Coleridge's Lecture on Poetry, 21st Nov 1811, London Philosophical Society

To bring this blog back to the specific research project in hand: here is one small example of the kind of the problems involved in producing a reader-friendly version of Coleridge's lectures.

It's a passage from Lecture 2 of the 1811-12 series. This lecture is written up in toto in Collier's Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton (1856). We also have some MS notes of Coleridge's, which only cover the material of the first five or six paragraphs of the lecture Collier transcribed. So let's take, for example, this passage here, as transcribed by Collier.



That's clear enough, and is the sort of thing Coleridge might say. But there's a wrinkle.

The passage above was written in 1856, when Collier transcribed the shorthand notes he made in 1811. Usually his transcription is quite close to what his notes say (although quite often Collier changes individual words and monkeys around with the order within sentences, which is annoying). But the Gulliver's Travels point is, well, what's-the-word, let's see, wrong. Here, as deciphered by R A Foakes, is what Collier's shorthand note actually said.

He illustrated this sentiment further by an allusion to Gulliver’s Travels, which I did not exactly comprehend [CC 5:1, 204].

Uh-oh. 'This sentiment' is the question whether Pope is a good or bad poet. Going through his young-man notes, old-man Collier did his best. But, since we happen to have STC's own lecture notes for this paragaph (alas, not for the rest of the lecture), we can see that he got this wrong. Here's STC:

I[t] has, I doubt not, occurred to many of my Auditors, as well as to myself, to hear literary when the conversation has turned on literature, to hear it asked—whether we think Mr Pope a great Poet—offence and shock given to many—the dispute follows–the disputants leave off with but a mean opinion of each another–yet never thought that the dispute was strictly preposterous, i.e., began at the wrong end—and that they each should have first ascertained what the other understood by the word Poetry. If the veracious Lemuel Gulliver on his return from his celebrated Travels, and previous to his publication, had asked of us mentioned to us the names of two public characters in the country which he had unfortunately heard at an unfortunate alien act had compelled him to leave, and then asked—which of the two we thought the nobler Houynmn, we should most certainly if only we could neigh out the word, answer him by asking him—what is a H.? What do you mean by the word?

Here, I think, I have to relegate Collier's guess to a footnote, and insert Coleridge's actual point; but I also have to write it so that it fits smoothly with the rest of the lecture, not revert suddenly to note form. There's an element of the fake antique about this, but I can't see another way. Here's what I'm thinking of going with.

It has, I doubt not, occurred often to many of my Auditors, as well as to myself, when the conversation has turned on literature, to hear it asked –whether we think Mr Pope a great Poet. This is a matter that has been warmly discussed on both sides, some positively maintaining the affirmative, and others dogmatically insisting upon the negative, with offence and shock given to many, and the disputants leave off with but a mean opinion of each another. Yet it never occurred to either party that the dispute was strictly preposterous, that is, began at the wrong end, and that each should have first ascertained what the other understood by the word Poetry. If the veracious Lemuel Gulliver on his return from his celebrated Travels, and previous to his publication, had mentioned to us the names of two public characters in the country which an unfortunate alien act had compelled him to leave, and then asked—which of the two we thought the nobler Houyhnhnm, we should most certainly, if only we could neigh out the word, answer him by asking him—what is a Houyhnhnm? What do you mean by the word?