who had actually experienced those creative impulses which as a
theorist he endeavoured to account for. He had had the inspiration of
poetry; he had achieved it; and to that extent he had indisputable
evidence before him. If only on the one hand he had extended his
method a little further than he did, and taken into consideration that
formal side of art which is dear to classicism, and on the other hand
been more confident--or shall I say less shy?--when he considered the
origin of the creative imagination, the ideal conceiver and creator of
_Natura Naturata_, then his scheme would have been complete--probably
too complete. On the latter subject, however, he threw out hints which
were broad enough, and did not wholly shun the controversial sphere of
metaphysics. The critic who would avoid the heights and depths of
mysticism would do well to imitate his reserve, and exceed him in
metaphysical diffidence.

"_Good Sense_ is the _Body_ of poetic genius," said Coleridge,
"_Fancy_ its _Drapery_, _Motion_ its _Life_, and _Imagination_ the
_Soul_ that is everywhere, and in each; and forms all into one
graceful and intelligent whole." It is by that "synthetic and magical
power" which he calls "imagination" that the poet "brings the whole
soul of man into activity," and "diffuses a tone and spirit of unity."
Coleridge's theory of the Fine Arts presupposes his metaphysic; and it
asserts the primacy of the reason. "Of all we see, hear, feel and
touch the substance is and must be in ourselves: and therefore there
is no alternative in reason between the dreary (and, thank Heaven!
almost impossible) belief that everything around us is but a phantom,
or that the life which is in us is in them likewise.... The artist
must imitate that which is within the thing, that which is active
through form and figure, and discourses to us by symbols."

He defines the beautiful as "that in which the _many_, still seen as
many, becomes one," and takes as an instance: "The frost on the
windowpane has by accident crystallised into a striking resemblance of
a tree or a sea-weed. With what pleasure we trace the parts, and their
relation to each other and to the whole." "The beautiful arises from
the perceived harmony of an object, whether sight or sound, with the
inborn and constitutive rules of the judgment and imagination, and it
is always intuitive." It is that which "calls on the soul" (+kalon+
quasi +kaloun+). He conceives it to be the function of