Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Walter Scott to Robert Southey, 13 November 1813
“Edinburgh, November 13, 1813.
“I do not delay, my dear Southey, to say my gratulor. Long may you
live, as Paddy says, to rule over us, and
to redeem the crown of Spenser and of
Dryden to its pristine dignity. I am
only discontented with the extent of your royal revenue, which I thought had
been L.400, or L.300 at the very least. Is there no getting rid of that
iniquitous modus, and requiring the butt in kind? I
would have you think of it: I know no man so well entitled to Xeres sack as
yourself, though many bards would make a better figure at drinking it. I should
think that in due time a memorial might get some relief in this part of the
appointment—it should be at least L.100 wet and L.100 dry. When you have
carried your point of discarding the
ode, and my point of getting the sack, you will be exactly in the situation
of Davy in the farce, who stipulates for
more wages, less work, and the key of the ale-cellar. I was greatly delighted
with the circumstances of your investiture. It reminded me of the porters at
Calais with Dr Smollett’s baggage,
six of them seizing upon one small portmanteau, and bearing it in triumph to
his lodgings. You see what it is to laugh at the superstitions of a
gentleman-usher, as I think you do somewhere. ‘The whirligig of time
brings about his revenges.’
“Adieu, my dear Southey; my best wishes attend all that you do, and my best
congratulations every good that attends you—yea even this, the very least of
Providence’s mercies, as a poor clergyman said when pronouncing grace
over a herring. I should like to know how the prince received you; his address
is said to be excellent, and his knowledge of literature far from despicable.
What a change of fortune even since the short time when we met! The great work
of retribution is now rolling onward to consummation, yet am I not fully
satisfied—pereat iste—there
will be no permanent peace in Europe till Buonaparte sleeps with the tyrants of old. My best compliments
attend Mrs Southey and your family. Ever
yours,
John Dryden (1631-1700)
English poet laureate, dramatist, and critic; author of
Of Dramatick
Poesie (1667),
Absalom and Achitophel (1681),
Alexander's Feast; or the Power of Musique (1697),
The Works of Virgil translated into English Verse (1697), and
Fables (1700).
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
Tobias Smollett (1721-1771)
Scottish physician and man of letters; author of the novels
Roderick
Random (1747) and
Humphry Clinker (1771).
Edith Southey [née Fricker] (1774-1837)
The daughter of Stephen Fricker, she was the first wife of Robert Southey and the mother
of his children; they married in secret in 1795.
Robert Southey (1774-1843)
Poet laureate and man of letters whose contemporary reputation depended upon his prose
works, among them the
Life of Nelson, 2 vols (1813),
History of the Peninsular War, 3 vols (1823-32) and
The Doctor, 7 vols (1834-47).
Edmund Spenser (1552 c.-1599)
English poet, author of
The Shepheards Calender (1579) and
The Faerie Queene (1590, 1596).