English Literature
gentle, kindly nature which made men love and respect him in spite of his
weaknesses, and which caused Lamb to speak of him humorously as "an
archangel a little damaged." The universal law of suffering seems to be
that it refines and softens humanity; and Coleridge was no exception to the
law. In his poetry we find a note of human sympathy, more tender and
profound than can be found in Wordsworth or, indeed, in any other of the
great English poets. Even in his later poems, when he has lost his first
inspiration and something of the splendid imaginative power that makes his
work equal to the best of Blake's, we find a soul tender, triumphant,
quiet, "in the stillness of a great peace." He died in 1834, and was buried
in Highgate Church. The last stanza of the boatman's song, in _Remorse_,
serves better to express the world's judgment than any epitaph:
Hark! the cadence dies away
On the quiet moon-lit sea;
The boatmen rest their oars and say,
_Miserere Domini!_
WORKS OF COLERIDGE. The works of Coleridge naturally divide themselves into
three classes,--the poetic, the critical, and the philosophical,
corresponding to the early, the middle, and the later periods of his
career. Of his poetry Stopford Brooke well says: "All that he did
excellently might be bound up in twenty pages, but it should be bound in
pure gold." His early poems show the influence of Gray and Blake,
especially of the latter. When Coleridge begins his "Day Dream" with the
line, "My eyes make pictures when they're shut," we recall instantly
Blake's haunting _Songs of Innocence_. But there is this difference between
the two poets,--in Blake we have only a dreamer; in Coleridge we have the
rare combination of the dreamer and the profound scholar. The quality of
this early poetry, with its strong suggestion of Blake, may be seen in such
poems as "A Day Dream," "The Devil's Thoughts," "The Suicide's Argument,"
and "The Wanderings of Cain." His later poems, wherein we see his
imagination bridled by thought and study, but still running very freely,
may best be appreciated in "Kubla Khan," "Christabel," and "The Rime of the
Ancient Mariner." It is difficult to criticise such poems; one can only
read them and wonder at their melody, and at the vague suggestions which
they conjure up in the mind. "Kubla Khan" is a fragment, painting a
gorgeous Oriental dream picture, such as one might see in an October
sunset. The whole poem came to Coleridge one morning when he had fallen
asleep over Purchas, and upon awakening he began to write hastily,
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
He was interrupted after fifty-four lines were written, and he never
finished the poem.
"Christabel" is also a fragment, which seems to have been planned as the
story of a pure young girl who fell under the spell of a sorcerer, in the
shape of the woman Geraldine. It is full of a strange melody, and contains
many passages of exquisite poetry; but it trembles with a strange, unknown
horror, and so suggests the supernatural terrors of the popular hysterical
novels, to which we have referred. On this account it is not wholesome
reading; though one flies in the face of Swinburne and of other critics by
venturing to suggest such a thing.
"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" is Coleridge's chief contribution to the
_Lyrical Ballads_ of 1798, and is one of the world's masterpieces. Though
it introduces the reader to a supernatural realm, with a phantom ship, a
crew of dead men, the overhanging curse of the albatross, the polar spirit,
and the magic breeze, it nevertheless manages to create a sense of absolute
reality concerning these manifest absurdities. All the mechanisms of the
poem, its meter, rime, and melody are perfect; and some of its descriptions
of the lonely sea have never been equaled. Perhaps we should say
suggestions, rather than descriptions; for Coleridge never describes
things, but makes a suggestion, always brief and always exactly right, and
our own imagination instantly supplies the details. It is useless to quote
fragments; one must read the entire poem, if he reads nothing else of the
romantic school of poetry.
Among Coleridge's shorter poems there is a wide variety, and each reader
must be left largely to follow his own taste. The beginner will do well to
read a few of the early poems, to which we have referred, and then try the
"Ode to France," "Youth and Age," "Dejection," "Love Poems," "Fears in
Solitude," "Religious Musings," "Work Without Hope," and the glorious "Hymn
Before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni." One exquisite little poem from the
Latin, "The Virgin's Cradle Hymn," and his version of Schiller's
_Wallenstein_, show Coleridge's remarkable power as a translator. The
latter is one of the best poetical translations in our literature.
Of Coleridge's prose works, the _Biographia, Literaria, or Sketches of My
Literary Life and Opinions_ (1817), his collected _Lectures on Shakespeare_
(1849), and _Aids to Reflection_ (1825) are the most interesting from a
literary view point. The first is an explanation and criticism of
Wordsworth's theory of poetry, and contains more sound sense and
illuminating ideas on the general subject of poetry than any other book in
our language. The _Lectures_, as refreshing as a west wind in midsummer,
are remarkable for their attempt to sweep away the arbitrary rules which
for two centuries had stood in the way of literary criticism of
Shakespeare, in order to study the works themselves. No finer analysis and
appreciation of the master's genius has ever been written. In his
philosophical work Coleridge introduced the idealistic philosophy of
Germany into England. He set himself in line with Berkeley, and squarely
against Bentham, Malthus, Mill, and all the materialistic tendencies which
were and still are the bane of English philosophy. The _Aids to Reflection_
is Coleridge's most profound work, but is more interesting to the student
of religion and philosophy than to the readers of literature.
ROBERT SOUTHEY (1774-1843)
Closely associated with Wordsworth and Coleridge is Robert Southey; and the
three, on account of their residence in the northern lake district, were
referred to contemptuously as the "Lakers" by the Scottish magazine
reviewers. Southey holds his place in this group more by personal
association than by his literary gifts. He was born at Bristol, in 1774;
studied at Westminster School, and at Oxford, where he found himself in
perpetual conflict with the authorities on account of his independent
views. He finally left the university and joined Coleridge in his scheme of
a Pantisocracy. For more than fifty years he labored steadily at
literature, refusing to consider any other occupation. He considered
himself seriously as one of the greatest writers of the day, and a reading
of his ballads--which connected him at once with the romantic school--leads
us to think that, had he written less, he might possibly have justified his
own opinion of himself. Unfortunately he could not wait for inspiration,
being obliged to support not only his own family but also, in large
measure, that of his friend Coleridge.
Southey gradually surrounded himself with one of the most extensive
libraries in England, and set himself to the task of of writing something
every working day. The results of his industry were one hundred and nine
volumes, besides some hundred and fifty articles for the magazines, most of
which are now utterly forgotten. His most ambitious poems are _Thalaba_, a
tale of Arabian enchantment; _The Curse of Kehama_, a medley of Hindoo
mythology; _Madoc_, a legend of a Welsh prince who discovered the western
world; and _Roderick_, a tale of the last of the Goths. All these, and many
more, although containing some excellent passages, are on the whole
exaggerated and unreal, both in manner and in matter. Southey wrote far
better prose than poetry, and his admirable _Life of Nelson_ is still often
read. Besides these are his _Lives of British Admirals_, his lives of
Cowper and Wesley, and his histories of Brazil and of the Peninsular War.
Southey was made Poet Laureate in 1813, and was the first to raise that
office from the low estate into which it had fallen since the death of
Dryden. The opening lines of Thalaba, beginning,
How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air,
are still sometimes quoted; and a few of his best known short poems, like
"The Scholar," "Auld Cloots," "The Well of St. Keyne," "The Inchcape Rock,"
and "Lodore," will repay the curious reader. The beauty of Southey's
character, his patience and helpfulness, make him a worthy associate of the
two greater poets with whom he is generally named.
WALTER SCOTT (1771-1832)
We have already called attention to two significant movements of the
eighteenth century, which we must for a moment recall if we are to
appreciate Scott, not simply as a delightful teller of tales, but as a
tremendous force in modern literature. The first is the triumph of romantic
poetry in Wordsworth and Coleridge; the second is the success of our first
English novelists, and the popularization of literature by taking it from
the control of a few patrons and critics and putting it into the hands of
the people as one of the forces which mold our modern life. Scott is an
epitome of both these movements. The poetry of Wordsworth and Coleridge was
read by a select few, but Scott's _Marmion_ and _Lady of the Lake_ aroused
a whole nation to enthusiasm, and for the first time romantic poetry became
really popular. So also the novel had been content to paint men and women
of the present, until the wonderful series of Waverley novels appeared,
when suddenly, by the magic of this "Wizard of the North," all history
seemed changed. The past, which had hitherto appeared as a dreary region of
dead heroes, became alive again, and filled with a multitude of men and
women who had the surprising charm of reality. It is of small consequence
that Scott's poetry and prose are both faulty; that his poems are read
chiefly for the story, rather than for their poetic excellence; and that
much of the evident crudity and barbarism of the Middle Ages is ignored or
forgotten in Scott's writings. By their vigor, their freshness, their rapid
action, and their breezy, out-of-door atmosphere, Scott's novels attracted
thousands of readers who else had known nothing of the delights of
literature. He is, therefore, the greatest known factor in establishing and
in popularizing that romantic element in prose and poetry which has been
for a hundred years the chief characteristic of our literature.
LIFE. Scott was born in Edinburgh, on August 15, 1771. On both his mother's
and father's side he was descended from old Border families, distinguished
more for their feuds and fighting than for their intellectual attainments.
His father was a barrister, a just man, who often lost clients by advising
them to be, first of all, honest in their lawsuits. His mother was a woman
of character and education, strongly imaginative, a teller of tales which
stirred young Walter's enthusiasm by revealing the past as a world of
living heroes.
As a child, Scott was lame and delicate, and was therefore sent away from
the city to be with his grandmother in the open country at Sandy Knowe, in
Roxburghshire, near the Tweed. This grandmother was a perfect treasure-
house of legends concerning the old Border feuds. From her wonderful tales
Scott developed that intense love of Scottish history and tradition which
characterizes all his work.
By the time he was eight years old, when he returned to Edinburgh, Scott's