MS location unknown, printed in Coleridge, Life, 178 - 181.
My dear Marianne
Your letter has so made me overflow that in spite of Sunday evening I cannot help beginning to write after finishing my task of the 7th Command[ment]1. You see one part is founded on a saying come down to me, I don’t know how, ‘that nice men are men of nasty ideas.’ I don’t know how far all this ought to be administered, or whether innocence should be let alone, innocence of thought I mean. I like a bit very much in the C. R. review of the Prelude about harm not being done by the things children read in books. 2 If I had thought of it I would have sent the Listeners in the parcel for Mrs. Dyson’s Sunday evening selections; at present I believe I return to my old recommendation of the dear old Pilgrim’s Progress, where I am sure they could learn nothing but good. I have nothing better at this moment to suggest than Marco Visconte, unless you were to give them some good book of travels, such as Franklin’ Voyages, which I used to read for ever. Or perhaps Palgrave’s Merchant and Friarwould do; there is a great deal I do like exceedingly in it, and only one thing I don’t, and that is not important, namely some unpleasant philosophising over a dissected eye, which I think has a bad tendency, but I do not perceive that wiser people think so. As to Mr. B3 , there were reports of the worse danger, and he did not act wisely certainly in having Mr. Maskell4 staying with him just as all knew he was going to secede, but he seemed quite steady as far as could be guessed by his ways when we saw him, and his whole soul seemed in the Church restoration, not like a man who meant to abandon it; he took such pleasure in showing all that was doing and telling of the further schemes, and with the belief of early death about him which he has expressed I cannot think that he would remain in our Church if he doubted her really. He has been very unwell, and does not take care of himself, so my uncle has ordered him abroad, and the Warden has just been to see about him; we heard to-day that it is to the Nile that he is to go, and choosing that instead of Italy seems like a very good sign. He is certainly more like a man in a book than like the rest of the world. What you say about Archdeacon M.. seems almost too terrible to be possible, but I must tell you a curious thing. Five or six years ago Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt5 took us to a great Agricultural meeting at Goodwood, and papa sat next the Archdeacon and had a great deal of talk; but what struck papa was this, that Archdeacon M. first said to him that he hoped not to be called on to speak, and then put himself forward and showed that he wanted to do so. Papa said of it at the time that it showed a want of simplicity, it was so unlike what Mr. Keble would have done; and he never had full confidence in him after that. How strange it is that the goodness and holiness of life that one would have thought would secure people only seems to lay them open to assaults of the faith, like Eustace in the Combatants, which you really ought to read. 6 I suppose Miss Martineau is the Socinian specimen of pretty writing that you mean; I read a beauty that I am sure was hers the other day, about a heroic lady in a parish with a deadly fever; there was such a pretty piece about the clergyman and his wife going about fearlessly for themselves, only now and then a terror striking them for each other.7 And there is Mary Barton.8
I think what you say about hero-worship exemplifies the difference between looking at a man as a saint or hero and as a Pope, in which latter case I think it is really making him infallible, and putting trust into something visible, giving our eyes up to him, so that if the light in him becomes darkness, he leads us into the ditch. Alas, how well I recollect Mr. H. Wilberforce on your lawn saying he could fancy making a Pope of Archdeacon M. I dare say you have read those letters of Dr. Pusey’s9 which the Coleridges have about the danger of the craving to be guided. It must be the difference between looking up to a tree and clinging to it; in the case of saint-worship, the tree’s fall seems to carry away half of you and leave you scarcely knowing where you are, in the other case you go with it.
I like the notion of the Mag. exceedingly, and when the landmarks are done would devote the best part of my energies to it, and put in the Cameos, and work up the Catechism papers into Conversations, but I have my fears, for I believe a new Mag. is an immense risk, and I think it is very doubtful whether the Mozleys would choose to start one in opposition to Masters.10 Besides, who will guard us from the universal fate of good Mags. of growing stupid as soon as they get into circulation. However, it is my will, but not my poverty,11 and it would be a very pleasant thing if it can but be done. I don’t think though that I shall venture on a letter to the fellow-slave just yet, till I know a little better how far she is in earnest; tell her to write to me, or better still if she would but come and stay. Do send her when she comes to you. Is her history of France going on? I wish any one could tell us what the cost of starting a Mag. would be. I advise you to set up a blackboard in your infant school; my eyes were opened to its uses by Duke. I don’t think I would make our Mag. much of a poor people’s concern, more for young ladies and calves; perhaps started in that way it would not seem so like an opposition. I have got a book about the Reign of Terror which mamma hates the sight of, but which has some beautiful stories in it.12 Do you know Tales of the Peerage and Peasantry? One of the stories in it about Lady Nithsdale would be excellent for Calfdom. I am going to give Laura and Amy a sensible friend, a Mary Ross, about 25, daughter to the clergyman in the next parish, very clever, reading and school-keeping, without a mother, taking long walks rather independently and caring little for dress, quite feminine, however, and very nice. Charles delights in her, but Philip cannot abide her, because of her superiority in reality; he fancies it is for want of feminine grace. Amy is intensely fond of her, and she watches the two girls as they come to be on an equality with her with a motherly sort of interest. It is at her house that Guy made the outburst that led to the explanation with Amy. Penny Club awaits me. Good-bye.
Your devoted slave,
C. M. Y.
Review of William Wordsworth, The Prelude (1850) in The Christian Remembrancer XX : My colleaugue at the CLLC, Alexis Antonia has established that this was almost certainly written by Anne Mozley.
Two footnote number 3s in text. The first not needed.