Life of Samuel Taylor Coleridge | Page 9

history of
his mind in boyhood: to this I reply, that the entire man so to speak, is
to be seen even in the cradle of the child. [10]
The serious may be startled at the thought of a young man passing
through such an ordeal; but with him it was the exercise of his strength,
in order that he might "fight the good fight," and conquer for that truth
which is permanent, and is the light and the life of every one who
comes into the world, and who is in earnest search of it.
In his sixteenth year he composed the allegory of "Real and Imaginary
Time," first published in the Sibylline Leaves, having been accidentally
omitted in the Juvenile Poems,--

"On the wide level of a mountain's head, (I knew not where, but 'twas
some fairy place) Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails outspread, Two
lovely children run an endless race, A sister and a brother! That far
outstripped the other; Yet ever runs she with reverted face, And looks
and listens for the boy behind; For he, alas! is blind! O'er rough and
smooth with even step he passed, And knows not whether he be first or
last." [11]
in which may be traced the first dawnings of his genius. He pictures to
himself a boy returning to school after the holidays; in his day-dreams
making plans for the future, and anticipating the pleasure he is to enjoy
on his return home; his vivid thoughts, and sanguine expectations "far
outstripping" the reality of time as marked by the watch or almanack.
Real time is personified as a blind boy steadily pursuing his path;
whilst imaginary time is represented as a fleeting girl, looking back and
listening for her brother whom she has outrun. Perhaps to Mr. Bowyer's
excellent method of instruction may be attributed this early
developement of his genius. Coleridge remarks of him,
"He was an admirable educer, no less than educator of intellect; he
taught me to leave out as many epithets as would make eight syllable
lines, and then ask if the exercise would not be greatly improved."
Although in this year he began to indulge in metaphysical speculations,
he was wedded to verse, and many of his early poems were planned;
some of which he finished, and they were published in the "Juvenile
Poems," on his entry into life; but as many more were scattered among
his friends, who had greatly increased in number. About this time he
became acquainted with a widow lady,
"whose son," says he, "I, as upper boy, had protected, and who
therefore looked up to me, and taught me what it was to have a mother.
I loved her as such. She had three daughters, and of course I fell in love
with the eldest. From this time to my nineteenth year, when I quitted
school for Jesus, Cambridge, was the era of poetry and love."
It has been observed, that about this sixteenth year, he first developed
genius, and that during this early period of his life, his mind was

incessantly toiling in the pursuit of knowledge. His love of reading
seemed to have increased in proportion to his acquirements, which
were equally great: his representing himself as an infidel was better
perhaps understood by his master, who believed it to be only puerile
vanity; and therefore Coleridge considered the flogging he received on
this occasion, a just and appropriate punishment; and it was so, for as a
boy he had not thought deep enough on an equally important point, viz.,
what is Fidelity, and how easily, he particularly might mistake the
genuineness of sincere 'fidelity' for mere outward forms, and the simple
observance of customs. Perhaps I might have been disposed to pass
over this era with a slighter notice, which he in his simplicity of
character thought it right to record. He was always honest in every
thing concerning himself, and never spared self-accusation, often, when
not understood, to his own injury. He never from his boyhood to his
latest life, received kindness without grateful feelings, and, when he
believed it coupled with love, without the deepest sense of its value;
and if the person possessed sensibility and taste, he repaid it tenfold.
This was the experience of nearly twenty years intimate knowledge of
his character.
His description of his first love was that of a young poet, recording the
first era of the passion, the fleeting dream of his youth--but not that
love which he afterwards records in the Geneviève when he says,
"All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal
frame, All are but ministers of love, And feed his sacred flame."
First love, so seldom the mature love of future days, is a flower of
premature growth and developement, on which fancy