xt7qjq0stw34_712 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474.dao.xml unknown archival material 1997ms474 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. W. Hugh Peal manuscript collection Samuel Taylor Coleridge bound manuscripts, An Essay: The Study of History, a Letter to H. Martin, and a Poem text 43.94 Cubic Feet 86 boxes, 4 oversize boxes, 22 items Poor-Good Peal accession no. 11453. Samuel Taylor Coleridge bound manuscripts, An Essay: The Study of History, a Letter to H. Martin, and a Poem 2017 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474/Box_7/Folder_98/Multipage2348.pdf 1791-1794 1794 1791-1794 
  Scope and Contents
  
Peal accession no. 7331. Includes a transcript of Coleridge's essay and a trascript of the letter to Henry Martin, with footnotes.
 section false xt7qjq0stw34_712 xt7qjq0stw34 A College Theme & Original Letter

By the Author of

Christabel

 

 Coleridge was born in 1772 and died in 1834.

In 1791 he entered Jesus College, Cambridge. In his
second year he left Cambridge in a fit of despondency
and enlisted in the 15th Dragoons under the name of
Silas Tomkyn Comberback or Cumberbatch. His identity
was discovered and his friends procured his discharge.
He returned to Cambridge in 1794 but never took a degree.

1796 Coleridge was 5—10 inches in height. He had a
blooming and healthy complexion; beautiful and luxuriant
hair, falling in natural curls over his shoulders and

as a lady told De Quincey, about the year of Waterloo,
simply the most perfect realization of a pastoral Streph-
on (Adonis?) that in all her life she had looked upon.

From Rowfant Catalogue, Volume 2.

 

 The Study of History preferable to the Study of Natural Phil—
osophy.

Truth is the natural aliment of the human mind, and the in—
vestigation of Truth its noblest pursuit. But of all the modes
of conveying Truth that must be the most interesting to us, which
by extending our knowledge of moral and intellectual facts makes
us more thoroughly acquainted with our own nature. The recesses
of the human heart are not to be explored by the microscopic eye
of the metaphysician, nor the labyrinths unfolded by the clue of
logical analysis. In the mirror of History only can Man contem-
plate his mental proportions. From the actions of beings similar
to himself he must infer the operations of his own passions, and
by the analogies of the Past learn to apprehend the Present and
anticipate the Future. Physical and Mathematical Truths fre—
quently lie hid in their abstruseness—- but sentiments and experi—
ments, which display the human soul, are as obvious to the under-
standing as they are delightful to the heart. Removed from the
enlarged prospects and active energies of the moral world, Science
too often produces only the jargon of technical arrangements, or
accumulates the impertinence of Academical Forms. But Society
is the historian’s School, and its-Lessons his subject. By as-
certaining the effects of Virtue and- Vice his Pages give force
to the dictates of Religion, and by exhibiting Liberty in its'

most exalted states they awaken those Germs of Freedom, which will

expand in the Breast of every rational Being, if they are not

nipped by the frosts of Prejudice, or blasted by the mildews of
Corruption. The contemplation of great characters never fails

to warm the young and generous Student into the noble attempt of
imitative Virtue, and helps to guard the mind against the impulse

of selfish passions, and the contagion of example. It is indeed on-
ly by dwelling on the sublime beauties of heroic character, that

we can discover that amazing opposition of the hateful and the

 

 lOVely in moral excellence and moral deformity, and that we can

be animated into a passion for disinterested Virtue. The effect
which almost constantly attends such a course of reading operates
on our inclinations in the strongest manner, and Virtue and Liber—
ty become the objects of a secondary worship in the delighted imag—

ination.

These Motives apply to Britons with peculiar force: while

they enjoy privileges unpossessed by other nations, it were ingrat-
itude in them to be ignorant of the illustrious characters, by
whose Virtues these privileges were attained -- patriots, who with
the sacrifice of their tenderest affections and even with the loss
of their lives have set up the banners of Liberty against Tyranny,
and made Monarchs shrink into Citizens. The history of England

is the History of Liberty -- and the Lives of a Russell and a Sid-
ney seem designed by providence to shew mankind the sublime heights,
to which Freedom may conduct them. Neglect becomes impiety when
committed against these sacred Names.

But it has been objected, that the Study of History tends to
introduce habits of Scepticism in points of the highest importance.
This however we deny -— on the contrary, the doctrines here alluded
to rest on history as their sole foundation —- it is History, in
which all the evidences for their authenticity are to be found, -—
it is History, which must make Faith Reason, and the Philosopher
a Christian. The light of History is indeed sure to expose the
Vanity of all those popular systems and prejudices, which are to
be found in every country: derived originally from fraud or super—
stition; and craftily imposed on the many to serve the interests
of a few. Hence it is, that upon the detection of any of these,
and especially of the religious kind, we see all that rage of
fierce bigots, hypocritical Zealots, and interested politicians -—
of all, whose credit or fortunes depend on the continuance of fol-

ly & ignorance among men. These indeed may tremble, while we

 

 turn over the volumes, which detect the fallacy of their claims --

for however weak and wicked Men may disguise the real nature of

things, the Dominion of Truth must at last prevail, and Philoso-

phy guided by the Torch of History will cleanse the dark and noisome:7

cave of superstitious Error! —-

 

 Dear Martin:

From Oxford to Gloucester x, to Ross, x, to Hereford, to Lee -
minster x, to Bishop's Castle x, to Montgomery, to Welchport, Llan -
villing, Llangunnog, Bala x, Druid House x, Llangollin, Wrexham xx,
Ruthin, Denbigh X, St Asaph, Holywell x, Rudland, Abergeley X, Aber-
conway x, Abber x, over a ferry to Anglesea, Beaumaris x, Amlock x,
Copper mines, Gwindu, Moel don, over a ferry to Caernavon have I
journeyed, now philosophizing with Hucks, now melancholizing by
myself, or else indulging those day-dreams of Fancy, that make
realities more gloomy. To whatever place I have affixed the mark
x, there we slept. The first part of our Tour was intensely
hot -- the roads white and dazzling seemed to undulate with heat
-— and the country bare and unhedged presented nothing but stone-
fences dreary to the Eye and scorching to the Touch. At Ross
we took up our Quarters at the King's Arms, once the House of
Mr Kyrle, the celebrated Man of Ross -— I gave the Window Shut-
ter a few Verses, which I shall add to the end of the letter.

The walk from Llangunnog to Bala over the mountains was most wild
and romantic -— there are immense and rugged Clefts in the moun-
tains; which in winter must form Cataracts most tremendous. Now
there is just enough sun-glittering water dashed down over them
to soothe, not disturb the Ear. I climbed up a precipice, on
which was a large Thorn-tree, and slept by the side of one of
them near two hours. At Bala I was apprehensive, that I had caught
the Itch from a Welch Democrat, who was charmed with my sentiments
-— he bruised my hand with a grasp of ardor, and I trembled, lest
some discontented Citizens of the animalcular Republic might have
emigrated. Shortly after, in came a Clergyman well drest, and
with him other Gentlemen. I was askbd for a public Character.

I gave, Dr Priestley -— the Clergyman whispered his Neighbour --

who, it seems, is the apothecary of the Parish (Republicans!)

 

 Accordingly when the Doctor (as they call apothecaries) was to
have given a name, "I gives a sentiment, Gemmen! May all Repub-
licans be gulloteen'd! Upstarts the Democrat. "May all Fools
be gulloteen'd -- and then you will be first! Fool, Rogue,
Traitor, Liar &c flew in each other's faces in hailstorms of Vo—
ciferation. This is nothing in Wales —— they BEE? it —-: necess—
ary vent-holes for the sulphureous Fumes of their Temper! I en—
deavoured to calm the Tempest by observing "that however differ—
ent our Political Opinions might be, the appearance of a Clergy—
man in the Company assured me, that we were all Christians ~-
though I found it rather difficult to reconcile the last sentiment
with the spirit of Christianity." "Pho!" auoth the Clergyman.
”Christianity! Why an't at Church now —— are we? The Gemmen's
Sentiment was a very good one, because it shews him to be sincere
in his principles." Welch Politics could not however prevail
over Welch Hospitality. They all shook hands with me, (except

the Parson) and said, I was an open—speaking, honest-hearted Fel—

low, tho' I was a bit of a Democrat. On our Road from Bala to

Druid House we met Brookes and Berdmore -- our rival Pedestrians,
a Gemini of Powells, were vigorously marching onward —— in a
post-chaise. Berdmore had been ill. We were not a little glad
to see each other. Llangollin is a village most romantically
situated -- but the Weather was so intensely hot, that we saw on» ‘
ly what was to be admired -— we could not admire. At Wrexham
the Tower is most magnificent —— and in the Church is a white
marble monument of Lady Middleton superior meg quidem sententig

to any thing in_Westminster Abbey. It had entirely escaped my
Memory, that Wrexham was the residence of a Miss E. Evans, a
young Lady with whom in happier days I had been in habits of frat-
ernal correspondence —— she lives with her Grandmother. As I

was standing at the Window of the Inn she passed by, and with her

to my utter astonishment her Sister, Mary Evans -— quam affliction

 

 et perdite amabam -- yea, even to anguish. They both started -—
and gave a short cry -— almost a faint shriek -- I sickened and
well nigh fainted -— but instantly retired. Had I appeared to
recognize her, my Fortitude would not have supported me.

Vivit, sed mihi vivit -- nova forte mavita

Ah dolor! alterius cave a cervice pependit.

Vos, male fida valete accense insomnia mentis,

Littora amata, valete! Vale ah! formosa Maria! —-
Hucks informed me,that the two Sisters walked by the Window 4 or
5 times, as if anxiously. Doubtless, they think themselves de—
ceived by some Face strikingly like me -~ God bless her! Her
Image is in the Sanctuary of my Bosom —— and never can it be torn
from thence but with the strings that grapple my heart to Life.
This circumstance made me quite ill -- I had been wandering among
the wild—wood scenery and terrible graces of the Welch mountains
to wear away, not to revive, the Images of the Past! But Love
is a local Anguish -- I am 50 miles distant, and am not half so
miserable.-—— At Denbigh is the finest ruined Castle in the
Kingdom ~- it surpassed every thing, I could have conceived. I
wandered there two hours in a still Evening, feeding upon melan-
choly. Two well drest young Men were roaming there. "I will
play my Flute here" said the first -— "it will have a romantic
effect." Bless thee, Man of Genius and Sensibility! I silently
exclaimed. He sate down amid the most awful part of the Ruins -—
the Moon just began to make her Rays predominant over the linger-
ing Day—light —— I preattuned my feelings to Emotion -— and the
romantic Youth instantly struck up the sadly—pleasing Tune of -—
MP8 Casey!

The British Lion is my Sign,

A Roaring Trade I drive on &c.

'Three miles from Denbigh on the Road to St Asaph is a fine

Bridge with one Arch -— of great grandeur -- stand at a little dis-

 

 tance, and through it you see the woods waving on the Hill-bank of
the River in a most lovely point of view. A beautiful prospect is
always more picturesque, when seen at some little distance thro'
an Arch. I have frequently thOught of Mich. Taylor's way of
viewing a Landscape by putting his head between his Thighs. ~—
Under the arch was the most perfect Echo, I ever heard. Hucks

sung, "Sweet Echo” with great effect. At Holywell I bathed in

the famous St Winifred's Well -- it is an excellent cold Bath.

At Rudland is a fine ruined Castle. Abergeley is a large Village
on the Sea Coast-— Walking on the sea sands I was surprised to
see a number of fine Women bathing promiscuously with men and
boys -- perfectly naked! Doubtless, the citadels of their Chas-
tity are so impregnably strong, that they need not the ornamental
Outworks of Modesty. But seriously speaking, where sexual Dis-
tinctions are least observed, men & women live together in the
greatest purity. Concealment sets the Imagination a working,
and, as it were, cantharidizes our desires.

Just before I quitted Cambridge I met a countryman with a
strange walking Stick, 5 feet in length -- I eagerly bought it --
and a most faithful servant it has proved to me. My sudden af—
fection for it has mellowed into settled Friendship. On the
morning of our leaving Abergeley just before our final departure
I looked for my Stick, in the place where I had left it over
night. It was gone —- I I alarumed the House. No one knew
anything of it. In the flurry of anxiety I sent for the Cryer
of the Town —- and gave him the following, to cry about the town
and on the beach -- which he did with a gravity, for which I am
indebted to his stupidity.

Missing from the Bee Inn, Abergeley -- A curious Walking
Stick. On one side it displays the head of an Eagle, the Eyes
of which represent rising Suns, and the Ears Turkish Crescents;

On the other side is the portrait of the Owner in Wood-work. Be-

 

 neath the head of the Eagle is a Welch Wig -- and around the

neck of the Stick is a Queen Elizabeth's Ruff in Tin. All adown
it waves the Line of Beauty in very ugly Carving. If any Gen—
tleman (or Lady) has fallen in love with the above-described Stick
& secretly carried off the same, he (or she) is hereby earnestly
admonished to conquer a Passion, the continuance of which must
prove fatal to his (or her) Honesty: and if the said Stick has
slipped into such Gentleman’s (or Lady's) hand thro' Inadvertence,
he (or she) is required to rectify the mistake with all convenient
Speed. --— God save the King.

Abergeley is a fashionable Welch Watering Place -- and so ir-
regular a proclamation excited no small crowd on the Beach -' among
the rest a lame old Gentleman, in whose hands was descried my dear
Stick. The old Gent, who lodged at our Inn, felt great confusion,

and walked homewards, the solemn Cryer before him, and a various

Cavalcade behind him. I kept the Muscles of my Face in tolerable

Subjection. He made his lameness an apology for borrowing my
Stick, supposed he should have returned before I had wanted it
&c. There it ended except that a very handsome young Lady put
her head out of a Coach Window, and begged my permission to have
Ithe Bill, which I had delivered to the Cryer. I acceded to the
request with a compliment, that lighted up a blush on her cheek,
and a Smile on her Lip.

We passed over a ferry and landed at Aberconway. We had
scarcely left the Boat ere we descried Brookes & Berdmore with
whom we have joined Parties, nor do we mean to separate. Our
Tour thro' Anglesea to Caernavon has been repaid by scarcely
one object worth seeing. To morrow we visit Snowdon &c.
Brookes, Berdmore and myself at the imminent hazard of our Lives
scaled the very Summit of Penmaenman -— it was a most dreadful

expedition! I will give you the account in some future Letter.

 

 I sent for Bowles's Works, while at Oxford-—- how was I

shocked. Every Omission and every alteration disgusts Taste &

mangles Sensibility. Surely some Oxford Toad has been squatting

at the Poet’s ear, and spitting into it the cold venom of Dull-
ness. It is not Bowles —— He is still the same (the added
Poems prove it) -— descriptive, dignified, tender, sublime.

The Sonnets added are exquisite -— Abbe Thule has marked Beau-
ties -— and the little Poem at Southampton is a Diamond -— in
whatever light you place it, it reflects beauty and splendour.
The "Shakespeare" is sadly unequal to the rest -- yet in whose
Poems, except in those of Bowles, would it not have been excel—
lent?

(Do write to) me, my dear Fellow! to be left at the (Post)
Office, Bristol -- and tell me every thing about yourself, how
you have spent the Vacation &c. -— (&) believe me with grati-
tude and fraternal friendship

Your obliged
S. T. Coleridge

'July 22nd
1794

 

 Lines written at Ross, at the King's Arms,
once the House of Mr Kyrle

Richer than Misers o'er their countless hoards,
Nobler than Kings or king-polluted Lords,
Here dwelt the Man of Ross! 0 Stranger, hear!
Departed merit claims the glistening tear.
If 'neath this Roof thy wine-cheer'd moments pass,
Fill to the good man's name one grateful glass.
To higher zest shall Memory wake thy soul,
And Virtue mingle in the ennobled Bowl.
But if, like me, thro' Life's distressful Sc
Lonely and sad thy Pilgrimage hath be
And if, thy Breast with heart—sick angu
Thou journeyest onward tempest—tost in
Here cheat thy cares; in generous Vision

And dream of Goodness thou hast never fe

The Faded Flower

Ungrateful He, who pluck'd thee from thy stalk,

Poor faded Floweret! on his careless way;

Inhaled awhile thy odours on his walk,

Then onward passed and left thee to decay.

Ah melancholy Emblem! had I seen

Thy modest Beauties dew'd with evening's Gem

I had not rudely cropt thy parent stem;

But left thee blushing 'mid the enliven‘d Green.
And now I bend me (o'er) thy wither'd Bloom,

And drop the tear -— as Fancy at my Side
Deep—signing points the fair frail Abra's Tomb, --
"Like thine, sad Flower! was that poor Wanderer's pride!
"0 lost to Love & Truth! whose selfish Joy

"Tasted her vernal sweets -- but tasted to destroy!

of course B and B desire their kind remembrances.

 

 Letter
1.
To Henry Martin

,.
Origir na1 letter in the possession of Mr W. Hugh Peal. First published

~...

with omissions GentlemanI Magazine, N.S,, Vol. V, 242, (Me rch 187 6)

from a transcript now in the Guildhall Library, London. This transcript,
which is in an unknown handwriting and contains neither of the poems
Coleridge cepied at the end of his letter, was sent by William Lisle
Bowles to the editor of the Gentleman's Mags? ine H“ N. Coleridge
reprrrted this text in the second edition of the Biogra1.phia Literaria,
1847, II, 338, but erroneously addressed the letter to "Mr. Masters of
Jesus College." In August 1836 the letter was published in the Egg
Monthly Magazine, Part II, 420, from the holograph. Although there are
extensive omissions in the text as there printed, the two poems, LQQEE

written at Ross and The faded Flower, are both included. The poems are

 

followed by a fragmentary essay of Coleridge's, "the study of History

is preferable to the study of Natural Philosophy." The holograph of
Coleridge's letter, including the two poems, and the manuscript of

the essay, which was probably written in 1794, have been kept together
since their first publication in 1836, and both are now in the collection

of Mr. W. Hugh Peale;
———1

From oxford * . . ‘3 Moss, 1, to Hereford, to

' ‘ 1.. m r "5 r“: 'r '3“ -‘ , " -- ‘3;
Leomin Ms er x, to Bisnep°s 'w «a .ouu.., ,0 Jelehpooi,

« w I " ~ «:7? ’5". i n 1‘ ‘t
Llanv1111ng r slungollln, Mrexham xx,

6
a

e ‘t 3' ‘ - - 'I 2' ‘- a
Ruthin, eenblgh x, e g ,1 .v , . a ' ~ abergaler x,

Abber x’lyer , ~1n an . Amlosk x, Cepper mines,

Aberconway x,

Meindu, Moeldon over a ferry to Ca ernarvon have I journeyed, new

p ilosown17ing with Huolts, nee melanchoiizing by myself, or else

 

1. It was to Henry Martin of Jesus College that Coleridge dedicated

The Fall of Robespierre. See Letter; it

 

 ”er—dreams of Fancy, thet
piece 1 have 1‘
our Tour was intensely not ~— the
Qnfi the“ Onfltrv
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finish 1 shall adfi t0 the end of
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romezw
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each otne is feces ' ' 2-H‘:¢ ~ ‘ E‘i“ i This is me hing in
Wales - they ~”__ “ ~\ Sulgnureous Fumes
)5 their Temper! I endeaVOured 'w I . 1“ tgg; I, I, seerving ”that

ho.ever ii II arent ear Political Spinicns M'gi‘ ‘ V svgeerenee of a

Clergyman in the Company assured meg that we were sfli gnristiens - though

I found it rather difI icult to reconcile the last sentiment with the

 

1. Joseph Priestley, 1733-1804, theologian and scientist, immigrated
to the United States in April 1794 and in July settled in Northumberland,
Pennsylvania. Coleridge paid him tribute in a sonnet (Poems, I, 81) and

in lines 371-376 of Religious Musings, I, 123.

 

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1. On the transcript of this letter now in the Guildhall Library,

London, Bowles wrote the following note to the editor of the ggnglggaQLg
Magazine: "My dear Sir I send you an original letter of poor
Coleridge.... You can Say, if you print this letter, & I think many
parts most interesting — with regard to his criticism on me, that it is

d volume - but

suppos‘d he alludes to some negligent comp's ... initheie

M? Pickering is about to publish in two volumes, the selected a best

works —." Bowles was obviously pleased with Coleridge's praise and

wished to explain the adverse comments. Accordingly, the editor, in

printing Coleridge's letter in the Gentleman' 5 Magazine in March

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Robert Southey, p, 68, over the signature Bion, the pseudonym Southey used
to distinguish his contributions to that volume. Neither Coleridge nor
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basis of its appearance in the New Monthly Magazine, J. D. Campbell first
added it to the Coleridge canon in 1893, and E. H. Coleridge included it
Egggg, I, 70.

2. In the Southey (1795) version read "Emma" for "Abra." A transcript of
this sonnet in an unknown handwriting is in the Pierpont Morgan Library.
It is dated July 10, 1794, is signed S.T.C., and in line 11 reads "Emma"

rather than "Abra."

 

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