Nevertheless, he was steadily acquiring a reputation among the publishers, and could calculate on constant and tolerably remunerative employment. His years now numbered five-and-twenty. He had passed through a difficult youth, but his conduct had been uniformly pure. He had never stooped to the easy palliation of misfortune or impulsive temperament as an excuse for youthful depravity, and in the darkest season had resolutely borne up against despondency. Once only, he had allowed the yearning of affection to stifle prudential warnings; unless, indeed, such an abandonment of self be not in the end man's highest prudence. Experience had chastened his romantic aspirations. His views were becoming more sober and more enlarged. And so, with cheerful brow, he faced the future. The past gave him no cause for regret, and, with his Edith by his side, he could look forward with hope, and love would consecrate toil.
"Madoc" had been commenced before "Joan of Arc" was planned; he now resumed it, and before long, "Thalaba," too, was on the anvil, as with his astonishing facility, one epic was scarcely completed before he was midway in another. His health sank under such continuous labour, and a change of air was imperatively urged by his friends. He was expecting to raise the necessary funds for a trip to Germany by the sale of his "Thalaba," when a strong desire came over him to pay a second visit to Portugal.
In April, 1800, after waiting several days for a fair wind, he embarked at Falmouth, with Mrs. Southey, in the Lisbon packet. The weather was fine, but both the travellers suffered severely from sea-sickness. One morning, to add to their disquietude, a cutter with English colours, but evidently French, was seen bearing down upon them. They signalled; no notice was taken. A gun was fired and immediately answered; an action
