of Berkeley; whilst he sparingly extolled Hartley; and was almost silent
respecting Mr. Bowles. I noticed a marked change in his commendation of
Mr. B. from the time he paid that man of genius a visit. Whether their
canons of criticisms were different, or that the personal enthusiasm was
not mutual; or whether there was a diversity in political views; whatever
the cause was, an altered feeling toward that gentleman was manifested
after his visit, not so much expressed by words, as by his subdued tone
of applause.

The reflux of the tide had not yet commenced, and Pantisocracy was still
Mr. Coleridge's favourite theme of discourse, and the banks of the
Susquehannah the only refuge for permanent repose. It will excite great
surprise in the reader to understand that Mr. C.'s cooler friends could
not ascertain that he had received any specific information respecting
this notable river. "It was a grand river;" but there were many other
grand and noble rivers in America; (the Land of Rivers!) and the
preference given to the Susquehannah, seemed almost to arise solely from
its imposing name, which, if not classical, was at least poetical; and it
probably by mere accident became the centre of all his pleasurable
associations. Had this same river been called the Miramichi or the
Irrawaddy, it would have been despoiled of half its charms, and have sunk
down into a vulgar stream, the atmosphere of which might have suited well
enough Russian boors, but which would have been pestiferous to men of
letters.

The strong hold which the Susquehannah had taken on Mr. Coleridge's
imagination may be estimated by the following lines, in his Monody on
Chatterton.

"O, Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive;