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 xxxxx stone who loves nothing & 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. tomorrow will past pains become pleasant.
Now Grosvenor is Happiness a Sojourner on Earth? or must Man be cat & ninetaild by Care till he shields himself in a shroud? — my future destiny will not decide the problem. for I find a thousand pleasures & a thousands pains than <of which> nine tenths of the world know nothing of.
to your long letter I shall elaborately reply in verse. you need not read it if you think I am “urging you to a precipice. 
Bedford — better is the tempest of passion — than that unwholesome calm that generates pestilence.
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. even you know not her good sense yet
Come to Bristol. I do not promise you men worthy your friendship for Charles Danvers will not be there. yet you will love Cottle & his oddities & his excellent heart. & you will find a Sister in one who already loves you because you are my friend.
my passage was very good. & I must be the best tempered fellow in Great Britain for the devil a drop of gall is there in my bile-bag.
I intend a hymn to the Dii Penates. 
write to me directly & direct to Cottles. I have as yet “where to chuse — my place of rest.”  I shall soon have enough to place me above want — & till that arrives shall support myself in ease & comfort like a silkworm by spinning my own brains. if poor Necessity was without hands as well as legs badly would she be off.
Lord Somerville  is dead — no matter to me I believe. for the estates were chiefly copy hold — & Canon Southey minded wine & women too much to think of renewing for the sake of his heirs.
remember me to all friends — & “to all your good family.” 
symptoms of cleanliness. our Cook said — I belie[MS torn] God does not take much care of me — for I have not had nor time to wash myself these three days.
symptoms of hunger. I swallowed food of his dressing.
Portsmouth. Sunday May 15th. 1796
we landed last night at eleven o clock. left Lisbon on Thursday 5th. & were becalmed South of the rock till breakfast time on Saturday so that our passage was remarkably good
* Address: Grosvenor Charles Bedford Esqr/ New Palace Yard/ Westminster
Postmark: MA/ 16/ 96
Watermark: [Obscured by MS binding]
Endorsement: 15. May 1796
MS: Bodleian Library, MS Eng. Lett. c. 22
Previously published: Charles Cuthbert Southey (ed.), Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, 6 vols (London, 1849–1850), I, pp. 272–273 [in part]. BACK
 Probably a quotation from Bedford’s own letter (which does not survive). BACK
 The Roman gods of household and hearth. The ‘Hymn to the Penates’ appeared in Southey’s Poems (1797). BACK
 John Milton (1608–1674; DNB), Paradise Lost (1667), Book 12, lines 646–647. BACK
 James Somerville, 14th Lord Somerville (1727–1796), a very distant relation of Southey’s by marriage. Southey hoped to inherit a share of the fortune of John Cannon Southey on the death of Somerville, but his hopes came to nothing. BACK
 A salutation that Southey commonly used in letters to the Bedfords and to Charles Collins – so much so, that it became an in-joke. BACK