VANITY FAIR

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 121, 25 May 1931, Page 2

VANITY FAIR

SOUTHEY AT KESWICK No man, having any prelension to genius, ever succeeded in reducing literature to so methodical and sustained a process. It went on with the punctuality and productiveness of a cotton-mill or a nail-fac-i lory; exactly so much rhyming, collating, and proof-reading, and so much of chronicle and correspondence, : in the twenty-four hours. We see Robert Southey, as he paints himself, seated at his desk, in an old blaclr coal, long worsted pantaloons and gaiters m one, and a green shade; and we feel the truth of his own declaration, that this is his history. Occasionally, he goes down to the riverside behind the house, and throws stones until his arms ache, plays with the cat, or takes a mountain walk with the children; his most delightful hour, that in which he sees the handsomely printed title-page that announces his long-mcdilatcd work ready at last to be ushered in elegant attire before the public; his most pleasing excitement to read congratulatory letters from admiring friends, or an appreciative critique in a fresh number of the “Quarterly." Minor pastimes he finds in devising literary castles in the air, projecting epics on suggestive and unused themes, giving here and there a finishing touch to sentence or couplet, possessing himself of a serviceable but rare tome, transcribing a preface with all the conscious dignity of authorship, or a dedication with the complacent zeal of a gifted friend. . . .We see him at long intervals depart for a visit to London to confabulate with literary lions, greet old college-friends, make ew bargains with publishers, and become a temporary diner-out; or he breaks away from domestic and literary employment, in Ins repeal among the hills, for a rapid Continental lour, during which not an incident, a natural fact, an historical reminiscence, a political conjecture, or a wayside phenomenon, is allowed to escape him. Though wearied to the last degree, at nightfall he notes his experience with care, a. material for future use; and I hurries back, with presents for the children and a voluminous diary, to resume his pencraft, until the advent of summer visitors obliges him to exchange awhile the toils of authorship for the duties of hospitality.—From Memoir, Robert Southey, by Henry T. Tuckerman.