"In the preceding note I think I took Taylor's words in too literal a sense." In a note on Luther, he had said, (vol. IV. p. 23)— "Both in Paul and Luther there is one fearful blank, the wisdom or necessity of which I do not doubt, yet cannot help groping and staring after, like one that stares in the dark; and this is death. The law makes us afraid of death: what is death? An unhappy life? Who does not feel the insufficiency of this answer? What analogy does immortal suffering bear to the only death that is known to us?" To this, in an appendix, was afterwards added— "Since I wrote the above, God has, I humbly trust, given me a clearer light as to the true nature of the death so often mentioned in the Scriptures." Again, (vol. III. p. 33,) to a previous comment on Luther, he adds in July, 1829 "I should not have written the above note in my present state of light; not that I find it false, but that it may have the effect of falsehood by not going deep enough." In the same manner, (vol. IV. p. 296,) after a criticism on John v. 16-19, dated 1803, he afterwards added "The above was written many years ago; I still think the remark plausible, though I should not now express myself so positively." One more instance to the same purpose. On the margin of Baxter's account of his trials, and the supports he received in answer to the prayers of his friends, Coleridge had written, (vol. IV. p. 91) "Strange that the common manuals of school logic should not have secured Baxter from the repeated blunder of 'cum hoc-ergo-propter hoc; but still more strange that his piety should not have revolted against degrading prayer into medical quackery." On the 7th page following, he adds "Alas, in how many respects does my lot resemble Baxter's; but how much less have my bodily evils been, and yet how very much greater an impediment have I suffered them to be! But, verily, Baxter's labours seem miracles of supporting grace. Ought I not, then, to retract the note p. 80?-I waver." Such is a specimen of the manner in which Coleridge himself treats his own notes, freely confirming, modifying, or entirely rejecting their sentiments, and never appearing to feel himself bound to defend and maintain, or even to apologize for recanting them. Not being written for publication, or designed to express the settled opinions of the writer, but merely to secure the suggestions of the moment for future use, or for the amusement of a friend; they have never been presented, either by their author or editor, as authoritative exponents of the philosopher's doctrines, as maturely held and published by himself. Moreover, the length of the period during which they were written, reaching back into the Unitarian and skeptical portion of his life, in connection with the fact, that the greater part of them being thrown away on the margins of other people's books, could never have been reviewed by their author; renders the great mass of these "notes," whose dates are uncertain, but doubtful representations of his fixed and final opinions. RHYTHM. WHY is it that acknowledged masters in the Poetic Art, to the common ear, produce a melody inferior to that of second rate performers? Or, Or, INSTANCES. "Ominous conjecture on the whole success.' Moved on; with difficulty and labour he." MILTON. "All strength, all terror, single or in bands, "How exquisitely the individual mind." "The divine Milton! lore of different kind." WORDSWORTH. "A doctor of physic rode with us along, There was none like him in this wide world's throng." "And yet he was but moderate in expense, He hoarded what he gained in the pestilence." "He hollow looked and sober, and ill fed, His uppermost short cloak was a bare thread." CHAUCER, modernized. In contrast with "So pleased in youth, the towering Alps we try, And the first clouds and mountains seem the last. POPE. Or, "Like the gale that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hours; Though the flowers have sunk in death; His memory lives in music's breath." MOORE. It may be objected, with some force, to the above contrast, that the examples selected are from different kinds of poetry, some of which require more of the sweetness of music in their rhythm, than others; and that the first specimens are deprived, by their fragmentary character, of the projected momentum of a full current of rhythm, which so sweetly rolls and overflows through the latter; nevertheless, the general fact is true, as exemplified, and the difficulty is not diminished by the following facts. 1. High authority in criticism has pronounced this apparent roughness in the masters of poetry, to be real, and con demned it as faulty. Johnson says of Milton, “Some of his lines are remarkably defective." "The variety of pauses so much boasted by the lovers of blank verse, changes the measures of an English poet to the periods of a declaimer: and there are only a few skilful and happy readers of Milton, who enable their audience to perceive where the lines end or begin." He also thinks that Milton, absorbed in the majesty of his theme, paid little attention to the music of his verse. Pope, also, the great master of "smooth" rhythm, taught the same doctrine, "But most by numbers judge a poet's song, And smooth or rough with them is right or wrong; 'Tis plain, the poet agrees with the "tuneful fools," in considering "smoothness" the essential quality of the muse's voice. 2. In opposition to all this, not a poet of a high order but has left indisputable evidence of his ability to produce as mellifluous strains as ever intoxicated mortal ears. Listen to this of Milton, after "the impetuous recoil and jarring sound" of his lines already quoted "And ever against eating cares, Such as the meeting soul may pierce |