Since the report of the Secret Committee public opinion is entirely changed as to the result of the proceedings against the Queen. Everybody thinks the charges will be proved and that the King will be divorced. It is impossible to discover what effect the report may have in the country; it is certain hitherto that all ranks of men have been decidedly favourable to the Queen, and disbelieve the charges against her. The military in London have shown alarming symptoms of dissatisfaction, so much so that it seems doubtful how far the Guards can be counted upon in case of any disturbance arising out of this subject. Luttrell says that 'the extinguisher is taking fire.' [Page Head: THE QUEEN'S TRIAL] July 8th, 1820 {p.033} I was in the House of Lords the night before last to hear Brougham and Denman speak at the bar. Brougham's speech was uncommonly clever, very insolent, and parts of it very eloquent. A very amusing episode was furnished by the Bishop of Exeter, who moved that the counsel should withdraw, and then asked the House whether they were not out of order. Lord Holland cut him up in the most beautiful style, and excited universal laughter. Nobody came to the assistance of the Bishop, and the counsel were called in again and resumed. Brougham's speech is reported in the 'Morning Chronicle' of yesterday word for word. July 14th, 1820 {p.033} I have been at Newmarket, where I had the first fortunate turn this year. The conversation about the Queen begins to subside; everybody seems to agree that it is a great injustice not to allow her lists of the witnesses; the excuse that it is not usual is bad, for the proceedings are anomalous altogether, and it is absurd to attempt to adhere to precedent; here there are no precedents and no analogies to guide to a decision. London is drawing to a close, but in August it will be very full, as all the Peers must be here. They say the trial will last six months. Luttrell's poem[44] has succeeded. The approbation it receives is general but qualified; in fact, it was difficult to make such a sketch of life and manners sufficiently piquant without the infusion of a little satire, and his fear of giving offence has induced him to be so good-natured that he is occasionally rather insipid. 'Il y a des tracasseries de société.' I cannot record them, though perhaps years hence, when I may look over what I now write, I might be amused with stories of long-forgotten jealousies and various interests extinguished by the lapse of time, or perhaps silenced in the grave; still it would be melancholy to retrace the days of my youth and to bring before my imagination the blooming faces and the gaiety and brilliancy of those who once shone the meteors of society, but who would then be so changed in form and mind, and with myself rapidly descending to our last home. [44] [Mr. Luttrell's 'Advice to Julia,' published in 1820.]