There was only one way out of the difficulty.  On the 10th of February a Committee of Investigation was appointed, composed of Members who enjoyed a special reputation for discretion.  Mr. Hill called his witnesses.  The first had nothing relevant to tell.  Macaulay was the second; and he forthwith cut the matter short by declaring that, on principle, he refused to disclose what had passed in private conversation; a sentiment which was actually cheered by the Committee.  One sentence of common sense brought the absurd embroilment to a rational conclusion.  Mr. Hill saw his mistake; begged that no further evidence might be taken; and, at the next sitting of the House, withdrew his charge in unqualified terms of self-abasement and remorse.  Lord Althorp readily admitted that he had acted “imprudently as a man, and still more imprudently as a Minister,” and stated that he considered himself bound to accept Sheil’s denial; but he could not manage so to frame his remarks as to convey to his hearers the idea that his opinion of that honourable gentleman had been raised by the transaction.  Sheil acknowledged the two apologies with effusion proportioned to their respective value; and so ended an affair which, at the worst, had evoked a fresh proof of that ingrained sincerity of character for the sake of which his party would have followed Lord Althorp to the death. [In Macaulay’s journal for June 4, 1851, we read:  “I went to breakfast with the Bishop of Oxford, and there learned that Sheil was dead.  Poor fellow!  We talked about Sheil, and I related my adventure of February 1834.  Odd that it should have been so little known or so completely forgotten!”]

Gravesend:  February 15, 1834.

Dear Lord Lansdowne,—­I had hoped that it would have been in my power to shake hands with you once more before my departure; but this deplorably absurd affair in the House of Commons has prevented me from calling on you.  I lost a whole day while the Committee were deciding whether I should, or should not, be forced to repeat all the foolish, shabby, things that I had heard Sheil say at Brooks’s.  Everybody thought me right, as I certainly was.

I cannot leave England without sending a few lines to you,—­and yet they are needless.  It is unnecessary for me to say with what feelings I shall always remember our connection, and with what interest I shall always learn tidings of you and of your family.

Yours most sincerely

T. B. MACAULAY.

CHAPTER VI.

1834-1838.

The outward voyage—­Arrival at Madras—­Macaulay is summoned to join Lord William Bentinck in the Neilgherries—­His journey up-country—­His native servant—­Arcot—­Bangalore—­Seringapatam—­ Ascent of the Neilgherries—­First sight of the Governor-General—­ Letters to Mr. Ellis, and the Miss Macaulays—­A summer on the Neilgherries—­Native Christians—­Clarissa—­A tragi-comedy—­ Macaulay leaves the Neilgherries,