The receipt of this letter filled me with the most poignant grief; much
for the difficulties to which Mr. C. was reduced, but still more for the
cause. In one letter, indignantly spurning the contributions of his "club
of subscribers to his poverty;" and in his next, (three days afterwards)
earnestly soliciting this assistance! The victorious bearer away of
University prizes, now bent down to the humiliating desire of keeping a
day school, for a morsel of bread! The man, whose genius has scarcely
been surpassed, proposing to "attend" scholars, "children or adults," and
to bolster up his head, at night, in "cheap lodgings!" Oppressed with
debt, contracted by expending that money on opium, which should have been
paid to his impoverished friend; and this, at a moment, when, for the
preceding dozen years, if he had called his mighty intellect into
exercise, the "world" would have been "all before him, where to choose
his place of rest." But at this time he preferred, to all things else,
the Circean chalice!
These remarks have reluctantly been forced from me; and never would they
have passed the sanctuary of my own breast, but to call on every consumer
of the narcotic poison, who fancies, perchance, that in the taking of
opium there is pleasure only and no pain, to behold in this memorable
example, the inevitable consequences, which follow that "accursed
practice!" Property consumed! health destroyed! independence bartered;
respectability undermined; family concord subverted! that peace
sacrificed, which forms so primary an ingredient in man's cup of
happiness!--a deadly war with conscience! and the very mind of the
unhappy votary, (whilst the ethereal spirit of natural affection
_generally escapes!_ despoiled of its best energies).
I venture the more readily on these reflections, from the hope of
impressing some young delinquents, who are beginning to sip the "deadly
poison;" little aware that no habit is so progressive, and that he who
begins with the little, will rapidly pass on to the much! I am also
additionally urged to these mournful disclosures, from their forming one
portion only, of Mr. Coleridge's life. It has been my unenviable lot, to
exhibit my friend in his lowest points of depression; conflicting with
unhallowed practices, and, as the certain consequence, with an accusing
conscience.
Most rejoiced should I have been, had my opportunities and acquaintance
with Mr. Coleridge continued, to have traced the gradual development into
action, of those better principles which were inherent in his mind. This
privilege is reserved for a more favoured biographer; and it now remains
only for me, in a closing remark, to state, that, had I been satisfied
that the money Mr. C. required, would have been expended in lawful
purposes, I would have supplied him, (without being an affluent man) to
the utmost of his requirements, and not by dividing the honour with
others, or receiving his writings in pledge! But, knowing that whatever
monies he received would, assuredly, be expended in opium, COMPASSION
STAYED MY HAND.
In my reply to his second letter, by "return of post," I enclosed Mr. C.
another five pounds: urged him in a kind letter, to come immediately to
Bristol, where myself and others, would do all that could be done, to
advise and assist him. I told him at the same time, that, when I declined
the business of a bookseller, I for ever quitted publishing, so that I
could not receive his MSS. valuable as they doubtless were; but I
reminded him, that as his merits were _now_ appreciated by the public,
the London booksellers would readily enter into a treaty, and remunerate
him liberally. Mr. Coleridge returned no answer to my letter; came not to
Bristol, but went in the next spring to London, as I learned indirectly:
and I now await a narrative of the latter periods of Mr. C.'s life, and
particularly the perusal of his "posthumous works," with a solicitude
surpassed by none.
I mentioned before that from my intimate knowledge of Mr. Coleridge's
sentiments and character, no doubt could be entertained by me, of its
being Mr. C.'s earnest wish, in order to exhibit to his successors the
pernicious consequences of opium, that, when called from this world, the
fullest publicity should be given to its disastrous effects on himself.
But whatever confidence existed in my own mind, it might be, I well knew,
no easy task, to inspire, with the same assurance, some of his surviving
friends; so that I have been compelled to argue the point, and to show,
to those who shrunk from such disclosures, that Mr. Coleridge's example
was intimately combined with general utility, and that none ought to
regret a faithful narration of, (unquestionably) _the great bane of his
life_, since it presented a conspicuous example, which might arrest the
attention, and operate as a warning to many others.
From a conviction of the tender ground on which I stood, and entertaining
a latent suspicion that some, whom I could wish to have pleased, would
still censure, as unjustifiable exposure, what with me was the result of
conscience; I repeat, with all these searching apprehensions, the reader
will judge what my complicated feelings must have been, of joy and
sorrow; a momentary satisfaction, succeeded by the deepest pungency of
affliction, when, (after all the preceding was written) Mr. Josiah Wade,
presented to me the following mournful and touching letter, addressed to
him by Mr. Coleridge, in the year 1814, which, whilst it relieved my mind
from so onerous a burden, fully corroborated all that I had presumed, and
all that I had affirmed. Mr. W. handed this letter to me, that it might
be made public, in conformity with his departed friend's injunction.
"Bristol, June 26th, 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 bell, 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--