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Ten years ago I published "Recollections of S. T. Coleridge." This work I
have revised, and embodied in the present "Reminiscences of S. T.
Coleridge, and Robert Southey." My views and motives have been explained
in the Introduction.
If some Readers should consider that there are occasional documents
introduced into the following work, too unimportant and derogatory to
legitimate biography, I would observe, that it was designed that nothing
should be admitted which was not characteristic of the individual; and
that which illustrates _character_ in a man of genius, cannot well be
esteemed trifling and deserving of rejection.--In preparing those
Reminiscences, some effort has been required. I have endeavoured to
forget the intervening space of forty or fifty years, and, as far as it
was practicable, to enter on the scenes and circumstances described with
all the feelings coincident with that distant period. My primary design
has been to elucidate the incidents referring to the early lives of the
late Mr. Coleridge and Mr. Southey: yet I purposed, in addition, to
introduce brief notices of some other remarkable characters, known in
Bristol at this time.
To account for my introduction to all the persons subsequently noticed,
it is necessary to apprise the Reader that I was a bookseller in Bristol
from the year 1791 to 1798; from the age of 21 to 28: and having imbibed
from my tutor and friend, the late John Henderson, (one of the most
extraordinary of men) some little taste for literature, I found myself,
during that period, generally surrounded by men of cultivated minds.[1]
With these preliminary remarks I shall commence the narrative.
At the close of the year 1794, a clever young man, of the Society of
Friends, of the name of Robert Lovell, who had married a Miss Fricker,
informed me that a few friends of his from Oxford and Cambridge, with
himself, were about to sail to America, and, on the banks of the
Susquehannah, to form a Social Colony, in which there was to be a
community of property, and where all that was selfish was to be
proscribed. None, he said, were to be admitted into their number, but
tried and incorruptible characters; and he felt quite assured that he and
his friends would be able to realize a state of society free from the
evils and turmoils that then agitated the world, and to present an
example of the eminence to which men might arrive under the unrestrained
influence of sound principles. He now paid me the compliment of saying
that he would be happy to include _me_ in this select assemblage who,
under a state which he called PANTISOCRACY, were, he hoped, to regenerate
the whole complexion of society; and that, not by establishing formal
laws, but by excluding all the little deteriorating passions; injustice,
"wrath, anger, clamour, and evil speaking," and thereby setting an
example of "Human Perfectibility."
Young as I was, I suspected there was an old and intractable leaven in
human nature that would effectually frustrate these airy schemes of
happiness, which had been projected in every age, and always with the
same result. At first the disclosure so confounded my understanding, that
I almost fancied myself transported to some new state of things, while
images of patriarchal and pristine felicity stood thick around, decked in
the rain-bow's colours. A moment's reflection, however, dissolved the
unsubstantial vision, when I asked him a few plain questions.
"How do you go?" said I. My young and ardent friend instantly replied,
"We freight a ship, carrying out with us ploughs, and other implements of
husbandry." The thought occurred to me, that it might be more economical
to purchase such articles in America; but not too much to discourage the
enthusiastic aspirant after happiness, I forebore all reference to the
accumulation of difficulties to be surmounted, and merely inquired who
were to compose his company? He said that only four had as yet absolutely
engaged in the enterprise; Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from Cambridge; (in
whom I understood the plan to have originated;) Robert Southey and George
Burnet, from Oxford, and himself. "Well," I replied, "when do you set
sail?" He answered, "Very shortly. I soon expect my friends from the
Universities, when all the preliminaries will be adjusted, and we shall
joyfully cross the blue waves of the Atlantic." "But," said I "to freight
a ship, and sail out in the high style of gentlemen agriculturists, will
require funds. How do you manage this?" "We all contribute what we can,"
said he, "and I shall introduce all my dear friends to you, immediately
on their arrival in Bristol."
Robert Lovell (though inexperienced, and constitutionally sanguine) was a
good specimen of the open frankness which characterizes the well-informed
members of the Society of Friends; and he excited in me an additional
interest, from a warmth of feeling, and an extent of reading, above even
the ordinary standard of the estimable class to which he belonged. He now
read me some of the MS. poems of his two unknown friends, which at once
established their genius in my estimation.[2]
My leisure having been devoted for many years to reading and composition,
and having a small volume of Poems at that time in the press, I
anticipated great pleasure from an introduction to two poets, who
superadded to talents of a high order, all the advantages arising from
learning, and a consequent familiarity with the best models of antiquity.
Independently of which, they excited an interest, and awakened a peculiar
solicitude, from their being about so soon to leave their father land,
and to depart permanently for a foreign shore.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Portrait.]
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One morning shortly after, Robert Lovell called on me, and introduced
Robert Southey. Never will the impression be effaced, produced on me by
this young man. Tall, dignified, possessing great suavity of manners; an
eye piercing, with a countenance full of genius, kindliness, and
intelligence, I gave him at once the right hand of fellowship, and to the
moment of his decease, that cordiality was never withdrawn. I had read so
much of poetry, and sympathized so much with poets in all their
eccentricities and vicissitudes, that, to see before me the realization
of a character, which in the abstract most absorbed my regards, gave me a
degree of satisfaction which it would be difficult to express.
I must now make a brief reference to George Burnet, who, in this epidemic
delusion, had given his sanction to, and embarked all his prospects in
life on this Pantisocratical scheme. He was a young man, about the age of
twenty; the son of a respectable Somersetshire farmer, who had bestowed
on him his portion, by giving him an University education as an
introduction to the Church, into which he would probably have entered but
for this his transatlantic pursuit of happiness. His talents were not
conspicuous, but his manners were unpresuming, and honesty was depicted
on his countenance. He possessed also that habitual good temper, and
those accommodating manners, which would prove a desirable accession in
any society; and it soon appeared, without indicating any disrespect,
that his was a subordinate part to act in the new drama, and not the less
valuable for its wanting splendour.
After some considerable delay, it was at length announced, that on the
coming morning Samuel Taylor Coleridge would arrive in Bristol, as the
nearest and most convenient port; and where he was to reside but a short
time before the favouring gales were to waft him and his friends across
the Atlantic. Robert Lovell at length introduced Mr. C. I instantly
descried his intellectual character; exhibiting as he did, an eye, a
brow, and a forehead, indicative of commanding genius. Interviews
succeeded, and these increased the impression of respect. Each of my new
friends read me his productions. Each accepted my invitations, and gave
me those repeated proofs of good opinion, ripening fast into esteem, that
I could not be insensible to the kindness of their manners, which, it may
truly be affirmed, infused into my heart a brotherly feeling, that more
than identified their interests with my own.
I introduced them to several intelligent friends, and their own merits
soon augmented the number, so that their acquaintance became
progressively extended, and their society coveted. Bristol was now found
a very pleasant residence; and though the ship was not engaged, nor the
least preparation made for so long a voyage, still the delights and
wide-spreading advantages of Pantisocracy formed one of their everlasting
themes of conversation; and, considering the barrenness of the subject,
it was in no common degree amusing, to hear these young enthusiasts repel
every objection to the practicability of their scheme, and magnify the
condition to which it was to introduce them; where thorns and briars
were, no doubt, to be expelled, and their couch to be strewed with down
and roses.
It will excite merely an innocent smile in the reader at the extravagance
of a youthful and ardent mind, when he learns that Robert Lovell stated
with great seriousness, that, after the minutest calculation and inquiry
among practical men, the demand on their labour would not exceed two
hours a day; that is, for the production of absolute necessaries. The
leisure still remaining, might be devoted, in convenient fractions, to
the extension of their domain, by prostrating the sturdy trees of the
forest, where "lop and top," without cost, would supply their cheerful
winter fire; and the trunks, when cut into planks, without any other
expense than their own pleasant labour, would form the sties for their
pigs, and the linnies for their cattle, and the barns for their produce;
reserving their choicest timbers for their own comfortable log-dwellings.
But after every claim that might be made on their manual labour had been
discharged, a large portion of time, would still remain for their own
individual pursuits, so that they might read, converse, and even write
books.
Cowper, in an unpublished letter now before me, says, "I know well that
publication is necessary to give an edge to the poetic turn, and that
what we produce in the closet, is never a vigorous birth, if we intend
that it should die there. For my own part I could no more amuse myself
with writing verse, if I did not print it when written, than with the
study of tactics, for which I can never have any real occasion." But our
young and ardent friends seemed to entertain a strong impression that the
mere pleasure of writing, that is, like virtue, writing for its own sake,
was all the mental and rational gratification wise men could desire.
Views and times alter, and these richly-endowed young men, in after life,
were prompt, and amongst the first to confess the fallacious schemes of
their youth; but at this time the pleasurable alone occupied their field
of vision, and confidence never stood more unencumbered with doubt.
If any difficulties were now started, and many such there were, a
profusion of words demonstrated the reasonableness of the whole design;
impressing all who heard, with the conviction that the citadel was too
strong for assault. The Mercury at these times was generally Mr.
Coleridge, who, as has been stated, ingeniously parried every adverse
argument, and after silencing his hardy disputants, announced to them
that he was about to write and publish a quarto volume in defence of
Pantisocracy, in which a variety of arguments would be advanced in
defence of his system, too subtle and recondite to comport with
conversation. It would then, he said, become manifest that he was not a
projector raw from his cloister, but a cool calculating reasoner, whose
efforts and example would secure to him and his friends the permanent
gratitude of mankind.
From the sentiments thus entertained, I shall represent Mr. Coleridge, in
the section of his days which devolves on me to exhibit, just as he was,
and that with a firm belief that by so doing, without injuring his
legitimate reputation, I shall confer an essential benefit on those to
come, who will behold in Mr. C. much to admire and imitate; and certainly
some things to regret. For it should be remembered, Mr. Coleridge, from
universal admission, possessed some of the highest mental endowments, and
many pertaining to the heart; but if a man's life be valuable, not for
the incense it consumes, but for the instruction it affords, to state
even defects, (in one like Mr. C. who can so well afford deduction
without serious loss) becomes in his biographer, not optional, but a
serious obligation.
It is proper additionally to remark, that some apology or propitiation
may be necessary toward those who regard every approximation to poverty,
not as a misfortune, but a crime. Pecuniary difficulties, especially such
as occur in early life, and not ascribable to bad conduct, reflect no
discredit on men of genius. Many of them, subsequently, surmounted their
first embarrassments by meritorious exertion; and some of our first men
(like travellers, after having successfully passed through regions of
privation and peril) delight even to recall their former discouragements,
and, without the shame that luxuriates alone in little minds,
undisguisedly to tell of seasons, indelible in their memories, when, in
the prostration of hope, the wide world appeared one desolate waste! but
they ultimately found, that these seasons of darkness, (however
tenaciously retained by memory) in better times often administer a new
and refreshing zest to present enjoyment. Despair, therefore ill becomes
one who has follies to bewail, and a God to trust in. Johnson and
Goldsmith, with numerous others, at some seasons were plunged deep in the
waters of adversity, but halcyon days awaited them: and even those sons
of merit and misfortune whose pecuniary troubles were more permanent, in
the dimness of retrospection, only stand out invested in softer hues.
Cervantes is not the less read, because the acclamations of praise were
heard by him in his abode of penury. Butler, Otway, Collins, Chatterton,
and Burns, and men like them, instead of suffering in public estimation
from the difficulties they encountered, absolutely challenge in every
generous mind an excess of interest from the very circumstances that
darkened the complexion of their earthly prospects.
In corroboration of this remark, in our own day, the son of Crabbe, who
must have cherished the deepest solicitude for his father's reputation,
has laid bare to general inspection his parent's early perplexities, by
which impartial disclosures we behold the individual in his deepest
depressions; worth enriched by trial, and greatness, by a refining
process, struggling successfully with adversity. Does the example of such
a man nobly bearing up against the pressures that surrounded him inflict
obduracy on our hearts? On the contrary, while we feelingly sympathize
with the poet, and deplore the tardy hand of deliverance, we pause only
to transfer a reflex portion of praise to him whose magnanimous conduct
has furnished so ample a scope for the tenderest emotions of our nature.
This reflection will induce me not to withhold from false delicacy,
occurrences, the disclosure of which none but the inconsiderate will
condemn; and by which all the features of Mr. Coleridge's character will
be exhibited to the inspection of the inquisitive and philosophical mind.
I proceed, therefore, to state that the solicitude I felt lest these
young and ardent geniuses should in a disastrous hour, and in their
mistaken apprehensions, commit themselves in this their desperate
undertaking, was happily dissipated by Mr. Coleridge applying for the
loan of a little cash,--to pay the voyager's freight? or passage?
No,--LODGINGS. They all lodged, at this time, at No. 48, College-Street.
Never did I lend money with such unmingled pleasure, for now I ceased to
be haunted day and night with the spectre of the ship! the ship! which
was to effect such incalculable mischief! The form of the request was the
following:
My dear Sir,
Can you conveniently lend me five pounds, as we want a little more than
four pounds to make up our lodging bill, which is indeed much higher than
we expected; seven weeks, and Burnet's lodging for twelve weeks,
amounting to eleven pounds.
Yours, affectionately,