The Wild Irish Girl: A National Tale

by Lady Morgan

  TO THE EARL OF M--------

  My Lord,

  Suffer me, in the fullness of my heart, and in the language of oneprodigal and penitent as myself, to say, “I have sinned against Heavenand thee, and am no longer worthy to be called thy son.” Abandonme then, I beseech you, as such; deliver me up to the destiny, thatinvolves me to the complicated tissue of errors and follies I have soindustriously woven with my own hands; for though I am equal to sustainthe judgment my own vices have drawn down upon me, I cannot support thecruel mercy with which your goodness endeavours to avert its weight.

  Among the numerous catalogues of my faults, a sordid selfishness findsno place. Yet I should deservedly incur its imputation, were I to acceptof freedom on such terms as you are so generous to offer. No, my Lord,continue to adorn that high and polished circle in which you are soeminently calculated to move; nor think so lowly of one, who, with allhis faults, is _your son_, as to believe him ready to purchase _his_liberty at the expense of _your_ banishment from your native country.

  I am, &c. &c.

  _King’s Bench_. H. M.