APPENDIX IV

[360]feelings1817,1829.

feelings1817,1829.

[361]authors1817,1829.

authors1817,1829.

[373]called1817,1829.

called1817,1829.

[380]all1817,1829.

all1817,1829.

[387]Roman-Catholicism] Catholicism1817,1829.

Roman-Catholicism] Catholicism1817,1829.

[393]popular1817,1829.

popular1817,1829.

[396]too severely . . . management1817,1829.

too severely . . . management1817,1829.

[397]istam . . . dispensativam1817,1829.

istam . . . dispensativam1817,1829.

[410]agglomerative1817,1829.

agglomerative1817,1829.

[416]logic] logical1817,1829.

logic] logical1817,1829.

[420]and at once whirl1817,1829.

and at once whirl1817,1829.

[422]islet] isle1829.Carlyle in theLife of John Sterling, cap. viii, quotes the last two words of the Preface. Was it from the same source that he caught up the words 'Balmy sunny islets, islets of the blest and the intelligible' which he uses to illustrate the lucid intervals in Coleridge's monologue?

islet] isle1829.

Carlyle in theLife of John Sterling, cap. viii, quotes the last two words of the Preface. Was it from the same source that he caught up the words 'Balmy sunny islets, islets of the blest and the intelligible' which he uses to illustrate the lucid intervals in Coleridge's monologue?

[436]meek . . . mercy1817,1829.

meek . . . mercy1817,1829.

[441]he . . . him1817,1829.

he . . . him1817,1829.

[450]hoping1817,1829.

hoping1817,1829.

[461]they1817,1829.

they1817,1829.

[467]culpable were the Bishops1817,1829.

culpable were the Bishops1817,1829.

[481]reformation] Revolution in 1688MS. corr. 1817.

reformation] Revolution in 1688MS. corr. 1817.

[488]bulwark1817,1829.

bulwark1817,1829.

[490]Esto Perpetua1817,1829.

Esto Perpetua1817,1829.

After490. Braving the cry. O the Vanity and self-dotage of Authors! I, yet, after a reperusal of the preceding Apol. Preface, now some 20 years since its first publication, dare deliver it as my own judgement that both in style and thought it is a work creditable to the head and heart of the Author, tho' he happens to have been the same person, only a few stone lighter and with chesnut instead of silver hair, with his Critic and Eulogist.S. T. Coleridge,May, 1829.[MS. Note in a copy of the edition of 1829, vol. i, p. 353.]

S. T. Coleridge,May, 1829.

[MS. Note in a copy of the edition of 1829, vol. i, p. 353.]

[Videante, p. 409.]

Why is my Love like the Sun?

1. The Dawn = the presentiment of my Love.

No voice as yet had made the airBe music with thy name: yet whyThat obscure [overaching] Hope: that yearning Sigh?That sense of Promise everywhere?Beloved! flew thy spirit by?

2. The Sunrise = the suddenness, the all-at-once of Love—and the first silence—the beams of Light fall first on the distance, the interspace still dark.

3. The Cheerful Morning—the established Day-light universal.

4. The Sunset—who can behold it, and think of the Sun-rise? It takes all the thought to itself. The Moon-reflected Light—soft, melancholy, warmthless—the absolute purity (nay, it is alwayspure, but), the incorporeity of Love in absence—Loveper seis a Potassium—it can subsist by itself, tho' in presence it has a natural and necessary combination with the comburent principle. All other Lights (the fixed Stars) not borrowed from the absent Sun—Lights for other worlds, not for me. I see them and admire, but they irradiate nothing.

[Videante, pp. 426,919,920.]

On the sky with liquid openings of Blue,The slanting pillar of sun mist,Field-inward flew a little Bird.Pois'd himself on the column,Sang with a sweet and marvellous voice,5Adieu! adieu!I must away, Far, far away,Set off to-day.

Listened—listened—gaz'd—Sight of a Bird, sound of a voice—10It was so well with me, and yet so strange.Heart! Heart!Swell'st thou with joy or smart?But the Bird went away—Adieu! adieu!15

All cloudy the heavens falling and falling—Then said I—Ah! summer again—The swallow, the summer-bird is going,And so will my Beauty fall like the leavesFrom my pining for his absence,20And so will his Love fly away.Away! away!Like the summer-bird,Swift as the Day.

But lo! again came the slanting sun-shaft,25Close by me pois'd on its wing,The sweet Bird sang again,And looking on my tearful FaceDid it not say,'Love has arisen,30True Love makes its summer,In the Heart'?

1845

Notebook No. 29, p. 168.

21 Feb. 1825.

My Dear Friend

I have often amused myself with the thought of a self-conscious Looking-glass, and the various metaphorical applications of such a fancy—and this morning it struck across the Eolian Harp of my Brain that there was something pleasing and emblematic (of what I did not distinctly make out) in two such Looking-glasses fronting, each seeing the other in itself, and itself in the other. Have you ever noticed the Vault or snug little Apartment which the Spider spins and weaves for itself, by spiral threads round and round, and sometimes with strait lines, so that its lurking parlour or withdrawing-room is an oblong square? This too connected itself in my mind with the melancholy truth, that as we grow older, the World (alas! how often it happens that the less we love it, the more we care for it, the less reason we have to value its Shews, the more anxious are we about them—alas! how often do we become more and more loveless, as Love which can outlive all change save a change with regard to itself, and all loss save the loss of itsReflex, is more needed to sooth us and alone is able so to do!) What was I saying? O, I was adverting to the fact that as we advance in years, the World, that spidery Witch, spins its threads narrower and narrower, still closing on us, till at last it shuts us up within four walls, walls of flues and films, windowless—and well if there be sky-lights, and a small opening left for the Light from above. I do not know that I have anything to add, except to remind you, thatpheerorphereforMate,Companion,Counterpart, is a word frequently used by Spencer (sic) and Herbert, and the Poets generally, who wrote before the Restoration (1660), before I say that this premature warm and sunny day, antedating Spring, called forth the following.

Strain in the manner ofG. Herbert, which might be entitledThe Alone Most Dear: a Complaint of Jacob to Rachel as in the tenth year of her service he saw in her orfanciedthat he saw symptoms of Alienation.N.B. The Thoughts and Images being modernized and turned into English.

Jacob Hodiernus.

Ah! me!!

Call the World spider: and at fancy's touchThought becomes image and I see it such.With viscous masonry of films and threadsTough as the nets in Indian Forests foundIt blends the Waller's and the Weaver's tradesAnd soon the tent-like Hangings touch the groundA dusky chamber that excludes the dayBut cease the prelude and resume the lay

[1111:1]Literallyrendered is Flower Fadeless, or never-fading, from the Greek anotand marainō to wither.

[1111:2]Mate, Counterpart.

Note to Line 34 of theJoan of ArcBook II. 1796, pp. 41, 42.

Line 34. Sir Isaac Newton at the end of the last edition of his Optics supposes that a very subtile and elastic fluid, which he calls aether, is diffused thro' the pores of gross bodies, as well as thro' the open spaces that are void of gross matter: he supposes it to pierce all bodies, and to touch their least particles, acting on them with a force proportional to their number or to the matter of the body on which it acts. He supposes likewise, that it is rarer in the pores of bodies than in open spaces, and even rarer in small pores and dense bodies, than in large pores and rare bodies; and also that its density increases in receding from gross matter; so for instance as to be greater at the 1/100 of an inch from the surface of any body, than at its surface; and so on. To the action of this aether he ascribes the attractions of gravitation and cohœsion, the attraction and repulsion of electrical bodies, the mutual influences of bodies and light upon each other, the effects and communication of heat, and the performance of animal sensation and motion. David Hartley, from whom this account of aether is chiefly borrowed, makes it the instrument of propagating those vibrations or configurative motions which are ideas. It appears to me, no hypothesis ever involved so many contradictions; for how can the same fluid be both dense and rare in the same body at one time? Yet in the Earth as gravitating to the Moon, it must be very rare; and in the Earth as gravitating to the Sun, it must be very dense. For as Andrew Baxter well observes, it doth not appear sufficient to account how the fluid may act with a force proportional to the body to which another is impelled, to assert that it is rarer in great bodies than in small ones; it must be further asserted that this fluid is rarer or denser in the same body, whether small or great, according as the body to which that is impelled is itself small or great. But whatever may be the solidity of this objection, the following seems unanswerable:

If every particle thro' the whole solidity of a heavy body receive its impulse from the particles of this fluid, it should seem that the fluid itself must be as dense as the very densest heavy body, gold for instance; there being as many impinging particles in the one, as there are gravitating particles in the other which receive their gravitation by being impinged upon: so that, throwing gold or any heavy body upward, against the impulse of this fluid, would be like throwing goldthro'gold; and as this aether must be equally diffused over the whole sphere of its activity, it must be as dense when it impels cork as when it impels gold, so that to throw a piece of cork upward, would be as if we endeavoured to make cork penetrate a medium as dense as gold; and tho' we were to adopt the extravagant opinions which have been advanced concerning the progression of pores, yet however porous we suppose a body, if it be not all pore, the argument holds equally, the fluid must be as dense as the body in order to give every particle its impulse.

It has been asserted that Sir Isaac Newton's philosophy leads in its consequences to Atheism: perhaps not without reason. For if matter, by any powers or propertiesgivento it, can produce the order of the visible world and even generate thought; why may it not have possessed such properties byinherentright? and where is the necessity of a God? matter is according to the mechanic philosophy capable of acting most wisely and most beneficently without Wisdom orBenevolence; and what more does the Atheist assert? if matter possess those properties, why might it not have possessed them from all eternity? Sir Isaac Newton's Deity seems to be alternately operose and indolent; to have delegated so much power as to make it inconceivable what he can have reserved. He is dethroned by Vice-regent second causes.

We seem placed here to acquire a knowledge ofeffects. Whenever we would pierce into theAdytaof Causation, we bewilder ourselves; and all that laborious Conjecture can do, is to fill up the gaps of imagination. We are restless, becauseinvisiblethings are not the objects of vision—and philosophical systems, for the most part, are received not for their Truth, but in proportion as they attribute to Causes a susceptibility of beingseen, whenever our visual organs shall have become sufficiently powerful.

[Videante, p. 160.]

My Dear Friend—

Soon after the commencement of this month, the Editor of the Cambridge Intelligencer (a newspaper conducted with so much ability, and such unmixed and fearless zeal for the interests of Piety and Freedom, that I cannot but think my poetry honoured by being permitted to appear in it) requested me, by Letter, to furnish him with some Lines for the last day of this Year. I promised him that I would make the attempt; but almost immediately after, a rheumatic complaint seized on my head, and continued to prevent the possibility of poetic composition till within the last three days. So in the course of the last three days the following Ode was produced. In general, when an Author informs the Public that his production was struck off in a great hurry, he offers an insult, not an excuse. But I trust that the present case is an exception, and that the peculiar circumstances which obliged me to write with such unusual rapidity give a propriety to my professions of it:nec nunc eam apud te jacto, sed et ceteris indico; ne quis asperiore limâ carmen examinet, et a confuso scriptum et quod frigidum erat ni statim traderem.[1113:2](I avail myself of the words of Statius, and hope that I shall likewise be able to say of any weightier publication, whathehas declared of his Thebaid, that it had been tortured[1113:3]with a laborious Polish.)

For me to discuss theliterarymerits of this hasty composition were idle and presumptuous. If it be found to possess that impetuosity of Transition, and that Precipitation of Fancy and Feeling, which aretheessentialexcellencies of the sublimer Ode, its deficiency in less important respects will be easily pardoned by those from whom alone praise could give me pleasure: and whose minuter criticisms will be disarmed by the reflection, that these Lines were conceived 'not in the soft obscurities of Retirement, or under the Shelter of Academic Groves, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow'.[1114:1]I am more anxious lest themoralspirit of the Ode should be mistaken. You, I am sure, will not fail to recollect that among the Ancients, the Bard and the Prophet were one and the same character; and youknow, that although I prophesy curses, I pray fervently for blessings. Farewell, Brother of my Soul!

——O ever found the same,And trusted and belov'd![1114:2]

Never without an emotion of honest pride do I subscribe myself

Your grateful and affectionate friend,

S. T. Coleridge.

Bristol,December 26, 1796.

[1113:1]Published 4to, 1796: reprinted inP. and D. W., 1877, i. 165-8.

[1113:2]The quotation is from an apology addressed 'Meliori suo', prefixed to the Second Book of theSilvae:—'nec nunc eam (sc.celeritatem) apud te jacto qui nosti: sed et caeteris indico, ne quis asperiore limâ carmen examinet et a confuso scriptum, et dolenti datum cum paene sint supervacua sint tarda solatia.' Coleridge has 'adapted' the words of Statius to point his own moral.

[1113:3]Multâ cruciata limâ[S. T. C.] [Silv.lib. iv. 7, 26.]

[1114:1]From Dr. Johnson's Preface to theDictionary of the English Language.Works, 1806, ii. 59.

[1114:2]Akenside'sPleasures of the Imagination(Second Version), Bk. I.

[Videante, p. 519.]

In this sketch of a tragedy, all is imperfect, and much obscure. Among other equally great defects (millstones round the slender neck of its merits) it presupposes a long story; and this long story, which yet is necessary to the complete understanding of the play, is not half told. Albert had sent a letter informing his family that he should arrive about such a time by ship; he was shipwrecked; and wrote a private letter to Osorio, informing him alone of this accident, that he might not shock Maria. Osorio destroyed the letter, and sent assassins to meet Albert. . . Worse than all, the growth of Osorio's character is nowhere explained—and yet I had most clear and psychologically accurate ideas of the whole of it. . . A man, who from constitutional calmness of appetites, is seduced into pride and the love of power, by these into misanthropism, or rather a contempt of mankind, and from thence, by the co-operation of envy, and a curiously modified love for a beautiful female (which is nowhere developed in the play), into a most atrocious guilt. A man who is in truth a weak man, yet always duping himself into the belief that he has a soul of iron. Such were some of my leading ideas.

In short the thing is but an embryo, and whilst it remains in manuscript, which it is destined to do, the critic would judge unjustly who should call it a miscarriage. It furnished me with a most important lesson, namely, that to have conceived strongly, does not always imply the power of successful execution. S. T. C.

[FromEarly Years and Late Reflections, by Clement Carlyon, M.D., 1856, i. 143-4.]

For a critical study of Coleridge's alterations in the text of the quotations from seventeenth-century poets, which were inserted in theBiographia Literaria(2 vols., 1817), or were prefixed as mottoes to Chapters in the rifacimento ofThe Friend(3 vols., 1818), see an article by J. D Campbell entitled 'Coleridge's Quotations,' which was published in theAthenæum, August 20, 1892, and 'Adaptations',P. W., 1893, pp. 471-4. Most of these textual alterations or garblings were noted by H. N. Coleridge in an edition ofThe Friendpublished in 1837; Mr. Campbell was the first to collect and include the mottoes and quotations in a sub-section of Coleridge's Poetical Works. Three poems, (1) 'An Elegy Imitated from Akenside', (2) 'Farewell to Love ', (3) 'Mutual Passion altered and modernized from an Old Poet', may be reckoned as 'Adaptations'. The first and third of these composite productions lay no claim to originality, whilst the second, 'Farewell to Love', which he published anonymously inThe Courier, September 27, 1806, was not included by Coleridge inSibylline Leaves, or in 1828, 1829, 1834. For (1) videante, p. 69, andpost,Read:—p.1123; for (2)ante, p. 402; and for (3) videpost, p.1118.

God and the World they worship still together,Draw not their lawes to him, but his to theirs,Untrue to both, so prosperous in neither,Amid their owne desires still raising feares;'Unwise, as all distracted powers be;5Strangers to God, fooles in humanitie.'Too good for great things, and too great for good;Their Princes serve their Priest, &c.

Too good for great things, and too great for good;Their Princes serve their Priest, &c.

A Treatie of Warres, st. lxvi-vii.

God and the Worldweworship still together,Draw notourLaws to Him, butHisto ours;Untrue to both, so prosperous in neither,The imperfect Will brings forth but barren Flowers!Unwise as all distractedInterestsbe,5Strangers to God, fools in Humanity:Too good for great things and too great for good,While still'I dare not' waits upon 'I wou'd'!

S. T. C.

The same quotation from Lord Brooke is used to illustrate Aphorism xvii, 'Inconsistency,'Aids to Reflection, 1825, p. 93 (with the word 'both', substituted for 'still' in line 1). Line 8 is fromMacbeth, Act I, Sc.vii, 'Letting I dare not,' &c. The reference to Lord Brooke was first given inN. and Q., Series VIII, Vol. ii, p. 18.

[Videante, p. 403]

TheAugurswe of all the world admir'dFlatter'd by Consulls, honour'd by the State,Because the event of all that was desir'dThey seem'd to know, and keepe the books of Fate:Yet though abroad they thus did boast their wit,5Alone among themselves they scornèd it.Mankind that with his wit doth gild his heartStrong in his Passions, but in Goodnesse weake,Making great vices o're the lesse an Art,Breeds wonder, and mouves Ignorance to speake,10Yet when his fame is to the highest borne,We know enough to laugh his praise to scorne.

Mankind that with his wit doth gild his heartStrong in his Passions, but in Goodnesse weake,Making great vices o're the lesse an Art,Breeds wonder, and mouves Ignorance to speake,10Yet when his fame is to the highest borne,We know enough to laugh his praise to scorne.

Lines on a King and Emperor-Making-King altered from the 93rd Sonnet of Fulke Greville, the friend of Sir Philip Sydney.

ll. 1-4 The augurs, &c.

l. 5Abroad they thus did boast each other'swit.

l. 7Behold yon Corsican with dropsied heart

l. 9He wonder breeds, makesignorance to speak

l. 12Talleyrand willlaugh his Creature'spraise to scorn.

First published in theCourier, Sept. 12, 1806. See Editor's note,Athenæum, April 25, 1903, p. 531.

For onely that man understands indeed,And well remembers, which he well can doe,The Laws live, onely where the Law doth breedObedience to the workes it bindes us to:And as the life of Wisedome hath exprest,If this ye know, then doe it, and be blest.

Lord Brooke.

Motto toNotes on a Barrister's Hints on Evangelical Preaching, 1810, inLit. Rem., 1839, iv. 320.

ll. 2, 3

Whowell rememberswhathe well can do;TheFaithlives only where thefaithdoth breed.

(Sect. iv. Stanzas 12-14.)

Doubtless, this could not be, but that she turnsBodies to spirits, by sublimation strange;As fire converts to fire the things it burns;As we our meats into our nature change.

From their gross matter she abstracts the forms,5And draws a kind of quintessence from things;Which to her proper nature she transforms,To bear them light, on her celestial wings.This doth she, when, from things particular,She doth abstract the universal kinds,10Which bodiless and immaterial are,And can be only lodg'd within our minds.

From their gross matter she abstracts the forms,5And draws a kind of quintessence from things;Which to her proper nature she transforms,To bear them light, on her celestial wings.

This doth she, when, from things particular,She doth abstract the universal kinds,10Which bodiless and immaterial are,And can be only lodg'd within our minds.

Stanza 12 Doubtless, &c.

l. 2 Bodies tospirit, &c.

l. 4. As we ourfood, &c.

Stanza 13, l. 1 From their gross matter she abstractstheirforms.

Stanza 14

Thus doth she, when from individual statesShe doth abstract the universal kinds;Which then re-clothed in divers names andfatesSteal access through our senses to ourminds.

Biog. Lit., Cap. xiv, 1817, II, 12; 1847, II, Cap. i, pp. 14-15. The alteration was first noted in 1847.

So reclused Hermits oftentimes do knowMore of Heaven's glory than a worldly can:As Man is of the World, the Heart of ManIs an Epitome of God's great BookOf Creatures, and Men need no further look.

These lines are quoted by Coleridge inThe Friend, 1818, i. 192; 1850, i. 147. The first two lines run thus:

TherecluseHermit oft'timesmore dothknowOf the world's inmost wheels, than worldlings can, &c.

The alteration was first pointed out in an edition ofThe Friendissued by H. N. Coleridge in 1837.

Stanzas II, III, IV, and a few words from Stanza V, are prefixed as the motto to Essay XV ofThe Friend, 1818, i. 179; 1850, i. 136.

For Stanza II, line 3—

But he which dwells there is not so; for heWith himwho dwells there 'tis not so; for he

For Stanza III—

So had your body her morning, hath her noon,And shall not better, her next change is night:But her fair larger guest, t'whom sun and moonAre sparks, and short liv'd, claims another right.—

The motto reads:

Our bodies had theirmorning, have their noon,And shall not better—the next change is night,Buttheirfair larger guest, t'whom sun and moonAre sparks and short liv'd, claims another right.

The alteration was first noted in 1837. In 1850 line 3 of Stanza III 'fair' is misprinted 'far'.

I love, and he loves me again,Yet dare I not tell who;For if the nymphs should know my swain,I fear they'd love him too;Yet if it be not known,5The pleasure is as good as none,For that's a narrow joy is but our own.I'll tell, that if they be not glad,They yet may envy me;But then if I grow jealous mad,10And of them pitied be,It were a plague 'bove scorn,And yet it cannot be forborne,Unless my heart would, as my thought, be torn.He is, if they can find him, fair,15And fresh and fragrant too,As summer's sky or purged air,And looks as lilies doThat are this morning blown;Yet, yet I doubt he is not known,20And fear much more, that more of him be shown.But he hath eyes so round and bright,As make away my doubt,Where Love may all his torches lightThough hate had put them out;25But then, t'increase my fears,What nymph soe'er his voice but hears,Will be my rival, though she have but ears.I'll tell no more, and yet I love,And he loves me; yet no30One unbecoming thought doth moveFrom either heart, I know;But so exempt from blame,As it would be to each a fame,If love or fear would let me tell his name.35

I'll tell, that if they be not glad,They yet may envy me;But then if I grow jealous mad,10And of them pitied be,It were a plague 'bove scorn,And yet it cannot be forborne,Unless my heart would, as my thought, be torn.

He is, if they can find him, fair,15And fresh and fragrant too,As summer's sky or purged air,And looks as lilies doThat are this morning blown;Yet, yet I doubt he is not known,20And fear much more, that more of him be shown.

But he hath eyes so round and bright,As make away my doubt,Where Love may all his torches lightThough hate had put them out;25But then, t'increase my fears,What nymph soe'er his voice but hears,Will be my rival, though she have but ears.

I'll tell no more, and yet I love,And he loves me; yet no30One unbecoming thought doth moveFrom either heart, I know;But so exempt from blame,As it would be to each a fame,If love or fear would let me tell his name.35

UnderwoodsNo. V.

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