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Plan your visit. 225 Madison Avenue at 36th Street, New York, NY 10016.

Letter from Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Nether Stowey, to Robert Southey, circa 1797 July 17 : autograph manuscript signed.

BIB_ID
415158
Accession number
MA 1848.20
Creator
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 1772-1834.
Display Date
Nether Stowey, England, circa 1797 July 17.
Credit line
Purchased from Joanna Langlais, 1957.
Description
1 item (4 pages, with address) ; 34 x 21.2 cm
Notes
Coleridge does not list a date of writing. In the Collected Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Griggs surmises that the letter was written on or around July 17, 1797. See the published edition of the correspondence, cited below, for additional information.
No place of writing is given on the letter, but it is postmarked "Bridgewater." Based on references in the letter, it was written at Nether Stowey, where the Coleridges were living during this period.
Contains a draft of the poem "This Lime-tree Bower my Prison," with notes on it in the margins and autograph cancellations and additions.
This collection, MA 1848, is comprised of 92 letters from Samuel Taylor Coleridge to Robert Southey, written between 1794 and 1819. See the collection-level record for more information (MA 1848.1-92).
This letter is from the Joanna Langlais Collection, a large collection of letters written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge to various recipients. The collection has been divided into subsets, based primarily on Coleridge's addressees, and these sub-collections have been cataloged as MA 1848-1857.
Address panel with postmarks: "Robert Southey / at Mrs Barnes's / Burton, near Ringwood / Hampshire / Single."
Provenance
Purchased from Joanna Langlais in 1957 as a gift of the Fellows, with the special assistance of Mrs. W. Murray Crane, Mr. Homer D. Crotty, Mr. and Mrs. Donald F. Hyde, Mr. Robert H. Taylor and Mrs. Landon K. Thorne. Formerly in the possession of Ernest Hartley Coleridge and Thomas Burdett Money-Coutts, Baron Latymer.
Summary
Saying that Southey is acting kindly by putting together an edition of Thomas Chatterton's poems to benefit the poet's sister, but expressing doubts about the potential success of the idea; arguing that Chatterton's poems were never that popular to begin with, that sales were never high, that there are two other editions already available, that "these are bad times" and that the assistance will come too slowly to truly help her; suggesting a subscription instead and writing "It is unpleasant to cast a damp on any thing; but that benevolence alone is likely to be beneficent, which calculates"; saying that if Southey nevertheless persists with the idea, he will "shake off my sloth & use my best muscles in gaining subscribers"; promising to write a preliminary essay and to attempt a poem on the life and death of Chatterton, but insisting that "the Monody must not be reproduced" (referring to his poem "Monody on the Death of Chatterton"); criticizing the Monody and another poem, "Songs of the Pixies," severely and saying that they would never have appeared in the second edition of his volume Poems on Various Subjects except for "dear [Joseph] Cottle's solicitous importunity"; writing "But so it is. A young man by strong feelings is impelled to write on a particular subject -- and this is all, his feelings do for him. They set him upon the business & then they leave him. -- He has such a high idea, of what Poetry ought to be, that he cannot conceive that such things as his natural emotions may be allowed to find a place in it -- his learning therefore, his fancy, or rather conceit, and all his powers of buckram are put on the stretch"; saying that he is glad to hear that all the copies of Southey's volume of poetry have sold; criticizing the choice of a particular verb in one poem and discussing his dedication to the volume; saying that he has brought the Wordsworths back to Nether Stowey with him and found and rented "a gentleman's seat" (Alfoxden House) for them; describing the property and the surrounding area; writing "Wordsworth is a very great man -- the only man, to whom at all times & in all modes of excellence I feel myself inferior -- the only one, I mean, whom I have yet met with -- for the London Literati appear to me to be very much like little Potatoes -- i.e. not great Things! -- a compost of Nullity & Dullity"; mentioning that Charles Lamb has been with him for a week and left on Friday morning; saying that his wife Sara accidentally emptied a skillet of boiling milk on his foot, which has kept him confined throughout Lamb's stay; saying that when William, Dorothy and Charles were out for a walk one evening, he wrote a poem ("with which I am pleased") while sitting in the arbor of Thomas Poole's garden; giving the text of "This Lime-tree Bower my Prison"; saying that he would try to visit them if he thought he could persuade them to come back with him; describing his driving: "I have driven about the country a great deal lately -- & brought back Miss Wordsworth over forty miles of execrable road: & have always been a very cautious & am now no inexpert whip"; saying that Wordsworth has offered the Southeys rooms at Alfoxden, "& so divine & wild is the country that I am sure it would increase your stock of images -- & three weeks' absence from Christ Church will endear it to you -- & Edith Southey & Sara may not have another opportunity of seeing each other -- & Wordsworth is very solicitous to know you -- & Miss Wordsworth is a most exquisite young woman in her mind, & heart"; asking him to write and giving the address as "Stowey near Bridgewater"; commenting on news of mutual friends (Favell, Le Grice, Allen) in a postscript.