He was then intended for a merchant, but the ‘Novice of St Domenich,’ which he copied out, as regularly as it was written, in six huge volumes, and its author, turned his head. He fled from his country-house, went to India, and became a great man.” With exceeding naïveté Miss Jewsbury observes on this—“Lady Morgan, when she endorsed these papers, had of course forgotten her own age. It is so sweet to be eighteen.” Forgotten her own age! We should think that she had, just as she forgot everything which did not minister to her vanity or jump with the humour of the moment. But Lady Morgan could remember as well as forget, when it suited her purpose. “Among her memoranda of 1822 and 1824,” says Miss Jewsbury, “are two or three entries on the subject of Captain Crossley, which may be given in this place:” “Francis Crossley, my fast friend of the other sex, met me at my sister’s house at dinner after an absence of eighteen years. It was a singular interview. What was most singular in it is, that he remains unchanged. He insists upon it that, _in person_, so am I.” “August 24th: Received this day a letter from Captain Crossley, acquainting me with his intention of marrying. I have written him an answer _à mourir de rire_, and so ends our romance of so many years!” “August 26th: Captain and Mrs Crossley dined this day here, and I never saw such a _triste_-looking couple. My poor Francis silent and sad.” How could he be otherwise, poor man! under the circumstances—with the new and old love both before him, and cut off, by his own rash act, from choosing between?