697. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, 25 July 1802 ⁠* 

Grosvenor I do not like the accounts which reach me of your health. Elmsley says you look ill – your friend Smith [1]  tells the same tale – & I know you are not going the way to amendment. instead of that office & regular business you ought to be in the country with no other business than to amuse yourself. a longer stay at Bath would have benefitted you, if the waters were really of service you ought to give them a longer trial. if they were not – a change of climate is what I have always conceived the most effectual remedy for you – because your attention would wholly be occupied by external things. As for ‘it cant be’ & I ‘must be at the office’ & such like phrases – when a man is seriously ill they mean nothing.

Tom is with me. he has been here about a fortnight & kept me in as wholesome xx a state of idleness as I wish you to enjoy.

Since the last semi-letter which I wrote – my state affairs have been settled & my unsecretaryfication compleated. [2]  a good sinecure gone – but instead of thinking the loss unlucky – I only think how lucky it was I ever had it. a light heart & a thin pair of breeches [3]  – you know the song – & it applies for breeches being the generic name, pantaloons are included in all their modifications – & I sit at this present writing in a pair of loose jane trousers without linings. So many virtues were discovered in me, & so many old friendships recollected when I was M^r Secretary – that I suppose nothing short of sedition – privy-conspiracy & rebellion will be found possible reasons for my loss of office. the old Devil will be said to have scattered having taken with him seven other evil spirits  [4] – & the last state of that man (meaning me) will be worse than the first.

But I hope – I am coming to live near London. not in its damned filth – if John May can find me a good snug house about Richmond – then I will go – & write my history [5]  – & work away merrily – & I will drink wine while I can afford it – & when I cannot, strong beer shall be the nectar – nothing like stingo! [6]  & if that were to fail too – laudanum is cheap. the Turks have found that out – & while there are poppies that grow gratis no man need go to bed sober for want of his most gracious Majestys picture. [7]  & there will be a spare bed at my Domus [8]  – mark you that Grosvenor Bedford! & Toms cot into the bargain – & from June till October always a cold Pie in the cupboard. & I have already got a kitten – & a dog in remainder – but that is a contingency – & you know there is the contingency of another house animal [9]  – whom I already feel disposed to call whelp & dogs & all those vocables of vituperation by which a man loves to call those he loves best. Eblis’s Angels sometimes go up to peep into <at> the Table of Fate [10]  & they get knocked on the head with stars – as we see – only foolish people such as we Cafrs  [11]  mistake it for shooting stars. I should like one look at the Table – just to see what will happen before the end of the year – not to the world in general – nor to Europe – nor to Napoleone [12]  – nor to King George [13]  – nor to Governor Aris [14]  – but to the centre of which these xxxxxxx <great men> & these <great> things are very remote radii – to my own microcosm – damn the impudence of that mock-modesty phrase – tis a megalocosm & a megistocosm & a megistotatocosm too to me, & I care more about it than about all the old universe with Mr Herscheles new little planets, [15]  the last Eggs of the old Hen Nature – to boot

vale vale mi sodalis –  [16] 

RS.

Tom desires to be remembered. come to Bath Grosvenor vale vale mi soda [17]  – & then you <know> tis an easy ride to Bristol.

Kingsdown. July 25. 1802.