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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Chapter XXXVI
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
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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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CHAPTER XXXVI.
ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED.

Between the last letter to Mrs. Lefanu and the next one to her father, not many weeks elapsed. This and the subsequent letters are all the indications that remain of her feelings and thoughts upon an event so important in her life, as her first real struggle against falling into love. She used to say, in after life, how little she was then aware of the blessing that had befallen her and how near she had been to missing it, through her own perverseness. There is no doubt that she had dreamed of making a more brilliant match.

Miss Owenson to Robert Owenson.
Baron’s Court,
August 20, 1811.
My dearest Dad,

I am the least taste in life at a loss how to begin to tell you what I am going to ask you—which
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is, your leave to marry
Doctor Morgan, whom I will not marry if you do not wish it. I dare say you will be amazingly astonished; but not half so much as I am, for Lord and Lady Abercorn have hurried on the business in such a manner, that I really don’t know what I am about. They called me in last night, and more like parents than friends, begged me to be guided by them—that it was their wish not to lose sight of me, which, except I married a friend of theirs, they might, as they never would acknowledge a Dublin husband, but that if I accepted Morgan, the man upon earth they most esteemed and approved, they would be friends to both for life—that we should reside one year with them, after our marriage, or if they remained in Ireland, two years, so that we might lay up our income during that time to begin the world. He is also to continue their physician.

He has now five hundred a-year, independent of practice. I don’t myself see the thing quite in the light they do; but they think him a man of such great abilities, such great worth and honour, that I am the most fortunate person in the world.

He stands in the first-class of physicians in London, having taken his Doctor’s degree at Cambridge; his connexions are excellent, &c., &c., and in person very distinguished-looking. Now tell me what you wish, for I am still, as ever, all your own loving and dutiful child,

Sydney Owenson.
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On the same subject, she wrote—after a few days—to most of her old friends. The letter to Mrs. Lefanu and Lady Stanley, may be given as specimens of the whole.

Miss Owenson to Mrs. Lefanu.
Baron’s Court,
August 29, 1811.
My dearest Friend,

Your inimitable letter was a source of great comfort to me. Your eloquent and exalted theories are still less powerful in their influence over me than your bright example. I have seen you the Providence of your family, and I admire and revere too much not to endeavour to imitate.

This event, the most unlooked-for and rapid of my life, has been accelerated by my friends here, and by the more than romantic passion of the most amiable and ardent of human beings, so as to leave me in a state of agitation and flurry that prevented me writing on the subject to any human being but my family—and even to them so incoherently as to leave them more to guess at from inference than fact.

The business was, indeed, so hurried, that it was all like a dream. The licence and ring have been in the house these ten days—all the settlements made; yet I have been battling off, from day to day, and hour to hour, and have only ten minutes back procured a little breathing time. The fact is, the struggle is almost too great for me—on one side engaged, be-
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yond retrieval, to a man who has frequently declared to my friends, here, that if I break off he will not survive it!! on the other, the dreadful certainty of being parted for ever from a country and friends I love, and a family I adore, to which I am linked by such fatal ties, that my heart must break in breaking them.

Lord and Lady Abercorn will not part with Dr. Morgan for a moment, as they suppose the whole family would die if they did; so that, after my marriage, I should have no chance of seeing you all before I went to Eugland, and I have, therefore, at last prevailed on Morgan to permit me to go up for a week or two, while I am yet a free agent. When I read that part of your letter where you say Tom and his wife were to live with you, I wept bitterly. Oh, if it were my lot to live with those I love! but I am about to leave them all. I write incoherently, for I am feeling strongly; don’t read this to Livy, but just what is right and politic to mention to any one. To give you any idea of the passion I have most unwittingly inspired, would be vain; but if I had spirits, I could amuse you not a little. Tell Livy to repeat to you some of his eloquent nonsense which I wrote to her. Barring his wild, unfounded love for me, the creature is perfection. The most manly, I had almost said daring, tone of mind, united to more goodness of heart and disposition, than I ever met with in a human being. Even with this circle, where all is acquirement and accomplishment, it is confessed that his versatility of talent is unrivalled. There is scarcely
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any art or science he has not cultivated with success; and the resources of his mind and memory are exhaustless. His manners are too English to be popular with the Irish; and though he is reckoned a handsome man, it is not that style of thing which, if I were to choose for beauty, I should select—it is too indicative of goodness; a little diablerie would make me wild in love with him. To the injury of his interests and circumstances, he has offered to settle with me in Dublin, since I appear so heart-broken at parting from my family; but that I would not hear of. He is just thirty; has a moderate property, independent of his profession; is a member and a fellow of twenty colleges and societies, and is a Cambridge man. This is a fulllength picture drawn for your private inspection. He read your letter with bursts of admiration. He says you must have a divine mind, and that if all my country-women resemble you, his constancy will be sadly put to the test. We are to live one year with the Abercorns, which will save some income for furnishing a house in London, where we are to reside. My man is now playing
Handel, and putting me in mind of dear Tom. He does not, however, play near so well; but has more science than any one, and sings the most difficult things at sight. He has so much improved me in Italian and singing, you cannot imagine. Ten thousand thanks for your benevolent attention to my poor old father—never did he stand more in need of it, sick, worn down and deprived of the attentions of a child he adores, and who has hitherto lived for him. You are all goodness, and to
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part from you is not among the least of my afflictions. God bless you ever,

S. Owenson.

A thousand loves to all the fire-side circle; but above all to Joe. I am quite shocked at the expense of my last letter; but as I saw you got all your letters at the Castle, I took it for granted they were free.

Miss Owenson to Lady Stanley.
Baron’s Court,
1st September, 1811.
My most dear Friend,

It is an age since we held any communion; in the first instance (I was prevented by the fear of boring you by a platitude of a letter, which could only repeat what you know—that I love you. In the second, I have been prevented writing since my arrival here (now five weeks ago) by an event unexpected and critical; in a word, in this little space of time, a man has fallen in love with me, tête baissée, and almost married me, before I know where I am or what it is all about. I mentioned to you before, that Lord Abercorn was to bring over with him a physician, and as they wrote me word that he was a person of distinguished talent, a charming musician, and altogether an interesting person, I sent him some comical professional problems in my letters to Lady Abercorn. He answered them by a poetical thesis—I sent him a diploma—and thus prepared, we met under circumstances and in
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scenes too favourable to the romantic feelings peculiar to his character, and which it was my lot to excite and feed. In short, almost without looking beyond the instant, his empressement, and the anxiety of Lord and Lady Abercorn to forward an event which would place me in England near them, took me unawares, and I gave a sort of consent to an event, which it is, and has ever since been, my incessant struggle to delay.

The fact is, there is much pour et contre, on the subject (Dr. Morgan having but a small patrimonial property, independent of his profession, in which he is still but young). The confidence his medical skill and success have inspired in this family, where there is a continual demand on his attention, have so raised him in their good opinion, that they have declared themselves his fast friends, and promoters of his interests for life. Indeed, it was at their instance, I was induced to listen to a proposal, which could have nothing in it very gratifying to my ambition. The man, however, is perfection. His mind has that strength of tone and extent of reflection, which you admire so much. He thinks upon every subject of importance with us, and is sometimes so daring in risking his bold and singular opinions, that while it raises him in my esteem, it makes me tremble for his worldly interests, so seldom promoted by this sovereign independence of principle and spirit, which throws rank and influence at such an incalculable distance. He is, with all this deep philosophy of character, a most accomplished gentleman. He speaks and writes well several languages, and is a scientific musician, a devoted natu-
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ralist, and has studied every branch of natural history with success. With these resources of mind, I never saw a wretch so thrown upon the heart for his happiness, or so governed by ardent and unruly passion, of which his most romantic engouement for me is a proof. I have refused and denied him over and over again, because if it is not in worldly circumstances a very good match for me, it is still worse for him. I am still putting it off from day to day, but fear I am too far committed to recede with honour. All this is entre nous, and should you mention the thing, prônez the business as much as you can, for upon all occasions, il est bon de se faire valoir. We are to live the first year with
Lord and Lady Abercorn, and the next we hope to be in a baby-house of our own in London, and, oh! what happiness it will be to me to have one to receive you, dear Lady Stanley, when you come to town, instead of your going to an hotel; believe me, there is not a human being I should be happier to see, than your dear self, after my own sweet sister. The worst part of my story is, that I must then have to leave my country, and father, and sister, that I adore; when I think of this, I start from my promise, and have more than once entreated to be off, and in short, sometimes I am almost out of my mind between contending feelings; you would pity me if you knew and saw my struggles; pray write to me soon, and love me always,

Your own Glorvina.

We expect the Duke and court here in a few days.

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Lady Stanley’s reply to the announcement of her friend’s proposed, but not yet accomplished, marriage is both wise and kind.

Lady Stanley to Miss Owenson.
Penrhos,
September 18th, 1811.
My dear Glorvina,

Shall I say the import of your letter surprised me? I know not. However, I think surprise was not the sensation predominant among the many it set afloat; that you should have met with a man who looked, listened, and entered the lists of love, tête baissée, was an event much of course; but that an equal to the admirable Crichton should be met at all, and moreover, that the destinies should just place him within the circle of Glorvina’s influence, is truly a matter worthy of wonder, and particularly to me, who have hitherto adhered pertinaciously to a persuasion, that kindred spirits were subjected to the same laws as parallel lines, and never could meet on this ungracious planet. But, behold an exception! Receive, my dear Sydney, my sincere felicitations on your view of establishment. Yet rest assured, I do not fail of taking a part in your anxieties, but who can be married without such attendants? If every contre was nearly looked to, alack, poor Hymen! But in the main, establishment is good, in some lights almost expedient, since the delights of youth, of friends, of range, and frolic, are but passengers. On the subject of riches, it must be
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avowed, my worldly wishes are not completely gratified, but on that question, the interests of the heart must arbitrate, nor can I dispute with those sovereigns, and do they not appear with a powerful phalanx? and sweetly chime with the old song—“Et il en sera toujours de même, si j’en juge d’après mon cœur.” Perhaps, ere this time, the conflict is over; I wish it may be so, and every sacrifice well compensated by the acquisition of a friend and associate, à tout epreuve. I have been sadly tardy in writing, but were details worth while, I could show I am more excusable than usual; I have been singularly engaged by company and hampered by business at the same time, and lassitude and chagrins spoilt every little interval. And now then, farewell, my dear Sydney. Imagine, and you may well imagine (do me but justice) how much I love to hear further of an event so interesting to me, and believe me, by every name,

Most truly yours, &c., &c.,
M. Stanley
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