Specimens of the Table Talk of S.T.Coleridge | Page 2

importance; but they can hardly be without some, and, I
hope, a worthy, interest, as coming from the lips of one at least of the
most extraordinary men of the age; whilst to the best of my knowledge
and intention, no living person's name is introduced, whether for praise
or for blame, except on literary or political grounds of common
notoriety. Upon the justice of the remarks here published, it would be
out of place in me to say any thing; and a commentary of that kind is

the less needed, as, in almost every instance, the principles upon which
the speaker founded his observations are expressly stated, and may be
satisfactorily examined by themselves. But, for the purpose of general
elucidation, it seemed not improper to add a few notes, and to make
some quotations from Mr. Coleridge's own works; and in doing so, I
was in addition actuated by an earnest wish to call the attention of
reflecting minds in general to the views of political, moral, and
religious philosophy contained in those works, which, through an
extensive, but now decreasing, prejudice, have hitherto been deprived
of that acceptance with the public which their great preponderating
merits deserve, and will, as I believe, finally obtain. And I can truly say,
that if, in the course of the perusal of this little work, any one of its
readers shall gain a clearer insight into the deep and pregnant principles,
in the light of which Mr. Coleridge was accustomed to regard God and
the World,--I shall look upon the publication as fortunate, and consider
myself abundantly rewarded for whatever trouble it has cost me.
A cursory inspection will show that this volume lays no claim to be
ranked with those of Boswell in point of dramatic interest. Coleridge
differed not more from Johnson in every characteristic of intellect, than
in the habits and circumstances of his life, during the greatest part of
the time in which I was intimately conversant with him. He was
naturally very fond of society, and continued to be so to the last; but the
almost unceasing ill health with which he was afflicted, after fifty,
confined him for many months in every year to his own room, and,
most commonly, to his bed. He was then rarely seen except by single
visiters; and few of them would feel any disposition upon such
occasions to interrupt him, whatever might have been the length or
mood of his discourse. And indeed, although I have been present in
mixed company, where Mr. Coleridge has been questioned and
opposed, and the scene has been amusing for the moment--I own that it
was always much more delightful to me to let the river wander at its
own sweet will, unruffled by aught but a certain breeze of emotion
which the stream itself produced. If the course it took was not the
shortest, it was generally the most beautiful; and what you saw by the
way was as worthy of note as the ultimate object to which you were
journeying. It is possible, indeed, that Coleridge did not, in fact,
possess the precise gladiatorial power of Johnson; yet he understood a

sword-play of his own; and I have, upon several occasions, seen him
exhibit brilliant proofs of its effectiveness upon disputants of
considerable pretensions in their particular lines. But he had a genuine
dislike of the practice in himself or others, and no slight provocation
could move him to any such exertion. He was, indeed, to my
observation, more distinguished from other great men of letters by his
moral thirst after the Truth--the ideal truth--in his own mind, than by
his merely intellectual qualifications. To leave the everyday circle of
society, in which the literary and scientific rarely-- the rest never--break
through the spell of personality;--where Anecdote reigns everlastingly
paramount and exclusive, and the mildest attempt to generalize the
Babel of facts, and to control temporary and individual phenomena by
the application of eternal and overruling principles, is unintelligible to
many, and disagreeable to more;--to leave this species of converse--if
converse it deserves to be called--and pass an entire day with Coleridge,
was a marvellous change indeed. It was a Sabbath past expression deep,
and tranquil, and serene. You came to a man who had travelled in many
countries and in critical times; who had seen and felt the world in most
of its ranks and in many of its vicissitudes and weaknesses; one to
whom all literature and genial art were absolutely subject, and to whom,
with a reasonable allowance as to technical details, all science was in a
most extraordinary degree familiar. Throughout a long-drawn summer's
day would this man talk to you in low, equable, but clear and musical,
tones, concerning things human and divine; marshalling all history,
harmonizing all