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Updated: June 14, 2025
A conviction now also rested on his mind, as there was the prospect of an increase in his family, that he must bestir himself, and effectually call his resolutions into exercise. Soon after he was fairly settled, he sent me the following letter. "My dear Cottle, I have this night and to-morrow for you, being alone, and my spirits calm.
The following is his reply: "'April 17th, 1814. "'DEAR COTTLE: I have seldom in the course of my life felt it so difficult to answer a letter as on the present occasion. There is, however, no alternative. I must sincerely express what I think, and be thankful I am writing to one who knows me thoroughly. "'Of sorrow and humiliation I will say nothing.
My dearest Cottle, ... 'Ill besped' is indeed a sad blotch; but after having tried at least a hundred ways, before I sent the Poem to you, and often since, I find it incurable. This first Poem is but a so so composition. I wonder I could have been so blinded by the ardour of recent composition, as to see anything in it.
You know that I neither lightly undertake any scheme, nor lightly abandon what I have undertaken. I am happy because I have no want, and because the independence I labour to attain, and of attaining which, my expectations can hardly be disappointed, will leave me nothing to wish. I am indebted to you, Cottle, for the comforts of my later time.
Sometimes sickness interfered. "Dear Cottle, A devil, a very devil, has got possession of my left temple, eye, cheek, jaw, throat, and shoulder. I cannot see you this evening. I write in agony. Your affectionate Friend and Brother, Sometimes his other engagements were of a pressing nature. "Dear Cottle, Will you come and drink tea with me, and I will endeavour to get the etc. ready for you.
In 1814 he returned to Bristol, and here the painful narrative of Mr. Cottle comes in: "Is it expedient, is it lawful, to give publicity to Mr. Coleridge's practice of inordinately taking opium; which to a certain extent, at one part of his life, inflicted on a heart naturally cheerful the stings of conscience, and sometimes almost the horrors of despair?
The attention of the reader will now be directed to letters of Mr. Southey, briefly relating to Mr. Coleridge, and to circumstances connected with the publication of the "Early Recollections of S. T. Coleridge," 1837; with a reference to the distressing malady with which Mrs. Southey was afflicted. "Keswick, Feb. 26, 1836. My dear Cottle, ... I never go out but for regular exercise.
"'MY DEAR COTTLE: You may imagine with what feelings I have read your correspondence with Coleridge.
May God bless you, and restore you, my dear old friend, is the sincere prayer of Your affectionate Robert Southey." In the year 1816, Mr. Southey sustained a great loss in the death of his youngest son, a boy of promising talent, and endued with every quality which could attach a father's heart. Mr. S. thus announced the melancholy tidings. "Keswick, May 23, 1816. My dear Cottle,
Clayfield came from the closet with the letter in his hand, and asked, 'Is not this your hand-writing? Chatterton then, in a state of confusion, fell upon his knees, and heard in sullen silence, the suitable remarks on his conduct. God bless you. Yours affectionately, Robert Southey." "Bristol, Sept. 1802. Dear Cottle,
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