1475. Robert Southey to Anna Seward, 4 July 1808 ⁠* 

Keswick. July 4. 1808

M^r Wolseley [1]  sent me your welcome letter yesterday morning, & showed me the extract from M^r Mundys [2]  in the evening, when he & his Lady did us the favour of drinking tea in my library. They are not likely to remain here; the lodgings which they had pre-engaged prove to be ill-situated & worse accommodated, & there seems little hope of their procuring any better. I am unluckily a prisoner in the house which prevents me from showing them some of our home scenery, as I should otherwise gladly have done. A violent catarrh seized be me by the nose a fortnight ago; this complaint is with me a very severe one, – the slightest exposure to air or sunshine renews & increases it; fits of sneezing eight – ten – twelve times successively shake me from head to foot, & the house from top to bottom, – & leave me bathed in perspiration; – my eyes suffer, – & all I can do is to sit in a darkened room & play a solo upon the pocket-handkerchief from morning till night.

I will tell you freely & fairly the impression which M^r French’s squib [3]  upon Wordsworth leaves upon my mind. You know that I am not blind to Wordsworths faults; – nor familiar as we are with each other, is there that kind of intimacy between us which would be likely in any degree to blind me. But when I see a man take up the Poems of W. & passing over pieces of such beauty as the Tintern Abbey, – the Leech-Gatherer, – the Brothers, Michael, the Song at Brougham Castle &c., fix upon the weeds of the collection, [4]  & join in with the yelping pack of curs who are attempting to hunt him down, – I cannot but feel that it is no mark of a generous or a good spirit. If M^r French does not admire, & greatly admire, the greater number of these poems, he does not know what poetry is; – in that case his satire is the effect of that common dislike which xx bad poets normally feel towards good ones. But if he has any sense of the merit of these better poems, something of more importance than the understanding will be found in fault. This is a malicious age, an age of slander & of selfishness, & the spirit of the age has infected him. What would he think of a critic who if Milton were mentioned, should immediately begin to ridicule his psalms, & his translation from Horace? [5]  What does every Englishman think of Voltaires criticisms upon Shakespere? [6]  & just such is the jeu d’esprit  [7]  of M^r French: – I give it a French name, for any English one would be too good for its witlessness. – What is the consequence of this prevailing disposition to ridicule the defects of men of genius, instead of giving them the fair praise which they deserve? That those persons who take their opinions from others are deterred from purchasing the books, & the author is disheartened from laying any thing more before an ungrateful generation. This is the case with Wordsworth: he has stopt the publication of his White Doe, [8]  & it is more than probable that, tho he will continue to write as long as he lives, what he writes will be reserved for an age in which justice will be done him. With respect to myself, these things give me no pain as they do him, but they inflict upon me a heavier injury. I cannot subsist with the profits of my pen & in consequence of the total failure of Madoc, [9]  it is tho whole years elapsed in which I did not write a single verse, & in all probability I never should have written another, had it not been for that chance meeting with Landor. Assuredly now I shall go on from poem to poem, but unless I can previously secure the fair price of the manual labour bestowed upon them, not one of them shall go into the world, till I am gone out of it. By this means at least I can lay by some provision for my children, & elude the absurd laws of copyright, which would otherwise rob them of my <the> property just when it will begin to be valuable.

To what you say of the unlucky subject of Joan of Arc [10]  I fully & unequivocally assent. It will always impede my national reputation; at the same time it will gain for me the more desirable applause of those whose morality is not confined within geographical limits. The double negatives to which you justly object are the sins of my youth, – when I thought it <such phraseology> must be good because it was to be found in Milton. – There is nothing I think in the 4^th edition so fine as the introduction of the Maid in this. [11] 

The first specimen of narration in irregular rhymes is the Gideon of Aaron Hill: [12]  but his powers were not equal to what he undertook. I versified two Spanish stories in this manner in 1802, – incorrect copies of which are very likely to be found in the Poetical Register under the titles of Garci Ferrandez, & King Ramiro. [13]  But whenever I have the pleasure of showing you Kehama, [14]  you will I think see new modes of rhyming, in which the ear only, & not the eye has been consulted. The line rhyming to its own middle is common common to <in> the ballad stanza. I have not unfrequently thrown rhymes into the middle of the verse, & sometimes made the beginning & end correspond with good effect.

This is an unintelligible extract, but you will give me credit for being previously explained in the poem itself all that requires explanation, – & I have merely copied it to show you what a noise one may make with these bells when it is proper to chime them: – you may judge what an uproar there will be when Kehama drives his brazen chariot in triumph over the burning pavement of Hell.

I very much wish you would amuse yourself & gratify very many persons by collecting your poetical works, many of which are not now procurable. It is better you should do this yourself, than leave it to be done after you, – at what I hope is yet a distant time: because as the proof sheets past under your eye, xxxxxx little improvements might probably suggest themselves, & your own annotations would necessarily be far more valuable than those of any other person. [17] 

The Simpsons [18]  should not have said that I complained of your too-abundant praises. I said that they embarrassed me, & that I knew not how to reply to them, – on this you will readily concede <understand>, & must have perceived; – their full sincerity I never doubted. My own manners sin in the contrary extreme. I have seen so much base flattery in the world, that the fear of being approaching towards that detestable habit has often makes gives me the appearance of coldness & suppression; – & any obnoxious opinions which I happen to have, are sure to find their way beyond what Homer calls the barriers of the [MS obscured]eth, least any persons should suspect me of endeavouring to conceal them.

One word of politics. I have long said that if the deliverance of Europe were to take place in y our days, there was no country in which it was so likely to begin as Spain: because in no other country was <is> there such a feeling of patriotism. From the old coalitions against France I had never the slightest hope; first I rejoiced in their defeature, because of their detestable object; latterly I xxxx despaired of their success, because of the miserable cabinets in which they originated. But the spirit of liberty has now broken out, & it is neither the shameful negligence of this ministry in assisting it, nor all the power of Bonaparte, mighty as he is, that can destroy that indestructible spirit. Spain will deli[MS obscured] itself, & I shall yet live to sing a Nunc dimittis, – which will not be premature like that of D^r Price. –  [19] 

yours very truly

R Southey.