The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey
Robert Southey to Grosvenor C. Bedford, October 1796
“I know not even the day of the month, but October is
somewhat advanced, and this is Friday evening. Why did I not write sooner?
Excuses are bad things. I have much to employ me, though I can always make a
little leisure. If you were married, Grosvenor, you would know the luxury of sitting indolently by
the fireside; at present you only half ![]()
| Ætat. 22. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 293 |
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know it. There is a
state of complete mental torpor, very delightful, when the mind admits no
sensation but that of mere existence; such a sensation I suppose plants to
possess, made more vivid by the dews and gentle rains. To indulge in fanciful
systems is a harmless solitary amusement, and I expect many a pleasant hour
will be thus wore away, Grosvenor, when we meet. The devil
never meddles with me in my unemployed moments; my day dreams are of a
pleasanter nature. I should be the happiest man in the world, if I possessed
enough to live with comfort in the country; but in this world, we must
sacrifice the best part of our lives, to acquire that wealth, which generally
arrives when the time of enjoying it is past. . . . .
“I ardently wish for children; yet, if God shall bless
me with any, I shall be unhappy to see them poisoned by the air of London.
“‘Sir,—I do thank God for
it,—I do hate Most heartily that city.’ |
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So said John Donne; ’tis a
favourite quotation of mine. My spirits always sink when I approach it. Green
fields are my delight. I am not only better in health, but even in heart, in
the country. A fine day exhilarates my heart; if it rains, I behold the grass
assume a richer verdure as it drinks the moisture: everything that I behold is
very good, except man; and in London I see nothing but man and his works. A
country clergyman, with a tolerable income, is surely in a very enviable
situation. ![]()
| 294 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE | Ætat. 22. |
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Surely we have a thousand things to transfuse
into each other, which the lazy language of the pen cannot express with
sufficient rapidity. Your illness was very unfortunate. I could wish once to
show you the pleasant spots where I have so often wandered, and the cavern
where I have written so many verses. You should have known Cottle, too, for a worthier heart you never
knew.
“You love the sea. Whenever I pitch my tent, it shall
be by it. When will that be? Is it not a villainous thing that poetry will not
support a man, when the jargon of the law enriches so many? . . . . I had
rather write an epic poem than read a brief.
“Have you read St.
Pierre? If not, read that most delightful work, and you will love the author as much
as I do.
“I am as sleepy an animal as ever. The rain beats hard,
the fire burns bright, ’tis but eight o’clock, and I have already
begun yawning. Good night, Grosvenor,
lest I set you to sleep. My father always went to bed at nine o’clock. I
have inherited his punctuality and his drowsiness.
God bless you,
Robert Southey.
“I am the lark that sings early, and early retires.
What is that bird that sleeps in the morning, and is awake at night,
Grosvenor? Do you remember poor
Aaron?”*
Grosvenor Charles Bedford (1773-1839)
The son of Horace Walpole's correspondent Charles Bedford; he was auditor of the
Exchequer and a friend of Robert Southey who contributed to several of Southey's
publications.
Joseph Cottle (1770-1853)
Bristol bookseller and poet; he published the
Lyrical Ballads,
several heroic poems that attracted Byron's derision, and
Early
Recollections, chiefly relating to the late Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 2 vols
(1837).
John Donne (1572-1631)
English poet, wit, and divine; he was dean of St. Paul's (1621-31).
