it placed him preyed upon his mind. He formed several projects in order to relieve himself from pecuniary embarrassment: one of these was a systematic contribution to "Blackwood's Magazine." Accordingly, No. I. of a "Selection from Mr. Coleridge's Literary Correspondence appeared in Oct. 1821, but it was not followed by any others. Continued ill-health had taken from the unfortunate author what little perseverance he may once have possessed. On the incorporation of the Royal Society of Literature in 1825, Coleridge was selected as one of the ten Royal Associates, and, as such, received from that time 100 guineas a-year out of the king's private purse. The annuity, however, was discontinued on the death of George IV.

In his later years he was in the habit of holding weekly conversazioni, when he indulged in those wonderful powers of conversation with which he was gifted. As a talker he was quite as famous as Dr. Johnson. He has himself said, that, with a pen in his hand, he felt a thousand difficulties in giving expression to his thoughts, but that he never felt the smallest impediment "in the fullest utterance of his most subtle fancies by word of mouth." His conversation was not fragmentary, but would continue for hours at a time without aid from others, either in the way of suggestion or contradiction. In his happiest moods, there was a charm about his voice and manner that none could resist, and crowds of friends and admirers would attend the weekly meetings. The influence which Coleridge exerted by this means over the minds of others-especially on young men-is still felt.

Among those who sat at the feet of the poet was Thomas Carlyle, who gives the following sketch of him as he appeared in his old age:

"Coleridge sat on the brow of Highgate Hill in those years, looking down on London and its smoke-tumult, like a sage escaped from the inanity of life's battle; attracting towards him the thoughts of innumerable brave souls still engaged there. The good man, he was now getting old, towards sixty perhaps, gave you the idea of a life that had been full of suffering; a

life heavy laden, half vanquished, still swimming painfully in seas of manifold, physical, and other bewilderment. Brow and head were round, and of massive weight, but the face was flabby and irresolute. The deep eyes of a light hazel, were as full of sorrow as of inspiration; confused pain looked mildly from them, as in a kind of mild astonishment. The whole figure and air, good and amiable otherwise, might be called flabby and irresolute; expressive of weakness under possibility of strength. He hung loosely on his limbs, with knees bent, and stooping attitude; in walking, he rather shuffled than decisively stept; and a lady once remarked, he never could fix which side of the garden walk would suit him best, but continually shifted in cork-screw fashion, and kept trying both. A heavy-laden, high-aspiring, and surely much suffering man."

Towards the close of his life, he seems to have emancipated himself from the indulgence of opium, which had exerted such a disastrous influence upon a great portion of his life; and his end was peace. He died on the 25th of July 1834.

The poetry of Coleridge is remarkable for its melody of versification, which exerts a kind of fascination quite apart from the sentiment which is conveyed. At the same time, many of his poems are rich in imagination and fancy, and full of delicate shades of thought. He especially excels in producing that feeling of ominous dread of some undefined evil which we experience in reading the Ancient Mariner and Christabel. The former of these is perhaps the finest of all his poems, though some would assign that honour to Love, certainly one of the most exquisite poems in the language. Coleridge's prose works are only the fragments of a great work which he at one time contemplated; but such as they are, they display profound thought, fine critical taste, and a wide range of knowledge; and they have been found very suggestive to younger minds.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.-1774-1843.

ROBERT SOUTHEY, the most voluminous writer of his time, was the son of a linen draper, and was born at Bristol, 12th August 1774. His childhood, from his second year, was spent chiefly at Bath, where he resided with an old maiden aunt, who was somewhat eccentric in her habits, and so passionately fond of the theatre that Southey said he had seen more plays before he was seven than after he was twenty. At eight years of age he had read Shakespeare, and Beaumont and Fletcher, and at nine had begun to compose dramas himself. In the meantime he had been placed at two or three schools, but his friends seem to have been unfortunate in their selection, and he never looked back upon his early tuition with satisfaction. In 1788, he proceeded to Westminster School, the expense of his education from this time being defrayed by his maternal uncle, the Rev. Herbert Hill, chaplain to the British Factory at Lisbon.

The year after his arrival at Westminster, the French Revolution broke out, and made a great impression upon his young and ardent mind. He espoused what he considered the cause of liberty, and was rebuked by his master for sending up a theme in which he attacked Edmund Burke for his anti-revolutionary zeal. Some time after this, a periodical was started by Southey and some of the other boys called the Flagellant, and in the ninth number there was a sarcastic attack upon corporal punishment, which was then carried out at Westminster with great severity. The head master, Dr. Vincent, immediately commenced a prosecution for libel against the printer. Thereupon, Southey avowed himself the author of the obnoxious paper, and offered an apology. It was not, however, accepted, and although he had given great promise as a scholar, he was expelled, after he had been at Westminster four years. In January 1793, he

went to Oxford, but was refused admittance to Christ Church; he, however, entered Balliol College in the autumn of that year.

When he went to Oxford it was the wish of his uncle that he should prepare himself for the Church, but his enthusiastic temperament had led him into extravagant opinions both in religion and politics, and, like Coleridge, he avowed himself both a republican and a socinian. About this time he wrote a dramatic poem called Wat Tyler, which, however, was not published until some years later, when a bookseller printed it without his permission, in order to annoy him, for by that time his opinions had undergone a complete change. He also wrote an epic poem of considerable merit, entitled Joan of Arc. It was in the summer of 1794 that Southey was introduced to Coleridge, who was then on a visit to a friend at Oxford. The two young poets soon discovered an identity in their opinions and aspirations, and the result was their scheme of a pantisocracy to be founded on the banks of the Susquehanna. Full of this project, Southey left Oxford and went to Bristol. His father was now dead, and his aunt had disowned him, he was therefore obliged to support himself for a time by delivering lectures on history. About this time he, in conjunction with Mr. Robert Lovell, published a volume of poems; and Cottle the bookseller gave him fifty guineas for his Joan of Arc. The pantisocratic scheme fell to the ground. In November 1796, Southey and Coleridge were married on the same day to two sisters, and on the day of the marriage Southey left his wife at the church door and started for the Continent. His uncle, Mr. Hill, had been on a visit to England, and on his return to Portugal took Southey with him.

The six months which he spent on the Continent he devoted to the study of the language and literature of Spain and Portugal. His uncle seems also to have endeavoured to overcome his objections to taking orders, but without effect, though his opinions on religious matters appear to have undergone a change. On his

return to England he found that Joan of Arc, which had been published during his absence, had been favourably received by the public, and in the following year he published a volume of minor poems, and his Letters from Spain and Portugal. In the beginning of 1797, a generous college friend bestowed upon him an allowance of £160 per annum, and he now became a student of Gray's Inn, with the view of preparing himself for the bar. After a year's trial, however, he gave up the attempt, and began to think seriously of adopting literature as a profession. At this time his uncle invited him to pay him another visit, and he therefore went a second time to Lisbon, taking his wife with him. On his return to England, in 1801, he was appointed secretary to Mr. Corry, Chancellor of the Exchequer for Ireland, with a salary of about £350 a-year. His duties were extremely light, and Mr. Corry wished him to devote some of his leisure to the tuition of his son; to this Southey objected, and threw up the post after holding it about six months.

From this time he devoted himself entirely to literature. In 1801, he had published Thalaba the Destroyer, and with the reputation he had now gained as a poet he found little difficulty in getting literary work, and he was not only able to supply the wants of his own family, but to assist others. He collected and edited an edition of Chatterton's works for the purpose of providing a fund for the support of the sister of that marvellous boy,

"The sleepless soul that perished in his pride."

The edition was published by Cottle at the close of 1802, and Mrs. Newton, the unfortunate poet's sister, obtained £300 through the exertions of her generous friends. In the meanwhile, Coleridge had taken up his residence at Greta Hall, near Keswick, and Southey, in order that his wife might have the companionship of her sister, also took up his abode at the Lakes. He was first a guest at Greta Hall, then became joint-occupier, afterwards sole tenant. When Coleridge removed to London in 1810, Southey took charge of his family, and his hospitable