But do you not remember how I told you that much of the love of women depended on the eminence of men?
And do you not remember how, on behalf of your sex, you resented the imputation?
As to the present state of affairs, abroad and at home, I cannot sum it up better than in these beautiful lines of the poet: Peel is preaching, and Croker is lying.
The cholera's raging, the people are dying.
When the House is the coolest, as I am alive, The thermometer stands at a hundred and five.
We debate in a heat that seems likely to burn us, Much like the three children who sang in the furnace.
The disorders at Paris have not ceased to plague us; Don Pedro, I hope, is ere this on the Tagus; In Ireland no tithe can be raised by a parson; Mr.Smithers is just hanged for murder and arson; Dr.Thorpe has retired from the Lock, and 'tis said That poor little Wilks will succeed in his stead.
Ever yours T.B.M.
To Hannah and Margaret Macaulay.
London: July 21 1832.
My dear Sisters,--I am glad to find that there is no chance of Nancy's turning Quaker.

She would, indeed, make a queer kind of female Friend.
What the Yankees will say about me I neither know nor care.

I told them the dates of my birth, and of my coming into Parliament.

I told them also that I was educated at Cambridge.

As to my early bon-mots, my crying for holidays, my walks to school through showers of cats and dogs, I have left all those for the "Life of the late Right Honourable Thomas Babington Macaulay, with large extracts from his correspondence, in two volumes, by the Very Rev.J.Macaulay, Dean of Durham, and Rector of Bishopsgate, with a superb portrait from the picture by Pickersgill in the possession of the Marquis of Lansdowne." As you like my verses, I will some day or other write you a whole rhyming letter.