the Departing Year,' and many other of his earlier poems) as out-pourings of the wild inspiration of old romance (is it needful to refer to his Ancient Mariner,' and his 'Genevieve,' and his Christabel?')—and his latest verses, as treasuring in a few lines, matured philosophy -mingling wisdom with retrospect, and intimations of holy truths with pleasant and simple images. Nor must we forget to allude to his version of Wallenstein,' a master-translation of a master-workor his original dramatic compositions, too full of deep thought and delicate imagery for a stage, on which, to ensure success, an author (to borrow the words of the most accomplished actress of these later days) should write "as they paint the scenes, in great splashes of black and white."

To all these several merits the world has done, and is doing, slow but sure justice. We cannot but remember the hooting of derision with which Christabel' was received, on its first appearance; nor how, a year or two afterwards, when Lord Byron, in transplanting one of its images into his more popular 'Parisina,' took occasion to call it "that singularly wild and beautiful poem," many, and those educated persons, regarded the praise as affectation, or, at best, as a condescending kindness. Since then, however, that fragment has crept up in public opinion, and been more quoted than perhaps any other poem of its length. Such has been the progress of the author's fame. It may not have spread so widely as the reputation of other writers-one half of which is, after all, but a refined species of mob-popularity; but it has risen to a dignity and an elevation, surpassing that gained by most men, in the estimation of those, in whose hearts it is the poet's highest distinction and glory to have his name embalmed.

Many have grieved over the smallness of the number of Coleridge's worksthey would have had much gold and silver, instead of the few diamonds of perfect water he has bequeathed to them. Many have regretted that his powers were expended on conversation instead of being turned to less perishable uses. But such expenditure is not wastediscourse must have listeners; and the eloquence of such a man fulfils a purpose of no mean importance, if it encourage the timid-if it reach the apprehensions of the slow, and excite the indolent to think. The philosophers of old thus conversed in their porticos and groves, and their works were to be

found in the minds of their followers.

And now, while we record that this tongue of wisdom is mute for everthis hand of the minstrel is cold and dead, we feel it our duty to utter a warning voice to our rising poets, and earnestly to impress on them that they are undertaking no holiday task—that if they would take up the prostrate sceptres of those who have been kings and rulers among us, it is not by a careless and affected dedication of their powers that they may hope to wield them.

Like the champions of old, they must purify themselves for such high service by devotional vigils-they must bind themselves by vows of good faith as well as of daring and of diligenceand each, as much as in him lies, regard it as a sacred duty to keep the true fire upon the temple of the altar from expiring—even though the prouder lot of rekindling it to its olden brightness be reserved for others mightier than himself.

We add the following extract from a work recently published.*

“ Saturday, April 27, 1832. Walked to Highgate to call on Mr. Coleridge. I was ushered into the parlour while the girl carried up my letter to his room. She presently returned and observed that her master was very poorly, but would be happy to see me, if I would walk up to his room, which I gladly did. He is short in stature and appeared to be careless in his dress. I was impress ed with the strength of his expression, his venerable locks of white, and his trembling frame. He remarked that he had for some time past suffered much bodily anguish. For many months (thirteen) seventeen hours each day had he walked up and down his chamber. I inquired whether his mental powers were affected by such intense suffering; 'Not at all,' said he, 'my body and head appear to hold no connexion; the pain of my body, blessed be God, never reaches my mind.' After some further conversation, and some inquiries respecting Dr. Chalmers, he remarked, 'The Doctor must have suffered exceedingly at the strange conduct of our once dear brother labourer in Christ, Rev. Mr. Irving. Never can I describe how much it has wrung my bosom. I had watched with astonishment and admiration the wonderful and rapid develope

* Journal of a Residence in Scotland, &c. &c.

ment of his powers. Never was such unexampled advance in intellect as between his first and second volume of sermons. The first full of Gallicisms, and Scoticisms, and all other cisms. The second discovering all the elegance and power of the best writers of the Elizabethean age. And then so sudden a fall, when his mighty energies made him so terrible to sinners.' Of the mind of the celebrated Puffendorf he said, 'his mind is like some mighty volcano, red with flame, and dark with tossing clouds of smoke through which the lightnings play and glare most awfully.' Speaking of the state of the different classes of England, he remarked, we are in a dreadful state; care like a foul hag sits on us all; one class presses with iron foot upon the wounded heads beneath, and all struggle for a worthless supremacy, and all to rise to it move shackled by their expenses; happy, happy are you, who hold your birth-right in a country where things are different; you, at least at present, are in a transition state; God grant it may ever be so! Sir, things have come to a dreadful pass with us, we need most deeply a reform, but I fear not the horrid reform which we shall have; things must alter, the upper classes of England have made the lower persons, things; the people in breaking from this unnatural state will break from duties also.'

"He spoke of Mr. Alston with great affection and high encomium; he thought him in imagination and colour almost unrivaled.

"Of all men whom I have ever met, the most wonderful in conversational powers is Mr. S. T. Coleridge, in whose company I spend much time. I wish I had room for some of his conversation. When I bade him a last farewell, he was in bed, in great bodily suffering, but with great mental vigour, and feeling a humble resignation to the will of his heavenly Father. As I sat by his side I thought he looked very much like my dear grandfather, and I almost felt as if one spoke to me from the dead. Before I left him he said, 'I wish before you go, to give you some little memento to call up the hours we have passed together.' He requested me to hand him a book from his book-case, with pen and ink, then sitting up in bed he wrote a few lines and his name, kindly and most undeservedly expressing the pleasure he had had in my company. He will not live long I fear; but his name and memory will be dearer to the ages to come than to the present."

DALECARLIAN MARRIAGE.

Ir was Saturday at even (says Daumont in his Voyage en Suède), and the following day had been fixed for the nuptials. The guests arrived in groups, their number exceeding two hundred persons. They were received at the house of the betrothed, where they deposited reindeer and bacon hams, butter, cheese, game, beer, and brandy, which they had brought in their cars to contribute to the festivity. After having conversed a few moments with the master of the house, and taken refreshments, they were successively conducted to the neighbours, amongst whom their lodging had been prepared. In the evening, about seven o'clock, the betrothed, accompanied by her father and friends, set out for the house of the vicar, where she was to sleep, in order that she might be the earlier ready next morning. Her intended, surrounded by his family and a group of guests, repaired thither at an early hour, and the order of procession was there formed. First marched the beadle, with a whip in his hand, to clear the way; he was followed by three musicians, who played the Dalecarlian violin-a rude three-stringed instrument of their own manufacture; next came the bridegroom in his gayest attire, supported on either side by one of his nearest relatives, and the rudiman or soldier of the district; and after these eight or ten horsemen, followed by an equal number of bridesmaids clad in green petticoats, with a long jacket or vest; many rows of glass beads encircled their necks, and their fingers were adorned with a profusion of gilt rings, enriched with stones; their long tresses were fastened on the summit of their heads, whence hung an innumerable quantity of ribands of all colours, the inferior extremities of which were fringed with gold or silver. Last came the bride, conducted by her aunt, a young and beautiful woman; her robe was of black silk; her head surmounted by a coronet of gilt metal, adorned with trinkets; her hair in ringlets intermixed with ribands, floated on a neck of faultless symmetry, surrounded, as in the rest, with strings of glass beads, and other ornaments; gloves embroidered with extreme care, and a neckkerchief worked in the most fanciful manner, completed this singular but graceful costume. On arriving at the church, the priest gave them his benediction; and as soon as the ceremony was over, the whole cortége set out for

the house of the bride's father, where the wedding was to be kept. They were received at the door by the mother and the cook, the first of whom introduced the guests into the rooms prepared for their reception; while the second, laying hold of the bride, led her to the kitchen, where she made her taste all the dishes she had prepared. The bride was then placed at table between her husband and the parson, the rudiman being at one side opposite to the father. The table was covered with linen of remarkable fineness and whiteness; the knives and forks were of polished steel. Bunches of the most beautiful flowers covered the table; the floor was strewed with green branches of pine, birch, and wild flowers. The repast was abundant, though not elegant; and every one seemed happy and hungry. Just as the cloth was about being removed, the bride arose, and with her the rudiman. The musicians, who had played during the whole meal, placed themselves before them; and in this order the little procession moved round the table. The bride held a silver cup, which a domestic filled with brandy; this she presented to each guest in succession, who emptied it; whereupon the rudiman presented a plate, on which each person deposited his offering, or mentioned what he would give to assist the young people in commencing housekeeping. All these presents, according as they were made, were proclaimed by the rudiman, and followed by a flourish of music.

After this was all over, the tables were removed, and dancing commenced, the bride leading off a sort of slow waltz with the parson. The festivities generally lasted several days; on the last of which the kitchen-boy made his appearance with a sad air, holding in one hand an empty stew-pan, in the other the spigot drawn from the cask. At this very intelligible hint all the guests took their departure, and the wedding was at an end. Athenæum.

PIRATES OF THE MIDDLE AGES.

ABOUT the end of the 9th century, one of the sons of Rognwald, count of the Orcades, named Horolf, or Rolla, having infested the coasts of Norway with piratical descents, was at length defeated and banished by Harold, king of Denmark. He fled for safety to the Scandinavian island of Soderoe, where, finding many outlaws and discontented fugitives,

he addressed their passions, and succeeded in placing himself at their head. Instead of measuring his sword with his sovereign again, he adopted the wiser policy of imitating his countrymen, in making his fortune by plundering the more opulent places of southern Europe. The first attempt of this powerful gang was upon England, where, finding Alfred too powerful to be coped with, he stood over to the mouth of the Seine, and availed himself of the state to which France was reduced. Horolf, however, did not limit his ambition to the acquisition of booty; he wished permanently to enjoy some of the fine countries he was ravaging, and after many treaties made and broken, he received the duchy of Normandy from the hands of Charles the Simple, as a fief, together with Gisla, the daughter of the French monarch, in marriage. Thus did a mere pirate found the family which in a few years gave sovereigns to England, Naples, and Sicily, and spread the fame of their talents and prowess throughout the world.

Nor was Europe open to the depredations of the northern pirates only. Some Asiatic moslems, having seized on Syria, immediately invaded Africa, and their subsequent conquests in Spain facilitated their irruption into France, where they pillaged the devoted country, with but few substantial checks. Masters of all the islands in the Mediterranean, their corsairs insulted the coasts of Italy, and even threatened the destruction of the Eastern empire. While Alexis was occupied in a war with Patzinaces, on the banks of the Danube, Zachas, a Saracen pirate, scoured the Archipelago, having, with the assistance of an able Smyrniote, constructed a flotilla of forty brigantines, and some light fast-rowing boats, manned by adventurers like himself. After taking several of the surrounding islands, he established himself sovereign of Smyrna, that place being about the centre of his newly-acquired dominions. Here his fortunes prospered for a time, and Soliman, sultan of Nicea, son of the great Soliman, sought his alliance, and married his daughter, about A. D. 1093. But in the following year, young Soliman being persuaded that his father-in-law had an eye to his possessions, with his own hand stabbed Zachas to the heart. The success of this freebooter shews that the Eastern emperors could no longer protect, or even assist, their islands.

Maritime pursuits had now revived, the improvement of nautical science was progressing rapidly, and the advantages

of predatory expeditions, especially when assisted and masked by commerce, led people of family and acquirements to embrace the profession. The foremost of these were the Venetians and Genoese, among whom the private adventurers, stimulated by an enterprising spirit, fitted out armaments, and volunteered themselves into the service of those nations who thought proper to retain them; or they engaged in such schemes of plunder as were likely to repay their pains and expense. About the same time, the Roxolani or Russians became known in history, making their début in the character of pirates, ravenous for booty, and hungry for the pillage of Constantinople -a longing which 900 years have not yet satisfied. Pouring hundreds of boats down the Borysthenes, the Russian marauders made four desperate attempts to plunder the city of the Cæsars, in less than two centuries, and appear only to have been repulsed by the dreadful effects of the celebrated Greek fire.

England, in the mean time, had little to do with piracy, nor had she any thing worthy the name of a navy; yet Cœur de Lion had given maritime laws to Europe; her seamen, in point of skill, were esteemed superior to their contemporaries; and King John enacted, that those foreign ships which refused to lower their flags to that of Britain should, if taken, be deemed lawful prizes. Under Henry III., though Hugh de Burgh, the governor of Dover Castle, had defeated a French fleet, by casting lime into the eyes of his antagonists, the naval force was impaired to such a degree, that the Normans and Bretons were too powerful for the Cinque Ports, and compelled them to seek relief from the other ports of the kingdom. The taste for depredation had become so general and contagious, that privateers were now allowed to be fitted out, which equipments quickly degenerated to the most cruel of pirates. Nay more; on the disputes which took place between Henry and his Barons, in 1244, the Cinque Ports, who had shewn much indifference to the royal requisitions, openly espoused the cause of the revolted nobles; and, under the orders of Simon de Montfort, burnt Portsmouth. From this, forgetful of their motives for arming, they proceeded to commit various acts of piracy, and considering nothing but their private interests, extended their violence not only against the shipping of all countries unfortunate enough to fall in their way, but even to perpetrate the

most unwarrantable ravages on the property of their own countrymen. Nor was this confined to the Cinque Port vessels only; the example and the profits were too stimulating to the restless; and one daring association on the coast of Lincolnshire seized the Isle of Ely and made it their receptacle for the plunder of all the adjacent countries. One William Marshall fortified the little island of Lundy, in the mouth of the Severn, and did so much mischief by his piracies, that at length it became necessary to fit out a squadron to reduce him, which was accordingly done, and he was executed in London; yet the example did not deter other persons from similar practices. The sovereign, however, did not possess sufficient naval means to suppress the enormities of the great predatory squadrons, and their ravages continued to disgrace the English name for upwards of twenty years, when the valour and conciliation of the gallant Prince Edward brought them to that submission which his royal parent had failed in procuring. United Service Journal.

MISCELLANIES.

MOSES OUTWITTED.

Two or three years ago some young men, in a public office, were conversing on the cunning of the tribe of Israel, when one of them made a bet that he would succeed in cheating an old clothesman. The possibility of this was denied, and the bet was taken. A pair of small clothes, worn quite threadbare, were exhibited to Moses, and two shillings and sixpence were demanded for them. The Israelite turned them over and over, and, as is usual with his caste, began to find fault with their condition, which was deplorable. But the seller had inserted a child's leaden toy watch into the fob, and the Jew, as he turned over the inexpressibles, clutched this lure two or three times, as if to make sure of the prize; he had probably sometimes found articles of value in the pockets of leftoff garments which had come into his hands.

After much haggling, sixpence was abated from the sum at first demanded, and Moses walked off with his prize, rejoicing at his good luck. Scarcely had he turned the corner of the street, when he determined to see if fortune had favoured him with a gold or silver watch, and lo! he drew forth the leaden lure. The Israelite ran back to the clerks to demand restitution of his money,

forgetting in his rage that he had been the victim of his own duplicity, but was saluted with roars of laughter. B.Q.T.

THE KENTUCKIAN IN COMPANY.

"WERE you never in the company of fine ladies?" asked Chevillere.

"Yes! and flummock me if ever I want to be so fixed again; for there I sat with my feet drawn straight under my knees, heads up, and hands laid close along my legs, like a new recruit on drill, or a horse in the stocks; and, twist me, if I didn't feel as if I was about to be nicked. The whole company stared at me as if I had come without an invite; and I swear I thought my arms had grown a foot longer, for I couldn't get my hands in no sort of a comfortable fix -first I tried them on my lap; there they looked like goin to prayers, or as if I was tied in that way; then I slung 'em down by my side, and they looked like two weights to a clock; and then I wanted to cross my legs, and I tried that, but my leg stuck out like a pump handle; then my head stuck up through a glazed shirt-collar, like a pig in a yoke; then I wanted to spit, but the floor looked so fine, that I would as soon have thought of spittin' on the window; and then to fix me out and out, they asked us all to sit down to dinner! Well, things went on smooth enough for a while, till we had got through one whet at it. Then an imp of a nigger came to me first with a waiter of little bowls full of something, and a parcel of towels slung over his arm; so I clapped one of the bowls to my head, and drank it down at a swallow. Now, stranger, what do you think was in it!"

"Punch, I suppose," said Lamar, laughing; "or perhaps apple toddy."

"So I thought, and so would anybody, as dry as I was, and that wanted something to wash down the fainty stuffs I had been layin in! but no! it was warm water! Yes! you may laugh! but it was clean warm water. The others dipped their fingers into the bowls, and wiped them on the towels as well as they could for gigglin; but it was all the fault of that pampered nigger, in bringin it to me first. As soon as I catched his eye, I gin him a wink, as much as to let him know that if ever I caught him on my trail, I would wipe him down with a hickory towel."--Kentuckian in New York.

THEBAN MONUMENT.

THERE has been lately discovered, on the ground where the battle of Cheronea was fought, the colossal lion, which the

Thebans erected on the spot in memory of their fellow-citizens who died in defence of their country. This monument will, it is said, be restored. Several other relics of antiquity have been found at Zea, Kydnos, and Denos, and deposited in the museum in Greece. Among the objects found at Zea, is a bust with this inscription :-" Epithalamium of Sophocles the Heraclian."

ROME.

MODERN Rome is itself almost as much a ruin and a desert as the Old. Scarce a palace remains inhabited, except by some such miser as Barberini, who lives on the fees which his servants extract from foreigners, and who, to my own knowledge, derives a pretty annuity from the emissary of the Alban lake, which the curiosity and liberality of visitors enable him to let at a rent not inferior to what he receives from some palaces not rendered thus lucrative : — what would Burke say to association considered as a source of gain, as well as of the sublime? The Borghese villa so lately fitted up, is already a ruin; the walls are bare, the pedestals whence the Gladiator and the Hermaphrodite were torn, are still there, but empty: the pictures have vanished from the walls, save those which our countryman Gawan Hamilton executed in fresco; and except some sleek statues of Bernini, more remarkable for the beauty of their polish than of their sculpture, the arts have no offerings left in so famed a temple. Buonaparte, unwilling to rob his brother-inlaw without at least some pretence of purchase, made the offer to Borghese. The prince ordered Canova tó value the collection. Canova, more artist than broker, said the Gladiator was inestimable, that he himself considered it the first statue in the world; but at a round estimate he thought the statues worth two millions of francs. Buonaparte, with the politeness that sometimes characterized him, put his imperial tongue in his imperial cheek, ordered the Gladiator and suite to the Musée Royale, and gave an order on his archi-tresorier for two thousand francs. The Bourbons, however, have, since the restoration, kept the collection, by satisfying the very moderate demands of the needy Borghese. At the same time the pictures paid a visit to Paris, and were hung up in the Borghese Hotel, Rue Faub. St. Honoré, now the mansion of our ambassador; but they have all long since returned to their more classic home on the Ripetta.