the teinturier or gros gamet, the cornichon, the white griset, the morillon, the mornain, the muscat, the chasselas from Cyprus, the civatat, the Corinth grape, the Aleppo, the vionnier grown at Condrieu,* the gouais, the verjus, and others. An hundred and twenty species have been numbered in Andalusia and Grenada alone. The pineau grape produces the Burgundy and Champagne; of this there are eighteen varieties. Hermitage is grown from the Shiraz grape of Persia. The Côte rotie comes from the serine. In the South of Spain, the variety called Pedro Ximenes, is that from which the wines esteemed in England, are made. The French grape from near Orleans produces on the Rhine the best German wine. The grape is ripe about the end of September; the signs of its maturity are the colour of the skin, the brownness of the stems, and the transparency of the pellicle. The red grape is generally ripe before the white. Whitewine grapes are seldom picked from the clusters, for the astringency of the stems is supposed to be beneficial in enabling the wine to keep. The colouring matter is only in the skin; all pulps are alike.

We cannot enter at all into the process of making; it varies with every district. In Burgundy the must remains in the vat thirty-six hours, at Narbonne seventy days. In Germany they never use the stalks, in Portugal always. The casks are made of oak or beech; they go by different names in different parts of France. In Marne queue, in Cher tonneau, Loire poincon, La Vendée pipe, Lyons botte, Bordeaux barrique. When large they are called muid, when very large fondres. There is only one kind of wine made without treading or pressing; this is the 'Lagrima.' The grapes, melting with ripeness, are suspended in branches, and the wine is produced from the droppings. In this way the rich malaga is produced; and so was the Lacryma Christi. Cyprus winet is beaten with mallets on an inclined plane. In the South of France a strong spirituous wine is made called muet, that is never suffered to ferment at all. The French have wines they call domestic, never exported, and unknown here. They are boiled with brandy and aromatic seeds, and are very rich; they are common in Italy, Spain, and France. Corsica is famous for such wines, which in England (where people are very ignorant of wines), pass for Malaga, Cyprus, and Tinto. Boiling will give to new wine the maturity of age, and claret and port are often so treated. The vins de Liqueur, are Cyprus, Syracuse, Malaga, &c. where the saccharine principle has not entirely disappeared during the process of fermentation. The vins de Paille are so called, from the grapes being laid for several months on straw, before they go to the press. The vin Mousseux is well known, and wants no explanation. France possesses the greatest vegetable gifts that God has bestowed on man-corn, wine, and oil-she is emphatically the vineyard of the earth. From the Moselle and Champagne of the North, to the Lunel and Frontignac of the Southern provinces, about four millions of acres are in vineyard. The produce is valued at 22,516,2207. sterling, the total value exported about three millions. The French wine that keeps longest, is the Roussillon, which has been drank good above a cen

* We were present at a dinner the other day, when the company disputed about the meaning of the word serchal Madeira. Most persons considered it to be the name of the vineyard. Some said it meant searchall about, and you wont find its equal! The fact is, it is the name of the grape-Cerchal-or Serçal; which is also grown in Sicily.

The grape which gives the rich wines of Lunel and Frontignac, is asserted to have been imported into that country from the East during the crusades, out of Palestine, or Cyprus.

tury old. The duties are very heavy, amounting to more than 20 per cent. The octroi, on entering Paris, is 17s. 6d. the hectolitre, which is equal to the price of the wine itself. This is very destructive; for the wines of choicest quality, owing to these taxes, are found to pay the grower worst. Bourdeaux exports most, Marseilles about half as much, then Montpelier and Toulon. The exportation from Bourdeaux in 1827 was 54,492 pipes. About 20,000 tuns come to England. Wine at Paris is more than double the price of that at Bourdeaux. A hogshead of the best claret, made up for the English market, is 507., and the duty 167. more; the rest is the profit of our honest merchants at home, who make one cask into two, and then charge 807. a-piece.

It is impossible to trace the vineyards or qualities of the wines back to any remote period, though the vineyards of Autun were there in the time of the Romans. The aroma, the perfume, the delicacy of the modern wines, are supposed to have been unknown two centuries ago. The oldest vineyards are those of Champagne. The excellence of the wine was known so far back as 1328. Vinceslaus, King of Bohemia, came to France to negociate a treaty with Charles VI.; and arriving at Rheims, and having tasted the Champagne, he spun out his treaty as long as he could, and then gave up all that was required, in order to prolong his stay, and get drunk on Champagne every day before dinner. The banks of the Marne are most celebrated for this wine, in the arrondissements of Chalons, Rheims, Vitry, and Epernay. About 1,560,887 hectolitres are grown. The Vitry sells for twenty pence a bottle, and the Chalons for twelve. The red Champagne of Bouzy is the most cultivated, and the white of Sillery, which last is grown on the lands of Verzeuay and Mailly, of the blackest grape. The name of Sillery was given from the soil; and from a Marquis who improved it, it was called Vin de la Marechale it is chiefly monopolized by Paris and London. In all the distinguished vineyards of Champagne, they only cultivate the black grape, called the plant doré, being a variety of vine called pinet or pineau. In 1394, this was called Pinoz, and placed in an ordonnance of the Louvre above all the grapes. The price of vine-land varies exceedingly some will not bring more than 407. the acre; some rise to 5007., which has yielded 750 bottles the acre. The ptisannes de Champagne are those still wines put into bottles at ten or eleven months old; they are recommended by physicians, as aperient and wholesome. The grower sells the finest Champagne to the merchant at from two francs to three. The merchant sells to his DUPES† at from three francs to six; thus doubling the profit of the grower on the wine passing through his hands. Monsieur Moet, of Epernay, has from five to six hundred thousand bottles in his cellars in store. The cellars are cut out of the limestone rock, and are of immense extent. The rose coloured Champagnes are of the second quality: the colour is obtained sometimes from the grape, but generally from a little red wine, or a few drops of liquor made of elder berries. No one in France drinks rose-coloured Champagne who can get any other; but wines which would

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* The hectolitre is twenty-six English gallons; the litre a little more than a quart, All measures are resolved into litres and hectolitres.

The wine merchants are among the greatest rogues in England, and stand particularly in need of reform. Then come attornies, tailors, lords of the manor, millers, the fancy china and India warehouse men; picture-dealers, cleaners, &c. Jewellers are great knaves. Of mantua-makers we cannot speak, being of the male sex ; but we think their virtue suspicious, as well as that of sempstresses; brewers are rogues ingrain. The gin-distillers should be banished to a place, that we will not name to ears polite.

GENT. MAG. VOL. II.

C

please at Paris would not be drank at Frankfort. The red Champagnes are of another class, and very good, but little known in England; they chiefly go to Belgium. In wines the Dutch understand what they are about better than we do. We have no time to enter into this history of the wines of the second or inferior quality; therefore we shall end our account by recapitulating the finest wines, according to their excellence. 1. Sillery, most esteemed in foreign countries. 2. Ay, effervescing. 3. Mareuil. 4. Pierry, dry wine and keeps. 4. Dizy. 6. Epernay. The wines of Champagne are generally in perfection about three years after cellaring; but they do not lose in delicacy for ten or even twenty years, and are often found good at the age of thirty or forty. A great loss occurs to the Champagne merchants from breakage from the effervescence, by the expansion of carbonic acid gas: it generally happens in July or August; in ordinary cases, it amounts to four per cent., sometimes to forty or fifty. If the breakage does not amount to more than eight or ten per cent., the owner does not trouble himself; but of course he has the piles of wine taken down; the workmen are obliged to enter the cellars with wire-masks; the breakage ceases in September.

Of Burgundy, the wine district is situated under the 45th or 46th degrees of latitude, and is about 60 leagues long by 30 wide. The most celebrated district is the Côte d'Or, consisting of a chain of calcareous hills, extending from Dijon. The other two districts are those of the Saône and the Loire, and that of the Yonne. The total annual value of the Burgundy vineyards amounts to 52,139,495 francs. The vine districts are known by the name of Côte de Nuits, Côte de Beaune and Cote Chalonnaise. Burgundy is the most perfect of all known wines in the qualities deemed essential to vinous perfection. The grapes are the norieu, and the Pineau, and the chaudenay, for the white. The Romanée Conti is the most perfect and finest burgundy: it is produced in an inclosure of only two hectares in extent on a south-east aspect, the ground forming an angle of five degrees in slope. Inferior wines are owing chiefly to difference of site, and the unknown qualities of the soil, as the treatment is alike. The Richebourg contains about six hectares. The Clos Vougeot about forty-eight hectares; the famous St. George wine is grown near Nuits. The Beaune borders on Aloxe, and near it grows the Pomard and Volnay, a fine delicate wine with the taste of the raspberry. It is impossible to account for the cause of the superior excellence of small spots in vineyards over others, on the same soil, with the same aspects, climate, care, cultivation; yet so it is. The finest white Burgundy of the Cote d'Or is the Montrachet this brings 1,200 francs the queue. Most of the red Burgundies bring from 400 to 600 francs; but the proprietors of the Romanée Conti and Clos Vougeot never sell their wine in wood; they keep them for years, and then sell them only by auction, in particular bottles made on purpose, with their own seals; and the Romanée Conti will sell for seven francs a bottle from the proprietors' cellar; the Clos Vougeot at six francs. We cannot dwell on the secondary wines. The chief white wine of the Yonne is the Chablis. The wines of Tonnerre are inferior. The arrondissement of Macon furnishes the delicious white Pouilly, almost the rival of Champagne, Little Burgundy is exported, because, imprimis, as good a price can be obtained in France as elsewhere. Romanée Conti is grown on six acres of land only, La Tache on four. The Paris market will easily absorb this. Chambertin is very scarce out of France. Secondly, they do not bear carriage well the merchants will not keep them in a cellar subject even

to the vibration of the pavements, or any other movement. Thirdly, in England, the wiseacres who swallow fiery brandied Port, stained with logwood, think pure and delicate Burgundy unwholesome. The Burgundies of the finest class, rank thus:-1. Romanée Conti. 2. La Tache. 3. Chambertin. 4. Romanée St. Vivant. 5. Richebourg. 6. Nuits. 7. St. Georges. 8. Clos Vougeot. 9. Premaux. 10. Vosnes. 11. La Perriere. Of white, Mont Rachet, Goutte d'Or, and Genevrieres of Meursault. The longest duration of the finest Burgundies does not exceed twelve or fifteen years: after that time they decline: they attain their perfection from the second year. The system of making is not so perfect in Burgundy as in Champaigne.

The wines of the Rhone are in the department of the Drome. The vineyards of Valence are the most important. The wines of Tain are exclusively bought up for Bourdeaux. Of the Hermitage grown in Valence, the average is about 2700 hectolitres; it is grown on a hill with a south aspect near Tain-the soil granite, gravel, and sand. This is the richest coloured wine the French have, but it will not keep more than twenty years. In bottles, the best sells for about four francs less than our abominable Port. The white Hermitage is made of white grapes only. This is the finest white wine France produces. It will keep above a century : but its taste and perfume undergo a change: its taste is very peculiar ; to us it has a flavour as if cedar wood had been immersed in it. The Er mitage Paille is a rich sweet wine. Red Hermitage is produced from two plants called little and great segros; a tradition is current, that this grape was brought from Shiraz by one of the hermits of Bessas. White hermitage is produced from the Rousanne grape.

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(To be concluded in our next.)

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COLERIDGE'S POETICAL WORKS. VOL. I, II. PICKERING, 1834. "WHY is the harp of Quantock so long silent?" was the affectionate expostulation of one who remembered its early melodies, and who lamented that they were so prematurely suffered to expire. But why, being a poet, it may be asked, did not Mr. Coleridge delight continually in his high calling? Did he feel no pleasure in the exercise of his art?-how quenched he the fire of inspiration?-how sealed his prophetic lips? In short, why, being a son of Apollo, did he cease to sing? We do not know that we are authorised even to suppose the cause; but in our days at least, we think it as much as even men highly gifted can expect, if they are enabled to rise to eminence in any one accomplishment or art; and though the mind is enriched and supported by fullness and variety of attainment, yet undoubtedly there are some studies that exercise apparently no favourable influence on the cultivation of others. We suppose no great mathematician was ever a great poet. Now, it is perhaps possible, that Mr. Coleridge's profound investigations, various and splendid acquirements, remote speculations, recondite reasonings and disquisitions, may have carried his mind away from those trains of thoughts which poetry calls her own, and have given it other associations less favourable and native to it. Perhaps the reason is to be referred to other causes. To the engrossing nature of the important questions connected with the constitutional and religious welfare of the country. Something to the demands of society and distractions of conversation: something to the reluctance which all occasionally feel to write, when they can

indulge in the luxury of spreading the thoughts of others before them, and feeding at will on the fruits of their rich imaginations, and gazing on the magnificent creations of their genius: or lastly, perhaps, the public mind has been slow in appreciating the value of Mr. Coleridge's poems, has visited them with neglect, has met them with ridicule, and has found itself incapable of duly estimating their merit. We presume that this latter cause may not be without reason advanced by us. Mr. C. has profoundly studied the principles of poetry; he has rigidly adhered to those principles in the execution of his art, and he has left to the public the free choice of approbation or neglect. He has not, as other poets have done, supplicated their favour, followed their direction, bowed to their caprices, and pandered to their desires. Mr. Coleridge has studied, till study has led to well-grounded love and highest admiration, the elder poets of his country he has recognized the justness of their views, the excellence of their execution; and he has been aware upon what deep and extensive basis they erected the imperishable edifice of their art. But in the meanwhile the public taste had followed far behind him; it had gradually been vitiated and impaired; it had lost its healthy desires and appetites; and became insatiably craving after a different kind of food. There was no lack of supply, when such was the demand; and its pampered gluttony was for ever seeking after new provocations. This has been the case with the poetic taste of the country for many years; and this at once accounts for the long neglect of those who were patiently working on the solid and assured principles of nature and truth, while others, more highly favoured, were throwing off their glittering corruscations before admiring crowds, and supplying with eager rapidity every vicious demand as it arose. Now the effect of all this has been to bring the public mind to a poetical taste and feeling which is decidedly incorrect, and opposed to the best models, ancient or modern, and to the most established rules and precedents. All the different and distinct provinces of poetry have been confounded, which had been so carefully, jealously, and properly guarded and separated. The deepest tragic passions, the most violent emotions, the most terrific inflictions, the most awful catastrophes, peculiar to that domain over which Melpomene presided, have been transplanted into those provinces which had been previously held sacred to feelings of a softer nature, more flexible, more various, more closely associated with the ordinary habits of life, with our habitual trains of thought, and with the associations and impressions which are moderated and subdued, and mingled, when the mind is in a state of health natural to it. Inordinate passion, fierce, uncontrollable resolves, inexorable destinies, and heart-rending catastrophes, have swept away before them every gentler feeling, every diversified incident, every mingled motive, every calmer desire; and all that constitutes the general character, that forms the common nature, and that makes the mingled yarn of which the life of man is woven. From this class of poets, from their erroneous views, and strange creations, and perishable theories, we turn with pleasure to the pruductions of Mr. Coleridge's muse. There we meet with natural thoughts clothed in becoming and appropriate language, with fine picturesque imagery, rich fancies, and delicate modulation of language. While we candidly and unreservedly assert, that we do not think Mr. Coleridge successful in the delineation of the higher passions of tragedy; and that there is in his dramatic productions too much pomp of language, and a want of clear, distinct, and forcible character in his persons; while even in some other of his Poems, we still think that the gracefulness of his step is