d when solicited for his opinions, he was
generally as reserved in his praise as he was gentle in his censures.
For some of his contemporaries he avowed the highest respect; but
Coleridge was the object of his deepest affection as a friend, and of
his veneration as a philosopher. Of the men who acted important parts in
the political drama of the last century, the homage of his highest
admiration was given to Burke, who, after Shakspeare and Bacon, he
thought the greatest being that Nature had ever created in the human
form.

The last few years of Mr. Wordsworth's life were saddened by
affliction. They who were admitted to the privilege of occasional
intercourse with the illustrious poet in his later days will long dwell
with deep and affectionate interest upon his earnest conversation while
he wandered through the shaded walks of the grounds which he loved so
well, and ever and anon paused to look down upon the gleaming lake as
its silver radiance was reflected through the trees which embosomed his
mountain home. Long will the accents of that "old man eloquent" linger
in their recollection, and their minds retain the impression of that
pensive and benevolent countenance. The generation of those who have
gazed upon his features will pass away and be forgotten. The marble,
like the features which it enshrines, will crumble into dust. _Ut vultus
hominum ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt, forma mentis
aeterna_; the attributes of his mighty intellect are stamped for ever
upon his works which will be transmitted to future ages as a portion of
their most precious inheritance.

* * * * *

No man is more enshrined in the heart of the French people than the poet
BERANGER. A few weeks since he went one evening with one of his nephews
to the _Clos des Lilas_, a garden in the students' quarter devoted to
dancing in the open air, intending to look for a few minutes upon a
scene he had not visited since his youth, and then withdraw. But he
found it impossible to remain unknown and unobserved. The announcement
of his presence ran through the garden in a moment. The dances stopped,
the music ceased, and the crowd thronged toward the point where the
still genial and lovely old man was standing. At once there rose from
all lips the cry of _Vive Beranger!_ which was quickly followed by that
of _Vive la Republique_. The poet, whose diffidence is excessive, could
not answer a word, but only smi