ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS 1798 1798 "Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges." EUSEBIUS. This was suggested in front of Alfoxden. The Boy was a son of my friend, Basil Montagu, who had been two or three years under our care. The name of Kilve is from a village on the Bristol Channel, about a mile from Alfoxden; and the name of Liswyn Farm was taken from a beautiful spot on the Wye. When Mr. Coleridge, my Sister, and I had been visiting the famous John Thelwall, who had taken refuge from politics, after a trial for high treason, with a view to bring up his family by the profits of agriculture, which proved as unfortunate a speculation as that he had fled from, Coleridge and he had both been public lecturers; Coleridge mingling, with his politics, Theology, from which the other elocutionist abstained, unless it were for the sake of a sneer. This quondam community of public employment induced Thelwall to visit Coleridge at Nether Stowey, where he fell in my way. He really was a man of extraordinary talent, an affectionate husband, and a good father. Though brought up in the City, he was truly sensible of the beauty of natural objects. I remember once, when Coleridge, he, and I were seated together upon the turf on the brink of a stream in the most beautiful part of the most beautiful glen of Alfoxden, Coleridge exclaimed, "This is a place to reconcile one to all the jarrings and conflicts of the wide world." "Nay," said Thelwall, "to make one forget them altogether." The visit of this man to Coleridge was, as I believe Coleridge has related, the occasion of a spy being sent by Government to watch our proceedings, which were, I can say with truth, such as the world at large would have thought ludicrously harmless. I HAVE a boy of five years old; His face is fair and fresh to see; His limbs are cast in beauty's mould, And dearly he loves me. One morn we strolled on our dry walk, My thoughts on former pleasures ran; A day it was when I could bear The green earth echoed to the feet Of lambs that bounded through the glade, From sunshine back to shade. Of inward sadness had its charm; Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place, And so is Liswyn farm. My boy beside me tripped, so slim And, as we talked, I questioned him, "Now tell me, had you rather be,' I said, and took him by the arm, "On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?" In careless mood he looked at me, "Now, little Edward, say why so: My little Edward, tell me why." "I cannot tell, I do not know." "Why, this is strange," said I; - "For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm: There surely must some reason be Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm For Kilve by the green sea. At this, my boy hung down his head, His head he raised - there was in sight, Then did the boy his tongue unlock, And eased his mind with this reply: "At Kilve there was no weather-cock; And that's the reason why." O dearest, dearest boy! my heart THE THORN 1798 1798 Written at Alfoxden. Arose out of my observing, on the ridge of Quantock Hill, on a stormy day, a thorn which I had often past, in calm and bright weather, without noticing it. I said to myself, "Cannot I by some invention do as much to make this Thorn permanently an impressive object as the storm has made it to my eyes at this moment?" I began the poem accordingly, and composed it with great rapidity. Sir George Beaumont painted a picture from it which Wilkie thought his best. He gave it me; though when he saw it several times at Rydal Mount afterwards, he said, “I could make a better, and would like to paint the same subject over again.” The sky in this picture is nobly done, but it reminds one too much of Wilson. The only fault, however, of any consequence is the female figure, which is too old and decrepit for one likely to frequent an eminence on such a call. I "THERE is a Thorn it looks so old, Not higher than a two years' child |