obe, wooded glen and tireless river. He differentiated.
He considered himself a man, an educated man, and therefore a little
better, and a little above, and a little outside of it all--otherwise how
could he have withered at the top at the early age of sixty-seven?

This question White Pigeon asked as we sat in the dim quiet of Crosthwaite
Church, down in the village. I did not attempt to reply--people do not ask
questions expecting, necessarily, to have them answered. We ask questions
in order to clarify our own minds.

The warning blast of the coach-horn was heard, and we went out into the
sunshine. I bade my three friends good-by (first placing my autograph on
Grace's and Myrtle's fans), and they climbed to the top of the coach. I
sat on the stone wall and watched them until they disappeared around the
bend of the road, waving handkerchiefs. That night I made my way over to
Penreith on the way to Carlisle. It had been a day brimming with thought
and feeling, and beauty expressed and unexpressed, and the kindness of
kind friends who understand. That night as I dozed off into deep, calm
sleep I said to myself: "They were great men, those Lake Poets, and the
world is better because they lived. But there will come other men and they
will be greater than those gone--the best is yet to be."

SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE

Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the
Thrones of Frost, this through the absence of objects to reflect
the rays.

What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own--we need another
to reflect our thoughts.
--_Samuel Taylor Coleridge_

[Illustration: SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE]

Samuel T. Coleridge was a thinker, and thinkers are so rarely found that
the world must take note of them. John Stuart Mill, writing in Eighteen
Hundred Forty, assigned first place among English philosophers to Jeremy
Bentham, incidentally mentioning that Samuel Taylor Coleridge was
Bentham's only rival.

In philosophy there is an apostolic succession. We build on the past, and
all the centuries of turmoil and travail which have gone before have made
this moment possible. There has never been any such thing as "the fall of
man"; for the march of the race has been a continual climb--a movement
onward and upward. Were it not for Coleridge and Bentham, we could not
have had Buckle, Wallace and Spencer, for the minds of men would not have
been prepared to give