The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey
Robert Southey to Grosvenor C. Bedford, 12 February [1793]
“Saturday, Feb. 12., 5 in the morning.
“Now, Bedford,
this is more than you would do for me,—quit your bed after only five
hours’ rest, light a fire, and then write a letter; really I think it
would not have tempted me to rise unless assisted by other inducements. To-day
I am going to walk to Abingdon with three men of this college; and having made
the pious resolution (your good health in a glass of
Ætat. 19. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 173 |
red
negus) of rising every morning at five to study, that the rest of the day may
be at my own disposal, I procured an alarum clock and a tinder-box. This
morning was the first. I rose, called up a neighbour, and read about three
hundred lines of Homer, when I found myself
hungry; the bread and cheese were called in as auxiliaries, and I made some
negus: as I spiced it my eye glanced over the board, and the assemblage seemed
so curious that I laid all aside for your letter,—a lexicon,
Homer, inkstand, candles, snuffers, wine, bread and
cheese, nutmeg grater, and hour-glass. But I have given up time enough to my
letter, the glass runs fast, and for once the expression is not merely
figurative.
“Monday.
“How rapidly does Time hasten on when his wings are not
clogged by melancholy! Perhaps no human being ever more forcibly experienced
this than myself; often have I counted the hours with impatience when, tired of
reflection and all her unpleasant train, I wished to forget myself in sleep.
Now I allow but six hours to my bed, and every morning before the watchman
rises, my fire is kindled and my bed cold: this is practical
philosophy—but every thing is valued by comparison, and when compared
with my neighbour, I am no philosopher. Two years ago Seward drank wine, and eat butter and sugar;
now, merely from the resolution of abridging the luxuries of life, water is his
only drink, tea and dry bread his only breakfast. In one who professed
philosophy this would be only practising its tenets, but it is quite different
with Seward. To the most odd and uncommon ap-
174 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE | Ætat. 19. |
pearance he adds manners, which, as one gets accustomed to
them are the most pleasing. At the age of fourteen he began learning, and the
really useful knowledge he possesses must be imputed to a mind really desirous
of improvement. ‘Do you not find your attention flag?’ I
said to him as he was studying Hutchinson’s Moral Philosophy in Latin.
‘If our tutors would but make our studies interesting we should
pursue them with pleasure.’ ‘Certainly we
should,’ he replied; ‘but I feel a pleasure in studying them
because I know it is my duty.’ This I take to be true philosophy,
of that species which tends to make mankind happy, because it first makes them
good. We had verses here upon the 30th of January to the memory of Charles the Martyr. It is a little extraordinary
that you should quote those very lines to poor Louis which I prefixed to my ode: ‘His virtues plead
like angels, trumpet-tongued, against the deep damnation of his taking
off.’ . . . . Morose austerity and stern enthusiasm are the
characteristics of superstition; but what is in reality more cheerful or happy
than Religion? I have in my own knowledge more than one instance of this, and
doubt not you have likewise. Ought not, therefore, that wretch who styles
himself a philosopher to be shunned like pestilence, who, because Christianity
has to him no allurement, seeks to deprive the miserable of their only
remaining consolation? . . . . I keep a daily journal for myself, as an account
of time which I ought to be strict in; but this being only destined for my own
eye, is uninteresting and unimportant. Boswell might compile a few quartos from the loose memorandums,
Ætat. 19. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 175 |
but they would tire the world more than he has already
done. Twenty years hence this journal will be either a source of pleasure or of
regret; that is, if I live twenty years, and for life I have really a very
strong predilection; not from Shakspeare’s fearfully beautiful
passage:—‘Aye, but to die and go we know not
whither,’ but from the hope that my life may be serviceable to my
family, and happy to myself; if it be the longer life the better, existence
will be delightful, and anticipation glorious. The idea of meeting a different
fate in another world is enough to overthrow every Atheistical doctrine. The
very dreadful trials under which virtue so often labours must surely be only
trials; patience will withstand the pressure, and faith will lead to hope.
Religion soothes every wound and makes the bed of death a couch of felicity.
Make the contrast yourself: look at the warrior, the hypocrite, and the
libertine, in their last moments, and reflection must strengthen every virtuous
resolution. May I, however, practise what I preach. Let me have 200l. a year and the comforts of domestic life, and my
ambition aspires not further.
Most sincerely yours,
Robert Southey.”
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.
James Boswell (1740-1795)
Scottish man of letters, author of
The Life of Samuel Johnson
(1791).
King Charles I of England (1600-1649)
The son of James VI and I; as king of England (1625-1649) he contended with Parliament;
he was revered as a martyr after his execution.
Homer (850 BC fl.)
Poet of the
Iliad and
Odyssey.
Francis Hutcheson (1694-1746)
Born in Ulster, he was Professor of Moral Philosophy at the University of Glasgow and an
instigator of the Scottish Enlightenment.
Louis XVI, king of France (1754-1793)
King of France 1774-1793; the husband of Marie Antoinette, he was guillotined 21 January
1793.
Edmund Seward (1771 c.-1795)
The son of John Seward of Sapey, Worcestershire; he was educated at Balliol College,
Oxford where he befriended Robert Southey.