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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Sydney Owenson to Sir Charles Ormsby, 8 May 1808
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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Anglesey,
May 8th, 1808, Saturday morning.

I am still here, delighted with everything around me—let me add (and not in the mere vanity of my heart) not undelighting. All here is stamped with a character new and impressive to my fancy. The fine old Welsh mansion, ponderous furniture, and, above all, the inhabitants! The figure and person of Lady Stanley is inimitable. Vandyke would have estimated
IDA OF ATHENS.325
her at millions. Though old, her manners, her mind, and conversation are all of the best school. She is a wonderful woman! The daughter advanced et un peu passée, has a character all her own. Sir John Stanley (the eldest son, and just come into possession of his property) is a man “comme il y en a peu” Something, at first, of English reserve; but when worn off I never met a mind more daring, more independent in its reflections, more profound or more refined in his ideas. He said a thousand things like you; I am convinced he has loved as you love. We sat up till two this morning talking of Corinne. Oswald, Ormsby, and Stanley, seemed to speak and feel with one heart and one voice.

I have found a harp and piano here, and Sir John has given me a splendid little edition of Burns for singing one of his songs. They have loaded my dressing-box with perfumes and such simple things as you know I like. All this brings you to my recollection—oh, what does not? In all my joys and sorrows you have a part. The flattery, the kindness addressed to me here! I think it is all to you it is offered, and it is most gratifying. I have been obliged to sing “Deep in love” so often for my handsome host, and every time it is as for you I sing it—people of true taste have but one opinion.

Adieu; write directly to London. I leave this tomorrow.

Aimons toujours comme à l’ordinaire.

S. O.

PS. I forgot to mention in my last, Parkhurst was
326 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
not on board. I never thought of him—of whom did I think? Ingrate!