I wish they would give us your work on Italy to rouse me from the lethargy into which I have fallen. It is only you that have both power and inclination to make me forget the ennui of existence, and only in your society that I am not entirely bête. What shall I do with the long mornings in Geneva? You know you laughed me out of my maître de litterature, which, par parenthese, was very inconsiderate, unless you could have pointed out some more amusing method of killing time. Baron Bonstettin came to see me to-day; you were the subject of our conversation, nothing but admiration and regret when we talk of you.
How is dear Sir Charles? He is the only man on earth who knows my value, which has given me the highest opinion of his taste and judgment.
The Marchioness de
Villette wishes me to spend a month with her in Paris. I cannot
go, although it would be a great soulagement to converse with a person who loves me, one has
always so much sur le cœur, and
in this country they are so heartless. I do dé-domager myself a little by uttering all the
ridiculous things which come into my brain, either about others
| STILL IN ITALY—1820. | 141 |
Do not let me forget to tell you that Mr. Sismondi has made my acquaintance—he
is married, too; I wonder that people of genius marry; by the way, I recollect
that you are an advocate for le
mariage. Oh! my dear Lady
Morgan, I have been in such a state of melancholy, that I wished
myself dead a thousand times—all my philosophy, all my courage, are
insufficient sometimes to support the inexpressible ennui of existence, and in those moments of wretchedness I have no
human being to whom I can complain. What do you think of a person advising me
to turn Methodist the other day, when I expressed just the hundredth part of
the misery I felt? I find no one can comprehend my feelings. Have you read
Les
Méditations Poétiques de Lamartine? There are
some pretty things in them, although he is too larmoyant, and of the bad school of politics. Miss Edgworth is here; I visited her; she came
to see me with Professor Pictel, and we
have never met. She has a great deal of good sense, which is just what I
particularly object to, unless accompanied by genius, in my companions. It is
only you that combine tous les genres
d’esprit, and whose society can compensate me for
all the losses and the mistakes of my heart; but I shall never see you again,
those whom I love and who love me are always distant; I am dragging out life
with the indifferent. They
| 142 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. |
Do hurry, then, with your work on Italy, pour maintenir vôtre reputation, and to give me pleasure—my pleasures are so few that my friends are right to indulge me when they can.
I have seen a German Countess;—that means, seen her every day during three months; she is a practical philosopher of the Epicurean sect, a person just calculated to make something of life—unlike me as possible—she has a great deal more sagacity; to do her justice, she tried de me débarrasser of what she called mes idées romanesques et mes grandes passions; but I am incorrigible, and go on tormenting myself about things which I cannot change. She had more coarse common sense, with greater knowledge of the world, than any person I have ever known. I wish I resembled her, because I should be more happy.
Adieu, my dear Lady Morgan, write me frequently; your friendship is among the few comforts left me.
