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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Lady Morgan to Alicia Le Fanu, 7 June 1812
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
DOCUMENT INFORMATION
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Preface
Vol. I Contents.
Prefatory Address
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Vol. I Index
Vol. II Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter IV
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Vol. II Index
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Baron’s Court,
June 7th, 1812.
My dearest Friend,

“To each his suffering;” you have had your portion, and it would have been unfair and unjust to have written to you under the influence of my sadness, and have drawn from you an unavailing sympathy at the moment you have been so actively and beneficially engaged in soothing and comforting my dear Olivia, who feels your goodness in her “heart of hearts.” You are a true friend,—I have always thought so,—I have always said so, and every year of our friendship has given me fresh reason to confirm my opinion. The dearest and strongest tie, which time, nature, habit, and acts of reciprocal affection can form, has been wrenched from my heart; I ought long since to have been, and yet was not, prepared for it. It was a dreadful break up to the feelings; it is so much of life broken off. A host of dearly remembered events, feelings, and associations, are necessarily gone with it. Were it possible I could ever again love anything so well, I can never again love anything so long. The best point of existence with me is over, and new ties and new affections must be light in their hold, and feeble in their influence, compared to those “which grew with the growth and strengthened with the years.” My dear husband, Olivia, yourself, and one or two more objects
20 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
are still left me, to whom I will cling. It is my intention to sacrifice for the rest of my life to the heart, and to live in Ireland, if those I love cannot live with me in England, where interest and ambition equally call Morgan and myself; he has no wish, scarcely any will, but mine, and is ready to make my country his, “my people his people.” As yet, our views are very misty; Lord and Lady Abercorn are very desirous we should remain with them, as long as they stay in Ireland, at least if not after; but as that will probably be for a year or two, it would be impossible. We have not, however, said so.

We have lately added to our party,
“The travelled Thane, Athenian Aberdeen,”
As Lord Byron calls him. He is reckoned among the “rising young men” of England, and is one of the virtuosi who purchased a farm at Athens, where he resided for some time. He was the husband of Lord Abercorn’s lately deceased and beautiful daughter. The meeting was very afflicting, and for some time threw a shadow over our circle.

What think you of the state of public affairs? our letters to-day, from England, say that the opposition still hold out, though offered six places out of twelve in the Cabinet, or seven out of fourteen. What a bouleversement in the state of things when stars and garters go a begging!! and commoner’s misses refuse to become princesses!!* The Cabinet remains empty

* Alluding to the gossip of the day that the Duke of Clarence had been refused by Miss Tilney Long, the luckless “great heiress” of the period.

DEATH OF MR. OWENSON.21
because no one thinks it worth their while to accept a place in it, and yet all this we have lived to see! If the opposition permit themselves in their condescension to be prevailed upon to govern an empire, your brother will find his own level, and you will have your levers et couchers, and we shall find with Louis the Fourteenth’s courtiers that Cuff Street “est faite pour n’être comparée à rien” (which, by-the-bye, and with deference to Mr. Lefanu, is more true than of the Louvre) and that “il ne plait pas à Glasnevin.” In the midst of all this political tourbillon, people still submit to be pleased and amused, and run after your comedy as they would have done in the prosperous and Augustan days of Queen Anne. Lady Abercorn tells me she has had great accounts of its success from all sides. As she knows your bonne fortune is mine, she indulges me with hearing of the good tidings. Livy says you think she could write a comedy; I think so too, she has an immense fund of true comedy in her own character, but writing is such a distinct thing from ourselves that no inference can be drawn from thence. Lord Byron, the author of delightful Childe Harold (which has more force, fire, and thought than anything I have read for an age) is cold, silent, and reserved in his manners,—pray read it if you have not. When I was in London, Lord G. Greville read me a poem of his own on the same subject as Childe Harold. The rival lords published their poems the same day; the one is cried up to the skies, the other, alas, is cried down to ——!

We expect Livy here, but she seems either unwilling or unable to leave home. We have no chance
22 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
of going ourselves to Dublin till winter; by that time, every one that I have known and lived with (save yourself, the Atkinsons, and the Mason’s) will have left it; indeed they are almost all gone already. It is astonishing the changes that have taken place in the little circle of my intimacy within a few years, either by death or departure to England. Among my literary friends, dear Psyche (Mrs. Tighe), Cooper Walker, and Kirwin are no more!

Sir Charles’s desire to know you increases daily. Shall we ever all meet again and all be happy together? At least write to me, and under all changes and circumstances, believe I love you tenderly and sincerely.

S. O. M.