* * * * *
But better days are arrived, and are still to come, I have had
visitations of--that I may yet be something of which those who love me
may be proud.
I cannot write that without recalling dear Poole. I have heard twice, and
written twice, and I fear by a strange fatality, one of the letters will
have missed him. Leslie[105] was here some time ago. I was very much
pleased with him. And now I will tell you what I am doing. I dedicate
three days in the week to the 'Morning Post,' and shall hereafter write,
for the far greater part, such things as will be of a permanent interest
as any thing I can hope to write; and you will shortly see a little essay
of mine, justifying the writing in a newspaper.
My comparison of the French with the Roman Empire was very favourably
received. The poetry which I have sent is merely the emptying out of my
desk. The epigrams are wretched indeed, but they answered Stewart's
purpose, better than better things. I ought not to have given any
signature to them whatsoever. I never dreamt of acknowledging, either
them, or the Ode to the 'Rain.' As to feeble expressions, and unpolished
lines--there is the rub! Indeed, my dear sir, I do value your opinion
very highly. I think your judgment in the sentiment, the imagery, the
flow of a poem, decisive; at least, if it differed from my own, and if
after frequent consideration mine remained different, it would leave me
at least perplexed. For you are a perfect electrometer in these
things--but in point of poetic diction, I am not so well satisfied that
you do not require a certain aloofness from the language of real life,
which I think deadly to poetry.
Very soon however I shall present you from the press with my opinions
full on the subject of style, both in prose and verse; and I am confident
of one thing, that I shall convince you that I have thought much and
patiently on the subject, and that I understand the whole strength of my
antagonist's cause. For I am now busy on the subject, and shall in a very
few weeks go to press with a volume on the prose writings of Hall,
Milton, and Taylor; and shall immediately follow it up with an essay on
the writings of Dr. Johnson and Gibbon, and in these two volumes I
flatter myself I shall present a fair history of English Prose. If my
life and health remain, and I do but write half as much, and as regularly
as I have done during the last six weeks, this will be finished by
January next; and I shall then put together my memorandum-book on the
subject of Poetry. In both I have endeavoured sedulously to state the
facts and the differences clearly and accurately; and my reasons for the
preference of one style to another are secondary to this.
Of this be assured, that I will never give any thing to the world in
_propriae personae_ in my own name which I have not tormented with the
file. I sometimes suspect that my foul copy would often appear to general
readers more polished than my fair copy. Many of the feeble and
colloquial expressions have been industriously substituted for others
which struck me as artificial, and not standing the test; as being
neither the language of passion, nor distinct conceptions. Dear sir,
indulge me with looking still further on in my literary life.
1 have, since my twentieth year, meditated an heroic poem on the 'Siege
of Jerusalem,' by Titus. This is the pride and the stronghold of my hope,
but I never think of it except in my best moods. The work to which I
dedicate the ensuing years of my life, is one which highly pleased
Leslie, in prospective, and my paper will not let me prattle to you about
it. I have written what you more wished me to write, all about myself.
Our climate (in the north) is inclement, and our houses not as compact as
they might be, but it is a stirring climate, and the worse the weather,
the more unceasingly entertaining are my study windows, and the month
that is to come is the glory of the year with us. A very warm bedroom I
can promise you, and one at the same time which commands the finest lake
and mountain view. If Leslie could not go abroad with you, and I could in
any way mould my manners and habits to suit you, I should of all things
like to be your companion. Good nature, an affectionate disposition, and
so thorough a sympathy with the nature of your complaint, that I should
feel no pain, not the most momentary, at being told by you what your
feelings require at the time in which they required it; this I should
bring with me. But I need not say that you may say to me,--'You don't
suit me,' without inflicting the least mortification. Of course this
letter is for your brother, as for you; but I shall write to him soon.
God bless you,
S. T. Coleridge.