redemption by the cross; which I could nei"ther reconcile in reason with the impassive"ness of the Divine Being, nor in my moral feelings with the sacred distinction between "things and persons, the vicarious payment of "a debt and the vicarious expiation of guilt. 66 66 66 "A more thorough revolution in my philoso'phic principles, and a deeper insight into my own heart were yet wanting. Nevertheless, I "cannot doubt, that the difference of my meta'physical notions from those of Unitarians in 'general contributed to my final re-conversion "to the whole truth in Christ; even as according "to his own confession the books of certain Pla"tonic philosophers (Libri quorundam Platoni 66 corum) commenced the rescue of St. Augus"tine's faith from the same error, aggravated by "the far darker accompaniment of the Mani"chean heresy." Perhaps it is right also to state, that no small share of his final reconversion was attributable to that zeal and powerful genius, and to his great desire that others should become sharers in his own acquirements, which he was so desirous to communicate. During his residence at the foot of Quantock, his thoughts and studies were not only directed to an enquiry into the great truths of religion, but, while he stayed at Stowey, he was in the habit of preaching often at the Unitarian Chapel at Taunton, and was greatly respected by all the better and educated classes in the neighbourhood. He spoke of Stowey with warmth and affection to the latest hours of his life. Here, as before mentioned, dwelt his friend Mr. Thomas Poole-the friend (justly so termed) to whom he alludes in his beautiful dedicatory poem to his brother the Rev. George Coleridge, and in which, when referring to himself, he says, "To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispensed 66 But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, "If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze "Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once "E'en mid the storm; then breathing subtlest damps, *Thomas Poole, Esq. These beautiful and affecting lines to his brother are dated May 26th, 1797, Nether Stowey, Somerset. In his will, dated Highgate, July 2nd, 1830, he again refers to this friend, and directs his executor to present a plain gold mourning ring to Thomas Poole, Esq., of Nether Stowey. "The Dedicatory Poem to my 'Juvenile Poems,' "and my Fears in Solitude,'* render it unnecessary to say more than what I then, in my early manhood, thought and felt, I now, a gray"headed man, still think and feel." 66 66 In this volume, dedicated to his brother, are to be found several poems in early youth and upwards, none of later date than 1796. The "Ode," he says, "on the Departing Year, was "written on the 24th, 25th, and 26th of December, “1796, and published separately on the last day * The following lines are here referred to: "And now, beloved Stowey! I behold "Thy Church-tower, and, methinks, the four huge elms 66 Clustering, which mark the mansion of my friend ; "And close behind them, hidden from my view, "Is my own lowly cottage, where my babe "And my babe's mother dwell in peace. With light "And quicken'd footsteps thitherward I tend, 66 Remembering thee, O green and silent dell! "And grateful, that by nature's quietness "And solitary musings, all my heart "Is soften'd, and made worthy to indulge "Love, and the thoughts that yearn for human kind." "Nether Stowey, "April 28th, 1798." "of that year. "The Religious Musings' were "written as early as Christmas 1794." He then was about to enter his 23rd year. The preface to this volume is a key to his opinions and feelings at that time, and which the foregoing part of this memoir is also intended to illustrate. 66 66 66 Be Compositions resembling those of the present "volume are not unfrequently condemned for “their querulous egotism. But egotism is to be "condemned only when it offends against time "and place, as in a history or epic poem. "To censure it in a monody or sonnet is almost as absurd as to dislike a circle for being round. Why then write sonnets or monodies? "cause they give me pleasure when, perhaps, nothing else could. After the more violent "emotions of sorrow, the mind demands amuse“ment, and can find it in employment alone; “but full of its late sufferings, it can endure "no employment not in some measure con"nected with them. Forcibly to turn away our "attention to general subjects is a painful and "most often an unavailing effort." 66 66 66 'But O! how grateful to a wounded heart From others' eyes bid artless sorrows flow, And raise esteem upon the base of woe.'-Shaw. "The communicativeness of our nature leads us to describe our own sorrows; in the endeavour to describe them, intellectual activity is exerted; and from intellectual activity there "results a pleasure, which is gradually associated, and mingles as a corrective, with the 'painful subject of the description. True,' (it 66 66 66 may be answered) but how are the PUBLIC in"terested in your sorrows or your description?' "We are for ever attributing personal unities to 'imaginary aggregates.-What is the PUBLIC, "but a term for a number of scattered indivi"duals? Of whom as many will be interested in "these sorrows, as have experienced the same or "similar. 'Holy be the lay Which mourning soothes the mourner on his way.' "If I could judge of others by myself, I should "not hesitate to affirm, that the most interesting 66 passages in our most interesting poems are "those in which the author developes his own "feelings. The sweet voice of Cona* never "sounds so sweetly, as when it speaks of itself; "and I should almost suspect that man of an "unkindly heart, who could read the opening of "the third book of Paradise Lost without pecu"liar emotion. By a law of nature, he, who la"bours under a strong feeling, is impelled to "seek for sympathy; but a poet's feelings are all "strong.-Quicquid amat valde amat.-Aken"side therefore speaks with philosophical accu * Ossian. |