[The revised text of a lecture given at Bristol in 1995 as part of The Bristol Connection, a celebration of the bicentenary of the first meeting of Coleridge and Wordsworth.]
(The Coleridge Bulletin New Series No 7 (Spring 1996) , pp 2-29)
The theme is “revolution” -
American, French and Coleridgean. The focus is
was chalked on college walls, a train of gunpowder traced ‘
Coleridge expressed his disillusionment with
words when he met Southey a few
weeks later and, together, they sought to give Greek names and political
substance to their vision of a classless, propertyless community to be
established in the American wilderness — their famous and much ridiculed
pantisocracy. Southey was born two years before the American Declaration of
Independence, and was aged 15 when the Bastille fell — an event celebrated by
Coleridge in a schoolboy poem. Southey had been enough of a schoolboy rebel to
get expelled from Westminster, and later expressed the exhilaration of living
through revolutionary times in almost Wordsworthian vein: ‘Old things seemed
passing away, and nothing was dreamt of but the regeneration of the human
race.’ It was Southey who brought Coleridge to
The marriages to the two Fricker sisters - Coleridge to Sara
in October and Southey to Edith in November — were intended as a prelude to
emigration. The two brides would be founder—members of the pantisocratic
community to be established on the banks of the Susquehanna in
It is also easy to dismiss this idealization of the newly
created American republic - and indeed the whole pantisocratic concept - as
impractical student day-dreaming. But it was an Utopian vision that was widely
shared by more mature contemporaries - men who are regarded as being very much
in the main stream of the rational thought of the European Enlightenment.
Even before the American War,
Coleridge does not appear to have read Charlevoix, and
Catesby’s folio volumes were too large to borrow. But we know that he read the Travels of another transatlantic
naturalist, William Bartram, which Bristol Library purchased in the
The soil is a deep, rich dark mould, on a deep stratum of tenacious clay, and that on a foundation of rocks, which often break through both strata,lifting their backs above the surface. The trees which chiefly grow here are the gigantic black oak, magnolia magniflora, fraximus excelsior, platane and a few stately tulip trees.
And he adds: ‘What Mr Wordsworth
will produce it -is not for me to prophesy: but I could pronounce with the
liveliest convictions what he is capable of producing. It is the FIRST GENUINE
PHILOSOPHIC POEM.’  Wordsworth himself lost his copy of
Bartram on a trip to
More persuasive, perhaps, is evidence of Wordsworth’s debt in the opening lines of ‘Ruth’ to Bartram’s meeting with an Indian chief. Half—an—hour’s experience of Cherokee hospitality in Georgia prompts Bartram to exclaim: ‘O divine simplicity and truth, friendship without fallacy or guile, hospitality disinterested, native, undefiled, unmodified by artificial refinements.’ Accompanied by a young trader, the
naturalist observes Cherokee maidens
gambolling amid the azaleas and strawberry-fields or ‘bathing their limbs in
the cool fleeting streams.’ Well might Bartram decide that ‘the sylvan scene of
primitive innocence was perhaps too enticing for hearty young men long to
continue as idle spectators.’  In
‘Ruth’, Wordsworth’s ‘youth from
told of girls—a happy rout!
Who quit their fold with dance and shout
Their pleasant Indian town,
To gather strawberries all day long
Returning with a choral song
When daylight is gone down.
Similarly Bartram’s ‘fiery Azalea, flaming on the ascending hills’ is matched by Wordsworth’s portrayal
Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam
Cover a hundred leagues, and seem
To set the hills on fire.
Not only does Bartram devote more than one-tenth of his
Travels to describing Indian customs and characteristics, but he appends a
separate 40 page account of their ‘Persons, Manners, Customs and Government.’
Here he records that the Cherokees are not only ‘grave and steady: dignified
and circumspect in their deportment,’ but also ‘tenacious of the liberties and
natural rights of man.’ Amid further minute descriptions of their sports and
pastimes, the naturalist concludes: ‘As moral beings they certainly stand in no
need of European civilization.’  Indeed, Bartram implied, it was for
Before we leave Bristol Library and the part it played in the shaping of revolutionary poets, let us look at Southey’s reading in the months immediately before he met Coleridge in the summer of 1794. In the last two months of 1793 he read (or at least borrowed) not only Gilpin’s Forest Scenery , but Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, Godwin’s Political Justice, and Mary Wollstonecraft’s Rights of Woman. Between January
and May 1794 he seems to have concentrated on the histories of Greece and Rome; but his borrowing record from July onwards perhaps reflects Coleridge’s influence: first Observations on Man by the philosopher, Hartley, whom Coleridge so admired that he named one of his sons after him; then the three volumes of Cartwright’s. Labrador Journal and Williams’s Farther Observations on the Discovery of America by Prince Madoc, finally two influential French texts of the Enlightenment - Child of Nature by Helvetius and volume V of Abbe Raynal’s history of the European settlements in the West Indies, which included North America.
Williams’s book was a curiosity since it sought to prove
that Madoc’s descendants were to be found among a Welsh-speaking tribe of North
American Indians. Two hundred years on, The Times for 18 October 1995 reported
that Tony Williams, a Welsh school caretaker was setting out with his wife and
three children for North Dakota, where they would live among the Mandans (and I
quote The Times)’ a tribe of North
Americans whose language is said to bear a strong resemblance to old Welsh.’
The impact made by Williams’s book on an impressionable Southey helps to
explain the writing of the poet’s epic, Madoc,
started in 1794 - and perhaps the readiness of the pantisocrats to consider
The 1776 English edition, which Southey read, contains Raynal’s suggestion that the good health of Americans is due to the ‘great plenty of everything requisite for food’ and to the fact that they are ‘not yet polished nor corrupted by residing in great cities.’ Indeed, he argues, it is only in the colonies that ‘men lead such a rural life as was the original
destination of mankind.’ He
admittedly offers some practical advice, as when he commends the climate of
While Southey was reading Raynal in the early months of
1795, Coleridge had also been using Bristol Library to help him with the series
of lectures he had undertaken to give in the city. But in developing his
pantisocratic ideas, Coleridge had been influenced by books he read, not in
Bristol but in London, where he had been the previous September, trying to find
a publisher for the Fall of Robespierre
— the verse drama he and Southey had written together. He had lodged near
Christ’s Hospital, his old school, and discussed pantisocracy with past and
present ‘Grecians’ as the senior pupils were called. He read three books, all
published between 1792 and 1794 by authors who knew one another and who had all
been caught up in events in Revolutionary Paris. One was Gilbert Imlay, Mary
Wollstonecraft’s American lover. Imlay registered Mary as his wife at the
United States Embassy in
The season of sugar occupies the women, whose mornings are cheered by the modulated buffoonery of the mocking—bird, the tuneful song of the thrush, and the gaudy plumage of the parroquet. Festive mirth crowns the evening. The business of the day being over, the men
join the women in the sugar groves where enchantment seems to dwell...[and] the mildness of the evening invites the neighbouring youth to sportive play.... 
Are there echoes in Coleridge’s sonnet ‘Pantisocracy’, which he wrote and sent to Southey within a couple of weeks of reading Imlay’s book:
Sublime of Hope, I seek the cottag’d dell
Where Virtue calm with careless step may stray,
And dancing to the moonlight roundelay
The wizard passions weave an holy spell?
The second of Coleridge’s
in attack or defence alike
Were strong in their impiety.
The Jacobins first expelled the Girondins from the Convention, and then had them executed. Southey may have shocked Tom Poole’s cousin by claiming that he would rather have heard of his own father’s death than news of the death of Robespierre, but he had earlier written of Brissot’s death
on the guillotine: ‘I am sick of the
world and discontented with everyone in it. The death of Brissot has completely
harrowed up my faculties.’  Brissot is not among the dramatis personae of the Fall of Robespierre- he was dead by
then- but he is constantly referred to in the text, and his ghost seems to
brood over the action. He is usually dismissed as one of history’s failures,
but his importance for us lies in the part he played in interpreting the
American Revolution to his European contemporaries, and so in a sense linking
the American and French Revolutions. Wordsworth may have met Brissot when in
My room was high and lonely, near the roof
Of a large mansion or hotel, a spot
That would have pleased me in more quiet times....
He leaves us guessing whether this was indeed Brissot’s house at 1 Rue Grétry.
, the third of the books we know Coleridge read in
Clavière writes: ‘The present state
Of the trio of Coleridge’s
Whatever Brissot’s contribution to the shaping of
pantisocracy, he and his ideas reappear in the first of Coleridge’s Political
Lectures, delivered in
When the wind is fair and the Planks of the Vessel sound, we may safely trust every thing to the management of professional Mariners: in a Tempest and on board a crazy Bark, all must contribute their Quota of Exertion. The Stripling is not exempted from it by his Youth, nor the Passenger by his Inexperience. Even so, in the present agitations of the public mind, every one ought to consider his intellectual faculties as in a state of immediate requisition. All may benefit Society in some degree....
His aim in the lecture, he goes on to explain, is ‘not so much to excite the torpid as to regulate the feelings of the ardent’—and above all to provide a proper foundation or ‘bottoming’ of unchanging political principles. 
The example of
The Annals of the French Revolution have recorded in Letters of Blood, that the Knowledge of the Few cannot counteract the Ignorance of the Many; that the Light of Philosophy, when it is confined to a small Minority, points out the Possessors as the Victims, rather than the Illuminators of the Multitude. 
This passage is important because it shows that Coleridge was no Jacobin, but a revolutionary of the stamp of William Godwin or Abbé Raynal. The abbé’s programme was one of gradual persuasion — what he called moderating ‘the despotism of the laws by the influence of reason.’ Raynal
continues: ‘Every writer of genius is born a magistrate of his country; and he ought to enlighten it as much as it is in his power.’  We are back with Coleridge’s stripling on the crazy deck. Godwin was almost certainly a more direct influence. He had described the struggle for American Independence as ‘a question involving eternal principles’, and had recommended the setting up of small face-to-face communities where ‘ the voice of reason would be secure to be heard.’  Southey (as I have already mentioned) borrowed Godwin’s Political Justice from Bristol Library, and noted excitedly: ‘I am studying such a book. I am inclined to think that man is capable of perfection.’  And it was Southey who, soon after meeting Coleridge, persuaded him to write a sonnet in Godwin’s honour.
Godwin had been at pains to repudiate what he called
‘romantic notions of pastoral life and the golden age,’ and ridiculed those who
would return in imagination to ‘the forests of
The complete reformation that is wanted, is not instant but future reformation. It can in reality scarcely be considered as the nature of action. It consists in an universal illumination. 
This was also Coleridge’s goal, though he disliked Godwin’s atheism, and sided with Hartley against Godwin, claiming that it was the cultivation of domestic virtues — parental and filial love — that prompted benevolent actions on a universal scale, a thesis that Godwin denied.
I have been arguing that pantisocracy was not simply student wishful thinking, but part of an intellectual climate
which Godwin and Raynal and Brissot
shared. I now want to suggest that it was the pantisocrat’s vision of an
The simplicity of wants and pleasures may be taken as the criterion of Patriotism. Would you prove to me your Patriotism? Let me penetrate into the interior of your house. What! I see your ante-chamber full of insolent lackeys; they give you still those vain titles which liberty treads under foot, and you suffer it and call yourself a patriot! I penetrate a little further—your ceilings are gilded—magnificent vases adorn your chimney-pieces, I walk upon the richest carpets—the most costly wines, the most exquisite dishes cover your table—a crowd of servants surround it—you treat them with haughtiness; —No! you are not a Patriot! 
Similarly, though Coleridge dubs
Robespierre ‘a Caligula with the cap of
Robespierre... possessed a glowing ardour that still remembered the end, and a cool ferocity that never either overlooked, or scrupled the means. What that end was is not known; that it was a wicked one has by no means been proved. I rather think that the distant prospect, to which he was travelling, appeared to him
grand and beautiful; but that he fixed his eye on it with such intense eagerness as to neglect the foulness of the road. 
Despite this not unsympathetic assessment, it is difficult to find much in this first lecture that can be called ‘Jacobin’ in any precise sense.
Coleridge’s expressed aim is rather that ‘the purifying
alchemy of Education may transmute the fierceness of an ignorant man into
virtuous energy’ and that the future may belong to what he calls ‘thinking and
disinterested Patriots.’ Such true patriots, he claims, are ‘accustomed to
regard all the affairs of men as process, they never hurry and they never pause.’
Coleridge is well aware of the practical difficulties nevertheless: ‘That
general Illumination should precede Revolution,’ he remarks, ‘is as obvious as
that the Vessel should be cleansed before we fill it with a pure Liquor. But
the mode of diffusing it is not discoverable with equal facility....’  Godwin sought to diffuse enlightenment
from above. Coleridge’s solution is to find a teacher who ‘uniting the zeal of
the Methodist with the views of the Philosopher, should be personally among the Poor, and teach them their Duties in order that he may render them
susceptible of their Rights.’  Unlike Godwin, Coleridge calculates that-
a religious ingredient is essential in any scheme of popular education. The
lecture ends with an adapted text from
Watch ye! Stand fast in the principles of which ye have been convinced! Quit yourselves like Men! be strong! Yet let all things be done in the spirit of Love. 
The Watchman was not a carelessly chosen title for the political journal he would shortly be editing.
The programme of political lectures was nevertheless cut
short. In late February, Coleridge wrote to George Dyer explaining that he had hoped to give a fourth lecture, but that ‘Mobs and Mayors, Blockheads and Brickbats, Placards and Press gangs have leagued in horrible Conspiracy against me....’ In the third lecture, Coleridge had not only attacked the war against France, but the bench of bishops for supporting it:
It is recorded in the shuddering hearts of Christians that while Europe is reeking with Blood, and smoaking with unextinguished Fires, in a contest of unexampled crimes and unexampled calamities, every Bishop but one voted for the continuance of the war.
The bishops, he continued, were concerned not with the religion of peace, or the religion of the Gospels,’ but the Religion of Mitres and Mysteries, the Religion of Pluralities and Persecution, the Eighteen-Thousand-Pound-a Year Religion of Episcopacy....’ 
This vehement attack on the bishops is a. reminder that
Coleridge was a non-conformist in religion as well as a radical in politics.
Indeed, but for the generosity of the Wedgwoods, he would have been a Unitarian
minister like Joseph Priestley. And Priestley, before emigrating to
Yet the lectures are a defence of ‘rational Christianity’ - a half way house between the hierarchical religions of Anglicanism and Catholicism (which Coleridge found equally
Priest-ridden) and the deistical
Cult of the Supreme Being, promoted by the philosophes
and imposed by Robespierre on a reluctant
Thus the first lecture begins with an extended allegory in
which Coleridge dreams that he is in ‘a vast plain, which I immediately knew to
The first five lectures are indeed almost entirely
concerned with Christian ‘evidences’— though there are occasional political glosses. Thus Coleridge commends the Jewish system of government created by Moses, as being based on contract; he applauds the Jews’ habit of electing their kings; and he praises the purely provisional title given in Jewish law to landed property. Moreover he asserts in almost Marxist terms that the produce of the land ‘belongs equally to all who contribute their due proportion of Labour.’  We recall Coleridge’s lines in ‘Religious Musings’ where:
Self-governed, the vast family of Love
Raised from the common earth by common toil
Enjoy the equal produce.
The theme of equality is taken up in the last lecture- the only one of the six to be avowedly political in content. It embodies Coleridge’s demonstration of the egalitarianism of Christianity:
Universal Equality is the object of the Messiah’s mission not to be procured by the tumultuous uprising of an indignant multitude but this final result of an unresisting yet deeply principled Minority, which gradually absorbing kindred minds shall at last become the whole.
By contrast, the British Constitution, stemming from the Glorious Revolution of 1688, has brought a century of wars in which, the lecturer claims, 10 million lives have been lost. None of these wars, he continues, were fought for causes that could have justified the death of one individual: every war had originated in ‘the Folly and Prejudice of our Monarchs and the wretched compliance of Ministers, and through them we are a bloodstained People.’ 
What, then, is to be said in favour of the British Government? Very little, it seems:
Selfishness is planted in every bosom, and prepares us for the Slavery which it introduces. There is scarcely
a Vice which Government does not teach us—a criminal prodigality and an unholy Splendour surrounds it—disregard of solemn Promises marks its conduct-and more than half the business of Ministers is to find inducements to Perjury!
Meanwhile the labouring man in the field is crushed in body and spirit:
The powers of intellect are given him in vain- To make him work like a beast he is kept as ignorant as a brute beast. It is not possible that this despised and oppressed man should behold the rich and idle without malignant Envy.
If the labourer takes to crime, Coleridge continues, the government ‘hangs the victim for crimes to which it has itself supplied the Temptations.’ Such are the effects of a government ‘which is allowed to be the best which has yet been tried excepting the American....’ 
The rest of the lecture is devoted to an attack on the debasing effect of the trade in luxury goods. The audience is reminded that from the ‘desolate plains of Indostan’ we receive:
gold, diamonds, silks, muslins and calicoes for fine Ladies and Prostitutes. Tea to make a pernicious Beverage, Porcelain to drink it from, and salt-petre for the making of gunpowder with which we may murder the poor Inhabitants who supply all these things. 
The fact that the last three pages of the printed lecture are peppered with new Testament texts in support of the equalization of property does nothing to obscure the political thrust of this last of the Lectures on Revealed Religion, delivered in the second week of June.
The six lectures were not published in Coleridge’s lifetime. His next lecture,’On the Slave Trade’- a bold
Before embarking on his catalogue of horrors, the lecturer
reverts to the theme of his previous lecture—the pernicious effects of the
trade in luxuries. Because of the triangular nature of the slave trade—
The importance of the Lecture on the Slave Trade for our present purpose lies in Coleridge’s attack on government failure to end or even curb the traffic in slaves. He complains that legislation gets lost in Parliament: Wilberforce’s motion for abolition, introduced in February, ‘was passed through the
House of Commons’ [Coleridge tells
us] ‘mangled and mutilated by the emendation of Mr
Enormities at which a Caligula might have turned pale, are authorized by our Legislature, and jocosely defended by our Princes - and yet (O Shame! where is thy Blush!) we have the impudence to call the French a Nation of Atheists! 
In other words, the French Jacobins had succeeded where British Evangelical Christians had failed.
In the absence of legislation, all that is left to Englishmen (Coleridge thinks) is the weapon of the boycott:
Had all the people who petitioned for the abolition of this execrable Commerce, instead of bustling about and shewing off with the vanity of pretended sensibility, simply left off the use of Sugar and Rum, it is demonstrable that the Slave-merchants and Planters must either have applied to Parliament for the abolition of the Slave Trade or have suffered the West Indies Trade altogether to perish — a consummation most devoutly to be wished. 
Our lecturer evidently had little to
learn from twentieth-century pressure-groups, but (again) the political
campaign promoted through his
Richard Holmes in his much-acclaimed biography remarks (I
think unfairly) that Coleridge’s
his exact ideological position: at one moment a fiery democrat, at the next an unworldly Unitarian idealist preaching universal benevolence.’  I disagree with Holmes’s verdict. I hope my extensive quotation from the lectures has shown that Coleridge’s political line was a consistent one. It was, I suggest, Godwinism plus God. Godwin had claimed:
· that property was the source of inequality and injustice; .
· that government was the cause of more evil than good;
· that vice was the result of social circumstance;
· that the required revolution would be bloodless and non-violent, and would take the form of the intellectual and moral conversion of the masses.
All these Godwinian ideas are
promoted in Coleridge’s
Perhaps the course of lectures he proposed to give on what he called ‘A Comparative View of the English Rebellion under Charles the First and the French Revolution’ would have changed our perception. But it is doubtful whether these lectures ever materialized. In the Bristol Library there are two copies of the original prospectus, but there is no evidence of the lectures themselves, and Coleridge later admitted to a correspondent that his rhetoric had rather carried him away in his Bristol lectures and that he had ‘aided the Jacobins, by witty sarcasms and subtle reasonings and declamations full of genuine feeling against all established Forms!’  Which lectures was he thinking of? Probably not the series we have considered so far, but the lecture he gave in November 1795, after his meeting with Wordsworth and just after his marriage.
It was the repressive policy of Pitt’s government that so swiftly drew the newly married Coleridge out of political retirement:
Ah! quiet Dell! dear Cot and
I was constrain’d to quit you.
Was it right While my unnumber’d brethren toil’d and bled,
That I should dream away the entrusted hours
On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart
With feelings all too delicate for use?...
I therefore go and join head, heart and hand,
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science, Freedom and the Truth in Christ.
So, late in November, Coleridge gave his ‘lecture on the Two Bills’, subsequently printed as The Plot Discovered. The two bills were the so-called ‘Treason Bill’ introduced into the House of Lords by Grenville in order to secure the King and his ministers ‘against Treasonable and Seditious Practices and Attempts,’ and the ‘Convention Bill’ introduced into the House of Commons by Pitt, which was directed against seditious meetings and assemblies. Coleridge claimed that if Pitt’s government succeeded in suspending the right to hold meetings and the freedom to publish (as the two bills proposed) ‘the cadaverous tranquility of despotism will succeed the generous order and graceful indiscretions of freedom’ with the result that ‘our assemblies will resemble a silent and sullen mob of discontented slaves who have surrounded the palace of some eastern tyrant.’ 
The British Constitution, Coleridge argues, is not a static but a dynamic thing. As it stands, it clearly has serious faults:
But if the present Constitution be progressive, if its only excellence, if its whole endurableness consists in motion; if that which it is be only good as being the step and mode of arriving at something better
then the ministers, by attempting to stifle criticism, are: most unnaturally dwarfing what they dare not at once destroy. As ladies of high rank and sensibility give gin to young dogs, even so are they drenching the Constitution with a poison to prevent its further growth and keep it a fit plaything for themselves to dandle.
And if it has been made treason to suggest ways of improving the Constitution, what (Coleridge asks) will be the consequence:
...when the people dare not advise, who will remain? WOLSEYS that breathe foul disorders into the ear of Majesty; and whole flights of Priests and Bishops, black men, and black men with white arms, like magpies and crows that pick out the eyes of sheep!
As for the other bill, curtailing public meetings, he continues, it means two things:
First that the people of
almost insensible steps, and by just degrees.’ Political lectures were, he argued, ‘perhaps too well adapted to ripen men for purposes more or less suited to those of the Jacobin Society of Paris.’  Thelwall felt the pamphlet betrayed the cause of reform. But Godwin was adhering to the gradualist approach he had advocated in Political Justice.
And Coleridge, despite the colourful invective of his November lecture, followed the Godwin line. Indeed, given the determination of Pitt’s government to suppress any signs of English Jacobinism, it was the only path left open. So Coleridge turned to journalism, proclaiming in the prospectus to his newly founded Watchman that he had set himself to ‘preserve Freedom and her Friends from the attacks of Robbers and Assassins.’ But the first issues prudently conceded that the Two Bills might usefully cool the language of political publications and perhaps ‘confine us for a while to the teaching of first principles, or the diffusion of that general knowledge which should be the basis or substratum of politics.’
When The Watchman
folded after ten issues, Coleridge thought of turning schoolmaster. He confided
than to suffer a few factious Aliens to scatter among them the
seeds of discord and sedition.’ Coleridge retorted with a pamphlet in which he
gloried in the fact that he was not a
Bristolian, for ‘recollecting that there was not virtue enough in [
Forgive me, Freedom! Oh forgive those dreams!
I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament,
I hear thy groans upon her blood-stained streams.
And the concluding lines
And there I felt thee!-on that sea-cliff’s verge,
Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above,
Had made one murmur with the distant surge!
Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,
And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,
Possessing all things with intensest love,
The kinship of sentiment between these lines and those of Wordsworth’s ‘Lines Written above Tintern Abbey’, composed later that year - albeit it was Nature displacing Liberty- lend force to Nicholas Roe’s remark that it was the failure of revolutionary fervour that made Wordsworth a poet.
Wordsworth had been in
lodged with Brissot- before finding himself among the Jacobins of Orleans, where he wrote Descriptive Sketches with lines celebrating the revolutionary cause:
Yet, yet rejoice, tho’ Pride’s perverted ire
Rouse Hell’s own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire.
Lo from the innocuous flames, a lovely birth
With its own Virtues springs another earth.
This is not quite yet Robespierre’s ‘Virtue through Terror’, but the young Wordsworth speaks in the authentic accents of Jacobinism.
In Coleridge’s case, I would claim that the revolutionary
impulse, flowing from the more distant and less turbulent source of the
American Revolution, became more subtly transmuted and never lost the Utopian
current that ran from Godwin, through pantisocracy, to the Bristol lectures of
1795. Fourteen years later, when commenting on Wordsworth’s pamphlet Concerning the Relations of
My own heart bears me witness, that I am actuated by the deepest sense of the truth of the principles which it has been and still more will be my endeavour to enforce, and of their paramount importance to the Well-being of Society at the present juncture: and that the duty of making the attempt, and the hope of not wholly failing in it, are far more than the wish for the doubtful good of literary reputation... my great and ruling motives. Mr Wordsworth I deem a fellow-labourer in the same vineyard, actuated by the same motives and teaching the same principles.... 
The vineyard in which they worked
together, from their
the Coleridgean revolution is still to make.
John Cornwell Coleridge:Poet &
Horace Bedford, 22 Aug 1794. New Letters
of Robert Southey, ed. Kenneth Curry, 2 vols
Letters to the Duchess of Lesdiquieres
giving an Account of a Voyage to
 Biographia Literaria Everyman Edtn.
Kastner A World of Naturalists,
Bartram Travels Through North and
 Ibid. pp.483,487
A Philosophical and Political History of
the Settlements and Trade in the East and West Indies, trans. J. Justamond,
Imlay A Topographical Description of
Grosvenor Bedford 11 Nov 1793. Life and
Correspondence of Robert Southey ,ed. C.C.Southey, 6 vols, 2nd edn
New Travels in the
 Coleridge's Writings on Politics and Society
ed. John Morrow,
 Ibid. pp.26-7
 Raynal op. cit. v p.449
Godwin An Enquiry concerning Political
Justice... 2 vols. 2nd edn.
 New letters of Robert Southey, op. cit. p.30
 Godwin op. cit. i pp.71-2; 222-23
 Coleridge's Writings ed. Morrow, op. cit. p.27
 Ibid. ppp.34-5
 Ibid. p.27
 Ibid. p.31-32
 Ibid. p.32
 Ibid. pp.36
 Ibid. pp.37-8
 Autobiography of Joseph Priestley with
an introduction by Jack Lindsay,
Collected Works of S.T.Coleridge ed. K.Coburn et al. 16 vols
 Ibid. i p.127
 Ibid. i p.218-20
 Ibid. i p.221-23
 Ibid. i p.226
 3 March 1808. See Collected Works i p.232
 Ibid. i pp.244-45
 Ibid. i p.246
Holmes Coleridge: Early Visions,
Oct. 1803 to Sir George and Lady Beaumont. See Collected Letters of S.T.C. ed. E.L.Griggs, 6 vols
 The Plot Discovered or An Address to the
People against Ministerial Treason,
 Ibid. pp. 16-17, 19
 Ibid. pp. 20-21
 Godwin Considerations on Lord Grenville's and Mr Pitt's Bills London 1795, p.22
 Cornwell op. cit. p.145
 Collected Works i p.389 42.
 Ibid iv(2nd part) p.108