3925. Robert Southey to [Bernard Barton], 26 November 1822
MS untraced; text is taken from Kenneth Curry (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (London and New York, 1965)
Previously published: Kenneth Curry (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (London and New York, 1965), II, pp. 239–240.
Thank you for your portrait, which I am glad to see and glad to think that it probably indicates another edition of your poems.
I should guess that the painter has not done his part so well as the engraver. It would have been more characteristic if he had taken you with your hat on – the costume as it now is might be mistaken for that of a Methodist preacher.
Your verses upon Shelley (for which I thank you also) are either at Longmans, or on their way from him.
I knew that miserable man and am well acquainted with his dreadful history. He resided here for some months
with his wife, soon after their marriage – that wife whom he perverted to atheism, and abandoned when he went to live with Godwins daughter – his present widow.
She was thoroughly corrupted by him, followed the example which he had set her, and then in shame at the consequences, threw herself into the Thames.
Two years ago Shelley wrote to me, demanding whether I were the author of a paper concerning him in the Quarterly Review.
I took the opportunity which my denial afforded of reading him a lecture.
This produced a sort of controversial reply, and then I read him a second, bringing home to him the fatal effects of his principles.
His story, taking it altogether, is the most flagitious and the most tragic which I have known in real life. You will probably see some of my household
ere long at Clarksons, and they will tell you more of him. By the bye he was remarkably like Mr Clarkson, tho upon a small scale. His eyes were set in the same manner, and the resemblance between son and father could not be stronger.
Shelley was not, like Lord Byron, wicked by disposition. His actual feelings I believe to have been kind and generous. But he adopted the Devils own philosophy that nothing ought to stand in the way of his gratifications, and to this he acted up.
What a dreadful thought of his wife’s fate must have come upon him, when he saw himself about to perish by water!
His body was much mutilated when it was cast ashore.
The fish had half devoured it.
He was the least mischievous of the three “Liberals”.
His writings were not bad enough in some respects to do much harm, and far too bad in others. What merit they had was of too high a kind to be attractive, and their obscurity and extravagance served in some degree to sheath the poison which they contained. Farewell, and believe me Yrs truly
Robert Southey.