Is matched unequally with custom, time," &c. This subject is treated at length in the Ode entitled “INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD, p. 470. [This Note affords an appropriate place for two extracts from Coleridge's writings-one, a comment, and the other a description of that temperament of which there are manifestations throughout this ode: "To the 'Ode on the intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood,' the Poet might have prefixed the lines which Dante addresses to one of his own Canzoni: ⚫Canzon! io credo, che saranno radi O lyric song, there will be few, think I, "But the ode was intended for such readers only as had been accustomed to watch the flux and reflux of their inmost nature, to venture at times into the twilight realms of consciousness, and to feel a deep interest in modes of inmost being, to which they know that the attributes of time and space are inapplicable and alien, but which yet cannot be conveyed, save in symbols of time and space. For such readers the sense is sufficiently plain, and they will be as little disposed to charge Mr. Wordsworth with believing the Platonic pre-existence in the ordinary interpretation of the words, as I am to believe that Plato himself ever meant or taught it. 66 COLERIDGE: Biographia Literaria,' Ch. xxii. -To find no contradiction in the union of old and new, to contemplate the ANCIENT OF DAYS with feelings as fresh as if they then sprang forth at his own fiat, this characterizes the minds that feel the riddle of the world, and may help to unravel it! To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the child's sense of wonder and novelty with the appearances which every day for perhaps forty years had rendered familiar, With Sun and Moon and Stars throughout the year, this is the character and privilege of genius, and one Note 6, p. 583. "Knowing the heart of Man is set to be," &c. The passage quoted from Daniel is taken from poem addressed to the Lady Margaret, Countess o Cumberland, and the two last lines, printed in Italics are by him translated from Seneca. The whole Poem is very beautiful. I will transcribe four stanzas from it, as they contain an admirable picture of the state of a wise Man's mind in a time of public commotion. Nor is he moved with all the thunder-cracks Although his heart (so near allied to earth) Yet seeing thus the course of things must run, And whilst distraught Ambition compasses, Thus, Lady, fares that Man that hath prepared By whom, I see, you labour all you can To plant your heart! and set your thoughts as near His glorious Mansion as your powers can bear. This concord, Lady, of a well-tuned mind Hath been so set by that all-working hand Of Heaven, that though the world hath done his worst Yet doth it still in perfect union stand I have added to the quotation another stanza of this admirable poem; though not in immediate connection. with the former stanzas, it may be regarded as part of the same picture. In transcribing this stanza, my thoughts have turned to Wordsworth's own character and career—the purity of purpose with which he de voted himself to his high calling, and the constancy with which, through the evil and the good report o criticism, he has adhered to it.-H. R.] APPENDIX. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1815. THE observations prefixed to that portion of this Volume which was published many years ago, under the title of "Lyrical Ballads," have so little of a special application to the greater part of the present enlarged and diversified collection, that they could not with propriety stand as an Introduction to it. Not deeming it, however, expedient to suppress that exposition, slight and imperfect as it is, of the feelings which had determined the choice of the subjects, and the principles which had regulated the composition of those Pieces, I have transferred it to an Appendix, to be attended to, or not, at the pleasure of the Reader. In the Preface to that part of "The Recluse," lately published under the title of "The Excursion," I have alluded to a meditated arrangement of my minor Poems, which should assist the attentive Reader in perceiving their connexion with each other, and also their subordination to that Work. I shall here say a few words explanatory of this arrangement, as carried into effect. The powers requisite for the production of poetry are, first, those of observation and description, i. e. the ability to observe with accuracy things as they are in themselves, and with fidelity to describe them, unmodified by any passion or feeling existing in the mind of the Describer: whether the things depicted' be actually present to the senses, or have a place only in the memory. This power, though indispensable to a Poet, is one which he employs only in submission to necessity, and never for a continuance of time: as its exercise supposes all the higher qualitics of the mind to be passive, and in a state of subjection to external objects, much in the same way as the Translator or Engraver ought to be to his Original. 2dly, Sensibility, which, the more exquisite it is, the wider will be the range of a Poet's perceptions; and the more will he be incited to observe objects, both as they exist in themselves and as re-acted upon by his own mind. (The distinction between poetic and human sensibility has been marked in the character of the Poet delineated in the original preface, before-mentioned.) 3dly, Reflection, which makes the Poet acquainted with the value 4F of actions, images, thoughts, and feelings; and assists the sensibility in perceiving their connexion with each other. 4thly, Imagination and Fancy,-to modify, to create, and to associate. 5thly, Invention,—by which characters are composed out of materials supplied by observation; whether of the Poet's own heart and mind, or of external life and nature; and such incidents and situations produced as are most impressive to the imagination, and most fitted to do justice to the characters, sentiments, and passions, which the Poet undertakes to illustrate. And, lastly, Judgment, to decide how and where, and in what degree, each of these faculties ought to be exerted; so that the less shall not be sacrificed to the greater; nor the greater, slighting the less, arrogate, to its own injury, more than its due. By judgment, also, is determined what are the laws and appropriate graces of every species of com position. The materials of Poetry, by these powers col lected and produced, are cast, by means of various moulds, into divers forms. The moulds may be enumerated, and the forms specified, in the foilowing order. 1st, the Narrative, including the Epopoeia, the Historic Poem, the Tale, the Romance, the Mock-heroic, and, if the spirit of Homer will tolerate such neighbourhood, that dear production of our days, the metrical Novel. Of this Class, the distinguishing mark is, that the Narrator, however liberally his speaking agents be introduced, is himself the source from which everything primarily flows. Epic Poets, in order that their mode of composition may accord with the elevation of their subject, represent themselves as singing from the inspiration of the Muse, " Arma virumque cano," but this is a fiction, in modern times, of slight value: the Iliad or the Paradise Lost would gain little in our estimation by being chanted. The other poets who belong to this class are commonly content to tell their tale· -so that of the whole it may be affirmed that they neither require nor reject the accompaniment of music. 2dly, The Dramatic,-consisting of Tragedy, 54* 641 Historic Drama, Comedy, and Masque, in which ranged, as far as it was possible, according to an the poet does not appear at all in his own person, order of time, commencing with Childhood, and and where the whole action is carried on by terminating with Old Age, Death, and Immortality. speech and dialogue of the agents; music being admitted only incidentally and rarely. The Opera may be placed here, inasmuch as it proceeds by dialogue; though depending, to the degree that it does, upon music, it has a strong claim to be ranked with the Lyrical. The characteristic and impassioned Epistle, of which Ovid and Pope have given examples, considered as a species of monodrama, may, without impropriety, be placed in this class. 3dly, The Lyrical,-containing the Hymn, the Ode, the Elegy, the Song, and the Ballad; in all which, for the production of their full effect, an accompaniment of music is indispensable. My guiding wish was, that the small pieces in this volume, thus discriminated, might be regarded under a two-fold view; as composing an entire work within themselves, and as adjuncts to the philosophical Poem, "The Recluse." This ar rangement has long presented itself habitually to my own mind. Nevertheless, I should have preferred to scatter them at random, if I had been persuaded that, by the plan adopted, any thing material would be taken from the natural effect of the pieces, individually, on the mind of the unre flecting Reader. I trust there is a sufficient va riety in each class to prevent this; while, for him who reads with reflection, the arrangement will serve as a commentary unostentatiously directing 4thly, The Idyllium,-descriptive chiefly either of the processes and appearances of external na-his attention to my purposes, both particular and ture, as the Seasons of Thomson; or of characters, manners, and sentiments, as are Shenstone's Schoolmistress, The Cotter's Saturday Night of Burns, The Twa Dogs of the same Author; or of these in conjunction with the appearances of Nature, as most of the pieces of Theocritus, the Allegro and Penseroso of Milton, Beattie's Minstrel, Goldsmith's Deserted Village. The Epitaph, the Inscription, the Sonnet, most of the epistles of poets writing in their own persons, and all loco-descriptive poetry, belong to this class. 5thly, Didactic, the principal object of which is direct instruction; as the Poem of Lucretius, the Georgics of Virgil, The Fleece of Dyer, Mason's "English Garden," &c. And, lastly, philosophical satire, like that of Horace and Juvenal; personal and occasional Satire rarely comprehending sufficient of the general in the individual to be dignified with the name of poetry. Out of the three last has been constructed a composite order, of which Young's Night Thoughts, and Cowper's Task, are excellent examples. It is deducible from the above, that poems, apparently miscellaneous, may with propriety be arranged either with reference to the powers of mind predominant in the production of them; or to the mould in which they are cast; or, lastly, to the subjects to which they relate. From each of these considerations, the following Poems have been divided into classes; which, that the work may more obviously correspond with the course of human life, and for the sake of exhibiting in it the three requisites of a legitimate whole, a begin. ning, a middle, and an end, have been also ar general. But, as I wish to guard against the pos sibility of misleading by this classification, it is proper first to remind the Reader, that certain poems are placed according to the powers of mind, in the Author's conception, predominant in the production of them; predominant, which implies the exertion of other faculties in less degree. Where there is more imagination than fancy in a poem, it is placed under the head of imagination, and vice versâ. Both the above classes might without impropriety have been enlarged from that consisting of "Poems founded on the Affections;" as might this latter from those, and from the class "proceeding from Sentiment and Reflection." The most striking characteristics of each piece, mutual illustration, variety, and proportion, have governed me throughout. It may be proper in this place to state, that the Extracts in the Second Class, entitled "Juvenile Pieces," are in many places altered from the printed copy, chiefly by omission and compression. The slight alterations of another kind were for the most part made not long after the publication of the Poems from which the Extracts are taken.* These Extracts seem to have a title to be placed here, as they were the productions of youth, and represent implicitly some of the features of a youthful mind, at a time when images of nature supplied to it the place of thought, sentiment, and almost of action; or as it will be found expressed of a state of mind when "the sounding cataract These Poems are now printed entire. Their colours and their forms were then to me That had no need of a remoter charm, I will own that I was much at a loss what to se- of evoking and combining. The imagination is formed by patient observation; the fancy by a voluntary activity in shifting the scenery of the mind. The more accurate the imagination, the more safely may a painter, or a poet, undertake a delincation, or a description, without the presence of the objects to be characterised. The more ver satile the fancy, the more original and striking will be the decorations produced."-British Synonyms discriminated, by W. Taylor. Is not this as if a man should undertake to supply an account of a building, and be so intent upon what he had discovered of the foundation, as to conclude his task without once looking up at the superstructure? Here, as in other instances throughout the volume, the judicious Author's mind is enthralled by Etymology; he takes up the original word as his guide and escort, and too often does not perceive how soon he becomes its prisoner, without liberty to tread in any path but that to which it confines him. It is not easy to find out how imagination, thus explained, differs from distinct remembrance of images; or fancy from quick and vivid recollection of them: each is nothing more than a mode of memory. If the two words bear the above meaning, and no other, what term is left to designate that Faculty of which the Poet is "all compact;" he whose eye glances from earth to heaven, whose spiritual attributes body forth what his pen is prompt in turning to None of the other Classes, except those of Fancy and Imagination, require any particular notice But a remark of general application may be made. All Poets, except the dramatic, have been in the practice of feigning that their works were composed to the music of the harp or lyre: with what degree of affectation this has been done in modern times, I leave to the judicious to determine. For my own part, I have not been disposed to violate probability so far, or to make such a large demand upon the Reader's charity. Some of these pieces are essentially lyrical; and, therefore, cannot have their due force without a supposed musical accompaniment; but, in much the greatest part, as a substitute for the classic lyre or romantic harp, I require nothing more than an animated or impassioned recitation, adapted to the subject. Poems, however humble in their kind, if they be good in that kind, cannot read themselves: the law of long syllable and short must not be so inflexible,—the letter of metre must not be so impassive to the spirit of versifi-shape; or what is left to characterise Fancy, as cation, as to deprive the Reader of a voluntary power to modulate, in subordination to the sense, the music of the poem ;-in the same manner as his mind is left at liberty, and even summoned, to act upon its thoughts and images. But, though the accompaniment of a musical instrument be frequently dispensed with, the truc Poct docs not therefore abandon his privilege distinct from that of the mere Proseman; "He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own." I come now to the consideration of the words Funcy and Imagination, as employed in the classification of the following Poems. "A man," says an intelligent author, " has imagination in proportion as he can distinctly copy in idea the impressions of sense: it is the faculty which images within the mind the phenomena of sensation. A man has fancy in proportion as he can call up, connect, or associate, at pleasure, those internal images (parralew is to cause to appear) so as to insinuating herself into the heart of objects with creative activity? — Imagination, in the sense of the word as giving title to a Class of the following Poems, has no reference to images that are merely a faithful copy, existing in the mind, of absent external objects; but is a word of higher import, denoting operations of the mind upon those objects, and processes of creation or of composition, governed by certain fixed laws. I proceed to illustrate my meaning by instances. A parrot hangs from the wires of his cage by his beak or by his claws; or a monkey from the bough of a tree by his paws or his tail. Each creature does so literally and actually. In the first Eclogue of Virgil, the Shepherd, thinking of the time when he is to take leave of his Farm thus addresses his Goats : "Non ego vos posthac viridi projectus in antro "Half way down complete ideal representations of absent objects. is the well-known expression of Shakspeare, de Imagination is the power of depicting, and fancy lineating an ordinary image upon the Cliffs of "Shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice ?" Dover. In these two instances is a slight exer- | in which it is entombed, and conveys it to the ear tion of the faculty which I denominate Imagina- of the listener. tion, in the use of one word: neither the goats nor the samphire-gatherer do literally hang, as does the parrot or the monkey; but, presenting to the senses something of such an appearance, the mind in its activity, for its own gratification, contemplates them as hanging. "As when far off at Sea a Flect descried Of Ternate or Tidore, whence Merchants bring Here is the full strength of the imagination involved in the word hangs, and exerted upon the whole image: First, the Fleet, an aggregate of many Ships, is represented as one mighty Person, whose track, we know and feel, is upon the waters: but, taking advantage of its appearance to the senses, the Poet dares to represent it as hanging in the clouds, both for the gratification of the mind in contemplating the image itself, and in reference to the motion and appearance of the sublime objects to which it is compared. This concise interrogation characterises the seeming ubiquity of the voice of the Cuckoo, and dispossesses the creature almost of a corporeal existence; the Imagination being tempted to this exertion of her power by a consciousness in the memory that the Cuckoo is almost perpetually heard throughout the season of Spring, but seldom becomes an object of sight. Thus far of images independent of each other, and immediately endowed by the mind with properties that do not inhere in them, upon an incite. ment from properties and qualities the existence of which is inherent and obvious. These pro cesses of imagination are carried on either by conferring additional properties upon an object, or abstracting from it some of those which it actually possesses, and thus enabling it to re-act upon the mind which hath performed the process, like a Lew existence. I pass from the Imagination acting upon an individual image to a consideration of the same faculty employed upon images in a conjunction From images of sight we will pass to those of by which they modify each other. The Reader sound: "Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods ;" of the same bird, "His voice was buried among trees, The Stock-dove is said to coo, a sound well imitating the note of the bird; but, by the intervention of the metaphor broods, the affections are called in by the imagination to assist in marking the manner in which the Bird reiterates and prolongs her soft note, as if herself delighting to listen to it, and participating of a still and quiet satisfaction, like that which may be supposed inseparable from the continuous process of incubation. "His voice was buried among trees," a metaphor expressing the love of seclusion by which this Bird is marked; and characterising its note as not partaking of the shrill and the piercing, and therefore more easily deadened by the intervening shade; yet a note so peculiar and withal so pleasing, that the breeze, gifted with that love of the sound which the Poet feels, penetrates the shade has already had a fine instance before him in the passage quoted from Virgil, where the apparently perilous situation of the Goat, hanging upon the shaggy precipice, is contrasted with that of the Shepherd, contemplating it from the seclusion of the Cavern in which he lies stretched at ease and in security. Take these images separately, and how unaffecting the picture compared with that produced by their being thus connected with, and opposed to, each other! "As a huge Stone is sometimes seen to lie By what means it could thither come, and whence, In these images, the conferring, the abstracting |