Illness has prevented my answering your letter; an
epidemic cold attended with fever has borne very hard upon my family. My eldest
son has been very near death, and I have been myself confined to my bed, and am
still obliged to keep the house, with the usual consolatory reflections that I
am no worse off than other people, &c., &c. If the miseries of others
were to render us satisfied with our own lot, no one would have a right to
complain. You remember La
| 234 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. |
I shall be very glad to see you when you are in Dublin. Two gentlemen of my acquaintance have added to my wish to know you, and yet they certainly saw you in society unsuited to you, and which I am sure chance alone could have thrown you into. My daughter has been taught music and still continues to learn, but has not, I think, any decided taste or talent for it—both my sons have; the eldest son is a student in Trinity College, plays the harp finely and is also an excellent performer on the pianoforte; for him I shall thank you for the Irish air you mention. No music more than the Irish bears the stamp of originality; none speak more to the affections; I think it possesses more variety than the Scotch, and expresses more forcibly the gay and the tender. Poor Charlotte Brooks, my friend and my relation, assisted in making me in love with the Irish bards. I am sure you know her beautiful translations of some of them. Carolan’s monody on the death of his wife, is truly pathetic
Allow me to say I do not conceive your extreme modesty; why should you not have supposed your charming little work worth dedicating to any one. I think it would be a high compliment to the taste of whoever could understand and appreciate it. Adieu, dear madam, I am sick and sad, but hope to be neither by the time I have the pleasure of seeing you.
