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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte to Lady Morgan, 22 September 1839
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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Paris, Rue D’Algers, No 4,
September 22nd, 1839.
Dear Lady Morgan,

You will be less surprised to know of my arrival in Europe than I am to find myself here. I never supposed that I had preserved sufficient energy or moral courage to put into effect my inclination to absent myself from the République par excellence. A residence of a few months in the Etats Unis would cure the most ferocious Republican of the mania of Republics. We have security neither for our lives nor our persons in America. I have been two months nearly in France, a period of time which has passed very dully; I have found few of those persons whom I knew and saw habitually five years ago. Death, time, and absence have left me scarcely an acquaintance at Paris. If our friends do not die, their sentiments change towards us so much, that really I know not which is most distressing, to hear that they are gone to the other world, or that they have forgotten us in this vale of tears, and have become strangers to us. I have met few persons who possess the stability of friendship that I find in yourself. You are, in this particular, as in most others, une personne distinguée. My son is gone from Geneva to Italy, to visit his relatives, and to see after a legacy, which the late Cardinal Fesch, his grand uncle, had the goodness to leave to him. He wanted me to go to Geneva to see
LONDON LIFE—1839.455
him, but I could not attain the courage to extend my long journey farther than Paris. Here I am in solitary existence. In one of his letters he remarked that it had been your intention to write to me; If you have had that goodness, your letter must have reached Baltimore after my departure. I regret this circumstance very much. I have seen Mr. Warder; his regard for me has held out against time and circumstances; he is unchanged in kind feelings; but, poor man, time has dealt hard with his exterior; he looks as if he had begun to exist a century ago.

Madame Benjamin de Constant is an agreeable person; has had the goodness to recollect me. I dined yesterday at her house, en petit comité. I have myself grown fat, old, and dull,—all good reasons for people not to think me an intelligent hearer or listener. They mistake, however; I have exactly the talent to appreciate the high powers of all others, without being able to contribute much to the liveliness of conversation myself.

Have you no agreeable work to promise us?

The poor Duchess d’Abrantes, Madame Junot, made a sad end, the natural consequence of her prodigal expenditure. Her pecuniary difficulties, it is said, caused her death. I liked her very much, and I always felt pained at the misery which her want of judgment in the direction of her affairs had brought on her. I believe that her heart and feelings were generous and warm.

I wonder that you did not select Paris in preference to London, for a permanent séjour. I should much
456 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
prefer living at Florence, but there lives there one individual whom I wish not to meet again. Whether persons have been the voluntary or the unreflecting cause of having spoiled a destiny, I would sooner avoid their presence. I know not whether the
princess Charlotte, the late daughter of Joseph Bonaparte, was fortunate enough to be personally of your acquaintance. I did not myself know her, but I have heard from those who did, that she possessed some mental superiority, and a great many noble qualities.

I hope that Sir Charles Morgan still recollects me, and preserves for myself the friendship he formerly entertained for me.

Adieu, my dear Lady Morgan,

Believe me, ever your sincere and
Affectionate friend,
E. Patterson.