" And his first six weeks in the metropolis were spent in a
very characteristic fashion--in the preparation, namely, of a work which
he pronounced with perfect accuracy to be destined to fall dead from the
press. He shut himself up in a lodging in Buckingham Street, Strand,
and by the end of the above-mentioned period he had completed his
admirable translation of _Wallenstein_, in itself a perfect, and
indeed his most perfect dramatic poem. The manuscript of this English
version of Schiller's drama was purchased by Messrs. Longman under the
condition that the translation and the original should appear at the
same time. Very few copies were sold, and the publishers, indifferent
to Coleridge's advice to retain the unsold copies until the book should
become fashionable, disposed of them as waste paper. Sixteen years
afterwards, on the publication of _Christabel_, they were eagerly
sought for, and the few remaining copies doubled their price. It was
while engaged upon this work that he formed that connection with
political jouralism which lasted, though with intermissions, throughout
most of the remainder of his life. His early poetical pieces had, as we
have seen, made their first appearance in the _Morning Post_, but
hitherto that newspaper had received no prose contribution from his
pen.
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