You know that the Lords have been foolish enough to pass a vote implying censure on the Ministers.[On June 3rd, 1833, a vote of censure on the Portuguese policy of the Ministry was moved by the Duke of Wellington, and carried in the Lords by 79 votes to 69.  On June 6th a counter-resolution was carried in the Commons by 361 votes to 98.] The Ministers do not seem inclined to take it of them.  The King has snubbed their Lordships properly; and in about an hour, as I guess, (for it is near eleven), we shall have come to a Resolution in direct opposition to that agreed to by the Upper House.  Nobody seems to care one straw for what the Peers say about any public matter.  A Resolution of the Court of Common Council, or of a meeting at Freemasons’ Hall, has often made a greater sensation than this declaration of a branch of the Legislature against the Executive Government.  The institution of the Peerage is evidently dying a natural death.

I dined yesterday—­where, and on what, and at what price, I am ashamed to tell you.  Such scandalous extravagance and gluttony I will not commit to writing.  I blush when I think of it.  You, however, are not wholly guiltless in this matter.  My nameless offence was partly occasioned by Napier; and I have a very strong reason for wishing to keep Napier in good humour.  He has promised to be at Edinburgh when I take a certain damsel thither; to loop out for very nice lodgings for us in Queen Street; to show us everything and everybody; and to see us as far as Dunkeld on our way northward, if we do go northward.  In general I abhor visiting; but at Edinburgh we must see the people as well as the walls and windows; and Napier will be a capital guide.

Ever yours

T. B. M.

To Hannah M. Macaulay.

London:  June 14, 1833.

My dear Sister,—­I do not know what you may have been told.  I may have grumbled, for ought I know, at not having more letters from you; but, as to being angry, you ought to know by this time what sort of anger mine is when you are its object.

You have seen the papers, I dare say, and you will perceive that I did not speak yesterday night.[The night of the First Reading of the India Bill.] The House was thin.  The debate was languid.  Grant’s speech had done our work sufficiently for one night; and both he and Lord Althorp advised me to reserve myself for the Second Reading.

What have I to tell you?  I will look at my engagement book, to see where I am to dine.

Friday June 14    .     Lord Grey. 
Saturday June 15  .     Mr. Boddington. 
Sunday June 16    .     Mr. S. Rice. 
Saturday June 22  .     Sir R. Inglis. 
Thursday June 27  .     The Earl of Ripon. 
Saturday June 29  .     Lord Morpeth.

Read, and envy, and pine, and die.  And yet I would give a large slice of my quarter’s salary, which is now nearly due, to be at the Dingle.  I am sick of Lords with no brains in their heads, and Ladies with paint on their cheeks, and politics, and politicians, and that reeking furnace of a House.  As the poet says,