The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 1: 1791-1797 A Romantic Circles Electronic EditionSouthey, Robert, 1774-1843Lynda PrattRomantic CirclesGeneral Editor, Neil FraistatGeneral Editor, Steven E. JonesGeneral Editor, Carl StahmerTechnical EditorLaura Mandell2009-03-15rce40letterEEd.26.40Romantic Circles, http://www.rc.umd.edu, University of MarylandCollege Park, MDMarch 15, 2009
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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. 169–170 [in part; where it is dated 16 January 1793].
These letters were edited with the assistance of Carol Bolton, Tim Fulford and Ian Packer
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 York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden
Foundations; the Bodleian Library Oxford University; the British Library; Boston Public Library; the Syndics of Cambridge University
Library; the Syndics of the Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge; Haverford College, Connecticut; the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; the
Hornby Library, Liverpool Libraries and Information Services; the Houghton Library, Harvard University; the John Rylands Library,
Manchester; the Kenneth Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas; Luton 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.
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.
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40. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, 16 [–21] January [1793]Address: Grosvenor Charles Bedford Esqr/ Old Palace Yard/
Westminster./ SingleStamped: OXFORDPostmark: [partial] OJA/ 2/ 93 Watermarks: Rampant lion holding a scimitar, a
second figure; crown with a circle with Lloyd written underneathEndorsements: 26 <16>
Janry 1793; Recd. Jany 22d. 1793; Ansd. 5. Feby. 1793; 1793MS: Bodleian Library, MS Eng. Lett. c. 22. ALS; 4p.Previously published: Charles Cuthbert Southey
(ed.), Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, 6 vols (London, 1849–1850), I, pp. 169–170 [in part;
where it is dated 16 January 1793].Wednesday. 16 Jany.Bristol.
just received yours
My dear friend all your arguments I have already answered in my own mind but shall delay writing them till I am settled
at Oxford. whatever books of mine you wish to read keep as long as agreeable. the rest I shall be obliged to you to forward as soon as
convenient to me at Baliol where I purpose sleeping upon Saturday night. “Imberbis
juvenis tandem custode remoto gaudet equisHorace (65–8 BC), Ars
Poetica, lines 161–162. The Latin translates as: ‘The beardless youth, freed at last from his tutor, finds joy in
horses.’ &c this has no more allusion to me than (with due deference to your opinion) Justum & tencaem propositi
virumHorace, Odes, Book 3, No. 3, line 1. The Latin translates as
‘The man of integrity who holds fast to his purpose’. has to Edmund Burke.Edmund
Burke (1729/30–1797; DNB) defended the American revolutionaries in 1776, but condemned the French
Revolution in Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790). do you remember the fable of Boreas
& Phœbus contending to make a traveller fling off his great coat?A fable sometimes
attributed to Jean de la Fontaine (1621–1695) in which the North Wind (Boreas) and Sun (Phoebus) compete to make a traveller remove
his coat by, respectively, force and persuasion. the vultus instantis tyranniHorace,
Odes, Book 3, no. 3, line 3. The Latin translates as ‘the frown of an oppressive despot’. is not so
difficult to despise as the hand proffering a pension — the price of honor justice & integrity of each unbought grace of life —
here I can tell what it means. of your ode a few words before I set to transcribing. before I read the last half sheet I wished you to
lengthen it for only three authors are mentioned & only Shakespear of the first rank — Nature had so little to do with Dryden that
I wonder at your ranking him with the Swan of Avon — Milton Spenser — Pope — Akenside Collins — Churchill — Beaumont — FletcherAlexander Pope (1688–1744; DNB); Mark Akenside (1721–1770; DNB); William Collins (1721–1759; DNB); Charles Churchill (1732–1764; DNB); Francis Beaumont (1584/5–1616; DNB); John Fletcher (1579–1625; DNB). would each afford a fine scope for your fancy & will you refuse one stanza to deck the unnoted grave of
Chatterton? Thomas Chatterton (1752–1770; DNB), whose grave is
unmarked. when this fault is noticed I have noticed all. if however (as I hope) you mean to lengthen it I would not wish you
to fetter yourself in the chains of precedent — regular lyrics are like despotic monarchies they look stately but lose all the energy
of freedom.
The Wedding day
High blazd the fire in Arwins hall To all the vassal throng —Sparkled full the generous ale Reechoed loud the song.Pensive alone Sir Arwin sat The jovial tribe amongUntoucht by him the generous ale Unheard by him the song.Why lingers Hugo? cried the chief Abruptly as he roseWhy lingers Hugo? sad he sighs As to the gate he goesFar oer the well till’d lands around He casts his wistful ken —Fruitless the gaze again he sighd And back returnd again.Why lingers Hugo — cried the chief. He heard the curfew toll.He hung his head in anguish mute Despair fulfilld his soul.The horn blew loud — a page appeard High heavd Sir Arwins breast —He saw his lovd Matildas page He saw & knew the rest.Sir Knight — Lord Birthand greets thee fair And would thy presence pray —Come on the morrow to his hall It is his wedding day.All night Sir Arwin pacd along His room with mournful roundAnd oft he sighd & oft he groand — The morning beamd aroundHe claspt the bauldrick round his breast He seizd the glittrand spearHe graspd the shield & viewd the dints And dropt the heartfelt tearShield of my sire ah why so oft Preserve this wretched life?Far better thus to die than see Matilda Birthands wife.They mount their steeds — across the plain The steeds impatient fly —High shines the bright meridian sun — Lord Birthands towers are nigh.Lord Birthand mounts the winding stairs And casts around his kenI see far off from Arwins hall The friendly troop of menResplendant shine their armors bright Their banners wave in airI see the vassals all — but ah Sir Arwin is not thereWhy Hugo droops thy duteous head? Thy master will be here.Fond Hugo sighd & shook his head And dropt the silent tear.When lo swift hastning oer the plain Sir Arwin speeds alongHe spurs in haste his eager steed And joins the vassal throng.Welcome my friend belovd to me And welcome to my brideSir Arwin only prest his hand He prest his hand & sighd.Forth from the castle Hugo broke Full happy man was he —He ran to greet his honord Lord And clasp his masters knee.Rise Hugo rise Sir Arwin cried My friend & servant riseThe faithful Hugo instant rose And wipt his streaming eyesThe hospitable servants saw And brought me to their LordAnd vain was each attempt to seek To fly the friendly boardTo day — no more Sir Arwin cried No more of her too dearI come not Hugo to repine Nor play the woman hereForth to the monastry they go Lord Birthand high in prideAnd oft & aye his beaming eyes Gazd on his beauteous brideShe like the violet that bends Beneath the suns hot flamePerceivd his fond his eager gaze The rosy blushes came.The sacred pile opes wide its gates The bride approaches near —Sir Arwin starts — looks up to heavn And wipes away the tear.High chaunts the mass — their hands are <joind.> My friends — our part is oer.May heavn on you each blessing shed When Arwin is no more.He said & cast his bauldrick off And laid his sword asideAnd down he flung his clanging shield And gazd on Birthands bride.Lady — for thee I hopd to dare With pride each listed fieldFor thee — to break the hostile lance And pierce the adverse shieldArms of my sire farewell too weak To shield save this bleeding heartToo weak alas to shield my breast From Loves enrankling dart.Forth from the throng with frantic speed The faithful Hugo fliesOh stay my lovd my honord Lord Resume thyself he cries —Together in thy fathers wall We learnt to wield the spearTogether since to manhood grew — — Ah — go not from me hereAh do not from the world & me In madness thus depart —That hour that rends thee from the world Will break thy Hugos heartHigh blazd ... heart: Verses written in three
columns.What means this action friend belovd? Lord Birthand eager cried —Friend of my soul ah yet return — The tears ran down his bride.Stay Arwin stay — with faultring voice The fair Matilda saidAnd does Matilda bid me stay? Sir Arwin hung his headLong has thy image lovd too dear By Arwin been adordMay every blissful hour attend Matilda & her Lord.Amid the solemn convents walls Shall Arwin seek for peaceAnd pour to heavn the fervent prayr Till Life & Passion cease.Hugo no more — Matilda lovd No more torment this breastThis bosom still in every form Too much by thee possestHugo if ever thou didst love Thy friend now show it here —If ever thou didst prove my faith Wipe off the enerving tear.Thine be my hall & stately towers — Protect the helpless poorAnd be to them now he is gone What Arwin was beforeHere shall he pour in grateful praise To heavn his vital breathAnd here I trust contented wait The friendly stroke of death. What means ... death: These lines are written
in single column.
—————————————————: The poem is separated from the main text of the letter (on
the right) by a box drawn around it.
So far from Bristol. behold me now my friend entered under the banners of science or stupidity which you please &
like a recruit got sober looking back to the days that are past & feeling something like regret.
would you think it possible that the wise founders of an English University should forbid us to wear boots! what
matters it whether I study in shoes or boots — to me it is a matter of indifference but folly so ridiculous puts me out of conceit with
the whole — when the foundation is bad the fabric must be weak.
none of my friends are yet arrivd & as for common acquaintance I do not wish them. solitude I do not dislike for I
fear it not but there is a certain Dæmon named Reflection that accompanies whose arrows though they rankle not with the poison of guilt
are yet pointed by Melancholy. I feel myself entered upon a new scene of life & whatever the generality of Oxonians conceive to me
it appears a very serious æra. four years hence & I am called into orders & during that period (short for the attainment of the
requisite duties) how much have I to learn! I must learn to break a rebellious spirit which neither Authority or Oppression ever could
bow — it would be easier to break my neck. I must learn to work a problem instead of writing an ode — I must learn to cringe to those
whom I despise & to pay respect to men only remarkable for great wigs & little wisdom. I must learn to abuse Thomas PaineThomas Paine (1737–1809; DNB), English radical and author of The Rights of Man (1791–1792). — to worship Edmund BurkeEdmund
Burke, English politician and author of the conservative Reflections on the Revolution in France
(1790). — to revile Dr PriestlyJoseph Priestley (1733–1804;
DNB), Unitarian minister, scientist and radical. — to damn the National Convention — to speak
well of Dr Vincent & to understand St Athanasiuss
creed.Statement of Christian orthodoxy drawn up c. AD 500 and attributed to the Greek
theologian St Athanasius (AD 293–373). quid Romæ faciam? mentore nescio!Juvenal,
Satire 3, line 41. This translates as ‘What will I do at Rome? I don’t know how to tell lies’.
the name of that Saint whose life (at least part of it) was as incomprehensible as his productions has brought me into many a dilemma.
the present madness of party has so combined his creed with the doctrines of Christ that who doubts the first is now immediately
thought to despise the last my maxim always shall be (at least I hope so) to practise the virtues it inculcates & reflect not upon
the mysteries it contains of the sanctity of those mysteries I know nothing — their incomprehensibility is evident — Athanasius the
reputed author of that stumbling block confessed he understood them not — TillotsonJohn
Tillotson (1630–1694; DNB), Archbishop of Canterbury, was reputed to have wished that the church was rid of
the Athanasian creed. wishd the creed expunged from the liturgy — yet the one was a Saint & the other an Archbishop.
This day has been a most unpleasant one all except the earlier part of the morning when I read your favourite Horace.
that beginning Qualem ministrum fulminis alitemHorace, Odes, Book 4,
no. 4, line 1. The Latin translates as ‘Like the winged deliverer of the thunderbolt’. struck me as well adapted to the
present times & I think I shall attempt it this week — certain of falling as much short of Horace as his subject will be inferior
to mine. notwithstanding the admiration with which I read his works there is a something in the character of the little fat parasite
which sullies it very much. I do not know in the annals of history & barbarity any character which I so much abhor as that of the
vain the vile Augustus — the death of Cicero the banishment of OvidMarcus Tullius Cicero
(106–43 BC) was murdered because of his opposition to the Second Triumvirate, of which Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus (63 BC–AD 14;
reigned 30 BC–AD 14), later the Emperor Augustus, was a member. Publius Ovidius Naso (43 BC–AD 17) was exiled by Augustus. —
the black boys & the incestuous daughterJulia (39 BC–AD 14), only daughter of the Emperor
Augustus, was notorious for her debauched lifestyle. The Emperor Caligula (AD 12–41; reigned AD 37–41), alleged she had committed
incest with her father. the total suppression of liberty these are blots which all the art of Flattery cannot hide from the
eye of Reason. “with the same hand & probably with the same frame of mind did he sign the proscription of Cicero & the pardon
of Cinna”A paraphrase of Edward Gibbon (1737–1794; DNB), The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 12 vols (London, 1788), I, p. 86. A copy of this
edition was in Southey’s library, Sale Catalogues of Libraries of Eminent Persons, gen. ed. A. N. L. Munby,
vol. 9 Poets and Men of Letters, ed. Roy Park (London, 1974), p. 138. Gnaeus Cornelius Cinna Magnus (before
47 BC–after AD 35) was involved in a conspiracy against Augustus in AD 4 but was pardoned. — you remember Gibbons remark upon
Augustuss appearance at the banquet in that very elegant piece of the virtuous Julian.Edward
Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 12 vols (London, 1788), I, p. 86 n. 26.
Julianus, the Apostate (331/2–363; reigned 361–363), Roman emperor.
the name of Julian reminds me of Collins long lost letter which
I have this day received. he need <not> fear that I shall become a philosopher of the MillThe traditional song sometimes known as ‘The Miller of Dee’, particularly its lines ‘I care for nobody, no not I,/ If
nobody cares for me’. — I am not yet philosopher of the world enough to wish it. but Collins I hourly expect & though it
be an easy matter to make out a letter from him to you will desist. your last is here before me — the oftner I read your ode the more I
like it & lament its shortness — In mazes high & low in cadence soft & strong — this line is exactly what Pope wished — the
sound echoes the senseA paraphrase of Alexander Pope (1688–1744; DNB), ‘An Essay on Criticism’ (1711), line 365. to particularize all the beauties were tedious I will only mention
“mirths fantastic round & Or Melancholys thought profound — these lines remind one of Milton — will it be vain to hope one day like
him to defend the cause of mankind & despise the power of monarchs? but politicks I will not begin — you shall have my really free
reflections one day & instead of dazzling you with stars or bewildering you in the maze of metaphysics if you will only follow the
straight path I am content. Truth came naked out of the well — with me she shall be only simplex munditusHorace, Odes, Book 1, no. 5, line 4, sometimes translated as ‘excellent in simplicity’, or
from Milton, ‘plain in thy neatness’. — Mr BurkeEdmund Burke, politician and author
of the conservative Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790). has so bedizend out Falshood
that it takes much trouble & time to get a sight of her real form.
to day I have been unpacking & laying out money. tomorrow I make my appearance before a set of fellows each of whom
will think me a fool for wearing my hair as God sent it & not getting drunk with him — I do not feel ashamed of myself & yet it
is not agreeable to go into hall among them all staring at me who shall stare any where to avoid them. then I must go to chapel god
knows how often! but I shall see Combe & for the rest cry out with the Miller
I care for nobody not not I if nobody cares for me.The
traditional song sometimes known as ‘The Miller of Dee’.
the scout has just been here to know about my supper. you are only allowed bread & cheese in your rooms here &
he asked me if I would have a halfpenny worth or a pennyworth — you may guess my surprize — but twopence is all I can have — many a
worthier person wants that — why then should I repine! two sleepless nights & three busy days have fatigued me — my eyes ache and I
really want rest — MasonThe poet and gardener William Mason (1725–1797; DNB). could write a fine drowsy ode to Sleep I think — the deity however seems coming to me without invocation.
he shall not be a loser — but I must be more e[MS torn]
Sunday. just done breakfast.
Dear Bedford Ive just made a pretty commenceGod grant me I pray University sense!God help me & mend me for I want amendingBut listen & hear what is worth your attending.Come Genius of Dullness to Oxford so dearI need not call loud for Im sure you are nearCome murky dark vapors & viel oer my brainShall not Southey at Baliol be one of thy trainIm now in thy garb — thy long sleevd sable spread —The trencher but fit for a cold College headThis trencher to wear which I never desireThat chills een this brain of such furious fireCome along & possess me then hap ill or hap wellIll speak of a subject will please thee — of chapel!Yes Dullness I see thee — I know thee of yoreI see & I recognise — gaze & adore —By thy full sleevd black gown — by thy still blacker heartWhere Genius nor Virtue possess one small part —By thy cauliflowrd wig frizzled full — such a oneAs is worn in Deans Yard by thy favourite sonBy all these church bells that now make my heada[MS torn]Ah I must be gone or another mistake ½ past twelve — Already to trespass! so soon to beginThus early gainst statutes & customs to sinTo leave duties & Doctors at once in the lurchIn the morning be late & at noon to skip Church!!!But Order at least in a college should reignCome Dullness & Order come manage the strainLast night quite fatigued — with a pain in my headI was heartily glad to get into my bedAnd for fear lest by chance I might hap to sleep lateJeremiah my scout was to wake me eer eight —For you must know Bedford if upon this dayIn the morning from chapel we happen to strayWe lose the whole term as if we were away —What I dreamt of no matter — I opend my eyesAnd for want of a fire wait for Jerry to riseLong I lay listening still to the bells all aroundNor heeded them all for I knew not the soundAt last it seemd late so I quietly roseAnd began very gently to put on my cloathsIn comes Jeremiah — Good Lord Sir your’e lateThe chapels begun & tis sometime past eightAnd if the first lesson should now be begunLord have mercy upon us the term is undone!Half drest without neckcloth or combing my hairI slipt on my gown & was instantly there —But quite raw & not knowing where I ought to comeOn the first vacant seat down I squatted my b-m.All stard & all laughd this odd conduct to viewI thought of the MillerA reference to the traditional song sometimes known
as ‘The Miller of Dee’, particularly its lines ‘I care for nobody, no not I,/ If nobody cares for me’. & so I laughd
too —For tho the reader stood up & had opend his jawsI came neck or nothing & just nickd the laws.I came back — eat my breakfast & took up my penAnd went on as you see with my letter againBut Nature calld out — no resisting her call —More powerful than Doctors Deans Devils & allLike Columbus to seek a new mansionChristopher Columbus (1451–1506),
putative discoverer of America in 1492. I goWhere to turn where to look where to ask I dont know —I tryd every door every corner & laneAnd at last had the fortune my object to gainAnd when CloacinaThe goddess who presided over the sewers of Rome.
had all I could pay
—————
Collins just has been here — so my pen went away —Once again then I write — from the Scotch Goddess domeBalliol College,
Oxford. Probably an allusion to the widely held, but mistaken, belief that it was a ‘Scotch’ foundation, inaugurated by John
Balliol, King of Scots (c.1248–1314; reigned 1292–1296). In fact, the college was founded by his father, John Balliol (b. before
1208–1268; DNB) and his wife Dervorguilla of Galloway (d. 1290; DNB).To Christ Church I went & there met my friend Combe —So we set to — to what — & what you’ll think no harm onPreferrd conversation to hearing a sermon —Then I went to Wynns rooms whilst Wynn came to meThen calld at the cross little Joseph to seeCame back disappointed & sat down to youSo you have all the whole history — dear Bedford
adieu —
I made my appearance at dinner immediately after Wynn left me
who caught me finishing the above in my own book. here I came off very well — as our hall is repairing & in the room appropriated
for eating Liberty & Equality are prevalent. of politics once more — your arguments have not convinced me & the obstacles must
be strong that can oppose conviction where it is even wished — too answer I did purpose seriously but
the age of eighteen is too young to go deep enough & I have <not> even yet been sufficiently convinced of the depravity of
human Nature to admit of arguments which will be <urged> against the speculative ideas of philosophy. do not then I intreat you
do not begin the subject again — believe me I wish to decline it for I feel that here are other duties — at the same if I cannot fill a
letter otherwise I do not deserve your correspondence. observations upon a collegiate life & an account of mine as minute as can be
without growing tedious will supply their place. Collins whom the more I know
the more I love & respect will be much with me — we will conform to customs but keep each other in coutenance in the total
disregard of ceremonies (among the scholars I name) equally disagreeable & disgraceful we shall read compare & improve together
& I trust at some future period look back to the years spent at college with the pleasing reflection that they were spent in doing
our duties.