This day among the faithful placed,
And fed with fontal manna,
O with maternal title graced
Dear Anna's dearest Anna!
While others wish thee wise and fair,
A maid of spotless fame,
I'll breathe this more compendious prayer
May'st thou deserve thy name!
Thy mother's name a potent spell,
That bids the virtues hie
From mystic grove and living cell
Confess'd to fancy's eye;
Meek quietness without offence;
Content in homespun kirtle;
True love; and true love's innocence,
White blossom of the myrtle!
Associates of thy name, sweet child!
These virtues may'st thou win;
With face as eloquently mild
To say, they lodge within.
So, when her tale of days all flown,
Thy mother shall be mist here;
When Heaven at length shall claim its own,
And angels snatch their sister;
Some hoary-headed friend, perchance,
May gaze with stifled breath;
And oft, in momentary trance,
Forget the waste of death.
Ev'n thus a lovely rose I view'd,
In summer-swelling pride;
Nor mark'd the bud, that green and rude
Peep'd at the rose's side.
It chanced, I pass'd again that way
In autumn's latest hour,
And wond'ring saw the selfsame spray
Rich with the selfsame flower.
Ah, fond deceit! the rude green bud
Alike in shape, place, name,
Had bloom'd, where bloom'd its parent stud,
Another and the same!
Hoarse Maevius reads his hobbling verse
To all, and at all times;
And finds them both divinely smooth,
His voice, as well as rhymes.
Yet folks say "Maevius is no ass:"
But Maevius makes it clear,
That he's a monster of an ass,
An ass without an ear.
in Nether Stowey Church
Lætus abi! mundi strepitu curisque remotus;
Lætus abi! cæli qua vocat alma quies.
Ipsa Fides loquitur, lacrymamque incusat inanem,
Quæ cadit in vestros, care pater, cineres.
Heu! tantum liceat meritos hos solvere ritus,
Et longum tremula dicere voce, Vale!
Translation
Depart in joy from this world's noise and strife
To the deep quiet of celestial life!
Depart! Affection's self reproves the tear
Which falls, O honour'd Parent! on thy bier;
Yet Nature will be heard, the heart will swell,
And the voice tremble with a last Farewell!
The following poem is intended as the introduction to a
somewhat longer one. The use of the old ballad word Ladie
for Lady, is the only piece of obsoleteness in it; and as it is
professedly a tale of ancient times, I trust that the
affectionate lovers of venerable antiquity, as Camden says, will
grant me their pardon, and perhaps may be induced to admit a
force and propriety in it. A heavier objection may be adduced
against the author, that in these times of fear and expectation,
when novelties explode around us in all directions, he should
presume to offer to the public a silly tale of old-fashioned
love: and five years ago, I own I should have allowed and felt
the force of this objection. But alas! explosion has succeeded
explosion so rapidly, that novelty itself ceases to appear new;
and it is possible that now, even a simple story, wholly
uninspired with politics or personality, may find some attention
amid the hubbub of revolutions, as to those who have remained a
long time by the falls of Niagara, the lowest whispering becomes
distinctly audible.
1799.
O leave the lily on its stem;
O leave the rose upon the spray;
O leave the elder-bloom, fair maids!
And listen to my lay.
A cypress and a myrtle-bough
This morn around my harp you twin'd,
Because it fashion'd mournfully
Its murmurs in the wind.
And now a tale of love and woe,
A woful tale of love I sing;
Hark, gentle maidens, hark! it sighs
And trembles on the string.
But most, my own dear Genevieve,
It sighs and trembles most for thee!
O come and hear the cruel wrongs
Befell the Dark Ladie! 1
...
And now once more a tale of woe,
A woful tale of love I sing;
For thee, my Genevieve! it sighs,
And trembles on the string.
When last I sang the cruel scorn
That craz'd this bold and lovely knight,
And how he roam'd the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day or night;
I promised thee a sister tale
Of man's perfidious cruelty;
Come, then, and hear what cruel wrong
Befell the Dark Ladie.
an uncomposed poem
We ask and urge (here ends the story!)
All Christian Papishes to pray
That this unhappy Conjuror may,
Instead of Hell, be but in Purgatory,
For then there's hope;
Long live the Pope!
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name
But of the soul, escap'd the slavish trade
Of mortal life! For in this earthly frame
Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame,
Manifold motions making little speed,
And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.
How seldom, Friend! a good great man inherits
Honour or wealth, with all his worth and pains!
It sounds like stories from the land of spirits,
If any man obtain that which he merits,
Or any merit that which he obtains.
For shame, dear Friend! renounce this canting strain!
What would'st thou have a good great man obtain?
Place titles salary a gilded chain
Or throne of corses which his sword hath slain?
Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends!
Hath he not always treasures, always friends,
The good great man? three treasures, love and light,
And calm thoughts, regular as infants' breath;
And three firm friends, more sure than day and night
Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.
composed before day-light on the morning appointed for the
departure of a very worthy, but not very pleasant visitor, whom
it was feared the rain might detain
I know it is dark; and though I have lain
Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain,
I have not once open'd the lids of my eyes,
But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.
0 Rain! that I lie listening to,
You're but a doleful sound at best:
I owe you little thanks, 'tis true,
For breaking thus my needful rest!
Yet if, as soon as it is light,
O Rain! you will but take your flight,
I'll neither rail, nor malice keep,
Though sick and sore for want of sleep.
But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!
O Rain! with your dull two-fold sound,
The clash hard by, and the murmur all round!
You know, if you know aught, that we,
Both night and day, but ill agree:
For days, and months, and almost years,
Have limped on through this vale of tears,
Since body of mine, and rainy weather,
Have lived on easy terms together.
Yet if, as soon as it is light,
O Rain! you will but take your flight,
Though you should come again to-morrow,
And bring with you both pain and sorrow;
Though stomach should sicken, and knees should swell
I'll nothing speak of you but well.
But only now for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!
Dear Rain! I ne'er refused to say
You're a good creature in your way.
Nay, I could write a book myself,
Would fit a parson's lower shelf,
Showing, how very good you are.
What then? sometimes it must be fair!
And if sometimes, why not to-day?
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!
Dear Rain! if I've been cold and shy,
Take no offence! I'll tell you why.
A dear old Friend e'en now is here,
And with him came my sister dear;
After long absence now first met,
Long months by pain and grief beset
With three dear friends! in truth, we groan
Impatiently to be alone.
We three, you mark! and not one more!
The strong wish makes my spirit sore.
We have so much to talk about,
So many sad things to let out;
So many tears in our eye-corners,
Sitting like little Jacky Horners
In short, as soon as it is day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away.
And this I'll swear to you, dear Rain!
Whenever you shall come again,
Be you as dull as e'er you could;
(And by the bye 'tis understood,
You're not so pleasant, as you're good;)
Yet, knowing well your worth and place,
I'll welcome you with cheerful face;
And though you stay'd a week or more,
Were ten times duller than before;
Yet with kind heart, and right good will,
I'll sit and listen to you still;
Nor should you go away, dear Rain!
Uninvited to remain.
But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away.
in Ottfried's Metrical Paraphrase of the Gospels
"This Paraphrase, written about the time of Charlemagne, is by no
means deficient in occasional passages of considerable poetic
merit. There is a flow, and a tender enthusiasm in the following
lines (at the conclusion of Chapter V.), which even in the
translation will not, I flatter myself, fail to interest the
reader. Ottfried is describing the circumstances immediately
following the birth of our Lord." Biog. Lit. vol. i.
p. 203.
She gave with joy her virgin breast;
She hid it not, she bared the breast,
Which suckled that divinest babe!
Blessed, blessed were the breasts
Which the Saviour infant kiss'd;
And blessed, blessed was the mother
Who wrapp'd his limbs in swaddling clothes,
Singing placed him on her lap,
Hung o'er him with her looks of love,
And soothed him with a lulling motion.
Blessed! for she shelter'd him
From the damp and chilling air;
Blessed, blessed! for she lay
With such a babe in one blest bed,
Close as babes and mothers lie!
Blessed, blessed evermore,
With her virgin lips she kiss'd,
With her arms, and to her breast,
She embraced the babe divine,
Her babe divine the virgin mother!
There lives not on this ring of earth
A mortal that can sing her praise.
Mighty mother, virgin pure,
In the darkness and the night
For us she bore the heavenly Lord.
on the death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales.
from the Hebrew of Hyman Hurwitz
Mourn, Israel! Sons of Israel, mourn!
Give utterance to the inward throe,
As wails of her first love forlorn
The virgin clad in robes of woe!
Mourn the young mother snatch'd away
From light and life's ascending sun!
Mourn for the babe, death's voiceless prey,
Earn'd by long pangs, and lost ere won!
Mourn the bright rose that bloom'd and went,
Ere half disclosed its vernal hue!
Mourn the green bud, so rudely rent,
It brake the stem on which it grew!
Mourn for the universal woe,
With solemn dirge and falt'ring tongue;
For England's Lady is laid low,
So dear, so lovely, and so young!
The blossoms on her tree of life
Shone with the dews of recent bliss;
Translated in that deadly strife
She plucks its fruit in Paradise.
Mourn for the prince, who rose at morn
To seek and bless the firstling bud
Of his own rose, and found the thorn,
Its point bedew'd with tears of blood.
Mourn for Britannia's hopes decay'd;
Her daughters wail their dear defence,
Their fair example, prostrate laid,
Chaste love, and fervid innocence!
O Thou! who mark'st the monarch's path,
To sad Jeshurun's sons attend!
Amid the lightnings of thy wrath
The showers of consolation send!
Jehovah frowns! The Islands bow,
And prince and people kiss the rod!
Their dread chastising judge wert Thou
Be Thou their comforter, O God!
The rose that blushes like the morn
Bedecks the valleys low;
And so dost thou, sweet infant corn,
My Angelina's toe.
But on the rose there grows a thorn
That breeds disastrous woe;
And so dost thou, remorseless corn,
On Angelina's toe.
This way or that, ye Powers above me!
I of my grief were rid
Did Enna either really love me,
Or cease to think she did.
We pledged our hearts, my love and I,
I in my arms the maiden clasping;
I could not tell the reason why,
But, oh! I trembled like an aspen.
Her father's love she bade me gain;
I went, and shook like any reed!
I strove to act the man in vain!
We had exchanged our hearts indeed.
Resembles life what once was deem'd of light,
Too ample in itself for human sight?
An absolute self an element ungrounded
All that we see, all colours of all shade
By encroach of darkness made?
Is very life by consciousness unbounded?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath,
A war-embrace of wrestling life and death?
Now! It is gone. Our brief hours travel post,
Each with its thought or deed, its Why or How:
But know, each parting hour gives up a ghost
To dwell within thee an eternal Now!
There are few families, at present, in the higher and middle
classes of English society, in which literary topics and the
productions of the Fine Arts, in some one or other of their
various forms, do not occasionally take their turn in
contributing to the entertainment of the social board, and the
amusement of the circle at the fire side. The acquisitions and
attainments of the intellect ought, indeed, to hold a very
inferior rank in our estimation, opposed to moral worth, or even
to professional and specific skill, prudence, and industry. But
why should they be opposed, when they may be made subservient
merely by being subordinated? It can rarely happen, that a man of
social disposition, altogether a stranger to subjects of taste,
(almost the only ones on which persons of both sexes can converse
with a common interest) should pass through the world without at
times feeling dissatisfied with himself. The best proof of this
is to be found in the marked anxiety which men, who have
succeeded in life without the aid of these accomplishments, shew
in securing them to their children. A young man of ingenuous mind
will not wilfully deprive himself of any species of respect. He
will wish to feel himself on a level with the average of the
society in which he lives, though he may be ambitious of
distinguishing himself only in his own immediate pursuit or
occupation.
Under this conviction, the following Course of Lectures
was planned. The several titles will best explain the particular
subjects and purposes of each: but the main objects proposed, as
the result of all, are the two following.
1. To convey, in a form best fitted to render them impressive at
the time, and remembered afterwards, rules and principles of
sound judgment, with a kind and degree of connected information,
such as the hearers cannot generally be supposed likely to form,
collect, and arrange for themselves, by their own unassisted
studies. It might be presumption to say, that any important part
of these Lectures could not be derived from books; but none, I
trust, in supposing, that the same information could not be so
surely or conveniently acquired from such books as are of
commonest occurrence, or with that quantity of time and attention
which can be reasonably expected, or even wisely desired, of men
engaged in business and the active duties of the world.
2. Under a strong persuasion that little of real value is derived
by persons in general from a wide and various reading; but still
more deeply convinced as to the actual mischief of unconnected
and promiscuous reading, and that it is sure, in a greater or
less degree, to enervate even where it does not likewise inflate;
I hope to satisfy many an ingenuous mind, seriously interested in
its own development and cultivation, how moderate a number of
volumes, if only they be judiciously chosen, will suffice for the
attainment of every wise and desirable purpose; that is, in
addition to those which he studies for specific and professional
purposes. It is saying less than the truth to affirm, that an
excellent book (and the remark holds almost equally good of a
Raphael as of a Milton) is like a well chosen and well tended
fruit tree. Its fruits are not of one season only. With the due
and natural intervals, we may recur to it year after year, and it
will supply the same nourishment and the same gratification, if
only we ourselves return to it with the same healthful
appetite.
The subjects of the Lectures are indeed very different, but not
(in the strict sense of the term) diverse; they are various,
rather than miscellaneous. There is this bond of connexion common
to them all, that the mental pleasure which they are
calculated to excite is not dependent on accidents of fashion,
place, or age, or the events or the customs of the day; but
commensurate with the good sense, taste, and feeling, to the
cultivation of which they themselves so largely contribute, as
being all in kind, though not all in the same degree, productions
of genius.
What it would be arrogant to promise, I may yet be permitted to
hope, that the execution will prove correspondent and
adequate to the plan. Assuredly, my best efforts have not been
wanting so to select and prepare the materials, that, at the
conclusion of the Lectures, an attentive auditor, who should
consent to aid his future recollection by a few notes taken
either during each Lecture or soon after, would rarely feel
himself, for the time to come, excluded, from taking an
intelligent interest in any general conversation likely to occur
in mixed society.
Syllabus of the Course.
I. January 27, l8l8. On the manners, morals,
literature, philosophy, religion, and the state of society in
general, in European Christendom, from the eighth to the
fifteenth century, (that is from A.D. 700, to A.D. 1400), more
particularly in reference to England, France, Italy and Germany;
in other words, a portrait of the so called dark ages of
Europe.
II. January 30. On the tales and metrical romances
common, for the most part, to England, Germany, and the north of
France, and on the English songs and ballads, continued to the
reign of Charles I. A few selections will be made from the
Swedish, Danish, and German languages, translated for the purpose
by the Lecturer.
III. February 3. Chaucer and Spenser; of Petrarch;
of Ariosto, Pulci, and Boiardo.
IV. V. VI. February 6, 10, l3. On the dramatic works
of Shakspeare. In these Lectures will be comprised the substance
of Mr. Coleridge's former courses on the same subject, enlarged
and varied by subsequent study and reflection.
Note: These lectures have not been included in the original
text. html Ed.
VII. February l7. On Ben Jonson, Beaumont and
Fletcher, and Massinger; with the probable causes of the
cessation of dramatic poetry in England with Shirley and Otway,
soon after the restoration of Charles II.
VIII. February 20. Of the life and all the works of
Cervantes, but chiefly of his Don Quixote. The ridicule of knight
errantry shewn to have been but a secondary object in the mind of
the author, and not the principal cause of the delight which the
work continues to give to all nations, and under all the
revolutions of manners and opinions.
IX. February 24. On Rabelais, Swift, and Sterne: on
the nature and constituents of genuine Humour, and on the
distinctions of the Humorous from the Witty, the Fanciful, the
Droll, and the Odd.
X. February 27. Of Donne, Dante, and Milton.
XI. March 3. On the Arabian Nights' Entertainments,
and on the romantic use of the supernatural in poetry, and in
works of fiction not poetical. On the conditions and regulations
under which such books may be employed advantageously in the
earlier periods of education.
XII. March 6. On tales of witches, apparitions, &c.
as distinguished from the magic and magicians of Asiatic origin.
The probable sources of the former, and of the belief in them in
certain ages and classes of men. Criteria by which mistaken and
exaggerated facts may be distinguished from absolute falsehood
and imposture. Lastly, the causes of the terror and interest
which stories of ghosts and witches inspire, in early life at
least, whether believed or not.
XIII. March 10. On colour, sound, and form in
Nature, as connected with poesy: the word "Poesy" used as the
generic or class term, including poetry, music, painting,
statuary, and ideal architecture, as its species. The reciprocal
relations of poetry and philosophy to each other; and of both to
religion, and the moral sense.
XIV. March 13. On the corruptions of the English
language since the reign of Queen Ann, in our style of writing
prose. A few easy rules for the attainment of a manly, unaffected
and pure language, in our genuine mother tongue, whether for the
purpose of writing, oratory, or conversation.
Mr. Coleridge began by treating of the races
of mankind as descended from Shem, Ham, and Japhet, and therein
of the early condition of man in his antique form. He then dwelt
on the pre-eminence of the Greeks in Art and Philosophy, and
noticed the suitableness of polytheism to small insulated states,
in which patriotism acted as a substitute for religion, in
destroying or suspending self. Afterwards, in consequence of the
extension of the Roman empire, some universal or common spirit
became necessary for the conservation of the vast body, and this
common spirit was, in fact, produced in Christianity. The causes
of the decline of the Roman empire were in operation long before
the time of the actual overthrow; that overthrow had been
foreseen by many eminent Romans, especially by Seneca. In fact,
there was under the empire an Italian and a German party in Rome,
and in the end the latter prevailed.
He then proceeded to describe the generic character of the
Northern nations, and defined it as an independence of the whole
in the freedom of the individual, noticing their respect for
women, and their consequent chivalrous spirit in war; and how
evidently the participation in the general council laid the
foundation of the representative form of government, the only
rational mode of preserving individual liberty in opposition to
the licentious democracy of the ancient republics.
He called our attention to the peculiarity of their art, and
showed how it entirely depended on a symbolical expression of the
infinite, which is not vastness, nor immensity, nor
perfection, but whatever cannot be circumscribed within the
limits of actual sensuous being. In the ancient art, on the
contrary, every thing was finite and material. Accordingly,
sculpture was not attempted by the Gothic races till the ancient
specimens were discovered, whilst painting and architecture were
of native growth amongst them. In the earliest specimens of the
paintings of modern ages, as in those of Giotto and his
associates in the cemetery at Pisa, this complexity, variety, and
symbolical character are evident, and are more fully developed in
the mightier works of Michel Angelo and Raffael. The
contemplation of the works of antique art excites a feeling of
elevated beauty, and exalted notions of the human self; but the
Gothic architecture impresses the beholder with a sense of
self-annihilation; he becomes, as it were, a part of the work
contemplated. An endless complexity and variety are united into
one whole, the plan of which is not distinct from the execution.
A Gothic cathedral is the petrefaction of our religion. The only
work of truly modern sculpture is the Moses of Michel Angelo.
The Northern nations were prepared by their own previous religion
for Christianity; they, for the most part, received it gladly,
and it took root as in a native soil. The deference to woman,
characteristic of the Gothic races, combined itself with devotion
in the idea of the Virgin Mother, and gave rise to many beautiful
associations. Mr. C. remarked how Gothic an instrument in origin
and character the organ was.
He also enlarged on the influence of female character on our
education, the first impressions of our childhood being derived
from women. Amongst oriental nations, he said, the only
distinction was between lord and slave. With the antique Greeks,
the will of every one conflicting with the will of all, produced
licentiousness; with the modern descendants from the northern
stocks, both these extremes were shut out, to reappear mixed and
condensed into this principle or temper; submission, but
with free choice, illustrated in chivalrous devotion to
women as such, in attachment to the sovereign, &c.
Footnote 1:
From Mr. Green's note taken at the delivery. Ed.
return to footnote mark
In my last lecture I stated that the descendants of Japhet and
Shem peopled Europe and Asia, fulfilling in their distribution
the prophecies of Scripture, while the descendants of Ham passed
into Africa, there also actually verifying the interdiction
pronounced against them. The Keltic and Teutonic nations occupied
that part of Europe, which is now France, Britain, Germany,
Sweden, Denmark, &c. They were in general a hardy race,
possessing great fortitude, and capable of great endurance. The
Romans slowly conquered the more southerly portion of their
tribes, and succeeded only by their superior arts, their policy,
and better discipline. After a time, when the Goths, to use
the name of the noblest and most historical of the Teutonic
tribes, had acquired some knowledge of these arts from
mixing with their conquerors, they invaded the Roman territories.
The hardy habits, the steady perseverance, the better faith of
the enduring Goth rendered him too formidable an enemy for the
corrupt Roman, who was more inclined to purchase the subjection
of his enemy, than to go through the suffering necessary to
secure it. The conquest of the Romans gave to the Goths the
Christian religion as it was then existing in Italy; and the
light and graceful building of Grecian, or Roman-Greek order,
became singularly combined with the massy architecture of the
Goths, as wild and varied as the forest vegetation which it
resembled. The Greek art is beautiful. When I enter a Greek
church, my eye is charmed, and my mind elated; I feel exalted,
and proud that I am a man. But the Gothic art is sublime. On
entering a cathedral, I am filled with devotion and with awe; I
am lost to the actualities that surround me, and my whole being
expands into the infinite; earth and air, nature and art, all
swell up into eternity, and the only sensible impression left,
is, 'that I am nothing!' This religion, while it tended to soften
the manners of the Northern tribes, was at the same time highly
congenial to their nature. The Goths are free from the stain of
hero worship. Gazing on their rugged mountains, surrounded by
impassable forests, accustomed to gloomy seasons, they lived in
the bosom of nature, and worshipped an invisible and unknown
deity. Firm in his faith, domestic in his habits, the life of the
Goth was simple and dignified, yet tender and affectionate.
The Greeks were remarkable for complacency and completion; they
delighted in whatever pleased the eye; to them it was not enough
to have merely the idea of a divinity, they must have it placed
before them, shaped in the most perfect symmetry, and presented
with the nicest judgment; and if we look upon any Greek
production of art, the beauty of its parts, and the harmony of
their union, the complete and complacent effect of the whole, are
the striking characteristics. It is the same in their poetry. In
Homer you have a poem perfect in its form, whether originally so,
or from the labour of after critics, I know not; his descriptions
are pictures brought vividly before you, and as far as the eye
and understanding are concerned, I am indeed gratified. But if I
wish my feelings to be affected, if I wish my heart to be
touched, if I wish to melt into sentiment and tenderness, I must
turn to the heroic songs of the Goths, to the poetry of the
middle ages. The worship of statues in Greece had, in a civil
sense, its advantage, and disadvantage; advantage, in promoting
statuary and the arts; disadvantage, in bringing their gods too
much on a level with human beings, and thence depriving them of
their dignity, and gradually giving rise to scepticism and
ridicule. But no statue, no artificial emblem, could satisfy the
Northman's mind; the dark wild imagery of nature, which
surrounded him, and the freedom of his life, gave his mind a
tendency to the infinite, so that he found rest in that which
presented no end, and derived satisfaction from that which was
indistinct.
We have few and uncertain vestiges of Gothic literature till the
time of Theodoric, who encouraged his subjects to write, and who
made a collection of their poems. These consisted chiefly of
heroic songs, sung at the Court; for at that time this was the
custom. Charlemagne, in the beginning of the ninth century,
greatly encouraged letters, and made a further collection of the
poems of his time, among which were several epic poems of great
merit; or rather in strictness there was a vast cycle of heroic
poems, or minstrelsies, from and out of which separate poems were
composed. The form of poetry was, however, for the most part, the
metrical romance and heroic tale. Charlemagne's army, or a large
division of it, was utterly destroyed in the Pyrenees, when
returning from a successful attack on the Arabs of Navarre and
Arragon; yet the name of Roncesvalles became famous in the songs
of the Gothic poets. The Greeks and Romans would not have done
this; they would not have recorded in heroic verse the death and
defeat of their fellow-countrymen. But the Goths, firm in their
faith, with a constancy not to be shaken, celebrated those brave
men who died for their religion and their country! What, though
they had been defeated, they died without fear, as they had lived
without reproach; they left no stain on their names, for they
fell fighting for their God, their liberty, and their rights; and
the song that sang that day's reverse animated them to future
victory and certain vengeance.
I must now turn to our great monarch, Alfred, one of the most
august characters that any age has ever produced; and when I
picture him after the toils of government and the dangers of
battle, seated by a solitary lamp, translating the holy
scriptures into the Saxon tongue, when I reflect on his
moderation in success, on his fortitude and perseverance in
difficulty and defeat, and on the wisdom and extensive nature of
his legislation, I am really at a loss which part of this great
man's character most to admire. Yet above all, I see the
grandeur, the freedom, the mildness, the domestic unity, the
universal character of the middle ages condensed into Alfred's
glorious institution of the trial by jury. I gaze upon it as the
immortal symbol of that age; an age called indeed dark;
but how could that age be considered dark, which solved the
difficult problem of universal liberty, freed man from the
shackles of tyranny, and subjected his actions to the decision of
twelve of his fellow countrymen? The liberty of the Greeks was a
phenomenon, a meteor, which blazed for a short time, and then
sank into eternal darkness. It was a combination of most opposite
materials, slavery and liberty. Such can neither be happy nor
lasting. The Goths on the other hand said, You shall be our
Emperor; but we must be Princes on our own estates, and over them
you shall have no power! The Vassals said to their Prince, We
will serve you in your wars, and defend your castle; but we must
have liberty in our own circle, our cottage, our cattle, our
proportion of land. The Cities said, We acknowledge you for our
Emperor; but we must have our walls and our strong holds, and be
governed by our own laws. Thus all combined, yet all were
separate; all served, yet all were free. Such a government could
not exist in a dark age. Our ancestors may not indeed have been
deep in the metaphysics of the schools; they may not have shone
in the fine arts; but much knowledge of human nature, much
practical wisdom must have existed amongst them, when this
admirable constitution was formed; and I believe it is a decided
truth, though certainly an awful lesson, that nations are not the
most happy at the time when literature and the arts flourish the
most among them.
The translations I had promised in my syllabus I shall defer to
the end of the course, when I shall give a single lecture of
recitations illustrative of the different ages of poetry. There
is one Northern tale I will relate, as it is one from which
Shakspeare derived that strongly marked and extraordinary scene
between Richard III. and the Lady Anne. It may not be equal to
that in strength and genius, but it is, undoubtedly, superior in
decorum and delicacy.
A Knight had slain a Prince, the lord of a strong castle, in
combat. He afterwards contrived to get into the castle, where he
obtained an interview with the Princess's attendant, whose life
he had saved in some encounter; he told her of his love for her
mistress, and won her to his interest. She then slowly and
gradually worked on her mistress's mind, spoke of the beauty of
his person, the fire of his eyes, the sweetness of his voice, his
valour in the field, his gentleness in the court; in short, by
watching her opportunities, she at last filled the Princess's
soul with this one image; she became restless; sleep forsook her;
her curiosity to see this Knight became strong; but her maid
still deferred the interview, till at length she confessed she
was in love with him; the Knight is then introduced, and
the nuptials are quickly celebrated.
In this age there was a tendency in writers to the droll and the
grotesque, and in the little dramas which at that time existed,
there were singular instances of these. It was the disease of the
age. It is a remarkable fact that Luther and Melancthon, the
great religious reformers of that day, should have strongly
recommended for the education of children, dramas, which at
present would be considered highly indecorous, if not bordering
on a deeper sin. From one which they particularly recommended, I
will give a few extracts; more I should not think it right to do.
The play opens with
Adam and Eve washing and dressing their children to appear before
the Lord, who is coming from heaven to hear them repeat the
Lord's Prayer, Belief, &c. In the next scene the Lord appears
seated like a schoolmaster, with the children standing round,
when Cain, who is behind hand, and a sad pickle, comes running in
with a bloody nose and his hat on. Adam says, "What, with your
hat on!" Cain then goes up to shake hands with the Almighty, when
Adam says (giving him a cuff), "Ah, would you give your left hand
to the Lord?" At length Cain takes his place in the class, and it
becomes his turn to say the Lord's Prayer. At this time the Devil
(a constant attendant at that time) makes his appearance, and
getting behind Cain, whispers in his ear; instead of the Lord's
Prayer, Cain gives it so changed by the transposition of the
words, that the meaning is reversed; yet this is so artfully done
by the author, that it is exactly as an obstinate child would
answer, who knows his lesson, yet does not choose to say it. In
the last scene, horses in rich trappings and carriages covered
with gold are introduced, and the good children are to ride in
them and be Lord Mayors, Lords, &c.; Cain and the bad ones are to
be made cobblers and tinkers, and only to associate with
such.
This, with numberless others, was written by Hans Sachs. Our
simple ancestors, firm in their faith, and pure in their morals,
were only amused by these pleasantries, as they seemed to them,
and neither they nor the reformers feared their having any
influence hostile to religion. When I was many years back in the
north of Germany, there were several innocent superstitions in
practice. Among others at Christmas, presents used to be given to
the children by the parents, and they were delivered on Christmas
day by a person who personated, and was supposed by the children
to be, Christ: early on Christmas morning he called, knocking
loudly at the door, and (having received his instructions) left
presents for the good and a rod for the bad. Those who have since
been in Germany have found this custom relinquished; it was
considered profane and irrational. Yet they have not found the
children better, nor the mothers more careful of their offspring;
they have not found their devotion more fervent, their faith more
strong, nor their morality more pure. 2
Footnote 1:
From Mr. William Hammond's note taken at the delivery.
Ed.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
See this custom of Knecht Rupert more minutely described in Mr.
Coleridge's own letter from Germany, published in the 2nd vol. of
the Friend, p. 320. Ed.; also in the 1st vol. of
the Bibliographia Epistolaris, currently also available in
both .txt and .html form, free for download from
Project Gutenberg. html
Ed.