"Keswick, November 3, 1802.
Dear Wedgewood,
It is now two hours since I received your letter; and after the necessary
consultation, Mrs. Coleridge herself is fully of opinion that to lose
time is merely to lose spirits. Accordingly I have resolved not to look
the children in the face, (the parting from whom is the downright bitter
in the thing) but to go to London by to-morrow's mail. Of course I shall
be in London, God permitting, on Saturday morning. I shall rest that day,
and the next, and proceed to Bristol by the Monday night's mail. At
Bristol I will go to _Cote-House_.[106] At all events, barring serious
illness, serious fractures, and the et cetera of serious unforeseens, I
shall be at Bristol, Tuesday noon, November 9.
You are aware that my whole knowledge of French does not extend beyond
the power of limping slowly, not without a dictionary crutch, or an easy
French book: and that as to pronunciation, all my organs of speech, from
the bottom of the Larynx to the edge of my lips, are utterly and
naturally anti-Gallican. If only I shall have been any comfort, any
alleviation to you I shall feel myself at ease--and whether you go abroad
or no, while I remain with you, it will greatly contribute to my comfort,
if I know you will have no hesitation, nor pain, in telling me what you
wish me to do, or not to do.
I regard it among the blessings of my life, that I have, never lived
among men whom I regarded as my artificial superiors: that all the
respect I have at any time paid, has been wholly to supposed goodness, or
talent. The consequence has been that I have no alarms of pride; no
_cheval de frise_ of independence. I have always lived among equals. It
never occurs to me, even for a moment, that I am otherwise. If I have
quarrelled with men, it has been as brothers, or as school-fellows
quarrel. How little any man can give me, or take from me, save in matters
of kindness and esteem, is not so much a thought or conviction with me,
or even a distinct feeling, as it is my very nature. Much as I dislike
all formal declarations of this kind, I have deemed it well to say this.
I have as strong feelings of gratitude as any man. Shame upon me if in
the sickness and the sorrow which I have had, and which have been kept
unaggravated and supportable by your kindness, and your brother's (Mr.
Josiah Wedgewood) shame upon me if I did not feel a kindness, not unmixed
with reverence towards you both. But yet I never should have had my
present impulses to be with you, and this confidence, that I may become
an occasional comfort to you, if, independently of all gratitude, I did
not thoroughly esteem you; and if I did not appear to myself to
understand the nature of your sufferings; and within the last year, in
some slight degree to have felt myself, something of the same.
Forgive me, my dear sir, if I have said too much. It is better to write
it than to say it, and I am anxious in the event of our travelling
together that you should yourself be at ease with me, even as you would
with a younger brother, to whom, from his childhood you had been in the
habit of saying, 'Do this Col.' or 'don't do that.'
All good be with you,
S. T. Coleridge.