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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Lady Morgan to Thomas Moore, 2 January 1831
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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Kildare Street, Dublin,
January 2nd, 1831.
Dear Mr. Moore,

I am tempted to put your good nature at rest, with respect to the refusal of the editorship. Your friend Crampton (whom I met at dinner yesterday) has offered to forward a note to you by his packet. So I am tempted to write. My opinion is, that it would be for the advantage of literature if periodical publications were put down for ever. Mr. Crampton and I agreed last night that we should be inclined to “put on the list of friends those whom you say have
LAST YEARS IN DUBLIN—1831.319
advised you not to publish your
Life of Lord Edward, at this most mal à propos and inauspicious moment. Ireland is no more the country you left three months ago than it is Cochin China! To judge by the outline and aspect of things, a connoisseur in revolution (and I am pas mal in that species of virtú) all would say we were on the eve of the worst and most perilous political commotions one coming from below, and such elements! Imagine countless thousands of the lower classes pouring through the streets, silent, concentrated, worked by a nod, a sign; and this, the day after a proclamation from the government, forbidding all meetings.(!) All other classes are paralysed; government is without one organ to address to public opinion; not one newspaper in its service—terrorism the order of the day, and a parliament dispersed for six weeks at least, and the nation left to the prayers of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the black Pasto of Mr. Percival. It is clear that they know nothing about us in England; by this time, however, Lord Anglesey has probably given them a hint; his reception is a stain upon the country, which can never be effaced; peace or war (civil war and extending woes) now lies in the influence of O’Connell over the passions of the people; “to this complexion are we come at last

In haste,
Dear Mr. Moore,
Yours truly,
S. Morgan.