There was always ‘this’ characteristic feature in his multifarious conversation — it was delicate, reverend, and courteous. The chastest ear could drink in no startling sound; the most serious believer never had his bosom ruffled by one sceptical or reckless assertion. Coleridge was eminently simple in his manner. Thinking and speaking were his delight; and he would sometimes seem, during the more fervid movements of discourse, to be abstracted from all and every thing around and about him, and to be basking in the sunny warmth of his own radiant imagination.”
The manuscript of ‘The Remorse’ was sent to Mr. Sheridan, who did not even acknowledge the receipt of the letter which accompanied the drama; he however observed to a friend, that he had received a play from Coleridge, but that there was one extraordinary line in the Cave Scene, ‘drip, drip’ — which he could not understand: “in short,” said he, “it is all dripping.” This was the only notice he took of the play; but the comment was at length repeated to the author, through the medium of a third party. The theatre falling afterwards into the hands of Lord Byron and Mr. Whitbread, his Lordship sent for Coleridge, was very kind to his brother poet, and requested that the play might be represented: this desire was complied with, and it received his support. Although Mr. Whitbread did not give it the advantage of a single new scene, yet the popularity of the play was such, that the principal actor, who had performed in it with great success, made choice of it for his benefit-night, and it brought an overflowing house.
In consequence of the interest Lord Byron took in the success of this tragedy, Coleridge was frequently in his company, and on one occasion, in my presence, his Lordship said, “Coleridge, there is one passage in your poems, I have parodied fifty times, and I hope to live long enough to parody it five hundred.” That passage I do not remember; but it may strike some reader.
In a letter of Coleridge’s to a friend, written April 10th, 1816, he thus speaks of Byron:
“If you had seen Lord Byron, you could scarcely disbelieve him — so beautiful a countenance I scarcely ever saw — his teeth so many stationary smiles — his eyes the open portals of the sun — things of light, and for light — and his forehead so ample, and yet so flexible, passing from marble smoothness into a hundred wreathes and lines and dimples correspondent to the feelings and sentiments he is uttering.”
Coleridge, in the preface to ‘The Remorse’, states that the
“tragedy was written in the summer and autumn of the year 1797, at Nether Stowey, in the county of Somerset. By whose recommendation, and of the manner in which both the play and the author were treated by the recommender, let me be permitted to relate: that I knew of its having been received only from a third person; that I could procure neither answer nor the manuscript; and that but for an accident, I should have had no copy of the work itself. That such treatment would damp a young man’s exertions may be easily conceived: there was no need of after-misrepresentation and calumny, as an additional sedative.”
Coleridge contributed many pieces to Southey’s ‘Omniana’, (all marked with an asterisk,) and was engaged in other literary pursuits; he had notwithstanding much bodily suffering. The ‘cause’ of this was the organic change slowly and gradually taking place in the structure of the heart itself. But it was so masked by other sufferings, though at times creating despondency, and was so generally overpowered by the excitement of animated conversation, as to leave its real cause undiscovered. Notwithstanding this sad state, he rolled forth volumes from a mind ever active — at times intensely so, — still he required the support of those sympathies which “free the hollow heart from paining.”
Soon after the performance of ‘The Remorse’, he retired with his kind friend, Mr. Morgan, to the village of Calne, partly to be near the Rev. W.L. Bowles, whose sonnets so much attracted his attention in early life. While residing here, he opened a communication with Mr. Gutch, a bookseller, at Bristol, and in consequence, he collected the poems published by the title of ‘The Sibylline Leaves’, and also composed the greater part of the ‘Biographia Literaria’. Here he likewise dictated to his friend, Mr. Morgan, the ‘Zapolya’, which was submitted to Mr. Douglas Kinnaird, who was then the critic for Drury Lane. — Mr. Kinnaird rejected the play, assigning some ludicrous objections to the metaphysics. The subject is alluded to by Coleridge at the end of the Biographia Literaria, and with that allusion I close the present chapter:
O we are querulous creatures! Little less
Than all things can suffice to make us happy:
And little more than nothing is enough
To make us wretched.
[Footnote 1:
Alas! for myself at least I know and feel, that wherever there is a wrong not to be forgiven, there is a grief that admits neither of cure nor comforting.
‘Private Record, 1806.’]
[Footnote 2: It appears that Mr. Alexander Macauley, the secretary, an honest and amiable man, died suddenly, without “moan or motion,” and Coleridge filled his situation till the arrival of a new secretary, appointed and confirmed by the ministers in England.]
[Footnote 3: 1805.
“For months past so incessantly employed in official tasks, subscribing, examining, administering oaths, auditing,” &c.]
[Footnote 4: April 22, 1804.
”I was reading when I was taken ill, and felt an oppression of my
breathing, and convulsive snatching in my stomach and limbs. Mrs.
Ireland noticed this laborious breathing.”]
[Footnote 5: I would fain request the reader to peruse the poem, entitled “A Tombless Epitaph,” to be found in Coleridge’s ‘Poetical Works’, 1834, page 200.]
[Footnote 6: Coleridge when asked what was the difference