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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 1: 1791-1797 </title>
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<name>Southey, Robert, 1774-1843</name>
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<idno type="nines">rce99</idno>
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<sourceDesc>
<p>Bodleian Library, MS
                        Eng. Lett. c. 22.  Previously  published: Kenneth Curry (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (London and New
                        York, 1965), I, pp. 70–74.</p>
<p>These letters were edited with the assistance of Carol Bolton, Tim Fulford and Ian Packer</p>
<p>For permission to publish the text of MSS in their possession, the editor wishes to thank the Beinecke Rare
											Books and Manuscript Library, Yale University; Berg Collection of English and American Literature, The New
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											Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge; Haverford College, Connecticut; the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; the
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											Museum (Bedfordshire County Council); Massachusetts Historical Society; McGill University Library; the
											National Library of Scotland; the Newberry Library, Chicago; the New York Public Library (Pforzheimer
											Collections); the Pierpont Morgan Library, New York; the Public Record Offices of Bedford, Suffolk (Bury
											St Edmunds) and Northumberland, the Master and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge; the Society of
											Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne; the Trustees of the William Salt Library, Stafford, the Wisbech and
											Fenland Museum; the University of Virginia Library.</p>
<p>A research grant from the British Academy made much of the archival work possible, as did support from the
											English Department of Nottingham Trent University.</p>
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<div n="99" type="letter">
<head>99. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace
                        Walpole Bedford</ref>, <date when="1794-08-22">22 August–3 September
                        1794</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: Horace Walpole
                        Bedford Esq<hi rend="sup">r</hi>/ New Palace Yard/ Westminster/ Single<lb/>
                        Stamped: BRISTOL<lb/>Postmark: [obscured by repair to MS]<lb/>Watermarks: G
                        R in a circle; figure of Britannia<lb/>Endorsement: Rec<hi rend="sup">d</hi>. Sept 6<hi rend="sup">th</hi>. 1794<lb/>MS: Bodleian Library, MS
                        Eng. Lett. c. 22<lb/>Previously published: Kenneth Curry (ed.), <title level="m">New Letters of Robert Southey</title>, 2 vols (London and New
                        York, 1965), I, pp. 70–74.</note>
</head>
<opener>
<dateline rend="right">
<date when="1794-08-22">Friday. August. 22. 1794.</date>
</dateline>
</opener>
<p rend="indent1"> Calmly &amp; firmly — after long deliberation — I pronounce —
                    I am going to America. it is my duty to depart. at present every thing smiles
                    upon the undertaking. should the resolution of others fail, <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> &amp; I will
                    go together, &amp; either find repose in an Indian wig-wam — or from an
                    Indian tomahawk. but this is the last resource of disappointment &amp;
                    despair. if earthly virtue &amp; fortitude can be relied on, I shall be
                    happy. </p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> what is the origin
                    of moral evil? whence arise the various vices &amp; misfortunes that
                    disfigure human nature &amp; destroy human happiness? from individual
                    property. start not at the answer. consider well. happiness is best defined to
                    be the full enjoyment of mental &amp; corporeal <del rend="strikethrough">powers</del> &lt;faculties&gt; when that enjoyment interferes not
                    with the well being of another. tell me <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> has the labourer who
                    works hard for ten hours in the day the full enjoyment of his mental faculties?
                    an aristocrat will answer “he does not feel the loss.” shame on that society
                    where Man is &lt;so&gt; degraded that he feels not the degradation of
                    his intellect! according to the computation of Adam Smith<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">Adam Smith (c. 1723–1790), <title level="m">An
                            Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations</title>
                        (1776).</note> one man in twenty is employed in providing the necessaries
                    &amp; comforts of life. he works ten hours a day &amp; in consequence
                    cannot enjoy his mental faculties — but divide this labour among the whole
                    twenty, &amp; the sum of work is half an hour to each individual. All mighty
                    God! the comforts of life may be procured by the daily toil of half an hour!
                    &amp; this cursed state of society degrades thy creatures to brutes by
                    obliging them to hard labour for ten hours so to acquire a poor pitiful
                    livelihood — while kings nobles &amp; priests fatten on their toil —
                    &amp; cry out “All is well!</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> would that state of
                    society be happy where every man laboured two hours a day at some useful
                    employment. where all were equally educated — where the common ground was
                    cultivated by common toil, &amp; its produce laid in common granaries. where
                    none were rich because none should be poor. where every motive for vice should
                    be annihilated &amp; every motive for virtue strengthened? such a system we
                    go to establish in America. we go at least twelve men with women &amp;
                    children. <ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">my Mother</ref> accompanies
                    me, who will then not be the only M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Southey. <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">the woman</ref> whom I love has consented
                    to go with <ref target="people.html#Frickerfamily">her sisters</ref>. <del rend="strikethrough">xxxxxx</del>
<ref target="people.html#BurnettGeorge">Burnett</ref>
<ref target="people.html#AllenRobert">Allen</ref>
<ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref>
<ref target="people.html#LovellRobert">Lovell</ref> &amp;c. I may say
                    without vanity we leave not our superiors behind. we purchase a thousand acres
                    hire labourers to assist us in clearing it &amp; building houses. by this
                    day twelve months the Pantisocratic society of Aspheterists will be settled on
                    the banks of the Susquehannah.</p>
<lb/>
<p>
<date when="1794-09-03">Sept. 3.</date>
</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> left me
                    yesterday. it was like the losing a limb to part with him. from him you will
                    learn our whole plan — he will accurately explain it &amp; convince you how
                    just &amp; how practicable it is. I regret <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> that I cannot urge
                    you to accompany me — yet perhaps you may follow me. at least remember that if
                    you marry soon, there are a number of men of science genius &amp; virtue who
                    will gladly receive you in Pensylvania. to a community where the only care will
                    be that of making each other happy. would to God you could marry early in the
                    spring &amp; accompany us. would to God you could share in the toil
                    &amp; in the glory of regenerating mankind. think well my dear friend. of
                    the propriety of emigrating I can convince you. of the practicability of your
                    marriage you must judge. I never enquired deeply into the subject for fear of
                    giving unnecessary pain. excuse my mentioning it now — or rather impute to the
                    warmth of a friend, unwilling to lose you for ever &amp; wishing you to
                    partake the same tranquillity which he promises himself.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I have much to endure ere I depart. all the prejudices of the
                    human heart are in arms against me, &amp; whilst <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> is absent it
                    devolves upon me to keep all our party in spirits. the woman I love almost
                    unmans me by looking with such exquisite affection &amp; saying — “I cannot
                    leave my Mother without being unhappy — yet I will go with you — staying or
                    going I must be miserable.” did I not know her strength of mind &amp; how
                    ardently I shall endeavour to make her happy, this would drive me beyond the
                    bounds of reason. but we must be most happy there. would you could come with us
                    — do <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> consider well —
                    what prospects have you in England? were it not better to marry now than linger
                    out years in solitary wretchedness. pardon me I may say too much on a subject of
                    which I know so little.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I shall send you a volume of Poems<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title level="m">Poems</title> (1795), published under the
                        pseudonyms ‘Bion’ (Southey) and ‘Moschus’ (Robert Lovell).</note> in about a
                    month. what subscriptions you can get me for Joan I shall feel much obliged for.
                    money I must raise by these means, but I fear my brain will produce little when
                    converted into sterling coin. lead may perhaps make gold — my brain is composd
                    of very different materials. I hope to get a good subscription by Joan. 80 pages
                    of the other volume are printed &amp; 40 more will compleat it. it contains
                    many pieces which you have never seen, one of them the Retrospect, is certainly
                    the best piece I have ever written. you shall have it when printed; my name will
                    be prefixed &amp; if you can promote the sale you will serve me. Piers
                        Plowman<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">Poem by William Langland (c.
                        1325–c. 1390; <title level="m">DNB</title>).</note> I will keep in
                    remembrance of you. send it me to Bath &amp; do urge <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">Grosvenor</ref> to send Sayers
                    &amp; the Minstrel<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">Frank Sayers
                        (1763–1817; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title level="m">Poems</title>
                        (1792) and James Beattie (1735–1803; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title level="m">The Minstrel</title> (1771–1774).</note> as I want them very
                    particularly.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> Your last verses I like much. particularly the two last stanzas
                    but one. buy Bowles poems,<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">William Lisle
                        Bowles (1762–1850; <title level="m">DNB</title>). Samuel Taylor Coleridge
                        had ordered a copy of Bowles’s <title level="m">Sonnets, (Third Edition),
                            with Other Poems</title> (1794) whilst in Oxford in summer 1794, and he
                        and Southey had discussed Bowles’s poetry.</note> &amp; study them well.
                    they will teach you to write better, &amp; give you infinite pleasure. they
                    may be had at Dillys<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">Charles Dilly
                        (1739–1807; <title level="m">DNB</title>), a London bookseller.</note> in
                    the Poultry.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> My mind is never at rest not even for a moment. one grand object
                    has fully possessd my soul, to that tend the employments of the day &amp;
                    the visions of the night. I look forward with impatience to the moment when I
                    shall ascend the bark &amp; gaze on the lessening shore till it be for ever
                    lost in distance. like Adam I may “drop some natural tears — but dry them
                        soon.”<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">Southey is paraphrasing John
                        Milton (1608–1674; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title level="m">Paradise
                            Lost</title> (1667–1668), Book 12, line 645.</note> — <del rend="strikethrough">the sorrows</del> past sorrows will be obliterated in
                    anticipating future pleasure. when <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> &amp; I are
                    sawing down a tree we shall discuss metaphysics, criticise poetry when hunting a
                    buffalo, &amp; write sonnets whilst following the plough. our society will
                    be of the most polishd order; you will not accuse me of vanity when I rank
                    myself with <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref>
                    &amp; <ref target="people.html#AllenRobert">Allen</ref>, &amp; say we
                    shall not leave our superiors behind. our females are beautiful amiable
                    &amp; accomplishd — &amp; I shall then call <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> my brother in the
                    real sense of the word. — this prospect is only clouded by some slight shadows —
                        <ref target="people.html#TylerElizabeth">my Aunt</ref> knows nothing of it —
                    &amp; we have money to raise. of the last there is no doubt. tis however
                    unfortunate that I am not of age &amp; therefore unable to sell any
                    reversion.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> pray let me have the Minstrel immediately. write to me in the
                    parcel. — poor Robespierre!<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">The Jacobin
                        leader Maximilien François Marie Odenthalius Isidore de Robespierre
                        (1758–1794) had been executed on 28 July.</note>
<ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> &amp; I
                    wrote a tragedy<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title level="m">The Fall
                            of Robespierre</title> was published under Coleridge’s name later in
                        1794. The play had originated as a joint composition — with Coleridge,
                        Southey and Robert Lovell writing one act each. Lovell’s act was quickly
                        dropped and Southey wrote a substitute.</note> upon his death in the space
                    of two days! so good that he has it now in town to get printed — if you ask me
                    my opinion of this great man I will tell you — I believe him to have been
                    sacrificed to the despair of fools &amp; cowa[MS torn] <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">eridge</ref> says “he was a man
                    whose great bad actions cast a disa[MS torn] lustre over his name”. he is now
                    inclined to think with me that the [MS torn] of a man so situated must not be
                    judged by common laws — that Robespierre was the benefactor of mankind —
                    &amp; that we should lament his death as the greatest misfortune Europe
                    could have sustaind. — the situation of Europe is surely most melancholy — it
                    presents to the eye of humanity a prospect of carnage from which it shrinks with
                    horror. the coalesced tyrants are obstinate in pursuing the war — the French tho
                    actuated at home by mean &amp; selfish motives, act abroad with a steadiness
                    &amp; energy which at once delight &amp; astonish me. Flanders must be
                    rank with human blood. surely Horace the eternal arbiter of all things can have
                    no common end in view when he permits actions whose atrocity terrifies &amp;
                    whose magnitude astonishes the human mind.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I do believe he guides the storm, I trust that all will conduce
                    to human happiness. meantime far removed from treachery corruption &amp;
                    slaughter — I go with my brethren &amp; friends to establish that system
                    which can alone prevent such convulsions in future.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> If you should have seen <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> before you
                    receive this, you will not look upon our plan as visionary &amp;
                    impracticable. you will then be convinced that it is the effect of much
                    deliberation &amp; deep enquiry.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> when you will see me in London I know not. hardly before Xmas —
                    &amp; then but passing thro to Cambridge. in the interim write to me often.
                    say nothing of my future views to <ref target="people.html#CollinsCharles">C
                        Collins</ref>. he is cold hearted &amp; like the Pharisee thanks God he
                    is not “even as this Republican”!<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">An
                        adaptation of <title level="m">Luke</title> 18: 11.</note> so let him — I
                    envy him neither <del rend="strikethrough">his</del> the frigidity of his
                    feelings, nor the self command which makes him the same to every body. my part
                    thro life has been decisive it is now almost accomplishd — I am about to quit a
                    theatre where none succeed so well as those who forget their actual characters
                    to ape the part allotted. from the noblest &amp; purest motives I am about
                    to abandon all hopes of preferment, &amp; to incur with pleasure the frowns
                    &amp; the contempt of this society — I am about to exchange the insipidity
                    of literary dissipation, for the varied day of toil science &amp; relaxation
                    — &amp; the irksome vacancy of crowds for domestic happiness. the prospect
                    of daring to do my duty ennobles me — I feel elevated above what I ever yet have
                    been — Futurity opens a smiling prospect upon my view &amp; I doubt not of
                    enjoying the purest happiness Man can ever experience.</p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent4"> Adieu.</salute>
<signed rend="indent5"> Robert Southey.</signed>
</closer>
<postscript>
<p rend="indent1"> pray <hi rend="ital">send the Minstrel</hi>.</p>
</postscript>
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