De Quincy says that the habits of the poet Southey were exceedingly regular, and that all his literary business was conducted upon a systematic plan. He had his task before breakfast, which, however, must have been an inconsiderable nothing, for it occupied him only an hour, and rarely that, for he never rose until eight, and always breakfasted at nine o’clock. He went to bed precisely at half-past ten, and no sleep short of nine hours, refreshed him, and enabled him to do his work. He usually dined between five and six, and his chief labour was done between breakfast and dinner. If he had visitors, he would sit over his wine, and talk; if not, he retired to his library, until eight, when he was summoned to tea. At ten he read the London papers; “and it was perfectly astonishing,” says De Quincy, “to men of less methodical habits, to find how much he got through of elaborate business, by his unvarying system of arrangement in the distribution of his time.” All his letters were answered on the same day that they arrived. Even his poetry was written by forced efforts, or rather, perhaps, by what De Quincy calls, “a predetermined rule.” It was by writing prose, however, that Southey got his living--made “his pot boil,” as he says; and his chief source of regular income was derived from “The Quarterly Review.” At one time, however, he received £400 a year for writing the historical part of “The Edinburgh Annual Register.” This, however, he gave up, because the publisher proposed to dock £100 from the salary which he had previously paid him.--Southey, however, could afford to lose this large income, because he had an annuity which had been settled upon him by his friend, Charles Wynne, “the brother of Sir Watkin, the great autocrat of Wales.” This annuity, however, when his friend married, Southey voluntarily gave up; and the Granvilles, to whom Wynne was related by his marriage, placed Southey on the civil list, for the sacrifice which he thus made.