strike me as accomplishments. And, to do her justice, I must that I am persuaded that the consciousness of them occupies as little room in her own thoughts. say "Accomplishments, what are they? why truly the very want of the French, Italian, smattering of terms without relation to things or properties of any kind, and piano-fortery, which meets one now with Jack-o'-lantern ubiquity, in every first and second story, in every street, is become a presumptive accomplishment as the being free from debt is a negative stock. Mrs. C . . . had no meretricious accomplishments. Did you ever suspect, from anything I ever said, that this lay in the way of my domestic happiness? And she, too, had no accomplishments, to whom the man in the poet sighed forth the 'Dear maid! no prattler at a mother's knee Was e'er so deeply prized as I prize thee, Why was I made for love, and love denied to me?'" The following letter addressed to me, arrived on ChristmasEve, and was opened by Mrs. .; who replied that I was spending my Christmas with my parents, but that had I been at home this was a season of family re-unions. This will serve to explain the letter which follows; which I give to show the pain caused by a slight misapprehension, and the great anxiety of the writer to remove an erroneous impression. LETTER XXXV. MY DEAREST ALLSOP, Dec. 24th, 1823. I forgot to ask you, and so did Mr. and Mrs. G. whether you could dine with us on Christmas-day-or on New Year's-day-or on both! If you can, need I say that I shall be glad. My noisy forge-hammer is still busy; quick, thick, and fervent. With kindest regards to Mrs. Allsop, T. Allsop, Esq. Your ever faithful and affectionate, S. T. COLERIDGE. LETTER XXXVI. MY DEAR MRS. ALLSOP, Indeed, indeed you have sadly misunderstood my lasthurried note. So over and over again has Mr. Allsop been assured that every invitation to him included you, so often has he been asked to consider one meant for both, that in a few lines scrawled in the dark, with a distracting, quick, thick, and noisy beating as of a distant forge-hammer in my head, and, lastly, written, not so much under any expectation of seeing him (in fact for Christmas-day I had none), as from a nervous jealousy of any customary mark of respect and affection being omitted, the ceremony of EXPRESSING your name did not occur to me. But the blame, whatever it be, lies with me, wholly, exclusively on me; for on asking Mr. Gillman whether an invitation had been sent to you, he replied by asking me if I had not spoken, and on my saying it was now too late, he still desired me to write, his words being,—“ For though Allsop must know how glad we always are to see him, yet still, as far as it is a mark of respect, it is his due." Accordingly I wrote. But after the letter had been sent to the post, on going to Mrs. Gillman to learn how she was, and saying that I had just scrawled a note in the dark in order not to miss the post, she expressed her disapprobation as nearly as I can remember in these words:" I do not think a mere ceremony any mark of respect to intimate friends. How, in such weather as this, and short days, can it be supposed that Mrs. Allsop could either leave the children or take them? But to expect Mr. Allsop to dine away from his family at this time is what I would not even appear to do, for I should think it very wrong if he did." I was vexed, and could only reply, "This comes of doing things of a hurry. However, Allsop knows me too well to attribute to me any other feeling or purpose than the real ones." I give you my word and honour, my dear madame, that these were, to the best of my recollection, the very words; but I am quite CERTAIN that they contain the same substance. And for this reason, knowing how it would vex and fret on her spirits that you had been offended, and (if the letter of itself without any interpretation derived from the character or known sentiments of the writer were to decide it), justly offended, I have not shown her your note, nor mentioned the circumstance to her; for this sad accident has pulled her down sadly, coming too in conjunction with the distressful state of my health and spirits; for such is my state at present, that though I would myself have run any hazard to have spent to-morrow with Miss Southey, my own Sarah's friend and twin-sister, and with Miss Wordsworth at Monkhouse's, in Gloster-place; yet Mr. Gillman has both dissuaded and forbidden me as my medical adviser. I trust, therefore, that, finding Mrs. Gillman more than blameless, and that in me the blame was in the judgment and not in the intention, you will think no more of it, but do me the justice to believe that any intentions or feelings of which I have been conscious have ever been of a kind most contrary to any form of disrespect, omisive or commissive; to which, let me add, that I should be doing what Mr. Allsop (I am sure) would not do, if having shown you consciously any disrespect I continued to subscribe myself his friend, not to speak of any profession of being what in very truth I am, my dear Mrs. Allsop, Sincerely and affectionately yours, This letter is written in a very hurried and irregular manner, showing the exceeding pain the writer suffered from the thought of having hurt or offended another. Truly did he exemplify his own position, that great minds are ever gentle and affectionate. DEAR MRS. ALLSOP, LETTER XXXVII. Grove, Highgate, April 8th, 1824. There are three rolls of paper, Mr. Wordsworth's translation of the first, second, and third books, two in letter-paper, one in a little writing-book, in the drawer under the side-board in your dining-room. Be so good as to put them up and give them to the bearer should Mr. Allsop not be at home. MY DEAR ALLSOP, You I know will have approved of my instant compliance with Mr. Gillman's request of returning with him; and I know, too, that both Mrs. Allsop and yourself will think it superfluous in me to tell you what you must be sure I cannot but feel. I trust that when I next return from you, I shall have-not to thank you less-but with less painful recollections of the trouble and anxiety I have occasioned you. In the agitation of leaving Mrs. Allsop, I forgot to take with me the translation of Virgil. Could I, that is, dared I, wait till Sunday, I might make it one way of inducing you to spend the day with me. Upon the whole, however, I had better send than increase my anxieties, so I will send Riley with this note. My Grandfatherly love and kisses to the Fairy Prattler and the meek boy. I did heave a long-drawn wish this morning, as the sun and the air too were so genial, that the latter had been in the good woman's house at Highgate well wrapped up. A fortnight would do wonders for the dear little fellow. You and Mrs. Allsop may rely on it that I would see him every day during his stay here, if there were only one hour in which it did not rain vehemently. T. Allsop, Esq. God bless you, S. T. COLERIDGE. Thus early, my dear children, did you become the objects of his affection and affectionate solicitude. It is pleasant to me, almost as pleasant as it is painful, to recall those days, days when from many causes my anxieties were great and my position altogether most ungenial, and which, but for your dear sakes, and for one, then as now, dearer to me than all beside, would have been one of unmixed evil. From this position I have now happily escaped into a state of greater freedom, which, if it shall permit me to realise the objects of my earliest and steadfast aspirations, objects in which you, as Friends rather than as children, will have active and pleasant duties allotted, will leave me little more to wish, hardly anything to hope. This letter was written after a sojourn of about ten days in London, respecting which I have preserved the correspondence, but which, as it is of interest chiefly to myself, would be out of place here. It is a painful fact, if any general condition or facts can with propriety be said to be painful, that those alone who have been steeped in anxieties and in suffering can appreciate the anxieties or sufferings of others. Prosperous men avoid and eschew all approximation to distress or uneasiness in real life, however they may indulge in mental sympathy with suffering, or occasionally afford pecuniary assistance through the hands of third parties. Hence those who have themselves passed through mental and pecuniary distress are alone found |