“Thanks be to God, I am in England!
“Bedford, you may conceive the luxury of that ejaculation, if you know the miseries of a sea voyage; even the stoic who loves nothing, and the merchant whose trade-tainted heart loves nothing but wealth, would echo it. Judge you with what delight Robert Southey leapt on terra firma.
“To-night I go to Southampton; to-morrow will past pains become pleasant.
“Now, Grosvenor, is happiness a sojourner on earth, or must man be cat-a-ninetailed by care, until he shields himself in a shroud? My future destiny will not decide the problem, for I find a thousand pleasures, and a thousand pains, of which nine-tenths of the world know nothing. . . . . Come to Bristol, be with me there as long as you can. I almost add, advise me there, but your advice will come too late.
“I am sorry you could ask if you did wrong in showing
Wynn my letter. I have not a thought
secret from him. . . . . My passage was very good, and I must be the
best-tempered fellow in Great Britain, for the devil a drop of gall is there
left in my bile bag. I intend a hymn
to the Dii Penates. Write to me directly, and direct to Cottle. I have, as yet, no
| Ætat. 22. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 273 |
“Lord Somerville is dead,—no matter to me I believe, for the estates were chiefly copyhold, and Cannon Southey minded wine and women too much to think of renewing for the sake of his heirs. . . . . Farewell.
“We landed last night at eleven o’clock; left Lisbon on Thursday 5th, and were becalmed south of the rock till breakfast time on Saturday; so that our passage was remarkably good.”
