COTTLE's EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF COLERIDGE. • ALTHOUGH intermingled with a number

of irrelative subjects, and weakened by an excessive diffuseness, these Recollections contain many curious and interesting particulars of the early career and character of COLERIDGE, and of one most painful circumstance of his later days. Whatever, indeed, may be the defects of their arrange- ment, and the weaknesses of their execution, they form a most important contribution to his biographical materials, and are essential to a full understanding of the man ; displaying him fully in some of the most momentous situations of human life—his earliest worldly project, his marriage, and his first ap. pearance as an author ; whilst they also illustrate his amiability of feeling and manners, as well as his two great defects, one of na- ture, the other of habit. As they profess only to relate to one period of life, and that an accidental one, determined by a resi- dence in a particular place, they, of necessity, cannot possess wholeness and coherence of subject : and, following the nature of the work before us, our notice will be of a like miscellaneous character.

The time over which these reminiscences extend is from 1794 to 1814, though they have a chronological consecutiveness only during four or five years. Mr. JOSEPH COTTLE, the remi- niscent, was for some time (1791 to 1798) a bookseller in Bristol ; and subsequently wrote several poems which procured hint the ridicule of CANNING in the Antijacobin, and the coarse attack of BYRON in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. As he appears to have been wealthy, and had imbibed an ardent love of letters, he acted towards men of genius as much like a patron as a hibliopole, and courted their society mare for the honour than the profit that attended it. About the end of 1794, a Quaker friend informed bins of the advent of two modern Pythagoreans, who were about to embark from Bristol for the New World, in order to found a new state of society. These " Philosophical Reformers" was COLE- RIDGE and SOUTHEY, fresh from the University ; and the schema was neither more nor less than the once famed Pantisocracy,—under which, property was to be in common, and all were to be equal; each person was to labour two hours a day, it being estimated by them and another philosopher of the same stamp (GoowiN) that this portion of time would suffice to produce all the conveniences of civilized life, if society would divide the labour equally amongst its members ; and no one was to be restrained by positive laws, but " human perfectibility" was to be attained by excluding the " little deteriorating passions." The scene selected for the foundation of this realm of reason was the banks of the Susque- hannah (chosen, Mr. Corrt.E opines, for the euphony of its name); and thither the poetical bibliopole was invited to ac- company the colonists. His practical experience in business, however, suggested to him the uncertainty of the scheme, and filled him with regret for the young men who were about to throw themselves away ; a regret which was heightened, on the arrival of the two leaders, by their simplicity of character and suavity .of manners, as well as by the eloquence and learning they displayed and by the poetical genius of which they gave evidence. Reasoning from any one, however, was in vain ; for the torrent of COLERIDGE'S conversational eloquance bore down all attempts to confute him ; and JOSEPH COTTLE was in de- spair, when he was relieved by the following proposal to negotiate a loan, not for the foundation of an empire, but for a more pres- sing though commonplace purpose. "My dear Sir—Can you conveniently lend me five pounds? as tee want a little more than four pounds to make up our lodging bill, which is indeed much higher than we expected; seven weeks, and Burnet's lodging for twelve weeks,

amounting to eleven pounds. "Yours affectionately,

"S. T. COLERIDGE."

Satisfied, from the dilemma of the four pounds odd, that the pas-

sage. money across the Atlantic, let alone the stock and implements necessary for the commencement of the two hours' daily labour, would raise up an insuperable obstacle to " human perfectibility," Mr. COTTLE began to consider how the two poets (whose resources he was now acquainted with for the first time) might be enabled " advantageously to employ their talents :" which, so far as Cote- RIDGE was concerned, he thus accomplished.

"Soon after, finding Mr. Coleridge in rather a desponding mood, I urged him to keep up his spirits, and recommended him to publish a volume of his poems. Clb, he replied, 'that is a useless expedient.' He continued : 'I offered a volume of my poems to different booksellets in London, who would not even look at theta; the reply being, Sir, the article will not do. At length, one, more accommodating than the rest, condescended to receive my 315. poems; and, after a deliberate inspection, offered me, for the copyright, six guineas; which sum, poor as I was, I refused to accept." Well, said I, to encourage you, I will give you twenty guineas.' It was very pleasant to ob- . erve the joy that instantly diffused itself over his countenance. 'Nay,' I con- tinned, 'others publiah for themselves, I will chiefly remember you. Iyn;atesie aydo: giving you twenty guineas, I will extend it to thirty ; and, wiaumi pa riak,

the completion of the work, to make you easy, von may have the mone - -

occasions require.' The silence and the grasped hand showed that, at that moment, one person was happy."

Procrastination, however, even when the responsibility of an en- gagement was thrown upon him, was the v;ee of Comounas, Though many of the poems were deposited in his memory, he could not summon industry or resolution to write them down ;. and for new compositions, of course a greater effort was required. When ill health," to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow !" was hiscon., stant cry : now and then a lucky sickness intervened, and gave something like a valid excuse; then came his courtship, when Mr, COTTLE was too considerate to press for copy ; and, alter repeated failures, the bard invited himself to COTTLE'S to spend the evening, and to be " locked in " the parlour till he had finished the prefaces and notes. Still the work was unfinished, and the patronizing publisher had given up the theughts of its appearance ; but, " Having a friend who wanted an introduction to Mr. Coleridge, I invited him to dinner, and sent Alr. C. a note, to name the time and to solicit his company. The bearer of the note was simply requested to give it to Mr. C., and who, finding him out, inconsiderately brought it back. Alr. Coleridge returning home soon after, and finding that 1 bad sent a letter which was taken back, in the supposition that it could relate but to one sulject, addressed to me the following astounding letter. "Redcliff Hill. 22,1 Fehruari, 196. " My dear Sir—It is my duty and business to thank God for all his Ilivenaa. tions, and to believe them the best possible; but, indeed, I think I should have been more thankful, if he had made me a journeyman shoemaker, instead of an 'author by trade.' I have left my friends; I have left plenty ; I have left that ease which would have secured a literary immortality, and have enabled tne to give the public works conceived in moments of inspiration, and polished with leisurely solicitude ; and, alas! for what hay I left them? for—,who deserted Tile in the hour of distreas, and for a scheme of virtue, impracticable and roman. tic ! So I am forced to write for bread—write the flights of poetic enthusiasm, when every minute I am hearing is groan from my wife—groans, and com- plaints, and sickness. The present hour I am in a quick-set hedge of embar- rassment, arid whichever way I turn a thorn runs into me. The future is cloud anti thick darkness. Poverty, perhaps, and the thin faces of them that want bread, looking up to me. Nor is this all. My happiest moments for composition are broken in upon by the reflection that I must make haste. I am too late ! I am already months behind! I have received my pay before- hand ! 0, wayward and desultory spirit of genius ! Ill coast thou brook a tasktnaster ! The tenderest touch from the hand of obligation wounds thee like a scourge of scorpions !

"1 have been composing in the fields this morning, and came home to write down the first rude sheet of my preface, when I heard that your man had brought a note from you. I have not seen it, but I guess its contents. I an writing as fast I can. Depend on it, you shall not he out of pocket for me. I feel what Lowe you ; anti, independently of this, I love you as a friend ; indeed, so much, that I regret, seriously regret, that you have been my mipyholder. " If I have written petulantly, forgive me. God knows I am sore all over. God bless you, and believe me, that, setting gratitude aside, I love you and esteem you, and have your interest at heart full as much as my own.

"S. T. COLERIDGE."

Passing this truly characteristic effusion, and several other in- stances of flagrant, and, but for their effects, ludicrous want of punctuality, let us turn to his marriage where the author of " Pantisocracy " displayed a most. poetical disregard to the com- monplaces or life. He had taken for his bride a cottage at Clevedon, a village on the banks of the Severn, which cottage " had walls and doors and windows, but furniture only such as became a philosopher." And two days after his marriage, Mr. COTTLE re- ceived the following—

POET'S BRIDAL INVENTORY OF REQUISITES.

A riddle-slice; a candle-box ; two ventilators; two glasses for the wash- hand stand ; one tin dust-pan; one small tin tea-kettle; one pair of candle- sticks; one carpet brush; one flour-dredge; three tin extinguishers.; two mats ; a pair of slippers; a cheese-toaster ; two large tin spoons ; a bible; a keg of porter ; coffee ; raisins ; currants; catsup; nutmegs ; allspice ; cinna- mon; rice ; ginger and mace.

Some six months after his wedding, COLERIDGE formed a plan to procure a permanent subsistence by publishing an eight-day periodical, to be called the Watchman. This work was to combine in itself the features (improved) of the review, magazine, and newspaper of that day—a history of domestic and foreign policy, a condensed report of the Parliamentary debates, original essays and poetry, and a review of new publications. His friends contributed to raise the necessary funds ; and CoLuitinott, full of zeal for his new project, started on a tour through the provinces to procure subscribers ; which was effected to a tolerable extent by the powers of his conversation and the promises of his prospectus. The re- gular industry andmethodical attention which a periodical requires, do not, however, seem to be suited to the more mercurial cha- racter of a certain class of poets and novelists, who wait for inspi- ration to wield their pen : least of all was it fitted for COLERIDGE, whose habit of procrastination and forgetfulness equals any thing upon record. The author was oppressed by the drudgery ; the subscribers were dissatisfied with the execution—and, without im- pugning the genius of COLERIDGE, probably with justice. After j ten numbers, the work was abandoned ; and COLERIDGE may be ' added to the list of MOORE, CAMPBELL, BYRON, and GALT, as having egregiously failed in periodical literature. Passing by a notice of a quarrel between LAMB and COLERIDGE, with the remark that the author of Ella puts out more vinegar than we should have thought was in him,—as well as Mr. CorrLE's minute and triumphant account of his hero's conversion from the heresy of SociNUS (Unitarianism),—we must jump over a lapse of many years (1796 to 1814), during which COLERIDGE had wandered about Europe, and acquired the habits and disease of a confirmed opium-eater. The narrative of this period, which may be said to have witnessed the death of friendship between Corrus and COLERIDGE, is of a deep and almost tragic interest. We see friends alienated, usefulness destroyed, the mind and body of a powerful genius alike debilitated, and the victim him- self deeply conscious of his miseries and their origin but incapable of breaking his chain. We cannot find room for the whole of this melancholy chapter in COLERInoR's life, but we will quote enough to convey an idea of its nature. It is necessary to premise, that on arriving at Bristol in 1814, to give some lectures, the best friends of the lecturer were distressed to observe that there was something strange in his look and deportment ; his countenance was sallow, his step tottering, his eye glassy, and his hand so unsteady, that Mr. Corns observed to his dismay that " he could not take a glass of wine without spilling it, though one hand sup- ported the other." At first Mr.CorrLe attributed it to paralysis; but when informed, by a mutual friend, of the real state of the case, he addressed a conjuring remonstrance to COLERIDGE; which drew forth this excusatory confession. ..26th April 1814. I'You have poured oil in the raw and fostering wound of an old friend', con- science, Cottle ; but it is oil of vitriol. I but barely glanced at the middle of the first page of your letter, and have seen no more of It—not from resentment (God forbid !) but from the state of my bodily and mental sufferings, that scarcely permitted human fortitude to let in a new visiter of affliction. " The object of my present reply is to state the case, just as it is—first, that for ten years the anguish of my spirit has been indescribable, the sense of my danger staring, but the consciousness of my GUILT worse—far worse than all ! I have prayed, with drops of agony on my brow ; trembling, nut only before the justice of my Maker, but even before the mercy of my Redeemer. I gave thee so many talents, what hest thou done with them?' Secondly, over- whelmed as I am with a sense of my direful infirmity, I have never attempted to disguise or conceal the cause. On the contrary, not only to friends have I stated the whole case with tears and the very bitterness of shame, but in two instances I have warned young men, mere acquaintances, who had spoken of having taken laudanum, of the direful consequences, by an awful exposition of its tremendous effects on myself. Thirdly, though before God I cannot lift up my eyelids, and only do not despair of his mercy because to despair would be adding crime to crime, yet to my fellow men I may say, that I was seduced into the AeentsED habit ignorantly. I had been almost bedridden for many months with swellings in my knees. In a medical journal I unhappily met with an account of a cure pertormed in a similar case (or what appeared to me so) by rubbing in of laudanum, at the same time taking a given dose internally. It acted like a charm, like a miracle ! I recovered the use of my limbs, of my appetite, of my spirits ; and this continued for near a fortnight. At length the 'usual stimulus subsided, *he complaint returned ; the supposed remedy was recurred to—but I cannot go through the dreary history.

"Suffice it to say, that effects were produced which acted on me by terror and cowardice, of pain and sudden death, not (so help me God !) by any temp- tation of pleasure, or expectation, or desire of exciting pleasurable sensations. On the very contrary, Mts. Morgan and her sister will bear witness so far as to say, that the longer I abstained, the higher my spirits were, the keener my enjoyments—till the moment, the direful moment arrived, when my pulse began to fluctuate, my heart to palpitate, and such a dreadful falling abroad, as it were, of my whole frame, such intolerable restlessness and incipient bewilderment, that in the last of my several attempts to abandon the turn poison, I exclaimed in agony, which I now repeat in seriousness and solemnity, • I am too poor to hazard this.' hail I but a few hundred pounds—hut two hundred pounds—half to send to Mrs. Coleridge, and half to place myself in a private mad- buten!, where I could procure nothing but what a physician thought proper, and where a medical attendant could be constantly with me for two or three months (in less

than that time, life or death would be determined) then there might be hope. Now time is none. 0 fital ! how willingly would I place myself under Dr. Fox, in his establishment ; for my ease is a species of madness, only that it is a derangement, an utter impotence of the volition, and not of the intellectual faculties. You bid me rouse myself: go bid a man paralytic in both arms, to rub them briskly together, and that will cure him. Alas ! he would reply, ' that I cannot move my arms, is my complaint and my misery.'

" May God bless you, and your affectionate but most afflicted, "S. T. COLERIDGg."

Mr. COTTLE, in reply to this, recommended prayer; but he shrunk from immuring his friend in a lunatic asylum. Further letters passed between them, till COTTLE broke a blood-vessel. On his convalescence, the correspondence was renewed by COLE- RIDGE, with the following mystical picture of his state,

"Friday. 27111 of May 1814, "My dear Cottle—Gladness be with you, for your convalescence, and equally so at the hope which has sustained and tranquillized you through your imminent peril. Far otherwise is, and hath been, my state ; yet 1 too am grateful; yet I cannot rejoice. I feel, with an intensity unfathomable by words, my utter nothingness, impotence, and worthlessness, in and for myself. I have learned what a sin is against an infinite imperishable being, such as is the soul of man !

"I have had more than a glimpse of what is meant by death and outer darkness, and the worm that dieth not—and that all the hell of the reprobate is no more inconsistent with the love of God, than the blindness of one who has occasioned loathsome and guilty diseases to eat out his eyes, is inconsistent with the light of the sun. But the consolations, at least the sensible sweetness of hope, I du not possess. On the contrary, the temptation which I have con- stantly to fight up against, is, a fear, that if annihilation and the possibility of heaven, were offered to my choice, I should choose the former."

His mental and bodily torments were not, however, to his friends at least, the most distressing part of this habit. His moral prin- ciples, and such independence of spirit as he bad, gave way : like the confirmed and necessitous drunkard, he resorted to mean sub- terfuges and unworthy arts to conceal his practices, and to pro- cure the means for their enjoyment. He persuaded his friends that his medical attendant had effected a cure : the money, so Mr. Corms states, that had been furnished him for other pur- poses, was applied to the purchase of this intoxicating drug ; and various little tricks were practised to procure it without the know- ledge of an attendant who had been placed over him. Here is one, "As an example, amongst many others of a similar nature, one ingenious expedient to which he resorted to cheat the doctor, he thus disclosed to a friend, (from whom I received it.) He said, in passing along the quay, where the ships were moored, he noticed, by a side glance, &druggist's shop, probably in old resort, and standing near the door, be looked toward the ships, and, pointing to one, at some distance, he said to his attendant, I think that's American.' Oh, no, that I am sure it is not,' said the man. 'I think it is,' *plied 14 r. C. 'I wish you would step over and ask, and bring me the par

ticlilars.' The man accordingly went; when as soon as his heck was turned,

Mr C. stepped into the shop, had his portly battle ba

ttle filled with laudanum (which he always carried in his pocket), and then expeditiously placed himself in the spot where he was left. The man now returned with the particulars, beginning, • I told you, Sir, it Was not an American ; but I have learned all about her: ' As I am mistaken, never mind the rest,' said Mr. C. and walked on."

The eventual termination of so long a friendship, sprung out of that frequent source of difference, money. Two letters, and me- lancholy letters they are, were addressed in rapid succession by COLERIDGE to his friend, requesting an advance of thirty or

forty pounds, but shifting his ground somewhat in the second. Convinced that the money would not be applied to the alleged purpose, but spent on opium, Mr. COTTLE eventually declined

acceding to the request, but sent ten pounds. From this time COLERIDGE never wrote to him ; which Mr. COTTLE says that he felt ; but when, many years afterwards, lie called upon the poor man in London, COLERIDGE gave him a book on parting.

The reader of the Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of Coleridge, published by Mr. Moxore, will probably have marked the insensibility of COLERIDGE to the receipt of pecuniary obli- gation. The same obtuseness is more fully developed in the work before us.* This feeling is not, indeed, to be charged against COLERIDGE as an offence; for he belonged to an age which had lurking in it the notions of the age of patronage, when assistance was deemed as much the right of an author to re- ceive as it was the duty of the wealthy to proffer. But he was hardly justified in attributing, as was his custom, his non- production of a great work to his want of means to study at leisure. Independent of casual but considerable assistance from friends, the two Messrs. WEDGEWOODS allowed him an annuity of 1501., to prevent him (in 1798) from accepting an Unitarian congregation, in order that lie might expressly devote himself to literature; and though half of this dropped on the death of one brother, the 75/. was paid during the life of COLERIDGE; Mr. Ds Quisicv, the English opium-eater, presented secretly, through Mr. COTTLE, 3001.; and several of his friends at various periods offered to contribute towards an annuity. But the impediment was in the inward man more thin in external ciruemstances. Even the fatal opium (whether in later years he subdued the habit or not) was more injurious to his health and personal chai- racter than to his fame as an author. The habit of procrastination and want of will was his bane. And DAVY, who knew him at Listol, predicted his career too truly, in two letters, written at an interval of five years.

" His eloquence is unimpaired ; perhaps it is softer and stronger. His will is less than ever commensurate with his ability. Brilliant images of gieatness float upon Ilia mind, like images of the morning clouds on the waters. Their forms are changed by the motion of the waves; they ale agitated by every breeze and modified toy every sunbeam. Ile talked in the course of au hour of be- ginning three works; and he recited the poem of Chrism's.' ' utifitikhed, and as I had before heard it. M'Ititt talent does 'tie not waste in fortune,' , visions, sub- 4.

lime, but unconnected with the real o ( )

" With the Most exalted genius, enlarged s iews, sensitive heart, and en- lightened mind, lie will be the victim ot want .1 lti der,precision' and regu.

La n

cry. I cannot ti lilt of him without expetiencing the mingled feelings of admiration, regard, and pity." (1604. ) Notwithstanding the length of this notice, there are some points relating to COLERIDGE left untouched ; and we have designedly avoided all the incidental notices Of SOUTHEY, CHARLES LAMB, WORDSWORTH, and (a smaller person) CHARLES LLOYD. MT. Come has also introduced into his volumes some interesting particulars of Ronsar HALL, and a full account of that back- sliding of the servants, which caused HANNAH MORE'S departure from Burley Wood, and which Mr. ROBERTS so mysteriously touched upon in his Memoirs in four volumes.

* One delicate exception must in justice be noted, though there is perhaps a sufficient reason stated for it. Mr. Com.): was not summoned to the prelimi- nary meeting to determine upon the Watchman. Whilst pondering upon the cause of this, he received the following note.

" My dear flit-nil-1 am fearfol that you felt hart at my not mentioning to you the proposed Watchman, and from my not requiestin4 you to atteml the meeting. My dear friend, my reasons were thew.. All who m,t mere' expected to become tulwril.era he a fund. I knew there would be enowIts without you, and I knew and felt how moth money had boon drawn away from you lately. coal Almighty lure you I S. 'T. C."