In the intervening time, between the receipt of Mr. C.'s last letter, and
his calling on me, I received a note from a lady, an old friend, begging
permission to introduce to me, a clever young man of her acquaintance,
whom she even so honoured as to call "A little John Henderson;"
concerning whom, this young man wished to make inquiries. An invitation
immediately followed, and the lady introduced to me, young Mr. De
Quincey. Several interviews followed, each exhibiting his talents in a
more favourable view, till I was satisfied he would either shine in
literature, or, with steady perseverance, acquire eminence in either of
the professions.
He made many inquiries respecting John Henderson, of whose learning, and
surprising attainments, he had heard much. After conversing long on this
subject, Mr. De Q. asked me if I knew any thing of Mr. Coleridge's
pecuniary affairs. I replied, "I am afraid he is a legitimate son of
genius." He asked if I thought he would accept a hundred or two pounds. I
answered, I could not tell, but that I expected shortly to see him, when,
if he seriously desired to learn, I would ascertain what the state of his
finances was, and let him know. This he said, was his particular wish.
When Mr. Coleridge called on me, and the extended conversation had
occurred, before stated, I asked him concerning his circumstances. He
confessed that he had some present difficulties, which oppressed his
mind. He said that all the money he had received from his office in
Malta, as secretary to Sir Alexander Ball, had been expended in Italy,
and on his way home. I then told him, that a young man of fortune, who
admired his talents, had inquired of me, if I thought he would accept the
present of a hundred or two pounds, "and I now ask you," said I, "that
question, that I may return an answer." Mr. Coleridge rose from his seat.
He appeared much oppressed, and agitated, and, after a short silence, he
turned to me, and said. "Cottle I will write to you. We will change the
subject." The next day I received from Mr. C. the following letter.
"My dear Cottle,
Independent of letter-writing, and a dinner engagement with C. Danvers, I
was the whole of yesterday till evening, in a most wretched restlessness
of body and limbs, having imprudently discontinued some medicines, which
are now my anchor of hope. This morning I dedicate to certain distant
calls on Dr. Beddoes and Colston, at Clifton, not so much for the calls
themselves, as for the necessity of taking brisk exercise.
But no unforeseen accident intervening, I shall spend the evening with
you from seven o'clock.
I will now express my sentiments on the important subject communicated to
you. I need not say it has been the cause of serious meditation.
Undoubtedly, calamities have so thickened on me for the last two years,
that the pecuniary pressures of the moment, are the only serious
obstacles at present to my completion of those works, which, if
completed, would make me easy. Besides these, I have reason for belief
that a Tragedy of mine will be brought on the stage this season, the
result of which is of course only one of the possibilities of life, on
which I am not fool enough to calculate.
Finally therefore, if you know that any unknown benefactor is in such
circumstances, that, in doing what he offers to do, he transgresses no
duty of morals, or of moral prudence, and does not do that from feeling,
which after reflection might perhaps discountenance, I shall gratefully
accept it, as an unconditional loan, which I trust I shall be able to
restore at the close of two years. This however, I shall be able to know
at the expiration of one year, and shall then beg to know the name of my
benefactor, which I should then only feel delight in knowing, when I
could present to him some substantial proof, that I have employed the
tranquillity of mind, which his kindness has enabled me to enjoy, in
sincere desires to benefit my fellow men. May God bless you.