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You thought you had only a cargo to run,
But you're sure of a passenger, sure as a gun!"

What more passed of fear and awe,
Ear never heard, eye never saw;

For was bid "make himself scarce" at once,
Which any would do, who was not a dunce,
When twirled round twice as swift as the wind,

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But three weeks had gone over, and then came the wind,

And dismissed up the stairs with a slight kick be- Which perhaps, you'll remember, we left far be


Three weeks had passed and the wind was fair,
And they drew towards port, no matter where,
To tell of that is not my care:-
But stay-methinks a voice I hear,
So sweet, the saddest it might cheer,

Or pierce a deaf man's drowsy ear,
Or to the flintiest bosom strike,

Ask, "Pray what was the stranger like?"
I stay the tale, as by a spell,

All that that sweet voice asks to tell.

His limbs were lithe, his face was dark,
His eyes were each a fiery spark,
The lines upon his cheek and brow
Told of the soul that worked below,
Yet not the plough of lofty thought
Had broadly on that forehead wrought;
The cunning wrinkles seemed to fret
His face, as with a curious net;

The pushed-up mouth was ever screwed
To some satiric attitude;

The wiry limbs sprang quick and light,
But not as where the mind of might
In free proud movement is betrayed-
Here trick and antic were displayed:
That dark small stranger well might be
The demon of activity.

Yet, be what he might, or do what he would,
The crew and the captain in awe of him stood.
And the feats they performed, ere they looked on
the shore,

Sure never were seen in the "Goed Vrouw" be

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For all the long preface that here I've been spinning,

Has only just carried us to the beginning,
So snuff we the candles, and hear of the man,
The wonderful stranger, and wonderful Jan.


There are folks in this world, who, when fortune is busily

Doing her worst, will take every thing easily;
Nothing disturbs them, and nothing alarms them,
And seldom it happens that any thing harms them;
Yet strange-though it seems, as one genius pre-

Above the whole clan, they are really divided
By public opinion in two distinct classes,
One, "philosophers" called, and the other styled


Let a man see his nearest relation a dying,
Without any sighing, or sobbing, or crying;
Let him hear of banks breaking wherein he has


And take the news smoothly as if it were honey, And crying, "all's right,"-benignantly quarter Himself for his life on son, brother, or daughter; And let this same man have a presence commanding,

A choice of good words, and a shrewd understanding,

And a good deal of what the enlightened call gammon ;"

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A dump to a guinea, a sprat to a salmon, That the world takes his part, and said world would be cross, if her

Protegé were not called an uncommon philosopher. But just change the person, and fancy the sinner, With no care for to-night, if to-day has a dinner; And eyes like a fish's, set round in their sockets; With a little squat figure, his hands in his pockets, A pipe in his mouth, from whence seldom he

takes it,

But asks for another as soon as he breaks it;
Fancy this man beset with a hundred disasters,
At sea in a gale,
Close-reefed every sail,

And all this, as it seemed that there was not a ques-And


At the dark little stranger's infernal suggestion.

Then Didrick Van Ranslear was docked of his

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A sadly sprung mast,
And a leak gaining fast,

the sailors with broken heads, plentier than

And a little strange imp, here and there, every where,

Setting all by the ears,

And fomenting their fears,

And driving the crew to a state of despair.

For swearing that "Poland was somewhere in Cra-Yet fancy our worthy still smoking as coolly,

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Surely if the wise world could but then overhaul | Would dare at that moment with aught to present him,

"Fool," "dotard," and "booby," 'twould certainly call him ;

Although the same principle's brought into use
By the sage it approves, and Mynheer Vander-



And whate'er he was doing they could not prevent

Fast, fast, fast on the tottering mast
Falls blow after blow, with a power too vast,
(As was after remembered) without some strange

When the gale first arose he just broached these To belong to a man with so slender an arm;


"It would not be much,

"It was only a touch,"

And retreated again to his lower dominions,
Where having procured

A fresh pipe from the steward,

His case-bottle of rum,
'Twixt his finger and thumb,

He grasped by the neck; though the action was dumb,

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Twas highly expressive of what he intended-
To stick by the stuff" till the tempest was

No matter what messages came from above,
Of changing his quarters, he did not approve.
Perplexed and fatigued, and half frantic, the men
Sent Jan to the cabin, again and again;
Once to ask "where they were,' off what coast,
and what part:

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Quoth he, "Jan, I believe you can read,-there's the chart."

Then to tell him "the mainmast was sprung;”— he groaned "humph;"

Then, the water had gained in the hold;"-he whiffed "pump".

And when Jan appeared in his presence once more,
With that by the same token,
The rudder was broken,"

The only reply that he got was a snore.
What's to be done?

The billows run

Now hiding the disc of the setting sun;
Now dropping them down in some awful chasm,
Thrilling each heart with fear's wild spasm:
And the timbers creak, and groan and shriek,
And the ship runs wild in her frenzied freak,
As hard to guide as if her name
Had put the spirit in her frame,

Of some "Goed Vrouw" of Amsterdam!
Now she leaps up, and madly rears
Her form on high-now disappears;
Now plunges on-and then again,
Lies helpless, sidelong on the main.-
Yet never the little fat captain awoke,

And his little fat crew

Know not what they must do,

For they see that the thing is no longer a joke;
And Jan the tall, looks grim and serious,
And the dark stranger more mysterious.

An eldritch shriek and a fearful bound,
A lumbering plunge and a cracking sound,
And broken spars around are poured,
The mainmast's going overboard!
Back fall the crew from the fatal spot,

All but Peter Van Schriegel, who drops "like shot,"

And when the yards on deck are dashed,
Is like a monstrous spider, smashed,
But this was no moment to pause and lament him,
When the stranger upsprung from the midst of the

And, looking of cheerful contentment the image,
Politely requested an axe might be lent him!
"Twas handed by Jan,

For no other man

And when his behavior was after dissected,
By those who survived, it was well recollected
That the hatchet he used seemed the mast to en-

With sparks showered thickly, and glowed like hot iron;

But be this as it may, the first danger was past, And the vessel relieved staggered onward unknowClean over the side went spars, rigging, and mast, ing,

Either what she was doing, or where she was going.

But cool as a cucumber, calm as a monk,

The stranger once more bids Jan "bring him his trunk,"

'Tis drawn from the place where it first was deposited

That eve that the captain and stranger were closeted,

And being heaved up to the deck, which was bared
So completely, not even a hen-coop was spared,
The little dark stranger sate quietly down,
Like a monarch enthroned and expecting his crown,
And remarking-"The deck seemed well cleared
Regarded the whole with a calm satisfaction;
for an action,"
Others were tumbling, and slipping, and sliding,
He sitting as firmly as if they were gliding
On a steam-boat excursion, with patent machinery,
And quite at their leisure enjoying the scenery.
They could bear it no longer! that terrible man,
And his sworn coadjutor, that lean long-legged


So whilst a deep reverie he seemed to be wrapt in, They stole to the cabin to waken the captain.

Surely he sleeps a charmed sleep!

Or why such even pulses keep,

When even the dead might well awake,
When life, fame, fortune are at stake!
Wake, shipwrecked wretch! awake and weep!
Let dreams no more thy senses steep!-
Surely he sleeps a charmed sleep!

Aroused by their fears to a strange animation,
And only regarding their chance of salvation,
Sans ceremonie by the collar they take him,
And lustily shake him determined to wake him;
And their shrieks in his ear become perfectly thril


As they see that already the cabin is filling:

A snort and a groan, and he opens his eyes,
And tries to look angry, then tries to look wise,
And they hear him exclaim-" From the hour that
he came,

I gave up the command to Mynheer What's-his


And if he can't keep you and save you from evil,
I fear to his worship you have not been civil.
But stay, the night's cold, there's the key of the

(I never believed the Goed Vrouw' such a rocker!)

And don't spare the spirits, for even if you do,
I fear there are spirits will scarcely spare you!"'

Swift from his presence forth they past-
It was a speech
Impressed on each,

For 'twas his longest and his last!

What followed! a scene of such noise and confu


Its memory must seem like a fiendish delusion;
I have separately asked them about that wild

But hardly two stories agree with each other:
Some vow that the stranger and JAN both together
Sang a duo in praise of the airy fine weather;
Others say that they danced on the corpse of Van

In a manner indecent, profane, and illegal,
To music so strangely discordant and frantic
It seemed to be fitted to every wild antic-
But all have agreed the last thing they remember
Is a very rough shock,

On a very hard rock,

At half after twelve, on a night of December.

Morning hath come with her welcome light,
Shining on hills with the snow flake white,
And on the darkly heaving sea,
Where still the waves rage angrily;
And on a shore where, 'twixt the land
And sea, there spreads a ridge of sand,
And on eleven silent forms,

That her sweet light revives and warms,
For strange to say, of all the crew

Of the "Goed Vrouw," they miss but two,
Van Schriegel, and that white, and wan,
And tall, and thin, and wicked Jan,

The stranger and captain, of course, I except,
But neither of these could be bitterly wept.

High and dry,

On the beach they lie,

And lo! a vision is passing by

They must be deceived

It can scarce be believed

It might, but 'tis only a modest suggestion,
Have held pamphlets, perhaps on the "Boundary

Or some eloquent speech on "our foreign condi-
Or receipts of "expense of the Poor-law Commis-

sions ;"

All, and every of which, if the truth could be sifted,
Would account for its weight when it could not be

But still, I've no reason to give why it yielded,
And was light as a fly when by Jan it was wielded.
Apropos of that Jan, he's another queer mystery,
That puzzled me greatly on hearing this history;
I cannot account for his bond of connection
With the stranger, but hardly can think 'twas af-

In fact, these are riddles, and so insurmountable,
That we only can say they are quite unaccountable.

But touching the motto to which I alluded,
You shall have it without an opinion intruded,
If you find there a moral, pray keep it in view—

DEATH OF MDLLE. LENORMAND.-One of the most celebrated public characters of France during the last half-century-Malle. Lenormand, the fortune-teller-died in that city on Monday last, at the age of 72 years, leaving a fortune of 500,000f. She reckoned, it is said, among her clinetelle all the celebrated characters of the age-all the soldiers, gamblers, and other adventurers of both sexes, from the Emperors Napoleon and Alexander down

Even where a strange tale is most warmly received, to the cuntinière and kitchen-maid—all of whom

That the "Goed Vrouw

Is passing now,

Perfect and whole from helm to prow!

Close to the shore,

On her course she bore,

And all her form they may explore,
Her masts in repair, her sails are there;

And her bulwarks are whole, and her deck no more

And more than all (at the sight they shrunk!)
The stranger is standing erect on his trunk,
And that singular Jan at the helm doth stand,
And nobody's there to give them a hand,

professed their surprise at the profundity of her knowledge of events, past and future.

TEA AS A NUTRIMENT.-M. Peligot read a paper He states on the chemical combinations of tea that tea contains essential principles of nutrition, far exceeding in importance its stimulating properties, and shows that, as a stimulant, tea is in every One of respect a desirable article of habitual use.

his experiments on the nutritive qualities of tea as compared with those of soup, was by no means in favor of the latter. The most remarkable products

Though the captain sits silent and drooping his of tea are-1st, the tannin, or astringent property;


And his hands are prest
On his burly chest;

But that white, white face can be but of the dead!
And a black flag waves from the mast on high,
With a motto I'll tell you about by-and-by.
But first, let me say, to avoid disappointment,
It is not to put this strange story in joint meant;
I own, and it gives me a feeling of pain,
Like some 64
sprig," called to "order,"
And forced to "soft sawder,"
I am not at this moment "prepared to explain."
For example-I cannot account for the stranger's
Queer conduct in bringing the ship into dangers,
And having disgorged it of every plump elf,
Repairing, and taking it all to himself."
I cannot account for his not having sunk,
Nor know I the mystery attached to his trunk.

2nd, an essential oil to which it owes its aroma, and which has a great influence on its price in commerce; and 3rd, a substance rich in azote and crystallizable, called theine, which is also met with in coffee, and is frequently called cafeine. Independently of these three substances, there are eleven others of less importance, which enter more or less into the composition of tea of all the kinds imported into Europe. What was most essential, as regards the chemical and hygienic character of the plant, was to ascertain the exact proportion of the azoted principles which it contains. M. Peligot began by determining the total amount of azote in tea, and finished by finding that it was from 20 to per cent greater than in any other kind of vegetable. M. Peligot states that by reason of this quantity of azote, and the existence of caseine in the tea-leaf, it is a true aliment.-Athenæum.




From the Christian Observer.

could not refuse myself the gratification of seeing the name of that man amongst my poems without whose kindness they would probably have remained unpublished, and to whom I know myself greatly and variously obliged, as a poet, a man, and a Christian." We have thought this statement fair to "poor old gossipping Cottle;" whose "gossipping" cost him dear, not only in the chastisement administered to him by some of the reviewers for his disclosures respecting Coleridge; but in the harassing, and it is said £2000 law expenses and damages, inflicted upon him at the suit of Hannah More's discarded coachman, whom he had alluded to in his account of that lady's escape from Barley Wood.

SHORTLY after the death of the late S. T. Coleridge, Mr. Cottle, formerly a book seller at Bristol, and the publisher and proprietor of some of Coleridge's early works, as well as of those of Southey and Words worth, gave to the world two volumes of recollections of those eminent men, at that eventful period of their lives, when, in the exuberance of youth, talent, and spirits, they were planning vast designs, and laying the foundation of their future literary fame. Mr. Cottle's book gave much offence to the friends of Mr. Coleridge, who had seen fit, in his biographical account of himself, to omit all distinct reference to BrisThe volumes were, however, chiefly detol, the cradle of his literature, and for voted to rellections of Coleridge. Of many years his favorite abode, and to whose Sonthey, who was living when they were inhabitants he said, as late as 1814, "You published, less is said-and not any thing, took me up in younger life, and I could we presume, which the poet wished to supwish to live and die amongst you." The press even during his life-time, except as chief cause of the offence was Mr. Cottle's it might be too trifling for record; for Mr. fearful exposition of the melancholy con- Cottle speaks of Southey's having spent a sequences of Coleridge's indulgence in the few days on a visit with him not long beuse of opium; but as Coleridge had long fore the book was published, and of their broken himself of the destructive habit, uninterrupted friendship, so that we can and had expressly directed that his melan- hardly suppose he put in print what he choly case should be made public after his knew would give his friend offence. Howdeath, as a warning to others, there was not ever there is nothing that entails reproach any thing to reproach Mr. Cottle with in upon Southey's memory; for though, in his making known the facts, except as they early days, he and Coleridge were led astray were painful to surviving friends or rela- by the phantoms with which the French tives. There were, however, many allu- revolutionary school had dazzled Europe, sions in his book to unpleasant scenes, and romantically proposed founding what foolish schemes, early struggles, and friv- they called a "Pantisocracy" in America; olous circumstances, which the friends of yet both of them came to a better mind; Mr. Coleridge might think best forgotten; and their example and recantation in afterbesides which, the patronizing air with life are the more valuable because they which the worthy bibliopolist speaks of were not the result of early prejudices, but his private intercourse and commercial ar- of mature deliberation. If Southey wrote rangements with men who lived to com- Joan of Arc, let it not be overlooked that he mand the golden market of literature, as afterwards repudiated it, and endeavored lewell as merely to revel in its barren honors, gally to suppress it. If Coleridge was once a might not be gratifying to the parties con- Socinian lecturer, let it not be forgotten that cerned. His opinions and criticisms, and he became not only orthodox, but a lay his "Mr. Southey and I," "Mr. Coleridge" preacher of righteousness." Who can and myself," &c., have an air of self-com- have forgotten his dying letter to his godplacency as between a provincial bookseller child, in which he says— and men who arrived at such pre-eminent fame; but fifty years ago they were all young together; and Cottle was often use ful to them with his literary advice, as well as his purse; and he was himself also the author of several volumes of poetry, which his highly gifted friends spoke of with warm approbation. Coleridge, in the sec ond edition of his poems, addressed to Cot tle, a flattering copy of verses, adding: "I


"And I thus, on the brink of the grave, solemnly bear witness to you, that the Almighty Redemer, most gracious in his promises to them that truly seek him, is faithful to perform what he has promised; and has reserved, under all pains and infirmities, the peace that passeth all understanding, with the supporting assurance of a reconciled God, who will not withdrew his Spirit from me in the conflict, and in his own time will deliver me from the evil one. O, my

dear godchild! eminently blessed are they who begin early to seek, fear, and love their God, trusting wholly in the righteousness and mediation of their Lord, Redeemer, Saviour, and everlasting High Priest, Jesus Christ."

Of Mr. Wordsworth there are a few curious literary notices in Mr. Cottle's recol lections, which we will copy; the personal allusions blended with them being to the honor, not disparagement, of that venerable man. The lovers of literary reminiscences may think the passages worth glancing over, though they are not intrinsically im

and omit utterly near one half of the present volume-a sacrifice to pitch black oblivion.

"Whichever be the case, I will repay you the money you have paid for me, in money, and in a few weeks; or if you should prefer the latter proposal, (i. e. the not sending me to the for ten weeks,) I should insist on considerpress ing the additions, however large, as my payment to you for the omissions, which, indeed, would be but strict justice.

"I am requested by Wordsworth, to put to you the following questions. What could you conveniently and prudently, and what would you, give for-first, our two Tragedies, with small prefaces, containing an analysis of our principal characters? Exclusive of the prefaces, the Tragedies are, together, five thousand lines; which, in printing, from the dialogue form, and directions respecting actors and scenery, "MY DEAR COTTLE,-I am sojourning, for a are at least equal to six thousand. To be delifew days, at Racedown, Dorset, the mansion of vered to you within a week of the date of your our friend Wordsworth: who presents his kind-answer to this letter; and the money which you est respects to you. * * *


"June, 1797.

"Wordsworth admires my tragedy, which gives me great hopes. Wordsworth has written a tragedy himself. I speak with heart-felt sincerity, and, I think, unblinded judgment, when I tell you, that I feel myself a little man by his side, and yet I do not think myself a less man than I formerly thought myself. His drama is absolutely wonderful. You know I do not commonly speak in such abrupt and unmingled phrases, and therefore will the more readily believe me. There are in the piece, those profound touches of the human heart, which I find three or four times in the Robbers' of Schiller, and often in Shakspeare, but in Wordsworth there are no inequalities. God bless you, and eke, 'S. T. COLERIDGE.'"

"There is a peculiar pleasure in recording the favorable sentiments which one Poet entertains of another, I therefore state that Mr. Coleridge says, in a letter received from him, March 8th, 1793,The Giant Wordsworth-God love him! When I speak in the terms of admiration due to his intellect, I fear lest these terms should keep out of sight the amiableness of his manners. He has written near twelve hundred lines of blank verse, superior, I hesitate not to aver, to any thing in our language which any way

resembles it.'

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"MY DEAR COTTLE,-I regret that aught should have disturbed our tranquillity; respect ing Lloyd, I am willing to believe myself in part mistaken, and so let all things be as before. I have no wish respecting these poems, either for or against re-publication with mine. As to the third edition, if there be occasion for it imme. diately, it must be published with some altera tions, but no additions or omissions. But if there be no occasion for the volume to go to press for ten weeks, at the expiration of that time I would make it a volume worthy of me,

from the same date; none to be paid before, all offer, to be paid to us at the end of four months to be paid then.

"Second.-Wordsworth's 'Salisbury Plain,' and Tale of a Woman: which two poems, with a few others, which he will add, and the notes, will make a volume. This to be delivered to you within three weeks of the date of your answer, and the money to be paid as before, at the end of four months from the present


self about the imagined great merit of the com"Do not, my dearest Cottle! harass yourpositions, or be reluctant to offer what you can prudently offer, from an idea that the poems are worth more. But calculate what you can do, with reference simply to yourself, and answer as speedily as you can; and believe me your sincere, grateful, and affectionate 'Friend and Brother,

'S. T. COLERIDGE.' "I offered Mr. Coleridge and Mr. Wordsworth thirty guineas each, as proposed, for their two Tragedies; but which, after some hesitation, was declined, from the hope of introducing one, or both, on the stage. The volume of Poems was left for some future arrangement."

"A visit to Mr. Coleridge at Stowey, (near Bristol.) had been the means of my introduction to Mr. Wordsworth, who read me many of his Lyrical pieces, when I perceived in them a pelish them, expressing a belief that they would culiar, but decided merit. I advised him to pub. he well received. I further said that he should be at no risk; that I would give him the same sum which I had given Mr. Coleridge and Mr. Southey, and that it would be a gratifying circumstance to me, to usher into the world, by becoming the publisher of the first volumes of three such poets as Southey, Coleridge, and Wordsworth; a distinction that might never again occur to a Provincial bookseller.

"To the idea of publishing he expressed a strong objection; and after several interviews, I left him, with an earnest wish that he would reconsider his determination.

"Soon after, Mr. Wordsworth sent me the following letter.

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