Mr. Croker is understood to contribute the St. Helena articles and the liberality, Mr. Canning the practical good sense, Mr. D'Israeli the good-nature, Mr. Jacob the modesty, Mr. Southey the consistency, and the Editor himself the chivalrous spirit and the attacks on Lady Morgan.

He recollected the year 1794, though Mr. Southey had forgotten it!

Mr. Southey, as we formerly remember to have seen him, had a hectic flush upon his cheek, a roving fire in his eye, a falcon glance, a look at once aspiring and dejectedit was the look that had been impressed upon his face by the events that marked the outset of his life, it was the dawn of Liberty that still tinged his cheek, a smile betwixt hope and sadness that still played upon his quivering lip.

Mr. Southey's mind is essentially sanguine, even to over-weeningness.

Mr. Southey has not fortitude of mind, has not patience to think that evil is inseparable from the nature of things.

The reason is, that not truth, but self-opinion is the ruling principle of Mr. Southey's mind.

We must say that "we relish Mr. Southey more in the Reformer" than in his lately acquired, but by no means natural or becoming character of poet-laureat and courtier.

Mr. Southey is not of the court, courtly.

Mr. Southey walks with his chin erect through the streets of London, and with an umbrella sticking out under his arm, in the finest weather.

Mr. Southey was not to try conclusions with Majestystill less on such an occasion.

They shew the singular state of over-excitement of Mr. Southey's mind, and the force of old habits of independent and unbridled thinking, which cannot be kept down even in addressing his Sovereign!

Look at Mr. Southey's larger poems, his Kehama, his Thalaba, his Madoc, his Roderic.

But in Mr. Southey it was a lamentable falling-off.

All that Mr. Southey is or that he does best, is independent, spontaneous, free as the vital air he drawswhen he affects the courtier or the sophist, he is obliged to put a constraint upon himself, to hold in his breath, he loses his genius, and offers a violence to his nature.

If we speak or have ever spoken of Mr. Southey with severity, it is with "the malice of old friends," for we count ourselves among his sincerest and heartiest well-wishers.

" Cottle, J., "Reminiscences of Coleridge and Southey.

Here he met Robert Southey of Balliol College.

The scheme was further elaborated at Bristol, where Coleridge, returning from a vacation tour in Wales, again met Southey, and at Bath, the home of Southey and of Southey's betrothed and her sister, Edith and Sarah Fricker"two sisters, milliners of Bath," as Byron contemptuously called them.

His love for Mary Evans was not dead, but he seems to have despaired of winning her and to have determined, by uniting himself domestically with Southey and his friends, to make retreat from their communistic scheme impossible.

In December he is again at Bristol, in lively correspondence with Southey about democracy, Pantisocracy, and poetry, but at the same time he addresses a last appeal to Miss Evans.

Her answer is kind, but final; that chapter is closed, and Coleridge writes to Southey that he will "do his duty," by which he means apparently that he will be faithful to Pantisocracy and marry Sarah Fricker.

Coleridge spent the summer of 1795 in Bristol in company with Southey, writing and lecturing.

The break with Southey was the natural result of attempting to force through a scheme impracticable in itself and doubly impracticable for the men who conceived it.

The collaboration begun in "The Fall of Robespierre" (Cambridge, 1794) was continued in Southey's "Joan of Arc" (1796), to which Coleridge contributed the part afterwards printed (with some additions) as "The Destiny of Nations," and in Coleridge's first volume of "Poems" (Bristol, 1796).

Southey, it might almost be said, took care of Coleridge's family henceforth; for Coleridge had begun to find his own fireside an intolerable place as early as 1802, lived little at home, and made a formal separation from his wife in 1808,though they saw each other occasionally after that and the Wedgwood annuity continued to be paid to Mrs. Coleridge.