Whitehall, Dec. 4th, 1788.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
Lord Sydney sends off this messenger with the proceedings of
yesterday's Council. I write a few lines by him, because I know you
would wish to hear from me, although I have, in fact, nothing to
say.
Our situation continues exactly as it was. The prevailing idea
seems to be that of a general dismission, and of an immediate
dissolution of Parliament. How far the examinations of yesterday
may operate with respect to this, it is impossible to say; but I
thought the Opposition people seemed evidently struck and
disappointed with them. If they do dissolve Parliament in such a
moment as this, when the physicians concur in declaring the King's
recovery probable, I am persuaded the cry will be as strong as it
was in 1784.
There is a report, that before the Duke of Portland would consent
to have any communication with the Prince of Wales, he insisted on
an apology being made to him, for some very rough treatment which
he received at the time of the question of the debts; and that this
apology has been made. This, however, I give you only as a report,
for the truth of which I do not vouch.
I enclose you a pamphlet, which you may perhaps think worth
reprinting in Ireland.
I hear as yet of no rats, but I suppose a few days will bring some
to light; though I cannot help thinking that the examinations of
yesterday _donneront a penser a Messieurs les Rats_.
I have not heard from you for almost a fortnight, and am impatient
to know that you receive my accounts; and to hear your opinions
upon them as they arise.
Pray send Bernard back as soon as you can. I cannot guess what his
motive was, for persisting so strongly in wishing to undertake two
such journeys at this season of the year; but he assured me, that
he had no wish to stay any time in Dublin.
The list, which you will see in the "Morning Post," of the Council
is accurate. It makes a curious medley.
James is come to town, looking very sturdy. He is now with me; and
has no other message to send, except to wish you all safe home
again.
Ever yours,
W. W. G.