The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey
Robert Southey to Grosvenor C. Bedford, 16 March 1793
“I am now sitting without fire in a cold day, waiting
for Wynn to go upon the Isis,
‘silver-slippered queen,’ as Warton calls her; the epithet may be
176 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE | Ætat. 19. |
classical, but it certainly is ridiculous. Of all poetical figures the
prosopopoeia is that most likely to be adopted by a savage nation, and which
adds most ornament, but not to composition; but in the name of common sense,
what appropriate idea does ‘silver-slippered’ convey?
Homer’s Χρυσοπέδιλος* probably
alludes to some well-known statue so habited. Nature is a much better guide
than antiquity.
“Wednesday.
“On the water I went yesterday, in a little skiff, which
the least deviation from the balance would overset. To manage two oars and yet
unable to handle one!† My first setting off was curious. I did not step
exactly in the middle, the boat tilted up, and a large barge from which I
embarked alone saved me from a good ducking; my arm, however, got completely
wet. I tugged at the oar very much like a bear in a boat; or, if you can
conceive any thing more awkward, liken me to it, and you will have a better
simile. . . . . When I walk over these streets what various recollections
throng upon me, what scenes fancy delineates from the hour when Alfred first marked it as the seat of learning!
Bacon’s study is demolished,
so I shall never have the honour of being killed by its fall; before my window
Latimer and Ridley were burnt, and there is not even a
stone to mark the place where a monument should be erected
* “Άργυρόπεζα” would
have been nearer the mark. Warton was imitating Milton, who uses the term
“tinsel-slippered.” † My father used to say he learned two things
only at Oxford,—to row and to swim. |
Ætat. 19. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 177 |
to religious liberty. . . . . I have walked over the ruins
of Godstow Nunnery with sensations such as the site of Troy or Carthage would
inspire; a spot so famed by our minstrels, so celebrated by tradition, and so
memorable in the annals of legendary, yet romantic truth. Poor Rosamond! some unskilful impostor has painted an
epitaph upon the chapel wall, evidently within this century; the precise spot
where she lies is forgotten, and the traces are still visible of a subterranean
passage—perhaps the scene of many a deed of darkness; but we should
suppose the best:—surely amongst the tribe who were secluded from the
world, there may have been some whose motives were good among so many victims
of compulsion and injustice. Do you recollect Richardson’s plan for Protestant nunneries?* To monastic
foundations I have little attachment; but were the Colleges ever to be reformed
(and reformation will not come before it is wanted), I would have a little more
of the discipline kept up. Temperance is much wanted; the waters of Helicon are
far too much polluted by the wine of Bacchus ever to produce any effect. With
respect to its superiors, Oxford only exhibits waste of wigs and want of
wisdom; with respect to undergraduates, every species of abandoned excess.
* “Considering the condition of single women in
the middle classes, it is not speaking too strongly to assert that the
establishment of Protestant nunneries upon a wide plan, and liberal
scale, would be the greatest benefit that could possibly be conferred
upon these kingdoms. The name, indeed, is deservedly obnoxious, for
nunneries, such as they exist in Roman Catholic countries, and such as
at this time are being re-established in this, are connected with the
worst corruptions of popery, being only nurseries of superstition and
of misery.”—Southey’s Colloquies, vol. i. p. 338. |
178 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE | Ætat. 19. |
As for me, I regard myself too much to run into the vices
so common and so destructive. I have not yet been drunk, nor mean to be so.
What use can be made of a collegiate life I wish to make; but in the midst of
all, when I look back to Rousseau, and
compare myself either with his Emilius or
the real pupil of Madame Brulenck, I feel ashamed and
humbled at the comparison. Never shall child of mine enter a public school or a
university. Perhaps I may not be able so well to instruct him in logic or
languages, but I can at least preserve him from vice.
Yours sincerely,
Robert Southey.”
Homer (850 BC fl.)
Poet of the
Iliad and
Odyssey.
John Milton (1608-1674)
English poet and controversialist; author of
Comus (1634),
Lycidas (1638),
Areopagitica (1644),
Paradise Lost (1667), and other works.
Samuel Richardson (1689-1761)
English printer and novelist; author of
Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded
(1739) and
Clarissa, or the History of a Young Lady
(1747-48).
Nicholas Ridley, bishop of London (1502-1555)
Protestant martyr during the reign of Queen Mary; he figures prominently in John Foxe's
Actes and Monuments (1563). He was bishop of Rochester (1547)
and bishop of London (1550).
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)
Swiss-born man of letters; author of, among others,
Julie ou la
Nouvelle Heloïse (1761),
Émile (1762) and
Les Confessions (1782).
Thomas Warton (1728-1790)
English scholar and poet; author of
The Pleasures of Melancholy
(1747),
Observations on the Fairy Queen of Spenser (1754),
The History of English Poetry, 3 vols (1774-78). He succeeded
William Whitehead as poet laureate in 1785.
Charles Watkin Williams Wynn (1775-1850)
The son of Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, fourth baronet; educated at Westminster and Christ
Church, Oxford, Robert Southey's friend and benefactor was a Whig MP for Old Sarum (1797)
and Montgomeryshire (1799-1850). He was president of the Board of Control (1822-28).