the House of Lords last night: Lord Holland's motion on
Greece; his speech was amusing, but not so good as he generally
is; Aberdeen wretched, the worst speaker I ever heard and
incapable of a reply; I had no idea he was so bad. The Duke made
a very clever speech, answering Holland and Melbourne, availing
himself with great dexterity of the vulnerable parts of their
speeches and leaving the rest alone. I was sitting by Robert
Grant on the steps of the throne, and said to him, 'That is a
good speech of the Duke's,' and he said, 'He speaks like a great
man;' and so he did; it was bold and manly, and a high tone, not
like a practised debater, but a man with a vigorous mind and
determined character.

In the House of Commons Graham spoke for two hours; Burdett said
not well, but others said the contrary. The Government resolution
moved as an amendment by Dawson was better than his, so it was
adopted without difficulty. Burdett said Peel made the best
speech he ever heard him make, and threw over the Tories. Dined
afterwards with Cowper, Durham, and Glengall. Durham said that
Lord Grey's politics were the same as his, and that before Easter
he thought an Opposition would be formed, and that the elements,
though scattered, exist of a strong one. I doubt it.

[Page Head: THE ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE BURNT]

February 16th, 1830 {p.277}

Last night the English Opera House was burnt down--a magnificent
fire. I was playing at whist at the 'Travellers' with Lord
Granville, Lord Auckland, and Ross, when we saw the whole sky
illuminated and a volume of fire rising in the air. We thought it
was Covent Garden, and directly set off to the spot. We found the
Opera House and several houses in Catherine Street on fire
(sixteen houses), and, though it was three in the morning, the
streets filled by an immense multitude. Nothing could be more
picturesque than the scene, for the flames made it as light as
day and threw a glare upon the strange and motley figures moving
about. All the gentility of London was there from Princess
Esterhazy's ball and all the clubs; gentlemen in their fur
cloaks, pumps, and velvet waistcoats mixed with objects like the
_sans-culottes_ in the French Revolution--men and women
half-dressed, covered with rags and dirt, some with nightcaps or
handkerchiefs round their heads--then the soldiers, the firemen,
and the engines, and the new police running and bustling, and
clearing the way, and clattering along, and all