About the Work
The Friend is a literary, moral, and political weekly paper conducted by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, published from Grasmere, Westmorland. The work opens with a dedication to Frances E. Bennett, followed by the title page identifying the publication’s scope and authorship. The periodical began with its first essay on June 1, 1809, and continued through a series of numbered essays, with the opening number establishing the work’s ambitious aims and philosophical orientation.
The book is presented as a collection of essays that Coleridge describes as an experiment in periodical publication. He explicitly distinguishes his undertaking from earlier periodicals such as the Tatler and the Spectator, rejecting the model of imitation that characterized those works. He also dismisses the approach of composing one continuous work on a single subject, as well as the temptation to make the publication a vehicle for weekly commentary on public characters and political parties. Instead, Coleridge proposes a different kind of periodical—one that refers readers to principles in all things, excluding the events of the day and appealing instead to the nobler parts of human nature.
The work’s form is that of a stamped sheet of large Octavo, delivered by post at the price of one shilling, with orders received by J. Brown of Penrith and others. The publication schedule encountered practical difficulties, including interruptions due to paper and stamp procurement, which Coleridge acknowledges in his notices to subscribers. The periodical was planned as a weekly paper, though the author notes that the third number was deferred to June 22 (June 24 in London) due to these practical obstacles.
The book includes a Prospectus, extracted from a letter, in which Coleridge explains his life of study, his over-activity of thought modified by constitutional indolence, and his habit of daily noting observations. The object of The Friend is stated as upholding truths founded in the nobler parts of our nature against the caprices of fashion. The chief subjects announced include the ground of morality, the origin of moral impulses, the dependence of taste on moral impulses, new objects of admiration in the language, characters in real life, education, and sources of consolation.
The work also incorporates various literary forms within its essays, including poetry, allegory, narrative, and anecdote. Coleridge includes his own verses, though he apologizes for transgressing his rule against troubling readers with his own poems, quoting Virgil’s Catalecta in his defense. The book also features sonnets by W. W. (William Wordsworth) on Tyrolean subjects, specimens of Rabbinic wisdom from the Mishna, and extracts from Satyrane’s Letters describing German customs and observations.
The periodical addresses its readers directly, with Coleridge acknowledging the difficulties of a first introduction and the circumstances that distinguish his plan from other periodicals. He expresses gratitude for the constancy of his readers while acknowledging that he owes this to their generous reluctance to withdraw from an undertaking in its first struggles. The work concludes its initial series of twenty numbers with an address to subscribers and readers, in which Coleridge regards this as the first proper starting-post, describing the preceding twenty numbers as a preparatory heat.
Context
The work emerges from a specific historical and intellectual moment in early nineteenth-century England. Coleridge writes against the backdrop of the French Revolution and its aftermath, referring to “thunder and earthquakes, and deluge of the political world” that have forced greater thoughtfulness upon the age. He notes that recent political events have compelled deeper reflection, particularly in England, where instruction came without the stupefying influences of terror that affected other nations.
The periodical reflects the political divisions of its time, engaging with the errors of party spirit on both sides. Coleridge examines the excesses of the Jacobins, who ran wild with the Rights of Man, and the Anti-Jacobins, who idolized the Rights of Sovereigns and defended privileges as abstractly as if decreed by supreme wisdom. He observes that both parties played the same game, with the aristocratic party’s errors being grosser and less excusable. The Anti-Jacobins denied or palliated notorious facts, justified the Bastille and the Spanish Inquisition, and confounded the condition of English and French peasantry.
The work also engages with the intellectual currents of the period, including the philosophical debates between Necessitarians and their opponents, the influence of Shaftesbury and Hobbes on conceptions of human nature, and the controversies surrounding figures such as Priestley, Reid, and Beattie. Coleridge positions himself against the fashionable Anglo-Gallican taste in style, criticizing the epigrammatic unconnected periods that characterized contemporary writing and advocating instead for the stately march of Hooker, Bacon, Milton, and Jeremy Taylor.
The publication context includes practical considerations of the periodical trade. Coleridge explains that The Friend was printed on stamped paper to go free by the General Post, and he neglected to require six weeks’ notice for discontinuation—a notice less than half what London newspaper publishers require—from what he describes as unwise delicacy and habitual avoidance of money thoughts. He requests that subscriptions be paid to Post-masters and forwarded to Kendal, and that all letters be post-paid, noting the dishonesty of fictitious signatures without postage.
The work reflects Coleridge’s personal circumstances and intellectual biography. He mentions his life of study, his time at Cambridge (recalling a fable read during his Freshman’s Term), his walk from Gottingen in 1799, and his lectures at the Royal Institution. He describes the fifteen months from May 1804 to October 1805 as the most memorable period of his life, a time associated with his friendship with Sir Alexander Ball. The work also engages with contemporary figures and events, including the missionary journals describing efforts in Hindostan, the campaigns of Clarkson and the Quaker Confederates against the slave trade, and the discoveries of Professor Davy in chemistry.
The intellectual context includes debates about education, with Coleridge noting the general anxiety about education and the unprecedented sales of instructional volumes as evidence of moral improvement. He engages with the theories of Rousseau, Major Cartwright, and other political thinkers, examining the foundations of political rights and the relationship between reason and property. The work also reflects the religious controversies of the period, including discussions of pious frauds, the doctrines of the Church Fathers, and the relationship between faith and knowledge.
Structure of the Book
The Friend is organized as a series of numbered essays, each with its own date and thematic focus. The work opens with a dedication and title page, followed by the first essay (No. 1, June 1, 1809), which establishes the aims and methods of the publication. This opening essay includes a Latin epigraph from Petrarch, translated into English, promising help to the struggling, counsel to the doubtful, light to the blind, hope to the despondent, and refreshment to the weary.
The early numbers establish the philosophical foundations of the work. The first essay introduces central themes concerning the self-contradicting principle in human nature, the nature of conscience, and the existence of evil distinct from error and pain. It includes a fable about a golden age when Conscience acted with the ease of Instinct, describing a prophet who warns of coming madness and ultimately plunges into the maddening water with the words, “It is in vain to be sane in a World of Madmen.” The essay concludes with a poem on Tranquillity and a Latin passage from Erasmus about readers approaching a book like guests at a feast.
The second number (June 8, 1809) quotes Burke’s Speech on presenting a plan for the better security of the independence of Parliament, discussing hot reformations and the recall of abdicated grievances. Coleridge explains his selection of the motto from Burke, an authority respected by both parties, and praises Burke’s eloquence and genius. The essay examines changing moral standards, evidence of moral improvement, and the purpose of The Friend in examining the falsehood or abasement of principles.
The third and fourth numbers continue the philosophical inquiry, with discussions of reasoning and its difficulties, the challenges of making simple chains of reasoning intelligible to ordinary people, and the distinction between truths evident of themselves and those requiring trains of deduction. Coleridge introduces the image of the Chamois-hunter as a guide who takes the shortest way and warns of perils but cannot carry the reader, requiring each to strain his own sinews and make footing by the blood of toil.
The fifth and sixth numbers examine self-delusion and the cause of misery, physical versus moral causes of distress, and the means of acting on men. Coleridge argues that the greater part of human misery depends directly on human vices, with the remainder depending indirectly. He discusses the relationship between knowledge and will, the habituation of the intellect to clear and distinct conceptions, and the dangers of connecting obscure notions with objects of sense.
The seventh essay (No. 10, October 19, 1809) addresses “On the Errors of Party Spirit: or Extremes Meet,” examining the limitations of Reason in governing individuals or States, the relationship between property and government, and the errors of both Jacobin and Anti-Jacobin parties. Coleridge engages with Major Cartwright’s principles of political rights, arguing that universal suffrage implies a legal power of abolishing property and that Cartwright must admit expedience as the ground of all legislative power.
The structure includes various interludes and miscellaneous pieces. The author includes an apology for his style, comparing an author’s pen to children’s legs that improve by exercise, and acknowledging that long solitary meditation increases the power of connected thinking but lessens the talent for graceful communication. He includes sonnets by W. W. on Tyrolean subjects, specimens of Rabbinic wisdom from the Mishna (including the story of Alexander the Macedonian and the African people who eat gold), and extracts from Satyrane’s Letters describing German customs, including the Christmas celebrations in Ratzeburg.
The work also includes a substantial narrative section concerning Maria Eleonora Schoning, the daughter of a Nuremberg wire-drawer, whose story illustrates the causes of madness and the effects of suffering on the human mind. This narrative, presented as a real occurrence published in the city where the event took place, traces Maria’s descent from nursing her dying father, through the confiscation of her property by revenue officers, to her homelessness and the brutal violence she suffers in the churchyard, and finally to her desperate resolution.
The structure incorporates a supernumerary essay on Irus, an allegory of a beggar who undergoes a rapid transition of fortune, renaming himself Ceraunius (the Lightning-flasher), only to awake from his dream of life poor as Irus yet guiltless. This allegory is followed by an address to subscribers and readers, in which Coleridge explains the nature of his experiment and the practical arrangements for the continuation of the work.
The later numbers include extended discussions of Sir Alexander Ball, his character as a naval officer, his government of Malta, and his opinions as related in conversation. The narrative includes Ball’s humane treatment of a young midshipman overcome by fear, his friendship with Lord Nelson (including the story of Nelson’s exclamation “a Friend in need is a Friend indeed!”), and his conduct at the Battle of the Nile. The work also includes discussions of the Gentleman character, observations on Cicero and Pliny, and a dialogue on drama contrasting French and English theatrical traditions.
Detailed Section-by-Section Summary
Dedication and Prospectus
The volume opens with a dedication to Frances E. Bennett, followed by the title page announcing The Friend as a literary, moral, and political weekly paper conducted by S. T. Coleridge of Grasmere, Westmorland. The first essay, dated June 1, 1809, begins with a Latin epigraph from Petrarch, translated into English, promising help to the struggling, counsel to the doubtful, light to the blind, hope to the despondent, and refreshment to the weary. Coleridge declares his aim is not to prescribe laws for others but to set forth the law of his own mind, hoping thereby to benefit the largest number of his fellow-creatures.
The Difficulties of a First Introduction
Coleridge acknowledges the embarrassment of circumstances distinguishing his plan from other periodicals. He rejects imitating the Tatler and Spectator, noting that imperfect imitation is often felt as a contrast. He dismisses composing one work on one subject, and refuses to make The Friend a vehicle for weekly descant on public characters and political parties, despite having a ready recipe for such an approach. He introduces a central theme: conclusions drawn from facts in perpetual flux are liable to objections, yet are assented to as undoubted truths. Among these universal persuasions is the sense of a self-contradicting principle in our nature, a disharmony distinguishing man from other animals. He mentions Shaftesbury and Hobbes as contrasting philosophers on human nature.
The Law of the Mind
Coleridge declares his creed that whatever humbles the heart and forces the mind inward—sickness, grief, remorse, love—renders us docile to the testimony of fellow-men. He cites Pascal and a poor pensive Indian in the American wilderness as examples of the humiliated self-examinant who feels evil in our nature. He argues that conscience cannot be solved by mechanic compost or chemical combination of appetence, memory, and understanding; it is an element of our being, unrelenting yet not absolute. From the fact of conscience, we deduce free-agency as a necessary inference. After long study of works in ancient and modern European languages, he satisfied his mind by arguments forced on him by reflection on his own being and observation of others, especially little children. He gives as an article of his faith that there is Evil distinct from Error and Pain, operating equally in subjects of Taste and Morality. He contrasts this with the view that follies originate in miscalculation from ignorance, which would make his business that of moral arithmetic, and rejects the belief in absolute innate necessity, which would make his task merely to amuse.
The Fable of the Maddening Rain
Coleridge recounts a fable read during his Freshman’s Term at Cambridge, in a modern Latin Poet, possibly B. Stay, with prose commentary by Boscovich. The fable describes a golden age when Conscience acted with the ease of Instinct. An honored Elder enters a cavern and hears a voice warning that on the thirtieth morning, a thick cloud and heavy rain will fall, and whoever the rain wets will be struck with the spirit of Madness. The old man warns his brethren to retreat to the Cavern of the River. They doubt, but the Prophet retires alone for nine days. On emerging, he finds his fellow-men transformed: one worships a heap of substances dug from the earth, another chases a butterfly, another stabs a precursor in the back, and troops of men are enslaved. The Prophet, unable to distinguish dreams from waking, is called a madman, and finally plunges into the maddening water, uttering, “It is in vain to be sane in a World of Madmen.”
Answering Objections
Coleridge answers objections by noting that though all men are in error, they are not in the same error, and each may heal the other. He defends the entertainment of moral writings, as delighting the imagination affects the generous passions. He mentions ascending Etna and the Brocken in North Germany, examining Albums at mountain stages. He distinguishes The Friend from predecessors by its form and exclusion of the Events of the Day. He promises to refer men to principles in all things, and dedicates his second number to views on the British Constitution. He disclaims all intentional allusions to particular persons or parties. He includes a poem on Tranquillity, then apologizes for transgressing his rule against troubling readers with his own verses, quoting Virgil’s Catalecta. He concludes with a Latin passage from Erasmus about readers approaching a book like guests at a feast.
The Prospectus
The Prospectus, extracted from a letter, explains Coleridge’s life of study, his over-activity of thought modified by constitutional indolence, and his habit of daily noting observations. The object of The Friend is to uphold truths founded in the nobler parts of our nature against the Caprices of Fashion. Chief subjects include the ground of Morality, the origin of moral impulses, the dependence of Taste on moral impulses, new objects of admiration in our language, characters in real life, Education, and Sources of Consolation. Each number will be a stamped sheet of large Octavo, delivered by post, price one shilling, with orders received by J. Brown, Penrith, and others.
Burke and the British Constitution
In No. 2, dated June 8, 1809, Coleridge quotes Burke’s Speech on presenting a plan for the better security of the independence of Parliament, discussing hot reformations and the recall of abdicated grievances. Coleridge explains he selected the motto from Burke, an authority respected by both parties, praising Burke’s eloquence and genius. He notes that while fragments of Pitt and Fox remain, Burke’s works are imperishably enshrined. He addresses his readers, particularly those who have been alarmed by the present state of public affairs.
On Changing Moral Standards
Coleridge argues that while earlier writers—Shadwell’s comedies dedicated to the Dutchess of Newcastle, Dryden’s plays—contained material once acceptable, a modern writer addressing such compositions to a virtuous matron would face infamy, Bridewell, and the Pillory. Contemporary prurient writers have erred in both place and time, misunderstanding their age’s temper and the Bible’s precepts. General anxiety about education, attention to works on its principles, and unprecedented sales of instructional volumes demonstrate moral improvement. Fashions and head-dresses of grandmothers contrasted with present simple ornaments illustrate the point. The wide diffusion of moral information from popular Essayists has been beneficent. Recent political events—”thunder and earthquakes, and deluge of the political world”—have forced greater thoughtfulness, particularly in England, where instruction came without terror’s stupefying influences. The author notes the close connection between private libertinism and national subversion, citing Oxford and Cambridge’s improved state versus twenty-five years ago.
The Purpose of The Friend
The unwelcome remainder—the “feet of iron and clay,” the falsehood or abasement of Principles—is the chief business of The Friend to examine, evince, and remedy. The author acknowledges his efforts will effect little but denies that little is to be effected. The plan does not exclude impassioned style, narrative, tale, allegory, or anecdote. He appeals to Feelings, Imagination, and Fancy, quoting Paradise Lost. He recalls walking from Gottingen in 1799 to witness the Queen of Prussia’s arrival at Baron Von Harrzberg’s Seat, and the universal thrill of emotion among the crowd, prompting his exclamation about humanity’s capacity for intense feeling.
On Arrogance and Pious Frauds
Coleridge defines literary arrogance’s marks: bare assertion of unpopular opinions without facts or reasons, with contemptuous treatment of opponents; Warburtonian arrogance—ascribing weakness of intellect, want of taste, or corruption to those denying one’s doctrines; and obtruding others’ opinions as original, or neglecting needed knowledge while claiming to instruct. He cites the Sicilian Jesuit’s review attacking Boyle and Newton, Locke’s assailants, and Dr. Priestly’s epithets against Reid and Beattie. Hobbes’s Homer translation shows lack of self-knowledge; his war with Wallis over geometry proved gross arrogance. The illiterate perpetrator of “the Age of Reason” had his conscience stupified by arrogance. He dislikes the expression “Pious Frauds.” The Fathers’ doctrine of lawful deceit for good purposes corrupted Christianity, paganizing it to christen Paganism. Truth, Virtue, and Happiness cannot be divided. He recounts finding a pamphlet on a breakfast table avowing this doctrine with menace, prompting his examination of moral obligation in communicating Truth.
On Veracity Versus Accuracy
Verbal truth is correspondence of fact to words; moral truth involves the speaker’s intention. Veracity, not mere accuracy, is the point of duty. The Conscience commands conveying adequate notions when practicable, right notions at all events, or silence. Three conditions for right inadequate notions: wish to convey truth only; error must not vitiate the imperfect truth; error outweighed by truth’s importance. Bolingbroke removed Love, Justice, and Choice from power and intelligence yet claimed to leave conviction of a Deity—like paralysing the optic nerve while claiming not to touch the eye. The author defers the third number to June 22, announces collections of his Poems since 1795 and political Essays, and explains interruptions were due to paper and stamp procurement difficulties.
On Reasoning and Its Difficulties
The passage distinguishes truths evident of themselves from those requiring trains of deduction. For the latter class, no instance shows a preponderance of ill-consequences when the understanding alone is appealed to through fair deductions from just premises. Legitimate reasoning requires severe thinking, which is neither easy nor amusing. The reader who follows a close reasoner has chosen a Chamois-hunter for guide: he takes the shortest way and warns of perils, but cannot carry the reader; each must strain his own sinews and make footing by the blood of toil. The journals of humane missionaries describe the difficulty of making simple chains of reasoning intelligible to ordinary natives, whose attention is rapidly exhausted. Yet among this class, self-torture chiefly prevails.
The Errors of Party Spirit: Or Extremes Meet
The author begins this essay by examining the limits of Reason as a governing principle for human society. While Reason is the source of all moral notions of Right and Wrong, its laws cannot alone govern individuals or States, as they fail to satisfy the first conditions of Human Society. He concedes, for the sake of argument, that the shortest legal code is best, though he notes that the facts of England, Holland, and Switzerland contradict this. The chief object of forming into a State was the protection of Property, not Lives; in Greenland, where property is only personal, men form Neighbourhoods, not Governments. In North America, Chiefs govern only Tribes with individual landed Property; elsewhere the Chief is only a General. Where individual landed Property exists, inequality is inevitable. Equal division of land involves contradictions: it would require Reason to master selfish passions, yet preclude the means by which Reason develops; it would be unjust and impossible in any society, and would render Government superfluous. All human Laws relate to Property and its inequalities. The Right of Property cannot be deduced from pure Reason; Reason could give property only in the forms of things produced by individual Power, not in the matter. Angels, as pure Reason, have no Property; Marriage is excluded from the state of pure Reason. Rousseau admits Property cannot be deduced from the Laws of Reason and Nature, making his whole Theory “a thing of Air,” analogous only to Geometry, which holds an Ideal never fully realized in Nature because Man is something besides Reason.
The author then quotes Major Cartwright’s Principles: “a Power, which ought never to be used ought never to exist”; “Laws to bind all must be assented to by all”; all are capable of feeling Happiness or Misery. These principles, the author argues, would justify a Leveller’s Right to equal Property; universal Suffrage implies a legal power of abolishing Property, so unless Cartwright carries his system to common Labour and Possession, no natural Right to Suffrage can exist. Cartwright must admit Expedience as the ground of all legislative Power, since universal Principles suppose uniform and perfect Subjects found only in Geometry or Heaven, never in Creatures of Flesh and Blood. The author clarifies he respects Cartwright’s Talents and Motives, quoting him as the most respectable English Advocate for the Theory deriving rights from pure Reason. Cartwright’s book, “The Peoples Barrier against undue influence,” states six foundations of constitutional Government, but three are the same (Law of Reason, Law of God, first Principles), and the other three (customs, acts of Parliament) are valid only as deduced from the former. Cartwright defines Principles as self-evident, not susceptible of proof; if one be violated, all are shaken. His Primary Rules affirm legislative Rights are inherent in nature, equal in all men, based on Personality or Reason; Property cannot modify legislative Right; every man shall have one Vote; to be free is to be governed by Laws to which we have assented; all without Suffrage are Slaves. The author notes Cartwright confounds the sufficiency of Conscience for moral agency with the sufficiency of Judgement for political Right, citing a long note where Cartwright invokes St. Paul’s words to the Corinthians about Saints judging the world.
The author argues Cartwright’s system cannot be modified by appeals to ancient Laws, since Cartwright holds “an unjust Law is no Law,” and Parliament’s acts contrary to natural Right are void. The tendency of Cartwright’s Writings is harmless; he is a “venerable State-Moralist” who pleads for the poor, not to them. The System itself, however, has two sides: it attracts shallow heads by promising to deduce all from self-evident Principles, rendering History and national Customs superfluous. It flatters the vanity of men who like to harangue on Politics, persuading them all is wrong and every man is competent to overthrow it—a confusion of political with religious claims, dangerous in tendency.
The author states the aristocratic Party’s Errors were grosser and less excusable. Anti-Jacobins denied or palliated notorious facts, justified the Bastile and the Spanish Inquisition, and confounded the condition of English and French Peasantry. Both parties played the same game: Jacobins ran wild with Rights of Man, Antagonists idolized Rights of Sovereigns, defending privileges as abstractly as if decreed by supreme Wisdom. The necessity of compensations for dethroned Princes was affirmed as if Kingdoms were private Estates; Possessions of paramount Importance were not touched because they were the Property of the King of ____, merging the Law of Nations in basest personality. During the last War, an Acquaintance’s vessel “The Liberty” was criticized as Jacobinical; “The Freedom” was suggested instead. The author quotes Sir J. Denham and Burke: is there no medium between an Ague-fit and a Frenzy-fever?
The Anti-jacobins proposed to suspend the Law to withstand arguments of the lawless. Had they lived in Sicily, France at the Revolution’s onset, or Provinces of a Sister-Island, they would have shrunk from their declarations about British feeling. In England, a man suspected of democratic Principles could not move without hatred; popular Excess was on the side of Government. History shows no Revolution effected without concurrence of Nobles, Ecclesiastics, or monied Classes—examine the Belgic Provinces under Philip the Second, the French civil Wars, the American Revolution, Sweden, Spain. From 1791 to the Peace of Amiens, existing Laws provided sufficient safeguards. The panic of Property was struck for Party purposes; its Propagators caught it themselves, like Bulls in Borrowdale running mad with the echo of their own bellowing.
The Author’s Apology and Stylistic Defense
The author opens by comparing an author’s pen to children’s legs, improving by exercise. He acknowledges personal blame for faults and is working to remove them. He notes that long solitary meditation increases power of connected thinking but lessens talent for graceful, perspicuous communication. He admits injuring his style’s facility and popularity by confining recent reading to Ancients and elder modern-language writers. He observes we insensibly imitate what we habitually admire; his aversion to the epigrammatic unconnected periods of the fashionable “Anglo-gallican Taste” made him forget that the stately march of Hooker, Bacon, Milton, and Jeremy Taylor, despite intrinsic excellence, suits a periodical essay less. He corrects this but will not sacrifice judgment for popularity by casting sentences in “French moulds” or affecting a style an ancient critic would deem invented for asthmatics to read and short-witted intellects to comprehend. He argues it injures the human mind never to be called into effort; habitual novel reading ranks among worst effects, receiving pleasure without exertion of thought. Short unconnected sentences are easily understood but, wanting cement of thought and style, all connections and “hooks-and-eyes of memory,” are easily forgotten. Those confining reading to such books dwarf faculties, reducing understandings to “deplorable imbecility.” Like idle morning visitors, brisk periods hurry in and off in profitless succession, leaving the soul flat and exhausted. He denies fostering hope of acquittal by recrimination. He will make sacrifices to render manner more attractive. All principles of his future Work, fundamental doctrines requiring Reader as fellow-labourer, primary facts provable only as readers retire into themselves, will occupy six or seven future Essays; between each he interposes Numbers for rational entertainment, filling present paper with miscellany.
He has been laying Foundations; proper merit of foundation is massiveness and solidity; conveniences and ornaments come with Superstructure. He dares not flatter himself that The Friend will please the reading Public majority; he never expected it, borrowing little from passing Events, excluding appeals to personal curiosity and interests. No real information can be conveyed without effort of thought from Reader. The “obstinate and contemptuous aversion to all intellectual effort” is the mother evil he wars against, “the Queen Bee in the Hive of our errors and misfortunes.” Proof of this Fact will form preliminary Essay on elements of moral and intellectual faculties. Soliciting attention of those fully acted upon by debilitating causes would be absurd as recommending dumb bells exercise to a paralytic patient. He hoped Readers would be aware of impracticability of suiting every Essay to every Taste, not attributing wholly to Author the austerity of first fifteen or twenty Numbers. His main anchor was Hope that meditative minds throughout Kingdom, entertaining similar convictions, would take warm interest from the very circumstance that it wanted allurements of transitory interest, quoting “Flowers / Of sober tint, and Herbs of med’cinable powers.” He hoped sufficient Readers would secure small circulation permitting Editor to carry on to conclusion. He expresses gratitude for constancy but acknowledges owing this to generous reluctance to withdraw from an Undertaking in first struggles.
He mentions two persons—”the one tantum vidi: the other I know by his works only and his public character”—professing not indifference to their praises, though delight was alloyed with pain, feeling less free to express admiration with former warmth. He has sometimes permitted Hopes a bolder flight, counting on favour from “soberly zealous among the professionally Learned.” He can bear charge of enthusiasm with resignation; if accused of presumption, he derives additional motive for watchfulness to plead Not guilty in Court of own conscience. If anxiety to obviate hasty judgements is imputed to less honorable motive, he answers: however great desires of profit, they cannot be greater than his ignorance of the world, if he chose a weekly paper planned as The Friend as most promising method of gratifying them. Signed “S T C.”
Sonnets by W. W. and Rabbinic Wisdom
Two sonnets on Tyrolese hero and Liberty follow. First asks whether mortal parents bore the Hero leading undaunted Tyrolese, or if Tell’s spirit returned; he comes like Phoebus, wearing Heron’s feather; Murderers stagger, half Host buried, rock on rock descends; Hills, Torrents, Woods embodied to bemock the Tyrant. Second addresses Liberty as “stern Nymph of soul untamed,”
The Paradox of Fortune and the Memory of Sir Alexander Ball
The argument continues on the nature of luck and the proverb “Fortune favours Fools.” When unforeseen coincidences aid a man of acknowledged cleverness, they attract little notice, for his success seems the natural result of his abilities. But when the same luck befalls a weak or ignorant man, it is remembered as something strange and remarkable. Similarly, the failures of the foolish, even when caused by circumstances that might have defeated the wisest, pass unremarked as entirely expected. The text posits a counterfactual to illustrate this point: had the all-embracing chemical discoveries of Professor Davy—discoveries preconcerted by deep meditation and evolved from his own intellect—occurred to him by lucky accidents, such as the chance possession of a particular Galvanic Battery (which he in fact desired and obtained to force material Nature to answer “prepared and preconceived questions”), they still would not be called Luck but rather the natural results of skill. Yet should accident disclose similar discoveries to a Mechanic at Birmingham or Sheffield, who grows rich despite being considered below par, the exclamations of “what a lucky Fellow!” and “Fortune does favour Fools” would follow. Thus we put a part for the whole, soothing our envy and gratifying our love of the marvellous.
The philosophic Ruler who sought Wisdom quotes: “The heart knoweth its own bitterness; and there is a joy in which the stranger intermeddleth not.” The author recalls transcribing introductory paragraphs from an old memorandum book about a year prior, attracted by the name of the extraordinary man in the last illustration. Exasperated by attempts to detract from his genius, he had altered the concluding sentences, substituting more recent discoveries, and paraphrased into a chemical Allegory the Homeric adventure of Menelaus with Proteus. Re-perusing it yesterday with sharp emotion, he remembers that the questioner’s satisfaction had occasioned the notes, led to friendship and confidence, and recalled a delightful morning riding together when the same person related the principal events of his life. The sum of his history is: “Haec, sub numine, nobismet fecimus, sapientia duce, fortuna permittente” (These things, under God, we have done for ourselves, through guidance of wisdom, with permission of Fortune). Luck gave him nothing; she worked with him as a Friend, not for him as a Fondling. The fifteen months from May 1804 to October 1805 were the most memorable period of the author’s life. The Paper on the table conveyed tidings of this Man’s death—in the fulness of his powers, in the autumn of ripe yet undecaying Manhood. A Lady who lost a lovely Child remained indifferent till a burst of sunshine dissolved her into tears; similarly, the sudden gleam of recollection at the memorandum startled the author. He mourns the loss of Sir Alexander Ball.
The Character and Legacy of Sir Alexander Ball
Ball was a Man above his Age; the Age needs his character portrayed. Having no instructions from the Family, the author cannot enter into particulars of his private History. Ball was a living confutation of the Prince of Conde’s saying that no Man appears great to his Valet de Chambre—a saying owing its currency to envy and the misapplication of the word great. Ball’s purity, evenness of Temper, and attentive Manners aided his public utility. His virtues as Master, Husband, and Parent will form an epoch in Maltese Morality. In Malta, the Order of Lay Caelibates had abandoned their chastity vows; the Knights were illiterate (their Books devolved to the public Library—contemptible), effeminate, aliens of a different race, exclusively governing—”little better than a perpetual Influenza.” The Peasantry, below their reach, were as ordinary men compared with dwarfs. Every respectable family had a Knight as Patron; to him the honour of Sister or Daughter was sacrificed; in nine instances out of ten, this Patron was the common Paramour of every Female. A State-memorial would abstain from moral allusion, but the author trusts many will rejoice that one source of misery is dried up, hearing Ball’s name with reverence as one who broke “the bonds of iniquity” and unlocked political oppression.
The funeral Eulogy must be a narrative of his Life. The author adopts the elder Writers’ words: his Fame is so great he needs no encomium, yet his worth is greater than his Fame. After the next number, the author will proceed with sketches under three heads: as naval officer; as entrusted with the Government of Malta; and his opinions from his own conversation. He had promised “Characters met with real Life,” not anticipating the sad Event compelling him to weave on a Cypress branch sprays of Laurel destined for his Bust not Monument. Death consecrates Example; wisdom slighted at the Council Table becomes oracular from the Shrine. Quoting Bishop Jeremy Taylor: “as God hath cut this tree of Paradise down… the dead Trunk may yet support a part of the declining Temple, or at least serve to kindle the Fire on the Altar.”
Christmas Within Doors in the North of Germany
A new section, “CHRISTMAS WITHIN DOORS, IN THE NORTH OF GERMANY,” extracted from Satyrane’s Letters, describes Ratzeburg customs. Children make secret presents to Parents and each other for months before Christmas; girls work in secret, rising before daylight. On Christmas Eve, a Parlour is lighted by the Children; a great yew bough is fastened on the Table with little Tapers and coloured paper hanging from it. The Children lay out presents for their Parents, concealing gifts for each other; the Parents are then introduced. The eldest Daughter and Mother wept aloud for joy; the Father clasped his children to stifle a sob. The Shadow of the Bough made a pretty Picture; the little ones were delighted when the twigs caught fire. The next day the Parents lay out presents for the Children; the Mother says privately to her Daughters, and the Father to his Sons.
The Allegory of Irus
The Friend presents an unnumbered essay, dated but not numbered, leaving payment to readers’ discretion since discontinuation orders after number 20 have not yet been received. Irus, a beggar whose nourishment was bread and water, clothed in one tattered mantle, sleeping on straw, undergoes a rapid transition of fortune. The Gods place him beside Princes with incalculable treasures. His palace excels the temple of the Gods; his clothing is purple and gold; his table is a compendium of Luxury. Dependents follow him; those he favors are deemed fortunate. Disliking his name as a reproach of former poverty, he renames himself Ceraunius (the Lightning-flasher), celebrated by public rejoicings. A Poet who had personified poverty under the name Irus now discovers that Jupiter had become enamoured of Ceraunius’s mother. Altars are erected; Priests find in the entrails of sacrifices that Ceraunius is the sole Pillar of the Western World.
Toxaris, his former neighbour, prosperous through good fortune, industry, and frugality, becomes the first victim. Irus had resented Toxaris’s prosperity. Three Advocates of the newly established Order of the Cygnet testify that Toxaris denied the Gods, committed peculations on the sacred Treasury, and increased his treasures by sacrilege. Toxaris is imprisoned, sentenced to ignominious death, and his wealth confiscated to Ceraunius. Ceraunius seeks a Bride. Euphorbia, daughter of the noble Saxones, is chosen for her beauty, ringlets, lofty forehead, brilliant eyes, stately figure, and majestic gait. Bards report that Venus pined with jealousy. On the espousal day, the anguish-stricken wife of Toxaris, with her innocent children, throws herself at his feet, entreating mercy. Enraged, Ceraunius spurns her with his feet—and Irus awaked on his straw with his tattered mantle. Conscience returns; he praises the Gods, resigned. Ceraunius vanished, but innocent Toxaris lives; Irus is poor yet guiltless. The Friend asks whether any Reader can recollect a character who will awake from his Dream of Life, poor as Irus, with the guilt and impiety of Ceraunius.
Address to Subscribers and the Experiment Explained
The Friend regards this as the first proper starting-post; the preceding twenty Numbers were a preparatory heat. He speaks as Publisher rather than Author. Through private acquaintances, his juvenile poems, and his Lectures at the Royal Institution, sufficient Names were procured to attempt the experiment. He explains the nature of the risk and why he calls the work an Experiment. He foresaw that rejecting appeals to personal passions, party spirit, curiosity, and novelty would preclude three-fourths of ordinary readers of periodicals. He hoped for individuals scattered throughout the kingdom who would value the absence of such stimulants. The Friend was printed on stamped paper to go free by General Post. He neglected to require six weeks’ notice for discontinuation—a notice less than half what London newspaper publishers require—from unwise delicacy and habitual avoidance of money thoughts. Henceforth six weeks’ notice will be expected. He had suggested subscribers pay through London acquaintances rather than post, but this occasioned numerous letters requiring his friend to call across the metropolis’s eight square miles—doubling expense. He requests subscriptions be paid to Post-masters, forwarded to Kendal. All letters must be post-paid; otherwise returned unopened. A person signing “Carlyol” sent a threatening, abusive letter from Dover; the Friend notes the dishonesty of a fictitious signature without postage, that the Courier’s Editor is responsible for offending passages, and that unintelligibility may arise from an ideotic understanding or ideotic heart.
Amusement comes from gratifying Curiosity or Passions. His experiment concerned changing the usual order of conveying instruction. Having experienced delight in perceiving fundamental Truths relative to moral Being, discovering a new world of intellectual profit at the roots of childhood teachings, he hoped for a lesser Public susceptible to the same Delight. He wished to convey fundamental instruction, to kindle the Reader’s own Torch.
The Law of Nations and the Balance of Power
The passage opens with a poetic quotation from Wordsworth, reflecting on how innocence naturally stirs men toward good deeds. The author uses this to argue that Providence, by implanting ceaseless activity in our nature, has guarded against an innocence that exists without virtue. From this foundation, the text turns to a political argument: the conduct of States cannot be determined by example, for the circumstances of one nation are too peculiar to serve as a precedent for another. If a second coincidence of circumstances were to occur, the action would be justifiable on its own merits, with the former case serving only as a light, not an authority. It is ridiculous to suppose States will be determined by example, as they are governed by imperious circumstances.
A key distinction is then drawn between individuals and States. Individuals are and must be under positive Laws, where the regularity of legal decisions is so advantageous that equity itself must sometimes be sacrificed to it, for the letter of a positive law is part of its spirit. However, States are not under positive Laws. The only fixed part of the Law of Nations is its spirit; the Letter consists wholly in the circumstances to which the Spirit is applied. It is puerile to rail against a country for imitating the measures of an ambitious enemy if that enemy has changed all the relative circumstances, rendering his conduct iniquitous, but which, having been removed, cannot control the measures of an innocent nation struggling for its own safety. The author warns that there are times when party spirit may become faction and prove fatal to Freedom, and he trusts his readers agree that blackening a Ministry is a poor excuse for blackening the character of one’s Country.
The Fable of Misetes and Pamphilus
To portray the Law of Nations and the balance of power, the author presents an allegoric fable. It describes a Colony of twenty to thirty Households, each an independent Sovereign. Through feuds, they agreed on virtual Laws, including the duty to join against an Aggressor who breaks down fences and takes possession of another’s property. The mightier the aggressor, the more cogent the motive to restrain him. In the sequel, the Proprietors disregarded the old opinion. Through Avarice, Cowardice, and Corruption, the stronger preyed on the weaker. Eventually, one over-grown Establishment, led by an adventurer named Misetes, enslaved the colony. Misetes feared neither God nor his own Conscience, was bound by no oaths, and had a genius for oppression and tyranny.
The only Estate able to defy Misetes was that of Pamphilus, who was superior in wealth and equal in strength. Pamphilus was a good man who improved the colony through his capital and industry, but Misetes bore him implacable hatred. Pamphilus’s main property was separated from Misetes by a wide river, except for one small plantation belonging to an independent Proprietor named Lathrodacnus, a kinsman who owed his independence to Pamphilus. Lathrodacnus, despite Pamphilus’s remonstrances, built a large number of ferry-boats on the opposite shore, claiming his right as an independent Sovereign. Pamphilus argued the law was annulled by Misetes’s tyranny and that Lathrodacnus had a duty to join him. He offered Lathrodacnus a plantation ten times the value of the boats to secure them, but Lathrodacnus refused. Pamphilus then received intelligence that Lathrodacnus had decided to join Misetes, and so he took possession of the passage-boats by force.
A great outcry was raised against Pamphilus for imitating Misetes. Pamphilus replied with an analogy of a shooting party with a Quaker who refuses to give up his gun to defend against a known murderer, asking if he would be called a robber for wresting the gun away. The author states it is the business of The Friend to lay down Principles, not to make applications to particular cases.
On Epitaphs and Immortality
The passage then shifts to a discussion of Epitaphs, following translations from the Italian Poet Chiabrera. The author quotes Dr. Johnson’s definition of an Epitaph as an inscription on a Tomb, which is commonly panegyrical and ought not to be longer than common beholders have patience to peruse. The author argues that an Epitaph presupposes a Monument, a custom arising from a twofold desire: to guard the remains and to preserve memory. He quotes Cambden on nations that neglected burial, and Weever, who says Epitaphs proceeded from the presage of Immortality, referring to the Scholars of Linus the Theban Poet.
The author asserts that without the consciousness of Immortality, Man could not desire to live in remembrance. The Dog or Horse cannot anticipate the sorrow of its companions. The wish to be remembered is a consequence of Reason and an intimation of our imperishable nature. He notes the early inquisitiveness of children about origination, which implies questions about tendency, as origin and tendency are co-relative. The author contrasts Simonides, who buried a Corse found by the sea, with another Philosopher who regarded a dead body as the “Shell of the flown Bird.” Both sages were in sympathy with our nature, and their feelings have a finer connection than contrast, as qualities pass insensibly into their contraries. The author takes his stand on a midway point. A sepulchral Monument is a tribute to a Man as a human Being, and an Epitaph is a record to preserve the memory of the dead, accomplished in close connection with the bodily remains. He laments that moderns have lost the advantages of burying the dead by way-sides, where monuments borrowed beauty from Nature.
Sir Alexander Ball’s Character and Methods
The passage continues the account of Sir Alexander Ball, describing his intellectual generosity. He would ask the narrator to write on subjects, then compare papers, showing pleasure at new arguments rather than mere agreement. He possessed a quality attributed to the late Mr. Fox: deriving keen pleasure from clear reasoning for its own sake, connected with veracity and love of justice. Ball felt no jealousy of great talent, unlike “vulgar Functionaries” who arm themselves against genius with factitious contempt, like medieval geographers marking unknown lands as “Desarts or Wildernesses inhabited by Griffins and Chimseras.” He made talent instrumental to his purposes wherever found, but sought out and cherished talent blended with moral worth. Had Providence preserved his life to run Nelson’s course of glory, Ball would have resembled his illustrious Friend in two points: thinking nothing done until all possible was accomplished, and calling forth all talent and virtue within his sphere to create “a band of Heroes.”
The Siege of Malta
Ball was stationed off Malta to intercept French supplies. Encouraged by his promises, the Maltese rose through their Casals, storming the Citadel at Civita Vecchia, destroying the French Garrison by throwing them over battlements. During the blockade and siege of Valletta, Ball displayed strength, versatility, and sagacity that seemed intuitive. The Citizens of Vallette marvelled at Ball’s ship wintering at anchor in unexampled depth, out of reach of guns. An old man showed the narrator the “Sea Coombe” where “Father Ball” first landed. Ball freed himself from English contempt for foreigners by living among the Maltese, finding in some seemingly contemptible individuals virtues of disinterested patriotism, fortitude, and self-denial worthy of “an ancient Roman.”
English Gentlemanly Character
The passage digresses on the English “gentlemanly feeling,” originating from titles following property law, inherited by eldest sons only, and diffused through the Constitution and Trade. Uniformity of dress inspired all classes to conform to notions of a Gentleman—chiefly “a certain generosity in trifles.” Encroachments of lower classes caused reserve and jealousy. This feeling is “the ornament of Virtue, and oftentimes a support; but it is a wretched substitute for it.” Expecting this character where its causes have not existed is unreasonable; its absence should not decide against national worth.
Ball’s Views on English Superiority
Ball thought Englishmen dwelt on and exaggerated their National Virtues, weighing them against Foreigners’ vices rather than their virtues. English courage has greater enthusiasm than Germans’ and greater steadiness than French—”every Soldier has a face of his own,” as a Neapolitan observed. But English are inferior in enduring privations, friendly temper with allied troops, obedience regarding treatment of inhabitants, and above all sobriety and temperance—as seen during the siege of Vallette, where an indignant Commander might quote Cartwright’s Love’s Convert: “Will you still owe your virtues to your bellies?”
Maltese Conduct and the Bread Incident
From first insurrection to French departure, no excess was charged against the Maltese except razing one Traitor’s house. They never injured the native Nobility, collecting Lead and Iron for bullets while sheltering Nobles from French resentment. Once, at famine’s command, Maltese Troops forced their way to the Ovens baking Bread for British Soldiery. A General urged Ball to threaten consequences. Ball replied: “Would you have us threaten death to Men dying with Famine?… I will not degrade myself or outrage humanity by menacing Famine with Massacre!” He consulted Sir Thomas Troubridge, then ordered his senior Lieutenant to seize corn ships at Messina—the Neapolitan Court, though dependent on British support, had answered remonstrances with “sanguinary Edicts” precluding supply. The orders were executed; the Siege continued; the Court of Naples responded with hatred, fear, and respect.
The Siege’s Trials and the Capitulation
Ball remained for months the only Englishman who did not think the Siege hopeless. At St. Antonio, four miles from Vallette, Captain Vivian was his sole English Companion. The Maltese relied on Ball with “child-like helplessness.” His preservation he attributed to the French Garrison’s dejection and the Island’s terrain—small fields enclosed with stone walls, rising in tiers, forming “an effective Fortification.” He procured information through Clergy and Maltese fidelity, making French spies his own agents. He told the narrator he sometimes won bets he knew he would lose, to suspend Officers’ impatience.
Main Arguments
The central argument of The Friend concerns the nature of conscience and its role in human life. Coleridge argues that conscience cannot be solved by mechanic compost or chemical combination of appetence, memory, and understanding; it is an element of our being, unrelenting yet not absolute. From the fact of conscience, he deduces free-agency as a necessary inference. He states that after long study of works in ancient and modern European languages, he satisfied his mind by arguments forced on him by reflection on his own being and observation of others, especially little children.
Coleridge advances as an article of his faith that there is Evil distinct from Error and Pain, operating equally in subjects of Taste and Morality. He contrasts this with the view that follies originate in miscalculation from ignorance, which would make his business that of moral arithmetic. He also rejects the belief in absolute innate necessity, which would make his task merely to amuse. The work argues that all men are in error, but they are not in the same error, and each may heal the other.
The work argues for the importance of principles over expedience in all things. Coleridge promises to refer men to principles, examining the grounds of morality, the origin of moral impulses, and the dependence of taste on moral impulses. He argues that truths indispensable to man as a moral being are above all expedience; there can be no evil so great as ignorance of them. The sole condition imposed by conscience is employing no unworthy means, entrusting the event to the full promulgation of truth.
A significant argument concerns the progress of truth and the relationship between truth and evil. Coleridge argues that the gain from truth is essential, permanent, and spreading through all times, while the loss is contingent, temporary, and vanishing at knowledge’s approach. He compares truth to a spring turning snow-drift into its own form, increasing its stream; if arrested, it suffers delay, not loss. Evils occasioned by truth’s promulgation originate in attempts to suppress it, in imposture’s fury, or in ignorance roused from lethargy.
The work argues for the role of the Few in human improvement. Coleridge contends that our improvement comes from the successive Few who compensate for their limited sphere by intensity of action. History—Jewish, Grecian, Roman Republics, Christian Church, Europe since the Treaty of Westphalia—shows noble structures raised by the wisdom of the Few, undermined by ignorance and profligacy of the Many. He argues that the mass of mankind still seeks ends by any means rather than the appointed ones.
Coleridge argues against the errors of party spirit on both sides. He contends that Reason, though the source of all moral notions of right and wrong, cannot alone govern individuals or States because its laws cannot satisfy the first conditions of human society. He argues that the right of property cannot be deduced from pure Reason; Reason could give property only in the forms of things produced by individual power, not in the matter. He engages with Major Cartwright’s principles, arguing that universal suffrage implies a legal power of abolishing property, and that Cartwright must admit expedience as the ground of all legislative power.
The work argues for the importance of intellectual effort and against the aversion to thinking. Coleridge identifies “the obstinate and contemptuous aversion to all intellectual effort” as the mother evil he wars against, “the Queen Bee in the Hive of our errors and misfortunes.” He argues that habitual novel reading ranks among the worst effects on the mind, receiving pleasure without exertion of thought. Short unconnected sentences are easily understood but, wanting the cement of thought and style, all connections and hooks-and-eyes of memory, are easily forgotten.
Coleridge argues for the distinction between Reason and Understanding. Reason is the faculty of seeing whether ideas contradict each other, possessed by all men in the same degree. The Understanding, or Prudence, deals with facts of experience. Conscience is Reason applied to motives of conduct. He warns against the sophism that because Reason is equal, the means of exercising it are equal, and against the error that Reason is insignificant, as it implies the powers of reflection, comparison, suspension, and a controlling Will.
The work argues for the importance of veracity over mere accuracy. Coleridge distinguishes verbal truth as correspondence of fact to words from moral truth involving the speaker’s intention. Veracity, not mere accuracy, is the point of duty. The Conscience commands conveying adequate notions when practicable, right notions at all events, or silence. He criticizes Bolingbroke for removing Love, Justice, and Choice from power and intelligence yet claiming to leave conviction of a Deity—like paralysing the optic nerve while claiming not to touch the eye.
Key Concepts
Conscience and Free-agency: Coleridge presents conscience as an element of our being, unrelenting yet not absolute, which cannot be reduced to mechanical or chemical combinations of other faculties. From the fact of conscience, he deduces free-agency as a necessary inference. This forms the fundamental postulate of the work, announced in the first number, from which moral responsibility and the existence of Evil essentially such are derived.
The Self-contradicting Principle: A central concept is the sense of a self-contradicting principle in our nature, a disharmony distinguishing man from other animals. Coleridge cites Shaftesbury and Hobbes as contrasting philosophers on human nature, and declares his creed that whatever humbles the heart and forces the mind inward—sickness, grief, remorse, love—renders us docile to the testimony of fellow-men.
Evil, Error, and Pain: Coleridge distinguishes Evil from Error and Pain, arguing that Evil operates equally in subjects of Taste and Morality. He rejects the view that follies originate in miscalculation from ignorance (which would make his business moral arithmetic) and the belief in absolute innate necessity (which would make his task merely to amuse).
The Fable of the Golden Age: The work includes a fable read during Coleridge’s Freshman’s Term at Cambridge, describing a golden age when Conscience acted with the ease of Instinct. An honored Elder enters a cavern and hears a voice warning of coming madness; when the prophecy is fulfilled, the Prophet finds his fellow-men transformed—one worships a heap of substances dug from the earth, another chases a butterfly, another stabs a precursor in the back, and troops of men are enslaved. The Prophet, unable to distinguish dreams from waking, plunges into the maddening water, uttering, “It is in vain to be sane in a World of Madmen.”
The Chamois-hunter: Coleridge introduces the image of the Chamois-hunter as a guide for the reader who follows a close reasoner. The guide takes the shortest way and warns of perils, but cannot carry the reader; each must strain his own sinews and make footing by the blood of toil. This illustrates the difficulty of reasoning and the necessity of intellectual effort.
The Few and the Many: A recurring concept is the distinction between the successive Few who compensate for their limited sphere by intensity of action and the Many whose ignorance and profligacy undermine the noble structures raised by wisdom. History shows this pattern from Jewish, Grecian, and Roman Republics through the Christian Church and Europe since the Treaty of Westphalia.
Self-delusion: Coleridge describes a “curious art of self-delusion” by which men throw blame from the moral principle (amenable to will) onto the intellect (independent of will). Thus for one exclamation “how dishonest I am,” we hear a hundred times “what a Fool I am!” A man would rather be condemned as a Rogue than acquitted as a Blockhead.
The Queen Bee in the Hive: Coleridge identifies “the obstinate and contemptuous aversion to all intellectual effort” as the mother evil he wars against, “the Queen Bee in the Hive of our errors and misfortunes.” This concept underlies his critique of habitual novel reading and short unconnected sentences that require no exertion of thought.
Veracity versus Accuracy: Coleridge distinguishes verbal truth (correspondence of fact to words) from moral truth (the speaker’s intention). Veracity, not mere accuracy, is the point of duty. The Conscience commands conveying adequate notions when practicable, right notions at all events, or silence.
Pious Frauds: Coleridge dislikes the expression “Pious Frauds,” arguing that the Fathers’ doctrine of lawful deceit for good purposes corrupted Christianity, paganizing it to christen Paganism. Truth, Virtue, and Happiness cannot be divided.
Reason, Understanding, and Conscience: A note explains that Reason is the faculty of seeing whether ideas contradict each other, possessed by all men in the same degree. The Understanding, or Prudence, deals with facts of experience. Conscience is Reason applied to motives of conduct. Coleridge warns against the sophism that because Reason is equal, the means of exercising it are equal.
The Gentleman: Coleridge explores the emphatic sense of “Gentleman,” which is easier to feel than define, neither requiring high moral excellence nor ornamental graces. The secret lies in showing respect to others through all social intercourse, with habitual ease, while implying an assured anticipation of reciprocal respect.
Irus and Ceraunius: The allegory of Irus presents a beggar who undergoes a rapid transition of fortune, renaming himself Ceraunius (the Lightning-flasher), only to awake from his dream of life poor as Irus yet guiltless. The Friend asks whether any Reader can recollect a character who will awake from his Dream of Life, poor as Irus, with the guilt and impiety of Ceraunius.
The Experiment: Coleridge describes The Friend as an experiment concerning changing the usual order of conveying instruction. The experiment was whether he could procure four or five hundred readers desiring pleasure from being instructed, interested in the foundations of their opinions. He distinguishes Thought (voluntary production of states of consciousness) from Attention (concerning order and connection of familiar thoughts).
Themes
A recurring theme in The Friend is the relationship between knowledge and moral improvement. Coleridge argues that the recent discovery of educating nations promises more than previous approaches, and he presents his most inspiriting vision of future bliss as the moment when thousands of glorified spirits, whose reason and conscience his efforts unfolded, sing redemption and repeat his “new Name” in Heaven. He suggests that were but a hundred men to combine conviction that virtuous habits may be formed by the very means knowledge is communicated, with the perseverance of a Clarkson or Bell, prophecy’s promises would disclose themselves—as a Castle hidden by mist discovers itself by reflection in a tranquil Lake. The theme culminates in the assertion, “We are bad ourselves, because we despair of the goodness of others.”
The work explores the theme of suffering and its effects on the human mind. The narrative of Maria Eleonora Schoning traces the progress of madness step by step, showing how one painful idea, vividly impressed under unusual circumstances, might produce alienation of the Understanding. The story of the Nuremberg wire-drawer’s daughter, who nurses her dying father, loses her property to revenue officers, suffers brutal violence in a churchyard, and finally conceives the thought of offering her own soul for her friend’s salvation, exemplifies how suffering can drive the mind to desperate resolutions. Coleridge reflects on guilt as “a dream of madness, that worst madness, the madness of the heart.”
The theme of moral progress and improvement appears throughout the work. Coleridge argues that general anxiety about education, attention to works on its principles, and unprecedented sales of instructional volumes demonstrate improvement. He contrasts the fashions and head-dresses of grandmothers with present simple ornaments, and notes the wide diffusion of moral information from popular Essayists has been beneficent. He observes the close connection between private libertinism and national subversion, citing Oxford and Cambridge’s improved state versus twenty-five years ago.
The work engages with the theme of party spirit and extremism. Coleridge argues that extremes meet, examining how both Jacobins and Anti-Jacobins erred in their approaches to political questions. He quotes Sir J. Denham and Burke, asking whether there is no medium between an Ague-fit and a Frenzy-fever. He describes how the panic of Property was struck for Party purposes, and its propagators caught it themselves, like Bulls in Borrowdale running mad with the echo of their own bellowing.
The theme of truth and its progress runs through the work. Coleridge argues that truth is like a Spring turning Snow-drift into its own form, increasing its stream; if arrested, it suffers delay, not loss. He quotes Tertullian on chaff flying while grain is stored, and Luther on sparing weak consciences without hazarding one’s soul. The prejudices of one age are condemned by the next. He argues that as Protestants and Englishmen we have cause to trust Truth, following its pillar of fire, and that from great eras of national illumination we date our main national advantages.
The work explores the theme of character and moral example, particularly through the portrait of Sir Alexander Ball. Ball is presented as a Man above his Age, a living confutation of the Prince of Conde’s saying that no man appears great to his Valet de Chambre. His purity, evenness of temper, and attentive manners aided public utility. His virtues as Master, Husband, and Parent will form an epoch in Maltese Morality.
