In Theology, this month has not been so prolific as the last; its principal curiosity, if it can be classed properly under the head, is the Lay Sermon of Mr. Coleridge, addressed to the higher classes. Should the latter ever be induced to honour it with more attention than sermons in general obtain from them, it is to be feared they will split upon another rock—that of never being able to understand it. Mr. Coleridge ought, by this time, to know that the high, as well as low, mob comprehend only what is exceedingly clear. It seems he is about to address other sermons to the middle and lower ranks; but, if not more translucent, as he would say himself, the whole of these edifying compositions may as well be transmitted to the capitol of the Tower, and there be preserved to puzzle posterity, like the Sybil’s leaves.