hteenth, Seventeen Hundred Eighty-two. This was a year memorable in the
history of America; and the alertness of the charity boy's intellect is
shown in that he was aware of the struggle between England and the
Colonies. He discussed the situation with his schoolfellows, and explained
that the mother country had made a mistake in exacting too much. His
sympathies were with the Colonies, but he thought submission on their part
was in order when the stamp-tax was removed and that complete independence
was absurd--the Colonies needed some one to protect them.

Such reasoning in a boy of ten years seems strange, especially in view of
the fact that a noted professor of pedagogy has recently explained to us
that no child under fourteen is capable of independent reasoning.

But it is quite certain that young Coleridge's opinions were not borrowed,
for all the lad's acquaintances, who thought of the matter at all,
considered the Americans simply "rebels" who merited death.

Coleridge remained at Christ's Hospital for eight years, and before he
left had easily taken his place as "Deputy Grecian." Charles Lamb has
given many delightful glimpses of that schoolboy life in the "Essays of
Elia."

Middleton, afterward Bishop of Calcutta, called the attention of Boyer,
the master, to Coleridge by saying, "There is a boy who reads Vergil for
amusement!" Boyer was a strict disciplinarian, but he was ever on the
lookout for a lad who loved books--the average youth getting out of all
the study he could.

The master began to encourage young Coleridge, and Coleridge responded. He
wrote verses and essays, and was a prodigy in memorizing. According to
Boyer's idea, and it was the prevailing idea everywhere then, and is yet
in some sections, memorization was the one thing desirable. If the subject
were Plato, and the master had forgotten his book, he called on Coleridge
to recite. And the tall, fair-haired boy, with the big dreamy eyes, would
rise and give page after page, "verbatim et literatim."

* * * * *

Before Coleridge went to Cambridge, when nineteen years old he had taken
on that masterly quality in conversation that made his society sought,
even to the last. Lamb has told us of the gentle voice, not loud nor deep,
but full of mellow intonations, and bell-like in its purity.

Such a voice, laden with fine feeling, carrying conviction, only goes with
a great soul. No doubt, though, the young man had