DEDICATION(1818)TOS.T.COLERIDGE,ESQ.
frontispiece
charleslamb(age23)
fromthedrawingbyroberthancock,nowinthenationalportrait
gallery.
dedication(1818)tos.t.coleridge,esq.
mydearcoleridge,
youwillsmiletoseetheslenderlaborsofyourfrienddesignatedbythetitleofworks;butsuchwasthewishofthegentlemenwhohavekindlyundertakenthetroubleofcollectingthem,andfromtheirjudgmentcouldbenoappeal.
itwouldbeakindofdisloyaltytooffertoanyonebutyourselfavolumecontainingtheearlypieces,whichwerefirstpublishedamongyourpoems,andwerefairlyderivativesfromyouandthem.myfriendlloydandmyselfcameintoourfirstbattle(authorshipisasortofwarfare)undercoverofthegreaterajax.howthisassociation,whichshallalwaysbeadearandproudrecollectiontome,cametobebroken,—whosnappedthethree-foldcord,—whetheryourself(butiknowthatwasnotthecase)grewashamedofyourformercompanions,—orwhether(whichisbymuchthemoreprobable)someungraciousbooksellerwasauthoroftheseparation,—icannottell;—butwantingthesupportofyourfriendlyelm,(ispeakformyself,)myvinehas,sincethattime,putforthfewornofruits;thesap(ifeverithadany)hasbecome,inamanner,driedupandextinct;andyouwillfindyouroldassociate,inhissecondvolume,dwindledintoproseandcriticism.
amirightinassumingthisasthecause?orisitthat,asyearscomeuponus,(exceptwithsomemorehealthy-happyspirits,)lifeitselflosesmuchofitspoetryforus?wetranscribebutwhatwereadinthegreatvolumeofnature;and,asthecharactersgrowdim,weturnoff,andlookanotherway.youyourselfwritenochristabels,norancientmariners,now.
someofthesonnets,whichshallbecarelesslyturnedoverbythegeneralreader,mayhappilyawakeninyouremembrances,whichishouldbesorryshouldbeevertotallyextinct—thememory
ofsummerdaysandofdelightfulyears—
evensofarbackastothoseoldsuppersatourold******inn,—whenlifewasfresh,andtopicsexhaustless,—andyoufirstkindledinme,ifnotthepower,yettheloveofpoetry,andbeauty,andkindliness.—
whatwordshaveiheard
spokeatthemermaid!
theworldhasgivenyoumanyashrewdnipandgirdsincethattime,buteithermyeyesaregrowndimmer,ormyoldfriendisthesame,whostoodbeforemethreeandtwentyyearsago—hishairalittleconfessingthehandoftime,butstillshroudingthesamecapaciousbrain,—hisheartnotaltered,scarcelywhereit"alterationfinds."
onepiece,coleridge,ihaveventuredtopublishinitsoriginalform,thoughihaveheardyoucomplainofacertainover-imitationoftheantiqueinthestyle.ificouldseeanywayofgettingridoftheobjection,withoutre-writingitentirely,iwouldmakesomesacrifices.butwheniwrotejohnwoodvil,ineverproposedtomyselfanydistinctdeviationfromcommonenglish.ihadbeennewlyinitiatedinthewritingsofourelderdramatists;beaumontandfletcher,andmassinger,werethenafirstlove;andfromwhatiwassofreshlyconversantin,whatwonderifmylanguageimperceptiblytookatinge?theverytime,whichihavechosenformystory,thatwhichimmediatelyfollowedtherestoration,seemedtorequire,inanenglishplay,thattheenglishshouldbeofratheranoldercast,thanthatofthepreciseyearinwhichithappenedtobewritten.iwishithadnotsomefaults,whichicanlessvindicatethanthelanguage.
iremain,
mydearcoleridge,
your's,
withunabatedesteem,
c.lamb.