diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 19:06:50 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 19:06:50 -0800 |
| commit | 350c61340c45ebfea58f0bf8cb6bb3844e0b9804 (patch) | |
| tree | 58f5285b130526e757839519a1e6e52ad6e3fc22 /44554-8.txt | |
| parent | a03a613724fb43c661a4e7611fa75f8e50d3a7d8 (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to '44554-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 44554-8.txt | 16043 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 16043 deletions
diff --git a/44554-8.txt b/44554-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 052ade7..0000000 --- a/44554-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16043 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Vol. II -(of 2), by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Vol. II (of 2) - - -Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge - -Editor: Ernest Hartley Coleridge - -Release Date: January 1, 2014 [eBook #44554] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR -COLERIDGE, VOL. II (OF 2)*** - - -E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 44554-h.htm or 44554-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44554/44554-h/44554-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44554/44554-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/lettersofsamuelt01coleuoft - - - Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work. - Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44553 - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is underlined (_underlined_). - - Superscripted characters are enclosed by curly braces - (example: Commiss{r}). - - The original text contains letters with diacritical marks - that are not represented in this text-file version. - - The original text includes Greek characters that have been - replaced with transliterations in this text-file version. - - - - - -LETTERS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE - - -[Illustration] - - -LETTERS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE - -Edited by - -ERNEST HARTLEY COLERIDGE - -In Two Volumes - -VOL. II - - - - - - - -London -William Heinemann -1895 -[All rights reserved.] - -The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. -Printed by H. O. Houghton and Company. - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOLUME II - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER VII. A LONG ABSENCE, 1804-1806. - - CXLIV. RICHARD SHARP, January 15, 1804. (Life of Wordsworth, - 1889, ii. 9) 447 - - CXLV. THOMAS POOLE, January 15, 1804. (Forty lines published, - Thomas Poole and his Friends, 1887, ii. 122) 452 - - CXLVI. THOMAS POOLE [January 26, 1804] 454 - - CXLVII. THE WORDSWORTH FAMILY, February 8, 1804. (Life of - Wordsworth, 1889, ii. 12) 456 - - CXLVIII. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, February 19, 1804 460 - - CXLIX. ROBERT SOUTHEY, February 20, 1804 464 - - CL. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, April 1, 1804 467 - - CLI. ROBERT SOUTHEY, April 16, 1804 469 - - CLII. DANIEL STUART, April 21, 1804. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 33) 475 - - CLIII. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, June, 1804 480 - - CLIV. DANIEL STUART, October 22, 1804. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 45) 485 - - CLV. ROBERT SOUTHEY, February 2, 1805 487 - - CLVI. DANIEL STUART, April 20, 1805. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 46) 493 - - CLVII. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, July 21, 1805 496 - - CLVIII. WASHINGTON ALLSTON, June 17, 1806. (Scribner's - Magazine, January, 1892) 498 - - CLIX. DANIEL STUART, August 18, 1806. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 54) 501 - - - CHAPTER VIII. HOME AND NO HOME, 1806-1807. - - CLX. DANIEL STUART, September 15, 1806. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 60) 505 - - CLXI. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, September 16 [1806] 507 - - CLXII. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, December 25, 1806 509 - - CLXIII. HARTLEY COLERIDGE, April 3, 1807 511 - - CLXIV. SIR H. DAVY, September 11, 1807. (Fragmentary Remains, - 1858, p. 99) 514 - - - CHAPTER IX. A PUBLIC LECTURER, 1807-1808. - - CLXV. THE MORGAN FAMILY [November 23, 1807] 519 - - CLXVI. ROBERT SOUTHEY [December 14, 1807] 520 - - CLXVII. MRS. MORGAN, January 25, 1808 524 - - CLXVIII. FRANCIS JEFFREY, May 23, 1808 527 - - CLXIX. FRANCIS JEFFREY, July 20, 1808 528 - - - CHAPTER X. GRASMERE AND THE FRIEND, 1808-1810. - - CLXX. DANIEL STUART [December 9, 1808]. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 93) 533 - - CLXXI. FRANCIS JEFFREY, December 14, 1808. (Illustrated - London News, June 10, 1893) 534 - - CLXXII. THOMAS WILKINSON, December 31, 1808. (Friends' - Quarterly Magazine, June, 1893) 538 - - CLXXIII. THOMAS POOLE, February 3, 1809. (Fifteen lines - published, Thomas Poole and his Friends, 1887, ii. 228) 541 - - CLXXIV. DANIEL STUART, March 31, 1809. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 136) 545 - - CLXXV. DANIEL STUART, June 13, 1809. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 165) 547 - - CLXXVI. THOMAS POOLE, October 9, 1809. (Thomas Poole and his - Friends, 1887, ii. 233) 550 - - CLXXVII. ROBERT SOUTHEY, December, 1809 554 - - CLXXVIII. THOMAS POOLE, January 28, 1810 556 - - - CHAPTER XI. A JOURNALIST, A LECTURER, A PLAYWRIGHT, 1810-1813. - - CLXXIX. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, Spring, 1810 563 - - CLXXX. THE MORGANS, December 21, 1810 564 - - CLXXXI. W. GODWIN, March 15, 1811. (William Godwin, by C. - Kegan Paul, ii. 222) 565 - - CLXXXII. DANIEL STUART, June 4, 1811. (Gentleman's Magazine, - 1838) 566 - - CLXXXIII. SIR G. BEAUMONT, December 7, 1811. (Memorials of - Coleorton, 1887, ii. 158) 570 - - CLXXXIV. J. J. MORGAN, February 28, 1812 575 - - CLXXXV. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, April 21, 1812 579 - - CLXXXVI. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE, April 24, 1812 583 - - CLXXXVII. CHARLES LAMB, May 2, 1812 586 - - CLXXXVIII. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, May 4, 1812 588 - - CLXXXIX. DANIEL STUART, May 8, 1812. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 211) 595 - - CXC. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, May 11, 1812. (Life of Wordsworth, - 1889, ii. 180) 596 - - CXCI. ROBERT SOUTHEY [May 12, 1812] 597 - - CXCII. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, December 7, 1812. (Life of - Wordsworth, 1889, ii. 181) 599 - - CXCIII. MRS. S. T. COLERIDGE [January 20, 1813] 602 - - CXCIV. ROBERT SOUTHEY, February 8, 1813. (Illustrated London - News, June 24, 1894) 605 - - CXCV. THOMAS POOLE, February 13, 1813. (Six lines published, - Thomas Poole and his Friends, 1887, ii. 244) 609 - - - CHAPTER XII. A MELANCHOLY EXILE, 1813-1815. - - CXCVI. DANIEL STUART, September 25, 1813. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 219). 615 - - CXCVII. JOSEPH COTTLE, April 26, 1814. (Early Recollections, - 1837, ii. 155) 616 - - CXCVIII. JOSEPH COTTLE, May 27, 1814. (Early Recollections, - 1837, ii. 165) 619 - - CXCIX. CHARLES MATHEWS, May 30, 1814. (Memoir of C. Mathews, - 1838, ii. 257) 621 - - CC. JOSIAH WADE, June 26, 1814. (Early Recollections, 1837, - ii. 185) 623 - - CCI. JOHN MURRAY, August 23, 1814. (Memoir of John Murray, - 1890, i. 297) 624 - - CCII. DANIEL STUART, September 12, 1814. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 221) 627 - - CCIII. DANIEL STUART, October 30, 1814. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 248) 634 - - CCIV. JOHN KENYON, November 3 [1814] 639 - - CCV. LADY BEAUMONT, April 3, 1815. (Memorials of Coleorton, - 1887, ii. 175) 641 - - CCVI. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, May 30, 1815. (Life of Wordsworth, - 1889, ii. 255) 643 - - CCVII. REV. W. MONEY, 1815 651 - - - CHAPTER XIII. NEW LIFE AND NEW FRIENDS, 1816-1821. - - CCVIII. JAMES GILLMAN [April 13, 1816]. (Life of Coleridge, - 1838, p. 273) 657 - - CCIX. DANIEL STUART, May 8, 1816. (Privately printed, Letters - from the Lake Poets, p. 255) 660 - - CCX. DANIEL STUART, May 13, 1816. (Privately printed, Letters - from the Lake Poets, p. 262) 663 - - CCXI. JOHN MURRAY, February 27, 1817 665 - - CCXII. ROBERT SOUTHEY [May, 1817] 670 - - CCXIII. H. C. ROBINSON, June, 1817. (Diary of H. C. Robinson, - 1869, ii. 57) 671 - - CCXIV. THOMAS POOLE [July 22, 1817]. (Thomas Poole and his - Friends, 1887, ii. 255) 673 - - CCXV. REV. H. F. CARY, October 29, 1817 676 - - CCXVI. REV. H. F. CARY, November 6, 1817 677 - - CCXVII. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, November 14, 1817 679 - - CCXVIII. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN [December 13, 1817] 680 - - CCXIX. CHARLES AUGUSTUS TULK, 1818 684 - - CCXX. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, May 2, 1818 688 - - CCXXI. MRS. GILLMAN, July 19, 1818 690 - - CCXXII. W. COLLINS, A. R. A., December, 1818. (Memoirs of W. - Collins, 1848, i. 146) 693 - - CCXXIII. THOMAS ALLSOP, December 2, 1818. (Letters, - Conversations, and Recollections of S. T. Coleridge, 1836, - i. 5) 695 - - CCXXIV. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, January 16, 1819 699 - - CCXXV. JAMES GILLMAN, August 20, 1819 700 - - CCXXVI. MRS. ADERS [?], October 28, 1819 701 - - CCXXVII. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN [January 14, 1820] 704 - - CCXXVIII. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, May 25, 1820 706 - - CCXXIX. CHARLES AUGUSTUS TULK, February 12, 1821 712 - - - CHAPTER XIV. THE PHILOSOPHER AND DIVINE, 1822-1832. - - CCXXX. JOHN MURRAY, January 18, 1822 717 - - CCXXXI. JAMES GILLMAN, October 28, 1822. (Life of Coleridge, - 1838, p. 344) 721 - - CCXXXII. MISS BRENT, July 7, 1823 722 - - CCXXXIII. REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE, July 23, 1823 724 - - CCXXXIV. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, February 15, 1824 726 - - CCXXXV. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, May 19, 1824 728 - - CCXXXVI. JAMES GILLMAN, November 2, 1824 729 - - CCXXXVII. REV. H. F. CARY, December 14, 1824 731 - - CCXXXVIII. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH [? 1825]. (Fifteen lines - published, Life of Wordsworth, 1889, ii. 305) 733 - - CCXXXIX. JOHN TAYLOR COLERIDGE, April 8, 1825 734 - - CCXL. REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE, May 19, 1825 738 - - CCXLI. DANIEL STUART, July 9, 1825. (Privately printed, - Letters from the Lake Poets, p. 286) 740 - - CCXLII. JAMES GILLMAN, October 10, 1825 742 - - CCXLIII. REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE, December 9, 1825 744 - - CCXLIV. MRS. GILLMAN, May 3, 1827 745 - - CCXLV. REV. GEORGE MAY COLERIDGE, January 14, 1828 746 - - CCXLVI. GEORGE DYER, June 6, 1828. (The Mirror, xxxviii. - 1841, p. 282) 748 - - CCXLVII. GEORGE CATTERMOLE, August 14, 1828 750 - - CCXLVIII. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, June 1, 1830 751 - - CCXLIX. THOMAS POOLE, 1830 753 - - CCL. MRS. GILLMAN, 1830 754 - - CCLI. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, December 15, 1831 754 - - CCLII. H. N. COLERIDGE, February 24, 1832 756 - - CCLIII. MISS LAWRENCE, March 22, 1832 758 - - CCLIV. REV. H. F. CARY, April 22, 1832. (Memoir of H. F. - Cary, 1847, ii. 194) 760 - - CCLV. JOHN PEIRSE KENNARD, August 13, 1832 762 - - - CHAPTER XV. THE BEGINNING OF THE END, 1833-1834. - - CCLVI. JOSEPH HENRY GREEN, April 8, 1833 767 - - CCLVII. MRS. ADERS [1833] 769 - - CCLVIII. JOHN STERLING, October 30, 1833 771 - - CCLIX. MISS ELIZA NIXON, July 9, 1834 773 - - CCLX. ADAM STEINMETZ KENNARD, July 13, 1834. (Early - Recollections, 1837, ii. 193) 775 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, aged sixty-one. From a pencil-sketch - by J. Kayser, of Kaserworth, now in the possession of the - editor _Frontispiece_ - - MRS. WILSON. From a pencil-sketch by Edward Nash, 1816, now - in the possession of the editor 460 - - HARTLEY COLERIDGE, aged ten. After a painting by Sir David - Wilkie, R. A., now in the possession of Sir George Beaumont, - Bart. 510 - - THE ROOM IN MR. GILLMAN'S HOUSE, THE GROVE, HIGHGATE, which - served as study and bedroom for the poet, and in which he - died. From a water-colour drawing now in the possession of - Miss Christabel Coleridge, of Cheyne, Torquay 616 - - DERWENT COLERIDGE, aged nineteen. From a pencil-sketch by - Edward Nash, now in the possession of the editor 704 - - THE REVEREND GEORGE COLERIDGE. From an oil painting now in - the possession of the Right Honourable Lord Coleridge 746 - - SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, aged (about) fifty-six. From an oil - painting (taken at the Argyll Baths), now in the possession of - the editor 758 - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A LONG ABSENCE - -1804-1806 - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A LONG ABSENCE - -1804-1806 - - -CXLIV. TO RICHARD SHARP.[1] - - KING'S ARMS, KENDAL, - Sunday morning, January 15, 1804. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I give you thanks--and, that I may make the best of so -poor and unsubstantial a return, permit me to say, that they are such -thanks as can only come from a nature unworldly by constitution and -by habit, and now rendered more than ever impressible by sudden -restoration--resurrection I might say--from a long, long sick-bed. I had -gone to Grasmere to take my farewell of William Wordsworth, his wife, and -his sister, and thither your letters followed me. I was at Grasmere a -whole month, so ill, as that till the last week I was unable to read your -letters. Not that my inner being was disturbed; on the contrary, it seemed -more than usually serene and self-sufficing; but the exceeding pain, of -which I suffered every now and then, and the fearful distresses of my -sleep, had taken away from me the connecting link of voluntary power, -which continually combines that part of us by which we know ourselves to -be, with that outward picture or hieroglyphic, by which we hold communion -with our like--between the vital and the organic--or what Berkeley, I -suppose, would call mind and its sensuous language. I had only just -strength enough to smile gratefully on my kind nurses, who tended me with -sister's and mother's love, and often, I well know, wept for me in their -sleep, and watched for me even in their dreams. Oh, dear sir! it does a -man's heart good, I will not say, to know such a family, but even to know -that there _is_ such a family. In spite of Wordsworth's occasional fits of -hypochondriacal uncomfortableness,--from which, more or less, and at -longer or shorter intervals, he has never been wholly free from his very -childhood,--in spite of this hypochondriacal graft in his nature, as dear -Wedgwood calls it, his is the happiest family I ever saw, and were it not -in too great sympathy with my ill health--were I in good health, and their -neighbour--I verily believe that the cottage in Grasmere Vale would be a -proud sight for Philosophy. It is with no idle feeling of vanity that I -speak of my importance to them; that it is _I_, rather than another, is -almost an accident; but being so very happy within themselves they are too -good, not the more, for that very reason, to want a friend and common -object of love out of their household. I have met with several genuine -Philologists, Philonoists, Physiophilists, keen hunters after knowledge -and science; but truth and wisdom are higher names than these--and -_revering_ Davy, I am half angry with him for doing that which would make -me laugh in another man--I mean, for prostituting and profaning the name -of "Philosopher," "great Philosopher," "eminent Philosopher," etc., etc., -etc., to every fellow who has made a lucky experiment, though the man -should be Frenchified to the heart, and though the whole Seine, with all -its filth and poison, flows in his veins and arteries. - -Of our common friends, my dear sir, I flatter myself that you and I should -agree in fixing on T. Wedgwood and on Wordsworth as genuine -Philosophers--for I have often said (and no wonder, since not a day passes -but the conviction of the truth of it is renewed in me, and with the -conviction, the accompanying esteem and love), often have I said that T. -Wedgwood's faults impress me with veneration for his moral and -intellectual character more than almost any other man's virtues; for under -circumstances like his, to have a fault only in that degree is, I doubt -not, in the eye of God, to possess a high virtue. Who does not prize the -Retreat of Moreau[2] more than all the straw-blaze of Bonaparte's -victories? And then to make it (as Wedgwood really does) a sort of crime -even to think of his faults by so many virtues retained, cultivated, and -preserved in growth and blossom, in a climate--where now the gusts so rise -and eddy, that deeply rooted must _that_ be which is not snatched up and -made a plaything of by them,--and, now, "the parching air burns frore." - -W. Wordsworth does not excite that almost painfully profound moral -admiration which the sense of the exceeding difficulty of a given virtue -can alone call forth, and which therefore I feel exclusively towards T. -Wedgwood; but, on the other hand, he is an object to be contemplated with -greater complacency, because he both deserves to be, and _is_, a happy -man; and a happy man, not from natural temperament, for therein lies his -main obstacle, not by enjoyment of the good things of this world--for even -to this day, from the first dawn of his manhood, he has purchased -independence and leisure for great and good pursuits by austere frugality -and daily self-denials; nor yet by an accidental confluence of amiable and -happy-making friends and relatives, for every one near to his heart has -been placed there by choice and after knowledge and deliberation; but he -is a happy man, because he is a Philosopher, because he knows the -intrinsic value of the different objects of human pursuit, and regulates -his wishes in strict subordination to that knowledge; because he feels, -and with a _practical_ faith, the truth of that which you, more than once, -my dear sir, have with equal good sense and kindness pressed upon me, that -we can do but one thing well, and that therefore we must make a choice. He -has made that choice from his early youth, has pursued and is pursuing it; -and certainly no small part of his happiness is owing to this unity of -interest and that homogeneity of character which is the natural -consequence of it, and which that excellent man, the poet Sotheby, noticed -to me as the characteristic of Wordsworth. - -Wordsworth is a poet, a most original poet. He no more resembles Milton -than Milton resembles Shakespeare--no more resembles Shakespeare than -Shakespeare resembles Milton. He is himself and, I dare affirm that, he -will hereafter be admitted as the first and greatest philosophical poet, -the only man who has effected a complete and constant synthesis of thought -and feeling and combined them with poetic forms, with the music of -pleasurable passion, and with Imagination or the _modifying_ power in that -highest sense of the word, in which I have ventured to oppose it to Fancy, -or the _aggregating_ power--in that sense in which it is a dim analogue of -creation--not all that we can _believe_, but all that we can _conceive_ of -creation.--Wordsworth is a poet, and I feel myself a better poet, in -knowing how to honour _him_ than in all my own poetic compositions, all I -have done or hope to do; and I prophesy immortality to his "Recluse," as -the first and finest philosophical poem, if only it be (as it undoubtedly -will be) a faithful transcript of his own most august and innocent life, -of his own habitual feelings and modes of seeing and hearing.--My dear -sir! I began a letter with a heart, Heaven knows! how full of gratitude -toward you--and I have flown off into a whole letter-full respecting -Wedgwood and Wordsworth. Was it that my heart demanded an outlet for -grateful feelings--for a long stream of them--and that I felt it would be -oppressive to you if I wrote to you of yourself half of what I wished to -write? Or was it that I knew I should be in sympathy with you, and that -few subjects are more pleasing to you than a detail of the merits of two -men, whom, I am sure, you esteem equally with myself--though accidents -have thrown me, or rather Providence has placed me, in a closer connection -with them, both as confidential friends and the one as my benefactor, and -to whom I owe that my bed of sickness has not been in a house of want, -unless I had bought the contrary at the price of my conscience by becoming -a priest. - -I leave this place this afternoon, having walked from Grasmere yesterday. -I walked the nineteen miles through mud and drizzle, fog and stifling air, -in four hours and thirty-five minutes, and was not in the least fatigued, -so that you may see that my sickness has not much weakened me. Indeed, the -suddenness and seeming perfectness of my recovery is really astonishing. -In a single hour I have changed from a state that seemed next to death, -swollen limbs, racking teeth, etc., to a state of elastic health, so that -I have said, "If I have been dreaming, yet you, Wordsworth, have been -awake." And Wordsworth has answered, "I could not expect any one to -believe it who had not seen it." These changes have always been produced -by sudden changes of the weather. Dry hot weather or dry frosty weather -seem alike friendly to me, and my persuasion is strong as the life within -me, that a year's residence in Madeira would renovate me. I shall spend -two days in Liverpool, and hope to be in London, coach and coachman -permitting, on Friday afternoon or Saturday at the furthest. And on this -day week I look forward to the pleasure of thanking you personally, for I -still hope to avail myself of your kind introductions. I mean to wait in -London till a good vessel sails for Madeira; but of this when I see you. - -Believe me, my dear sir, with grateful and affectionate thanks, your -sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CXLV. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -KENDAL, Sunday, January 15, 1804. - -MY DEAR POOLE,--My health is as the weather. That, for the last month, has -been unusually bad, and so has my health. I go by the heavy coach this -afternoon. I shall be at Liverpool tomorrow night. Tuesday, Wednesday, I -shall stay there; not more _certainly_, for I have taken my place all the -way to London, and this stay of two days is an indulgence and entered in -the road-bill, so I expect to be in London on Friday evening about six -o'clock, at the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill. Now my dearest friend! will you -send a twopenny post letter directed, "Mr. Coleridge (Passenger in the -Heavy Coach from Kendal and Liverpool), to be left at the bar, Saracen's -Head, Snow Hill," informing me whether I can have a bed at your lodgings, -or whether Mr. Rickman could let me have a bed for one or two nights,--for -I have such a dread of sleeping at an Inn or Coffee house in London, that -it quite unmans me to think of it. To love and to be beloved makes -hothouse plants of us, dear Poole! - -Though wretchedly ill, I have not yet been deserted by hope--less dejected -than in any former illness--and my mind has been active, and not vaguely, -but to that determinate purpose which has employed me the last three -months, and I want only one fortnight steady reading to have got _all_ my -materials before me, and then I neither stir to the right nor to the left, -so help me God! till the work is finished. Of its contents, the title -will, in part, inform you, "Consolations and Comforts from the exercise -and right application of the Reason, the Imagination, the Moral Feelings, -Addressed especially to those in sickness, adversity, or distress of mind, -_from speculative gloom_,[3] etc." - -I put that last phrase, though barbarous, for your information. I have -puzzled for hours together, and could never hit off a phrase to express -that idea, that is, at once neat and terse, and yet good English. The -whole plan of my literary life I have now laid down, and the exact order -in which I shall execute it, if God vouchsafe me life and adequate health; -and I have sober though confident expectations that I shall render a good -account of what may have appeared to you and others, a distracting -manifoldness in my objects and attainments. You are nobly employed,--most -worthily of you. _You_ are made to endear yourself to mankind as an -immediate benefactor: I must throw my bread on the waters. You sow corn -and I plant the olive. Different evils beset us. You shall give me advice, -and I will advise you, to look steadily at everything, and to see it as it -is--to be willing to see a thing to be evil, even though you see, at the -same time, that it is for the present an irremediable evil; and not to -overrate, either in the convictions of your intellect, or in the feelings -of your heart, the Good, because it is present to you, and in your -power--and, above all, not to be too hasty an admirer of the Rich, who -seem disposed to do good with their wealth and influence, but to make your -esteem strictly and severely proportionate to the worth of the Agent, not -to the _value_ of the Action, and to refer the latter wholly to the -Eternal Wisdom and Goodness, to God, upon whom it wholly depends, and in -whom alone it has a moral worth. - -I love and honour you, Poole, for many things--scarcely for anything more -than that, trusting firmly in the rectitude and simplicity of your own -heart, and listening with faith to its revealing voice, you never suffered -either my subtlety, or my eloquence, to proselytize you to the pernicious -doctrine of Necessity.[4] All praise to the Great Being who has graciously -enabled me to find my way out of that labyrinth-den of sophistry, and, I -would fain believe, to bring with me a better clue than has hitherto been -known, to enable others to do the same. I have convinced Southey and -Wordsworth; and W., as you know, was, even to extravagance, a -Necessitarian. Southey never believed and abhorred the Doctrine, yet -thought the argument for it unanswerable by human reason. I have convinced -both of them of the sophistry of the argument, and wherein the sophism -consists, viz., that all have hitherto--both the Necessitarians and their -antagonists--confounded two essentially different things under one name, -and in consequence of _this_ mistake, the victory has been always hollow, -in favor of the Necessitarians. - -God bless you, and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. If any letter come to your lodgings for me, of course you will take -care of it. - - -CXLVI. TO THE SAME. - -[January 26, 1804.] - -MY DEAREST POOLE,--I have called on Sir James Mackintosh,[5] who offered -me his endeavours to procure me a place under him in India, of which -endeavour he would not for a moment doubt the success; and assured me _on -his Honour, on his Soul_!! (N. B. _his_ Honour!!) (N. B. _his_ Soul!!) -that he was sincere. Lillibullero ahoo! ahoo! ahoo! Good morning, Sir -James! - -I next called on Davy, who seems more and more determined to mould himself -upon the Age, in order to make the Age mould itself upon him. Into this -language at least I could have translated his conversation. Oh, it is a -dangerous business this bowing of the head in the Temple of Rimmon; and -such men I aptly christen _Theo-mammonists_, that is, those who at once -worship God and Mammon. However, God grant better things of so noble a -work of His! And, as I once before said, may that Serpent, the World, -climb around the club which supports him, and be the symbol of healing; -even as in Tooke's "Pantheon,"[6] you may see the thing _done_ to your -eyes in the picture of Esculapius. Well! now for business. I shall leave -the note among the schedules. They will wonder, plain, sober people! what -damn'd madcap has got among them; or rather I will put it under the letter -just arrived for you, that at least it may perhaps be _under_ the -_Rose_.[7] - -Well, once again. I will try to get at it, but I am landing on a surfy -shore, and am always driven back upon the open sea of various thoughts. - -I dine with Davy at five o'clock this evening at the Prince of Wales's -Coffee House, Leicester Square, an he can give us three hours of his -company; and I beseech you _do_ make a point and come. God bless you, and -may _His_ Grace be as a pair of brimstone gloves to guard against dirty -diseases from such bad company as you are keeping--Rose[8] and Thomas -Poole!--!!! - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -T. POOLE, ESQ., Parliament Office. - -[Note in Poole's handwriting: "Very interesting _jeu d'esprit_, but not -sent."] - - -CXLVII. TO THE WORDSWORTHS. - - DUNMOW, ESSEX, Wednesday night, 1/2 past 11, - February 8, 1804. - -MY DEAREST FRIENDS,--I must write, or I shall have delayed it till delay -has made the thought painful as of a duty neglected. I had meant to have -kept a sort of journal for you, but I have not been calm enough; and if I -had kept it, I should not have time to transcribe, for nothing can exceed -the bustle I have been in from the day of my arrival in town. The only -incident of any extraordinary interest was a direful quarrel between -Godwin and me,[9] in which, to use his own phrase (unless Lamb suggested -it to him), I "thundered and lightened with frenzied eloquence" at him for -near an hour and a half. It ended in a reconciliation next day; but the -affair itself, and the ferocious spirit into which a _plusquam sufficit_ -of punch had betrayed me, has sunk deep into my heart. Few events in my -life have grieved me more, though the fool's conduct richly merited a -flogging, but not with a scourge of scorpions. I wrote to Mrs. Coleridge -the next day, when my mind was full of it, and, when you go into Keswick, -she will detail the matter, if you have nothing better to talk of. My -health has greatly improved, and rich and precious wines (of several of -which I had never before heard the names) agree admirably with me, and I -fully believe, most dear William! they would with you. But still I am as -faithful a barometer, and previously to, and during all falling weather, -am as asthmatic and stomach-twitched as when with you. I am a perfect -conjuror as to the state of the weather, and it is such that I detected -myself in being somewhat flattered at finding the infallibility of my -uncomfortable feelings, as to falling weather, either coming or come. What -Sicily may do for me I cannot tell, but Dalton,[10] the Lecturer on -Natural Philosophy at the R. Institution, a man devoted to Keswick, -convinced me that there was five times the duration of falling weather at -Keswick compared with the flat of midland counties, and more than twice -the gross quantity of water fallen. I have as yet been able to do nothing -for myself. My plans are to try to get such an introduction to the Captain -of the war-ship that shall next sail for Malta, as to be taken as his -friend (from Malta to Syracuse is but six hours passage in a spallanza). -At Syracuse I shall meet with a hearty welcome from Mr. Lecky, the Consul, -and I hope to be able to have a letter from Lord Nelson to the Convent of -Benedictines at Catania to receive and lodge me for such time as I may -choose to stay. Catania is a pleasant town, with pleasant, hospitable -inhabitants, at the foot of Etna, though fifteen miles, alas! from the -woody region. Greenough[11] has read me an admirable, because most minute, -journal of his Sights, Doings, and Done-untos in Sicily. - -As to money, I shall avail myself of £105, to be repaid to you on the -first of January, 1805, and another £100, to be employed in paying the -Life Assurance, the bills at Keswick, Mrs. Fricker, next half year; and if -any remain, to buy me comforts for my voyage, etc., Dante and a -dictionary. I shall borrow part from my brothers, and part from Stuart. I -can live a year at Catania (for I have no plan or desire of travelling -except up and down Etna) for £100, and the getting back I shall trust to -chance. - -O my dear, dear friends! if Sicily should become a British island,--as all -the inhabitants intensely desire it to be,--and if the climate agreed with -you as well as I doubt not it will with me,--and if it be as much cheaper -than even Westmoreland, as Greenough reports, and if I could get a -Vice-Consulship, of which I have little doubt, oh, what a dream of -happiness could we not realize! But mortal life seems destined for no -continuous happiness, save that which results from the exact performance -of duty; and blessed are you, dear William! whose path of duty lies -through vine-trellised elm-groves, through Love and Joy and Grandeur. "O -for one hour of Dundee!"[12] How often shall I sigh, "Oh! for one hour of -'The Recluse'!" - -I arrived at Dunmow on Tuesday, and shall stay till Tuesday morning. You -will direct No. 116 Abingdon St., Westminster. I was not received here -with mere kindness; I was welcomed _almost_ as you welcomed me when first -I visited you at Racedown. And their solicitude and attention is enough to -effeminate one. Indeed, indeed, they _are_ kind and good people; and old -Lady Beaumont, now eighty-six, is a sort of miracle for beauty and clear -understanding and cheerfulness. The house is an old house by a tan-yard, -with nothing remarkable but its awkward passages. We talk by the long -hours about you and Hartley, Derwent, Sara, and Johnnie; and few things, I -am persuaded, would delight them more than to live near you. I wish you -would write out a sheet of verses for them, and I almost promised for you -that you should send that delicious poem on the Highland Girl at -Inversnade. But of more importance, incomparably, is it, that Mary and -Dorothy should begin to transcribe _all_ William's MS. poems _for me_. -Think what they will be to me in Sicily! They should be written in pages -and lettered up in parcels not exceeding two ounces and a quarter each, -including the seal, and _three_ envelopes, one to the Speaker, under that, -one to John Rickman, Esqre, and under that, one to _me_. (Terrible -mischief has happened from foolish people of R.'s acquaintance -_neglecting_ the middle envelope, so that the Speaker, opening his letter, -finds himself made a letter smuggler to Nicholas Noddy or some other -unknown gentleman.) But I will send you the exact form. The weight is not -of much importance, but better not exceed two ounces and a quarter. I will -write again as soon as I hear from you. In the mean time, God bless you, -dearest William, Dorothy, Mary, S., and my godchild. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CXLVIII. TO HIS WIFE. - -February 19, 1804. - -"J. Tobin, Esqre.,[13] No. 17 Barnard's Inn, Holborn. For Mr. Coleridge." -_So_, if you wish me to answer it by return of post: but if it be of no -consequence, whether I receive it four hours sooner or four hours later, -then direct "Mr. Lambe,[14] East India House, London." - -I did not receive your last letter written on the "very, very windy and -very cold Sunday night," till yesterday afternoon, owing to Poole's -neglect and forgetfulness. But Poole is one of those men who have one good -quality, namely, that they always _do_ one thing at a time; but who -likewise have one defect, that they can seldom _think_ but of one thing at -a time. For instance, if Poole is intent on his matter while he is -speaking, he cannot give the least attention to his language or -pronunciation, in consequence of which there is no one error in his -dialect which he has ever got rid of. My mind is in general of the -contrary make. I too often _do_ nothing, in consequence of being impressed -all at once (or so rapidly consecutively as to appear all at once) by a -variety of impressions. If there are a dozen people at table I hear, and -cannot help giving some attention to what each one says, even though there -should be three or four talking at once. The detail of the Good and the -Bad, of the two different _makes_ of mind, would form a not uninteresting -brace of essays in a _Spectator_ or _Guardian_. - -You will of course repay Southey instantly all the money you may have -borrowed either for yourself or for Mr. Jackson,[15] and do not forget to -remember that a share of the _wine-bill_ belonged to me. Likewise when -you pay Mr. Jackson, you will pay him just as if he had not had any money -from you. Is it half a year? or a year and a half's rent that we owe him? -Did we pay him up to July last? If we did, _then_, were I you, I would now -pay him the whole year's rent up to July next, and tell him that you shall -not want the twenty pounds which you have lent him till the beginning of -May. Remember me to him in the most affectionate manner, and say how -sincerely I condole with him on his sprain. Likewise, and as -affectionately, remember me to Mrs. Wilson. - -[Illustration] - -It gave me pain and a feeling of anxious concern on our own account, as -well as Mr. Jackson's, to find him so distressed for money. I fear that he -will be soon induced to sell the house. - -Now for our darling Hartley. I am myself not at all anxious or uneasy -respecting his _habits_ of idleness; but I should be very unhappy if he -were to go to the town school, unless there were any steady lad that Mr. -Jackson knew and could rely on, who went to the same school regularly, and -who would be easily induced by half-a-crown once in two or three months to -take care of him, let him always sit by him, and to whom you should -instruct the child to yield a certain degree of obedience. If this can be -done (and you will read what I say to Mr. Jackson), I have no great -objection to his going to school and making a fair trial of it. Oh, may -God vouchsafe me health that he may go to school to his own father! I -exceedingly wish that there were any one in Keswick who would give him a -little instruction in the elements of drawing. I will go to-morrow and -enquire for some very elementary book, if there be any, that proposes to -teach it without the assistance of a drawing master, and which you might -make him _read_ to you instead of his other books. Sir G. Beaumont was -very much pleased and interested by Hartley's promise of attachment to his -darling Art. If I can find the book I will send it off instantly, together -with the Spillekins (Spielchen, or Gamelet, I suppose), a German -refinement of our Jack Straw. You or some one of your sisters will be so -good as to play with Hartley, at first, that Derwent may learn it. Little -Albert at Dr. Crompton's, and indeed all the children, are quite spillekin -mad. It is certainly an excellent game to teach children steadiness of -hand and quickness of eye, and a good opportunity to impress upon them the -beauty of strict truth, when it is against their own interest, and to give -them a pride in it, and habits of it,--for the slightest perceptible -motion produced in any of the spillekins, except the one attempted to be -_crooked_ off the heap, destroys that turn, and there is a good deal of -foresight executed in knowing when to give it a lusty pull, so as to move -the spillekins under, if only you see that your adversary who will take -advantage of this pull, will himself not succeed, and yet by _his_ or the -second pull put the spillekin easily in the power of the third pull.... I -am now writing in No. 44 Upper Titchfield Street, where I have for the -first time been breakfasting with A. Welles, who seems a kind, friendly -man, and instead of recommending any more of his medicine to me, advises -me to persevere in and expedite my voyage to a better climate, and has -been very pressing with me to take up my home at his house. To-morrow I -dine with Mr. Rickman at his own house; Wednesday I dine with him at -Tobin's. I shall dine with Mr. Welles to-day, and thence by eight o'clock -to the Royal Institution to the lecture.[16] On Thursday afternoon, two -o'clock to the lecture, and Saturday night, eight o'clock to the lecture. -On Friday, I spend the day with Davy certainly, and I hope with Mr. -Sotheby likewise. To-morrow or Wednesday I expect to know certainly what -my plans are to be, whither to go and when, and whether the intervening -space will make it worth my while to go to Ottery, or whether I shall go -back to Dunmow, and return with Sir George and Lady B. when they come to -their house in Grosvenor Square. I cannot express to you how very, very -affectionate the behaviour of these good people has been to me; and how -they seem to love by anticipation those very few whom I love. If Southey -would but permit me to copy that divine passage of his "Madoc,"[17] -respecting the Harp of the Welsh Bard, and its imagined divinity, with the -Two Savages, or any other detachable passage, or to transcribe his -"Kehama," I will pledge myself that Sir George Beaumont and Lady B. will -never suffer a single individual to hear or see a single line, you -_saying_ that it is to be kept sacred to them, and not to be seen by any -one else. - - [No signature.] - - -CXLIX. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - - Rickman's Office, H. of Commons, - February 20, 1804, Monday noon. - -DEAR SOUTHEY,--The affair with Godwin began thus. We were talking of -reviews, and bewailing their ill effects. I detailed my plan for a review, -to occupy regularly the fourth side of an evening paper, etc., etc., -adding that it had been a favourite scheme with me for two years past. -Godwin very coolly observed that it was a plan which "no man who had a -spark of honest pride" could join with. "No man, not the slave of the -grossest egotism, could unite in," etc. Cool and civil! I asked whether he -and most others did not already do what I proposed in prefaces. "Aye! in -_prefaces_; that is quite a different thing." I then adverted to the -extreme rudeness of the speech with regard to myself, and added that it -was not only a very rough, but likewise a very mistaken opinion, for I was -nearly if not quite sure that it had received the approbation both of you -and of Wordsworth. "Yes, sir! just so! of Mr. Southey--just what I said," -and so on _more Godwiniano_ in language so ridiculously and exclusively -appropriate to himself, that it would have made you merry. It was even as -if he was looking into a sort of moral looking-glass, without knowing what -it was, and, seeing his own very, very Godwinship, had by a merry conceit -christened it in your name, not without some annexment of me and -Wordsworth. I replied by laughing in the first place at the capricious -nature of his nicety, that what was gross in folio should become -double-refined in octavo foolscap or _pickpocket_ quartos, blind slavish -egotism in small pica, manly discriminating self-respect in double primer, -modest as maiden's blushes between boards, or in calf-skin, and only not -obscene in naked sheets. And then in a deep and somewhat sarcastic tone, -tried to teach him to speak more reverentially of his betters, by stating -what and who they were, by whom honoured, by whom depreciated. Well! this -gust died away. I was going home to look over his Duncity; he begged me to -stay till his return in half an hour. I, meaning to take nothing more the -whole evening, took a crust of bread, and Mary Lamb made me a glass of -punch of most deceitful strength. Instead of half an hour, Godwin stayed -an hour and a half. In came his wife, Mrs. Fenwick,[18] and four young -ladies, and just as Godwin returned, supper came in, and it was now -useless to go (at supper I was rather a mirth-maker than merry). I was -disgusted at heart with the grossness and vulgar insanocecity of this -dim-headed prig of a philosophocide, when, after supper, his ill stars -impelled him to renew the contest. I begged him not to goad me, for that I -feared my feelings would not long remain in my power. He (to my wonder and -indignation) persisted (I had not deciphered the cause), and then, as he -well said, I did "thunder and lighten at him" with a vengeance for more -than an hour and a half. Every effort of self-defence only made him more -ridiculous. If I had been Truth in person, I could not have spoken more -accurately; but it was Truth in a war-chariot, drawn by the three Furies, -and the reins had slipped out of the goddess's hands!... Yet he did not -absolutely give way till that stinging _contrast_ which I drew between him -as a man, as a writer, and a benefactor of society, and those of whom he -had spoken so irreverently. In short, I suspect that I seldom, at any time -and for so great a length of time, so continuously displayed so much -power, and do hope and trust that never did I display one half the scorn -and ferocity. The next morning, the moment when I awoke, O mercy! I did -feel like a very wretch. I got up and immediately wrote and sent off by a -porter, a letter, I dare affirm an affecting and eloquent letter to him, -and since then have been working for him, for I was heart-smitten with the -recollection that I had said all, all in the presence of his _wife_. But -if I had known all I now know, I will not say that I should not have -apologised, but most certainly I should not have made such an apology, for -he confessed to Lamb that he should not have persisted in irritating me, -but that Mrs. Godwin had twitted him for his prostration before me, as if -he was afraid to say his life was his own in my presence. He admitted, -too, that although he never to the very last suspected that I was tipsy, -yet he saw clearly that something unusual ailed me, and that I had not -been my natural self the whole evening. What a poor creature! To attack a -man who had been so kind to him at the instigation of such a woman![19] -And what a woman to instigate him to quarrel with _me_, who with as much -power as any, and more than most of his acquaintances, had been perhaps -the only one who had never made a butt of him--who had uniformly spoken -respectfully to him. But it is past! And I trust will teach me wisdom in -future. - -I have undoubtedly suffered a great deal from a cowardice in not daring to -repel unassimilating acquaintances who press forward upon my friendship; -but I dare aver, that if the circumstances of each particular case were -examined, they would prove on the whole honourable to me rather than -otherwise. But I have had enough and done enough. Hereafter I shall show a -different face, and calmly inform those who press upon me that my health, -spirits, and occupation alike make it necessary for me to confine myself -to the society of those with whom I have the nearest and highest -connection. So help me God! I will hereafter be quite sure that I do -really and in the whole of my heart esteem and like a man before I permit -him to call me friend. - -I am very anxious that you should go on with your "Madoc." If the thought -had happened to suggest itself to you originally and with all these -modifications and polypus tendrils with which it would have caught hold of -your subject, I am afraid that you would not have made the first voyage -_as_ interesting at least as it ought to be, so as to preserve entire the -fit proportion of interest. But go on! - -I shall call on Longman as soon as I receive an answer from him to a note -which I sent.... - -God bless you and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I have just received Sara's four lines added to my brother George's -letter, and cannot explain her not having received my letters. If I am not -mistaken I have written three or four times: upon an average I have -written to Greta Hall once every five days since I left Liverpool--if you -will divide the letters, one to each five days. I will write to my brother -immediately. I wrote to Sara from Dunmow; to you instantly on my return, -and now again. I do not deserve to be scolded at present. I met G. Burnett -the day before yesterday in Lincoln's Inn Fields, so nervous, so helpless -with such opium-stupidly-wild eyes. - -Oh, it made the place one calls the heart feel as it was going to ache. - - -CL. TO HIS WIFE. - - Mr. J. C. Motley's, Thomas Street, Portsmouth, - Sunday, April 1, 1804. - -MY DEAR SARA,--I am waiting here with great anxiety for the arrival of the -Speedwell. The Leviathan, Man of War, our convoy, has orders to sail with -the first fair wind, and whatever wind can bring in the Speedwell will -carry out the Leviathan, unless she have other orders than those -generally known. I have left the Inn, and its _crumena-mulga natio_, and -am only at the expense of a lodging at half a guinea a week, for I have -all my meals at Mr. Motley's, to whom a letter from Stuart introduced me, -and who has done most especial honour to the introduction. Indeed he could -not well help, for Stuart in his letter called me his very, very -particular friend, and that every attention would sink more into his heart -than one offered to himself or his brother. Besides, you know it is no new -thing for people to take sudden and hot likings to me. How different Sir -G. B.! He disliked me at first. When I am in better spirits and less -flurried I will transcribe his last letter. It breathed the very soul of -calm and manly yet deep affection. - -Hartley will receive his and Derwent's Spillekins with a letter from me by -the first waggon that leaves London after Wednesday next. - -My dear Sara! the mother, the attentive and excellent mother of my -children must needs be always more than the word friend can express when -applied to a woman. I pray you, use no word that you use with reluctance. -Yet what we have been to each other, our understandings will not permit -our hearts to forget! God knows, I weep tears of blood, but so it is! For -I greatly esteem and honour you. Heaven knows if I can leave you really -comfortable in your circumstances I shall meet Death with a face, which I -feel at the moment I say it, it would rather shock than comfort you to -imagine. - -My health is indifferent. I am rather endurably unwell than tolerably -well. I will write Southey to-morrow or next day, though Motley rides and -drives me about sightseeing so as to leave me but little time. I am not -sure that I shall see the Isle of Wight. - -Write to Wordsworth. Inform him that I have received all and everything -and will write him very soon, as soon as I can command spirits and -time.... Motley can send off all letters to Malta under Government -covers. You direct, therefore, at all times merely to me at Mr. J. C. -Motley's, Portsmouth. - -My very dear Sara, may God Almighty bless you and your affectionate - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -I mourn for poor Mary. - - -CLI. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - - Off Oporto and the coast of Portugal, - Monday noon, April 16, 1804. - -MY DEAR SOUTHEY,--I was thinking long before daylight this morning, that I -ought, spite of toss and tumble and cruel rocking, to write a few letters -in the course of this and the three following days; at the end of which, -if the northwest wind still blows behind, we may hope to be at Gibraltar. -I have two or three very unpleasant letters to write, and I was planning -whether I should not begin with these, have them off my hands and -thoughts, in short, whistle them down into the sea, and then take up the -paper, etc., a _whole_ man. When, lo! I heard the Captain above deck -talking of Oporto, slipped on my greatcoat and went shoeless up to have a -look. And a beautiful scene verily it was and is! The high land of -Portugal, and the mountain land behind it, and behind that fair mountains -with blue pyramids and cones. By the glass I could distinguish the larger -buildings in Oporto, a scrambling city, part of it, seemingly, walls -washed by the sea, part of it upon hills. At first view, it looked much -like a vast brick kiln in a sandy, clayey country on a hot summer -afternoon; seen more distinctly, it gave the nobler idea of a ruined city -in a wilderness, its houses and streets lying low in ruins under its -ruined walls, and a few temples and palaces standing untouched. But over -all the sea between us and the land, short of a stone's throw on the left -of the vessel, there is such a delicious warm olive green, almost yellow, -on the water, and now it has taken in the vessel, and its boundary is a -gunshot to my right, and one fine vessel exactly on its edge. This, though -occasioned by the impurity of the nigh shore and the disemboguing rivers, -forms a home scene; it is warm and landlike. The air is balmy and genial, -and all that the fresh breeze can do can scarcely keep under its vernal -warmth. The country round about Oporto seems darkly wooded; and in the -distant gap far behind and below it on the _curve_ of that high ridge -forming a gap, I count seventeen conical and pyramidal summits; below that -the high hills are saddlebacked. (In picturesque cant I ought to have said -BUT below that, etc.) To me the saddleback is a pleasant form which it -never would have occurred to me to christen by that name. Tents and -marquees with little points and summits made by the tent-poles suggest a -more striking likeness. Well! I need not say that the sight of the coast -of Portugal made it impossible for me to write to any one before I had -written to you--I now seeing for the first time a country you love so -dearly. But you, perhaps, are not among my mountains! God Almighty grant -that you may not. Yes! you are in London: all is well, and Hartley has a -younger sister than tiny Sally. If it be so, call her Edith--Edith by -itself--Edith. But somehow or other I would rather it were a boy, _then_ -let nothing, I conjure you, no false compliment to another, no false -feeling indulged in yourself, deprive your eldest son of his father's -name. Such was ever the manner of our forefathers, and there is a dignity, -a self-respect, or an awful, preëminently self-referring event in the -custom, that makes it well worthy of our imitation. I would have done -[so], but that from my earliest years I have had a feeling of dislike and -disgust connected with my own Christian name--such a vile short plumpness, -such a dull abortive smartness in the first syllable, and this so harshly -contrasted by the obscurity and indefiniteness of the syllabic vowel, and -the feebleness of the uncovered liquid with which it ends, the wobble it -makes, and struggling between a dis- and a tri-syllable, and the whole -name sounding as if you were abeeceeing S. M. U. L. Altogether, it is, -perhaps, the worst combination of which vowels and consonants are -susceptible. While I am writing we are in 41° 10m. latitude, and are -almost three leagues from land; at one time we were scarcely one league -from it, and about a quarter of an hour ago, the whole country looked so -very like the country from Hutton Moor to Saddleback and the adjoining -part of Skiddaw. - -I cannot help some anxious feelings respecting you, nor some superstitious -twitches within, as if it were wrong at this distance to write so -prospectively and with such particularization of that which is contingent, -which may be all otherwise. But--God forbid! and, surely, hope is less -ominous than fear. We set sail from St. Helier's, April 9th, Monday -morning, having dropped down thither from Spithead on Sunday evening. We -lost twenty-six hours of fair wind before our commodore gave the -signal--our brig, a most excellent and first-rate sailor, but laden deep -with heavy goods (eighty-four large cannon for Trieste in the hold), which -makes it rock most cruelly. I can only-- - -Wed. April 18. I was going to say I can only compare it to a wench kept at -home on some gay day to nurse a fretful infant and who, having long rocked -it in vain, at length rocks it in spite.... But though the rough weather -and the incessant rocking does not disease me, yet the damn'd rocking -depresses one inconceivably, like hiccups or itching; it is troublesome -and impertinent and forces you away from your thoughts like the presence -and gossip of an old aunt, or long-staying visitor, to two lovers. Oh with -what envy have I gazed at our commodore, the Leviathan of seventy-four -guns, the majestic and beautiful creature sailing right before us, -sometimes half a mile, oftener a furlong (for we are always first), with -two or at most three topsails that just bisect the naked masts--as much -naked mast above as below, upright, motionless as a church with its -steeple, as though it moved by its will, as though its speed were -spiritual, the being and essence without the body of motion, or as though -the distance passed away by it and the objects of its pursuit hurried -onward to it! In all other respects I cannot be better off, except perhaps -the two passengers; the one a gay, worldly-minded fellow, not deficient in -sense or judgment, but inert to everything except gain and eating; the -other, a woman once housekeeper in General Fox's family, a creature with a -horrible superfluity of envelope, a monopolist and patentee of flabby -flesh, or rather _fish_. Indeed, she is at once fish, flesh, and _fowl_, -though no chicken. But, ... to see the man eat and this Mrs. Carnosity -talk about it! "I must have that little potato" (baked in grease under the -meat), "it looks so smilingly at me." "Do cut me, if you please" (for she -is so fat she cannot help herself), "that small bit, just there, sir! a -leetle, tiny bit below if you please." "Well, I have brought plenty of -pickles, I always think," etc. "I have always three or four jars of brandy -cherries with me: for with boil'd rice now," etc., "for I always think," -etc. And true enough, if it can be called thinking, she does always think -upon some little damned article of eating that belongs to the -housekeeper's cupboard's locker. And then her plaintive yawns, such a -mixture of moan and petted child's dry _cry_, or _try_ at a cry in them. -And then she said to me this morning, "How unhappy, I always think, one -always is, when there is nothing and nobody as one may say, about _one_ to -amuse _one_. It makes me so _nervous_." She eats, drinks, snores, and -simply the being stupid, and silly, and vacant the learned body calls -nervous. Shame on me for talking about her! The sun is setting so exactly -behind my back that a ball from it would strike the stem of the vessel -against which my back rests. But sunsets are not so beautiful, I think, at -sea as on land. I am sitting at _my_ desk, namely the rudder-case, on the -duck coop, the ducks quacking at my legs. The chicken and duck coops run -thus [Illustration] and so inclose on three sides the rudder-case. But now -immediately that the sun has sunk, the sea runs high, and the vessel -begins its old trick of rocking, which it had intermitted the whole -day--the second intermission only since our voyage. Oh, how glad I was to -see Cape Mondego, and then yesterday the Rock of Lisbon and the fine -mountains at its interior extremity, which I conceived to be Cintra! Its -outline from the sea is something like this - -[Illustration] - -and just at A. where the fine stony M. begins, with a C. lying on its -back, is a village or villages, and before we came abreast of this, we saw -far inland, seemingly close by, several breasted peaks, two towers, and, -by the glass, three, of a very large building, be it convent or palace. -However, I knew you had seen all these places over and over again. The -dome-shaped mountain or Cape Esperichel, between Lisbon and Cape St. -Vincent, is one of the finest I ever saw; indeed all the mountains have a -noble outline. We sail on at a wonderful rate, and considering that we are -in convoy, shall have made a most lucky voyage to Gibraltar, if we are not -becalmed and taken in the Gut; for we shall be there to-morrow afternoon -if the wind hold, and have gone it in ten days. It is unlucky to prophesy -good things, but if we have as good fortune in the Mediterranean, instead -of nine or eleven weeks, we may reach Malta in a month or five weeks, -including the week which we shall most probably stay at Gibraltar. I -shall keep the letters open till we arrive there, simply put two strokes -under the word "=Gibraltar=," and close up the letter, as I may gain -thereby a fortnight's post. You will not expect to hear from me again till -we get to Malta. I had hoped to have done something during my voyage; at -all events, to have written some letters, etc. But what with the rains, -the incessant rocking, and my consequent ill health or stupefaction, I -have done little else than read through the Italian Grammar. I took out -with me some of the finest wine and the oldest in the kingdom, some -marvellous brandy, and rum twenty years old, and excepting a pint of wine, -which I had mulled at two different times, and instantly ejected again, I -have touched nothing but lemonade from the day we set sail to the present -time. So very little does anything grow into a habit with me! This I -should say to poor Tobin, who continued _advising_ and _advising_ to the -last moment. O God, he is a good fellow, but this rage of _advising_ and -_discussing character_, and (as almost all men of strong habitual health -have the trick of doing) of finding out the cause of everybody's ill -health in some one malpractice or other. This, and the self-conceit and -presumption necessarily generated by it, added to his own marvellous -genius at utterly misunderstanding what he hears, and transposing words -often in a manner that would be ludicrous if one did not suspect that his -blindness had a share in producing it--all this renders him a sad -mischief-maker, and with the best intentions, a manufacturer and -propagator of calumnies. I had no notion of the extent of the mischief -till I was last in town. I was low, even to sinking, when I was at the -Inn. Stuart, best, kindest man to me! was with me, and Lamb, and Sir G. -B.'s valet. But Tobin fastened upon me, and advised and reproved, and just -before I stepped into the coach, reminded me of a debt of ten pounds which -I had borrowed of him for another person, an intimate friend of his, on -the condition that I was not to repay him till I could do it out of my -own purse, not borrowing of another, and not embarrassing myself--in his -very words, "till he wanted it more than I." I was calling to Stuart in -order to pay the sum, but he stopped me with fervour, and, fully convinced -that he did it only in the _rage_ of admonition, I was vexed that it had -angered me. Therefore say nothing of it, for really he is at bottom a good -man. - -I dare say nothing of home. I will write to Sara from Malta, the moment of -my arrival, if I have not time to write from Gibraltar. One of you write -to me by the regular post, "S. T. Coleridge, Esqre. Dr. Stoddart's, -Malta:" the other to me at Mr. J. C. Motley's, Portsmouth, that I may see -whether Motley was right or no, and which comes first. - -God bless you all and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Remember me kindly to Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Wilson, to the Calverts and Mrs. -Wilkinson, to Mary Stamper, etc. - - -CLII. TO DANIEL STUART. - - On board the Speedwell, at anchor in the Bay of Gibraltar, - Saturday night, April 21, 1804. - -MY DEAR STUART,--We dropped anchor half a mile from the landing place of -the Rock of Gibraltar on Thursday afternoon between four and five; a most -prosperous voyage of eleven days.... - -Since we anchored I have passed nearly the whole of each day in scrambling -about on the back of the rock, among the monkeys. I am a match for them in -climbing, but in hops and flying leaps they beat me. You sometimes see -thirty or forty together of these our poor relations, and you may be a -month on the rock and go to the back every day and not see one. Oh, my -dear friend! it is a most interesting place, this! A rock which thins as -it rises up, so that you can sit a-straddle on almost any part of its -summit, between two and three miles from north to south. - -[Illustration] - -Rude as this line is, it gives you the outline of its appearance, from the -sea close to it, tolerably accurately; only, in nature, it gives you very -much the idea of a rude statue of a lion couchant, like that in the -picture of the Lion and the Gnat, in the common spelling-books, or of some -animal with a great dip in the neck. The lion's head [turns] towards the -Spanish, his stiffened tail (4) to the African coast. At (5) a range of -Moorish towers and wall begins; and at (6) the town begins, the Moorish -wall running straight down by the side of it. Above the town, little -gardens and neat small houses are scattered here and there, wherever they -can force a bit of gardenable ground; and in these are poplars, with a -profusion of geraniums and other flowers unknown to me; and their fences -are most commonly that strange vegetable monster, the prickly aloe; its -leaves resembling the head of a battledore, or the wooden wings of a -church-cherub, and one leaf growing out of another. Under the Lion's Tail -is Europa Point, which is full of gardens and pleasant trees; but the -highest head of this mountain is a heap of rocks, with the palm-trees -growing in vast quantities in their interstices, with many flowering weeds -very often peeping out of the small holes or slits in the body of the -rock, just as if they were growing in a bottle. To have left England only -eleven days ago, with two flannel waistcoats on, and two others over them; -with two flannel drawers under cloth pantaloons, and a thick pair of yarn -stockings; to have had no temptation to lay any part of these aside during -the whole voyage, and now to find myself in the heat of an English summer, -among flowers, and seeking shade, and courting the sea-breezes; all the -trees in rich foliage, and the corn knee-high, and so exquisitely green! -and to find myself forced to retain only one flannel waistcoat, and roam -about in a pair of silk stockings and nankeen pantaloons, is a delightful -transition. How I shall bear the intensity of a Maltese or even a Sicilian -summer I cannot guess; but if I get over it, I am confident, from what I -have experienced the last four days, that their late autumn and winter -will almost re-create me. I could fill a fresh sheet with the description -of the singular faces, dresses, manners, etc., etc., of the Spaniards, -Moors, Jews (who have here a peculiar dress resembling a college dress), -Greeks, Italians, English, etc., that meet in the hot crowded streets of -the town, or walk under the aspen poplars that form an _Exchange_ in the -very centre. But words would do nothing. I am sure that any young man who -has a turn for character-painting might pass a year on the Rock with -infinite advantage. A dozen plates by Hogarth from this town! We are told -that we shall not sail to-morrow evening. The Leviathan leaves us and goes -to join the fleet, and the Maidstone Frigate is to convoy us to Malta. -When you write, send one letter to me at Mr. J. C. Motley's, Portsmouth, -and another by the post to me at Dr. Stoddart's,[20] Malta, that I may see -which comes first. God grant that my present health may continue, and then -my after-letters will be better worth the postage. But even this scrawl -will not be unwelcome to you, since it tells you that I am safe, improving -in my health, and ever, ever, my dear Stuart, with true affection, and -willing gratitude, your sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -In the diary of his voyage on the Speedwell Coleridge records at greater -length and in a more impassioned strain his first impressions of -Gibraltar. "Saturday, April 21st, went again on shore, walked up to the -furthermost signal-house, the summit of that third and last segment of the -mountain ridge which looks over the blue sea to Africa. The mountains -around me did not anywhere arrange themselves strikingly, and few of their -shapes were striking. One great pyramidal summit far above the rest, on -the coast of Spain, and an uncouth form, an old Giant's Head and -shoulders, looking in upon us from Africa far inland, were the most -impressive; but the sea was so blue, calm, sunny, so majestic a lake where -it is enshored by mountains, and, where it is not [enshored], having its -indefiniteness the more felt from those huge mountain boundaries, which -yet by their greatness prepared the mind for the sublimity of unbounded -ocean--altogether it reposed in the brightness and quietness of the -noon--majestic, for it was great with an inseparable character of unity, -and, thus, the more touching to me who had looked from far loftier -mountains over a far more manifold landscape, the fields and habitations -of Englishmen, children of one family, one religion, and that my own, the -same language and manners--by every hill, by every river some sweet name -familiar to my ears, or, if first heard, remembered as soon as heard! But -here, on this side of me, Spaniards, a degraded race that dishonour -Christianity; on the other, Moors of many nations, wretches that dishonour -human nature! If any one were near me and could tell me, 'that mountain -yonder is called so and so, and at its foot runs such and such a river,' -oh, with how blank an ear should I listen to sounds which probably my -tongue could not repeat, and which I should be sure to forget, and take no -pleasure in remembering! And the Rock itself, on which I stand (nearly the -same in length as our Carrock, but not so high, nor one tenth as wide), -what a complex Thing! At its feet mighty ramparts establishing themselves -in the sea with their huge artillery, hollow trunks of iron where Death -and Thunder sleep; the gardens in deep moats between lofty and massive -walls; a town of all nations and all languages--close below me, on my -left, fields and gardens and neat small mansions--poplars, cypresses, and -willow-leaved aspens, with fences of prickly aloe--strange plant that does -not seem to be alive, but to have been so, a thing fantastically carved in -wood, and coloured--some hieroglyphic or temple ornament of undiscovered -meaning. On my right and immediately with and around me white stone above -stone, an irregular heap of marble rocks, with flowers growing out of the -holes and fissures, and palmettoes everywhere ... beyond these an old -Moorish tower, and then galleries and halls cut out by human labour out of -the dense hard rock, with enormous cannon the apertures for which no eye -could distinguish, from the sea or the land below them, from the -nesting-holes of seafowl. On the north side, aside these, one absolutely -perpendicular precipice, the absolute length of the Rock, at its highest a -precipice of 1,450 feet--the whole eastern side an unmanageable mass of -stones and weeds, save one place where a perpendicular precipice of stone -slants suddenly off in a swelling slope of sand like the Screes on -Wastwater. The other side of this rock 5,000 men in arms, and no less than -10,000 inhabitants--in this [side] sixty or seventy apes! What a -multitude, an almost discordant complexity of associations! The Pillars of -Hercules, Calpe, and Abyla, the realms of Masinissa, Jugurtha, and Syphax: -Spain, Gibraltar: the Dey of Algiers, dusky Moor and black African, and -others. Quiet it is to the eye, and to the heart, which in it will -entrance itself in the present vision, and know nothing, feel nothing, but -the abiding things of Nature, great, calm, majestic, and one! From the -road I climbed up among the rocks, crushing the tansy, the strong smell of -which the open air reconciled to me. I reached the 'striding edge,' where, -as I sate, I fell into the above musing." - - -CLIII. TO HIS WIFE. - -[MALTA,] June, 1804. - -[MY DEAR SARA,]--[I wrote] to Southey from Gibraltar, directing you to -open the letter in case Southey should be in town. You received it, I -trust, and learnt from it that I had been pretty well, and that we had had -a famous quick passage. At Gibraltar we stayed five days, and so lost our -fair wind, and [during our] after-voyage to Malta [there] was [a] storm, -that carried away our main yard, etc., long dead calms, every rope of the -whole ship reflected in the bright, soft blue sea, and light winds, often -varying every quarter of an hour, and more often against us than for us. -We were the best sailing vessel in the whole convoy; but every day we had -to lie by and wait for the laggards. This is very disheartening; likewise -the frequent danger in light winds or calms, or in foggy weather of -running foul of each other is another heavy inconvenience of convoy, and, -in case of a deep calm in a narrow sea, as in the Gut of Gibraltar and in -the Archipelago, etc., where calms are most common, a privateering or -piratical row-boat might board you and make slaves of you under the very -nose of the man-of-war, which would lie a lifeless hulk on the smooth -water. For these row-boats, mounting from one to four or five guns, would -instantly sink a man-of-war's boat, and one of them, last war, had very -nearly made a British frigate _strike_. I mention these facts because it -is a common notion that going under convoy you are "as snug as a bug in a -rug." If I had gone without convoy on board the Speedwell, we should have -reached Malta in twenty days from the day I left Portsmouth, but, however, -we were congratulated on having had a _very good_ passage for the time of -the year, having been only forty days including our stay at Gibraltar; and -if there be inconvenience in a convoy, I have reason to know and to be -grateful for its advantages. The whole of the voyage from Gibraltar to -Malta, excepting the four or five last days, I was wretchedly unwell.... -The harbour at Valetta is narrow as the neck of a bottle in the entrance; -but instantly opens out into a lake with tongues of land, capes, one -little island, etc., etc., where the whole navy of England might lie as in -a dock in the worst of weather. All around its banks, in the form of an -amphitheatre, rise the magnificent houses of Valetta, and its two -over-the-water towns, Burmola and Flavia (which are to Valetta what the -Borough is to London). The houses are all lofty and built of fine white -freestone, something like Bath, only still whiter and _newer_ looking, yet -the windows, from the prodigious thickness of the walls, being all out of -sight, the whole appeared to me as Carthage to Æneas, a proud city, well -nigh but not quite finished. I walked up a long street of good breadth, -all a flight of stairs (no place for beast or carriage, each broad stair -composed of a cement-sand of _terra pozzolana_, hard and smooth as the -hardest pavement of smooth rock by the seaside and very like it). I soon -found out Dr. Stoddart's house, which seemed a large pile of building. He -was not at home, but I stayed for him, and in about two hours he came, and -received me with an explosion of surprise and welcome--more _fun_ than -_affection_ in the manner, but just as I wished it.... Yesterday and -to-day I have been pretty well. In a hot climate, now that the glass is -high as 80 in the shade, the healthiest persons are liable to fever on the -least disagreement of food with the first passages, and my general health -is, I would fain believe, better _on the whole_.... I will try the most -scrupulous regimen of diet and exercise; and I rejoice to find that the -heat, great as it is, does not at all annoy me. In about a fortnight I -shall probably take a trip into Sicily, and spend the next two or three -months in some cooler and less dreary place, and return in September. For -eight months in the year the climate of Malta is delightful, but a -drearier place eye never saw. No stream in the whole island, only one -place of springs, which are conveyed by aqueducts and supply the island -with about one third of its water; the other two thirds they depend for -upon the rain. And the reservoirs under the houses, walls, etc., to -preserve the rain are _stupendous_! The tops of all the houses are flat, -and covered with that smooth, hard composition, and on these and -everywhere where rain can fall are channels and pipes to conduct it to the -reservoirs. Malta is about twenty miles by twelve--a mere rock of -freestone. In digging out this they find large quantities of vegetable -soil. They separate it, and with the stones they build their houses and -garden and field walls, all of an enormous thickness. The fields are -seldom so much as half an acre [Illustration] one above another in that -form, so that everything grows as in huge garden pots. The whole island -looks like one monstrous fortification. Nothing _green_ meets your -eye--one dreary, grey-white,--and all the country towns from the -retirement and invisibility of the windows look like towns burnt out and -desolate. Yet the fertility is marvellous. You almost see things grow, and -the population is, I suppose, unexampled. The town of Valetta itself -contains about one hundred and ten streets, all at right angles to each -other, each having from twelve to fifty houses; but many of them very -steep--a few _staired_ all across, and almost all, in some part or other, -if not the whole, having the footway on each side so staired. The houses -lofty, all looking new. The good houses are built with a court in the -centre, and the rooms large and lofty, from sixteen to twenty feet high, -and walls enormously thick, all necessary for coolness. The fortifications -of Valetta are endless. When I first walked about them, I was struck all -of a heap with their strangeness, and when I came to understand a little -of their purpose, I was overwhelmed with wonder. Such vast masses--bulky -mountain-breasted heights; gardens with pomegranate trees--the prickly -pears in the fosses, and the caper (the most beautiful of flowers) growing -profusely in the interstices of the high walls and on the battlements. The -Maltese are a dark, light-limbed people. Of the women five tenths are -ugly; of the remainder, four fifths would be ordinary but that they look -so _quaint_, and one tenth, perhaps, may be called quaint-pretty. The -prettiest resemble pretty Jewesses in England. They are the noisiest -race[21] under heaven, and Valetta the noisiest place. The sudden -shot-up, explosive bellows-cries you ever heard in London would give you -the faintest idea of it. Even when you pass by a fruit stall the fellow -will put his hand like a speaking trumpet to his mouth and shoot such a -thunderbolt of sound full at you. Then the endless jangling of those -cursed bells, etc. Sir Alexander Ball and General Valette (the civil and -military commanders) have been marvellously attentive--Sir A. B. even -friendly and confidential to me. - -Poor Mrs. Stoddart was brought to bed of a little girl on the 24th of May, -and it died on Tuesday, June 5th. On the night of its birth, poor little -lamb! I had such a lively vision of my little Sara, that it brought on a -sort of hysterical fit on me. O merciful God! how I tremble at the thought -of letters from England. I should be most miserable _without_ them, and -yet I shall receive them as a sentence of death! So terribly has fear got -the upper hand in my habitual feelings, from my long destitution of hope -and joy. - -Hartley, Derwent, my sweet children! a father's blessing on you! With -tears and clasped hands I bless you. Oh, I must write no more of this. I -have been haunted by the thought that I have lost a box of books -containing Shakespeare (Stockdale's), the four or five first volumes of -the "British Poets," Young's "Syllabus" (a red paper book), Condillac's -"Logic," "Thornton on Public Credit," etc. Be sure you inform me whether -or no I did take these books from Keswick. I will write to Southey by the -next opportunity. You recollect that I went away without knowing the -result of Edith's confinement; not a day in which I do not think of it. - -My love to dear Southey, and remember me to Mr. Jackson, and Mrs. Wilson -with the kindest words, and to Mary Stamper. My kind remembrances to Mr. -and Mrs. Wilkinson, and to the Calverts. How is your sister Mary in her -spirits? My wishes and prayers attend her. I am anxious to hear about poor -George and shall write about him to Portsmouth in the course of a week, -for by that time a convoy will be going to England as we expect. I hope -that in the course of three weeks or a month I may be able to give a more -promising account of my health. As it is, I have reason to be satisfied. -The effect of years cannot be done away in a few weeks. I am tranquil and -resigned, and, even if I should not bring back health, I shall at least -bring back experience, and suffer with patience and in silence. Again and -again God bless you, my dear Sara! Let me know everything of your health, -etc., etc. Oh, the letters are on the sea for me, and what tidings may -they not bring to me! - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Single sheet. Per Germania a Londra. An. 1804. - - -CLIV. TO DANIEL STUART. - -SYRACUSE,[22] October 22, 1804. - -MY DEAR STUART,--I have written you a long letter this morning by way of -Messina, and from other causes am so done up and brain weary that I must -put you to the expense of this as almost a blank, except that you will be -pleased to observe my attention to business in having written two letters -of advice, as well as transmitted first and second of exchange for £50 -which I have drawn upon you, payable to order of Dr. Stoddart at usance. I -shall want no more for my return. I shall stay a month at Messina, and in -that time visit Naples. Supposing the letter of this morning to miss, I -ought to repeat to you that I leave the publication of THE PACQUET,[23] -which is waiting for convoy at Malta for you, to your own opinion. If the -information appear new or valuable to you, and the letters themselves -entertaining, etc., publish them; only do not sell the copyright of more -than the right of two editions to the bookseller. He will not give more, -or much more for the copyright of the whole. - -May God bless you! I am, and shall be as long as I exist, your truly -grateful and affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLV. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - - Sat. morning, 4 o'clock. Treasury, Malta. - February 2, 1805. - -DEAR SOUTHEY,--A Privateer is to leave this Port to-day at noon for -Gibraltar, and, it chancing that an officer of rank takes his passage in -her, Sir A. Ball trusts his dispatches with due precaution to this unusual -mode of conveyance, and I must enclose a letter to you in the government -parcel. I pray that the lead attached to it will not be ominous of its -tardy voyage, much less of its making a diving tour whither the spirit of -Shakespeare went, under the name of the Dreaming Clarence.[24] Certain it -is that I awoke about some half hour ago from so vivid a dream that the -work of sleep had completely destroyed all sleepiness. I got up, went to -my office-room, rekindled the wood-fire for the purpose of writing to you, -having been so employed from morn till eve in writing public letters, some -as long as memorials, from the hour that this opportunity was first -announced to me, that for once in my life, at least, I can with strict -truth affirm that I have had _no time_ to write to you, if by time be -understood the moments of life in which our powers are alive. I am -well--at least, till within the last fortnight I _was_ perfectly so, till -the news of the sale of my blessed house played "the foe intestine" with -me. But of that hereafter. - -My dear Southey![25] the longer I live, and the more I see, know, and -think, the more deeply do I seem to know and feel your goodness; and why, -at this distance, may I not allow myself to utter forth my whole thought -by adding your _greatness_? "Thy kingdom come" will have been a petition -already granted, when in the minds and hearts of all men both words mean -the same; or (to shake off a state of feeling deeper than may be -serviceable to me) when gulielmosartorially speaking (_i. e._ William -"Taylorice") the latter word shall have become an incurable synonym, a -lumberly duplicate, thrown into the kennel of the Lethe-lapping Chronos -Anubioeides,[26] as a carriony, bare-ribbed tautology. Oh me! it will not -do! You, my children, the Wordsworths, are at Keswick and Grasmere, and I -am at Malta, and it is a silly hypocrisy to pretend to joke when I am -heavy at heart. By the accident of the sale of a dead Colonel's effects, -who arrived in this healing climate too late to be healed, I procured the -perusal of the second volume of the "Annual Review." I was suddenly and -strangely affected by the marked attention which you had paid to my few -hints, by the insertion of my joke on Booker; but more, far more than all, -by the affection for me which peeped forth in that "William Brown of -Ottery." I knew you stopped before and after you had written the words. -But I am to speak of your reviews in general. I am confident, for I have -carefully reperused almost the whole volume, and what I knew or detected -to be yours I have read over and over again, with as much care and as -little warping of partiality as if it had been a manuscript of my own -going to the press--I can say confidently that in my best judgment they -are models of good sense and correct style; of high and honest feeling -intermingled with a sort of wit which (I now translate as truly, though -not as verbally, as I can, the sense of an observation which a literary -Venetian, who resides here as the editor of a political journal, made to -me after having read your reviews of Clarke's "Maritime Discoveries") -unites that happy _turn_ of words, which is the essence of French wit, -with those comic picture-making combinations of fancy that characterises -the old wit of old England. If I can find time to copy off what in the -hurry of the moment I wrote on loose papers that cannot be made up into a -letter without subjecting you to an expense wholly disproportionate to -their value, I shall prove to you that I have been watchful in marking -what appeared to me false, or _better-not_, or _better-otherwise_, parts, -no less than what I felt to be excellent. It is enough to say at present, -that seldom in my course of reading have I been more deeply impressed than -by the sense of the diffused good they were likely to effect. At the same -time I could not help feeling to how many false and pernicious principles, -both in taste and in politics, they were likely, by their excellence, to -give a non-natural circulation. W. Taylor grows worse and worse. As to his -political dogmata concerning Egypt, etc., God forgive him! He knows not -what he does! But as to his spawn about Milton and Tasso--nay, Heaven -forbid it should be _spawn_, it is pure toad-spit, not as toad-spit is, -but as it is vulgarly believed to be. (_See, too, his Article in the -"Critical Review."_) Now for your feelings respecting "Madoc." I regard -them as all nerve and stomach-work, you having too recently quitted the -business. Genius, too, has its intoxication, which, however divine, leaves -its headaches and its nauseas. Of the very best of the few bad, good, and -indifferent things, I have had the same sensations. Concerning the -immediate chryso-poetic powers of "Madoc" I can only fear somewhat and -hope somewhat. Midas and Apollo are as little cronies as Marsyas and -Apollo. But of its great and lasting effects on your fame, if I doubted, I -should then doubt all things in which I had hitherto had firm faith. -Neither am I without cheerful belief respecting its _ultimate_ effects on -your worldly fortune. O dear Southey! when I see this booby with his ten -pound a day as Mr. Commissary X., and _that_ thorough-rogue two doors off -him with his fifteen pound a day as Mr. General Paymaster Y. Z., it stirs -up a little bile from the liver and gives my poor stomach a pinch, when I -hear you talk of having to look forward to an £100 or £150. But cheerily! -what do we complain of? would we be either of these men? Oh, had I -domestic happiness, and an assurance only of the health I now possess -continuing to me in England, what a blessed creature should I be, though I -found it necessary to feed me and mine on roast potatoes for two days in -each week in order to make ends meet, and to awake my beloved with a kiss -on the first of every January. "Well, my best darling! we owe nobody a -farthing! and I have you, my children, two or three friends, and a -thousand books!" I have written very lately to Mrs. Coleridge. If my -letter reaches her, as I have quoted in it a part of yours of Oct. 19th, -she will wonder that I took no notice of the house and the _Bellygerent_. -From Mrs. C. I have received no letter by the last convoy. In truth I am -and have reason to be ashamed to own to what a diseased excess my -sensibility has worsened into. I was so agitated by the receipt of -letters, that I did not bring myself to open them for two or three days, -half-dreaming that from there being no letter from Mrs. C. some one of the -children had died, or that she herself had been ill, or--for so help me -God! most ill-starred as our marriage has been, there is perhaps nothing -that would so frightfully affect me as any change respecting her health or -life; and, when I had read about a third of your letter, I walked up and -down and then out, and much business intervening, I wrote to her before I -had read the remainder, or my other letters. I grieve exceedingly at the -event, and my having foreseen it does not diminish the shock. My dear -study! and that house in which such persons have been! where my Hartley -has made his first love-commune with Nature, to belong to White. Oh, how -could Mr. Jackson have the heart to do it! As to the climate, I am fully -convinced that to an invalid all parts of England are so much alike, that -no disadvantages on that score can overbalance any marked advantages from -other causes. Mr. J. well knows that but for my absolute confidence in him -I should have taken the house for a long lease--but, poor man! I am rather -to soothe than to reproach him. When will he ever again have loving -friends and housemates like to us? And dear good Mrs. Wilson! Surely Mrs. -Coleridge must have written to me, though no letter has arrived. Now for -myself. I am most anxiously expecting the arrival of Mr. Chapman from -Smyrna, who is (by the last ministry if that should hold valid) appointed -successor to Mr. Macaulay, as Public Secretary of Malta, the second in -rank to the Governor. Mr. M., an old man of eighty, died on the 18th of -last month, calm as a sleeping baby, in a tremendous thunder-and-lightning -storm. In the interim, I am and some fifty times a day subscribe myself, -_Segretario Pubblico dell' Isole di Malta, Gozo, e delle loro dipendenze_. -I live in a perfect palace and have all my meals with the Governor; but my -profits will be much less than if I had employed my time and efforts in my -own literary pursuits. However, I gain new insights and if (as I doubt not -I shall) I return having expended nothing, having paid all my prior debts -as well as interim expense (of the which debts I consider the £100 -borrowed by me from Sotheby on the firm of W. Wordsworth, the heaviest), -with health, and some additional knowledge both in things and languages, I -surely shall not have lost a year. My intention is, assuredly, to leave -this place at the farthest in the latter end of this month, whether by the -convoy, or over-land by Trieste, Vienna, Berlin, Embden, and Denmark, but -I must be guided by circumstances. At all events, it will be well if a -letter should be left for me at the "Courier" office in London, by the -first of May, informing me of all which it is necessary for me to know. -But of one thing I am most anxious, namely, that my assurance money should -be paid. I pray you, look to that. You will have heard long before this -letter reaches you that the French fleet have escaped from Toulon. I have -no heart for politics, else I could tell you how for the last nine months -I have been working in memorials concerning Egypt, Sicily, and the coast -of Africa. Could France ever possess these, she would be, in a far grander -sense than the Roman, an Empire of the World. And what would remain to -England? England; and that which our miserable diplomatists affect now to -despise, now to consider as a misfortune, our language and institutions in -America. France is blest by nature, for in possessing Africa she would -have a magnificent outlet for her population as near her own coasts as -Ireland to ours; an America that must forever be an integral part of the -mother-country. Egypt is eager for France--only eager, far more eager for -G. Britain. The universal cry there (I have seen translations of twenty, -at least, mercantile letters in the Court of Admiralty here (in which I -have made a speech with a wig and gown, a true Jack of all Trades), all -stating that the _vox populi_) is English, English, if we can! but _Hats_ -at all events! (HATS means Europeans in contradistinction to Turbans.) God -bless you, Southey! I wish earnestly to kiss your child. And all whom you -love, I love, as far as I can, for your sake. - - For England. Per Inghilterra. - ROBERT SOUTHEY, Esqre, Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland. - - -CLVI. TO DANIEL STUART. - -Favoured by Captain Maxwell of the Artillery.--N. B., an amiable mild man, -who is prepared to give you any information. - -MALTA, April 20, 1805. - -DEAR STUART,--The above is a duplicate, or rather a _sex_ or -_septem_-plicate of an order sent off within three weeks after my draft on -you had been given by me; and very anxious I have been, knowing that all -or almost all of my letters have failed. It seems like a judgment on me. -Formerly, when I had the sure means of conveying letters, I neglected my -duty through indolence or procrastination. For the last year, when, having -_all_ my heart, _all_ my hope in England, I found no other gratification -than that of writing to Wordsworth and his family, his wife, sister, and -wife's sister; to Southey, to you, to T. Wedgwood, Sir. G. Beaumont, etc. -Indeed, I have been supererogatory in some instances--but an evil destiny -has dogged them--one large and (forgive my vanity!) rather important set -of letters to you on Sicily and Egypt were destroyed at Gibraltar among -the papers of a most excellent man, Major Adye, to whom I had entrusted -them on his departure from Sicily, and who died of the Plague FOUR DAYS -after his arrival at Gibraltar. But still was I afflicted (shame on me! -even to violent weeping) when all my many, many letters were thrown -overboard from the Arrow, the Acheron, and a merchant vessel, to all which -I had entrusted them; the last through my own over care. For I delivered -them to the captain with great pomp of seriousness, in my official -character as Public Secretary of the Islands.[27] He took them, and -considering them as public papers, on being close chased and expecting to -be boarded, threw them overboard; and he, however, escaped, steering for -Africa, and returned to Malta. But regrets are idle things. - -In my letter, which will accompany this, I have detailed my health and all -that relates to me. In case, however, that letter should not arrive, I -will simply say, that till within the last two months or ten weeks my -health had improved to the utmost of my hopes, though not without some -intrusions of sickness; but _latterly_ the loss of my letters to England, -the almost entire non-arrival of letters from England, not a single one -from Mrs. Coleridge or Southey or you; and only one from the Wordsworths, -and that dated September, 1804! my consequent heart-saddening anxieties, -and still, still more, the depths which Captain John Wordsworth's -death[28] sunk into my heart, and which I heard abruptly, and in the very -painfullest way possible in a public company--all these joined to my -disappointment in my expectation of returning to England by this convoy, -and the quantity and variety of my public occupations from eight o'clock -in the morning to five in the afternoon, having besides the most anxious -duty of writing public letters and memorials which belongs to my talents -rather than to my _pro-tempore_ office; these and some other causes that I -cannot mention relative to my affairs in England have produced a sad -change indeed on my health; but, however, I hope all will be well.... It -is my present intention to return home over-land by Naples, Ancona, -Trieste, etc., on or about the second of next month. - -The gentleman who will deliver this to you is Captain Maxwell of the Royal -Artillery, a well-informed and very amiable countryman of yours. He will -give you any information you wish concerning Malta. An intelligent friend -of his, an officer of sense and science, has entrusted to him an essay on -Lampedusa,[29] which I have advised him to publish in a newspaper, leaving -it to the Editor to divide it. It may, perhaps, need a little _softening_, -but it is an accurate and well-reasoned memorial. He only wishes to give -it _publicity_, and to have not only his name concealed, but every -circumstance that could lead to a suspicion. If after reading it you -approve of it, you would greatly oblige him by giving it a place in the -"Courier." He is a sensible, independent man. For all else to my other -letter.--I am, dear Stuart, with faithful recollections, your much obliged -and truly grateful friend and servant, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -April 20, 1805. - - -CLVII. TO HIS WIFE. - -MALTA, July 21, 1805. - -DEAR SARA,--The Niger is ordered off for Gibraltar at a moment's warning, -and the Hall is crowded with officers and merchants whose oaths I am to -take, and accompts to sign. I will not, however, suffer it to go without a -line, and including a draft for £110--another opportunity will offer in a -week or ten days, and I will enclose a duplicate in a letter at large. Now -for the most important articles. My health _had_ greatly improved; but -latterly it has been very, very bad, in great measure owing to dejection -of spirits, my letters having failed, the greater part of those to me, and -almost all mine homeward.... My letters and the duplicates of them, -written with so much care and minuteness to Sir George Beaumont--those to -Wedgwood, to the Wordsworths, to Southey, Major Adye's sudden death, and -then the loss of the two frigates, the capture of a merchant's privateer, -all have seemed to spite. No one not absent on a dreary island, so many -leagues of sea from England, can conceive the effect of these accidents on -the spirit and inmost soul. So help me Heaven! they have nearly broken my -heart. And, added to this, I have been hoping and expecting to get away -for England for five months past, and Mr. Chapman not arriving, Sir -Alexander's importunities have always overpowered me, though my gloom has -increased at each disappointment. I am determined, however, to go in less -than a month. My office, as Public Secretary, the next civil dignitary to -the Governor, is a very, very busy one, and not to involve myself in the -responsibility of the Treasurer I have but half the salary. I oftentimes -subscribe my name 150 times a day, S. T. Coleridge, Pub. Sec. to H. M. -Civ. Commiss{r}, or (if in Italian) Seg. Pub. del Commiss' Regio, and -administer half as many oaths--besides which I have the public memorials -to write, and, worse than all, constant matters of arbitration. Sir A. -Ball is indeed exceedingly kind to me. The officers will be impatient. I -would I could write a more cheerful account of my health; all I can say is -that I am better than I have been, and that I was very much better before -so many circumstances of dejection happened. I should overset myself -completely, if I ventured to mention a _single name_. How deeply I love, O -God! it is agony at morning and evening. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. On being abruptly told by Lady Ball of John Wordsworth's fate, I -attempted to stagger out of the room (the great saloon of the Palace with -fifty people present), and before I could reach the door fell down on the -ground in a convulsive hysteric fit. I was confined to my room for a -fortnight after; and now I am afraid to open a letter, and I never dare -ask a question of any new-comer. The night before last I was much affected -by the sudden entrance of poor Reynell (our inmate at Stowey);[30] more of -him in my next. May God Almighty bless you and-- - - (Signed with seal, [Greek: ESTÊSE].) - - For England. - MRS. COLERIDGE, Keswick, Cumberland. - -Postmark, Sept. 8, 1805. - - -CLVIII. TO WASHINGTON ALLSTON. - -Direct to me at Mr. Degens, Leghorn. God bless you! - -Tuesday, June 17, 1806.[31] - -MY DEAR ALLSTON,--No want of affection has occasioned my silence. Day -after day I expected Mr. Wallis. Benvenuti received me with almost -insulting coldness, not even asking me to sit down; neither could I, by -any enquiry, find that he ever returned my call, and even in answer to a -very polite note enquiring for letters, sent a verbal message, that there -was one, and that I might call for it. However, within the last seven or -eight days he has called and made his _amende honourable_; he says he -forgot the name of my inn, and called at two or three in vain. Whoo! I did -not tell him that within five days I sent him a note in which the inn was -mentioned, and that he sent me a message in consequence, and yet never -called for ten days afterwards. However, yester-evening the truth came -out. He had been bored by letters of recommendation, and till he received -a letter from Mr. ---- looked upon me as a bore--which, however, he might -and ought to have got rid of in a more gentlemanly manner. Nothing more -was necessary than the day after my arrival to have sent his card by his -servant. But I forgive him from my heart. It should, however, be a lesson -to Mr. Wallis, to whom, and for whom, he gives letters of recommendation. - -I have been dangerously ill for the last fortnight, and unwell enough, -Heaven knows, previously; about ten days ago, on rising from my bed, I had -a manifest stroke of palsy along my right side and right arm. My head felt -like another man's head, so dead was it, that I seemed to know it only by -my left hand, and a strange sense of numbness.... - -Enough of it, continual vexations and preyings upon the spirit--I gave -life to my children,[32] and they have repeatedly given it to me; for, by -the Maker of all things, but for them I would try my chance. But they -pluck out the wing-feathers from the mind. I have not entirely recovered -the sense of my side or hand, but have recovered the use. I am harassed by -local and partial fevers. This day, at noon, we set off for Leghorn;[33] -all passage through the Italian States and Germany is little other than -impossible for an Englishman, and Heaven knows whether Leghorn may not be -blockaded. However, we go thither, and shall go to England in an American -ship. Inform Mr. Wallis of this, and urge him to make his way--assure him -of my anxious thoughts and fervent wishes respecting him and of my love -for T----, and his family. Tell Mr. Migliorus [?] that I should have -written him long ago but for my ill health; and will not fail to do it on -my arrival at Pisa--from thence, too, I will write a letter to you, for -this I do not consider as a letter. Nothing can surpass Mr. Russell's[34] -kindness and tender-heartedness to me, and his understanding is far -superior to what it appears on first acquaintance. I will write likewise -to Mr. Wallis and _conjure_ him not to leave Amelia. I have heard in -Leghorn a sad, sad character of one of those whom you called acquaintance, -but who call you their dear friend. - -My dear Allston, somewhat from increasing age, but more from calamity and -intense fra[ternal affections], my heart is not open to more than kind, -good wishes in general. To you, and to you alone, since I left England, I -have felt more, and had I not known the Wordsworths, should have esteemed -and loved you _first_ and _most_; and, as it is, next to them I love and -honour you. Heaven knows, a part of such a wreck as my head and heart is -scarcely worth your acceptance. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLIX. TO DANIEL STUART. - - Bell Inn, Friday Street, - Monday morning, August 18, 1806. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I arrived here from Stangate Creek last night, a little -after ten, and have found myself so unusually better ever since I leaped -on land yester-afternoon, that I am glad that neither my strength nor -spirits enabled me to write to you on my arrival in Quarantine on the -eleventh. Both the captain and my fellow-passengers were seriously alarmed -for my life; and indeed such have been my unremitting sufferings from -pain, sleeplessness, loathing of food, and spirits wholly despondent, that -no motive on earth short of an awful duty would ever prevail on me to take -any sea-voyage likely to be longer than three or four days. I had rather -starve in a hovel, and, if life through disease become worthless, will -choose a Roman death. It is true I was very low before I embarked.... To -have been working so hard for eighteen months in a business I detested; to -have been flattered, and to have flattered myself that I should, on -striking the balance, have paid all my debts and maintained both myself -and family during my exile out of my savings and earnings, including my -travels through Germany, through which I had to the very last hoped to -have passed, and found myself!--but enough! I cannot charge my conscience -with a single extravagance, nor even my judgment with any other -imprudences than that of suffering one good and great man to overpersuade -me from month to month to a delay which was gnawing away my very vitals, -and in being duped in disobedience to my first feelings and previous ideas -by another diplomatic Minister.... A gentleman offered to take me without -expense to Rome, which I accepted with the full intention of staying only -a fortnight, and then returning to Naples to pass the winter.... I left -everything but a good suit of clothes and my shirts, etc., all my letters -of credit, manuscripts, etc. I had not been ten days in Rome before the -French torrent rolled down on Naples. All return was impossible, and all -transmission of papers not only insecure, but being English and many of -them political, highly dangerous both to the sender and sendee.... But -this is only a fragment of a chapter of contents, and I am too much -agitated to write the details, but will call on you as soon as my two or -three remaining [_guineas_] shall have put a decent hat upon my head and -shoes upon my feet. I am literally afraid, even to cowardice, to ask for -any person or of any person. Including the Quarantine we had fifty-five -days of shipboard, working up against head-winds, rotting and sweating in -calms, or running under hard gales with the dead lights secured. From the -captain and my fellow-passenger I received every possible tenderness, only -when I was very ill they laid their wise heads together, and the latter in -a letter to his father begged him to inform my family that I had arrived, -and he trusted that they would soon see me in better health and spirits -than when I had quitted them; a letter which must have alarmed if they saw -into it, and wounded if they did not. I was not informed of it till this -morning. God bless you, my dear sir! I have yet cheerful hopes that Heaven -will not suffer me to die degraded by any other debts than those which it -ever has been, and ever will be, my joy and pride still to pay and still -to owe; those of a truly grateful heart, and to you among the first of -those to whom they are due. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -HOME AND NO HOME - -1806-1807 - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -HOME AND NO HOME - -1806-1807 - - -CLX. TO DANIEL STUART. - -Monday, (?) September 15, 1806. - -MY DEAR STUART,--I arrived in town safe, but so tired by the next evening, -that I went to bed at nine and slept till past twelve on Sunday. I cannot -keep off my mind from the last subject we were talking about; though I -have brought my notions concerning it to hang so well on the balance that -I have in my own judgment few doubts as to the relative weight of the -arguments persuasive and dissuasive. But of this "face to face." I sleep -at the "Courier" office, and shall institute and carry on the inquiry into -the characters of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, and having carried it to the -Treaty of Amiens, or rather to the recommencement of the War, I propose to -give a full and severe Critique of the "Enquiry into the State of the -Nation," taking it for granted that this work does, on the whole, contain -Mr. Fox's latest political creed; and this for the purpose of answering -the "Morning Chronicle"(!) assertions, that Mr. Fox was the greatest and -wisest statesman; that Mr. Pitt was no statesman. I shall endeavour to -show that both were undeserving of that high character; but that Mr. Pitt -was the better; that the evils which befell him were undoubtedly produced -in great measure by blunders and wickedness on the Continent which it was -almost impossible to foresee; while the effects of Mr. Fox's measures must -in and of themselves produce calamity and degradation. - -To confess the truth, I am by no means pleased with Mr. Street's character -of Mr. Fox as a speaker and man of intellect. As a piece of panegyric, it -falls woefully short of the Article in the "Morning Chronicle" in style -and selection of thoughts, and runs at least equally far beyond the bounds -of truth. Persons who write in a hurry are very liable to contract a sort -of snipt, convulsive style, that moves forward by short repeated PUSHES, -with iso-chronous asthmatic pants, "He--He--He--He--," or the like, -beginning a dozen short sentences, each making a period. In this way a man -can get rid of all that happens at any one time to be in his memory, with -very little choice in the arrangement and no expenditure of logic in the -connection. However, it is the matter more than the manner that displeased -me, for fear that what I shall write for to-morrow's "Courier" may involve -a kind of contradiction. To one outrageous passage I persuaded him to add -a note of amendment, as it was too late to alter the Article itself. It -was impossible for me, seeing him satisfied with the Article himself, to -say more than that he appeared to me to have exceeded in eulogy. But -beyond doubt in the political position occupied by the "Courier," with so -little danger of being anticipated by the other papers in anything which -it _ought_ to say, except some obvious points which being common to all -the papers can give credit to none, it would have been better to have -announced his death, and simply led the way for an after disquisition by a -sort of shy disclosure with an appearance of suppression of the spirit -with which it could be conducted. - -There are letters at the Post Office, Margate, for me. Be so good as to -send them to me, directed to the "Courier" office. I think of going to Mr. -Smith's[35] to-morrow, or not at all. Whether Mr. Fox's death[36] will -keep Mr. S. in town, or call him there, I do not know. At all events I -shall return by the time of your arrival. - -May God bless you! I am ever, my dear sir, as your obliged, so your -affectionately grateful friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXI. TO HIS WIFE. - -September 16, [1806.] - -MY DEAR SARA,--I had determined on my arrival in town to write to you at -full, the moment I could settle my affairs and speak decisively of myself. -Unfortunately Mr. Stuart was at Margate, and what with my journey to and -fro, day has passed on after day, Heaven knows, counted by me in sickness -of heart. I am now obliged to return to Parndon to Mr. W. Smith's, at -whose house Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson are, and where I spent three or four -days a fortnight ago. The reason at present is that Lord Howick has sent a -very polite message to me through Mr. Smith, expressing his desire to make -my acquaintance. To this I have many objections which I want to discuss -with Mr. S., and at all events I had rather go with him to his Lordship's -than by myself. Likewise I have had application from the R. Institution -for a course of lectures, which I am much disposed to accept, both for -money and reputation. In short, I must stay in town till Friday sen'night; -for Mr. Stuart returns to town on Monday next, and he relies on my being -there for a very interesting private concern of his own, in which he needs -both my counsel and assistance. But on Friday sen'night, please God, I -shall quit town, and trust to be at Keswick on Monday, Sept. 29th. If I -finally accept the lectures, I must return by the middle of November, but -propose to take you and Hartley with me, as we may be sure of rooms either -in Mr. Stuart's house at Knightsbridge, or in the Strand. My purpose is to -divide my time steadily between my reflections moral and political, -grounded on information obtained during two years' residence in Italy and -the Mediterranean, and the lectures on the "Principles common to all the -Fine Arts." It is a terrible misfortune that so many important papers are -not in my power, and that I must wait for Stoddart's care and alertness, -which, I am sorry to say, is not to be relied on. However, it is well that -they are not in Paris. - -My heart aches so cruelly that I do not dare trust myself to the writing -of any tenderness either to you, my dear, or to our dear children. Be -assured, I feel with deep though sad affection toward you, and hold your -character in general in more than mere esteem--in reverence.... I do not -gather strength so fast as I had expected; but this I attribute to my very -great anxiety. I am indeed _very feeble_, but after fifty-five days of -such horrors, following the dreary heart-wasting of a year and more, it is -a wonder that I am as I am. I sent you from Malta £110, and a duplicate in -a second letter. If you have not received it, the triplicate is either at -Malta or on its way from thence. I had sent another £100, but by Elliot's -villainous treatment of me[37] was obliged to recall it. But these are -trifles. - -Mr. Clarkson is come, and is about to take me down to Parndon (Mr. S.'s -country seat in Essex, about twenty miles from town). I shall return by -Sunday or Monday, and my address, "S. T. Coleridge, Esqre, No. 348 Strand, -London." - -My grateful love to Southey, and blessing on his little one. And may God -Almighty preserve you, my dear! and your faithful, though long absent -husband, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXII. TO THE SAME. - - [Farmhouse near Coleorton,] - December 25, 1806. - -MY DEAR SARA,--By my letter from Derby you will have been satisfied of our -safety so far. We had, however, been grossly deceived as to the -equi-distance of Derby and Loughborough. The expense was nearly double. -Still, however, I was in such torture and my boils bled, throbbed, and -_stabbed_ so _con furia_, that perhaps I have no reason for regret. At -Coleorton we found them dining, Sunday, 1/2 past one o'clock. To-day is -Xmas day. Of course we were welcomed with an uproar of sincere joy: and -Hartley hung suspended between the ladies for a long minute. The children, -too, jubilated at Hartley's arrival. He has behaved very well indeed--only -that when he could get out of the coach at dinner, I was obliged to be in -incessant watch to prevent him from rambling off into the fields. He twice -ran into a field, and to the further end of it, and once after the dinner -was on table, I was out five minutes seeking him in great alarm, and found -him at the further end of a wet meadow, on the marge of a river. After -dinner, fearful of losing our places by the window (of the long coach), I -ordered him to go into the coach and sit in the place where he was before, -and I would follow. In about five minutes I followed. No Hartley! -Halloing--in vain! At length, where should I discover him! In the same -meadow, only at a greater distance, and close down on the very edge of -the water. I was angry from downright fright! And what, think you, was -Cataphract's excuse! "It was a misunderstanding, Father! I thought, you -see, that you bid me go to the very same place, in the meadow where I -was." I told him that he had interpreted the text by the suggestions of -the flesh, not the inspiration of the spirit; and _his Wish_ the naughty -father of the baseborn Thought. However, saving and excepting his passion -for field truantry, and his hatred of confinement [in which his fancy at -least-- - - Doth sing a doleful song about green fields; - How sweet it were in woods and wild savannas; - To hunt for food and be a naked man - And wander up and down at liberty!],[38] - -he is a very good and sweet child, of strict honour and truth, from which -he never deviates except in the form of sophism when he sports his logical -false dice in the game of excuses. This, however, is the mere effect of -his activity of thought, and his aiming at being clever and ingenious. He -is exceedingly amiable toward children. All here love him most dearly: and -your namesake takes upon her all the duties of his mother and darling -friend, with all the mother's love and fondness. He is very fond of _her_; -but it is very pretty to hear how, without any one set declaration of his -attachment to Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Jackson, his love for them continually -breaks out--so many things remind him of them, and in the coach he talked -to the strangers of them just as if everybody _must_ know Mr. J. and Mrs. -W. His letter is only half written; so cannot go to-day. We all wish you a -merry Christmas and many following ones. Concerning the London Lectures, -we are to discuss it, William and I, this evening, and I shall write you -at full the day after to-morrow. To-morrow there is no post, but this -letter I mean merely as bearer of the tidings of our safe arrival. I am -better than usual. Hartley has coughed a little every morning since he -left Greta Hall; but only such a little cough as you heard from him at the -door. He is in high health. All the children have the hooping cough; but -in an exceedingly mild degree. Neither Sarah Hutchinson nor I ever -remember to have had it. Hartley is made to keep at a distance from them, -and only to play with Johnny in the open air. I found my spice-megs; but -many papers I miss. - -The post boy waits. - -My love to Mrs. Lovell, to Southey and Edith, and believe me anxiously and -for ever, - - Your sincere friend - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -[Illustration] - - -CLXIII. TO HARTLEY COLERIDGE, ÆTAT. X.[39] - -April 3, 1807. - -MY DEAR BOY,--In all human beings good and bad qualities are not only -found together, side by side, as it were, but they actually tend to -produce each other; at least they must be considered as twins of a common -parent, and the amiable propensities too often sustain and foster their -unhandsome sisters. (For the old Romans personified virtues and vices -both as women.) This is a sufficient proof that mere natural qualities, -however pleasing and delightful, must not be deemed virtues until they are -broken in and yoked to the plough of _Reason_. Now to apply this to your -own case--I could equally apply it to myself--but you know yourself more -accurately than you can know me, and will therefore understand my argument -better when the facts on which it is built exist in your own -consciousness. You are by nature very kind and forgiving, and wholly free -from revenge and sullenness; you are likewise gifted with a very active -and self-gratifying fancy, and such a high tide and flood of pleasurable -feelings, that all unpleasant and painful thoughts and events are hurried -away upon it, and neither remain in the surface of your memory nor sink to -the bottom of your heart. So far all seems right and matter of -thanksgiving to your Maker; and so all really _is_ so, and will be so, if -you exert your reason and free will. But on the other hand the very same -disposition makes you less impressible both to the censure of your anxious -friends and to the whispers of your conscience. Nothing that gives you -pain dwells long enough upon your mind to do you any good, just as in some -diseases the medicines pass so quickly through the stomach and bowels as -to be able to exert none of their healing qualities. In like manner, this -power which you possess of shoving aside all disagreeable reflections, or -losing them in a labyrinth of day-dreams, which saves you from some -present pain, has, on the other hand, interwoven with your nature habits -of procrastination, which, unless you correct them in time (and it will -require all your best exertions to do it effectually), must lead you into -lasting unhappiness. - -You are now going with me (if God have not ordered it otherwise) into -Devonshire to visit your Uncle G. Coleridge. He is a very good man and -very kind; but his notions of right and of propriety are very strict, and -he is, therefore, exceedingly shocked by any gross deviations from what -is right and proper. I take, therefore, this means of warning you against -those bad habits, which I and all your friends here have noticed in you; -and, be assured, I am not writing in anger, but on the contrary with great -love, and a comfortable hope that your behaviour at Ottery will be such as -to do yourself and me and your dear mother _credit_. - -First, then, I conjure you never to do anything of any kind when out of -sight which you would not do in my presence. What is a frail and faulty -father on earth compared with God, your heavenly Father? But God is always -present. Specially, never pick at or snatch up anything, eatable or not. I -know it is only an idle, foolish trick; but your Ottery relations would -consider you as a little thief; and in the Church Catechism _picking_ and -_stealing_ are both put together as two sorts of the same vice, "And keep -my hands from picking and stealing." And besides, it is a dirty trick; and -people of weak stomachs would turn sick at a dish which a young -_filth-paw_ had been fingering. - -Next, when you have done wrong acknowledge it at once, like a man. Excuses -may show your ingenuity, but they make your _honesty_ suspected. And a -grain of honesty is better than a pound of wit. We may admire a man for -his cleverness; but we love and esteem him only for his goodness; and a -strict attachment to truth, and to the whole truth, with openness and -frankness and simplicity is at once the foundation stone of all goodness, -and no small part of the superstructure. Lastly, do what you have to do at -once, and put it out of hand. No procrastination; no self-delusion; no "I -am sure I can say it, I need not learn it again," etc., which _sures_ are -such very unsure folks that nine times out of ten their sureships break -their word and disappoint you. - -Among the lesser faults I beg you to endeavour to remember not to stand -between the half-opened door, either while you are speaking, or spoken to. -But come _in_ or go out, and always speak and listen with the door shut. -Likewise, not to speak so loud, or abruptly, and never to interrupt your -elders while they are speaking, and not to talk at all during meals. I -pray you, keep this letter, and read it over every two or three days. - -Take but a little trouble with yourself, and every one will be delighted -with you, and try to gratify you in all your reasonable wishes. And, above -all, you will be at peace with yourself, and a double blessing to me, who -am, my dear, my very dear Hartley, most anxiously, your fond father, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I have not spoken about your mad passions and frantic looks and -pout-mouthing; because I trust that is all over. - -HARTLEY COLERIDGE, Coleorton, Leicestershire. - - -CLXIV. TO SIR H. DAVY. - -September 11, 1807. - -... Yet how very few are there whom I esteem and (pardon me for this -seeming deviation from the language of friendship) admire equally with -yourself. It is indeed, and has long been, my settled persuasion, that of -all men known to me I could not justly equal any one to you, combining in -one view powers of intellect, and the steady moral exertion of them to the -production of direct and indirect good; and if I give you pain, my heart -bears witness that I inflicted a greater on myself,--nor should I have -written such words, if the chief feeling that mixed with and followed them -had not been that of shame and self-reproach, for having profited neither -by your general example nor your frequent and immediate incentives. -Neither would I have oppressed you at all with this melancholy statement, -but that for some days past I have found myself so much better in body and -mind, as to cheer me at times with the thought that this most morbid and -oppressive weight is gradually lifting up, and my will acquiring some -degree of strength and power of reaction. - - * * * * * - -I have, however, received such manifest benefit from horse exercise, and -gradual abandonment of fermented and total abstinence from spirituous -liquors, and by being alone with Poole, and the renewal of old times, by -wandering about among my dear old walks of Quantock and Alfoxden, that I -have seriously set about composition, with a view to ascertain whether I -can conscientiously undertake what I so very much wish, a series of -Lectures at the Royal Institution. I trust I need not assure you how much -I feel your kindness, and let me add, that I consider the application as -an act of great and unmerited condescension on the part of the managers as -may have consented to it. After having discussed the subject with Poole, -he entirely agrees with me, that the former plan suggested by me is -invidious in itself, unless I disguised my real opinions; as far as I -should deliver my sentiments respecting the _arts_, [it] would require -references and illustrations not suitable to a public lecture room; and, -finally, that I ought not to reckon upon spirits enough to seek about for -books of Italian prints, etc. And that, after all, the general and most -philosophical principles, I might naturally introduce into lectures on a -more confined plan--namely, the principles of poetry, conveyed and -illustrated in a series of lectures. 1. On the genius and writings of -Shakespeare, relatively to his predecessors and contemporaries, so as to -determine not only his merits and defects, and the proportion that each -must bear to the whole, but what of his merits and defects belong to his -age, as being found in contemporaries of genius, and what belonged to -himself. 2. On Spenser, including the metrical romances, and Chaucer, -though the character of the latter as a manner-painter I shall have so far -anticipated in distinguishing it from, and comparing it with, Shakespeare. -3. Milton. 4. Dryden and Pope, including the origin and after history of -poetry of witty logic. 5. On Modern Poetry and its characteristics, with -no introduction of any particular names. In the course of these I shall -have said all I know, the whole result of many years' continued reflection -on the subjects of taste, imagination, fancy, passion, the source of our -pleasures in the fine arts, in the _antithetical_ balance-loving nature of -man, and the connexion of such pleasures with moral excellence. The -advantage of this plan to myself is, that I have all my materials ready, -and can rapidly reduce them into form (for this is my solemn -determination, not to give a single lecture till I have in fair writing at -least one half of the whole course), for as to trusting anything to -immediate effort, I shrink from it as from guilt, and guilt in me it would -be. In short, I should have no objection at once to pledge myself to the -immediate preparation of these lectures, but that I am so surrounded by -embarrassments.... - -For God's sake enter into my true motive for this wearing detail; it would -torture me if it had any other effect than to impress on you my desire and -hope to accord with your plan, and my incapability of making any final -promise till the end of this month. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A PUBLIC LECTURER - -1807-1808 - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -PUBLIC LECTURER - -1807-1808 - - -CLXV. TO THE MORGAN FAMILY. - - HATCHETT'S HOTEL, Piccadilly, Monday evening, - [November 23, 1807.] - -MY DEAR FRIENDS,--I arrived here in safety this morning between seven and -eight, coach-stunned, and with a cold in my head; but I had dozed away the -whole night with fewer disturbances than I had reason to expect, in that -sort of _whether-you-will-or-no_ slumber brought upon me by the movements -of the vehicle, which I attribute to the easiness of the mail. About one -o'clock I moaned and started, and then took a wing of the fowl and the -rum, and it operated as a preventive for the after time. If very, very -affectionate thoughts, wishes, recollections, anticipations, can score -instead of _grace_ before and after meat, mine was a very religious meal, -for in this sense my inmost heart prayed _before_, _after_, and _during_. -After breakfast, on attempting to clean and dress myself from crown to -sole, I found myself quite unfit for _any_thing, and my legs were painful, -or rather my feet, and nothing but an horizontal position would remove the -feeling. So I got into bed, and did not get up again till Mr. Stuart -called at my chamber, past three. I have seen no one else, and therefore -must defer all intelligence concerning my lectures, etc., to a second -letter, which you will receive in a few days, God willing, with the -D'Espriella, etc. When I was leaving you, one of the little alleviations -which I looked forward to, was that I could write with less embarrassment -than I could utter in your presence the many feelings of grateful -affection and most affectionate esteem toward you, that pressed upon my -heart almost, as at times it seemed, with a bodily weight. But I suppose -it is yet too short a time since I left you--you are scarcely out of my -eyes yet, dear Mrs. M. and Charlotte! To-morrow I shall go about the -portraits. I have not looked at the profile since, nor shall I till it is -framed. An absence of four or five days will be a better test how _far_ it -is a _likeness_. For a day or two, farewell, my dear friends! I bless you -all three fervently, and shall, I trust, as long as I am - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -I shall take up my lodgings at the "Courier" office, where there is a nice -suite of rooms for me and a quiet bedroom without expense. My address -therefore, "_Squire_ Coleridge," or "S. T. Coleridge, Esq: 'Courier' -Office, Strand,"--unless you are in a sensible mood, and then you will -write _Mr._ Coleridge, if it were only in compassion to that poor, -unfortunate exile, from the covers of letters at least, despised _MR._ - - MR. JNO. JAS. MORGAN, - St. James's Square, Bristol. - - -CLXVI. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - -[Postmark, December 14, 1807.] - -MY DEAR SOUTHEY,--I have been confined to my bedroom, and, with exceptions -of a few hours each night, to my bed for near a week past--having once -ventured out, and suffered in consequence. My complaint a low bilious -fever. Whether contagion or sympathy, I know not, but I had it hanging -about me from the time I was with Davy. It went off, however, by a journey -which I took with Stuart, to Bristol, in a cold frosty air. Soon after my -return Mr. Ridout informed me from Drs. Babbington and Bailly, that Davy -was not only ill, but his life precarious, his recovery doubtful. And to -this day no distinct symptom of safety has appeared, though to-day he is -better. I cannot express what I have suffered. Good heaven! in the very -springtide of his honour--his? his country's! the world's! after -discoveries more intellectual, more ennobling, and impowering human nature -than Newton's! But he must not die! I am so much better that I shall go -out to-morrow, if I awake no worse than I go to sleep. Be so good as to -tell Mrs. Coleridge that I will write to her either Tuesday or Wednesday, -and to Hartley and Derwent, with whose letters I was much both amused and -affected. I was with Hartley and Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Jackson in spirit at -their meeting. Howel's bill I have paid, tell Mrs. C. (for this is what -she will be most anxious about), and that I _had_ no other debt at all -weighing upon me, either prudentially or from sense of propriety or -delicacy, till the one I shall mention, after better subjects, in the tail -of this letter. - -I very thoroughly admired your letter to W. Scott,[40] concerning the -"Edinburgh Review." The feeling and the resolve are what any one knowing -you half as well as I must have anticipated, in any case where you had -room for ten minutes thinking, and relatively to any person, with regard -to whom old affection and belief of injury and unworthy conduct had made -none of those mixtures, which people the brains of the best men--none but -good men having the component drugs, or at least the drugs in that state -of composition--_but_ it is admirably expressed--if I had meant only -_well_ expressed, I should have said, "_and_ it is well expressed,"--but, -to my feeling, it is an unusual specimen of honourable feeling supporting -itself by sound sense and conveyed with simplicity, dignity, and a warmth -evidently under the complete control of the understanding. I am a fair -judge as to such a sentence, for from morbid wretchedness of mind I have -been in a far, far greater excess, indifferent about what is said, or -written, or supposed, concerning me or my compositions, than W. can have -been ever supposed to be interested respecting his--and the "Edinburgh -Review" I have not seen for years, and never more than four or five -numbers. As to reviewing W.'s poems, my sole objection would rest on the -_time_ of the publication of the "Annual Review." Davy's illness has put -off the commencement of my Lectures to the middle of January. They are to -consist of at least twenty lectures, and the subject of modern poetry -occupies at least three or four. Now I do not care in how many forms my -sentiments are printed: if only I do not defraud my hirers, by causing my -lectures to be anticipated. I would not review them at all, unless I can -do it systematically, and with the whole strength of my mind. And, when I -do, I shall express my convictions of the faults and defects of the poems -and system, as plainly as of the excellencies. It has been my constant -reply to those who have charged me with bigotry, etc.,--"While you can -perceive no excellencies, it is my duty to appear conscious of no defects, -because, even though I should agree with you in the instances, I should -only confirm you in what I deem a pernicious error, as our principle of -disapprobation must necessarily be different." In my Lectures I shall -speak out, of Rogers, Campbell, yourself (that is "Madoc" and "Thalaba;" -for I shall speak only of _poems_, not of poets), and Wordsworth, as -plainly as of Milton, Dryden, Pope, etc.... I did not overhugely admire -the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," but saw no likeness whatever to the -"Christabel," much less any improper resemblance. - -I heard by accident that Dr. Stoddart had arrived a few days ago, and -wrote him a letter expostulating with him for his unkindness in having -detained for years my books and MSS., and stating the great loss it had -been to me (a loss not easy to be calculated. I have as witnesses T. Poole -and Squire Acland[41] (who calls me infallible Prophet), that from the -information contained in them, though I could not dare trust my -recollection sufficiently for the proofs, I foretold distinctly _every_ -event that has happened of importance, with one which has not _yet_ -happened, the evacuation of Sicily). This, however, of course, I did not -write to Dr. S., but simply requested he would send me my chests. In -return I received yesterday an abusive letter confirming what I suspected, -that he is writing a book himself. In this he conjures up an indefinite -debt, customs, and some old affair before I went to Malta, amounting to -more than fifty pounds (the customs twenty-five pounds, all of which I -should have had remitted, if he had sent them according to his promise), -and informing me that when I send a person properly documented to settle -this account, that person may then take away my goods. This I shall do -to-morrow, though without the least pledge that I shall receive all that I -left.... This will prevent my sending Mrs. C. any money for three weeks, I -mean exclusive of the [annuity of] £150 which, assure her, is, and for the -future will remain, sacred to her. By Wallis' attitude to Allston I lost -thirty pounds in customs, by my brother's refusal[42] all the expenses up -and down of my family. So it has been a baddish year; but I am not -disquieted. - - S. T. C. - -Poor Godwin is going to the dogs. He has a tragedy[43] to come out on -Wednesday. I will write again to you in a few days. After my Lectures I -would willingly undertake any Review with you, because I shall then have -given my Code. I omit other parts of your letter, not that they interested -me less, but because I have no room, and am too much exhausted to take up -a second sheet. God bless you. My kisses to your little ones, and love to -your wife. The only vindictive idea I have to Dr. S. is the anticipation -of showing his letter to Sir Alexander Ball!! The folly of sinning against -our first and pure impressions! It is the sin against _our own_ ghost at -least! - - -CLXVII. TO MRS. MORGAN. - -348, Strand, Friday morning, January 25, 1808. - -DEAR AND HONOURED MARY,--Having had you continually, I may almost say, -present to me in my dreams, and always appearing as a compassionate -comforter therein, appearing in shape as your own dear self, most innocent -and full of love, I feel a strong impulse to address a letter to you by -name, though it equally respects all my three friends. If it had been told -me on that evening when dear Morgan was asleep in the parlour, and you and -beloved Caroletta asleep at opposite corners of the sopha in the -drawing-room, of which I occupied the centre in a state of blessed -half-unconsciousness as a drowsy guardian of your slumbers; if it had been -then told me that in less than a fortnight the time should come when I -should not wish to be with you, or wish you to be with me, I should have -out with one of Caroletta's harmless "_condemn its_" (commonly pronounced -"_damn it_"), "_that's no truth!_" And yet since on Friday evening, my -lecture having made an impression far beyond its worth or my expectation, -I have been in such a state of wretchedness, confined to my bed, in such -almost continued pain ... that I have been content to see no one but the -unlovable old woman, as feeling that I should only receive a momently -succession of pangs from the presence of those who, giving no pleasure, -would make my wretchedness appear almost unnatural, even as if the fire -should cease to be warm. Who would not rather shiver on an ice mount than -freeze before the fire which had used to spread comfort through his fibres -and thoughts of social joy through his imagination? Yet even this, yet -even from _this_ feeling that your society would be an agony, oh I know, I -feel how I love you, my dear sisters and friends. - -I have been obliged, of course, to put off my lecture of to-day; a most -painful necessity, for I disappoint some hundreds! I have sent for -Abernethy, who has restored Mr. De Quincey to health! Could I have -foreseen my present state I would have stayed at Bristol and taken -lodgings at Clifton in order to be within the power of being seen by you, -without being a domestic nuisance, for still, still I feel the -comfortlessness of seeing no face, hearing no voice, feeling no hand that -is dear, though conscious that the pang would outweigh the solace. - -When finished, let the two dresses, etc., be sent to me; but if my illness -should have a completed conclusion, of me as well as of itself, and there -seems to be a distinct inflammation of the mesentery,--then let them be -sent to Grasmere for Mrs. Wordsworth and Miss Hutchinson,--gay dresses, -indeed, for a mourning. - -I write in great pain, but yet I deem, whatever become of me, that it will -hereafter be a soothing thought to you that in sickness or in health, in -hope or in despondency, I have thought of you with love and esteem and -gratitude. - -My dear Mary! dear Charlotte! May Heaven bless you! With such a wife and -such a sister, my friend is already blest! May Heaven give him health and -elastic spirits to enjoy these and all other blessings! Once more bless -you, bless you. Ah! who is there to bless - - S. T. COLERIDGE? - -P. S. Sunday Night. I do not know when this letter was written--probably -_Thursday_ morning, not Wednesday, as I have said in my letter to John. I -have opened this by means of the steam of a tea-kettle, merely to say that -I have, I know not how or where, lost the pretty shirt-pin Charlotte gave -me. I promise her solemnly never to accept one from any other, and never -to wear one hereafter as long as I live, so that the sense of its real -absence shall make a sort of imaginary presence to me. I am more vexed at -the accident than I ought to be; but had it been either of your locks of -hair or her profile (which must be by force and association _your_ profile -too, and a far more efficacious one than that done for you, which had no -other merit than that of having _no_ likeness at all, and this certainly -_is_ a sort of negative advantage) I should have fretted myself into -superstition and been haunted with it as by an omen. Of the lady and her -poetical daughter I had never before heard even the name. Oh these are -shadows! and all my literary admirers and flatterers, as well as despisers -and calumniators, pass over my heart as the images of clouds over dull -sea. So far from being retained, they are scarcely made visible there. But -I love you, dear ladies! substantially, and pray do write at least a line -in Morgan's letter, if neither will write me a whole one, to comfort me by -the assurance that you remember me with esteem and some affection. Most -affectionately have you and Charlotte treated me, and most gratefully do -I remember it. Good-night, good-night! - -To be read after the other. - - MRS. MORGAN, - St. James's Square, Bristol. - - -CLXVIII. TO FRANCIS JEFFREY. - -348 Strand, May 23, 1808. - -DEAR SIR,--Without knowing me you have been, perhaps rather unwarrantably, -severe on my morals and understanding, inasmuch as you have, I -understand,--for I have not seen the Reviews,--frequently introduced my -name when I had never brought any publication within your court. With one -slight exception, a shilling pamphlet[44] that never obtained the least -notice, I have not published anything with my name, or known to be mine, -for thirteen years. Surely I might quote against you the complaint of Job -as to those who brought against him "the iniquities of his youth." What -harm have I ever done you, dear sir, by act or word? If you knew me, you -would yourself smile at some of the charges, which, I am told, you have -fastened on me. Most assuredly, you have mistaken my sentiments, alike in -morality, politics, and--what is called--metaphysics, and, I would fain -hope, that if you knew me, you would not have ascribed self-opinion and -arrogance to me. But, be this as it may, I write to you now merely to -intreat--for the sake of mankind--an honourable review of Mr. Clarkson's -"History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade."[45] I know the man, and if -you knew him you, I am sure, would revere him, and your reverence of him, -as an agent, would almost supersede all judgment of him as a mere -literary man. It would be presumptuous in me to offer to write the review -of his work. Yet I should be glad were I permitted to submit to you the -many thoughts which occurred to me during its perusal. Be assured, that -with the greatest respect for your talents--as far as I can judge of them -from the few numbers of the "Edinburgh Review" which I have had the -opportunity of reading--and every kind thought respecting your motives, - - I am, dear sir, your ob. humb. ser't, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - ---- JEFFRAY (_sic_), ESQ., - to the care of Mr. Constable, Bookseller, Edingburgh (_sic_). - - -CLXIX. TO THE SAME. - - [Postmark] BURY ST. EDMUNDS, - July 20, 1808. - -DEAR SIR,--Not having been gratified by a letter from you, I have feared -that the freedom with which I opened out my opinions may have given you -offence. Be assured, it was most alien from my intention. The purport of -what I wrote was simply this--that severe and long-continued bodily -disease exacerbated by disappointment in the great hope of my Life had -rendered me insensible to blame and praise, even to a faulty degree, -unless they proceeded from the one or two who love me. The -entrance-passage to my heart is choked up with heavy lumber, and I am thus -barricadoed against attacks, which, doubtless, I should otherwise have -felt as keenly as most men. Instead of censuring a certain quantum of -irritability respecting the reception of published composition, I rather -envy it--it becomes ludicrous then only, when it is disavowed, and the -opposite temper pretended to. The ass's skin is almost -scourge-proof--while the elephant thrills under the movements of every fly -that runs over it. But though notoriously almost a zealot in behalf of my -friend's poetic reputation, yet I can leave it with cheerful confidence to -the fair working of his own powers. I have known many, very many instances -of contempt changed into admiration of his genius; but I neither know nor -have heard of a single person, who having been or having become his -admirer had ceased to be so. For it is honourable to us all that our kind -affections, the attractions and elective affinities of our nature, are of -more permanent agency than those passions which repel and dissever. From -this cause we may explain the final growth of honest fame, and its -tenacity of life. Whenever the struggle of controversy ceases, we think no -more of works which give us no pleasure and apply our satire and scorn to -some new object, and thus the field is left entire to friends and -partisans. - -But the case of Mr. Clarkson appeared to me altogether different. I do not -hold his fame dear because he is my friend; but I sought and cultivated -his acquaintance, because a long and sober enquiry had assured me, that he -had been, in an aweful sense of the word, a benefactor of mankind: and -this from the purest motives unalloyed by the fears and hopes of selfish -superstition--and _not_ with that feverish power which fanatics acquire by -crowding together, but in the native strength of his own moral impulses. -He, if ever human being did it, listened exclusively to his conscience, -and obeyed its voice at the price of all his youth and manhood, at the -price of his health, his private fortune, and the fairest prospects of -honourable ambition. Such a man I cannot regard as a mere author. I cannot -read or criticise such a work as a mere literary production. The opinions -publicly expressed and circulated concerning it must of necessity in the -author's feelings be entwined with the cause itself, and with his own -character as a _man_, to which that of the historian is only an accidental -accession. Were it the pride of authorship alone that was in danger of -being fretted, I should have remained as passive in this instance as in -that of my most particular friend, to whom I am bound by ties more close -and of longer standing than those which connect me personally with Mr. -Clarkson. But I know that any sarcasms or ridicule would deeply wound his -feelings, as a veteran warrior in a noble contest, feelings that claim the -reverence of all good men. - -The Review was sent, addressed to you, by the post of yester-evening. -There is not a sentence, not a word in it, which I should not have -written, had I never seen the author. - -I am myself about to bring out two works--one a small pamphlet[46]--the -second of considerable size--it is a _rifacciamento_, a very free -translation with large additions, etc., etc., of the masterly work for -which poor Palm was murdered. - -I hope to be in the North, at Keswick, in the course of a week or eight -days. I shall be happy to hear from you on this or any other occasion. - -Yours, dear sir, sincerely, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -GRASMERE AND THE FRIEND - -1808-1810 - - - - -CHAPTER X - -GRASMERE AND THE FRIEND - -1808-1810 - - -CLXX. TO DANIEL STUART. - -[December 9, 1808.] - -MY DEAR STUART,--Scarcely when listening to count the hour, have I been -more perplexed by the "_Inopem me copia fecit_" of the London church -clocks, than by the press of what I have to say to you. I must do one at a -time. Briefly, a very happy change[47] has taken place in my health and -spirits and mental activity since I placed myself under the care and -inspection of a physician, and I dare say with confident hope, "Judge me -from the 1st January, 1809." - -I send you the Prospectus, and intreat you to do me all the good you can; -which like the Lord's Prayer is Thanksgiving in the disguise of petition. -If you think that it should be advertized in any way, or if Mr. Street can -do anything for me--but I know you will do what you can. - -I have received promises of contribution from many tall fellows with big -names in the world of Scribes, and count even Pharisees (two or three -Bishops) in my list of patrons. But whether I shall have 50, 100, 500, or -1,000 subscribers I am not able even to conjecture. All must depend on -the zeal of my friends, on which I fear I have thrown more water than -oil--but some like the Greek fire burn beneath the wave! - -Wordsworth has nearly finished a series of most masterly Essays[48] on the -Affairs of Portugal and Spain, and by my advice he will first send them to -you that if they suit the "Courier" they may be inserted. - -I have not heard from Savage, but I suppose that he has printed a thousand -of these Prospectuses, and you may have any number from him. He lives hard -by some of the streets in Covent Garden which I do not remember, but a -note to Mr. Savage, R. Institution, Albemarle Street, will find him. - -May God Almighty bless you! I feel that I shall yet live, to give proof of -what is deep within me towards you. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXI. TO FRANCIS JEFFREY. - -GRASMERE, December 14, 1808. - -DEAR SIR,--The only thing in which I have been able to detect any degree -of hypochrondriasis in my feelings is the reading and answering of -letters, and in this instance I have been at times so wofully under its -domination as to have left every letter received lie unopened for weeks -together, all the while thoroughly ashamed of the weakness and yet without -power to get rid of it. This, however, has not been the case of late, and -I was never yet so careless as knowingly to suffer a letter relating to -money to remain unanswered by the next post in my power. I, therefore, on -reading your very kind letter of 8 Dec. conclude that one letter from you -during my movements from Grasmere, now to Keswick, now to Bratha and -Elleray, and now to Kendal, has been mislayed. - -As I considered your insertion of the review of Mr. Clarkson's as an act -of personal kindness and attention to the request of one a stranger to you -except by name, the thought of any pecuniary remuneration never once -occurred to me; and had it been written at your request I should have -thought twenty guineas a somewhat extravagant price whether I considered -the quantity or quality of the communication. As to the alterations, your -character and interest, as the known Editor of the Review, are pledged for -a general consistency of principle in the different articles with each -other, and you had every possible right to alter or omit _ad libitum_, -unless a special condition had been insisted on of _aut totum aut nihil_. -As the writer, therefore, I neither thought nor cared about the -alterations; as a general reader, I differed with you as [to] the scale of -merit relatively to Mr. Wilberforce, whose services I deem to have been -overrated, not, perhaps, so much absolutely as by comparison. At all -events, some following passages should have been omitted, as they are in -blank contradiction to the paragraph inserted, and betrayed a co-presence -of two writers in one article. As to the longer paragraph, Wordsworth -thinks you on the true side; and Clarkson himself that you were not far -from the truth. As to my own opinion, I believed what I wrote, and deduced -my belief from all the facts pro and con, with which Mr. Clarkson's -conversation have furnished [me]; but such is my detestation of that -pernicious Minister,[49] such my contempt of the cowardice and fatuity of -his measures, and my horror at the yet unended train of their direful -consequences, that, if obedience to truth could ever be painful to me, -this would have been. I acted well in writing what on the whole I believed -the more probable, and I was pleased that you acted equally well in -altering it according to your convictions. - -I had hoped to have furnished a letter of more interesting contents to -you, but an honest gentleman in London having taken a great fancy to two -thirds of the possible profits of my literary labours without a shadow of -a claim, and having over-hurried the business through overweening of my -simplicity and carelessness, has occasioned me some perplexity and a great -deal of trouble and letter-writing. I will write, however, again to you my -first leisure evening, whether I hear from you or no in the interim. - -I trust you have received my scrawl with the prospectus[50] and feel -sincerely thankful to you for your kindness on the arrival of the -prospectuses, prior to your receipt of the letter which was meant to have -announced them. But our post here is very irregular as well as -circuitous--but three times a week--and then, too, we have to walk more -than two miles for the chance of finding letters. This you will be so good -as to take into account whenever my answers do not arrive at the time they -might have been expected from places in general. I remain, dear sir, with -kind and respectful feeling, your obliged, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -I entirely coincide in your dislike of "speculative gloom"--it is -illogical as well as barbarous, and almost as bad as "picturesque eye." I -do not know how I came to pass it; for when I first wrote it, I -undermarked it, not as the expression, but as a remembrancer of some -better that did not immediately occur to me. "Year-long absences" I think -doubtful--had any one objected to it, I should have altered it; but it -would not _much_ offend me in the writings of another. But to "moral -impulses" I see at present no objections, nor does any other phrase -suggest itself to me which would have expressed my meaning. That there is -a semblance of presumptuousness in the manner I exceedingly regret, if so -it be--my heart bears me witness that the feeling had no place there. Yet -I need not say to you that it is impossible to succeed in such a work -unless at the commencement of it there be a quickening and throb in the -pulse of hope; and what if a blush from inward modesty disguise itself on -these occasions, and the hectic of unusual self-assertion increase the -appearance of that excess which it in reality resists and modifies? It -will amuse you to be informed that from two correspondents, both of them -men of great literary celebrity, I have received reproof for a supposed -affectation of humility in the style of the prospectus. In my own -consciousness I was guilty of neither. Yet surely to advance as a teacher, -and in the very act to declare yourself inferior to those whom you propose -to teach, is incongruous; and must disgust a pure mind by its evident -hypocrisy. - - -CLXXII. TO THOMAS WILKINSON.[51] - -GRASMERE, December 31, 1808. - -DEAR SIR,--I thank you for your exertions in my behalf, and--which more -deeply interests me--for the openness with which you have communicated -your doubts and apprehensions. So much, indeed, am I interested, that I -cannot lay down my head on my pillow in perfect tranquillity, without -endeavoring to remove them. First, however, I must tell you that ... "The -Friend" will not appear at the time _conditionally_ announced. There are, -besides, great difficulties at the Stamp Office concerning it. But the -particulars I will detail when we meet. Myself, with William Wordsworth -and the family, are glad that we are so soon to see you. Now then for what -is so near my heart. Only a certain number of prospectuses were printed at -Kendal, and sent to acquaintances. The much larger number, which were to -have been printed at London, have not been printed. When they are, you -will see in the article, noted in this copy, that I neither intend to -omit, nor from any fear of offence have scrupled to announce my intention -of treating, the subject of religion. I had supposed that the words -"speculative gloom" would have conveyed this intention. I had inserted -another article, which I was induced to omit, from the fear of exciting -doubts and queries. This was: On the transition of natural religion into -revelation, or the principle of internal guidance: and the grounds of the -possibility of the connection of spiritual revelation with historic -events; that is, its manifestation in the world of the senses. This meant -as a preliminary--leaving, as already performed by others, the proof of -the reality of this connection in the particular fact of Christianity. -Herein I wished to prove only that true philosophy rather leads to -Christianity, than contained anything preclusive of it, and therefore -adopted the phrase used in the definition of philosophy in general: -namely, The science which answers the question of things _actual_, how -they are _possible_? Thus the laws of gravitation illustrate the -_possibility_ of the motion of the heavenly bodies, the action of the -lever, etc.; the reality of which was already known. I mention this, -because the argument assigned which induced me to omit it in a prospectus -was, that by making a distinction between revelation _in itself_ (_i. e._ -a principle of internal supernatural guidance), and the same revelation -conjoined with the power of external manifestation by supernatural works, -would proclaim me to be a Quaker, and "The Friend" as intended to -propagate peculiar and sectarian principles. Think then, dear Friend! what -my regret was at finding that you had taken it for granted that I denied -the existence of an internal monitor! I trust I am neither of Paul, or of -Apollos, or of Cephas; but of Christ. Yet I feel reverential gratitude -toward those who have conveyed the spirit of Christ to my heart and -understanding so as to afford light to the latter and vital warmth to the -former. Such gratitude I owe and feel toward W. Penn. Take his Preface to -G. Fox's Journal, and his Letter to his Son,--if they contain a faithful -statement of genuine Christianity according to your faith, I am one with -you. I subscribe to each and all of the principles therein laid down; and -by them I propose to try, and endeavour to justify, the charge made by me -(my conscience bears me witness) in the spirit of entire love against some -passages of the journals of later Friends. Oh--and it is a groan of -earnest aspiration! a strong wish of bitter tears and bitter -self-dissatisfaction,--Oh that in all things, in self-subjugation, -unwearied beneficence, and unfeigned listening and obedience to the Voice -within, I were as like the evangelic John Woolman, as I know myself to be -in the belief of the existence and the sovran authority of that Voice! -When we meet, I will endeavour to be wholly known to you as I am, in -principle at least. - -A few words more. Unsuspicious of the possibility of misunderstanding, I -had inserted in this prospectus Dress and Dancing among the fine Arts, the -principles common to which I was to develope. Now surely anything common -to Dress or Dancing with Architecture, Gardening, and Poetry could contain -nothing to alarm any man who is not alarmed by Gardening, Poetry, etc., -and secondly, principles common to Poetry, Music, etc., etc., could hardly -be founded in the ridiculous hopping up and down in a modern ball-room, or -the washes, paints, and patches of a fine lady's toilet. It is well known -how much I admired Thomas Clarkson's Chapter on Dancing. The truth is, -that I referred to the drapery and ornamental decoration of Painting, -Statuary, and the Greek Spectacles; and to the scientific dancing of the -ancient Greeks, the business of a life confined to a small class, and -placed under the direction of particular magistrates. My object was to -prove the truth of the principles by shewing that even dress and dancing, -when the ingenuity and caprice of man had elaborated them into Fine Arts, -were bottomed in the same principles. But desirous even to avoid -suspicion, the passage will be omitted in the future prospectuses. -Farewell! till we meet. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. _See P. S._ - -P. S. Do you not know enough of the world to be convinced that by -declaring myself a warm defender of the Established Church against all -sectarians, or even by attacking Quakerism in particular as a sect hateful -to the bigots of the day from its rejection of priesthood and outward -sacraments, I should gain twenty subscribers to one? It shocks me even to -think that so mean a motive could be supposed to influence me. I say aloud -everywhere, that in the essentials of their faith I believe as the Quakers -do, and so I make enemies of the Church, of the Calvinists, and even of -the Unitarians. Again, I declare my dissatisfaction with several points -both of _notion_ and of _practice_ among the present Quakers--I dare not -conceal my convictions--and therefore receive little good opinion even -from those, with whom I most accord. But Truth is sacred. - - -CLXXIII. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -GRASMERE, KENDAL, February 3, 1809. - -MY DEAREST POOLE,--For once in my life I shall have been blamed by you for -silence, indolence, and procrastination without reason. Even now I write -this letter on a speculation, for I am to take it with me to-morrow to -Kendal, and if I can bring the proposed printer and publisher to final -terms, to put it into the post. It would be a tiresome job were I to -detail to you all the vexations, hindrances, scoundrelisms, -disappointments, and pros and cons that, without the least fault or -remissness on my part, have rendered it impracticable to publish "The -Friend" till the first week of March. The whole, however, is now settled, -provided that Pennington (a worthy old bookseller and printer of Kendal, -but a _genius_ and mightily indifferent about the affairs of this life, -both from that cause and from age, and from being as rich as he wishes) -will become, as he has almost promised, the printer and publisher.[52] - -"The Friend" will be stamped as a newspaper and under the Newspaper Act, -which will take 3-1/2d. from each shilling, but enable the essay to pass -into all parts and corners of the Empire without expense or trouble. It -will be so published as to appear in London every Saturday morning, and be -sent off from the Kendal post to every part of the Kingdom by the Thursday -morning's post. I hope that Mr. Stuart will have the prospectuses printed -by this time,--at all events, within a day or two after your receipt of -this letter you will receive a parcel of them. The money is to be paid to -the bookseller, the agent, in the next town, once in twenty weeks, where -there are several subscribers in the same vicinity; otherwise, [it] must -be remitted to me direct. This is the ugliest part of the business: but -there is no getting over it without a most villainous diminution of my -profits. You will, I know, exert yourself to procure me as many names as -you can, for if it succeeds, it will almost _make_ me. - -Among my subscribers I have Mr. Canning and Sturges Bourne, and Mr. W. -Rose, of whose moral odour your nose, I believe, has had competent -experience. The first prospectus I receive, I shall send with letters to -Lord Egmont and Lady E. Percival, and to Mr. Acland. - -You will probably have seen two of Wordsworth's Essays in the "Courier," -signed "G." The two last columns of the second, excepting the concluding -paragraph, were written all but a few sentences by me.[53] An accident in -London delayed the publication ten days. The whole, therefore, is now -publishing as a pamphlet, and I believe with a more comprehensive title. - -I cannot say whether I was--indeed, both I and W. W.--more pleased or -affected by the whole of your last letter; it came from a very pure and -warm heart through the moulds of a clear and strong brain. But I have not -now time to write on these concerns. For _my_ opinions, feelings, hopes, -and apprehensions, I can safely refer you to Wordsworth's pamphlet. The -minister's conduct hitherto is easily defined. A great deal too much -because not half enough. Two essays of my own on this most lofty -theme,--what we are entitled to hope, what compelled to fear concerning -the Spanish nation, by the light of history and psychological knowledge, -you will soon see in the "Courier." Poor Wardle![54] I fear lest his zeal -may have made him confound that degree of evidence which is sufficient to -convince an unprejudiced private company with that which will satisfy an -unwilling numerous assembly of factious and corrupt judges. As to the -truth of the charges, I have little doubt, knowing myself similar facts. - -O dear Poole! Beddoes' departure[55] has taken more hope out of my life -than any former event except perhaps T. Wedgwood's. That did indeed pull -very hard at me; never a week, seldom two days have passed in which the -recollection has not made me sad or thoughtful. Beddoes' seems to pull yet -harder, because it combines with the former, because it is the _second_, -and because I have not been in the habit of connecting such a weight of -despondency with my attachment to him as with my love of my revered and -dear benefactor. Poor Beddoes! he was good and beneficent to all men, but -to me he was, moreover, affectionate and loving, and latterly his -sufferings had opened out his being to a delicacy, a tenderness, a moral -beauty, and unlocked the source of sensibility as with a key from heaven. - -My own health is more _regular_ than formerly, for I am severely temperate -and take nothing that has not been pronounced medically unavoidable; yet -my sufferings are often great, and I am rarely indeed wholly without pain -or sensations more oppressive than definite pain. But my mind, and what is -far better, my _will_ is active. I must leave a short space to add at -Kendal after all is settled. - -My beloved and honoured friend! may God preserve you and your obliged, and -affectionately grateful, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -MY DEAREST POOLE,--Old Mr. Pennington has ultimately declined the printing -and publishing; indeed, he is about to decline business altogether. There -is no other in this country capable of doing the work, and to printing and -publishing in London there are gigantic objections. What think you of a -press at Grasmere? I will write when I get home. Oh, if you knew what a -warmth of unusual feeling, what a genial air of new and living hope -breathed upon me as I read that casual sentence in your letter, seeming to -imply a chance we have of seeing you at Grasmere! I assure you that the -whole family, Mrs. Wordsworth and her all-amiable sister, not with less -warmth than W. W. and Dorothy, were made cheerful and wore a more holiday -look the whole day after. Oh, _do, do_ come! - - -CLXXIV. TO DANIEL STUART. - -Posted March 31, 1809. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--I have been severely indisposed, _knocked up_ indeed, -with a complaint of a contagious nature called _the Mumps_;[56] preceded -by most distressing low spirits, or rather absence of all spirits; and -accompanied with deafness and stupefying perpetual _echo_ in the ear. But -it is going off. Little John Wordsworth was attacked with it last year -when I was in London, and from the stupor with which it suffuses the eyes -and look, it was cruelly mistaken for water on the brain. It has been -brought here a second time by some miners, and is a disease with little -danger and no remedy. - -I attributed your silence to its right cause, and I assure you when I was -at Penrith and Kendal it was very pleasant to me to hear how universally -the conduct of the "Courier" was extolled; indeed, you have behaved most -nobly, and it is impossible but that you must have had a great weight in -the displacing of that prime grievance of grievances. Among many -reflections that kept crowding on my mind during the trial,[57] this was -perhaps the chief--What if, after a long, long reign, some titled -sycophant should whisper to Majesty, "By what means do your Ministers -manage the Legislature?" "By the distribution of patronage, according to -the influence of individuals who claim it." "Do this yourself, or by your -own family, and you become independent of parties, and your Ministers are -your servants. The Army under a favourite son, the Church with a wife, -etc., etc." Good heavens! the very essence of the Constitution is -unmoulded, and the venerable motto of our liberty, "The king can do no -wrong," becomes nonsense and blasphemy. As soon as ever my mind is a -little at ease, I will put together the fragments I have written on this -subject, and if Wordsworth have not anticipated me, add to it some -thoughts on the effect of the military principle. We owe something to -Whitbread for his quenching at the first _smell_ a possible fire. How is -it possible that a man apparently so honest can talk and think as he does -respecting France, peace, and Buonaparte?... - -On Thursday Wordsworth, Southey, and myself, with the printer and -publisher, go to Appleby to sign and seal, which paper, etc., will of -course be immediately dispatched to London. I doubt not but that the £60 -will be now paid at the "Courier" office in a few days; and as soon as you -will let me know whether the stamped paper is to be paid for necessarily -in ready money, or with what credit, I shall instantly write to some of my -friends to advance me what is absolutely necessary. I can only say I am -ready and eager to commence, and that I earnestly hope to see "The Friend" -advertised shortly for the first of May. As to the Paper, how and from -whom, and what and in what quantity, I must again leave to your judgment, -and recommend to your affection for me. I have reason to believe that I -shall commence with 500 names. - -I write from Keswick. Mrs. Southey was delivered yester-morning of a -girl.[58] I forgot to say, that I have been obliged to purchase, and have -paid for, a font of types of small pica, the same with the London -Prospectus, from Wilsons of Glasgow. I was assured they would cost only -from £25 to £28, instead of which, £38 odd. - -God bless you and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXV. TO THE SAME. - -GRASMERE, KENDAL, June 13, 1809. - -DEAR STUART,--I left Penrith Monday noon, and, prevented by the heavy rain -from crossing Grisedale Tarn (near the summit of Helvellyn, and our most -perilous and difficult Alpine Pass), the same day I slept at Luff's, and -crossed it yester-morning, and arrived here by breakfast time. I was sadly -grieved at Wordsworth's account of your late sorrows and troubles.... - -I cannot adequately express how much I am concerned lest anything I wrote -in my last letter (though God knows under the influence of no one feeling -which you would not wish me to have) should chance to have given you any -additional unpleasantness, however small. Would that I had worthier means -than words and professions of proving to you what my heart is.... - -I rise every morning at five, and work three hours before breakfast, -either in letter-writing or serious composition.... - -I take for granted that more than the poor £60 has been expended in the -paper I have received. But I have written to Mr. Clarkson to see what can -be done; for it would be a sad thing to give it all up now I am going on -so well merely for want of means to provide the first twenty weeks paper. -My present stock will not quite suffice for three numbers. I printed 620 -of No. 1, and 650 of No. 2, and so many more are called for that I shall -be forced to reprint both as soon as I hear from Clarkson. The proof -sheet of No. 3 goes back to-day, and with it the copy of No. 4, so that -henceforth we shall be secure of regularity; indeed it was not all my -fault before, but the printer's inexperience and the multitude of errors, -though from a very decent copy, which took him a full day and more in -correcting. I had altered my plan for the Introductory Essays after my -arrival at Penrith, which cost me exceeding trouble; but the numbers to -come are in a very superior style of polish and easy intelligibility. The -only thing at present which I am under the necessity of applying to you -for respects Clement. It may be his interest to sell "The Friend" at his -shop, and a certain number will always be sent; but I am quite in the dark -as to what profits he expects. Surely not book-profits for a newspaper -that can circulate by the post? And it is certainly neither my interest, -nor that of the regular purchasers of "The Friend," to have it bought at a -shop, instead of receiving it as a franked letter. All I want to know is -his terms, for I have quite a horror of booksellers, whose mode of -carrying on trade in London is absolute rapacity.... - -On this ruinous plan poor Southey has been toiling for years, with an -industry honourable to human nature, and must starve upon it were it not -for the more profitable employment of reviewing; a task unworthy of him, -or even of a man with not one half of his honour and honesty. - -I have just read Wordsworth's pamphlet, and more than fear that your -friendly expectations of its sale and influence have been too sanguine. -Had I not known the author I would willingly have travelled from St. -Michael's Mount to Johnny Groat's House on a pilgrimage to see and -reverence him. But from the public I am apprehensive, first, that it will -be impossible to rekindle an exhausted interest respecting the Cintra -Convention, and therefore that the long porch may prevent readers from -entering the Temple. Secondly, that, partly from Wordsworth's own style, -which represents the chain of his thoughts and the movements of his heart, -admirably for me and a few others, but I fear does not possess the more -profitable excellence of translating these down into that style which -might easily convey them to the understandings of common readers, and -partly from Mr. De Quincey's strange and most mistaken system of -punctuation--(The periods are often alarmingly long, perforce of their -construction, but De Quincey's punctuation has made several of them -immeasurable, and perplexed half the rest. Never was a stranger whim than -the notion that , ; : and . could be made logical symbols, expressing all -the diversities of logical connection)--but, lastly, I fear that readers, -even of judgement, may complain of a want of shade and background; that it -is all foreground, all in hot tints; that the first note is pitched at the -height of the instrument, and never suffered to sink; that such depth of -feeling is so incorporated with depth of thought, that the attention is -kept throughout at its utmost strain and stretch; and--but this for my own -feeling. I could not help feeling that a considerable part is almost a -self-robbery from some great philosophical poem, of which it would form an -appropriate part, and be fitlier attuned to the high dogmatic eloquence, -the oracular [tone] of impassioned blank verse. In short, cold readers, -conceited of their supposed judgement, on the score of their possessing -nothing else, and for that reason only, taking for granted that they -_must_ have judgement, will abuse the book as positive, violent, and "in a -mad passion;" and readers of sense and feeling will have no other dread, -than that the Work (if it should die) would die of a plethora of the -highest qualities of combined philosophic and poetic genius. The Apple Pie -they may say is made all of Quinces. I much admired our young friend's -note on Sir John Moore and his despatch;[59] it was excellently arranged -and urged. I have had no opportunity, as yet, to speak a word to -Wordsworth himself about it; I wrote to you as usual in full confidence. - -I shall not be a little anxious to have your opinion of my third number. -Lord Lonsdale blames me for excluding party politics and the events of the -day from my plan. I exclude both the one and the other, only as far as -they are merely _party_, _i. e._ personal and temporal interests, or -merely events of To-day, that are defunct in the To-morrow. I flatter -myself that I have been the first, who will have given a calm, -disinterested account of our Constitution as it really _is_ and _how_ it -is so, and that I have, more radically than has been done before, shown -the unstable and boggy grounds on which all systematic reformers hitherto -have stood. But be assured that I shall give up this opinion with joy, and -consider a truer view of the question a more than recompense for the -necessity of retracting what I have written. - -God bless you! Do, pray, let me hear from you, though only three lines. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXVI. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -October 9, 1809. - -MY DEAR POOLE,--I received yours late last night, and sincerely thank you -for the contents. The whole shall be arranged as you have recommended. Yet -if I know my own wishes, I would far rather you had refused me, and said -you should have an opportunity in a few days of explaining your motives -_in person_, for oh, the autumn is divine here. You never beheld, I will -answer for it, such combinations of exquisite _beauty_ with _sufficient_ -grandeur of elevation, even in Switzerland. Besides, I sorely want to talk -with you on many points. - -All the defects you have mentioned I am perfectly aware of, and am -anxiously endeavouring to avoid. There is too often an _entortillage_ in -the sentences and even in the thought (which nothing can justify), and, -always almost, a stately piling up of _story_ on _story_ in one -architectural period, which is not suited to a periodical essay or to -essays at all (Lord Bacon, whose style mine more nearly resembles than any -other, in his greater works, thought Seneca a better model for his -Essays), but least of all suited to the present illogical age, which has, -in imitation of the French, rejected all the _cements_ of language, so -that a popular book is now a mere bag of marbles, that is, aphorisms and -epigrams on one subject. But be assured that the numbers will improve; -indeed, I hope that if the dire stoppage have not prevented it, you will -have seen proof of improvement already in the seventh and eighth -numbers,--still more in the ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, -fourteenth, and fifteenth numbers. Strange! but the "Three Graves" is the -_only_ thing I have yet heard generally praised and inquired after!! -Remember how many different guests I have at my Round Table. I groan -beneath the _Errata_, but I am thirty miles cross-post from my printer and -publisher, and Southey, who has been my corrector, has been strangely -oscitant, or, which I believe is sometimes the case, has not understood -the sentences, and thought they might have a meaning for _me_ though they -had not for him. There was one direful one,[60] No. 5, p. 80, lines 3 and -4. Read,--"its _functions_ being to take up the passive affections of the -senses into distinct _thoughts_ and _judgements_, according to its own -essential _forms_, formæ formantes in the language of Lord Bacon in -contradistinction to the formæ formatæ." - -My greatest difficulty will be to avoid that _grievous_ defect of running -one number into another, I not being present at the printing. To really -cut down or stretch out every subject to the Procrustes-Bed of sixteen -pages is not possible without a sacrifice of my whole plan, but most often -I will divide them polypus-wise, so that the first half should get itself -a new tail of its own, and the latter a new head, and _always_ take care -to leave off at a paragraph. With my best endeavours I am baffled in -respect of making one Essay fill one number. The tenth number is, W. -thinks, the most interesting, "On the Errors of both Parties," or -"Extremes Meet;" and, do what I would, it stretched to seven or eight -pages more; but I have endeavoured to take your advice _in toto_, and -shall announce to the public that, with the exception of my volume of -Political Essays and State Memorials, and some technical works of Logic -and Grammar, I shall consider "The Friend" as both the reservoir and the -living fountain of all my mind, that is, of both my powers and my -attainments, and shall therefore publish all my poems in "The Friend," as -occasion rises. I shall begin with the "Fears in Solitude," and the "Ode -on France," which will fill up the remainder of No. 11; so that my next -Essay on vulgar Errors concerning Taxation, in which I have alluded to a -conversation with you, will just fill No. 12 by itself. - -I have been much affected by your efforts respecting poor Blake. Cannot -you with propriety give me that narrative? But, above all, if you have no -_particular_ objection, no _very_ particular and _insurmountable_ reason -against it, do, do let me have that divine narrative of John Walford,[61] -which of itself stamps you a poet of the first class in the pathetic, and -the painting of poetry so very rarely combined. - -As to politics, I am sad at the very best. Two cabinet ministers -_duelling_ on Cabinet measures like drunken Irishmen. O heaven, Poole! -this is wringing the dregs in order to drink the last drops of -degradation. Such base insensibility to the awfulness of their situation -and the majesty of the country! As soon as I can get them transcribed, I -will send you some most interesting letters from the ablest soldier I ever -met with (extra aide-de-camp to Sir J. Moore, and shot through the body at -Flushing, but still alive); they will serve as a key to more than one -woe-trumpet in the Apocalypse of national calamity. But the truth is, that -to combine a government every way fitted as ours is for quiet, justice, -freedom, and commercial activity _at home_, with the conditions of raising -up that individual greatness, and of securing in every department the very -man for the very place, which are requisite for maintaining the safety of -our Empire and the Majesty of our power abroad, is a state-riddle which -yet remains to be solved. I have thought myself as well employed as a -private citizen can be, in drawing off well-intentioned patriots from the -wrong scent and pointing out _what_ the _true_ evils are and _why_, and -the exceeding difficulty of removing them without hazarding worse.... I -was asked for a motto for a _market clock_. I uttered the following -literally, without a moment's premeditation:-- - - What now, O man! thou dost or mean'st to do - Will help to give thee peace, or make thee rue, - When hovering o'er the Dot this hand shall tell - The moment that secures thee _Heaven_ or _Hell_.[62] - -May God bless you! My kindest remembrances to Mr. Chubb, and to Ward. Pray -remember me when you write to your sister and Mr. King. Oh, but Poole! do -stretch a point and come. If the F. rises to a 1,000 I will frank you. Do -come; never will you have layed out money better. - - -CLXXVII. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - -December, 1809. - -MY DEAR SOUTHEY,--I suspect you have misunderstood me, and applied to the -Maltese Regiment what I said of the Corsican Rangers. Both are bad enough, -but of the former I know little, of course, as I was away from Malta -before the regiment had left the island. But in the Essays (2 or 3) which -I am now writing on Sir A. Ball, I shall mention it as an exemplification -among many others of his foresight. It was a _job_, I have no doubt, -merely to get General Valette a lucrative regiment; but _G. V._ is dead, -and it was not such a job as that of the Corsican Rangers, which can be -made _appear_ glaring. The long and short of the story is, that the men -were four fifths married, would have fought as well as the best, _at home_ -and behind their own walls, but could not be expected to fight abroad, -where they had no interest. Besides, it was _cruel_, _shameful_ to take -1,500 men as soldiers for any part of our enormous Empire, out of a -population, man, woman, and child, not at that time more than 100,000. -There were two Maltese Militia Regiments officered by their own Maltese -nobility--these against the entreaties and _tears_ of the men and officers -(I myself saw them weeping), against the remonstrances and memorial -(written by myself) of Sir A. B., were melted into one large one, -officered by English officers, and a general affront given to the island, -_because_ General Valette had great friends at the War Office, Duke of -York, etc.! This is the whole, but do not either expose yourself or me to -judicial inquiries. It is one thing to _know_ a thing, and another to be -able to _prove_ it in a law court. This remark applies to the _damnable_ -treatment of the prisoners of war at Malta. - -I should have thought your facts, with which I am familiar, a confirmation -of Miss Schöning.[63] Be that as it may, take my word for it, that in -_substance_ the story is as certain as that Dr. Dodd was hung. To mention -one proof only, Von Hess,[64] the celebrated historian of Hamburg, and, -since Lessing, the best German prosist, went himself to Nuremberg, -examined into the facts officially and personally, and it was on him that -I relied, though if you knew the government of Nuremberg, you would see -that the first account could not have been published as it was, if it had -not been too notorious even for concealment to be hoped for. After I left -Germany, Von Hess had a public controversy that threatened to become a -_Diet_ concern with the magistrates of Nuremberg, for some other bitter -charges against them. I have their defence of themselves, but they do not -even attempt to deny the _fact_ of _Harlin_ and _Schöning_. But, indeed, -Southey! it is almost as bad as if I could have mistaken _e converso_ -Patch's trial for a novel. - -Your remark on the voice is most just, but that was my purpose. Not only -so, but the _whole_ passage was inserted, and intertruded after the rest -was written, _reluctante amanuensi meâ_, in order to _unrealize_ it even -at the expense of _dis_naturalizing it. Lady B. therefore pleased me by -saying, "never was the golden tint of the poet more judiciously employed," -etc. For this reason, too, I introduced the simile of the leaf, etc., etc. -I not only thought the "voice" part out of place, but in bad taste _per -se_. - -May God bless you all. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXVIII. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -GRASMERE, KENDAL, January 28, 1810. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--My "mantraps and spring guns in this garden" have -hitherto existed only in the painted board, _in terrorem_. Of course, I -have received and thank you for both your letters. What Wordsworth may do -I do not know, but I think it highly probable that I shall settle in or -near London. Of the fate of "The Friend" I remain in the same ignorance -nearly as at the publication of the 20th November. It would make you sick -were I to waste my paper by detailing the numerous instances of meanness -in the mode of payment and discontinuance, especially among the Quakers. -So just was the answer I once made in the presence of some "Friends" to -the query: What is genuine Quakerism? Answer, The antithesis of the -present Quakers. I have received this evening together with yours, one as -a specimen. (N. B. Three days after the publication of the 21st Number, -and sixteen days after the publication of the "Supernumerary" [number of -"The Friend," January 11, 1810], a bill upon a postmaster, an order of -discontinuance, and information that any others that may come will not be -paid for, as if I had been gifted with prophecy. And this precious epistle -directed, "To Thomas Coleridge, of Grazemar"! And yet this Mr. ---- would -think himself libelled, if he were called a dishonest man.)... We will -take for granted that "The Friend" can be continued. On this supposition I -have lately studied "The Spectator," and with increasing pleasure and -admiration. Yet it must be evident to you that there is a class of -thoughts and feelings, and these, too, the most important, even -practically, which it would be impossible to convey in the manner of -Addison, and which, if Addison had possessed, he would not have been -Addison. Read, for instance, Milton's prose tracts, and only _try_ to -conceive them translated into the style of "The Spectator," or the finest -part of Wordsworth's pamphlet. It would be less absurd to wish that the -serious Odes of Horace had been written in the same style as his Satires -and Epistles. Consider, too, the very different objects of "The Friend," -and of "The Spectator," and above all do not forget, that these are AWEFUL -TIMES! that the love of reading as a refined pleasure, weaning the mind -from GROSSER enjoyments, which it was one of "The Spectator's" chief -objects to awaken, has by that work, and those that followed (Connoisseur, -World, Mirror, etc.), but still more, by Newspapers, Magazines, and -Novels, been carried into excess: and "The Spectator" itself has -innocently contributed to the general taste for unconnected writing, just -as if "Reading made easy" should act to give men an aversion to words of -more than two syllables, instead of drawing them _through_ those words -into the power of reading books in general. In the present age, whatever -flatters the mind in its ignorance of its ignorance, tends to aggravate -that ignorance, and, I apprehend, does on the whole do more harm than -good. Have you read the debate on the Address? What a melancholy picture -of the intellectual feebleness of the country! So much on the one side of -the question. On the other (1) I will, preparatory to writing on any -chosen subject, consider whether it _can_ be treated popularly, and with -that lightness and variety of illustration which form the charms of "The -Spectator." If it can, I will do my best. If not, next, whether yet there -may not be furnished by the _results_ of such an Essay thoughts and truths -that may be so treated, and form a second Essay. (2) I shall always, -_besides_ this, have at least one number in four of rational -entertainment, such as "Satyrane's Letters," as instructive as I can, but -yet making entertainment the chief object in my own mind. But, lastly, in -the Supplement of "The Friend" I shall endeavour to include whatever of -higher and more abstruse meditation may be needed as the foundations of -all the work after it; and the difference between those who will read and -master that Supplement, and those who decline the toil, will be simply -this, that what to the former will be _demonstrated conclusions_, the -latter must start from as from _postulates_, and (to all whose minds have -not been sophisticated by a half-philosophy) _axioms_. For no two things, -that are yet different, can be in closer harmony than the deductions of a -profound philosophy, and the dictates of plain common sense. Whatever -tenets are obscure in the one, and requiring the greatest powers of -abstraction to reconcile, are the same which are held in manifest -contradiction by the common sense, and yet held and firmly believed, -without sacrificing A to --A, or --A to A.... After this work I shall -endeavour to pitch my note to the idea of a common, well-educated, -thoughtful man, of ordinary talents; and the exceptions to this rule shall -not form more than one fifth of the work. If with all this it will not do, -well! And _well_ it will be, in its noblest sense: for _I_ shall have done -my best. Of parentheses I may be too fond, and will be on my guard in this -respect. But I am certain that no work of impassioned and eloquent -reasoning ever did or could subsist without them. They are the _drama_ of -reason, and present the thought growing, instead of a mere _Hortus -siccus_. The aversion to them is one of the numberless symptoms of a -feeble Frenchified Public. One other observation: I have reason to _hope_ -for contributions from strangers. Some from _you I rely_ on, and these -will give a variety which is highly desirable--so much so, that it would -weigh with me even to the admission of many things from unknown -correspondents, though but little above mediocrity, if they were -proportionately short, and on subjects which I should not myself treat.... - -May God bless you, and your affectionate - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -A JOURNALIST, A LECTURER, A PLAYWRIGHT - -1810-1813 - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -A JOURNALIST, A LECTURER, A PLAYWRIGHT - -1810-1813 - - -CLXXIX. TO HIS WIFE. - -Spring, 1810. - -MY DEAR LOVE,--I understand that Mr. De Quincey is going to Keswick -to-morrow; though between ourselves he is as great a _to-morrower_ to the -full as your poor husband, and without his excuses of anxiety from latent -disease and external pressure. - -Now as Lieutenant Southey is with you, I fear that you could not find a -bed for me if I came in on Monday or Tuesday. I not only am desirous to be -with you and Sara for a while, but it would be of great importance to me -to be within a post of Penrith for the next fortnight or three weeks. How -long Mr. De Quincey may stay I cannot guess. He (Miss Wordsworth says) -talks of a week, but Lloyd of a _month_! However, put yourself to no -violence of inconvenience, only be sure to write to me (N. B.--to me) by -the carrier to-morrow. - -I am middling, but the state of my spirit of itself requires a change of -scene. Catherine W. [the Wordsworths' little daughter] has not recovered -the use of her arm, etc., but is evidently recovering it, and in all other -respects in better health than before,--indeed, so much better as to -confirm my former opinion that nature was weak in her, and can more easily -supply vital power for two thirds of her nervous system than for the -whole. - -May God bless you, my dear! and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Hartley looks and behaves all that the fondest parent could wish. He is -really handsome; at least as handsome as a face so original and -intellectual can be. And Derwent is "a nice little fellow," and no -lack-wit either. I read to Hartley out of the German a series of very -masterly arguments concerning the startling gross improbabilities of -Esther (fourteen improbabilities are stated). It really _surprised_ me, -the acuteness and steadiness of judgment with which he answered more than -half, weakened many, and at last determined that two only were not to be -got over. I then read for myself and afterwards to him Eichhorn's solution -of the fourteen, and the coincidences were surprising. Indeed, Eichhorn, -after a lame attempt, was obliged to give up the two which H. had declared -as desperate. - - -CLXXX. TO THE MORGANS. - -December 21, "1810." - -MY DEAR FRIENDS,--I am at present at Brown's Coffee House, Mitre Court, -Fleet Street. My objects are to settle something by which I can secure a -certain sum weekly, sufficient for lodging, maintenance, and physician's -fees, and in the mean time to look out for a suitable place near Gray's -Inn. My _immediate_ plan is not to trouble myself further about any -introduction to Abernethy, but to write a plain, honest, and full account -of my state, its history, causes, and occasions, and to send it to him -with two or three pounds enclosed, and asking him to take me under his -further care. If I have raised the money for the enclosure, this I shall -do to-morrow. For, indeed, it is not only useless but unkind and -ungrateful to you and all who love me, to trifle on any longer, depressing -your spirits, and, spite of myself, gradually alienating your esteem and -chilling your affection toward me. As soon as I have heard from Abernethy, -I will walk over to you, and spend a few days before I enter into my -lodging, and on my dread ordeal--as some kind-hearted Catholics have -taught, that the soul is carried slowly along close by the walls of -Paradise on its way to Purgatory, and permitted to breathe in some -snatches of blissful airs, in order to strengthen its endurance during its -fiery trial by the foretaste of what awaits it at the conclusion and final -gaol-delivery. - -I pray you, therefore, send me immediately all my books and papers with -such of my linen as may be clean, in my box, by the _errand cart_, -directed--"Mr. Coleridge, Brown's Coffee House, Mitre Court, Fleet -Street." A couple of nails and a rope will sufficiently secure the box. - -Dear, dear Mary! Dearest Charlotte! I entreat you to believe me, that if -at any time my manner toward you has appeared unlike myself, this has -arisen wholly either from a sense of self-dissatisfaction or from -apprehension of having given you offence; for at no time and on no -occasion did I ever see or imagine anything in your behaviour which did -not awaken the purest and most affectionate esteem, and (if I do not -grossly deceive myself) the sincerest gratitude. Indeed, indeed, my -affection is both deep and strong toward you, and such too that I am proud -of it. - - "And looking towards the Heaven that bends above you, - Full oft I bless the lot that made me love you!" - -Again and again and for ever may God bless you, and love you. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -J. J. MORGAN, Esq., No. 7, Portland Place, Hammersmith. - - -CLXXXI. TO W. GODWIN. - -March 15, 1811. - -MY DEAR GODWIN,--I receive twice the pleasure from my recovery that it -would have otherwise afforded, as it enables me to accept your kind -invitation, which in this instance I might with perfect propriety and -manliness thank you for, as an honour done to me. To sit at the same -table with Grattan, who would not think it a memorable honour, a red -letter day in the almanac of his life? No one certainly who is in any -degree worthy of it. Rather than not be in the same room, I could be well -content to wait at the table at which I was not permitted to sit, and this -not merely for Grattan's undoubted great talents, and still less from any -entire accordance with his political opinions, but because his great -talents are the tools and vehicles of his genius, and all his speeches are -attested by that constant accompaniment of true genius, a certain moral -bearing, a moral dignity. His love of liberty has no snatch of the mob in -it. - -Assure Mrs. Godwin of my anxious wishes respecting her health. The scholar -Salernitanus[65] says:-- - - "Si tibi deficiant medici, medici tibi fiant - Hæc tria: mens hilaris, requies, moderata diæta." - -The regulated diet she already has, and now she must contrive to call in -the two other doctors. God bless you. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXXII. TO DANIEL STUART. - -Tuesday, June 4, 1811. - -DEAR STUART,--I brought your umbrella in with me yester-morning, but, -having forgotten it at leaving Portland Place, sent the coachman back for -it, who brought what _appeared_ to me not the same. On returning, however, -with it, I could find no other, and it is certainly as good or better, but -looks to me as if it were not equally new, and as if it had far more silk -in it. I will, however, leave it at Brompton, and if by any inexplicable -circumstance it should not prove the same, you must be content with the -substitute. The family at Portland Place caught at my doubts as to the -identity of it. I had hoped to have seen you this morning, it being a -leisurely time in respect of fresh tidings, to have submitted to you two -Essays,[66] one on the Catholic Question, and the other on Parliamentary -Reform, addressed as a letter (from a correspondent) to the noblemen and -members of Parliament who had associated for this purpose. The former does -not exceed two columns; the latter is somewhat longer. But after the -middle of this month it is probable that the Paper will be more open to a -series of Articles on less momentary, though still contemporary, -interests. Mr. Street seems highly pleased with what I have written this -morning on the battle[67] of the 16th (May), though I apprehend the whole -cannot be inserted. I am as I ought to be, most cautious and shy in -recommending anything; otherwise, I should have requested Mr. Street to -give insertion to the paragraphs respecting Holland, and the nature of -Buonaparte's resources, ending with the necessity of ever re-fuelling the -moral feelings of the people, as to the monstrosity of the giant fiend -that menaces them; [with an] _allusion_ to Judge Grose's opinion[68] on -Drakard[69] before the occasion had passed away from the public memory. -So, too, if the Duke's return is to be discussed at all, the Article -should be published before Lord Milton's motion.[70] For though in a -complex and widely controverted question, where hundreds rush into the -field of combat, it is wise to defer it till the Debates in Parliament -have shown what the arguments are on which most stress is laid by men in -common, as in the Bullion Dispute; yet, generally, it is a great honour to -the London papers, that for one argument they borrow from the -parliamentary speakers, the latter borrow two from them, at all events are -_anticipated_ by them. But the true prudential rule is, to defer only when -any effect of _freshness_ or novelty is impracticable; but in most other -cases to consider _freshness_ of effect as the point which belongs to a -_Newspaper_ and distinguishes it from a library book; the former being the -Zenith, and the latter the Nadir, with a number of intermediate degrees, -occupied by pamphlets, magazines, reviews, satirical and occasional poems, -etc., etc. Besides, in a daily newspaper, with advertisements proportioned -to its sale, what is deferred must, four times in five, be extinguished. A -newspaper is a market for flowers and vegetables, rather than a granary or -conservatory; and the drawer of its editor, a common burial ground, not a -catacomb for embalmed mummies, in which the defunct are preserved to serve -in after times as medicines for the living. To turn from the Paper to -myself, as candidate for the place of _auxiliary_ to it. I drew, with Mr. -Street's consent and order, ten pounds, which I shall repay during the -week as soon as I can see Mr. Monkhouse of Budge Row, who has collected -that sum for me. This, therefore, I put wholly aside, and indeed expect to -replace it with Mr. Green to-morrow morning. Besides this I have had five -pounds from Mr. Green,[71] chiefly for the purposes of coach hire. All at -once I could not venture to walk in the heat and other accidents of -weather from Hammersmith to the Office; but hereafter I intend, if I -continue here, to return on foot, which will reduce my coach hire for the -week from eighteen shillings to nine shillings. But to walk in, I know, -would take off all the blossom and fresh fruits of my spirits. I trust -that I need not say, how pleasant it would be to me, if it were in my -power to consider everything I could do for the "Courier," as a mere -return for the pecuniary, as well as other obligations I am under to you; -in short as working off old scores. But you know how I am situated; and -that by the daily labour of the brain I must acquire the daily demands of -the other parts of the body. And it now becomes necessary that I should -form some settled system for my support in London, and of course know what -my weekly or monthly means may be. Respecting the "Courier," I consider -you not merely as a private friend, but as the Co-proprietor of a large -concern, in which it is your duty to regulate yourself with relation to -the interests of that concern, and of your partner in it; and so take for -granted, and, indeed, wish no other, than that you and he should weigh -whether or no I can be of any material use to a Paper already so -flourishing, and an Evening Paper. For, all mock humility out of the -question (and when I write to you, every other sort of insincerity), I see -that such services as I might be able to afford, would be more important -to a rising than to a risen Paper; to a morning, perhaps, more than to an -evening one. You will however decide, after the experience hitherto -afforded, and modifying it by the temporary circumstances of debates, -press of foreign news, etc.; how far I can be of actual use by my -attendance, in order to help in the things of the day, as are the -paragraphs, which I have for the most part hitherto been called [upon] to -contribute; and, by my efforts, to sustain the literary character of the -Paper, by large articles, on open days, and [at] more leisure times. - -My dear Stuart! knowing the foolish mental cowardice with which I slink -off from all pecuniary subjects, and the particular weight I must feel -from the sense of existing obligations to you, you will be convinced that -my only motive is the desire of settling with others such a plan for -myself, as may, by setting my mind at rest, enable me to realize whatever -powers I possess, to as much satisfaction to those who employ them, and to -my own sense of duty, as possible. If Mr. Street should think that the -"Courier" does not require any auxiliary, I shall then rely on your -kindness, for putting me in the way of some other paper, the principles of -which are sufficiently in accordance with my own; for while cabbage stalks -rot on dung hills, I will never write what, or for what, I do not think -right. All that prudence can justify is NOT to write what at certain times -one may yet think. God bless you and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXXIII. TO SIR G. BEAUMONT. - - J. J. Morgan's, Esq., 7, Portland Place, Hammersmith, - Saturday morning, December 7, 1811. - -DEAR SIR GEORGE,--On Wednesday night I slept in town in order to have a -mask[72] taken, from which, or rather with which, Allston means to model -a bust of me. I did not, therefore, receive your letter and the enclosed -till Thursday night, eleven o'clock, on my return from the lecture; and -early on Friday morning, I was roused from my first sleep by an agony of -toothache, which continued almost without intermission the whole day, and -has left my head and the whole of my trunk, "not a man but a bruise."[73] -What can I say more, my dear Sir George, than that I deeply feel the proof -of your continued friendship, and pray from my inmost soul that more -perseverance in efforts of duty may render me more worthy of your kindness -than I at present am? Ingratitude, like all _crimes_ that are at the same -time _vices_--bad as malady, and worse as symptom--is of so detestable a -nature that an honest man will mourn in silence under real injuries, -[rather] than hazard the very suspicion of it, and will be slow to avail -himself of Lord Bacon's remark[74] (much as he may admire its -profundity),--"Crimen ingrati animi, quod magnis ingeniis haud raro -objicitur, sæpius nil aliud est quam perspicacia quædam in causam -beneficii collati." Yet that man has assuredly tenfold reason to be -grateful who can be so, both head and heart, who, at once served and -honoured, knows himself more delighted by the motive that influenced his -friend than by the benefit received by himself; were it only perhaps for -this cause--that the consciousness of always repaying the former in kind -takes away all regret that he is incapable of returning the latter. - -Mr. Dawe, Royal Associate, who plastered my face for me, says that he -never saw so excellent a mask, and so unaffected by any expression of pain -or uneasiness. On Tuesday, at the farthest, a cast will be finished, which -I was vain enough to desire to be packed up and sent to Dunmow. With it -you will find a chalk drawing of my face,[75] which I think far more like -than any former attempt, excepting Allston's full-length portrait of -me,[76] which, with all his casts, etc., two or three valuable works of -the Venetian school, and his Jason--almost finished, and on which he had -employed eighteen months without intermission--are lying at Leghorn, with -no chance of procuring them. There will likewise be an epistolary essay -for Lady Beaumont on the subject of religion in reference to my own faith; -it was too long to send by the post. - -Dawe is engaged on a picture (the figures about four feet) from my poem of -LOVE. - - She leaned beside the armed man, - The statue of the armed knight; - She stood and listened to my harp - Amid the lingering light. - His dying words--but when I reached, etc. - All impulses of soul and sense, etc. - -His sketch is very beautiful, and has more expression than I ever found in -his former productions--excepting, indeed, his Imogen. - -Allston is hard at work on a large Scripture piece--the dead man recalled -to life by touching the bones of the Prophet. He models every figure. -Dawe, who was delighted with the Cupid and Psyche, seemed quite astonished -at the facility and exquisiteness with which Allston modelled. Canova at -Rome expressed himself to me in very warm terms of admiration on the same -subject. He means to exhibit but two or at the most three pictures, all -poetical or history painting, in part by my advice. It seemed to me -impolitic to appear to be _trying_ in half a dozen ways, as if his mind -had not yet discovered its main current. The longer I live the more deeply -am I convinced of the high importance, as a _symptom_, of the love of -_beauty_ in a young painter. It is neither honourable to a young man's -heart or head to attach himself year after year to old or deformed -objects, comparatively too so easy, especially if bad drawing and worse -colouring leaves the spectator's imagination at lawless liberty, and he -cries out, "How very like!" just as he would at a coal in the centre of -the fire, or at a frost-figure on a window pane. It is on this, added to -his quiet unenvious spirit, to his lofty feelings concerning his art, and -to the religious purity of his moral character, that I chiefly rest my -hopes of Allston's future fame. His best productions seem to please him -principally because he sees and has learnt something which enables him to -promise himself, "I shall do better in my next." - -I have not been at the "Courier" office for some months past. I detest -writing politics, even on the right side, and when I discovered that the -"Courier" was not the independent paper I had been led to believe, and had -myself over and over again asserted, I wrote no more for it. Greatly, -indeed, do I prefer the present Ministers to the leaders of any other -party, but indiscriminate support of any class of men I dare not give, -especially when there is so easy and honourable an alternative as not to -write politics at all, which, henceforth, nothing but blank necessity -shall compel me to do. I will write for the PERMANENT, or not at all. "The -Comet" therefore I have never seen or heard of it, yet most true it is -that I myself have composed some verses on the comet, but I am quite -certain that no one ever saw them, for the best of all reasons, that my -own brain is the only substance on which they have been recorded. I will, -however, consign them to paper, and send them to you with the "Courier" -poem as soon as I can procure it, for the curiosity of the thing.... - -My most affectionate respects to Lady Beaumont, and believe me, dear Sir -George, with heartfelt regard, - - Your obliged and grateful friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. Were you in town, I should be very sorry, indeed, to see you in -Fetter Lane.[77] The lectures were meant for the young men of the City. -Several of my friends join to take notes, and if I can correct what they -can shape out of them into any tolerable form, I will send them to you. On -Monday I lecture on "Love and the Female Character as displayed by -Shakespeare." Good Dr. Bell is in town. He came from Keswick, all delight -with my little Sara, and quite enchanted with Southey. Some flights of -admiration in the form of questions to me ("Did you ever see anything so -finely conceived? so profoundly thought? as this passage in his review on -the Methodists? or on the Education?" etc.) embarrassed me in a very -ridiculous way; and, I verily believe, that my odd way of hesitating left -on Bell's mind some shade of a suspicion, as if I did not like to hear my -friend so highly extolled. Half a dozen words from Southey would have -precluded this, without diminution to his own fame--I mean, in -conversation with Dr. Bell. - - -CLXXXIV. TO J. J. MORGAN. - -KESWICK,[78] Sunday, February 28, 1812. - -MY DEAR MORGAN,--I stayed a day in Kendal in order to collect the reprint -of "The Friend," and reached Keswick on Tuesday last before dinner, having -taken Hartley and Derwent with me from Ambleside. Of course the first -evening was devoted _Laribus domesticis_, to Southey and his and my -children. My own are all the fondest father could pray for; and little -Sara does honour to her mother's anxieties, reads French tolerably, and -Italian fluently, and I was astonished at her acquaintance with her native -language. The word "hostile" occurring in what she read to me, I asked her -what "hostile" meant? and she answered at once, "Why! inimical; only that -'inimical' is more often used for things and measures and not, as -'hostile' is, to persons and nations." If I had dared, I should have urged -Mrs. C. to let me take her to London for four or five months, and return -with Southey, but I feared it might be inconvenient to you, and I knew it -would be presumptuous in me to bring her to you. But she is such a -sweet-tempered, meek, blue-eyed fairy and so affectionate, trustworthy, -and really serviceable! Derwent is the self-same, fond, small, Samuel -Taylor Coleridge as ever. When I went for them from Mr. Dawes,[79] he came -in dancing for joy, while Hartley turned pale[80] and trembled all -over,--then after he had taken some cold water, instantly asked me some -questions about the connection of the Greek with the Latin, which latter -he has just begun to learn. Poor Derwent, who has by no means strong -health (having inherited his poor father's tenderness of bowels and -stomach, and consequently capriciousness of animal spirits), has -complained to me (having no other possible grievance) "that Mr. Dawes does -not _love_ him, because he can't help crying when he is scolded, and -because he ain't such a genius as Hartley--and that though Hartley should -have done the same thing, yet all the others are punished, and Mr. Dawes -only _looks_ at Hartley and never scolds _him_, and that _all_ the boys -think it very unfair--he _is_ a genius." This was uttered in low spirits -and a tenderness brought on by my petting, for he adores his brother. -Indeed, God be praised, they all love each other. I was delighted that -Derwent, of his own accord, asked me about little Miss Brent that used to -play with him at Mr. and Mrs. Morgan's, adding that he had almost forgot -what sort of a lady she was, "only she was littler,--less I mean--(this -was said hastily and laughing at his blunder) than Mama." A gentleman who -took a third of the chaise with me from Ambleside, and whom I found a -well-informed and thinking man, said after two hours' knowledge of us, -that the two boys united would be a perfect representation of myself. - -I trust I need not say that I should have written on the second day if -nothing had happened; but from the dreadful dampness of the house, worse -than it was in the rudest state when I first lived in it, and the weather, -too, all storm and rain, I caught a violent cold which almost blinded me -by inflammation of both my eyes, and for three days bore all the symptoms -of an ague or intermittent fever. Knowing I had no time to lose, I took -the most Herculean remedies, among others a solution of arsenic, and am -now as well as when I left you, and see no reason to fear a relapse. I -passed through Grasmere; but did not call on Wordsworth. I hear from Mrs. -C. that he treats the affair as a trifle, and only wonders at my resenting -it, and that Dorothy Wordsworth before my arrival expressed her confident -hope that I should come to them at once! I who "for years past had been an -ABSOLUTE NUISANCE in the family." This illness has thrown me behindhand; -so that I cannot quit Keswick till the end of the week. On Friday I shall -return by way of Ambleside, probably spend a day with Charles Lloyd.... It -will not surprise you that the statements respecting me and Montagu and -Wordsworth have been grossly perverted: and yet, spite of all this, there -is not a friend of Wordsworth's, I understand, who does not severely blame -him, though they execrate the Montagus yet more heavily. But the tenth -part of the truth is not known. Would you believe it possible that -Wordsworth himself stated my _wearing powder_ as a proof positive that I -never could have suffered any pain of mind from the affair, and that it -was all pretence!! God forgive him! At Liverpool I shall either give -lectures, if I can secure a hundred pounds for them, or return immediately -to you. At all events, I shall not remain there beyond a fortnight, so -that I shall be with you before you have changed houses. Mrs. Coleridge -seems quite satisfied with my plans, and abundantly convinced of my -obligations to your and Mary's kindness to me. Nothing (she said) but the -circumstance of my residing with you could reconcile her to my living in -London. Southey is the _semper idem_. It is impossible for a good heart -not to esteem and to love him; but yet the love is one fourth, the esteem -all the remainder. His children are, 1. Edith, seven years; 2. Herbert, -five; 3. Bertha, four; 4. Catharine, a year and a half. - -I had hoped to have heard from you by this time. I wrote from Slough, from -Liverpool, and from Kendal. Why need I send my kindest love to Mary and -Charlotte? I would not return if I had a doubt that they believed me to be -in the very inmost of my being their and your affectionate and grateful -and constant friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXXV. TO HIS WIFE. - -71, Berners Street, Tuesday, April 21, 1812. - -MY DEAR LOVE,--Everything is going on so very well, so much beyond my -expectation, that I will not revert to anything unpleasant to damp good -news with. The last receipt for the insurance is now before me, the date -the 4th of May. Be assured that before April is past, you shall _receive_ -both receipts, this and the one for the present year, in a frank. - -In the first place, my health, spirits, and disposition to activity have -continued such since my arrival in town, that every one has been struck -with the change, and the Morgans say they had never before seen me -_myself_. I feel myself an altered man, and dare promise you that you -shall never have to complain of, or to apprehend, my not opening and -reading your letters. Ever since I have been in town, I have never taken -any stimulus of _any_ kind, till the moment of my getting into bed, except -a glass of British white wine after dinner, and from three to four glasses -of port, when I have dined out. Secondly, my lectures have been taken up -most warmly and zealously by Sir Thomas Bernard,[81] Sir George Beaumont, -Mr. Sotheby, etc., and in a few days, I trust that you will be agreeably -surprised with the mode in which Sir T. B. hopes and will use his best -exertions to have them announced. Thirdly, Gale and Curtis are in high -spirits and confident respecting the sale of "The Friend,"[82] and the -call for a second edition, after the complemental numbers have been -printed, and not less so respecting the success of the other work, the -Propædia (or Propaideia) Cyclica, and are desirous to have the terms -properly ratified, and signed as soon as possible. Nothing intervenes to -overgloom my mind, but the sad state of health of Mr. Morgan, a more -faithful and zealous friend than whom no man ever possessed. Thank God! my -safe arrival, the improvement of my health and spirits, and my smiling -prospects have already exerted a favourable influence on him. Yet I dare -not disguise from myself that there is cause for alarm to those who love -and value him. But do not allude to this subject in your letters, for to -be thought ill or to have his state of health spoken of, agitates and -depresses him. - -As soon as ever I have settled the lecture room, which perhaps will be -Willis's in Hanover Square, the price of which is at present ten guineas a -time, I will the very first thing pay the insurance and send off a parcel -of books for Hartley, Derwent, and dear Sara, whom I kissed seven times in -the shape of her pretty letterlet. - -My poor darling Derwent! I shall be most anxious to receive a letter from -you, or from himself, about him. - -In giving my love to Mrs. Lovell, tell her that I have not since the day -after my arrival been able to go into the city, my business having -employed me wholly either in writing or in traversing the West End of the -town. I dined with Lady Beaumont and her sister on Saturday, for Sir -George was engaged to Sir T. Bernard. He however came and sat with us to -the very last moment, and I dine with him to-day, and Allston is to be of -the party. The bust and the picture from Genevieve are at the Royal -Academy, and already are talked of. Dawe and I will be of mutual service -to each other. As soon as the pictures are settled, that is, in the first -week of May, he means to treat himself with a fortnight's relaxation at -the Lakes. He is a very modest man, his manners not over polished, and his -worst point is that he is (at least, I have found him so) a fearful -questionist, whenever he thinks he can pick up any information, or ideas, -poetical, historical, topographical, or artistical, that he can make bear -on his profession. But he is sincere, friendly, strictly _moral_ in every -respect, I firmly believe even to _innocence_, and in point of cheerful -indefatigableness of industry, in regularity, and temperance--in short, in -a glad, yet quiet, devotion of his whole being to the art he has made -choice of, he is the only man I ever knew who goes near to rival -Southey--gentlemanly address, person, physiognomy, knowledge, learning, -and genius being of course wholly excluded from the comparison. God knows -my heart! and that it is my full belief and conviction, that taking all -_together_, there does not exist the man who could without flattery or -delusion be called Southey's equal. It is quite delightful to hear how he -is spoken of by all good people. Dawe will doubtless _take_ him. Were S. -and I rich men, we would have ourselves and all of you, short and tall, in -one family picture. Pray receive Dawe as a friend. I called on Murray, who -complained that by Dr. Bell's delays and irresolutions and scruples, the -book "On the Origin,"[83] etc., instead of 3,000 in three weeks, which he -has no doubt would have been the sale had it been brought out at the fit -time, will not now sell 300. I told him that I believed otherwise, but -much would depend on the circumstance whether temper or prudence would -have most influence on the Athenian critic and his friend Brougham. If, as -I hoped, the former, and the work should be reviewed in the "Edinburgh -Review," if they took up the gauntlet thrown at them, then there was no -doubt but that a strong tide of sale would set in. Though verily this -gauntlet was of weighty metal, though of polished steel, and being thrown -_at_ rather than _down_, it was challenging a man to fight by a blow that -threatened to brain him. I have seen Dr. Bell and shall dine with him at -Sir T. Bernard's on Monday next. The venerable Bishop of Durham[84] has -sent me a very kind message, that though he cannot himself appear in a -hired lecture room, yet he will be not only my subscriber but use his best -influence with his acquaintance. I am very anxious that my books should be -sent forward as soon as possible. They may be sent at three different -times, with a week's intervention. But there is one, scarcely a book, but -a collection of loose sheets tied up together at Grasmere, which I want -immediately, and, if possible, would have sent up by the coach from Kendal -or Penrith. It is a German Romance with some name beginning with an A, -followed by "oder Die Glückliche Inseln." It makes two volumes, but -several of the sheets are missing, at least were so when I put them -together. If sent off immediately, it would be of serious benefit to me in -my lectures. Miss Hutchinson knows them, and will probably recollect the -sheets I allude to, and these are what I especially want. - -One pair only of breeches were in the parcel, and I am sadly off for -stockings, but the white and under ones I can buy here cheap, but if -young Mr. White could procure half a dozen or even a dozen pair of black -silk made as stout and weighty as possible, I would not mind giving -seventeen shillings per pair, if only they can be _relied_ on, which one -cannot do in London. A double knock. I meant to read over your letter -again, lest I should have forgot anything. If I have, I will answer it in -my next. - -God bless you and your affectionate husband, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Has Southey read "Childe Harold"? All the world is talking of it. I have -not, but from what I hear it is exactly on the plan that I myself had not -only conceived six years ago, but have the whole scheme drawn out in one -of my old memorandum books. My dear Edith, and my dear Moon![85] Though I -have scarce room to write it, yet I love you very much. - - -CLXXXVI. TO THE SAME. - -71, Berners Street, April 24, 1812. - -MY DEAR SARA,--Give my kind love to Southey, and inform him that I have, -_egomet his ipsis meis oculis_, seen _Nobs_, alive, well, and in full -fleece; that after the death of Dr. Samuel Dove,[86] of Doncaster, who did -not survive the loss of his faithful wife, Mrs. Dorothy Dove, more than -eleven months, Nobs was disposed of by his executors to Longman and -Clements, Musical Instrument Manufacturers, whose grand pianoforte hearses -he now draws in the streets of London. The carter was astonished at the -enthusiasm with which I intreated him to stop for half a minute, and the -embrace I gave to _Nobs_, who evidently understood me, and wistfully with -_such_ a sad expression in his eye, seemed to say, "Ah, my kind old -master, Doctor Daniel, and ah! my mild mistress, his dear duteous Dolly -Dove, my gratitude lies deeper than my obligation; it is not merely -skin-deep! Ah, what I _have_ been! Oh, what I _am_! his naked, neighing, -night-wandering, new-skinned, nibbling, noblenursling, _Nobs_!" - -His legs and hoofs are more than half sheepified, and his fleece richer -than one ever sees in the Leicester breed, but not so fine as might have -been the case had the merino cross been introduced before the surprising -accident and _more_ surprising remedy took place. _More_ surprising I say, -because the first happened to St. Bartholomew (for there were skinners -even in the days of St. Bartholomew), but the other never before there was -no Dr. Daniel Dove. I trust that Southey will now not hesitate to record -and transmit to posterity so remarkable a fact. I am delighted, for now -malice itself will not dare to attribute the story to my invention. If I -can procure the money, I will attempt to purchase Nobs, and send him down -to Keswick by short journeys for Herbert and Derwent to ride upon, -provided you can get the field next us. - -I have not been able to procure a frank, but I daresay you will be glad to -receive the enclosed receipt even with the drawback of postage. - -Everything, my dear, goes on as prosperously as you could yourself wish. -Sir T. Bernard has taken Willis's Rooms, King Street, St. James's, for me, -at only four guineas a week, fires, benches, etc., included, and I expect -the lectures to commence on the first Tuesday in May. But at the present -moment I need both the advice and the aid of Southey. The "Friends" have -arrived in town. I am at work on the Supplemental Numbers, and it is of -the last importance that they should be brought out as quickly as possible -during the flush and fresh breeze of my popularity; but this I cannot do -without knowing whether Mr. Wordsworth will transmit to me the two -finishing Essays on Epitaphs.[87] It is, I know and feel, a very delicate -business; yet I wish Southey would immediately write to Wordsworth and -urge him to send them by the coach, either to J. J. Morgan, Esq., 71, -Berners Street, or to Messrs. Gale and Curtis, Booksellers, Paternoster -Row, with as little delay as possible, or if he decline it, that Southey -should apprize me as soon as possible. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -The Morgans desire to be kindly remembered, and Charlotte Brent (tell -Derwent) hopes he has not forgot his old playfellow. - - -CLXXXVII. TO CHARLES LAMB. - -May 2, 1812. - -MY DEAR CHARLES,--I should almost deserve what I have suffered, if I -refused even to put my life in hazard in defence of my own honour and -veracity, and in satisfaction of the honour of a friend. I say _honour_, -in the latter instance, _singly_, because I never felt as a matter of -serious complaint, _what_ was stated to have been said (for this, though -painfully aggravated, was yet substantially true)--but _by_ WHOM it was -said, and _to_ whom, and _how_ and _when_. Grievously unseasonable -therefore as it is, that I should again be overtaken and hurried back by -the surge, just as I had begun to feel the firm ground under my feet--just -as I had flattered myself, and given reason to my hospitable friends to -flatter themselves, that I had regained tranquillity, and had become quite -myself--at the time, too, when every thought should be given to my -lectures, on the success or failure of my efforts in which no small part -of my reputation and future prospects will depend--yet if Wordsworth, upon -reflection, adheres to the plan proposed, I will not draw back. It is -right, however, that I should state one or two things. First, that it has -been my constant desire that evil should not propagate evil--or the -unhappy accident become the means of _spreading_ dissension. (2) That I -never quarrelled with Mr. Montagu--say rather, for that is the real truth, -that Mr. Montagu never was, or appeared to be, a man with whom I could, -without self-contempt, allow myself to quarrel--and lastly, that in the -present business there are but three possible cases--either (1) Mr. -Wordsworth said what I solemnly aver that I most distinctly recollect Mr. -Montagu's representing him as having said, and which _I_ understood, not -merely as great unkindness and even cruelty, but as an intentional means -of putting an end to our long friendship, or to the terms at least, under -which it had for so long a period subsisted--or (2), Mr. Montagu has -grossly misrepresented Wordsworth, and most cruelly and wantonly injured -me--or (3), I have wantonly invented and deliberately persevered in -atrocious falsehoods, which place me in the same relation to Mr. Montagu -as (in the second case) Mr. Montagu would stand in to me. If, therefore, -Mr. Montagu declares to my face that he did not say what I solemnly aver -that he did--what must be the consequence, unless I am a more abject -coward than I have hitherto suspected, I need not say. Be the consequences -what they may, however, I will not shrink from doing my duty; but -previously to the meeting I should very much wish to transmit to -Wordsworth a statement which I long ago began, with the intention of -sending it to Mrs. Wordsworth's sister,--but desisted in consequence of -understanding that she had already decided the matter against me. My -reason for wishing this is that I think it right that Wordsworth should -know, and have the means of ascertaining, some conversations which yet I -could not publicly bring forward without hazarding great disquiet in a -family known (though slightly) to Wordsworth--(2) Because common humanity -would embarrass me in stating before a man what I and others think of his -wife--and lastly, certain other points which my own delicacy and that due -to Wordsworth himself and his family, preclude from being talked of. For -Wordsworth ought not to forget that, whatever influence old associations -may have on his mind respecting Montagu, yet that _I_ never respected or -liked him--for if I had ever in a _common_ degree done so, I should have -quarrelled with him long before we arrived in London. Yet all these facts -ought to be known--because supposing Montagu to affirm what I am led to -suppose he has--then nothing remains but the comparative probability of -our two accounts, and for this the state of my feelings towards Wordsworth -and his family, my opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Montagu, and my previous -intention not to lodge with them in town, are important documents as far -as they do not rely on my own present assertions. Woe is me, that a -friendship of fifteen years should come to this! and such a friendship, in -which I call God Almighty to be my witness, as I ever thought it no more -than my duty, so did I ever feel a readiness to prefer him to myself, yea, -even if life and outward reputation itself had been the pledge required. -But this is now vain talking. Be it, however, remembered that I have never -wandered beyond the one single complaint, that I had been cruelly and -unkindly treated--that I made no charge against my friend's veracity, even -in respect to his charges against me--that I have explained the -circumstance to those only who had already more or less perfectly become -acquainted with our difference, or were certain to hear of it from others, -and that except on this one point, no word of reproach, or even of -subtraction from his good name, as a good man, or from his merits as a -great man, ever escaped me. May God bless you, my dear Charles. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXXVIII. TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - -71, Berners Street. Monday, May 4, 1812. - -I will divide my statement, which I will endeavour to send you to-morrow, -into two parts, in separate letters. The latter, commencing from the -Sunday night, 28 October, 1810, that is, that on which the communication -was made to me, and which will contain my solemn avowal of what was said -by Mr. and Mrs. Montagu, you will make what use of you please--but the -former I write to _you_, and in _confidence_--yet only as far as to your -own heart it shall appear evident, that in desiring it I am actuated by no -wish to shrink personally from any test, not involving an acknowledgement -of my own degradation, and so become a false witness against myself, but -only by delicacy towards the feelings of others, and the dread of -spreading the curse of dissension. But, Wordsworth! the very message you -sent by Lamb and which _Lamb_ did not deliver to me from the anxiety not -to add fuel to the flame, sufficiently proves what I had learnt on my -first arrival at Keswick, and which alone prevented my going to -Grasmere--namely, that you had prejudged the case. As soon as I was -informed that you had denied having used certain expressions, I did not -hesitate a moment (nor was it in my power to do so) to give you my fullest -faith, and approve to my own consciousness the truth of my declaration, -that I should have felt it as a blessing, though my life had the same -instant been hazarded as the pledge, could I with firm conviction have -given Montagu the lie, at the conclusion of his story, even as, at the -very first sentence, I exclaimed--"Impossible! It is impossible!" The -expressions denied were indeed only the most offensive part to the -feelings--but at the same time I learnt that you did not hesitate -instantly to express your conviction that Montagu never said those words -and that I had invented them--or (to use your own words) "had forgotten -myself." Grievously indeed, if I know aught of my nature, must I have -forgotten both myself and common honesty, could I have been villain enough -to have invented and persevered in such atrocious falsehoods. Your message -was that "if I declined an explanation, you begged I would no longer -continue to talk about the affair." When, Wordsworth, did I ever decline -an explanation? From you I expected one, and had a right to expect it--for -let Montagu have added what he may, still that which remained was most -unkind and what I had little deserved from you, who might by a single -question have learnt from me that I never made up my mind to lodge with -Montagu and had tacitly acquiesced in it at Keswick to tranquillise Mrs. -Coleridge, to whom Mrs. Montagu had made the earnest professions of -watching and nursing me, and for whom this and her extreme repugnance to -my original, and much wiser, resolution of going to Edinburgh and placing -myself in the house, and under the constant eye, of some medical man, were -the sole grounds of her assent that I should leave the North at all. Yet -at least a score of times have I begun to write a detailed account, to -Wales[88] and afterwards to Grasmere, and gave it up from excess of -agitation,--till finally I learnt that _all_ of your family had decided -against me unheard--_and that_ [you begged] _I would no longer talk about -it_. If, Wordsworth, you had but done me the common justice of asking -those with whom I have been most intimate and confidential since my first -arrival in Town in Oct., 1810, you would have received other negative or -positive proofs how little I needed the admonition or deserve the sarcasm. -Talk about it? O God! it _has_ been talked about! and that it had, was the -sole occasion of my disclosing it even to Mary Lamb, the first person who -heard of it from me and that not voluntarily--but that morning a friend -met me, and communicated what so agitated me that then having previously -meant to call at Lamb's I was compelled to do so from faintness and -universal trembling, in order to sit down. Even to her I did not intend to -mention it; but alarmed by the wildness and paleness of my countenance and -agitation I had no power to conceal, she entreated me to tell her what was -the matter. In the first attempt to speak, my feelings overpowered me; an -agony of weeping followed, and then, alarmed at my own imprudence and -conscious of the possible effect on her health and mind if I left her in -that state of suspense, I brought out convulsively some such words -as--"Wordsworth, Wordsworth has given me up. _He_ has no hope of me--I -have been an absolute nuisance[89] in his family"--and when long weeping -had relieved me, and I was able to relate the occurrence connectedly, she -can bear witness for me that, disgraceful as it was that I should be made -the topic of vulgar gossip, yet that "had the whole and ten times more -been proclaimed by a speaking-trumpet from the chimneys, I should have -smiled at it--or indulged indignation only as far as it excited me to -pleasurable activity--but that _you_ had said it, this and this only, was -the sting! the scorpion-tooth!" Mr. Morgan and afterwards his wife and her -sister were made acquainted with the whole case--and why? Not merely that -I owed it to their ardent friendship, which has continued to be mainly my -comfort and my only support, but because they had already heard of it, in -part--because a most intimate and dear friend of Mr. and Mrs. Montagu's -had urged Mr. Morgan to call at the Montagus in order to be put on his -guard against me. He came to me instantly, told me that I had enemies at -work against my character, and pressed me to leave the hotel and to come -home with him--with whom I have been ever since, with the exception of a -few intervals when, from the bitter consciousness of my own infirmities -and increasing irregularity of temper, I took lodgings, against his will, -and was always by his zealous friendship brought back again. If it be -allowed to call any one on earth Saviour, Morgan and his family have been -my Saviours, body and soul. For my moral will was, and I fear is, so -weakened relatively to my duties to myself, that I cannot act, as I ought -to do, except under the influencing knowledge of its effects on those I -love and believe myself loved by. To him likewise I explained the affair; -but neither from him or his family has one word ever escaped me concerning -it. Last autumn Mr. and Mrs. Southey came to town, and at Mr. Ray's at -Richmond, as we were walking alone in the garden, the subject was -introduced, and it became my duty to state the whole affair to them, even -as the means of transmitting it to you. With these exceptions I do not -remember ever to have made any one my confidant--though in two or three -instances I have alluded to the suspension of our familiar intercourse -without explanation, but even here only where I knew or fully believed the -persons to have already heard of it. Such was Mrs. Clarkson, who wrote to -me in consequence of one sentence in a letter to her; yet even to her I -entered into no detail, and disclosed nothing that was not necessary to my -own defence in not continuing my former correspondence. In short, the one -only thing which I have to blame in myself was that in my first letter to -Sir G. Beaumont I had concluded with a desponding remark allusive to the -breach between us, not in the slightest degree suspecting that he was -ignorant of it. In the letters, which followed, I was compelled to say -more (though I never detailed the words which had been uttered to me) in -consequence of Lady Beaumont's expressed apprehension and alarm lest in -the advertisement for my lectures the sentence "concerning the Living -Poets" contained an intention on my part to attack your literary merits. -The very thought, that I could be imagined capable of feeling -_vindictively_ toward you at all, much more of gratifying the passion in -so despicable as well as detestable manner, agitated me. I sent her -Ladyship the verses composed after your recitation of the great Poem at -Coleorton, and desired her to judge whether it was possible that a man, -who had written that poem, could be capable of such an act, and in a -letter to Sir G. B., anxious to remove from his mind the assumption that I -had been agitated by the disclosure of any till then unknown actions of -mine or parts of conduct, I endeavoured to impress him with the real truth -that not the facts disclosed, but the manner and time and the person by -whom and the person to whom they had been disclosed, formed the whole -ground of the breach. And writing in great agitation I once again used the -same words which had venially burst from me the moment Montagu had ended -his account. "And this is cruel! this is _base_!" I did not reflect on it -till it was irrevocable--and for that one word, the only word of positive -reproach that ever escaped from me, I feel sorrow--and assure you, that -there is no permanent feeling in my heart which corresponds to it. Talk -about it? Those who have seen me and been with me, day by day, for so many -many months could have told you, how anxiously every allusion to the -subject was avoided--and with abundant reason--for immediate and palpable -derangement of body as well as spirits regularly followed it. Besides, had -there not existed in your mind--let me rather say, if ever there had -existed any portion of esteem and regard for me since the autumn of 1810, -would it have been possible that your quick and powerful judgement could -have overlooked the gross improbability, that I should first invent and -then scatter abroad for talk at public tables the phrases which (Mr. -Robinson yesterday informed me) Mr. Sharon Turner was indelicate enough to -trumpet abroad at Longman's table? I at least will call on Mr. Sharon and -demand his authority. It is my full conviction, that in no one of the -hundred tables at which any _particulars_ of our breach have been -mentioned, could the authority be traced back to those who had received -the account from myself. - -It seemed unnatural to me, nay, it was unnatural to me to write to you or -to any of your family with a cold exclusion of the feelings which almost -overpower me even at this moment, and I therefore write this preparatory -letter to disburthen my heart, as it were, before I sit down to detail my -recollections simply, and unmixed with the anguish which, spite of my best -efforts, accompany them. - -But one thing more, the last complaint that you will hear from me, -perhaps. When without my knowledge dear Mary Lamb, just then on the very -verge of a relapse, wrote to Grasmere, was it kind or even humane to have -returned such an answer, as Lamb deemed it unadvisable to shew me; but -which I learnt from the only other person, who saw the answer, amounted in -substance to a sneer on my reported high spirits and my wearing powder? -When and to whom did I ever make a merit of my sufferings? Is it -consistent _now_ to charge me with going about complaining to everybody, -and _now_ with my high spirits? Was I to carry a gloomy face into every -society? or ought I not rather to be grateful that in the natural activity -of my intellect God had given me a counteracting principle to the -intensity of my feelings, and a means of escaping from a part of the -pressure? But for this I had been driven mad, and yet for how many months -was there a continual brooding and going on of the one gnawing -recollection behind the curtain of my outward being, even when I was most -exerting myself, and exerting myself more in order the more to benumb it! -I might have truly said with Desdemona:-- - - "I am not merry, but I do beguile - The Thing I am, by seeming otherwise." - -And as to the powder, it was first put in to prevent my taking cold after -my hair had been thinned, and I was advised to continue it till I became -wholly grey, as in its then state it looked as if I had dirty powder in my -hair, and even when known to be only the everywhere-mixed-grey, yet -contrasting with a face even younger than my real age it gave a queer and -contradictory character to my whole appearance. Whatever be the result of -this long-delayed explanation, I have loved you and yours too long and too -deeply to have it in my own power to cease to do so. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CLXXXIX. TO DANIEL STUART. - -May 8, 1812. - -MY DEAR STUART,--I send you seven or eight tickets,[90] entreating you, if -pre-engagements or your health does not preclude it, to bring a group with -you; as many ladies as possible; but gentlemen if you cannot muster -ladies--for else I shall not only have been left in the lurch as to the -actual receipts by my great patrons (the five hundred half-promised are -likely to shrink below fifty) but shall absolutely make a ridiculous -appearance. The tickets are transferable. If you can find occasion for -more, pray send for them to me, as (what it really will be) a favour done -to myself. - -I am anxious to see you, and to learn how far Bath has improved or (to use -a fashionable slang phrase) disimproved your health. - -Sir James and Lady Mackintosh are I hear at Bath Hotel, Jermyn Street. Do -you think it will be taken amiss if I enclosed two or three tickets and -cards with my respectful congratulations on his safe return.[91] I abhor -the doing anything that could be even interpreted into servility, and yet -feel increasingly the necessity of not neglecting the courtesies of -life.... - -God bless you, my dear sir, and your obliged and affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. Mr. Morgan has left his card for you. - - -CXC. TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - - 71, Berners Street, - Monday afternoon, 3 o'clock, May 11, 1812. - -MY DEAR WORDSWORTH,--I declare before God Almighty that at no time, even -in my sorest affliction, did even the _possibility_ occur to me of ever -doubting your word. I never ceased for a moment to have faith in you, to -love and revere you; though I was unable to explain an unkindness, which -seemed anomalous in your character. Doubtless it would have been better, -wiser, and more worthy of my relation to you, had I immediately written to -you a full account of what had happened--especially as the person's -language concerning your family was such as nothing but the wild general -counter-panegyric of the same person almost in the same breath of -yourself--as a converser, etc.,--could have justified me in not resenting -to the uttermost....[92] All these, added to what I mentioned in my -letter to you, may not justify, but yet must palliate, the _only_ offence -I ever committed against you in deed or word or thought--that is, the not -writing to you and trusting instead to our common friends. Since I left -you my pocket books have been my only full confidants,[93]--and though -instructed by prudence to write so as to be intelligible to no being on -earth but yourself and your family, they for eighteen months together -would furnish proof that in anguish or induration I yet never ceased both -to _honour_ and love you. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -I need not say, of course, that your presence at the Lectures, or anywhere -else, will be gratifying to me. - - -CXCI. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - -[May 12, 1812.] - -MY DEAR SOUTHEY,--The awful event of yester-afternoon has forced me to -defer my Lectures to Tuesday, the 19th, by advice of all my patrons. The -same thought struck us all at the same moment, so that our letters might -be said to meet each other. I write now to urge you, if it be in your -power, to give one day or two of your time to write something in your -impressive way on that theme which no one I meet seems to feel as they -ought to do,--which, I find scarcely any but ourselves estimate according -to its true gigantic magnitude--I mean the sinking down of Jacobinism -below the middle and tolerably educated classes into the readers and -all-swallowing auditors in tap-rooms, etc.; and the [political sentiments -in the] "Statesman," "Examiner," etc. I have ascertained that throughout -the great manufacturing counties, Whitbread's, Burdett's, and Waithman's -speeches and the leading articles of the "Statesman" and "Examiner" are -printed in ballad [shape] and sold at a halfpenny or a penny each. I was -turned numb, and then sick, and then into a convulsive state of weeping on -the first tidings--just as if Perceval[94] had been my near and personal -friend. But good God! the atrocious sentiments universal among the -populace, and even the lower order of householders. On my return from the -"Courier," where I had been to offer my services if I could do anything -for them on this occasion, I was faint from the heat and much walking, and -took that opportunity of going into the tap-room of a large public house -frequented about one o'clock by the lower orders. It was really shocking, -nothing but exultation! Burdett's health drank with a clatter of pots and -a sentiment given to at least fifty men and women--"May Burdett soon be -the man to have sway over us!" These were the very words. "This is but the -beginning." "More of these damned scoundrels must go the same way, and -then poor people may live." "Every man might maintain his family decent -and comfortable, if the money were not picked out of our pockets by these -damned placemen." "God is above the devil, _I_ say, and down to Hell with -him and all his brood, the Ministers, men of Parliament fellows." "They -won't hear Burdett; no! he is a Christian man and speaks for the poor," -etc., etc. I do not think I have altered a word. - -My love to Sara, and I have received everything right. The plate will go -as desired, and among it a present to Sariola and Edith from good old Mr. -Brent, who had great delight in hearing them talked of. It was wholly the -old gentleman's own thought. Bless them both! - -The affair between Wordsworth and me seems settled, much against my first -expectation from the message I received from him and his refusal to open a -letter from me. I have not yet seen him, but an explanation has taken -place. I sent by Robinson an attested, avowed statement of what Mr. and -Mrs. Montagu told me, and Wordsworth has sent me an unequivocal denial of -the whole _in spirit_ and of the most offensive passages in letter as well -as spirit, and I instantly informed him that were ten thousand Montagus to -swear against it, I should take his word, not ostensibly only, but with -inward faith! - -To-morrow I will write out the passage from "Apuleius," and send the -letter to Rickman. It is seldom that want of leisure can be fairly stated -as an excuse for not writing; but really for the last ten days I can -honestly do it, if you will but allow a due portion to agitated feelings. -The subscription is languid indeed compared with the expectations. Sir T. -Bernard almost pledged himself for my success. However, he has done his -best, and so has Lady Beaumont, who herself procured me near thirty names. -I should have done better by myself for the present, but in the future -perhaps it will be better as it is. - - -CXCII. TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.[95] - - 71, Berners Street, - Monday noon, December 7, 1812. - -Write? My dear Friend! Oh that it were in my power to be with you myself -instead of my letter. The Lectures I could give up; but the rehearsal of -my Play commences this week, and upon this depends my best hopes of -leaving town after Christmas, and living among you as long as I live. -Strange, strange are the coincidences of things! Yesterday Martha Fricker -dined here, and after tea I had asked question after question respecting -your children, first one, then the other; but, more than all, concerning -Thomas, till at length Mrs. Morgan said, "What ails you, Coleridge? Why -don't you talk about Hartley, Derwent, and Sara?" And not two hours ago -(for the whole family were late from bed) I was asked what was the matter -with my eyes? I told the fact, that I had awoke three times during the -night and morning, and at each time found my face and part of the pillow -wet with tears. "Were you dreaming of the Wordsworths?" she asked.--"Of -the children?" I said, "No! not so much of them, but of Mrs. W. and Miss -Hutchinson, and yourself and sister." - -Mrs. Morgan and her sister are come in, and I have been relieved by tears. -The sharp, sharp pang at the heart needed it, when they reminded me of my -words the very yester-night: "It is not possible that I should do -otherwise than love Wordsworth's children, all of them; but Tom is nearest -my heart--I so often have him before my eyes, sitting on the little stool -by my side, while I was writing my essays; and how quiet and happy the -affectionate little fellow would be if he could but touch one, and now and -then be looked at." - -O dearest friend! what comfort can I afford you? What comfort ought I not -to afford, who have given you so much pain? Sympathy deep, of my whole -being.... In grief, and in joy, in the anguish of perplexity, and in the -fulness and overflow of confidence, it has been ever what it is! There is -a sense of the word, Love, in which I never felt it but to you and one of -your household! I am distant from you some hundred miles, but glad I am -that I am no longer distant in spirit, and have faith, that as it has -happened but once, so it never can happen again. An awful truth it seems -to me, and prophetic of our future, as well as declarative of our present -_real_ nature, that one mere thought, one feeling of suspicion, jealousy, -or resentment can remove two human beings farther from each other than -winds or seas can separate their bodies. - -The words "_religious_ fortitude" occasion me to add that my faith in our -progressive nature, and in all the doctrinal facts of Christianity, is -become habitual in my understanding, no less than in my feelings. More -cheering illustrations of our survival I have never received, than from -the recent study of the instincts of animals, their clear heterogeneity -from the reason and moral essence of man and yet the beautiful analogy. -Especially, on the death of children, and of the _mind_ in childhood, -altogether, many thoughts have accumulated, from which I hope to derive -consolation from that most oppressive feeling which hurries in upon the -first anguish of such tidings as I have received; the sense of -uncertainty, the fear of enjoyment, the pale and deathy gleam thrown over -the countenances of the living, whom we love.... But this is bad -comforting. Your own virtues, your own love itself, must give it. Mr. De -Quincey has left town, and will by this time have arrived at Grasmere. On -Sunday last I gave him a letter for you; but he (I have heard) did not -leave town till Thursday night, by what accidents prevented I know not. In -the oppression of spirits under which I wrote that letter, I did not make -it clear that it was only Mr. Josiah's half of the annuity[96] that was -withdrawn from me. My answer, of course, breathed nothing but gratitude -for the past. - -I will write in a few days again to you. To-morrow is my lecture night, -"On the _human_ causes of the spread of Christianity, and its effects -after the establishment of Christendom." Dear Mary! dear Dorothy! dearest -Sara! Oh, be assured, no thought relative to myself has half the influence -in inspiring the wish and effort to _appear_ and to _act_ what I always in -my will and heart have been, as the knowledge that few things could more -console you than to see me healthy, and worthy of myself! Again and again, -my dearest Wordsworth!!! I am affectionately and truly yours, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CXCIII. TO HIS WIFE. - -Wednesday afternoon [January 20,] 18[13]. - -MY DEAR SARA,--_Hitherto_ the "Remorse" has met with _unexampled -applause_, but whether it will _continue_ to fill the _house_, that is -quite another question, and of this, my friends are, in my opinion, far, -far too sanguine. I have disposed not of the copyright but of edition by -edition to Mr. Pople, on terms advantageous to me as an author and -honourable to him as a publisher. The expenses of printing and paper (at -the trade-price) advertising, etc., are to be deducted from the total -produce, and the net profits to be divided into three equal parts, of -which Pople is to have one, and I the other two. And at any future time, I -may publish it in any volume of my poems _collectively_. Mr. Arnold (the -manager) has just left me. He called to urge me to exert myself a little -with regard to the daily press, and brought with him "The Times"[97] of -Monday as a specimen of the _infernal lies_ of which a newspaper scribe -can be capable. Not only is not _one_ sentence in it true; but every one -is in the direct face of a palpable truth. The misrepresentations must -have been wilful. I must now, therefore, write to "The Times," and if -Walter refuses to insert, I will then, recording the circumstance, publish -it in the "Morning Post," "Morning Chronicle," and "The Courier." The -dirty malice of Antony Pasquin[98] in the "Morning Herald" is below -notice. This, however, will explain to you why the shortness of this -letter, the main business of which is to desire you to draw upon Brent and -Co., No. 103 Bishopsgate Street Within, for an hundred pounds, at a -month's date from the drawing, or, if that be objected to, for three -weeks, only let me know which. In the course of a month I have no -hesitation in promising you another hundred, and I hope likewise before -Midsummer, if God grant me life, to repay you whatever you have expended -for the children. - -My wishes and purposes concerning Hartley and Derwent I will communicate -as soon as this bustle and endless rat-a-tat-tat at our door is somewhat -over. I concluded my Lectures last night most triumphantly, with loud, -long, and enthusiastic applauses at my entrance, and ditto in yet fuller -chorus as, and for some minutes after I had retired. It was lucky that (as -I never once thought of the Lecture till I had entered the Lecture Box), -the two last were the most impressive and really the best. I suppose that -no dramatic author ever had so large a number of unsolicited, unknown yet -_predetermined_ plauditors in the theatre, as I had on Saturday night. One -of the malignant papers asserted that I had collected all the saints from -Mile End turnpike to Tyburn Bar. With so many warm friends, it is -impossible, in the present state of human nature, that I should not have -many unprovoked and unknown enemies. You will have heard that on my -entering the box on Saturday night, I was discovered by the pit, and that -they all turned their faces towards our box, and gave a treble cheer of -claps. - -I mention these things because it will please Southey to hear that there -is a large number of persons in London who hail with enthusiasm my -prospect of the stage's being purified and rendered classical. My success, -if I succeed (of which I assure you I entertain doubts in my opinion well -founded, both from the want of a prominent actor for Ordonio, and from the -want of vulgar pathos in the play itself--nay, there is not enough even of -_true_ dramatic pathos), but if I succeed, I succeed for others as well as -myself.... - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I _pray you_, my dear Sara! do take on yourself the charge of -instantly sending off by the waggon Mr. Sotheby's folio edition of all -Petrarch's Works, which I left at Grasmere. (I am ashamed to meet Sotheby -till I have returned it.) At the same time my quarto MS. Book with the -German Musical Play in it,[99] and the two folio volumes of the Greek -Poets may go. For I want them hourly and I must try to imitate W. Scott in -making hay while the sun shines. - -Kisses and heartfelt loves for my sweet Sara, and scarce less for dear -little Herbert and Edith. - - -CXCIV. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - -71, Berners Street, Tuesday, February 8, 1813. - -MY DEAR SOUTHEY,--It is seldom that a man can with _literal truth_ -apologise for delay in writing; but for the last three weeks I have had -more upon my hands and spirits than my health was equal to. - -The first copy I can procure of the second edition (of the play) I will do -my best to get franked to you. You will, I hope, think it much improved as -a poem. Dr. Bell, who is all kindness and goodness, came to me in no small -bustle this morning in consequence of "a censure passed on the 'Remorse' -by a man of great talents, both in prose and verse, who was impartial, and -thought highly of the work on the whole." What was it, think you? There -were many unequal lines in the Play, but which he did not choose to -specify. Dr. Bell would not mention the critic's name, but was very -earnest with me to procure some indifferent person of good sense to read -it over, by way of spectacles to an author's own dim judgement. Soon after -he left me I discovered that the critic was Gifford, who had said -good-naturedly that I ought to be whipt for leaving so many weak and -slovenly lines in so fine a poem. What the lines were _he_ would not say -and _I_ do not care. Inequalities have every poem, even an Epic--much -more a Dramatic Poem must have and ought to have. The question is, are -they in their own place _dissonances_? If so I am the last man to stickle -for them, who am nicknamed in the Green Room the "anomalous author," from -my utter indifference or prompt facility in sanctioning every omission -that was suggested. That paragraph in the "Quarterly Review"[100] -respecting me, as ridiculed in "Rejected Addresses," was surely unworthy -of a man of sense like Gifford. What reason could _he_ have to suppose me -a man so childishly irritable as to be provoked by a trifle so -contemptible? If he had, how could he think it a _parody_ at all? But the -noise which the "Rejected Addresses" made, the notice taken of Smith the -author by Lord Holland, Byron, etc., give a melancholy confirmation of my -assertion in "The Friend" that "we worship the vilest reptile if only the -brainless head be expiated by the sting of personal malignity in the -tail." I wish I could procure for you the "Examiner" and Drakard's London -Paper. They were forced to affect admiration of the Tragedy, but yet abuse -me they must, and so comes the old infamous _crambe bis millies cocta_ of -the "sentimentalities, puerilities, whinings, and meannesses, both of -style and thought," in my former writings, but without (which is worth -notice both in these gentlemen and in all our former Zoili), without one -single quotation or reference in proof or exemplification. No wonder! for -excepting the "Three Graves," which was announced as not meant for poetry, -and the poem on the Tethered Ass, with the motto _Sermoni propriora_,[101] -and which, like your "Dancing Bear," might be called a ludicro-splenetic -copy of verses, with the diction purposely appropriate, they might (as at -the first appearance of my poems they did) find, indeed, all the opposite -vices. But if it had not been for the _Preface_ to W.'s "Lyrical Ballads," -they would never themselves have dreamt of affected simplicity and -meanness of thought and diction. This slang has gone on for fourteen or -fifteen years against us, and really deserves to be exposed. As far as my -judgement goes, the two best qualities of the tragedy are, first, the -simplicity and unity of the plot, in respect of that which, of all the -unities, is the only one founded on good sense--the presence of a one -all-pervading, all-combining Principle. By REMORSE I mean the anguish and -disquietude arising from the self-contradiction introduced into the soul -by guilt, a feeling which is good or bad according as the will makes use -of it. This is expressed in the lines chosen as the motto:-- - - Remorse is as the heart in which it grows: - If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews - Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, - It is a poison tree that, pierced to the inmost, - Weeps only tears of poison! - Act i. sc. 1. - -And Remorse is everywhere distinguished from virtuous penitence. To excite -a sanative remorse Alvar returns, the Passion is put in motion at -Ordonio's first entrance by the appearance of Isidore's wife, etc.; it is -carried still higher by the narration of Isidore, Act ii. sc. 1; higher -still by the interview with the supposed wizard; and to its acme by the -Incantation Scene and Picture. Now, then, we are to see its effects and to -exemplify the second part of the motto, "but if proud and gloomy, It is a -poison tree," etc. Ordonio, too proud to look steadily into himself, -catches a false scent, plans the murder of Isidore and the poisoning of -the Sorcerer, perpetrates the one, and, attempting the other, is driven by -Remorse and the discovery of Alvar to a temporary distraction; and, -finally, falling a victim to the only crime that had been realized, by the -hand of Alhadra, breathes his last in a pang of pride: "O couldst thou -forget me!" As from a circumference to a centre, every ray in the tragedy -converges to Ordonio. Spite of wretched acting, the passage told -wonderfully in which, as in a struggle between two unequal Panathlists or -wrestlers, the weaker had for a moment got uppermost, and Ordonio, with -unfeigned love, and genuine repentance, says, "I will kneel to thee, my -Brother! Forgive me, Alvar!" till the Pride, like the bottom-swell on our -lake, gusts up again in "_Curse_ me with forgiveness!" The second good -quality is, I think, the variety of metres according as the speeches are -merely transitive, or narrative, or passionate, or (as in the Incantation) -deliberate and formal poetry. It is true they are all, or almost all, -Iambic blank verse, but under that form there are five or six perfectly -distinct metres. As to the outcry that the "Remorse" is not pathetic -(meaning such pathos as convulses in "Isabella" or "The Gamester") the -answer is easy. True! the poet never meant that it should be. It is as -pathetic as the "Hamlet" or the "Julius Cæsar." He woo'd the feelings of -the audience, as my wretched epilogue said:-- - - With no TOO _real_ Woes that make you groan - (At home-bred, kindred grief, perhaps your own), - Yet with no image compensate the mind, - Nor leave one joy for memory behind. - -As to my thefts from the "Wallenstein," they came on compulsion from the -necessity of haste, and do not lie on my conscience, being partly thefts -from myself, and because I gave Schiller twenty for one I have taken, and -in the mean time I hope they will lie snug. "The obscurest Haunt of all -our mountains,"[102] I did not recognize as Wordsworth till after the play -was all printed. I must write again to-morrow on other subjects. - -The House was crowded again last night, and the Manager told me that they -lost £200 by suspending it on [the] Saturday night that Jack Bannister -came out. - - (No signature.) - - -CXCV. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -February 13, 1813. - -DEAR POOLE,--Love so deep and so domesticated with the whole being, as -mine was to you, can never cease _to be_. To quote the best and sweetest -lines I ever wrote:[103]-- - - Alas! they had been Friends in Youth! - But whisp'ring Tongues can poison Truth; - And Constancy lives in Realms above; - And Life is thorny; and Youth is vain; - And to be wroth with one we love - Doth work, like Madness, in the Brain! - And so it chanced (as I divine) - With Roland and Sir Leoline. - Each spake words of high Disdain - And Insult to his heart's best Brother: - They parted--ne'er to meet again! - But never either found another - To free the hollow Heart from Paining-- - They stood aloof, the Scars remaining, - Like Cliffs, which had been rent asunder, - A dreary Sea now flows between!-- - But neither Frost, nor Heat, nor Thunder, - Shall wholly do away, I ween, - The marks of that which once hath been! - -Stung as I have been with your unkindness to me, in my sore adversity, yet -the receipt of your two heart-engendered lines was sweeter than an -unexpected strain of sweetest music, or, in humbler phrase, it was the -only pleasurable sensation which the _success of the_ "Remorse" has given -me. I have read of, or perhaps only imagined, a punishment in Arabia, in -which the culprit was so bricked up as to be unable to turn his eyes to -the right or the left, while in front was placed a high heap of barren -sand glittering under the vertical sun. Some slight analogue of this, I -have myself suffered from the mere unusualness of having my attention -forcibly directed to a subject which permitted neither sequence of -imagery, or series of reasoning. No grocer's apprentice, after his first -month's permitted riot, was ever sicker of figs and raisins than I of -hearing about the "Remorse." The endless rat-a-tat-tat at our -black-and-blue-bruised door, and my three master-fiends, proof sheets, -letters (for I have a raging epistolophobia), and worse than -these--invitations to large dinners, which I cannot refuse without offence -and imputation of pride, or accept without disturbance of temper the day -before, and a sick, aching stomach for two days after, so that my spirits -quite sink under it. - -From what I myself saw, and from what an intelligent friend, more -solicitous about it than myself, has told me, the "Remorse" has succeeded -in spite of bad scenes, execrable acting, and newspaper calumny. In my -compliments to the actors, I endeavoured (such is the lot of this world, -in which our best qualities tilt against each other, _ex. gr._, our good -nature against our veracity) to make a lie edge round the truth as nearly -as possible. Poor Rae (why poor? for Ordonio has almost made his fortune) -did the best in his power, and is a good man ... a moral and affectionate -husband and father. But nature has denied him person and all volume and -depth of voice; so that the blundering coxcomb Elliston, by mere dint of -voice and self-conceit, out-dazzled him. It has been a good thing for the -theatre. They will get £8,000 or £10,000, and I shall get more than all my -literary labours put together; nay, thrice as much, subtracting my heavy -losses in the "Watchman" and "Friend,"--£400 including the copyright. - -You will have heard that, previous to the acceptance of "Remorse," Mr. -Jos. Wedgwood had withdrawn from his share of the annuity![104] Well, yes, -it is well!--for I can now be _sure_ that I loved him, revered him, and -was grateful to him from no selfish feeling. For equally (and may these -words be my final condemnation at the last awful day, if I speak not the -whole truth), equally do I at this moment love him, and with the same -reverential gratitude! To Mr. Thomas Wedgwood I felt, doubtless, love; but -it was mingled with fear, and constant apprehension of his too exquisite -taste in morals. But Josiah! Oh, I ever did, and ever shall, love him, as -a being so beautifully balanced in mind and heart deserves to be! - -'Tis well, too, because it has given me the strongest impulse, the most -imperious motive I have experienced, to _prove_ to him that his past -munificence has not been _wasted_! - -You perhaps may likewise have heard (_in the Whispering Gallery of the -World_) of the year-long difference between me and Wordsworth (compared -with the sufferings of which all the former afflictions of my life were -less than flea-bites), occasioned (in _great part_) by the wicked folly of -the arch-fool Montagu. - -A reconciliation has taken place, but the _feeling_, which I had previous -to that moment, when the (three-fourth) calumny burst, like a thunderstorm -from a blue sky, on my soul, after fifteen years of such religious, almost -superstitious idolatry and self-sacrifice. Oh, no! no! that, I fear, never -can return. All outward actions, all inward wishes, all thoughts and -admirations will be the same--_are_ the same, but--aye, there remains an -immedicable _But_. Had W. said (what he acknowledges to have said) to you, -I should have thought it unkind, and have had a right to say, "Why, why am -I, whose whole being has been like a glass beehive before you for five -years, why do I hear this from a _third_ person for the first time?" But -to such ... as Montagu! just when W. himself had forewarned me! Oh! it cut -me to the heart's core. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A MELANCHOLY EXILE - -1813-1815 - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A MELANCHOLY EXILE - -1813-1815 - - -CXCVI. TO DANIEL STUART. - -September 25, 1813. - -DEAR STUART,--I forgot to ask you by what address a letter would best -reach you! Whether Kilburn House, Kilburn? I shall therefore send it, or -leave it at the "Courier" office. I found Southey so _chevaux-de-frized_ -and pallisadoed by preëngagements that I could not reach at him till -Sunday sennight, that is, Sunday, October 3, when, if convenient, we -should be happy to wait on you. Southey will be in town till Monday -evening, and you have his brother's address, should you wish to write to -him (Dr. Southey,[105] 28, Little Queen Anne Street, Cavendish Square). - -A curious paragraph in the "Morning Chronicle" of this morning, asserting -with its usual _comfortable_ anti-patriotism the determination of the -Emperor of Austria to persevere in the terms[106] offered to his -son-in-law, in his frenzy of power, even though he should be beaten to the -dust. Methinks there ought to be good authority before a journalist dares -prophesy folly and knavery in union of our Imperial Ally. An excellent -article ought to be written on this subject. In the same paper there is -what I should have called a masterly essay on the causes of the downfall -of the Comic Drama, if I was not perplexed by the distinct recollection of -having _conversed_ the greater part of it at Lamb's. I wish you would read -it, and tell me what you think; for I seem to remember a conversation with -you in which you asserted the very contrary; that comic genius was the -thing wanting, and not comic subjects--that the watering places, or rather -the characters presented at them, had never been adequately managed, etc. - -Might I request you to present my best respects to Mrs. Stuart as those of -an old acquaintance of yours, and, as far as I am myself conscious of, at -all times with hearty affection, your sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. There are some half dozen more books of mine left at the "Courier" -office, Ben Jonson and sundry German volumes. As I am compelled to sell my -library,[107] you would oblige me by ordering the porter to take them to -19, London Street, Fitzroy Square; whom I will remunerate for his trouble. -I should not take this liberty, but that I had in vain written to Mr. -Street, requesting the same favour, which in his hurry of business I do -not wonder that he forgot. - - -CXCVII. TO JOSEPH COTTLE.[108] - -April 26, 1814. - -You have poured oil in the raw and festering wound of an old friend's -conscience, Cottle! but it is _oil of vitriol_! I but barely glanced at -the middle of the first page of your letter, and have seen no more of -it--not from resentment (God forbid!), but from the state of my bodily and -mental sufferings, that scarcely permitted human fortitude to let in a new -visitor of affliction. - -[Illustration] - -The object of my present reply is to state the case just as it is. First, -that for ten years the anguish of my spirit has been indescribable, the -sense of my danger staring, but the consciousness of my GUILT worse, far -worse than all. I have prayed, with drops of agony on my brow, trembling -not only before the justice of my Maker, but even before the mercy of my -Redeemer. "I gave thee so many talents, what hast thou done with them?" -Secondly, overwhelmed as I am with a sense of my direful infirmity, I have -never attempted to disguise or conceal the cause. On the contrary, not -only to friends have I stated the whole case with tears and the very -bitterness of shame, but in two instances I have warned young men, mere -acquaintances, who had spoken of having taken laudanum, of the direful -consequences, by an awful exposition of the tremendous effects on myself. - -Thirdly, though before God I cannot lift up my eyelids, and only do not -despair of His mercy, because to despair would be adding crime to crime, -yet to my fellow-men I may say that I was seduced into the ACCURSED habit -ignorantly. I had been almost bed-ridden for many months with swellings in -my knees. In a medical journal, I unhappily met with an account of a cure -performed in a similar case (or what appeared to me so), by rubbing in of -laudanum, at the same time taking a given dose internally. It acted like a -charm, like a miracle! I recovered the use of my limbs, of my appetite, of -my spirits, and this continued for near a fortnight. At length the unusual -stimulus subsided, the complaint returned, the supposed remedy was -recurred to--but I cannot go through the dreary history. - -Suffice it to say, that effects were produced which acted on me by terror -and cowardice, of pain and sudden death, not (so help me God!) by any -temptation of pleasure, or expectation, or desire of exciting pleasurable -sensations. On the very contrary, Mrs. Morgan and her sister will bear -witness, so far as to say, that the longer I abstained the higher my -spirits were, the keener my enjoyment--till the moment, the direful -moment, arrived when my pulse began to fluctuate, my heart to palpitate, -and such a dreadful falling abroad, as it were, of my whole frame, such -intolerable restlessness, and incipient bewilderment, that in the last of -my several attempts to abandon the dire poison, I exclaimed in agony, -which I now repeat in seriousness and solemnity, "I am too poor to hazard -this." Had I but a few hundred pounds, but £200--half to send to Mrs. -Coleridge, and half to place myself in a private madhouse, where I could -procure nothing but what a physician thought proper, and where a medical -attendant could be constantly with me for two or three months (in less -than that time life or death would be determined), then there might be -hope. Now there is none!! O God! how willingly would I place myself under -Dr. Fox, in his establishment; for my case is a species of madness, only -that it is a derangement, an utter impotence of the volition, and not of -the intellectual faculties. You bid me rouse myself: go bid a man -paralytic in both arms, to rub them briskly together, and that will cure -him. "Alas!" he would reply, "that I cannot move my arms is my complaint -and my misery." - -May God bless you, and your affectionate, but most afflicted, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CXCVIII. TO THE SAME. - -Friday, May 27, 1814. - -MY DEAR COTTLE,--Gladness be with you, for your convalescence, and equally -so, at the hope which has sustained and tranquillised you through your -imminent peril. Far otherwise is, and hath been, my state; yet I too am -grateful; yet I cannot rejoice. I feel, with an intensity unfathomable by -words, my utter nothingness, impotence, and worthlessness, in and for -myself. I have learned what a sin is, against an infinite imperishable -being, such as is the soul of man! - -I have had more than a glimpse of what is meant by death and outer -darkness, and the worm that dieth not--and that all the _hell_ of the -reprobate is no more inconsistent with the love of God, than the blindness -of one who has occasioned loathsome and guilty diseases, to eat out his -eyes, is inconsistent with the light of the sun. But the consolations, at -least, the sensible sweetness of hope, I do not possess. On the contrary, -the temptation which I have constantly to fight up against is a fear, that -if _annihilation_ and the _possibility_ of _heaven_ were offered to my -choice, I should choose the former. - -This is, perhaps, in part, a constitutional idiosyncrasy, for when a mere -boy I wrote these lines:-- - - O, what a wonder seems the fear of death, - Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep, - Babes, children, youths, and men, - Night following night, for three-score years and ten![109] - -And in my early manhood, in lines descriptive of a gloomy solitude, I -disguised my own sensations in the following words:-- - - Here wisdom might abide, and here remorse! - Here, too, the woe-worn man, who, weak in soul, - And of this busy human heart aweary, - Worships the spirit of unconscious life - In tree or wild-flower. Gentle lunatic! - If so he might not wholly cease to BE, - He would far rather not be what he is; - But would be something that he knows not of, - In woods or waters, or among the rocks.[110] - -My main comfort, therefore, consists in what the divines call the faith of -adherence, and no spiritual effort appears to benefit me so much as the -one earnest, importunate, and often for hours, momently repeated prayers: -"I believe! Lord, help my unbelief! Give me faith, but as a mustard seed, -and I shall remove this mountain! Faith! faith! faith! I believe. Oh, give -me faith! Oh, for my Redeemer's sake, give me faith in my Redeemer." - -In all this I justify God, for I was accustomed to oppose the preaching of -the terrors of the gospel, and to represent it as debasing virtue by the -admixture of slavish selfishness. - -I now see that what is spiritual can only be spiritually apprehended. -Comprehended it cannot. - -Mr. Eden gave you a too flattering account of me. It is true, I am -restored as much beyond my expectations almost as my deserts; but I am -exceedingly weak. I need for myself solace and refocillation of animal -spirits, instead of being in a condition of offering it to others. Yet as -soon as I may see you, I will call upon you. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CXCIX. TO CHARLES MATHEWS. - -2, Queen's Square, Bristol, May 30, 1814. - -DEAR SIR,--Unusual as this liberty may be, yet as it is a friendly one, -you will pardon it, especially from one who has had already some -connection with the stage, and may have more. But I was so highly -gratified with my feast of this night, that I feel a sort of restless -impulse to tell you what I felt and thought. - -Imprimis, I grieved that you had such miserable materials to deal with as -Colman's Solomon Grundy,[111] a character which in and of itself (Mathews -and his Variations _ad libitum_ put out of the question) contains no one -element of genuine comedy, no, nor even of fun or drollery. The play is -assuredly the very sediment, the dregs of a noble cask of wine; for such -_was_, yes, in _many_ instances _was_ and has been, and in many more -_might_ have been, _Colman's_ dramatic genius. - -A genius Colman _is_ by _nature_. What he is _not_, or has not been, is -all of his own making. In my humble opinion, he possessed the elements of -dramatic power in a far higher degree than Sheridan: or which of the two, -think you, should pronounce with the deeper sigh of self-reproach, -"_Fuimus_ Troes! and what might we not have been?" - -But I leave this to proceed to the really astonishing effect of your -duplicate of Cook in Sir Archy McSarcasm.[112] To say that in some of -your higher notes your voice was rather _thinner_, rather less _substance_ -and _thick_ body than poor Cook's, would be merely to say that A. B. is -not exactly A. A. But, on the whole, it was almost _illusion_, and so very -excellent, that if I were intimate with you, I should get angry and abuse -you for not forming for yourself some _original_ and important character. -The man who could so impersonate Sir Archy McSarcasm might do _anything_ -in _profound_ Comedy (that is, that which gives us the passions of men and -their endless modifications and influences on thought, gestures, etc., -modified in their turn by circumstances of rank, relations, nationality, -etc., instead of mere transitory manners; in short, the inmost man -represented on the superficies, instead of the superficies merely -representing itself). But you will forgive a stranger for a suggestion? I -cannot but think that it would _answer_ for your still increasing fame if -you were either previously to, or as an occasional diversification of Sir -Archy, to study and give that one most incomparable monologue of Sir -Pertinax McSycophant,[113] where he gives his son the history of his rise -and progress in the world. Being in its essence a soliloquy with all the -advantages of a dialogue, it would be a most happy introduction to Sir -Archy McSarcasm, which, I doubt not, will call forth with good reason the -Covent Garden Manager's thanks to you next season. - -I once had the presumption to address this advice to an actor on the -London stage: "_Think_, in order that you may be able to _observe_! -_Observe_, in order that you may have materials to think upon! And -thirdly, keep awake ever the habit of instantly _embodying_ and -_realising_ the results of the two; but always _think_!" - -A great actor, comic or tragic, is not to be a mere copy, a _fac simile_, -or but an _imitation_, of Nature. Now an imitation differs from a copy in -this, that it of necessity implies and demands _difference_, whereas a -copy aims at _identity_. What a marble peach on a mantelpiece, that you -take up deluded and put down with pettish disgust, is, compared with a -fruit-piece of Vanhuyser's, even such is a mere _copy_ of nature compared -with a true histrionic _imitation_. A good actor is Pygmalion's Statue, a -work of exquisite _art_, animated and gifted with _motion_; but still -_art_, still a species of _poetry_. - -Not the least advantage which an actor gains by having secured a high -reputation is this, that those who sincerely admire him may dare tell him -the truth at times, and thus, if he have sensible friends, secure his -progressive improvement; in other words, keep him thinking. For without -thinking, nothing consummate can be effected. - -Accept this, dear sir, as it is meant, a small testimony of the high -gratification I have received from you and of the respectful and sincere -kind wishes with which I am - - Your obedient - S. T. COLERIDGE. - ----- MATHEWS, Esq., to be left at the Bristol Theatre. - - -CC. TO JOSIAH WADE. - -BRISTOL, June 26, 1814. - -DEAR SIR,--For I am unworthy to call any good man friend--much less you, -whose hospitality and love I have abused; accept, however, my intreaties -for your forgiveness, and for your prayers. - -Conceive a poor miserable wretch, who for many years has been attempting -to beat off pain, by a constant recurrence to the vice that reproduces it. -Conceive a spirit in hell, employed in tracing out for others the road to -that heaven, from which his crimes exclude him! In short, conceive -whatever is most wretched, helpless, and hopeless, and you will form as -tolerable a notion of my state, as it is possible for a good man to have. - -I used to think the text in St. James that "he who offended in one point, -offends in all," very harsh; but I now feel the awful, the tremendous -truth of it. In the one crime of OPIUM, what crime have I not made myself -guilty of!--Ingratitude to my Maker! and to my benefactors--injustice! -_and unnatural cruelty to my poor children!_--self-contempt for my -repeated promise--breach, nay, too often, actual falsehood! - -After my death, I earnestly entreat, that a full and unqualified narration -of my wretchedness, and of its guilty cause, may be made public, that at -least some little good may be effected by the direful example. - -May God Almighty bless you, and have mercy on your still affectionate, and -in his heart, grateful - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCI. TO JOHN MURRAY. - - Josiah Wade's, Esq., 2, Queen's Square, Bristol, - August 23, 1814. - -DEAR SIR,--I have heard, from my friend Mr. Charles Lamb, writing by -desire of Mr. Robinson, that you wish to have the justly-celebrated -"Faust"[114] of Goethe translated, and that some one or other of my -partial friends have induced you to consider me as the man most likely to -execute the work adequately, those excepted, of course, whose higher power -(established by the solid and satisfactory ordeal of the wide and rapid -sale of their works) it might seem profanation to employ in any other -manner than in the development of their own intellectual organisation. I -return my thanks to the recommender, whoever he be, and no less to you for -your flattering faith in the recommendation; and thinking, as I do, that -among many volumes of praiseworthy German poems, the "Louisa" of Voss, and -the "Faust" of Goethe, are the two, if not the only ones, that are -emphatically _original_ in their conception, and characteristic of a new -and peculiar sort of thinking and imagining, I should not be averse from -exerting my best efforts in an attempt to import whatever is importable of -either or of both into our own language. - -But let me not be suspected of a presumption of which I am not consciously -guilty, if I say that I feel two difficulties: one arising from long -disuse of versification, added to what _I_ know, better than the most -hostile critic could inform me, of my comparative weakness; and the other, -that _any_ work in Poetry strikes me with more than common awe, as -proposed for realization by myself, because from long habits of meditation -on language, as the symbolical medium of the connection of Thought with -Thought, and of Thought as affected and modified by Passion and Emotion, I -should spend days in avoiding what I deemed faults, though with the full -fore-knowledge that their admission would not have offended perhaps three -of all my readers, and might be deemed Beauties by 300--if so many there -were; and this not out of any respect for the Public (_i. e._ the persons -who might happen to purchase and look over the Book), but from a -hobby-horsical, superstitious regard to my own feelings and sense of duty. -Language is the Sacred Fire in this Temple of Humanity, and the Muses are -its especial and vestal Priestesses. Though I cannot prevent the vile -drugs and counterfeit Frankincense, which render its flame at once pitchy, -glowing, and unsteady, I would yet be no voluntary accomplice in the -Sacrilege. With the commencement of a PUBLIC, commences the degradation of -the GOOD and the BEAUTIFUL--both fade and retire before the accidentally -AGREEABLE. "Othello" becomes a hollow lip-worship; and the "CASTLE -SPECTRE" or any more peccant thing of Froth, Noise, and Impermanence, that -may have overbillowed it on the restless sea of curiosity, is the _true_ -Prayer of the Praise and Admiration. - -I thought it right to state to you these opinions of mine, that you might -know that I think the Translation of the "Faust" a task demanding (from -_me_, I mean) no ordinary efforts--and why? This--that it is painful, very -painful, and even odious to me, to attempt anything of a literary nature, -with any motive of _pecuniary_ advantage; but that I bow to the all-wise -Providence, which has made me a _poor_ man, and therefore compelled me by -other duties inspiring feelings, to bring _even my Intellect to the -Market_. And the finale is this. I should like to attempt the Translation. -If you will mention your terms, at once and irrevocably (for I am an idiot -at bargaining, and shrink from the very thought), I will return an answer -by the next Post, whether in my present circumstances, I can or cannot -undertake it. If I do, I will do it immediately; but I must have all -Goethe's works, which I cannot procure in Bristol; for to give the "Faust" -without a preliminary critical Essay would be worse than nothing, as far -as regards the PUBLIC. If you were to ask me as a friend whether I think -it would suit _the General Taste_, I should reply that I cannot calculate -on caprice and accident (for instance, some fashionable man or review -happening to take it up favourably), but that otherwise my fears would be -stronger than my hopes. Men of genius will admire it, of necessity. Those -must, who think deepest and most imaginatively. Then "Louisa" would -delight _all_ of good hearts. - -I remain, dear sir, with every respect, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCII. TO DANIEL STUART. - - Mr. Smith's, Ashley, Box, near Bath, - September 12, 1814. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I wrote some time ago to Mr. Smith, earnestly requesting -your address, and entreating him to inform you of the dreadful state in -which I was, when your kind letter must have arrived, during your stay at -Bath.... But let me not complain. I ought to be and I trust I am, grateful -for what I am, having escaped with my intellectual powers, if less -elastic, yet not less vigorous, and with ampler and far more solid -materials to exert them on. We know nothing even of ourselves, till we -know _ourselves_ to be as nothing (a solemn truth, spite of point and -antithesis, in which the thought has chanced to _word_ itself)! From this -_word_ of truth which the sore discipline of a sick bed has compacted into -an indwelling reality, from this article, formerly, of _speculative -belief_, but which [circumstances] have actualised into _practical faith_, -I have learned to counteract calumny by self-reproach, and not only to -rejoice (as indeed from natural disposition, from the very constitution of -my heart, I should have done at all periods of my life) at the temporal -prosperity, and increased and increasing reputation of my old -fellow-labourers in philosophical, political, and poetical literature, but -to bear their neglect, and even their detraction, _as if I had done -nothing at all_, when it would have asked no very violent strain of -recollection for one or two of them to have considered, whether some part -of _their_ most successful _somethings_ were not among the _nothings_ of -my intellectual no-doings. But all strange things are less strange than -the sense of intellectual obligations. Seldom do I ever see a Review, yet -almost as often as that seldomness permits have I smiled at finding myself -attacked in strains of thought which would never have occurred to the -writer, had he not directly or indirectly learned them from myself. This -is among the salutary effects, even of the dawn of actual religion on the -mind, that we begin to reflect on our duties to God and to ourselves as -permanent beings, and not to flatter ourselves by a superficial auditing -of our negative duties to our neighbours, or mere acts _in transitu_ to -the transitory. I have too sad an account to settle between myself that is -and has been, and myself that _can_ not cease to be, to allow me a single -complaint that, for all my labours in behalf of truth against the Jacobin -party, then against military despotism abroad, against weakness and -despondency and faction and factious goodiness at home, I have never -received from those in power even a verbal acknowledgment; though by mere -reference to dates, it might be proved that no small number of fine -speeches in the House of Commons, and elsewhere, originated, directly or -indirectly, in my Essays and conversations.[115] I dare assert, that the -science of reasoning and judging concerning the productions of literature, -the characters and measures of public men, and the events of nations, by a -systematic subsumption of them, under PRINCIPLES, deduced from the nature -of MAN, and that of prophesying concerning the future (in contradiction to -the hopes or fears of the majority) by a careful cross-examination of some -period, the most analogous in past history, as learnt from contemporary -authorities, and the proportioning of the ultimate event to the likenesses -as modified or counteracted by the differences, was as good as unknown in -the public prints, before the year 1795-96. Earl Darnley, on the -appearance of my letters in the "Courier" concerning the Spaniards,[116] -bluntly asked me, whether I had lost my senses, and quoted Lord Grenville -at me. If you should happen to cast your eye over my character of -Pitt,[117] my two letters to Fox, my Essays on the French Empire under -Buonaparte, compared with the Roman, under the first Emperors; that on the -probability of the restoration of the Bourbons, and those on Ireland, and -Catholic Emancipation (which last unfortunately remain for the greater -part in manuscript, Mr. Street not relishing them), and should add to them -my Essays in "The Friend" on Taxation, and the supposed effects of war on -our commercial prosperity; those on international law in defence of our -siege of Copenhagen; and if you had before you the long letter which I -wrote to Sir G. Beaumont in 1806,[118] concerning the inevitableness of a -war with America, and the specific dangers of that war, if not provided -against by specific pre-arrangements; with a list of their Frigates, so -called, with their size, number, and weight of metal, the characters of -their commanders, and the proportion suspected of British seamen.--I have -luckily a copy of it, a rare accident with me.--I dare amuse myself, I -say, with the belief, that by far the better half of all these, would -read to you now, AS HISTORY. And what have I got for all this? What for my -first daring to blow the trumpet of sound philosophy against the -Lancastrian faction? The answer is not complex. Unthanked, and left worse -than defenceless, by the friends of the Government and the Establishment, -to be undermined or outraged by all the malice, hatred, and calumny of its -enemies; and to think and toil, with a patent for all the abuse, and a -transfer to others of all the honours. In the "Quarterly" Review of the -"Remorse" (delayed till it could by no possibility be of the least service -to me, and the compliments in which are as senseless and silly as the -censures; every fault ascribed to it, being either no improbability at -all, or from the very essence and end of the drama no DRAMATIC -improbability, without noticing any one of the REAL faults, and there are -many glaring, and one or two DEADLY sins in the tragedy)--in this Review, -I am abused, and insolently reproved as a man, with reference to my -supposed private habits, for NOT PUBLISHING. Would to heaven I never had! -To this very moment I am embarrassed and tormented, in consequence of the -non-payment of the subscribers to "The Friend." But I _could_ rebut the -charge; and not merely say, but prove, that there is not a man in England, -whose thoughts, images, words, and erudition have been published in larger -quantities than _mine_; though I must admit, not _by_, or _for_, myself. -Believe me, if I felt any pain from these things, I should not make this -_exposé_; for it is constitutional with me, to _shrink_ from all talk or -communication of what gnaws within me. And, if I felt any real anger, I -should not do what I fully intend to do, publish two long satires, in -Drydenic verse, entitled "Puff and Slander."[119] But I seem to myself to -have endured the hootings and peltings, and "Go up bald head" (2 Kings, -ch. ii. vs. 23, 24) quite long enough; and shall therefore send forth my -two she-bears, to tear in pieces the most obnoxious of these ragged -CHILDREN in intellect; and to scare the rest of these mischievous little -mud-larks back to their crevice-nests, and lurking holes. While those who -know me best, spite of my many infirmities, love me best, I am determined, -henceforward, to treat my unprovoked enemies in the spirit of the Tiberian -adage, _Oderint modo timeant_. - -And now, having for the very first time in my whole life opened out my -whole feelings and thoughts concerning my past fates and fortunes, I will -draw anew on your patience, by a detail of my present operations. My -medical friend is so well satisfied of my convalescence, and that nothing -now remains, but to superinduce _positive_ health on a system from which -disease and its _removable_ causes have been driven out, that he has not -merely consented to, but advised my leaving Bristol, for some rural -retirement. I could indeed pursue nothing uninterruptedly in that city. -Accordingly, I am now joint tenant with Mr. Morgan, of a sweet little -cottage, at Ashley, half a mile from Box, on the Bath road. I breakfast -every morning before nine; work till one, and walk or read till three. -Thence, till tea-time, chat or read some lounge book, or correct what I -have written. From six to eight work again; from eight till bed-time, play -whist, or the little mock billiard called bagatelle, and then sup, and go -to bed. My morning hours, as the longest and most important division, I -keep sacred to my most important Work,[120] which is printing at Bristol; -two of my friends having taken upon themselves the risk. It is so long -since I have conversed with you, that I cannot say, whether the subject -will, or will not be interesting to you. The title is "Christianity, the -one true Philosophy; or, Five Treatises on the Logos, or Communicative -Intelligence, natural, human, and divine." To which is prefixed a -prefatory Essay, on the laws and limits of toleration and liberality, -illustrated by fragments of AUTO-biography. The _first_ Treatise--Logos -Propaidenticos, or the Science of systematic thinking in ordinary life. -The _second_--Logos Architectonicus, or an attempt to apply the -constructive or Mathematical process to Metaphysics and Natural Theology. -The _third_--[Greek: Ho Logos ho theanthrôpos] (the divine logos -incarnate)--a full commentary on the Gospel of St. John, in development of -St. Paul's doctrine of preaching Christ alone, and Him crucified. The -_fourth_--on Spinoza and Spinozism, with a life of B. Spinoza. This -entitled Logos Agonistes. The _fifth_ and last, Logos Alogos (_i. e._, -Logos Illogicus), or on modern Unitarianism, its causes and effects. The -whole will be comprised in two portly octavos, and the second treatise -will be the only one which will, and from the nature of the subject must, -be unintelligible to the great majority even of well educated readers. The -purpose of the whole is a philosophical defence of the Articles of the -Church, as far as they respect doctrine, as points of faith. If -originality be any merit, this Work will have that, at all events, from -the first page to the last. - -The evenings I have employed in composing a series of Essays on the -principles of Genial Criticism concerning the fine Arts, especially those -of Statuary and Painting;[121] and of these four in title, but six or more -in size, have been published in "Felix Farley's Bristol Journal;" a -strange plan for such a publication; but my motive was originally to serve -poor Allston, who is now exhibiting his pictures at Bristol. Oh! dear sir! -do pray if you have the power or opportunity use your influence with "The -Sun," not to continue that accursed system of calumny and detraction -against Allston. The articles, by whomever written, were a disgrace to -human nature, and, to my positive knowledge, argued only less ignorance -than malignity. Mr. Allston has been cruelly used. Good God! what did I -not hear Sir George Beaumont say, with my own ears! Nay, he wrote to me -after repeated examination of Allston's great picture, declaring himself a -complete convert to all my opinions of Allston's paramount genius as a -historical painter. What did I not hear Mr. West say? After a full hour's -examination of the picture, he pointed out _one_ thing he thought out of -harmony (and which against my earnest desire Allston altered and had -reason to repent sorely) and then said, "I have shot my bolt. It is as -near perfection as a picture can be!"... - -But to return to my Essays. I shall publish no more in Bristol. What they -could do, they have done. But I have carefully corrected and polished -those already published, and shall carry them on to sixteen or twenty, -containing animated descriptions of all the best pictures of the great -masters in England, with characteristics of the great masters from Giotto -to Correggio. The first three Essays were of necessity more austere; for -till it could be determined what _beauty_ was; whether it was beauty -merely because it pleased, or pleased because it was beauty, it would have -been as absurd to talk of general principles of taste, as of tastes. Now -will this series, purified from all accidental, local, or personal -references, tint or serve the "Courier" in the present dearth? I have no -hesitation in declaring them the best compositions _I_ have ever written, -I could regularly supply two Essays a week, and one political Essay. Be so -good as to speak to Mr. Street.[122] I could send him up eight or ten at -once. - -Make my best respects to Mrs. Stuart. I shall be very anxious to hear from -you. - -Your affectionate and grateful friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCIII. TO THE SAME. - -"October 30, 1814." - -DEAR STUART,--After I had finished the third letter,[123] I thought it the -best I had ever written; but, on re-perusal, I perfectly agree with you. -It is misty, and like most misty compositions, _laborious_,--what the -Italians call FATICOSO. I except the two last paragraphs ("In this guise -my Lord," to--"aversabitur"). These I still like. Yet what I _wanted_ to -say is very important, because it strikes at the ROOT of all LEGISLATIVE -Jacobinism. The view which our laws take of robbery, and even murder, not -as GUILT of which God alone is presumed to be the Judge, but as CRIMES -depriving the _King_ of one of _his_ subjects, rendering dangerous and -abating the value of the King's Highways, etc., may suggest some notion of -my meaning. Jack, Tom, and Harry have no existence in the eye of the law, -except as included in some form or other of the PERMANENT PROPERTY of the -realm. Just as, on the other hand, Religion has nothing to do with Ranks, -Estates, or Offices; but exerts itself wholly on what is PERSONAL, viz., -our souls, consciences, and the MORALITY of our actions, as opposed to -mere legality. Ranks, Estates, Offices, etc., were _made_ for _persons_! -exclaims Major Cartwright[124] and his partizans. Yes, I reply, as far as -the DIVINE administration is concerned, but _human_ jurisprudence, wisely -aware of its own weakness, and sensible how incommensurate its powers are -with so vast an object as the well-being of individuals, as individuals, -reverses the position, and knows nothing of persons, other than as -properties, officiaries, subjects. The preambles of our old statutes -concerning aliens (as foreign merchants) and Jews, are all so many -illustrations of my principle; the strongest instance of opposition to -which, and therefore characteristic of the present age, was the attempt to -legislate for animals by Lord Erskine;[125] that is, not merely -interfering with persons as persons; or with what are called by moralists -the imperfect duties (a very obscure phrase for obligations of conscience, -not capable of being realized (_perfecta_) by legal penalties), but -extending PERSONALITY to _things_. - -In saying this, I mean only to designate the general spirit of human law. -Every principle, on its application to practice, must be limited and -modified by circumstances; our reason by our common sense. Still, however, -the PRINCIPLE is most important, as aim, rule, and guide. Guided by this -spirit, our ancestors repealed the Puritan Law, by which adultery was to -be punished with death, and brought it back to a civil damage. So, too, -actions for seduction. Not that the Judge or Legislator did not feel the -guilt of such crimes, but that the _Law_ knows nothing about guilt. So, in -the Exchequer, common debts are sued for on the plea that the creditor is -less able to pay our Lord the King, etc., etc. Now, contrast with this, -the preamble to the first French Constitution, and I think my meaning will -become more intelligible; that the pretence of considering persons not -states, happiness not property, always has ended, and always will end, in -making a new STATE, or corporation, infinitely more oppressive than the -former; and in which the real freedom of persons is as much less, as the -things interfered with are more numerous, and more minute. Compare the -duties, exacted from a United Irishman by the Confederacy, with those -required of him by the law of the land. This, I think, not ill expressed, -in the two last periods of the fourth paragraph. "Thus in order to -sacrifice ... confederation." - -Of course I immediately recognised your hand in the Article concerning the -"Edinburgh Review," and much pleased I was with it; and equally so in -finding, from your letter, that we had so completely coincided in our -feelings, concerning that wicked Lord Nelson Article.[126] If there be one -thing on earth that can outrage an honest man's feelings, it is the -assumption of austere morality for the purposes of personal slander. And -the gross ingratitude of the attack! In the name of God what have we to do -with Lord Nelson's mistresses, or domestic quarrels? Sir A. Ball, himself -exemplary in this respect, told me of his own personal knowledge Lady -Nelson was enough to drive any man wild.... She had no sympathy with his -acute sensibilities, and his alienation was effected, though not shown, -before he knew Lady Hamilton, by being _heart starved_, still more than by -being teased and tormented by her sullenness. Observe that Sir A. Ball -detested Lady Hamilton. To the same enthusiastic sensibilities which made -a fool of him with regard to his Emma, his country owed the victories of -the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar, and the heroic spirit of all the -officers reared under him. - -When I was at Bowood there was a plan suggested between Bowles and myself, -to engage among the cleverest literary characters of our knowledge, six or -eight, each of whom was to engage to take some one subject of those into -which the "Edinburgh Review" might be aptly divided; as Science, Classical -Knowledge, Style, Taste, Philosophy, Political Economy, Morals, Religion, -and Patriotism; to state the number of Essays he could write and the time -at which he would deliver each; and so go through the whole of the -"Review":--to be published in the first instance in the "Courier" during -the Recess of Parliament. We thought of Southey, Wordsworth, Crowe, -Crabbe, Wollaston; and Bowles thought he could answer for several single -Articles from persons of the highest rank in the Church and our two -Universities. Such a plan, adequately executed, seven or eight years ago, -would have gone near to blow up this Magazine of Mischief. - -As to Ridgeway[127] and the Essays, I have not only no objection to my -name being given, but I should prefer it. I have just as much right to -call myself dramatically an Irish Protestant, when writing in the -character of one, as Swift had to call himself a draper.[128] I have waded -through as mischievous a Work, as two huge quartos, very dull, can be, by -a Mr. Edward Wakefield, called an Account of Ireland. Of all scribblers -these agricultural quarto-mongers are the vilest. I thought of making the -affairs of Ireland, _in toto_, chiefly however with reference to the -Catholic Question, a new series, and of republishing in the Appendix to -the eight letters to Mr. Justice Fletcher, Lord Clare's (then Chancellor -Fitzgibbon's) admirable speech, worthy of Demosthenes, of which a copy was -brought me over from Dublin by Rickman, and given to Lamb. It was never -printed in England, nor is it to be procured. I never met with a person -who had heard of it. Except that one main point is omitted (and it is -remarkable that the poet Edmund Spenser in his Dialogue on Ireland[129] is -the only writer who has urged this point), viz., the forcing upon savages -the laws of a comparatively civilised people, instead of adopting measures -gradually to render them susceptible of those laws, this speech might be -deservedly called the philosophy of the past and present history of -Ireland. It makes me smile to observe, how all the mediocre men exult in a -Ministry that have been so successful without any overpowering talent of -eloquence, etc. It is true that a series of gigantic events like those of -the last eighteen months, will lift up any cock-boat to the skies upon -their billows; but no less true that, sooner or later, parliamentary -talent will be found absolutely requisite for an English Ministry. - -With sincere regard and esteem, your obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCIV. TO JOHN KENYON.[130] - -Mr. B. Morgan's, Bath, November 3 [1814]. - -MY DEAR SIR,--At Binn's, Cheap Street, I found Jeremy Taylor's "Dissuasive -from Popery," in the largest and only complete edition of his Polemical -Tracts. Mr. Binns had no objection to the paragraphs being transcribed any -morning or evening at his house, and I put in a piece of paper with the -words at which the transcript should begin and with which end--p. 450, l. -5, to p. 451, l. 31, I believe. But indeed I am ashamed, rather I feel -awkward and uncomfortable at obtruding on you so long a task, much longer -than I had imagined. I don't like to use any words that might give you -_un_pleasure, but I cannot help fearing that, like a child spoilt by your -and Mrs. Kenyon's great indulgence, I may have been betrayed into -presuming on it more than I ought. Indeed, my dear sir! I do feel very -keenly how exceeding kind you and Mrs. K. have been to me. It makes this -scrawl of mine look dim in a way that was less uncommon with me formerly -than it has been for the last eight or ten years. - -But to return, or turn off, to the good old Bishop. It would be worth your -while to read Taylor's "Letter on Original Sin," and what follows. I -compare it to an old statue of Janus, with one of the faces, that which -looks towards his opponents, the controversial phiz in highest -preservation,--the force of a mighty one, all power, all life,--the face -of a God rushing on to battle, and, in the same moment, enjoying at once -both contest and triumph; the other, that which should have been the -countenance that looks toward his followers, that with which he -substitutes his own opinion, all weather eaten, dim, useless, a _Ghost_ in -_marble_, such as you may have seen represented in many of Piranesi's -astounding engravings from Rome and the Campus Martius. Jer. Taylor's -discursive intellect dazzle-darkened his intuition. The principle of -becoming all things to all men, if by _any_ means he might save _any_, -with him as with Burke, thickened the protecting epidermis of the -tact-nerve of truth into something like a callus. But take him all in all, -such a miraculous combination of erudition, broad, deep, and omnigenous; -of logic subtle as well as acute, and as robust as agile; of psychological -insight, so fine yet so secure! of public prudence and practical -_sageness_ that one ray of _creative Faith_ would have lit up and -transfigured into wisdom, and of genuine imagination, with its streaming -face unifying all at one moment like that of the setting sun when through -an interspace of blue sky no larger than itself, it emerges from the cloud -to sink behind the mountain, but a face seen only at _starts_, when some -breeze from the higher air scatters, for a moment, the cloud of butterfly -fancies, which flutter around him like a morning-garment of ten thousand -colours--(now how shall I get out of this sentence? the tail is too big to -be taken up into the coiler's mouth)--well, as I was saying, I believe -such a complete man hardly shall we meet again. - -May God bless you and yours! - - Your obliged - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. My address after Tuesday will be (God permitting) Mr. Page's, -Surgeon, Calne. - -J. KENYON, Esq., 9, Argyle Street. - - -CCV. TO LADY BEAUMONT. - -April 3, 1815. - -DEAR MADAM,--Should your Ladyship still have among your papers those lines -of mine to Mr. Wordsworth after his recitation of the poem on the growth -of his own spirit,[131] which you honoured by wishing to take a copy, you -would oblige me by enclosing them for me, addressed--"Mr. Coleridge, -Calne, Wilts." Of "The Excursion," excluding the tale of the ruined -cottage, which I have ever thought the finest poem in our language, -comparing it with any of the same or similar _length_, I can truly say -that one half the number of its beauties would make all the beauties of -all his contemporary poets collectively mount to the balance:--but -yet--the fault may be in my own mind--I do not think, I did not feel, it -equal to the work on the growth of his own spirit. As proofs meet me in -every part of "The Excursion" that the poet's genius has not flagged, I -have sometimes fancied that, having by the conjoint operation of his own -experiences, feelings, and reason, _himself_ convinced _himself_ of -truths, which the generality of persons have either taken for granted from -their infancy, or, at least, adopted in early life, he has attached all -their own depth and weight to doctrines and words, which come almost as -truisms or commonplaces to others. From this state of mind, in which I was -comparing Wordsworth with himself, I was roused by the infamous -"Edinburgh" review of the poem. If ever guilt lay on a writer's head, and -if malignity, slander, hypocrisy, and self-contradictory baseness can -constitute guilt, I dare openly, and openly (please God!) I will, impeach -the writer of that article of it. These are awful times--a dream of -dreams! To be a prophet is, and ever has been, an unthankful office. At -the Illumination for the Peace I furnished a design for a friend's -transparency--a vulture, with the head of Napoleon, chained to a rock, and -Britannia bending down, with one hand stretching out the wing of the -vulture, and with the other clipping it with shears, on the one blade of -which was written Nelson, on the other Wellington. The motto-- - - We've fought for peace, and conquer'd it at last; - The ravening Vulture's leg is fetter'd fast. - Britons, rejoice! and yet be wary too! - The chain may break, the clipt wing sprout anew.[132] - -And since I have conversed with those who first returned from France, I -have weekly expected the event. Napoleon's object at present is to -embarrass the Allies, and to cool the enthusiasm of their subjects. The -latter he unfortunately will be too successful in. In London, my Lady, it -is scarcely possible to distinguish the opinions of the people from the -ravings and railings of the mob; but in country towns we must be blind not -to see the real state of the popular mind. I do not know whether your -Ladyship read my letters to Judge Fletcher. I can assure you it is no -exaggerated picture of the predominance of Jacobinism. In this small town -of Calne five hundred volunteers were raised in the last war. I am -persuaded that five could not be raised now. A considerable landowner, -and a man of great observation, said to me last week, "A famine, sir, -could scarce have produced more evil than the Corn Bill[133] has done -under the present circumstances." I speak nothing of the Bill itself, -except that, after the closest attention and the most sedulous inquiry -after facts from landowners, farmers, stewards, millers, and bakers, I am -convinced that both opponents and advocates were in extremes, and that an -evil produced by many causes was by many remedies to have been cured, not -by the universal elixir of one sweeping law. - -My poems will be put to press by the middle of June. A number adequate to -one volume are already in the hands of my friends at Bristol, under -conditions that _they_ are to be published at all events, even though I -should not add another volume, which I never had so little reason to -doubt. Within the last two days I have composed three poems, containing -500 lines in the whole. - -Mr. and Mrs. Morgan present their respective compliments to your Ladyship -and Sir George. - -I remain, my Lady, your Ladyship's obliged humble servant, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCVI. TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - -CALNE, May 30, 1815. - -MY HONOURED FRIEND,--On my return from Devizes, whither I had gone to -procure some vaccine matter (the small-pox having appeared in Calne, and -Mrs. Morgan's sister believing herself never to have had it), I found your -letter: and I will answer it immediately, though to answer it as I could -wish to do would require more recollection and arrangement of thought -than is always to be commanded on the instant. But I dare not trust my own -habit of procrastination, and, do what I would, it would be impossible in -a single letter to give more than _general_ convictions. But, even after a -tenth or twentieth letter, I should still be disquieted as knowing how -poor a substitute must letters be for a _vivâ voce_ examination of a work -with its author, line by line. It is most uncomfortable from many, many -causes, to express anything but sympathy, and gratulation to an absent -friend, to whom for the more substantial third of a life we have been -habituated to look up: especially where a love, though increased by many -and different influences, yet begun and throve and knit its joints in the -perception of his superiority. It is not in _written words_, but by the -hundred modifications that looks make and tone, and denial of the _full_ -sense of the very words used, that one can reconcile the struggle between -sincerity and diffidence, between the persuasion that I am in the right, -and that as deep though not so vivid conviction, that it may be the -positiveness of ignorance rather than the certainty of insight. Then come -the human frailties, the dread of giving pain, or exciting suspicions of -alteration and dyspathy, in short, the almost inevitable insincerities -between imperfect beings, however sincerely attached to each other. It is -hard (and I am Protestant enough to doubt whether _it is_ right) to -confess the whole truth (even _of_ one's self, human nature scarce endures -it, even _to_ one's self), but to me it is still harder to do this of and -to a revered friend. - -But to your letter. First, I had never determined to print the lines -addressed to you. I lent them to Lady Beaumont on her promise that they -should be copied, and returned; and not knowing of any copy in my own -possession, I sent for them, because I was making a MS. collection of -_all_ my poems--publishable and unpublishable--and still more perhaps for -the handwriting of the only perfect copy, that entrusted to her ladyship. -Most assuredly, I never once thought of printing them without having -consulted you, and since I lit on the first rude draught, and corrected it -as well as I could, I wanted no additional reason for its not being -published in my lifetime than its _personality_ respecting myself. After -the opinions I had given publicly, in the preference of "Lycidas" (moral -no less than poetical) to Cowley's Monody, I could not have printed it -consistently. It is for the biographer, not the poet, to give the -_accidents_ of _individual_ life. Whatever is not representative, generic, -may be indeed most poetically expressed, but is not poetry. Otherwise, I -confess, your prudential reasons would not have weighed with me, except as -far as my name might haply injure your reputation, for there is nothing in -the lines, as far as your powers are concerned, which I have not as fully -expressed elsewhere; and I hold it a miserable cowardice to withhold a -deliberate opinion only because the man is alive. - -Secondly, for "The Excursion," I feared that had I been silent concerning -"The Excursion," Lady Beaumont would have drawn some strange inference; -and yet I had scarcely sent off the letter before I repented that I had -not run that risk rather than have approach to dispraise communicated to -you by a third person. But what did my criticism amount to, reduced to its -full and naked sense? This, that _comparatively_ with the _former_ poem, -"The Excursion," as far as it was new to me, had disappointed my -expectations; that the excellencies were so many and of so high a class -that it was impossible to attribute the inferiority, if any such really -existed, to any flagging of the writer's own genius--and that I -conjectured that it might have been occasioned by the influence of -self-established convictions having given to certain thoughts and -expressions a depth and force which they had not for readers in general. -In order, therefore, to explain the _disappointment_, I must recall to -your mind what my _expectations_ were: and, as these again were founded on -the supposition that (in whatever order it might be published) the poem on -the growth of your own mind was as the ground plot and the roots, out of -which "The Recluse" was to have sprung up as the tree, as far as [there -was] the same sap in both, I expected them, doubtless, to have formed one -complete whole; but in matter, form, and product to be different, each not -only a distinct but a different work. In the first I had found "themes by -thee first sung aright," - - Of smiles spontaneous and mysterious fears - (The first-born they of reason and twin-birth) - Of tides obedient to external force, - And currents self-determin'd, as might seem, - Or by some central breath; of moments awful, - Now in thy inner life, and now abroad, - When power stream'd from thee, and thy soul received - The light reflected as a light bestowed; - Of fancies fair, and milder hours of youth, - Hyblæan murmurs of poetic thought - Industrious in its joy, in vales and glens - Native or outland, lakes and famous hills! - Or on the lonely highroad, when the stars - Were rising; or by secret mountain streams, - The guides and the companions of thy way; - Of more than _fancy_--of the _social sense_ - Distending wide, and man beloved as man, - Where France in all her towns lay vibrating, - Ev'n as a bark becalm'd beneath the burst - Of Heaven's immediate thunder, when no cloud - Is visible, or shadow on the main! - For Thou wert there, thy own brows garlanded, - Amid the tremor of a realm aglow, - Amid a mighty nation jubilant, - When from the general heart of human kind - _Hope_ sprang forth, like a full-born Deity! - Of that dear Hope afflicted, and amaz'd, - So homeward summon'd! thenceforth calm and sure - From the dread watch-tower of man's absolute self, - With light unwaning on her eyes, to look - Far on! herself a glory to behold, - The Angel of the vision! Then (last strain) - Of duty, chosen laws controlling choice, - Action and Joy! _An Orphic song indeed, - A song divine of high and passionate truths, - To their own music chaunted!_ - -Indeed, through the whole of that Poem, [Greek: me Aura tis eisepneuse -mousikôtatê]. This I considered as "The Excursion;"[134] and the second, -as "The Recluse" I had (from what I had at different times gathered from -your conversation on the Place [Grasmere]) anticipated as commencing with -you set down and settled in an abiding home, and that with the description -of that home you were to begin a _philosophical poem_, the _result_ and -fruits of a spirit so framed and so disciplined as had been told in the -former. - -Whatever in Lucretius is poetry is not philosophical, whatever is -philosophical is not poetry; and in the very pride of confident hope I -looked forward to "The Recluse" as the _first_ and _only_ true -philosophical poem in existence. Of course, I expected the colours, music, -imaginative life, and passion of _poetry_; but the matter and arrangement -of _philosophy_; not doubting from the advantages of the subject that the -totality of a system was not only capable of being harmonised with, but -even calculated to aid, the unity (beginning, middle, and end) of a poem. -Thus, whatever the length of the work might be, still it was a -_determinate_ length; of the subjects announced, each would have its own -appointed place, and, excluding repetitions, each would relieve and rise -in interest above the other. I supposed you first to have meditated the -faculties of man in the abstract, in their correspondence with his sphere -of action, and, first in the feeling, touch, and taste, then in the eye, -and last in the ear,--to have laid a solid and immovable foundation for -the edifice by removing the sandy sophisms of Locke, and the mechanic -dogmatists, and demonstrating that the senses were living growths and -developments of the mind and spirit, in a much juster as well as higher -sense, than the mind can be said to be formed by the senses. Next, I -understood that you would take the human race in the concrete, have -exploded the absurd notion of Pope's "Essay on Man," Darwin, and all the -countless believers even (strange to say) among Christians of man's having -progressed from an ourang-outang state--so contrary to all history, to all -religion, nay, to all possibility--to have affirmed a Fall in some sense, -as a fact, the possibility of which cannot be understood from the nature -of the will, but the reality of which is attested by experience and -conscience. Fallen men contemplated in the different ages of the world, -and in the different states--savage, barbarous, civilised, the lonely cot, -or borderer's wigwam, the village, the manufacturing town, seaport, city, -universities, and, not disguising the sore evils under which the whole -creation groans, to point out, however, a manifest scheme of redemption, -of reconciliation from this enmity with Nature--what are the obstacles, -the _Antichrist_ that must be and already is--and to conclude by a grand -didactic swell on the necessary identity of a true philosophy with true -religion, agreeing in the results and differing only as the analytic and -synthetic process, as discursive from intuitive, the former chiefly useful -as perfecting the latter; in short, the necessity of a general revolution -in the modes of developing and disciplining the human mind by the -substitution of life and intelligence (considered in its different powers -from the plant up to that state in which the difference of degree becomes -a new kind (man, self-consciousness), but yet not by essential opposition) -for the philosophy of mechanism, which, in everything that is most worthy -of the human intellect, strikes _Death_, and cheats itself by mistaking -clear images for distinct conceptions, and which idly demands conceptions -where intuitions alone are possible or adequate to the majesty of the -Truth. In short, facts elevated into theory--theory into laws--and laws -into living and intelligent powers--true idealism necessarily perfecting -itself in realism, and realism refining itself into idealism. - -Such or something like this was the plan I had supposed that you were -engaged on. Your own words will therefore explain my feelings, viz., that -your object "was not to convey recondite, or refined truths, but to place -commonplace truths in an interesting point of view." Now this I suppose to -have been in your two volumes of poems, as far as was desirable or -possible, without an insight into the whole truth. How can common truths -be made permanently interesting but by being _bottomed_ on our common -nature? It is only by the profoundest insight into numbers and quantity -that a sublimity and even religious wonder become attached to the simplest -operations of arithmetic, the most evident properties of the circle or -triangle. I have only to finish a preface, which I shall have done in two, -or, at farthest, three days; and I will then, dismissing all comparison -either with the poem on the growth of your own support, or with the -imagined plan of "The Recluse," state fairly my main objections to "The -Excursion" as it is. But it would have been alike unjust both to you and -to myself, if I had led you to suppose that any disappointment I may have -felt arose wholly or chiefly from the passages I do not like, or from the -poem considered irrelatively. - -Allston lives at 8, Buckingham Place, Fitzroy Square. He has lost his -wife, and been most unkindly treated and most unfortunate. I hope you will -call on him. Good God! to think of such a grub as _Dawe_ with more than he -can do, and such a genius as Allston without a single patron! - -God bless you! I am, and never have been other than your most affectionate - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Mr. and Mrs. Morgan desire to be affectionately remembered to you, and -they would be highly gratified if you could make a little tour and spend a -short time at Calne. There is an admirable collection of pictures at -Corsham. Bowles left Bremhill (two miles from us, where he has a perfect -paradise of a place) for town yesterday morning. - - -CCVII. TO THE REV. W. MONEY.[135] - -CALNE, Wednesday, 1815. - -DEAR SIR,--I have seldom made a greater sacrifice and gratification to -prudence than in the determination most reluctantly formed, that the state -of my health, which requires hourly regimen, joined with the uncertain -state of the weather and the perilous consequences of my taking cold in -the existing weakness of the viscera, renders it improper for me to hazard -a night away from my home. No pleasure, however intellectual (and to all -but intellectual _pleasures_ I have long been dead, for surely the staving -off of pain is no pleasure), could repay me even for the chance of being -again unwell in any house but my own. I have a great, a gigantic effort to -make, and I will go through with it or die. Gross have been the calumnies -concerning me; but enough remains of truth to enforce the necessity of -considering all other things as unimportant compared with the necessity of -_living them down_. This letter is, of course, sacred to yourself, and a -pledge of the high respect I entertain for your moral being; for you need -not the feelings of friendship to feel as a friend toward every fellow -Christian. - -To turn to another subject, Mr. Bowles, I understand, is about to publish, -at least is composing a reply to some answer to the "Velvet Cushion."[136] -I have seen neither work. But this I will venture to say, that if the -respondents in favour of the Church take upon them to justify in the most -absolute sense, as if Scripture were the subject of the controversy, -every minute part of our admirable Liturgy, and liturgical and sacramental -services, they will only furnish new triumph to ungenerous adversaries. - -The Church of England has in the Articles solemnly declared that all -Churches are fallible--and in another, to assert its absolute -immaculateness, sounds to me a mere contradiction. No! I would first -overthrow what can be fairly and to all men intelligibly overthrown in the -adversaries' objections (and of this kind the instances are as twenty to -one). For the remainder I would talk like a special pleader, and from the -defensive pass to the offensive, and then prove from St. Paul (for of the -practice of the early Church even in its purest state, before the reign of -Constantine, our opponents make no account) that errors in a Church that -neither directly or indirectly injure morals or oppugn salvation are -exercises for mutual charity, not excuses for schism. In short, is there -or is there [not] such a condemnable thing as schism? In the proof of -consequences of the affirmative lies, in my humble opinion, the complete -confutation of the (so-called) Evangelical Dissenters. - -I shall be most happy to converse with you on the subject. If Mr. Bowles -were not employed on it, I should have had no objection to have reduced my -many thoughts to order and have published them; but this might now seem -invidious and like rivalry. - -Present my best respects to Mrs. Money, and be so good as to make the -fitting apologies for me to Mr. T. Methuen,[137] the _man wise of heart_! -But an apology already exists for me in his own mind. - -I remain, dear sir, respectfully your obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Wednesday, Calne. - -P. S. I have opened this letter to add, that the greater number, if not -the whole, of the arguments used apply only to the ministers, not to the -members of the Established Church. Some one of our eminent divines refused -even to take the pastoral office, I believe, on account of the Funeral -Service and the Absolution of the Sick; but still it remains to justify -schism from _Church-Membership_. - -To the Rev. W. MONEY, Whetham. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -NEW LIFE AND NEW FRIENDS - -1816-1821 - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -NEW LIFE AND NEW FRIENDS - -1816-1821 - - -With Coleridge's name and memory must ever be associated the names of -James and Anne Gillman. It was beneath the shelter of their friendly roof -that he spent the last eighteen years of his life, and it was to their -wise and loving care that the comparative fruitfulness and well-being of -those years were due. They thought themselves honoured by his presence, -and he repaid their devotion with unbounded love and gratitude. Friendship -and loving-kindness followed Coleridge all the days of his life. What did -he not owe to Poole, to Southey for his noble protection of his family, to -the Morgans for their long-tried faithfulness and devotion to himself? But -to the Gillmans he owed the "crown of his cup and garnish of his dish," a -welcome which lasted till the day of his death. Doubtless there were -chords in his nature which were struck for the first time by these good -people, and in their presence and by their help he was a new man. But, for -all that, their patience must have been inexhaustible, their loyalty -unimpeachable, their love indestructible. Such friendship is rare and -beautiful, and merits a most honourable remembrance. - - -CCVIII. TO JAMES GILLMAN. - - 42, Norfolk Street, Strand, - Saturday noon, [April 13, 1816.] - -MY DEAR SIR,--The very first half hour I was with you convinced me that I -should owe my reception into your family exclusively to motives not less -flattering to me than honourable to yourself. I trust we shall ever in -matters of intellect be reciprocally serviceable to each other. Men of -sense generally come to the same conclusion; but they are likely to -contribute to each other's exchangement of view, in proportion to the -distance or even opposition of the points from which they set out. Travel -and the strange variety of situations and employments on which chance has -thrown me, in the course of my life, might have made me a mere man of -_observation_, if pain and sorrow and self-miscomplacence had not forced -my mind in on itself, and so formed habits of _meditation_. It is now as -much my nature to evolve the fact from the law, as that of a practical man -to deduce the law from the fact. - -With respect to pecuniary remuneration,[138] allow me to say, I must not -at least be suffered to make any addition to your family expenses--though -I cannot offer anything that would be in any way adequate to my sense of -the service; for that, indeed, there could not be a compensation, as it -must be returned in kind, by esteem and grateful affection. - -And now of myself. My ever wakeful reason, and the keenness of my moral -feelings, will secure you from all unpleasant circumstances connected with -me, save only one, viz., the evasion of a specific madness. You will -never _hear_ anything but truth from me:--prior habits render it out of my -power to tell an untruth, but unless carefully observed, I dare not -promise that I should not, with regard to this detested poison, be capable -of acting one. No sixty hours have yet passed without my having taken -laudanum, though for the last week [in] comparatively trifling doses. I -have full belief that your anxiety need not be extended beyond the first -week, and for the first week I shall not, I must not, be permitted to -leave your house, unless with you. Delicately or indelicately, this must -be done, and both the servants and the assistant must receive absolute -commands from you. The stimulus of conversation suspends the terror that -haunts my mind; but when I am alone, the horrors I have suffered from -laudanum, the degradation, the blighted utility, almost overwhelm me. If -(as I feel for the _first time_ a soothing confidence it will prove) I -should leave you restored to my moral and bodily health, it is not myself -only that will love and honour you; every friend I have (and thank God! in -spite of this wretched vice, I have many and warm ones, who were friends -of my youth and have never deserted me) will thank you with reverence. I -have taken no notice of your kind apologies. If I could not be comfortable -in your house, and with your family, I should deserve to be miserable. If -you could make it convenient I should wish to be with you by Monday -evening, as it would prevent the necessity of taking fresh lodgings in -town. - -With respectful compliments to Mrs. Gillman and her sister, I remain, dear -sir, your much obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCIX. TO DANIEL STUART. - - James Gillman's, Esq., Surgeon, Highgate, - Wednesday, May 8, 1816. - -MY DEAR STUART,--Since you left me I have been reflecting a good deal on -the subject of the Catholic Question, and somewhat on the "Courier" in -general. With all my weight of faults (and no one is less likely to -underrate them than myself) a tendency to be influenced by selfish motives -in my friendships, or even in the cultivation of my acquaintances, will -not, I am sure, be _by you_ placed among them. When we first knew each -other, it was perhaps the most interesting period of both our lives, at -the very turn of the flood; and I can never cease to reflect with -affectionate delight on the steadiness and independence of your conduct -and principles; and how, for so many years, with little assistance from -others, and with one main guide, a sympathising tact for the real sense, -feeling, and impulses of the _respectable_ part of the English nation, you -went on so auspiciously, and likewise so _effectively_. It is far, very -far, from being a hyperbole to affirm, that you did more against the -French scheme of Continental domination, than the Duke of Wellington has -done; or rather Wellington could neither have been supplied by the -Ministers, nor the Ministers supported by the Nation, but for the tone -first given, and then constantly kept up, by the plain, unministerial, -anti-opposition, anti-jacobin, anti-gallican, anti-Napoleonic spirit of -your writings, aided by the colloquial style, and evident good sense, in -which as acting on an immense mass of knowledge of existing men and -existing circumstances, you are superior to any man I ever met with in my -lifetime. Indeed you are the only human being of whom I can say, with -severe truth, that I never conversed with you for an hour, without -rememberable instruction. And with the same simplicity I dare affirm my -belief, that my greater knowledge of _man_ has been useful to you; though -from the nature of things, not so useful, as your knowledge of _men_ has -been to me. Now with such convictions, my dear Stuart, how is it possible -that I can look back on the conduct of the "Courier," from the period of -the Duke of York's restoration, without some pain? You cannot be seriously -offended or affronted with me, if in this deep confidence, and in a letter -which, or its contents, can meet no eye but your own, I venture to declare -that, though since then much has been done, very much of high utility to -the country by and under Mr. Street, yet the "Courier" itself has -gradually lost that sanctifying spirit which was the life of its life, and -without which even the best and soundest principles lose half their effect -on the human mind. I mean, the _faith_ in the _faith_ of the person or -paper which brings them forward. They are attributed to the _accident_ of -their happening to be _for_ such a side or such a party. In short there is -no longer any _root_ in the paper, out of which all the various branches -and fruits and even fluttering leaves are seen or believed to grow. But it -is the old tree barked round above the root, though the circular -decortication is so small, and so neatly filled up and coloured as to be -scarcely visible but in its total effects. Excellent fruits still at times -hang on the boughs, but they are tied on by threads and hairs. - -In all this I am well aware that you are no otherwise to blame, than in -permitting what, without disturbance to your health and tranquillity, you -could not perhaps have prevented, or effectively modified. But the whole -plan of Street's seems to me to have been motiveless from the beginning, -or at least affected by the grossest miscalculations in respect even of -pecuniary interest. For had the paper maintained and asserted not only its -independence but its _appearance_ of it, it is true that Mr. Street might -not have had Mr. Croker to dine with him, or received as many nods or -shakes of the hand from Lord this, or that, but it is at least equally -true, that the Ministry would have been far more effectually served, and -that (I speak _now_ from facts) both paper and its conductor would have -been held by the adherents of Ministers in far higher respect. And after -all, Ministers do not _love_ newspapers in their hearts; not even those -that support them. Indeed it seems epidemic among Parliament men in -general, to affect to look down upon and to despise newspapers to which -they owe 999/1000 their influence and character--and at least three fifths -of their knowledge and phraseology. Enough! Burn this letter and forgive -the writer for the purity and affectionateness of his motive. - -With regard to the Catholic Question, if I write I must be allowed to -express the truth and the whole truth concerning the imprudent avowal of -Lord Castlereagh that it was not to be a _government question_. On this -condition I will write immediately a tract on the question which to the -best of my knowledge will be about from 120 to 140 octavo pages; but so -contrived that Mr. Street may find no difficulty in dividing it into ten -or twenty essays, or leading paragraphs. In my scheme I have carefully -excluded every approximation to metaphysical reasoning; and set aside -every thought which cannot be brought under one or the other of three -heads--1. Plain evident sense. 2. Historical documental facts. 3. Existing -circumstances, character, etc., of Ireland in relation to Great Britain, -and to its own interests, and those of its various classes of proprietors. -I shall not deliver it till it is wholly finished, and if you and Mr. -Street think that such a work delivered entire will be worth fifty pounds -to the paper, I will begin it immediately. Let me either see or hear from -you as soon as possible. Cannot Mr. Street send me some one or other of -the daily papers, without expense to you, after he has done with them? -Kind respects to Mrs. Stuart. - - Your affectionate and obliged friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCX. TO THE SAME. - -Monday, May 13, 1816. - -DEAR STUART,--It is among the feeblenesses of our nature, that we are -often, to a certain degree, acted on by stories, gravely asserted, of -which we yet do most religiously disbelieve every syllable, nay, which -perhaps we know to be false. The truth is that images and thoughts possess -a power in, and of themselves, independent of that act of the judgment or -understanding by which we affirm or deny the existence of a reality -correspondent to them. Such is the ordinary state of the mind in dreams. -It is not strictly accurate to say that we believe our dreams to be actual -while we are dreaming. We neither believe it, nor disbelieve it. With the -will the comparing power is suspended, and without the comparing power, -any act of judgment, whether affirmation or denial, is impossible. The -forms and thoughts act merely by their own inherent power, and the strong -feelings at times apparently connected with them are, in point of fact, -bodily sensations which are the causes or occasions of the images; not (as -when we are awake) the effects of them. Add to this a voluntary lending of -the will to this suspension of one of its own operations (that is, that of -comparison and consequent decision concerning the reality of any sensuous -impression) and you have the true theory of stage illusion, equally -distant from the absurd notion of the French critics, who ground their -principles on the presumption of an absolute _de_lusion, and of Dr. -Johnson who would persuade us that our judgments are as broad awake during -the most masterly representation of the deepest scenes of Othello, as a -philosopher would be during the exhibition of a magic lanthorn with Punch -and Joan and Pull Devil, Pull Baker, etc., on its painted slides. Now as -extremes always meet, this dogma of our dramatic critic and soporific -irenist would lead, by inevitable consequences, to that very doctrine of -the unities maintained by the French Belle Lettrists, which it was the -object of his strangely overrated, contradictory, and most illogical -preface to Shakespeare to overthrow. - -Thus, instead of troubling you with the idle assertions that have been -most authoritatively uttered, concerning your being under bond and seal to -the present Ministry, which I know to be (monosyllabically speaking) A -LIE, and which formed, I guess, part of the impulse which occasioned my -last letter, I have given you a theory which, as far as I know, is new, -and which I am quite sure is most important as the ground and fundamental -principle of all philosophic and of all common-sense criticisms concerning -the drama and the theatre. - -To put off, however, the Jack-the-Giant-Killer-seven-leagued boots, with -which I am apt to run away from the main purpose of what I had to write, I -owe it to myself and the truth to observe, that there was as much at least -of partiality as of grief and inculpation in my remarks on the spirit of -the "Courier;" and that with all its faults, I prefer it greatly to any -other paper, even without reference to its being the best and most -effective vehicle of what I deem most necessary and urgent truths. Be -assured there was no occasion to let me know, that with regard to the -proposed disquisition you were interested as a patriot and a protestant, -not as a proprietor of the particular paper. Such too, Heaven knows, is my -sole object! for as to the money that it may be thought worth according to -the number and value of the essays, I regard it merely as enabling me to -devote a given portion of time and effort to this subject, rather than to -any one of the many others by which I might procure the same remuneration. -From this hour I sit down to it tooth and nail, and shall not turn to the -left or right till I have finished it. When I have reached the half-way -house I will transmit the MSS. to you, that I may, without the necessity -of dis- or re-arranging the work, be able to adopt any suggestions of -yours, whether they should be additive, alterative, or emendative. One -question only I have to consult you concerning--viz., the _form_ which -would be the most attractive of notice; simply essays? or letters -addressed to Lord Liverpool for instance, on the supposition that he -remains firm to the Perceval principle on this blind, blundering, and -feverous scheme? - -Mr. and Mrs. Gillman will be most happy to see you to share in a family -dinner, and spend the evening with us; and if you will come early, I can -show you some most delicious walks. You will like Mr. Gillman. He is a man -of strong, fervid, and agile intellect, with such a master passion for -truth, that his most abstracted verities assume a character of veracity. -And his wife, it will be impossible not to respect, if a balance and -harmony of powers and qualities, unified and spiritualized by a native -feminine fineness of character, render womanhood amiable and respectable. -In serious truth I have much reason to be most grateful for the choice and -chance which has placed me under their hospitable roof. I have no doubt -that Mr. Gillman as friend and as physician will succeed in restoring me -to my natural self. - -My kind respects to Mrs. Stuart. I long to see the little one. - -Your obliged and sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXI. TO JOHN MURRAY. - -HIGHGATE, February 27, 1817. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I had a visit from Mr. Morgan yester-afternoon, and trouble -you with these lines in consequence of his communications. When I stated -to you the circumstances respecting the volumes of mine that have been so -long printed, and the embarrassment into which the blunder of the printer -had entangled me, with the sinking down of my health that made it so -perplexing for me to remedy it, I did it under the belief that you were -yourself very little disposed to the publication of the "Zapolya"[139] as -a separate work--unless it had, in some shape or other, been brought out -at the Theatre. Of this I seemed to have less and less chance. What had -been declared an indispensable part, and of all the play, the most -theatrical as well as dramatic, by Lord Byron, was ridiculed and thrown -out of all question by Mr. Douglas Kinnaird, with no other explanation -vouchsafed but that Lord Byron knew nothing about the matter--and, besides -that, was in the habit of overrating my performances. These were not the -words, but these words contain the purport of what he said. Meantime what -Mr. D. Kinnaird most warmly approved, Mr. Harris had previously declared -would convulse a house with laughter, and damn the piece beyond any -possibility of a further hearing. Still I was disposed in my distressed -circumstances of means, health, and spirits, to have tried the plan -suggested by Mr. D. Kinnaird of turning the "Zapolya" into a melodrama by -the omission of the first act. But Mr. K. was, with Lord Byron, dropped -from the sub-committee, and I knew no one to whom I could apply. Mr. -Dibdin, who had promised to befriend me, was likewise removed from the -stage-managership. Mr. Rae did indeed promise to give me a few hours of -his time repeatedly, and from my former acquaintance with him, as the -Ordonio of the "Remorse," I had some reason to be wounded by his neglect. -Indeed, at Drury Lane, no one knows to whom any effective application is -to be made. Mr. Kinnaird had engaged to look over the "Zapolya" with me, -and appointed the time. I went accordingly and passed the whole of the -fore-dinner day with him--in what? In hearing an opera of his own, and -returned as wise as I came. Much is talked of the advantages of a -managership of noblemen, but as far as I have seen and experienced, an -author has no cause to congratulate himself on the change, either in the -taste, courtesy, or reliability of his judges. Desponding concerning this -(and finding that every publication with my name would be persecuted by -pre-determination by the one guiding party, that I had no support to -expect from the other, and that the thicker and closer the cloud of -misfortunes gathered round me, the more actively and remorselessly were -the poisoned arrows of wanton enmity shot through it), I sincerely -believed that it would be neither to your advantage or mine that the -"Zapolya" should be published singly. It appeared, at that time, that the -annexing to it a collection of all my poems would enable the work to be -brought out without delay,--and I therefore applied to you, offering -either to repay the money received for it, or to work it out by furnishing -you with miscellaneous matter for the "Quarterly," or by sitting down to -the "Rabbinical Tales"[140] as soon as ever the works now in the press -were put out of my hand, that is, as far as the copy was concerned. Your -answer impressed me with your full assent to the plan. Nay, however -mortifying it might in ordinary circumstances have been to an author's -vanity, it was not so to me, that the "Zapolya" was a work of which you -had no objection to be rid. But, if I misunderstood you, let me now be -better informed, and whatever you wish shall be done. I have never -knowingly or intentionally been guilty of a dishonourable transaction, but -have in all things that respect my neighbour been more sinned against than -sinning. Much less would I hazard the appearance of an equivocal conduct -at present when I feel that I am sinking into the grave, with fainter and -fainter hopes of achieving that which, God knows my inmost heart! is the -sole motive for the wish to live--namely, that of preparing for the press -the results of twenty-five years hard study and almost constant -meditation. Reputation has no charm for me, except as a preventive of -starving. Abuse and ridicule are all which I could expect for myself, if -the six volumes were published which would comprise the sum total of my -convictions; but, most thoroughly satisfied both of their truth and of the -vital importance of these truths, convinced that of all systems that have -ever been prescribed, this has the least of _mysticism_, the very object -throughout from the first page to the last being to reconcile the dictates -of common sense with the conclusions of scientific reasoning--it would -assuredly be like a sudden gleam of sunshine falling on the face of a -dying man, if I left the world with a knowledge that the work would have a -chance of being read in better times. But of all men in the way of -business, my dear sir! I should be most reluctant to give you any just -cause of reproaching my integrity; because I know and feel, and have at -all times and to all persons who had any literary concerns with me, -_acknowledged_ that you have acted with a friendly kindness towards -me,--and if Mr. Gifford have taken a prejudice against me or my writings, -I never imputed it as blame to you. Let me then know what you wish me to -do, and I will do it. I ought to add, that in yielding to the proposal of -annexing the "Zapolya" to the volume of poetry, provided I could procure -your assent, I expressly stipulated that if, in any shape or modification, -it should be represented on the stage, the copyright of it in that form -would be reserved for your refusal or acceptance, and, in like manner the -"Christabel" when completed, and the "Rabbinical Tales." The second "Lay -Sermon" (a most unfortunate name) will appear, I trust, next week. - -I remain, my dear sir, with respect and regard, your obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I have not seen either the "Edinburgh"[141] or the "Quarterly" last -Reviews. The article against me in the former was, I am assured, written -by Hazlitt. Now what can I think of Mr. Jeffrey, who knows nothing -personally of me but my hospitable attentions to him, and from whom I -heard nothing but very high seasoned compliments, and who yet can avail -himself of _such_ an instrument of his most unprovoked malignity towards -me, an inoffensive man in distress and sickness? As soon as I have read -the article (and the loan of the book is promised me), I shall make up my -mind whether or not to address a letter, publicly to Mr. Jeffrey, or, in -the form of an appeal, to the public, concerning his proved predetermined -malice. - -MR. MURRAY, Bookseller, Albemarle Street, Piccadilly. - - -CCXII. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY. - -[May, 1817.] - -DEAR SOUTHEY,--Mr. Ludwig Tieck[142] has continued to express so anxious a -wish to see you, as one man of genius sees another, that he will not lose -even the slight chance of possibility that you may not have quitted Paris -when he arrives there. I have only therefore (should this letter be -delivered to you by Mr. Tieck) to tell you--first, that Mr. Tieck is the -gentleman who was so kind to me at Rome; secondly, that he is a _good_ -man, emphatically, without taint of moral or religious infidelity; -thirdly, that as a poet, critic, and moralist, he stands (in -_reputation_) next to Goethe (and I believe that this reputation will be -_fame_); lastly, it will interest you with Bristol, Keswick, and Grasmere -associations, that Mr. Tieck has had to run, and has run, as nearly the -same career in Germany as yourself and Wordsworth and (by the spray of -being known to be intimate with you) - - Yours sincerely, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. Should this meet you, _for God's sake_, do let me know of your -arrival in London; it is so very important that I should see you. - - R. SOUTHEY, Esq. - Honoured by Mr. LUDWIG TIECK. - - -CCXIII. to H. C. Robinson.[143] - -June, 1817. - -MY DEAR ROBINSON,--I shall never forgive you if you do not try to make -some arrangement to bring Mr. L. Tieck and yourself up to Highgate very -soon. The day, the dinner-hour, you may appoint yourself; but what I most -wish would be, either that Mr. Tieck would come in the first stage, so as -either to walk or to be driven in Mr. Gillman's gig to Caen Wood, and its -delicious groves and alleys (the finest in England, a grand cathedral -aisle of _giant_ lime-trees, Pope's favourite composition walk when with -the old Earl, a brother-rogue of yours in the law line), or else to come -up to dinner, sleep here, and return (if then return he must) in the -afternoon four o'clock stage the day after. I should be most happy to make -him and that admirable man, Mr. Frere,[144] acquainted--their pursuits -have been so similar--and to convince Mr. Tieck that he is _the_ man among -us in whom taste at its maximum has vitalized itself into productive -power. [For] genius, you need only show him the incomparable translation -annexed to Southey's "Cid" (which, by the bye, would perhaps give Mr. -Tieck the most favourable impression of Southey's own powers); and I would -finish the work off by Mr. Frere's "Aristophanes." In _such_ GOODNESS, -too, as both _my_ Mr. Frere (the Right Hon. J. H. Frere), and his brother -George (the lawyer in Brunswick Square), live, move, and have their being, -there is _genius_. - -I have read two pages of "Lalla Rookh," or whatever it is called. Merciful -Heaven! I dare read no more, that I may be able to answer at once to any -questions, "I have but just looked at the work." O Robinson! if I could, -or if I dared, act and feel as Moore and his set do, what havoc could I -not make amongst their crockery-ware! Why, there are not three lines -together without some adulteration of common English, and the -ever-recurring blunder of using the possessive case, "_compassion's_ -tears," etc., for the preposition "of"--a blunder of which I have found no -instances earlier than Dryden's slovenly verses written for the trade. The -rule is, that the case _'s_ is always _personal_; either it marks a -person, or a personification, or the relique of some proverbial -personification, as "Who for their belly's sake," in "Lycidas." But for A -to weep the tears of B puts me in mind of the exquisite passage in -Rabelais where Pantagruel gives the page his cup, and begs him to go down -into the courtyard, and curse and swear for him about half an hour or so. - -God bless you! - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXIV. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -[July 22, 1817.] - -MY DEAR POOLE,--It was a great comfort to me to meet and part from you as -I did at Mr. Purkis's:[145] for, methinks, every true friendship that does -not go with us to heaven, must needs be an obstacle to our own going -thither,--to one of the parties, at all events. - -I entreat your acceptance of a corrected copy of my "Sibylline Leaves" and -"Literary Life;" and so wildly have they been printed, that a corrected -copy is of some value to those to whom the works themselves are of any. I -would that the misprinting had been the worst of the delusions and -ill-usage, to which my credulity exposed me, from the said printer. After -repeated promises that he took the printing, etc., merely to serve me as -an old schoolfellow, and that he should charge "one sixpence profit," he -charged paper, which I myself ordered for him at the paper-mill, at -twenty-five to twenty-six shillings per ream, at thirty-five shillings, -and, exclusive of this, his bill was £80 beyond the sum assigned by two -eminent London printers as the price at which they would be willing to -print the same quantity. And yet even this is among the minima of his -Bristol honesty. - -Fenner,[146] or rather his religious factotum, the Rev. T. Curtis, -ci-devant bookseller, and whose affected retirement from business is a -humbug, having got out of me a scheme for an Encyclopædia, which is the -admiration of all the Trade, flatter themselves that they can carry it on -by themselves. They refused to realise their promise to advance me £300 on -the pledge of my works (a proposal of their own) unless I would leave -Highgate and live at Camberwell. I took the advice of such friends as I -had the opportunity of consulting immediately, and after taking into -consideration the engagement into which I had entered, it was their -unanimous opinion that their breach of their promise was a very fortunate -circumstance, that it could not have been kept without the entire -sacrifice of all my powers, and, above all, of my health--in short, that I -could not in all human probability survive the first year. Mr. Frere -yesterday advised me strenuously to finish the "Christabel," to keep the -third volume of "The Friend" within a certain fathom of metaphysical -depth, but within that to make it as elevated as the subjects required, -and finally to devote myself industriously to the Works I had planned, -alternating a poem with a prose volume, and, unterrified by reviews on the -immediate sale, to remain confident that I should in some way or other be -enabled to live in comfort, above all, not to write any more in any -newspaper. He told me both Mr. Canning and Lord Liverpool had spoken in -very high terms of me, and advised me to send a copy of all my works with -a letter of some weight and length to the Marquis of Wellesley. He -offered me all his interest with regard to Derwent,[147] if he was sent to -Cambridge. "It is a point" (these were his words) "on which I should feel -myself authorised not merely to ask but to require and importune." - -Hartley has been with me for the last month. He is very much improved; -and, if I could see him more systematic in his studies and in the -employment of his time, I should have little to complain of in him or to -wish for. He is very desirous to visit the place of his infancy, poor -fellow! And I am very desirous, if it were practicable, that he should be -in the neighbourhood, as it were, of his uncles, so that there might be a -probability of one or the other inviting him to spend a few weeks of his -vacation at Ottery. His cousins[148] (the sons of my brothers James and -George) are very good and affectionate to him; and it is a great comfort -to me to see the chasm of the first generation closing and healing up in -the second. From the state of your sister-in-law's health, when I last saw -you, and the probable results of it, I cannot tell how your household is -situated. Otherwise, I should venture to entreat of you, that you would -give poor Hartley an invitation to pass a fortnight or three weeks with -you this vacation.[149] - -The object of the third volume of my "Friend," which will be wholly fresh -matter, is briefly this,--that morality without religion is as senseless a -scheme as religion without morality; that religion not revealed is a -contradiction in terms, and an historical nonentity; that religion is not -revealed unless the sacred books containing it are interpreted in the -obvious and literal sense of the word, and that, thus interpreted, the -doctrines of the Bible are in strict harmony with the Liturgy and Articles -of our Established Church. - -May God Almighty bless you, my dear Friend! and your obliged and -affectionately grateful - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXV. TO H. F. CARY.[150] - -LITTLE HAMPTON, October [29], 1817. - -I regret, dear sir! that a slave to the worst of tyrants (outward tyrants, -at least), the booksellers, I have not been able to read more than two -books and passages here and there of the other, of your translation of -Dante. You will not suspect me of the worthlessness of exceeding my real -opinion, but like a good Christian will make even modesty give way to -charity, though I say, that in the severity and _learned simplicity_ of -the diction, and in the peculiar character of the Blank Verse, it has -transcended what I should have thought possible without the Terza Rima. -In itself, the metre is, compared with any English poem of one quarter the -length, the most varied and harmonious to my ear of any since Milton, and -yet the effect is so Dantesque that to those who should compare it only -with other English poems, it would, I doubt not, have the same effect as -the Terza Rima has compared with other Italian metres. I would that my -literary influence were enough to secure the knowledge of the work for the -true lovers of poetry in general.[151] But how came it that you had it -published in so _too_ unostentatious a form? For a second or third -edition, the form has its conveniences; but for the first, in the present -state of English society, _quod non arrogas tibi, non habes_. If you have -any other works, poems, or poemata, by you, printed or MSS., you would -gratify me by sending them to me. In the mean time, accept in the spirit -in which it is offered, this trifling testimonial of my respect from, dear -sir, - - Yours truly, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXVI. TO THE SAME. - -LITTLE HAMPTON, SUSSEX, November 6, 1817. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I thank you for your kind and valued present, and equally -for the kind letter that accompanied it. What I expressed concerning your -translation, I did not say lightly or without examination: and I know -enough of myself to be confident that any feeling of personal partiality -would rather lead me to doubts and dissatisfactions respecting a -particular work in proportion as it might possibly occasion me to overrate -the man. For example, if, indeed, I do estimate too highly what I deem -the characteristic excellencies of Wordsworth's poems, it results from a -congeniality of taste without a congeniality in the productive power; but -to the faults and defects I have been far more alive than his detractors, -even from the first publication of the "Lyrical Ballads," though for a -long course of years my opinions were sacred to his own ear. Since my -last, I have read over your translation, and have carefully compared it -with my distinctest recollections of every specimen of blank verse I am -familiar with that can be called epic, narrative, or descriptive, -excluding only the dramatic, declamatory, and lyrical--with Cowper, -Armstrong, Southey, Wordsworth, Landor (the author of "Gebir"), and with -all of my own that fell within comparisons as above defined, especially -the passage from 287 to 292, "Sibylline Leaves,"[152]--and I find no other -alteration in my judgement but an additional confidence in it. I still -affirm that, to my ear and to my judgement, both your metre and your -rhythm have in a far greater degree than I know any instance of, the -variety of Milton without any mere Miltonisms, that (wherein I in the -passage referred to have chiefly failed) the verse has this variety -without any loss of _continuity_, and that this is the _excellence_ of the -work considered as a translation of Dante--that it gives the reader a -similar feeling of wandering and wandering, onward and onward. Of the -diction, I can only say that it is Dantesque even in that in which the -Florentine must be preferred to our English giant--namely, that it is not -only pure _language_, but pure _English_. The language differs from that -of a mother or a well-bred lady who had read little but her Bible, and a -few good books, only as far as the thoughts and things to be expressed -require learned words from a learned poet! Perhaps I may be thought to -appreciate this merit too highly; but you have seen what I have said in -defence of this in the "Literary Life." By the bye, there is no -_Publisher's_ name mentioned in the title-page. Should I place any number -of copies for you with Gale and Curtis, or at Murray's? - -Believe me, that it will be both a pleasure and a relief to my mind should -you bring with you any MSS. that you can yourself make it so as to read -them to me. - -Mrs. Gillman hopes, that, if choice or chance should lead you and yours -near Highgate, you will not deprive us of the opportunity of introducing -you to my excellent friend Mr. Gillman, and of shewing by our gladness how -much we are, my dear sir, yours and Mrs. Cary's sincere respecters, and I -beg you will accept an expression of particular esteem from your old -lecturer, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I return the "Prometheus" and the "Persæ" with thanks. I hope the -Cambridge Professor will go through the remaining plays of Æschylus. They -_are_ delightful editions. - - -CCXVII. TO J. H. GREEN.[153] - -HIGHGATE, Friday morning, November 14, 1817. - -DEAR SIR,--I arrived at Highgate from Little Hampton yester-night: and the -most interesting tidings I heard, were of your return and of your great -kindness ... I can only say that I will call in Lincoln's Inn Fields the -first day I am able to come to town--but should your occupation suffer you -to take me in any of your rides for exercise or relaxation, need I say -with what gladness I should welcome you? Our dinner-hour is four: but -alterable without inconvenience to earlier or later. As soon as I have -finished my present slave-work I shall write at large to Mr. Tieck. Be -pleased to present my respectful regards to Mrs. Green, and believe me, -dear sir, with marked esteem, - - Your obliged - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXVIII. TO THE SAME. - -[December 13, 1817.] - -MY DEAR SIR,--I thank you for the transcript. The lecture[154] went off -beyond my expectations; and in several parts, where the thoughts were the -same, more happily expressed extempore than in the Essay on the Science -of Method[155] for the "Encyclopædia Metropolitana." However, you shall -receive the first correct copy of the latter that I can procure. I would -that I could present it to _you_, as it was written; though I am not -inclined to quarrel with the judgment and prudence of omission, as far as -the public are concerned. Be assured, I shall not fail to avail myself of -your kind invitation, and that time passes happily with me under your -roof, receiving and returning. Be pleased to make my best respects to Mrs. -Green, and I beg her acceptance of the "Hebrew Dirge" with my free -translation,[156] of which I will, as soon as it is printed, send her the -music, viz. the original melody, and Bishop's additional music. Of this I -am convinced, that a dozen of such "very _pretty_," and "so _sweet_," and -"how smooth," "well, that is charming" compositions would gain me more -admiration with the English public than twice the number of poems twice as -good as the "Ancient Mariner," the "Christabel," the "Destiny of Nations," -or the "Ode to the Departing Year." - -My own opinion of the German philosophers does not greatly differ from -yours; much in several of them is unintelligible to me, and more -unsatisfactory. But I make a division. I reject Kant's _stoic_ principle, -as false, unnatural, and even immoral, where in his "Kritik der -praktischen Vernunft,"[157] he treats the affections as indifferent -([Greek: adiaphora]) in ethics, and would persuade us that a man who -disliking, and without any feeling of love for virtue, yet acted -virtuously, because and only because his _duty_, is more worthy of our -esteem, than the man whose _affections_ were aidant to and congruous with -his conscience. For it would imply little less than that things not the -objects of the moral will or under its control were yet indispensable to -its due practical direction. In other words, it would subvert his own -system. Likewise, his remarks on prayer in his "Religion innerhalb der -reinen Vernunft," are crass, nay vulgar and as superficial even in -psychology as they are low in taste. But with these exceptions, I -reverence Immanuel Kant with my whole heart and soul, and believe him to -be the only philosopher, for _all men_ who have the power of thinking. I -cannot conceive the liberal pursuit or profession, in which the service -derived from a patient study of his works would not be incalculably great, -both as cathartic, tonic, and directly nutritious. - -Fichte in his moral system is but a caricature of Kant's, or rather, he is -a Zeno, with the cowl, rope, and sackcloth of a Carthusian monk. His -metaphysics have gone by; but he hath merit of having prepared the ground -for, and laid the first stone of, the _dynamic_ philosophy by the -substitution of Act for Thing, _Der einführen Actionen statt der Dinge an -sich_. Of the _Natur-philosophen_, as far as physical dynamics are -concerned and as opposed to the mechanic corpuscular system, I think very -highly of _some_ parts of their system, as being _sound_ and -_scientific_--metaphysics of Quality, not less evident to _my_ reason than -the metaphysics of Quantity, that is, Geometry, etc.; of the rest and -larger part, as tentative, experimental, and highly useful to a chemist, -zoologist, and physiologist, as unfettering the mind, exciting its -inventive powers. But I must be understood as confining these -observations to the works of Schelling and H. Steffens. Of Schelling's -Theology and Theanthroposophy, the telescopic stars and nebulæ are too -many for my "_grasp of eye_." (N. B. The _catachresis_ is _Dryden's, not -mine_.) In short, I am half inclined to believe that both he and his -friend Francis Baader are but half in earnest, and paint the veil to hide -not the _face_ but the want of one.[158] Schelling is too ambitious, too -eager to be the Grand Seignior of the _allein-selig Philosophie_ to be -altogether a trustworthy philosopher. But he is a man of great genius; -and, however unsatisfied with his conclusions, one cannot read him without -being either _whetted_ or improved. Of the others, saving Jacobi, who is a -rhapsodist, excellent in sentences all in _small capitals_, I know either -nothing, or too little to form a judgement. As my opinions were formed -before I was acquainted with the schools of Fichte and Schelling, so do -they remain independent of them, though I con- and pro-fess great -obligations to them in the development of my thoughts, and yet seem to -feel that I should have been more _useful_ had I been left to evolve them -myself without knowledge of their coincidence. I do not _very much_ like -the Sternbald[159] of our friend; it is too like an imitation of Heinse's -"Ardinghello,"[160] and if the scene in the Painter's Garden at Rome is -less licentious than the correspondent abomination in the former work, it -is likewise duller. - -I have but merely looked into Jean Paul's "Vorschule der Aisthetik,"[161] -but I found one sentence almost word for word the same as one written by -myself in a fragment of an Essay on the Supernatural[162] many years ago, -viz. that the _presence_ of a ghost is the terror, not what he _does_, a -principle which Southey, too, overlooks in his "Thalaba" and "Kehama." - -But I must conclude. Believe me, dear sir, with unfeigned regard and -esteem, your obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -I expect my eldest son, Hartley Coleridge, to-day from Oxford. - - -CCXIX. TO CHARLES AUGUSTUS TULK.[163] - -HIGHGATE, Thursday evening, 1818. - -DEAR SIR,--As an innocent female often blushes not at any image which had -risen in her own mind, but from a confused apprehension of some _x y z_ -that might be attributed to her by others, so did I feel uncomfortable at -the odd coincidence of my commending to you the late Swedenborgian -advertisement. But when I came home I simply asked Mrs. G. if she -remembered my having read to her such an address. She instantly replied -not only in the affirmative, but mentioned the circumstance of my having -expressed a sort of half-inclination, half-intention of addressing a -letter to the chairman mentioning my receipt of a book of which I highly -approved, and requesting him to transmit my acknowledgments, if, as was -probable, the author was known to him or any of the gentlemen with him. I -asked her then if she had herself read the advertisement? "Yes, and I -carried it to Mr. Gillman, saying how much you had been pleased with the -style and the freedom from the sectarian spirit." "And do you recollect -the name of the Chairman?" "No! why, bless me! could it be Mr. Tulk?" Very -nearly the same conversation took place with Mr. Gillman afterwards. I can -readily account for the fact in myself; for first I never recollect any -persons by their names, and have fallen into some laughable perplexities -by this specific catalepsy of memory, such as accepting an invitation in -the streets from a face perfectly familiar to me, and being afterwards -unable to attach the name and habitat thereto; and secondly, that the -impression made by a conversation that appeared to me altogether -accidental and by your voice and person had been completed before I heard -your name; and lastly, the more habitual thinking is to any one, the -larger share has the relation of cause and effect in producing -recognition. But it is strange that neither Mrs. or Mr. Gillman should -have recollected the name, though probably the accidentality of having -made your acquaintance, and its being at Little Hampton, and associated -with our having at the same time and by a similar accidental rencontre -become acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Cary and his family, overlaid any -former relique of a man's name in Mrs. G. as well as myself. - -I return you Blake's poesies,[164] metrical and graphic, with thanks. -With this and the book, I have sent a rude scrawl as to the order in which -I was pleased by the several poems. - -With respectful compliments to Mrs. Tulk, I remain, dear sir, your obliged - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Thursday evening, Highgate. - -BLAKE'S POEMS.--I begin with my dyspathies that I may forget them, and -have uninterrupted space for loves and sympathies. Title-page and the -following emblem contain all the faults of the drawings with as few -beauties as could be in the compositions of a man who was capable of such -faults and such beauties. The faulty despotism in symbols amounting in the -title-page to the [Greek: misêton], and occasionally, irregular unmodified -lines of the inanimate, sometimes as the effect of rigidity and sometimes -of exossation like a wet tendon. So likewise the ambiguity of the drapery. -Is it a garment or the body incised and scored out? The lumpness (the -effect of vinegar on an egg) in the upper one of the two prostrate figures -in the title-page, and the straight line down the waistcoat of pinky -goldbeaters' skin in the next drawing, with the I don't-know-whatness of -the countenance, as if the mouth had been formed by the habit of placing -the tongue not contemptuously, but stupidly, between the lower gums and -the lower jaw--these are the only _repulsive_ faults I have noticed. The -figure, however, of the second leaf, abstracted from the _expression_ of -the countenance given it by something about the mouth, and the interspace -from the lower lip to the chin, is such as only a master learned in his -art could produce. - -_N. B._ I signifies "It gave me great pleasure." [I], "Still greater." -[II], "And greater still," [OH], "In the highest degree." O, "In the -lowest." - -Shepherd, I; Spring, I (last stanza, [I]); Holy Thursday, [II]; Laughing -Song, [I]; Nurse's Song, I; The Divine Image, [OH]; The Lamb, [I]; The -little black Boy, [OH] yea [OH+OH]; Infant Joy, [II] (N. B. For the three -last lines I should write, "When wilt thou smile," or "O smile, O smile! -I'll sing the while." For a babe two days old does not, cannot smile, and -innocence and the very truth of Nature must go together. Infancy is too -holy a thing to be ornamented). "The Echoing Green," I, (the figures [I], -and of the second leaf, [II]); "The Cradle Song," I; "The School Boy," -[II]; Night, [OH]; "On another's Sorrow," I; "A Dream," ?; "The little boy -lost," I (the drawing, [I]); "The little boy found," I; "The Blossom," O; -"The Chimney Sweeper," O; "The Voice of the Ancient Bard," O. - -Introduction, [I]; Earth's Answer, [I]; Infant Sorrow, I; "The Clod and -the Pebble," I; "The Garden of Love," [I]; "The Fly," I; "The Tyger," [I]; -"A little boy lost," [I]; "Holy Thursday," I; [p. 13, O; "Nurse's Song," -O?]; "The little girl lost and found" (the ornaments most exquisite! the -poem, I); "Chimney Sweeper in the Snow," O; "To Tirzah, and the Poison -Tree," I--and yet O; "A little Girl lost," O. (I would have had it -omitted, not for the want of innocence in the poem, but from the too -probable want of it in many readers.) "London," I; "The Sick Rose," I; -"The little Vagabond," =O=. Though I cannot approve altogether of this -last poem, and have been inclined to think that the error which is most -likely to beset the scholars of Emanuel Swedenborg is that of utterly -demerging the tremendous incompatibilities with an evil will that arise -out of the essential Holiness of the abysmal A-seity[165] in the love of -the Eternal _Person_, and thus giving temptation to weak minds to sink -this love itself into _Good Nature_, yet still I disapprove the mood of -mind in this wild poem so much less than I do the servile blind-worm, -wrap-rascal scurf-coat of _fear_ of the _modern_ Saint (whose whole being -is a lie, to themselves as well as to their brethren), that I should laugh -with good conscience in watching a Saint of the new stamp, one of the -first stars of our eleemosynary advertisements, groaning in wind-pipe! and -with the whites of his eyes upraised at the _audacity_ of this poem! -Anything rather than this degradation =I= of Humanity, and therein of the -Incarnate Divinity! - - S. T. C. - -=O= means that I am perplexed and have no opinion. - -=I=, with which how can we utter "Our Father"? - - -CCXX. TO J. H. GREEN. - -Spring Garden Coffee House, [May 2, 1818.] - -MY DEAR SIR,--Having been detained here till the present hour, and under -requisition for Monday morning early, I have decided on not returning to -Highgate in the interim. I propose, therefore, to have the pleasure of -passing the fore-dinner hours, from eleven o'clock to-morrow morning, with -you in Lincoln's Inn Square, unless I should hear from you to the -contrary. - -The Cotton-children Bill[166] (an odd irony to children _bred up in -cotton_!) which has passed the House of Commons, would not, I suspect, -have been discussed at all in the House of Lords, but have been quietly -assented to, had it not afforded that _Scotch_ coxcomb, the plebeian Earl -of Lauderdale,[167] too tempting an occasion for displaying his muddy -three inch depths in the gutter (? Guttur) of his Political Economy. -Whether some half-score of rich capitalists are to be prevented from -suborning suicide and perpetuating infanticide and soul-murder is, -forsooth, the most perplexing question which has ever called forth his -_determining_ faculties, accustomed as they are _well known_ to have been, -to grappling with difficulties. In short, he wants to make a speech almost -as much as I do to have a release signed by conscience from the duty of -making or anticipating answers to such speeches. - - O when the heart is deaf and blind, how blear - The lynx's eye! how dull the mould-warp's ear! - -Verily the _World_ is mighty! and for all but the few the orb of Truth -labours under eclipse from the shadow of the world! - -With kind respects to Mrs. Green, believe me, my dear sir, with sincere -and affectionate esteem, - - Yours, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXI. TO MRS. GILLMAN. - - J. Green's, Esq., St. Lawrence, nr. Maldon, - Wednesday, July 19, 1818. - -MY VERY DEAR SISTER AND FRIEND,--The distance from the post and the -extraordinary thinness of population in this district (especially of men -and women of letters) which affords only two days in the seven for sending -to or receiving from Maldon, are the sole causes of your not hearing -oftener from me. The cross roads from Margretting Street to the very house -are excellent, and through the first gate we drove up between two large -gardens, that on the right a flower and fruit garden not without -kitchenery, and that on the left, a kitchen garden not without fruits and -flowers, and both in a perfect _blaze_ of roses. Yet so capricious is our, -at least my, nature, that I feel I do not receive the fifth part of the -delight from this miscellany of Flora, flowers at every step, as from the -economized glasses and flower-pots at Highgate so tended and worshipped by -me, and each the gift of some kind friend or courteous neighbour. I -actually make up a flower-pot every night, in order to imitate my Highgate -pleasures. The country road is very beautiful. About a quarter of a mile -from the garden, all the way through beautiful fields in blossom, we come -to a wood, full of birds and not uncharmed by the nightingales, and which -the old workman, to please his mistress, has _romanticised_ with, I dare -say, fifty seats and honeysuckle bowers and green arches made by twisting -the branches of the trees across the paths. The view from the hilly field -above the wood commanding the arm of the sea, and ending in the open sea, -reminded me very much of the prospects from Stowey and Alfoxden, in -Somersetshire. The cottagers seem to be and are in possession of plenty of -comfort. Poverty I have seen no marks of, nor of the least servility, -though they are courteous and respectful. We have _abundance of cream_. -The Farm must, I should think, be a valuable estate; and the parents are -anxious to leave it as complete as possible for Joseph, their only child -(for it is Mrs. J. Green's sisters that we have seen--G. himself has no -sister). There is no society hereabouts. I like it the better there_fore_. -The clergyman, a young man, is lost in a gloomy vulgar Calvinism, will -read no book but the Bible, converse on nothing but the state of the soul, -or rather he will not converse at all, but visit each house once in two -months, when he prays and admonishes, and gives a lecture every evening at -his own rooms. On being invited to dine with us, the sad and modest youth -returned for answer, that if Mr. Green and I should be here when he -visited the house, he should have no objection to enter into the state of -our souls with us, and if in the mean time we desired any _instruction_ -from him, we might attend at his daily evening lecture! Election, -Reprobation, Children of the Devil, and all such flowers of rhetoric, and -flour of brimstone, form his discourses both in church and parlour. But my -folly in not filling the snuff canister is a subject of far more serious -and awful regret with me, than the not being in the way of being thus led -by the nose of this Pseudo-Evangelist. Nothing but Scotch; and that five -miles off. O Anne! it was cruel in you not to have calculated the -monstrous disproportion between the huge necessities of my nostrils, or -rather of my thumb and forefinger, and that vile little vial three fourths -empty of snuff! The flat of my thumb, yea, the nail of my forefinger is -not only clean; it is white! white as the pale flag of famine![168] - -Now for my health.... Ludicrous as it may seem, yet it is no joke for me, -that from the marshiness of these sea marshes, and the number of -unnecessary fish ponds and other stagnancies immediately around the house, -the gnats are a very plague of Egypt, and suspicious, with good reason, of -an erysipelatous tendency, I am anxious concerning the effects of the -irritation produced by these canorous visitants. While awake (and two -thirds of last night I was kept awake by their bites and trumpetings) I -can so far command myself as to check the intolerable itching by a weak -mixture of goulard and rosewater; but in my sleep I scratch myself as if -old Scratch had lent me his best set of claws. This is the only drawback -from my comforts here, for nothing can be kinder or more cordial than my -treatment. I _like_ Mrs. J. Green better and better; but feel that in -twenty years it would never be above or beyond _liking_. She is -good-natured, lively, innocent, but without a _soothingness_, or something -I do not know what that is tender. As to my return, I do not think it will -be possible, without great unkindness, to be with you before Tuesday -evening or Wednesday, calculating _wholly_ by the progress of the -manuscript; and we have been hard at it. Do not take it as words, of -course, when I say and solemnly assure you, that if I followed my own -_wishes_, I should leave this place on Saturday morning: for I feel more -and more that I can be well off nowhere away from you and Gillman. May God -bless him! For a dear friend he is and has been to be. Remember me -affectionately to the Milnes and Betsy, if they are at Highgate. Love to -James. Kisses for the Fish of Five Waters,[169] none of which are -stagnant, and I hope that Mary, Dinah, and Lucy are well, and that Mary is -quite recovered. Again and again and again, God bless you, my most dear -friends; for I am, and ever trust to remain, more than can be expressed, -my dear Anne! your affectionate, obliged, and grateful - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. _Not_ to put Essex after Maldon. - - -CCXXII. TO W. COLLINS, ESQ., A. R. A. - -HIGHGATE, December, 1818. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I at once comply with, and thank you for, your request to -have some prospectuses. God knows I have so few friends, that it would be -unpardonable in me not to feel proportionably grateful towards those few -who think the time not wasted in which they interest themselves in my -behalf. There is an old Latin adage, _Vis videri pauper, et pauper es_! -Poor you profess yourself to be, and poor therefore you are, and will -remain. The prosperous feel only with the prosperous, and if you subtract -from the whole sum of their feeling for all the gratifications of vanity, -and all their calculations of _lending to the Lord_, both of which are -best answered by confessing the superfluity of their superfluities on -advertised and advertisable distress, or on such cases as are known to be -in all respects their inferior, you will have, I fear, but a scanty -remainder. All this is too true; but then, what is that man to do whom no -distress can bribe to swindle or deceive? who cannot reply as Theophilus -Cibber did to his father, Colley Cibber, who, seeing him in a rich suit of -clothes whispered to him as he passed, "The! The! I pity thee!" "Pity me! -pity my tailor!" - -Spite of the decided approbation which my plan of delivering lectures has -received from several judicious and highly respectable individuals, it is -still too histrionic, too much like a retail dealer in instruction and -pastime, not to be depressing. If the duty of living were not far more -awful to my conscience than life itself is agreeable to my feelings, I -should sink under it. But, getting nothing by my publications, which I -have not the power of making estimable by the public without loss of -self-estimation, what can I do? The few who have won the present age, -while they have secured the praise of posterity, as Sir Walter Scott, Mr. -Southey, Lord Byron, etc., have been in happier circumstances. And -lecturing is the only means by which I can enable myself to go on at all -with the great philosophical work to which the best and most genial hours -of the last twenty years of my life have been devoted. Poetry is out of -the question. The attempt would only hurry me into that sphere of acute -feelings from which abstruse research, the mother of self-oblivion, -presents an asylum. Yet sometimes, spite of myself, I cannot help bursting -out into the affecting exclamation of our Spenser (his "wine" and "ivy -garland" interpreted as competence and joyous circumstances):-- - - "Thou kenn'st not, Percy, how the rhyme should cage! - Oh, if my temples were bedewed with wine, - And girt with garlands of wild ivy-twine, - How I could rear the Muse on stately stage! - And teach her tread aloft in buskin fine, - With queen'd Bellona in her equipage! - But ah, my courage cools ere it be warm!"[170] - -But God's will be done. To feel the full force of the Christian religion -it is, perhaps, necessary for many tempers that they should first be made -to feel, experimentally, the hollowness of human friendship, the -presumptuous emptiness of human hopes. I find more substantial comfort now -in pious George Herbert's "Temple," which I used to read to amuse myself -with his quaintness, in short, only to laugh at, than in all the poetry -since the poems of Milton. If you have not read Herbert, I can recommend -the book to you confidently. The poem entitled "The Flower" is especially -affecting; and, to me, such a phrase as "and relish versing" expresses a -sincerity, a reality, which I would unwillingly exchange for the more -dignified "and once more love the Muse," etc. And so, with many other of -Herbert's homely phrases. - -We are all anxious to hear from, and of, our excellent transatlantic -friend.[171] I need not repeat that your company, with or without our -friend Leslie,[172] will gratify - - Your sincere - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXIII. TO THOMAS ALLSOP. - -The origin of Coleridge's friendship with Thomas Allsop, a young city -merchant, dates from the first lecture which he delivered at Flower de -Luce Court, January 27, 1818. A letter from Allsop containing a "judicious -suggestion" with regard to the subject advertised, "The Dark Ages of -Europe," was handed to the lecturer, who could not avail himself of the -hint on this occasion, but promised to do so before the close of the -series. Personal intercourse does not seem to have taken place till a year -later, but from 1819 to 1826 Coleridge and Allsop were close and intimate -friends. In 1825 the correspondence seems to have dropped, but I am not -aware that then or afterwards there was any breach of friendship. In 1836 -Allsop published the letters which he had received from Coleridge. Partly -on account of the personal allusions which some of the letters contain, -and partly because it would seem that Coleridge expressed himself to his -young disciple with some freedom on matters of religious opinion, the -publication of these letters was regarded by Coleridge's friends as an act -of _mala fides_. Allsop was kindness itself to Coleridge, but, no doubt, -the allusions to friends and children, which were of a painful and private -nature, ought, during their lifetime at least, to have been omitted. The -originals of many of these letters were presented by the Allsop family to -the late Emperor of Brazil, an enthusiastic student and admirer of -Coleridge.[173] - - -December 2, 1818. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I cannot express how kind I felt your letter. Would to -Heaven I had had many with feelings like yours, "accustomed to express -themselves warmly and (as far as the word is applicable to you, even) -enthusiastically." But, alas! during the prime manhood of my intellect I -had nothing but cold water thrown on my efforts. I speak not now of my -systematic and most unprovoked maligners. On _them_ I have retorted only -by pity and by prayer. These may have, and doubtless _have_, joined with -the frivolity of "the reading public" in checking and almost in preventing -the sale of my works; and so far have done injury to my _purse_. _Me_ they -have not injured. But I have loved with enthusiastic self-oblivion those -who have been so well pleased that I should, year after year, flow with a -hundred nameless rills into _their_ main stream, that they could find -nothing but cold praise and effective discouragement of every attempt of -mine to roll onward in a distinct current of my own; who _admitted_ that -the "Ancient Mariner," the "Christabel," the "Remorse," and some pages of -"The Friend" were not without merit, but were abundantly anxious to -acquit their judgements of any blindness to the very numerous defects. Yet -they _knew_ that to _praise_, as mere praise, I was characteristically, -almost constitutionally, indifferent. In sympathy alone I found at once -nourishment and stimulus; and for sympathy _alone_ did my heart crave. -They knew, too, how long and faithfully I had acted on the maxim, never to -admit the _faults_ of a work of genius to those who denied or were -incapable of feeling and understanding the _beauties_; not from wilful -partiality, but as well knowing that in _saying_ truth I should, to such -critics, convey falsehood. If, in one instance, in my literary life, I -have appeared to deviate from this rule, first, it was not till the fame -of the writer (which I had been for fourteen years successively toiling -like a second Ali to build up) had been established; and, secondly and -chiefly, with the purpose and, I may safely add, with the _effect_ of -rescuing the necessary task from malignant defamers, and in order to set -forth the excellences and the trifling proportion which the defects bore -to the excellences. But this, my dear sir, is a mistake to which -affectionate natures are liable, though I do not remember to have ever -seen it noticed, the mistaking those who are desirous and well-pleased to -be loved _by_ you, for those who love you. Add, as a mere general cause, -the fact that I neither am nor ever have been of any party. What wonder, -then, if I am left to decide which has been my worse enemy,--the broad, -predetermined abuse of the "Edinburgh Review," etc., or the cold and brief -compliments, with the warm _regrets_ of the "Quarterly"? After all, -however, I have now but one sorrow relative to the ill success of my -literary toils (and toils they have been, _though not undelightful -toils_), and this arises wholly from the almost insurmountable -difficulties which the anxieties of to-day oppose to my completion of the -great work, the form and materials of which it has been the employment of -the best and most genial hours of the last twenty years to mature and -collect. - -If I could but have a tolerably numerous audience to my first, or first -and second Lectures on the History of Philosophy,[174] I should entertain -a strong hope of success, because I know that these lectures will be found -by far the most interesting and _entertaining_ of any that I have yet -delivered, independent of the more permanent interests of rememberable -instruction. Few and unimportant would the errors of men be, if they did -but know, first, _what they themselves meant_; and, secondly, what the -_words_ mean by which they attempt to convey their meaning; and I can -conceive no subject so well fitted to exemplify the mode and the -importance of these two points as the History of Philosophy, treated as in -the scheme of these lectures. Trusting that I shall shortly have the -pleasure of seeing you here, - - I remain, my dear sir, yours most sincerely, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXIV. TO J. H. GREEN. - -[Postmark, January 16, 1819.] - -MY DEAR GREEN,--I forgot both at the Lecture Room and at Mr. Phillips's to -beg you to leave out for me Goethe's "Zur Farbenlehre." It is for a -passage in the preface in which he compares Plato with Aristotle, etc., as -far as I recollect, in a spirited manner. The books are at your service -again, after the lecture. Either Mr. Cary or some messenger will call for -them to-morrow! I piously resolve on Tuesday to put my books in some -order, but at all events to select yours and send all of them that I do -not want (and I do not recollect any that I do, unless perhaps the little -volume edited by Tieck of his friend's composition), back to you. I am -more and more delighted with Chantrey. The little of his conversation -which I enjoyed _ex pede Herculem_, left me no doubt of the power of his -insight. Light, manlihood, simplicity, wholeness. These are the -_entelechy_ of Phidian Genius; and who but must see these in Chantrey's -solar face, and in all his manners? Item: I am bewitched with your wife's -portrait. So _very_ like and yet so ideal a portrait I never remember to -have seen. But as Mr. Phillips[175] said: "Why, sir! she was a sweet -subject, sir! That's a _great_ thing." - -As to my own, I can form no judgment. In its present state, the eyes -appear too large, too globose, and their colour must be made lighter, and -I thought that the face, exclusive of the forehead, was stronger, more -energetic than mine seems to be when I catch it in the glass, and -therefore the forehead and brow less so--not in themselves, but in -consequence of the proportion. But of course I can form no notion of what -my face and look may be when I am animated in friendly conversation. My -kind and respectful remembrances to your Mother, and believe me, most -affectionately, - - Your obliged friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXV. TO JAMES GILLMAN. - -[Ramsgate, Postmark, August 20, 1819.] - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--Whether from the mere intensity of the heat, and the -restless, almost sleepless, nights in consequence, or from incautious -exposure to draughts; or whether simply the change of air and the sea bath -was repairing the intestinal canal (and bad indeed must the road be which -is not better than a _road a-mending_, a _hint which our revolutionary -reformers_ would do well to attend to) or from whatever cause, I have been -miserably unwell for the last three days--but last night passed a -tolerably good night, and, finding myself convalescent this morning, I -bathed, and now am still better, having had a glorious tumble in the -waves, though the water is still not cold enough for my liking. The -weather, however, is evidently on the change, and we have now a succession -of flying April showers, and needle rains. My bath is about a mile and a -quarter from the Lime Grove, a wearisome travail by the deep crumbly -sands, but a very pleasant breezy walk along the top of the cliff, from -which you descend through a deep steep lane cut through the chalk rocks. -The tide comes up to the end of the lane, and washes the cliff, but a -little before or a little after high-tide there are nice clean seats of -rock with foot-baths, and then an expanse of sand, greater than I need; -and exactly a hundred of my strides from the end of the lane there is a -good, roomy, arched cavern, with an oven or cupboard in it, where one's -clothes may be put free from the sand.... I find that I can write no more -if I am to send this by the to-day's post. Pray, _if_ you can with _any -sort_ of propriety, do come down to me--to us, I suppose I ought to say. -We are all as should be [Greek: But monstrousli phormal].... - - God bless you and - S. T. C. - - -CCXXVI. TO MRS. ADERS. [?][176] - -[HIGHGATE, October 28, 1819.] - -DEAR MADAM,--I wish from my very heart that you could teach me to express -my obligations to you with half the grace and delicacy with which you -confer them! But not to the Giver does the evening cloud indicate the rich -lights, which it has received and transmits and yet retains. For _other_ -eyes it must glow: and what it cannot _return_ it will strive to -_represent_, the poor proxy of the gracious orb which is departing. I -would that the simile were less accurate throughout, and with those of -Homer's lost its likeness as it approached to its conclusion! This, I -fear, is somewhat too selfish; but we cannot have attachment without fear -or grief. - - "We cannot choose-- - But weep to have what we so dread to lose," - -says Nature's child, our best Shakespeare; and that Humanity cannot grieve -without a portion of selfishness, Nature herself says. To take up my -allegoric strain with a slight variation, even in the fairest shews and -liveliest demonstrations of grateful and affectionate leave-taking from a -generous friend or disinterested patron or benefactor, we are like -evening rainbows, that at once shine and weep, things made up of reflected -splendour and our own tears.[177] - - To meet, to know, t' esteem--and then to part, - Forms the sad tale of many a genial heart.[178] - -The storm[179] now louring and muttering in our political atmosphere might -of itself almost forbid me to regret your leaving England. For I have no -apprehension of any serious or extensive danger to property or to the -_coercive_ powers of the Law. Both reason and history preclude the fear of -any _revolution_, where none of the constituent _states_ of a nation are -arrayed against the others. The risk is still less in Great Britain where -property is so widely diffused and so closely interlinked and -co-organized. But I dare not promise as much for _personal_ safety. The -struggle may be short, the event certain; yet the mischief in the interim -_appalling_! - - May my Fears, - My filial fears, be vain! and may the vaunts - And menace of the vengeful enemy - Pass like the gust, that roared and died away - In the distant tree: which heard, and only heard - In this low dell, bow'd not the delicate grass.[180] - -I confess that I read the poem from which these lines are extracted -("Fears in Solitude") and now cite them with far other than an _author's_ -feelings; those, I _trust_, of a patriot, I am _sure_, those of a -Christian. - -You will not, I know, fail to assure Miss Harding[181] of the kind -feelings and wishes with which I accompany her; but my sense of the last -boon, which I owe to her, I shall convey, my dear madam! by hands less -likely to make extenuating comments on my words than _your_ tongue or -hand. Before I subscribe my name, I must tell you that had my wish been -the chooser and had taken a month to deliberate on the choice, I could not -have received a keepsake so in all respects gratifying to me, as the -_exquisite_ impressions of cameo's and intaglio's.[182] First, it enables -me to entertain and gratify so many friends, my own and Mr. and Mrs. -Gillman's; secondly, every little gem is associated with my recollections, -or more or less recalls the images and persons seen and met with during my -own stay in the Mediterranean and Italy; thirdly, they stand in the same -connection with the places of _your_ past and future sojourn, and -therefore, lastly, supply me with the means and the occasion of expressing -to others more strongly, perhaps, but not more warmly or sincerely than I -now do to yourself, with how much respect and regard I remain, dear madam, - - Your obliged friend and servant, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Saturday, 28th Octr. 1819. On the 20th of this month completed my 49th -year. - - -CCXXVII. TO J. H. GREEN. - -January 14, 1820. - -MY DEAR GREEN,--Charles Lamb has just written to inform me that he and his -sister will pay me their _New Year's_ visit on Sunday next, and may -perhaps bring a friend to see _me_, though certainly not to dine, and -hopes I may not be engaged. I must therefore defer our _philosophical_ -intercommune till the Sunday after; but if you have no more pleasant way -of passing the ante-prandial or, still better, the day including prandial -and post-prandial, I trust that it will be no anti-philosophical -expenditure of time, and I need not say an addition to the pleasure of all -this household. I should like, too, to arrange some plan of going with you -to Covent Garden Theatre, to see Miss Wensley, the new actress, whose -father (a merchant of Bristol, at whose house I had once been, but whom -the capricious Nymph of Trade has unhorsed from his seat) has called on -me, a compound of the Oratorical, the Histrionic, and the Exquisite! All -the dull colours in the colour-shop at the sign of the Bluecoat Boy would -not suffice to neutralize the glare of his _Colorit_ into any tolerably -fair likeness that would not be scouted as Caricature! Gillman will give -you a slight sketch of him. Since I saw you, we have dined and spent the -night (for it was near one when we broke up) at Mathews', and heard and -saw his forthcoming "At Home." There were present, besides G. and myself, -Mrs. and young Mathews, and Mr. and Mrs. Chisholm, James Smith of Rej. -Add. notoriety, and the author of (all the trash of) Mathews' -Entertainment, for the good parts are his own, (What a pity that you dare -not offer a word of friendly sensible advice to such men as M., but you -may be certain that it will be useless to them and attributed to envy or -some vile selfish object in the adviser!) Mr. Dubois,[183] the author -of "Vaurien," "Old Nic," "My Pocket Book," and a notable share of the -theatrical puffs and slanders of the periodical press; and, lastly, Mr. -Thomas Hill,[184] quondam drysalter of Thames Street, whom I remember -twenty-five years ago with exactly the same look, person, and manners as -now. Mathews calls him the Immutable. He is a seemingly always -good-natured fellow who knows nothing and about everything, no person, and -about and all about everybody--a complete parasite, in the old sense of a -dinner-hunter, at the tables of all who entertain public men, authors, -players, fiddlers, booksellers, etc., for more than thirty years. It was a -pleasant evening, however. - -[Illustration] - -Be so good as to remember the drawing from the Alchemy Book. - -Mrs. Gillman desires her love to Mrs. Green; and we hope that the twin -obstacles, ague and the boreal weather, to our seeing her here, will -vanish at the same time. Mrs. G. bids me tell her that she grumbles at the -doctors, her husband included, and is confident that _her_ husband would -have made a cure long ago. A faithful wife is a common blessing, I trust: -but what a treasure to have a wife _full_ of _faith_! By the bye, I have -lit on some ([Greek: hôs emoige dokei] _analogous_) cases in which the -nauseating plan, even for a short time, appears to have had a wonderful -effect in breaking the chain of a morbid tendency; and the almost -infallible specific of seasickness in curing an old ague is surely a -confirmation as far as it goes. - - Yours most affectionately, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXVIII. TO THE SAME. - -[May 25, 1820.] - -MY DEAR GREEN,--I was greatly affected in finding how ill you had been, -and long ere this should have let you know it, but that I have myself been -in no usual degree unwell. I wish I could with truth underline the words -_have been_, and in the hope of being able to do so it was that I delayed -answering your note. Unless a speedy change for the better takes place, I -should culpably deceive myself if I did not interpret my present state as -a _summons_. God's will be done! I cannot pretend that I have not received -countless warnings; and for my neglect and for the habits, and all the -feebleness and wastings of the moral will which unfit the soul for -spiritual ascent, and must sink it, of moral necessity, lower and lower, -if it be essentially imperishable, my only ray of hope is this, that in my -inmost heart, as far as my consciousness can sound its depths, I plead -nothing but my utter and sinful helplessness and worthlessness on one -side, and the infinite mercy and divine Humanity of our Creator and -Redeemer crucified from the beginning of the world, on the other! I use no -comparatives, nor indeed could I ever charitably interpret the penitential -phrases ("I am the vilest of sinners, worse than the wickedest of my -fellow-men," etc.) otherwise than as figures of speech, the whole purport -of which is, "In relation to God I appear to myself the same as the very -worst man, if such there be, would appear to an earthly tribunal." I mean -no comparatives; for what have a man's permanent concerns to do with -comparison? What avails it to a bird shattered and irremediably -disorganized in one wing, that another bird is similarly conditioned in -both wings? Or to a man in the last stage of ulcerated lungs, that his -neighbour is liver-rotten as well as consumptive? Both find their -equation, the birds as to flight, the men as to life. In o o o's there is -no comparison. - -My nephew, the Revd. W. Hart Coleridge, came and stayed here from Monday -afternoon to Tuesday noon, in order to make Derwent's acquaintance, and -brought with him by accident Marsh's Divinity Lecture, No 3rd, on the -authenticity and credibility of the Books collected in the New Testament. -As I could not sit with the party after tea, I took the pamphlet with me -into my bedroom, and gave it an attentive perusal, knowing the Bishop's -intimate acquaintance with the investigations of Eichhorn, Paulus, and -their numerous scarcely less celebrated scholars, and myself familiar with -the works of the Göttingen Professor (Eichhorn), the founder and head of -the daring school. I saw or seemed to see more _management_ in the Lecture -than proof of thorough conviction. I supplied, however, from my own -reasonings enough of what appeared wanting or doubtful in the Bishop's to -justify the conclusion that the Gospel _History_ beginning with the -Baptism of John, and the Doctrines contained in the fourth Gospel, and in -the Epistles, truly represent the assertions of the Apostles and the faith -of the Christian Church during the first century; that there exists no -tenable or even tolerable ground for doubting the _authenticity_ of the -Books ascribed to John the Evangelist, to Mark, to Luke, and to Paul; nor -the _authority_ of Matthew and the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews; -and lastly, that a man need only have common sense and a good heart to be -assured that these Apostles and Apostolic men wrote nothing but what they -themselves _believed_. And yet I have no hesitation in avowing that many -an argument derived from the nature of man, nay, that many a strong though -only _speculative_ probability, pierces deeper, pushes more home, and -clings more pressingly to my mind than the whole sum of merely _external_ -evidence, the _fact_ of Christianity itself alone excepted. Nay, I feel -that the external evidence derives a great and lively accession of force, -for my mind, from my previous speculative convictions or presumptions; but -that I cannot find that the latter are at all strengthened or made more or -less probable to me by the former. Besides, as to the external evidence I -make up my mind _once for all_, and merely _as_ evidence think no more -about it; but those facts or reflections thereon which tend to change -belief into insight, can never lose their effect, any more than the -distinctive _sensations_ of disease, compared with a more _perceived_ -correspondence of symptoms with the diagnostics of a medical book. - -I was led to this remark by reflecting on the awful importance of the -physiological question (so generally decided one way by the late most -popular writers on insanity), Does the efficient cause of disease and -disordered action, and, collectively, of pain and perishing, lie entirely -in the organs, and then, reawakening the active principle in me, -depart--that all pain and disease would be removed, and I should stand in -the same state as I stood in previous to all sickness, etc., to the -admission of any disturbing forces into my nature? Or, on the contrary, -would such a repaired Organismus be no fit organ for my life, as if, for -instance, a _worn_ lock with an equally worn key--[the key] might no -longer fit the lock. The repaired organs might from intimate -in-correspondence be the causes of torture and madness. A system of -materialism, in which organisation stands first, whether compared by -Nature, or God and Life, etc., as its _results_ (even as the sound is the -result of a bell), such a system would, doubtless, remove great part of -the terrors which the soul makes out of itself; but then it removes the -soul too, or rather precludes it. And a supposition of coexistence, -without any _wechselwirkung_, it is not in our power to adopt in good -earnest; or, if we did, it would answer no purpose. For which of the two, -soul or body, am I to call "I"? Again, a soul separate from the body, and -yet _entirely passive_ to it, would be so like a drum playing a tattoo on -the drummer, that one cannot build any _hope_ on it. If then the -organisation be primarily the _result_, and only by reaction a _cause_, it -would be well to consider what the cases are in this life, in which the -restoration of the organisation removes disease. Is the organisation ever -restored, except as continually reproduced? And in the remaining number -are they not cases into which the soul never entered as a _conscious_ or -rather a moral _conscionable_ agent? The regular reproduction of scars, -marks, etc., the increased susceptibility of disease in an organ, after a -perfect apparent restoration to healthy structure in action; the -insusceptibility in other cases, as in the variolous--these and many -others are fruitful subjects, and even imperfect as the induction may be, -and must be in our present degree of knowledge, we might yet deduce that a -suicide, under the domination of disorderly passions and erroneous -principles, plays a desperately hazardous game, and that the chance is, he -may re-house himself in a worse hogshead, with the nails and spikes driven -inward--or, sinking below the organising power, be employed fruitlessly in -a horrid _appetite_ of re-skinning himself, after he had succeeded in -_fleaing_ his life and leaving all its sensibilities bare to the incursive -powers without even the cortex of a nerve to shield them? Would it not -follow, too, from these considerations, that a redemptive power must be -necessary if immortality be true, and man be a disordered being? And that -no power can be redemptive which does not at the same time act in the -ground of the life as one with the ground, that is, must act in my will -and not merely _on_ my will; and yet extrinsically, as an outward power, -that is, as that which _outward_ Nature is to the organisation, viz. the -_causa correspondens et conditio perpetua ab extra_? Under these views, I -cannot read the Sixth Chapter of St. John without great emotion. The -Redeemer cannot be _merely_ God, unless we adopt Pantheism, that is, deny -the existence of a God; and yet God he must be, for whatever is less than -God, may act _on_, but cannot act in, the will of another. Christ must -become man, but he cannot become _us_, except as far as we become _him_, -and this we cannot do but by _assimilation_; and assimilation is a _vital -real_ act, not a notional or merely intellective one. There are phenomena, -which are phenomena relatively to our present five senses, and these -Christ forbids us to understand as his meaning, and, collectively, they -are entitled the Flesh that perishes. But does it follow that there are no -other phenomena? or that these media of manifestation might not stand to a -spiritual world and to our enduring life in the same relation as our -visible mass of body stands to the world of the senses, and to the -sensations correspondent to, and excited by, the stimulants of that world. -Lastly, would not the sum of the latter phenomena (the spiritual) be -appropriately named, the Flesh and Blood of the divine Humanity? If faith -be a mere apperception, _eine blösse Wahrnehmung_, this, I grant, is -senseless. For it is evident, that the assimilation in question is to be -carried on by faith. But if faith be an energy, a positive act, and that -too an _act_ of intensest power, why should it necessarily differ _in toto -genere_ from any other _act_, _ex. gr._ from that of the animal life in -the stomach? It will be found easier to laugh or stare at the question -than to prove its irrationability. Enough for the present. I had been told -that Dr. Leach[185] was a Lawrencian, a materialist, and I know not what. -I met him at Mr. Abernethy's, and with sincere delight I found him the -very contrary in every respect. Except yourself, I have never met so -enlarged or so bold a love of truth in an English physiologist. The few -minutes of conversation that I had the power of enjoying have left a -strong wish in my mind to see more of him. - -Give my kind love to Mrs. Green. Mr. and Mrs. Gillman are anxious to see -you. I assure you they were very much affected by the account of your -health. Young Allsop behaves more like a dutiful and anxious son than an -acquaintance. He came up yester-night at ten o'clock, and left the house -at eight this morning, in order to urge me to go to some sea-bathing -place, if it was thought at all advisable. - -Derwent goes on in every respect to my satisfaction and comfort. - -Again and again, God bless you and your sincerely affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXIX. TO CHARLES AUGUSTUS TULK. - -February 12, 1821. - -MY DEAR SIR,--"They say, Coleridge! that you are a Swedenborgian!" "Would -to God," I replied fervently, "that _they_ were _anything_." I was writing -a brief essay on the prospects of a country where it has become the _mind_ -of the nation to appreciate the evil of public acts and measures by their -next consequences or immediate occasions, while the _principle_ violated, -or that _a_ principle is thereby violated, is either wholly dropped out of -the consideration, or is introduced but as a garnish or ornamental -commonplace in the peroration of a speech! The deep interest was present -to my thoughts of that distinction between the _Reason_, as the source of -principles, the true celestial influx and _porta Dei in hominem æternum_, -and the _Understanding_; with the clearness of the proof, by which this -distinction is evinced, viz. that vital or zoo-organic power, instinct, -and understanding fall all three under the same definition _in genere_, -and the very additions by which the definition is applied from the first -to the second, and from the second to the third, are themselves expressive -of degrees only, and in degree only deniable of the preceding. (_Ex. gr._ -1. Reflect on the _selective_ power exercised by the stomach of the -caterpillar on the undigested miscellany of food, and, 2, the same power -exercised by the caterpillar on the outward plants, and you will see the -order of the conceptions.) 1. Vital Power = the power by which _means are -adapted_ to proximate ends. 2. Instinct = the power _which adapts_ means -to proximate ends. 3. Understanding = the power which adapts means to -proximate ends according _to varying circumstances_. May I not safely -challenge any man to peruse Huber's "Treatise on Ants," and yet deny their -claim to be included in the last definition. But try to apply the same -definition, with any extension of degree, to the reason, the absurdity -will flash upon the conviction. First, in reason there is and can be no -_degree_. _Deus introit aut non introit._ Secondly, in reason there are no -_means_ nor ends, reason itself being one with the ultimate end, of which -it is _the_ manifestation. Thirdly, reason has no concern with _things_ -(that is, the impermanent flux of particulars), but with the permanent -_Relations_; and is to be defined even in its lowest or theoretical -attribute, as the power which enables man to draw _necessary_ and -_universal_ conclusions from particular facts or forms, _ex. gr._ from any -three-cornered thing, that the two sides of a triangle are and must be -greater than the third. From the understanding to the reason, there is no -continuous _ascent_ possible; it is a metabasis [Greek: eis allo genos] -even as from the air to the light. The true essential peculiarity of the -human understanding consists in its capability of being irradiated by the -reason, in its recipiency; and even this is _given_ to it by the presence -of a higher power than itself. What then must be the fate of a nation that -substitutes Locke for logic, and Paley for morality, and one or the other -for polity and theology, according to the predominance of Whig or Tory -predilection. Slavery, or a commotion is at hand! But if the gentry and -_clerisy_ (including all the learned and educated) do this, then the -nation does it, _or_ a commotion is at hand. _Acephalum_ enim, aurâ -quamvis et calore vitali potiatur, morientem rectius dicimus, quam quod -vivit. With these thoughts was I occupied when I received your very kind -and most acceptable present, and the results I must defer to the next -post. With best regards to Mrs. Tulk, - -Believe me, in the brief interval, your obliged and grateful - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -C. A. TULK, Esq., M. P., Regency Park. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE PHILOSOPHER AND DIVINE - -1822-1832 - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE PHILOSOPHER AND DIVINE - -1822-1832 - - -CCXXX. TO JOHN MURRAY. - -HIGHGATE, January 18, 1822. - -DEAR SIR,--If not with the works, you are doubtless familiar with the name -of that "wonderful man" (for such, says Doddridge, I must deliberately -call him), Archbishop Leighton. It would not be easy to point out another -name, which the eminent of all parties, Catholic and Protestant, Episcopal -and Presbyterian, Whigs and Tories, have been so unanimous in extolling. -"There is a spirit in Archbishop Leighton I never met with in any human -writings; nor can I read many lines in them without impressions which I -could wish always to retain," observes a dignitary of our Establishment -and F. R. S. eminent in his day both as a philosopher and a divine. In -fact, it would make no small addition to the size of the volume, if, as -was the fashion in editing the classics, we should collect the eulogies on -his writings passed by bishops only and church divines, from Burnet to -Porteus. That this confluence of favourable opinions is not without good -cause, my own experience convinces me. For at a time when I had read but a -small portion of the Archbishop's principal work, when I was altogether -ignorant of its celebrity, much more of the peculiar character attributed -to his writings (that of making and leaving a deep impression on readers -of all classes), I remember saying to Mr. Southey[186] "that in the -Apostolic Epistles I heard the last hour of Inspiration striking, and in -Arch. Leighton's commentary the lingering _vibration_ of the sound." -Perspicuous, I had almost said transparent, his style is _elegant_ by the -mere compulsion of the thoughts and feelings, and in despite, as it were, -of the writer's wish to the contrary. Profound as his conceptions often -are, and numerous as the passages are, where the most _athletic_ thinker -will find himself tracing a rich vein from the surface downward, and leave -off with an unknown depth for to-morrow's delving--yet there is this -quality peculiar to Leighton, unless we add Shakespeare--that there is -always a scum on the very surface which the simplest may understand, if -they have head and heart to understand anything. The same or nearly the -same excellence characterizes his eloquence. Leighton had by nature a -quick and pregnant fancy, and the august objects of his habitual -contemplation, and their remoteness from the outward senses, his constant -endeavour to see or to bring all things under some point of unity, but, -above all, the rare and vital union of head and heart, of light and love, -in his own character,--all these working conjointly could not fail to form -and nourish in him the higher power, and more akin to reason, the power, I -mean, of imagination. And yet in his freest and most figurative passages -there is a _subdued_ness, a self-checking timidity in his colouring, a -sobering silver-grey tone over all; and an experienced eye may easily see -where and in how many instances Leighton has substituted neutral tints for -a strong light or a bold relief--by this sacrifice, however, of particular -effects, giving an increased permanence to the impression of the whole, -and wonderfully facilitating its soft and quiet _illapse_ into the very -recesses of our convictions. Leighton's happiest ornaments of style are -made to appear as efforts on the part of the author to express himself -_less_ ornamentally, more plainly. - -Since the late alarm respecting Church Calvinism and Calvinistic Methodism -(a cry of Fire! Fire! in consequence of a red glare on one or two of the -windows, from a bonfire of straw and stubble in the church-yard, while the -dry rot of virtual Socinianism is snugly at work in the beams and joists -of the venerable edifice) I have heard of certain gentle doubts and -questions as to the Archbishop's _perfect_ orthodoxy--some small speck in -the diamond which had escaped the quick eye of all former theological -jewellers from Bishop Burnet to the outrageously anti-Methodistic -Warburton. But on what grounds I cannot even conjecture, unless it be, -that the Christianity which Leighton teaches contains the doctrines -peculiar to the Gospel as well as the truths common to it with the -(so-called) light of nature or natural religion, that he dissuades -students and the generality of Christians from all attempts at explaining -the mysteries of faith by _notional_ and metaphysical speculations, and -rather by a heavenly life and temper to obtain a closer view of these -truths, the _full_ light and knowledge of which it is in Heaven only that -we shall possess. He further advises them in speaking of these truths to -proper scripture language; but since something more than this had been -made necessary by the restless spirit of dispute, to take this "something -more" in the sound precise terms of the Liturgy and Articles of the -Established Church. Enthusiasm? Fanaticism? Had I to recommend an -antidote, I declare on my conscience that above all others it should be -Leighton. And as to Calvinism, L.'s exposition of the scriptural sense of -election ought to have prevented the very [suspicion of its presence]. You -will long ago, I fear, have [been asking yourself], To what does all this -tend? Briefly then, I feel strongly persuaded, perhaps because I strongly -wish it, that the Beauties of Archbishop Leighton, selected and -methodized, with a (better) Life of the Author, that is, a biographical -and critical introduction as Preface, and Notes, would make not only a -useful but an interesting POCKET VOLUME. "Beauties" in general are -objectionable works--injurious to the original author, as disorganizing -his productions, pulling to pieces the well-wrought _crown_ of his glory -to pick out the shining stones, and injurious to the reader, by indulging -the taste for unconnected, and for that reason unretained single thoughts, -till it fares with him as with the old gentleman at Edinburgh, who eat six -kittywakes by way of _whetting_ his appetite--"whereas" (said he) "it -proved quite the contrary: I never sat down to a dinner with so little." -But Leighton's principal work, that which fills two volumes and a half of -the four, being a commentary on St. Peter's Epistles, verse by verse, and -varying, of course, in subject, etc., with almost every paragraph, the -volume, I propose, would not only bring together his finest passages, but -these being afterwards arranged on a principle wholly independent of the -accidental place of each in the original volumes, and guided by their -relative bearings, it would give a connection or at least a propriety of -_sequency_, that was before of necessity wanting. It may be worth -noticing, that the editions, both the one in three, and the other in four -volumes, are most grievously misprinted and otherwise disfigured. Should -you be disposed to think this worthy your attention, I would even send you -the proof _transcribed_, sheet by sheet, as it should be printed, though -doubtless by sacrificing one copy of Leighton's works, it might be -effected by references to volume, page, and line, I having first carefully -corrected the copy. Or, should you think another more likely to execute -the plan better, or that another name would better promote its sale, I -should by no means resent the preference, nor feel any mortification for -which, the having occasioned the existence of such a work, tastefully -selected and judiciously arranged, would not be sufficient compensation -for, - - Dear sir, your obliged - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXXI. TO JAMES GILLMAN. - -October 28, 1822. - -DEAR FRIEND,--Words, I know, are not wanted between you and me. But there -are occasions so awful, there may be instances and manifestations so -affecting, and drawing up with them so long a train from behind, so many -folds of recollection, as they come onward on one's mind, that it seems -but a mere act of justice to one's self, a debt we owe to the dignity of -our moral nature, to give them some record--a relief, which the spirit of -man asks and demands to contemplate in some outward symbol of what it is -inwardly solemnizing. I am still too much under the cloud of past -misgivings;[187] too much of the stun and stupor from the recent peals and -thunder-crash still remains to permit me to anticipate other than by -wishes and prayers what the effect of your unweariable kindness may be on -poor Hartley's mind and conduct. I pray fervently, and I feel a cheerful -trust that I do not pray in vain, that on my own mind and spring of action -it will be proved not to have been wasted. I do inwardly believe that I -shall yet do something to thank you, my dear Gillman, in the way in which -you would wish to be thanked, by doing myself honour. - -Mrs. Gillman has been determined by your letter, and the heavenly weather, -and moral certainty of the continuance of _bathing_-weather at least, to -accept her sister's offer of coming into Ramsgate and to take a house, for -a fortnight certain, at a guinea a week, in the buildings next to -Wellington Crescent, and having a certain modicum and segment of sea-peep. -You remember the house (the end one) with a balcony at the window, almost -in a line with the Duke of W. ... in wood, _lignum vitæ_, like as life. I -had thought of keeping my present bedroom at 10s. 6d. a week, but on -consulting Mrs. Rogers, she did not think that this would satisfy the -etiquette of the world, though the two houses are on different cliffs; and -I felt so confident of the effect of the bathing and Ramsgate transparent -water, the sands, the pier, etc., that as there was no alternative but of -giving up the bathing (for Mrs. G. would not stay by herself, partly, if -not chiefly, because she feared I might add more to your anxiety than your -comfort in your bachelor state and with only Bessy of Beccles) or having -Jane, I voted for the latter, and will do my very best to keep her in good -humour and good spirits. - -Dear Friend, and Brother of my Soul, God only knows how truly and in the -depth you are loved and prized by your affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXXII. TO MISS BRENT.[188] - -July 7, 1823. - -MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,--I have been many times in town within the last three -or four weeks; but with one exception, when I was driven in and back by -Mr. Gillman to hear the present idol of the world of fashion, the Revd. -Mr. Irving, the super-Ciceronian, ultra-Demosthenic pulpiteer of the -Scotch Chapel in Cross Street, Hatton Garden, I have been always at the -West End of the town, and mostly dancing attendance on a proud bookseller, -and I fear to little purpose--weary enough of my existence, God knows! and -yet not a tittle the more disposed to better it at the price of apostacy -or suppression of the truth. If I could but once get off the two works, on -which I rely for the proof that I have not lived in vain, and had those -off my mind, I could then maintain myself well enough by writing for the -purpose of what I got by it; but it is an anguish I cannot look in the -face, to abandon just as it is completed the work of such intense and -long-continued labour; and if I cannot make an agreement with Murray, I -must try Colbourn, and if with neither, owing to the loud calumny of the -"Edinburgh," and the silent but more injurious detraction of the -"Quarterly Review," I must try to get them published by subscription. But -of this when we meet. I write at present and to you as the less busy -sister, to beg you will be so good as to send me the volume of Southey's -"Brazil," which I am now in particular want of, by the Highgate Stage that -sets off just before Middle Row. "Mr. Coleridge, or J. Gillman, Esq. -(either will do), Highgate." - -My kind love to Mary. I have little doubt that I shall see you in the -course of next week. - -Do you think of taking rooms out of the smoke during this summer for any -time? - -God bless you, my dear Charlotte, and your affectionate - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXXIII. TO THE REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE.[189] - -HIGHGATE, July 23, 1823. - -MY DEAR EDWARD,--From Carlisle to Keswick there are several routes -possible, and neither of these without some attraction. The choice, -however, lies between two; which to prefer, I find it hard to decide, and -if, as on the whole I am disposed to do, I advise the former, it is not -from thinking the other of inferior interest. On the contrary, if your -_laking_ were comprised between Carlisle and Keswick, I should not -hesitate to recommend the latter in preference, but because the first will -bring you soonest to Keswick, where Mr. Southey still is, having, as your -cousin Sara writes me, deferred his journey to town, on account of his -book on "The Church," which has outgrown its intended dimensions; and -because the _sort_ of "scenery" (to use that slang word best confined to -the creeking Daubenies of the Theatre) on the latter route, is what you -will have abundant opportunities of seeing with the one leg of your -compass fixed at Keswick. - -First then, you may go from Carlisle to Rose Castle, and spend an hour in -seeing that and its circumferency; and from thence to _Caldbeck_, its -waterfalls and faery caldrons, with the Pulpit and Clerk's Desk Rocks, -over which the Cata-, or rather Kitten-ract, flings itself, and the cavern -to the right of the fall, as you front it; and from Caldbeck to the foot -of Bassenthwaite, when you are in the vale of Keswick and not many miles -from Greta Hall. The second route is from Carlisle to Penrith (a road of -little or no interest), but from Carlisle you would go to Lowther (Earl of -Lonsdale's seat and magnificent grounds), the village of Lowther, Hawes -Water, and from Hawes Water you might pass over the mountains into -Ulleswater, and when there, you might go round the head of the lake (that -is, Patterdale), and, if on foot and strong enough and the weather is -fine, pass over Helvellyn, and so get into the high road between Grasmere -and Keswick, or, passing lower down on the lake, cross over by Graystock, -or with a guide or manual instructions, over the fells so as to come out -at or not far from Threlkeld, which is but three or four miles from -Keswick. At least in good weather there is, I believe, a tolerably -_equitible_ (that is, horse or pony-tolerating) track. But at Patterdale -you would receive the best direction. There is an inn at Patterdale where -you might sleep, so as to make one day of it from Penrith to the Lake -Head, _viâ_ Lowther and Hawes Water; and thence to Keswick would take good -part of a second. There is one consideration in favour of this plan, that -from Carlisle to Penrith, or even to Lowther, you might go by the coach, -and I question whether you could reach Greta Hall by the Caldbeck Route in -one day when at Keswick. When at Keswick, I would advise you to go to -Wastdale through Borrowdale, and if you could return by Crummock and -through the vale of Newlands, the inverted arch of which (on the AB (A B) -of which I once saw the two legs of a rich rainbow so as to form with the -arch a perfect circle) _faces_ Greta Hall, you will have seen the very -pith and marrow of the Lakes, especially as your route to Chester or -Liverpool will take you that heavenly road through Thirlmere, Grasmere, -Rydal (where you will, of course, pay your respects to Mr. Wordsworth), -Ambleside, and the _striking_ half of Windermere. - -God bless you! Pray take care of yourself, were it only that you know how -fearful and anxious your father and Fanny[190] are respecting your chest -and lungs, in case of cold or over-exertion. - -I have heard from Sara and from Mr. Watson (a friend of mine who has just -come from the North) a very comfortable account of Hartley. - -Believe me, dear Edward, with every kind wish, your affectionate uncle and -sincere friend, - - [S. T. COLERIDGE.] - -P. S. Your query respecting the poem I can only answer by a _Nescio_. -Irving (the Scotch preacher, so blackguarded in the "John Bull" of last -Sunday), certainly the greatest _orator_ I ever heard (N. B. I make and -mean the same distinction between oratory and eloquence as between the -mouth + the windpipe and the brain + heart), is, however, a man of great -simplicity, of overflowing affections, and enthusiastically in earnest; -and I have reason to believe, deeply regrets his conjunction of Southey -with Byron, as far as the _men_ (and not the poems) are in question. - - -CCXXXIV. TO J. H. GREEN. - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, February 15, 1824. - -I mentioned to you, I believe, Basil Montagu's kind endeavour to have an -associateship of the Royal Society of Literature (a yearly £100 versus a -yearly essay) conferred on me. I knew nothing of the particulars till this -morning, or rather till within this hour, when I received a list of names -(electors) from Mr. Montagu, with advice to write to such and such and -such--while he, and he, and he had promised "_for us_"--in short, a -regular _canvass_, or rather sackcloth with the ashes on it pulled out of -the dust holes, moistened with cabbage-water, and other culinary -excretions of the same kidney. Of course, I _jibbed_ and with proper (if -not equa; yet) mulanimity returned for answer--that what a man's friends -did _sub rosâ_, and what one friend might say to another in favour of an -individual, was one thing--what a man did in his own name and person was -another--and that I would not, _could_ not, _solicit_ a single vote. I -should think it an affrontive interference with a decision, in which there -ought to be neither ground or motive, but the elector's own judgement, and -conscience, and all for what? It is hard if, in the same time as I could -produce an essay of the sort required, I could not get the same sum by -compiling a school-book. - -However, I fear, that having allowed my name, at Montagu's instance, to be -proposed, which it was by a Mr. Jerdan (N. B. Neither the one _sub -cubili_, nor that in Palestine; but the Jerdan of Michael's Grove, -Brompton, No. 1), I cannot now withdraw my name without appearing to -_trifle_ with my friends, and without hurting Montagu--so I must submit to -the probability of being black-balled as the penalty of having given my -assent before I had ascertained the conditions. So I have decided to let -the thing take its own course. But as Montagu wishes to have Mr. -Chantrey's vote _for us_, if you see and _feel_ no objection (an -objectiuncula will be quite sufficient), you will perhaps write him a line -to state the circumstances. It comes on on Thursday next. - -I look forward with a _feel_ of regeneration to the Sundays. - -My best and most affectionate respects to Mrs. J. Green, and to your dear -and excellent mother if she be with you. - -And till we meet, may God bless you and your obliged and sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXXV. TO THE SAME. - - ÆDES NEMOROSÆ, APUD PORT{M} ALTAM, - May 19, 1824. - -Mr. S. T. Coleridge, F. R. S. L., R. A., H. M., P. S. B., etc., etc., has -the honour of avowing the high gratification he will receive should any -answer from him be thought "to oblige Lincoln's Inn Fields." When he -reflects indeed on their many and cogent claims on his admiration and -gratitude, what a _Fund_ of _Literature_ they contain, what a Royal -Society, what Royal Associates--not to speak of those as yet in the egg of -futurity, the unhatched Decemvirate and Spes Altera Phoebi! What a royal -College, where philosophy and eloquence unite to display their fresh and -vernal green! what a conjunction of the Fine Arts with the Sciences, Law -and Physique, Glossurgery and Chirurgery! when he remembers that if the -Titanic Roc should take up the Great Pyramid in his beak, and drop the -same with due skill, the L. I. F. would fit as cup to ball, bone to bone; -though if S. T. C. might dare advise so great and rare a bird, the -precious transport should be let fall point downwards, and thus prevent -the adulteration of their intellectual splendours with "the light of -common day," while a duplicate of the Elysium below might be reared on its -ample base in mid air--(ah! if a duplicate of No. 22 could be -found)!--when S. T. C. ponders on these proud merits, what is there he -would not do to "oblige Lincoln's Inn Fields"? In vain does Gillman talk -of a _stop_ being put thereto! Between _oblige_ and Lincoln's Inn Fields -continuity alone can intervene for the heart's eye of their obliged and -counter-obliging - - S. T. COLERIDGE, - -who, with his friends Mr. and Mrs. G., will, etc., on June 3rd. - -J. H. GREEN, Esq., 22, Lincoln's Inn Fields. - - -CCXXXVI. TO JAMES GILLMAN. - -RAMSGATE, November 2, 1824. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--That so much longer an interval has passed between this -and my last letter you will not, I am sure, attribute to any correspondent -interval of oblivion. I do not, indeed, think that any two hours of any -one day, taken at sixteen, have elapsed in which you, past or future, or -myself in connection with you, were not for a longer or shorter space my -uppermost thought. But the two days following James's safe arrival by the -coach I was so depressively unwell, so unremittingly restless, etc., and -so exhausted by a teasing cough, and by two of these bad nights that make -me moan out, "O for a sleep for sleep itself to rest in!" that I was quite -disqualified for writing. And since then, I have been waiting for the -Murrays to take a parcel with them, who were to have gone on Monday -morning. But again not hearing from them, and remembering your injunction -not to mind postage, I have resolved that no more time shall pass on and -should have written to-day, even though Mrs. Gillman had not been dreaming -about you last night, and about some letter, etc. Upon my seriousness, I -do declare that I cannot make out certain dream-devils or damned souls -that play pranks with me, whenever by the operation of a cathartic pill or -from the want of one, a ci-devant dinner in its metempsychosis is -struggling in the lower intestines. I cannot comprehend how any thoughts, -the offspring or product of my own reflection, conscience, or fancy, could -be translated into such images, and agents and actions, and am -half-tempted (N. B. between sleeping and waking) to regard with some -favour Swedenborg's assertion that certain foul spirits of the lowest -order are attracted by the precious ex-viands, whose conversation the soul -half appropriates to itself, and which they contrive to whisper into the -sensorium. The Honourable Emanuel has repeatedly caught them in the fact, -in that part of the spiritual world corresponding to the guts in the world -of bodies, and driven them away. I do not pass this Gospel; but upon my -honour it is no bad apocrypha. I am at present in my best sort and state -of health, bathed yesterday, and again this morning in spite of the rain, -and in so deep a bath, that having thrown myself forward from the first -step of the machine ladder, and only taken two strokes after my -re-immersion, I had at least ten strokes to take before I got into my -depth again, so that it is no false alarm when those who cannot swim are -warned that a person may be drowned a very few yards from the machine. I -returned to _fetch out_ our ladies to see the huge lengthy Columbus, with -the two steam vessels,[191] before and behind, the former to tow, and the -latter to, God knows what. By aid of a good glass, we saw it "_quite -stink_," as the poor woman said, the people on board, etc. It is 310 feet -long, and 50 wide, and looks exactly like a _Brobdingnag punt_, and on our -return we had (from Mrs. Jones) the "Morning Herald," with Fauntleroy's -trial, which (if he be not a treble-damned liar) completely bears out my -assertion that nothing short of a miracle could acquit the partners of -_virtual_ accompliceship; this on my old principle, that the absence of -what ought to have been present is all but equivalent to the presence of -what ought to have been absent. Qui non prohibet quod prohibere potest et -debet, _facit_. - -Sir Alexander Johnston[192] has payed me great attention. There is a Lady -Johnston not unlike Miss Sara Hutchinson in face and mouth, only that she -is taller. Sir A. himself is a fine gentlemanly man, young-looking for his -age, and with exception of one not easily describable motion of his head -that makes him look as if he had been accustomed to have a _pen_ behind -his ear, a sort of "Torney's" clerk look, he might remind you of J. -Hookham Frere. He is a sensible well-informed man, _specious_ in no bad -sense of the word, but (I guess) not much depth. In all probability, you -will see him. We have talked a good deal together about you and me, and me -and you, in consequence of _occasion_ given. Sir A. is one of the leading -men in _our_ Royal Society of Literature, and beyond doubt, a man of -_influence_ in town. I am apt to forget superfluities, but a voice from -above asks, "if I have said that we begin to be anxious to hear from you." -But probably before you can sit down to answer this, you will have -received another, and, I flatter myself, more amusing, at least -pleasure-giving Scripture from me. (N. B. "Coleridge's Scriptures"--a new -title.) - - [No signature.] - - -CCXXXVII. TO THE REV. H. F. CARY. - -HIGHGATE, Monday, December 14, 1824. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--The gentleman, Mr. Gabriel Rossetti,[193] whose letter to -you I enclose, is a friend of my friend, Mr. J. H. Frere, with whom he -lived in habits of intimacy at Malta and Naples. He seems to me what from -Mr. Frere's high opinion of him I should have confidently anticipated, a -gentleman, a scholar, and a man of talents. The nature of his request you -will learn from the letter, namely, a perusal of his Manuscript on the -spirit of Dante and the mechanism and interpretation of the "Divina -Commedia," of which he believes himself to have the filum Ariadneum in his -hand, and a frank opinion of the merits of his labours. My dear friend! I -know by experience _what_ is asked in this twofold request, and that the -weight increases in proportion to the kindness and sensibility and the -shrinking from the infliction of pain of the person on whom it is -enjoined. The name of Mr. John Hookham Frere would alone have sufficed to -make _me_ undertake this office, had the request been directed to myself. -It would have been my duty. But I would not, knowing your temper and -habits and avocations, have sought to engage you, or even have put you to -the discomfort of excusing yourself had I not been strongly impressed by -Mr. Rossetti's manners and conversation with the belief that the interests -of literature are concerned, and that Mr. Rossetti has a claim on all the -services which the sons of the Muses, and more particularly the -cultivators of ancient Italian Literature, and most particularly Dante's -"English Duplicate and Re-incarnation" can render him. If your health and -other duties allow your accession to this request (for the recommendation -of the work to the booksellers is quite a secondary consideration, of -minor importance in Mr. Rossetti's estimation, and I have, besides, -explained to him how very limited _our_ influence is), you will be so good -as to let me hear from you, and where and when Mr. Rossetti might wait on -you. He will be happy to attend you at Chiswick. He _understands_ English, -and, he speaking Italian and I our own language, we had no difficulty in -keeping up an animated conversation. - -Make mine and all our cordial remembrances to Mrs. Cary, and believe me, -dear friend, with perfect esteem and most affectionate regard, yours, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. Both Mrs. G. and myself have returned much benefited by our -sea-sojourn. Mr. Rossetti has, I find, an additional merit in good men's -thoughts. He is a poet who has been driven into exile for the high morale -of his writings. For even general sentiments breathing the spirit of -nobler times are treasons in the present Neapolitan and Holy Alliance -Codes! Wretches!! I dare even _pray_ against them, even with Davidian -bitterness. Do not forget to let me have an answer to this, if possible, -by next day's post. - - -CCXXXVIII. TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - -Monday Night, ? 1824 ? 1829. - -DEAR WORDSWORTH,--Three whole days the going through the first book cost -me, though only to find fault. But I cannot find fault, in pen and ink, -without thinking over and over again, and without some sort of an attempt -to suggest the alteration; and, in so doing, how soon an hour is gone! so -many half seconds up to half minutes are lost in leaning back in one's -chair, and looking up, in the bodily act of contracting the muscles of the -brow and forehead, and unconsciously attending to the sensation. Had I the -MS. with me for five or six months, so as to amuse myself off and on, -without any solicitude as to a given day, and, could I be persuaded that -if as well done as the nature of the thing (viz., _a translation of -Virgil_,[194] in English) renders possible, it would not raise but simply -sustain your well-merited fame for pure diction, where what is not idiom -is never other than logically correct, I doubt not that the irregularities -could be removed. But I am haunted by the apprehension that I am not -feeling or thinking in the same spirit with you, at one time, and at -another _too much_ in the spirit of your writings. Since Milton, I know of -no poet with so many _felicities_ and unforgettable lines and stanzas as -you. And to read, therefore, page after page without a single _brilliant_ -note, depresses me, and I grow peevish with you for having wasted your -time on a work _so_ much below you, that you cannot _stoop_ and _take_. -Finally, my conviction is, that you undertake an _impossibility_, and that -there is no medium between a prose version and one on the avowed principle -of _compensation_ in the widest sense, that is, manner, genius, total -effect. I confine myself to _Virgil_ when I say this. - -I must now set to work with _all_ my powers and thoughts to my -Leighton,[195] and then to my logic, and then to my _opus maximum_! if -indeed it shall please God to spare me so long, which I have had too many -warnings of late (more than my nearest friends know of) not to doubt. My -kind love to Dorothy. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXXXIX. TO JOHN TAYLOR COLERIDGE. - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, Friday, April 8, 1825. - -MY DEAR NEPHEW,--I need not tell you that no attention in my power to -offer shall be wanting to Dr. Reich. As a foreigner and a man of letters -he might claim this in his own right; and that he came from you would have -ensured it, even though he had been a Frenchman. But that he is a German, -and that you think him a worthy and deserving man, and that his lot, like -my own, has been cast on the bleak north side of the mountain, make me -reflect with pain on the little influence I possess, and the all but -_zero_ of my direct means, to serve or to assist him. The prejudices -excited against me by Jeffrey, combining with the mistaken notion of my -German Metaphysics to which (I am told) some passages in some biographical -gossip book about Lord Byron[196] have given fresh currency, have rendered -my authority with the _Trade_ worse than nothing. Of the three schemes of -philosophy, Kant's, Fichte's, and Schelling's (as diverse each from the -other as those of Aristotle, Zeno, and Plotinus, though all crushed -together under the name Kantean Philosophy in the English talk) I should -find it difficult to select the one from which I _differed_ the most, -though perfectly easy to determine which of the three _men_ I hold in -highest honour. And Immanuel Kant I assuredly do value most highly; not, -however, as a metaphysician, but as a logician who has completed and -systematised what Lord Bacon had boldly designed and loosely sketched out -in the Miscellany of Aphorisms, his Novum Organum. In Kant's "Critique of -the Pure Reason" there is more than one fundamental error; but the main -fault lies in the title-page, which to the manifold advantage of the work -might be exchanged for "An Inquisition respecting the Constitution and -Limits of the Human Understanding." I can not only honestly assert, but I -can satisfactorily prove by reference to writings (Letters, Marginal -Notes, and those in books that have never been in my possession since I -first left England for Hamburgh, etc.) that all the elements, the -_differentials_, as the algebraists say, of my present opinions existed -for me before I had even seen a book of German Metaphysics, later than -Wolf and Leibnitz, or could have read it, if I had. But what will this -avail? A High German Transcendentalist I must be content to remain, and a -young American painter, Leslie (pupil and friend of a very dear friend of -mine, Allston), to whom I have been in the habit for ten years and more of -shewing as cordial regards as I could to a near relation, has, I find, -introduced a portrait of me in a picture from Sir W. Scott's "Antiquary," -as Dr. Duster Swivil, or whatever his name is.[197] Still, however, I will -make any attempt to serve Dr. Reich, which he may point out and which, I -am not sure, would dis-serve him! I do not, of course, know what command -he has over the English language. If he wrote it fluently, I should think -that it would answer to any one of our great publishers to engage him in -the translation of the best and cheapest Natural History in existence, -viz., Okens, in three thick octavo volumes, containing the inorganic -world, and the animals from the [Greek: Prôtozôa] and animalcula of -Infusions, to man. The Botany was not published two years ago. Whether it -is now I do not know. There is one thin quarto of plates. It is by far the -most entertaining as well as instructive book of the kind I ever saw; and -with a few notes and the omission (or castigation) of one or two of Oken's -adventurous whimsies, would be a valuable addition to our English -literature. So much for this. - -I will not disguise from you, my dearest nephew, that the first certain -information of your having taken the "Quarterly"[198] gave me a pain, -which it required all my confidence in the soundness of your judgement to -counteract. I had long before by conversation with experienced barristers -got rid of all apprehension of its being likely to injure you -professionally. My fears were directed to the _invidiousness_ of the -situation, it being the notion of publishers that without satire and -sarcasm no review can obtain or keep up a sale. Perhaps pride had some -concern in it. _For_ myself I have none, probably because I had time out -of mind given it up as a lost cause, given myself over, I mean, a -predestined author, though without a drop of true _author_ blood in my -veins. But a pride in and for the name of my father's house I have, and -those with whom I live know that it is never more than a dog-sleep, and -apt to _start up_ on the slight alarms. Now, though very sillily, I felt -pain at the notion of any _comparisons_ being drawn between _you_ (to whom -with your sister my heart pulls the strongest) and Mr. Gifford, even -though they should be [to] your advantage; and still more, the thought -that ... Murray should be or hold himself entitled to have and express an -opinion on the subject. The insolence of one of his proposals to me, viz., -that he would publish an edition of my Poems, on the condition that a -gentleman in his confidence (Mr. Milman![199] I understand) was to select, -and make such omissions and corrections as should be thought -advisable--this, which offered to myself excited only a smile in which -there was nothing sardonic, might very possibly have rendered me sorer and -more sensitive when I boded even an infinitesimal _ejusdem farinæ_ in -connection with you. - -But henceforward I shall look at the thing in a sunnier mood. Mr. Frere is -strongly impressed with the importance and even dignity of the trust, and -on the power you have of gradually giving a steadier and manlier tone to -the feelings and principles of the higher classes. But I hope very soon to -converse with you on this subject, as soon as I have finished my Essay for -the Literary Society, (in which I flatter myself I have thrown some light -on the passages in Herodotus respecting the derivation of the Greek -Mythology from Egypt, and in what respect that paragraph respecting Homer -and Hesiod is to be understood), and have, likewise, got my "Aids to -Reflection" out of the Press. But I have more to do for the necessities of -the day, and which are _Nos non nobis_, than I can well manage so as to go -on with my own works, though I work from morning to night, as far as my -health admits and the loss of my friendly amanuensis. For the slowness -with which I get on with the pen in my own hand contrasts most strangely -with the rapidity with which I dictate. Your kind letter of invitation did -not reach me, but there was one which I ought to have answered long ago, -which came while I was at Ramsgate. We have had a continued succession of -illness in our family here, at one time six persons confined to their -beds. I have been sadly afraid that we should lose Mrs. Gillman, who would -be a loss indeed to the whole neighbourhood, young and old. But she seems, -thank God! to recover strength, though slowly. As I hope to write again in -a few days with my book, I shall now desire my cordial regards to Mrs. J. -Coleridge, and with my affectionate love to the little ones. - -With the warmest interest of affection and esteem, I am, my dear John, -your sincere friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -J. T. COLERIDGE, Esq., 65, Torrington Square. - - -CCXL. TO THE REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE. - -May 19, 1825. - -MY VERY DEAR NEPHEW,--You have left me under a painful and yet genial -feeling of regret, that my lot in life has hitherto so much estranged me -from the children of the sons of my father, that venerable countenance -and name which form my earliest recollections and _make them religious_. -It is not in my power to express adequately so as to convey it to others -what a revolution has taken place in my mind since I have seen your -sister, and John, and Henry, and lastly yourself. Yet revolution is not -the word I want. It is rather the sudden evolution of a seed that had sunk -too deep for the warmth and exciting air to reach, but which a casual -spade had turned up and brought close to the surface, and I now _know_ the -meaning as well as feel the _truth_ of the Scottish proverb, Blood is -thicker than water. - -My book will be _out_ on Monday next, and Mr. Hessey hopes that he shall -be able to have a copy ready for me by to-morrow afternoon, so that I may -present it to the Bishop of London, whom (at his own request Lady B. tells -me) with his angel-faced wife and Miss Howley[200] I am to meet at Sir -George's to-morrow at six o'clock. There are many on whose sincerity and -goodness of heart I can rely. There are several in whose judgement and -knowledge of the world I have greater trust than in my own. And among -these few John Coleridge ranks foremost. It was, therefore, an -indescribable comfort to me to hear from him, that the first draft of my -"Aids to Reflection," that is, all he had yet seen, had delighted him -_beyond measure_. I can with severest truth declare that half a score -flaming panegyrical reviews in as many works of periodical criticism would -not have given me half the pleasure, nor one quarter the satisfaction. - -I dine D. V. on Saturday next in Torrington Square, when doubtless we -shall drink your health with appropriate adjuncts. Yesterday I had to -inflict an hour and twenty-five minutes' essay full of Greek and -superannuated Metaphysics on the ears of the Royal Society of Literature, -the subject being the Prometheus of Æschylus deciphered in proof and as -instance of the connection of the Greek Drama with the Mysteries.[201] -"Douce take it" (as Charles Lamb says in his Superannuated Man) if I did -not feel remorseful pity for my audience all the time. For, at the very -best, it was a thing to be read, not to read. God bless you or I shall be -too late for the post. - - Your affectionate uncle, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I went yesterday to the Exhibition, and hastily "thrid" the -labyrinth of the dense huddle, for the sole purpose of seeing our Bishop's -portrait.[202] My own by the same artist is very much better, though even -in this the smile is exaggerated. But Fanny and your mother were in -raptures with it while they too seemed very cold in their praise of -William's. - - -CCXLI. TO DANIEL STUART. - -Postmark, July 9, 1825. - -MY DEAR SIR,--The bad weather had so far damped my expectations, that, -though I regretted, I did not feel any disappointment at your not coming. -And yet I hope you will remember our Highgate Thursday conversation -evenings on your return to town; because, if you come once, I flatter -myself, you will afterwards be no unfrequent visitor. - -At least, I have never been at any of the town conversazioni, literary, or -artistical, in which the conversation has been more miscellaneous without -degenerating into _pinches_, a pinch of this, and a pinch of that, without -the least connection between the subjects, and with as little interest. -You will like Irving as a companion and a converser even more than you -admire him as a preacher. He has a vigorous and (what is always pleasant) -a GROWING mind, and his character is MANLY throughout. There is one thing, -too, that I cannot help considering as a recommendation to our evenings, -that, in addition to a few ladies and pretty lasses, we have seldom more -than five or six in company, and these generally of as many professions or -pursuits. A few weeks ago we had present, two painters, two poets, one -divine, an eminent chemist and naturalist, a major, a naval captain and -voyager, a physician, a colonial chief justice, a barrister, and a -baronet; and this was the most numerous meeting we ever had. - -It would more than gratify me to know from you, what the impressions are -which my "Aids to Reflection" make on your judgment. The conviction -respecting the character of the times expressed in the _comment_ on Aph. -vi., page 147, contains the aim and object of the whole book. I venture to -direct your notice particularly to the note, page 204 to 207, to the note -to page 218, and to the sentences respecting common sense in the last -twelve lines of page 252, and the _conclusion_, page 377. - -Lady Beaumont writes me that the Bishop of London has expressed a _most_ -favourable opinion of the book; and Blanco White was sufficiently struck -with it, as immediately to purchase all my works that are in print, and -has procured from Sir George Beaumont an introduction to me. It is well I -should have some one to speak for it, for I am unluckily ill off ... and -you will easily see what a chance a poor book of mine has in these days. - -Such has been the influence of the "Edinburgh Review" that in all -Edinburgh not a single copy of Wordsworth's works or of any part of them -could be procured a few months ago. The only copy Irving saw in Scotland -belonged to a poor weaver at Paisley, who prized them next to his Bible, -and had all the Lyrical Ballads by heart--a fact which would cut Jeffrey's -conscience to the bone, if he had any. I give you my honour that Jeffrey -himself told me that _he_ was himself an enthusiastic admirer of -Wordsworth's poetry, but it was necessary that a Review should have a -character. - -Forgive this egotism, and be pleased to remember me kindly and with my -best respects to Mrs. Stuart, and with every cordial wish and prayer for -you and yours, be assured that I am your obliged and affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Friday, July 8, 1825. - - -CCXLII. TO JAMES GILLMAN. - - [8 Plains of Waterloo, Ramsgate,] - October 10, 1825. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--It is a flat'ning thought that the more we have seen, the -less we have to say. In youth and early manhood the mind and nature are, -as it were, two rival artists both potent magicians, and engaged, like the -King's daughter and the rebel genii in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, -in sharp conflict of conjuration, each having for its object to turn the -other into canvas to paint on, clay to mould, or cabinet to contain. For a -while the mind seems to have the better in the contest, and makes of -Nature what it likes, takes her lichens and weather-stains for types and -printers' ink, and prints maps and facsimiles of Arabic and Sanscrit MSS. -on her rocks; composes country dances on her moonshiny ripples, fandangos -on her waves, and waltzes on her eddy-pools, transforms her summer gales -into harps and harpers, lovers' sighs and sighing lovers, and her winter -blasts into Pindaric Odes, Christabels, and Ancient Mariners set to music -by Beethoven, and in the insolence of triumph conjures her clouds into -whales and walruses with palanquins on their backs, and chases the dodging -stars in a sky-hunt! But alas! alas! that Nature is a wary wily -long-breathed old witch, tough-lived as a turtle and divisible as the -polyp, repullulative in a thousand snips and cuttings, _integra et in -toto_. She is sure to get the better of Lady _Mind_ in the long run and to -take her revenge too; transforms our to-day into a canvas dead-coloured to -receive the dull, featureless portrait of yesterday: not alone turns the -mimic mind, the ci-devant sculptress with all her kaleidoscopic freaks and -symmetries! into clay, but _leaves_ it such a _clay_ to cast dumps or -bullets in; and lastly (to end with that which suggested the beginning) -she mocks the mind with its own metaphor, metamorphosing the memory into a -_lignum vitæ_ escritoire to keep unpaid bills and dun's letters in, with -outlines that had never been filled up, MSS. that never went further than -the title-pages, and proof sheets, and foul copies of Watchmen, Friends, -Aids to Reflection, and other _stationary_ wares that have kissed the -publishers' shelf with all the tender intimacy of inosculation! Finis! and -what is all this about? Why, verily, my dear friend! the thought forced -itself on me, as I was beginning to put down the first sentence of this -letter, how impossible it would have been fifteen or even ten years ago -for me to have travelled and voyaged by land, river, and sea a hundred and -twenty miles with fire and water blending their souls for my propulsion, -as if I had been riding on a centaur with a sopha for a saddle, and yet to -have nothing more to tell of it than that we had a very fine day and ran -aside the steps in Ramsgate Pier at half-past four exactly, all having -been well except poor Harriet, who during the middle third of the voyage -fell into a reflecting melancholy.... She looked pathetic, but I cannot -affirm that I observed anything sympathetic in the countenances of her -fellow-passengers, which drew forth a sigh from me and a sage remark how -many of our virtues originate in the fear of death, and that while we -flatter ourselves that we are melting in Christian sensibility over the -sorrows of our human brethren and sisteren, we are in fact, though perhaps -unconsciously, moved at the prospect of our own end. For who ever -sincerely pities seasickness, toothache, or a fit of the gout in a lusty -good liver of fifty? - -What have I to say? We have received the snuff, for which I thank your -providential memory.... To Margate, and saw the caverns, as likewise smelt -the same, called on Mr. Bailey, and got the Novum Organum. In my hurry, I -scrambled up the Blackwood instead of a volume of Giovanni Battista Vico, -which I left on the table in my room, and forgot my sponge and sponge-bag -of oiled silk. But perhaps when I sit down to work, I may have to request -something to be sent, which may come with them. I therefore defer it till -then.... - -God bless you, my dear friend! You will soon hear again from - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXLIII. TO THE REV. EDWARD COLERIDGE. - -December 9, 1825. - -MY DEAR EDWARD,--I write merely to tell you, that I have secured Charles -Lamb and Mr. Irving to meet you, and wait only to learn the day for the -endeavour to induce Mr. Blanco White to join us. Will you present Mr. and -Mrs. Gillman's regards to your brothers Henry and John, and that they -would be most happy if both or either would be induced to accompany you? - -I have had a very interesting conversation with Irving this evening on the -present condition of the Scottish Church, the spiritual life of which, -yea, the very core he describes as in a state of ossification. The greater -part of the Scottish clergy, he complains, have lost the _unction_ of -their own church without acquiring the erudition and accomplishments of -ours. Their sermons are all dry theological arguing and disputing, -lifeless, pulseless,--a rushlight in a fleshless skull. - -My kindest love to your sister, and kisses, prayers, and blessings for the -little one. - - [S. T. COLERIDGE.] - -Thursday midnight. - -I almost despair of John's coming; but do persuade Henry if you can. I -quite long to see him again. - - -CCXLIV. TO MRS. GILLMAN. - -May 3, 1827. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--I received and acknowledge your this morning's present -both as plant and symbol, and with appropriate thanks and correspondent -feeling. The rose is the pride of summer, the delight and the beauty of -our gardens; the eglantine, the honeysuckle, and the jasmine, if not so -bright or so ambrosial, are less transient, creep nearer to us, clothe our -walls, twine over our porch, and haply peep in at our chamber window, with -the crested wren or linnet within the tufts wishing good morning to us. -Lastly the geranium passes the door, and in its hundred varieties -imitating now this now that leaf, odour, blossom of the garden, still -steadily retains its own _staid_ character, its own sober and refreshing -hue and fragrance. It deserves to be the inmate of the house, and with due -attention and tenderness will live through the winter grave yet cheerful, -as an old family friend, that makes up for the departure of gayer -visitors, in the leafless season. But none of these are the _myrtle_![203] -In none of these, nor in all collectively, will the _myrtle_ find a -substitute. All together and joining with them all the aroma, the spices, -and the balsams of the hot-house, yet would they be a sad exchange for the -_myrtle_! Oh, precious in its sweetness is the _rich_ innocence of its -snow-white blossoms! And dear are they in the remembrance; but these may -pass with the season, and while the myrtle plant, our own myrtle plant -remains unchanged, its blossoms are remembered the more to endear the -faithful bearer; yea, they survive invisibly in every _more than_ fragrant -leaf. As the flashing strains of the nightingale to the yearning murmurs -of the dove, so the myrtle to the rose! He who has once possessed and -prized a genuine _myrtle_ will rather _remember_ it under the cypress tree -than seek to _forget_ it among the rose bushes of a paradise. - -God bless you, my dearest friend, and be assured that if death do not -suspend memory and consciousness, death itself will not deprive you of a -faithful participator in all your hopes and fears, affections and -solicitudes, in your unalterable - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -[Illustration] - - -CCXLV. TO THE REV. GEORGE MAY COLERIDGE. - -Monday, January 14, 1828. - -MY DEAR NEPHEW,--An interview with your cousin Henry on Saturday and a -note received from him last night had enabled me in some measure to -prepare my mind for the awful and _humanly_ afflicting contents of your -letter, and I rose to the receiving of it from earnest suplication to "the -Father of Mercies and God of all Comfort"--that He would be strong in the -weakness of His faithful servant, and his effectual helper in the last -conflict. My first impulse on reading your letter was to set off -immediately, but on a re-perusal, I doubt whether I shall not better -comply with your suggestion by waiting for your next. Assuredly, if God -permit I will not forego the claim, which my heart and conscience justify -me in making, to be one among the mourners who ever truly loved and -honoured your father. Allow me, my dear nephew, in the swelling grief of -my heart to say, that if ever man morning and evening and in the watches -of the night had earnestly intreated through his Lord and Mediator, that -God would shew him his sins and their sinfulness, I, for the last ten -years at least of my life, have done so! But, in vain, have I tried to -recall any one moment since my quitting the University, or any one -occasion, in which I have either thought, felt, spoken, or intentionally -acted of or in relation to my brother, otherwise than as one who loved in -him father and brother in one, and who independent of the fraternal -relation and the remembrance of his manifold goodness and kindness to me -from boyhood to early manhood should have chosen him above all I had known -as the friend of my inmost soul. Never have man's feeling and character -been more cruelly misrepresented than mine. Before God have I sinned, and -I have not hidden my offences before him; but He too knows that the belief -of my brother's alienation and the grief that I was a stranger in the -house of my second father has been the secret wound that to this hour -never closed or healed up. Yes, my dear nephew! I do grieve, and at this -moment I have to struggle hard in order to keep my spirit in tranquillity, -as one who has long since referred his cause to God, through the grief at -my little communication with my family. Had it been otherwise, I might -have been able to shew myself, my _whole_ self, for evil and for good to -my brother, and often have said to myself, "How fearful an attribute to -sinful man is Omniscience!" and yet have I earnestly wished, oh, how many -times! that my brother could have seen my inmost heart, with every thought -and every frailty. But his reward is nigh: in the light and love of his -Lord and Saviour he will soon be all light and love, and I too shall have -his prayers before the throne. May the Almighty and the Spirit the -Comforter dwell in your and your mother's spirit. I must conclude. Only, -if I come and it should please God that your dear father shall be still -awaiting his Redeemer's final call, I shall be perfectly satisfied in all -things to be directed by you and your mother, who will judge best whether -the knowledge of my arrival though without seeing him would or would not -be a satisfaction, would or would not be a disturbance to him. - - Your affectionate uncle, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - Grove, Highgate. - Rev. GEORGE MAY COLERIDGE, - Warden House, Ottery St. Mary, Devon. - - -CCXLVI. TO GEORGE DYER.[204] - -June 6, 1828. - -My dear long known, and long loved friend,--Be assured that neither Mr. -Irving nor any other person, high or low, gentle or simple, stands higher -in my esteem or bears a name endeared to me by more interesting -recollections and associations than yourself; and if gentle man or gentle -woman, taking too literally the partial portraiture of a friend, has a -mind to see the old lion in his sealed cavern, no more potent "Open, -Sesame, Open" will be found than an introduction from George Dyer, my -elder brother under many titles--brother Blue, brother Grecian, brother -Cantab, brother Poet, and last best form of fraternity, a man who has -never in his long life, by tongue or pen, uttered what he did not believe -to be the truth (from any motive) or concealed what he did conceive to be -such from other motives than those of tenderness for the feelings of -others, and a conscientious fear lest what was truly said might be falsely -interpreted,--in all these points I dare claim brotherhood with my old -friend (not omitting grey hairs, which are venerable), but in one point, -the long toilsome life of inexhaustible, unsleeping benevolence and -beneficence, that slept only when there was no form or semblance of -sentient life to awaken it, George Dyer must stand alone! He may have a -few second cousins, but no full brother. - -Now, with regard to your friends, I shall be happy to see them on any day -they may find to suit their or your convenience, from twelve (I am not -ordinarily visible before, or if the outward man were forced to make his -appearance, yet from sundry bodily infirmities, my soul would present -herself with unwashed face) till four, that is, after Monday next,--we -having at present a servant ill in bed, you must perforce be content with -a sandwich lunch or a glass of wine. - -But if you could make it suit you to take your tea, an early tea, at or -before six o'clock, and spend the evening, a long evening, with us on -Thursday next, Mr. and Mrs. Gillman will be most happy to see you and Mrs. -Dyer, with your friends, and you will probably meet some old friend of -yours. On Thursday evening, indeed, at any time, between half-past five -and eleven, you may be sure of finding us at home, and with a very fair -chance of Basil Montagu taking you and Mrs. Dyer back in his coach. - -I have long owed you a letter, and should have long since honestly paid my -debt; but we have had a house of sickness. My own health, too, has been -very crazy and out of repair, and I have had so much work accumulated on -me that I have been like an overtired man roused from insufficient sleep, -who sits on his bedside with one stocking on and the other in his hand, -doing nothing, and thinking what a deal he has to do. - -But I am ever, sick or well, weary or lively, my dear Dyer, your sincere -and affectionate friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCXLVII. TO GEORGE CATTERMOLE.[205] - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, Thursday, August 14, 1828. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I have but this moment received yours of the 13th, and -though there are but ten minutes in my power, if I am to avail myself of -this day's post, I will rather send you a very brief than not an immediate -answer. I shall be much gratified by standing beside the baptismal font as -one of the sponsors of the little pilgrim at his inauguration into the -rights and duties of Immortality, and he shall not want my prayers, nor -aught else that shall be within my power, to assist him in _becoming_ that -of which the Great Sponsor who brought light and immortality into the -world has declared him an emblem. - -There are one or two points of character belonging to me, so, at least, I -believe and trust, which I would gladly communicate with the -name,--earnest love of Truth for its own sake, and steadfast convictions -grounded on faith, not fear, that the religion into which I was baptised -is the Truth, without which all other knowledge ceases to merit the -appellation. As to other things, which yet I most sincerely wish for him, -a more promising augury might be derived from other individuals of the -Coleridge race. - -_Any_ day, that you and your dear wife (to whom present my kindest -remembrances and congratulations) shall find convenient, will suit me, if -only you will be so good as to give me two or three days' knowledge of it. - -Believe me, my dear sir, with sincere respect and regard, - - Your obliged - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. I returned from my seven weeks' Continental tour with Mr. Wordsworth -and his daughter this day last week. We saw the Rhine as high up as -Bingen, Holland, and the Netherlands. - - -CCXLVIII. TO J. H. GREEN. - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, June 1, 1830. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--Do you happen among your acquaintances and connections to -know any one who knows any one who knows Sir Francis Freeling of the Post -Office sufficiently to be authorised to speak a recommendatory word to -him? Our Harriet,[206] whose love and willing-mindedness to _me_-ward -during my long chain of bodily miserablenesses render it my duty no less -than my inclination to shew to her that I am not insensible of her humbly -affectionate attentions, has applied to me in behalf of her brother, a -young man who can have an excellent character, from Lord Wynford and -others, for sobriety, integrity, and discretion, and who is exceedingly -ambitious to get the situation of a postman or deliverer of letters to the -General Post Office. Perhaps, before I see you next, you will be so good -as to tumble over the names of your acquaintances, and if any connection -of Sir Francis' should turn up, to tell me, and if it be right and proper, -to make my request and its motive. - -Dr. Chalmers with his daughter and his very pleasing wife honoured me with -a call this morning, and spent an hour with me, which the good doctor -declared on parting to have been "_a refreshment_" such as he had not -enjoyed for a long season.[207] N. B.--There were no sandwiches; only Mrs. -Aders was present, who is most certainly a _bonne bouche_ for both eye and -ear, and who looks as bright and sunshine-showery as if nothing had ever -ailed her. The main topic of our discourse was Mr. Irving and his unlucky -phantasms and phantis(ms). I was on the point of telling Dr. Chalmers, but -fortunately recollected there were ladies and _Scotch_ ladies present, -that, while other Scotchmen were content with brimstone for the itch, -Irving had a rank itch for brimstone, new-sublimated by addition of fire. -God bless you and your - - Ever obliged and affectionate friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - 30 May? or 1 June? at all events. - Monday night, 11 o'clock. - -P. S.--Kind remembrances to Mrs. Green. I continue pretty well, on the -whole, _considering_, save the soreness across the base of my chest. - - -CCXLIX. TO THOMAS POOLE. - -1830. - -MY DEAR POOLE,--Mr. Stutfield Junr.[208] has been so kind as to inform me -of his father's purposed journey to Stowey, and to give me this -opportunity of writing; though in fact I have little _pleasant_ to say, -except that I am advancing regularly and steadily towards the completion -of my Opus Magnum on Revelation and Christianity, the Reservoir of my -reflections and reading for twenty-five years past, and in health not -painfully worse. I do not know, however, that I should have troubled you -with a letter merely to convey this piece of information, but I have a -great favour to request of you; that is, that, supposing you to have still -in your possession the two letters of the biography of my own childhood -which I wrote at Stowey for you, and a copy of the letter from Germany -containing the account of my journey to the Harz and my ascent of Mount -Brocken, you would have them transcribed, and send me the transcript -addressed to me, James Gillman's Esq., Highgate, London. - -O that riches would but make wings for me instead of for itself, and I -would fly to the seashore at Porlock and Lynmouth, making a good halt at -dear, ever fondly remembered Stowey, of which, believe me, your image and -the feelings and associations connected therewith constitute four fifths, -to, my dear Poole, - - Your obliged and affectionate friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCL. TO MRS. GILLMAN. - -1830. - -DEAR MRS. GILLMAN,--Wife of the friend who has been more than a brother to -me, and who have month after month, yea, hour after hour, for how many -successive years, united in yourself the affections and offices of an -anxious friend and tender sister to me-ward! - -May the Father of Mercies, the God of Health and all Salvation, be your -reward for your great and constant love and loving-kindness to me, abiding -with you and within you, as the Spirit of guidance, support, and -consolation! And may his Grace and gracious Providence bless James and -Henry for your sake, and make them a blessing to you and their father! And -though weighed down by a heavy presentiment respecting my own sojourn -here, I not only hope but have a steadfast faith that God will be your -reward, because your love to me from first to last has begun in, and been -caused by, what appeared to _you_ a translucence of the love of the good, -the true, and the beautiful from within me,--as a relic of glory gleaming -through the turbid shrine of my mortal imperfections and infirmities, as a -Light of Life seen within "the body of this Death,"--because in loving me -you loved our Heavenly Father reflected in the gifts and influences of His -Holy Spirit! - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCLI. TO J. H. GREEN. - -December 15, 1831. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--It is at least a fair moiety of the gratification I feel, -that it will give _you_ so much pleasure to hear from me, that I _tacked_ -about on Monday, continued in smooth water during the whole day, and with -exceptions of about an hour's _muttering_, as if a storm was coming, had a -comfortable night. I was still better on Tuesday, and had no relapse -yesterday. I have so repeatedly given and suffered disappointment, that I -cannot even communicate this gleam of convalescence without a little -fluttering distinctly felt at my heart, and a sort of cloud-shadow of -dejection flitting over me. God knows with what aims, motives, and -aspirations I pray for an interval of ease and competent strength! One of -my present wishes is to form a better nomenclature or terminology. I have -long felt the exceeding inconvenience of the many different meanings of -the term _objective_,--sometimes equivalent to apparent or sensible, -sometimes in opposition to it,--_ex. gr._ "The objectivity is the rain -drops and the reflected light, the iris, is but an appearance." Thus, -sometimes it means real and sometimes unreal, and the worst is, that it -forms an obstacle to the fixation of the great truth, that the perfect -reality is predicable only where actual and real are terms of identity, -that is, where there is no _potential_ being, and that this alone is -absolute reality; and further, of that most fundamental truth, that the -_ground_ of _all_ reality, the objective no less than of the subjective, -is the _Absolute Subject_. How to get out of the difficulty I do not know, -save that some other term must be used as the antithet to phenomenal, -perhaps noumenal. - -James Gillman has passed an unusually strict and long examination for -ordination with great credit, and was selected by the bishop to read the -lessons in the service. The parents are, of course, delighted, and now, my -dear friend, with affectionate remembrances to Mrs. Green, may God bless -you and - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCLII. TO HENRY NELSON COLERIDGE.[209] - -THE GROVE, February 24, 1832. - -My dear Nephew, and by a higher tie, Son, I thank God I have this day been -favoured with such a mitigation of the disease as amounts to a reprieve, -and have had ease enough of sensation to be able to think of what you said -to me from Lockhart, and the result is a wish that you should--that is, if -it appears right to you, and you have no objection of feeling--write for -me to Professor Wilson, offering the Essays, and the motives for the wish -to have them republished, with the authority (if there be no breach of -confidence) of Mr. Lockhart. I cannot with propriety offer them to -_Fraser_, having for a series of years received "Blackwood's Magazine" as -a free gift to me, _until_ I have made the offer to Blackwood. Of course, -my whole and only object is the desire to see them put into the -possibility of becoming useful. But, oh! this is a faint desire, my dear -Henry, compared with that of seeing a fair abstract of the principles I -have advanced respecting the National Church and its revenue, and the -National Clerisy as a coördinate of the State, in the minor and antithetic -sense of the term State! - -I almost despair of the Conservative Party, too truly, I fear, and most -ominously, self-designated _Tories_, and of course half-truthmen! One main -omission both of senators and writers has been, [Greek: hôs emoige dokei], -that they have forgotten to level the axe of their argument at the root, -the true root, yea, trunk of the delusion, by pointing out the true nature -and operation and _modus operandi_ of the taxes in the first instance, and -_then_ and not till then the utter groundlessness, the absurdity of the -presumption that any House of Commons formed otherwise, and consisting of -other men of other ranks, other views or with other interests, than the -present has been for the last twenty years at least, would or could (from -any imaginable cause) have a deeper interest or a stronger desire to -diminish the taxes, as far as the abolition of this or that tax would -increase the ability to pay the remainder. For what are taxes but one of -the forms of circulation? Some a nation must have, or it is no nation. But -he that takes ninepence from me instead of a shilling, but at the same -time and by this very act prevents sixpence from coming into my -pocket,--am I to thank him? Yet such are the only thanks that Mr. Hume and -the Country Squires, his cowardly back-clapping flatterers, can fairly -claim. In my opinion, Hume is an incomparably more mischievous being than -O'Connell and the gang of agitators. They are mere symptomatic and -significative effects, the roars of the inwardly agitated mass of the -popular sea. But Hume is a fermenting virus. But I must end my scrawl. God -bless my dear Sara. Give my love to Mrs. C. and kiss the baby for - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -H. N. COLERIDGE, Esq., 1, New Court, Lincoln's Inn. - - -CCLIII. TO MISS LAWRENCE.[210] - -March 22, 1832. - -MY DEAR MISS LAWRENCE,--You and _dear, dear_ Mrs. Crompton are among the -few sunshiny images that endear my past life to me, and I never think of -you without heartfelt esteem, without affection, and a _yearning_ of my -better being toward you. I have for more than eighteen months been on the -brink of the grave, the object of my wishes, and only not of my prayers, -because I commit myself, poor dark creature, to an Omniscient and -All-merciful, in whom are the issues of life and death,--content, yea, -most thankful, if only His Grace will preserve within me the blessed faith -that He _is_ and is a God that heareth prayers, abundant in forgiveness, -and _therefore_ to be feared, no _fate_, no God as imagined by the -Unitarians, a sort of, I know not what _law-giving_ Law of Gravitation, to -whom prayer would be as idle as to the law of gravity, if an undermined -wall were falling upon me; but "a God that made the eye, and therefore -shall _He_ not see? who made the ear, and shall He not hear?" who made the -heart of man to love Him, and shall He not love the creature whose -ultimate end is to love Him?--a God who _seeketh_ that which was lost, who -calleth back that which had gone astray; who calleth through His own Name; -Word, Son, from everlasting the Way and the _Truth_; and who became man -that for poor fallen mankind he might _be_ (not merely announced but _be_) -the _Resurrection_ and the _Life_,--"Come unto me, all ye that are weary -and heavy-laden, and _I_ will give you rest!" Oh, my dear Miss Lawrence! -prize above all earthly things the faith. I trust that no sophistry of -shallow infra-socinians has quenched it within you,--that God is a God -that heareth prayers. If varied learning, if the assiduous cultivation -of the reasoning powers, if an accurate and minute acquaintance with all -the arguments of controversial writers; if an intimacy with the doctrines -of the Unitarians, which can only be obtained by one who for a year or two -in his early life had been a convert to them, yea, a zealous and by -themselves deemed powerful supporter of their opinions; lastly, if the -utter absence of any imaginable worldly interest that could sway or warp -the mind and affections,--if all these combined can give any weight or -authority to the opinion of a fellow-creature, they will give weight to my -adjuration, sent from my sickbed to you in kind love. O trust, O trust, in -your Redeemer! in the coeternal _Word_, the Only-begotten, the living -_Name_ of the Eternal I AM, Jehovah, Jesus! - -[Illustration] - -I shall endeavour to see Mr. Hamilton.[211] I doubt not his scientific -attainments. I have had proofs of his taste and feeling as a poet, but -believe me, my dear Miss Lawrence! that, should the cloud of distemper -pass from over me, there needs no other passport to a cordial welcome from -me than a line from you importing that he or she possesses your esteem and -regard, and that you wish I should shew attention to them. I cannot make -out your address, which I read "The Grange;" but where that is I know not, -and fear that the Post Office may be as ignorant as myself. I must -therefore delay the direction of my letter till I see Mr. Hamilton; but in -all places, and independent of place, I am, my dear Miss Lawrence, with -most affectionate recollections, - - Your friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -Miss S. LAWRENCE, The Grange, nr. Liverpool. - - -CCLIV. TO THE REV. H. F. CARY. - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, April 22, 1832. - -MY DEAR FRIEND,--For I am sure by my love for you that you love me too -well to have suffered my very rude and uncourteous vehemence of -contradiction and reclamation respecting your advocacy of the Catilinarian -Reform Bill, when we were last together, to have cooled, much less -alienated your kindness; even though the interim had not been a weary, -weary time of groaning and life-loathing for me. But I hope that this -fearful night-storm is subsiding, as you will have heard from Mr. Green or -dear Charles Lamb. I write now to say, that if God, who in His Fatherly -compassion and through His love wherewith He hath beheld and loved me in -Christ, in whom alone He can love the world, hath worked almost a miracle -of grace in and for me by a sudden emancipation from a thirty-three years' -fearful slavery,[212] if God's goodness should in time and so far perfect -my convalescence as that I should be capable of resuming my literary -labours, I have a thought by way of a light _prelude_, a sort of -unstiffening of my long dormant joints and muscles, to give a reprint as -nearly as possible, except in quality of the paper, a facsimile of John -Asgill's tracts with a life and copious notes,[213] to which I would -affix Pastilla et Marginalia. See my MSS. notes, blank leaf and marginal, -on Southey's "Life of Wesley," and sundry other works. Now can you -direct me to any source of information respecting John Asgill, a -prince darling of mine, the most honest of all Whigs, whom at the -close of Queen Anne's reign the scoundrelly Jacobite Tories twice -expelled from Parliament, under the pretext of his incomparable, or -only-with-Rabelais-to-be-compared argument against the base and cowardly -custom of ever dying? And this tract is a very treasure, and never more -usable as a medicine for our clergy, at least all such as the Bishop of -London, Archbishops of Canterbury and of Dublin, the Paleyans and -Mageeites,[214] any one or all of whom I would defy to answer a single -paragraph of Asgill's tract, or unloose a single link from the chain of -logic. I have no biographical dictionary, and never saw one but in a -little sort of one-volume thing. If you can help me in this, do. I give my -kindest love to Mrs. Cary. - -Yours, with unutterable and unuttered love and regard, in all (but as to -the accursed Reform Bill! that _mendacium ingens_ to its own preamble (to -which no human being can be more friendly than I am), that huge tapeworm -_lie_ of some threescore and ten yards) entire sympathy of heart and soul, - - Your affectionate - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCLV. TO JOHN PEIRSE KENNARD.[215] - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, August 13, 1832. - -MY DEAR SIR,--Your letter has announced to me a loss too great, too awful, -for common grief, or any of its ordinary forms and outlets. For more than -an hour after, I remained in a state which I can only describe as a state -of deepest mental silence, neither prayer nor thanksgiving, but a -prostration of absolute faith, as if the Omnipresent were present to me by -a more special intuition, passing all sense and all understanding. Whether -Death be but the cloudy Bridge to the Life beyond, and Adam Steinmetz has -been wafted over it without suspension, or with an immediate resumption of -self-conscious existence, or whether his Life be hidden in God, in the -eternal only-begotten, the Pleroma of all Beings and the _Habitation_ both -of the Retained and the Retrieved, therein in a blessed and most divine -Slumber to grow and evolve into the perfected Spirit,--for sleep is the -appointed season of all growth here below, and God's ordinances in the -earthly may shadow out his ways in the Heavenly,--in either case our -friend is _in God_ and _with God_. Were it possible for me even to _think_ -otherwise,[216] the very grass in the fields would turn black before my -eyes, and nature appear as a skeleton fantastically mossed over beneath -the weeping vault of a charnel house! - -Deeply am I persuaded that for every man born on earth there is an -appointed task, some remedial process in the soul known only to the -Omniscient; and, this through divine grace fulfilled, the sole question is -whether it be needful or expedient for the church that he should still -remain: for the individual himself "to depart and to be with Christ" must -needs be GREAT gain. And of my dear, my filial friend, we may with a -strong and most consoling assurance affirm that he was eminently one - - Who, being innocent, did even for _that_ cause - Bestir him in good deeds! - Wise Virgin He, and wakeful kept his Lamp - Aye trimm'd and full; and thus thro' grace he liv'd - In this bad World as in a place of Tombs, - And touch'd not the Pollutions of the Dead. - -And yet in Christ only did he build a hope. Yea, he blessed the emptiness -that made him capable of his Lord's fullness, gloried in the blindness -that was a receptive of his Master's light, and in the nakedness that -asked to be cloathed with the wedding-garment of his Redeemer's -Righteousness. Therefore say I unto you, my young friend, Rejoice! and -again I say, Rejoice! - -The effect of the event communicated in your letter has been that of awe -and sadness on our whole household. Mrs. Gillman mourns as for a son, but -with that grief which is felt for a departed saint. Even the servants felt -as if an especially loved and honoured member of the family had been -suddenly taken away. When I announced the sad tidings to Harriet, an -almost _unalphabeted_ but very sensible woman, the tears swelled in her -eyes, and she exclaimed, "Ah sir! how many a Thursday night, after Mr. -Steinmetz was gone, and I had opened the door for him, I have said to them -below, 'That dear young man is too amiable to live. God will soon have him -back.'" These were her very words. Nor were my own anticipations of his -recall less distinct or less frequent. Not once or twice only, after he -had shaken hands with me on leaving us, I have turned round with the tear -on my cheek, and whispered to Mrs. Gillman, "Alas! there is _Death_ in -that dear hand."[217] - -My dear sir! if our society can afford any comfort to _you_, as that of so -dear a friend of Adam Steinmetz cannot but be to _us_, I beseech you in my -own name, and am intreated by Mr. and Mrs. Gillman to invite you, to be -his representative for us, and to take his place in our circle. And I must -further request that you do not confine yourself to any particular evening -of the week (for which there is now no reason), but that you consult your -own convenience and opportunities of leisure. At whatever hour he comes, -the fraternal friend of Adam Steinmetz will ever be dear and most welcome -to - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE BEGINNING OF THE END - -1833-1834 - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE BEGINNING OF THE END - -1833-1834 - - -CCLVI. TO J. H. GREEN. - -Sunday night, April 8, 1833. - -It is seldom, my dearest friend, that I find myself differing from you in -judgements of any sort. It is more than seldom that I am left in doubt and -query on any judgement of yours of a _practical_ nature, for on the good -ground of some sixteen or more years' experience I feel a take-for-granted -faith in the dips and pointings of the needle in every decision of your -_total_ mind. But in the instance you spoke of this afternoon, viz., your -persistent rebuttal of the Temperance Society Man's Request, though I do -not feel _sure_ that you are not in the right, yet I do feel as if I -should have been more delighted and more satisfied if you had intimated -your compliance with it. I feel that in this case I should have had _no_ -doubt; but that my mind would have leapt forwards with content, like a key -to a loadstone. - -Assuredly you might, at least you would, have a very promising chance of -effecting considerable _good_, and you might have commenced your address -with your own remark of the superfluity of any light of information -afforded to an habitual dram-drinker respecting the unutterable evil and -misery of his thraldom. As wisely give a physiological lecture to convince -a man of the pain of burns, while he is lying with his head on the bars of -the fire-grate, instead of snatching him off. But in stating this, you -might most effectingly and preventively for others describe the misery of -that condition in which the impulse waxes as the motive wanes. (Mem. There -is a striking passage in my "Friend" on this subject,[218] and a no less -striking one in a schoolboy theme of mine[219] now in Gillman's -possession, and in my own hand, written when I was fourteen, with the -simile of the treacherous current of the Maelstrom.) But this might give -occasion for the suggestion of one new charitable institution, under -authority of a legislative act, namely, a _Maison de Santé_ (what do the -French call it?) for lunacy and idiocy of the _will_, in which, with the -full consent of, or at the direct instance of the patient himself, and -with the concurrence of his friends, such a person under the certificate -of a physician might be placed under medical and moral coercion. I am -convinced that London would furnish a hundred volunteers in as many days -from the gin-shops, who would swallow their glass of poison in order to -get courage to present themselves to the hospital in question. And a -similar institution might exist for a higher class of will-maniacs or -impotents. Had such a house of health been in existence, I know who would -have entered himself as a patient some five and twenty years ago. - -Second class. To the persons still capable of self-cure; and lastly, to -the young who have only begun, and not yet begun--[add to this] the -urgency of connecting the Temperance Society with the Christian churches -of all denominations,--the _classes_ known to each other, and deriving -strength from _religion_. This is a beautiful part, or might have been -made so, of the Wesleyan Church. - -These are but raw hints, but unless the mercy of God should remove me from -my sufferings earlier than I dare hope or pray for, we will talk the -subject over again; as well as the reason _why_ spirits in any form as -such are so much more dangerous, morally and in relation to the forming a -habit, than beer or wine. Item: if a government were truly fraternal, a -healthsome and sound beer would be made universal; aye, and for the lower -half of the middle classes wine might be imported, good and generous, from -sixpence to eightpence per quart. - -God bless you and your ever affectionate - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCLVII. TO MRS. ADERS.[220] - -[1833.] - -MY DEAR MRS. ADERS,--By my illness or oversight I have occasioned a very -sweet vignette to have been made in vain--except for its own beauty. Had I -sent you the lines that were to be written on the upright tomb, you and -our excellent Miss Denman would have, first, seen the dimension requisite -for letters of a distinctly visible and legible size; and secondly, that -the homely, plain _Church-yard Christian_ verses would not be in keeping -with a Muse (though a lovelier I never wooed), nor with a lyre or harp or -laurel, or aught else _Parnassian_ and allegorical. A rude old yew-tree, -or a mountain ash, with a grave or two, or any other characteristic of a -village rude church-yard,--such a hint of a landscape was all I meant; but -if any figure, rather that of an elderly man - - Thoughtful, with quiet tears upon his cheek. - -(Tombless Epitaph. See "Sibylline Leaves.") - -But I send the lines, and you and Miss Denman will form your own opinion. - -Is one of Wyville's proofs of my face worth Mr. Aders' acceptance? I wrote -under the one I sent to Henry Coleridge the line from Ovid, with the -translation, thus: - - S. T. COLERIDGE, ÆTAT. SUÆ 63. - - Not / handsome / was / but / was / eloquent / - "Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses." - - _Translation._ - - "In truth, he's no Beauty!" cry'd Moll, Poll, and Tab; - But they all of them own'd He'd the gift of the Gab. - -My best love to Mr. Aders, and believe that as I have been, so I ever -remain your affectionate and trusty friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - -P. S. _I_ like the tombstone very much. - -[Illustration] - -The lines when printed would probably have on the preceding page the -advertisement-- - -EPITAPH ON A POET LITTLE KNOWN, YET BETTER KNOWN BY THE INITIALS OF HIS -NAME THAN BY THE NAME ITSELF. - -S. T. C. - - Stop, Christian Passer-by! Stop, Child of God! - And read with gentle heart. Beneath this sod - A Poet lies: or that, which once seem'd He. - O lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C. - That He, who many a year with toilsome breath - Found Death in Life, may here find Life in Death. - Mercy for Praise--_to be forgiven_ for Fame - He ask'd, and hoped thro' Christ. DO THOU the Same. - - -CCLVIII. TO JOHN STERLING.[221] - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, October 30, 1833. - -MY DEAR SIR,--I very much regret that I am not to see you again for so -many months. Many a fond dream have I amused myself with, of your -residing near me or in the same house, and of preparing, with your and Mr. -Green's assistance, my whole system for the press, as far as it exists in -writing in any _systematic_ form; that is, beginning with the Propyleum, -On the power and use of Words, comprising Logic, as the canons of -_Conclusion_, as the criterion of _Premises_, and lastly as the discipline -and evolution of Ideas (and then the Methodus et Epochee, or the -Disquisition on God, Nature, and Man), the two first grand divisions of -which, from the Ens super Ens to the _Fall_, or from God to Hades, and -then from Chaos to the commencement of living organization, containing the -whole scheme of the Dynamic Philosophy, and the deduction of the Powers -and Forces, are complete; as is likewise a third, _composed_ for the -greater part by Mr. Green, on the "Application of the Ideas, as the -_Transcendents_ of the Truths, Duties, Affections, etc., in the Human -Mind." If I could once publish these (but, alas! even these could not be -compressed in less than three octavo volumes), I should then have no -objection to print my MS. papers on "Positive Theology, from Adam to -Abraham, to Moses, the Prophets, Christ and Christendom." But this is a -dream! I am, however, very seriously disposed to employ the next two -months in preparing for the press a metrical translation (if I find it -practicable) of the Apocalypse, with an introduction on the "Use and -Interpretation of Scriptures." I am encouraged to this by finding how much -of _original_ remains in my views after I have subtracted all I have in -common with Eichhorn and Heinrichs. I write now to remind you, or to beg -you to recall to my memory the name of the more recent work (Lobeck?) -which you mentioned to me, and whether you can procure it for me, or -rather the loan of it. Likewise, whether you know of any German -translation and commentary on Daniel, that is thought highly of? I find -Gesenius' version exceedingly interesting, and look forward to the -Commentaries with delight. You mentioned some works on the numerical -Cabbala, the Gematria (I think) they call it. But I must not scribble away -your patience, and after I have heard from you from Cambridge I will try -to write to you more to the purpose (for I did not begin this scrawl till -the hour had passed that ought to have found me in bed). - - With sincere regard, your obliged friend, - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -CCLIX. TO MISS ELIZA NIXON.[222] - -July 9, 1834. - -MY DEAR ELIZA,--The three volumes of Miss Edgeworth's "Helen" ought to -have been sent in to you last night, and are marked as having been _so -sent_. And indeed, knowing how much noise this work was making and the -great interest it had excited, I should not have been so selfish as to -have retained them on my own account. But Mrs. Gillman is very anxious -that I should read it, and has made me promise to write my remarks on it, -and such reflections as the contents may suggest, which, in awe of the -precisians of the Book Society, I shall put down on separate paper. The -young people were so eager to read it, that with my slow and interrupted -style of reading, it would have been cruel not to give them the priority. -Mrs. Gillman flatters me that you and your sisters will think a copy of my -remarks some compensation for the delay. - -God bless you, my dear young friend. You, I know, will be gratified to -learn, and in my own writing, the still timid but still strengthening and -brightening dawn of convalescence with the last eight days. - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - -July 9, 1834. - -The two volumes[223] that I send you are making a rumour, and are highly -and I believe justly extolled. They are written by a friend of mine,[224] -a remarkably handsome young man whom you may have seen on one of our -latest Thursday evening conversazioni. I have not yet read them, but keep -them till I send in "Helen," and longer, if you should not have finished -them. - - -CCLX. TO ADAM STEINMETZ KENNARD. - -GROVE, HIGHGATE, July 13, 1834. - -MY DEAR GODCHILD,--I offer up the same fervent prayer for you now as I did -kneeling before the altar when you were baptized into Christ, and solemnly -received as a living member of His spiritual body, the church. Years must -pass before you will be able to read with an understanding heart what I -now write. But I trust that the all-gracious God, the Father of our Lord -Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, who by His only-begotten Son (all -mercies in one sovereign mercy!) has redeemed you from evil ground, and -willed you to be born out of darkness, but into light; out of death, but -into life; out of sin, but into righteousness; even into "the Lord our -righteousness,"--I trust that He will graciously hear the prayers of your -dear parents, and be with you as the spirit of health and growth, in body -and in mind. My dear godchild, you received from Christ's minister at the -baptismal font, as your Christian name, the name of a most dear friend of -your father's, and who was to me even as a son,--the late Adam Steinmetz, -whose fervent aspirations and paramount aim, even from early youth, was to -be a Christian in thought, word, and deed; in will, mind, and affections. -I, too, your godfather, have known what the enjoyment and advantages of -this life are, and what the more refined pleasures which learning and -intellectual power can give; I now, on the eve of my departure, declare to -you, and earnestly pray that you may hereafter live and act on the -conviction, that health is a great blessing; competence, obtained by -honourable industry, a great blessing; and a great blessing it is, to have -kind, faithful, and loving friends and relatives; but that the greatest of -all blessings, as it is the most ennobling of all privileges, is to be -indeed a Christian. But I have been likewise, through a large portion of -my later life, a sufferer, sorely affected with bodily pains, languor, -and manifold infirmities; and for the last three or four years have, with -few and brief intervals, been confined to a sick-room, and at this moment, -in great weakness and heaviness, write from a sickbed, hopeless of -recovery, yet without prospect of a speedy removal. And I thus, on the -brink of the grave, solemnly bear witness to you, that the Almighty -Redeemer, most gracious in His promises to them that truly seek Him, is -faithful to perform what He has promised; and has reserved, under all -pains and infirmities, the peace that passeth all understanding, with the -supporting assurance of a reconciled God, who will not withdraw His spirit -from me in the conflict, and in His own time will deliver me from the evil -one. Oh, my dear godchild! eminently blessed are they who begin _early_ to -seek, fear, and love their God, trusting wholly in the righteousness and -mediation of their Lord, Redeemer, Saviour, and everlasting High Priest, -Jesus Christ. Oh, preserve this as a legacy and bequest from your unseen -godfather and friend, - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -INDEX - - - Abergavenny, 410. - - Abergavenny, Earl of, wreck of the, 494 n.; - 495 n. - - Abernethy, Dr. John, 525; - C. determines to place himself under the care of, 564, 565. - - Achard, F. C., 299 and note. - - Acland, Sir John, 523 and note. - - Acting, 621-623. - - Acton, 184, 186-188, 191. - - Adams, Dr. Joseph, 442 and note. - - Addison's _Spectator_, studied by C. in connection with _The Friend_, - 557, 558. - - _Address on the Present War, An_, 85 n. - - _Address to a Young Jackass and its Tethered Mother_, 119 and note, 120. - - Aders, Mrs., 701 n., 702 n., 752; - letters from C., 701, 769. - - Adscombe, 175, 184, 188. - - Advising, the rage of, 474, 475. - - Adye, Major, 493. - - _Æschylus, Essay on the Prometheus of_, 740 and note. - - _Aids to Reflection_, 688 n.; - preparation and publication of, 734 n., 738; - C. calls Stuart's attention to certain passages in, 741; - favourable opinions of, 741; - 756 n. - - Ainger, Rev. Alfred, 400 n. - - Akenside, Mark, 197. - - Albuera, the Battle of, C.'s articles on, 567 and note. - - Alfoxden, 10 n.; - Wordsworth settles at, 224, 227; - 326, 515. - - Alison's _History of Europe_, 628 n. - - Allen, Robert, 41 and note, 45, 47, 50; - extract from a letter from him to C., 57 n.; - 63, 75, 83, 126; - appointed deputy-surgeon to the Second Royals, 225 and note; - letter to C., 225 n. - - Allsop, Mrs., 733 n. - - Allsop, Thomas, friendship and correspondence with C., 695, 696; - publishes C.'s letters after his death, 696; - his _Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of S. T. Coleridge_, - 41 n., 527 n., 675 n., 696 and note, 698 n., 721 n.; - 711; - C.'s letter of Oct. 8, 1822, 721 n.; - letter from C., 696. - - Allston, Washington, 523; - his bust of C., 570 n., 571; - his portraits of C., 572 and note; - his art and moral character, 573, 574; - 581, 633; - his genius and his misfortunes, 650; - 695 and notes; - letter from C., 498. - - Ambleside, 335; - Lloyd settles at, 344; - 577, 578. - - America, proposed emigration of C. and other pantisocrats to, 81, 88-91, - 98, 101-103, 146; - prospects of war with England, 91; - 241; - progress of religious deism in, 414; - C.'s letter concerning the inevitableness of a war with, 629. - - Amtmann of Ratzeburg, the, 264, 268, 271. - - _Amulet, The_, 257. - - _Ancient Mariner, The_, 81 n.; - written in a dream or dreamlike reverie, 245 n.; - 696. - - _Animal Vitality, Essay on_, by Thelwall, 179, 212. - - _Annual Anthology_, the, edited by Southey, 207 n., 226 n., 295 n., - 298 n.; - C. suggests a classification of poems in, 313, 314, 317; - 318, 320, 322 and note, 330, 331, 748 n. - - _Annual Review_, 488, 489, 522. - - _Anti-Jacobin, The Beauties of the_, its libel on C., 320 and note. - - _Antiquary, The_, by Scott, C.'s portrait introduced into an - illustration for, 736 and note. - - _Ants, Treatise on_, by Huber, 712. - - _Ardinghello_, by Heinse, 683 and note. - - Arnold, Mr., 602, 603. - - Arrochar, 432 and note. - - Arthur's Crag, 439. - - A-seity, 688 and note. - - Asgill, John, and his Treatises, 761 and note. - - Ashburton, 305 n. - - Ashe, Thomas, his _Miscellanies, Æsthetic and Literary_, 633 n. - - Ashley, C. with the Morgans at, 631. - - Ashley, Lord, and the Ten Hours Bills, 689 n. - - Ashton, 140 and note. - - _As late I roamed through Fancy's shadowy vale_, a sonnet, 116 n., 118. - - Atheism, 161, 162, 167, 199, 200. - - _Athenæum, The_, 206 n., 536 n., 753 n. - - _Atlantic Monthly_, 206 n. - - Autobiographical letters from C. to Thomas Poole, 3-21. - - - Baader, Franz Xavier von, 683 and note. - - Babb, Mr., 422. - - Bacon, Lord, his _Novum Organum_, 735. - - Badcock, Mr., 21. - - Badcock, Harry, 22. - - Badcock, Sam, 22. - - Bala, 79. - - Ball, Lady, 494 n., 497. - - Ball, Sir Alexander John, 484, 487, 496, 497; - mutual regard of C. and, 508 n.; - 524, 554; - C.'s narrative of his life, 579 n.; - his opinions of Lady Nelson and Lady Hamilton, 637. - - _Ballad of the Dark Ladie, The_, 375. - - Bampfylde, John Codrington Warwick, his genius, originality, and - subsequent lunacy, 309 and note; - his _Sixteen Sonnets_, 309 n. - - Banfill, Mr., 306. - - Barbauld, Anna Lætitia, 317 n. - - _Barbou Casimir, The_, 67 and notes, 68. - - Barlow, Caleb, 38. - - Barr, Mr., his children, 154. - - Barrington, Hon. and Rt. Rev. John Shute, Bishop of Durham, 582 and note. - - Bassenthwaite Lake, 335, 376 n.; - sunset over, 384. - - _Beard, On Mrs. Monday's_, 9 n. - - Beaumont, Lady, 459, 573, 580, 592, 593; - procures subscribers to C.'s lectures, 599; - 644, 645, 739, 741; - letter from C., 641. - - Beaumont, Sir George, 440 n., 462; - his affection for C. preceded by dislike, 468; - 493; - extract from a letter from Wordsworth on John Wordsworth's death, - 494 n.; - 496; - lends the Wordsworths his farmhouse near Coleorton, 509 n.; - 579-581; - C. explains the nature of his quarrel with Wordsworth to, 592, 593; - 595 n., 629; - on Allston as an historical painter, 633; - 739, 741; - letter from C., 570. - - _Beauties of the Anti-Jacobin, The_, its libel on C., 320 and note. - - Becky Fall, 305 n. - - Beddoes, Dr. Thomas, 157, 211, 338; - C.'s grief at his death, 543 and note, 544 and note; - his advice and sympathy in response to C.'s confession, 543 n.; - his character. 544. - - Bedford, Grosvenor, 400 n. - - Beet sugar, 299 and note. - - Beguines, the, 327 n. - - Bell, Rev. Andrew, D. D., 575, 582 and note, 605; - his _Origin, Nature, and Object of the New System of Education_, 581 - and note, 582. - - _Bell, Rev. Andrew, Life of_, by R. and C. C. Southey, 581 n. - - Bellingham, John, 598 n. - - Bell-ringing in Germany, 293. - - Belper, Lord (Edward Strutt), 215 n. - - Bennett, Abraham, his electroscope, 218 n., 219 n. - - Bentley's Quarto Edition of Horace, 68 and note. - - Benvenuti, 498, 499. - - _Benyowski, Count, or the Conspiracy of Kamtschatka, a Tragi-comedy_, by - Kotzebue, 236 and note. - - Berdmore, Mr., 80, 82. - - Bernard, Sir Thomas, 579 and notes, 580, 582, 585, 595 n., 599. - - _Betham, Matilda, To. From a Stranger_, 404 n. - - _Bible, The_, as literature, C.'s opinion of, 200; - slovenly hexameters in, 398. - - Bibliography, Southey's proposed work, 428-430. - - _Bibliotheca Britannica, or an History of British Literature_, a - proposed work, 425-427, 429, 430. - - Bigotry, 198. - - Billington, Mrs. Elizabeth Weichsel, 368. - - Bingen, 751. - - _Biographia Literaria_, 3, 68 n., 74 n., 152 n., 164 n., 174 n., 232 n., - 257, 320 n., 498 n., 607 n., 669 n., 670 n.; - C. ill-used by the printer of, 673, 674; - 679, 756 n. - - Birmingham, 151, 152. - - Bishop's Middleham, 358 and note, 360. - - _Blackwood's Magazine_, 756. - - Blake, William, as poet, painter, and engraver, 685 n., 686 n.; - C.'s criticism of his poems and their accompanying illustrations, - 686-688; - his _Songs of Innocence and Experience_, 686 n. - - Bloomfield, Robert, 395. - - Blumenbach, Prof., 279, 298. - - _Book of the Church, The_, 724. - - Books, C.'s early taste in, 11 and note, 12; - in later life, 180, 181. - - Booksellers, C.'s horror of, 548. - - Borrowdale, 431. - - Borrowdale mountains, the, 370. - - _Botany Bay Eclogues_, by Robert Southey, 76 n., 116. - - Bourbons, C.'s Essay on the restoration of the, 629 and note. - - Bourne, Sturges, 542. - - Bovey waterfall, 305 n. - - Bowdon, Anne, marries Edward Coleridge, 53 n. - - Bowdon, Betsy, 18. - - Bowdon, John (C.'s uncle), C. goes to live with, 18, 19. - - Bowdons, the, C.'s mother's family, 4. - - Bowles, the surgeon, 212. - - _Bowles, To_, 111. - - Bowles, Rev. William Lisle, C.'s admiration for his poems, 37, 42, 179; - 63 n., 76 and note; - C.'s sonnet to, 111 and note; - 115; - his sonnets, 177; - his _Hope, an Allegorical Sketch_, 179, 180; - 196, 197, 211; - his translation of Dean Ogle's Latin Iambics, 374 and note; - school life at Winchester, 374 n.; - C.'s, Southey's, and Sotheby's admiration of, and its effect on their - poems, 396; - borrows a line from a poem of C.'s, 396; - his second volume of poems, 403, 404; - 637, 638, 650-652. - - Bowscale, the mountain, 339. - - Box, 631. - - Boyce, Anne Ogden, her _Records of a Quaker Family_, 538 n. - - Boyer, Rev. James, 61, 113, 768 n. - - Brahmin creed, the, 229. - - Brandes, Herr von, 279. - - Brandl's _Samuel Taylor Coleridge and the English Romantic School_, 258, - 674 n., 740 n. - - Bratha, 394, 535. - - Bray, near Maidenhead, 69, 70. - - Brazil, Emperor of, an enthusiastic student and admirer of C., 696. - - Bread-riots, 643 n. - - Brecon, 410, 411. - - Bremhill, 650. - - Brent, Mr., 598, 599. - - Brent, Miss Charlotte, 520, 524-526; - C.'s affection for, 565; - 577, 585, 600, 618, 643, 722 n.; - letter from C., 722. - _See_ Morgan family, the. - - Brentford, 326, 673 n. - - Bridgewater, 164. - - Bright, Henry A., 245 n. - - Bristol, C.'s bachelor life in, 133-135; - 138, 139, 163 n., 166, 167, 184, 326, 414, 520, 572 n., 621, 623, 624. - - _Bristol Journal_, 633 n. - - _British Critic_, the, 350. - - Brookes, Mr., 80, 82. - - _Brothers, The_, by Wordsworth, the original of Leonard in, 494 n.; - C. accused of borrowing a line from, 609 n. - - Brown, John, printer and publisher of _The Friend_, 542 n. - - Brun, Frederica, C.'s indebtedness to her for the framework of the _Hymn - before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni_, 405 n. - - Bruno, Giordano, 371. - - Brunton, Miss, 86 and note, 87, 89; - verses to, 94. - - Brunton, Elizabeth, 86 n. - - Brunton, John, 86 n., 87. - - Brunton, Louisa, 86 n. - - Bryant, Jacob, 216 n., 219. - - Buchan, Earl of, 139. - - Buclé, Miss, 136. - _See_ Cruikshank, Mrs. John. - - Buller, Sir Francis (Judge), 6 n.; - obtains a Christ's Hospital Presentation for C., 18. - - Buonaparte, 308, 327 n., 329 and note; - his animosity against C., 498 n.; - 530 n.; - C.'s cartoon and lines on, 642. - - Burdett, Sir Francis, 598. - - Burke, Edmund, C.'s sonnet to, 116 n., 118; - his _Letter to a Noble Lord_, 157 and note; - Thelwall on, 166; - 177. - - Burnett, George, 74, 121, 140-142, 144-151, 174 n., 325, 467. - - Burns, Robert, 196; - C.'s poem on, 206 and note, 207. - - Burton, 326. - - Burton's _Anatomy of Melancholy_, 428. - - Busts of C., 570 n., 571, 695 n. - - Butler, Samuel (afterwards Head Master of Shrewsbury and Bishop of - Lichfield), 46 and note. - - Buttermere, 393. - - Byron, Lord, his _Childe Harold_, 583; - 666, 694, 726. - - _Byron, Lord, Conversations of_, by Capt. Thomas Medwin, 735 and note. - - - Cabriere, Miss, 18. - - Caermarthen, 411. - - Caldbeck, 376 n., 724. - - Calder, the river, 339. - - Caldwell, Rev. George, 25 and note, 29, 71, 82. - - Calne, Wiltshire, C.'s life at, 641-653. - - Calvert, Raisley, 345 n. - - Calvert, William, proposes to study chemistry with C. and Wordsworth, - 345; - his portrait in a poem of Wordsworth's, 345 n.; - proposes to share his new house near Greta Hall with Wordsworth and - his sister, 346; - his sense and ability, 346; - 347, 348. - - Cambridge, description of, 39; - 137, 270. - - _Cambridge, Reminiscences of_, by Henry Gunning, 24 n., 363 n. - - _Cambridge Intelligencer, The_, 93 n., 218 n. - - Cambridge University, C.'s life at, 22-57, 70-72, 81-129; - C. thinks of leaving, 97 n.; - 137. - - Cameos and intaglios, casts of, 703 and note. - - Campbell, James Dykes, 251 n., 337 n.; - his _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, 269 n., 527 n., 572 n., 600 n., 631 n., - 653 n., 666 n., 667 n., 674 n., 681 n., 684 n., 698 n., 752 n., - 753 n., 772 n. - - Canary Islands, 417, 418. - - Canning, George, 542, 674. - - Canova, Antonio, on Allston's modelling, 573. - - Cape Esperichel, 473. - - Carlisle, Sir Anthony, 341 and note. - - Carlton House, 392. - - Carlyle, Thomas, his portrait of C. in the _Life of Sterling_, 771 n. - - Carlyon, Clement, M. D., his _Early Years and Late Recollections_, 258, - 298 n. - - Carnosity, Mrs., 472. - - Carrock, the mountain, a tempest on, 339, 340. - - Carrock man, the, 339. - - Cartwright, Major John, 635 and note. - - Cary, Rev. Henry, his _Memoir of H. F. Cary_, 676 n. - - _Cary, H. F., Memoir of_, by Henry Cary, 676 n. - - Cary, Rev. H. F., his translation of the _Divina Commedia_, 676, 677 and - note, 678, 679; - C. introduces himself to, 676 n.; - 685, 699; - letters from C., 676, 677, 731, 760. - - _Casimir, the Barbou_, 67 and notes, 68. - - Castlereagh, Lord, 662. - - _Castle Spectre, The_, a play by Monk Lewis, C.'s criticism of, 236 and - note, 237, 238; - 626. - - Catania, 458. - - Cat-serenades in Malta, 483 n., 484 n. - - Catherine II., Empress of Russia, 207 n. - - Cathloma, 51. - - Catholic Emancipation, C.'s Letters to Judge Fletcher on, 629 and note, - 634 and note, 635, 636, 642. - - Catholicism in Germany, 291, 292. - - Catholic question, the, letters in the _Courier_ on, 567 and note; - C. proposes to again write for the _Courier_ on, 660, 662; - arrangements for the proposed articles on, 664, 665. - - Cattermole, George, 750 n.; - letter from C., 750. - - Cattermole, Richard, 750 n. - - Cattle, disposal of dead and sick, in Germany, 294. - - Chalmers, Rev. Thomas, D. D., calls on C., 752 and note. - - Chantrey, Mr. (afterwards Sir) Francis, R. A., C.'s impressions of, 699; - 727. - - Chapman, Mr., appointed Public Secretary of Malta, 491, 496. - - _Character, A_, 631 n. - - _Charity_, 110 n. - - _Chatterton, Monody on the Death of_, 110 n., 158 n.; - C.'s opinion of it in 1797, 222, 223; - 620 n. - - Chatterton, Thomas, unpopularity of his poems, 221, 222; - Southey's exertions in aid of his sister, 221, 222. - - Chemistry, C. proposes to study, 345-347. - - Chepstow, 139, 140 n. - - Chester, John, accompanies C. to Germany, 259; - 265, 267, 269 n., 272, 280, 281, 300. - - _Childe Harold_, by Byron, 583. - - Childhood, memory of, in old age, 428. - - Children in cotton factories, legislation as to the employment of, 689 - and note. - - Christ, both God and man, 710. - - _Christabel_, written in a dream or dreamlike reverie, 245 n.; - 310, 313, 317, 337 and note, 342, 349; - Conclusion to Part II., 355 and note, 356 n.; - Part II., 405 n.; - a fine edition proposed, 421, 422; - 437 n., 523; - C. quotes from, 609, 610; - the broken friendship commemorated in, 609 n.; - the copyright of, 669; - the _Edinburgh Review's_ unkind criticism of, 669 and note, 670; - Mr. Frere advises C. to finish, 674; - 696. - - _Christianity, the one true Philosophy_ (C.'s _magnum opus_), outline - of, 632, 633; - fragmentary remains of, 632 n.; - the sole motive for C.'s wish to live, 668; - J. H. Green helps to lay the foundations of, 679 n.; - 694, 753; - plans for, 772, 773. - - _Christian Observer_, 653 n. - - _Christmas Carol, A_, 330. - - _Christmas Indoors in North Germany_, 257, 275 n. - - _Christmas Out of Doors_, 257. - - Christmas-tree, the German, 289, 290. - - Christ's Hospital, C.'s life at, 18-22; - 173 n. - - _Christ's Hospital Five and Thirty Years Ago_, by Charles Lamb, 20 n. - - _Christ's Hospital, List of Exhibitioners, from 1566-1885_, 41 n. - - _Chronicle, Morning_, 111 n., 114, 116 n., 119 n., 126, 162, 167, 505, - 506, 606 n., 615, 616. - - Chubb, Mr., of Bridgwater, 231. - - _Church, The Book of the_, by Southey, 724. - - Church, the English, 135, 306, 651-653, 676, 757. - - Church, the Scottish, in a state of ossification, 744, 745. - - Church, the Wesleyan, 769. - - Cibber, Colley, and his son, Theophilus, 693. - - Cibber, Theophilus, his reply to his father, 693. - - Cintra, Wordsworth's pamphlet on the Convention of, 534 and note, 543 - and note; - C.'s criticism of, 548-550. - - Clagget, Charles, 70 and note. - - Clare, Lord, 638. - - Clarke, Mrs., the notorious, 543 n. - - Clarkson, Mrs., 592. - - Clarkson, Thomas, 363, 398; - his _History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade_, 527 and note, - 528-530; - his character, 529, 530; - C.'s review of his book, 535, 536; - 538 n., 547, 548; - on the second rupture between C. and Wordsworth, 599 n. - - Clement, Mr., a bookseller, 548. - - Clergyman, an earnest young, 691. - - Clevedon, C.'s honeymoon at, 136. - - Clock, a motto for a market, 553 and note, 554 n. - - Coates, Matthew, 441 n.; - his belief in the impersonality of the deity, 444; - letter from C., 441. - - Coates, Mrs. Matthew, 442, 443. - - Cobham, 673 n. - - Cole, Mrs., 271. - - _Coleorton, Memorials of_, 369 n., 440. - - Coleorton Farmhouse, C.'s visit to the Wordsworths at, 509-514. - - Coleridge, Anne (sister--usually called "Nancy"), 8 and note, 21, 26. - - Coleridge, Berkeley (son), birth of, 247 and note, 248, 249; - taken with smallpox, 259 n., 260 n.; - 262, 267, 272; - death of, 247 n., 282-287, 289. - - Coleridge, David Hartley (son--usually called "Hartley"), birth of, 169; - 176, 205, 213, 220, 231, 245, 260-262, 267 n., 289, 296, 305, 318; - his talkativeness and boisterousness at the age of three, 321; - his theologico-astronomical hypothesis as to stars, 323; - a pompous remark by, 332; - illness, 342, 343; - early astronomical observations, 342, 343; - an extraordinary creature, 343, 344; - 345 n., 355, 356 n., 359; - a poet in spite of his low forehead, 395; - 408, 413, 416, 421; - at seven years, 443; - plans for his education, 461, 462; - 468, 508; - visits the Wordsworths at Coleorton Farmhouse with his father, 509-514; - as a traveller, 509; - his character at ten years, 510, 512; - 511; - under his father's sole care for four or five months, 511 n.; - spends five or six weeks with his father and the Wordsworths at Basil - Montagu's house in London, 511 n.; - portraits of, 511 n.; - 521; - his appearance, behavior, and mental acuteness at the age of thirteen, - 564; - at fifteen, 576, 577; - at Mr. Dawes's school, 576 and note, 577; - 583 n.; - friendly relations with his cousins, 675 and note; - C. asks Poole to invite him to Stowey, 675; - visits Stowey, 675 n.; - 684, 721, 726; - letter of advice from S. T. C., 511. - - Coleridge, Derwent (son of S. T. C. and father of the editor), birth - baptism of, 338 and note; - 344, and 355, 359; - learns his letters, 393, 395; - 408, 413, 416; - at three years, 443; - 462, 468, 521; - at nine years, 564; - at eleven years, 576, 577; - at Mr. Dawes's school, 576 and note, 577; - 580, 605 n., 671 n.; - John Hookham Frere's assistance in sending him to Cambridge, 675 and - note; - 707, 711. - - Coleridge, Miss Edith, 670 n. - - Coleridge, Edward (brother), 7, 53-55, 699 n. - - Coleridge, Rev. Edward (nephew), 724 n.; - letters from C., 724, 738, 744. - - Coleridge, Frances Duke (niece), 726 and note, 740. - - Coleridge, Francis Syndercombe (brother), 8, 9, 11, 12, 13; - his boyish quarrel with S. T. C., 13, 14; - becomes a midshipman, 17; - dies, 53 and note. - - Coleridge, Frederick (nephew), 56. - - Coleridge, Rev. George (brother), 7, 8; - his character and ability, 8; - 12, 21 n., 25 n.; - his lines to Genius, _Ibi Hæc Incondita Solus_, 43 n.; - 59; - his self-forgetting economy, 65; - extract from a letter from J. Plampin, 70 n.; - 95, 97 n., 98 and note, 261; - visit from S. T. C. and his wife, 305 n., 306; - 467, 498 n., 512; - disapproves of S. T. C.'s intended separation from his wife and refuses - to receive him and his family into his house, 523 and note; - 699 n.; - approaching death of, 746-748; - S. T. C.'s relations with, 747, 748; - letters from S. T. C., 22, 23, 42, 53, 55, 59, 60, 62-70, 103, 239. - - _Coleridge, the Rev. George, To_, a dedication, 223 and note. - - Coleridge, Rev. George May (nephew), his friendly relations with Hartley - C., 675 and note; - letter from C., 746. - - _Coleridge, Hartley, Poems of_, 511 n. - - Coleridge, Henry Nelson (nephew and son-in-law), 3, 553 n., 570 n., 579 - n., 744-746; - sketch of his life, 756 n.; - letter from S. T. C., 756. - - Coleridge, Mrs. Henry Nelson (Sara Coleridge), 9 n., 163 n.; - extract from a letter from Mrs. Wordsworth, 220 n.; - 320 n., 327 n., 572 n. - - Coleridge, James, the younger, (nephew), his narrow escape, 56. - - Coleridge, Colonel James (brother), 7, 54, 56, 61, 306, 724 n., 726 n.; - letter from S. T. C., 61. - - Coleridge, Mrs. James (sister-in-law), 740. - - Coleridge, John (brother), 7. - - Coleridge, John (grandfather), 4, 5. - - Coleridge, Mrs. John (mother), 5 n., 7, 13-17, 21 n., 25, 56; - letter from S. T. C., 21. - - Coleridge, Rev. John (father), 5 and note, 6, 7, 10-12, 15, 16; - dies, 17, 18; - his character, 18. - - Coleridge, John Duke, Lord Chief-Justice (great-nephew), 572 n., 699 n., - 745 n. - - Coleridge, Sir John Taylor (nephew), his friendly relations with Hartley - C., 675 and note; - editor of _The Quarterly Review_, 736 and note, 737; - his judgment and knowledge of the world, 739; - delighted with _Aids to Reflection_, 739; - 740 n., 744, 745; - letter from S. T. C., 734. - - Coleridge, Luke Herman (brother), 8, 21, 22. - - COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR, his autobiographical letters to Thomas Poole, - 3-18; - ancestry and parentage, 4-7; - birth, 6, 9 and note; - his brothers and sister, 7-9; - christened, 9; - infancy and childhood, 9-12; - learns to read, 10; - early taste in books, 11 and note, 12; - his dreaminess and indisposition to bodily activity in childhood, 12; - boyhood, 12-21; - has a dangerous fever, 12-13; - quarrels with his brother Frank, runs away, and is found and brought - back, 13-15; - his imagination developed early by the reading of fairy tales, 16; - a Christ's Hospital Presentation procured for him by Judge Buller, 18; - visits his maternal uncle, Mr. John Bowdon, in London, 18, 19; - becomes a Blue-Coat boy, 19; - his life at Christ's Hospital, 20-22; - enters Jesus College, Cambridge, 22, 23; - becomes acquainted with the Evans family, 23 and note, 24; - writes a Greek Ode, for which he obtains the Browne gold medal for - 1792, 43 and note; - is matriculated as pensioner, 44 and note; - his examination for the Craven Scholarship, 45 and note, 46; - his temperament, 47; - takes violin lessons, 49; - enlists in the army, 57 and note; - nurses a comrade who is ill of smallpox in the Henley workhouse, 58 - and note; - his enlistment disclosed to his family, 57 n., 58, 59; - remorse, 59-61, 64, 65; - arrangements resulting in his discharge, 61-70; - his religious beliefs at twenty-one, 68, 69; - returns to the university and is punished, 70, 71; - drops his gay acquaintances and settles down to hard work, 71; - makes a tour of North Wales with Mr. J. Hucks, 72-81; - falls in love with Miss Sarah Fricker, 81; - proposes to go to America with a colony of pantisocrats, 81, 88-91, - 101-103; - his interest in Miss Fricker cools and his old love for Mary Evans - revives, 89; - his indolence, 103, 104; - on his own poetry, 112; - considers going to Wales with Southey and others to found a colony of - pantisocrats, 121, 122; - his love for Mary Evans proves hopeless, 122-126; - in lodgings in Bristol after having left Cambridge without taking his - degree, 133-135; - marries Miss Sarah Fricker and spends the honeymoon in a cottage at - Clevedon, 136; - breaks with Southey, 136-151; - happiness in early married life, 139; - his tour to procure subscribers for the _Watchman_, 151 and note, - 152-154; - poverty, 154, 155; - receives a communication from Mr. Thomas Poole that seven or eight - friends have undertaken to subscribe a certain sum to be paid - annually to him as the author of the monody on Chatterton, 158 n.; - discontinues the _Watchman_, 158; - takes Charles Lloyd into his home, 168-170; - birth of his first child, David Hartley, 169; - considers starting a day school at Derby, 170 and note; - has a severe attack of neuralgia for which he takes laudanum, 173-176; - early use of opium and beginning of the habit, 173 n., 174 n.; - selects twenty-eight sonnets by himself, Southey, Lloyd, Lamb, and - others and has them privately printed, to be bound up with - Bowles's sonnets, 177, 206 and note; - his description of himself in 1796, 180, 181; - his personal appearance as described by another, 180 n., 181 n.; - anxious to take a cottage at Nether Stowey and support himself by - gardening, 184-194; - makes arrangements to carry out this plan, 209; - his partial reconciliation with Southey, 210, 211; - in the cottage at Nether Stowey, 213; - his engagement as tutor to the children of Mrs. Evans of Darley Hall - breaks down, 215 n.; - his visit at Mrs. Evans's house, 216; - daily life at Nether Stowey, 219, 220; - visits Wordsworth at Racedown, 220 and note, 221; - secures a house (Alfoxden) for Wordsworth near Stowey, 224; - visits him there, 227; - finishes his tragedy, _Osorio_, 231; - suspected of conspiracy with Wordsworth and Thelwall against the - government, 232 n.; - accepts an annuity of £150 for life from Josiah and Thomas Wedgwood, - 234 and note, 235 and note; - declines an offer of the Unitarian pastorate at Shrewsbury, 235 and - note, 236; - writes Joseph Cottle in regard to a third edition of his poems, 239; - rupture with Lloyd, 238, 245 n., 246; - first recourse to opium to relieve distress of mind, 245 n.; - birth of a second child, Berkeley, 247; - temporary estrangement from Lamb caused by Lloyd, 249-253; - goes to Germany with William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth, and John - Chester, for the purpose of study and observation, 258-262; - life _en pension_ with Chester in the family of a German pastor at - Ratzeburg, after parting from the Wordsworths at Hamburg, 262-278; - learning the German language, 262, 263, 267, 268; - writes a poem in German, 263; - proposes to proceed to Göttingen, 268-270; - proposes to write a life of Lessing, 270; - travels by coach from Ratzeburg to Göttingen, passing through Hanover, - 278-280; - enters the University, 281; - receives word of the death of his little son, Berkeley, 282-287; - learns the Gothic and Theotuscan languages, 298; - reconciliation with Southey, after the return from Germany, 303, 304; - with his wife and child he visits the Southeys at Exeter, 305 and note; - accompanies Southey on a walking-tour in Dartmoor, 305 and note; - makes a tour of the Lake Country, 312 n., 313; - in London, writing for the _Morning Post_, 315-332; - life at Greta Hall, near Keswick, 335-444; - proposes to write an essay on the elements of poetry, 338, 347; - proposes to study chemistry with William Calvert as a fellow-student, - 345-347; - proposes to write a book on the originality and merits of Locke, - Hobbes, and Hume, 349, 350; - spends a week at Scarborough, riding and bathing for his health, - 361-363; - divides the winter of 1801-1802 between London and Nether Stowey, - 365-368; - domestic unhappiness, 366; - writes the _Ode to Dejection_, addressing it to Wordsworth, 378-384; - discouraged about his poetic faculty, 388; - a separation from his wife considered and harmony restored, 389, 390; - makes a walking-tour of the Lake Country, 393 and note, 394; - makes a tour of South Wales with Thomas and Sarah Wedgwood, 410-414; - his regimen at this time, 412, 413, 416, 417; - birth of his daughter Sara, 416; - with Charles and Mary Lamb in London, 421, 422; - takes Mary Lamb to the private madhouse at Hugsden, 422; - his tour in Scotland, 431-441; - love for and delight in his children, 443; - visits Wordsworth at Grasmere and is taken ill there, 447, 448; - his rapid recovery, 451; - plans and preparations for going abroad, 447-469; - his mental attitude towards his wife, 468; - voyage to Malta, 469-481; - dislike of his own first name, 470, 471; - life in Malta, 481-484; - a Sicilian tour, 485 and note, 486 and note, 487; - in Malta again, 487-497; - his duties as Acting Public Secretary at Malta, 487, 491, 493, 494 and - note, 495-497; - his grief at Captain John Wordsworth's death, 494 and note, 495 and - note, 497; - in Italy, 498-502; - returns to England, 501; - remains in and about London, writing political articles for the - _Courier_, 505-509; - invited to deliver a course of lectures at the Royal Institution, 507; - visits the Wordsworths at Coleorton Farmhouse with his son Hartley, - 509-514; - spends five or six weeks with Hartley in the company of the Wordsworths - at Basil Montagu's house in London, 511 n.; - outlines his course of lectures at the Royal Institution, 515, 516, - 522; - begins his lectures, 525; - a change for the better in health, habits, and spirits, the result of - his placing himself under the care of a physician, 533 and note, - 543 n.; - with the Wordsworths at Grasmere, devoting himself to the publication - of _The Friend_, 533-559; - in London, 564; - determines to place himself under the care of Dr. John Abernethy, 564, - 565; - visits the Morgans in Portland Place, Hammersmith, 566-575; - life-masks, death-mask, busts, and portraits, 570 and note, 572 and - notes; - last visit to Greta Hall and the Lake Country, 575-578; - misunderstanding with Wordsworth, 576 n., 577, 578, 586-588; - visits the Morgans at No. 71 Berners Street, 579-612; - preparations for another course of lectures, 579, 580, 582, 585; - writes Wordsworth letters of explanation, 588-595; - his Lectures on the Drama at Willis's Rooms, 595 and notes, 596, 597, - 599; - reconciled with Wordsworth, 596, 597, 599; - second rupture with Wordsworth, 599 n., 600 n.; - Josiah's half of the Wedgwood annuity withdrawn on account of C.'s - abuse of opium, 602, 611 and note; - successful production of his tragedy, _Remorse_ (_Osorio_ rewritten), - at Drury Lane Theatre, 602-611; - sells a part of his library, 616 and note; - anguish and remorse from the abuse of opium, 616-621, 623, 624; - at Bristol, 621-626; - proposes to translate _Faust_ for John Murray, 624 and note, 625, 626; - convalescent, 631; - with the Morgans at Ashley, near Box, 631; - writing at his projected great work, _Christianity, the one true - Philosophy_, 632 and note, 633; - with the Morgans at Mr. Page's, Calne, Wilts, 641-653; - resolves to free himself from his opium habit and arranges to enter - the house of James Gillman, Esq., a surgeon, in Highgate (an - arrangement which ends only with his life), 657-659; - submits his drama _Zapolya_ to the Drury Lane Committee, and, after - its rejection, publishes it in book form, 666 and note, 667-669; - publishes _Sibylline Leaves_ and _Biographia Literaria_, 673; - disputes with his publishers, Fenner and Curtis, 673, 674 and note; - proposes a new Encyclopædia, 674; - his reputation as a critic, 677 n.; - visits Joseph Henry Green, Esq., at St. Lawrence, near Maldon, 690-693; - his snuff-taking habits, 691, 692 and note; - his friendship and correspondence with Thomas Allsop, 695, 696; - delivers a course of Lectures on the History of Philosophy at the - Crown and Anchor, Strand, 698 and note; - criticises his portrait by Thomas Phillips, 699, 700; - at the seashore, 700, 701; - a candidate for associateship in the Royal Society of Literature, 726, - 727; - elected as a Royal Associate, 728; - at Ramsgate, 729-731; - prepares and publishes _Aids to Reflection_, 734 n., 738; - reads an _Essay on the Prometheus of Æschylus_ before the Royal - Society of Literature, 739, 740; - another visit to Ramsgate, 742-744; - takes a seven weeks' continental tour with Wordsworth and his - daughter, 751; - illness, 754-756, 758; - convalescence, 760, 761; - begins to see a new edition of his poetical works through the press, - 769 n.; - writes a letter to his godchild from his deathbed, 775, 776. - - _Coleridge, Early Recollections of_, by Joseph Cottle, 139 n., 140 n., - 151 n., 219 n., 232 n., 251 n., 616 n., 617 n., 633 n. - - _Coleridge, Life of_, by James Gillman, 3, 20 n., 23 n., 24 n., 45 n., - 46 n., 171 n., 257, 680 n., 761 n. - - _Coleridge, Samuel Taylor_, by James Dykes Campbell, 269 n., 527 n., - 572 n., 600 n., 631 n., 653 n., 666 n., 667 n., 674 n., 681 n., - 684 n., 698 n., 752 n., 753 n., 772 n. - - _Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, and the English Romantic School_, by Alois - Brandl, 258, 674 n., 740 n. - - _Coleridge, S. T., Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of_, by - Thomas Allsop, 41 n., 527 n., 675 n.; - the publication of, regarded by C.'s friends as an act of bad faith, - 696 and note, 721 n.; - 698 n. - - _Coleridge, S. T., Spiritual Philosophy, founded on the Teaching of_, by - J. H. Green, 680 n. - - _Coleridge's Logic_, article in _The Athenæum_, 753 n. - - _Coleridge and Southey, Reminiscences of_, by Joseph Cottle, 268 n., 269 - n., 417, 456 n., 617 n. - - Coleridge, Mrs. Samuel Taylor (Sarah Fricker, afterwards called "Sara"), - edits the second edition of _Biographia Literaria_, 3; - 136, 145, 146, 150, 151; - illness and recovery of, 155, 156; - 168; - birth of her first child, David Hartley, 169; - 174 n., 181, 188-190, 205, 213, 214, 216, 224, 245; - birth of her second child, Berkeley, 247-249; - 257, 258, 259 n.; - extract from a letter to S. T. C., 263 n.; - extract from a letter to Mrs. Lovell, 267 n.; - 271, 297, 312 n., 313, 318, 321, 325, 326, 332; - birth and baptism of her third child, Derwent, 338 and note; - her devotion saves his life, 338 n.; - 387; - fears of a separation from her husband operate to restore harmony, - 389, 390; - her faults as detailed by S. T. C., 389, 390; - 392, 393 n., 395, 396; - birth of a daughter, Sara, 416; - 418, 443, 457, 467, 490, 491, 521; - extract from a letter to Poole, 576 n.; - 578; - John Kenyon a kind friend to, 639 n.; - letters from S. T. C., 259-266, 271, 277, 284, 288, 367, 410, 420, 431, - 460, 467, 480, 496, 507, 509, 563, 579, 583, 602; - letter to S. T. C. after her little Berkeley's death, 282 n. - - Coleridge, Sara (daughter), her birth, 416; - in infancy, 443; - at the age of nine, 575, 576; - 580, 724; - marries her cousin, Henry Nelson C., 756 n. - _See_ Coleridge, Mrs. Henry Nelson. - - _Coleridge, Sara, Memoir and Letters of_, 461 n., 758 n. - - Coleridge, the Hundred of, in North Devon, 4 and note. - - Coleridge, the Parish of, 4 n. - - Coleridge, William (brother), 7. - - Coleridge, William Hart (nephew, afterwards Bishop of Barbadoes), - befriends Hartley C., 675 n.; - 707; - his portrait by Thomas Phillips, R. A., 740 and note. - - Coleridge, William Rennell, 699 n. - - Coleridge family, origin of, 4 n. - - Collier, John Payne, 575 n. - - Collins, William, his _Ode on the Poetical Character_, 196; - his _Odes_, 318. - - Collins, William, A. R. A. (afterward, R. A.), letter from C., 693. - - Colman, George, the younger, genius of, 621; - his _Who wants a Guinea?_, 621 n. - - Columbus, the, a vessel, 730. - - Combe Florey, 308 n. - - Comberbacke, Silas Tomkyn, C.'s assumed name, 62. - - Comic Drama, the downfall of the, 616. - - _Complaint of Ninathoma, The_, 51. - - _Concerning Poetry_, a proposed book, 347, 386, 387. - - _Conciones ad Populum_, 85 n., 161 n., 166, 454 n., 527 n. - - _Confessions of an Enquiring Spirit_, originally addressed to Rev. - Edward Coleridge, 724 n.; - 756 n. - - Coniston, 394. - - _Connubial Rupture, On a late_, 179 n. - - Consciousness of infants, 283. - - Conservative Party in 1832, the, 757. - - Consolation, a note of, 113. - - _Consolations and Comforts, etc._, a projected book, 452, 453. - - Constant, Benjamin, his tract _On the Strength of the Existing - Government of France, and the Necessity of supporting it_, 219 and - note. - - Contempt, C.'s definition of, 198. - - _Contentment, Motives of_, by Archdeacon Paley, 47. - - Conversation, C.'s, 181, 752 and note; - C.'s maxims of, 244. - - Conversation evenings at the Gillmans', 740, 741, 774. - - Cookson, Dr., Canon of Windsor and Rector of Forncett, Norfolk, 311 and - note. - - Copland, 400. - - Cordomi, a pseudonym of C.'s, 295 n. - - _Cornhill Magazine_, 345 n. - - Cornish, Mr., 66. - - Corry, Right Hon. Isaac, 390 and note. - - Corsham, 650, 652 n. - - Corsica, 174 n. - - Corsican Rangers, 554. - - Cote House, Josiah Wedgwood's residence, C. visits, 416; - 455 n. - - Cottle, Joseph, agrees to pay C. a fixed sum for his poetry, 136; - 137; - his _Early Recollections of Coleridge_, 139 n., 140 n., 151 n., 219 - n., 232 n., 251 n., 616 n., 617 n., 633 n.; - 144, 184, 185, 191, 192, 212; - his _Reminiscences of Coleridge and Southey_, 268 n., 269 n., 417, 456 - n., 617 n.; - his financial difficulties, 319; - 358; - his _Malvern Hill_, 358; - his publication of C.'s letters of confession and remorse deeply - resented by C.'s family and friends, 616 n., 617 n.; - convalescent after a dangerous illness, 619; - letters from C., 133, 134, 154, 218 n., 220, 238, 251 n., 616, 619. - - _Courier_, the, 230; - C. writes for, 505, 506, 507 n., 520; - 534 and note, 543; - its conduct during the investigation of the charges against the Duke - of York universally extolled, 545; - articles and recommendations for, 567 and notes, 568; - C. as a candidate for the place of auxiliary to, 568-570; - 568 n.; - C. breaks with, 574; - 598, 629 and notes, 634 and note; - change in the character of, 660-662, 664; - C. proposes to write on the Catholic question for, 660, 662; - arrangements for the proposed articles, 664, 665. - - _Courier_ office, C. lodges at the, 505, 520. - - Cowper, William, "the divine chit-chat of," 197 and note; - his _Task_, 242 n. - - Craven, Countess of, 86 n. - - Craven Scholarship, C.'s examination for the, 45 and note, 46. - - Crediton, 5 n., 11. - - _Critical Review_, 185, 489. - - Criticism welcome to true poets, 402. - - Crompton, Dr., of Derby, 215; - letter from Thelwall on the Wedgwood annuity, 234 n. - - Crompton, Mrs., of Derby, 215. - - Crompton, Mrs., of Eaton Hall, 758. - - Crompton, Dr. Peter, of Eaton Hall, 359 and note, 758 n. - - Cruikshank, Ellen, 165. - - Cruikshank, John, 136, 177, 184, 188. - - Cruikshank, Mrs. John (Anna), 177; - lines to, 177 n.; - 213. - _See_ Buclé, Miss. - - Cryptogram, C.'s, 597 n. - - Cunningham, Rev. J. W., his _Velvet Cushion_, 651 and note. - - _Cupid turned Chymist_, 54 n., 56. - - Currie, James, 359 and note. - - _Curse of Kehama, The_, by Southey, 684. - - Curtis, Rev. T., partner of Fenner, C.'s publisher, his ill-usage of C., - 674. - - Cuxhaven, 259. - - - Dalton, John, 457 and note. - - Damer, Hon. Mrs., 368. - - Dana, Miss R. Charlotte, 572 n. - - Dante and his _Divina Commedia_, 676, 677 and note, 678, 679, 731 n., - 732. - - Danvers, Charles, his kindness of heart, 316. - - _Dark Ladie, The Ballad of the_, 375. - - Darnley, Earl, 629. - - Dartmoor, a walking-tour in, 305 and note. - - Dartmouth, 305 and note. - - Darwin, Dr. Erasmus, C.'s conversation with, 152, 153; - his philosophy of insincerity, 161; - C.'s opinion of his poems, 164; - 211; - the first literary character in Europe, and the most original-minded - man, 215; - 386, 648. - - Dash Beck, 375 n., 376 n. - - Davy, Sir Humphry, 315-317, 321, 324, 326, 344, 350, 357, 365, 379 n., - 448; - a Theo-mammonist, 455; - 456; - C. attends his lectures, 462 and note, 463; - C.'s esteem and admiration for, 514; - his successful efforts to induce C. to give a course of lectures at - the Royal Institution, 515, 516; - seriously ill, 520, 521; - hears from C. of his improvement in health and habits, 533 n.; - 673 n.; - letters from C., 336-341, 345, 514. - - _Davy, Sir Humphry, Fragmentary Remains of_, edited by Dr. Davy, 343 n., - 533 n. - - Dawe, George, R. A., his life-mask and portrait of C., 572 and note; - his funeral and C.'s epigram thereon, 572 n.; - immortalized by Lamb, 572 n.; - engaged on a picture to illustrate C.'s poem, _Love_, 573; - his admiration for Allston's modelling, 573; - his character and manners, 581; - a fortunate grub, 605. - - Dawes, Rev. John, teacher of Hartley and Derwent C., 576 and note, 577. - - Death, fear of, responsible for many virtues, 744; - the nature of, 762, 763. - - Death and life, meditations on, 283-287. - - Death-mask of C., a, 570 n. - - _Death of Mattathias, The_, by Robert Southey, 108 and note. - - Deism, religious, 414. - - _Dejection: An Ode_, 378 and note, 379 and note, 380-384, 405 n. - - Della Cruscanism, 196. - - Democracy, C. disavows belief in, 104-105; - 134, 243. - _See_ Republicanism _and_ Pantisocracy. - - Denbigh, 80, 81. - - Denman, Miss, 769, 770. - - Dentist, a French, 40. - - De Quincey, Thomas, 405 n., 525; - revises the proofs and writes an appendix for Wordsworth's pamphlet - _On the Convention of Cintra_, 549, 550 n.; - 563, 601, 772 n. - - Derby, 152; - proposal to start a school in, 170 and note; - 188; - the people of, 215 and note, 216. - - Derwent, the river, 339. - - Descartes, René, 351 and note. - - _Destiny of Nations, The_, 278 n., 178 n. - - _Deutschland in seiner tiefsten Erniedrigung_, by John Philip Palm, C.'s - translation of, 530. - - De Vere, Aubrey, extract from a letter from Sir William Rowan Hamilton - to, 759 n. - - _Devil's Thoughts, The_, by Coleridge and Southey, 318. - - Devock Lake, 393. - - Devonshire, 305 and note. - - _Devonshire, Georgiana, Duchess of, Ode to_, 320 and note, 330. - - Dibdin, Mr., stage-manager at Drury Lane Theatre, 666. - - _Disappointment, To_, 28. - - _Dissuasion from Popery_, by Jeremy Taylor, 639. - - _Divina Commedia_, C. praises the Rev. H. F. Cary's translation of, 676, - 677 and note, 678, 679; - Gabriele Rossetti's essay on the mechanism and interpretation of, 732. - - _Doctor, The_, 583 n., 584 n. - - Döring, Herr von, 279. - - Dove, Dr. Daniel, 583 and note, 584. - - Dove Cottage, Grasmere, 379 n. - _See_ Grasmere. - - Dowseborough, 225 n. - - Drakard, John, 567 and note. - - Drayton, Michael, his _Poly-Olbion_, 374 n. - - Dreams, the state of mind in, 663. - - Drury Lane Theatre, C.'s _Zapolya_ before the committee of, 666 and - note, 667. - - Dryden, John, his slovenly verses, 672. - - Dubois, Edward, 705 and note. - - _Duchess, Ode to the_, 320 and note, 330. - - Dunmow, Essex, 456, 459. - - Duns Scotus, 358. - - Dupuis, Charles François, his _Origine de tous les Cultes, ou Religion - Universelle_, 181 and note. - - Durham, Bishop of, 582 and note. - - Durham, C. reading Duns Scotus at, 358-361. - - Duty, 495 n. - - Dyer, George, 84, 93, 316, 317; - his article on Southey in _Public Characters for 1799-1800_, 317 and - note; - 363, 422; - sketch of his life, 748 n.; - C.'s esteem and affection for, 748, 749; - his benevolence and beneficence, 749; - letter from C., 748. - - - Earl of Abergavenny, the wreck of, 494 n.; - 495 n. - - _Early Recollections of Coleridge_, by Joseph Cottle, 139 n., 140 n., - 151 n., 219 n., 232 n., 251 n., 616 n., 617 n., 633 n. - - _Early Years and Late Recollections_, by Clement Carlyon, M. D., 258, - 298 n. - - East Tarbet, 431, 432 and note, 433. - - Echoes, 400 n. - - Edgeworth, Maria, her _Helen_, 773, 774. - - Edgeworth, Richard Lovell, 262. - - Edgeworth's _Essay on Education_, 261. - - Edgeworths, the, very miserable when children, 262. - - Edinburgh, a place of literary gossip, 423; - C.'s visit to, 434-440; - Southey's first impressions of, 438 n. - - _Edinburgh Review, The_, 438 n.; - Southey declines Scott's offer to secure him a place on, 521 and note, - 522; - its attitude towards C., 527; - C.'s review of Clarkson's book in, 527 and note, 528-530; - 636, 637; - severe review of _Christabel_ in, 669 and note, 670; - Jeffrey's reply to C. in, 669 n.; - re-echoes C.'s praise of Cary's _Dante_, 677 n.; - its broad, predetermined abuse of C., 697, 723; - its influence on the sale of Wordsworth's books in Scotland, 741, 742. - - _Edmund Oliver_, by Charles Lloyd, drawn from C.'s life, 252 and note; - 311. - - _Education, Practical_, by Richard Lovell Edgeworth and Maria Edgeworth, - 261. - - Education through the imagination preferable to that which makes the - senses the only criteria of belief, 16, 17. - - Edwards, Rev. Mr., of Birmingham, extract from a letter from C. to, 174 - n. - - Edwards, Thomas, LL. D., 101 and note. - - Egremont, 393. - - _Egypt, Observations on_, 486 n. - - Egypt, political relations of, 492. - - Eichhorn, Prof., of Göttingen, 298, 564, 707, 773. - - Einbeck, 279, 280. - - Elbe, the, 259, 277. - - Electrometers of taste, 218 and note. - - _Elegy_, by Robert Southey, 115. - - Elleray, 535. - - Elliot, H., Minister at the Court of Naples, 508 and note. - - Elliston, Mr., an actor, 611. - - Elmsley, Rev. Peter, 438 and note, 439. - - _Encyclopædia Metropolitana_, a work projected by C., 674, 681. - - Encyclopædias, 427, 429, 430. - - Ennerdale, 393. - - Epitaph, by C., 769 and note, 770, 771. - - _Epitaph_, by Wordsworth, 284. - - Erigena, Joannes Scotus, 417; - the modern founder of the school of pantheism, 424. - - Erskine, Lord, his Bill for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 635 - and note. - - _Erste Schiffer, Der_ (The First Navigator), by Gesner, 369, 371, 372, - 376-378, 397, 402, 403. - - Eskdale, 393, 401. - - _Essay on Animal Vitality_, by Thelwall, 179, 212. - - _Essay on Fasting_, 157. - - _Essay on the New French Constitution_, 320 and note. - - _Essay on the Prometheus of Æschylus_, 740 and note. - - _Essay on the Science of Method_, 681 and note. - - _Essays on His Own Times_, 156 n., 157 n., 320 n., 327 n., 329 n., 335 - n., 414 n., 498 n., 567 n., 629 n., 634 n. - - _Essay on the Fine Arts_, 633 and note, 634. - - _Essays upon Epitaphs_, by Wordsworth, 585 and note. - - Estlin, Mrs. J. P., 190, 213, 214. - - Estlin, Rev. J. P., 184, 185, 190, 239, 287, 288; - his sermons, 385; - 416; - letters from C., 213, 245, 246, 414. - - Ether, 420, 435. - - Etna, 458, 485 n., 486 n. - - Evans, Mrs., C. spends a fortnight with, 23 and note; - 24; - C.'s filial regard for, 26, 27; - her unselfishness, 46; - letters from C., 26, 39, 45. - - Evans, Anne, 27, 29-31; - letters from C., 37, 52. - - Evans, Eliza, 78. - - Evans, Mrs. Elizabeth, of Darley Hall, her proposal to engage C. as - tutor to her children, 215 n.; - her kindness to C. and Mrs. C., 215 n., 210; - 231, 367. - - Evans, Mary, 23 n., 27, 30; - an acute mind beneath a soft surface of feminine delicacy, 50; - C. sees her at Wrexham and confesses to Southey his love for her, 78; - 97 and note; - song addressed to, 100; - C.'s unrequited love for, 123-125; - letters from C., 30, 41, 47, 122, 124; - letter to C., 87-89. - - Evans, Walter, 231. - - Evans, William, of Darley Hall, 215 n. - - Evolution, 648. - - _Examiner, The_, its notice of C.'s tragedy, _Remorse_, 606. - - _Excursion, The_, by Wordsworth, 244 n., 337 n., 585 n.; - C.'s opinion of, 641; - the _Edinburgh Review's_ criticism of, 642; - C. discusses it in the light of his previous expectations, 645-650. - - Exeter, 305 and note. - - Ezekiel, 705 n. - - - Faith, C.'s definition of, 202; - 204. - - _Fall of Robespierre, The_, 85 and note, 87, 93, 104 and notes. - - Falls of Foyers, the, 440. - - _Farmer, Priscilla, Poems on the Death of_, by Charles Lloyd, 206 and - note. - - _Farmers_, 335 n. - - _Farmhouse_, by Robert Lovell, 115. - - _Fasting, Essay on_, 157. - - _Faulkner: a Tragedy_, by William Godwin, 524 and note. - - Fauntleroy's trial, 730. - - _Faust_, C.'s proposal to translate, 624 and note, 625, 626. - - Favell, Robert, 86, 109 n., 110 n., 113, 225 and note. - - _Fayette_, 112. - - _Fears in Solitude_, published, 261 n.; - 318, 321, 328, 552, 703 and note. - - Fellowes, Mr., of Nottingham, 153. - - _Female Biography, or Memoirs of Illustrious and Celebrated Women_, by - Mary Hayes, 318 and note. - - Fenner, Rest, publishes _Zapolya_ for C., 666 n.; - his ill-usage of C. in regard to _Sibylline Leaves_, _Biographia - Literaria_, and the projected _Encyclopædia Metropolitana_, 673, - 674 and note. - - Fenwick, Dr., 361 and note. - - Fenwick, Mrs. E., 465 and note. - - Fernier, John, 211. - - Fichte, Johann Gottlieb, the philosophy of, 682, 683, 735. - - Field, Mr., 93. - - _Fine Arts, Essays on the_, 633 and note, 634. - - _Fire, The_, by Robert Southey, 108 and note. - - _Fire and Famine_, 327. - - _First Landing Place, The_, 684 n. - - _First Navigator, The_, translation of Gesner's _Der Erste Schiffer_, - 369, 371, 372, 376-378, 397, 402, 403. - - Fitzgibbon, John, 638. - - Fletcher, Judge, C.'s _Courier_ Letters to, 629 and note, 634 and note, - 635, 636, 642. - - Florence, 499 n. - - Flower, Benjamin, editor of the _Cambridge Intelligencer_, 93 and note. - - _Flower, The_, by George Herbert, 695. - - Flowers, 745, 746. - - Fort Augustus, 435. - - _Foster-Mother's Tale, The_, 510 n. - - Fox, Charles James, his _Letter to the Westminster Electors_, 50; - 327; - Coleridge _versus_, 423, 424; - proposed articles on, 505; - 506; - death of, 507 and note; - 629 and note. - - Fox, Dr., 619. - - Foyers, the Falls of, 440. - - _Fragment found in a Lecture Room, A_, 44. - - _Fragments of a Journal of a Tour over the Brocken_, 257. - - France, political condition of, in 1800, 329 and note. - - _France, an Ode_, 261 n., 552. - - Freeling, Sir Francis, 751. - - French, C. not proficient in, 181. - - _French Constitution, Essay on the New_, 320 and note. - - French Empire under Buonaparte, C.'s essays on the, 629 and note. - - French Revolution, the, 219, 240. - - Frend, William, 24 and note. - - Frere, George, 672. - - Frere, Right Hon. John Hookham, 672 and note; - advice and friendly assistance to C. from, 674, 675 and note; - 698, 731, 732, 737. - - Fricker, Mrs., 98, 189; - C. proposes to allow her an annuity of £20, 190; - 423, 458. - - Fricker, Edith (afterwards Mrs. Robert Southey), 82; - marries Southey, 137 n.; - 163 n. - _See_ Southey, Mrs. Robert. - - Fricker, George, 315, 316. - - Fricker, Martha, 600. - - Fricker, Sarah, C. falls in love with, 81; - 83-86; - C.'s love cools, 89; - marries C., 136; - 138, 163 n.; - letter from Southey, 107 n. - _See_ Coleridge, Mrs. Samuel Taylor. - - _Friend, The_, 11 n., 25 n., 86 n., 257, 274 n., 275 n., 351 n., 404 n., - 412 n., 453 n., 454 n.; - preliminary prospectus of, and its revision, 533, 536 and note, - 537-541, 542 n.; - arrangements for the publication of, 541, 542 and note, 544, 546, 547; - its vicissitudes during its first eight months, 547, 548, 551, 552, - 554-559; - Addison's _Spectator_ compared with, 557, 558; - the reprint of, 575, 579 and note, 580 n., 585 and note; - 606, 611, 629 and note, 630, 667 n.; - J. H. Frere's advice in regard to, 674; - the object of the third volume of, 676; - 684 n.; - 697, 756 n., 768 and note. - - Friends, C. complains of lack of sympathy on the part of his, 696, 697. - - _Friend's Quarterly Examiner, The_, 536 n., 538 n. - - _Frisky Songster, The_, 237. - - _Frost at Midnight_, 8 n., 261 n. - - - Gale and Curtis, 579 and note, 580 n. - - Gallow Hill, 359 n., 362, 379 n. - - Gallows and hangman in Germany, 294. - - Gardening, C. proposes to undertake, 183-194; - C. begins it at Nether Stowey, 213; - recommended to Thelwall, 215; - at Nether Stowey, 219, 220. - - _Gebir_, 328. - - _Gentleman's Magazine, The_, 455 n. - - _Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, Ode to_, 320 and note, 330. - - German language, the, C. learning, 262, 263, 267, 268. - - German philosophers, C.'s opinions of, 681-683, 735. - - German playing-cards, 263. - - Germans, their partiality for England and the English, 263, 264; - their eating and smoking customs, 276, 277; - an unlovely race, 278; - their Christmas-tree and other religious customs, 289-292; - superstitions of the bauers, 291, 292, 294; - marriage customs of the bauers, 292, 293. - - Germany, 257, 258; - C.'s sojourn in, 259-300; - post coaches in, 278, 279; - the clergy of, 291; - Protestants and Catholics of, 291, 292; - bell-ringing in, 293; - churches in, 293; - shepherds in, 293; - care of owls in, 293; - gallows and hangman in, 294; - disposal of dead and sick cattle in, 294; - beet sugar in, 299. - - Gerrald, Joseph, 161 and note, 166, 167 n. - - Gesenius, Friedrich Heinrich Wilhelm, 773. - - Gesner, his _Erste Schiffer_ (The First Navigator), 369, 371, 372, - 376-378, 397, 402, 403; - his rhythmical prose, 398. - - Ghosts, 684. - - Gibraltar, 469, 473, 474; - description of, 475-479; - 480, 493. - - Gifford, William, his criticism of C.'s tragedy, _Remorse_, 605, 606; - 669, 737. - - Gillman, Alexander, 703 n. - - Gillman, Henry, 693 n. - - Gillman, James, his _Life of Coleridge_, 3, 20 n., 23 n., 24 n., 45 n., - 46 n., 171 n., 257; - 442 n., 680 n., 761 n.; - his faithful friendship for C., 657; - C. arranges to enter his household as a patient, 657-659; - C.'s pecuniary obligations to, 658 n.; - character and intellect of, 665; - 670 n., 679, 685, 692, 704; - C.'s gratitude to and affection for, 721, 722; - on C.'s opium habit, 761 n.; - 768; - extracts from a letter from John Sterling to, 772 n.; - letters from C., 657, 700, 721, 729, 742. - - Gillman, James, the younger, passes his examination for ordination with - great credit, 755. - - Gillman, Mrs. James (Anne), her faithful friendship for C., 657; - character of, 665; - 679, 684, 685, 702 n., 705, 721, 722, 729, 733; - illness of, 738; - C.'s attachment to, 746; - C.'s gratitude to and affection for, 754; - 764, 774; - letters from C., 690, 745, 754. - - Ginger-tea, 412, 413. - - Glencoe, 413, 440. - - Glen Falloch, 433. - - Gloucester, 72. - - Gnats, 692. - - Godliness, C.'s definition of, 203 n., 204; - St. Peter's paraphrase of, 204. - - Godwin, William, 91, 114; - C.'s sonnet to, 116 n., 117; - lines by Southey to, 120; - his misanthropy, 161, 162; - 161 n., 167; - C.'s book on, 210; - 316, 321; - his _St. Leon_, 324, 325; - a quarrel and reconciliation with C., 457, 464-466; - his _Faulkner: a Tragedy_, 524 and note; - C. accepts his invitation to meet Grattan, 565, 566; - letter from C., 565. - - _Godwin, William: His Friends and Contemporaries_, by Charles Kegan - Paul, 161 n., 324 n., 465 n. - - Godwin, Mrs. William, 465, 466, 566. - - Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, his _Faust_, C.'s proposal to translate, - 624 and note, 625, 626; - his _Zur Farbenlehre_, 699. - - Gosforth, 393. - - Goslar, 272, 273. - - Göttingen, C. proposes to visit, 268-270, 272; - 268 n., 269 n.; - C. calls on Professor Heyne at, 280; - C. enters the University of, 281; - the Saturday Club at, 281; - the gallows near, 294; - C.'s stay at, 281-300. - - Gough, Charles, 369 n. - - Governments as effects and causes, 241. - - Grasmere, 335, 346, 362, 379 n., 394, 405 n., 419, 420; - C. visits and is taken ill there, 447, 448; - C. visits, 533-569. - _See_ Kendal. - - Grattan, Henry, C.'s admiration for, 566. - - Greek Islands, the, 329. - - Greek poetry contrasted with Hebrew poetry, 405, 406. - - Greek Sapphic Ode, _On the Slave Trade_, 43 and note. - - Green, Mr., clerk of the _Courier_, 568 and note. - - Green, Joseph Henry, 605, 632 n.; - his eminence in the surgical profession, 679 n.; - C.'s amanuensis and collaborateur, 679 n.; - C. appoints him his literary executor, 679 n.; - his published works, 679 n., 680 n.; - his character and intellect, 680 n.; - his faithful friendship for C., 680 n.; - his _Spiritual Philosophy, founded on the Teaching of S. T. - Coleridge_, 680 n.; - receives a visit from C. at St. Lawrence, near Maldon, 690-693; - 753 n.; - letters from C., 669, 680, 688, 699, 704, 706, 726, 728, 751, 754, - 767. - - Green, Mrs. Joseph Henry, 691, 692, 699, 705. - - Greenough, Mr., 458 and note. - - Greta, the river, 339. - - Greta Hall, near Keswick, C.'s life at, 335-444; - situation of, 335; - description of 391, 392; - C. urges Southey to make it his home, 391, 392, 394, 395; - Southey at first declines but subsequently accepts C.'s invitation to - settle there, 395 n.; - Southey makes a visit there which proves permanent, 435; - 460 n.; - sold by its owner in C.'s absence, 490, 491; - C.'s last visit to, 575 and note, 576-578; - 724, 725. - _See_ Keswick. - - Grey, Mr., editor of the _Morning Chronicle_, 114. - - "Grinning for joy," 81 n. - - Grisedale Tarn, 547. - - Grose, Judge, 567 and note. - - Grossness _versus_ suggestiveness, 377. - - _Group of Englishmen, A_, by Eliza Meteyard, 269 n., 308 n. - - _Growth of the Individual Mind, On the_, C.'s extempore lecture, 680 and - note, 681. - - Gunning, Henry, his _Reminiscences of Cambridge_, 24 n. - - Gwynne, General, K. L. D., 62. - - - Hæmony, Milton's allegorical flower, 406, 407. - - Hague, Charles, 50. - - Hale, Sir Philip, a "titled Dogberry," 232 n. - - Hall, S. C., 257, 745 n. - - Hamburg, 257, 259; - C.'s arrival at, 261; - 268 n. - - Hamilton, a Cambridge man at Göttingen, 281. - - Hamilton, Lady, 637 and note. - - Hamilton, Sir William Rowan, 759 and note, 760. - - _Hamlet, Notes on_, 684 n. - - Hancock's house, 297. - - Hangman and gallows in Germany, 294. - - Hanover, 279, 280. - - _Happiness_, 75 n. - - _Happy Warrior, The_, by Wordsworth, the original of, 494 n. - - Harding, Miss, sister of Mrs. Gillman, 703. - - _Harper's Magazine_, 570 n., 571 n. - - Harris, Mr., 666. - - Hart, Dick, 54. - - Hart, Miss Jane, 7, 8. - - Hart, Miss Sara, 8. - - Hartley, David, 113, 169, 348, 351 n., 428. - - _Haunted Beach, The_, by Mrs. Robinson, 322 n.; - C. struck with, 331, 332. - - Hayes, Mary, 318 and note; - her _Female Biography_, 318 and note; - her correspondence with Lloyd, 322; - C.'s opinion of her intellect, 323. - - Hazlitt, William, supposed to have written the _Edinburgh Review_ - criticism of _Christabel_, 669 and note. - - Hebrew poetry richer in imagination than the Greek, 405, 406. - - Heinse's _Ardinghello_, 683 and note. - - _Helen_, by Maria Edgeworth, 773, 774. - - Helvellyn, 547. - - Henley workhouse, C. nurses a fellow-dragoon in the, 58 and note. - - _Herald, Morning_, its notice of C.'s tragedy, _Remorse_, 603. - - Herbert, George, C.'s love for his poems, 694, 695; - his _Temple_, 694; - his _Flower_, 695. - - _Heretics of the first two Centuries after Christ, History of the_, by - Nathaniel Lardner, D. D., 330. - - Herodotus, 738. - - Hertford, C. a Blue-Coat boy at, 19 and note. - - Hess, Jonas Lewis von, 555 and note. - - Hessey, Mr., of Taylor and Hessey, publishers, 739. - - Hexameters, parts of the Bible and Ossian written in slovenly, 398. - - Heyne, Christian Gottlob, 279; - C. calls on, 280; - 281. - - Higginbottom, Nehemiah, a pseudonym of C.'s, 251 n. - - _Highgate, History of_, by Lloyd, 572 n. - - _Highland Girl, To a_, by Wordsworth, 549. - - Highland lass, a beautiful, 432 and note, 459. - - High Wycombe, 62-64. - - Hill, Mrs. Herbert. _See_ Southey, Bertha. - - Hill, Thomas, 705 and note. - - _History of Highgate_, by Lloyd, 572 n. - - _History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade_, by Thomas Clarkson, C.'s - review of, 527 and note, 528-530, 535, 536. - - _History of the Heretics of the first two Centuries after Christ_, by - Nathaniel Lardner, D. D., 330. - - _History of the Levelling Principle_, proposed, 323, 328 n., 330. - - Hobbes, Thomas, 349, 350. - - Holcroft, Mr., C.'s conversation on Pantisocracy with, 114, 115; - the high priest of atheism, 162. - - _Hold your mad hands!_, a sonnet by Southey, 127 and note. - - Holland, 751. - - Holt, Mrs., 18. - - _Home-Sick, Written in Germany_, quoted, 298. - - Homesickness of C. in Germany, 265, 266, 272, 273, 278, 288, 289, 295, - 296, 298. - - Hood, Thomas, his _Odes to Great People_, 250 n. - - _Hope, an Allegorical Sketch_, by Bowles, 179, 180. - - Hopkinson, Lieutenant, 62. - - Horace, Bentley's Quarto Edition of, 68 and note. - - Hospitality in poverty, 340. - - _Hour when we shall meet again, The_, 157. - - Howe, Admiral Lord, 262 and note. - - Howe, Emanuel Scoope, second Viscount, 262 n. - - Howell, Mr., of Covent Garden, 366 and note. - - Howick, Lord, 507. - - Howley, Miss, 739. - - Huber's _Treatise on Ants_, 712. - - Hucks, J., accompanies C. on a tour in Wales, 74-81; - his _Tour in North Wales_, 74 n., 81 n.; - 76, 77 and note, 81 and note, 306. - - Hume, David, 307, 349, 350. - - Hume, Joseph, M. P., a fermentive virus, 757. - - Hungary, 329. - - _Hunt, Leigh, Autobiography of_, 20 n., 41 n., 225 n., 455 n. - - Hunter, John, 211. - - Hurwitz, Hyman, 667 n.; - his _Israel's Lament_, 681 n. - - Hutchinson, George, 358 and note, 359 n., 360. - - Hutchinson, Joanna, 359 n. - - Hutchinson, John, of Penrith, 358 n. - - Hutchinson, John, of the Middle Temple, 359 n. - - Hutchinson, Mary, marries William Wordsworth, 359 n.; - 367. - - Hutchinson, Sarah, 359 n., 360, 362, 367, 393 n.; - her motherly care of Hartley C., 510; - 511; - C.'s amanuensis, 536 n., 542 n.; - 582, 587, 590 n. - - Hutchinson, Thomas, of Gallow Hill, 359 n., 362. - - Hutton, James, M. D., 153 and note; - his _Investigation of the Principles of Knowledge_, 167. - - Hutton, Lawrence, 570 n. - - Hutton Hall, near Penrith, 296. - - _Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni_, origin of, 404 and 405 - and note. - - - _Ibi Hæc Incondita Solus_, by George Coleridge, 43 n. - - Idolatry of modern religion, the, 414, 415. - - Illuminizing, 323, 324. - - _Illustrated London News, The_, 258, 453 n., 497 n., 768 n. - - Imagination, education of the, 16, 17. - - _Imitated from the Welsh_ (a song), 112 and note, 113. - - _Imitations from the Modern Latin Poets_, 67 n., 122. - - Impersonality of the Deity, 444. - - Indolence, a vice of powerful venom, 103, 104. - - Infant, the death of an, 282-287. - - _Infant, who died before its Christening, On an_, 287. - - Ingratitude, C. complains of, 627-631. - - Insincerity, a virtue, 161. - - Instinct, definition of, 712. - - _In the Pass of Killicranky_, by Wordsworth, 458. - - _Ireland, Account of_, by Edward Wakefield, 638. - - _Ireland, View of the State of_, by Edmund Spenser, 638 n. - - Irving, Rev. Edward, 723; - a great orator, 726; - on Southey and Byron, 726; - 741, 742, 744, 748, 752. - - Isaiah, 200. - - _Israel's Lament_, by Hyman Hurwitz, C. translates, 681 and note. - - - Jackson, Mr., owner of Greta Hall, 335, 368, 391, 392, 394, 395, 434, - 460 and note, 461; - godfather to Hartley C., 461 n.; - sells Greta Hall, 491; - Hartley C.'s attachment for, 510. - - Jackson, William, 309 and notes. - - Jackstraws, 462, 468. - - Jacobi, Heinrich Freidrich, 683. - - Jacobinism in England, 642. - - Jardine, Rev. David, 139 and note. - - _Jasper_, by Mrs. Robinson, 322 n. - - Jeffrey, Francis (afterwards Lord), 453 n., 521 n.; - C. accuses him of being unwarrantably severe on him, 527; - 536 n., 538 n.; - C.'s accusation of personal and ungenerous animosity against himself - and his reply thereto, 669 and note, 670; - 735; - his attitude toward Wordsworth's poetry, 742; - letters from C., 527, 528, 534. - See _Edinburgh Review_. - - Jerdan, Mr., of Michael's Grove, Brompton, 727. - - Jesus College, C.'s life at, 22-57, 70-72, 81-129. - - Jews in a German inn, 280. - - _Joan of Arc_, by Southey, 141, 149, 178 and note, 179; - Cottle sells the copyright to Longman, 319. - - John of Milan, 566 n. - - Johnson, J., the bookseller, lends C. £30, 261; - publishes _Fears in Solitude_, for C., 261 and notes, 318; - 321. - - Johnson, Dr. Samuel, on the condition of the mind during stage - representations, 663. - - Johnston, Lady, 731. - - Johnston, Sir Alexander, 730 and note; - C.'s impressions of, 731. - - Josephus, 407. - - - Kant, Immanuel, 204 n., 351 n.; - C.'s opinion of the philosophy of, 681, 682; - his _Kritik der praktischen Vernunft_, 681, 682 and note; - his _Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft_, 682; - valued by C. more as a logician than as a metaphysician, 735; - his _Critique of the Pure Reason_, 735. - - Keats, John, 764 n. - - Keenan, Mr., 309. - - Keenan, Mrs., 309 and note. - - _Kehama, The Curse of_, by Southey, 684. - - Kempsford, Gloucestershire, 267 n. - - Kendal, 447, 451, 452, 535, 575. - _See_ Grasmere. - - Kendall, Mr., a poet, 306. - - Kennard, Adam Steinmetz, 762 n.; - letter from C., 775. - - Kennard, John Peirse, 762 n.; - letter from C., 772. - - Kenyon, Mrs., 639, 640. - - Kenyon, John, 639 n.; - letter from C., 639. - - Keswick, 174 n.; - C. passes through, during his first tour in the Lake Country, 312 n.; - a Druidical circle near, 312 n.; - C.'s house at, 335; - climate of, 361; - 405 n., 530, 535, 724, 725. - _See_ Greta Hall. - - Keswick, the lake of, 335. - - Keswick, the vale of, 312 n., 313 n.; - its beauties, 410, 411. - - Kielmansegge, Baron, and his daughter, Mary Sophia, 263 n. - - Kilmansig, Countess, C. becomes acquainted with, 262, 263. - - King, Mr., 183, 185, 186. - - King, Mrs., 183. - - Kingsley, Rev. Charles, 771 n. - - Kingston, Duchess of, her masquerade costume, 237. - - Kinnaird, Douglas, 666, 667. - - Kirkstone Pass, a storm in, 418-420. - - _Kisses_, 54 n. - - Klopstock, Friedrich Gottlieb, 257; - his _Messias_, 372, 373. - - Knecht, Rupert, 289 n., 290, 291. - - Knight, Rev. William Angus, LL.D., his _Life of William Wordsworth_, - 164 n., 220 n., 447 n., 585 n., 591 n., 596 n., 599 n., 600 n., - 733 n., 759 n. - - Kosciusko, C.'s sonnet to, 116 n., 117. - - Kotzebue's _Count Benyowski, or the Conspiracy of Kamtschatka, a - Tragi-comedy_, 236 and note. - - _Kubla Khan_, when written, 245 n.; - 437 n. - - Kyle, John, the Man of Ross, 77, 651 n. - - - Lake Bassenthwaite, 335, 376 n.; - sunset over, 384. - - Lake Country, the, C. makes a tour of, 312 n., 313; - another tour of, 393 and note, 394; - C.'s last visit to, 575 n. - _See_ Grasmere, Greta Hall, Kendal, Keswick. - - _Lalla Rookh_, by Moore, 672. - - _Lamb, C., To_, 128 and note. - - Lamb, Charles, love of Woolman's Journal, 4 n.; - visit to Nether Stowey, 10 n.; - his _Christ's Hospital Five and Thirty Years Ago_, 20 n.; - a man of uncommon genius, 111; - writes four lines of a sonnet for C., 111, 112 and note; - and his sister, 127, 128; - C.'s lines to, 128 and note; - 163 n.; - correspondence with C. after his (Lamb's) mother's tragic death, 171 - and note; - 182; - extract from a letter to C., 197 n.; - 206 n.; - his _Grandame_, 206 n.; - C.'s poem on Burns addressed to, 206 and note, 207; - extract from a letter to C., 223 n.; - visits C. at Nether Stowey, 224 and note, 225-227; - temporary estrangement from C., 249-253; - his relations to the quarrel between C. and Southey, 304, 312, 320 n.; - visits C. at Greta Hall with his sister, 396 n.; - a Latin letter from, 400 n.; - 405 n., 421, 422, 460 n., 474; - his _Recollections of a Late Royal Academician_, 572 n.; - his connection with the reconciliation of C. and Wordsworth, 586-588, - 594; - on William Blake's paintings, engravings, and poems, 686 n.; - 704; - his _Superannuated Man_, 740; - 744; - his acquaintance with George Dyer, 748 n.; - 751 n., 760; - letter of condolence from C., 171; - other letters from C., 249, 586. - - _Lamb, Charles, Letters of_, 164 n., 171 n., 197 n., 396 n., 400 n., 465 - n., 466 n., 686 n., 748 n. - - _Lamb's Prose Works_, 4 n., 20 n., 25 n., 41 n. - - Lamb, Mary, 127, 128, 226 n.; - visits the Coleridges at Greta Hall with her brother Charles, 396 n.; - becomes worse and is taken to a private madhouse, 422; - 465; - learns from C. of his quarrel with Wordsworth, 590, 591; - endeavors to bring about a reconciliation between C. and Wordsworth, - 594; - 704. - - Lampedusa, island, essay on, 495 and note. - - Landlord at Keswick, C.'s, 335. - _See_ Jackson, Mr. - - Lardner, Nathaniel, D. D., his _Letter on the Logos_, 157; - his _History of the Heretics of the first two Centuries after Christ_, - 330; - on a passage in Josephus, 407. - - Latin essay by C., 29 n. - - Laudanum, used by C. in an attack of neuralgia, 173 and note, 174 and - note, 175-177; - 193, 240, 617, 659. - _See_ Opium. - - Lauderdale, James Maitland, Earl of, 689 and note. - - Law, human as distinguished from divine, 635, 636. - - Lawrence, Miss, governess in the family of Dr. Peter Crompton, 758 n.; - letter from C., 758. - - Lawrence, William, 711 n. - - Lawson, Sir Gilford, 270; - C. has free access to his library, 336; - 392. - - _Lay of the Last Minstrel, The_, by Scott, 523. - - _Lay Sermon_, the second, 669. - - Leach, William Elford, C. meets, 711 and note. - - Lecky, G. F., British Consul at Syracuse, 458; - C. entertained by, 485 n. - - Lectures, C.'s at the Royal Institution, 506 n., 507, 508, 511, 515, - 516, 522, 525; - at the rooms of the London Philosophical Society, 574 and note, 575 - and note; - a proposed course at Liverpool, 578; - preparations for another course in London, 579, 580, 582, 585; - at Willis's Rooms on the Drama, 595 and note, 596, 597, 599; - 602, 604; - an extempore lecture _On the Growth of the Individual Mind_, at the - rooms of the London Philosophical Society, 680 and note, 681; - regarded as a means of livelihood, 694; - on the History of Philosophy, delivered at the Crown and Anchor, - Strand, 698 and note. - - _Lectures on Shakespeare_, 575 n. - - _Lectures on Shakespeare and Other Dramatists_, 756 n. - - Leghorn, 498, 499 and note, 500. - - Le Grice, Charles Valentine, 23, 24; - his _Tineum_, 111 and note; - 225 and note, 325. - - Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm, Baron von, 280, 360, 735. - - Leighton, Robert, Archbishop of Glasgow, his genius and character, 717, - 718; - his orthodoxy, 719; - C. proposes to compile a volume of selections from his writings, 719, - 720; - C. at work on the compilation, which, together with his own comment - and corollaries, is finally published as _Aids to Reflection_, 734 - and note. - - Leslie, Charles Robert, 695 and note; - his pencil sketch of C., 695 n.; - introduces a portrait of C. into an illustration for _The Antiquary_, - 736 and note. - - _Lessing, Life of_, C. proposes to write, 270; - 321, 323, 338. - - Letters, C.'s reluctance to open and answer, 534. - - _Letters from the Lake Poets_, 25 n., 86 n., 267 n., 366 n., 369 n., 527 - n., 534 n., 542 n., 543 n., 705 n. - - Letter smuggling, 459. - - _Letters on the Spaniards_, 629 and note. - - _Letter to a Noble Lord_, by Edmund Burke, 157 and note. - - Leviathan, the man-of-war, 467; - a majestic and beautiful creature, 471, 472; - 477. - - Lewis Monk, his play, _Castle Spectre_, 236 and note, 237, 238, 626. - - _Liberty, the Progress of_, 206. - - Life and death, meditations on, 283-287. - - Life-masks of C., 570 and note. - - _Lime-Tree Bower my Prison, this_, 225 and note, 226 and notes, 227, 228 - n. - - _Lines on a Friend who died of a Frenzy Fever_, 98 and note, 103 n., 106 - and note. - - _Lines to a Friend_, 8 n. - - _Lippincott's Magazine_, 674 n. - - Lisbon, the Rock of, 473. - - _Literary Life._ See _Biographia Literaria_. - - _Literary Remains_, 684 n., 740 n., 756 n., 761 n. - - Literature, a proposed History of British, 425-427, 429, 430. - - Literature as a profession, C.'s opinion of, 191, 192. - - Live nits, 360. - - Liverpool, 578. - - Liverpool, Lord, 665, 674. - - Llandovery, 411. - - Llanfyllin, 79. - - Llangollen, 80. - - Llangunnog, 79. - - Lloyd, Mr., father of Charles, 168, 186. - - Lloyd, Charles, and Woolman's Journal, 4 n.; - goes to live with C., 168-170; - character and genius of, 169, 170; - 184, 189, 190, 192, 205, 206; - his _Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer_, 206 n.; - 207 n., 208 n.; - with C. at Nether Stowey, 213; - 238; - a serious quarrel with C., 238, 245 n., 246, 249-253; - his _Edmund Oliver_ drawn from C.'s life, 252 and note; - his relations to the quarrel between C. and Southey, 304; - reading Greek with Christopher Wordsworth, 311; - unworthy of confidence, 311, 312; - his _Edmund Oliver_, 311; - his moral sense warped, 322, 323; - settles at Ambleside, 344; - C. spends a night with him at Bratha, 394; - 563; - his _History of Highgate_, 572 n., 578. - - Llyswen, 234 n., 235 n. - - Loch Katrine, 431, 432 and note, 433. - - Loch Lomond, 431, 432 n., 433, 440. - - Locke, John, C.'s opinion of his philosophy, 349-351, 648; - 713. - - Lockhart, Mr., 756. - - Lodore, the waterfall of, 335, 408. - - Lodore mountains, the, 370. - - _Logic, The Elements of_, 753 n. - - _Logic, The History of_, 753 n. - - _Logos, Letter on the_, by Dr. Nathaniel Lardner, 157. - - London, Bishop of, 739; - his favourable opinion of _Aids to Reflection_, 741. - - London Philosophical Society, C.'s lectures at the rooms of, 574 and - note, 575 and note, 680 n. - - Longman, Mr., the publisher, 319, 321; - on anonymous publications, 324, 325; - 328, 329, 341, 349, 357; - loses money on C.'s translation of _Wallenstein_, 403; - 593. - - Lonsdale, Lord, 538 n., 550, 733 n. - - Losh, James, 219 and note. - - Louis XVI., the death of, 219 and note. - - _Love_, George Dawe engaged on a picture to illustrate C.'s poem, 573. - - _Love and the Female Character_, C.'s lecture, 574 n., 575 and note. - - Lovell, Robert, 75; - C.'s opinion of his poems, 110; - 114; - his _Farmhouse_, 115, 121, 122, 139, 147, 150; - dies, 159 n.; - 317 n. - - _Lovell, Robert, and Robert Southey of Balliol College, Bath, Poems by_, - 107 n. - - Lovell, Mrs. Robert (Mary Fricker), 122, 159 and note, 485. - - _Lover's Complaint to his Mistress, A_, 36. - - _Low was our pretty Cot_, C.'s opinion of, 224. - - Lubec, 274, 275. - - Lucretius, his philosophy and his poetry, 648. - - Luff, Captain, 369 and note, 547. - - _Luise, ein ländliches Gedicht in drei Idyllen_, by Johann Heinrich - Voss, quotation from, 203 n.; - an emphatically original poem, 625; - 627. - - Lüneburg, 278. - - Lushington, Mr., 101. - - Luss, 431. - - _Lycon, Ode to_, by Robert Southey, 107 n., 108. - - _Lyrical Ballads_, by Coleridge and Wordsworth, 336, 337, 341, 350 and - note, 387, 607, 678. - - - Macaulay, Alexander, death of, 491. - - Mackintosh, Sir James, his rejected offer to procure a place for C. - under himself in India, 454, 455; - C.'s dislike and distrust of, 454 n., 455 n.; - 596. - - Macklin, Harriet, 751 and note, 764. - - Madeira, 442, 451, 452. - - _Madoc_, by Southey, C. urges its completion and publication, 314, 467; - 357; - C.'s enthusiasm for, 388, 489, 490; - a divine passage of, 463 and note. - - _Mad Ox, The_, 219 n., 327. - - Magee, William, D. D., 761 n. - - _Magnum Opus._ See _Christianity, the one true Philosophy_. - - _Maid of Orleans_, 239. - - Malta, C. plans a trip to, 457, 458; - the voyage to, 469-481; - sojourn at, 481-484, 487-497; - army affairs at, 554, 555. - - Maltese, the, 483 and note, 484 and note. - - Maltese, Regiment, the, 554, 555. - - _Malvern Hills_, by Joseph Cottle, 358. - - Manchester Massacre, the, 702 n. - - Manchineel, 223 n. - - Marburg, 291. - - Margarot, 166, 167 n. - - Markes, Rev. Mr., 310. - - Marriage as a means of ensuring the nature and education of children, - 216, 217. - - Marsh, Herbert, Bishop of Peterborough, his lecture on the authenticity - and credibility of the books collected in the New Testament, 707, - 708. - - Martin, Rev. H., 74 n., 81 n. - - _Mary, the Maid of the Inn_, by Southey, 223. - - Massena, Marshal, defeats the Russians at Zurich, 308 and note. - - Masy, Mr., 40. - - Mathews, Charles, C. hears and sees his entertainment, _At Home_, 704, - 705; - letter from C., 621. - - _Mattathias, The Death of_, by Robert Southey, 108 and note. - - Maurice, Rev. John Frederick Dennison, 771 n. - - Maxwell, Captain, of the Royal Artillery, 493, 495, 496. - - McKinnon, General, 309 n. - - Medea, a subject for a tragedy, 399. - - Meditation, C.'s habits of, 658. - - Medwin, Capt. Thomas, his _Conversations of Lord Byron_, 735 and note. - - Meerschaum pipes, 277. - - _Melancholy, a Fragment_, 396 and note, 397. - - Memory of childhood in old age, 428. - - Mendelssohn, Moses, 203 n., 204 n. - - _Men of the Time_, 317 n. - - Merry, Robert, 86 n. - - Messina, 485, 486. - - Metaphysics, 102, 347-352; - C. proposes to write a book on Locke, Hobbes, and Hume, 349, 350; - in poetry, 372; - effect of the study of, 388; - C.'s projected great work on, 632 and note, 633; - of the German philosophers, 681-683, 735; - 712, 713. - See _Christianity, the One True Philosophy_, Philosophy, Religion. - - Meteyard, Eliza, her _Group of Englishmen_, 269 n., 308 n. - - _Method, Essay on the Science of_, 681 and note. - - Methuen, Rev. T. A., 652 and note. - - _Microcosm_, 43 and note. - - Middleton, H. F. (afterwards Bishop of Calcutta), 23, 25, 32, 33. - - Milman, Henry Hart, 737 and note. - - Milton, John, 164, 197 and note; - a sublimer poet than Homer or Virgil, 199, 200; - the imagery in _Paradise Lost_ borrowed from the Scriptures, 199, 200; - his _Accidence_, 331; - on poetry, 387; - his platonizing spirit, 406, 407; - 678, 734. - - Milton, Lord, 567 and note. - - Mind _versus_ Nature, in youth and later life, 742, 743. - - _Minor Poems_, 317 n. - - _Miscellanies, Æsthetic and Literary_, 711 n. - - _Miss Rosamond_, by Southey, 108 and note. - - Mitford, Mary Russell, 63 n. - - Molly, 11. - - Monarchy likened to a cockatrice, 73. - - _Monday's Beard, On Mrs._, 9 n. - - Money, Rev. William, 651 n.; - letter from C., 651. - - _Monody on the Death of Chatterton_, 110 n., 158 n., 620 n. - - _Monologue to a Young Jackass in Jesus Piece_, 119 n. - - _Monopolists_, 335 n. - - Montagu, Basil, 363 n., 511 n.; - causes a misunderstanding between C. and Wordsworth, 578, 586-591, - 593, 599, 612; - endeavours to have an associateship of the Royal Society of Literature - conferred on C., 726, 727; - his efforts successful, 728; - 749. - - Montagu, Mrs. Basil, her connection with the quarrel between C. and - Wordsworth, 588, 589, 591, 599. - - _Monthly Magazine_, the, 179 and note, 185, 197, 215, 251 n., 310, 317. - - Moore, Thomas, his _Lalla Rookh_, 672; - his misuse of the possessive case, 672. - - Moors, C.'s opinion of, 478. - - Morality and religion, 676. - - Moreau, Jean Victor, 449 and note. - - Morgan, Mrs., 145, 148. - - Morgan, John James, 524, 526; - a faithful and zealous friend, 580; - C. confides the news of his quarrel with Wordsworth to, 591, 592; - 596, 650, 665; - letter from C., 575. - - Morgan, Mrs. John James, C.'s affection for, 565; - 578, 600, 618, 650, 722 n.; - letter from C., 524. - - Morgan family, the (J. J. Morgan, his wife, and his wife's sister, Miss - Charlotte Brent), C.'s feelings of affection, esteem, and - gratitude towards, 519, 520, 524-526, 565; - C. visits, 566-575 and note, 579-622; - 585; - C. confides the news of his quarrel with Wordsworth to, 591, 592; - C. regards as his saviours, 592; - 600 n.; - with C. at Calne, 641-653; - their faithful devotion to C., 657, 722 n.; - letters from C., 519, 524, 564. - - Mortimer, John Hamilton, 373 and note. - - _Motion of Contentment_, by Archdeacon Paley, 47. - - Motley, J. C., 467-469, 475. - - Mountains, of Portugal, 470, 473; - about Gibraltar, 478. - - Mumps, the, 545 and note. - - Murray, John, 581; - proposes to publish a translation of _Faust_, 624-626; - his connection with the publication of _Zapolya_, 666 and note, - 667-669; - offers C. two hundred guineas for a volume of specimens of Rabbinical - wisdom, 667 n.; - 699 n.; - proposal from C. to compile a volume of selections from Archbishop - Leighton, 717-720; - 723; - his proposal to publish an edition of C.'s poems, 787; - letters from C., 624, 665, 717. - - _Murray, John, Memoirs of_, 624 n., 666 n. - - Music, 49. - - Myrtle, praise of the, 745, 746. - - Mythology, Greek and Roman, contrasted with Christianity, 199, 200. - - - Nanny, 260, 295. - - Naples, 486, 502. - - Napoleon, 308, 327 n., 329 and note; - his animosity against C., 498 n.; - 530 n.; - C.'s cartoon and lines on, 642. - - _Napoleon Bonaparte, Life of_, by Sir Walter Scott, 174 n. - - _Natural Theology_, by William Paley, 424 n., 425 n. - - Nature, her influence on the passions, 243, 244; - Mind and, two rival artists, 742, 743. - - _Natur-philosophen_, C. on the, 682, 683. - - _Navigation and Discovery, The Spirit of_, by William Lisle Bowles, 403 - and note. - - Necessitarianism, the sophistry of, 454. - - Neighbours, 186. - - Nelson, Lady, 637. - - Nelson, Lord, 637 and note. - - Nesbitt, Fanny, C.'s poem to, 56, 57. - - Netherlands, the, 751. - - Nether Stowey, 165 and note; - C. proposes to move to, 184-194; - arrangements for moving to, 209; - settled at, 213; - C.'s description of his place at, 213; - Thelwall urged not to settle at, 232-234; - the curate-in-charge of, 267 n.; - 297, 325, 366; - C.'s last visit to, 405 n.; - 497 n. - - Neuralgia, a severe attack of, 173-177. - - Newcome's (Mr.) School, 7, 25 n. - - Newlands, 393 and note, 411, 725. - - _New Monthly Magazine_, 257. - - Newspapers, freshness necessary for, 568. - - New Testament, the, Bishop March's lecture on the authenticity and - credibility of the books collected in, 707, 708. - - Newton, Mr., 48. - - Newton, Mrs., sister of Thomas Chatterton, 221, 222. - - Newton, Sir Isaac, 352. - - _Nightingale, The, a Conversational Poem_, 296 n. - - _Ninathoma, The Complaint of_, 51. - - Nixon, Miss Eliza, unpublished lines of C. to, 773 n., 774 n.; - letter from C., 773. - - Nobs, Dr. Daniel Dove's horse, in _The Doctor_, 583 and note, 584. - - _No more the visionary soul shall dwell_, 109 and note, 208 n. - - Nordhausen, 273. - - Northcote, Sir Stafford, 15 and note. - - Northmore, Thomas, C. dines with, 306, 307; - an offensive character to the aristocrats, 310. - - North Wales, C.'s tour of, 72-81. - - _Notes on Hamlet_, 684 n. - - _Notes on Noble's Appeal_, 684 n. - - _Notes Theological and Political_, 684 n., 761 n. - - Nottingham, 153, 154, 216. - - Novi, Suwarrow's victory at, 307 and note. - - Nuremberg, 555. - - - Objective, different meanings of the term, 755. - - _Observations on Egypt_, 486 n. - - Ocean, the, by night, 260. - - _Ode in the manner of Anacreon, An_, 35. - - _Ode on the Poetical Character_, by William Collins, 196. - - _Odes to Great People_, by Thomas Hood, 250 n. - - _Ode to Dejection_, 378 and note, 379 and note, 380-384, 405 n. - - _Ode to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire_, 320 and note, 330. - - _Ode to Lycon_, by Robert Southey, 107 n., 108. - - _Ode to Romance_, by Robert Southey, 107 and note. - - _Ode to the Departing Year_, 212 n.; - C.'s reply to Thelwall's criticisms on, 218 and note; - 221. - - _Ode to the Duchess_, 320 and note, 330. - - _O gentle look, that didst my soul beguile_, a sonnet, 111, 112 and note. - - Ogle, Captain, 63 and note. - - Ogle, Lieutenant, 374 n. - - Ogle, Dr. Newton, Dean of Westminster, his Latin Iambics, 374 and note. - - Oken, Lorenz, his _Natural History_, 736. - - _Old Man in the Snow_, 110 and note. - - _Omniana_, by C. and Southey, 9 n., 554 n., 718 n. - - _On a Discovery made too late_, 92 and note, 123 n. - - _On a late Connubial Rupture_, 179 n. - - _On an Infant who died before its Christening_, 287. - - _Once a Jacobin, always a Jacobin_, 414. - - _On Revisiting the Sea-Shore_, 361 n. - - Onstel, 97 n. - - _On the Slave Trade_, 43 and note. - - Opium, C.'s early use of, and beginning of the habit, 173 and note, 174 - and note, 175; - first recourse to it for the relief of mental distress, 245 n.; - daily quantity reduced, 413; - regarded as less harmful than other stimulants, 413; - 420; - its use discontinued for a time, 434, 435; - anguish and remorse from its abuse, 616-621, 623, 624; - in order to free himself from the slavery, C. arranges to live with - Mr. James Gillman as a patient, 657-659; - a final effort to give up the use of it altogether, 760 and note; - the habit regulated and brought under control, but never entirely done - away with, 760 n., 761 n. - - Oporto, seen from the sea, 469, 470. - - _Orestes_, by William Sotheby, 402, 409, 410. - - Original Sin, C. a believer in, 242. - - _Original Sin, Letter on_, by Jeremy Taylor, 640. - - _Origine de tous les Cultes, ou Religion universelle_, by Charles - François Dupuis, 181 and note. - - _Origin, Nature, and Object of the New System of Education_, by Andrew - Bell, D. D., 581 and note, 582. - - _Osorio_, a tragedy, 10 n., 229 and note, 231, 284 n., 603 n. - See _Remorse_. - - Ossian, hexameters in, 398. - - Otter, the river, 14, 15. - - Ottery St. Mary, 6-8, 305 n.; - C. wished by his family to settle at, 325; - C.'s last visit to, 405 n.; - a proposed visit to, 512, 513; - 745 n. - - Owen, William, 425 n. - - _O what a loud and fearful shriek was there_, a sonnet, 116 n., 117. - - Owls, care of, in Germany, 293. - - Oxford University, C.'s feeling towards, 45, 72. - - - Paignton, 305 n. - - _Pain_, a sonnet, 174 n. - - Pain, C. interested in, 341. - - _Pains of Sleep, The_, 435-437 and note. - - Paley, William, Archdeacon of Carlisle, his _Motives of Contentment_, 47; - his _Natural Theology_, 424 and note; - 713. - - Palm, John Philip, his pamphlet reflecting on Napoleon leads to his - trial and execution, 530 and note; - C. translates his pamphlet, 530. - - Pantisocracy, 73, 79, 81, 82, 88-91, 101-103, 109 n., 121, 122, 134, - 135, 138-141, 143-147, 149, 317 n., 748 n. - - _Paradise Lost_, by Milton, its imagery borrowed from the Scriptures, - 199, 200. - - Parasite, a, 705. - - Parliamentary Reform, essay on, 567. - - Parndon House, 506 n., 507, 508. - - Parret, the river, 165. - - Parties, political, in England, 242. - - Pasquin, Antony, 603 and note. - - Patience, 203 and note. - - Patteson, Hon. Mr. Justice, 726 n. - - Paul, Charles Kegan, his _William Godwin: His Friends and - Contemporaries_, 161 n., 324 n., 465 n. - - _Pauper's Funeral_, by Robert Southey, 108 and note, 109. - - _Peace and Union_, by William Friend, 24 n. - - Pearce, Dr., Master of Jesus College, 23, 24, 65, 70-72. - - _Pedlar, The_, former title of Wordsworth's _Excursion_, 337 and note. - - Peel, Sir Robert, 689 n. - - Penche, M. de la, 49. - - Penmaen Mawr, C.'s ascent of, 81 n. - - Penn, William, 539. - - Pennington, W., 541, 542 n., 544. - - Penrith, 420, 421, 547, 548, 575 n. - - Penruddock, 420, 421. - - Perceval, Rt. Hon. Spencer, assassination of, 597, 598 and note. - - Perdita, _see_ Robinson, Mrs. Mary. - - _Peripatetic, The, or Sketches of the Heart, of Nature, and of Society_, - by John Thelwall, 166 and note. - - Perry, James, 114. - - _Perspiration. A Travelling Eclogue_, 73. - - Peterloo, 702 n. - - _Philip Van Artevelde_, by Sir Henry Taylor, 774 and note. - - Phillips, Elizabeth (C.'s half sister), 54 n. - - Phillips, Sir Richard, 317 and note, 325, 327. - - Phillips, Thomas, R. A., 699; - his two portraits of C., 699 and note, 700, 740; - his portrait of William Hart Coleridge, Bishop of Barbadoes and the - Leeward Islands, 740 and note. - - _Philological Museum_, 733 n. - - Philosophy, 648-650; - German, 681-683; - C.'s lectures on the History of, 698 and note. - _See_ Metaphysics _and_ Religion. - - Pickering, W., 579 n. - - _Picture, The: or The Lover's Resolution_, 405 n., 620 n. - - Pinney, Mr., of Bristol, 163 n.; - his estate in the West Indies, 360, 361. - - Pipes, meerschaum, 277. - - Pisa, C.'s stay at, 499 n., 500 n.; - his account of, 500 n. - - Pitt, Rt. Hon. William, C.'s report in the _Morning Post_ of his speech - on the continuance of the war with France, 327 and note; - proposed articles on, 505; - C.'s detestation of, 535 and note; - 629 and note. - - _Pixies' Parlour, The_, 222. - - Plampin, J., 70 and note. - - Plato, his _gorgeous_ nonsense, 211; - his theology, 406. - - Playing-cards, German, 263. - - Pleasure, intoxicating power of, 370. - - Plinlimmon, C.'s ascent of, 81 n. - - _Plot Discovered, The_, 156 and note. - - _Poems by Robert Lovell and Robert Southey of Balliol College, Bath_, - 107 n. - - Poems and fragments of poems introduced by C. into his letters, 28, 35, - 36, 51, 52, 54, 56, 73, 75, 77, 83, 92, 94, 98, 100, 111-113, 207, - 212, 225, 355, 379-384, 388, 389, 397, 404, 412, 435-437, 553, - 609, 620, 642, 646, 702, 770, 771. - - _Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer_, by Charles Lloyd, 206 and note. - - _Poetical Character, Ode on the_, by Collins, 196. - - _Poetry, Concerning_, a proposed book, 347, 386, 387. - - Poetry, C. proposes to write an essay on, 338, 347, 386, 387; - Greek and Hebrew, 405, 406. - - Poetry, C.'s, not obscure or mystical, 194, 195. - - Poland, 329. - - Political parties in England, 242. - - Politics, 240-243, 546, 550, 553, 574, 702, 712, 713, 757. - _See_ Democracy, Pantisocracy, Republicanism. - - Poole, Richard, 249. - - Poole, Mrs. Richard, 248. - - Poole, Thomas, contributes to _The Watchman_, 155; - collects a testimonial in the form of an annuity of £35 or £40 for C., - 158 n.; - C.'s gratitude, 158, 159; - C. proposes to visit, 159; - C.'s affection for, 168, 210, 258, 609, 610, 753; - C. proposes to visit him with Charles Lloyd, 170; - C.'s happiness at the prospect of living near, 173; - his connection with C.'s removal to Nether Stowey, 183-193, 208-210; - 213, 219, 220; - his opinion of Wordsworth, 221; - 232 and note, 233, 239, 257, 258, 260, 282 n., 289; - effects a reconciliation between C. and Southey, 390; - 308, 319; - C.'s reasons for not naming his third son after, 344; - death of his mother, 364; - 396, 437 n.; - nobly employed, 453; - his rectitude and simplicity of heart, 454; - 456 n.; - his forgetfulness, 460; - 515, 523; - extract from a letter from C., 533 n.; - a visit to Grasmere proposed, 545; - his narrative of John Walford, 553 and note; - C. complains of unkindness from, 609, 610; - 639 n., 657; - meets C. at Samuel Purkis's, Brentford, 673; - extract from a letter from C. about Samuel Purkis, 673 n.; - autobiographical letters from C., 3-18; - other letters from C., 136, 155, 158, 168, 172, 176, 183-187, 208, - 248, 249, 258, 267, 282, 305, 335, 343, 348, 350, 364, 452, 454, - 541, 544, 550, 556, 609, 673, 753. - - _Poole, Thomas, and his Friends_, by Mrs. Henry Sandford, 158 n., 165 - n., 170 n., 183 n., 232 n., 234 n., 258, 267 n., 282 n., 391 n., - 335 n., 456 n., 533 n., 553 n., 673 n., 676 n. - - Poole, William, 176. - - Pope, the, C. leaves Rome at a warning from, 498 n. - - Pope, Alexander, his _Essay on Man_, 648; - a favorite walk of, 671. - - Pople, Mr., publisher of C.'s tragedy, _Remorse_, 602. - - Porson, Mr., 114, 115. - - Portinscale, 393 and note. - - Portraits of C., crayon sketch by Dawe, 572 and note; - full-length portrait by Allston begun at Rome, 572 and note; - portrait by Allston taken at Bristol, 572 n.; - pencil sketch by Leslie, 695 n.; - two portraits by Thomas Phillips, 699 and note, 700, 740; - Wyville's proofs, 770. - - Portugal, C. on Southey's proposed history of, 387, 388, 423; - the coast of, 469-471, 473. - - Possessive case, Moore's misuse of the, 672. - - _Post, Morning_, 310; - C. writing for, 320 and note, 324, 326, 327 and note, 329 and note; - 331, 335 n., 337, 376, 378 n., 379 n., 398, 404 n., 405, 414, 423, - 455 n.; - Napoleon's animosity aroused by C.'s articles in, 498 n.; - its notice of C.'s tragedy, _Remorse_, 603 n. - - Postage, rates too high, 345. - - _Posthumous Fame_, 29 n. - - Potter, Mr., 97 and note, 106. - - Poverty, in England, 353, 354; - blessings of, 364. - - Pratt, 321. - - _Prelude, The_, by Wordsworth, a reference to C. in, 486 n.; - C.'s lines _To William Wordsworth_ after hearing him recite, 641, 644, - 646, 647 and note; - C.'s admiration of, 645, 647 n. - - Pride, 149. - - Priestley, Joseph, C.'s sonnet to, 116 and note; - his doctrine as to the future existence of infants, 286. - - _Progress of Liberty, The_, 296. - - _Prometheus of Æschylus, Essay on the_, 740 and note. - - Property, to be modified by the predominance of intellect, 323. - - Pseudonym, [Greek: Estêse], 398; - its meaning, 407 and note, 408. - - _Public Characters for 1799-1800_, published by Richard Phillips, 317 n. - - _Puff and Slander_, projected satires, 630 and notes, 631 n. - - Purkis, Samuel, 326, 673 n. - - - Quack medicine, a German, 264. - - _Quaker Family, Records of a_, by Anne Ogden Boyce, 538 n. - - Quaker girl, inelegant remark of a little, 362, 368. - - Quakerism, 415; - C.'s belief in the essentials of, 539-541; - C.'s definition of, 556. - - Quakers, as subscribers to _The Friend_, 556, 557. - - Quakers and Unitarians, the only Christians, 415. - - Quantocks, the, 405 n. - - _Quarterly Review, The_, 606; - its review of _The Letters of Lord Nelson to Lady Hamilton_, 637 and - note, 667; - reëchoes C.'s praise of Cary's Dante, 677 n.; - its attitude towards C., 697, 723; - John Taylor Coleridge editor of, 736 and notes, 737. - - - _Rabbinical Tales_, 667 and note, 669. - - Racedown, C.'s visit to Wordsworth at, 163 n., 220 and note, 221. - - _Race of Banquo, The_, by Southey, 92 and note. - - Rae, Mr., an actor, 611, 667. - - _Rainbow, The_, by Southey, 108 and note. - - Ramsgate, 700, 722, 729-731, 742-744. - - Ratzeburg, 257; - C.'s stay in, 262-278; - the Amtmann of, 264, 268, 271; - description of, 273-277; - C. leaves, 278; - 292-294. - - "Raw Head" and "Bloody Bones," 45. - - Reading, _see_ Books. - - Reading, Berkshire, 66, 67. - - Reason and understanding, the distinction between, 712, 713. - - _Recluse, The_, a projected poem by Wordsworth of which _The Excursion_ - (q. v.) was to form the second part and to which _The Prelude_ (q. - v.) was to be an introduction, C.'s hopes for, 646, 647 and note, - 648-650. - - _Recollections of a Late Royal Academician_, by Charles Lamb, 572 n. - - _Records of a Quaker Family_, by Anne Ogden Boyce, 538 n. - - Redcliff, 144. - - Redcliff Hill, 154. - - _Reflection, Aids to_, 688 n. - - _Reflections on having left a Place of Retirement_, 606 n. - - Reform Bill, 760, 762. - - Reich, Dr., 734, 736. - - _Rejected Addresses_, by Horace and James Smith, 606. - - Religion, beliefs and doubts of C. in regard to, 64, 68, 69, 88, 105, - 106, 127, 135, 152, 153, 159-161, 167, 171, 172, 198-205, 210, - 211, 228, 229, 235 n., 242, 247, 248, 285, 286, 342, 364, 365, - 407, 414, 415, 444, 538-541, 617-620, 624, 676, 688, 694, 706-712, - 746-748, 750, 754, 758-760, 762, 763, 771, 775, 776. - - _Religious Musings_, 239. - - _Reminiscences of Cambridge_, by Henry Gunning, 24 n., 363 n. - - _Reminiscences of Coleridge and Southey_, by Cottle, 268 n., 269 n., - 417, 456 n., 617 n. - - Remorse, C.'s definition of, 607. - - _Remorse, A Tragedy_ (_Osorio_ rewritten), rehearsal of, 600; - has a brief spell of success, 600 n., 602, 604, 610, 611; - business arrangements as to its publication, 602; - press notices of, 603 and note, 604; - William Gifford's criticism of, 605; - the underlying principle of the plot of, 607, 608; - wretchedly acted, 608, 611; - metres of, 608; - lack of pathos in, 608; - plagiarisms in, 608; - labors occasioned to C. by its production and success, 610; - financial success of, 611; - _Quarterly Review's_ criticism of, 630; - 696. - - Repentance preached by the Christian religion, 201. - - Reporting the debates for the _Morning Post_, 324, 326, 327. - - Republicanism, 72, 79-81, 243. - _See_ Democracy, Pantisocracy. - - _Retrospect, The_, by Robert Southey, 107 and note. - - Revelation, 676. - - Reynell, Richard, 497 and note. - - Rheumatism, C.'s sufferings from, 174 n., 193, 209, 307, 308, 432, 433. - - Rhine, the, 751. - - Richards, George, 41 and note. - - Richardson, Mrs., 145. - - Richter, Jean Paul, his _Vorschule der Aisthetik_, 683 and note. - - Rickman, John, 456 n., 459, 462, 542, 599. - - Ridgeway and Symonds, publishers, 638 n. - - _Robbers, The_, by Schiller, 96 and note, 97, 221. - - Roberts, Margaret, 358 n. - - Robespierre, Maximilian Marie Isidore, 203 n., 329 n. - - _Robespierre, The Fall of_, 85 and note, 87, 93, 104 and notes. - - Robinson, Frederick John (afterwards Earl of Ripon), his Corn Bill, 643 - and note. - - Robinson, Henry Crabb, 225 n., 593, 599, 670 n.; - in old age, 671 n.; - reads William Blake's poems to Wordsworth, 686 n.; - extract from a letter from C. to, 689 n.; - his _Diary_, 225 n., 575 n., 591 n., 595 n., 686 n., 689 n.; - letter from C., 671. - - Robinson, Mrs. Mary ("Perdita"), contributes poems to the _Annual - Anthology_, 322 and note; - her _Haunted Beach_, 331, 332; - her ear for metre, 332. - - Roman Catholicism in Germany, 291, 292. - - _Romance, Ode to_, by Southey, 107 and note. - - Rome, C.'s flight from, 498 n.; - 501, 502. - - _Rosamund, Miss_, by Southey, 108 and note. - - _Rosamund to Henry; written after she had taken the veil_, by Southey, - 108 n. - - Roscoe, William, 359 and note. - - Rose, Sir George, 456 and note. - - _Rose, The_, 54 and note. - - Rose, W., 542. - - Roskilly, Rev. Mr., 267 n., 270; - letter from C., 267. - - Ross, 77. - - Ross, the Man of, 77, 651 n. - - Rossetti, Gabriele, 731 and note, 732, 733. - - Rough, Sergeant, 225 and note. - - Royal Institution, C. obtains a lectureship at the, 506 n., 507, 508, - 511; - an outline of proposed lectures at the, 515, 516, 522; - C.'s lectures at the, 525. - - Royal Society of Literature, the, Basil Montagu's endeavors to secure - for C. an associateship of, 726, 727; - C. an associate of, 728; - 731; - an essay for, 737, 738; - C. reads an _Essay on the Prometheus of Æschylus_ before, 739, 740. - - Rulers, always as bad as they dare to be, 240. - - Rush, Sir William, 368. - - Rushiford, 358. - - Russell, Mr., of Exeter, C.'s fellow-traveller, 498 n., 500 and note. - - Rustats, 24, 43. - - _Ruth_, by Wordsworth, 387. - - Ruthin, 78. - - - St. Albyn, Mrs., the owner of Alfoxden, 232 n. - - St. Augustine, 375. - - St. Bees, 392, 393. - - St. Blasius, 292. - - St. Clear, 411, 412. - - St. Lawrence, near Maldon, description of, 690-692. - - _St. Leon_, by Godwin, the copyright sold for £400, 324, 325. - - St. Nevis, 360, 361. - - St. Paul's _Epistle to the Hebrews_, 200. - - Salernitanus, 566 and note. - - Salisbury, 53-55. - - Samuel, C.'s dislike of the name, 470, 471. - - Sandford, Mrs. Henry, 183 n.; - her _Thomas Poole and his Friends_, 158 n., 165 n., 170 n., 183 n., - 232 n., 234 n., 258, 267 n., 282 n., 319 n., 335 n., 456 n., 533 - n., 553 n., 673 n., 676 n. - - Saturday Club, the, at Göttingen, 281. - - _Satyrane's Letters_, 257, 274 n., 558. - - Savage, Mr., 534. - - Savory, Mr., 316. - - Scafell, 393, 394; - in a thunderstorm on, 400 and note; - view from the summit of, 400, 401; - suggests the _Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni_, 404 and - note, 405 and note. - - Scale Force, 375. - - Scarborough, 361-363. - - Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von, the philosophy of, 683, 735. - - Schiller, his _Robbers_, 96 and note, 97, 221; - C. translates manuscript plays of, 331; - C.'s translation of his _Wallenstein_, 403, 608. - - Scholarship examinations, 24, 43, 45 and note, 46. - - Schöning, Maria Eleanora, the story of, 555 and note, 556. - - Scoope, Emanuel, second Viscount Howe, 262 n. - - Scotland, C.'s tour in, 431-441; - the four most wonderful sights in, 439, 440. - - Scott, an attorney, his manner of revenging himself on C., 310, 311. - - Scott, Sir Walter, his _Life of Napoleon Bonaparte_, 174 n.; - his house in Edinburgh, 439; - takes Hartley C. to the Tower, 511 n.; - his offer to use his influence to get a place for Southey on the staff - of the _Edinburgh Review_, 522 and note, 522; - his _Lay of the Last Minstrel_, 523; - 605, 694; - his _Antiquary_, 736 and note. - - Sea-bathing, 361 n., 362 and note. - - Seasickness, no sympathy for, 743, 744. - - _Sermoni propriora_, 606 and note. - - Shad, 82, 89, 96. - - Shaftesbury, Lord, 689 n. - - _Shakespeare, Lectures on_, 557 n. - - _Shakespeare and other Dramatists, Lectures on_, 756 n. - - Sharp, Richard, 447 n.; - letter from C., 447. - - Shepherds, German, 293. - - _Sheridan, R. B., Esq., To_, 116 n., 118. - - Shrewsbury, C. offered the Unitarian pastorate at, 235 and note, 236. - - _Sibylline Leaves_, 178 n., 378 n., 379 n., 404 n.; - C. ill-used by the printer of, 673, 674; - 678, 770. - - Sicily, C. plans to visit, 457, 458; - C.'s first tour in, 485 and note, 486 and note, 487; - 523. - - Siddons, Mrs., 50. - - Sieyès, Abbé, 329 and note. - - _Sigh, The_, 100 and note. - - _Simplicity, Sonnet to_, 251 and note. - - Sin, original, C. a believer in, 242. - - Sincerity, regarded by Dr. Darwin as vicious, 161. - - _Sixteen Sonnets_, by Bampfylde, 369 n. - - Skiddaw, 335, 336; - sunset over, 384. - - Skiddaw Forest, 376 n. - - Slavery, question of its introduction into the proposed pantisocratic - colony, 89, 90, 95, 96. - - _Slave Trade, History of the Abolition of the_, by Thomas Clarkson, C.'s - review of, 527 and note, 528-530, 535, 536. - - _Slave Trade, On the_, 43 and note. - - Slee, Miss, 362, 363. - - Sleep, C.'s sufferings in, 435, 440, 441, 447. - - Smerdon, Mrs., 21, 22. - - Smerdon, Rev. Mr., Vicar of Ottery, 22, 106 and note. - - Smith, Charlotte, 326. - - Smith, Horace and James, their _Rejected Addresses_, 606. - - Smith, James, 704. - - Smith, Raphael, 701 n. - - Smith, Robert Percy (Bobus), 43 and note. - - Smith, William, M. P., 506 n., 507 and note. - - Snuff, 691, 692 and note. - - _Social Life at the English Universities_, by Christopher Wordsworth, - 225 n. - - _Something Childish, but Very Natural_, quoted, 294. - - _Song_, 100. - - _Songs of the Pixies_, 222. - - _Sonnet_, an anonymous, 177, 178. - - _Sonnet composed on a journey homeward, the author having received - intelligence of the birth of a son_, 194 and note, 195. - - Sonnets, 111, 112, and note; - to Priestley, 116 and note; - to Kosciusko, 116 n., 117; - to Godwin, 116 n., 117; - to Sheridan, 116 n., 117, 118; - to Burke, 116 n., 118; - to Southey, 116 n., 120; - a selection of, privately printed by C., 177, 206 and note; - by "Nehemiah Higginbottom," 251 n. - - _Sonnets, Sixteen_, by Bampfylde, 309 n. - - _Sonnet to Simplicity_, 251 and note. - - _Sonnet to the Author of the Robbers_, 96 n. - - Sorrel, James, 21. - - Sotheby, William, C. translates Gesner's _Erste Schiffer_ at his - instance, 369, 371, 372, 376-378, 397, 402, 403; - his translation of the Georgics of Virgil, 375; - his _Poems_, 375; - his _Netley Abbey_, 396; - his _Welsh Tour_, 396; - his _Orestes_, 402, 409, 410; - proposes a fine edition of _Christabel_, 421, 422; - 492, 579, 595 n., 604, 605; - letters from C., 369, 376, 396-408. - - Sotheby, Mrs. William, 369, 375, 378. - - Soul and body, 708, 709. - - South Devon, 305 n. - - Southey, Lieutenant, 563. - - Southey, Bertha, daughter of Robert S., born, 546, 547 and note, 578. - - Southey, Catharine, daughter of Robert S., 578. - - Southey, Rev. Charles Cuthbert, his _Life and Correspondence of Robert - Southey_, 308 n., 309 n., 327 n., 329 n., 384 n., 395 n., 400 n., - 425 n., 488 n., 521 n., 584 n., 748 n.; - on the date of composition of _The Doctor_, 583 n. - - Southey, Edith, daughter of Robert S., 578. - - Southey, Dr. Henry, 615 and note. - - Southey, Herbert, son of Robert S., 578; - his nicknames, 583 n. - - Southey, Margaret, daughter of Robert S., born, 394 n., 395 n.; - dies, 435 n. - - Southey, Mrs. Margaret, mother of Robert S., 138, 147. - - Southey, Robert, his and C.'s _Omniana_, 9 n., 554 n., 718 n.; - his _Botany Bay Eclogues_, 76 n., 116; - proposed emigration to America with a colony of pantisocrats, 81, 82, - 89-91, 95, 96, 98, 101-103; - his sonnets, 82, 83, 92, 108; - his connection with C.'s engagement to Miss Sarah Fricker, 84-86, 126; - his _Race of Banquo_, 92 and note; - 97 n.; - his _Retrospect_, 107 and note; - his _Ode to Romance_, 107 and note; - his _Ode to Lycon_, 107 n., 108; - his _Death of Mattathias_, 108 and note; - his sonnets, _To Valentine_, _The Fire_, _The Rainbow_, 108 and notes; - his _Rosamund to Henry_, 108 and notes; - his _Pauper's Funeral_, 108 and note, 109; - his _Chapel Bell_, 110 and note; - C. prophesies fame for, 110; - his _Elegy_, 115; - C.'s sonnet to, 116 n., 120; - lines to Godwin, 120; - suggestion that the proposed colony of pantisocrats be founded in - Wales, 121, 122; - his sonnet, _Hold your mad hands!_, 127 and note; - his abandonment of pantisocracy causes a serious rupture with C., - 134-151; - marries Edith Fricker, 137 n.; - his _Joan of Arc_, 141, 149, 178 and note, 210, 319; - 163 n.; - the poet for the patriot, 178; - 198 and note; - his verses to a college cat, 207; - C. compares his poetry with his own, 210; - personal relations with C. after the partial reconciliation, 210, 211; - his exertions in aid of Chatterton's sister, 221, 222; - his _Mary the Maid of the Inn_, 223; - C.'s _Sonnet to Simplicity_ not written with reference to, 251 and - note; - a more complete reconciliation with C., 303, 304; - visits C. at Stowey with his wife, 304; - C., with his wife and child, visits him at Exeter, 305 and note; - accompanies C. on a walking tour in Dartmoor, 305 and note; - his _Specimens of the Later English Poets_, 309 n.; - his _Madoc_, 314, 357, 388, 463 and note, 467, 489, 490; - his _Thalaba the Destroyer_, 314, 319, 324, 357, 684; - out of health, 314; - C. suggests his removing to London, 315; - George Dyer's article on, 317 and note; - _The Devil's Thoughts_, written in collaboration with C., 318; - 320 n.; - thinks of going abroad for his health, 326, 329, 360, 361; - an advocate of the establishment of Protestant orders of Sisters of - Mercy, 327 n.; - proposes the establishment of a magazine with signed articles, 328 n.; - extract from a letter to C. on the condition of France, 329 n.; - C. begs him to make his home at Greta Hall, 354-356, 362, 391, 392, - 394, 395; - 367, 379 n.; - his proposed history of Portugal, 387, 388, 423; - secretary to the Chancellor of the Exchequer for Ireland for a short - time, 390 and note; - birth of his first child, Margaret, 394 n., 395 n.; - his admiration of Bowles and its effect on his poems, 396; - 400 n.; - his prose style, 423; - his proposed bibliographical work, 428-430; - makes a visit to Greta Hall which proves permanent, 435; - death of his little daughter, Margaret, 435 and note, 437; - his first impressions of Edinburgh, 438 n.; - 442; - on Hartley and Derwent Coleridge, 443; - 460, 463, 468, 484, 488 n.; - poverty, 490; - his _Wat Tyler_, 507 n.; - declines an offer from Scott to secure him a place on the staff of the - _Edinburgh Review_, 521 and note; - 542 n.; - extract from a letter to J. N. White, 545 n.; - on the mumps, 545 n.; - 546; - birth of his daughter Bertha, 546, 547 and note; - 548; - corrects proofs of _The Friend_, 551 and note; - 575; - C.'s love and esteem for, 578; - his family in 1812, 578; - C.'s estimate of, 581; - on the authorship of _The Doctor_, 583 n., 584 n.; - 585; - C. states his side of the quarrel with Wordsworth in conversation - with, 592; - 604, 609 n., 615, 617 n.; - writes of his friend John Kenyon, 639 n.; - his protection of C.'s family, 657; - C.'s letter introducing Mr. Ludwig Tieck, 670; - his _Curse of Kehama_, 684; - 694, 718, 724; - his _Book of the Church_, 724; - 726; - his acquaintance with George Dyer, 748 n.; - letters from C., 72-101, 106-121, 125, 134, 137, 221, 251 n., 303, - 307-332, 354-361, 365, 384, 393, 415, 422-430, 434, 437, 464, - 469, 487, 520, 554, 597, 605, 670; - letter to Miss Sarah Fricker, 107 n. - See _Annual Anthology_, the, edited by Southey. - - _Southey, Robert, Life and Correspondence of_, by Rev. Charles Cuthbert - Southey, 108 n., 308 n., 309 n., 327 n., 329 n., 384 n., 395 n., - 400 n., 425 n., 488 n., 521 n., 584 n., 736 n., 748 n. - - _Southey, Robert, Selections from Letters of_, 305 n., 438 n., 447 n., - 543 n., 545 n., 583 n., 584 n., 736 n. - - _Southey, Robert, of Balliol College, Bath, Poems by Robert Lovell and_, - 107 n. - - Southey, Mrs. Robert (Edith Fricker), Southey's sonnet to, 127 and note; - 384, 385, 390-392; - birth of her first child, Margaret, 394 n., 395 n.; - 484; - birth of her daughter Bertha, 546, 547 and note; - 592. - - Southey, Thomas, 108 n., 109 n., 147; - a midshipman on the Sylph at the time of her capture, 308 and note. - - South Molton, 5. - - _Spade of a Friend (an Agriculturist), To the_, by Wordsworth, in honor - of Thomas Wilkinson, 538 n. - - Spaniards, C.'s opinion of, 478. - - _Spaniards, Letters on the_, 629 and note. - - Sparrow, Mr., head-master of Newcome's Academy, 24, 25 n. - - _Specimens of the Later English Poets_, by Southey, 309 n. - - _Spectator_, Addison's, studied by C. in connection with _The Friend_, - 557, 558. - - Speedwell, the brig, 467; - on board, 469-481. - - Spenser, Edmund, his _View of the State of Ireland_, 638 and note; - quotation from, 694. - - Spillekins, 462, 468. - - Spinoza, Benedict, 632. - - _Spirit of Navigation and Discovery, The_, by William Lisle Bowles, 403 - and note. - - _Spiritual Philosophy, founded on the Teaching of S. T. Coleridge_, by - J. H. Green, with memoir of the author's life, by Sir John Simon, - 680 n. - - Spurzheim, Johann Kaspar, his life-mask and bust of C., 570 n. - - Stage, illusion of the, 663. - - _Stamford News_, 567 n. - - Stanger, Mrs. Joshua (Mary Calvert), 345 n. - - _Stanzas written in my Pocket Copy of Thomson's Castle of Indolence_, by - Wordsworth, 345 n. - - Steam vessels, 730 and note, 743. - - Steffens, Heinrich, 683. - - Steinburg, Baron, 279. - - Steinmetz, Adam, C.'s letter to his friend, John Peirse Kennard, after - his death, 762; - his character and amiable qualities, 763, 764, 775. - - Steinmetz, John Henry, 762 n. - - Stephen, Leslie, on C.'s study of Kant, 351 n. - - Stephens (Stevens), Launcelot Pepys, 25 and note. - - _Sterling, Life of_, by Carlyle, 771 n., 772 n. - - Sterling, John, his admiration for C., 771 n., 772 n.; - letter from C., 771. - - _Sternbald's Wanderungen_, by Ludwig Tieck, 683 and note. - - Stevens (Stephens), Launcelot Pepys, 25 and note. - - Stoddart, Dr. (afterwards Sir) John, 477 and note, 481, 508; - detains C.'s books and MSS., 523; - 524. - - Stoke House, C. visits the Wedgwoods at, 673 n. - - Storm, on a mountain-top, 339, 340; - with lightning in December, 365, 366; - on Scafell, 400 and note; - in Kirkstone Pass, 418-420. - - Stowey, _see_ Nether Stowey. - - Stowey Benefit Club, 233. - - Stowey Castle, 225 n. - - Street, Mr., editor of the _Courier_, 506, 533, 567, 568, 570, 616, 629, - 634; - his unsatisfactory conduct of the _Courier_, 661, 662. - - Strutt, Mr., 152, 153. - - Strutt, Edward (Lord Belper), 215 n. - - Strutt, Joseph, 215 n., 216, 367. - - Strutt, Mrs. Joseph, 216. - - Strutt, William, 215 and note. - - Stuart, Miss, a personal reminiscence of C. by, 705 n. - - Stuart, Daniel, proprietor and editor of the _Morning Post_ and - _Courier_, 311, 315; - engages C. for the _Morning Post_, 319, 320; - 321, 329; - engages lodgings in Covent Garden for C., 366 n.; - on C.'s dislike of Sir James Mackintosh, 454 n., 455 n.; - 458, 468, 474, 486 n., 507, 508, 519, 520, 542, 543 n.; - a friend of Dr. Henry Southey, 615 n.; - his steadiness and independence of character, 660; - his public services, 660; - his knowledge of men, 660; - letters from C., 475, 485, 493, 501, 505, 533, 545, 547, 566, 595, - 615, 627, 634, 660, 663, 740. - See _Courier_ and _Post, Morning_. - - Stutfield, Mr., amanuensis and disciple of C., 753 and note. - - Sugar, beet, 299 and note. - - _Sun, The_, 633. - - Sunset in the Lake Country, a, 384. - - Supernatural, C.'s essay on the, 684. - - Superstitions of the German bauers, 291, 292, 294. - - Suwarrow, Alexander Vasilievitch, 307 and note. - - Swedenborg, Emanuel, his _De Cultu et Amore Dei_, 684 n.; - his _De Coelo et Inferno_, 684 n.; - 688, 729, 730. - - Swedenborgianism, C. and, 684 n. - - Swift, Jonathan, his _Drapier_ Letters, 638 and note. - - Sylph, the gun-brig, capture of, 308 n. - - Sympathy, C.'s craving for, 696, 697. - - _Synesius_, by Canterus, 67 and note, 68. - - Syracuse, Sicily, 458; - C.'s visit to, 485 n., 486 n. - - - _Table Talk_, 81 n., 440 n., 624 n., 633 n., 684 n., 699 n., 756 n., - 763 n., 764 n. - - _Table Talk and Omniana_, 9 n., 554 n., 571 n., 718 n., 764 n. - - Tatum, 53, 54. - - Taunton, 220 n.; - C. preaches for Dr. Toulmin in, 247. - - Taxation, C.'s Essay on, 629 and note. - - Taxes, 757. - - Taylor, Sir Henry, his _Philip Van Artevelde_, 774 and note. - - Taylor, Jeremy, his _Dissuasion from Popery_, 639; - his _Letter on Original Sin_, 640; - a complete man, 640, 641. - - Taylor, Samuel, 9. - - Taylor, William, 310; - on double rhymes in English, 332; - 488, 489. - - Tea, 412, 413, 417. - - Temperance, suggestions as to the furtherance of the cause of, 767-769. - - _Temple, The_, by George Herbert, 694. - - Teneriffe, 414, 417. - - Terminology, C. wishes to form a better, 755. - - _Thalaba the Destroyer_, by Southey, 414; - C.'s advice as to publishing, 319; - 324, 357, 684. - - _The Hour when we shall meet again_, 157. - - Thelwall, John, his radicalism, 159, 160; - his criticisms of C.'s poetry, 163, 164, 194-197, 218; - on Burke, 166; - his _Peripatetic, or Sketches of the Heart, of Nature, and of - Society_, 166 and note; - his _Essay on Animal Vitality_, 179, 212; - his _Poems_, 179, 197; - his contemptuous attitude towards the Christian Religion, 198-205; - two odes by, 218; - C. criticises a poem and a so-called sonnet by, 230; - C. advises him not to settle at Stowey, 232-234; - letter to Dr. Crompton on the Wedgwood annuity, 234 n.; - extract from a letter from C. on the Wedgwood annuity, 235 n.; - letters from C., 159, 166, 178, 193, 210, 214, 228-232. - - Thelwall, Mrs. John (Stella, first wife of preceding), 181, 205, 206 n., - 207, 214. - - Theology, C.'s great interest in, 406; - C.'s projected great work on, 632 and note, 633. - - _Theory of Life_, 711 n. - - _The piteous sobs which choke the virgin's breast_, a sonnet by C., 206 - n. - - _This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison_, 225 and note, 226 and notes, 227, 228 - n. - - Thompson, James, 343 and note. - - Thornycroft, Hamo, R. A., 570 n.; - his bust of C., 695 n. - - _Thou gentle look, that didst my soul beguile_, see _O gentle look_, etc. - - _Though king-bred rage with lawless tumult rude_, a sonnet, 116 and note. - - Thought, a rule for the regulation of, 244, 245. - - _Three Graves, The_, 412 and note, 551, 606. - - Thunder-storm, in December, 365, 366; - on Scafell, 400 and note. - - Tieck, Ludwig, a letter of introduction from C. to Southey, 670; - two letters to C. from, 670 n.; - 671, 672, 680; - his _Sternbald's Wanderungen_, 663 and note; - 699. - - _Times, The_, 327 n.; - its notice of C.'s tragedy _Remorse_, 603 and note. - - _Tineum_, by C. Valentine Le Grice, 111 and note. - - Tiverton, 56. - - _To a Friend, together with an Unfinished Poem_, 128 n., 454 n. - - _To a friend who had declared his intention of writing no more poetry_, - 206 n. - - _To a Gentleman_, 647 n. - See _To William Wordsworth_. - - _To a Highland Girl_, by Wordsworth, 459. - - _To a Young Ass; its mother being tethered near it_, 119 and note, 120, - 606 and note. - - _To a Young Lady, with a Poem on the French Revolution_, 94 and note. - - _To a Young Man of Fortune who had abandoned himself to an indolent and - causeless melancholy_, 207 and note, 208 and note. - - Tobin, Mr., his habit of advising 474, 475. - - Tobin, James, 460 n. - - Tobin, John, 460 n. - - _To Bowles_, 111 and note. - - _To Disappointment_, 28. - - Tomalin, J., his _Shorthand Report of Lectures_, 11 n., 575 n. - - _To Matilda Betham. From a Stranger_, 404 n. - - Tomkins, Mr., 397, 402, 403. - - _To my own Heart_, 92 n. - - Tooke, Andrew, 455 n.; - his _Pantheon_, 455 and note. - - Tooke, Horne, 218. - - _To one who published in print what had been intrusted to him by my - fireside_, 252 n. - - Torbay, 305 n. - - _To R. B. Sheridan, Esq._, 116 n., 118. - - _To the Spade of a Friend (an Agriculturist)_, by Wordsworth, in honor - of Thomas Wilkinson, 538 n. - - Totness, 305. - - Toulmin, Rev. Dr., 220 n.; - tragic death of his daughter, 247, 248. - - _Tour in North Wales_, by J. Hucks, 74 n., 81 n. - - _Tour over the Brocken_, 257. - - _Tour through Parts of Wales_, by William Sotheby, 396. - - _To Valentine_, by Southey, 108 and note. - - Towers, 321. - - _To William Wordsworth_, 641, 644; - C. quotes from, 646, 647; - 647 n. - - Treaty of Vienna, 615 and note. - - Trossachs, the, 431, 432, 440. - - Tuckett, G. L., 57 n.; - letter from C., 57. - - Tulk, Charles Augustus, 684 n.; - letters from C., 684, 712. - - Turkey, 329. - - Turner, Sharon, 425 n., 593. - - _Two Founts, The_, 702 n. - - _Two Round Spaces on a Tombstone, The_, the hero of, 455. - - _Two Sisters, To_, 702 n. - - Tychsen, Olaus, 398 and note. - - Tyson, T., 393. - - - Ulpha Kirk, 393. - - Understanding, as distinguished from reason, 712, 713. - - Unitarianism, 415, 758, 759. - - Upcott, C. visits Josiah Wedgwood at, 308. - - Usk, the vale of, 410. - - - _Valentine, To_, by Southey, 108 and note. - - Valetta, Malta, C.'s visit to, 481-484, 487-497. - - Valette, General, 484; - given command of the Maltese Regiment, 554, 555. - - Vane, Sir Frederick, his library, 296. - - _Velvet Cushion, The_, by Rev. J. W. Cunningham, 651 and note. - - Vienna, Treaty of, 615 and note. - - Violin-teacher, C.'s, 49. - - Virgil's _Æneid_, Wordsworth's unfinished translation of, 733 and note, - 734. - - Virgil's _Georgics_, William Sotheby's translation, 375. - - _Visions of the Maid of Orleans, The_, 192, 206. - - Vital power, definition of, 712. - - Vogelstein, Karl Christian Vogel von, a letter of introduction from - Ludwig Tieck to C., 670 n. - - Von Axen, Messrs. P. and O., 269 n. - - Voss, Johann Heinrich, his _Luise_, 203 n., 625, 627; - his _Idylls_, 398. - - Voyage to Malta, C.'s, 469-481. - - - Wade, Josiah, 137 n., 145, 151 n., 152 n., 191, 288; - publication by Cottle of Coleridge's letter of June 26, 1814, to, 616 - n., 617 n.; - letters from C., 151, 623. - - Waithman, a politician, 598. - - Wakefield, Edward, his _Account of Ireland_, 638. - - Wales, proposed colony of pantisocrats in, 121, 122, 140, 141. - - _Wales, Tour through Parts of_, by William Sotheby, 396. - - Wales, North, C.'s tour of, 72-81. - - Wales, South, C.'s tour of, 410-414. - - Walford, John, Poole's narrative of, 553 and note. - - Walker, Thomas, 162. - - Walk into the country, a, 32, 33. - - _Wallenstein_, by Schiller, C.'s translation of, 403, 608. - - Wallis, Mr., 498-500, 523. - - Wallis, Mrs., 392. - - _Wanderer's Farewell to Two Sisters, The_, 722 n. - - Ward, C. A., 763 n. - - Ward, Thomas, 170 n. - - Wardle, Colonel, leads the attack on the Duke of York in the House of - Commons, 543 and note. - - Warren, Parson, 18. - - Wastdale, 393, 401. - - _Watchman, The_, 57 n.; - C.'s tour to procure subscribers for, 151 and note, 152-154; - 155-157; - discontinued, 158; - 174 n., 611. - - Watson, Mrs. Henry, 698 n., 702 n. - - _Wat Tyler_, by Southey, 506 n. - - Wedgwood, Josiah, 260, 261, 268, 269 n.; - visit from C. at Upcott, 308; - his temporary residence at Upcott, 308 n.; - 337 n., 350, 351 and note, 416 n.; - withdraws his half of the Wedgwood annuity from C., 602, 611 and note; - C.'s regard and love for, 611, 612. - - Wedgwood, Josiah and Thomas, settle on C. an annuity for life of £150, - 234 and note, 235 and note; - 269 n., 321. - - Wedgwood, Miss Sarah, 412, 416, 417. - - Wedgwood, Thomas, 323, 379 n.; - with C. in South Wales, 412, 413; - his fine and subtle mind, 412; - proposes to pass the winter in Italy with C., 413, 414, 418; - 415, 416; - a genuine philosopher, 448, 449; - C.'s gratitude towards, 451; - 456 n., 493; - C.'s love for, mingled with fear, 612; - letter from C., 417. - - Welles, A., 462. - - Wellesley, Marquis of, 674. - - Welsh clergyman, a, 79, 80. - - Wensley, Miss, an actress, and her father, 704. - - Wernigerode Inn, 298 n. - - West, Mr., 633. - - Whitbread, Samuel, 598. - - White, Blanco, 741, 744. - - White, J. N., extract from a letter from Southey, 545 n. - - White Water Dash, 375 and note, 376 n. - - Wilberforce, William, 535. - - Wilkie, Sir David, his portraits of Hartley C., 511 n.; - his _Blind Fiddler_, 511 n. - - Wilkinson, Thomas, 538 n.; - letter from C., 538. - - Will, lunacy or idiocy of the, 768. - - Williams, Edward (Iolo Morgangw), 162 and note. - - Williams, John ("Antony Pasquin"), 603 n. - - Wilson, Mrs., housekeeper for Mr. Jackson of Greta Hall, 461 and note, - 491; - Hartley C.'s attachment for, 510. - - Wilson, Professor, 756. - - Windy Brow, 346. - - _Wish written in Jesus Wood, February 10, 1792, A_, 35. - - _With passive joy the moment I survey_, an anonymous sonnet, 177, 178. - - _With wayworn feet, a pilgrim woe-begone_, a sonnet by Southey, 127 and - note. - - Wolf, Freiherr Johann Christian von, 735. - - Wollstonecraft, Mary, 316, 318 n., 321. - - Woodlands, 271. - - Woolman, John, 540. - - _Woolman, John, the Journal of_, 4 and note. - - Worcester, 154. - - Wordsworth, Catherine, 563. - - Wordsworth, Rev. Christopher, D. D., 225 n.; - Charles Lloyd reads Greek with, 311. - - Wordsworth, Rev. Christopher, M. A., his _Social Life at the English - Universities in the Eighteenth Century_, 225 n. - - Wordsworth, Rt. Rev. Christopher, D. D., his _Memoirs of William - Wordsworth_, 432 n., 585 n. - - Wordsworth, Dorothy, 10 n.; - C.'s description of, 218 n.; - visits C. with her brother, 224-227; - 228, 231, 245 n., 249; - goes to Germany with William Wordsworth, Coleridge, and John Chester, - 259; - with her brother at Goslar, 272, 273; - returns with him to England, 288, 296; - 311 n., 346, 367, 373, 385; - accompanies her brother and C. on a tour in Scotland, 431, 432 and - note; - 577, 599 n. - - Wordsworth, John, son of William W., 545. - - Wordsworth, Captain John, and the effect of his death on C.'s spirits, - 494 and note, 495 and note, 497. - - Wordsworth, Thomas, death of, 599 n.; - C.'s love of, 600. - - Wordsworth, William, 10 n., 163 and note, 164 and note, 218 n.; - visit from C. at Racedown, 220 and note, 221; - greatness of, 221, 224; - settles at Alfoxden, near Stowey, 224; - at C.'s cottage, 224-227; - C. visits him at Alfoxden, 227; - 228, 231, 232; - suspected of conspiracy against the government, 232 n., 233; - memoranda scribbled on the outside sheet of a letter from C., 238 n.; - his greatness and amiability, 239; - his _Excursion_, 244 n., 337 n., 585 n., 641, 642, 645-650; - 245; - C.'s admiration for, 246; - 250 n.; - accompanies C. to Germany, 259; - 268, 269 n.; - considers settling near the Lakes, 270; - 271; - at Goslar with his sister, 272, 273; - an _Epitaph_ by, 284; - returns to England, 288, 296; - wishes C. to live near him in the North of England, 296; - his grief at C.'s refusal, 296, 297; - 304, 313; - his and C.'s _Lyrical Ballads_, 336, 337, 341, 350 and note, 387; - his admiration for _Christabel_, 337; - 338, 342; - proposal from William Calvert in regard to sharing his house and - studying chemistry with him, 345, 346; - his _Stanzas written in my Pocket Copy of Thomson's Castle of - Indolence_, 345 n.; - 348, 350; - marries Miss Mary Hutchinson, 359 n.; - 363, 367, 370, 373; - his opinion of poetic license, 373-375; - C. addresses his _Ode to Dejection_ to, 378 and note, 379 and note, - 380-384; - 385-387; - his _Ruth_, 387; - 400, 418, 428; - with C. on a Scotch tour, 431-434; - his _Peter Bell_, 432 and note; - 441, 443; - receives a visit at Grasmere from C., who is taken ill there, 447; - his hypochondria, 448; - his happiness and philosophy, 449, 450; - a most original poet, 450; - 451; - his _To a Highland Girl_, 459; - 464, 468; - his reference to C. in _The Prelude_, 386 n.; - 452; - his _Brothers_, 494 n., 609 n.; - his _Happy Warrior_, 494 n.; - extract from a letter to Sir George Beaumont on John Wordsworth's - death, 494 n.; - 511 and note, 522; - his essays on the Convention of Cintra, 534 and note, 543 and note, - 548-550; - 535; - his _To the Spade of a Friend_, 558 n.; - 543 and note, 546, 522, 553 n., 556; - C.'s misunderstanding with, 576 n., 577, 578, 586-588, 612; - his _Essays upon Epitaphs_, 585 and note; - a long-delayed explanation from C., 588-595; - reconciled with C., 596, 597, 599, 612; - death of his son Thomas, 599 n.; - second rupture with C., 599 n., 600 n.; - his projected poem, _The Recluse_, 646, 647 and note, 648-650; - 678; - on William Blake as a poet, 686 n.; - his unfinished translation of the _Æneid_, 733 and note, 734; - felicities and unforgettable lines and stanzas in his poems, 734; - influence of the _Edinburgh Review_ on the sale of his works in - Scotland, 741, 742; - 759 n.; - letters from C., 234, 588, 596, 599, 643, 733. - - _Wordsworth, William, Life of_, by Rev. William Angus Knight, LL. D., - 164 n., 220 n., 447 n., 585 n., 591 n., 596 n., 599 n., 600 n., - 733 n., 759 n. - - _Wordsworth, William, Memoirs of_, by Christopher Wordsworth, 432 n., - 550 n., 585 n. - - _Wordsworth, William, To_, 641, 644; - C. quotes from, 646, 647; - 647 n. - - Wordsworth, Mrs. William, extract from a letter to Sara Coleridge, 220; - 525. - _See_ Hutchinson, Mary. - - Wordsworths, the, visit from C. and his son Hartley at Coleorton - Farmhouse, 509-514; - 545; - letter from C., 456. - - Wrangham, Francis, 363 and note. - - Wrexham, 77, 78. - - Wright, Joseph, A. R. A. (Wright of Derby), 152 and note. - - Wright, W. Aldis, 174 n. - - Wynne, Mr., an old friend of Southey's, 639 n. - - Wyville's proofs of C.'s portrait, 770. - - - Yarmouth, 258, 259. - - Yates, Miss, 39. - - Yews near Brecon, 411. - - York, Duke of, 543 n., 555 n., 567 and note. - - Young, Edward, 404. - - _Youth and Age_, 730 n. - - - _Zapolya: A Christmas Tale, in two Parts_, its publication in book form - after rejection by the Drury Lane Committee, 666 and note, 667-669. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] Richard Sharp, 1759-1835, known as "Conversation Sharp," a banker, -Member of Parliament, and distinguished critic. He was a friend of -Wordsworth's, and on intimate terms with Coleridge and Southey. _Life of -W. Wordsworth_, i. 377; _Letters of R. Southey_, i. 279, _et passim_. - -[2] Jean Victor Moreau, 1763-1813. The "retreat" took place in October, -1796, after his defeat of the Archduke Charles at Neresheim, in the -preceding August. _Biographical Dictionary._ - -[3] This phrase reappears in the first issue (1808) of the Prospectus of -_The Friend_. Jeffrey, to whom the Prospectus was submitted, objected to -the wording, and it was changed, in the first instance, to "mental gloom" -and finally to "dejection of mind." See letter to F. Jeffrey, December 14, -1808, published in the _Illustrated London News_, June 10, 1893. Letter -CLXXI. - -[4] See concluding paragraph of Introductory Address of _Conciones ad -Populum_ (February, 1795); _The Friend_, Section I., Essay xvi.; -_Coleridge's Works_, 1853, ii. 307. For recantation of Necessitarianism, -see footnote (1797) to lines "To a Friend, together with an Unfinished -Poem." _Poetical Works_, p. 38. - -[5] Stuart is responsible for a story that Coleridge's dislike and -distrust of the "fellow from Aberdeen," the hero of _The Two Round Spaces -on a Tombstone_, dated from a visit to the Wedgwoods at Cote House, when -Mackintosh outtalked and outshone his fellow _protégé_, and drove him in -dudgeon from the party. But in 1838, when he contributed his articles to -the _Gentleman's Magazine_, Stuart had forgotten much and looked at all -things from a different point of view. For instance, he says that the -verses attacking Mackintosh were never published, whereas they appeared in -the _Morning Post_ of December 4, 1800. A more probable explanation is -that Stuart, who was not on good terms with his brother-in-law, was in the -habit of confiding his grievances, and that Coleridge, _more suo_, -espoused his friend's cause with unnecessary vehemence. _Gentleman's -Magazine_, May, 1838, p. 485. - -[6] _The Pantheon._ By Andrew Tooke. Revised, etc., for the use of -schools. London: 1791. - -"Tooke was a prodigious favourite with us (at Christ's Hospital). I see -before me, as vividly now as ever, his Mars and Apollo, his Venus and -Aurora--the Mars coming on furiously in his car; Apollo, with his radiant -head, in the midst of shades and fountains; Aurora with hers, a golden -dawn; and Venus, very handsome, we thought, and not looking too modest in -'a slight cymar.'" _Autobiography of Leigh Hunt_, p. 75. - -[7] See note _infra_. - -[8] George Rose, 1744-1818, statesman and political writer. He had -recently brought in a bill which "authorised the sending to all the Parish -Overseers in the country a paper of questions on the condition of the -poor." Poole, at the instance of John Rickman, secretary to Speaker Abbot, -was at this time engaged at Westminster in drawing up an abstract of the -various returns which had been made in accordance with Sir George Rose's -bill. See Letter from T. Poole to T. Wedgwood, dated September 14, 1803. -Cottle's _Reminiscences_, pp. 477, 478; _Thomas Poole and his Friends_, -ii. 107-114. - -[9] See Letter to Southey of February 20, 1804. Letter CXLIX. - -[10] John Dalton, 1766-1844, chemist and meteorologist. He published his -researches on the atomic theory, which he had begun in 1803, in his _New -System of Chemical Philosophy_, in 1808. _Biographical Dictionary._ - -[11] His old fellow-student at Göttingen. - -[12] - - "O for a single hour of that Dundee, - Who on that day the word of onset gave." - -"In the Pass of Killicranky." Wordsworth's _Poetical Works_, 1889, p. 201. - -[13] John Tobin the dramatist (or possibly his brother James), with whom -Coleridge spent the last weeks of his stay in London, before he left for -Portsmouth on the 27th of March, on his way to Malta. - -[14] The misspelling, which was intentional, was an intimation to Lamb -that the letter was not to be opened. - -[15] A retired carrier, the owner of Greta Hall, who occupied "the smaller -of the two houses inter-connected under one roof." He was godfather to -Hartley Coleridge, and left him a legacy of fifty pounds. Mrs. Wilson, the -"Wilsy" of Hartley's childhood, was Jackson's housekeeper. _Memoir and -Letters of Sara Coleridge_, 1873, i. 13. - -[16] Coleridge had already attended Davy's Lectures at the Royal -Institution in 1802, and, possibly, in 1803. It is probable that allusions -in his correspondence to Davy's Lectures gave rise to the mistaken -supposition that he delivered public lectures in London before 1808. - -[17] - - "He said, and, gliding like a snake, - Where Caradoc lay sleeping made his way. - Sweetly slept he, and pleasant were his dreams - Of Britain, and the blue-eyed maid he loved. - The Azteca stood over him; he knew - His victim, and the power of vengeance gave - Malignant joy. 'Once hast thou 'scaped my arm: - But what shall save thee now?' the Tyger thought, - Exulting; and he raised his spear to strike. - That instant, o'er the Briton's unseen harp - The gale of morning past, and swept its strings - Into so sweet a harmony, that sure - It seem'd no earthly tone. The savage man - Suspends his stroke; he looks astonished round; - No human hand is near: ... and hark! again - The aërial music swells and dies away. - Then first the heart of Tlalala felt fear: - He thought that some protecting spirit watch'd - Beside the Stranger, and, abash'd, withdrew." - -"Madoc in Aztlan," Book XI. Southey's _Poetical Works_, 1838, v. 274, 275. - -[18] Mrs. E. Fenwick, author of _Secrecy_, a novel (1799); a friend of -Godwin's first wife, Mary Wollstonecraft. _William Godwin_, by C. Kegan -Paul, i. 282, 283. See, also, Lamb's _Letters_ (ed. Ainger), i. 331; and -Lamb's essays, "Two Races of Men," and "Newspapers Thirty-five Years ago." - -[19] Lamb's "bad baby"--"a disgusting woman who wears green spectacles." -_Letters_, _passim_. - -[20] Afterwards Sir John Stoddart, Chief Justice of Malta, 1826-39. - -[21] A note dated "Treasury, July 20th, 1805," gives vent to his feelings -on this point. "Saturday morning 1/2 past nine o'clock, and soon I shall -have to brace up my hearing _in toto_, (for I hear in my brain--I hear, -that is, I have an immediate and _peculiar_ feeling instantly co-adunated -with the sense of external sound = (exactly) to that which is experienced -when one makes a wry face, and putting one's right hand palm-wise to the -right ear, and the left palm pressing hard on the forehead, one says to a -bawler, 'For mercy's sake, man! don't split the drum of one's -ear'--sensations analogous to this of various degrees of pain, even to a -strange sort of uneasy pleasure. I am obnoxious to pure sound and -therefore was saying--[N. B. Tho' I ramble, I always come back to -sense--the sense alive, tho' sometimes a limb of syntax broken]--was -saying that I hear in my brain, and still more hear in my stomach). For -this ubiquity, almost (for I might safely add my toes--one or two, at -least--and my knees) for this ubiquity of the _Tympanum auditorium_ I am -now to wind up my courage, for in a few seconds that accursed Reveille, -the horrible crash and persevering malignant torture of the -_Pare-de-Drum_, will attack me, like a party of yelling, drunken North -American Indians attacking a crazy fort with a tired garrison, out of an -ambush. The noisiness of the Maltese everybody must notice; but I have -observed uniformly among them such utter impassiveness to the action of -sounds as that I am fearful that the _verum_ will be scarcely -_verisimile_. I have heard screams of the most frightful kind, as of -children run over by a cart, and running to the window I have seen two -children in a parlour opposite to me (naked, except a kerchief tied round -the waist) screaming in their horrid fiendiness--for _fun_! three adults -in the room perfectly unannoyed, and this suffered to continue for twenty -minutes, or as long as their lungs enabled them. But it goes thro' -everything, their street-cries, their priests, their advocates, their very -pigs yell rather than squeak, or both together, rather, as if they were -the true descendants of some half-dozen of the swine into which the Devils -went, recovered by the Royal Humane Society. The dogs all night long would -draw curses on them, but that the Maltese cats--it surpasses description, -for he who has only heard caterwauling on English roofs can have no idea -of a cat-serenade in Malta. In England it has often a close and painful -resemblance to the distressful cries of young children, but in Malta it is -identical with the wide range of screams uttered by imps while they are -dragging each other into hotter and still hotter pools of brimstone and -fire. It is the discord of Torment and of Rage and of Hate, of paroxysms -of Revenge, and _every_ note grumbles away into Despair." - -[22] The first Sicilian tour extended from the middle of August to the 7th -of November, 1804. Two or three days, August 19-21, were spent in the -neighbourhood of Etna. He slept at Nicolosi and visited the Hospice of St. -Nicola dell' Arena. It is unlikely that he reached the actual summit, but -two ascents were made, probably to the limit of the wooded region. A few -days later, August 24, he reached Syracuse, where he was hospitably -entertained by H. M. Consul G. F. Lecky. The notes which he took of his -visit to Etna are fragmentary and imperfect, but the description of -Syracuse and its surroundings occupies many pages of his note-book. Under -the heading, "Timoleon's, Oct. 18, 1804, Wednesday, noon," he writes: "The -Gaza and Tree at Tremiglia. Rocks with cactus, pendulous branches, -seed-pods black at the same time with the orange-yellow flower, and little -daisy-like tufts of silky hair.... Timoleon's villa, supposed to be in the -field _above_ the present house, from which you ascend _to_ fifty stairs. -Grand view of the harbour and sea, over that tongue of land which forms -the anti-Ortygian embracing arm of the harbour, the point of Plemmyrium -where Alcibiades and Nicias landed. I left the aqueduct and walked -ascendingly to some ruined cottages, beside a delve, with straight -limestone walls of rock, on which there played the shadows of the fig-tree -and the olive. I was on part of Epipolæ, and a glorious view indeed! -Before me a neck of stony common and fields--Ortygia, the open sea and the -ships, and the circular harbour which it embraces, and the sea over that -again. To my right that large extent of plain, green, rich, finely wooded; -the fields so divided and enclosed that you, as it were, _knew_ at the -first view that they are all hedged and enclosed, and yet no hedges nor -enclosings obtrude themselves--an effect of the vast number of trees of -the same sort. On my left, stony fields, two harbours, Magnisi and its -sand isle, and Augusta, and Etna, whose smoke mingles with the clouds even -as they rise from the crater.... Still as I walk the _lizard gliding -darts_ along the road, and immerges himself under a stone, and the -grasshopper leaps and tumbles awkwardly before me." - -It must have been in anticipation of this visit to Sicily, or after some -communication with Coleridge, that Wordsworth, after alluding to his -friend's abode,-- - - "Where Etna over hill and valley casts - His shadow stretching towards Syracuse, - The city of Timoleon," - -gives utterance to that unusual outburst of feeling:-- - - "Oh! wrap him in your shades, ye giant woods, - On Etna's side; and thou, O flowery field - Of Enna! is there not some nook of thine, - From the first play-time of the infant world - Kept sacred to restorative delight, - When from afar invoked by anxious love?" - -Wordsworth's _Poetical Works_, 1889, "The Prelude," Book XI. p. 319. - -[23] A short treatise entitled _Observations on Egypt_, which is extant in -MS., may have been among the papers sent to Stuart with a view to -publication. - -[24] Shakespeare, _Richard III._, Act I. Scene 4. - -[25] He had, perhaps, something more than a suspicion that Southey -disliked these protestations. In the letter of friendly remonstrance -(February, 1804), which Southey wrote to him after the affair with Godwin, -he admits that he may be "too intolerant of these phrases," but, indeed, -he adds, "when they are true, they may be excused, and when they are not, -there is no excuse for them." _Life and Correspondence_, ii. 266. - -[26] Cynocephalus, Dog-visaged. Compare Milton's "Hymn on the Nativity:"-- - - "The brutish gods of Nile as fast, - Isis and Orus and the dog Anubis haste." - -[27] A printed slip, cut off from some public document, has been preserved -in one of Coleridge's note-books. It runs thus: "Segreteria del Governo li -29 Gennajo 1805. Samuel T. Coleridge Seg. Pub. del. Commis. Regio. G. N. -Zammit Pro segretario." His actual period of office extended from January -18 to September 6, 1805. - -[28] John Wordsworth, the poet's younger brother, the original of Leonard -in "The Brothers," and of "The Happy Warrior," was drowned off the Bill of -Portland, February 5, 1805. In a letter to Sir G. Beaumont, dated February -11, 1805, Wordsworth writes: "I can say nothing higher of my ever-dear -brother than that he was worthy of his sister, who is now weeping beside -me, and of the friendship of Coleridge; meek, affectionate, silently -enthusiastic, loving all quiet things, and a poet in everything but -words." "We have had no tidings of Coleridge. I tremble for the moment -when he is to hear of my brother's death; it will distress him to the -heart, and his poor body cannot bear sorrow. He loved my brother, and he -knows how we at Grasmere loved him." The report of the wreck of the Earl -of Abergavenny and of the loss of her captain did not reach Malta till the -31st of March. It was a Sunday, and Coleridge, who had been sent for to -the Palace, first heard the news from Lady Ball. His emotion at the time, -and, perhaps, a petition to be excused from his duties brought from her -the next day "a kindly letter of apology." "Your strong feelings," she -writes, "are too great for your health. I hope that you will soon recover -your spirits." But Coleridge took the trouble to heart. It was the first -death in the inner circle of his friends; it meant a heavy sorrow to those -whom he best loved, and it seemed to confirm the haunting presentiment -that death would once more visit his family during his absence from home. -Ten days later he writes (in a note-book): "O dear John Wordsworth! What -joy at Grasmere that you were made Captain of the Abergavenny! now it was -next to certain that you would in a few years settle in your native hills, -and be verily one of the _concern_. Then came your share in the brilliant -action at Linois. I was at Grasmere in spirit only! but in spirit I was -one of the rejoicers ... and all these were but decoys of death! Well, but -a nobler feeling than these vain regrets would become the friend of the -man whose last words were, 'I have done my duty! let her go!' Let us do -our duty; all else is a dream--life and death alike a dream! This short -sentence would comprise, I believe, the sum of all profound philosophy, of -ethics and metaphysics, and conjointly from Plato to Fichte. S. T. C." - -[29] An island midway between Malta and Tunis, ceded by Naples to Don -Fernandez in 1802. - -[30] A description of the cottage at Stowey and its inmates, contained in -a letter written by Mr. Richard Reynell (in August, 1797) to his sister at -Thorveston, was published in the _Illustrated London News_, April 22, -1893. - -[31] Coleridge left Rome with his friend Mr. Russell on Sunday, May 18, -1806. He had received, so he tells us in the _Biographia Literaria_, a -secret warning from the Pope that Napoleon, whose animosity had been -roused by articles in the _Morning Post_, had ordered his arrest. A -similar statement is made in a footnote to a title-page of a proposed -reprint of newspaper articles (an anticipation of _Essays on His Own -Times_), which was drawn up in 1817. "My essays," he writes, "in the -_Morning Post_, during the peace of Amiens, brought my life into jeopardy -when I was at Rome. An order for my arrest came from Paris to Rome at -twelve at night--by the Pope's goodness I was off by one--and the arrest -of all the English took place at six." In a letter to his brother George, -which he wrote about six months after he returned to England, he says that -he was warned to leave Rome, but does not enter into particulars. It is a -well-known fact that Napoleon read the leading articles in the _Morning -Post_, and deeply resented their tone and spirit, but whether Coleridge -was rightly informed that an order for his arrest had come from Paris, or -whether he was warned that, if with other Englishmen he should be -arrested, his connection with the _Morning Post_ would come to light, must -remain doubtful. Coleridge's _Works_, 1853, iii. 309. - -[32] An entry in a note-book, dated June 7, 1806, expresses this at -greater length: "O my children! whether, and which of you are dead, -whether any and which among you are alive I know not, and were a letter to -arrive this moment from Keswick I fear that I should be unable to open it, -so deep and black is my despair. O my children! My children! I gave you -life once, unconscious of the life I was giving, and you as unconsciously -have given life to me." A fortnight later, he ends a similar outburst of -despair with a cry for deliverance:-- - - Come, come thou bleak December wind, - And blow the dry leaves from the tree! - Flash, like a love-thought thro' me, Death! - And take a life that wearies me. - -[33] It is difficult to trace his movements during his last week in Italy. -He reached Leghorn on Saturday, June 7. Thence he made his way to Florence -and returned to Pisa on a Thursday, probably Thursday, June 19, the date -of this letter. On Sunday, June 22, he was still at Pisa, but, I take it, -on the eve of setting sail for England. Fifty-five days later, August 17, -he leaped on shore at Stangate Creek. His account of Pisa is highly -characteristic. "Of the hanging Tower," he writes, "the Duomo, the -Cemetery, the Baptistery, I shall say nothing, except that being all -together they form a wild mass, especially by moonlight, when the hanging -Tower has something of a supernatural look; but what interested me with a -deeper interest were the two hospitals, one for men, one for women," etc., -and these he proceeds to describe. Nevertheless he must have paid more -attention to the treasures of Pisan art than his note implies, for many -years after in a Lecture on the History of Philosophy, delivered January -19, 1819, he describes minutely and vividly the "Triumph of Death," the -great fresco in the Campo Santo at Pisa, which was formerly assigned to -Oreagna, but is now, I believe, attributed to Ambrogio and Pietro -Lorenzetti. _MS. Journal_; _MS. Report of Lecture_. - -[34] Mr. Russell was an artist, an Exeter man, whom Coleridge met in Rome. -They were fellow-travellers in Italy, and returned together to England. - -[35] William Smith, M. P. for Norwich, who lived at Parndon House, near -Harlow, in Essex. It was in a great measure through his advice and -interest that Coleridge obtained his Lectureship at the Royal Institution. -Ten years later (1817), on the occasion of the surreptitious publication -of _Wat Tyler_, Mr. Smith, who was a staunch liberal, denounced the -Laureate as a "renegade," and Coleridge with something of his old vigour -gave battle on behalf of his brother-in-law in the pages of _The Courier_. -_Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 939-950. - -[36] Charles James Fox died on September 13, 1806. - -[37] An unpublished letter from Sir Alexander Ball to His Excellency H. -Elliot, Esq. (Minister at the Court of Naples), strongly recommends -Coleridge to his favourable notice and consideration. Nothing that -Coleridge ever said in favour of "Ball" exceeds what Sir Alexander says of -Coleridge, but the Minister, whose hands must have been pretty full at the -time, failed to be impressed, and withheld his patronage. - -[38] "The Foster-Mother's Tale," _Poetical Works_, 1893, p. 83. - -[39] Hartley Coleridge, now in his eleventh year, was under his father's -sole care from the end of December, 1806, to May, 1807. The first three -months were spent in the farmhouse near Coleorton, which Sir G. Beaumont -had lent to the Wordsworths, and it must have been when that visit was -drawing to a close that this letter was written for Hartley's benefit. The -remaining five or six weeks were passed in the company of the Wordsworths -at Basil Montagu's house in London. Then it was that Hartley saw his first -play, and was taken by Wordsworth and Walter Scott to the Tower. "The -bard's economy," says Hartley, "would not allow us to visit the Jewel -Office, but Mr. Scott, then no _anactolater_, took an evident pride in -showing me the claymores and bucklers taken from the Loyalists at -Culloden." Whilst he was at Coleorton, Hartley was painted by Sir David -Wilkie. It is the portrait of a child "whose fancies from afar are -brought," but the Hartley of this letter is better represented by the -grimacing boy in Wilkie's "Blind Fiddler," for which, I have been told, he -sat as a model. _Poems of Hartley Coleridge_, 1851, i. ccxxii. - -[40] Scott had proposed to Southey that he should use his influence with -Jeffrey to get him placed on the staff of the _Edinburgh Review_. Southey -declined the offer alike on the score of political divergence from the -editor, and disapproval of "that sort of bitterness [in criticism] which -tends directly to wound a man in his feelings, and injure him in his fame -and fortune." _Life and Correspondence_, iii. 124-128. See, too, -Lockhart's _Life of Sir Walter Scott_, 1837, ii. 130. - -[41] Sir John Acland. The property is now in the possession of a -descendant in the female line, Sir Alexander Hood, of Fairfield, -Dodington. - -[42] To receive him and his family at Ottery as had been originally -proposed. George Coleridge disapproved of his brother's intended -separation from his wife, and declined to countenance it in any way -whatever. - -[43] _Faulkner: a Tragedy_, 1807-1808, 8vo. - -[44] I presume that the reference is to the _Conciones ad Populum_, -published at Bristol, November 16, 1795. - -[45] Coleridge's article on Clarkson's _History of the Abolition of the -Slave Trade_ was published in the _Edinburgh Review_, July, 1808. It has -never been reprinted. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, by J. Dykes Campbell, -London, 1894, p. 168; _Letters from the Lake Poets_, p. 180; Allsop's -_Letters_, 1836, ii. 112. - -[46] Of this pamphlet or the translation of Palm's _Deutschland in seiner -tiefsten Erniedrigung_, I know nothing. The author, John Philip Palm, a -Nuremberg bookseller, was shot August 26, 1806, in consequence of the -publication of the work, which reflected unfavorably on the conduct and -career of Napoleon. - -[47] Compare his letter to Poole, dated December 4, 1808. "Begin to count -my life, as a friend of yours, from 1st January, 1809;" and a letter to -Davy, of December, 1808, in which he speaks of a change for the better in -health and habits. _Thomas Poole and his Friends_, ii. 227; _Fragmentary -Remains of Sir H. Davy_, p. 101. - -[48] The Convention of Cintra was signed August 30, 1808. Wordsworth's -Essays were begun in the following November. "For the sake of immediate -and general circulation I determined (when I had made a considerable -progress in the manuscript) to print it in different portions in one of -the daily newspapers. Accordingly two portions of it were printed, in the -months of December and January, in the _Courier_. An accidental loss of -several sheets of the manuscript delayed the continuance of the -publication in that manner till the close of the Christmas holidays; and -this plan of publication was given up." _Advertisement to Wordsworth's -pamphlet on the Convention of Cintra_, May 20, 1809: _Letters from the -Lake Poets_, p. 385. - -[49] "In the place of some just eulogiums due to Mr. Pitt was substituted -some abuse and detraction." Allsop's _Letters_, 1836, ii. 112. - -[50] A preliminary prospectus of _The Friend_ was printed at Kendal and -submitted to Jeffrey and a few others. A copy of this "first edition" is -in my possession, and it is interesting to notice that Coleridge has -directed his amanuensis, Miss Hutchinson, to amend certain offending -phrases in accordance with Jeffrey's suggestions. "Speculative gloom" and -"year-long absences" he gives up, but, as the postscript intimates, "moral -impulses" he has the hardihood to retain. See _The Friend's Quarterly -Examiner_ for July, 1893, art. "S. T. Coleridge on Quaker Principles;" and -_Athenæum_ for September 16, 1893, art. "Coleridge on Quaker Principles." - -[51] Thomas Wilkinson, of Yanwath, near Penrith, was a member of the -Society of Friends. He owned and tilled a small estate on the banks of the -Emont, which he laid out and ornamented "after the manner of Shenstone at -his Leasowes." As a friend and neighbour of the Clarksons and of Lord -Lonsdale he was well known to Wordsworth, who, greatly daring, wrote in -his honour his lines "To the Spade of a Friend (an Agriculturist)." - -Alas! for the poor Prospectus! "Speculative gloom" and "year-long absence" -had been sacrificed to Jeffrey, and now "Architecture, Dress, Dancing, -Gardening, Music, Poetry, and Painting" were erased in obedience to -Wilkinson. Most of these articles, however, "Architecture, Dress," etc., -reappeared in a second edition of the Prospectus, attached to the second -number of _The Friend_, but Dancing, "Greek statuesque dancing," on which -Coleridge might have discoursed at some length, was gone forever. -Wordsworth's _Works_, p. 211 (Fenwick Note); _The Friend's Quarterly -Examiner_, July, 1893; _Records of a Quaker Family_, by Anne Ogden Boyce, -London, 1889, pp. 30, 31, 55. - -[52] The original draft of the prospectus of _The Friend_, which was -issued in the late autumn of 1808, was printed at Kendal by W. Pennington. -Certain alterations were suggested by Jeffrey and others (Southey in a -letter to Rickman dated January 18, 1809, complains that Coleridge had -"carried a prospectus wet from the pen to the publisher, without -consulting anybody"), and a fresh batch of prospectuses was printed in -London. A third variant attached to the first number of the weekly issue, -June 1, 1809, was printed by Brown, a bookseller and stationer at Penrith, -who, on Mr. Pennington's refusal, undertook to print and publish _The -Friend_. Some curious letters which passed between Coleridge and his -printer, together with the MS. of _The Friend_, in the handwriting of Miss -Sarah Hutchinson, are preserved in the Forster Library at the South -Kensington Museum. _Letters from the Lake Poets_, pp. 85-188; _Selections -from the Letters of R. Southey_, ii. 120. - -[53] Compare letters to Stuart (December), 1808. "You will long ere this -have received Wordsworth's second Essay, etc., rewritten by me, and in -some parts recomposed." _Letters from the Lake Poets_, p. 101. - -[54] Colonel Wardle, who led the attack in the House of Commons against -the Duke of York, with regard to the undue influence in military -appointments of the notorious Mrs. Clarke. - -[55] Coleridge's friendship with Dr. Beddoes dated from 1795-96, and was -associated with his happier days. It is possible that the recent amendment -in health and spirits was due to advice and sympathy which he had met with -in response to a confession made in writing to his old Bristol friend. His -death, which took place on the 24th of December, 1808, would rob Coleridge -of a newly-found support, and would "take out of his life" the hope of -self-conquest. The letter implies that he had recently heard from or -conversed with Beddoes. - -[56] Compare letter from Southey to J. N. White dated April 21, 1809. "A -ridiculous disorder called the Mumps has nearly gone through the house, -and visited me on its way--a thing which puts one more out of humour than -out of health; but my neck has now regained its elasticity, and I have -left off the extra swathings which yesterday buried my chin, after the -fashion of fops a few years ago." _Selections from the Letters of R. -Southey_, ii, 135, 136. - -[57] The Parliamentary investigation of the charges and allegations with -regard to the military patronage of the Duke of York. - -[58] Bertha Southey, afterwards Mrs. Herbert Hill, was born March 27, -1809. - -[59] "The Appendix (to the pamphlet _On the Convention of Cintra_), a -portion of the work which Mr. Wordsworth regarded as executed in a -masterly manner, was drawn up by Mr. De Quincey, who revised the proofs of -the whole." _Memoirs of Wordsworth_, i. 384. - -[60] In Southey's copy of the reprint of the stamped sheets of _The -Friend_ the passage runs thus: "However this may be, the Understanding or -regulative faculty is manifestly distinct from Life and Sensation, its -_function_ being to take up the _passive affections_ of the sense into -distinct Thoughts and Judgements, according to its own essential forms. -These forms, however," etc. _The Friend_, No. 5, Thursday, September 14, -1809, p. 79, _n._ - -[61] For extracts from Poole's narrative of John Walford, see _Thomas -Poole and his Friends_, ii. 235-237. Wordsworth endeavoured to put the -narrative into verse, but was dissatisfied with the result. His lines have -never been published. - -[62] H. N. Coleridge included these lines, as they appear in a note-book, -among the _Omniana_ of 1809-1816. They are headed incorrectly, -"Inscription on a Clock in Cheapside." The MS. is not very legible, but -there can be no doubt that Coleridge wrote, "On a clock in a market place -(proposed)." _Table Talk_, etc., 1884, p. 401; _Poetical Works_, p. 181. - -[63] The story of Maria Eleanora Schöning appeared in No. 13 of _The -Friend_, Thursday, November 16, 1809, pp. 194-208. It was reprinted as the -"Second Landing Place" in the revised edition of _The Friend_, published -in 1818. The somewhat laboured description of the heroine's voice, which -displeased Southey, and the beautiful illustration of the "withered leaf" -were allowed to remain unaltered, and appear in every edition. Coleridge's -_Works_, 1853, ii. 312-326. - -[64] Jonas Lewis von Hess, 1766-1823. He was a friend and pupil of Kant, -and author of _A History of Hamburg_. - -[65] John of Milan, who flourished 1100 A. D., was the author of _Medicina -Salernitana_. He also composed "versibus Leoninis," a poem entitled _Flos -Medicinæ_. Hoffmann's _Lexicon Universale_, art. "Salernum." - -[66] Three letters on the Catholic Question appeared in the _Courier_, -September 3, 21, and 26, 1811. _Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 891-896, -920-932. - -[67] The Battle of Albuera. Articles on the battle appeared in the -_Courier_ on June 5 and 8, 1811. _Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 802-805. - -[68] "That a Judge should have regarded as an aggravation of a libel on -the British Army, the writer's having written against Buonaparte, is an -act so monstrous," etc. "Buonaparte," _Courier_, June 29, 1811; _Essays on -His Own Times_, iii. 818. - -[69] John Drakard, the printer of the _Stamford News_, was convicted at -Lincoln, May 25, 1811, of the publication of an article against flogging -in the army, and sentenced to a fine and imprisonment. - -[70] Lord Milton, one of the members for Yorkshire, brought forward a -motion on June 6, 1811, against the reappointment of the Duke of York as -Commander-in-Chief. - -[71] Clerk of the _Courier_. Letter to _Gentleman's Magazine_, June, 1838, -p. 586. - -[72] Many years after the date of this letter, Dr. Spurzheim took a -life-mask of Coleridge's face, and used it as a model for a bust which -originally belonged to H. N. Coleridge, and is now in the Library at -Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary. Another bust of Coleridge, very similar to -Spurzheim's, belonged to my father, and is still in the possession of the -family. I have been told that it was taken from a death-mask, but as Mr. -Hamo Thornycroft, who designed the bust for Westminster Abbey, pointed out -to me, it abounds in anatomical defects. In a letter which Henry Coleridge -wrote to his father, Colonel Coleridge, on the day of his uncle's death, -he says that a death-mask had been taken of the poet's features. Whether -this served as a model for a posthumous bust, or not, I am unable to say. -In the curious and valuable article on death-masks which Mr. Laurence -Hutton contributed to the October number of _Harper's Magazine_, for 1892, -he gives a fac-simile of a death-mask which was said to be that of S, T. -Coleridge. At the time that I wrote to him on the subject, I had not seen -Henry Coleridge's letter, but I came to the conclusion that this sad -memorial of death was genuine. The "glorious forehead" is there, but the -look has passed away, and the "rest is silence." With regard to Allston's -bust of Coleridge, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1812, I -possess no information. See _Harper's Magazine_, October, 1892, pp. 782, -783. - -[73] A favourite quip. Apropos of the bed on which he slept at Trinity -College, Cambridge, in June, 1833, he remarks, "Truly I lay down at night -a man, and awoke in the morning a bruise." _Table Talk_, etc., Bell & Co., -1884, p. 231, note. - -[74] "Crimen ingrati animi nil aliud est quam perspicacia quædam in causam -collati beneficii." _De Augmentis Scientiarum_, cap. iii. 15. If this is -the passage which Coleridge is quoting, he has inserted some words of his -own. _The Works of Bacon_, 1711, i. 183. - -[75] A crayon sketch of Coleridge, drawn by George Dawe, R. A., is now in -existence at Heath Court. The figure, which is turned sideways, the face -looking up, the legs crossed, is that of a man in early middle life, -somewhat too portly for his years. An engraving of the sketch forms the -frontispiece to Lloyd's _History of Highgate_. It was, in the late Lord -Coleridge's opinion, a most characteristic likeness of his great-uncle. A -time came when, for some reason, Coleridge held Dawe in but light esteem. -I possess a card of invitation to his funeral, which took place at St. -Paul's Cathedral, on October 27, 1829. It is endorsed thus:-- - - "I really would have attended the Grub's Canonization in St. Paul's, - under the impression that it would gratify his sister, Mrs. Wright; - but Mr. G. interposed a conditional but sufficiently decorous - negative. 'No! Unless you wish to follow his Grubship still further - _down_.' So I pleaded ill health. But the very Thursday morning I went - to Town to see my daughter, for the first time, as _Mrs. Henry - Coleridge_, in Gower Street, and, odd enough, the stage was stopped by - the Pompous Funeral of the unchangeable and predestinated Grub, and I - extemporised:-- - - As Grub Dawe pass'd beneath the Hearse's Lid, - On which a large RESURGAM met the eye, - _Col_, who well knew the Grub, cried, Lord forbid! - I trust, he's only telling us a lie! - - S. T. COLERIDGE." - -Dawe, it may be remembered, is immortalised by Lamb in his amusing -_Recollections of a Late Royal Academician_. - -[76] This portrait, begun at Rome, was not finished when Coleridge left. -It is now in the possession of Allston's niece, Miss Charlotte Dana, of -Boston, Mass., U. S. A. The portrait by Allston, now in the National -Portrait Gallery, was taken at Bristol in 1814. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, -a Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, p. 150, footnote 5. - -[77] The lectures were delivered at the rooms of "The London Philosophical -Society, Scotch Corporation Hall, Crane Court, Fleet Street (entrance from -Fetter Lane)." Of the lecture on "Love and the Female Character," which -was delivered on December 9, 1811, H. C. Robinson writes: "Accompanied -Mrs. Rough to Coleridge's seventh and incomparably best Lecture. He -declaimed with great eloquence about love, without wandering from his -subject, Romeo and Juliet." Among the friends who took notes were John -Payne Collier, and a Mr. Tomalin. Coleridge's _Lectures on Shakespeare_, -London, 1856, p. viii.; H. C. Robinson's _Diary_, ii. 348, MS. notes by J. -Tomalin. - -[78] The visit to Greta Hall, the last he ever paid to the Lake Country, -lasted about a month, from February 23 to March 26. On his journey -southward he remained in Penrith for a little over a fortnight, rejoining -the Morgans towards the middle of April. - -[79] The Reverend John Dawes, who kept a day-school at Ambleside. Hartley -and Derwent Coleridge, Robert Jameson, Owen Lloyd and his three brothers -(sons of Charles Lloyd), and the late Edward Jefferies, afterwards Curate -and Rector of Grasmere, were among his pupils. In the _Memoir of Hartley -Coleridge_, his brother Derwent describes at some length the character of -his "worthy master," and adds: "We were among his earliest scholars, and -deeming it, as he said, an honour to be entrusted with the education of -Mr. Coleridge's sons, he refused, first for the elder, and afterwards for -the younger brother, any pecuniary remuneration." _Poems_ of Hartley -Coleridge, 1851, i. liii. - -[80] In an unpublished letter from Mrs. Coleridge to Poole, dated October -30, 1812, she tells her old friend that when "the boys" perceived that -their father did not intend to turn aside to visit the Wordsworths at the -Rectory opposite Grasmere Church, they turned pale and were visibly -affected. No doubt they knew all about the quarrel and were mightily -concerned, but their agitation was a reflex of the grief and passion "writ -large" in their father's face. One can imagine with what ecstasy of -self-torture he would pass through Grasmere and leave Wordsworth -unvisited. - -[81] Sir Thomas Bernard, 1750-1818, the well-known philanthropist and -promoter of national education, was one of the founders of the Royal -Institution. - -[82] It is probable that during his stay at Penrith he recovered a number -of unbound sheets of the reprint of _The Friend_. His proposal to Gale and -Curtis must have been to conclude the unfinished narrative of the life of -Sir Alexander Ball, and to publish the whole as a complete work. A printed -slip cut out of a page of publishers' advertisements and forwarded to "H. -N. Coleridge, Esq., from W. Pickering," contains the following -announcement:-- - -"Mr. Coleridge's _Friend_, of which twenty-eight Numbers are published, -may now be had, in one Volume, royal 8vo. boards, of Mess. Gale and -Curtis, Paternoster Row. And Mr. C. intends to complete the Work, in from -eight to ten similar sheets to the foregoing, which will be published -together in one part, sewed. The Subscribers to the former part can obtain -them through their regular Booksellers. Only 300 copies remain of the 28 -numbers, and their being printed on unstamped paper will account to the -Subscribers for the difference of price. 23, Paternoster Row, London, 1st -February, 1812." - -[83] The full title of this work was _The Origin, Nature and Object of the -New System of Education_. Southey's _Life of Dr. Bell_, ii. 409. - -[84] The Honourable and Right Reverend John Shute Barrington, 1734-1826, -sixth son of the first Lord Barrington, was successively Bishop of -Llandaff, Salisbury, and Durham. He was a warm supporter of the Madras -system of education. It was no doubt Dr. Bell who helped to interest the -Bishop in Coleridge's Lectures. - -[85] Herbert Southey, known in the family as "Dog-Lunus," and "Lunus," and -"The Moon." _Letters of R. Southey_, ii. 399. - -[86] Readers of _The Doctor_ will not be at a loss to understand the -significance of the references to Dr. Daniel Dove and his horse Nobs. -According to Cuthbert Southey, the actual composition of the book began in -1813, but the date of this letter (April, 1812) shows that the myth or -legend of the "Doctor," and his iron-grey, which had taken shape certainly -as early as 1805, was fully developed in the spring of 1812, when -Coleridge paid his last visit to Greta Hall. It was not till the winter of -1833-1834, that the first two volumes of _The Doctor_ appeared in print, -and, as they were published anonymously, they were, probably, by persons -familiar with his contribution to _Blackwood_ and the _London Magazine_, -attributed to Hartley Coleridge. "No clue to the author has reached me," -wrote Southey to his friend Wynne. "As for Hartley Coleridge, I wish it -were his, but am certain that it is not. He is quite clever enough to have -written it--quite odd enough, but his opinions are desperately radical, -and he is the last person in the world to disguise them. One report was -that his father had assisted him; there is not a page in the book, wise or -foolish, which the latter _could_ have written, neither his wisdom nor his -folly are of that kind." There had been a time when Southey would have -expressed himself differently, but in 1834 dissociation from Coleridge had -become a matter alike of habit and of principle. _Southey's Life and -Correspondence_, ii. 355, vi. 225-229; _Letters of R. Southey_, iv. 373. - -[87] The first of the series of "Essays upon Epitaphs" was published in -No. 25 of the original issue of _The Friend_ (Feb. 22, 1810), and -republished by Wordsworth in the notes to _The Excursion_, 1814. "Two -other portions of the 'Series,' of which the Bishop of Lincoln gives an -outline and some extracts in the _Memoirs_ (i. 434-445), were published in -full in _Prose Works of Wordsworth_, 1876, ii. 41-75." _Life of W. -Wordsworth_, ii. 152; _Poetical Works of Wordsworth_, Bibliography, p. -907. - -[88] To Miss Sarah Hutchinson, then living in Wales. - -[89] That Wordsworth ever used these words, or commissioned Montagu to -repeat them to Coleridge, is in itself improbable and was solemnly denied -by Wordsworth himself. But Wordsworth did not deny that with the best -motives and in a kindly spirit he took Montagu into his confidence and put -him on his guard, that he professed "to have no hope" of his old friend, -and that with regard to Coleridge's "habits" he might have described them -as a "nuisance" in his family. It was all meant for the best, but much -evil and misery might have been avoided if Wordsworth had warned Coleridge -that if he should make his home under Montagu's roof he could not keep -silence, or, better still, if he had kept silence and left Montagu to -fight his own battles. The cruel words which Montagu put into Wordsworth's -mouth or Coleridge in his agitation and resentment put into Montagu's, -were but the salt which the sufferer rubbed into his own wound. The time, -the manner, and the person combined to aggravate his misery and dismay. -Judgment had been delivered against him _in absentiâ_, and the judge was -none other than his own "familiar friend." Henry Crabb Robinson's _Diary_, -May 3-10, 1812, first published in _Life of W. Wordsworth_, ii. 168, 187. - -[90] The tickets were numbered and signed by the lecturer. Printed cards -which were issued by way of advertisement contained the following -announcement:-- - -"LECTURES ON THE DRAMA. - -"Mr. Coleridge proposes to give a series of Lectures on the Drama of the -Greek, French, English and Spanish stage, chiefly with Reference to the -Works of Shakespeare, at Willis's Rooms, King Street, St. James's, on the -Tuesdays and Fridays in May and June at Three o'clock precisely. The -Course will contain Six Lectures, at One Guinea. The Tickets Transferable. -An Account is opened at Mess. Ransom Morland & Co., Bankers, Pall Mall, in -the names of Sir G. Beaumont, Bart., Sir T. Bernard, Bart., W. Sotheby, -Esq., where Subscriptions will be received, and Tickets issued. The First -Lecture on Tuesday, the 12th of May.--S. T. C., 71, Berners St." - -For an account of the first four lectures, see H. C. Robinson's _Diary_, -i. 385-388. - -[91] From Bombay. - -[92] I have followed Professor Knight in omitting a passage in which "he -gives a lengthened list of circumstances which seemed to justify -misunderstanding." The alleged facts throw no light on the relations -between Coleridge and Wordsworth. - -[93] The cryptogram which Coleridge invented for his own use was based on -the arbitrary selection of letters of the Greek as equivalents to letters -of the English alphabet. The vowels were represented by English letters, -by the various points, and by algebraic symbols. An expert would probably -decipher nine tenths of these memoranda at a glance, but here and there -the words symbolised are themselves anagrams of Greek, Latin, and German -words, and, in a few instances, the clue is hard to seek. - -[94] The Right Honourable Spencer Perceval was shot by a man named -Bellingham, in the lobby of the House of Commons, May 11, 1812. - -[95] The occasion of this letter was the death of Wordsworth's son, -Thomas, which took place December 1, 1812. It would seem, as Professor -Knight intimates, that the letter was not altogether acceptable to the -Wordsworths, and that "no immediate reply was sent to Coleridge." We have -it, on the authority of Mr. Clarkson, that when Wordsworth and Dorothy did -write, in the spring of the following year, inviting him to Grasmere, -their letters remained unanswered, and that when the news came that -Coleridge was about to leave London for the seaside, a fresh wound was -inflicted, and fresh offence taken. As Mr. Dykes Campbell has pointed out, -the consequences of this second rupture were fatal to Coleridge's peace of -mind and to his well-being generally. The brief spell of success and -prosperity which attended the representation of "Remorse" inspired him for -a few weeks with unnatural courage, but as the "pale unwarming light of -Hope" died away, he was left to face the world and himself as best or as -worst he could. Of the months which intervened between March and -September, 1813, there is no record, and we can only guess that he -remained with his kind and patient hosts, the Morgans, sick in body and -broken-hearted. _Life of W. Wordsworth_, ii. 182; _Samuel Taylor -Coleridge, a Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, pp. 193-197. - -[96] See Letter CXCV., p. 611, note 2. - -[97] The notice of "Remorse" in _The Times_, though it condemned the play -as a whole, was not altogether uncomplimentary, and would be accepted at -the present day by the majority of critics as just and fair. It was, no -doubt, the didactic and patronising tone adopted towards the author which -excited Coleridge's indignation. "We speak," writes the reviewer, "with -restraint and unwillingly of the defects of a work which must have cost -its author so much labour. We are peculiarly reluctant to touch the -anxieties of a man," etc. The notice in the _Morning Post_ was friendly -and flattering in the highest degree. The preface to _Osorio_, London, -1873, contains selections of press notices of "Remorse," and other -interesting matter. See, too, _Poetical Works_, Editor's Note on -"Remorse," pp. 649-651. - -[98] John Williams, described by Macaulay as "a filthy and malignant -baboon," who wrote under the pseudonym of "Anthony Pasquin," emigrated to -America early in this century. In 1804 he published a work in Boston, and -there is, apparently, no reason to suppose that he subsequently returned -to England. Either Coleridge was in error or he uses the term generally -for a scurrilous critic. - -[99] This note-book must have passed out of Coleridge's possession in his -lifetime, for it is not among those which were bequeathed to Joseph Henry -Green, and subsequently passed into the hands of my father. The two folio -volumes of the Greek Poets were in my father's library, and are now in my -possession. - -[100] "Mr. Colridge (_sic_) will not, we fear, be as much entertained as -we were with his 'Playhouse Musings,' which begin with characteristic -pathos and simplicity, and put us much in mind of the affecting story of -old Poulter's mare." - -[101] The motto "Sermoni propriora," translated by Lamb "properer for a -sermon," was prefixed to "Reflections on having left a Place of -Retirement." The lines "To a Young Ass" were originally published in the -_Morning Chronicle_, December 30, 1794, under the heading, "Address to a -Young Jack Ass, and its _tethered_ Mother. In Familiar Verse." _Poetical -Works_, pp. 35, 36, Appendix C, p. 477. See, too, Biographia Literaria, -Coleridge's _Works_, 1853, iii. 161. - -[102] The words, "Obscurest Haunt of all our mountains," are to be found -in the first act of "Remorse," lines 115, 116. Their counterpart in -Wordsworth's poems occurs in "The Brothers," l. 140. ("It is the loneliest -place of all these hills.") "De minimis non curat lex," especially when -there is a plea to be advanced, or a charge to be defended. _Poetical -Works_, p. 362; _Works of Wordsworth_, p. 127. - -[103] Many theories have been hazarded with regard to the broken -friendship commemorated in these lines. My own impression is that -Coleridge, if he had anything personal in his mind, and we may be sure -that he had, was looking back on his early friendship with Southey and the -bitter quarrel which began over the collapse of pantisocracy, and was -never healed till the summer of 1799. In the late autumn of 1800, when the -second part of "Christabel" was written, Southey was absent in Portugal, -and the thought of all that had come and gone between him and his "heart's -best brother" inspired this outburst of affection and regret. - -[104] The annuity of £150 for life, which Josiah Wedgwood, on his own and -his brother Thomas' behalf, offered to Coleridge in January, 1798. The -letter expressly states that it is "an annuity for life of £150 to be -regularly paid by us, no condition whatsoever being annexed to it." "We -mean," he adds, "the annuity to be independent of everything but the wreck -of our fortune." It is extraordinary that a man of probity should have -taken advantage of the fact that the annuity, as had been proposed, was -not secured by law, and should have struck this blow, not so much at -Coleridge, as at his wife and children, for whom the annuity was reserved. -It is hardly likely that a man of business forgot the terms of his own -offer, or that he could have imagined that Coleridge was no longer in need -of support. Either in some fit of penitence or of passion Coleridge -offered to release him, or once again "whispering tongues had poisoned -truth," and some one had represented to Wedgwood that the money was doing -more harm than good. But a bond is a bond, and it is hard to see, unless -the act and deed were Coleridge's, how Wedgwood can escape blame. _Thomas -Poole and his Friends_, i. 257-259. - -[105] Dr. Southey, the poet's younger brother Henry, and Daniel Stuart -were afterwards neighbours in Harley Street. A close intimacy and lifelong -friendship arose between the two families. - -[106] Treaty of Vienna, October 9, 1809. - -[107] This could only have been carried out in part. A large portion of -the books which Coleridge possessed at his death consisted of those which -he had purchased during his travels in Germany in 1799, and in Italy in -1805-1806. - -[108] The publication by Cottle, in 1837, of this and the following -letter, and still more of that to Josiah Wade of June 26, 1814 (Letter -CC.), was deeply resented by Coleridge's three children and by all his -friends. In the preface to his _Early Recollections_ Cottle defends -himself on the plea that in the interests of truth these confessions -should be revealed, and urges that Coleridge's own demand that after his -death "a full and unqualified narrative of my wretchedness and its guilty -cause may be made public," not only justified but called for his action in -the matter. The law of copyright in the letters of parents and remoter -ancestors was less clearly defined at that time than it is at present, and -Coleridge's literary executors contented themselves with recording their -protest in the strongest possible terms. In 1848, when Cottle reprinted -his _Early Recollections_, together with some additional matter, under the -title of _Reminiscences of S. T. Coleridge_, etc., he was able to quote -Southey as an advocate, though, possibly, a reluctant advocate, for -publication. There can be no question that neither Coleridge's request nor -Southey's sanction gave Cottle any right to wound the feelings of the -living or to expose the frailties and remorse of the dead. The letters, -which have been public property for nearly sixty years, are included in -these volumes because they have a natural and proper place in any -collection of Coleridge's Letters which claims to be, in any sense, -representative of his correspondence at large. - -[109] At whatever time these lines may have been written, they were not -printed till 1829, when they were prefixed to the "Monody on the Death of -Chatterton." _Poetical Works_, p. 61; Editor's Note, pp. 562, 563. - -[110] "The Picture; or The Lover's Resolution," lines 17-25. _Poetical -Works_, p. 162. - -[111] Solomon Grundy is a character, played by Fawcett, in George Colman -the younger's piece, _Who wants a Guinea?_ produced at Covent Garden, -1804-1805. - -[112] A character in Macklin's play, _Love à la Mode_. - -[113] A character in Macklin's play, _A Man of the World_. - -[114] It is needless to say that Coleridge never even attempted a -translation of _Faust_. Whether there were initial difficulties with -regard to procuring the "whole of Goethe's works," and other books of -reference, or whether his heart failed him when he began to study the work -with a view to translation, the arrangement with Murray fell through. A -statement in the _Table Talk_ for February 16, 1833, that the task was -abandoned on moral grounds, that he could not bring himself to familiarise -the English public with "language, much of which was," he thought, -"vulgar, licentious, and blasphemous," is not borne out by the tone of his -letters to Murray, of July 29, August 31, 1814. No doubt the spirit of -_Faust_, alike with regard to theology and morality, would at all times -have been distasteful to him, but with regard to what actually took place, -he deceived himself in supposing that the feelings and scruples of old age -would have prevailed in middle life. _Memoirs of John Murray_, i. 297 _et -seq._ - -[115] "The thoughts of Coleridge, even during the whirl of passing events, -discovered their hidden springs, and poured forth, in an obscure style, -and to an unheeding age, the great moral truths which were then being -proclaimed in characters of fire to mankind." Alison's _History of -Europe_, ix. 3 (ninth edition). - -[116] The eight "Letters on the Spaniards," which Coleridge contributed to -the _Courier_ in December, January, 1809-10, are reprinted in _Essays on -His Own Times_, ii. 593-676. - -[117] The character of Pitt appeared in the _Morning Post_, March 19, -1800; the letters to Fox, on November 4, 9, 1802; the Essays on the French -Empire, etc., September 21, 25, and October 2, 1802; the Essay on the -restoration of the Bourbons, October, 1802. They are reprinted in the -second volume of _Essays on His Own Times_. - -Six Letters to Judge Fletcher on Catholic Emancipation, which appeared at -irregular intervals in the _Courier_, September-December, 1814, are -reprinted in _Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 677-733. - -The Essay on Taxation forms the seventh Essay of Section the First, on the -Principles of Political Knowledge. _The Friend_; _Coleridge's Works_, -Harper & Brothers, 1853, ii. 208-222. - -[118] Neither the original nor the transcript of this letter has, to my -knowledge, been preserved. - -[119] He reverts to this "turning of the worm" in a letter to Morgan dated -January 5, 1818. He threatened to attack publishers and printers in "a -vigorous and harmonious satire" to be called "Puff and Slander." I am -inclined to think that the remarkable verses entitled "A Character," which -were first printed in 1834, were an accomplished instalment of "these two -long satires." Letter in British Museum. MSS. Addit. 25612. _Samuel Taylor -Coleridge, a Narrative_ by J. Dykes Campbell, p. 234, note; _Poetical -Works_, pp. 195, 642. - -[120] A work which should contain all knowledge and proclaim all -philosophy had been Coleridge's dream from the beginning, and, as no such -work was ever produced, it may be said to have been his dream to the end. -And yet it was something more than a dream. Besides innumerable fragments -of metaphysical and theological speculation which have passed into my -hands, he actually did compose and dictate two large quarto volumes on -formal logic, which are extant. "Something more than a volume," a -portentous introduction to his _magnum opus_, was dictated to his -amanuensis and disciple, J. H. Green, and is now in my possession. A -commentary on the Gospels and some of the Epistles, of which the original -MS. is extant, and of which I possess a transcription, was an accomplished -fact. I say nothing of the actual or relative value of this unpublished -matter, but it should be put on record that it exists, that much labour, -ill-judged perhaps, and ineffectual labour, was expended on the outworks -of the fortresses, and that the walls and bastions are standing to the -present day. - -[121] The appearance of these "Essays on the Fine Arts" was announced in -the _Bristol Journal_ of August 6, 1814. They were reprinted in 1837 by -Cottle, in his _Early Recollections_, ii. 201-240, and by Thomas Ashe in -1885, in his _Miscellanies, Æsthetic and Literary_, pp. 5-35. Coleridge -himself "set a high value" on these essays. See _Table Talk_ of January 1, -1834. - -[122] The working editor of the _Courier_. - -[123] The third letter to Judge Fletcher on Ireland was published in the -_Courier_, October 21, 1814. It is reprinted in _Essays on His Own Times_, -iii. 690-697. - -[124] John Cartwright, 1740-1824, known as Major Cartwright, was an ardent -parliamentary reformer and an advocate of universal suffrage. He refused -to fight against the United States and wrote Letters on American -Independence (1774). - -[125] Lord Erskine's Bill for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals was -brought forward in the House of Lords May 15, 1809, and was passed without -a division. The Bill was read a second time in the House of Commons but -was rejected on going into committee, the opposition being led by Windham -in a speech of considerable ability. - -By "imperfect" duties Coleridge probably means "duties of imperfect -obligation." - -[126] This article, a review of "The Letters of Lord Nelson to Lady -Hamilton; with a Supplement of Interesting Letters by Distinguished -Personages. 2 vols. 8vo. Lovewell and Co. London. 1814," appeared in No. -xxi. of _The Quarterly Review_, for April, 1814. The attack is mainly -directed against Lady Hamilton, but Nelson, with every pretence of -reluctance and of general admiration, is also censured on moral grounds, -and his letters are held up to ridicule. - -[127] A partner in the publishing firm of Ridgeway and Symonds. _Letters -of R. Southey_, iii. 65. - -[128] The reference is to Swift's famous "Drapier" Letters. Swift wrote in -the assumed character of a draper, and dated his letters "From my shop in -St. Francis Street," but why he adopted the French instead of the English -spelling of the word does not seem to have been satisfactorily explained. -_Notes and Queries_, III. Series, x. 55. - -[129] The _View of the State of Ireland_, first published in 1633. - -[130] John Kenyon, 1783-1856, a poet and philanthropist. He settled at -Woodlands near Stowey in 1802, and became acquainted with Poole and -Poole's friends. He was on especially intimate terms with Southey, who -writes of him (January 11, 1827) to his still older friend Wynne, as "one -of the very best and pleasantest men whom I have ever known, one whom -every one likes at first sight, and likes better the longer he is known." -With Coleridge himself the tie was less close, but he was, I know, a most -kind friend to the poet's wife during those anxious years, 1814-1819, when -her children were growing up, and she had little else to depend upon but -Southey's generous protection and the moiety of the Wedgwood annuity. -Kenyon's friendship with the Brownings belongs to a later chapter of -literary history. - -[131] _Poetical Works_, p. 176; Appendix H, pp. 525, 526. - -[132] _Poetical Works_, p. 450. - -[133] In 1815 an act was brought in by Mr. Robinson (afterwards Lord -Ripon) and passed, permitting the importation of corn when the price of -home-grown wheat reached 80s. a quarter. During the spring of the year, -January-March, while the bill was being discussed, bread-riots took place -in London and Westminster. - -[134] It would seem that Coleridge had either overlooked or declined to -put faith in Wordsworth's Apology for _The Excursion_, which appeared in -the Preface to the First Edition of 1814. He was, of course, familiar with -the "poem on the growth of your mind," the hitherto unnamed and -unpublished _Prelude_, and he must have been at least equally familiar -with the earlier books of _The Excursion_. Why then was he disappointed -with the poem as a whole, and what had he looked for at Wordsworth's -hands? Not, it would seem, for an "ante-chapel," but for the sanctuary -itself. He had been stirred to the depths by the recitation of _The -Prelude_ at Coleorton, and in his lines "To a Gentleman," which he quotes -in this letter, he recapitulates the arguments of the poem. _This_ he -considered was _The Excursion_, "_an Orphic song indeed_"! and as he -listened the melody sank into his soul. But that was but an exordium, a -"prelusive strain" to _The Recluse_, which might indeed include the -Grasmere fragment, the story of Margaret and so forth, but which in the -form of poetry would convey the substance of divine philosophy. He had -looked for a second Milton who would put Lucretius to a double shame, for -a "philosophic poem," which would justify anew "the ways of God to men;" -and in lieu of this pageant of the imagination there was Wordsworth -prolific of moral discourse, of scenic and personal narrative--a prophet -indeed, but "unmindful of the heavenly Vision." - -[135] The Rev. William Money, a descendant of John Kyrle, the "Man of -Ross," eulogised alike by Pope and Coleridge, was at this time in -possession of the family seat of Whetham, a few miles distant from Calne, -in Wiltshire. Coleridge was often a guest at his house. - -[136] A controversial work on the inspiration of Scripture. A thin thread -of narrative runs through the dissertation. It was the work of the Rev. J. -W. Cunningham, Vicar of Harrow, and was published in 1813. - -[137] The Hon. and Rev. T. A. Methuen, Rector of All Cannings, was the son -of Paul Methuen, Esq., M. P., afterward Lord Methuen of Corsham House. He -contributed some reminiscences of Coleridge at this period to the -_Christian Observer_ of 1845. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a Narrative_, by -J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, p. 208. - -[138] The annual payments for board and lodging, which were made at first, -for some time before Coleridge's death fell into abeyance. The approximate -amount of the debt so incurred, and the circumstances under which it began -to accumulate, are alike unknown to me. The fact that such a debt existed -was, I believe, a secret jealously guarded by his generous hosts, but as, -with the best intentions, statements have been made to the effect that -there was no pecuniary obligation on Coleridge's part, it is right that -the truth should be known. On the other hand, it is only fair to -Coleridge's memory to put it on record that this debt of honour was a sore -trouble to him, and that he met it as best he could. We know, for -instance, on his own authority, that the profits of the three volume -edition of his poems, published in 1828, were made over to Mr. Gillman. - -[139] _Zapolya: A Christmas Tale, in two Parts_, was published by Rest -Fenner late in 1817. A year before, after the first part had been rejected -by the Drury Lane Committee, Coleridge arranged with Murray to publish -both parts as a poem, and received an advance of £50 on the MS. He had, it -seems, applied to Murray to be released from this engagement, and on the -strength of an ambiguous reply, offered the work to the publishers of -_Sybilline Leaves_. From letters to Murray, dated March 26 and March 29, -1817, it is evident that the £50 advanced on _A Christmas Tale_ was -repaid. In acknowledging the receipt of the sum, Murray seems to have -generously omitted all mention of a similar advance on "a play then in -composition." In his letter of March 29, Coleridge speaks of this second -debt, which does not appear to have been paid. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a -Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, p. 223; _Memoirs of John Murray_, i. -301-306. - -[140] Murray had offered Coleridge two hundred guineas for "a small volume -of specimens of Rabbinical Wisdom," but owing to pressure of work the -project was abandoned. "Specimens of Rabbinical Wisdom selected from the -Mishna" had already appeared in the original issue of _The Friend_ (Nos. -x., xi.), and these, with the assistance of his friend Hyman Hurwitz, -Master of the Hebrew Academy at Highgate, he intended to supplement and -expand into a volume. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a Narrative_, by J. Dykes -Campbell, p. 224 and note. - -[141] Apart from internal evidence, there is nothing to prove that this -article, a review of "Christabel," which appeared in the _Edinburgh -Review_, December, 1816, was written by Hazlitt. It led, however, to the -insertion of a footnote in the first volume of the _Biographia Literaria_, -in which Coleridge accused Jeffrey of personal and ungenerous animosity -against himself, and reminded him of hospitality shown to him at Keswick, -and of the complacent and flattering language which he had employed on -that occasion. Not content with commissioning Hazlitt to review the book, -Jeffrey appended a long footnote signed with his initials, in which he -indignantly repudiates the charge of personal animus, and makes bitter fun -of Coleridge's susceptibility to flattery, and of his boasted hospitality. -Southey had offered him a cup of coffee, and Coleridge had dined with him -at the inn. _Voila tout._ Both footnotes are good reading. _Biographia -Literaria_, ed. 1817, i. 52 note; _Edinburgh Review_, December, 1817. - -[142] Two letters from Tieck to Coleridge have been preserved, a very long -one, dated February 20, 1818, in which he discusses a scheme for bringing -out his works in England, and asks Coleridge if he has succeeded in -finding a publisher for him, and the following note, written sixteen years -later, to introduce the German painter, Herr von Vogelstein. I am indebted -to my cousin, Miss Edith Coleridge, for a translation of both letters. - - DRESDEN, April 30, 1834. - - I hope that my dear and honoured friend Coleridge still remembers me. - To me those delightful hours at Highgate remain unforgettable. I have - seen your friend Robinson, once here in Dresden, but you--At that time - I believed that I should come again to England--and in such hopes we - grow old and wear away. - - My kindest remembrances to your excellent hosts at Highgate. It is - with especial emotion that I look again and again at the _Anatomy of - Melancholy_ [a present from Mr. Gillman], as well as the _Lay - Sermons_, _Christabel_, and the _Biographia Literaria_. Herr von - Vogelstein, one of the most esteemed historical painters of Germany, - brings you this letter from your loving - - LUDWIG TIECK. - -[143] Henry Crabb Robinson, whose admirable diaries, first published in -1869, may, it is hoped, be reëdited and published in full, died at the age -of ninety-one in 1867. He was a constant guest at my father's house in -Chelsea during my boyhood. I have, too, a distinct remembrance of his -walking over Loughrigg from Rydal Mount, where he was staying with Mrs. -Wordsworth, and visiting my parents at High Close, between Grasmere and -Langdale, then and now the property of Mr. Wheatley Balme. This must have -been in 1857, when he was past eighty years of age. My impression is that -his conversation consisted, for the most part, of anecdotes concerning -Wieland and Schiller and Goethe. Of Wordsworth and Coleridge he must have -had much to say, but his words, as was natural, fell on the unheeding ears -of a child. - -[144] The Right Hon. John Hookham Frere, 1769-1846, now better known as -the translator of Aristophanes than as statesman or diplomatist, was a -warm friend to Coleridge in his later years. He figures in the later -memoranda and correspondence as [Greek: ho kalokagathos], the ideal -Christian gentleman. - -[145] Samuel Purkis, of Brentford, tanner and man of letters, was an early -friend of Poole's, and through him became acquainted with Coleridge and -Sir Humphry Davy. When Coleridge went up to London in June, 1798, to stay -with the Wedgwoods at Stoke House, in the village of Cobham, he stayed a -night at Brentford on the way. In a letter to Poole of the same date, he -thus describes his host: "Purkis is a _gentleman_, with the free and -cordial and interesting manners of the man of literature. His colloquial -diction is uncommonly pleasing, his information various, his _own mind_ -elegant and acute." _Thomas Poole and his Friends_, i. 271, _et passim_. - -[146] For an account of Coleridge's relations with his publishers, Fenner -and Curtis, see _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a Narrative_, by J. Dykes -Campbell, p. 227. See, too, _Lippincott's Mag._ for June, 1870, art. "Some -Unpublished Correspondence of S. T. Coleridge," and Brandl's _Samuel -Taylor Coleridge and the Romantic School_, 1887, pp. 351-353. - -[147] J. H. Frere was, I believe, one of those who assisted Coleridge to -send his younger son to Cambridge. - -[148] John Taylor Coleridge (better known as Mr. Justice Coleridge), and -George May Coleridge, Vicar of St. Mary Church, Devon, and Prebendary of -Wells. Another cousin who befriended Hartley, when he was an undergraduate -at Merton, and again later when he was living with the Montagus, in -London, was William Hart Coleridge, afterward Bishop of Barbados. The -poet's own testimony to the good work of his nephews should be set against -Allsop's foolish and uncalled for attack on "the Bishop and the Judge." -_Letters, etc., of S. T. Coleridge_, 1836, i. 225, note. - -[149] Poole's reply to this letter, dated July 31, 1817, contained an -invitation to Hartley to come to Nether Stowey. Mrs. Sandford tells us -that it was believed that "the young man spent more than one vacation at -Stowey, where he was well-known and very popular, though the young ladies -of the place either themselves called him the Black Dwarf, or cherished a -conviction that that was his nickname at Oxford." _Thomas Poole and his -Friends_, ii. 256-258. - -[150] The Rev. H. F. Cary, 1772-1844, the well-known translator of the -_Divina Commedia_. His son and biographer, the Rev. Henry Cary, gives the -following account of his father's first introduction to Coleridge, which -took place at Littlehampton in the autumn of 1817:-- - -"It was our custom to walk on the sands and read Homer aloud, a practice -adopted partly for the sake of the sea-breezes.... For several consecutive -days Coleridge crossed us in our walk. The sound of the Greek, and -especially the expressive countenance of the tutor, attracted his notice; -so one day, as we met, he placed himself directly in my father's way and -thus accosted him: 'Sir, yours is a face I _should_ know. I am Samuel -Taylor Coleridge.'" _Memoir of H. F. Cary_, ii. 18. - -[151] It appears, however, that he underrated his position as a critic. A -quotation from Cary's _Dante_, and a eulogistic mention of the work -generally, in a lecture on Dante, delivered by Coleridge at Flower-de-Luce -Court, on February 27, 1818, led, so his son says, to the immediate sale -of a thousand copies, and notices "reëchoing Coleridge's praises" in the -_Edinburgh_ and _Quarterly Reviews_. _Memoir of H. F. Cary_, ii. 28. - -[152] From the _Destiny of Nations_. - -[153] Joseph Henry Green, 1791-1863, an eminent surgeon and anatomist. In -his own profession he won distinction as lecturer and operator, and as the -author of the _Dissector's Manual_, and some pamphlets on medical reform -and education. He was twice, 1849-50 and 1858-59, President of the College -of Surgeons. His acquaintance with Coleridge, which began in 1817, was -destined to influence his whole career. It was his custom for many years -to pass two afternoons of the week at Highgate, and on these occasions as -amanuensis and collaborateur, he helped to lay the foundations of the -_Magnum Opus_. Coleridge appointed him his literary executor, and -bequeathed to him a mass of unpublished MSS. which it was hoped he would -reduce to order and publish as a connected system of philosophy. Two -addresses which he delivered, as Hunterian Orations in 1841 and 1847, on -"Vital Dynamics" and "Mental Dynamics," were published in his lifetime, -and after his death two volumes entitled _Spiritual Philosophy, founded on -the Teaching of S. T. Coleridge_, were issued, together with a memoir, by -his friend and former pupil, Sir John Simon. - -His fame has suffered eclipse owing in great measure to his chivalrous if -unsuccessful attempt to do honour to Coleridge. But he deserves to stand -alone. Members of his own profession not versed in polar logic looked up -to his "great and noble intellect" with pride and delight, and by those -who were honoured by his intimacy he was held in love and reverence. To -Coleridge he was a friend indeed, bringing with him balms more soothing -than "poppy or mandragora," the healing waters of Faith and Hope. -_Spiritual Philosophy_, by J. H. Green; Memoir of the author's life, -i.-lix. - -[154] This must have been the impromptu lecture "On the Growth of the -Individual Mind," delivered at the rooms of the London Philosophical -Society. According to Gillman, who details the circumstances under which -the address was given, but does not supply the date, the lecturer began -with an "apologetic preface": "The lecture I am about to give this evening -is purely extempore. Should you find a nominative case looking out for a -verb--or a fatherless verb for a nominative case, you must excuse it. It -is purely extempore, though I have thought and read much on this subject." -_Life of Coleridge_, pp. 354-357. - -[155] The "Essay on the Science of Method" was finished in December, 1817, -and printed in the following January. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a -Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, p. 232. - -[156] The Hebrew text and Coleridge's translation were published in the -form of a pamphlet, and sold by "T. Boosey, 4 Old Broad Street, 1817." The -full title was "ISRAEL'S LAMENT. Translation of a Hebrew dirge, chaunted -in the Great Synagogue, St. James' Place, Aldgate, on the day of the -Funeral of her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte. By Hyman Hurwitz, -Master of the Hebrew Academy, Highgate, 1817." - -The translation is below Coleridge at his worst. The "Harp of Quantock" -must, indeed, have required stringing before such a line as "For England's -Lady is laid low" could have escaped the file, or "worn her" be permitted -to rhyme with "mourner"! _Poetical Works_, p. 187; Editor's Note, p. 638. - -[157] The _Kritik der praktischen Vernunft_ was published in 1797. - -[158] This statement requires explanation. Franz Xavier von Baader, -1765-1841, was a mystic of the school of Jacob Böhme, and wrote in -opposition to Schelling. - -[159] Ludwig Tieck published his _Sternbald's Wanderungen_ in 1798. - -[160] Heinse's _Ardinghello_ was published in 1787. - -[161] Richter's _Vorschule der Aisthetik_ was published in 1804 (3 vols.). - -[162] See _Table Talk_ for January 3 and May 1, 1823. See, also, _The -Friend_, Essay iii. of the First Landing Place. Coleridge's _Works_, -Harper & Brothers, 1853, ii. 134-137, and "Notes on Hamlet," _Ibid._ iv. -147-150. - -[163] Charles Augustus Tulk, described by Mr. Campbell as "a man of -fortune with an uncommon taste for philosophical speculation," was an -eminent Swedenborgian, and mainly instrumental in establishing the "New -Church" in Great Britain. It was through Coleridge's intimacy with Mr. -Tulk that his writings became known to the Swedenborgian community, and -that his letters were read at their gatherings. I possess transcripts of -twenty-five letters from Coleridge to Tulk, in many of which he details -his theories of ontological speculation. The originals were sold and -dispersed in 1882. - -A note on Swedenborg's treatise, "De Cultu et Amore Dei," is printed in -_Notes Theological and Political_, London, 1853, p. 110, but a long series -of marginalia on the pages of the treatise, "De Coelo et Inferno," of -which a transcript has been made, remains unpublished. - -For Coleridge's views on Swedenborgianism, see "Notes on Noble's Appeal," -_Literary Remains_; Coleridge's _Works_, Harper & Brothers, 1853, v. -522-527. - -[164] It may be supposed that it was Blake, the mystic and the -spiritualist, that aroused Tulk's interest, and that, as an indirect -consequence, the original edition of his poems, "engraved in -writing-hand," was sent to Coleridge for his inspection and criticism. The -_Songs of Innocence_ were published in 1787, ten years before the _Lyrical -Ballads_ appeared, and more than thirty years before the date of this -letter, but they were known only to a few. Lamb, writing in 1824, speaks -of him as _Robert_ Blake, and after praising in the highest terms his -paintings and engravings, says that he has never read his poems, "which -have been sold hitherto only in manuscript." It is strange that Coleridge -should not have been familiar with them, for in 1812 Crabb Robinson, so he -tells us, read them aloud to Wordsworth, who was "pleased with some of -them, and considered Blake as having the elements of poetry, a thousand -times more than either Byron or Scott." None, however, of these hearty and -genuine admirers appear to have reflected that Blake had "gone back to -nature," a while before Wordsworth or Coleridge turned their steps in that -direction. _Letters of Charles Lamb_, 1886, ii. 104, 105, 324, 325; H. C. -Robinson's _Diary_, i. 385. - -[165] In the _Aids to Reflection_, at the close of a long comment on a -passage in Field, Coleridge alludes to "discussions of the Greek Fathers, -and of the Schoolmen on the obscure and abysmal subject of the divine -A-seity, and the distinction between the [Greek: thelêma] and the [Greek: -boulê], that is, the Absolute Will as the universal ground of all being, -and the election and purpose of God in the personal Idea, as Father." -Coleridge's _Works_, 1853, i. 317. - -[166] The bill in which Coleridge interested himself, and in favour of -which he wrote two circulars which were printed and distributed, was -introduced in the House of Commons by the first Sir Robert Peel. The -object of the bill was to regulate the employment of children in cotton -factories. A bill for prohibiting the employment of children under nine -was passed in 1833, but it was not till 1844 that the late Lord -Shaftesbury, then Lord Ashley, succeeded in passing the Ten Hours Bills. -In a letter of May 3d to Crabb Robinson, Coleridge asks: "Can you furnish -us with any other instances in which the legislature has interfered with -what is ironically called 'Free Labour' (_i. e._ dared to prohibit -soul-murder on the part of the rich, and self-slaughter on that of the -poor!), or any dictum of our grave law authorities from Fortescue--to -Eldon: for from the borough of Hell I wish to have no representatives." -Henry Crabb Robinson's _Diary_, ii. 93-95. - -[167] James Maitland, 1759-1839, eighth Earl of Lauderdale, belonged to -the party of Charles James Fox, and, like Coleridge, opposed the first war -with France, which began in 1793. In the ministry of "All the Talents" he -held the Great Seal of Scotland. Coleridge calls him plebeian because he -inherited the peerage from a remote connection. He was the author of -several treatises on finance and political economy. - -[168] It was, I have been told by an eyewitness, Coleridge's habit to take -a pinch of snuff, and whilst he was talking to rub it between his fingers. -He wasted so much snuff in the process that the maid servant had -directions to sweep up these literary remains and replace them in the -canister. - -[169] A pet name for the Gillmans' younger son, Henry. - -[170] Coleridge was fond of quoting these lines as applicable to himself. - -[171] Washington Allston. - -[172] Charles Robert Leslie, historical painter, 1794-1859, was born of -American parents, but studied art in London under Washington Allston. A -pencil sketch, for which Coleridge sat to him in 1820, is in my -possession. Mr. Hamo Thornycroft, R. A., after a careful inspection of -other portraits and engravings of S. T. Coleridge, modelled the bust which -now (thanks to American generosity) finds its place in Poets' Corner, -mainly in accordance with this sketch. - -[173] _Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of S. T. Coleridge_, -London, 1836, i. 1-3. - -[174] The Prospectus of the Lectures on the History of Philosophy was -printed in Allsop's _Letters_, etc., as Letter xliv., November 26, 1818, -but the announcement of the time and place has been omitted. A very rare -copy of the original prospectus, which has been placed in my hands by Mrs. -Henry Watson, gives the following details:-- - -"This course will be comprised in Fourteen Lectures, to commence on Monday -evening, December 7, 1818, at eight o'clock, at the Crown and Anchor, -Strand; and be continued on the following Mondays, with the intermission -of Christmas week--Double Tickets, admitting a Lady and Gentleman, Three -Guineas. Single Tickets, Two Guineas. Admission to a Single Lecture, Five -Shillings. An Historical and Chronological Guide to the course will be -printed." - -A reporter was hired at the expense of Hookham Frere to take down the -lectures in shorthand. A transcript, which I possess, contains numerous -errors and omissions, but is interesting as affording proof of the -conversational style of Coleridge's lectures. See, for further account of -Lectures of 1819, _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a Narrative_, by J. Dykes -Campbell, pp. 238, 239. - -[175] Thomas Phillips, R. A., 1770-1845, painted two portraits of -Coleridge, one of which is in the possession of Mr. John Murray, and was -engraved as the frontispiece of the first volume of the _Table Talk_; and -the other in that of Mr. William Rennell Coleridge, of Salston, Ottery St. -Mary. The late Lord Chief Justice used to say that the Salston picture was -"the best presentation of the outward man." No doubt it recalled his -great-uncle as he remembered him. It certainly bears a close resemblance -to the portraits of Coleridge's brothers, Edward and George, and of other -members of the family. - -[176] My impression is that this letter was written to Mrs. Aders, the -beautiful and accomplished daughter of the engraver Raphael Smith, but the -address is wanting and I cannot speak with any certainty. - -[177] Compare lines 16-20 of _The Two Founts_:-- - - "As on the driving cloud the shiny bow, - That gracious thing made up of tears and light." - -The poem as a whole was composed in 1826, and, as I am assured by Mrs. -Henry Watson (on the authority of her grandmother, Mrs. Gillman), -addressed to Mrs. Aders; but the fifth and a preceding stanza, which -Coleridge marked for interpolation, in an annotated copy of _Poetical -Works_, 1828 (kindly lent me by Mrs. Watson), must have been written -before that date, and were, as I gather from an insertion in a note-book, -originally addressed to Mrs. Gillman. _Poetical Works_, p. 196. See, too, -for unprinted stanza, _Ibid._ Editor's Note, p. 642. - -[178] "To Two Sisters." _Poetical Works_, p. 179. - -[179] The so-called "Manchester Massacre," nicknamed Peterloo, took place -August 16, 1819. Towards the middle of October dangerous riots broke out -at North Shields. Cries of "Blood for blood," "Manchester over again," -were heard in the streets, and "so daring have the mob been that they -actually threatened to burn or destroy the ships of war." _Annual -Register_, October 15-23, 1819. - -[180] "Fears in Solitude." _Poetical Works_, p. 127. - -[181] Mrs. Gillman's sister. - -[182] A collection of casts of antique gems, once, no doubt, the property -of S. T. C., is now in the possession of Alexander Gillman, Esq., of -Sussex Square, Brighton. - -[183] Edward Dubois, satirist, 1775-1850, was the author of _The Wreath_, -a _Translation of Boccaccio's Decameron_, 1804, and other works besides -those mentioned in the text. _Biographical Dictionary._ - -[184] A late note-book of the Highgate period contains the following -doggerel:-- - -TO THE MOST VERACIOUS ANECDOTIST AND SMALL-TALK MAN, THOMAS HILL, ESQ. - - Tom Hill who laughs at cares and woes, - As nanci--nili--pili-- - What is _he_ like as I suppose? - Why to be sure, a Rose, a Rose. - At least no soul that Tom Hill knows, - Could e'er recall a Li-ly. - S. T. C. - -"The first time," writes Miss Stuart, in a personal remembrance of -Coleridge, headed "A Farewell, 1834," "I dined in company at my father's -table, I sat between Coleridge and Mr. Hill (known as 'Little Tommy Hill') -of the Adelphi, and Ezekiel then formed the theme of Coleridge's -eloquence. I well remember his citing the chapter of the Dead Bones, and -his sepulchral voice as he asked, 'Can these bones live?' Then, his -observation that nothing in the range of human thought was more sublime -than Ezekiel's reply, 'Lord, thou knowest,' in deepest humility, not -presuming to doubt the omnipotence of the Most High." _Letters from the -Lake Poets_, p. 322. See, too, Letters from Hill to Stuart, _Ibid._ p. -435. - -[185] William Elford Leach, 1790-1836, a physician and naturalist, was at -this time Curator of the Natural History Department at the British Museum. - -By Lawrencian, Coleridge means a disciple of the eminent surgeon William -Lawrence, whose "Lectures on the Physiology, Zoölogy, and Natural History -of Man," which were delivered in 1816, are alluded to more than once in -his "Theory of Life." "Theory of Life" in _Miscellanies, Æsthetic and -Literary_, Bohn's Standard Library, pp. 377, 385. - -[186] Included in the _Omniana_ of 1809-1816. _Table Talk_, etc., Bell & -Sons, 1884, p. 400. - -[187] Compare a letter of Coleridge to Allsop, dated October 8, 1822, in -which he details "the four griping and grasping sorrows, each of which -seemed to have my very heart in its hands, compressing or wringing." - -It was the publication of this particular letter, with its thinly-veiled -allusions to Wordsworth, Southey, and to Coleridge's sons, which not only -excited indignation against Allsop, but moved Southey to write a letter to -Cottle. _Letters, Conversation_, etc., 1836, ii. 140-146. - -[188] Compare "The Wanderer's Farewell to Two Sisters" (Mrs. Morgan and -Miss Brent), 1807. Miss Brent made her home with her married sister, Mrs. -J. J. Morgan, and during the years 1810-1815, when Coleridge lived under -the Morgans' roof at Hammersmith, in London, and in the West of England, -he received from these ladies the most affectionate care and attention, -both in sickness and in health. _Poetical Works_, pp. 179, 180. - -[189] The Reverend Edward Coleridge, 1800-1883, the sixth and youngest son -of Colonel James Coleridge, was for many years a Master and afterwards a -Fellow of Eton. He also held the College living of Mapledurham near -Reading. He corresponded with his uncle, who was greatly attached to him, -on philosophical and theological questions. It was to him that the -"Confessions of an Enquiring Spirit" were originally addressed in the form -of letters. - -[190] Colonel Coleridge's only daughter, Frances Duke, was afterwards -married to the Honourable Mr. Justice Patteson, a Judge of the Queen's -Bench. - -[191] - - Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore - On winding lake, or rivers wide, - That ask no aid of sail or oar, - That fear no spite of wind or tide. - -"Youth and Age," ll. 12-15. _Poetical Works_, p. 191. A MS. copy of "Youth -and Age" in my possession, of which the probable date is 1822, reads -"boats" for "skiffs." - -[192] Sir Alexander Johnston, 1775-1849, a learned orientalist. He was -Advocate General (afterwards Chief Justice) of Ceylon, and had much to do -with the reorganisation of the constitution of the island. He was one of -the founders of the Royal Asiatic Society. _Dict. of Nat. Biog._ art. -"Johnston, Sir Alexander." - -[193] Gabriele Rossetti, 1783-1854, the father of Dante G. Rossetti, etc., -first visited England as a political exile in 1824. In 1830 he was -appointed Professor of the Italian language at King's College. He is best -known as a commentator on Dante. He presented Coleridge with a copy of his -work, _Dello Spirito Antipapale che Produsse la Riforma_, and some of his -verses in MS., which are in my possession. - -[194] From the letter of Wordsworth to Lord Lonsdale, of February 5, 1819, -it is plain that the translation of three books of the Æneid had been -already completed at that date. Another letter written five years later, -November 3, 1824, implies that the work had been put aside, and, after a -long interval, reattempted. In the mean time a letter of Coleridge to Mrs. -Allsop, of April 8, 1824, tells us that the three books had been sent to -Coleridge and must have remained in his possession for some time. The MS. -of this translation appears to have been lost, but "one of the books," -Professor Knight tells us, was printed in the _Philological Museum_, at -Cambridge, in 1832. _Life of W. Wordsworth_, ii. 296-303. - -[195] Coleridge was at this time (1824) engaged in making a selection of -choice passages from the works of Archbishop Leighton, which, together -with his own comment and corollaries, were published as _Aids to -Reflection_, in 1825. See Letter CCXXX. - -[196] _Conversations of Lord Byron_, etc., by Captain Medwin. - -[197] The frontispiece of the second volume of the _Antiquary_ represents -Dr. Dousterswivel digging for treasure in Misticot's grave. The -resemblance to Coleridge is, perhaps, not wholly imaginary. - -[198] John Taylor Coleridge was editor of the _Quarterly Review_ for one -year, 1825-1826. _Southey's Life and Correspondence_, v. 194, 201, 204, -239, etc.; _Letters of Robert Southey_, iii. 455, 473, 511, 514, etc. - -[199] Henry Hart Milman, 1791-1868, afterwards celebrated as historian and -divine (Dean of St. Paul's, 1849), was, at this time, distinguished -chiefly as a poet. His _Fall of Jerusalem_ was published in 1820. He was a -contributor to the _Quarterly Review_. - -[200] Afterward the wife of Sir George Beaumont, the artist's son and -successor in the baronetcy. - -[201] Almost the same sentence with regard to his address as Royal -Associate occurs in a letter to his nephew, John Taylor Coleridge, of May -20, 1825. The "Essay on the Prometheus of Æschylus," which was printed in -_Literary Remains_, was republished in _Coleridge's Works_, Harper & -Brothers, 1853, iv. 344-365. See, also, Brandl's _Life of Coleridge_, p. -361. - -[202] The portrait of William Hart Coleridge, Bishop of Barbadoes and the -Leeward Islands, by Thomas Phillips, R. A., is now in the Hall of Christ -Church, Oxford. - -[203] A sprig of this myrtle (or was it a sprig of myrtle in a nosegay?) -grew into a plant. At some time after Coleridge's death it passed into the -hands of the late S. C. Hall, who presented it to the late Lord Coleridge. -It now flourishes, in strong old age, in a protected nook outside the -library at Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary. - -[204] George Dyer, 1755-1841, best remembered as the author of _The -History of the University of Cambridge_, and a companion work on _The -Privileges of the University of Cambridge_, began life as a Baptist -minister, but settled in London as a man of letters in 1792. As a -"brother-Grecian" he was introduced to Coleridge in 1794, in the early -days of pantisocracy, and probably through him became intimate with Lamb -and Southey. He contributed "The Show, an English Eclogue," and other -poems, to the _Annual Anthology_ of 1799 and 1800. His poetry was a -constant source of amused delight to Lamb and Coleridge. A pencil sketch -of Dyer by Matilda Betham is in the British Museum. _Letters of Charles -Lamb_, i. 125-128 _et passim_; _Southey's Life and Correspondence_, i. 218 -_et passim_. - -[205] George Cattermole, 1800-1868, to whose "peculiar gifts and powerful -genius" Mr. Ruskin has borne testimony, was eminent as an architectural -draughtsman and water-colour painter. With his marvellous illustrations of -"Master Humphrey's Clock" all the world is familiar. _Dict. of Nat. Biog._ -art. "George Cattermole." His brother Richard was Secretary of the Royal -Society of Literature, of which Coleridge was appointed a Royal Associate -in 1825. Copies of this and of other letters from Coleridge to Cattermole -were kindly placed at my disposal by Mr. James M. Menzies of 24, Carlton -Hill, St. John's Wood. - -[206] Harriet Macklin, Coleridge's faithful attendant for the last seven -or eight years of his life. On his deathbed he left a solemn request in -writing that his family should make a due acknowledgment of her services. -It was to her that Lamb, when he visited Highgate after Coleridge's death, -made a present of five guineas. - -[207] Dr. Chalmers represented the visit as having lasted three hours, and -that during that "stricken" period he only got occasional glimpses of what -the prophet "would be at." His little daughter, however, was so moved by -the "mellifluous flow of discourse" that, when "the music ceased, her -overwrought feelings found relief in tears." _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a -Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, p. 260, footnote. - -[208] A disciple and amanuensis, to whom, it is believed, he dictated two -quarto volumes on "The History of Logic" and "The Elements of Logic," -which originally belonged to Joseph Henry Green, and are now in the -possession of Mr. C. A. Ward of Chingford Hatch. _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, -a Narrative_, by J. Dykes Campbell, 1894, pp. 250, 251; _Athenæum_, July -1, 1893, art. "Coleridge's Logic." - -[209] Henry Nelson Coleridge, 1798-1843, was the fifth son of Colonel -James Coleridge of Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary. His marriage with the -poet's daughter took place on September 3, 1829. He was the author of _Six -Months in the West Indies_, 1825, and an _Introduction to the Study of the -Greek Poets_, 1830. He practised as a chancery barrister and won -distinction in his profession. The later years of his life were devoted to -the reëditing of his uncle's published works, and to throwing into a -connected shape the literary as distinguished from the philosophical -section of his unpublished MSS. The _Table Talk_, the best known of -Coleridge's prose works, appeared in 1835. Four volumes of _Literary -Remains_, including the "Lectures on Shakespeare and other Dramatists," -were issued 1836-1839. The third edition of _The Friend_, 1837, the -_Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit_, 1840, and the fifth edition of _Aids -to Reflection_, 1843, followed in succession. The second edition of the -_Biographia Literaria_, which "he had prepared in part," was published by -his widow in 1847. - -A close study of the original documents which were at my uncle's disposal -enables me to bear testimony to his editorial skill, to his insight, his -unwearied industry, his faithfulness. Of the charm of his appearance, and -the brilliance of his conversation, I have heard those who knew him speak -with enthusiasm. He died, from an affection of the spine, in January, -1843. - -[210] This lady was for many years governess in the family of Dr. Crompton -of Eaton Hall, near Liverpool. _Memoirs and Letters of Sara Coleridge_, -London, 1873, i. 8 109-116. - -[211] Sir William Rowan Hamilton, 1805-1865, the great mathematician, was -at this time Professor of Astronomy at Dublin. He was afterwards appointed -Astronomer Royal of Ireland. He was, as is well known, a man of culture -and a poet; and it was partly to ascertain his views on scientific -questions, and partly to interest him in his verses, that Hamilton was -anxious to be made known to Coleridge. He had begun a correspondence with -Wordsworth as early as 1827, and Wordsworth, on the occasion of his tour -in Ireland in 1829, visited Hamilton at the Observatory. Miss Lawrence's -introduction led to an interview, but a letter which Hamilton wrote to -Coleridge in the spring of 1832 remained unanswered. In a second letter, -dated February 3, 1833, he speaks of a "Lecture on Astronomy" which he -forwards for Coleridge's acceptance, and also of "some love-poems to a -lady to whom I am shortly to be married." The love-poems, eight sonnets, -which are smoothly turned and are charming enough, have survived, but the -lecture has disappeared. The interest of this remarkable letter lies in -the double appeal to Coleridge as a scientific authority and a literary -critic. Coleridge's reply, if reply there was, would be read with peculiar -interest. In a letter to Mr. Aubrey de Vere, May 28, 1832, he thus records -his impressions of Coleridge: "Coleridge is rather to be considered as a -Faculty than as a Mind; and I did so consider him. I seemed rather to -listen to an oracular voice, to be circumfused in a Divine [Greek: omphê], -than--as in the presence of Wordsworth--to hold commune with an exalted -man." _Life of W. Wordsworth_, iii. 157-174, 210, etc. - -[212] He is referring to a final effort to give up the use of opium -altogether. It is needless to say that, after a trial of some duration, -the attempt was found to be impracticable. It has been strenuously denied, -as though it had been falsely asserted, that under the Gillmans' care -Coleridge overcame the habit of taking laudanum in more or less unusual -quantities. Gillman, while he maintains that his patient in the use of -narcotics satisfied the claims of duty, makes no such statement; and the -confessions or outpourings from the later note-books which are included in -the _Life_ point to a different conclusion. That after his settlement at -Highgate, in 1816, the habit was regulated and brought under control, and -that this change for the better was due to the Gillmans' care and to his -own ever-renewed efforts to be free, none can gainsay. There was a moral -struggle, and into that "sore agony" it would be presumption to intrude; -but to a moral victory Coleridge laid no claim. And, at the last, it was -"mercy," not "praise," for which he pleaded. - -[213] The notes on Asgill's Treatises were printed in the _Literary -Remains, Coleridge's Works_, 1853, v. 545-550, and in _Notes Theological -and Political_, London, 1853, pp. 103-109. - -[214] Admirers of Dr. Magee, 1765-1831, who was successively Bishop of -Raphoe, 1819, and Archbishop of Dublin, 1822. He was the author of -_Discourses on the Scriptural Doctrines of the Atonement_. He was -grandfather of the late Archbishop of York, better known as Bishop of -Peterborough. - -[215] I am indebted to Mr. John Henry Steinmetz, a younger brother of -Coleridge's friend and ardent disciple, for a copy of this letter. It was -addressed, he informs me, to his brother's friend, the late Mr. John -Peirse Kennard, of Hordle Cliff, Hants, father of the late Sir John -Coleridge Kennard, Bart., M. P. for Salisbury, and of Mr. Adam Steinmetz -Kennard, of Crawley Court Hants, at whose baptism the poet was present, -and to whom he addressed the well-known letter (Letter CCLX.), "To my -Godchild, Adam Steinmetz Kennard." - -[216] See _Table Talk_, August 14, 1832. - -[217] So, too, of Keats. See _Table Talk_, etc., Bell & Sons. 1884, _Talk_ -for August 14, 1832. _Table_ p. 179. - -[218] "The sot would reject the poisoned cup, yet the trembling-hand with -which he raises his daily or hourly draught to his lips has not left him -ignorant that this, too, is altogether a poison." _The Friend_, Essay -xiv.; _Coleridge's Works_, ii. 100. - -[219] The motto of this theme, (January 19, 1794), of which I possess a -transcript in Coleridge's handwriting, or perhaps the original copy, is-- - - Quid fas - Atque nefas tandem incipiunt sentire peractis - Criminibus. - -The theme was selected by Boyer for insertion in his _Liber Aureus_ of -school exercises in prose and verse, now in the possession of James Boyer, -Esq., of the Coopers' Company. The sentence to which Coleridge alludes ran -thus: "As if we were in some great sea-vortex, every moment we perceive -our ruin more clearly, every moment we are impelled towards it with -greater force." - -The essay was printed for the first time in the _Illustrated London News_, -April 1, 1893. - -[220] This letter, which is addressed in Coleridge's handwriting, "Mrs. -Aders, favoured by H. Gillman," and endorsed in pencil, "S. T. C.'s letter -for Miss Denman," refers to the new edition of his poetical works which -Coleridge had begun to see through the press. Apparently he had intended -that the "Epitaph" should be inscribed on the outline of a headstone, and -that this should illustrate, by way of vignette, the last page of the -volume. - -[221] Of the exact date of Sterling's first visit to Highgate there is no -record. It may, however, be taken for granted that his intimacy with -Coleridge began in 1828, when he was in his twenty-third year, and -continued until the autumn of 1833,--perhaps lasted until Coleridge's -death. Unlike Maurice, and Maurice's disciple, Kingsley, Sterling outlived -his early enthusiasm for Coleridge and his acceptance of his teaching. It -may be said, indeed, that, thanks to the genius of his second master, -Carlyle, he suggests both the reaction against and the rejection of -Coleridge. Of that rejection Carlyle, in his _Life of Sterling_, made -himself the mouth-piece. It is idle to say of that marvellous but -disillusioning presentment that it is untruthful, or exaggerated, or -unkind. It is a sketch from the life, and who can doubt that it is -lifelike? But other eyes saw another Coleridge who held them entranced. To -them he was the seer of the vision beautiful, the "priest of invisible -rites behind the veil of the senses," and to their ears his voice was of -one who brought good tidings of reconciliation and assurance. Many, too, -who cared for none of these things, were attracted to the man. Like the -wedding-guest in the _Ancient Mariner_, they stood still. No other, they -felt, was so wise, so loveable. They, too, were eye-witnesses, and their -portraiture has not been outpainted by Carlyle. Apart from any expression -of opinion, it is worth while to note that Carlyle saw Coleridge for the -last time in the spring of 1825, and that the _Life of Sterling_ was -composed more than a quarter of a century later. His opinion of the man -had, indeed, changed but little, as the notes and letters of 1824-25 -clearly testify, but his criticism of the writer was far less appreciative -than it had been in Coleridge's lifetime. The following extracts from a -letter of Sterling to Gillman, dated "Hurstmonceaux, October 9, 1834," are -evidence that his feelings towards Coleridge were at that time those of a -reverent disciple:-- - -"The Inscription [in Highgate Church] will forever be enough to put to -shame the heartless vanity of a thousand such writers as the Opium Eater. -As a portrait, or even as a hint for one, his papers seem to me worse than -useless. - -"If it is possible, I will certainly go to Highgate, and wait on Mrs. -Gillman and yourself. I have travelled the road thither with keen and -buoyant expectation, and returned with high and animating remembrances -oftener than any other in England. Hereafter, too, it will not have lost -its charm. There is not only all this world of recollection, but the -dwelling of those who best knew and best loved his work." _Life of -Sterling_, 1871, pp. 46-54; _Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a Narrative_, by J. -Dykes Campbell, pp. 259-261; British Museum, add. MS. 34,225, f. 194. - -[222] The following unpublished lines were addressed by Coleridge to this -young lady, a neighbour, I presume, and friend of the Gillmans. They must -be among the last he ever wrote:-- - -ELISA. - -TRANSLATION OF CLAUDIAN. - - _Dulcia dona mihi tu mittis semper Elisa!_ - Sweet gifts to me thou sendest always, Elisa! - - _Et quicquid mittis, Thura putare decet._ - And whatever thou sendest, Sabean odours to think it it behoves me. - -The whole adapted from an epigram of Claudius by substituting _Thura_ for -_mella_, the original distich being in return for a Present of Honey. - -IMITATION. - - Sweet Gift! and always doth Eliza send - Sweet Gifts and full of fragrance to her Friend. - Enough for Him to know they come from _Her_, - Whate'er she sends is Frankincense and Myrrh. - -Another on the same subject by S. T. C. himself:-- - - Semper, Eliza! mihi tu suaveolentia donas: - Nam quicquid donas, te redolere puto. - -Literal translation: Always, Eliza! to me things of sweet odour thou -presentest. For whatever thou presentest, I fancy redolent of thyself. - - Whate'er thou giv'st, it still is sweet to me, - For still I find it redolent of _thee_! - -[223] _Philip Van Artevelde._ - -[224] Sir Henry Taylor. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, -VOL. II (OF 2)*** - - -******* This file should be named 44554-8.txt or 44554-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/4/5/5/44554 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at - www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email -contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the -Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |