cient
Mariner_ and Wordsworth's _We are Seven_. About the same time
Coleridge wrote the first part of _Christabel_, the ode _France_,
_Kubla Khan_, and a few other well-known poems. The impression which
he made at this period of his life upon Dorothy Wordsworth, the poet's
sister, was recorded by her in a letter. She says of him: "He is a
wonderful man. His conversation teems with soul and mind. . . . His
eye is large and full, and not very dark but gray, such an eye as would
receive from a heavy soul the dullest expression; but it speaks every
emotion of his animated mind; it has more of the poet's eye in a fine
frenzy rolling than I ever witnessed. He has fine dark eyebrows and an
overhanging forehead."

Of Coleridge as poet there is unfortunately little more to relate, for
during the remainder of his life he devoted himself mainly to
philosophy and literary criticism, with occasional work in journalism.
After a stay in Germany he brought back to England a knowledge of
German metaphysics and an enthusiasm for German literature which
enabled him to do much towards awakening in his own countrymen an
interest in these subjects. He had never been strong, and from the age
of thirty-four he suffered seriously from ill-health and from his
practice of using opium--a habit begun by his taking the dangerous drug
to relieve acute pain. No doubt his powers were impaired by these
causes. In 1804, hoping to benefit by change of climate, he went to
Malta, and before his return spent some months in Italy. With the
exception of a short tour on the Rhine with the Wordsworths, the last
sixteen years of his life were passed quietly at Highgate, a village
near London, where through the kind care of friends he was enabled to
control the opium habit and do a fair amount of intellectual work. His
mind dwelt much on religious subjects, and the faith which had earlier
found expression in his noble _Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni_ brought
light and consolation as the end drew near. Many young men came to see
him during these last years, drawn by his fame as a poet and still more
by his remarkable powers as a talker. One of them has said of him in
this connection: "Throughout a long summer's day would this man talk to
you in low, equable, but clear and musical tones, concerning things
human and divine." And the same person has described a day spent with
him as "a Sabbath past expression, deep, tranquil, and serene." The
poet died a