Some weeks after, Mr. Coleridge called on me; when, in the course of
conversation, he entered into some observations on his own character,
that made him appear unusually amiable. He said that he was naturally
very arrogant; that it was his easily besetting sin; a state of mind
which he ascribed to the severe subjection to which he had been exposed,
till he was fourteen years of age, and from which, his own consciousness
of superiority made him revolt. He then stated that he had renounced all
his Unitarian sentiments; that he considered Unitarianism as a heresy of
the worst description; attempting in vain, to reconcile sin and holiness;
the world and heaven; opposing the whole spirit of the Bible; and
subversive of all that truly constituted christianity. At this interview
he professed his deepest conviction of the truth of Revelation; of the
Fall of Man; of the Divinity of Christ, and redemption alone through his
blood. To hear these sentiments so explicitly avowed, gave me unspeakable
pleasure, and formed a new, and unexpected, and stronger bond of union.
A long and highly interesting theological conversation; followed, in
which Mr. C. proved, that, however weak his body, the intellectual vigour
of his mind was unimpaired. He exhibited, also, more sobriety of manner
than I had before noticed in him, with an improved and impressive
maturity in his reflections, expressed in his happiest language; and
which, could it have been accurately recorded, would have adorned the
most splendid of his pages;--so rare and pre-eminent was the powerful and
spontaneous utterance with which this gifted son of genius was endowed.
Mr. Coleridge, at his next visit, related to me some of his Italian
adventures; one or two of which I here introduce.
After quitting Malta, he had landed in Sicily, and visited Etna; his
ascent up whose side, to the crater, he graphically described, with some
striking features; but as this is a subject proverbially enlarged upon by
all travellers, I waive further notice, and proceed to state, that Mr. C.
after leaving Sicily passed over to the south of Italy, and journeyed on
to Rome.
Shortly after Mr. Coleridge had arrived in this city, he attracted some
notice amongst the literati, as an English "Man of Letters." Cardinal
Fesch, in particular, was civil, and sought his company; but that which
was more remarkable, Jerome Buonaparte was then a resident at Rome, and
Mr. C.'s reputation becoming known to him, he sent for him, and after
showing him his palace, pictures, &c. thus generously addressed him:
"Sir, I have sent for you to give you a little candid advice. I do not
know that you have said, or written anything against my brother Napoleon,
but as an Englishman, the supposition is not unreasonable. If you have,
my advice is, that you leave Italy as soon as you possibly can!"
This hint was gratefully received, and Mr. Coleridge soon after quitted
Rome, in the suite of Cardinal Fesch. From his anxiety to reach England,
he proceeded to Leghorn, where a circumstance occurred which will excite
every reader's sympathy. Mr. Coleridge had journeyed to this port, where
he rather hoped, than expected to find some conveyance, through the
medium of a neutral, that should waft him to the land, "more prised than
ever." The hope proved delusive. The war was now raging between England
and France, and Buonaparte being lord of the ascendant in Italy, Mr.
Coleridge's situation became insecure, and even perilous. To obtain a
passport was impossible; and as Mr. C. had formerly rendered himself
obnoxious to the great Captain by some political papers, he was in daily
and hourly expectation of being incarcerated in an Italian prison, which
would have been the infallible road to death!
In half despair of ever again seeing his family and friends, and under
the constant dread of apprehension by the emissaries of the Tuscan
government, or French spies; he went out one morning to look at some
ruins in the neighbourhood of Leghorn, in a state of despondency, where,
certainty, however terrible, would have been almost preferable to
suspense. While musing on the ravages of time, he turned his eye, and
observed at a little distance, a seafaring looking man, musing in
silence, like himself, on the waste around. Mr. Coleridge advanced
towards him, supposing, or at least deeming it possible, that he also
might be mourning his captivity, and commenced a discourse with him; when
he found that the stranger was an American captain, whose ship was then
in the harbour, and on the point of sailing for England.
This information sent joy into his heart; but he testified no emotion,
determined to obtain the captain's good will, by showing him all the
civilities in his power, as a preliminary to any future service the
captain might be disposed to render him, whether the power were united
with the disposition or not. This showed adroitness, with great knowledge
of human nature; and more winning and captivating manners than those of
Mr. C. when called forth, were never possessed by mortal! In conformity
with this almost forlorn hope, Mr. Coleridge explained to the American
captain the history of the ruin; read to him some of the half defaced
Latin and Italian inscriptions, and concluded with extolling General
Washington, and predicting the stability of the Union. The right keys,
treble and tenor, were touched at the same moment. "Pray young man," said
the captain, "who are you?" Mr. C. replied, "I am a poor unfortunate
Englishman, with a wife and family at home; but I am afraid I shall never
see them more! I have no _passport_, nor means of escape; and, to
increase my sorrow, I am in daily dread of being thrown into jail, when
those I love will not have the last pleasure of _knowing_ that I am
dead!" The captain's heart was touched. He had a wife and family at a
distance. "My young man," said he, "what is your name?" The reply was,
"Samuel Taylor Coleridge." "Poor young man," answered the captain. "You
meet me at this place to-morrow morning, exactly at ten o'clock." So
saying, the captain withdrew, Mr. C. stood musing on the singular
occurrence, in which there was something _inexplicable_. His discernment
of the stranger's character convinced him there existed no _under plot_,
but still there was a wide space between _probability_ and _certainty_.
On a balance of circumstances, he still thought _all fair_, and, at the
appointed hour, repaired to the interior of the ruins.
No captain was there; but in a few minutes he appeared, and, hastening up
to Mr. Coleridge, exclaimed exultingly, "I have got your passport!" "How!
What!" said Mr. C. almost overpowered by his feelings. "Ask me no
questions," replied the captain; "you are my _steward_, and you shall
sail away with me to-morrow morning!" He continued, giving him his
address, "You come to my house to-morrow early, when I will provide you
with a _jacket_ and _trowsers_, and you shall follow me to the ship with
a _basket of vegetables_" In short, thus accoutred, he _did_ follow the
captain to the ship the next morning; and in three hours fairly sailed
out of Leghorn harbour, triumphantly on his course to England!
As soon as the ship had cleared the port, Mr. Coleridge hastened down to
the cabin, and cried, "my dear captain, tell me how you obtained my
passport?" Said the captain, very gravely, "Why, I went to the
authorities, and _swore_ that you were an _American_, and my steward! I
_swore_ also, that I knew your father and mother; that they lived in a
red-brick house, about half a mile out of New York, on the road to
Boston!"
It is gratifying to add, that this benevolent little-scrupulous captain
refused to accept any thing from Mr. C. for his passage to England; and,
behaved in many other respects, with the same uniform kindness. During
the voyage, Mr. Coleridge told me, he was attacked with a dangerous
illness, when he thought he should have _died_, but for the "_good
captain_," who attended him with the solicitude of a father. Mr. C. also
said, had he known what the captain was going to _swear_, whatever the
consequences might have been, he would have prevented him.[82]
The following long letter will be read with interest.
"Bristol, 1807.
Dear Cottle,
To pursue our last conversation. Christians expect no outward or sensible
miracles from prayer. Its effects, and its fruitions are spiritual, and
accompanied says that _true Divine_, Archbishop Leighton, 'not by reasons
and arguments, but by an inexpressible kind of evidence, which they only
know who have it.'
To this I would add, that even those who, like me I fear, have not
attained it, yet may presume it. First, because reason itself, or rather
mere human nature, in any dispassionate moment, feels the necessity of
religion, but if this be not true there is no religion, no religation, or
binding over again; nothing added to reason, and therefore _Socinianism_,
misnamed _Unitarianism_, is not only not _Christianity_, it is not even
_religion_, it does not _religate_; does not bind anew. The first outward
and sensible result of prayer is, a penitent resolution, joined with a
consciousness of weakness in effecting it, yea even a dread, too well
grounded, lest by breaking and falsifying it, the soul should add guilt
to guilt; by the very means it has taken to escape from guilt; so
pitiable is the state of unregenerate man.
Are you familiar with Leighton's Works? He resigned his archbishoprick,
and retired to voluntary poverty on account of the persecutions of the
Presbyterians, saying, 'I should not dare to introduce christianity
itself with such cruelties, how much less for a surplice, and the name of
a bishop.' If there could be an intermediate space between inspired, and
uninspired writings, that space would be occupied by Leighton. No show of
learning, no appearance, or ostentatious display of eloquence, and yet
both may be shown in him, conspicuously and holily. There is in him
something that must be felt, even as the scriptures must be felt.
You ask me my views of the _Trinity_. I accept the doctrine, not as
deduced from human reason, in its grovelling capacity for comprehending
spiritual things, but as the clear revelation of Scripture. But perhaps
it may be said, the Socinians do not admit this doctrine as being taught
in the bible. I know enough of their shifts and quibbles, with their
dexterity at explaining away all they dislike, and that is not a little,
but though beguiled once by them, I happily for my own peace of mind,
escaped from their sophistries, and now hesitate not to affirm, that
Socinians would lose all character for honesty, if they were to explain
their neighbour's will with the same latitude of interpretation, which
they do the Scriptures.
I have in my head some floating ideas on the _Logos_, which I hope,
hereafter, to mould into a consistent form; but it is a gross perversion
of the truth, in Socinians, to declare that we believe in _three gods_;
and they know it to be false. They might, with equal justice affirm that
we believe in _three suns_. The meanest peasant, who has acquired the
first rudiments of christianity, would shrink back from a thing so
monstrous. Still the Trinity has its difficulties. It would be strange if
otherwise. A _Revelation_ that revealed nothing, not within the grasp of
human reason!--no religation, no binding over again, as before said; but
these difficulties are shadows, contrasted with the substantive and
insurmountable obstacles, with which _they_ contend who admit the _Divine
authority of Scripture_, with the _superlative excellence of Christ_, and
yet undertake to prove that these Scriptures teach, and that Christ
taught his own _pure humanity_.
If Jesus Christ was merely a man, if he was not God as well as man, be it
considered, he could not have been even a _good man_. There is no medium.
The SAVIOUR _in that case_ was absolutely _a deceiver!_ one,
transcendantly _unrighteous!_ in advancing pretensions to miracles, by
the 'Finger of God,' which he never performed; and by asserting claims,
(as a man) in the most aggravated sense, blasphemous. These consequences,
Socinians, to be consistent, must allow, and which impious arrogation of
Divinity in Christ, according to their faith, as well as his false
assumption of a community of 'glory' with the Father, 'before the world
was,' even they will be necessitated completely to admit the exoneration
of the Jews, according to their law, in crucifying one, who 'being a
man,' 'made himself God!' But in the Christian, rather than in the
_Socinian_, or _Pharisaic_ view, all these objections vanish, and harmony
succeeds to inexplicable confusion. If Socinians hesitate in ascribing
_unrighteousness_ to Christ, the inevitable result of their principles,
they tremble, as well they might, at their avowed creed, and virtually
renounce what they profess to uphold.
The Trinity, as Bishop Leighton has well remarked, is 'a doctrine of
faith, not of demonstration,' except in a _moral_ sense. If the New
Testament declare it, not in an insulated passage, but through the whole
breadth of its pages, rendering, with any other admission, the book which
is the christian's anchor-hold of hope, dark and contradictory, then it
is not to be rejected, but on a penalty that reduces to an atom, all the
sufferings this earth can inflict.
Let the grand question be determined.--Is, or is not the bible
_inspired_? No one book has ever been subjected to so rigid an
investigation as the Bible, by minds the most capacious, and in the
result, which has so triumphantly repelled all the assaults of infidels.
In the extensive intercourse which I have had with this class of men, I
have seen their prejudices surpassed only by their ignorance. This I
found particularly the case in Dr. Darwin, (p. 1-85.) the prince of their
fraternity. Without therefore, stopping to contend on what all
dispassionate men must deem undebatable ground, I may assume inspiration
as admitted; and equally so, that it would be an insult to man's
understanding, to suppose any other revelation from God than the
christian scriptures. If these Scriptures, impregnable in their strength,
sustained in their pretensions, by undeniable prophecies and miracles,
and by the experience of the _inner man_, in all ages, as well as by a
concatenation of arguments, all bearing upon one point, and extending
with miraculous consistency, through a series of fifteen hundred years;
if all this combined proof does not establish their validity, nothing can
be proved under the sun; but the world and man must be abandoned, with
all its consequences, to one universal scepticism! Under such sanctions,
therefore, if these scriptures, as a fundamental truth, _do_ inculcate
the doctrine of the _Trinity_; however surpassing human comprehension;
then I say, we are bound to admit it on the strength of _moral
demonstration_.
The supreme Governor of the world and the Father of our spirits, has seen
fit to disclose to us much of his will, and the whole of his natural and
moral perfections. In some instances he has given his _word_ only, and
demanded our _faith_; while on other momentous subjects, instead of
bestowing full revelation, like the _Via Lactea_, he has furnished a
glimpse only, through either the medium of inspiration, or by the
exercise of those rational faculties with which he has endowed us. I
consider the Trinity as substantially resting on the first proposition,
yet deriving support from the last.
I recollect when I stood on the summit of Etna, and darted my gaze down
the crater; the immediate vicinity was discernible, till, lower down,
obscurity gradually terminated in total darkness. Such figures exemplify
many truths revealed in the Bible. We pursue them, until, from the
imperfection of our faculties, we are lost in impenetrable night. All
truths, however, that are essential to faith, _honestly_ interpreted; all
that are important to human conduct, under every diversity of
circumstance, are manifest as a blazing star. The promises also of
felicity to the righteous in the future world, though the precise nature
of that felicity may not be defined, are illustrated by every image that
can swell the imagination; while the misery of the _lost_, in its
unutterable intensity, though the language that describes it is all
necessarily figurative, is there exhibited as resulting chiefly, if not
wholly, from the withdrawment of the _light of God's countenance_, and a
banishment from his _presence!_ best comprehended in this world by
reflecting on the desolations, which would instantly follow the loss of
the sun's vivifying and universally diffused _warmth_.
You, or rather _all_, should remember that some truths from their nature,
surpass the scope of man's limited powers, and stand as the criteria of
_faith_, determining by their rejection, or admission, who among the sons
of men can confide in the veracity of heaven. Those more ethereal truths,
of which the Trinity is conspicuously the chief, without being
circumstantially explained, may be faintly illustrated by material
objects. The eye of man cannot discern the satellites of Jupiter, nor
become sensible of the multitudinous stars, whose rays have never reached
our planet, and consequently garnish not the canopy of night; yet are
they the less real, because their existence lies beyond man's unassisted
gaze? The tube of the philosopher, and the _celestial telescope_,--the
unclouded visions of heaven will confirm the one class of truths, and
irradiate the other.
The _Trinity_ is a subject on which analogical reasoning may
advantageously be admitted, as furnishing, at least a glimpse of light,
and with this, for the present, we must be satisfied. Infinite Wisdom
deemed clearer manifestations inexpedient; and is man to dictate to his
Maker? I may further remark, that where we cannot behold a desirable
object distinctly, we must take the best view we can; and I think you,
and every candid enquiring mind, may derive assistance from such
reflections as the following.
Notwithstanding the arguments of Spinosa, and Des Cartes, and other
advocates of the _Material system_, or, in more appropriate language, the
_Atheistical system!_ it is admitted by all men, not prejudiced, not
biased by sceptical prepossessions, that _mind_ is distinct from
_matter_. The mind of man, however, is involved in inscrutable darkness,
(as the profoundest metaphysicians well know) and is to be estimated, if
at all, alone by an inductive process; that is, by its _effects_. Without
entering on the question, whether an extremely circumscribed portion of
the mental process, surpassing instinct, may or may not be extended to
quadrupeds, it is universally acknowledged, that the mind of man alone,
regulates all the actions of his corporeal frame. Mind, therefore, may be
regarded as a distinct genus, in the scale ascending above brutes, and
including the whole of intellectual existences; advancing from _thought_,
that mysterious thing! in its lowest form, through all the gradations of
sentient and rational beings, till it arrives at a Bacon, a Newton; and
then, when unincumbered by matter, extending its illimitable sway through
Seraph and Archangel, till we are lost in the GREAT INFINITE!
Is it not deserving of notice, as an especial subject of meditation, that
our _limbs_, in all they do or can accomplish, implicitly obey the
dictation of the _mind_? that this operating power, whatever its name,
under certain limitations, exercises a sovereign dominion not only over
our limbs, but over our intellectual pursuits? The mind of every man is
evidently the fulcrum, the moving force,--which alike regulates all his
limbs and actions: and in which example, we find a strong illustration of
the subordinate nature of mere _matter_. That alone which gives direction
to the organic parts of our nature, is wholly _mind_; and one mind if
placed over a thousand limbs, could, with undiminished ease, control and
regulate the whole.
This idea is advanced on the supposition that _one mind_ could command an
unlimited direction over any given number of _limbs_, provided they were
all connected by _joint_ and _sinew_. But suppose, through some occult
and inconceivable means, these limbs were dis-associated, as to all
material connexion; suppose, for instance, one mind with unlimited
authority, governed the operations of _two_ separate persons, would not
this substantially, be only _one person_, seeing the directing principle
was one? If the truth here contended for, be admitted, that _two
persons_, governed by _one mind_, is incontestably _one person_; the same
conclusion would be arrived at, and the proposition equally be justified,
which affirmed that, _three_, or otherwise _four_ persons, owning also
necessary and essential subjection to _one mind_, would only be so many
diversities or modifications of that _one mind_, and therefore, the
component parts virtually collapsing into _one whole_, the person would
be _one_. Let any man ask himself, whose understanding can both reason
and become the depository of truth, whether, if _one mind_ thus regulated
with absolute authority, _three_, or otherwise _four_ persons, with all
their congeries of material parts, would not these parts inert in
themselves, when subjected to one predominant mind, be in the most
logical sense, _one person_? Are ligament and exterior combination
indispensable pre-requisites to the sovereign influence of mind over
mind? or mind over matter?
But perhaps it may be said, we have no instance of one mind governing
more than one body. This may be, but the argument remains the same. With
a proud spirit, that forgets its own contracted range of thought, and
circumscribed knowledge, who is to limit the sway of Omnipotence? or
presumptuously to deny the possibility of _that_ Being, who called light
out of darkness, so to exalt the dominion of _one mind_, as to give it
absolute sway over other dependant minds, or (indifferently) over
detached, or combined portions of organized matter? But if this
superinduced quality be conferable on any order of created beings, it is
blasphemy to limit the power of God, and to deny _his_ capacity to
transfuse _his own_ Spirit, when and to whom he will.
This reasoning may now be applied in illustration of the Trinity. We are
too much in the habit of viewing our Saviour Jesus Christ, through the
medium of his body. 'A body was prepared for him,' but this body was mere
matter; as insensible in itself as every human frame when deserted by the
soul. If therefore the Spirit that was in Christ, was the Spirit of the
Father; if no thought, no vibration, no spiritual communication, or
miraculous display, existed in, or proceeded from Christ, not immediately
and consubstantially identified with Jehovah, the Great First cause; if
all these operating principles were thus derived, in consistency alone
with the conjoint divine attributes; if this Spirit of the Father ruled
and reigned in Christ as his own manifestation, then in the strictest
sense, Christ exhibited 'the Godhead bodily,' and was undeniably '_one_
with the Father;' confirmatory of the Saviour's words: 'Of myself, (my
body) I can do nothing, the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the
works.'
But though I speak of the body as inert in itself, and necessarily allied
to matter, yet this declaration must not be understood as militating
against the christian doctrine of the _resurrection of the body_. In its
grosser form, the thought is not to be admitted, for 'flesh and blood
cannot inherit the kingdom of God,' but that the body, without losing its
consciousness and individuality, may be subjected by the illimitable
power of omnipotence, to a sublimating process, so as to be rendered
compatible with spiritual association, is not opposed to reason, in its
severe abstract exercises, while in attestation of this _exhilarating
belief_, there are many remote analogies in nature exemplifying the same
truth, while it is in the strictest accordance with that final
dispensation, which must, as christians, regulate all our speculations. I
proceed now to say, that
If the postulate be thus admitted, that one mind influencing two bodies,
would only involve a diversity of operations, but in reality be one in
essence; or otherwise as an hypothetical argument, illustrative of truth,
if one preeminent mind, or spiritual subsistence, unconnected with
matter, possessed an undivided and sovereign dominion over two or more
disembodied minds, so as to become the exclusive source of all their
subtlest volitions and exercises, the _unity_, however complex the modus
of its manifestation, would be fully established; and this principle
extends to Deity itself, and shows the true sense, as I conceive, in
which Christ and the Father are one.
In continuation of this reasoning, if God who is light, the Sun of the
moral world, should in his union of infinite wisdom, power, and goodness,
and from all eternity, have ordained that an emanation from himself,--for
aught we know, an essential emanation, as light is inseparable from the
luminary of day--should not only have existed in his Son, in the fulness
of time to be united to a mortal body, but that a like emanation from
himself, also perhaps essential, should have constituted the Holy Spirit,
who, without losing his ubiquity, was more especially sent to this lower
earth, _by_ the Son, _at_ the impulse of the Father, then in the most
comprehensive sense, God, and his Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost,
are ONE. 'Three persons in one God,' and thus form the true Trinity in
Unity.
To suppose that more than one independent power, or governing mind,
exists in the whole universe, is absolute Polytheism, against which the
denunciations of all the Jewish and Christian canonical books were
directed. And if there be but ONE directing MIND, that mind is God!
operating however, in three persons, according to the direct and uniform
declarations of that inspiration which 'brought life and immortality to
light.' Yet this divine doctrine of the Trinity is to be received, not
because it is or can be clear to finite apprehension, but, in reiteration
of the argument, because the Scriptures, in their unsophisticated
interpretation expressly state it. The Trinity, therefore, from its
important aspects, and biblical prominence, is the grand article of
faith, and the foundation of the whole christian system.
Who can say, as Christ and the Holy Ghost proceeded from, and are still
one with the Father, and as all the disciples of Christ derive their
fulness from him, and, in spirit, are inviolately united to him as a
branch is to the vine, who can say, but that in one view, what was once
mysteriously separated, may as mysteriously, be re-combined, and, without
interfering with the everlasting Trinity, and the individuality of the
spiritual and seraphic orders, the Son at the consummation of all things,
deliver up his mediatorial kingdom to the Father, and God, in some
peculiar and infinitely sublime sense, become all in all! God love you,