Referring to Coleridge, it is stated that he
"was dishonored at Cambridge for preaching Deism, and that he had since
left his native country, and left his poor children fatherless, and his
wife destitute:" _ex his disce his friends Lamb and Southey._ A scurrilous
libel of this stamp would now be rejected by all persons of good feeling
or good character. It would be spurned by a decent publication, or, if
published, would be consigned to the justice of a jury.
The little story of Rosamond Gray was wrought out of the artist's brain in
the year 1798, stimulated, as Lamb confesses, by the old ballad of "An old
woman clothed in gray," which he had been reading. It is defective as a
regular tale. It wants circumstance and probability, and is slenderly
provided with character. There is, moreover, no construction in the
narrative, and little or no progress in the events. Yet it is very
daintily told. The mind of the author wells out in the purest streams.
Having to deal with one foul incident, the tale is nevertheless without
speck or blemish. A virgin nymph, born of a lily, could not have unfolded
her thoughts more delicately. And, in spite of its improbability, Rosamond
Gray is very pathetic.
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