Rogers, who is the bitterest and most cynical observer of little traits of character that ever I knew-, once said to me of him:  “Observe that man.  He never talks to men; he never talks to girls; but, when he can get into a circle of old tabbies, he is just in his element.  He will sit clacking with an old woman for hours together.  That always settles my opinion of a young fellow.”

I am delighted to find that you like my review on Mirabeau, though I am angry with Margaret for grumbling at my Scriptural allusions, and still more angry with Nancy for denying my insight into character.  It is one of my strong points.  If she knew how far I see into hers, she would he ready to hang herself.  Ever yours

T. B. M.

To Hannah and Margaret Macaulay.

London:  August 16, 1832,

My dear Sisters,—­We begin to see a hope of liberation.  To-morrow, or on Saturday at furthest, the hope to finish our business.  I did not reach home till four this morning, after a most fatiguing and yet rather amusing night.  What passed will not find its way into the papers, as the gallery was locked during most of the time.  So I will tell you the story.

There is a bill before the House prohibiting those processions of Orangemen which have excited a good deal of irritation in Ireland.  This bill was committed yesterday night.  Shaw, the Recorder of Dublin, an honest man enough, but a bitter Protestant fanatic, complained that it should be brought forward so late in the Session.  Several of his friends, he said, had left London believing that the measure had been abandoned.  It appeared, however, that Stanley and Lord Althorp had given fair notice of their intention; so that, if the absent members had been mistaken, the fault was their own; and the House was for going on.  Shaw said warmly that he would