rdu, horsmais votre honneur, there is no help for it. Le Roi
ne s'est pas encore rendu.

As to Ireland, you have passed over that subject very slightly with
me, but the approaching troubles or danger of them could not be a
secret from me long. As accounts were exaggerated, so I was in hope
no part of them were (was) true, but it is manifest to me now, from
what I hear, that there are materials in that country for the
greatest confusion, tot ou tard. There is a spirit of independency,
and impatience of Government, and an aversion to rule, which has
infected every part of his Majesty's dominions. It is to me
wonderful that with all this he preserves his health, for to public
distress is added the utmost degree of domestic infelicity, and no
prospect of a change for the better.

Charles did not go to Lady Hertford's ball last night, although
invited, in so distinguishing a manner. The Duke of Devonshire told
him that twenty ladies had kept themselves disengaged in hopes of
having him for a partner. Mie Mie goes to-night to the Theodores'
benefit, with Lady Craufurd and Lady something Aston. I shall stay
at home with George and get Fawkner to be her beau, if I can. I
could not parry this off, but am in pain about it.

(214) The Duke of Portland, who subsequently succeeded Lord Carlisle
as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.

(1782,) March 12, Tuesday.--. . . . Dr. Ekins and I dined yesterday
at Lord Gower's, when I received your letter of the 6th, and Lady G.
one from Lady Carlisle. Lord G. and I had a good deal of discourse
on the present state of things, but my curiosity led to know chiefly
how any alterations would affect you in your present situation. He
seemed to think not at all. What may become of Storer, of me, or of
John St. J(ohn) is another thing. These people, by long opposition,
hunger, and engagements, are become very ravenous; and Charles, as
far as he should be concerned, I am persuaded, would have no
consideration upon earth but for what was useful to his own ends.
You have heard me say that I thought that he had no malice or
rancour; I think so still, and am sure of it. But I think that he
has no feeling, neither, for any one but himself; and if I could
trace in any one action of his life anything that had not for its
object his own gratification, I should with pleasure receive the
intelligence, because then I had much rather (if it was possible)
think well of him, than not. However, I am inclined to beli