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every thing wrong or unseemly, with whatever betrays or fosters the mind of flesh, the pre"dominence of the animal within us, by having habitually present to the mind, the full and lively conviction of its perfect compatibility "with whatever is innocent of its harmony, with "whatever contra-distinguishes the HUMAN from "the animal; of its sympathy and coalescence "with the cultivation of the faculties, affections, "and fruitions, which God hath made peculiar to man, either wholly or in their ordained combi"nation with what is peculiar to humanity, the blurred, but not obliterated signatures of our original title deed, (and God said, man will we "make in our own image.) What?-shall Chris tianity exclude or alienate us from those powers, acquisitions, and attainments, which Christianity is so pre-eminently calculated to elevate and enliven and sanctify?

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Far, very far, am I from suspecting in you, my dear sir, any participation in these prejudices of a shrivelled proselyting and censorious religionist. But a numerous and stirring fac“tion there is, in the so called Religious Public, "whose actual and actuating principles, with

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whatever vehemence they may disclaim it in words, is, that redemption is a something not yet effected that there is neither sense nor "force in our baptism-and that instead of the Apostolic command, Rejoice, and again I say

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ing, ten minutes before the lecture, and my spirits were so sadly depressed by the circum"stance of my hoarseness, that I was literally incapable of reading it. I now express my acknowledgments, and with them the regret that I had not received the detter in time to "have availed myself of it.

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"When I was young I used to laugh at flattery, as, on account of its absurdity, I now 'abhor it, from my repeated observations of its "mischievous effects. Amongst these, not the least is, that it renders honourable natures

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more slow and reluctant in expressing their "real feelings in praise of the deserving, than, for the interests of truth and virtue, might be

desired. For the weakness of our moral and "intellectual being, of which the comparatively strongest are often the most, and the most painfully, conscious, needs the confirmation derived from the coincidence and sympathy of "the friend, as much as the voice of honour "within us denounces the pretences of the flat"terer. Be assured, then, that I write as I think, "when I tell you that, from the style and thoughts "of your letter, I should have drawn a very dif"ferent conclusion from that which you appear "to have done, concerning both your talents and "the cultivation which they have received. Both "the matter and manner are manly, simple, and

"correct.

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Had I the time in my own power, compatibly with the performance of duties of immediate urgency, I would endeavour to give you, by letter, the most satisfactory answer to your questions that my reflections and the expe"rience of my own fortunes could supply. But, " at all events, I will not omit to avail myself of your judicious suggestion in my last lecture, in which it will form a consistent part of the sub'ject and purpose of the discourse. Meantime, "believe me, with great respect,

"Your obliged fellow-student

"of the true and the beseeming

"S. T. COLERIDGE."

66 DEAR SIR,

Sept. 20th, 1818.

Those who have hitherto chosen to take notice of me, as known to them only by my public character, have for the greater part taken out, not, indeed, a poetical, but a critical, license "to make game of me, instead of sending game "To me. Thank heaven! I am in this respect "more tough than tender. But, to be serious, I heartily thank you for your polite remembrance; and, though my feeble health and "valetudinarian stomach force me to attach no "little value to the present itself, I feel still more obliged by the kindness that prompted it.

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"I trust that you will not come within the purlieus of Highgate without giving me the opportunity of assuring you personally that I "am, with sincere respect,

"Your obliged,

"S. T. COLeridge."

Following the chronological order I proposed, I am led to speak again of Lamb, who having at this time collected many little poems and essays, scattered in different publications, he reprinted and published them in two small volumes, which he dedicated to Coleridge; and those of my readers who have not seen this work will, doubtless, find it interesting. The simplicity of this dedication, and above all the biographical portion of it, seem to render it appropriate to this work, and it is therefore subjoined.

TO S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq.

MY DEAR COLERIDGE,

You will smile to see the slender labors of your friend designated by the title of Works; but such was the wish of the gentlemen who have kindly undertaken the trouble of collecting them, and from their judgment could be no appeal.

It would be a kind of disloyalty to offer to any

one but yourself, a volume containing the early pieces which were first published among your poems, and were fairly derivatives from you and them. My friend Lloyd and myself came into our first battle (authorship is a sort of warfare) under cover of the greater Ajax. How this association, which shall always be a dear and proud recollection to me, came to be broken,— who snapped the three-fold cord,-whether yourself (but I know that was not the case,) grew ashamed of your former companions, or whether (which is by much the more probable) some ungracious bookseller was author of the separation, I cannot tell ;-but wanting the support of your friendly elm, (I speak for myself,) my vine has, since that time, put forth few or no fruits; the sap (if ever it had any) has become in a manner dried up and extinct: and you will find your old associate in his second volume, dwindled into prose and criticism. Am I right in assuming this as the cause? or is it that, as years come upon us, (except with some more healthy-happy spirits,) life itself loses much of its poetry for us? we transcribe but what we read in the great volume of Nature: and, as the characters grow dim, we turn off and look another way. You, yourself, write no Christabels, nor Ancient Marriners, now. Some of the Sonnets, which shall be carelessly turned over by the general reader, may happily awaken in you remembrances,